Perfect Together

think i’m going for a walk now
i feel a little unsteady
don’t want nobody to follow me
‘cept maybe you
i could make you happy, y’ know
if you weren’t already
i could do a lot of things
and i do
tell you the truth i prefer
the worst of you
too bad you had to have a better half
she’s not really my type
but i think you two are forever
and i hate to say it
but you’re perfect together

so fuck you
and your untouchable face
and fuck you
for existing in the first place
who am i
that i should be vying for your touch
who am i
bet you can’t even tell me that much

two-thirty in the morning
and my gas tank will be empty soon
neon sign on the horizon
rubbing elbows with the moon
a safe haven of sleepless
where the deep fryer’s always on
and the radio is counting down
the top twenty country songs
and out on the porch the fly strip
is waving like a flag in the wind
y’know, i don’t look forward
to seeing you again
you’ll look like a photograph of yourself
taken from far far away
and i won’t know what to do
and i won’t know what to say

except fuck you
and your untouchable face
and fuck you
for existing in the first place
who am i
that i should be vying for your touch
who am i
bet you can’t even tell me that much

i see you and i’m so perplexed
what was i thinking
what will i think of next
where can i hide
in the back room there’s a lamp
that hangs over the pool table
and when the fan is on it swings
gently side to side
there’s a changing constellation
of balls as we are playing
i see orion and say nothing
the only thing i can think of saying

is fuck you
and your untouchable face
and fuck you
for existing in the first place
who am i
that i should be vying for your touch
who am i
bet you can’t even tell me that much

© 1996 ani difranco / righteous babe music

Am I Crazy?

This is going to sound crazy, but it is what it is and if I leave it to my eyes only then I feel like it’s invalid and nuts and I’ll rip it up and then I won’t remember what went on so I can talk with my psychiatrist.

Last night this kid I used to work with (not really a kid, but I don’t know what to call him) is texting me about porn. I get a call from Alice and we are talking and out of context while I am talking about a Grey’s episode she says, “Not real. It’s all imaginary, fake.” I get a text from the kid while on the phone with her, but ignore it because I am on the phone (pet peeve: answer a text while on the phone with me). The text I read when I get off says, “I finally got off to a babysitter porn”. Why does that trigger me? I babysat Molly yesterday. He didn’t know that. I always feel I am being watched. I always think there are cameras. Why? Because I worked in retail most my fucking working life and it’s the nature of the beast. Wherever you are, there are cameras.

I am also a big believer in nanny-cams so as I am already feeling what some would call paranoia, that flipped me.

Yesterday while Molly was napping I was watching House and this patient had something and they were trying to rule out Leukemia as soon as the symptoms are listed it cuts to commercial so what is the first commercial, it’s about Leukemia and Lymphoma. One of my lymph glands is “swollen” so I need an expensive sonogram to rule out any bad stuff like 7 months from now. I had thyroid cancer, a millimeter size bit of cancer, but enough to stick in my mind. Also when I was breaking out in hives and in the hospital the blood work was taking forever and the doctor is all like “you have a high white count blah blah” I’m like, “Heard it before let me go.”

So I Bing Leukemia and one of the symptoms that pops is flu like feeling and bone weakness. My brain goes, “There’s your sign” and I’m all like “You can go fuck yourself brain”, but even though I knew jumping to a conclusion like that in that manner was crazy.

It also doesn’t help that yesterday I found a free movie on the cable box thing called “Forever Lulu” What is it about? A schizophrenic woman who escapes a facility to inform her first love of their child she gave up. Sometimes when I go psycho, I think I am pregnant. Why? Probably because of the aftershock of going through what I went through with my first love. What scared me? She’s schizophrenic and her mannerisms are so like mine when I go psycho it’s… wow. I have no words for it. Now I know how everyone saw my breakdowns.

As I saw the fear in heartbreak in their eyes, they saw a crazy, paranoid, nonsensical freak show. That is why I hate pity. That’s why I think people are looking at me weird when they look longer than just a glance. That’s why I think paranoid. Because I remember all their mannerisms as they watched me spin out of control. It was like looking through a window pain.

I need away. I need to fucking just leave like everyone else does when they need a change of scenery. I need to clear my head.

I got in the car with my mom one night and I smelled this horrific smell of like gasoline and she said she could only faintly smell it. And said nothing else but to roll my windows down. Her expression on her face was the same look I have seen when I am spiraling down.

I’ve been called a hypochondriac all my fucking life. So much to the point that I can’t ever know what’s wrong with me, I refuse to go to doctors with any concerns. No one ever thinks that what I say is valid.

