Numbified?

This isn't just any pack of cigarettes. This pack signifies new people and a new attitude. It's also the first pack I've purchased in 2.5 years. Imagine that. I never really was very addicted and I won't be now either, but this is happening. Tabacco in these lungs is happening. See ,I do things like this to be dramatic like I've explained before and to just feel up life a little bit.

Something happened to me here recently. I kinda slowly, sort of, for different reasons, lost a lot of my friends.

The ex beat me up...lost him and a few associated with him.

Best friend and her boyfriend moved across the country...lost them

Other best friend moved to San Fran....go fucking figure.

Two other best friends got the wrong idea...what the fuck.

She moved

He moved

She started dating him

He started dating her.

I mean the list just keeps going on and on. I think this is why I hated the desert so much in high school, but I haven't reached the point of hatred or even discomfort yet. Something is keeping me here and it's hard to lay my finger on it. I want to know, I SO want to know what it is. So I can love it and appreciate it. But this is what I needed, right? Some peace and quiet and cheap rent. Some sunshine and nearby family. SO maybe that's all it really takes to make me happy and humble.

On a daily basis, I feel lonely here and there but I have people all over the country who will be there for me always, no matter what. That's stored inside of my busy brain and it backs up all of my thoughts always. Provides a backbone and foundation. If things get really bad and I don't find what I'm really looking for, I'll move back to San Francisco. Or maybe I will move to Sacramento and fulfill some empty, seemingly impossible goals. 

All I know is, something's gotta give and someone will complete me soon. Whether I know him already or not..he's there and we're going to change this fucking world together.

I'm Feeling Well

I'm feeling well enough to be surprised on those three hours of sleep I had last night. I've sorted a lot of things already today. Things around my room and closet, paperwork and such. I'm working on my brain now and things are making sense.
I have to be dramatic to get things done, and I don't see how people can't realize that.
And I'll be damned if my heart goes through what it did with the last body of testosterone again. I need to start thinking about these things before I make these plans. And for the last fucking time, I really need to work on NOT fucking right away.
One day I will learn, one day.
My ribs are popping out from all of these skipped meals..
I am probably the only woman that doesn't like that. I enjoy some meat on my bones, makes my boobs and ass seem bigger and that's important obviously.

Sneaky

okay, viewers, here's a SMALL sneak peak of the intro to my memoir...

"Here I am, about to start another significant chapter in my life. I’m moving back to the dirty desert, the place I was born and raised, the place that turned me into this impulsive, hyper, boy-hungry girl that I am. Palm Springs, California. San Francisco has been my home for the last three years. I’ve been in school on and off, worked on and off, and loved on and off. Something is telling me to go back to the desert and it’s been haunting my thoughts for the past six months. It all started when I lost myself in a very marriage-like relationship with the wrong person. Don’t get me wrong, I did not let a guy ruin San Francisco for me. There were many factors that played in the mix as well; money, drugs, drinking, two-faced people, and crowded streets. 

People say things happen to you after loved ones die. Like certain character traits change, vanish, or even reappear from the depths of your soul. After my parents died in a brutal car accident on my 13th birthday, my life started over again. My grandparents did an almost perfect job in making sure I was always okay, mentally and physically. If they hadn’t taken me in, I simply would not be anywhere close to who I am today. But this isn’t about my early teenage years. September 24th, 2007, three of my very close friends died in a car accident. It was our senior year of high school and things got fucked up. I got fucked up. Getting through the rest of that school year was one of the hardest things I’ve ever dealt with. I didn’t know where I was going to college yet, but I knew I was going. I was thinking LA or Portland, maybe even Chicago. All I knew was, the desert meant death and I had to get the hell out of there. 

The accident seemed to last forever. The victims were three carefree kids that went to a small private school, they had it all. Completely perfect lives. My boyfriend at the time, Dan, who immediately became a huge part of my life, went to school with them. He got hit the worst out of all of us. They were literally his best friends. I remember him saying, “I need to go buy some new video games now that I don’t have any friends left.” 

High school had always been an extreme roller coaster for me. Freshman year was an adventure of growing up and loosing baby fat. I got prettier and smarter. I started hanging out with some good kids, not the ghetto kids I strutted  around with in middle school. This is when my boy craze really hit off."

LOL

Only If You Got That Wine Fine

I plan on staying up late tonight.

I also plan on killing this entire bottle of wine.

Yesterday was interesting but I don't really want to think about it too much right now.

