I just experienced my first Drag Queen show. O_O
It was INSANE and AWESOME and AWKWARD and MAGICAL. Yep.
Also, I'm betting this one dude (who kept going up there to give the "ladies" money, apparently that is acceptable at a Drag show... O.O) was totally married as a cover. He just acted shifty about it all.
And there was this super cute lesbian couple! I wished I was their friend. Or their girlfriend (either one really, they were both beautiful). :( Oh well, maybe lady love will find me? Until then, I guess I have to make due and be patient.
Anyway, it was a great night and I got to spend it with friends which is the best part. ^_^
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Friday, January 27, 2012
All of Her: Chapter Nine
The next two weeks go very smoothly. Except for not talking to Noah, who is still angry with me. I return to work, internship and school all in one fell swoop. I talk to Clark at night when he is grading papers and usually end up falling asleep with the phone tucked in-between my shoulder and ear.
I am doing very well, all things considered. I've even made a new friend, amidst all the chaos of work and school. Jahan is a little younger than me and from a very strict Islamic background. A sweet girl, fun to be around, very opinionated. She is in the last Econ class I have to take before I can graduate. From the few discussions we have I discover that she is named for the Persian poetess, Jahan Khatun.
Because of Jahan, my interest in Persian poetry has flared and I spend a portion of my time at work collecting a small stack of books on the subject. She laughs when I mention it during a partner project. Her gray eyes peek out of her niqab, or veil, they are twinkling.
"Are you that interested in Persian poetry? Or is it me that you are interested in?" she asks, still laughing.
"Both, I suppose. I have never had someone with such an interesting name or such an interesting background. I have had a few Islamic friends, but none that wore the niqab and burqa like you. I've also never read Persian poetry. Though, working at a rare and used book store, you would think I'd come across some while I was dusting."
She is quiet for a few minutes. I begin to wonder if I've offended her somehow. I begin to chew on a hang-nail, nervously. The corners of her eyes crinkle a little. I hope that means she is smiling at me, rather than getting angry at me. She laughs, again, relieving a little of my anxiety.
We end up spending a few days reading over some of the Persian poetry I've dug up, including that of her namesake. She comes over to the store and sits with me behind the counter. We read all sorts of things I wouldn't have read before. Or, wouldn't have thought to read anyway. It is nice to have a female friend again.
I begin the last leg of my internship. Once the internship has finished, I will have a review and will officially be considered for permanent employment with the company. This and graduation are only a month or two away. All in all, I would say everything is going quite well.
I am walking to my car from work, the sign for a new club lighting the way. In big neon letters, in ever-changing colors, "Alice's Wonderland" is spelled out. From what little music I hear, as I walk by it, their tastes are eclectic. Probably all a part of the "wonderland" experience. Different songs to match different drinks and lusts. Different lights to create a different atmosphere in which to pretend to be a different person. Sounds like a place I should visit once Clark and I are over.
I wonder if I would actually take home a stranger from a strange bar just to sink further into this growing addiction. I stop under one of the blinking letters and look up. Just beyond the flashing lights I see a few stars beginning to appear. They aren't bright enough to outshine the neon writing. I'm sure there is some metaphor that I should take away from this. Some deeper meaning I'm meant to take to heart about my life and how I'm living it. Who cares for metaphors?
At home my cat meows at me furiously. He is hungry and where have I been? Not at home feeding him, most certainly not! I smile, indulgently, and fill his food bowl. It is going to be a boring, stay at home, kind of night. I have some homework I should finish for Econ, but I am not in the mood.
I grab my laptop and search random music on the net. I stumble across some bands I've never heard before. I enjoy almost everything I find. I am in a "liking" mood, I guess. I even find a Persian group that I find myself dancing to.
In the middle of a song my phone begins to chirp. I pick it up without hesitation and without looking at the caller ID.
"Hello?" I say, slightly distracted by my dinner preparations.
"Hey, Abra." I almost drop the phone at the voice. I do drop my cooking utensils, however. I quickly run over to the computer and silence the music.
"What do you want, David?" I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. I'm not sure if its because his voice still does it for me or if its because I just ran to the computer.
"I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. We ended things on a bit of a tense note last time." He doesn't sound guilty, but maybe he is. I hate the feelings welling up inside of the pool I thought I'd dammed.
"I wonder why things would've been tense, Davey. I mean, you only tried to seduce me out of my engagement ring. Which is rightfully mine, by the way, since you broke off the engagement. Have you sold it yet?" I can't keep that jagged edge out of my voice. I would rather eat a bowl full of nails right now than continue this conversation. My stomach feels like I ate the bowl too, for good measure.
"I haven't. I realized it was wrong of me to take it from you and I want to return it. Seeing as how you are still angry at me," I snort. "I didn't know if you would open the door for me to return it. Keep it, sell it, I don't care. I just don't want to keep it from you."
I hesitate. He sounds sincere. But anyone can sound sincere.
"Alice doesn't want it." I say it more like a statement than a question. I'm sure she remembers how long I waited for that ring. Does she remember how I cried when David proposed with it? Does she think about how long I waited for him to go through with his promises? I wonder if she ever feels a tremor of guilt for all the pain she has caused. Is still causing.
"Don't you think Alice deserves her own ring?" He says. I wonder, briefly, if he realizes what a mistake it was.
"Would you like to know what I think Alice deserves? I think Alice deserves as much agony as you have put me through. I think she deserves nothing less than my undying hatred and disdain. And I think you deserve no less. Bring the ring back, sell it, give it to Alice. I don't care anymore, David. If you need the money for a new ring, a better ring I'm sure since Alice deserves no less, sell it. Sell it or melt it down for scrap. If you bring it back, give it to the landlord, because I won't answer the door. And I won't answer your calls anymore."
"Don't you think you are being unreasonable, Abra?" He is getting angry. I don't care, I'm angrier.
"Unreasonable? Is it unreasonable to be angry that you have been lying to me for, God only knows, how long? Is it unreasonable to be angry that I gave you everything and you betray me like this? I don't think its unreasonable at all. If anything, I think you are being unreasonable for expecting me to not be hurt by everything that you and my 'best friend' have done to me!" I am losing what little cool I may have had and I'm starting to yell.
"Its not like you didn't know something was going on! You practically invited this by telling me you were in love with her too!"
I feel like someone just gutted me. My chin trembles and I feel like I'm going to be sick.
"I... I knew? I invited this? I told you, in confidence, that I was sexually attracted to Alice as well as to you. That I was in love with the both of you. And that justifies you going behind my back and fucking her? How was I too know what was going on? I was too busy being in love with an asshole like you and a bitch like her. I was too busy planning my wedding that I ended up having to pay for even though it didn't happen! Never, in my wildest nightmares, did I ever stop to think that maybe you were in love with someone else. Especially not my supposed best friend."
"You know, I called because I was trying to be nice and give you back your ring. I don't want to fight with you if you are going to be a bitch. I'll leave the ring with the landlord tomorrow along with the rest of my half of the rent."
"Fine. Do what you like. I could, honestly, care less." I hang up on him.
I have to scream. I have to break something. I need to get out of here. I need something, but I'm not sure what. I practically throw the food I was preparing into the fridge. I grab my keys, my purse and slip into a pair of sandals. I flip off the lights and lock the apartment door, then practically fly to my car. I need to drive. I don't care where I go, I just have to drive.
I don't know where I am headed. I'm just driving along, passing familiar landmarks after non-familiar landmarks. At first I think that I should go to Noah's. However, after our last argument, I think I had better not. Plus, what if he has "company?" I would hate to interrupt another "intimate encounter" of the groin kind. Interrupting potential sexy time is not the way to win him back over.
On the other hand, maybe he has forgiven me and doesn't know how to approach me. Like how I've been feeling recently. Or he could still be ridiculously furious. The man holds a grudge like no other. I don't even understand why he is mad at me anyway. I am damned if I do and damned if I don't with him. No, I'm not going over there. The last thing I want right now is a scene.
Maybe I should go over to Clark's? Its a little out of the way considering my current direction, but I could turn around. I look to the left and see a coffee place. I could turn around in their parking lot. Or I could turn around in the shopping mart's parking lot on my right.
I don't want to bother him. The closer to the end of the school year, the more work he has to do. I've been keeping him up late recently as well. I'm sure he wouldn't mind and would actually encourage me to come over and talk about it. He is turning into a wonderful friend, but I don't want to bother him this time.
I could go to my mother's, I suppose. I just don't want to talk to my mom about this. She doesn't know a lot of what happened with David. I suspect it would only hurt her to find out just how awful the situation has become. She really loved David, like he was her own son. I really loved David.
I come to a stop sign and just sit there, staring off into space. I guess I should really just go home and finish fixing dinner. Maybe I will call Noah and ask him to forgive me. I'll ask him to come over and have dinner with me so I won't be alone. I'll confess my entire plans, but I won't let him dissuade me. I'm drawn out of my thoughts by an angry horn blaring behind me. I quickly begin driving again, looking for a place to turn around and go back to my apartment.
I find a suitable turn-around place and begin heading back toward my place. Maybe I should call one of my sisters instead of Noah? I haven't spent nearly as much time with Sophie or Emma as I should. Though, this isn't the best time to bother them. Especially not with this. That's a terrible idea. Why did I even think of it?
I'll just stick with my plan of calling Noah. If he won't come, I'll call my older sister and see what she is doing. Hopefully, she won't be super busy with the kids and I could go over there and talk to her.
I trudge up the stairs to my apartment, phone in hand. I am gathering the courage to call. I really don't want to get lectured, but I don't want this rift to continue between my friend and me. It is ridiculous for us to fight like this.
I dial his number and wait.
"Hello?" He sounds less angry than the last time I spoke to him. That could be because he didn't check the caller ID before answering. Or it could mean he has forgiven me.
"Hey, Noah. Its Abra."
There is a small silence on the line.
"Are you there?"
"I'm here. What do need, Abe?" He sounds annoyed now, but he used my nickname so maybe there is hope.
"I was just wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner and we could talk. I know you are still mad at me, but I miss you and I just want to talk." I sound desperate, though I am very sincere.
