As many of you probably know, I recently acquired a Macintosh. I know I know, no — hell hasn’t frozen over. Basically what happened was that in the process of doing Y2k inventory, all the “junk” machines such as the production machine I was doing IEAK on, were not being included and were going to be sold off. I bought a Macintosh Quadra, 17 inch monitor, CD-ROM reader/writer (SCSI) and an external SCSI drive for, get this 100 bucks!. I’ve been spending all weekend getting it hooked up. The only fucked up part is that it’s a 68k Mac and NOT a power PC. gash. But anyway, you would be surprised how much software is still available for the 68k Mac. So I’m sitting here, doing the chronicles on my Mac (named imhotep) while my linux box plays Ned’s Atomic Dustbin God Fodder.
This so owns.
See, this was part of the problem. Mainly I wanted to have two boxen: One would run linux of some distro (now it’s Mandrake aka RedHat on crack) and some sort of gui based OS. The problem was that with Linux, many of what I use and do, there is nothing out available for it. I tried doing TLC on a linux boxen and lemme tell you, it was not easy. Mainly the thing is my spelling (very important of course) sucks major ass — and I needed a spell checker. There was NO getting around that. The only thing I found for linux was iSpell, which is okay but it kept saving the files to /home/lisa/temp — which was pissing me off. It would save the files as “12aksjdhf.tmp”. Then doing a hunt and peck looking to see which file was what with pico ain’t my idea of fun. I needed something that was literally easy, I could run my lame ass apps (like Aol/IM/ICQ/Eudora) and where i could also fuck around in linux. I wanted best of both worlds. heh.
Anyway, the problem with running solely Linux was the fact that half of my hardware wasn’t running. We are talking about a second generation Sony Vaio (200mhz) which I had pimped out with 12gig’s and 64mb of ram and a PHAT 56k modem. heh. Anyway! Moving right along, sound didn’t work — and with no sound when lisa is working makes for a very unhappy lisa. Everyone and their brother tried to help me out — nothing was working. It was some sort of legacy issue — that and PnP of course. But, thanks gods for Justin. I walked away from my comp the other day and he sat down, reinstalled Mandrake, got ipchains working, setup the firewall AND got it so that my sound was working. So now I’m jamming to Ned’s and typing on mah mac. 🙂
This rocks.
ph33r my elitness
grey cell green
So, nearly 10 days ago when i wrote my last missive, shit has been fucked up all around. My car got towed and I owed the City of SF 600 bucks to get it out of impound. I’ve been playing “Am I getting fired today?” at work (very long story — and no I’m not). I’ve been uber depressed. Been walking around listening to nothing but Front242/FrontLine Assembly/KMFDM — anything industrial/techno/gothic based. Spending too much time being really down on myself. I wish I had something specific to pinpoint as to WHY I’m feeling like shit — I mean — depression is coming. I knew when I went out and bought “raven mist” hair color and painted my nails “seduction” (aka blood red). I know shit is fucked up all over — and it didn’t seem to get better. I didn’t know what was going on, I didn’t know how to handle it. As obvious by Justin shaking me on the corner of 2nd and Stillmen when my car got towed. I’m slowly going INSANE. People are commenting left and right to me that they haven’t quite “seen” me like this in eons — and I know what it signifies. The next couple of months are going to be ultra-crucial. I’m moving to VA on October 7thish, I’m going to Atlanta, I’m moving to a new state — starting a whole new life. I should be FUCKING happy and I’m not. I keep degrading myself down to these pitiful little holes of hell and it’s driving me mad. I just wanted to be happy — and I think that everyone wants that as well. But I’m finding that all my old “things” that I was so angry at are resurfacing. Read anything before TLC came on-line in July of 1998 — you’ll see what I mean. Many of it still seems to be tripe to me — but a lot of echoes how I feel right now.
My mom is joining a convent soon. How quaint.
I’ve been trying to write a TLC for days now — but finding it harder and harder to do so.
I don’t know what’s happening to me.
Paul said I need to face my fears and only then will I be free.
Maybe.
I just fear some major heavy ultra-rejection.
I don’t know how strong I’m supposed to be and how much stronger I need to keep being. Sometimes I just want to die. I won’t lie to you. I’ve been calling the music I’ve been listening to “Slit Your Wrist” music. I’m not kidding. Do a search for Front 242 lyrics for the album “Off” — you’ll see exactly what I mean. I’ve been walking around going mumbling “just be myself, can i just be myself”.
I told someone 30 was my cut-off point. If I don’t accomplish a lot of what I want to do before I’m 30 — I’m gone. Now before you start going “Um, Lisa, that is SUCH a cry for help” and calling your local suicide hotline, don’t bother. 98% chance that I won’t off myself (I made a funny!). Anyone who has known me for years that these things pass with time and I’m never serious — however, I know that many of us feel, that from time to time, life isn’t worth living. And sometimes I’m happy that I made it through my first suicide attempt 10 years ago, and other times I wish I would have died. But that is neither here nor there. I’m just telling you how it is folks, that is why you are here.
I will make no illusions that I’m being serious. For a few days, i was dead serious. But, I have (and will always know) that this passes with time. Being bipolar manic depressive isn’t cool kids. It sucks major ass. Lemme tell you.
But things are looking up. I’m removing myself from one situation and starting anew life. I’m really digging someone I’ve been digging for 6 months and he’s mein gott (g). I had to say it to taunt him.
Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, there is so much, that you as a general public are not aware of. So much lies behind me then what meets the eye. Some people are not comfortable with knowing THAT MUCH about me — others want to own my soul. I give what I can — when I can. I give to those I feel deserve it and when I feel they need to have it. It’s not a game — it’s my life.
i’ve always been strong — and I’ve always attempted to make some sort of peace within my life. I’ve always strived to be the VERY FUCKING BEST that I can be. And that threatens people — and it’s harmful to others. My megalomania can be daunting. Fuck, I just created a new IM name: LishaIsGod. heh. Cos, I am god. this is my fucking world and I’m letting you enjoy it. If you piss me off, nothing a little DENY won’t work magic on.
I’m rambling.
Someone once asked me long ago the purpose of this site. I’ve been on slashdot, I’ve been linked a time or five from UserFriendlys website — People know of me. I’m not some nameless person in the crowd (well — heh). I am someone.
And see, in some sick twist of fate, this is NOT what I wanted. I never wanted to be known as se7en’s exfuck (which, two years later, still fucking haunts my ass), or anything other than myself. This website was purposely for my own purposes — I write to feel better. I write to create. I write to look back and laugh at my own stupidity or my own wisdom. You, the general public, just think I rock on with my frock on. And that’s okay too. I’ve created new identities for myself and I’ll keep creating till one fits who I am. Things are looking up. I’m hopeful, I’m optimistic, I’m moving on up (to the east side!).
I’m okay — really.
I’m telling you all this now because how could I not tell you. For over a year now, my life has been an open book Many people probably know WAY more about me then they want to know — but, that’s okay. I’m here and I’m still kicking and screaming and that says something. I’ve always known that if I was going to off myself, I would have finished the job that I started 10 years ago. But, I know that many things are going to happen, it does get easier and I have a 6’6 sadistic motherfucker waiting for me in Atlanta.
Things aren’t what they always appear to be — and I know that. And I’m rational enough to know that only I can control my fate (I won’t tell you WHY I’m subscribed to getting my daily horoscope, i can cos it’s cool) and i only can make the decisions to make my life better. For the first time, in a very very long time, I feel more confident in all my abilities than I have for a long time.
