Oh yeah, and in case I forget... the demon beast loves glasses.

Last night, she stole my glasses from off the computer desk and trotted over to the bed with them. I rescued them and replaced them.

She also tipped over a water glass that I had on my desk, which was about half-full. Fortunately, I was sitting right there. Unfortunately, as my apartment is filled with slanty floors, this caused a lake effect at the back of the desk, which I didn't immediately notice.

It only took her coming back soggy and me sticking my hand back there to realize, "hey, there are a few inches of water back here."

Go easy on me, it's been a rough few days.

Oh yeah, and her tipping over the glass isn't an isolated incident, either; she likes to tip over glasses that I leave on the floor by the couch. Partly it's investigation, partly it's just kitten playfulness. Either that, or demon spawnishness. Damn cat.

Another day of diseased lounging around the apartment, watching more Buffy than I care to admit and not showering until dinnertime.

So anyhow, I loaded up Launchcast for some random music fun while I did random things on the computer, and what starts playing?

"Hangin' Tough," by New Kids on the Block.

First, I plotzed.

And then I gibbered.

And then I died, happy.

Then I got up and had a shower.

I still know all the words, too. But that doesn't say much... I seem to be able to memorize music somewhat easily.

Anyhow... nice two days of snuggling with Thena and lounging around. She's been all cuddling and nice, for the most part. No one wants to go out to see a movie with me. :(

Oh yeah, and the reason that the New Kids got played on my station? 'Cause it was recommended by fans of Technotronic. Who remembers Technotronic? Oh yeah, that's where it was at back then, my friends... I remember buying their cassette because it was in a $3.00 bin, and I enjoyed it.

Yeah, that's right. I said it -- I enjoyed it.

Me and my crazy eclectic musical tastes have found someone else with similar ones, oddly enough. I'm impressed. :)

Anyhow, I'm also grody. Shower time.

Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh! Hangin' Tough!

Okay, I started this entry last week (the 22nd), so things might be dated. Live with it.

I also have a mondo cold right now, so if things don’t make sense, that’s why. Holy crap have I had so many typos just in that small amount of text already. I’m doomed.

To begin with, a treatise on power:

It’s been said by the coworker that I have issues with power, that I need to wield all of it in relationship situations.

The first part is true; the second is not.

I find that in the majority of relationships I’ve been in, I had over all, or almost all of the power to the guy I’m seeing. I tend not to take “ownership”of the relationship, or claim my own equal power in the relationship, or however you want to put it. Then I wind up getting frustrated or feeling used or confused, stressed, whatever... and it gets weird and confusing.

When UBFM and I started dating, I was 15 to his 21. He treated me like shit, undermined my confidence, repeatedly betrayed my trust and got me in the worst situation I’ve ever been in in my whole romantic life. He wasn’t the first person I opened up to and trusted, but we were together for three years – a relationship that destructive for that long, especially at that age, can really screw with a person.

I’m not going to itemize all my relationships, because I’ve done that before and it’s boring to you, plus I don’t want to sound like I’m trying to place blame on the guys I’ve dated. That’s not the case by far, and any “blame” I’d place would be on me, except in a few situations (such as UBFM and the coworker). Sure, the coworker would whine t you about how he loved me and so on, but honestly, if you really love someone that way, you treat them better at the very least. I never loved him, let’s be clear – and I never told him I did, either.

Anyhow... basically... I don’t know. I have no self-confidence when it comes to relationships and I’ve wound up in some situations that’ve worked to completely and totally undermine said confidence – which always fucks me up and makes me screwy(ier).

But, tangent. I have no direction to this, so I don’t even know if I’m telling it right.

I do know that after a relationship ends – when it’s not my choice – I don’t want that guy to know things about me anymore, because that gives them the opportunity to know things I might not want them to know... in other words, have power over me. This is why after J and I broke up, basically, my sex life no longer appeared on this site. Sure, you could try and read between the lines, and in some cases you might’ve been right, but in other circumstances, there were dates and sexy happenings and illicit rendez-vous that never graced your screens. Partly because I was trying to keep from hurting someone, and partly because I was trying to keep that information from someone else. Let them think I was living a dateless, sexless life – I, and select friends, knew otherwise. It’s not as exciting as that statement makes it sound, but nor is it as empty as some may think.

Anyhow, early on in a relationship – or even throughout some – I have various shields that are up. For example, with the pizza guy, I never completely relaxed. Same with the coworker.

By contrast, at least initially, with a few other ‘boyfriends’, those were down.

These shields constitute walls to protect information or feelings I may not want to share. Disgust at a particular habit or lack of something like personal hygiene, a sense of humour or personal ethics drastically different than mine, or a sense (or direct experience) that my personal feelings, concerns or what-have-you won’t be respected all factor into whether or not my shields are up. Especially when things that are important to me are repeatedly brushed aside or mocked by a particular individual.

As well, when I’ve been burned by someone, my shields are up and reinforced, no matter how much of a nice guy the new boy may seem or be. After all, if the last boy I dated was nice and yet burned me, how/why should I trust a new one?

Of course, I could just stop dating assholes and accept that sometimes even nice people hurt us. I don’t always consider myself nice (though goodness knows I could be a much worse person if my inner censor didn’t monitor my inner bitch so carefully), but I never set out to deliberately hurt anyone, and sometimes it still happens.

I don’t always share all of my thoughts and feelings with people because I never know what someone can or can’t handle hearing. It seems to change all the time, especially if someone is sensitive or having a bad day. I’m the same way.

I think I’m straying off-topic. Like I said, the hazards of free-form.

I want people to get to know me, but I can’t let them in if they can’t be prepared to accept that not all of me is sunshine and roses... or hell, if they can’t sit still long enough to listen and get to know me beyond what they perceive. I get crabby, I have bad days, I can be short (or very long) on patience or temper... sometimes I think things that aren’t very nice. I don’t think this makes me inhuman, but some people seem to think so – or at least act that way. As if they never have unkind thoughts or something.