"What are we having?" He says it almost like a sigh. I smile, though, because it means he is on the path to forgiving me.
We talk for a few minutes and then I hang up to finish preparing dinner. I turn my music back on and dance a little while I toss the salad. It isn't long before there is a knock on the door.
We hug each other as he comes in. We load our plates with salad, rosemary-garlic mashed potatoes and chicken breast. Noah brought some cheesecake cookies, a secret recipe he has been trying to perfect for a few years now. We eat in companionable silence for a little bit, just listening to my music and our teeth chewing food.
"What did you want to talk about?" He asks.
"You won't believe the gall David had today. He actually told me that I was being unreasonable!" I set my fork down, none to gently, on my plate. "He said I invited this on myself by admitting that I wanted Alice. Can you believe that?"
Noah shakes his head and takes another bite of potatoes.
"After all that he has done to you, you to still expect him to be nice and act like a gentleman."
"I can't help it." I say. "I still care about him, even though I hate his guts right now. It still throws me off balance when he acts like an ass, because he used to be so nice."
"Newsflash, honey, he was never 'nice.' He has always treated you rather poorly. You've just been wearing rose colored glasses, singing 'La Vie en Rose', for so long it shocks you when the glasses come off." He is so nonchalant about all this. I am envious. I wish I could be so cool and detached from this whole mess.
"Well those glasses have been ripped from my face and I am never putting them on again." I say, stabbing at a wayward carrot.
"You say that now, but I know you. At the next opportunity those glasses will be back in place as if they had never left."
"I'm serious, Noah. I've broken them and I'll never wear another pair. I will never be deceived by love again. Or love again, for that matter."
"Don't be dramatic," he says. "You will learn to love again. It just takes time. Luckily, you are young and have plenty of time."
"You say that like you are so much older than me." I laugh.
It feels good to be here with Noah. If only I could keep it like this moment for a little while. I need to tell him the truth about what I'm doing, but I don't want to. It keeps coming back to my not wanting to fight with him. It will hurt him. My sexual and emotional self-destruction is going to take a toll. Not only on myself, but on those around me. I am self aware enough to know this, but too selfish to care. I am the one hurting, why should I care about anyone else's pain?
"What's the matter, Abe? You look very serious." I look up at him and manage a small smile. He has put down his fork and he looks concerned.
"I'm just thinking. I'm fine. Insane, but fine."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Yes and no. I want to tell you something, but I know it is only going to make you angry at me and it will hurt you. I don't want to make you angry or hurt you." I feel a little guilty for even hinting at it.
"Don't tell me. Right now I don't want to know. I just want to enjoy your company. I am tired of being mad at you. You were right, you are an adult and I need to let you be. Don't tell me now, I think I already know anyway. So let's pretend that I don't and make believe that everything is okay."
"Now who is wearing rose colored glasses?" I say, smiling.
"I am. Damn proud of it too." He smiles. A beautiful and sad smile. I hate that I am the cause of that sadness even though I have no intentions of stopping it.
We eat the rest of our dinner in silence. We sneak pieces of chicken to the cat when we think the other isn't looking. We gorge ourselves on Noah's cheesecake cookies and play a couple rounds of "Clue." We make silly faces at each other and laugh until we cry. We have a great time.
Eventually we snuggle up on the couch, my head resting in his lap and his hand tangled in my hair, and watch a movie. He falls asleep half way through and I follow suit.
I dream that everything up until this point has been a vivid nightmare. I wake, in the dream, to what reality should've been like. A perfect wedding day. A beautiful honeymoon. A few years of wedded bliss and a baby on the way. I dream of David and I growing old, more in love with each other than when we married.
I wake up crying, knowing that dreams can sometimes tell a vicious lie.
I am doing very well, all things considered. I've even made a new friend, amidst all the chaos of work and school. Jahan is a little younger than me and from a very strict Islamic background. A sweet girl, fun to be around, very opinionated. She is in the last Econ class I have to take before I can graduate. From the few discussions we have I discover that she is named for the Persian poetess, Jahan Khatun.
Because of Jahan, my interest in Persian poetry has flared and I spend a portion of my time at work collecting a small stack of books on the subject. She laughs when I mention it during a partner project. Her gray eyes peek out of her niqab, or veil, they are twinkling.
"Are you that interested in Persian poetry? Or is it me that you are interested in?" she asks, still laughing.
"Both, I suppose. I have never had someone with such an interesting name or such an interesting background. I have had a few Islamic friends, but none that wore the niqab and burqa like you. I've also never read Persian poetry. Though, working at a rare and used book store, you would think I'd come across some while I was dusting."
She is quiet for a few minutes. I begin to wonder if I've offended her somehow. I begin to chew on a hang-nail, nervously. The corners of her eyes crinkle a little. I hope that means she is smiling at me, rather than getting angry at me. She laughs, again, relieving a little of my anxiety.
We end up spending a few days reading over some of the Persian poetry I've dug up, including that of her namesake. She comes over to the store and sits with me behind the counter. We read all sorts of things I wouldn't have read before. Or, wouldn't have thought to read anyway. It is nice to have a female friend again.
I begin the last leg of my internship. Once the internship has finished, I will have a review and will officially be considered for permanent employment with the company. This and graduation are only a month or two away. All in all, I would say everything is going quite well.
I am walking to my car from work, the sign for a new club lighting the way. In big neon letters, in ever-changing colors, "Alice's Wonderland" is spelled out. From what little music I hear, as I walk by it, their tastes are eclectic. Probably all a part of the "wonderland" experience. Different songs to match different drinks and lusts. Different lights to create a different atmosphere in which to pretend to be a different person. Sounds like a place I should visit once Clark and I are over.
I wonder if I would actually take home a stranger from a strange bar just to sink further into this growing addiction. I stop under one of the blinking letters and look up. Just beyond the flashing lights I see a few stars beginning to appear. They aren't bright enough to outshine the neon writing. I'm sure there is some metaphor that I should take away from this. Some deeper meaning I'm meant to take to heart about my life and how I'm living it. Who cares for metaphors?
At home my cat meows at me furiously. He is hungry and where have I been? Not at home feeding him, most certainly not! I smile, indulgently, and fill his food bowl. It is going to be a boring, stay at home, kind of night. I have some homework I should finish for Econ, but I am not in the mood.
I grab my laptop and search random music on the net. I stumble across some bands I've never heard before. I enjoy almost everything I find. I am in a "liking" mood, I guess. I even find a Persian group that I find myself dancing to.
In the middle of a song my phone begins to chirp. I pick it up without hesitation and without looking at the caller ID.
"Hello?" I say, slightly distracted by my dinner preparations.
"Hey, Abra." I almost drop the phone at the voice. I do drop my cooking utensils, however. I quickly run over to the computer and silence the music.
"What do you want, David?" I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. I'm not sure if its because his voice still does it for me or if its because I just ran to the computer.
"I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. We ended things on a bit of a tense note last time." He doesn't sound guilty, but maybe he is. I hate the feelings welling up inside of the pool I thought I'd dammed.
"I wonder why things would've been tense, Davey. I mean, you only tried to seduce me out of my engagement ring. Which is rightfully mine, by the way, since you broke off the engagement. Have you sold it yet?" I can't keep that jagged edge out of my voice. I would rather eat a bowl full of nails right now than continue this conversation. My stomach feels like I ate the bowl too, for good measure.
"I haven't. I realized it was wrong of me to take it from you and I want to return it. Seeing as how you are still angry at me," I snort. "I didn't know if you would open the door for me to return it. Keep it, sell it, I don't care. I just don't want to keep it from you."
I hesitate. He sounds sincere. But anyone can sound sincere.
"Alice doesn't want it." I say it more like a statement than a question. I'm sure she remembers how long I waited for that ring. Does she remember how I cried when David proposed with it? Does she think about how long I waited for him to go through with his promises? I wonder if she ever feels a tremor of guilt for all the pain she has caused. Is still causing.
"Don't you think Alice deserves her own ring?" He says. I wonder, briefly, if he realizes what a mistake it was.
"Would you like to know what I think Alice deserves? I think Alice deserves as much agony as you have put me through. I think she deserves nothing less than my undying hatred and disdain. And I think you deserve no less. Bring the ring back, sell it, give it to Alice. I don't care anymore, David. If you need the money for a new ring, a better ring I'm sure since Alice deserves no less, sell it. Sell it or melt it down for scrap. If you bring it back, give it to the landlord, because I won't answer the door. And I won't answer your calls anymore."
"Don't you think you are being unreasonable, Abra?" He is getting angry. I don't care, I'm angrier.
"Unreasonable? Is it unreasonable to be angry that you have been lying to me for, God only knows, how long? Is it unreasonable to be angry that I gave you everything and you betray me like this? I don't think its unreasonable at all. If anything, I think you are being unreasonable for expecting me to not be hurt by everything that you and my 'best friend' have done to me!" I am losing what little cool I may have had and I'm starting to yell.
"Its not like you didn't know something was going on! You practically invited this by telling me you were in love with her too!"
I feel like someone just gutted me. My chin trembles and I feel like I'm going to be sick.
"I... I knew? I invited this? I told you, in confidence, that I was sexually attracted to Alice as well as to you. That I was in love with the both of you. And that justifies you going behind my back and fucking her? How was I too know what was going on? I was too busy being in love with an asshole like you and a bitch like her. I was too busy planning my wedding that I ended up having to pay for even though it didn't happen! Never, in my wildest nightmares, did I ever stop to think that maybe you were in love with someone else. Especially not my supposed best friend."
"You know, I called because I was trying to be nice and give you back your ring. I don't want to fight with you if you are going to be a bitch. I'll leave the ring with the landlord tomorrow along with the rest of my half of the rent."
"Fine. Do what you like. I could, honestly, care less." I hang up on him.
I have to scream. I have to break something. I need to get out of here. I need something, but I'm not sure what. I practically throw the food I was preparing into the fridge. I grab my keys, my purse and slip into a pair of sandals. I flip off the lights and lock the apartment door, then practically fly to my car. I need to drive. I don't care where I go, I just have to drive.
