I am too political for my own good. I believe in Mermaids and Unicorns. I am the ringleader of Lunacy. I am sane inside insanity. I am who I am and I am what I am. And, truly, that is all I can ever be.
Let's look at some fashion from Albania, shall we? That sounds like fun!
This particular piece was designed by an Albanian designer called Mimi in 2008 for the Albanian fashion week.
This piece is also from 2008. It is by a designer named Rezarta Skifteri.
This one is by Geraldina Sposa from last year.
He popped up on my picture search and I realized he had some gorgeous eyes and was pretty damn smexy... therefore, he is here specifically because he is hot. That is all.
This particular piece was designed specifically for pregnant women (and the men that can't get enough of pregnant bellies) by Merita Tocila two years ago.
And I know absolutely nothing about this particular dress other than it was published in an article on Daily Times Pakistan!
Welcome to your fucked up childhood revisited and even more twisted!
Welcome to March of the Stripper Clowns. For those of you who are afraid of clowns, you may want to avert your eyes and cower in fear. Partially because these are half-naked people with, often, scary clown make-up. Just for you!
Why, you may ask? Why would I inflict you all with these fiendish monstrosities? Because my brother and Phil were talking about them at random and I am a blog whore. Yep, that's right. I love blogging and when I need material someone always gives it to me. *insert sex joke here*
Of course, the major questions are:
* How much do they charge per hour? Are the balloon animals free?
* How many come in a carload? Are we talking mini-cooper or VW bug?
* Does the wig come off as well during the strip tease?
* Do they dye their pubes to match their crazy wigs/hair?
* Are these regular circus clowns? (More will fit in the car if they are)
Well, enough questions, let's get to the pictures! Are you ready?
Ladies and Gentlemen, I am the ringleader of Lunacy. Want to join my circus?
How about this? Is this better?
No?
Or this, maybe?
Well now that your childhood (and nightmares) have been destroyed (or fueled, depending on who you are), that is all for now.
A man who had smoked bath salts and fallen asleep in a stranger’s van woke to police handcuffing him early Sunday morning on *.
Timothy H, 42, of * first struggled with officers when they found him about 1 a.m., police Sgt. Scott M. said.
He tried to flee the van but was arrested on charges of possession of a controlled substance, resisting law enforcement, criminal trespass of a vehicle and public intoxication.
A woman had originally called to report two people inside her van, but when police arrived, they found only Timothy H.
When questioned, Timothy H. told police he had smoked bath salts earlier in the day and must have passed out in the vehicle, according to a report.
Officers found a clear container in Timothy H’s pocket that contained some leftover bath salts.
He remained in the County Jail Sunday night on $4,000 surety, $500 cash bond.
A * has replaced the place of origin and I have changed the names to protect the guilty.
Also, this newspaper article got it wrong, both people were arrested not just Timothy H. Just sayin'.
Another point, this journalist needs to work on her writing skills. There are numerous grammatical and punctuation errors. Honestly, someone who, presumably, went to school for this shit should at least be able to get both the factsand the basic English correct. Seriously.
As part of Albania Week (also known as Sarai's Country of the Week) I am posting a song from Albania. For your viewing pleasure, here is a song from Albania performed for the Eurovision Song Contest in 2009 by Juliana Pasha. In Albanian it is called "Nuk mundem pa ty", in English it is "It's All About You."
I really like this video, its got a very strange and dark atmosphere. But it is definitely interesting, at least to me.
Pretty much everything I'm going to say about this movie is a spoiler, therefore, if you have any interest in watching this Thai horror film you might refrain from reading about it. Unless you really want to see it after reading about it.
This movie was hilarious. Fucked up, but hilarious.
We begin with a not quite thoroughly explained premise. That being that the nurses and doctor are making their living from selling dead bodies on the black market. We only get a hint in that the main character is murdered shortly after threatening to tell the police how they "make their living" from dead bodies.
Each nurse has a vice of some sort. And each vice is used against them in the end.
First we have the murdered girl herself, Tahwaan, who is actually *SPOILER* a homosexual man who fell in love with Doctor Tar (the only other man in this whole film) and had a sex change to be with him. *END SPOILER*
Then we have the murdered girl's sister, Nook, who is *SPOILER* pregnant with the doctor's baby after a sexual rendezvous in a place full of corpses that her brother/sister watched because she was going to surprise the doctor.*END SPOILER*
Next we have Am and Orn who are twins in love with each other. They even have a lamp that has Narcissus written on it. Narcissus is a character from Greek Mythology who fell in love with his own reflection and wasted away because he couldn't bear to leave it. The incestuous feelings the sisters have for each other is very apparent in their scene on a bed.
Next is Yim who is determined to have a perfect Vitruvian based body. She has a projector that she turns on and then uses a marker to mark what needs to be fixed on her body. She is constantly working out trying to be perfect.
