So excited.... last minute ticket to the UofO/ USC game is mine, all mine...
Kick off in 2 hours 12 minutes.... whoop!!!
GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO DUCKS!
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Friday, October 30, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
It's October......
October always seems to be a time of reflection for me. 20 years ago, October changed my life.
Charmin died that October. Bill left that October. My favorite teacher died that October. That October sucked. It's really easy to go back to such a soul shaking time and wonder how different would I be, how different would life be, if that time had never happened? You can wonder, but never get an answer.
I can say how I changed because of it. Although I still miss Charmin and feel her loss as though she died yesterday, I think I can say that I'm a better person for having known and lost her. To a certain extent, I think I'm better at letting people know that I care about them because I truly realize that tomorrow might never come. I think I let people walk all over me a little more than I should and I tend to repress hurts and angers too much. For awhile, I think I was a nicer person because of her. Unfortunately, I think that I'm falling away from that as it gets harder for me to hide injury and anger. Everything is so close to the surface these days.
As a child, I was mean and hateful. I got a lot of shit from the other kids, first for being a fatty, later for being a bitch. Some how I found a place in the role of bully. Puberty actually calmed it some. Then I became friends with Charmin. She was fun and kind, a true gentle soul. Her favorite song was Nancy Sinatra's “These Boots are Made for Walkin” and she always did this silly butt shaking dance when she sang it. Her favorite movie was The Seventh Sign. She used to make these “cookies” that were really just melted chocolate with anything thrown in them... mostly Cheerios and coconut. The winter before her death, it snowed a lot, and we went sledding down the hill behind her house in heavy duty plastic bags. They didn't hold up very well but we had so much fun. Afterwards she made us hot chocolate and we made ice cream out of snow (it wasn't very good, but it was fun) Her dog, I can't remember his name, used to always wear a red bandanna around his neck. And her older brother and his friends were soooooooo cute and cool. Her big sister scared the shit out of me. Tucker. Her dog's name was Tucker.
In August of '89 she joined my family on a camping trip to Idaho. She'd never been out of Oregon before... little did we know this would be her only trip out of state. She and I rode all the way to Idaho in the back of the truck with the dogs. We sang and listened to music, drew silly faces on each other with Easy Cheese, and when we got really bored, we painted the dogs toenails candy apple red. Wow was Bill mad. He freaked out and told us to take it off, but all that did was make Smoke's entire paws bright pink. (Smoke was a white boxer)
At one point Charm and I rowed out into the lake on the raft, but a wind kicked up and we couldn't make it back. I hopped in the water and towed her back in the raft. (Not that I would ever admit it, but damn I was pooped when I got back to shore.) I remember the two of us sitting next to each other, feet in the water, giggling as the minnows ate the scabs from our mosquito bites. We flirted with the boys a few sites over, I choked on orange soda while laughing and it came out my nose. I was so mortally embarrassed.
It was a good trip with good memories. Unfortunately, some where along the way my hormones and teen angst kicked in. I got a little bent that she was allowed private time, and I wasn't... Although, really... now looking back, I can't see that I really wanted private time.. I think it was more that I was upset she didn't want to hang with me in those brief moments. I got irritated because she always wanted to do every thing. I'm fat and lazy. I didn't want to hike to ANOTHER waterfall. Twenty years later, who knows what my mom really said, but I heard "Why can't you be more like Charmin?" So I came back from vacation a little bitter.
Back at home, Charm moved up to the high school and we didn't really see each other as I was still only an eighth grader. Then one day Bill walked out of the room to make a phone call and came back in to say, "Charmin's dead."
................................................ I can't remember much of the months that followed but ohhhhh my god, I can replay that moment over and over in my head. The shock, panic, disbelief. Hysteria. I remember begging him to call back. It couldn't be true. Please, just call back.
Those are moments that change us forever.
I regret that I was such a snot. I hope she knew how special she is to me.
I regret that during her service I couldn't stand up and say it.
I regret that I couldn't be there for her mom. That's a huge guilt. Rationale tells me I was only 13 and having my own issues with coping, but I know that's something Charm would have wanted.
I regret that I wasn't more eager to do those hikes, those are memories I don't have anymore.
To this day, I refuse to use Charmin toilet paper. All my friends know it and respect it.
Most of that year is a blur to me, but I do remember Mrs. Robles standing during Charmin's memorial service and what she said has become a mantra to my life.
"No one is ever truly gone until no one remembers them any longer."
I remember.
Charmin died that October. Bill left that October. My favorite teacher died that October. That October sucked. It's really easy to go back to such a soul shaking time and wonder how different would I be, how different would life be, if that time had never happened? You can wonder, but never get an answer.
I can say how I changed because of it. Although I still miss Charmin and feel her loss as though she died yesterday, I think I can say that I'm a better person for having known and lost her. To a certain extent, I think I'm better at letting people know that I care about them because I truly realize that tomorrow might never come. I think I let people walk all over me a little more than I should and I tend to repress hurts and angers too much. For awhile, I think I was a nicer person because of her. Unfortunately, I think that I'm falling away from that as it gets harder for me to hide injury and anger. Everything is so close to the surface these days.