I don't know where I am headed. I'm just driving along, passing familiar landmarks after non-familiar landmarks. At first I think that I should go to Noah's. However, after our last argument, I think I had better not. Plus, what if he has "company?" I would hate to interrupt another "intimate encounter" of the groin kind. Interrupting potential sexy time is not the way to win him back over.
On the other hand, maybe he has forgiven me and doesn't know how to approach me. Like how I've been feeling recently. Or he could still be ridiculously furious. The man holds a grudge like no other. I don't even understand why he is mad at me anyway. I am damned if I do and damned if I don't with him. No, I'm not going over there. The last thing I want right now is a scene.
Maybe I should go over to Clark's? Its a little out of the way considering my current direction, but I could turn around. I look to the left and see a coffee place. I could turn around in their parking lot. Or I could turn around in the shopping mart's parking lot on my right.
I don't want to bother him. The closer to the end of the school year, the more work he has to do. I've been keeping him up late recently as well. I'm sure he wouldn't mind and would actually encourage me to come over and talk about it. He is turning into a wonderful friend, but I don't want to bother him this time.
I could go to my mother's, I suppose. I just don't want to talk to my mom about this. She doesn't know a lot of what happened with David. I suspect it would only hurt her to find out just how awful the situation has become. She really loved David, like he was her own son. I really loved David.
I come to a stop sign and just sit there, staring off into space. I guess I should really just go home and finish fixing dinner. Maybe I will call Noah and ask him to forgive me. I'll ask him to come over and have dinner with me so I won't be alone. I'll confess my entire plans, but I won't let him dissuade me. I'm drawn out of my thoughts by an angry horn blaring behind me. I quickly begin driving again, looking for a place to turn around and go back to my apartment.
I find a suitable turn-around place and begin heading back toward my place. Maybe I should call one of my sisters instead of Noah? I haven't spent nearly as much time with Sophie or Emma as I should. Though, this isn't the best time to bother them. Especially not with this. That's a terrible idea. Why did I even think of it?
I'll just stick with my plan of calling Noah. If he won't come, I'll call my older sister and see what she is doing. Hopefully, she won't be super busy with the kids and I could go over there and talk to her.
I trudge up the stairs to my apartment, phone in hand. I am gathering the courage to call. I really don't want to get lectured, but I don't want this rift to continue between my friend and me. It is ridiculous for us to fight like this.
I dial his number and wait.
"Hello?" He sounds less angry than the last time I spoke to him. That could be because he didn't check the caller ID before answering. Or it could mean he has forgiven me.
"Hey, Noah. Its Abra."
There is a small silence on the line.
"Are you there?"
"I'm here. What do need, Abe?" He sounds annoyed now, but he used my nickname so maybe there is hope.
"I was just wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner and we could talk. I know you are still mad at me, but I miss you and I just want to talk." I sound desperate, though I am very sincere.
"What are we having?" He says it almost like a sigh. I smile, though, because it means he is on the path to forgiving me.
We talk for a few minutes and then I hang up to finish preparing dinner. I turn my music back on and dance a little while I toss the salad. It isn't long before there is a knock on the door.
We hug each other as he comes in. We load our plates with salad, rosemary-garlic mashed potatoes and chicken breast. Noah brought some cheesecake cookies, a secret recipe he has been trying to perfect for a few years now. We eat in companionable silence for a little bit, just listening to my music and our teeth chewing food.
"What did you want to talk about?" He asks.
"You won't believe the gall David had today. He actually told me that I was being unreasonable!" I set my fork down, none to gently, on my plate. "He said I invited this on myself by admitting that I wanted Alice. Can you believe that?"
Noah shakes his head and takes another bite of potatoes.
"After all that he has done to you, you to still expect him to be nice and act like a gentleman."
"I can't help it." I say. "I still care about him, even though I hate his guts right now. It still throws me off balance when he acts like an ass, because he used to be so nice."
"Newsflash, honey, he was never 'nice.' He has always treated you rather poorly. You've just been wearing rose colored glasses, singing 'La Vie en Rose', for so long it shocks you when the glasses come off." He is so nonchalant about all this. I am envious. I wish I could be so cool and detached from this whole mess.
"Well those glasses have been ripped from my face and I am never putting them on again." I say, stabbing at a wayward carrot.
"You say that now, but I know you. At the next opportunity those glasses will be back in place as if they had never left."
"I'm serious, Noah. I've broken them and I'll never wear another pair. I will never be deceived by love again. Or love again, for that matter."
"Don't be dramatic," he says. "You will learn to love again. It just takes time. Luckily, you are young and have plenty of time."
"You say that like you are so much older than me." I laugh.
It feels good to be here with Noah. If only I could keep it like this moment for a little while. I need to tell him the truth about what I'm doing, but I don't want to. It keeps coming back to my not wanting to fight with him. It will hurt him. My sexual and emotional self-destruction is going to take a toll. Not only on myself, but on those around me. I am self aware enough to know this, but too selfish to care. I am the one hurting, why should I care about anyone else's pain?
"What's the matter, Abe? You look very serious." I look up at him and manage a small smile. He has put down his fork and he looks concerned.
"I'm just thinking. I'm fine. Insane, but fine."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Yes and no. I want to tell you something, but I know it is only going to make you angry at me and it will hurt you. I don't want to make you angry or hurt you." I feel a little guilty for even hinting at it.
"Don't tell me. Right now I don't want to know. I just want to enjoy your company. I am tired of being mad at you. You were right, you are an adult and I need to let you be. Don't tell me now, I think I already know anyway. So let's pretend that I don't and make believe that everything is okay."
"Now who is wearing rose colored glasses?" I say, smiling.
"I am. Damn proud of it too." He smiles. A beautiful and sad smile. I hate that I am the cause of that sadness even though I have no intentions of stopping it.
We eat the rest of our dinner in silence. We sneak pieces of chicken to the cat when we think the other isn't looking. We gorge ourselves on Noah's cheesecake cookies and play a couple rounds of "Clue." We make silly faces at each other and laugh until we cry. We have a great time.
Eventually we snuggle up on the couch, my head resting in his lap and his hand tangled in my hair, and watch a movie. He falls asleep half way through and I follow suit.
I dream that everything up until this point has been a vivid nightmare. I wake, in the dream, to what reality should've been like. A perfect wedding day. A beautiful honeymoon. A few years of wedded bliss and a baby on the way. I dream of David and I growing old, more in love with each other than when we married.
I wake up crying, knowing that dreams can sometimes tell a vicious lie.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
A black cat stole my heart
Whilst on my random music kick last night (that brought my love of Mucc roaring back) I happened to come across this group called Black Cats. They are a Persian group (or Iranian, depending on who you are) with a lot of interesting dance music.
One of my favorites is "The Popfather." It is hilariously bad, but I love it so much! They reference a lot of artists I don't know, but they do mention the Beatles and MC Hammer, both interesting picks in any song.
Another that I really love is "Faryad." But the reason that I like it is very different. Even though it has a very poppy sound, do not be fooled. It is a very dark song about dark times. It is very sad too, as it questions the humanity of other humans. (Something I question all the time, but that is beside the point)
However, today is special. You are going to get a two-for-one special on music. First you get the sad/dark song about war (with poppy, up-beat tempos) and then you get my all time favorite Black Cats Song!
Now for something to pep you back up (not that I expect you to have lost too much pep, since the meaning of something gets lost in translation. Especially when it is disguised with a poppy sound). "Ey Daad" is just awesome. It was the first song by Black Cats that I found and I immediately liked it. I don't understand it, but I like the sound and the rhythm of the words. The cadence of the language, if you will.
That's it, for now. I will probably post more later on. But for now I have a can of Salt and Vinegar Pringles calling my name and I can resist no longer.
One of my favorites is "The Popfather." It is hilariously bad, but I love it so much! They reference a lot of artists I don't know, but they do mention the Beatles and MC Hammer, both interesting picks in any song.
Another that I really love is "Faryad." But the reason that I like it is very different. Even though it has a very poppy sound, do not be fooled. It is a very dark song about dark times. It is very sad too, as it questions the humanity of other humans. (Something I question all the time, but that is beside the point)
However, today is special. You are going to get a two-for-one special on music. First you get the sad/dark song about war (with poppy, up-beat tempos) and then you get my all time favorite Black Cats Song!
Now for something to pep you back up (not that I expect you to have lost too much pep, since the meaning of something gets lost in translation. Especially when it is disguised with a poppy sound). "Ey Daad" is just awesome. It was the first song by Black Cats that I found and I immediately liked it. I don't understand it, but I like the sound and the rhythm of the words. The cadence of the language, if you will.
That's it, for now. I will probably post more later on. But for now I have a can of Salt and Vinegar Pringles calling my name and I can resist no longer.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Random is as Random does.
On a random music kick (and while attempting to write Chapter Nine) I rediscovered my love for the Japanese Visual Kei group Mucc. Completely by accident mind you. I didn't even realize it was Mucc at first, because the titles were in Japanese. I was just clicking and listening really. Which is how I find most of my music, but that is beside the point.
It is while I'm randomly clicking that I find a song that I really, really, like. It isn't the Mucc I'm used to. It is softer and sweeter sounding. At least in my opinion. I remember not being overly fond of Mucc because there was a lot of unnecessary screaming involved. But in this song there isn't any screaming.
Unfortunately, YouTube won't let me embed the video, but you can follow this link:
http://youtu.be/QzBrVL41a00
Beautiful song, I think. I really like it.
I think I'm going to be on a Mucc kick for a little bit. And to think, this started off as a Kagrra, kick!
It is while I'm randomly clicking that I find a song that I really, really, like. It isn't the Mucc I'm used to. It is softer and sweeter sounding. At least in my opinion. I remember not being overly fond of Mucc because there was a lot of unnecessary screaming involved. But in this song there isn't any screaming.
Unfortunately, YouTube won't let me embed the video, but you can follow this link:
Beautiful song, I think. I really like it.
I think I'm going to be on a Mucc kick for a little bit. And to think, this started off as a Kagrra, kick!