Then there is Jo who is bulimic and constantly eating because of it. There is one scene where she is brushing her teeth and there is a half eaten donut on her counter. She can't resist it, so she eats it with all the toothpaste foaming in her mouth. Of course it doesn't matter, she'll throw it up and then weigh it later. Bulimia is terrifying enough without weighing your own vomit to see how much you threw up compared to how much you ate.
Lastly there is Aeh. Ah, Aeh. She is obsessed with beautiful material goods. So much so that one of her punishments is having her beautiful handbag sewn to her head and neck.
Oh and how could I forget good Doctor Tar? The master of mayhem in this movie all because he didn't keep his promise to Tahwaan and slept with every single nurse. Feeding their various addictions and obsessions. Well, and in the case of Jo, literally feeding her.
Best Scene
Nook is standing on a long square spiral staircase and suddenly all these faceless people with gas masks made of hair flood the stair case on either side so that she can't escape. And what does she do? What does our brave heroine do to escape this clearly inescapable situation?
She whips out a used pregnancy test and starts kicking ass.
That's right ladies and gentleman, she whips out that pregnancy test and begins fighting off this horde with it like its a fucking knife. Seriously, I've never seen such a hilarious scene in a movie, my entire life! Who uses a fucking pregnancy test (a USED pregnancy test no less) to defend against a zombie like horde?
Second Best Scene
Am and Orn's arms are being controlled by Tahwaan so that they are sawing off all of Orn's limbs in a lovely tub filling with blood. The look on Orn's face is as if she had just won a trip to DisneyLand. And right after I made that joke we all noticed that Am was wearing sparkly Mickey Mouse earrings.
And that look doesn't leave Orn's face until she is completely dismembered and drowning in a pool of her own blood.
Third Best Scene
Aeh getting beheaded by her purse. I'm not saying anymore than that.
Worst Scene
Where Jo makes her slop that she uses to make herself vomit (because she is bulimic) and she then throws up in a bag and WEIGHS IT! Not to mention she is starving her cat as well.
Second Worst Scene
Jo's demise. Seriously, aborted babies in formaldehyde flying into the gaping and bloody maw of a jawless woman and kittens eating tongues is the stuff of nightmares. Not mine, of course, but somebody's somewhere.
Today I have decided to present some interesting facts about Albania for, what I have now dubbed, Albania Week!
Some fun facts about Albania include:
* Due to some "difficult historical conditions" Albania was a little late in the literature game. The first book published in Albania was written by a priest called Gjon Buzuku in 1555. It was titled "Meshari" and was, apparently, written in Latin.
* Albania is the home of the historic city (and archaeological center) of Durres, which dates back to the 7th century BC. Along with Mbjeshovë Castle, which was built somewhere between the 4 and 5th century AD.
* Kristaq Antoniu was an Albanian Operetta singer, as well as actor. He was born in Korca, though for some unexplained reason was exiled to Romania. He was a tenor as well as a baritone.
I am what some people would call an indecisive music lover. Sometimes I will absolutely adore everything an artist has ever done (Gackt), I'll absolutely hate everything an artist has ever done (Taylor Swift) or I'll like some of it and hate some of it. Which is where Lady Gaga comes in.
I am all for being original and unique. I'm all for trying to be yourself. I'm all for pushing the proverbial envelope and making yourself be heard. I'm okay with that, which is why I have to have some respect for Lady Gaga. I get that she is trying to be original (failing miserably, by the way) and that she is trying to get everyone to think she is fabulous. Which, admittedly, seems to be working quite well. I like Gaga, but I'm beginning to think that she has lost her damn mind.
Her latest video, "Yoü and I", made absolutely no sense to me.
For one thing, why does she have a trema (also known as diacritic and umlaut) over the letter U in You? It doesn't make any sense to have it there, because it doesn't change the word at all. You isn't transformed into something spectacular (like a semi-naked superhero come to save you from a sexless sex-life) it is just You with two dots over the freaking U (like a hobo with a bow on his head. He is still a hobo, just with an extra accessory)!
To be fair, I kind of liked the song. I thought it was kind of interesting. However, it didn't fit the video at all. In the video, Gaga is wearing her usual revealing and elaborate outfits. Nothing unusual there. Until you start to notice all the S&M stuff going on while she is in those outfits. She is being sexually and electrically tortured by some guy. Who she seems to be marrying in some of the first frames of the video.
I am all for being open about what you like sexually, but there is a freakin' limit! I really don't want to see her being tortured and fucked. If I want to see someone having kinky sex I have access to the internet and, as we all know from listening to Avenue Q, the internet is for porn.
The scene in the piano field with her as a guy on top of the piano and as the woman playing the piano makes me feel like I'm watching something slightly incestuous. Or like she is two people performing some strange form of masturbation due to being the same person while still technically separated. It just made me feel very strange. However, Gaga does make a decent looking man. Not going to lie.