And what does lisa do when she’s down?
She goes out and buys new shoes of course!
And can someone PLEASE explain to me why the fuck I can’t find bra’s in size 36Ds? It’s not like I’m that big — jesus. I found bras in 36DDs but not single Ds. Sunofabitch.
I’m tired now. Carolyn (Cathleen’s sister who is staying with us temporarily) and I wear the same shoe size. We are going out this weekend
looking for bitchboots (imagine — 5-6 inch platform, knee high leather boots). Woo doggie. I can’t wait.
BRING IT!
I tired and I go nini.
happy thoughts
Today I actually left the office and sat in SouthPark and ate a burrito from Pepitos as I enjoyed the beautiful summer weather and read Henry Miller. Regardless of the crap that has been occurring — doing the little things really makes me glad to be fucking alive.
x0x0x0x
LishaIsGod
Tag: TheExHusband
make you sweat
several months ago, shelly told me that she had started a diet. nearly two months later and 20lbs thinner, i had to admire her courage. we’ve become this secret society of women who compare fat/calories and carbs as we work our weigh to a thinner “us.”
i completely admire shell for her dedication for doing what she thinks is right for. everytime she puts her mind to something and goes for it, she gets it. i wish her a long and healthy success on doing this.
as many of you have known, i’ve long had a weight issue of my own. i’ve always been completely self-conscious about my body. My face I’ve never had a problem with — it’s always been my body.
So, I took upon shellys vigor and started working out (again). I’ve decided to do it everyday (like her) and alternate. One day do weights stretching/toning, the next day cardio exercises (ie: Tae Bo).
So, I close off the living room and start working out. I’m feeling good.
Right jab here, punch kick there, when we start doing side kicks.
I wore the WRONG underwear.
So it was left side kick, pull wedgie out of ass, right side kick, pull wedgie out of ass.
stir well and repeat.
justin walks in and sees me and starts laughing.
i get self-conscious and pull the underwear out of my ass, grab my bottle water and huff off.
but inside i was laughing because that was so me.
and i just thought i would share.
x0x0x0x
moi
miss american pie
when i was a kid growing up in Port Huron, Michigan; I loved summer. I loved waking up and walking outside of my house and seeing the grass shimmer with morning dew. i would hear the birds chirping in the trees and i would sit on the front porch during the day reading or sit on the back porch at night writing underneath the stars. my whole day would be planned around events such as riding my bike down to the lake and sitting in one of the little coves near the entrance between the lake and river. i would sit there sucking on freez-e’s while writing in my journal. i was 11 years old.
there is something about summertime in the Midwest that no one can touch.
i haven’t figured out what it is about it, but i keep noticing that certain things will strike me as being very Midwestern and i would get homesick pretty quickly. but i get homesick quite often…
this past Friday, i had to drive to Fresno California, which is located about 3 hours east of Oakland. Fresno is in the valley and considered to be away from anything/everything that is a happening. last time i was there, i mocked the fact that the biggest days for them was Rodeo Days and that the radios stations played Color Me Badd’s “I Wanna Sex You Up” as a “hot” hit. That even though there was a major university in the town, it still sucked ass. it is hickville. completely and totally. it was not as bad as grand rapids, but it had that dull feel to it and a Midwest smell to it. and i fell in love.
i would go outside for a few minutes and enjoy the HEAT and smell the fresh air. things seemed so different there. i couldn’t put my finger on it and i can’t even begin to describe it. i remember sitting on the porch at our facilities in Fresno and looking around and everything seemed so lush and green. the grass seemed touchable and soft. like i could slip off my shoes and walk around barefoot for a few hours and or lie down and sleep. everything felt alive.
i hate san francisco.
ever since i’ve been here, people have told me time and time again how i fit into the culture here. how i fit the stereotype of a 20 something year old geek. but SF bores me. the few local events i’ve been too didn’t titillate or scintillate me — they bored me. i just feel that we’ve lost all contact with being human in our quest for mechanical perfection.
they have also said that there is something about that i needed to do here: find myself? come to terms with myself? find peace in myself? i don’t know – all i do know is that i left Fresno Friday pretty freaking happy. I was in love. I drove down the highways yelling and screaming and shaking my booty to the music out pounding out of my car stereo. and the closer i got to Oakland, the more tense i got, the more bitter i felt.
i drove past Livermore and started screaming and yelling because I saw a DRIVE IN movie theater actually showing a movie. I haven’t seen one of those since I was a kid.
i realize whatever i needed to do here — i’ve done. it’s time for me to go now. the penance (as only the way i see it) is over with. i’ve paid my fucking dues. no one can understand the hatred i have for this place — but i can see it. there is nothing for me here in SF. I’ve always known this since I had moved out here 2 years ago and everyone keep telling me that I was wrong. My own anger and paranoia — I know that SF is wrong for me. I felt “me” when i was out in Fresno and when i was back home in GR this past winter.
One of the things I’ve been thinking about as of late is when I go to Memphis on Wednesday. Mike and I have been talking about different things we are going to be doing the week that i’m there. the problem is that from his description and my own research, Memphis sounds very lovable. meaning that it’s not as high strung as SF and not as lame as GR. It’s the perfect combination (thus far) of both climates. (and NO this is not some metaphor about falling in luv with Mike — geez). Memphis, in short, sounds perfect to me. I’m free and over 21. There is nothing holding me back or causing me to stay anywhere.
But I told Mike, that I was afraid. i was afraid of getting to Memphis and falling in love with it and having it all blow up in my face like Toronto did back in 1996. I couldn’t deal with that again. And I certainly don’t want to be here.
So, we’ll see. I just haven’t been thinking about it much really. in fact — it’s odd that i think about it that neither mike nor myself bring it up except to say “neat — you’re gonna be here in a few days”. he, the big sweetie, went out and stocked up on trident sugarless gum, chocolate milk and bottled water 🙂 I am, so loved.
speaking of being loved, the last week has been strange. well at least as far as people go. i think i may have mentioned that i’ve been feeling like a bitch in heat and that i’m picking up on peoples smells. it’s horrid. i can smell everything and anything and since i’ve been smoke free (13 days now! woo!) it’s been heightened. First off, I’ve had like two complete sets of bi-poly-girls hit on me. both of them are unix chyks/mac whores who live with their BFs. it wouldn’t be so strange if it were not true. and both of them are adorable! then there is Justin — he says that my secret to getting people hit on me is my own pheromones which have been rather strong recently. i thought he meant that uh, well, heh, that certain areas were rather fragrant this time and he said no — but that i just have this smell of deliciousness. whatever it is, i’ve been getting hit on, stared at and adored left and right. it’s flattering and it makes me feel beautiful.
I get sad though because even though I would love to have one person as my very own teddy bear — sometimes it feels like i do more good for the masses. whatever that means.
speaking of flattering, someone made icq skins of yours truly.
here is one shot.
there is another shot.
something purty
x0x0x0x0x,
moi
i’m in the mood
goddamn pheromones.
for the last uh, week or so i’ve been walking around like a bitch in heat. it’s not anything in particular or anyone in particular it just IS. some people were kind of upset that i mentioned it and others took it to mean that this gave them permission to tell me their sex life. it’s neither — it just is. Alan once said when we were dating years ago, that he would hate to see me in my prime as i would probably rip my bf to shreds sexually with my aggressiveness. i think he meant himself. who would know that we would have broken up.
in a way, i like feeling this way. everything feels like liquid against my skin and everything has this slight blur to it. it’s like being on drugs when you aren’t. when bean came up, she smelled so good that i wanted to kiss her — but i never did. she emailed me back today telling me that she thought she should have made the first move. i’m sitting here looking at Justin like he’s a piece of meat. it would be so easy to have sex with him and i won’t: I don’t love him and it would not mean anything. masturbation just isn’t cutting it and i’m torturing myself by listening to the goo goo dolls slide — which is like what i’m so loving right now. AND THEN Mike sent me a new pic after getting his hair cut. drool i mean look at him! he’s damned cute! i don’t understand why he’s not dating anyone. if i were localized to him, I’d be all over him like white on rice! and that neck! my god! i just want to lick it like a lolly pop.
and NO i’m not going to shush.
