I Lost My Best Friend

I'm not sure how to write this. I don't even know if I should write this; because frankly the questions I ask with in this blog may have answers that I'm very afraid of. Maybe I should just start talking.

I had a big, big fight with J. last night and the reason we fought is all my fault. You may remember my blog "Fun with P, J, and J". You may also remember me saying that the only reason I included the female J. in the fun the male J. and I were having together was because I didn't want her to feel left out. What I didn't add to that blog was that I didn't tell her this, basically I told her that I wanted to do it with both of them. I don't know if I've ever talked on here about how much I hate lying. Well I do. I know, I know I lie to my mom and family all the time about what the male J. and I do together, but trust me when I say it breaks my heart more then once over with every lie I tell them. When I'm around the people I have lied to the lie boils up inside me and it's very hard not to tell those people the truth. Because of this fact when ever the female J. called me on my cell phone I would tell her that I was busy. You know how when you tell a lie you keep having to tell additional lies so the person who you lied to won't find out?Well she texted me last night asking how I was. I sent the following message back: "I'm fine but I can't talk b/c it costs money", which is a lie. While text messaging costs money, it does not cost money to talk to another person on my cell phone after nine pm, which it was. The female J. figured that the reason I was avoiding her was because I had gotten what I wanted and I now wanted to just blow her off (which is so far from the truth. The female J. is a wonderful, caring, loving girl who doesn't deserve to be lied to. I wanted to be friends with her from the start but the lie just kept me from talking to her). Well since she figured this was the truth of the whole thing she told the male J. (the male J. and the female J. having such a close relationship they consider each other brother and sister) and he called me and he sounded so angry that I just finally wanted to tell the truth and well...he was pissed.

The male J. has the same rule I do: if you mess with us, we don't really care. But mess with our friends or family, and we will hate you for the rest of your life. And that's exactly what I did. So the male J. yelled at me for awhile, and when we got off the phone I called the female J. (no, not because I'm a glutton for punishment but because even though I knew I would be yelled at I wanted her to know how horrible I felt for making her feel horrible). She yelled at me for a while but then something I didn't expect happen. She told me that I was to call her in two days and tell her if I came up for a good reason for doing what I did. I told her that was impossible, as there really is no good reason for what I did. And as we talked, somehow she was able to me nice to me. I don't know how, because as the male J. said she should have cut me a new one and then left me for the wolves. I'll never know why, but she actually told me she cared about me. And then she told me that I could call her the next day because she knew I was telling myself I don't deserve friends and she said that that's not true! She said that I do deserve friends but I just need to learn how to treat people! I told you this girl is a wonderful person!

I don't know what's going to happen from here on out. The male J. told me that whether or not we remain friends depends on whether or not I "lick (the female) J.'s boots clean", and that whether or not we stayed friends would also depend on how I treat the female J. in the next coming weeks and months. I hope that's the truth because I plan on being more then nice to the female J. I plan on doing, getting, and being anything she asks for. I do not deserve to be given the gift of this woman's friendship but for some reason this girl is giving me a second chance and as the goddess as my witness I will do everything in my power to make that happen.

Why did I do what I did to her? Cuz I'm a selfish, horrible bitch? Other then that reason I can't give you any other reason. I honestly don't know why I did it. Yes I wanted to be with the male J. and finally give him something as he has given me more then I deserve but that is no good reason to do what I did and the female J. asked me for a good reason. I am racking my brain, and really I think I could write in here for an eternity before I found an answer.

How do I always do this? How do I always manage to loose my friends just when we really start to get to know each other and care about each other? I used to tell the male J. that someday I'd screw it up. He never believed me. I guess now he does. God, that's a horrible feeling. I wanted him to be right damn it. For once in my life I wanted to have a long term friend. Everyone has long term friends...at least I think I do...you know those people who you have been friends with your entire life? I never had one of them and just when I thought that I was getting close I screw it up. Figures.

I guess I'll go for now, less this blog get too long. It can never be long enough.

Blessed be.

The Story Of N.

I've put the Dixie Chicks "Taking The Long Way" in my computer. I keep listening to their song "Not Ready To Make Nice", which is the song they wrote after people banned them, wrote death threats, and basically made their life a living hell just because they told the truth about George Bush. The first time I heard it, I knew that it had something to do with my life. But I figured since I'm an activist, and have been told many times I'm going to hell, that that was the reason I feel so connected to the song. But as I play the song over and over, I really listen to the words:

"Forgive, sounds good
Forget, I'm not sure I could"

and the chorus is:

"I'm not ready to make nice
I'm not ready to back down
I'm still mad as hell
and I don't have time to go round and round and round

still mad as hell can't bring myself to do what it is you think I should"

I know, you aren't getting the connection, and even as I tell you the words that meant the most to me, you still won't get it. I avoided talking about this topic in here because frankly even after all this time I can't handle thinking about it without getting at least a little upset. Now, if you've heard the song, you might know the line that I am talking about, but if you don't, I'll put it here:

"they say, time heals everything, but I'm still waiting..."

I put the song on again so that the memory doesn't leave. Not that it ever will. Somehow this song has a way of drawing out many of the parts that I wish I could forget. Sigh...I guess I should just talk about it...so here goes.

This is the story of N. Not my sister, but my ex. I may have mentioned him a few times here and there, but I haven't really talked about the whole story. That's partially because my mind has blocked out many parts of the relationship. The biggest reason is because I try to forget it as much as possible.

I started dating N. in January of 2001. I had just broken up with C., someone I believe to be my first love, because I felt something with him I didn't feel till J. Somehow I couldn't get over him. It was my senior year of high school, and I sat with a table of guys that all, on one level or another, thought I was hot. N. was obviously one of these people. Still, I couldn't get C. out of my mind. So when N. called me up one night and we started talking and I could hear the nervousness in his voice, I just went for it. We started going out that night.