All of Her: Chapter Eight
Firstly, I'd like to apologize for not putting this up sooner. I finished it a few days ago and have simply forgotten to post it. So, for those of you who were waiting for chapter eight (with baited breath, I'm sure) here it is, with my apologies for the lateness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter Eight
I spend the night at Clark's. I probably should've gone home, but I was drinking and then we were having sex in his big bed. Then I was falling asleep in his arms, dreaming of lambs and David smiling at Alice.
I open my eyes to discover that it's eight o'clock. I am late. Shit.
I jump up and grab my clothes. I can't find my underwear, what did we do with it? I throw a pair of pants onto the bed and frantically search the room.
"Babe, what are you doing?" mumbles Clark. His face is half buried in his pillow, but he cracks one lavender eye to squint at me.
"I'm late! Where did we throw my underwear?" I'm still searching and getting more worried with each item of clothing I find.
"Babe," he says. I look up and he has my underwear hanging from one finger. I grab them and pull them on. Great, first time in a year and a half that I've been late. First time for everything right?
"Thanks," I say, giving him a hasty kiss before grabbing my sandals and running out the door.
I am now standing at my car, patting myself down for my keys. Nope. Not on me. I turn around and see Clark coming down the stairs, in his boxers. A little morning wood showing. He has my keys, though. Already he is proving to be a great boyfriend and we've only been dating for a day.
I accept the keys and give him another kiss, a more appropriate 'thank you' kiss this time. He waves to me as I start the car and pull out of the parking lot.
I smack my steering wheel and then immediately regret it. I speed all the way to my apartment, practically crashing into my neighbor's powder blue Prius as I zip into my parking spot. I sprint up the sidewalk and into my apartment, throwing on clothes and brushing my hair as I race through.
I look awful, but hopefully no one expects me to look perfect my first day back to work after my honeymoon. Except I didn't have a honeymoon. Because I didn't get married. Because my fiance left me at the altar. For my best friend.
Everything comes crashing in at that moment and I collapse on the couch, bawling. I am wasting my time. I should be at the accounting firm right now. Instead, I'm sitting here, a sobbing heap. I'm a mess. I'm a disaster in pink high heels on a purple plaid couch, with a very confused Siamese cat.
You would think that after a few weeks I would be okay with everything. You'd think the wounds would be healing and I'd be moving on with my life, instead of a sobbing mess all the time. Apparently I'm not a fast healer.
"This is getting a little ridiculous, don't you think?" says my inner voice.
I have lost all concept of time in this downward spiral. Snuggles meows, persistently, nuzzling my ankles. He is annoyed that I won't stop blubbering to pick him up. I don't blame him. I want someone to hold me too.
When I finally stop crying, its almost ten. I call work and tell them I'm not going to be able to come in. Luckily, my voice sounds awful since I've been crying, so I sound convincing.
I'm sure they think I am 'sick' from screaming during all the wild honeymoon sex I've been having. Or that I've been giving a lot of blowjobs. Or maybe they think it is an excuse to stay home and have more honeymoon sex. It doesn't matter either way. I have not been having copious amounts of newly married sex.
Since I'm not going to work, I strip down and put on some pajamas. Upon inspection, I discover my freezer is empty of a critical item. Ice cream. This isn't good. We have a code iceberg, the Titanic is going down. I need ice cream, right now.
I text Noah. When in need, always ask the best gay friend. He still hasn't texted me back after a few minutes. I stare at my phone, willing it to beep or chirp or something. After another moment it begins to chirp and I jump to answer it.
"Hello?" I croak, my throat hurts from sobbing.
"Are you okay? You sound awful!"
"No, I'm not okay. I have a code iceberg going on right now. Help me!" I flop onto the couch, apparently cuing the cat to jump onto my stomach.
"Code iceberg? Is that the one where your life is going up in flames?"
"No. That's SOS code Hindenburg, though I can see where you could confuse the two. Where are you right now?" I ask, petting a very happy Snuggles.
"A really cute guy's arms." I can hear him smiling through the phone.
"You are with someone?" I say, sitting up and almost knocking Snuggles off the couch. Noah hasn't been in a relationship for a while, so this is a bit of a shock. Especially with the lecture he just gave me yesterday.
"Let me call you back, Abe." I hear what sounds like a passionate kiss and then silence. I'm not sure if he has muted the phone or if he has hung up. I wait a moment and still don't hear anything. Then I hear a distinct click.
I guess this means I'm going to have to deal with this code iceberg all on my own.
Against my will, I begin to put on real clothes. If I felt worse than I do, I would probably not even care, but I still have a shred of dignity. It is while I am re-arranging myself into a more presentable fashion that I realize I don't have my purse. I must've left it at Clark's.
I plop down on the couch. Snuggles jumps up beside me and begins to rub against my arm. I prop my chin against my fist, like Rodin's Thinker, and decide that I should really go back to Clark's. I should really get my purse, because it is important to have my driver's license, blah, blah, freakin' blah.
Dutifully, I trudge out to my car. When I turn it on I hear a voice singing about not recognizing yourself. I glance up at myself in the rear-view. Just like the vocalist, I can't seem to recognize the girl staring back at me. I thought I knew her so well, once.
With a sigh, I start up my car and drive back over to Clark's. Its only been two days and I'm already forgetting things. I'm going to seem like a huge idiot. Not that I should worry about how I look, because the point is this relationship not lasting. However, I'm not going to break-up with a cute guy that I've only had sex with a few times after one day of dating. That is just silly.
Clark opens the door before I even knock. There is a brief moment where I have my hand, awkwardly, poised to knock without making contact with anything. I quickly drop it and smile. Clark smiles back and holds out my purse.
"I figured you would realize it was gone and come back this way."
Sheepishly, I take my purse and then stand there awkwardly wondering what to do next.
"Want to come in? Or do you have to rush right back to work?" He steps to the side and holds the door open for me.
I suddenly realize I don't want to say anything because my voice sounds like I swallowed fistfuls of glass from crying. But I can't just smile and leave without a word. That would be so weird. I smile and, meekly, go inside. He closes the door behind me.
"Are you okay? You are being very quiet." He looks kind of concerned. I smile and shake my head. I feel like the mermaid from Hans Christian Anderson's fairy tales right now. Ugh, I have to say something soon. I may implode.
"I'm fine." I squeak.
"You don't sound fine. Did you sound like that this morning?" As he talks he goes towards the kitchen and puts a tea kettle on the stove.
I sit down on his couch and mutter a mostly incoherent "No."
The next thing I know he is pressing a warm mug of tea into my hands.
"It's Moroccan, sweet and perfect for soothing a sore throat." He sits next to me and looks at me until I take a sip. It is pretty delicious. He is being so nice to me. I so don't deserve it.
"Thank you," I whisper, sipping my tea.
We sit in silence for a short time. Me sipping tea, him thumbing through a stack of what looks like reports on the impact of Latin on language as a whole. I find myself actually very interested in the subject. So much so that I sneak peeks every now and then. I eventually rest my head on his shoulder and he turns his head a little to kiss me.
Its such a simple thing. Its like we've been together for a while, rather than a couple days. It feels odd to me. Comfortable, but odd.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks, nonchalantly. He doesn't even glance up from his papers.
"I over-thought." I say.
There is another silence. I wonder, briefly, if he is annoyed with me for acting the way I have been.
"You can't allow him to have this control over you." He says, still not looking at me.
"I know."
He turns to look at me, with my head still resting on his shoulder. He kisses me and smiles.
"I promise not to preach," he says. "I just like you and don't want to see you hurt yourself."
I smile, reassuringly, and snuggle against him as he returns to grading papers. He is right, though. I can't allow David to control my life like he does. I can't let every little memory create a whole collapse of my life. I can't allow him to ruin my life every five minutes. I'd never get anything done. Its ridiculous to live like that. Even more ridiculous than the self-destructive path on which I am already set.
After a time, Clark cooks some lunch/dinner and we enjoy a quiet meal together. We converse, minimally, as if talking too much will break some kind of spell. Only disaster can follow too much conversation.
I help him do the dishes and we play a game of chess before I say goodbye. We kiss in the doorway and I drive home, calm and relaxed. I didn't need ice cream after all.
At home the cat meows hungrily at me. I feed him and stroke his silky fur before switching into some pajamas and snuggling up on the couch. I flip through the channels, trying to find something interesting to watch. I eventually settle on a program centered around a woman with too many children. However, it bores the hell out of me and I end up turning it off after fifteen minutes.
The cardinal clock on the wall says it is not late enough to go to bed. If I go to bed now I won't sleep very well and I'll end up pacing the floors at four in the morning, waiting for it to be time to get ready for work.
I glance over the books on my bookshelf and eventually settle for "Secondhand World" by Katherine Min. It is a favorite of mine, one that I've read many times, and I decide to make a cup of cocoa to go with it. While my cocoa is heating up I hear my phone begin to chirp.
I search all over for it before realizing it is in my pant's pocket in the bedroom. I run to grab it and catch it on it's last ring.
"Is code Iceberg still ongoing?" Noah sounds far too happy for my good.
"No. It has been defused by tender companionship." I say, settling back onto the couch with my cup of cocoa and my book.
"Tender companionship? From whom, dare I ask?"
"The new boyfriend." I reply, nonchalantly. I flip to the first chapter of my book and take a sip of my cocoa.
"I see. Decided to make it an official rebound relationship rather than just a rebound one or two night stand?" He sounds rather sarcastic. I don't approve.
"Might as well, right? I mean, its not like I don't have the rest of my life to have one or two night stands. Might as well have a rebound relationship or two while I'm at it. Makes me seem like less of a slut, don't you think?"
He is quiet. I don't say anything. I refuse to fill the silence, partially because it will only serve to make him more angry at me. Ah, the joys of the silent treatment.
After another moment of tense silence, I decide to say something. Anything to either get him to speak or hang up the phone.
"Are you still there?"
"I'm thinking." He says.
"Does it hurt?" I say, giggling.
"No." He snaps. "I think you are being an idiot, Abe."
"And I think I am too." This stuns him into another silence.
"Then why do it? What are you doing anyway?"