I met up with a friend at a bar on my way home from 29 Palms. We hit up that Irish Pub near The Tram, the one that always seems empty. The lights were on and it made it strange but it was  happy hour so I was instantly happy. I felt good and relaxed, which has been a bit rare lately. Especially considering all the driving. But we talked about politics and things and anyone who's willing to do that is just awesome. I mean, I think that's why i was so calm, which I believe could be contradicting.

The government is not calm.

So here I am. I was feeling weird all day today but I think it came from skipping meals and thinking about all the instabilities within my head. I was really trying to figure some shit out today but I just didn't get anywhere. I hate when I say things I don't mean to.

What am I even getting at?

I was peaceful, you know, laying on my floor, stretching my back out. Work was painful today.
He called me and I just looked at my phone for a while before I answered. This is the second time this has happened lately.
"Are you sure you didn't mean to call someone else?" I asked jokingly. I always know the right things to say to him.

See, the truth is, I'm taking the necessary steps to move on. To forget.

It's up to me to finish this book, it's up to me to pay my bills, get to work on time, take care of my rabbits, my car, myself.

fuck.
I'm drunk.

Today Feels Like Monday

The truth is black and white.
Men fall in love with my vagina and not ME.

This is something that I have to deal with and live with and understand. I don't have anyone to talk to about it because nobody can relate. I must be one of the best fucks out there, seriously.

So imagine this, if you fucking can...

Great weekend with the man you love. He doesn't love you back because...well, that's the whole issue. Why doesn't he? Great chemistry, awesome conversations, funny jokes, fantastic fucking time, and last but entirely not least, perfect sex. You know, the kind where you cum at the same time every time?

For some weird, off-the-wall reason, I was feeling good this weekend. Inside and out. There was some serious internal happiness happening. I felt confident and pretty. It was how rapid he called me to tell me he was in the desert. It was how he looked at me and kissed me right when I walked in. He never does that. So all weekend i thought something was coming, some sort of confession of feelings or promise.

Nothing.

Here's my vagina...it will accomodate you next time, and the time after that, and the time after that...!

But now that it's Sunday, I'm home, work's over with and he's back in the smoggy OC, doing whatever  he does, everything is back to normal. Normal as in, I'm missing him, trying to meet other men to replace him but everyone sucks, and he isn't giving a damn about me and won't bother talking to me again until he's here again.

So what happens when i do meet someone worth keeping?

Sadly, I'll have to never talk to him again because i could never ever ever ever be faithful to my new dude. He'll always be better.

Gonna throw up.

I am so DUMB

I Just Wonna Believe

What a tiresome week it has been. I'm dramatic, but it's fine. Sometimes I need to be to get things done and I don't see how and why people don't understand that.
I'm in an entirely better place right now; tall ceilings, a closet the size of a bedroom, private bathroom and patio, 5 minutes from work. See, things just work out for me a lot of the time because they have to and the universe is usually on my side.

                                                                    ***

The lawyer came to town. I was sober; scripts and drank-free. I wasn't nervous like I usually get after not seeing him in a while. We've been talking more and things feel comfortable. He kissed me with more passion than he ever has before. I mean, it was like we weren't here on Earth. It was like he was mine. I fell asleep next to him and had the most fulfilling night of sleep i've had in weeks. And as I laid next to him all night in my deep, deep slumber I dreamt about us. About us being together, happy, and whole.

I have absolutely no reason to not have hope at this point.

Why you gotta?

There should be distance limits on lecturing and nagging. For example; if you live in germany do not lecture someone who lives in Palm Springs. CA...

All I've ever done was love you, see, I didn't exactly wait for you after we broke up, but i didn't need to. You still cared about me regardless of what I was doing for money or who I was dating/seeing. It was YOU who didn't want the relationship, it was YOU who needed to "grow" and "learn" and do [your] own thing". You said all of these things repeatedly.

When I threw away some years of my life for you, fuck, fuck, fuck it hurt. And you're still telling me how to live my life? You're telling me I was more responsible in San Francisco? You're telling me I don't need these 'scripts, these men, these drinks, these caming gigs? Really? I'd listen to you if you didn't make me crazy. I'd listen to you if you didn't hurt me so badly and lead me on and ruin my goals and life in SF. 

I have never ending hatred for you. It's almost the same amount as the love I have for you.

I'm too afraid to visit you for all of these reasons. So, you won't be seeing me in Germany or India come fall. Perhaps you won't ever see me again...

But you will still inherit all of my money if I die.

self-diagnosis:

The diagnosis of one's own health problems, usually without direction or assistance from a physician.