I’m sick of being told to shush.
I don’t shush.
and it’s not even really about being horny it’s about being in love — this is how it feels to me — but i’m not in love with anyone! when i’m in love, i want to touch, feel and taste everything. i want to swallow and be engulfed. this is how i feel. i can’t even concentrate because mike’s damned neck is diverting my attention and i can’t concentrate.
more later.
missing someone i don’t even know
girls who wear glasses
when i was 8 years and in the third grade, i was friends with Audrey and Valerie Ricebeck, who were fraternal twins. Val, Aud and I were like the three stooges: we were never somewhere without the others. While, like most twins, they were as different as night and day, it was strictly because of this that we three got along so well.
as best friends generally go, when one of them got something, the other two of us wanted it.
so when Val got glasses (or maybe it was Audrey — this was nearly 20 years ago — so i don’t quite remember), I had to have them to.
i faked not being able to see the blackboard, forcing my mom to take me to the eye doctors. turned out that i really did need glasses and was given a dorky pair from there on in.
later that year, Aud and Val moved to Ohio and i never heard from them again.
since that time, i’ve always grown up with an absolute hatred for glasses. my aunts tried to make me feel better about it by having gold lettered initials put in the corners (it was all the rage in the late ’70s), getting glasses that auto-darkened to the sun and basically anything that would make my life “easier”.
i never saw this to be so, though, really. you see, i was always convinced that NO ONE would touch me with glasses on. my lack of popularity or what have you was because i wore glasses. so when i started 8th grade, i begged and pleaded for contacts and eventually got them. then Nick Hill thought i was cute and we started dating as far as being in 8th grade goes and dating goes. he was the first boy i had ever kissed. later he dumped me before our “senior” trip to Cedar Point because i wouldn’t have sex with him while my best friend would. He also moved to Ohio later on that year — but that is another story.
it’s been over 14 years since that time — and granted the girl of 1985 is not the same girl in 1999 (though recently, i’ve been wondering if she and i were not the same now). and for a good chunk of that period, a very select few has ever seen me in my glasses.
i’ve worked really hard to live without them.
oh yesh, i’m blind as a bat, but i will not or would not out of sheer vanity wear my glasses. i hated them. i absolutely hated them. the frames were too big, it was this or it was that. while i made sure i went to the doctors every year or so to check my prescription, i would never get new glasses. i’ve always associated glasses with being fat and unattractive and thusly i just couldn’t see myself wearing them on a daily basis. i had brain washed myself to thinking that no one would EVER EVER want me in my glasses.
then justin came into my life and things started to change.
if i wore glasses around the house, Justin could not keep his hands off of me.
I always joked that since he loved me, he would take me regardless of what i was wearing. his argument was no, that something about how i looked in glasses (even the piece o crap ones that i owned) did “something” to him.
the pair that i had were over 10 years old, the frames were beaten, the ovals were WAY too big for my face. i only wore them when i ABSOLUTELY had to. i used to joke that you knew when i really liked you when i felt comfortable enough showing you my glasses. some people would say their insecurities would be about getting naked — with me it as about wearing glasses.
then earlier this year, i finally had enough money to spend on getting glasses AND contacts. i checked around found a place having a 2 for 1 frame sale. scheduled the appointment and viola! I walked out with 6 months worth of disposable contacts, one pair of funky frames and one pair of wireless frames.
I fell in love with my new glasses.
i would put them on when i was at home and just stare at myself. i couldn’t get or understand why glasses made me feel so, good, but these pairs did. both pairs both fit my personality and my facial features. i didn’t look fat or unattractive or trashy as i had brain washed myself to be: i looked CUTE.
but as they say, old habits die hard.
yesterday morning bean and i were playing around with my quickcam when she just adored me in my glasses. pawly saw the pictures and wrote to me nearly poetic verses about me and glasses — he intoned that i could go from “hot lil vixenous sloot to intelligent looking strong woman” in a matter of seconds with glasses on — and the irony was that every male i spoke to that day echoed the same thing!
something about girls in glassess…
i don’t get it — really.
mike said it best: he implied that a woman who would wear her glasses had moxy and self-confidence — which was really quite attractive. well duh — i mean, that is what every says about me as it is in the first place. i got to thinking. I went into the bathroom, put on the black funky pair, slapped some lipstick on and threw a funky barrette in my hair. I looked and looked.
This wasn’t the lisa i knew and adored usually — this was someone different. this was someone, in a way, i always wanted to be.
you see, for many years, people have always assumed that because i was tattooed and pierced that i would want to meet and date tattooed and pierced freaks as well. this is NOT always the case — i’ve always felt like my tastes were eclectic. while i had some common “lisa-isms” about men (tall, cute, goatee), i found that i was attracted to geeky guys. the quiet ones in the corner. the misunderstood guys who had all this passion and verve. the quiet smoldering type. with a hint of ego on the side.
the only person i’ve ever dated that was a ‘freak’ in piecing and tattooing was danny and he didn’t start his road to freak behavior till AFTER we broke up the first time around. Now he makes me look all dainty and pure with as much ink and metal he has in his body. but see, that ink and metal he has in his body makes him look really beautiful to me.
and it would ALWAYS piss me the fuck off when I would be with friends and if they knew or see some guy who had a zillion pieces of metal hanging out of his body, blue hair and wore leather like there is no tomorrow: they would ALWAYS assume that i would want to date this person. it just irritated the hell out of me.
my own reasoning for piercing and tattooing is pretty simple: i find it attractive on me. lisa without pierced nipples just don’t make sense. the tongue thing i keep waffling on (it’s in for now) — but the nipples are so me.
see, people always assume a lot of things about me: and a lot of it has to do with the impressions they get from my website or if they’ve met me in a face to face encounter. some just assume that i am this big outgoing freak and others assume that i’m this big emotional gangbusters or some even think that i can’t have any old fashioned ideas.
but see, that’s all true and not true.
growing up i was /really really/ shy. and in a lot of ways i combated that with being obnoxious and loud: just like my grandfather. i always had a smart mouth on me — and a lot of what my friends saw was that! but this didn’t mean that i never got scared or lonely or felt alone in any manner. nor did this mean that i have a hard time talking to people or feel awkward. but i make the best of it. i have a lot of gumption for a lot of things and in other areas i’m still socially retarded. like i’ve NEVER gone to a bar by myself. Ever. And up until a few weeks ago, I’ve never gone to a party or a movie alone. Those were two huge steps for me. I started hyperventilating — but I did it.