"I'm competing in the sex Olympics. Whoever has sex with the most partners, in the most positions, wins. I think I have a good shot at the silver this year, maybe gold if I work hard enough."
"You never take anything seriously!" He shouts. I jerk the phone away from my head before my eardrum bursts.
"It's complicated, darling. I can't explain it. It does no good for me to anyway. You will only yell at me some more and then continue to be mad at me. What if I told you that I genuinely like Clark? What if I said that it isn't just the sex or break-up songs? What if I said that I am not being self-destructive, I'm just experimenting? Would you believe me?" I sit my book on the end table alongside my cooling cocoa.
"No, I wouldn't believe you. Because I know you better than that. Just tell me what you hope to achieve with this scheme. You want to relate to break-up songs? There are plenty for this one relationship, without going out and finding more. You want to sleep around? I don't really blame you. You'd only ever been with David and I'm sure that your curiosity has reached its limit. But curiosity killed the cat. And you don't have nine lives to spare."
"I'm an adult, Noah. Believe it or not. I think I can make my own decisions. Regardless of the consequences."
"Yes, but can you live with those consequences?"
That is the elephant in the room, isn't it? I know I can make the decisions. I can be self-destructive. It is easy to spiral downward into the abyss of sexual self-destruction. Is it so easy to deal with the myriad of possible consequences that come with that spiral?
"I suppose that is something I'll just have to find out."
"I hope that you find out sooner, from small consequences, rather than later, from bigger ones. You know how to get a hold of me, if you need me." He sounds defeated, tired of the whole thing. To think, we haven't even started yet. And, as gracefully as an angry man can, he hangs up on me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter Eight
I spend the night at Clark's. I probably should've gone home, but I was drinking and then we were having sex in his big bed. Then I was falling asleep in his arms, dreaming of lambs and David smiling at Alice.
I open my eyes to discover that it's eight o'clock. I am late. Shit.
I jump up and grab my clothes. I can't find my underwear, what did we do with it? I throw a pair of pants onto the bed and frantically search the room.
"Babe, what are you doing?" mumbles Clark. His face is half buried in his pillow, but he cracks one lavender eye to squint at me.
"I'm late! Where did we throw my underwear?" I'm still searching and getting more worried with each item of clothing I find.
"Babe," he says. I look up and he has my underwear hanging from one finger. I grab them and pull them on. Great, first time in a year and a half that I've been late. First time for everything right?
"Thanks," I say, giving him a hasty kiss before grabbing my sandals and running out the door.
I am now standing at my car, patting myself down for my keys. Nope. Not on me. I turn around and see Clark coming down the stairs, in his boxers. A little morning wood showing. He has my keys, though. Already he is proving to be a great boyfriend and we've only been dating for a day.
I accept the keys and give him another kiss, a more appropriate 'thank you' kiss this time. He waves to me as I start the car and pull out of the parking lot.
I smack my steering wheel and then immediately regret it. I speed all the way to my apartment, practically crashing into my neighbor's powder blue Prius as I zip into my parking spot. I sprint up the sidewalk and into my apartment, throwing on clothes and brushing my hair as I race through.
I look awful, but hopefully no one expects me to look perfect my first day back to work after my honeymoon. Except I didn't have a honeymoon. Because I didn't get married. Because my fiance left me at the altar. For my best friend.
Everything comes crashing in at that moment and I collapse on the couch, bawling. I am wasting my time. I should be at the accounting firm right now. Instead, I'm sitting here, a sobbing heap. I'm a mess. I'm a disaster in pink high heels on a purple plaid couch, with a very confused Siamese cat.
You would think that after a few weeks I would be okay with everything. You'd think the wounds would be healing and I'd be moving on with my life, instead of a sobbing mess all the time. Apparently I'm not a fast healer.
"This is getting a little ridiculous, don't you think?" says my inner voice.
I have lost all concept of time in this downward spiral. Snuggles meows, persistently, nuzzling my ankles. He is annoyed that I won't stop blubbering to pick him up. I don't blame him. I want someone to hold me too.
When I finally stop crying, its almost ten. I call work and tell them I'm not going to be able to come in. Luckily, my voice sounds awful since I've been crying, so I sound convincing.
I'm sure they think I am 'sick' from screaming during all the wild honeymoon sex I've been having. Or that I've been giving a lot of blowjobs. Or maybe they think it is an excuse to stay home and have more honeymoon sex. It doesn't matter either way. I have not been having copious amounts of newly married sex.
Since I'm not going to work, I strip down and put on some pajamas. Upon inspection, I discover my freezer is empty of a critical item. Ice cream. This isn't good. We have a code iceberg, the Titanic is going down. I need ice cream, right now.
I text Noah. When in need, always ask the best gay friend. He still hasn't texted me back after a few minutes. I stare at my phone, willing it to beep or chirp or something. After another moment it begins to chirp and I jump to answer it.
"Hello?" I croak, my throat hurts from sobbing.
"Are you okay? You sound awful!"
"No, I'm not okay. I have a code iceberg going on right now. Help me!" I flop onto the couch, apparently cuing the cat to jump onto my stomach.
"Code iceberg? Is that the one where your life is going up in flames?"
"No. That's SOS code Hindenburg, though I can see where you could confuse the two. Where are you right now?" I ask, petting a very happy Snuggles.
"A really cute guy's arms." I can hear him smiling through the phone.
"You are with someone?" I say, sitting up and almost knocking Snuggles off the couch. Noah hasn't been in a relationship for a while, so this is a bit of a shock. Especially with the lecture he just gave me yesterday.
"Let me call you back, Abe." I hear what sounds like a passionate kiss and then silence. I'm not sure if he has muted the phone or if he has hung up. I wait a moment and still don't hear anything. Then I hear a distinct click.
I guess this means I'm going to have to deal with this code iceberg all on my own.
Against my will, I begin to put on real clothes. If I felt worse than I do, I would probably not even care, but I still have a shred of dignity. It is while I am re-arranging myself into a more presentable fashion that I realize I don't have my purse. I must've left it at Clark's.
I plop down on the couch. Snuggles jumps up beside me and begins to rub against my arm. I prop my chin against my fist, like Rodin's Thinker, and decide that I should really go back to Clark's. I should really get my purse, because it is important to have my driver's license, blah, blah, freakin' blah.
Dutifully, I trudge out to my car. When I turn it on I hear a voice singing about not recognizing yourself. I glance up at myself in the rear-view. Just like the vocalist, I can't seem to recognize the girl staring back at me. I thought I knew her so well, once.
With a sigh, I start up my car and drive back over to Clark's. Its only been two days and I'm already forgetting things. I'm going to seem like a huge idiot. Not that I should worry about how I look, because the point is this relationship not lasting. However, I'm not going to break-up with a cute guy that I've only had sex with a few times after one day of dating. That is just silly.
Clark opens the door before I even knock. There is a brief moment where I have my hand, awkwardly, poised to knock without making contact with anything. I quickly drop it and smile. Clark smiles back and holds out my purse.
"I figured you would realize it was gone and come back this way."
Sheepishly, I take my purse and then stand there awkwardly wondering what to do next.
"Want to come in? Or do you have to rush right back to work?" He steps to the side and holds the door open for me.
I suddenly realize I don't want to say anything because my voice sounds like I swallowed fistfuls of glass from crying. But I can't just smile and leave without a word. That would be so weird. I smile and, meekly, go inside. He closes the door behind me.
"Are you okay? You are being very quiet." He looks kind of concerned. I smile and shake my head. I feel like the mermaid from Hans Christian Anderson's fairy tales right now. Ugh, I have to say something soon. I may implode.
"I'm fine." I squeak.
"You don't sound fine. Did you sound like that this morning?" As he talks he goes towards the kitchen and puts a tea kettle on the stove.
I sit down on his couch and mutter a mostly incoherent "No."
The next thing I know he is pressing a warm mug of tea into my hands.
"It's Moroccan, sweet and perfect for soothing a sore throat." He sits next to me and looks at me until I take a sip. It is pretty delicious. He is being so nice to me. I so don't deserve it.
"Thank you," I whisper, sipping my tea.
We sit in silence for a short time. Me sipping tea, him thumbing through a stack of what looks like reports on the impact of Latin on language as a whole. I find myself actually very interested in the subject. So much so that I sneak peeks every now and then. I eventually rest my head on his shoulder and he turns his head a little to kiss me.
Its such a simple thing. Its like we've been together for a while, rather than a couple days. It feels odd to me. Comfortable, but odd.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks, nonchalantly. He doesn't even glance up from his papers.
"I over-thought." I say.
There is another silence. I wonder, briefly, if he is annoyed with me for acting the way I have been.
"You can't allow him to have this control over you." He says, still not looking at me.
"I know."
He turns to look at me, with my head still resting on his shoulder. He kisses me and smiles.
"I promise not to preach," he says. "I just like you and don't want to see you hurt yourself."
I smile, reassuringly, and snuggle against him as he returns to grading papers. He is right, though. I can't allow David to control my life like he does. I can't let every little memory create a whole collapse of my life. I can't allow him to ruin my life every five minutes. I'd never get anything done. Its ridiculous to live like that. Even more ridiculous than the self-destructive path on which I am already set.
After a time, Clark cooks some lunch/dinner and we enjoy a quiet meal together. We converse, minimally, as if talking too much will break some kind of spell. Only disaster can follow too much conversation.
I help him do the dishes and we play a game of chess before I say goodbye. We kiss in the doorway and I drive home, calm and relaxed. I didn't need ice cream after all.
At home the cat meows hungrily at me. I feed him and stroke his silky fur before switching into some pajamas and snuggling up on the couch. I flip through the channels, trying to find something interesting to watch. I eventually settle on a program centered around a woman with too many children. However, it bores the hell out of me and I end up turning it off after fifteen minutes.
The cardinal clock on the wall says it is not late enough to go to bed. If I go to bed now I won't sleep very well and I'll end up pacing the floors at four in the morning, waiting for it to be time to get ready for work.