At first things were actually really good. I guess they usually are in these types of relationships. Then there is the turning point. But I will get to that. For now, the good parts. That point in my life was one of the worst for my RSD. Because of this, everyday, the period before lunch, I slept in the nurses office. I know what your thinking "wow, lucky..." but I wasn't. I was in so much pain and so tired that the daily period with the nurse was only a small reprieve from the pain. N. would "pick me up" from the nurses office everyday, and then he would walk me to lunch where we would part again. N. also was the person who pushed my wheel chair when my school's music department went to Chicago for a competition. Like I said, it started out nice at least.

At some point during that end of the school year I met D. D. and I were best friends for a few years, even after I broke up with N. I didn't realize what an ass he was even with everything that was happening. I honestly thought N. was the one who was holding the reigns. The truth was they both seemed to just like me see me squirm. But I'm getting to that.

One day N. And D. came over to my house. They told me they had to talk (now this is the part where my heart catches in my chest and I'm having a hard time typing. I may even have to stop and wait till another day. No, I must get this out...). They then told me that they had figured out, basically that N. was the son of the devil and that D. was the manifestation of love. I don't remember my exact role, all I know is that I was below both of them. As stupid as it sounds, I believed them.

From their, things got even weirder. At one point when I was at a carnival in my city, I felt, and this happened to me many times after, that I just didn't want to be there. Not in the "I don't like this carnival" sort of way, but in the "I don't want to be on this earth" sort of way. I actually tried to kill myself with my favorite necklace. I since tried to kill myself with many things, including a spoon. Please don't ask me to explain what was going on in my head back then. Many people have accused me of making up the feeling for attention. But as I write this I realize that I wish that were the truth. For some reason I wanted to die, in anyway possible. I want to blame N. for these actions, but it happen long after I broke up with him. Though N. did tell me I was beneath him, he always stopped me from doing what I planned.

You may be thinking "so what was so bad?". That's because I haven't told you about N. and D.'s part in it. You see, along with their story, N. and D. claimed they had all kinds of powers. I don't know how, but somehow N. managed to lord those so called powers over me. On one occasion I even believed the devil had possessed D. I can't explain to you what happened, all I remember is one minute we were happily playing and then the next minute D. got really scary. He literally growled at me! Now J. has growled at me, but he has apologized for it, and is trying to get help. He has multiple personalities, I know that. I don't know what was going on with D. that day. D. tried to tell me that this was a "test" for N. (or was it the other way around? I don't even remember). Somehow we ended up in my parents front lawn, N. had a pair of scissors to his throat. Some days I fantasize that I tell him to go do it. Other times I fantasize I was the hero in this horrible story. But I have to tell the truth. I went to go after N., and all of a sudden he put his hand out and I fell on my butt. I swear to you on all things holy that his hands did not touch my body. How he did it I don't know, but somehow he forced me to the ground.

These antics did not stop when I broke up with N., indeed it only got worse. You see when I was still dating N. I convinced D., who is gay and at that time had dropped out of school, to finish his schooling at my high school, which was somewhat more liberal then the school he had gone to. After I had broken up with N., D. remained my friend, at least, that's what I thought he was. Well one day D. and N. decided to pretend that N. was hurting D. I mean really hurting him beating him up and everything. I begged D. to come over to my place that night, but he said he would be ok. He came over the next day and continued with his story. That was until I came back from somewhere (I don't remember where) and I found him on the floor crying. He said that he was a horrible, that he and N. had made the whole thing up for a laugh. D. then proceeded to run all the way home. At first I tried to stop him telling him that it was ok (I know I know, don't start).

At some point I got the chance to tell N. why I broke up with him. I honestly don't remember the reason I told him. All I know is that I didn't tell him the truth. At least not the whole truth. I want to tell him now that I broke up with him because he made me feel inches tall. I want to tell him now that he haunts me in my dreams. I don't know if you read it in a past blog but when I used to try to go into the pagan store in Frederick MD I saw his face. This is because he claimed the sorted story he told me was how druids believe. As if one day Druids would find him as their leader, I mean that must be it since he claimed to be the son of the devil and rule over everyone.

Today N. works at the grocery store that my dad likes to go to. One day I went to the store with my dad and he went into N.'s line. Like a coward, I had to take my dad's keys and walk around another island and get in the car. I know N. was laughing at me.

From what D. told me some time later, N. now believes he has evolved. I'm sure he believes he was wrong that I am above all people but below him. I'm sure he now believes I'm the lowest person on earth.

And what happened to D.? Well one day D. had his boyfriend and I for a sleepover. But instead of being a good host and catering to both of us, D. had me sleep in an entirely different room then him and his boyfriend. As he put it, his top three things in life are "the three G's: God Guys and Games". When I first met him he said that his girls were very important to him. I guess that changed. The day I went home I went home dirty, and having to go to the bathroom, since somehow I didn't go for like half a day. I haven't seen D. since.

So that's the story of N. Everyone who reads this, including my friends, must now think I'm a moron for actually believing what N. told me. They must think I'm even more a moron for still being afraid of N. But the truth is I really am. The only way I would ever face him is if J. was with me, and N. and J. could stare at each other and I know J. would win. He might not even need to say anything. Still, I have often fantasized about what J. could do to N. I've seen J.'s worst personality, who J. calls the Abise, coming out and really hurting N. The only thing that stops me is that I think J. might go to jail if he did what I (and really J. too, since J. hates what N. has done to me) want him to.

I hope the people out their in blog world will forgive me for following N. I hope someday I can forgive myself. But as the Dixie Chicks put it:

"forgive, sounds good
forget...I'm not sure I could"

amen sister. And blessed be.