Me and glasses represent a lot of things in my head: and I can still see the very insecure, tall, too smart lisa (uh, i was always the only girl in my AP classes for a long time) who would have killed to be a dingbat if it meant that she would get a freaking date.
it’s funny.
in a lot of ways, sitting here writing this, i’ve realized that while a lot of what i’ve written may seem convoluted, there is a story here and an important one at that. i’m 27 now and i’ve realized that for the first time in a very long time, i really and i mean REALLY like who i am. while things like quitting smoking, working on my book or wearing glasses aren’t really true answers, they are paths that lead to idea of what i wanted. the problem has always been that my own representation of myself has never been as well clarified as i had always hoped it was. i always got so angry when people would just ASSUME that i was one thing when i always saw myself as being another and the wonder why there was always so many misconceptions of me.
i know it goes back to some of the original ideas i had when i was younger, that if someone really liked me (in any sense) that they would get the time to know me on a more intimate level. if they didn’t take that time or energy to invest in me — is this someone i really want in my life?
i’ve spent nearly 14 years shadowboxing the world. and i know it is because of this that people find me “amusing” because f the paradox i seemingly create. all sides are equal but they don’t match up.
i don’t think i’ll ever stop protecting myself from being hurt. likewise i don’t think i’ll stop putting people through tests but i know it’s that wearing glasses and getting pierced are really saying: if you like me, like me for my mind NOT because of what i look like or how many holes i have in my body (this is not discounting physical attractiveness — because i can be fairly shallow — but you know what i mean).
i know this is why i’ll always luv my pawly, because he gets me in a lot of root base desires that others don’t. and my danny for seeing a lot of the sides that i have and still caring about me regardless. and justin for initially setting me on the path. for shelly whose known me longer than anyone else. for bean for making me laugh and being geeky with me. and cartoon boy, who always asked the right questions and got me thinking about stuff and thinking that maybe someone would like me for being real.
a lot of who i am has everything to do with who you guys are.
i seemingly reflect the best that you all are.
i love you guys.
on that note, i’m taking off for Fresno for the day. I have to go do some “work” or something. I don’t know when i’ll be back. i have a lot of stuff to catch up on and then i take off for Memphis on Wednesday. 🙂 i may or may not update the chronicle until i get there — so be forewarned.
my favorite holiday is Halloween.
because everyday is like Halloween.
x0x0x0x0x,
moi a la mode
livin’ la vida loca
so there i was, all snug as a bug in a rug.
with one leg under the covers and the other leg over the covers as it were my style. then all of a sudden i hear:
OAKLAND POLICE! WAKE UP!
what?
I stumble out of bed, justin stumbles off the floor. flashlights shining in our eyes. we flip the bedroom light on, and a female cop is standing right there, wanting to know a few things.
over a week ago, i got the message from Cathleen that Christine was going to be back in town and was showing up that evening. She was driving in from Vegas and her ETA was around 11pm. Cathleen changed the message on the answering machine to reflect this as well as leave her a note — as Christine was going to be staying with us.
Um, okay, thanks for telling me.
So, as the story goes, seems that Christine and her ex-bf/lover/fiancee/whatever have a child together and that they have been sharing custody for the last 8-9 years. It seems that they can’t get along and are always fighting about who gets the child when. Knowing what I know of Christine, this doesn’t surprise me as her life has always been — uh — interesting to say the least.
I come home from work a week ago Monday to show Cat the kittens when we notice that Christine and her daughter are laying down in Cathleen’s room. Seems that Christines car died and she and the kid were going to be camping at our place for awhile.
I luv it when people ask me for my opinion on such matters.
i get insta-grouchy because i hate people intruding on my space. plus i was quitting smoking. plus other people were being grumpy. plus one of my friends got jilted at the alter. it wasn’t a good week.
so Thursday night, i come home from teaching internet 101 and notice that both christine and the kid are gone. justin and i both sighed huge sighs of relief as neither one of us could take it much more. everything seemingly is back to normal — until tonight.
it seems that the ex-lover/fiancee/bf/whatever has been calling here all last week and this week claiming that Christine is here. Cathleen spoke to him several times over the weekend and was yelling at him that Christine was NO LONGER HERE and that he needed to stop calling. It also seems that he’s been doing drive-by’s on our house AND it seems that the cops showed up LAST week as well, cept this time our house was locked up and I was dead to the world sleeping and didn’t know that they were here.
What happened tonight, was this:
Since we were defrosting our fridge, we had ordered out for Chinese. my stomach was feeling funky and justin wasn’t feeling hot either so we were laying down on the couches watching a movie. I get online and talk to cartoon boy for awhile, write a chronicle and then go to bed. Cathleen and Charlie are outside in the backyard and we think nothing about the fact that the back door is wide open.
it’s about 11pm.
at 2am and some change, the cops show up and /walk in/. the back door was wide open, the front security door was unlocked. the ex-lover/bf/fiancee claims to have seen Christine and the child sitting on our front porch no more then 1/2 hour before this. the guy is smoking crack.
so i’m all pissed off at being awaken in the middle of the night. i was having a great dream — damn if i can remember it now.
cops start questioning me about this whole fiasco, which thankfully, i really know nothing about. they ask to search the place, i tell them to go for it. i walk to the front porch and check to see WHY our security door was open. turns out that both justin and i forgot to check the doors when we went to bed — didn’t think to actually because cathleen was in the backyard. it seems that cathleen and Charlie had taken off sometime earlier.
as i lock the front security door, the ex-fiancee/lover/bf is standing on my front porch. i’m fucking pissed off. i start running off at the mouth and rip him a new asshole. i slam the door and walk back into our dining/computer room. i go and find my glasses. cops come back in after tromping around outside. they found the pot plant (singular not plural) that my idiot roommates are trying to grow in our backyard. They threaten me with possession. I laugh and say whatever, it’s not mine — it’s circumstantial evidence. I’m mouthing off to the cops. Cops tell me to calm down. Justin is telling me to shut the fuck up before my ass gets hauled into jail. i try to clam down. justin is shooting me looks to tell me to keep quiet. i calm down. i cooperate with the cops. i tell them what i know and that they need to talk to Cathleen cos she’s the one whose friends with Christine, not me.
The cop asks me if i have any kids or it was “you obviously do not have any kids” and I said “no, but I have three roommates — that’s enough” and she’s trying to get me to understand the fathers side of the story. And i’m like “look — the point here is that it’s between him and her. and now he’s calling MY house at all hours, picking fights with our other roommate and doing goddamn drive-bys. it’s annoying and it’s unnecessary. he was told all last week that she wasn’t here (mostly true) and he’s freaking lying about her being here tonight because she wasn’t.” so the female cop and i go round and round about this and she takes my name and our phone number and leaves. as i escort her out the door, she says something about “well, as for the marijuana plant, i don’t care — personally i think it should be legal.” like she’s doing me a favor! IT WAS NOT MINE! I DONT SMOKE THE DAMN SHIT! gash.
so, then guess who shows up but Cathleen and Charlie.
Justin and I go to the store to get milk since I’m making cawfee. Come back and the cops are interrogating my other roommies now. Justin tries making light of the situation but i’m repulsed by the white trashiness of it all — especially with how our house looks at that moment. I mean, jesus christ, who would think I would wake up with OPD in my fucking bedroom?
cops leave and cathleen saunters in drunk. she wants to talk about it – she’s been crying. i’m too angry to talk about it. i tell her i’ll talk to her in the morning. we end up talking about it. i tell her i don’t want christine or her problems back at the house. it seems that for the last year we always end up getting in the middle of something. cathleen agrees. i knwo she’s her friend and I feel bad, but SHIT! When cops start entering my life – it’s a whole different manner.
So, here I am, several hours later and nearly two pots of cawfee down my throat. I didn’t think about having a cig with this whole fiasco going on — really. but i do realize that normally i would be sitting here chain smoking when i’m sitting here chomping on gum.
and my stomach still aches — but that is okay.