Last night I tell my mom I am a textbook (NIMH) version schizophrenic. “I hate when you read too much.”

I hate that I have to go through this life. Everything that has been instilled in me comes from my mother and sister. If they don’t approve or don’t believe me, I am obviously a hypochondriac and I am wrong and nothing I feel or think about myself is right.

Why do I not know what’s real? Why can’t I trust myself to believe myself? Yeah, I believe in self-accountability, but sometimes you have to know when something isn’t your fault. You have to realize that crazy didn’t start with you.

I have to get ready to take a little trip. Sorry there is no great ending.

 

Breaking the law! Breaking the law!

The Beavis and Butt-head Experience

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

That’s the only lyric I know from that metal song that plays in my brain like an earworm on crack and conjures images of old Beavis and Butthead episodes.

I was 15 years old when what I am about to tell you occurred. I was a good kid, straight A student. I don’t know what happened.* 

Greg was a good friend of mine and he was hot. I don’t know about you, but to me at that age: Good Friend + Hella Hott = Crush. He was tall with blue-green eyes and dirty blonde hair that he would gel into messy spikes. He had a tongue piercing, he was troubled like me, didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought of him. He was a bad boy. A bad boy and a good person. I could talk to him about anything and was welcome to come over when I wanted, he only lived a house over from me.

I was hanging out with a ginger named Jes. She was a good friend. She knew I liked Greg so I introduced them and we all hung out together. She was a good friend until she started dating Greg. Greg didn’t know I was crushing on him, but that didn’t make me any less territorial. I explained that to Jes, but why would she care? She didn’t even know him as well as I did. All of this doesn’t excuse what I did though.

It was the first week of October. I know this because Jes’ birthday is the 4th, mine the 5th and after school on the 6th Greg and I hooked up. I broke a rule, a rule that involved friendship and hurt feelings. She had only been dating him a couple of weeks, but this was pretty low. What’s worse? I didn’t care then because she knew how I felt about him before she pursued him, and I don’t care so much now either. I know what I did was wrong, but I don’t regret it.

I am one of the very few people I know that doesn’t regret how she gave up her virginity. Looking back, 15 is so young. I wouldn’t want to think of my (future) daughter even being felt up at that age, but that’s what happened and I wouldn’t change it.

So I was an adulterer at 15, but I have never had any inclination whatsoever to hook up with any man who’s already in a relationship. No matter how hot they are. I’ll never be the other woman and I would never cheat. You could think less of me, but realize I was a kid when this went down.

In high school you are trying to figure out who you are, not realizing you may not discover that until you are in college or the working world. You are going to break hearts, hurt feelings, get ridiculously drunk at parties, maybe try some dope, possibly have sex, find best friends, become worst enemies, then best friends again. Nothing is off-limits and the façade your child wears around you may completely be different from what they show their friends. She/he could be a straight A good kid and getting high and meeting boys/girls behind your back.

My mom and I had excellent communication when I was growing up. So much so that I felt guilty for having had sex and I wrote her a letter about it. I also always was the kid that if I lied, not 5 minutes later I’d go to her room to confess that I lied.

I am not a rule breaker, but that is one thing I did that broke the rule of friendship. I lived, I loved, I learned and came out pretty much unscathed. It was high school.

_____________________________________

*Sentence from an old ant-drug commercial that I can’t find on youtube.

Post inspired by today’s Daily Post Prompt: Think about the last time you broke a rule (a big one, not just ripping the tags off your pillows). Were you burned, or did things turn out for the best?

Prego Project: Voicing Violence Award

pregoprojectpresentedbypregoandtheloon

I’m honored.

Jet @ Sustainably Single Parenting was sweet enough to grace me with such a prestigious award. Why prestigious? Because it stands for something so very important and that is voicing Domestic Violence so we can make more people aware and hopefully become a society that doesn’t have to put up with living like that. Do we want our children to grow up and experience what we have as the generation before them? I wouldn’t. So thank you, so very much, Jet. I couldn’t be more honored to receive this since I have known domestic violence all my life. More on that soon.

PREGO PROJECT RULES

  1. Kindly thank the person who nominated you, and provide a link back to their blog.
  2. Attach the Prego Project Award presented by Prego and the Loon to your site.
  3. Provide a bit of hope and inspiration for those currently dealing with domestic violence.
  4. Nominate some other bloggers whom you feel deserve this award!