There were several images in this video that confused me. For example: the partially cyborg Gaga, the ice cream truck man with the doll, the mermaid for pete's sake! Why is Gaga a mermaid? Why is her boyfriend/former lover/husband raping/experimenting on her? What is with all this medical stuff and creepy electrocuted references? If it had been a horror film with some substance I would totally have enjoyed the hell out of it, but it was a music video that had no frame of reference for me.
I don't mind the song. In fact, Fawn doesn't even mind the song (which is weird because she doesn't like Gaga at all). Except I don't really like the video.
P.S. Mermaid sex does not work like that at all. Which makes me feel like I just watch some bestiality porn.
So, for your viewing pleasure (or displeasure depending), "Yoü and I" by Lady Gaga.
I found this picture at random and thought it was hilarious! I love that shoe shaped go-cart and really want one now. I think even Batman would be jealous, because what crime fighting hero doesn't want to be seen in some classy red pumps? (There's a pun in that last sentence! *giggle*)
This is the shit, just sayin'!
Also, speaking of shoes, I love these heels.
In fact, I own a pair of them myself and am now debating on whether I want to try to walk in them for my wedding. They would go with my colors perfectly, however I have to walk up some stairs so I may end up killing myself attempting this.
And now, your hideous shoe of the day! (Which is something completely random and that I suddenly decided to do because I am crazy!)
I have no idea what these are called or who designed them. All I typed in was "hideous shoes" and this is one of the things that came up first. Absolutely horrifying, not only for the animal cruelty aspect, but also for the random gun for a heel and the now golden colored hooves (plural for hoof, for those who are curious). Not to mention that they look like they would be a pain to wear.
Just for shiggles (also known as shits and giggles), I've decided to blog about a special country, carefully chosen, for this week.
This week's country is Albania. That's right kids, Albania! This week's country was specially chosen by Phil. Thank you, Phil.
Albania, as it's official website claims, is in the heart of the Mediterranean. It is considered a part of the European continent and is actually rich with history and beauty. More so than you would think. Poor Albania is one of those forgotten countries, a lot of the time.
And to start off Albania Week, I have decided to present some delicious recipes. Apparently, Albania has a thing for meat dishes, because the very first page of recipes I looked at were all meat related. I did manage to find a recipe for a Spinach Pie and a Walnut Cake. For my culturally involved audience, I present this interesting recipe for Spinach Pie first.
Spinach Pie (Byrek me Spinaq)
1 cup oil, preferably olive oil
1 1/2 packets (or about 30) pastry leaves (Filo dough)
1 1/2 pounds spinach, chopped
1 cup diced feta cheese
1/2 cup chopped green onions
2 eggs
salt, half teaspoon
( NOTE: A medium-sized, round baking pan is recommended because it's more authentic but any medium-sized baking pan will do).
Brush the baking pan with some of the oil, and start laying the pastry leaves inside. First, lay two leaves, sprinkle or brush with oil, then lay two other leaves, and repeat the procedure until half of the leaves are laid. Make sure that they cover the pan by hanging them about one inch over the edges of the pan.
Sprinkle spinach with salt, then mix well by hand. Add the feta cheese, oil, onions, eggs and salt, and spread this mixture over the already laid pastry leaves. Finish by covering the spinach with the rest of the pastry leaves repeating the first-half procedure and then roll the hanging edges of the bottom leaves over the pie (think of a pizza crust), sprinkle top with oil and bake moderately at 3501_F for about 45 minutes, or until golden brown. Serve hot, accompanied with buttermilk, or beaten yogurt, thinned down in cold water or with chilled stewed prunes. Sometimes a green salad adds to the meal!
Serves 4-6.
Walnut Cake Ingredients Cake
1/2 cup butter, at room temperature
3/4 cup Sugar
2 eggs, lightly beaten
1/3 cup plain yogurt
1/3 cup buttermilk (or additional 1/3 cup yogurt)
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1 tablespoon freshly grated lemon rind
1 cup walnuts, toasted and finely chopped Glaze
3/4 cup water
1 cup Sugar
1 cinnamon stick (or 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon)
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
1/4 teaspoon ground allspice
1 dash ground cloves
Directions
Preheat oven to 350 °F.
cream together the butter and Sugar until light and fluffy, and then mix in the eggs.
Blend the yogurt with the buttermilk.
Sift together the cake dry ingredients and add them alternating with the yogurt mixture into the egg mixture.
Stir in the lemon rind and walnuts.
Pour the batter into a buttered 9X13 baking pan and bake for 30–40 minutes until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. The cake will still be moist.
Make the glaze by simmering together all the ingredients, covered, for about 15 minutes.
Remove the cinnamon stick.
When the cake is done, remove it from the oven, turn off the oven, pour the glaze over the hot cake and return it to the oven for about 10 minutes.
Cut the cake into squares and serve it warm or cool.
Throughout this week expect to see blogs about Albanian fashion, fun facts, music and other interesting (and slightly random) things!