As a child, I was mean and hateful. I got a lot of shit from the other kids, first for being a fatty, later for being a bitch. Some how I found a place in the role of bully. Puberty actually calmed it some. Then I became friends with Charmin. She was fun and kind, a true gentle soul. Her favorite song was Nancy Sinatra's “These Boots are Made for Walkin” and she always did this silly butt shaking dance when she sang it. Her favorite movie was The Seventh Sign. She used to make these “cookies” that were really just melted chocolate with anything thrown in them... mostly Cheerios and coconut. The winter before her death, it snowed a lot, and we went sledding down the hill behind her house in heavy duty plastic bags. They didn't hold up very well but we had so much fun. Afterwards she made us hot chocolate and we made ice cream out of snow (it wasn't very good, but it was fun) Her dog, I can't remember his name, used to always wear a red bandanna around his neck. And her older brother and his friends were soooooooo cute and cool. Her big sister scared the shit out of me. Tucker. Her dog's name was Tucker.
In August of '89 she joined my family on a camping trip to Idaho. She'd never been out of Oregon before... little did we know this would be her only trip out of state. She and I rode all the way to Idaho in the back of the truck with the dogs. We sang and listened to music, drew silly faces on each other with Easy Cheese, and when we got really bored, we painted the dogs toenails candy apple red. Wow was Bill mad. He freaked out and told us to take it off, but all that did was make Smoke's entire paws bright pink. (Smoke was a white boxer)
At one point Charm and I rowed out into the lake on the raft, but a wind kicked up and we couldn't make it back. I hopped in the water and towed her back in the raft. (Not that I would ever admit it, but damn I was pooped when I got back to shore.) I remember the two of us sitting next to each other, feet in the water, giggling as the minnows ate the scabs from our mosquito bites. We flirted with the boys a few sites over, I choked on orange soda while laughing and it came out my nose. I was so mortally embarrassed.
It was a good trip with good memories. Unfortunately, some where along the way my hormones and teen angst kicked in. I got a little bent that she was allowed private time, and I wasn't... Although, really... now looking back, I can't see that I really wanted private time.. I think it was more that I was upset she didn't want to hang with me in those brief moments. I got irritated because she always wanted to do every thing. I'm fat and lazy. I didn't want to hike to ANOTHER waterfall. Twenty years later, who knows what my mom really said, but I heard "Why can't you be more like Charmin?" So I came back from vacation a little bitter.
Back at home, Charm moved up to the high school and we didn't really see each other as I was still only an eighth grader. Then one day Bill walked out of the room to make a phone call and came back in to say, "Charmin's dead."
................................................ I can't remember much of the months that followed but ohhhhh my god, I can replay that moment over and over in my head. The shock, panic, disbelief. Hysteria. I remember begging him to call back. It couldn't be true. Please, just call back.
Those are moments that change us forever.
I regret that I was such a snot. I hope she knew how special she is to me.
I regret that during her service I couldn't stand up and say it.
I regret that I couldn't be there for her mom. That's a huge guilt. Rationale tells me I was only 13 and having my own issues with coping, but I know that's something Charm would have wanted.
I regret that I wasn't more eager to do those hikes, those are memories I don't have anymore.
To this day, I refuse to use Charmin toilet paper. All my friends know it and respect it.
Most of that year is a blur to me, but I do remember Mrs. Robles standing during Charmin's memorial service and what she said has become a mantra to my life.
"No one is ever truly gone until no one remembers them any longer."
I remember.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
Talk Thursday: The Fabric of Connection
Sometimes the weave is not as strong as you think, sometimes it's stronger.
I have three best friends. Thank the gods my mom is my mom. I count her as one of my best friends, and she really can't ditch me. Life has taken the other two to the ends of the earth, but the weave is still strong.
Chole is in Alaska, I got to see her for a couple of hours in June, not nearly long enough, because her mom is also one of her best friends, and a time hog. Tandy moved to Australia in the name of love.
Tandy just visited and was here for two months. I took her back to the airport yesterday... some crap about missing her husband and all that. We did nothing special during her stay. Money was an issue, so really we just spent most of the time hanging out and basically living like the old days when she was my roommate... Except she didn't sleep all day (I did, due to working graveyard). She worked with Ben to earn Cub Scout beltloops and saved my butt one night when one of my den leaders had a family emergency. She helped him find a "like" for math again (cuz no one really loves math- that's just crazy talk)
We argue a lot. I'm way more patriotic than she is, which is not at all. We tend to listen to different kinds of music. We have different views on society, and raising children, and government. At one point during her visit, we were arguing and she said something about Hawaii not wanting to be part of the United States anymore. And I, just to piss her off, said "Well if I were president, I say everyone who doesn't want to be in the US anymore, raise your hand- Then I'd shoot them all between the eyes, because that's treason." She looked at me like I'd completely lost my mind, "How very communistic of you, Psam." And then I spent 15 minutes justifying my ridiculous response. Another twenty, and everything was fine- like it never happened and it was never again mentioned that I'd suggested the government wipe out Hawaii.
So now she's gone. I miss her terribly. It's hard, knowing that I'll probably not see her for another 2 or 3 years. We'll talk on line, and the occasional phone call. She's not gone, gone. But who's going to go to the porn store with me and tell me which ones are good or a waste of money and horribly embarrass me? No one else suprises me with Dutch Bros in bed. Who's going to sing songs from Buffy's "Once More with Feeling" episode, or "The Hero of Canton" from Firefly?? (Chole, but she's in Alaska)
Tandy is my crazy friend. She can be abrasive, childish, and weird, and thrives on alienating people.
Chole is my friend that I can have deep, mind bending conversations with about religion, politics, science, or the paranormal.