Ending On A Good Note

I'm just going to come on here and talk about whatever I talk about, cuz I really don't have a specific thing that I have on my mind!

So what did everyone think of the last two blogs? I wish more people would comment on this site. I know that I say I don't care one way or the other if people are reading this, but I honestly tell people to read my blog all the time and if seems like no one ever does! If certain people that are always online but never out of "away" mode notice that I am online at the same time they are free, if they would come to the computer and tell me what they thought of my blogs and generally say the hi how are you thing that would be really great!

When I used to belong to a UU youth group we used to do this thing called "good thing/bad thing" where we had to tell one good thing and one bad thing that happened during the week. I always wanted to say the bad news first, so that way I ended on a good note. I think I'll do the same here.

Again, for those who don't like hearing gross things, they may want to skip the next paragraph.

As you may or may not have read in a blog a while ago titled "it's going to get a little gross in here" I deal with constipation on a regular basis. I have been trying to deal with this problem by eating the right things and taking something called Miralax, which for most people would give them the runs if they took it every day but I take it everyday. I will say that it has become easier to go. This, however, does not mean that if I don't push as hard as if I'm pushing out a baby something will come out, but at least it's softer and doesn't hurt. This causes nice sized hemorrhoids. Well today I thought I had to go to the bathroom. I thought that what was going to come out would be very soft, as I have been very good about taking my Miralax. So when I pushed and I push and it still felt like it was stuck half way out and half way in, I was surprised, not to mention scared. I really thought it was...well...shit that was coming out, b/c every time I whipped I got a little bit out, but here what I was really pushing out was one of the biggest hemorrhoids I have ever had in my life (How did I find this out? Well my mom, who came up stairs to see if I was alright, after a while had a peek and noticed what it really was. And if you think that at my age mothers should no longer do this. then I'll ask you to push something that felt bigger then a bread basket out your butt, and then ask you if it's ok that your mom checks to see if it's really what's supposed to come out or a hemorrhoid. Or maybe you just want to sit on the toilet waiting for what's really nothing to come out, you go right ahead, but me, I'd rather have my mom look.). At the time I went to the bathroom I had told the people that I was talking to online that I would "brb". Well when I came back and was unable to sit back down, I wasn't about to carry on an entire conversation with them standing up while I waited for it go back inside, so I simply went to bed.

Ok, those who weren't looking may look now, because all I'm going to talk about is my lack of a job. Sigh...I know I shouldn't blame myself for loosing the IRS job but it really does feel partly like my fault. I should have studied the weekend in between the time we had our first two classes and the time we had our third. But, in my defence: 1) After two four hour classes on day one and day two, I was simply too tired to look at anything else IRS. I mean, help me out those who went to college, if the first two days of a class you are taking is really intense, do you really spend the weekend studying just in case there is a pop quiz? NO, I didn't think so. And 2) Help me out college and former college students, do you expect to have a major test the third day of the class after the first two intense ones? I don't think so. And if there were going to be such a major test, don't you think the teacher would tell you about it? I thought so. I really really thought that when the teacher told us to look over the stuff that we would eventually (key word in this sentence: EVENTUALLY and END)be taking at the end of the class was a suggestion, as a way of keeping the stuff you learned fresh in your head. But remember, there was supposed to be another four hour class after the weekend was over. I think that's enough keeping it in our heads don't you? And yes, they do have to test people so they know what they are doing, but that's why there is a test ON THE LAST DAY! There was literally Thanksgiving and another weekend in between the time this test happened and the time of the test on the last day. I honestly was planning on studying the material on said days.

So now on to the good news. I MADE A FRIEND! And when I said that before, I really don't think that I should have said that. Really all that I had met was an acquaintance. Since meeting him, although the times that I have talked to him have been really nice, we really haven't talked about anything serious, and haven't really talked at all more then ten minutes at a time, at most. This guy is someone from the LCPJ named M., who I have known of since I started going to meetings. We had never talked much, but when we emailed he was really really cool to me. So when the RSD in my lungs was flaring up and I couldn't sleep (as you may or may not have read in my blog), M. turned out to be my hero and talked to me for something like four hours straight until both of us were tired. And no, we didn't talk about how bad the pain or the fact that I couldn't sleep was the whole time. I told him what was going on, that all I needed was someone to talk to about anything they wanted (which was the truth) so that I could stop freaking out about how bad I hurt. At one point I did get serious, and I told him about really needing to make friends fast. Basically I told him that the one true friend that I can count on right now is going back to California in something like six days from now and that if things got bad there would be no one there for me (except for my parents, but help me out internet world, it's different right? I thought so) and how awful it may me feel that the reverse was happening with J. He listened the entire time, not asking if there was anything he could do but instead giving me the occasional "wow that sounds bad" or "uh-huh" which if you hadn't noticed was exactly what I asked for in one of my blogs! At the end of the night I said to him "well, I am really tired, but I think now I will call you a friend" and guess what he said? "ME TOO"! How awesome is that?!? I actually made a true friend! He told me during the conversation that if I ever needed to do it again he would be there for me, though I did tell him my worry with all people that say that, that eventually they all leave. I can't remember what he said to that, but I know that he believes that he's not going to leave. OH! And someone else said something to me about that tonight! He was like "well I haven't left yet have I?"! So I guess I really am starting to make friends! This rocks! Screw the hemorrhoids I had a good day!

And I can truly say that because today I actually got to take out my sax and play with people! While the poor old girl did give a few squeaks and swacks (does anyone know how to spell that?) people who were playing with me told me it sounded really good! And all I was doing was improvising! We were practicing to put together the new LCPJ (I don't really know if we are going to be affiliated with the LCPJ or not but all the members so far are with the same group so...well whatever) protest marching band called "Harmonious Discord"! I don't know if I spelled that right, hopefully spell check will take care of it but if not oh well.