At the same time, I like to hope that my friends know me well enough to know that I don’t say or do cruel things deliberately or intentionally. Unless I preface it with something like, “I hate saying this, but...” or “this is going to come out all wrong...” chances are what I said was simply very much misinterpreted or someone is having a sensitive/bad day and wants to blame me for being a bitch or insensitive instead of going, “I am having a sensitive/bad day because of lack of sleep/PMS/random other frustration unrelated to the current conversation. I will assume that Jen isn’t meaning to be hurtful with her remarks because I know her and so on.” I do this regularly if I’m having a sensitive/PMS day, deliberately not reacting to things if I don’t think I’d be overreacting because of hormones and so on.
Anyhow...as a consequence of being burned by relationships and friends, I’m often very reluctant to make myself vulnerable to people. This means that I let people tell me off and don’t stand up for myself; I don’t like to ask for things for myself, and I’m hesitant to reveal my thoughts on people – or when I do, if they differ from someone else’s thoughts, I’ll often temper mine so they’re more in line with theirs. Of course, after the way the coworker dumped all of his retarded shit on me, I’m often paranoid that I get my way too often, that I’m making to many of the decisions and so on and so forth. Hence the “power” battle rages on.

*sigh* I guess, more than power, I have issues with trust. I trust people right away – usually – but not completely. Or only certain levels of completely – those I trust with my feelings, or those I trust with personal secrets... mind you, I don’t think I have ever told anyone my fantasies, by they sexual, romantic or life-oriented. Well, for sure sexual. That’s a hard line to step over.

I’m getting better, I think. I had coffee with Mark last week and we talked and I shared my feelings for him and things that factored into our break-up, and it wasn’t near as hard as I thought it would be. Whether that’s personal growth or distance or just feeling like I don’t have a whole lot to lose, I don’t know.

Someone having power over you is scary. Someone having the ability to hurt you is pretty awful, especially if it’s awhile after your relationship has ended. I tend to feel for boys awhile after our relationship has ended (regardless of who ends it), so I once again give them power over me. I’d love to be able to just stop feeling sometimes, but I just don’t work that way. I guess this is why I don’t always reveal my feelings – because it’s one thing to admit to myself that person so-and-so can hurt me, but telling them that gives them the power to decide to either continue hurting me, making the decision to stop.

And once you’ve told someone they can hurt you, it’s pretty tough to convince them otherwise.

I wrote an awful lot more on this than I realized, and I’m still not sure if I’ve explained myself adequately. I don’t know if I can.

What I do know is that the last bundle of relationships/close calls have certainly helped frustrate me, and moved towards undermining my confidence.

Namely, what is so scary to guys about girlfriends? I mean, obviously the practice of having a girlfriend isn’t totally dead, because there are guys out there who have ‘em, but I think that must be a grandfather clause or something – aside from maybe Shawn or Ben, I don’t remember the last time I spoke to a guy who admitted he wanted a girlfriend.

Hell, it’s nearly impossible to find a guy who wants to date, for that matter. It seems as though guys right now only want to have casual, regular, no-strings sex. This pattern repeats across age lines, personality types, looks, and regardless of where I meet them or how I interact with them; i.e., unlike what a friend of mine suggested, it matters not what I discuss with these boys. I have received those “I just wanna fuck” proposals from all walks of boys, regardless of what I initially (or constantly) said or otherwise.

Am I perhaps trending towards boys who have had bad girlfriend experiences in the past and so therefore assume I will be the same psychotic, jealous, possessive, uncaring, cold fish evil demon that she was?

I like to think that I can be a good girlfriend on occasion. I like to make people I care about happy, I’m intelligent, clean, not butt-ugly, giving, cuddly, entertaining (sometimes in odd ways, but it works), open-minded, and all sorts of actual decent things like that... so what is it about me that boys see that turns them off? What is it about me that says, “Fuck me, but don’t date me?”

This sounds like a “poor me” message, but it really isn’t. I’m honestly trying to figure it out. In bars it seems I give off a PFO vibe, yet guys who talk to me seem to feel differently. They seem to think that I am asking/saying, PFM – please fuck me – BDDM – but don’t date me.

I used to have relationships all the time; I was never able to just date someone, he would become my boyfriend way too soon for that. Yet, now that I want to date and/or have a boyfriend, I’m buggered if I can find a guy who can bear my company long enough to learn about me beyond the colour of my underwear or the locations of my piercings (either of which aren’t a big deal to me, and I’ll tell ya if you ask).

I’m only ranting because this has been a patter of mine for awhile now. It’s changing now, maybe, but... regardless, it’s still frustrating. At times I feel I should somehow feel embarrassed or ashamed about wanting a boyfriend, but nuts to that. I wants what I wants.

I’m also wise enough to know that, despite past patterns, not every dating relationship should or will turn into a boyfriend relationship. I definitely don’t expect every boy I date to become a boyfriend, and I don’t want every boy to be a boyfriend. Sure, maybe I’ve encountered one or two I might, but life doesn’t work that way – especially not for me. Ah well, maybe celibacy really is the right way.

Beyond that... the last little while in review.

Saturday, March 13 – went out with Big A and a few of his friends for Big A’s birthday. After dinner we took him over to the peeler’s and got him a lap dance. Okay, he wound up with something like four by the time he finally left, but I’ve always known/suspected that he’s a dirty, dirty pervert. :)

We moved to pervert’s row at one point – lining the stage along one side. It made me realize how demeaning that row is, in a sense – you no longer see the dancer’s face because of the awkward angle... it’s all about their bodies. It’s fairly odd, but then again, a lot of the dancers show basically no expression, or they look almost bored. Not that I’m sitting around with a grin on my face when I’m working, but then again, I’m not an entertainer.