Other than the whole quitting smoking thing (it’s day 7 now — go me), this whole damn week has been weird.
Cartoon boy and I got into a little tiff as the time gets closer for me to go to Memphis. This pissed me off. I felt like he was having issues and I also felt like I was being punished because I liked him. because I do. I like him like him. I think he’s really keen. And he thought i was coming there to rock his world — i already know that i rock his world! I don’t need to go to Memphis to prove that!:P
I told him a 100 thousand times that i don’t expect anything — however that does not mean that i’m going to reject the idea of us getting together romantically — but I can’t think that far ahead. I DONT EVEN KNOW WHERE I’M GOING TO BE IN TWO MONTHS! he doesn’t want a girlfriend — it’s like we were both screaming about what we don’t want and neither one of us were really listening to the other. so i get all pissed off and moped around the house, pacing for a cigarette. but we made up and decided to let it go — which means that we ain’t talking about it and whatever happens happens. but i won’t be punished for liking him nor will i be punished because he likes me — that ain’t happening. it dawns on me that i feel like i’m breaking some sort of silence here — meaning that by not talking bout it, it doesn’t exist. but damnit, it’s bugging me. and if he’s gonna get angry at me for that, then fuck ’em. i stood up to OPD, i’m not letting some wussy cartoonist intimidate me. 😛 but we made up and now i’m going to Memphis — so whatever happens happens — i can’t think that far ahead — i don’t want to.
see the thing about cartoon boy and i is that there is no like /set groundwork/ for what we are. at the very least we are friends — very good friends. we’ve been orbiting each other for nearly two months now. you cannot be a part of someone’s life as intensely as we have been without feeling /something/. i mean, we both have been gushing over the other via our webpages. the whole world has been watching our relationship blossom. it’s weird. it’s not private nor is it intimate. i realize that bugs me a bit. he keeps threatening to leave his cam on the whole time i’m there. i’ll sock him if he does, but i know he’s only teasing me.
anyway, for once i can’t control the situation and i can’t predict what’s going to happen — and honestly , i like it like that. and i personally think it’s damn silly that we were arguing about it (to be honest — that’s the only thing we argue about when we have argued). and i think that by doing so, we are already adding unnecessary pressure. i think we will honestly be fine. he always plays the devils advocate and i play the optimist.
“i’m not a gambling man lisa — i always lose.”
“stick with me kid, i always win.”
and then! i get the news that one of my best friends was going to marry a guy (out of the blue) that she has been seeing on and off for nearly nine years. but see — he’s an ex-con, drug addict and he’s beaten her up more than once. he semi-kidnapped her son and took her car and had me worrying to bits about her because of this. she then tells me that he didn’t show up for the wedding and when she does end up talking to him again, finds out he’s got the preliminary paperwork for marrying ANOTHER GIRL (whose in jail right now for felionous assault)!!! I mean, hello here!! lets look at the big picture shall we? He’s beaten my friend up, he’s stolen money from her — and she keeps telling me she’s in love with him! Argh!! and now she’s telling me that she’s asked him to move in with her!?!? I told her if that were so — then i’m making NO PLANS to move in with her — I don’t want that crap in my life. Let’s use tonight as an example shall we.
I told her I loved her (I do) and I worry about her — but it’s her life. She knows how I feel about this whole thing. But i wash my whole hands of the matter. and she knows that i’ll always be there for her — just — not when he’s around, I won’t do it. I refuse to.
I utterly realize that the two above people will be pissed of (rightly so I’m thinking) that i’m discussing this so publicly but you know what? I don’t care. It’s a part of my life. deal with it.
so now it’s 5am and i find that i want to laugh because it all seems so absurd. i always joke about how i love melodrama but i’m getting pretty convinced that someone up there doesn’t like me.
For instance, I’ve applied to five schools: UofMemphis, Western Michigan U, Michigan State, Old Dominion U, UofGeorgia Athens.
Western has already accepted me.
Michigan State and UofGeorgia Athens did not due to that my application was not in on time.
Old Dominion won’t return my fucking phone calls.
UofMemphis claims it needs my HIGH SCHOOL TRANSCRIPTS before processing my application. Uh — okay. When I asked “why”, find out that since I have less than 60 credits that they need to find out what classes I took in high school. I was like “Jesus christ, I went to TWO high schools in TWO countries and also took my GED.” Then I had to fight with them on THAT and research Michigan Department of Education on where to have my GED scores sent to them. Yesh, theoretically I never “graduated from high school”. I got a lot of shit from my parents and my brother who loves teasing me about the fact that I never “finished” high school. My mother loves rubbing it in, the fucking bitch. If you want to lose me as a friend, you start bringing this up. I will, never ever, talk to you again. My IQ is 145 and i scored something like 1300 on my SAT’s and scored in the top 3-5% on my GED. I don’t need to prove my intelligence to ANYONE. thank you please drive through.
Suddenly I’m feeling very defensive and shtuff.
I don’t want to today — I’m feeling overall pretty good despite everything. So, I think I’ll leave this at that then.
An Announcement
For the last couple of weeks I’ve been writing about my experiences on finding other journals on the web. And to my surprise, I’m finding that I’m more popular than I thought. Which kind of surprises me. Well, wait, I’m an egotistical bitch — I know I rock.
But anyway! One thing I’ve been noticing is that there is a few web sites that have been doing a new “entry” everyday in some sort of genre. bittersweets.org specializes in love lost. ember.org specializes in falling in love or first time love. kvetch.com specializes in complaining.
so i was thinking about how i had a domain that wasn’t being utilized and i realize that it would be neat to have a new entry, if you will, everyday of a quip of someone’s life. real or made up, it did not matter, but i thought it could encompass everything. there are no plots, guidelines or characters. all you need is an immagination.
On saturday I launched TrippingOnStars. Every day, a new quip will be put up showcasing a peek into someone’s life — real and imaginary. Go check it out and let me know what you think.
and so..
now it’s later and i have already driven Justin to BART (cos he’s too lazy to walk). justin had gone back to bed after the cops had left and woke up humming the song “Bad Boys” from “Cops” — and telling me that if I would have kept running my mouth I would have ended up being someone’s bitch in jail. heh. i can see it now. that would have been funny.
i’ve also decided, after two pots of cawfee, that i’m in a pretty good mood today. cheerful. hyper. excited about finally going to the doctors. if your in a grumpy mood — please don’t come talk to me. i don’t want you to rain on my parade.
x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x,
moi
you are SUCH my bitch
i hate feeling right.
or something.
remember long ago when you would meet someone and you would like them, like, almost instantly. and things clicked really hard between the two. time goes on and you find that you’ve become almost, not obsessed, but, engulfed with that person. and then you’ve changed how you react to that person. and this has nothing to do with liking the person, because you really really like them, but it has everything to do with your immortal soul.
i was thinking of all the relationships I’ve been in and things that have been coming and going in my own life. I’ve been wiggin’ out for the last few days, I’m sorry. i think some people are beginning to wonder if me quitting smoking is really all that grand of an idea. the cravings weren’t so bad today, but, it’s been less than two days, bear with me.
anyway.
i was thinking of how once people get to the point in their head and their comfortable with themselves and they like where they are at. and sooner or later, once they get comfortable and find themselves in a place to be a relationship, they don’t want a relationship. or they are scared. or they freak out internally.