I know what your thinking. "How can you march? What about your RSD?" Well M. actually told me that he would find someone who would push a wheelchair for me! And my sister S. said she would do it! So there! *gives raspberry* LOL I told M. how I feel I owe it to my sax to play b/c she's basically (and yes, my sax is a she. Don't know her name yet, but she is a she) kept me walking in high school (tell you that story later) and he was like "well then we have to get you to play!" How much does that rock!

A good day for once! WooHoo! Hope everyone else had a good day and/or is having a good day. And here's to ending on a good note! Blessed be!

Why We Are Loosing, Part 2

Ok, now that you've had a taste of that piece of garbage, let me explain to you why while I agree with the idea that the war needs to be put to a stop NOW instead of three months from now, let me explain to you the part of the controversy that I vehemently disagree with.

John Murphy believes he knows what he is talking about. At sixty something years of age, he has worked with many political campaigns. I have to tell you that they all failed, since they were all third party candidates that were running. This is because, if you couldn't tell from the last blog, John Murphy hates democrat es. He despises them. He believes that in order to have a real conversation about ending the war, democrat es should not be part of the conversation. For those of you who don't know politics all that well, let me explain to you why this is wrong.

While I am very much for better election laws that include third, fourth, and even fifth party candidates, until that happens John Murphy and every other member of third parties need to realize that the Democratic party is huge. You can not take them out of the picture, because if you take them out of the picture, there really is only one group left, and that's republicans. And we wouldn't want that now would we?

While third parties such as greens, libertarians and other such parties have been growing, they are not big enough to compete with republicans on a national level. And, in order to really change the policy on the war in Iraq, someone besides the republicans needs to be in charge of national office. The voting population of the United States understands this, and that is why the democrat es won control of the house and senate in the election. But let's for a moment take politics out of this.

It is not enough to be anti-war. In order to really change things in our society, people need to become pro-peace. People need to at least begin to realize that if we are going to change anything in this country we need to work together, instead of dividing ourselves off into smaller groups. This is exactly what I believe pro-war politicians want us to do. They want us to separate so that there is not enough of one group to win any election, thus not changing a thing in our world. But like I said, we are trying to leave politics out of this.

We need to stop looking at things as political parties, and start looking at them as human beings. It is only as human beings can we begin to really shape a peaceful world. If we as the United States of America begin to rally as human beings, letting go of our political ties, other parts of the world may begin to do so as well, and we may actually begin to see a change in policies all over the world.

Coming full circle, this is why separating a group like the LCPJ, which is supposed to be above politics, would be a step in the wrong direction. Once the LCPJ becomes only those who believe they are "the only true anti-war group" another group will form. Then when someone or some parts of that group does not like something done in that group, another group will form, until pretty soon everyone is left standing by themselves not really sure how to go about letting their beliefs be heard.

This isn't a hard concept to understand. Many people, those of us who are trying to keep the LCPJ and other groups like it alive, understand that we must rise above politics and begin to talk about peace, rather then fight about war.

As John Lenin said, maybe I'm a dreamer. But I really really hope I'm not the only one. I truly believe I'm not. I'm asking everyone to join us, until finally the world can truly be as one, one people, instead of a thousand and one political parties.

I hope everyone who agrees with me reads this, understands it, and tries to make it a policy where they come from. Otherwise I guess we are all doomed, and those who are pro-war, pro-money, and pro-big business will win, and we don't' want that. Do we?

Why We Are Loosing, Part I

I haven't been talking about the drama that is going on in the group that I have been involved in, the Lancaster Coalition for Peace and Justice (LCPJ), because frankly I tried to stay out of it. The truth of the matter is I believed if I ignored it, I thought it would all quietly go away. But guess what, it hasn't, it has only escalated. If you live in Pennsylvania, you may have heard of the third party candidate for Representative to Congress, John Murphy. This is an email he put on the LCPJ list serve. I will explain my disgust in part two of this blog. For now, please just read, and form your own opinions. And for those of you who truly know me, you may think that I agree with Murphy, that is until you read part two. So read on:


Friends,

I'll post a series of articles written by progressives, Greens, leftists and Libertarians which can form the basis for a critical, as opposed to a doctrinaire, examination of the Democratic Party's policies now and over the last 40 years. This can serve as a point of departure for a teach-in type forum to help the anti-war coalition stay focused on being anti-war instead of pro-Democrat. Hopefully we can schedule a forum at the next meeting of the LCPJ.

In Solidarity,

John

Here's the first article:

THE DEMOCRATS AND THE SLAUGHTERHOUSE
Head for the Exits, Now!
By ALEXANDER COCKBURN
Imagine a steer in the stockyards hollering to his fellows, "We need a phased withdrawal from the slaughterhouse, starting in four to six months. The timetable should not be overly rigid. But there should be no more equivocation." Back and forth among the steers the debate meanders on. Some say, "To withdraw now" would be to "display weakness". Others talk about a carrot and stick approach. Then the men come out with electric prods and shock them up the chute.
The way you end a slaughter is by no longer feeding it. Every general, either American or British, with the guts to speak honestly over the past couple of years has said the same thing: the foreign occupation of Iraq by American and British troops is feeding the violence.
Iraq is not on the "edge of civil war". It is in the midst of it. There is no Iraqi government. There are Sunni militias and Shia militias inflicting savagery on each other in the awful spiral of reprisal killings familiar from Northern Ireland and Lebanon in the 1970s. Iraq has become Chechnya, headed into that abyss from the day the US invaded in 2003. It's been a steep price to inflict on the Iraqi people for the pleasure of seeing Saddam Hussein die abruptly at the end of a rope.
If the US is scheduled for any role, beyond swift withdrawal, it certainly won't be as "honest broker", lecturing fractious sectarians on how to behave properly, like Teacher in some schoolhouse on the prairie. It was always been in the US interest to curb the possibility of the Shia controlling much of Iraq, including most of the oil. By one miscalculation after another, precisely that specter is fast becoming a reality. For months outgoing ambassador Zalmay Khalilzad tried to improve the Sunni position, and it is clear enough that in its covert operations the US has been in touch with the Sunni resistance.
If some Sunni substitute for Saddam stepped up to the plate the US would welcome him and propel him into power, but it is too late for such a course. As Henry Kissinger said earlier this week, the war is lost. This is the man who -- if we are to believe Bob Woodward's latest narrative -- has been advising Bush and Cheney that there could be no more Vietnams, that the war in Iraq could not be lost without humiliating consequences for America's status as the number # 1 bully on the block. When Kissinger says a war is lost, you can reckon that it is.
Democrats, put in charge of Congress next January by voters who turned against the war, are now split on what to do. The 80 or so members of the House who favor swift withdrawal got a swift rebuff when Steny Hoyer won the House Majority leader position at a canter from Jack Murtha, humiliating House majority whip Nancy Pelosi in the process. But there are still maneuvers to have Murtha capture a significant role in brokering the rapid exit strategy he stunned Washington by advocating a year ago.
Next came Senator Barack Obama of Illinois, who never opens his mouth without testing the wind with a supersensitive finger to test the tolerance levels of respectable opinion. In Chicago on Monday he said there are no good options left in Iraq, but that it "remains possible to salvage an acceptable outcome to this long and misguided war."
This time Obama plumped for the "four to six months" option for "phased redeployment", though the schedule should not be "overly rigid", to give--so the senator said -- commanders on the ground flexibility to protect the troops or adapt to changing political arrangements in the Iraqi government. Then there followed the familiar agenda for America as stern, disinterested broker: "economic pressure" should be applied to make Shiites, Sunnis and Kurds sit down and forge a lasting peace. "No more coddling, no more equivocation."It sounds great as a clip on the Evening News, provoking another freshet of talk about Obama as presidential candidate. Substantively it means absolutely nothing. What "economic pressure" is he talking about, what "coddling", in ruined, looted Iraq? It's all the language of fantasy.
The only time reality enters into Obama's and Democrats' foreign policy advisories is when the subject of Israel comes up. Then there's no lofty talk about "No more coddling", but the utterly predictable green light for Israel to do exactly what it wants--which is at present to reduce Gaza to sub-Chechnyian levels and murder families in Beit Hanoun: this is a Darfur America really could stop but instead is sponsoring and cheering on, to its eternal shame.
The Palestinians are effectively defenseless, even as the US Congress cheers Israel on. What political Washington cannot yet quite comprehend is that Iraq is not Palestine; cannot be lectured and given schedules. America is not controlling events in Iraq. If the Shia choose to cut supply lines from Kuwait up to the northern part of the country, the US forces would be in deep, deep trouble. When the Democrats take over Congress in January, they should vote to end funding for anything in Iraq except withdrawing US forces immediately. If they don't, there's nothing but downsides, including without doubt a Third Party peace candidacy that could well cost them the White House in 2008, or--who knows--the return of Al Gore as the peace candidate, now that Russ Feingold has quit the field. Perhaps that's what Obama was trying to head off.

I'm Terrified To Go To Bed

I don't know what I'm doing writing this. I should be in bed. But if I just keep writing in between IM's with a friend maybe I will somehow get up the courage to face going to bed.

That's right, I'm scared to go to bed. This isn't nightmares; I don't think I've ever had a nightmare besides the tripping I did after being pumped full of ketamine (yes, for all the drug-heads out there, I was in a k-hole. I think people that do it outside of a hospital where they do it to get rid of extremely painful pain is stupid. I think using most drugs is stupid. Although my jury is still out on the use of medical Maryjane). The problem is that I believe the RSD has gone into my lungs. It's either that, or one of the medications I am taking is causing me to have shortness of breath. It might be the Lyrica, which if it is it would really suck b/c the lyrica is the one thing that is actually helping.

God this is horrible. And the more I think about it the more scared I am. Think about this: I'm physically scared to go to bed. Not scared like you are kinda nervous going on to a roller coaster but you go on anyway, but the kind of fear that makes you run to your parents and ask them to take it all away.

God this sux. I just hope M. stays awake enough to talk to me until I'm at least a little bit tired. I don't know why I started writing this b/c really there's not much to say. This is about it: I'm terrified to go to bed. Bloody hell, someone help me.

Blessed be.

When I wrote my blog about my family, I at first thought that I was going to talk about the reasons all of my family bothered me. But then the story about N. got to be so long that I wanted to keep the complaining about other parts of my family to another blog. Now as I'm writing this I realize that I'm not going to write an entire blog about what all the members of my family do wrong, because that's not what this blog is about. This blog is supposed to be my own personal diary, where I write the daily things that are going on in my life. Sometimes the things in my life can be good things. I'm not about to turn this blog into a bitch fest. My life isn't all bad, there are some days that are really really good; the days where I love my family and friends and there's nothing to bitch about.

Today isn't one of those days. For most of the day, I thought it was going to be pretty empty of events. I thought I wasn't going to write in this blog. Then, as my dad was putting chicken stock into the stuffing we are having for Thanksgiving, I said:

"Do you have to do that?" (Writers note: I don't know if I have talked about being a vegetarian on here, but there you go, I'm a vegetarian, so that's why I asked my dad if he had to put the stock into the stuffing. I like stuffing, and really do believe you can make good food without meat in it. My dad doesn't always make a meal without meat in it, even though I put up a list of foods I eat that are vegetarian that are also healthy, because he doesn't think I eat healthy enough. So when he made rice that actually tasted really good, I was happy he had made a vegetarian dish). To which my dad replied:

"This is how I always do it, I also put chicken stock in the rice the other day"

I was pissed. "Why would you do something like that?" I said to him "It doesn't matter anyway," he said "you eat cheese and eggs."