Anyhow, Sunday was spent trying to sleep in in stages, while Thena did her best to wake me up. I wasn’t hungover, but I did go to bed fairly tipsy (and late), so it wasn’t a lot of fun being awoken five hours after I’d gone to bed. Damn cat.

The rest of the week was fairly uneventful; I saw Starsky & Hutch Monday with one LL boy – the first one to kiss me, actually. Good movie, entertaining date for various reasons. It amuses me to know that some moves have hung around, how’s that?

What else happened last week? Well, I joined OFK and a few other friends for a round of RPG-fun. A few inappropriate thoughts, I did some knitting (and screwed it up a bit), and passed out, to some apparently mocking. In my defense, I’d been working from 6:30 a.m. – 4 or 4:30 p.m. most of the week, and I didn’t have time for my nap on Friday after work.

Why not? Well, Thursday I got fed up with waiting for my landlord to show up with traps, so I picked up a humane trap and set it up myself. By Friday afternoon I’d caught two of the little buggers, so Big A helped me move them to a new location, and I bought him lunch as a repayment.

Saturday night I caught another, as well as Sunday night, and I moved them both out on Monday. Then Tuesday night I caught another bugger and finally moved him out last night (Thursday night). I was afraid he was dead, because he didn’t seem to want to leave the trap, but I think he just decided he was cozy or something. Stupid smelly buggers. (No mice since, and apparently the traps my landlord set in the apartment beneath me haven’t caught anything in a week or so... of course, my landlord was supposed to bring *me* traps, but so much for him being helpful to me, right?)

Of course, he wasn’t as smelly as the others – it seems that if there is more than one mouse in the trap, they hold pee fights. The single mouse was the only one who didn’t come out soggy. Instead, he seemed to have replaced the peanut butter with some weird red, snow-texture substance... I didn’t examine it too closely.

While I didn’t kill of any mice, I did manage to kill off a fish. I’m a horrible mom.

But, I finally managed to remember to buy a squirt bottle yesterday, so Thena is getting the “fsht!” whenever she bites me. Well, most times. She also gets the standard time out, although that might not be best. Water bottles all around!

She’s so evil and so cute at the same time. Damn cat! Stefan loved her, though – maybe he should have her.

And now for random stuff to make this entry even more ridiculously long.

Two Saturdays ago I went over and hung out with Mark (and sorta Ben) for a few hours. Mark and I played some Pacman Vs. and I handed his ass to him a few times. And mocked him thoroughly. :)

Of course, my mocking was rewarded by physical abuse, including having my nipple pinched (after I did the same first, I’ll confess) and the throwing of breakfast hams back and forth (thoughtfully provided by Ben). I seem to recall getting hit in the face by one. Mark is mean – take note.

Anyhow, I had to run after a bit to return home – minding the cat, showering and so on. I went out and had some nice Indian and saw Tommy, which...well, the acting was really good, and the music was good, but as far as lyrics go, I was pretty disappointed. They basically consisted of 2-3 lines per song, sung different ways over and over again. I’m no expert on musicals, but that got annoying really quickly.

Anyhow, good evening overall.

Earlier in the week, I’d gotten together with Mark for coffee (on St. Patrick’s Day, actually), and we talked a bunch. I admitted some feelings and so on that I hadn’t discussed earlier, and he did the same. It was nice, and I felt good afterwards.

We then met up with Ben and a few other people, including one guy who ‘helped’ Mark after our breakup. We had some snacks, then some dinner, and I’m sorry, but I really don’t think Pho is my thing.

Mark got charged extra to get his packaged up to go, and the guy seemed disappointed with me or something for not doing the same – exactly how is it a selling point for me to take this soup with me – that I’ve already paid for, no less – if you’re going to charge me another $0.50 to do it? I don’t know, yeah, it’s only $0.50, but it’s still a weird policy, and certainly a new one on me. Pizza places always have deals on their take-out orders, and there’s a lot more involved in making a pizza than there is in tap water, noodles and big hunks of meat. Bah.

Anyhow, what else? I had a note about arguments, but I haven’t a clue what I wanted to write. Lately I’ve been dealing with the crazy mental horniness, though. Physically, I’m find, but mentally I’ve been craving crazy monkey sex, full of roughness and biting and nails and crazy locations because of not wanting to wait, being pushed up against the wall, being restrained and teased and touched and thrust and gasp and moan and clench and squeeze and pull and suck and hard and wet and throb and just being out of my mind and totally into the experience...

Yeah. Rough sex is fun. Sex is fun. I miss sex. Although sometimes I find I miss the idea of sex more than the reality – the reality is where pain hurts and your leg cramps and sometimes there’s disappointment and you just don’t get the same rush or even orgasm as you do when you imagine it. But isn’t half the fun just coming up with these things and then seeing how you can carry it out?

Okay, so maybe I have different ways of killing time during meetings or classes than some. It’s the same as when I’m reminiscing on a recent (or past) sex “event”; it’s not the awkward learning times, or the “this doesn’t feel good, when will it?” or “he’s wanting me to come and I might be able to if he’d just do this/shut up” that I focus on, but the times when it’s great... gloss over the rough spots and focus on the hot ones.

--

And that’s all I’d written up to that point. Maybe more later.

Nicely written, from Bash.org's top 100-200:

link :once upon a midnight dreary, while i pron surfed, weak and weary, over many a strange and spurious site of ' hot xxx galore'. While i clicked my fav'rite bookmark, suddenly there came a warning, and my heart was filled with mourning, mourning for my dear amour, " 'Tis not possible!", i muttered, " give me back my free hardcore!"..... quoth the server, 404.
hokage: *cries*, scary....