Dear Drunks that randomly broke into my van at 12-something AM,
HOW DID YOU EVEN GET IN?! MY DOORS WERE LOCKED!!!
I'm sorry I had to call the police, but your husband/boyfriend/whatever was passed out in-between my seats and there was no way we could get him out. Also, you were drunk and breaking into my van!
Sincerely,
Sarai
P.S. PUT SOME CLOTHES ON!! For the love of God!
P.P.S. You better be happy that the nice officer fixed my door or I would've been SO PISSED!
So, last night I was texting my friend Megan M. to see whether or not she was still wanting to carpool to work this morning. The following awkward, and hysterically funny, texts followed.
Me: Are you wanting to carpool to work tomorrow?
7:27PM Fri, 26 Aug.
Megan M: Sure if you want. I still need to check my schedule, haha.
7:35PM
Me: Nice. We don't have to if you don't want to. I work 10:15.
7:52PM
Megan M: I don't mind. I can oil you up at 10ish..I think I go in at the same time.
7:52PM
Megan M: OMG pick not oil!
7:52PM
Megan M: Fucking autocorrect.
7:52PM
Megan M: I'm dying right now. So are my DnD buddies.
7:54PM
Megan M: Did I scare you off?!
7:57PM
Me: Lol. No, I've been laughing hysterically.
7:59PM
I am sure that some of you have figured out, by now, that I love Florence + the Machine. And that is entirely true! Also, I blame my sister for that.
Anyway this is Flo's latest song. Definitely another gorgeous and haunting song from her and I am totally in love with it. I think it is mostly because Florence has one of the most beautiful and honest voices I think I've ever heard. She has a truly amazing range, a talent for lyrical descriptions and the music always has this touch of the haunted in it. I love that, for, I too, am haunted.
"Lay me down, let the only sound be the overflow, pockets full of stones."
"Oh mother, don't forget me, when I let the water take me."
I know I have blogged about the plight of those who are homosexual, bisexual or transgendered. I have protested the horrific behavior and advocated for equal marriage rights. I have posted songs and articles. But I don't think anything has ever hit me as hard as what I am about to post now. Thank you Pomegranate for sending this to me. Everyone should read this. It is hard to read, it is hard to believe that this happens, but OPEN YOUR EYES!
This is going on everywhere, all the time, all over the world. Gay bashing, bullying, intolerance and prejudice, it just needs to END. What kind of society are we?! What kind of people call themselves civilized and free, but we deny the basic rights of living and happiness to the people a few moments before we called friends, brothers, sisters, aunts, mothers, fathers, uncles, cousins, daughters and sons?
This is a cry for it to end! Raise your voice! Speak up, because if you don't, no one else will. And if we never speak up, nothing will ever change!
It Gets Better, RAISE YOUR VOICE AND BE HEARD!
Since some of the writing is small-ish, here is what this powerful picture says (I also corrected some of the spelling errors):
I was the victim of a very harsh gay bashing.
it will have been a year this saturday...
I am not gay.
My best friend is and therefore by association this obviously mean I am gay as well
No one knows,
I can't bring myself to tell anyone or even report it.
It'd be easy to report I know who the bashers were, I still have a shirt that has some of their blood on it (I wasn't going down without a fight), those bastards even filmed it, evidence is just everywhere.
I don't want anyone to see the scars they left,
I don't want to have to take off my shirt in a courtroom so the jury can see the word "faggot" permenantly burned onto my chest
I'm pissed that I'm the one this happened to!
I hate my best fucking friend.
I hate him for my scars, I hate him for my jacked up body,
I hate him because everyone believes my b.s. biking accident story for why I walk with this stupid limp,
I hate him because I'll never be able to hang-out with all our friends again at the pool again,
I hate him because no girl will ever love a guy whose chest says faggot
I hate him because he'll never know what I took for him...
I hate myself for feeling this way
But even with all these bitter hypocritical feelings...
I'd take the bashing all over again so he wouldn't have to.
Bear: So, I think you should slather some honey all over you tonight.
Me: Why should I do that?
Bear: Because it will give your skin some extra moisture and... stuff?
Me: Or is it because you think I'll taste better with honey?
Bear: What?! What are you accusing me of?!
Me: I don't know, being an omnivore who might decide to feed its omnivorous nature by consuming my all too tender flesh slathered in "moisturizing" honey?
Bear: That's just insulting! Why would I suggest you slather yourself in delicious and delectable honey only so that I could then devour your mouthwatering-ly (is that a word?) sensationally moisturized flesh? I may be an omnivore, but I have standards.
Me: Are you insulting my flesh? Are you saying that I am not tasty enough for you? Is that what this is about?!
Bear: No! You are taking this all the wrong way! I'm just suggesting that you moisturize! It is good for your skin and good for your sense of well-being. Jesus, you'd think I was insulting your deliciousness or something!