Now, I may offend some vegans when I say this, but to me eating chicken and eating eggs are two entirely different thing. I don't like the idea of something living being slaughtered. Maybe if I actually went out in the woods and killed and actually worked for my own meal, I would eat it, but the way cows are horded into the killing machine (I don't know what it's called, so I'm calling it that) to me is wrong. An egg was never living.

I don't remember the exact words my dad said to this, if really anything important, but that's not the point. My mom pointed out that it might have been an honest mistake, that he completely forgot about my being a vegetarian. If that were true, and he just would have said something like "Oh A. I'm sorry I completely forgot" I would have said it was fine and just let it go. But that's not what he said. He basically told me that I need the nutrients anyway and that since I eat eggs it should be ok.

My mom also said that my dad gets so frustrated at things that he sometimes takes it out on me. But it doesn't seem like sometimes. This goes back to the fact that I'm the only sister at home; and the sister that's home gets to deal with all the bad moods from the shit that the other sisters do. It just seems like my dad is constantly taking his frustrations out on me. And my dad seems to get frustrated very easily.

And I understand why my family gets frustrated, especially right now with everything that is going on with N. But with my dad, it's different. When my mom gets frustrated, we just avoid the topic. Every now and then she'll bark out something, but other then that my mom generally keeps the frustrations inside, taking a glass of wine and watching law and order so she calms down. My mom in a bad mood today when I called her but she STILL was able to take the news that my dad and I were fighting again with grace, thinking about it while she was on her way home after I hung up the phone and realizing that I was right.

Why can't my dad do that? And why does he constantly do whatever he wants to do without any regard to other people! He does that sooo often, but he actually does that to my mom more then me.

The thing about my dad and I is that we have almost the same personality. We both can stare off into space and not listen to any body else that's talking, and we both sometimes do what we want to do before anyone else. My mom says that happens in a lot of families, that the parent and child who have the same kind of personalities fight the most. She says this is why her and N. fight so often. If there are other people who read this and agree with what my mom is saying, please either put a comment in here or if you know me email or IM me. If neither of these things are an option, then I'll find out if it's true from other people.

Hopefully the next time I write on here I will have good news. But until we meet again, I hope everyone has a good night, and a Happy Thanksgiving!

"I just want to know why"

My mom always tells people that the first time I tried going to college, I had a nervous breakdown. But that's not the truth. The truth of the matter is that I tried to kill myself in the middle of the college grounds. After I went home, my parents told me that I would have to go to a mental institution near where I live. It was one of the hardest weeks of my life. The reason I got through it was not the doctors or the medication or the sessions I had to go through. Far from it, those god awful sessions did nothing for me. What got me through that week were the people that were there with me. One guy, and I don't remember his name, had tried to commit suicide in front of the woman who was supposed to be his bride. He did it because the bride left him for the photographer. I thought then and I still think that is one of the most horrible things you can ever do to a person. One day when we went to session he told us that his ex-fiance' told him that she and the photographer would pay for the bills he was sure to endure when he came home. Talk about adding insult to injury. At one point I said to him "do you need a hug" and he said "I just want to know why".

Why. We ask this so many times in our lives that to try to count the number would take even the greatest math professor a life time to figure out. We ask our parents why they tell us to do things. We ask god why, we ask our friends why. We even ask complete strangers why.

I lost my job today, and I feel I don't need to ask why. I feel like it is all my fault, and there's nothing more that needs to be said. But my parents and everyone else that I have talked to said that it's the fault of the people who gave me the job. You see I had training for two and a half days (Thursday, Friday, and part of a class today) before they told us that we would be taking a test that would determine if we could stay in the training program. Everyone keeps telling me that it's the fault of the company. I don't know. Seems to me they wouldn't give the test if they thought everyone would fail it. I guess I'll never know. I might be able to call the trainer tomorrow. I could even sit in on a class, I mean I have the phone number. Nah, that wouldn't be worth it. Everyone would just tell me how wonderful it was to be in class with me and that they hoped to see me around. What a crock of shit. The training was in a phone conference, so any chance I might have to "see them around" would be lost anyway as I have no idea what any of these people look like. And when it comes to how wonderful it was to have class with me I barely said three words, and when I did it was to ask a question. We didn't know each other anymore then you know the person who gives you a courtesy call. Like I said, it's a crock of shit.

I just want to know why, you just want to know why on some other things. We are all just standing around wondering why. Maybe someday someone will give us the answer. And then again maybe someone will tell us what I truly believe: it doesn't matter why; it just is. The goddess is just there to help us along in our quest to understand ourselves as we work towards a better tomorrow, if not for other people then at least for ourselves.

I say stop wondering why, and wonder why not.

"I love my family, I love my family, I love my family..." somehow if I don't keep thinking this over and over again I wonder if I will go off the deep end. At 23, you'd think that by now I'd know how to tell my parents to go to hell. Lots of my friends have told me to do that; just tell my parents where they can go and leave.

But it's not that easy. I don't have a cent to my name, I'm disabled, and frankly I'm the type of person who just doesn't do that. I know I love my family. I do. I'm just over tired and lonely and god knows what else. I'm worried about my job and worried about my sisters...

I guess I don't really talk about my sisters on here because if I don't look at it I can almost forget it's happening. I really should talk about it though. I talk about everything else that's in my face, so why not this? Maybe I should start at the beginning.