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Anyone who says the art of conversation is dead hasn't been privy to the kinds of witty repartee that transpires between Shawn and I (minor editing to remove the irrelevant parts):

Shawn says:
(Sorry - I was aye-eff-kay.)
Jen says:
that's ok, I just cried
Shawn says:
Why?
Shawn says:
Oh, because of me.
Shawn says:
Right, right.
Jen says:
From the abandonment. And the hurt. And the sad
Shawn says:
I love the "yayaayyaaa" shiznit.
Shawn says:
Well, you know how I am.
Shawn says:
I'm a man, babe.
Shawn says:
I belong to the road.
Jen says:
oh?
Shawn says:
You can't tie me down with babies and marriage!
Shawn says:
I got to keep moving on.
Jen says:
But the wee ones need you, Shawnie!
Shawn says:
*picks up a guitar/leather jacket*
Jen says:
They need to know their dad!
Jen says:
And... and... *I* need you! *sob, sob*
Shawn says:
*pats you on the head* Don worry, l'il lady, I'm sure after Uncle Jimmy gets better from the operation, you'll have a chance to live out your there dream of bein' in pictures!
Jen says:
In the meantime, I'll have to keep dancing nights at the Ladies' Club... At least while the kids are small, I can keep them locked in the bathroom so they stay out of trouble
Shawn says:
*laugh* Nothing could possibly gro wrong...
Jen says:
Well, that is where I store the bleach and rat poison and industrial-strength cleaning agents, but aside from that, nothing

---
And that's without this morning's discussion of how showing flesh is the only way girls can get ahead in government. Well, that or sleeping with your employers. :)

Curse you government firewalls, for blocking my access to game sites and other ways of wasting time!

I'm actually writing a speech right now, it's just that I have a certain process when I write. Namely, I write for a stretch, then I take a break. Then I write some more, then I distract myself. Sure, it slows me down, but it works for me, and people like to claim I write well, so... don't knock it. :)

I also don't have my traditional writing meal of Coke and microwave popcorn (although I did have the Coke), so I'm all screwed up. Writing at work is much different than writing in my own private little corner at home. Mind you, I no longer have any private corners now that I have the demon spawn; she loves to sprawl on the tiny amount of computer desk I have available between my monitor and the edge of the desk. Since she's still small, this approach works for her, but it usually also involves feet dangling off the edge and onto my keyboard, whereby she provides such valuable contributions to my conversations or updates as "+60000" or "i666666666666666666666666" or my personal favourite, "ffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff." Granted, not all of her commentary centers around numerical contributions, but without any real examples in front of me, I can't properly demonstrate the depth and scope of her efforts.

As well, she's quite fond of standing on whatever key makes the computer scream, hitting F11 to make my IE window fill the screen, or hiding under the top of the desk on the keyboard tray and ensuring my mouse isn't harming humanity. Sometimes, when she's exhausted from standing in front of the screen and pawing at it or riding our little world of the threat that is the mouse cable, she gives up and goes to sleep on my keyboard. I think this is her way of sending me a message. It's tough to decipher, seeing as how my ability to speak kitten is fairly rusty, but I think it's something akin to, "Get the fuck off the computer already." The dialect varies from kitten to kitten, but I think I have the translation fairly accurate.

I screwed up when it came to setting my alarm last night; I set the wrong one, which was still on last week's crazy-ass-hours time, so it went off at 5 a.m. Because I'm insanely stupid when I first wake up, I turned off my real alarm first, which meant that in the end, I overslept somewhat -- just 15 minutes, and since I no longer rush out of the house (quite the opposite, really), there was no harm gained. Of course, the fun part was that since I was up, Thena was also up, and so there was much cuddling to be had at 5 a.m. Then there was biting and a squirt gun (which, when I woke up again later, I was still brandishing, which is probably what kept me safe through the remaining hour or so of my sleep), and more sleeping, and then more cuddling, then a waking up moment just around 6 (the damn cat has me trained to wake up at that hour, now!), whereby in my non-glasses, just-woke-up-holy-God-I'm-stupid state, I read the clock as first 10:11, then 2 something, then finally 6-something, its correct time... and then there was more resting and lazing and some more cuddling and probably some more biting in there, too.

Thena has learned that Mom's soft underarms make for good nipping places. Damn cat. Of course, she's also learned that she's just not that keen on getting squirt-gunned, so this is a battle that may yet be won. Mind you, in last night's efforts to wear her out by playing ball, she bit me twice on the wrist, once right across a vein, which was a weird injury to look at. There just seems to me to be something wrong about having a scratch on one of your veins. Of course, she might have just been getting me back for laughing when she did her run up to attack -- what can I say? She's a roly-poly little kitten and she looks hilarious when she's doing her running attack... especially when the fierce paws fly up to tap.

As always, I have to remind myself that even though she's been bumming around the apartment for a month and a half, she's still just a baby at a big 12 weeks old. She's getting bigger though, obviously, and she's getting around more. She can now jump in the tub usually with just one leap (sometimes it takes two or three), and she's even figured out how to get up on the windowsill (I showed her once, now she knows it's there). She also likes to climb up in my wok and chew on its edges, but I'm going to put that one down to just plain ol' kitten contrariness.

Needless to say, I'm finding that it might be a good idea to be in a new place before she's spayed; she definitely seems to be growing into this space and I'm finding that it might be nice to have more room for her to run about and play. Fortunately, she seems to avoid the doors and escape attempts, at least for now; I think the fact that I live right on a moderately-busy street keeps her from wanting to run out. It's loud and scary outside. She's only once made an escape attempt, and it was the last time I brought someone new over; kinda weird, but I'm glad I was able to catch her.