i can always see the signs coming. I’m so used to it by now, that it’s become second skin. first it’s the missing of the cute little nicknames or emails. and the teasing suddenly gets to be wholly defensive. you find that everything you say suddenly is scrutinized. and if you ask them what’s going on, they tell you it’s nothing, they are feeling fine — what’s YOUR problem. so you say okay, because you want to believe them right? I mean, that’s what you want to believe. because they wouldn’t treat you so shabbily.
but then you notice you’re not talking as much anymore and that when you do talk the content is somewhat stunted and slow. you find you no longer have anything to say because you are SO damn paranoid about what your going to say. then you notice that you just don’t talk anymore and then it becomes nothing. they were just this person that you met.
but see, the thing is, I’ve talked to people after that last stage, and it’s ALWAYS the same damn answer: i was scared. scared of what? scared that i would fall in love/jump off of a cliff/lose myself/lose my identity. it always becomes this almost necessant NEED to follow those same steps. and later on down the road, all the damn wondering of what’s going on or what could have BEEN gets to you and so the next person you meet you deal with and it’s okay. your fine. and or maybe they aren’t that intense or exciting or whatever and so you just go with the flow this time because it’s easier.
gash, I’m babbling such non-sense.
i’ve been going around the office going “i don’t want a cigarette, right?” and everyone has been “yep, you don’t want a cigarette.”
I WOULD KILL SOMEONE FOR A CIGARETTE RIGHT NOW!!!!!
I just re-read what I wrote — and you know what, I know most of that is true. But you know, if someone (anyone really) can’t well.
LISA IS WIGGIN OUT!!
god, i don’t know what’s wrong with me. for the last two days i’ve been feeling WEIRD.
Lisa: I forget why I’m quitting.
Bean: because you don’t want to sound like a carpet cleaner when you’re 40.
Oh yeah.
well duh.
You see, Bean quit smoking over a month ago. And has been using wellbutrin to take the edge off.
I have not been using any drugs, stimulants or even books.
I just went cold turkey.
21.5 hours
Since I’ve had a cigarette.
I told Justin that this was going to get damn annoying: me announcing every time I looked at the clock since the last time i had a cigarette. he said that was okay.
but.
please don’t congratulate me yet on quitting. wait till it’s been a few days or a week or something. this IS the longest time I’ve gone without a cigarette, but, i don’t want to give false hope to anyone least of all to myself.
but I know I can do this!
My horroscope told me to be humble and so I’m being humble! Actually it said “Humble yourself by taking public transportation or doing laundry.”
Uh, hello here.
I just did laundry yesterday so BITE ME!
rituals
the one thing i spoke about was the rituals of smoking and that is what I’m going to miss. see, like right now, it’s early in the morning (depending on your view point — it could be late at night), and I’m drinking cawfee. if i was smoking, i would have a smoke burning in the ashtray next to me. just the smell would be enough some times. but see, even then i would let cigarettes just burn out without even touching them.
i told justin i was going to get kicked out of the artists community because i was no longer a smoker. he said writers don’t have to smoke. i said “uh, what about my whole dream of being that husky voiced alcoholic slut sitting at the end of the bar with the 10 best sellers behind me.” he said “oh yeah.”
it’s all about image.
really.
smoking has been a good part of my life for over 10 years. if not longer. i was a young innocent maiden when i started smoking and now I’m a.. 🙂
24 HOURS! YEAH! BABY!
go lisa, get your groove on. it’s your birthday. do the cabbage path. oh yeah.
I’d like to thank the academy and my producer and the director for being so great!
Oh wait, wrong speech.
shuffle shuffle
Actually, I have a lot to say on this subject 🙂 The people who encouraged me. My inspiration. And you know — it’s time for me to go to work! So, I’ll pick this back up at work kids.
quickie
as it would figure, time is my enemy. i’ve spent the last 20-25 minutes trying to get things situated so that i could write a quickie chronicle. but then i wasn’t able to route, my web pages were coming up slower than molasses in January and i had to fix the font face on the cam page. i’ve been up for almost an hour and the only thing i’ve been able to accomplish is getting Justin off to BART.
but hey, i found my cell phone in my car. and here i thought i had lost it.
i’m in a strange mood. a shelled up mood, if you will. the night before last, christine showed up from Texas and her and her daughter are staying with us. add in Charlie’s friends coming over and the house is too damn full. there are already four of us that live here, and while i generally don’t mind people being over (look at the people i’ve had come over) for the last couple days i’ve felt like Greta Garbo “I vont to be alone”. i don’t have privacy and it’s driving me mad.
mike says it’s because i can’t get naked on the cam for him.
ha, yeah right. the way i’ve been feeling about my body lately, ain’t no one seeing me naked — let alone cartoon boy.
this past saturday, i had made two great accomplishments for lisa.
- I went to the movies alone.
- I went to a party alone.
i had, never ever, done those things before and taking myself out on a date (if you will) seemingly seared my independence even more so.
i’m also into chapter two of my book. but i won’t talk about that. bad ju ju.
the other thing i have never done alone before was go to a bar. i remember mike and i talking about this way back when we first met on-line and i remember him quipping that if we should ever meet, he was going to throw me out of the car door and into the nearest pub. alone.
every single time i’ve gone somewhere publicly, i’ve always gone with someone. however, i have gone to dinner by myself and that isn’t a big deal. Someone i used to be friends with said he admired me for going out alone — that by default people are social creatures and i had the chutzpah to do it solo.
i’m not feeling anything other than BLAH with a capital b (woooo pretty).
i’ve also begun to obsess about my body worse then usual lately. mix in with justin telling me how freaking beautiful i am is driving me mad. that whole “christ, i’m fat” routine that i thought i had kicked my ass out of a long time ago. but i’ve become obsessed with my body and have increased working out and eating better. the fucked up thing (wouldn’t you know) is that the damn scale isn’t showing any improvements at all! no weight gain and hence no weight loss.
and i really hate my hair.
i don’t know why i’m in such a funk as of late — i was doing fine earlier this week and now it’s just plummeted.
i really hate feeling insecure.
i’ll be back later, i have to go do 60 crunches before i jump in the shower.
muzak
i was sitting here, looking at the stack of 20 or CDs sitting on top of pleiades, and realized that i had nothing but depressing music. GEEZ!
Now Playing: Squirrel Nut Zippers:Hot.
Really bored?
Here is a list of all the cds I own.
I’m so cool beavis.
what’s sad is that i need another cd-rack. mine is erm, filled. i have no where am near danny though — he’s got over 500 CDs at last count. probably closer to a 1000. what’s even sadder is that i look at it and there is NOTHING there i want to listen to. grrrr. but that’s alright though, i have four or five new CDs showing up 🙂
thank god for mp3s. but you didn’t hear me say that.
ARGH!!!!!!!!!
My damn short attention span. I spend too much time at second spin. Here is a list of CDs I want. I’ll take ’em used. I’m not picky:
ArtistThe JudyBats Ibid Ibid 3rd Bass Ibid |
CDDaylight(cd-single) Hold Your Horses – Judybats Rarities 1 When Southern Bells Derelicts of Dialect Cactus Album |
Shit shit shit.
I’m sure, there are like a gazillion cds I want. However, I’m having an attack of amnesia.
Now Playing: JudyBats : Pain (Makes Me Beautiful).
Jesus christ on a pogostick!
Amazon.com has NO mention of this cd or anything by the Bats!! lemme try cdnow.com. yeah that’s it. GOOD GOD! Nothing at cdnow! Christ!! SOB!! One of the best bands from Tennessee in gods knows how long and well hell — best band in the late 80s/90s and freaking NOTHING. NOTHING AT CDUNIVERSE.COM EITHER!