My mom and my sister have always had a volatile relationship. Every morning when my sister was in Junior High they would get in a fight. My sister would swear that the pony tail she had put in had a bump in it (trust me when I say there never was), and when no one would agree with her would rip (and that's in italics because she didn't just rip it out she ripped it out) the hair thing out of her hair and attempt to do it all over again. This would go on for five or six hair do's till my sister finally left with her pony-tail looking exactly like it did the first time. Trust me when I say this is not a way to wake up every morning.

Then there was high school. My mom and my sister (N.) would constantly fight. It almost seemed like the fight never ended, it was just put on pause while N. was at school or asleep. Almost every time N. would want to go out there was a fight. My only reprieve from this was school, because my bed room and her's are connected by a wall. Then there was the day the noise stopped, and all there was was crying.

N. was supposed to work for my parents, who at that time ran their own catering business. About 7pm or so that night I got a phone call that my sister was coming home, she had freaked out in the bathroom. When she came home, she had what I call the look on her face. I can't describe it, and I don't' know if I want to. It's just an awful combination of sadness and utter hatred for everyone around her. That night when I went to bed I didn't hear N. and my mom fighting. All I heard was N. on the phone telling the person on the other end to "take me away...please please take me away...".

At school the next day I tried to ignore the stomach ache from worry and sadness that was plaguing me. When I got home and my sister wasn't there, I asked my mom where she was she said the phrase that I have come to hate. "Honey N.'s gone" she said.

Gone? What do you mean gone. My voice became shrill. "She went to her boy friends house and she says she doesn't want to come home" My mom said. My dad and my uncle went to go get her. They brought her home, the same look plastered on her face.

As it turned out my sister had tried every drug there is out there. The only thing she hadn't done, and maybe it saved her life I don't know, was needles. N. had always been afraid of needles, whether someone else putting them in her or putting them in herself. I would later find out that her "drug of choice" is cocaine.

N. would end up spending about a week (I'm not exactly sure how long she stayed, it's not a detail I hold on to. Frankly I'd like to forget the whole thing. Wouldn't you?) in the hospitals psychiatric ward. I remember when I went to see her and gave her a present, like she was in to get her tonsils out, I don't know. Maybe back then I was just plain gullible to actually believe that she would get better and stay off the stuff. There are still times when I'm just as gullible. Sigh...I wish I didn't have to be.

For a few years at least, things seemed to be better. N. graduated from high school and was working for my parents. I was so thankful. Maybe that's why I didn't notice when it started happening again. It's almost like N. crying in the bed room was somehow better, like at least then I was able to protect myself. So when I was supposed to go away to Europe with American Music Abroad (look it up if you never heard of it) the summer I was 16 I didn't think I had anything to worry about at home. Still, there were clues.

The night before I was set to go and practice with the group (like I said, if you've never heard of it, search for it!) I got in a fight with my dad. Like she has many times before my mom got in the middle of it. I wouldn't have noticed anything different had my mother not said something like "why are you yelling at her??? she's the only one who seems to care about us around here". And when we were supposed to give our farewell concert (look it up!) and my sister had that same look on my face, I should have put two and two together. It's just that look feels and looks kinda different when N. smiles. Even if the smile is fake.

I didn't think much about it until we got to our fifth country (grrr....for the last time, I said look it up!), and a horrible feeling creeped over me. Right in the middle of a concert I looked up at the sky and knew, something was wrong at home. The friends I had made on the trip kept telling me not to worry about it, that everything was fine, but I told them that they would see, something was wrong. It's not that I wanted something to be wrong, I just knew it was.

My parents tried to put on happy faces when they picked me up, yet I could feel the vibe. On the way home I kept expecting them to turn down the radio and say "we've got to talk" or something. I kept probing them for answers, but they kept insisting that everything was fine. That was until I got home and showed them their anniversary present (I was away on their anniversary). "You're the only one who got us anything" my mom said with tears in her eyes. "What about S.?" I asked, the nervous feeling settling deep in my stomach. "Nope." My mom said. "Well what about N.?" My mom's face turned a gray and I'm sure so did mine, and she said "honey N.'s gone" "What? "Why!" I said, tears streaming down my face. "We found out your sister is doing drugs" my mom said. "And I told her she had to choose between the drugs and her family, that I would help her get better, but she had to throw away the drugs. She choose the drugs." I shouldn't have been mad at my mom, but I was "But she could die out there!" I screamed. I was so angry at her. I would later learn what an awful decision that was for my mom, and I later understood why she did it. But at that point I was pissed. N. ended up getting help from my grandmother on my mom's side, something that made my mom extremely angry, as she felt very much left all by her self with the decision. Like I said, I later understood that anger.

I'm not going to go over every time this has happened, but I will talk about the most recent. About a month ago my sister swallowed a whole bunch of pills. She had been taking drugs again, and claimed that she really did want to die. I'm not sure I believe her. She again stayed in a mental institution, but since leaving has refused to get counseling. Councilors have told her she should to AA meetings, but she won't go, and insists she is not an alcoholic. I used to agree with her. Now I'm not so sure.

For about a week things seemed to be on their first step to be getting better. N. had found a job, and claimed that she liked it. Today I found out she quit that job. She claims the people there were too happy. And this is where I get angry. Every job she has ever had she has left, claiming it was someone else's fault. The people were too happy, too sad, too mean, whatever...she always leaves. The only thing she seems to love to hold on to are boy friends that aren't good for her. I know I told you about that, so I won't go into it.

While N. was working at her new job I told my dad that I wanted to do Thanksgiving. When he told me he wanted to skip it, that he felt there was nothing to be thankful for. I love the holidays and begged my mom to do it anyway. Now, even though I love the holidays just as much, I can't say I don't agree with him.