Anyhow, how's this for an impromptu update? See how I distract myself when no one will talk to me? Ah well, I like what I've written. It's Friday, I'm going out again tonight and life is good. Of course, I will pay for it in an crazed kitten when I finally get home, but tomorrow is going to be another Thena day, and Sunday won't. I feel bad about that. Mean OFK, planning things on Sunday when I'm already at work. Maybe I can bring her over? Hehehe. :)

Ah well... tomorrow, she goes to the vet, and then maybe she'll be semi-stressed and so on, so she'll be calm for a day or two. That's usually how it goes. After that, no more vet appointments until she's in to be spayed. Woohoo, no more girl parts after that.

Man, am I feeling wonky. Is it bad to notice that your friends have *really* hot brothers? Like, *really* hot? No more dating your friends' siblings. My brain is just all over the place. :P I have a huge entry mostly written up in my notebook, so that'll appear later. It's the day of writing! You know you're all killing time at work, anyhow. Don't lie.

Oh yeah, and I'm wearing *makeup* today. I do this occasionally, now that I fancy up the hair. Man, being pretty is hard work. :P

Man, Dear Abby was feeling snotty on Wednesday (edited a little, but the bulk is there):

DEAR ABBY: I'm a senior in high school. Until recently no guy I've ever liked has been interested in me. One guy I've liked for a few years -- "Marty" -- finally asked me for a date. It's a problem because my friend "Lori" has liked him a lot longer than I have.
Lori doesn't know it, but Marty told my other friend that even though they've hung out together a few times, he's not interested in her. Lori thinks I'm stealing Marty from her, but I'm not. I don't feel I'm stealing anybody, and I'm so excited. Am I wrong for wanting to go?

I think Lori is blowing this whole thing out of proportion. Does she have the right to be jealous? Shouldn't she be happy for me? I wasn't jealous when she hung out with him -- I supported her. But somehow, I can't help thinking I've betrayed her.

Abby, am I a horrible friend? -- CONFUSED IN OREGON

DEAR CONFUSED: No, but as it stands, you are an ex-friend. I hope he's worth it.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
DEAR ABBY: My boyfriend, "Justin," and I have been together for a little more than a year. We both work two jobs to support ourselves and make ends meet. I have student loans to pay off and so does Justin.
Abby, my birth control costs me $30 every three months, and sometimes it's difficult to find the extra money to pay for it. We have both agreed that having children right now would not be in our best interests.

Would it be too crass to ask Justin to help pay the cost? -- WONDERING IN VERMONT

DEAR WONDERING: Crass? Not at all. Since the birth control is benefiting both of you, he should share the cost. Put it this way: Tell him it's time to pony up because of economic hardship. From my perspective, he's been getting a free ride for too long.

I love when strangers assess my character: :)

he says:
So have you met any more interesting people
she says:
Not yet, but I'm supposed to meet someone tonight, so we'll see how that goes
he says:
Is he cute?
she says:
Seems to be from his photo
he says:
is he interesting
she says:
Yeah, seems to be
he says:
is he your type
she:
*shrug* hard to tell.
he says:
hmm is he single?
she says:
Yup
he says:
i think you will have fun
she says:
*laugh* Well, at least you've predicted it for me
he says:
low expectations....high degree of satisfaction
she says:
Not always
he says:
your a bit of a realist heh!
she says:
Yep, very much so
he says:
to be honest.....i am still not convinced you wouldnt like a sporty dyke then a sporty guy
she says:
What gives off that impression?
he says:
you just seem open , flexible in terms of relationships and sexuality and i wonder if you could find a guy who could keep up.....maybe in a big city but in conservative ottawa i wonder
she says:
I've found one or two in the past. What makes you think a woman would be able to keep up?
he says:
i find when it comes to sex and relationships bi-flexible woman have the easiest time well being flexible
she says:
Somehow that makes sense
he says:
plus your no ones bimbo
he says:
actually i think i have found the solution....you need to date two people!
she says:
I've done that before
he says:
how did it go
she says:
*shrug* It was okay. The boys seemed to have more trouble with it than I did
he says:
that doesnt surprise me
she says:
Well, I had it a bit easier because they weren't dating other girls
he says:
ya
he says:
maybe date a guy and a girl
she says:
I'll see what I can do


See? Even strangers think I should go after girls!

Stolen from Meghan:






*HUGS* TOTAL!
give eiram more *HUGS*

Get hugs of your own



But you should anyway, 'cause I give good hugs and Dr. Seuss died last night. Now I only have Stinky and Stick.

My friends are perverts, and it's funny. ;)

Secondly, if the boy doesn't take the ticket on Friday, does anyone want to see the Mikado with me? I might not even make you pay for your own ticket. :) If you're interested, let me know, and I should know somewhat soon as to whether or not it's actually up for grabs.

Aside from that, working on a huge post to update about the last week, including a discussion of a few of my issues (fun!), but that's still in the works.

Fuck me, the Muppets is funny shit:

Doc: How do you do, I'm Doc.
Bert: Did you know that Doc starts with the letter "D?"
Doc: Yes.
Ernie: Yes! Yes starts with the letter "Y"
Doc: True.
Ernie: And true starts with the letter "T"
Doc: What is all this?
Bert: Where we come from, this is small talk.

And

Doc: That's one worried frog.
Count: That's ONE! One worried frog!
Robin: Well, he's not the only one.
Count: That's TWO! Two worried frogs! Ha ha ha ha!

And

Kermit: What's wrong with the drummer? He looks a little crazed.
Dr. Teeth: Oh, he's just upset about missing the Monet exhibit at the National Gallery.
Animal: RENOIR. RENOIR.

Why is it there are some people I simply can't seem to put behind me? Why do I still want them to think nice things about me, or care about me in some way, or even just think of me fondly ("when we've said goodbye.... remember me, once in awhile, please promise me you'll try...")

Life would be so much easier if it went by my idea -- as soon as you breakup with someone, that other person disappears. Okay, so there are some major flaws with this plan, but nonetheless... it's an idea. And I like it.