It’s a conspiracy!!
I can’t find Judybats but they have Spoken word by Jewel?!? What’s up with that. I read her crap standing in a line one day at Barnes and Noble. The stupid bitch wrote a poem (in tribute to Charles Bukowski) called “Bukowsky’s Widow”. The dumb cunt spelled his goddamn name wrong! Gash.
I’m angsty. Well. Truth be told.
truth, justice and the lisa way
Ed.: Just got back from seeing Star Wars: Phantom Menace for the second time. DARTH MAUL IS SO SEXY! And I’ll probably see it one more time.
but anyway.
I was having a conversation with you know who (I swore I wouldn’t mention him again for a few days. I sound like a sappy high school girl. Next thing you know I’ll be drawing hearts an flowers!), but i digress, about trust, cheating and other predicaments.
now this particular person had has lovers cheat on him. he has trust issues. and i have no problem explaining things to him about people. i know a lot of people.
But again, I digress.
Anyone whose a fan of this site and has read back through all my pieces knows that I’m a HUGE fan of trust/honesty and commitment. Lord knows, all the whining I do on relationships, i was the one getting dumped on FAR MORE often then dumping of people. And in my whole life, I’ve only cheated twice. Once in high school on this guy Chris who I later found out had been cheating on me the whole time and dumped me for said girl. Alan cheated on me, Miguel cheated on me, the list is endless.
The second time I cheated on someone was with Danny, with Michael (I know too many damn Michaels!). (Miguel went by mike as well. Do you know see why my theory of ever male I know named Michael either dates a girl whose with someone or cheats on their girlfriend? It’s impossible!). I’m not proud of what I’ve done. And I have regretted it ever since then. I couldn’t have told Danny “I’m Sorry” enough to make it go away. I’ve done a lot of stupid things in my lifetime and a lot of stuff that I regret, but it has made me the person I am today. This is me.
Now, I used to believe in one-on-one relationships. My experiences with Jeff taught me about polyamory — and then I conceded that polyamory was for people who are afraid to make commitment. On the other hand, polyamorous relationships can have it’s benefits and as long as adults are consenting I don’t see a problem.
I’ve grown up. I’ve matured.
But, in all honesty, when Pawl and I used to talk about relationships and whatnot, and the possibility of US being in a relationship, and he said he didn’t care who I did as long as I came back to him. And sometimes that sounded fine — because I liked the idea of being FREE. But most of the time, It killed me because it showed just how little respect we had for each other. It didn’t grain with me at all.
But for the last couple of months, I’ve been doing some serious thinking. I’ve read all the books on commitment and polyamory, I’ve formed my own opinions for me.
I think, above and beyond anything else, trust and honesty is the way to go. If you are in a committed relationship with someone, and it’s monogamous, then it should remain as such. If you can’t keep your dick/pussy in your pants long enough to break up with the person, that shows, to me, how much disrespect you have for that person. I’ve been down that route. Especially when your bf of on/off of five years calls you and tells you “Hey — this 40yo chick just sucked me off. Everything I do, I do for you baby!” I still cringe when I hear those words.
My own personal experience is that after Alan dumped for another chyk (whom he had been cheating on me with). For three years I was single. I swore that no man would ever have my heart ever again. Not like that. It was too painful. It hurt way too much. I could never ever love like that. Proof in point, when I saw an Alan duplicate last year, my stomach dropped to the floor and I almost started crying. In the middle of the restaurant no less. I still loved the bastard after all these years. It never goes away, the pain just dims to a fading memory.
And I know where my faults lie. The internet is safe, c’mon it’s true. You can form intense relationships that last for days and feel like years. You get to know all the person you can and there is always something missing. I’ve said this publicly to my friends too many times: I like knowing I can see the person when I want to see them. Meaning, they don’t get the full Lisa-effect. They get what I choose to share with them. It’s safe. No real hurt involved. Nothing. It gets easier as time goes on. You put on this mask and you become a shell of yourself. They will never see how you look at certain movies, how you taste, how you feel against them at night. It’s a sham. I hate internet relationships. But in my own shyness offset, it’s the only way I could deal because after putting so much trust and hope into one person and have that person walk all over you — it’s hard.
the irony is that right now, i’m in a quasi-relationship. i refuse to define it. I know it’s there. this is something real. Because I can’t not help what he would look like when he laughs. And I took that piece of information and chewed on it for awhile and realize that i need to make it somewhat real. No more pixilated pictures. Nothing. I’ve spoken on this time and time again. It has to be real or it’s nothing.
i keep digressing.
justin used to laugh at all the mens i would have on a string — and it’s easy and it’s true. and every single one of those men on internet knew as well as i did that nothing would come of this. we would never meet. it was a diversion for whatever reason. and that’s okay too. and i’ve remained friends (for the most part) with those mens for a long time. good friends. more chances then not it was more platonic then romantic because the spark wasn’t there. and on the internet, everything is nothing but undercurrents and what not. they have other dalliances. i have mine. and then it ends.
earlier today when i got home from work, i was thinking about my friend victor.
i haven’t spoken to him in eons it seems, but he said something that struck in my mind: that the more a girl likes someone the more apt that she’s not going to use protection with that person. at first i laughed and said he was wrong, but went back to him a few days later and told him he was right. i looked back at my own relationships and knew that i was more apt to go condom-less the more i liked a person. but lisa has more self-respect for herself. a deep seeded fear after finding out that Alan not only slept with me bare-back but the bitch bare-back drove me insane. there has only been one person in the last five years i’ve slept without a condom on, and that was danny. we were monogamous (i used condoms with michael thank you) and i get checked every year. I don’t EVEN think about sleeping with someone without a condom now. it’s habit. one of the guys i car pool with left a condom in my car. i shoved it in my wallet. i started joking with my friends that it was for the “just in case” i ever met someone that i dug (hahahahahahahah). i always see the humour in that.
back on track lisa.
oh yeah, sorry.
so anyway, i started thinking about what victor said and related it to relationships. love can be defined by me in so many ways and i started thinking about all the guys i’ve liked in the past. how far would i go? for the most part, not very far. it would be as it was an that was that. but i noticed that once i started singling out things about a certain person. how much time i talk to them, email them, want to see them, everything else falls into place. you make allowances for that person that you wouldn’t make for others. what victor said was downright brilliant.
i’ve always been afraid on how to like someone again. really like someone. because the whole world is a stage and your the performer. and you really don’t want to fuck up. and i worry about that, worry that one of my little idosyncricies will shine through and that person will run away screaming in fear. there is so much in my head that has never been let out. i find myself recounting stories to whatshisname that never make it into regular conversation with anyone.
i liked justin, but I didn’t LIKE HIM LIKE HIM, if you knwo what I mean. I’ve only “liked” a few people in all those years — most I could give a shit about.
whoo boy. 🙂
i’ve made my decision, delirious and free.
i had this vision of who i was and who i wanted to be. i’ve recounted it several times over the years and lately within the last year — being in this constant blue funk. and lately i’ve noticed that i’ve been noticing the little things. the way the clouds hang over SF. The way Cat puckers when putting on lipstick, the angle of the shopping carts the homeless leave. the curve of my leg in shorts. things that in the past year went by in a blur.
i used to feel time was running out on me. i wouldn’t live long and that i would have nothing left to show for it. sometimes i wonder just how much you can say before you make a fool out of yourself.
in conclusion, i just want to say this: if you are in a relationship with someone, and you honestly are in love with them. tell them. daily. tell them you care. if you’re not in love with them, break up with them. leave them. find someone who can make you happy. Just don’t ever lie to them or cheat on them. You’ll regret it in the morning.