The three of us together is a guaranteed mind bending, soul shaking, insane experience.
I miss my friends, but I've discovered something interesting. Those friends that I had growing up, that I thought would be my friends for life, and aren't... I miss those friendships, but I don't feel a loss and never really did. Tandy and Chole will definitely be my friends forever. I miss them constantly. They are so in tuned, so interwoven into what makes me who I am that I truly fell as though a piece of me is missing. In some bizarre, nonsexual way, I feel that they are my soul mates. In the words of Burp, "Life isn't as cool or fun without them."
Love you guys.
~Ohhhh Tandy took some fab, ego boosting pics of me while she was here. I'll share the one that prob won't melt my mom's brain. (LOL her comment when she saw them, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING??) (May I point out that you were about my age when you had yours done?)
I have three best friends. Thank the gods my mom is my mom. I count her as one of my best friends, and she really can't ditch me. Life has taken the other two to the ends of the earth, but the weave is still strong.
Chole is in Alaska, I got to see her for a couple of hours in June, not nearly long enough, because her mom is also one of her best friends, and a time hog. Tandy moved to Australia in the name of love.
Tandy just visited and was here for two months. I took her back to the airport yesterday... some crap about missing her husband and all that. We did nothing special during her stay. Money was an issue, so really we just spent most of the time hanging out and basically living like the old days when she was my roommate... Except she didn't sleep all day (I did, due to working graveyard). She worked with Ben to earn Cub Scout beltloops and saved my butt one night when one of my den leaders had a family emergency. She helped him find a "like" for math again (cuz no one really loves math- that's just crazy talk)
We argue a lot. I'm way more patriotic than she is, which is not at all. We tend to listen to different kinds of music. We have different views on society, and raising children, and government. At one point during her visit, we were arguing and she said something about Hawaii not wanting to be part of the United States anymore. And I, just to piss her off, said "Well if I were president, I say everyone who doesn't want to be in the US anymore, raise your hand- Then I'd shoot them all between the eyes, because that's treason." She looked at me like I'd completely lost my mind, "How very communistic of you, Psam." And then I spent 15 minutes justifying my ridiculous response. Another twenty, and everything was fine- like it never happened and it was never again mentioned that I'd suggested the government wipe out Hawaii.
So now she's gone. I miss her terribly. It's hard, knowing that I'll probably not see her for another 2 or 3 years. We'll talk on line, and the occasional phone call. She's not gone, gone. But who's going to go to the porn store with me and tell me which ones are good or a waste of money and horribly embarrass me? No one else suprises me with Dutch Bros in bed. Who's going to sing songs from Buffy's "Once More with Feeling" episode, or "The Hero of Canton" from Firefly?? (Chole, but she's in Alaska)
Tandy is my crazy friend. She can be abrasive, childish, and weird, and thrives on alienating people.
Chole is my friend that I can have deep, mind bending conversations with about religion, politics, science, or the paranormal.
The three of us together is a guaranteed mind bending, soul shaking, insane experience.
I miss my friends, but I've discovered something interesting. Those friends that I had growing up, that I thought would be my friends for life, and aren't... I miss those friendships, but I don't feel a loss and never really did. Tandy and Chole will definitely be my friends forever. I miss them constantly. They are so in tuned, so interwoven into what makes me who I am that I truly fell as though a piece of me is missing. In some bizarre, nonsexual way, I feel that they are my soul mates. In the words of Burp, "Life isn't as cool or fun without them."
Love you guys.
~Ohhhh Tandy took some fab, ego boosting pics of me while she was here. I'll share the one that prob won't melt my mom's brain. (LOL her comment when she saw them, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING??) (May I point out that you were about my age when you had yours done?)
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Just Doing Research
Children's Oncology Services, Inc. (COSI) believes that a diagnosis of cancer should not prevent a child from experiencing the simple joys of childhood. Through the One Step At A Time programs, COSI offers camp experiences and educational programs throughout the year that allow children with cancer to just be kids. Our programs offer fun, friendship and support in a safe and nurturing environment.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Talk Thursday: Life, or Something Like It
I have been struggling with this topic. Mostly what came to me were all the gazillions of things I MEANT to do with this life. Nobody likes a whiner. I searched the web for some inspirational bit of text from a movie, book, or poem. Some great proverb or SOMETHING. Nothing.
What does keep popping into my head is this little poem from when I was a kid. I had atrocious handwriting and my mom would make me copy poems everyday during the summer for practice. (It didn't work, I still have bad handwriting!) That's where I remember this poem from.
Why is it so fitting? I've been trying to figure out my inadequacies, instead of just giving you a list of all the things I've meant to do. What I realized is, I've ALWAYS been this way. As a child, I would get grounded from my BOOKS, can you believe it?, because I would read ALL day and not get anything else done. It's not that I meant to ignore my chores, I just "forgot". Today, I meant to make that phone call, I meant to start that diet, or workout, or to give up smoking. I meant to try my hand at poetry again. I meant to do my laundry. I meant to bake some scones to take to work.
What's that saying? "The path to Hell is paved with good intentions.." (Good thing I don't believe in Hell!)
Somehow realizing that this is nothing new for me is easier to take. I don't feel like such a loser. I WAS BORN THIS WAY!!! Love it or leave it, I'm a procrastinator, and forgetful, and a bit lazy. And Goddamn it, I hate talking on the phone.