Me: I think as soon as I have my back turned you are going to maul me and then slather me in honey and eat me. I can practically see you salivating from here! Also, is it cannibalism if you eat me, since you are a sentient bear? Doesn't that make you kind of close to human?
Bear: ...
Me: Nothing to say?
Bear: ...
Me: Hello? Are you still there?
Bear: ...
Me: Fine, if you're going to be a cub about things...
Bear: (suddenly behind me: screams) OM NOM NOM!!!
Me: (drops phone in a state of panic and flees)
Bear: (starts laughing hysterically and departs with my cell phone to wreck his terrible sense of humor on others)
---
This blog was inspired by Kyle M. I hope you are happy Kyle. I blogged about bears.
This is also partially inspired by the following blog post by Fawn (http://namonakimichi.blogspot.com/2011/08/oh-my-fuck-fawn.html) about a girl whose mother listened to her get eaten by a bear.
Last December I went with Fawn and Trent to a Salvador Dali exhibit. All three of us are huge Dali fans (Surrealism being something I hold near and dear to my heart) so we were incredibly excited.
What I didn't know about Dali was that he also created surrealist jewelry. Including my favorite piece:
The fully articulated Starfish Brooch.
Not only is this a fully articulated Starfish (as in it was designed to be able to wrap around your hand/wrist), but it is made with a stunningly huge pearl, rubies, emeralds and diamonds for a one of a kind gorgeous piece. I've never seen such a beautiful starfish.
This is my favorite piece for a multitude of reasons, but mostly because even though it is completely made from jewels it manages to not be gaudy and ridiculous looking. Plus it is able to be moved and wrapped however you may want. A famous actress once wore this piece, provocatively, on her breast.
This is a drawing of the design and the articulation of the brooch as done by Dali.
In my search of Dali Jewelry, I discovered this piece by one Elsa Schiaperelli.
This lobster brooch is definitely Dali-esque in my mind. Not only in its relation to the sea (as the Starfish), but in its simplistically complex and beautifully realized design. It is the concept of creating beauty out of something that is generally disregarded by the public as common place and ugly that most attracts me. Personally. And, as it turns out, Ms. Schiaperelli was a fan of Dali's surrealism, which may or may not have inspired her to create this particular piece.
Whilst looking at some other pieces by Ms. Schiaperelli, I discovered these Leopard Skin Booties. If they weren't real leopard skin (which I don't believe they are) I would actually considering wear this particular pair. If only because I think of them as simplistically designed. I like simple.
And, because the internet is a strange place and I started thinking about other types of jewelry and beautiful things, here is a delicate piece by Fabrege, creator of Fabrege eggs.
He, too, apparently found under sea life worthy of jewelry pieces as you can see from this Sea Horse.
While we are talking about Fabrege, what is it about Fabrege's eggs that makes them so beautiful? What is it about Eggs themselves that makes them beautiful? I don't really understand it myself, but every since I was young I've loved things that were egg shaped. I have a little glass jewelry egg decorated with painted roses that holds my change. I have a little egg shaped perfume bottle that my Aunt Peggy gave me when I was 10 or so. Well, for that matter I have a pineapple shaped perfume bottle she gave me too, but that has nothing to do with eggs.
Maybe, for me, it just goes back to the simplicity of it. Or maybe it goes back to how we all come from some type of egg and the beginning of life? For whatever reason, eggs are beautiful.
This particular egg is Jade. One of my favorite precious stones. Except that I prefer White Jade.
I don't know why I like this one. Except that I think it is pretty.
I am done rambling for the moment. I'm starting to get tired and I think it is nap time for this blogger. I hope you enjoyed my randomness on jewelry, sea creatures and eggs. I'm off to try to get "Jack Sparrow" by the Lonely Island feat. Michael Bolton out of my head.
I don't know why, but I really REALLY like this song by Jessie J. and BoB. It is a quirky little song with a pretty powerful message, I think. When did money become the be all end all? Why did it become the be all end all? Why must everything have a price? Is there anyone who doesn't have a price?
I love the line "Money can't buy us happiness. Can't we all slow down and enjoy right now?"
Life is more than material goods or money or how pretty you are. It isn't about the cost of your Gucci shoes or your GoodWill scarf. It isn't about how many diamonds are weighing your hands down or how many cats live in your house. It is about enjoying the journey and the experiences that life provides. It is about discovering this beautiful world and all the history and riches of it. It is about dancing in the rain.
Today at work I was cooking/handing out samples of bacon. Yes, my Donnie's beloved food, Bacon. These particular samples were hickory smoked bacon. I also served some maple bacon. Hickory seemed to be the preference as I only had three packages left at the end of the day.
Anywho, there was this gentleman and his wife who came up and wanted to try a sample. The gentleman said,
"Bacon is Nature's Candy."
I said "No, cherries are Nature's Candy and there is a carton over there that says so." He and his wife looked amused. Then he said,
"No, Bacon is Nature's Candy that grows on the side of a pig."