My Story(ies)

When I was very young, I can remember our apartment in Virginia, but I have no memories of my father ever being there. I don’t know why. He was absent relatively often due to his career and his alcoholism. He was military — Navy branch so he would be deployed on sea duty for 6-9 months at a time. This could be the reason.

When we were able to afford living in a house they had what I referred to as our “big” home built. I was 6 when we moved in. I do not remember how old I was when the first incident happened. The first incident I had witnessed. My father was obliterated and had been watching some football game down stairs. I went to sleep in my mom’s room so I was upstairs with her watching TV. My father comes into the room and wants to show her some stupid mascot and my mom keeps saying no, that we are in the middle of a show. He changes the channel and my mom gets up to change it back and when she gets close enough to my father, he about coldcocks her. Fist to face. Her glasses break. And just as casually as he came in, he walks out.

Another night, I am right next door playing with my friend Jason whose grandparents live next to us and I receive a call from my mom. Her voice is shaken, I can tell she’s been crying and she is telling me it’s time to come home now. I knew what happened because it was always worst when they went out drinking together so I told her I wanted to spend the night. I knew I wasn’t allowed to spend the night with a boy so I lied and said his sister Becky was with us. My mom reluctantly said OK.

After the first time, I couldn’t keep it together the next day at school so in gym class I had a breakdown and the gym teachers pulled me into their office to find out what was disturbing me. I told them. I kept repeating not to tell my mom; since I was a small child I always knew how easily embarrassed she was. In all honesty, she was an enabler (co-dependent) and didn’t want to lose everything so she did what she could to keep it together. I was scheduled to see the school counselor every day. I learned about alcoholism, domestic violence, everything.

My mom left my father when I was almost 11 and my sister was almost 16. We drove out of the neighborhood I loved August 16, 1996. I’ll never forget.

Two and half years later, my father went completely sober and was in AA. My mom decided to take him back and I flipped. I didn’t know that man. What I knew of that man was scary. I didn’t want to live with him again. I actually had written in my diary shortly after we were settled, “I miss Virginia terribly. I think I always will. I don’t miss my father and I’ve never felt so free before. I am happy they are divorcing.”

I found a little black book hidden underneath my mother’s mattress. I was a sneak since the day I was born. I opened it and read each date and time and the actual events that occurred. The only times I actually witnessed the violence, it was fist to face. When I wasn’t home, it was much worse.

She needed me home that night and I had refused.

_______________________________

My former friend Nicole was in an abusive relationship in our late teens. He was controlling, volatile and sometimes physical. He wouldn’t hit her, but he’d shove her and leave hand marks and bruises on her arms and legs. One time he was so disturbed he told her he was going to kill himself and told her not to worry “sweet angel” because he’d be taking her with him. They had been arguing and her had her pinned to the floor when he said it in this eerily calm voice. The first time I ever rolled was at their apartment and when she was in the bathroom he told me if I wasn’t her friend he’d bang me. Talk about ew. Then later when we were on the balcony and he eluded that he had her under such control if he could make her crumble if he wanted to — basically destroy her. I told Niki that if she was to keep seeing him, I was done. She’d call to talk and once she’d start about him I’d tell her I didn’t want to hear it. No one did, so eventually she was able to break it off and be done with him.

______________________________

Alice, I think, is full of shit. She told me how she once got attacked and almost choked out by her father. She also told me that a former boyfriend once took a pool stick to her when she refused to have sex with him. I would think things like that would deter her from this choice to be with Dipshidiot, but either those were falsehoods or she’s more wrecked than I thought.

I didn’t want to have anything to do with my father after what he did to my mom. If he attacked me?? Hope you don’t mind having children who will never have anything to do with you again. Ever. No, though. She talks to him and I have heard her conversations with him, it’s a very close relationship. I know every one’s relations with their family is different, but I find it hard to respect my father so I’m not always the kindest to him. I come by it naturally.

____________________________

Jorge was controlling, he wanted me isolated. We’d have blown out arguments. He got physical a couple of times. We were a recipe for disaster. He’s the only abusive-like relationship I’ve been in, but if anyone tries to tell me it was abusive, I will defend our relationship. He’s the only man I ever loved, so far. I know getting out of relationships like that are not easy. But if you walk into one willingly, like Alice, I will think you a dumbfuck. No doubt.

_____________________________

A man who has a domestic violence rap sheet is a man to be wary of. It is not often that women do actually call for help, so really it must have been bad that the woman not only called 911, but took the man to court and proceeded in pressing charges. He can tell you she’s a crazy bitch, the system is messed up because she only had a surface scratch on her that he doesn’t believe he even made. But it’s lies. Especially if it’s from 2 different women and the man is an alcoholic.