So here is that poem from my youth, that seems to have stuck with me all these years. And somehow, if you close your eyes and hop up and down and flap your arms like a duck, it fits the topic.... I think.
I Meant To Do My Work Today
by Richard LeGallienne
I meant to do my work today,
But a brown bird sang in the apple tree,
And a butterfly flitted across the field,
And all the leaves were calling me.
And the wind went sighing over the land,
Tossing the grasses to and fro,
And a rainbow held out its shining hand,
So what could I do but laugh and go?
What does keep popping into my head is this little poem from when I was a kid. I had atrocious handwriting and my mom would make me copy poems everyday during the summer for practice. (It didn't work, I still have bad handwriting!) That's where I remember this poem from.
Why is it so fitting? I've been trying to figure out my inadequacies, instead of just giving you a list of all the things I've meant to do. What I realized is, I've ALWAYS been this way. As a child, I would get grounded from my BOOKS, can you believe it?, because I would read ALL day and not get anything else done. It's not that I meant to ignore my chores, I just "forgot". Today, I meant to make that phone call, I meant to start that diet, or workout, or to give up smoking. I meant to try my hand at poetry again. I meant to do my laundry. I meant to bake some scones to take to work.
What's that saying? "The path to Hell is paved with good intentions.." (Good thing I don't believe in Hell!)
Somehow realizing that this is nothing new for me is easier to take. I don't feel like such a loser. I WAS BORN THIS WAY!!! Love it or leave it, I'm a procrastinator, and forgetful, and a bit lazy. And Goddamn it, I hate talking on the phone.
So here is that poem from my youth, that seems to have stuck with me all these years. And somehow, if you close your eyes and hop up and down and flap your arms like a duck, it fits the topic.... I think.
I Meant To Do My Work Today
by Richard LeGallienne
I meant to do my work today,
But a brown bird sang in the apple tree,
And a butterfly flitted across the field,
And all the leaves were calling me.
And the wind went sighing over the land,
Tossing the grasses to and fro,
And a rainbow held out its shining hand,
So what could I do but laugh and go?
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Another Castaway.....?
I hope you don't mind if I do two. This is a topic that I feel passionately about.
Some people think I'm hopelessly naive. Yeah, I've been duped once or twice, but I refuse to be the kind of person who is afraid to stick their neck out for someone else.
The other night we had a drunk 17 yr old brought in by the police for a medical all-clear-ready-for-jail exam. Pretty standard. The kid was hysterical for most of the visit and I'm having a really hard time figuring out how to deal with it.
The cops story is that the kid was visiting his mother's house to see his little brother (he doesn't live in the home as he's HOMELESS) was caught taking shots and smoking a joint with the brother. Stepdad flipped out and tried to kick out the kid who apparently picked up a VHS tape and threw it at the dad, hitting him in the face (supposedly breaking it). Punched the dad in the head and ran out the door with the little brother. And the police saw the shattered video on the living room floor and the bruise on the dad's face. Hmmmm? At some point prior to this, the older boy supposedly taken a knife and sliced his arm open in some attempt to show the younger how to be a "gangsta". And according to stepdad, younger brother is a straight A student and only acts up when older brother is around.
The kid's story. He cut his arm slicing a pizza. He did have a couple shots. His stepdad flipped out for some reason (I'm not sure I heard), and started hitting the two boys. The older swung back and got the younger boy out of the house. He states that they were on their way to call the police when he was picked up. He states that he willingly went with the police and that everything was fine until he was handed over to another cop for transport. (The one that brought him to us.) He states that this cop beat him down for shit talking. The cop ADMITTED that the kid wasn't resisting arrest. He admitted he hit the kid to the ground twice. He admitted the he pushed the kids face against the car tire (he had marks from it amidst the scratches and bruises on his face). The kid was hysterical about this cop beating him... As if in shock. like "Dude, you're a cop!" And to be honest, the cop looked pretty freakin smug.
The kid admitted he was on probation and kept loudly requesting his PO be called. He was ignored.
He admitted he has a drinking problem and said he was in outpatient treatment.
He also stated he was bipolar. (If he's bipolar and homeless, how's he get his meds?)
Aside from the ranting about police brutality, his only other concern was that someone check on his little brother because he feared for his well-being, stating several times that his brother was probably getting the shit kicked out of him. He was ignored.
Throughout his visit he talked about being beaten, not just by his stepdad, but by at least 2 of his mom's previous boyfriends. No one even blinked.
When I finally pulled a nurse aside and asked why he was being ignored I was told, "he's a homeless 17yr old criminal, you're going to believe anything he says?"
It's not about believing anything. The bare fucking truth of it is that they are required by law to report all suspicion or reports of abuse. And they sent that kid out the door with someone he stated had abused him.
Let's look at some statistics...
-Over 60% of people in drug rehabilitation centers report being abused or neglected as a child.*
-Children who have been sexually abused are 3.8 times more likely develop drug addiction*
-About 80% of 21 year olds that were abused as children met criteria for at least one psychological disorder.*
-Children who experience child abuse & neglect are 59% more likely to be arrested as a juvenile, 28% more likely to be arrested as an adult, and 30% more likely to commit violent crime.*
-66% of the homeless have problems with alcohol, drug abuse, or mental illness. **
-22% of the homeless have been physically assaulted.**
-In another study, 46% of runaway and homeless youth had been physically abused and 17% were forced into unwanted sexual activity by a family or household member***
Statistics show that boy was probably telling a lot of truth in his drunken belligerence. And I'm disgusted to know that the people I work with have become so jaded that they can't see the root of truth, or care enough.