This made me giggle and I told him that it was going to be posted on the internet.
There you are, good sir, you have been quoted on the internet.
I dreamt about my biological father last night. It was odd, because I haven't dreamt about him in a while. I felt so many different things in that dream. Feelings I've been suppressing in the waking world.
We had moved into our new apartment, in my dream. And somehow I happened to see my father in a window across the way from my apartment. It was kind of "Rear Window"-esque. I felt like I was staring at him through binoculars. Realizing it was him I practically flew out of my apartment to his. Only to suddenly be in a hotel room.
There he was. As I remember him, a seven year old's image of her father. He is so romanticized in my mind. To me he will always be the handsome man who picked me up off the ground when I fell from the monkey bars and got sand in my eyes. The guy with glasses, and a great mustache, who was constantly filming me and my brother, photographing my mother, even though they were no longer together. The man I adored and thought was amazing, a god with flaws. I wish I could've saved him. I wish we had been enough.
There he was. My father. In that moment I felt a surge of love for him. With a small aftertaste of hate and realization. He hugged me. I told him I was getting married. He cried. I cried. I told him how much I had missed him. How much I wish I had never sent that letter. Never said the things I said. He forgave me. I forgave him. He was going to do the one thing I've always wanted. He was going to give me away at the ceremony for my wedding. He was going to dance with me, that father daughter dance that I'll never actually have.
I think part of my subconscious realized this was a dream, because I felt a surge of pain. A trembling in my chin, that trembling that always preludes a gut-wrenching cry fest.
He told me that he had been released. Released from the drugs, prison, etc. He was a free man and he was going to be there for me. He offered to help pay for the wedding. He offered to help in any way he could.
Then he disappeared. In a split-second I was talking to my mother. Telling her the good news. Telling her how excited I was. About the crying that we did. About the hug and the forgiveness. Then she tells me that he had lied. That he had escaped from prison, not been released. That he was on the run. Now he would never be able to do what he had said he would. Now he could never fulfill his promises. He would spend his life running. From the addictions, from the law, from his empty promises and his guilt. I truly believe he feels guilty.
And I felt that moment of realization again. The moment when I realized that he would never be able to keep his promises. Just like when I was seven and I made him promise he wouldn't do drugs anymore. And he promised. I think he meant to keep it. I'd like to think he really tried. I'd like to believe that he loved me enough to give it a valiant effort. But what am I compared to methamphetamine? What am I compared to cocaine and heroin?
I've never been so heartbroken upon waking from a dream. I have a damaged relationship with a father I've always worshiped and no real way to fix it. I think, as little girls, all daughters have this kind of romance with their fathers. Not the sexual kind of romance you find in smut novels or internet porn. Not a romance in the traditional sense. We have a love for our fathers that is so deep that it colors our entire outlook on men.
Our father is our first introduction to the world of men. He is our first husband, our first boyfriend. He is our first guy friend, our first impression. We romanticize him, even if we never knew him. Even if we have a bad relationship. Because in many ways we want him to be wonderful. It gives us hope for other men if our father is a good man.
I see the similarities between my father and my ex-boyfriend. I see the parallels between my relationship and my father's relationship with my mother. I see the parallels with my current relationship. I see the parallels with all my male interactions. I have always been so desperate for a man to love me. I have always been so afraid of the men around me. Not because my father abused me, but because I always felt like he abandoned me. Like he never truly loved me. How could any man love me if my own father could not? I wanted that love from my father that I never fully received. It is a terrible loss to me. An awful waste.
I hated him. I hated him for so long. I only called him by his first name. Or didn't speak of him at all. I tore him off of a pedestal and threw him to the ground. A displaced god in my personal garden of hell. The more I hated him, the more I loved him without even trying. I tried to justify his actions to myself, I still do sometimes. I tried to place him back on the pedestal the prodigal god returned to his rightful place of honor. Waged a whole war with myself. All for what?
When I woke up I felt raw. Tender to the touch, like a still healing scrape. Even now I feel hurt. As my wedding draws closer all I keep trying to not think about is that moment when the judge (or the pastor or whomever) says "Who gives this woman to be wed?" The moment when it will be only my mother standing there beside me. When my father will not be there to say "Her mother and I." When the music begins playing at the reception and there is no father for me to dance with.
When I was living in an actual house, before we lost it, we had an International Music Video channel that we watched a lot. One of the songs that I loved listening to/watching was "Starz in their Eyes" by Just Jack from the UK. The reason I liked it (and still do) is because it is very honest. It is a rather accurate portrayal of the rise and fall of musicians, actors, famous people in general. Plus, he is fun to listen to.
For your entertainment, Just Jack (Ha ha "Will and Grace") "Starz in their Eyes"
Sometimes, at random moments, I will passionately miss the 90's. As in the decade, the 1990's. Seriously, I don't know why. The 90's had some horrible fashion trends and some less than good music, but it was my childhood and I embrace that.