I glance over the books on my bookshelf and eventually settle for "Secondhand World" by Katherine Min. It is a favorite of mine, one that I've read many times, and I decide to make a cup of cocoa to go with it. While my cocoa is heating up I hear my phone begin to chirp.
I search all over for it before realizing it is in my pant's pocket in the bedroom. I run to grab it and catch it on it's last ring.
"Is code Iceberg still ongoing?" Noah sounds far too happy for my good.
"No. It has been defused by tender companionship." I say, settling back onto the couch with my cup of cocoa and my book.
"Tender companionship? From whom, dare I ask?"
"The new boyfriend." I reply, nonchalantly. I flip to the first chapter of my book and take a sip of my cocoa.
"I see. Decided to make it an official rebound relationship rather than just a rebound one or two night stand?" He sounds rather sarcastic. I don't approve.
"Might as well, right? I mean, its not like I don't have the rest of my life to have one or two night stands. Might as well have a rebound relationship or two while I'm at it. Makes me seem like less of a slut, don't you think?"
He is quiet. I don't say anything. I refuse to fill the silence, partially because it will only serve to make him more angry at me. Ah, the joys of the silent treatment.
After another moment of tense silence, I decide to say something. Anything to either get him to speak or hang up the phone.
"Are you still there?"
"I'm thinking." He says.
"Does it hurt?" I say, giggling.
"No." He snaps. "I think you are being an idiot, Abe."
"And I think I am too." This stuns him into another silence.
"Then why do it? What are you doing anyway?"
"I'm competing in the sex Olympics. Whoever has sex with the most partners, in the most positions, wins. I think I have a good shot at the silver this year, maybe gold if I work hard enough."
"You never take anything seriously!" He shouts. I jerk the phone away from my head before my eardrum bursts.
"It's complicated, darling. I can't explain it. It does no good for me to anyway. You will only yell at me some more and then continue to be mad at me. What if I told you that I genuinely like Clark? What if I said that it isn't just the sex or break-up songs? What if I said that I am not being self-destructive, I'm just experimenting? Would you believe me?" I sit my book on the end table alongside my cooling cocoa.
"No, I wouldn't believe you. Because I know you better than that. Just tell me what you hope to achieve with this scheme. You want to relate to break-up songs? There are plenty for this one relationship, without going out and finding more. You want to sleep around? I don't really blame you. You'd only ever been with David and I'm sure that your curiosity has reached its limit. But curiosity killed the cat. And you don't have nine lives to spare."
"I'm an adult, Noah. Believe it or not. I think I can make my own decisions. Regardless of the consequences."
"Yes, but can you live with those consequences?"
That is the elephant in the room, isn't it? I know I can make the decisions. I can be self-destructive. It is easy to spiral downward into the abyss of sexual self-destruction. Is it so easy to deal with the myriad of possible consequences that come with that spiral?
"I suppose that is something I'll just have to find out."
"I hope that you find out sooner, from small consequences, rather than later, from bigger ones. You know how to get a hold of me, if you need me." He sounds defeated, tired of the whole thing. To think, we haven't even started yet. And, as gracefully as an angry man can, he hangs up on me.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Love
I keep coming back to this one topic:
Love.
And the reason I keep coming back to it is because of how crazy it is. How crazy we are. How insane everything can be when Love is involved. And no, I'm not just writing this because I'm watching a Korean drama involving a complicated love. Though, it does help.
Once again, I'm going back to Homosexuality. Bisexuality. Transgendered. I'm going back to all the needless hate and stupidity and ignorance. I'm going back, because I just don't understand.
I, literally, cannot comprehend these prejudices. These hatreds.
I was raised a Christian. I believed that homosexuality, bisexuality, transgender were wrong. I believed for a long time that a man should not marry a man. A woman should not marry a woman. I believed that God created man and woman to be together and anything else is an abomination.
But when I was a child I also hid sexual feelings for other women. I was uncomfortable in my own skin and even seriously considered becoming a man, because I was not feminine. Newsflash, I'll never be "feminine."
The terrible thing is, when you are experiencing those feelings, you feel like you are letting God down. You feel like you are a monster because you feel a surge of attraction to someone of the same sex. Or when you imagine what it would be like to be a man and you are a woman. You imagine having sex with a woman, as a man, because then it wouldn't be wrong, right? Except it would because you were originally a woman and you changed what God intended.
Except we are all created in God's image. God doesn't make mistakes. Right?
But I'm in sin. I have sinned. Sinning is completely different. An all powerful, all knowing, God has no power over the choices you make. Except, doesn't he know everything before you do it? Why wouldn't he step in?
It was explained to me once, by my ex-step-father, that God is a "gentleman." He allows us to make our own decisions and what not, but doesn't meddle. Which is stupid. He is God. He interfered in human's lives from the very beginning. He destroyed the world with a flood because of the "sins" of the people. He demolished Sodom and Gomorrah because of their sin. Through out the Bible he is meddling.
But then you get into the downward spiral of "free will" and whether or not we have it.
I believe, if we are created in the image of God and God makes no mistakes, we are the way he created us. Which leads to a few messed up avenues, which we won't delve into tonight.
I was raised that we are to love the sinner and hate the sin.
I was raised in a family whose Homosexuality to Heterosexuality ratio was 1 in 3. I have two Uncles who are (were, as one of them has sadly passed on) homosexual and two Aunts that are (were, as one of them has also passed on) lesbians. I am bisexual, my brother is bisexual.
I was raised confused.
An all loving, all knowing, God hates. These feelings I am experiencing are wrong. They are a sin. I am doing everything wrong. I'm not being the obedient, submissive woman I should be. I am too opinionated. Too well-read. Too stubborn. I am trying to be in love with a God that hates me. Or does he distinguish between sin and sinner?
You can blame my feelings on being molested many times as a child/young adult. You can blame my feelings on sin. You can blame it on my discovery of pornography (of the Lesbian variety) as a young woman. You can blame it on what you want or do not.
But it doesn't change that I am who I am. I love who I love.
I have had sex with a woman and I enjoyed it. The feelings were pure. The desire to be together, physically, with someone that you are attracted to is perfectly normal. Unless its towards the same sex, in which case it is a hideous thing. It can't be love. It can't be anything but disgusting. Love isn't love if it is for someone of the same sex.
What God damns a heart?
What if, and bear with me here (Donnie, you aren't allowed to comment, because I already know your opinion on it). What if, the roles were reversed? What if it was heterosexuals who were the weird ones? What if being straight was abnormal? Would we still feel the same way? Would we still say that homosexuals don't deserve the same rights? Would it be different if it was the other way around?
I think I might write a story about that. About the possibilities of that kind of society. It isn't that strange. The Amazons were said to only be with a man to procreate and then they killed him. It was considered weak to be with a man. It was considered a betrayal. How different that must be.
Of course, in today's world the Amazons wouldn't have to even associate with a man. In today's world we don't even have to have sex to have a child. One can be created for us. One could be created with just a little sperm and a viable egg. No penis has to enter a vagina. No sexual intercourse has to be utilized to reproduce now.
Maybe I am rambling now. I just have so many thoughts running around in this head of mine that sometimes I lose track of where I was going with what.
All I know is that I don't understand it. If you wanted to get married and the law wouldn't let you, would you let that stand in your way? No. You would fight for it. If you desperately loved that person you would fight until your dying breath.
Don't people like my Aunt and her partner deserve to have a LEGAL marriage? They've been together longer than I've been alive. If anyone deserves to get married its her. Don't they deserve the same rights allotted to every other married couple? Its not like a piece of fucking paper is going to change their feelings for one another. But shouldn't they have the choice?
Divorce is high already. Without legal marriage for homosexuals. But Homosexuality is what is ruining the country. Ruining the world.
It doesn't matter that children in these households consistently do better in school. It doesn't matter that people like Pat Robertson are what is destroying this country. No. What matters is that some man is fucking another man. Heaven forbid they be in love with one another. Willingly giving themselves to each other and deeply in love.
Heaven forbid we love our neighbors as ourselves. That we give them the same basic rights as we would want to have. Because you know, that is just too damn easy to do. Its too easy to admit that its wrong to prevent a human being from having the rights that you want for yourself. Its too easy to admit, which is why we don't.
We refuse our brothers and sisters, our fathers and mothers, our sons and daughters, aunts and uncles, the basic human right to Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness because they happen to want someone of the same sex. We refuse for the same reasons we refused (and still do in some places) interracial marriage. Because it offends the senses of some hoity toity bitch or dick.
And we'll continue to hide behind false religion until we are eventually killed by it or true revolution is attained.
And the reason I keep coming back to it is because of how crazy it is. How crazy we are. How insane everything can be when Love is involved. And no, I'm not just writing this because I'm watching a Korean drama involving a complicated love. Though, it does help.
Once again, I'm going back to Homosexuality. Bisexuality. Transgendered. I'm going back to all the needless hate and stupidity and ignorance. I'm going back, because I just don't understand.
I, literally, cannot comprehend these prejudices. These hatreds.
I was raised a Christian. I believed that homosexuality, bisexuality, transgender were wrong. I believed for a long time that a man should not marry a man. A woman should not marry a woman. I believed that God created man and woman to be together and anything else is an abomination.
But when I was a child I also hid sexual feelings for other women. I was uncomfortable in my own skin and even seriously considered becoming a man, because I was not feminine. Newsflash, I'll never be "feminine."
The terrible thing is, when you are experiencing those feelings, you feel like you are letting God down. You feel like you are a monster because you feel a surge of attraction to someone of the same sex. Or when you imagine what it would be like to be a man and you are a woman. You imagine having sex with a woman, as a man, because then it wouldn't be wrong, right? Except it would because you were originally a woman and you changed what God intended.
Except we are all created in God's image. God doesn't make mistakes. Right?
But I'm in sin. I have sinned. Sinning is completely different. An all powerful, all knowing, God has no power over the choices you make. Except, doesn't he know everything before you do it? Why wouldn't he step in?
It was explained to me once, by my ex-step-father, that God is a "gentleman." He allows us to make our own decisions and what not, but doesn't meddle. Which is stupid. He is God. He interfered in human's lives from the very beginning. He destroyed the world with a flood because of the "sins" of the people. He demolished Sodom and Gomorrah because of their sin. Through out the Bible he is meddling.