* Stats reported by ChildHelp
Some people think I'm hopelessly naive. Yeah, I've been duped once or twice, but I refuse to be the kind of person who is afraid to stick their neck out for someone else.
The other night we had a drunk 17 yr old brought in by the police for a medical all-clear-ready-for-jail exam. Pretty standard. The kid was hysterical for most of the visit and I'm having a really hard time figuring out how to deal with it.
The cops story is that the kid was visiting his mother's house to see his little brother (he doesn't live in the home as he's HOMELESS) was caught taking shots and smoking a joint with the brother. Stepdad flipped out and tried to kick out the kid who apparently picked up a VHS tape and threw it at the dad, hitting him in the face (supposedly breaking it). Punched the dad in the head and ran out the door with the little brother. And the police saw the shattered video on the living room floor and the bruise on the dad's face. Hmmmm? At some point prior to this, the older boy supposedly taken a knife and sliced his arm open in some attempt to show the younger how to be a "gangsta". And according to stepdad, younger brother is a straight A student and only acts up when older brother is around.
The kid's story. He cut his arm slicing a pizza. He did have a couple shots. His stepdad flipped out for some reason (I'm not sure I heard), and started hitting the two boys. The older swung back and got the younger boy out of the house. He states that they were on their way to call the police when he was picked up. He states that he willingly went with the police and that everything was fine until he was handed over to another cop for transport. (The one that brought him to us.) He states that this cop beat him down for shit talking. The cop ADMITTED that the kid wasn't resisting arrest. He admitted he hit the kid to the ground twice. He admitted the he pushed the kids face against the car tire (he had marks from it amidst the scratches and bruises on his face). The kid was hysterical about this cop beating him... As if in shock. like "Dude, you're a cop!" And to be honest, the cop looked pretty freakin smug.
The kid admitted he was on probation and kept loudly requesting his PO be called. He was ignored.
He admitted he has a drinking problem and said he was in outpatient treatment.
He also stated he was bipolar. (If he's bipolar and homeless, how's he get his meds?)
Aside from the ranting about police brutality, his only other concern was that someone check on his little brother because he feared for his well-being, stating several times that his brother was probably getting the shit kicked out of him. He was ignored.
Throughout his visit he talked about being beaten, not just by his stepdad, but by at least 2 of his mom's previous boyfriends. No one even blinked.
When I finally pulled a nurse aside and asked why he was being ignored I was told, "he's a homeless 17yr old criminal, you're going to believe anything he says?"
It's not about believing anything. The bare fucking truth of it is that they are required by law to report all suspicion or reports of abuse. And they sent that kid out the door with someone he stated had abused him.
Let's look at some statistics...
-Over 60% of people in drug rehabilitation centers report being abused or neglected as a child.*
-Children who have been sexually abused are 3.8 times more likely develop drug addiction*
-About 80% of 21 year olds that were abused as children met criteria for at least one psychological disorder.*
-Children who experience child abuse & neglect are 59% more likely to be arrested as a juvenile, 28% more likely to be arrested as an adult, and 30% more likely to commit violent crime.*
-66% of the homeless have problems with alcohol, drug abuse, or mental illness. **
-22% of the homeless have been physically assaulted.**
-In another study, 46% of runaway and homeless youth had been physically abused and 17% were forced into unwanted sexual activity by a family or household member***
Statistics show that boy was probably telling a lot of truth in his drunken belligerence. And I'm disgusted to know that the people I work with have become so jaded that they can't see the root of truth, or care enough.
* Stats reported by ChildHelp
**Stats reported by 1996 National Survey of Homeless Assistance Providers and Clients (NSHAPC)
***Stats by The National Coalition for the Homeless
Monday, October 5, 2009
Talk Thursday: Castaway
Everyone has been either the casted, or the caster... It's not the act itself that defines us, but the manner with which we conduct ourselves during the moments of the action which can define us for the rest of our lives.
Be it weak, brutal, passive-aggressive, or noncommittal, we all have our own way of dealing with the stress of break up, conflict, or life in general. One of the most important lessons I have learned in this life is that while you can't always control what happens to you, you can always control how you respond and react to a situation.
I have an..... aquaintance that has been struggling for almost a year with a break up. They had been together for over five years. Truth be told, he broke up with her and, from what I can tell, was a total asshat for about a month. Then the dumbass realized that he'd made the "worst mistake of my life". But, by that time, he'd done too much damage. She didn't want him back, in fact she went and found herself a "friend".
The main problem is, according to him, she's been kinda leading him on for the last year. Everyone has known that she's with this new guy, but I guess she tells him that they're just friends and she doesn't know what she wants. blah, blah, blah. Occassionally she'd make plans with the ex just to cancelled and go out with the new guy. Pretty crappy in my book. He knew she was doing this. She would periodically tell him she didn't want to be with him,at which point, he would call me all butthurt.
The curious thing about all this is that her and the new boy were always publicly 'just friends". Today I wake up to a text "They're together, I can't fuckin believe it, blah, blah, blah. I just wish I was dead."
Now if I had said that to him, he straight up would have told me to get a life. Piss or get off the pot. "You wanna die? Do it then or quit bitching about it." He can be a bit cocky and selfrighteous. I had just woken up and I've been dealing with this periodically for about 11 months. I said what any selfrespecting friend would.