Its at these moments that I go back to the music I listened to, or discovered in the 90's. Or I watch some clips from my favorite shows. Or I sit and just dance in my chair to the music I loved (when I could listen to it that is, a certain man [who shall remain nameless] forbade the listening of certain music that wasn't Christian). I listen to 90's pop, Christian music, Michael Jackson, Celine Dion and Whitney Houston. I think about Doug, the Rugrats, All That, Wishbone, Are You Afraid of the Dark and Cousin Skeeter. I read excerpts from "Saddle Club", "The Boxcar Children" and "Goosebumps" (which I didn't read until I was in my late teens).
And sometimes, because I'm rediscovering my childhood, I discover new music and I fall in love with a decade when everything seemed so much more simple! At least to me. Do you remember when Britney was at the top of her game? Songs like "Lucky" and "Oops I did it Again"? Or "Big Butts"? We were the Nintendo players, the Mariah Carey lovers, the believers of Aliens and Y2K. We wore high tops and had crew cut hair. We were insane and believed in so much, hoped for so much.
I miss those times. I really do. I don't know why, because the 90's had its downsides too. Like any decade. Like any day. Like any life. But the 90's was my childhood. When I went swimming with my Aunt Carmen all summer. Or cleaned house with my Aunt Peggy, who would let me spend the night and watch Mork & Mindy in between homeschooling lessons.
I miss getting cappuccino for the first time and discovering how delicious it was. I miss running through the woods and pretending it was Narnia. I miss discovering "The Yellow Submarine" with my brother and all the movies my mom introduced us to. I miss falling asleep to Simon & Garfunkel at night and dancing with Hannah to Loggins & Messina. The 90's was my playground, my perfect time. My biggest worries were the boys I was crushing on and Y2K (which everyone was afraid of).
For New Year's Chris and I would stay up until midnight watching "Much Ado About Nothing" and "Henry V" with our family friend, Ivan, while eating pizza and teasing Ivan when he would cover his eyes during the bloody parts. We went to the Egyptian exhibit at the Children's Museum and rode our bikes up and down the gravel roads.
My mother taught me to read, inspired me to write, inspired a love of literature and writing, of exploring everything. She taught me that every moment is a learning moment.
I played with Hannah, my baby sister. She looked like Shirley Temple at 2. I took her outside and chased her all over the yard. At night she would kick me out of bed, even though she was 2 and I was 10. As a baby, I would feed her cheerios in her bouncy seat and sing her Simon & Garfunkel songs as lullabies. I would read books about Sacajawea and Sesame Street. She was my first experience with a baby (when I would've been old enough to understand it). And, in a way, she was my baby. I protected her, I dressed her up, I changed her diapers and fed her. I played dolls with her. And I failed her in many ways. And, in many ways, she is still my baby, even though she is 15 now.
Chris and I would race our bikes, try stupid stunts (like tying Chris to the back of my bike to help him run faster and "lose weight") and chopping wood. We chopped a lot of wood, fed and watered a lot of dogs. I forced him to play Barbie dolls with me and he drove me up a wall. We dressed up, we fought, we forgave each other and he is one of my best friends to this day.
I met my best friend, Sarah W., a friendship that has lasted us 13 years this year. We used to talk on the phone for hours and hours. We watched "Pocahontas" over the phone, because we didn't get to hang out in real life as often as we wished. We played Gordon Lightfoot as loud as possible and scream-sang along. We picked berries and ate them all, while sitting in a field of green and white. We played Legos and made up stories. We ran wild, wrote notes in our own secret language during church. She helped me fall in love with snakes. I helped her fall in love with Star Wars.
I believed in Jesus with all my heart. Believed there was some reason for all the pain, for all hard times. For all the deaths and the lies. The 1990's were beautiful to me, even though I had a step-father who abused my brother and my mother almost died on our bathroom floor. Even though I was sexually abused. Even though my grandparents died. Even though it was the last time I saw my father in person. The last I spoke to him on the phone. The last letter I received. I believed that a good and just God was going to make it all right. That He was polishing me like how a gem is polished with stones.
I wanted to be a doctor. I wanted to deliver babies in China, stop the abortions from happening. Protect the innocent. I wanted to be an actress and star in the movies I had seen. I wanted to be a writer. I wanted to be a civil rights activist. I wanted to be free. Dream my dreams, live my life. I wanted to be married and have 16 children that I would home-school. I wanted to be a missionary. I wanted to be loved.
Do any of those childhood dreams still hold sway? Can they still exist now that I'm older, wiser, and I know all that I know?
For your viewing pleasure, a song from the 1990's that I used to dance to, alone in my room.
That's right, "Livin' La Vida Loca" by Ricky Martin. And yes, I am that dorky.
My friends and I have some very odd conversations, text wise. Some we have in person, but they aren't always as hilarious. So, for your viewing pleasure here are some of the crazy texts my friends and I have had.