But then you get into the downward spiral of "free will" and whether or not we have it.
I believe, if we are created in the image of God and God makes no mistakes, we are the way he created us. Which leads to a few messed up avenues, which we won't delve into tonight.
I was raised that we are to love the sinner and hate the sin.
I was raised in a family whose Homosexuality to Heterosexuality ratio was 1 in 3. I have two Uncles who are (were, as one of them has sadly passed on) homosexual and two Aunts that are (were, as one of them has also passed on) lesbians. I am bisexual, my brother is bisexual.
I was raised confused.
An all loving, all knowing, God hates. These feelings I am experiencing are wrong. They are a sin. I am doing everything wrong. I'm not being the obedient, submissive woman I should be. I am too opinionated. Too well-read. Too stubborn. I am trying to be in love with a God that hates me. Or does he distinguish between sin and sinner?
You can blame my feelings on being molested many times as a child/young adult. You can blame my feelings on sin. You can blame it on my discovery of pornography (of the Lesbian variety) as a young woman. You can blame it on what you want or do not.
But it doesn't change that I am who I am. I love who I love.
I have had sex with a woman and I enjoyed it. The feelings were pure. The desire to be together, physically, with someone that you are attracted to is perfectly normal. Unless its towards the same sex, in which case it is a hideous thing. It can't be love. It can't be anything but disgusting. Love isn't love if it is for someone of the same sex.
What God damns a heart?
What if, and bear with me here (Donnie, you aren't allowed to comment, because I already know your opinion on it). What if, the roles were reversed? What if it was heterosexuals who were the weird ones? What if being straight was abnormal? Would we still feel the same way? Would we still say that homosexuals don't deserve the same rights? Would it be different if it was the other way around?
I think I might write a story about that. About the possibilities of that kind of society. It isn't that strange. The Amazons were said to only be with a man to procreate and then they killed him. It was considered weak to be with a man. It was considered a betrayal. How different that must be.
Of course, in today's world the Amazons wouldn't have to even associate with a man. In today's world we don't even have to have sex to have a child. One can be created for us. One could be created with just a little sperm and a viable egg. No penis has to enter a vagina. No sexual intercourse has to be utilized to reproduce now.
Maybe I am rambling now. I just have so many thoughts running around in this head of mine that sometimes I lose track of where I was going with what.
All I know is that I don't understand it. If you wanted to get married and the law wouldn't let you, would you let that stand in your way? No. You would fight for it. If you desperately loved that person you would fight until your dying breath.
Don't people like my Aunt and her partner deserve to have a LEGAL marriage? They've been together longer than I've been alive. If anyone deserves to get married its her. Don't they deserve the same rights allotted to every other married couple? Its not like a piece of fucking paper is going to change their feelings for one another. But shouldn't they have the choice?
Divorce is high already. Without legal marriage for homosexuals. But Homosexuality is what is ruining the country. Ruining the world.
It doesn't matter that children in these households consistently do better in school. It doesn't matter that people like Pat Robertson are what is destroying this country. No. What matters is that some man is fucking another man. Heaven forbid they be in love with one another. Willingly giving themselves to each other and deeply in love.
Heaven forbid we love our neighbors as ourselves. That we give them the same basic rights as we would want to have. Because you know, that is just too damn easy to do. Its too easy to admit that its wrong to prevent a human being from having the rights that you want for yourself. Its too easy to admit, which is why we don't.
We refuse our brothers and sisters, our fathers and mothers, our sons and daughters, aunts and uncles, the basic human right to Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness because they happen to want someone of the same sex. We refuse for the same reasons we refused (and still do in some places) interracial marriage. Because it offends the senses of some hoity toity bitch or dick.
And we'll continue to hide behind false religion until we are eventually killed by it or true revolution is attained.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Lyrical Madness
I was listening to Maroon 5 (a band that I've liked for a really long time) and thinking about lyrics that I really like/identify with. And this song by them, I think has the most of them. I always think of one particular person when I hear these lyrics. That used to be painful. It still stings, but not like it used to. If that makes any sense.
The lyrics that make me think with this song are:
"Give me something to believe in, 'cause I don't believe in you anymore. Anymore. I wonder if it even makes a difference to try."
To me those are such powerful lyrics. Aren't we all searching for something to believe in? If you can't believe in someone that you love (or used to love) does it make a difference?
I read, once, that Hate is what happens when you have lost all belief/faith in someone. Now, that is not always true, but it is true quite often. Think about it, the people that you hate the most, did you used to love them? Did you used to believe in them, as if they were a God or a myth? I know that I have felt that way before.
This isn't my favorite song by Maroon 5, though I have many that I love by them. I just genuinely enjoy this particular song for the lyrics. And Adam Levine always livens up my mood. ;)
Makes Me Wonder - Maroon 5
The lyrics that make me think with this song are:
"Give me something to believe in, 'cause I don't believe in you anymore. Anymore. I wonder if it even makes a difference to try."
To me those are such powerful lyrics. Aren't we all searching for something to believe in? If you can't believe in someone that you love (or used to love) does it make a difference?
I read, once, that Hate is what happens when you have lost all belief/faith in someone. Now, that is not always true, but it is true quite often. Think about it, the people that you hate the most, did you used to love them? Did you used to believe in them, as if they were a God or a myth? I know that I have felt that way before.
This isn't my favorite song by Maroon 5, though I have many that I love by them. I just genuinely enjoy this particular song for the lyrics. And Adam Levine always livens up my mood. ;)
Makes Me Wonder - Maroon 5
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Starting Young
Little boy talking to his mom in the women's bathroom: Mommy my penis is really big!
Mom to little boy: That's not really something we talk about in public.
Little boy whispers: But Mommy, my penis is really big!
And all I could think was "they start bragging early these days..."
Mom to little boy: That's not really something we talk about in public.
Little boy whispers: But Mommy, my penis is really big!
And all I could think was "they start bragging early these days..."
Friday, January 06, 2012
Pineapple Soda
She says I need to let it go. There is no closure, no resolution. There is only pain.
And why do I put myself through such hideous agony?
Its because when I miss you I want pineapple soda.
Its because when I think about you my chest tightens.
Its because when I try to forget you, I know that I never can.
He says I need to stop torturing myself with memories. They lead no where.
The past is past. Why do I still let these things linger?
Its because when I miss you I listen to that song on repeat.
Its because when I think about you I lose track of time and tears.
Its because when I try to forgive you, I find I am the one in need of forgiveness.
They say I need to let it go. They say I need to let the past be past. Bi-gone eras be
bi-gone eras. Let everything remain a memory and lock it with the silver key of forgetting.
But I can't forget that you are now somebody that I used to know.
Somebody that I used to love, once upon a time.
And, when I miss you, I want pineapple soda.
And why do I put myself through such hideous agony?
Its because when I miss you I want pineapple soda.
Its because when I think about you my chest tightens.
Its because when I try to forget you, I know that I never can.
He says I need to stop torturing myself with memories. They lead no where.
The past is past. Why do I still let these things linger?
Its because when I miss you I listen to that song on repeat.
Its because when I think about you I lose track of time and tears.
Its because when I try to forgive you, I find I am the one in need of forgiveness.
They say I need to let it go. They say I need to let the past be past. Bi-gone eras be
bi-gone eras. Let everything remain a memory and lock it with the silver key of forgetting.
But I can't forget that you are now somebody that I used to know.
Somebody that I used to love, once upon a time.
And, when I miss you, I want pineapple soda.
Dear Dad,
Dear Dad,
I don't know what to say to you. I don't know where to begin or to end. Where do I even start? The beginning or the end?
Auntie says that I should forget you. That I am better off without you in my life. She says that you have done many horrible things, many awful things. She says I am better off without you. Maybe she is right.
My friends say that I should forget you. That I am better off without you in my life. That you are a druggie, a criminal. You are never going to change and what closure am I going to gain? What answer will I receive? Will reaching you give me any sense of peace? Will finding you give me any sense of closure? Or will it just bring me down further?
Am I using closure as a crutch, Dad? Do I need it to live? To move on?
Why do I even care anymore? Why do I bother? If you wanted to contact me you would, wouldn't you? You know where Auntie is, you could write her and ask her for my information. You could try. Does it mean that you don't care since you never ask about me? Or do you ask about me and she doesn't mention it because she is tired of me putting myself through all this?
Its my fault that you don't write anymore. That you haven't written in ten years. Nobody really knows that but me, so it is understandable that they can't comprehend why I try so hard to find you. And I need your forgiveness, Dad. I can live without the closure. I can live with you not caring about me anymore. But I need you to forgive me.
Forgive that thirteen year old girl who was trying desperately to recover from the loss of her grandmother. Forgive her for being hateful. Pardon her for hating you, at the time. She blamed you for Memere's death. But she was also hurting from promises that were broken as they were made. Forgive her for sending that hateful letter, so many years ago, saying she never wanted to talk to you again, because it was all your fault. Forgive her for falling prey to those horrible feelings building up in her chest.
Forgive me, Dad.
If I don't try to get your forgiveness, if I don't try to say I'm sorry, if I fail, I will never forgive myself. I can't live with myself, knowing that its my fault and that I didn't tell you I was sorry. Because I am sorry, Dad. I'm so sorry.
I miss you. I love you. I hate you. I wish you would give me some sign of something! Anything, really. I just want to know that sometimes you wonder about me. I just want to know that you can forgive my stupidity, that you still love me. Or feel some kind of emotion towards me.
And is that wrong? Is it wrong that I want this from you? I might receive some kind of closure, knowing I made the attempt. I tried. I worked hard, trying to fix it. Knowing it may never be fixed.
I've tried to cut you out of me. I've tried to drink you away. I've tried to lose you somewhere in my memories, far from me. I've tried everything I can think of to relieve this horrific guilt I feel for everything. I've been self-destructive and tried to rebuild. I've done things I'm not proud of, things I long to go back to, but I can't let myself. But in the end, you are a part of me.