"Ohhhh Frank. Really? Did you think they weren't? Really? You didn't want to believe it. It's no reason to want to die. Don't go getting all Emo on me. Have a couple shots. Fuck the first thing that walks by and get over it. Man up already."
In retrospect, maybe not the nicest way I could have dealt with it. And I don't think he's speaking to me anymore. *shrug* There comes a point when you have to draw the line and face reality.
If he would have been a bit kinder when HE was doing the casting, perhaps things would have been a bit gentler when the shoe was on the other foot. No one ever enjoys being the castaway, though I think sometimes people can take a perverse pleasure in being the one setting the other adrift.
Karma baby. Ya get what ya give.
Be it weak, brutal, passive-aggressive, or noncommittal, we all have our own way of dealing with the stress of break up, conflict, or life in general. One of the most important lessons I have learned in this life is that while you can't always control what happens to you, you can always control how you respond and react to a situation.
I have an..... aquaintance that has been struggling for almost a year with a break up. They had been together for over five years. Truth be told, he broke up with her and, from what I can tell, was a total asshat for about a month. Then the dumbass realized that he'd made the "worst mistake of my life". But, by that time, he'd done too much damage. She didn't want him back, in fact she went and found herself a "friend".
The main problem is, according to him, she's been kinda leading him on for the last year. Everyone has known that she's with this new guy, but I guess she tells him that they're just friends and she doesn't know what she wants. blah, blah, blah. Occassionally she'd make plans with the ex just to cancelled and go out with the new guy. Pretty crappy in my book. He knew she was doing this. She would periodically tell him she didn't want to be with him,at which point, he would call me all butthurt.
The curious thing about all this is that her and the new boy were always publicly 'just friends". Today I wake up to a text "They're together, I can't fuckin believe it, blah, blah, blah. I just wish I was dead."
Now if I had said that to him, he straight up would have told me to get a life. Piss or get off the pot. "You wanna die? Do it then or quit bitching about it." He can be a bit cocky and selfrighteous. I had just woken up and I've been dealing with this periodically for about 11 months. I said what any selfrespecting friend would.
"Ohhhh Frank. Really? Did you think they weren't? Really? You didn't want to believe it. It's no reason to want to die. Don't go getting all Emo on me. Have a couple shots. Fuck the first thing that walks by and get over it. Man up already."
In retrospect, maybe not the nicest way I could have dealt with it. And I don't think he's speaking to me anymore. *shrug* There comes a point when you have to draw the line and face reality.
If he would have been a bit kinder when HE was doing the casting, perhaps things would have been a bit gentler when the shoe was on the other foot. No one ever enjoys being the castaway, though I think sometimes people can take a perverse pleasure in being the one setting the other adrift.
Karma baby. Ya get what ya give.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Boys! Boys! Never Ever Men!
OK.... I have this friend. She has always been a sex fiend and if you've ever been her friend for more than 10 seconds you know this about her. She loves video games and Mythbusters and entomology. Point is, she's not much of a girly-girl, except in that her VaJJ is her favorite toy.
Enter husband. Who is a girly-girl.. Joking. But he is the "why don't you buy me flowers? I might like them too, you know", kind of guy. Said husband ISN'T a sex fiend. "WHAT?" you say. I KNOW! But, alas... this is the way it is for us "healthy sexually driven" women. So she legally binds herself to a man who thinks 20 times a year is a good show of husbandly attention. WTF!!! 20 times a month maybe. MAYBE! AND when she does get it... it ain't that great.......
Ever read "Dark Rivers Of The Heart" by Dean Koontz? The psychopath who doesn't believe in swapping body fluids? Well at least their sex is hot, what with the rubber sheets and amber oil and toys and mood lights.... Theirs is not so much.. He doesn't kiss with an open mouth. Doesn't like to give or receive oral. Always has a "headache". Not into bondage. Won't spank. Certainly won't choke. Won't spontaneously rip her clothes off and fuck the shit out of her. Now he claims that he's afraid to be aggressive sexually because it MIGHT lead to him hitting her when they fight.... WTF!
First of all, in my book, you ever wanna hit me- you best do it in bed or you'll die. Swiftly and violently. But this isn't about me... You hit her. You'll wish you were dead because she WILL make your life living hell and you WILL spend eternity in payback.
So the result of this is that he doesn't want to do it enough, and when he does... she doesn't find it satisfying, or even interesting. Now, they do both read and listen to Dan Savage. Dan would say this, 1) Deal with it, 2) Divorce him, or 3) Get some on the side.
Solutions 1 & 2.... brings to mind something my wise ol' mom would and has said... "Sex can't make a marriage, but it can sure as hell break a marriage." Being sexually unsatisfied is a difficult thing to overcome. And I don't know if it's truly possible. And... He was friends with her for MORE than 10 seconds... He knew she was a sexual beast. His lack of sexual interest has at times affected her self esteem and has caused her some depression issues. Also she had attempted to stunt her sexual appetite with birth control until she realized that it is fucked up.
I should also state that he is on medication that maybe inhibiting his ability to ejaculate. That is a serious issue. My advice on that is "GO SEE YOUR FUCKING DOCTOR!!" Any medication that has a lasting affect of sex drive is NOT worth it. Change meds, Exhaust all options. Sexual health is paramount! To life, sanity, and marriage!