Hrm. Either they disappear, or you just stop feeling things for them, how's that? They become like any other of your friends, and you're just neutral towards them. Maybe that would work better. Stupid residual feelings.

*grin* That's right, read it and weep:

You Are 100% Virgin!

Well, well, well. Look who's little Miss Perfect. You're pure and proud of it.

My advice? Grab yourself the first man that walks past you and bang him like you've never dreamt you could.

You are what people like to call, "the holiest of holes" - although in your fantasies, you are the world's naughtiest girl!

When you finally have sex, you'll be great at role playing, foreplay, and oral.



What Do Girls Whisper Behind Your Back? Virgin or Whore Quiz Tells All!

More Great Quizzes from Quiz Diva

And I promise you, I didn't try to skew my answers.

Clear yourselves an hour or six, I've finally fucking updated.

Man, I just had a flash of wanting really rough, uncontrolled sex. That'll throw you off your step at 9 in the morning.

I'm thinking I really ought to set up a calendar somewhere with a series of coded markings, demonstrating when I get action of any sort. I think this will help prove to all and sundry that I'm not getting laid anywhere near as much as people seem to assume. Do you think maybe, just maybe then people will leave me the fuck alone?

Why do people feel the need to tell strangers about me and my fictitious sex life? Big A told me at his birthday celebration that not only does one of his friends still bear a grudge against me (why? Because A dared to befriend me and have a female friend other than her), but the asshole from the summer, R, was telling one of his housemates exaggerated stories of what goes on in my sex life.

Uh, excuse me? In a bad year, I speak to R once, and even then, not really -- I don't feel the need to address any comments towards him, so whatever he 'knows' about my life either stems from here (and as anyone in my life can tell you, this site represents about 5% of what's happening in it at any given moment), or from what his deluded little mind has made up for itself about what shenanigans I get up to.

Christ, sometimes I wish I had half the sex life people seem to think I do -- of course, it'd also be nice to meet all of these guys I'm apparently fucking, just so I can at least assign a face or a name to the act we supposedly did.

Not to mention how exhausting it is always having someone or another assuming that a particular mood of mine can be attributed to the absence or presence of a man in my life. Guess what, my friends? I've had plenty more bad sex than good, so if I'm feeling mellow or otherwise pleased, the odds of it being because of a guy aren't particularly favourable.

Oh yeah, and when I code that calendar, I think I'll include in it how often I get myself off (or "masturbate," if you will). This will help demonstrate how uncommon of an occurance it is, as well as how completely unrelated it is to my moods and their fluctuation.

People piss me off a hell of a lot more and a hell of a lot more often than sex soothes me.

And I'm sure someone, somewhere reading this is thinking, "Fuck, this chick needs to get laid, badly!" And you know what? I really don't. I don't miss sex right now, I haven't been horny in I can't think of how long, and I'm of the half-serious opinion right now that one more heartbreak and I'm just giving up on the whole Y-chromosomed lot of you. It'll either be a vow of celibacy or a vow of lesbianism, I'm undecided at this point.

*sigh* I was going to write a long update about my weekend and what transpired during it, but right now... I don't know. I'm just pissed at people right now, and half-seriously thinking that my list of males with whom I want to associate is very very limited at the moment. Maybe my dad grandfathers and about five male friends with whom I've never had sex and never will. Everyone else can just about hang right now.

Oh yeah, and my apartment has mice. I'm definitely not staying past the end of my lease.

So good I had to post it twice:


Which Family Guy character are you?


I'm not sure if there's someone else I would've preferred... maybe I'll keep playing until I get Quagmire, or Stewie. :)

Note to self: Stop putting yourself in situations where you wind up feeling used afterwards.

Thena likes to steal the plug for the bathtub and run around with it. I found it in my kitchen area today.

Updates on the weekend to come.

An article for Whore's Boudoir will be finished after tomorrow night's excursion. Research, you know.

There was also a great deal of harrassment going on tonight between one of my coworkers and I. Good times, good times -- good for the ego, too. My new haircut is nice, although I wish I could style it. :P

It looks as though I'll be taking in Ryan's kitten, partly in an effort to socialize Thena. On the one hand, I wish she and I could just come to an agreement whereby she stops gnawing on me and I stop disliking her when she gnaws on me, but at the same time, I think the company during the day would be good for her. I guess I'm a little worried that Thena would be jealous, or that I wouldn't pay enough attention to the new kitten... but then again, I've done cat transitions before, and I always have worries like this. I'm just a big loser.

However, I do know that in some small way, Thena loves me. Right now she's busy ensuring that the dot of paint on the wall beside my bed is well and truly threatened and abused, and shouldn't cause any problems for me when I sleep. She's a good attack cat. Too bad her attacking isn't limited to the bathmat, my laundry and the paint on the wall... and unlike the inanimate objects, I have the marks to show for her efforts. :P

It's always nice to see people with a sense of humour. Read the various ticker tapes, they're funny. :)

Holy crap.

Anyhow, for those of you who've been silently telling me to do this for ages, I moved the litterbox out of my bedroom last night and shut the kitten out when she woke me up just before 1 a.m. You may rejoice.

This meant that I got a relatively full night's sleep and feel marginally less tired this morning than I did yesterday. I still feel pretty zonked, as it would appear I am coming down with another random illness (make the bad man stop!), but with any luck enough sleep and crazy amounts of drugs will help to destroy this one before it completely manifests itself.