You are in my smile, in my laugh. You are in my bloodstream, you are a part of me that I can never get rid of. No matter how hard I try. You are wired into me, just like our shared DNA. We are intrinsically entwined.
What do I do? Do I try to fix this? Do I let it go? Could I let it go?
Are you a crutch? Is this just a shameless cry for sympathy and attention?
I need some sort of resolution. What resolution do I expect? It has been ten years. Ten years and I can't forgive myself, or you. I can't let it go and I can't make it right.
So where does this leave us?
I don't know what to say to you. I don't know where to begin or to end. Where do I even start? The beginning or the end?
Auntie says that I should forget you. That I am better off without you in my life. She says that you have done many horrible things, many awful things. She says I am better off without you. Maybe she is right.
My friends say that I should forget you. That I am better off without you in my life. That you are a druggie, a criminal. You are never going to change and what closure am I going to gain? What answer will I receive? Will reaching you give me any sense of peace? Will finding you give me any sense of closure? Or will it just bring me down further?
Am I using closure as a crutch, Dad? Do I need it to live? To move on?
Why do I even care anymore? Why do I bother? If you wanted to contact me you would, wouldn't you? You know where Auntie is, you could write her and ask her for my information. You could try. Does it mean that you don't care since you never ask about me? Or do you ask about me and she doesn't mention it because she is tired of me putting myself through all this?
Its my fault that you don't write anymore. That you haven't written in ten years. Nobody really knows that but me, so it is understandable that they can't comprehend why I try so hard to find you. And I need your forgiveness, Dad. I can live without the closure. I can live with you not caring about me anymore. But I need you to forgive me.
Forgive that thirteen year old girl who was trying desperately to recover from the loss of her grandmother. Forgive her for being hateful. Pardon her for hating you, at the time. She blamed you for Memere's death. But she was also hurting from promises that were broken as they were made. Forgive her for sending that hateful letter, so many years ago, saying she never wanted to talk to you again, because it was all your fault. Forgive her for falling prey to those horrible feelings building up in her chest.
Forgive me, Dad.
If I don't try to get your forgiveness, if I don't try to say I'm sorry, if I fail, I will never forgive myself. I can't live with myself, knowing that its my fault and that I didn't tell you I was sorry. Because I am sorry, Dad. I'm so sorry.
I miss you. I love you. I hate you. I wish you would give me some sign of something! Anything, really. I just want to know that sometimes you wonder about me. I just want to know that you can forgive my stupidity, that you still love me. Or feel some kind of emotion towards me.
And is that wrong? Is it wrong that I want this from you? I might receive some kind of closure, knowing I made the attempt. I tried. I worked hard, trying to fix it. Knowing it may never be fixed.
I've tried to cut you out of me. I've tried to drink you away. I've tried to lose you somewhere in my memories, far from me. I've tried everything I can think of to relieve this horrific guilt I feel for everything. I've been self-destructive and tried to rebuild. I've done things I'm not proud of, things I long to go back to, but I can't let myself. But in the end, you are a part of me.
You are in my smile, in my laugh. You are in my bloodstream, you are a part of me that I can never get rid of. No matter how hard I try. You are wired into me, just like our shared DNA. We are intrinsically entwined.
What do I do? Do I try to fix this? Do I let it go? Could I let it go?
Are you a crutch? Is this just a shameless cry for sympathy and attention?
I need some sort of resolution. What resolution do I expect? It has been ten years. Ten years and I can't forgive myself, or you. I can't let it go and I can't make it right.
So where does this leave us?
Sunday, January 01, 2012
A Thousand Years
For the New Year, here is the first song I listened to in 2012. (And, if one person says anything about this being on the Twilight soundtrack, so help me God!)
A Thousand Years by Christina Perri.
A Thousand Years by Christina Perri.
A Dragon in the Year of the Dragon
Happy New Year Everyone!
As always, there are many regrets and sweet memories from the previous year and new resolutions for the new year. I have so many things I want to accomplish this year!
When I was younger, my friend, Kendra, and I made lists of all the firsts we did in the New Year. So here is a short list of firsts on this first day of the new year.
First Food eaten: Raspberry Mousse Whipped yogurt
First Drink (non-alcohol): Sam's Choice Cola
First Song: A Thousand Years by Christina Perri
First Phone call made: To my mother.
First kiss received: Exactly at midnight, from my wonderful husband!
First Website visited: Facebook
Super short, I know. What can I say? Its early enough! There is so much day ahead of me!
I also have a short list of resolutions:
- Be completely awesome forever (Thank you, Donnie)
- Finish writing "All of Her"
- Lose weight (always)
- New and Improved Reading Goals (which I'll expound upon in a moment)
- Focus on improving my writing
- Finally get into college!
- Get a new car
- Move (again)
- Spend more time with my sister
- Enjoy life.
New and Improved Reading Goals
All things considered, I actually did really well with my resolution to read more last year. I made it all the way to October before I completely gave up for no apparent reason. The reasoning was actually I was super busy and spaced it mostly. Though I did try to read. However, as Yoda says "Do or do not, there is no try."
The new reading goals are going to be divided by months. Each month will have specific goals to be met regarding reading. So bear with me!
January
- Read 1 book from my list.
- Read 1 book I haven't read in a while.
- Read 1 book I have had suggested to me.
Total: 3 books.
February
- Read 1 Sci-Fi novel.
- Read 1 Non-fiction.
- Read 1 Historical Fiction.
Total: 3 books.
March
- Read 2 books from my list.
- Read 1 book I haven't read in a while.
- Read 1 book that I randomly found at the library.
Total: 4 books.
April
- Read 2 books from my list.
- Read 1 book my sister suggests.
- Read 1 book my brother suggests.
Total: 4 books.
May
- Read 2 books from my list.
- Read 1 book that was turned into a movie.
- Read 1 book involving a topic I've never really explored before.
Total: 4 books.
June
- Read as many books as I want. This includes books I've already read.
Total: ?
July
- Read 2 books from my list.
- Read 1 book of Historical Non-fiction.
- Read 1 book of Historical fiction.
Total: 4 books.
August
- Read 1 book about someone I admire.
- Read 1 book that is a sequel to a book I loved.
- Read 1 book about an animal.
- Read 2 books from my list.
Total: 5 books.
September
- Read 1 book about something I would I like to do.
- Read 1 book written about someone I hate.
- Read 1 book that I found randomly.
- Read 2 books from my list.
Total: 5 books.
October
- Read 1 Romance Novel.
- Read 1 Fantasy Novel.
- Read 1 Children's Book.
- Read 2 books from my list.
Total: 5 books.
November
- Read 2 books from my list.
- Finish 1 book I haven't finished.
- Read 1 book by Ayn Rand.
- Read 1 play by Shakespeare.
Total: 5 books.
December
- Read 1 book about Holidays. Fiction or Non-fiction.
- Read 1 book written 100 years ago.
- Read 1 book by Dr. Seuss.
Total: 3 books.
Approximate Total for 2012: 45 books.
As always, there are many regrets and sweet memories from the previous year and new resolutions for the new year. I have so many things I want to accomplish this year!
When I was younger, my friend, Kendra, and I made lists of all the firsts we did in the New Year. So here is a short list of firsts on this first day of the new year.
First Food eaten: Raspberry Mousse Whipped yogurt
First Drink (non-alcohol): Sam's Choice Cola
First Song: A Thousand Years by Christina Perri
First Phone call made: To my mother.
First kiss received: Exactly at midnight, from my wonderful husband!
First Website visited: Facebook
Super short, I know. What can I say? Its early enough! There is so much day ahead of me!
I also have a short list of resolutions:
- Be completely awesome forever (Thank you, Donnie)
- Finish writing "All of Her"
- Lose weight (always)
- New and Improved Reading Goals (which I'll expound upon in a moment)
- Focus on improving my writing
- Finally get into college!
- Get a new car
- Move (again)
- Spend more time with my sister
- Enjoy life.
New and Improved Reading Goals
All things considered, I actually did really well with my resolution to read more last year. I made it all the way to October before I completely gave up for no apparent reason. The reasoning was actually I was super busy and spaced it mostly. Though I did try to read. However, as Yoda says "Do or do not, there is no try."
The new reading goals are going to be divided by months. Each month will have specific goals to be met regarding reading. So bear with me!
January
- Read 1 book from my list.
- Read 1 book I haven't read in a while.
- Read 1 book I have had suggested to me.
Total: 3 books.
February
- Read 1 Sci-Fi novel.
- Read 1 Non-fiction.
- Read 1 Historical Fiction.
Total: 3 books.
March
- Read 2 books from my list.
- Read 1 book I haven't read in a while.
- Read 1 book that I randomly found at the library.
Total: 4 books.
April
- Read 2 books from my list.
- Read 1 book my sister suggests.
- Read 1 book my brother suggests.
Total: 4 books.
May
- Read 2 books from my list.
- Read 1 book that was turned into a movie.
- Read 1 book involving a topic I've never really explored before.
Total: 4 books.
June
- Read as many books as I want. This includes books I've already read.
Total: ?
July
- Read 2 books from my list.
- Read 1 book of Historical Non-fiction.
- Read 1 book of Historical fiction.
Total: 4 books.
August
- Read 1 book about someone I admire.
- Read 1 book that is a sequel to a book I loved.
- Read 1 book about an animal.
- Read 2 books from my list.
Total: 5 books.
September
- Read 1 book about something I would I like to do.
- Read 1 book written about someone I hate.
- Read 1 book that I found randomly.
- Read 2 books from my list.
Total: 5 books.
October
- Read 1 Romance Novel.
- Read 1 Fantasy Novel.
- Read 1 Children's Book.
- Read 2 books from my list.
Total: 5 books.
November
- Read 2 books from my list.
- Finish 1 book I haven't finished.
- Read 1 book by Ayn Rand.
- Read 1 play by Shakespeare.
Total: 5 books.
December
- Read 1 book about Holidays. Fiction or Non-fiction.
- Read 1 book written 100 years ago.
- Read 1 book by Dr. Seuss.
Total: 3 books.
Approximate Total for 2012: 45 books.
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