Option 3). ... Personally, I'm not a fan of extramarital activities. Dan would say if husband knew he could not accommodate wifes sex drive and married her anyways, he needs to allow his wife to find that fulfillment. I personally am not that mature.. I am a jealous bitch. That said, I can't argue in favor of that option.. I must say that girly-husband has given permission for this option, or at least has said he would understand if she went that route. I say that is a big fat cop out. Man up. Screw your wife already.
PSAM'S SOLUTION... Get the man a hooker. (They live in Australia and it's legal there.) Let him get out his issues with a sex professional. Let him ravage her, then pay her to piss him off and let him see that he won't beat the crap out of her. (And well, if he does... shit, money WELL spent!!! Lesson learned.) My friend is into the idea, especially if she can watch. But we doubt that he would be.
In the end, what's a girl to do? I remember as a teen hearing that men always want sex, it's all they ever think about.... Well bullshit. I know 2 girls here who have yet to find men to keep up with them sexually...
Men....... Can't live with 'em and sex just doesn't burn as many calories without them.
Enter husband. Who is a girly-girl.. Joking. But he is the "why don't you buy me flowers? I might like them too, you know", kind of guy. Said husband ISN'T a sex fiend. "WHAT?" you say. I KNOW! But, alas... this is the way it is for us "healthy sexually driven" women. So she legally binds herself to a man who thinks 20 times a year is a good show of husbandly attention. WTF!!! 20 times a month maybe. MAYBE! AND when she does get it... it ain't that great.......
Ever read "Dark Rivers Of The Heart" by Dean Koontz? The psychopath who doesn't believe in swapping body fluids? Well at least their sex is hot, what with the rubber sheets and amber oil and toys and mood lights.... Theirs is not so much.. He doesn't kiss with an open mouth. Doesn't like to give or receive oral. Always has a "headache". Not into bondage. Won't spank. Certainly won't choke. Won't spontaneously rip her clothes off and fuck the shit out of her. Now he claims that he's afraid to be aggressive sexually because it MIGHT lead to him hitting her when they fight.... WTF!
First of all, in my book, you ever wanna hit me- you best do it in bed or you'll die. Swiftly and violently. But this isn't about me... You hit her. You'll wish you were dead because she WILL make your life living hell and you WILL spend eternity in payback.
So the result of this is that he doesn't want to do it enough, and when he does... she doesn't find it satisfying, or even interesting. Now, they do both read and listen to Dan Savage. Dan would say this, 1) Deal with it, 2) Divorce him, or 3) Get some on the side.
Solutions 1 & 2.... brings to mind something my wise ol' mom would and has said... "Sex can't make a marriage, but it can sure as hell break a marriage." Being sexually unsatisfied is a difficult thing to overcome. And I don't know if it's truly possible. And... He was friends with her for MORE than 10 seconds... He knew she was a sexual beast. His lack of sexual interest has at times affected her self esteem and has caused her some depression issues. Also she had attempted to stunt her sexual appetite with birth control until she realized that it is fucked up.
I should also state that he is on medication that maybe inhibiting his ability to ejaculate. That is a serious issue. My advice on that is "GO SEE YOUR FUCKING DOCTOR!!" Any medication that has a lasting affect of sex drive is NOT worth it. Change meds, Exhaust all options. Sexual health is paramount! To life, sanity, and marriage!
Option 3). ... Personally, I'm not a fan of extramarital activities. Dan would say if husband knew he could not accommodate wifes sex drive and married her anyways, he needs to allow his wife to find that fulfillment. I personally am not that mature.. I am a jealous bitch. That said, I can't argue in favor of that option.. I must say that girly-husband has given permission for this option, or at least has said he would understand if she went that route. I say that is a big fat cop out. Man up. Screw your wife already.
PSAM'S SOLUTION... Get the man a hooker. (They live in Australia and it's legal there.) Let him get out his issues with a sex professional. Let him ravage her, then pay her to piss him off and let him see that he won't beat the crap out of her. (And well, if he does... shit, money WELL spent!!! Lesson learned.) My friend is into the idea, especially if she can watch. But we doubt that he would be.
In the end, what's a girl to do? I remember as a teen hearing that men always want sex, it's all they ever think about.... Well bullshit. I know 2 girls here who have yet to find men to keep up with them sexually...
Men....... Can't live with 'em and sex just doesn't burn as many calories without them.
So... I think I'm back to "I hate men"
As I said before Tandy thought she'd give me an ego boost and prove that some men like fatties.. She answered a Craigslist saying she was me.. sent some guy my pic. He said I was hot and gave a phone number, said I should text him. I hemmed and hawed.(I have to admit, he is hot.) Then I texted. We've texted back and forth a little. Nothing too interesting. Nothing too deep.
We haven't texted in a few days so Tandy says, Text him. I did. No reply.
I finally get a reply as I'm walking into work tonight. I can't chat, gotta work. Can't have my cell in the ER. But he can email. He doesn't. Keeps texting. Finally he gets to, "want to get together sometime soon?"
I say, "Sure, what do you have in mind?"
He's like, "Well, I've been feeling kinda frisky.."
And to be honest.. I'm a bit insulted. Like really? He doesn't really know anything about me, except that I work a lot, and prob talk about my kid more than I should. Am I supposed to be so blindly flattered that I fling my clothes from my body as I fall all over myself to please him? WTF?
Dear Mr Asshat!