See, a doctor once told me I had general anxiety and some doctors that I know personally told me that I have general anxiety. I nodded and said, okay, not really caring what "general" meant.

So I diagnosed myself with separation anxiety.

I hit an all-time low on Thursday. It was the kind of freak out everyone has been waiting for. The moment when everything bad that has ever happened to me surfaced and my brain relived every bad, sad, scared emotion I've ever had. I popped a few more pills than I should have and when I finally got home from a 15 hour work day, i clasped on my bedroom floor and cried for hours. I was drifting in and out of dream and consciousness and at some point I hands down, convinced myself that I was no longer alive. That I was dead and this was hell and all of my questions were answered but they were all the wrong answers. 

I was cold, I was so fucking cold. I put a sweater, pants, socks and mittens on. I got underneath my heavy winter blanket and dreamt about a man raping me all night. 

I woke up with an annoying pill hangover, head pounding and equilibrium was a bit off. I fed my rabbits, drank a whole bunch of water and took an abnormally hot shower. My eyes were terribly swollen from all of the crying and it came to me....

I am simply lonely.

Really the only people in my life that give me enough attention to satisfy my needy needs are the penis' that end up in between my legs. 

But these relationships aren't going to amount to anything. Partly because I won't allow it because I'm secretly waiting for someone and partly because these men just want a vagina to fuck.

I really need to work on not fucking on the first date. But something happened when my parents chromosomes got together and  created me. I am a spawn of the sex gods. I need it just as bad as any slutting man out there. And I will sacrifice sleep to travel really far to get laid.

Masturbation just doesn't work for me anymore. 

I wrote this in January. I want to feel like this again...

It’s seven pm on Super Bowl Sunday. This is the kind of day I wish I wasn’t in America. 

So instead of participating in football festivities that my friends knew not to invite me to, I am tucked away in my own wing of the house I live in, writing. Sometimes I wish I can hop on a Muni train and write ‘til the line ends and the announcement warns, “This is the last stop. Please gather your personal belongings and exit the bus. Last stop”. My work was so much better then. 

So here I am now, I’ve found peace in Indio. Though I’m exhausted from last night’s outing of alcohol, dancing, sex, and thinking, I am expecting the words to flow quickly. It always takes a while. 

“R” sent me a text that really fucking rubbed me the wrong way. “Meeting some nicer guys?” I looked down at my phone, awkwardly dumbfounded. “I am offended” I replied. 

“Why?” he asked.

I didn’t reply. I left it at that. I left him hanging like he always did to me. As if “meeting nicer guys” is some skill that I’ve recently picked up. As if he assumes my recent happiness is from this new ability of meeting kind males. He doesn’t care, so why does he ask? We both stopped caring months ago…

So this is for you if you decide to lurk my blog in your cold room in your cold city with your cold attitude;

I am happy because I don’t share a room with anyone. I am happy because my bunnies are always around me. I am happy because I am financially stable. I know what I want, I know where I want to be, who I want to be. I am happy with what I look like for the first time in years; you never made me feel pretty. 

I AM HAPPY BECAUSE I FINALLY LOVE MYSELF.

…and because of all of those things, I am meeting “nicer guys”.

Thank you.

I am hands down....gifted...with a...

perfect vagina.

The Not So Great Wall

It's a slow evening in Cathedral City tonight, here in the cove where I don't spend most of my time because i'm usually working or giving my body away...

It's nice to be home, though, with the bunnies and my computer and my comfy bed. I am lonely and have been. God, I miss him so much but it's all just so stupid when I really think about it. Were all the orgasms worth it?

Yeah.

Someday soon I'll stop bingeing on sex. Someday soon I will be living with a significant other, being faithful and wife-like. I don't trust myself single and I hope to not be for much longer.

I'm just being honest here.

I think this is all I write about now, and I'm sorry, but the law boy took so much out of me. People always talk about some wall that gets built deep, deep within the human body when you just can't take it anymore. It doesn't let anyone pass, not even the people who deserve to. You'd think I'd have an ancient brick wall. Or at least some sort of tall, sharp fence from all the deaths in my life. I was never dosed with any sort of barricade to keep people out. I always wanted more and more people in my life. I always fell in love so easily and I always made everyone my best friend. But now, shit is just different. I have a wall. It's established; made of concrete. It's stable and it's strong. Well built. It's also very, very new to me. 

There are two boys willing to make me theirs for...forever. They are both successful, both good looking, both perfect. But I can't say anything but NO NO NOOOOOOO!

Because either of you have the machinery to break down this wall of mine 

:(

You Feel Me?

Because I can not feel you...