Me: Communist.
11:27PM Thu, 13 January
My Brother: Liberal :P
12:27AM Fri, 14 January
~
K: You only get married once (hypothetically) lol. If a wedding isn't something that is important to you, I say go for it. BUT!!! If even a fraction of you wants a wedding, big or small, I would wait. You could end up resenting your spouse later on, ruining your marriage and causing you to join the circus. I've seen it a hundred times. Also: I happen to be a great wedding singer. I do all Whitney Houston songs, and my rate is low.
12:23PM Thu, 14 July
Me: Well the thinking is that we get married @ the courthouse, then save for a real wedding later on. Also, joining the circus doesn't seem so bad.
12:29PM Thu, 14 July
Me: You are a wedding singer?
12:30PM
K: Ahhh well that doesn't sound too bad. Provided you're ready to be married. Never rush into a decision you have your entire life to make. Am I a wedding singer?
Inside: yes.
Professionally: no.
Your wedding would be my debut.
12:36PM
Me: Whitney Houston is your specialty? I don't think we are rushing. We will have been together 3 years by our chosen wedding date. We've been engaged a year.
12:45PM
K: Yes. I feel like Whitney really gets me. Then I say go for it! Just remember to send me an invitation!
12:48PM
Me: You're wanting to sing at the Monroe County Courthouse on September 1st? Lol.
12:51PM
K: No no.. At a real wedding.
1:03PM
Me: Lol. I know, I was teasing. I will send you an invite someday. I am sure that you will receive many invitations to sing after your debut.
1:07PM
K: Thats a given.
1:08PM
~
Phil: Hi parch i mean sarai
9:00PM Thu, 13 January
~
Me: Are you working tomorrow?
1:29PM Thu, 14 July
K: Yessum.
1:29PM
Me: I work as well. 2 - 6. POS in fact. I am taking a shift for H. Is he okay? He has been acting strangely. He seemed really down yesterday.
1:33PM
K: No idea. He was over here the other night. Maybe he's pregnant.
1:33PM
Me: That's true. He has been eating a lot of pickles and ice cream.
1:34PM
~
Phil: chicken butt sex!!! omg!
2:15PM Sat, 29 January
~
K: What is her number again?
10:09PM Wed, 10 August
Me: Why do you always lose her number?
10:55PM Wed, 10 August
K: Hahaha i just never save it.
11:13PM
Me: Silly goose.
11:14PM
K: If I am a bird, I would be an owl. Or an eagle. Or a wolf!!! Muahahaha!
11:19PM
Me: Wolves are not birds!
11:20PM
K: I know.. I got carried away.
11:21PM
Me: Noticed. At least you aren't an acid spraying honey badger?
11:23PM
K: Indeed. Badgers are rude.
11:27PM
Me: Quite.
11:29PM
~
Phil: Anything exciting happening today?
2:00PM Sun, 13 February
Me: The entire state decided to divorce Illinois and move back to live with its mother Montana. Other than that no.
2:04PM Sun, 13 February
~
Fawn: The highlight of my night. Trent reading porn titles off the TV. We are laughing hysterically...
12:36AM Tue, 29 March
~
K: Twainism is a religion I would follow without hesitation.
8:31 PM Mon, 02 May
~
Zach: God, your such a tease:p
10:50PM Fri, 03 June
~
Me: K. I am drunk texting you. Lol
10:40PM Fri, 15 April
Me: I love alcohol. Tee hee
10:48PM
K: I love you.
10:54PM
~
SJ: Hows it hanging ?
9:55PM Wed, 09 March
Me: Free and happy?
9:56PM Wed, 09 March
SJ: Lol tell donny I said to put some pants on
9:56PM
Whilst searching through blogs here on Blogger, I discovered this one particular blog (through yet another blog) called "White and Delightsome." This blog is dedicated to "Awkward and peculiar Mormon erotica." I'm so not joking! There is literally this woman who posts blogs revolving around Mormon Erotica. Holy snickerdoodles, Batman!
I read the first few blogs and realized that my life hadn't been complete up until now. I never knew something this hilarious could ever exist!! Not only is it over the top writing (everything I read was filled with "heaving bosoms"), but it is hilarious with all kinds of references to the Mormon church and its leadership.
Also, there is definitely a reference to a rather racist view the Mormons have, though she doesn't say it overtly. It doesn't take much to realize the connection there.
"White and Delightsome."
"The Way a Woman should Be." Apparently women are only supposed to be White and "Delightsome", whatever the hell that means. I think she meant Delightful.
So here you are, the link to this gloriously hilarious and awkward blog involving sex and Mormons.
http://whiteanddelightsome.com/
This really makes me think of "Orgazmo", a 1997 movie that Fawn forced me to watch when I lived with her a couple years ago. Rather than try and explain it to you, here is the trailer for this wonderful movie about Mormons and Porn.