Should it flatter me that really you don't give a shit where you stick your penis as long as it's dark, warm, and wet... and sometimes the wet probably doesn't even matter, I'm sure. Am I supposed to have such low self esteeme that I just assume you must want the warm spot because you truly like ME so very much? Or if I sleep with you, maybe you'll like it soooooo much you'll want to get to know me better?
Fuck off!!!
Am I too prideful? Fuck yeah. Am I that desperate? Hell no. If I wanted to have meaningless sex I could, and I would, and I have... But don't pretend it could be something more than it is, because I'm not a hopeless fucktard.
If you want cheap, meaningless sex, call it what it is. You'll probably get more bites anyway. Don't act like a sweet upstanding guy. Act like the dog you are... for some stupid reason, girls dig assholes.
We haven't texted in a few days so Tandy says, Text him. I did. No reply.
I finally get a reply as I'm walking into work tonight. I can't chat, gotta work. Can't have my cell in the ER. But he can email. He doesn't. Keeps texting. Finally he gets to, "want to get together sometime soon?"
I say, "Sure, what do you have in mind?"
He's like, "Well, I've been feeling kinda frisky.."
And to be honest.. I'm a bit insulted. Like really? He doesn't really know anything about me, except that I work a lot, and prob talk about my kid more than I should. Am I supposed to be so blindly flattered that I fling my clothes from my body as I fall all over myself to please him? WTF?
Dear Mr Asshat!
Should it flatter me that really you don't give a shit where you stick your penis as long as it's dark, warm, and wet... and sometimes the wet probably doesn't even matter, I'm sure. Am I supposed to have such low self esteeme that I just assume you must want the warm spot because you truly like ME so very much? Or if I sleep with you, maybe you'll like it soooooo much you'll want to get to know me better?
Fuck off!!!
Am I too prideful? Fuck yeah. Am I that desperate? Hell no. If I wanted to have meaningless sex I could, and I would, and I have... But don't pretend it could be something more than it is, because I'm not a hopeless fucktard.
If you want cheap, meaningless sex, call it what it is. You'll probably get more bites anyway. Don't act like a sweet upstanding guy. Act like the dog you are... for some stupid reason, girls dig assholes.
Friday, October 2, 2009
An Interesting Facebook Test.....
So I decided to try out an idea on Facebook... I threw out the Beginning few lines of a story, just to see what would happen. This is my result.
Long. long ago and far, far away where the hills are green and rolling, and the mighty trees reach high to the golden sun... There lived a.... ?
she would find the secret of the Forbidden Forest. Every day she would sneak off to the deep dark wood and search for something that seemed to not belong... or something magical.
....she came upon a creek that she had never seen before. No, she was sure that this creek had not been in this spot the last time she had ventured this route. In a shallow place stones were placed just right for her to cross without getting wet. As she hopped across the creek her skin tingled. She set foot on the other side and......."It would be so much easier if I knew what it was I look for", she said to herself.
One day.....
One day.....
...even as her boot sunk into the saturated moss along the bank, she heard them behind her. The hissing and groaning of something rising from the deeper pools. She stood frozen in place, unwilling to turn around but too afraid to run ahead.
Over the sound of her own pounding heartbeat, the forest around her came alive with sounds. The cackling laughter of dark things and the crackling of decayed sinew and bone behind her. The sinister eyes of her now many pursuers gazed down upon her from the treetops and unseen by her, a gnarled and twisted hand reached for her slender ankle from a hollow, rotted log, only just missing her.
Nonamee shivered as though a ghost had just passed through her. As the seconds waned to minutes and all she could do was to think of the safety of her bedroom to hide from the rustling noises and sinister voices whispering in hushed demonic canter she began losing hope until she heard a lyrical voice whisper to her, "To the center of the forest, come to me..." Entranced, following the melodious voice, she delved deeper into the forest, unaware of...
Branches slapped and tore at Nonamee as she fled the new malevolence haunting her journey. Nonamee had slipped into the Forbidden Forest many times and never been so frightened. Again the melodic voice called her deeper into the heart of the wood. Hysteria squeezed her chest. Not quite trusting what was ahead, she ran from the thing or things that chased from behind. Darting between trees, Nonamee turned to look over her shoulder and fell, landing ................
.....on plush, green moss. As if falling through a portal of protection. Nonamee slowly sat up. The snarling had stopped. The darkness had receded. There was a beautiful warmth on this glowing patch of moss. Looking around, she took in her soundings wondering if she was even in the same woods. Sunlight filtered through the trees. That was when she noticed the little spots of light that seemed to flutter right in her face. Focusing on them, Nonamee realized they weren't light at all.......
and suddenly the area became very bright, almost dazzling white. Out of the light came three beautiful fairies. And of the three there was the most remarkable fairy. She was dressed in a white lacy gown and was wearing a silver crown on her head. In wonderment she thought to herself that this must be the magical adventure she was looking for as all her fear and strife washed away from her weary bones. The white fairy landed gently onto the mossy floor and spoke in a tinkling voice.
That is all we have so far.... Kinda fun.. I will add to it if the story grows at all.. Maybe I'll try to start another sometime...
Contributions made by:
Shann Ormsbee
Sandra Fowler
Terry Wilson
Nichole Akins
and ME
That is all we have so far.... Kinda fun.. I will add to it if the story grows at all.. Maybe I'll try to start another sometime...
Contributions made by:
Shann Ormsbee
Sandra Fowler
Terry Wilson
Nichole Akins
and ME
Thursday, October 1, 2009
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