Public records are easy to check. Google is your best friend. Something fishy? Throw him back.

_____________________________

I don’t want to seem sexist, so I will also say that men out there also need to be wary of women abusers. They are out there. It can be embarrassing to go to authorities because she’s a woman, but don’t let it continue. We need to stop the violence from both parties, so swallow your pride and let someone know.

This also goes to violence between lesbian and gay couples. Women to children. Men to children. Children to parents. Stop the cycle.

NOMINEES

I need your help. In the comments section, if you’d like, please bring forth to me those who speak about or have personal experience with domestic violence so I can pass this award to them. I’m not trying to make you do the work for me, I just don’t know anyone in my reader that talks about it all that much. & I don’t want to assume someone has when they have not. So if you could be so kind so I can pass on this award and spread even more awareness, I’d really appreciate it. I’d like to do all I can to stopping the violence.

I also want to give an open invitation to any and all who’ve lived with Domestic Violence, grew up seeing it, or are currently in a situation to email me if you want. It will be completely confidential and I am just opening up if you need someone to talk to. I know what it feels like to be living with a dirty secret. My email is combat5babe[at]gmail[dot]com.

  1. anewfreelife

Sexuality Exploration

Women on Top: How Real Life Has Changed Women'...

Women on Top: How Real Life Has Changed Women’s Sexual Fantasies (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I’m not one to read sex blogs. They make me uncomfortable. There is probably some deep seeded Freudian psychological reasoning behind how I once was very comfortable with sex and talking about it into recently being uncomfortable and uncertain. It’s a complete love hate relationship.

I wanted to be a Suicide Girl when I first discovered them at the age of 18-20. I’m not endorsing the alternative pornography website, I am just letting you peek to see what it is if you’re curious. I actually applied 2 separate times and was accepted, but never sent in any photo shoots. Some girls shot their own pictures and some knew photographers in their areas.

A major part of society believes any young woman wanting to expose herself to the public must have some deep-rooted daddy issues. Or they were molested when they were young. Or they have low self-esteem.

Me? The only possible daddy issue I could have is that he was absent a lot due to his military career and interest in hanging out in bars. No one ever molested me, except Ivan — but I was 14 and I think that makes a slight difference than if you’re molested more than just one time. I was innocent, but I was not naïve. I had an instinct it was going to happen before it did, I was just scared to get out of it because I didn’t know what he was capable of. I’ve also never had any self-esteem issues. I have been depressed, I have had mental breakdowns, but I’ve always had a moderate to high self-esteem.

My own opinion is that I turn myself on and it turns me on and is kind of a high turning other people on. The draw back is you cannot control who is turned on by you and that, my friends, is why I would never be a stripper. With the site, you don’t have to know who’s looking at you. Another draw back is that I would NEVER want my dad to come across me. That makes me feel icky, real icky.

I would post the picture that inspired this post, but I’m not without thinking of my readers and I am sure not all of you would appreciate coming across it in your reader without warning. So I shall describe it. It was a young exotic woman with long brown wavy hair, think Cindy Crawford hair. Whom was wearing a school girl skirt, posed on a set of stairs looking down at the camera which caught the perfect shot of her red panties.

I am a self-proclaimed heterosexual. But I would be lying my ass off if I didn’t say that I not only found it sexy, but my lady parts responded in excitement. I have always found women to be more attractive than men. Yes, there are cute men. There are hot men. I’ve never described a man as being sexy. I’m very happy to own a vagina instead of a penis. In my head I just think sexy is a term for women.

Sex (heterosexual sex) has felt good, but I’ve never had an orgasm. It usually happens that when I get close, they suddenly lose control and it’s done. I don’t believe myself to be a slut, but I have had my fair share of partners and as I have mentioned, I once was very comfortable with sex.

For me it’s hard to believe there is true bisexuality. I think it’s rare that it’s a 50/50 split. I think people who claim to be bisexual past the age of 25 are just a being of opportunity. I think all people know what sex they predominantly want to be with. It’s like with anything else: For ice cream I prefer chocolate, but if there is only vanilla I will take vanilla.

You can’t know if you like something until you try it. I’m more picky about women than I am about men. I also do not like video graphic pornography. Yet, if I do ever watch it, why do I prefer 2 women instead of a man and a woman? Why does a scantily clad woman turn me on and a really hot guy doesn’t give me any sexually physical response?

I wonder, am I a wolf in sheep’s clothing?

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