I’ve got a spring in my step lately and i’ve been feeling good. and maybe it’s because i’m taking time out for me for once. looking at who i am. feeling myself out.
and you know?
for once i like who i am.
and that, in itself is a small miracle.
Happy Birthday To Me
Seems pretty self-explanatory to me.
Strangers in Paradise
I can either write a really happy “OH GOD IT’S LISA-MAS DAY” type of chronicle or I can be utterly depressing.
Let’s do both.
I haven’t been feeling too hot as of late. Other than the usual melee of crap running around in my head, there really isn’t nothing that is driving me nuts but maybe the onslaught of my birthday. Everything is coming up Lisa recently but, the problem is that I cannot stop obsessing about the fact that I am getting older. It’s a part of life and i have accepted it as such. as i told Chuck last night on AIM, I’ll always feel 17 in my head. He said he felt 22. It works out perfect.
Anyway, last night I got home and there was a package from my mother in the mail. I was surprised actually that she sent me something because lately I’ve been thinking that I wouldn’t receive even a phone call from her or my dad. So Cat, Justin and I were talking when I opened up the package. Inside I found the following items:
- The deed to the house on Paris St that my mother bought for 70k in 1990. The house is being sold as part of her bankruptcy.
- Original marriage license dated July 2, 1971 for Marietta K. Preiss and Edison K. Rabey
- Immigration and naturalization papers for one Lisa M. Rabey dated February 14, 1973.
- Photocopy for a “Complaint of Divorce” between one Marietta K. Rabey and Edison K. Rabey dated January 22, 1974.
- Original copy of above.
- Certificate of baptism for one Lisa M. Rabey dated July 7th, 1973.
- Birth Certificate for one Edison K. Rabey, born May 22, 1927 in Gaspe Bay North, Quebec Canada to Thomas M. Rabey and Sarah McFee.
- Certificate of my first communion dated May 4th, 1980.
- Certificate of my confirmation dated April 13th, 1986.
- One “child identification card” for Lisa M. Rabey, dated 4.12.86. I stood 5’10 and 160lbs.
- Copy of baptismal certificate.
- “Deans List” honor award, dated May 1, 1988 while i was in high school.Mixed along that list was a cartoon my mom sent me (any cartoon she finds that seemingly is high tech or applicable to me, she sends to me) and a letter. Her beautiful handwriting on pink paper.
i read the letter to cat and justin. parts that i couldn’t read, i handed to cat to decipher for us. i joked that in high school her handwriting made it damn hard to copy for “excused absences” when i was off skipping. her letter pretty much said the same thing her letters have been saying as of late. she’s broke. she needs money. an itinerary of her complaints. cat almost cried when i put the letter down. we couldn’t figure out as a collective why she would send me the above stuff and that letter. dated June 2, 1999. arrived June 11, 1999. she didn’t even acknowledge or wished me a happy birthday.
there are about three people in the world that i’m in contact with who know of me from when I was living in Michigan: Sherry, Shelly, Jenni and Danny. Since I communicate with Jenni, Danny and Shelly on-line now, they know (or rather verify) that my mother is nucking futs. or fucking nuts. I emailed Shelly last night right before I watched Swingers with cat and justin.
We’re gonna spend half the night driving around the Hills looking for one party and then leaving ’cause it sucks, then we’re gonna look for this other party you heard about. But, Trent, all the parties and bars, they all suck. I spend half the night trying to talk to some girl who’s eyes are darting around to see if there’s someone more important she should be talking to. And it’s like I’m supposed to be happy ’cause she’s wearing a backpack? Half of them are nasty skanks who wouldn’t be shit if they weren’t surrounded by a bunch of drunken horny assholes. I’m not gonna be one of those assholes. I want to throw up. Some fuckin’ skank who is half the woman my girlfriend is is gonna front me? It makes me want to fuckin’ puke!
vinegette
yesterday was d-day at work. i had to have Y2K crap ready to go for FirstWorld and since all the idiots didn’t get it on time, I didn’t have it finished. And my own stuff wasn’t finished. I was running around like a chicken with her head cut off pulling systems apart. one of the jacks was dead and i couldn’t repatch it via the hub. two computers died on me. otto ripped apart four machines and dumped them in my cubicle to get finished. i said fuck it and left at 8pm. i’ll deal with the shit on Sunday.
Mike has been pushing me to write my book. i started getting all defensive about it and said something really nasty about his cartoons. i couldn’t believe i said it. after i said it, i opened mouth and inserted foot. i kept apologizing up and down to him and i still felt aghast at what i had said. and he said, “yeah i understand, it’s only my lifes work.” all i kept thinking about last night when i got home from work was how awful i felt for saying it. so in conversation last night, he asks me if i had purchased Strangers in Paradise yet. I said no. So I hurried off to amazon.com and bought it. i think it’s important to him that i ‘get’ why he loves cartoons (yeah he’s a kick ass artist. i got two Mikey comix for my birthday signed. i suddenly became cool in my office for his rendition of me looking at flowers).
I’ve never gotten into comix because, well, i dunno. just never thought about it before. in turn, he asked me to recommend a book to him for him to read. we went through a few possibilities and i hit the nail on the head with Heinlein. Since my turn on to Heinlein was by Jeff who thought I would dig it, I suggested Time Enough For Love as a good intro to his work. Mike agreed it seemed good, so as a surprise I ordered it for him. Hey, i’ve been feeling down the last few days and shop when i’m depressed. Thus explains the two new CDs, darth maul poster and other crap I’ve bought on-line. I didn’t think anything about it. So when I told him what I had done, he said he felt uncomfortable with it. I understood that and cancelled the order. Mike even mentioned it in his journal.
even though I understood it, i felt worse. I had insulted him twice. i wasn’t doing anything right, it felt like. it wasn’t me talking, it was the depression i was feeling.
mike kept turning the conversation around and we started talking about my book.
i sent him the two possible starter chapters i had worked on a year ago and he liked them.
now all i have to do is write it, he says. he wants me to send chapter by chapter as i go along. giving objective opinion.
jaffo said to be prepared to say “fuck you” to anyone who says anything to me about writing.
he’s on page 200 and something into his novel.
he’s my hero.
internet luv
From a TLC reader:
“you know, it’s weird you should write about ICQ random searches… Nov. of 97,
Crystal did a random search, found me… I lived in FL, she in MO, to make a
long story short (as I figured that’s the kind you’d like, if you like them at
all 🙂 ) I came up to MO to visit my grandfather the day after Christmas of
97, met Crystal on the 28th, we were engaged on Jan 1st 98, I moved here Jan.
12, 98, and we’re getting married two weeks from today…
BTW… happy birthday :)”
it’s 5:11pm and it’s my birthday. it seemed the more i sat here writing the more depressed i got. i went and did a few shots of liquid courage (ie: Skyy Vodka) and i feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I need to shake myself out of this.
Sonya just called and said that i had to bring girls over for the party tonight as only a few females are confirmed for showing up. All my female friends that I have invited couldn’t make it. I said “who cares” — let me make an ass out of myself tonight. It’s my fscking birthday!
I want to thank everyone for the flowers, books, cd’s, chocolates, cards and other goodies that I have gotten for my birthday. Every present was as unique as the person who sent them. You guys rock. I love you all.
x0x0x0x0x0x0x,
Lisa