As well, I did a spin class yesterday. It was just an intro class, about 40 minutes long -- 15 of which were spent getting us all ready, on the bikes and familiar with the different positions -- but it was still hard work. The teacher said I had perfect form in one of the positions, though, so that was cool. Cookie for me. :)

I had a meeting yesterday right at the end of my day, and it seemed to be worlds removed from what I was expecting it to be about. Fortunately one of my coworkers was there and was much more alert than I, so with any luck he actually picked up on the myriad of details that passed me by as I fought (fairly unsuccessfully) to stay awake. I hate my body and brain sometimes. :P

So much for getting in at a decent hour today. *sigh* If I hurry, I should get in before 8:30, I think. I'll post later about my shower problems and so on, 'cause I know you're all dying to hear about them. :)

Do you ever have one of those nights where you're having a really good conversation, good food, good times and you're thinking to yourself, "Boy, this is really nice, but I really want to peel off my bra and just give my boobs a real good scratch?"

Oh yeah, it's fun in my head, it is. :)

In other news, I've discovered one way to make Thena stop attacking my hands is to give her a bath -- then she wants to be snuggled while she washes herself. Kinda sweet, really.

I was looking through my pictures of Thena today, when I came across this:



This is proof.

Last night, someone called me at 3 a.m. I don't know who this person is, and they didn't leave a message. I'm tempted to return the favour tonight at the same hour.

I also had a dream involving a guy I went to elementary school with named Phil, and I dreamt that he looked the exact same and was interested in me. My mom didn't want me to date him, although I forget her reasons -- I think she just felt he wasn't right for me.

Later I wound up married to Steve Martin for some reason, and in my dream, of his 8 or 9 kids, 4 of them were cast members from That 70s Show, and three of his kids were being really stupid. Two of those three had STDs and all three were really promiscuous.

A few of us wound up on the cover of TV Guide, but I don't remember thinking that we were in a television show.

There was also something in there about Alexis Denisof (Wesley on Buffy and Angel, married to Alyson Hannigan), but I don't remember particulars.

Thena, the kitten, woke me up a few times, alternately wanting to love or attack. I think she's mad that I wouldn't cuddle her at 2 in the morning, so she's all aggressive this morning, instead of her usual cuddly morphing into aggressive. Evil cat.

I just don't feel like moving this morning. I went to bed early last night, managed to fall asleep at a decent hour, then all of that was going on. Maybe I should just lock her out of the bedroom at night. But she's not *always* bad... *sigh*

Someone else want to live my life for me for awhile?

At least I have my doctor's appointment on Friday and can hopefully get some of my other body stupidities figured out. And I'm going out a couple of times this week, so that's cool. I hope. :)

You know, I typically pride myself on thinking that I have a decent idea of what's going on in the world of relationships and so on.

Then, when it comes to my own life, I haven't the faintest. That's okay, I'm used to that.

But then... I talk it over with a friend or two, and I get a perspective on the whole situation that I might not have otherwise thought of, and it makes sense and is perhaps more mentally nice than the one I had.

What can I say? I know some smart people -- even if they, too sometimes need a different perspective for their own lives and things. But that's what friends are for, corny and hokey as that sounds.

This is my roundabout way of trying to say that my friend Ben is good people. :)

Not to say that my other friends aren't, but today is a props to Ben kind of day, 'cause he manages to show me things that I should see, or I should know, but for whatever reason or another I don't. It's nice, and greatly appreciated.

Thanks dude. :)

Okay, so Mozilla is annoying me because all of a sudden, after an MSN crash, my profile disappeared, and along with it all of my bookmarks and tabs. This is why I hate using Mozilla -- it does incredibly stupid, inexplicable shit on my computer on a regular basis. This isn't the first time something stupid has started happening without warning or real provocation.

*sigh* My kitten is getting more aggressive than I like. I woke up this morning at 8 to her pouncing on my hands and things. So I fed her, hoping that would keep her away for awhile... and it did. About five minutes. Then she was back to gnawing on my hands, feet and arms, stalking me and pouncing on my face, and generally being an absolute pain in the ass. I've trying loud noises, I've trying blowing in her face, I've tried giving her a time out, I've tried putting her away from me... nothing. She doesn't scare easily now, partly I think because I tried to make her feel comfortable when I first got her, and now she's turbo pest.

I think today I'm off to buy a water bottle, and we'll see if that works. Research says she's supposed to grow out of this phase by about 10 weeks, but that's still a ways away... it's gotten so that now I'll kinda gently lob her away from me -- either tossing her onto the bed if I'm at the computer or even just whipping my leg a little more violently than I might've before to try to discourage her. For now, that seems to be having some effect, albeit quite minor. She's a confident little shit.

Maybe I should've named her something non-aggressive, like Daisy or Muffin. :P

And of course, because I was writing about her being a shit and stuff, now she's settled in my hand and is being sweet. Damn manipulative cat.

She's also a thief. I typically remove my jewelry for the day while I'm seated at my computer, and I'll leave it on my desk. I've been trying to stop that habit since I've gotten her, what with the not wanting her to steal my jewelry or choke on it when I'm not around. Well, the other day she kept going after this beaded necklace I had on the desk. I took it, put it under some stuff, and thought the problem was more or less resolved.

Then, when I went to bed, I laid down on my stomach and put my hands under my pillow... to find my necklace. At least I know where she keeps her stash, right? She was also trying to nab rings at some point, but I foiled that plot.

And finally, I found where she'd stashed a few of her toys. Well, I can't find all of them, since I personally have a harder time getting under my student desk or my nighttable than she might -- she who still can stuff herself into my keyboard tray -- but this too will soon pass.

I went and saw Cats last night with my mom and had a really good time. I'm glad she went with me, 'cause I'm not sure that I would've gone alone and then I would've missed out. Of course, I didn't know that Ben wanted to see it, 'cause I didn't even think to ask him about it, but live and learn. :)

I remember in grade 7 we had to do a recitation in front of the class. I chose T.S. Eliot's "The Naming of Cats," partly because I liked it and I already had it 99% memorized from listening to the music. When I stood in front of the class, this girl Catherine that I was friends with (who later hated me because a boy she'd been madly in love with for ages liked me and not her) mouthed the words along with me, which really annoyed me. I later mentioned it to her and she completely denied doing it -- despite her grinning madly and covering up her mouth when I looked at her doing it when I stood up there.

I'm also going to see the Mikado at the end of the month with Big A, which should be fun. Yes, I confess -- I like musicals. :)

In other news, for those that don't already know, I went and put another hole in my body a few weeks back. As always, I want it to hurry up and be healed, but I think it's doing okay. It's been awhile since I've had to heal something non-cartilage, so it's better and different in ways I can't explain unless you, too, have healed many piercings.

My trainer and I did work with a Bosu ball the other day; it's like half an exercise ball with a plastic base, and it's for strengthening your core and stuff. The pushups I did with it were both easier and harder, but it was the sitting on it and doing yoga poses that was hardcore ab workouts. She said we're going to start doing 15 minutes of this person session (essentially my ab workouts), so soon I should have rock-hard abs!

Okay, that's a lie. But it will come that my pants will be falling off of me even worse than they do now. :) Mind you, it's weird -- they're snug in the legs still, but looser in the waist/hips. It's a nice feeling, I guess... just wish it looked more obvious. But my trainer says I'm getting a nice solid look to me, and I can tell in some areas that I am.

Ah well... I was thinking of writing a spiel here about how I all-too-often let ex-boyfriends treat me like shit, but I don't feel like going into it. I'm really hungry, and I want to spoil myself, so I think I might make pancakes.

Then again, I'm feeling lazy, so English muffins it is.

Wow.

Just... holy shit.

I don't remember the last time my heart has pounded that hard, or that something has come out of left field like that that made me want to cry.

I'm sorry. I'm really so very very sorry. I honestly do wish I could go back and fix it and do things over again. Sometimes I think that if we were to go again, I would be happy and maybe I could make you happy.

I'm sorry.

I didn't know... I just wish that we could sit down and figure it out. But... we can't. Not with you feeling the way you do. And that makes me want to cry.

Shawn shared this with me, from Gord who shared it with him, and now I share it with you. I like reading things by people who don't have their heads shoved up their asses.

Time for you to have some fun.

First, there is this article, but for the purposes of the funny, it's this page.

Then, there is this hiliarity. Man, I wish I could be just a fraction as funny as some people.

Okay, so, it's all Shawn's fault that I'm now into Launchcast. So, I have a whole bunch of artists and so on in my playlist, and one of them is The Smiths, whom I've never heard before. Apparently, I suck.

However, I got to hear this song, and it was all wonderful and funny and good. Not enough artists use flatulence in their songs:

Frankly, Mr Shankly, this position I've held
it pays my way and it corrodes my soul
I want to leave you will not miss me
I want to go down in musical history

Frankly, Mr Shankly, I'm a sickening wreck
I've got the 21st century breathing down my neck
I must move fast, you understand me
I want to go down in celluloid history Mr Shankly

Fame, fame, fatal fame
it can play hideous tricks on the brain
but still I rather be famous
than righteous or holy, any day, any day, any day

But sometimes I'd feel more fulfilled
making Christmas cards with the mentally ill
I want to live and I want to love
I want to catch something that I might be ashamed of

Frankly, Mr Shankly, this position I've held
it pays my way and it corrodes my soul
oh, I didn't realise that you wrote poetry
I didn't realise you wrote such bloody awful poetry Mr Shankly

Frankly, Mr Shankly, since you ask
you are a flatulent pain the arse
I do not mean to be so rude
but still, I must speak frankly, Mr Shankly, give us money


Also, I still want that shirt. Someone love me? :)

I want this shirt. Who loves me enough to buy it? I'll send you dirty pictures of Jay's boobie if you do! :)

*sigh*

Why do I tell lies?

Okay, so it's to protect people and sometimes cover up the fact that something I do or say doesn't make me look so good, but...

I don't know. I guess it's not the worst thing I could've done in this case. There are extenuating circumstances, right? Right.

Emailing my dad is fun:

Original email:
Actually Dad, do you have Dorothy's email address?

Thanks,
jen


Him:
>>> "Dad" 03/02/04 09:59AM >>>
What's with the "actually?"

Anyway, for Dorothy, I have two addresses -- home is
"myaunt@family.com" and work should be
"myauntatwork@family.com". I am not 100% on the work address, as I
know it changed a while back, but I am pretty that's the new one.

D.


My reply:
Because I was going to put it off, but this way I get to do some
machinations and/or coordinations from now. :)

I write emails the way I typically talk (unless they're
business-oriented), so I assume that you're inside of my head and I'm
continuing an on-going conversation.

I'm not strange, I'm just a [Dad's side of the family].

Mom says I ride the short bus 'cause I'm special. :)

Thanks,
jen


His reply:
Your mother was always good at the little white lies.

My reply:
Like saying that you're my real father?

Oooh.... burned you on that one.

His reply:
Well, we didn't want to spoil it for you, but you really should call be
calling me "Uncle Daddy"

My reply:
Just so long as Uncle Daddy keeps the money rolling in, I'll call you whatever you want, even King Solomon the Third.


Okay, so that last one wasn't the best, but... I didn't get enough sleep last night, and the kitten woke me up an hour before my alarm this morning. Damn kitten.

And while we're on the subject... I think I've chosen the name Thena for her, short for Athena, Greek Goddess of War. Kitten likes to attack things, therefore... :) Most of the Greek Goddesses also had ties to love and romance (although if I remember correctly, Athena was one of the few that didn't, having sprung from Zeus' head fully-formed), which kinda not really ties in the Valentine aspect of her name... but ah well. It's not like I'm going to forget that I got her on Valentine's Day. :)

So yes, Thenacat, Thenakitten, Demon Spawn of the Black Pit, Pest, Brat, Little Bit, Little Screech, Teeny Bits... those are her alternate names. :) I don't know what it is, cats always seem to develop nicknames around me. :)