I was going to talk about the rest of my family, but I had to fill in all this information first. So now you know one of the reasons I'm always depressed, especially lately. Hope I didn't depress you to much in the process of getting my feelings out, though talking about them always seems to help a little bit. Thanks again for listening, even if the only thing that is listening is the computer. I'll talk to everyone soon. Till then, Blessed be.

I've Been Working on the...

Telephone? It sounds dumb, when people work on the railroad they are actually building the machine, their work is the railroad itself, so if your working on the telephone, you must be someone who actually builds the phone. That's until you get into the world of phone conferencing...

No, I don't work for the phone company or actually build phones, but when I say I'm "going to work" all I'm really doing is picking up the phone and dialing a number. I could be stark naked and still get my work done, all I have to do is show up. You'd think it would be easy wouldn't you? But then you add in the work that the actual job entails...

As it turns out, I will be taking phone calls from people who need IRS tax forms. No, this does not mean I will know how to do your taxes. All that it really means is I know how to find what form you need to fill out. The rest is up to you. Again, it might sound easy, but if you go into my actual work place (the internet), and look up all the different types of forms I could be handing out, and think of how many different kinds of people, companies, and families there are in this country, and you got a big job.

Sigh...and I thought the training was going to be fun. I thought it would be filled with people who knew the internet by the back of their hands, and could fly through training. Well that's not the story in the least. These are the stupidest people I have ever met when it comes to computers. We spent half an hour trying to do one thing! Then because we were FORTY FIVE MINUTES behind schedule, we had to do homework.

So I am exhausted. I hate feeling like this, like you could just fall into bed at any given moment. It's nuts. I thought I was going to say more, but it looks like that's all I gotta say! Alright? Alright. I'll talk to everyone later!

Blessed be!

Haning Out With P, J, And J

I have so much to talk about I don't even know if I'm going to finish it all tonight. You thought my blogs were long before? Ha! Just you wait. I don't write long blogs on purpose, but a lot has happened in the past two days. That's what I get for not writing in my blog yesterday or the day before, though Wednesday's blog would have been really long anyway, which attests to how long this blog will be today...

You might remember that I was going to see J. again on Wednesday. I also saw my friend P. She picked me up from hood and the three of us went to Denny's for P.'s "pre-birthday brunch". I knew it was going to be weird putting P. and J (ha! I just need a B. and it would be P. B. and J! LOL), but I didn't know how funny they would be together. I honestly thought (and P., don't hate me for thinking this, but since you know the whole story with J., I wasn't sure how you were going to react) P. wasn't going to talk to him at all. That, or she would be completely uncomfortable by the whole situation and keep looking from J. to me, wondering what kind of sick people would do what we do. But she seemed to genuinely have a good time! Half way through brunch I finally relaxed, and let the three of us be our usual cooky selves. Trust me when I say that hanging out with the three of them was truly an adventure, from getting lost on the way to pick J. up to talking religion to...oh I can't even remember what we talked about but trust me, a good time was had by all.

Speaking of a good time being had by all, after brunch P. took us to J.'s friend J.'s house. Now this is going to be confusing....well, you know who's who by what happened. Talk about being nervous. J. had told me that since J. has Cerebral Palsy, she hates talking about pain and illness of any kind, so not to bring up RSD at all. Well things couldn't be further from the truth. J. is a very sweet girl, who wants nothing more then to be loved and have people understand her. Actually, she sounds a lot like me. Still, going there I was really nervous. I was even more nervous when I saw how dirty her house is. I knew that the dirt had to be caused by the fact that J. can do nothing to help it, and her husband works long hours half the day and sleeps the other half. It can not be easy to be her.

So when things actually started to relax, I couldn't help but be surprised. I hope that didn't register on my face, because I was trying to ignore my feelings as much as possible. Well that really didn't happen at all and instead of trying to ignore the obvious sexual tension in the room, we simply went for it, the three of us kissing, licking, and generally feeling various areas of the human body. J. (girl J.) and I didn't do anything bellow the belt, but J. and I, knowing each other much more then I knew J. (J. and J. know each other then I know either of them), asked J. (wow, this is confusing!) if we could use her shower. J., feeling much more relaxed then when I came in, allowed us the pleasure. And boy, it was a pleasure. For the first time in my life, I was actually able to get J. off; something I have been trying to do for a long time. I must say that it used to be that I thought the site of a man getting off was a very ugly thing. This is even after I had sex for the first time. But getting J. off was completely different. He looked beautiful, like there was nothing in the world that could touch him. We both got wet, wanting to know if it was true what they say, that everyone looks better wet. Trust me when I say it's completely true. Still, all good things must come to an end, and I must confess that my stupid brain showed up at the most inopportune time.

I don't know if I will ever believe I deserve to be loved. I allow my parents to love me because they are my parents, they are supposed to do that and their love is something I don't' have to earn. Everyone keeps telling me that I don't have to earn anyone else's love either, but that doesn't stop my brain from thinking it. The other thing that my brain likes to think is that if a friend has another friend I am automatically somehow lower then the friend. This doesn't mean that I don't want my friends to have friends. Far from it. I want my friends to be as happy as they can be, and find it in whoever or whatever they want. I just have a hard time believing that anyone would want to hang out with me, or make concrete plans with me, which would mean that if another friend would want to hang out with them they would have to say another time. I will never cut into time a friend of mine is having with another friend, but because I believe I don't deserve friends, it seems logical that any friend of my friend could cut into our time at any well...time (talk about confusing!). My stupid mind also thinks that if a friend does some of the exact same thing with me as with another friend, that somehow the time they are doing that thing with me is somehow less enjoyable then it was with their friend.

Take anything sexual for instance. If I am sexual with a friend and they are also sexual with another friend, be it their wife or any other purpose, somehow it seems that having any kind of sex with me isn't enjoyable. In my heart of hearts I know this isn't true, I mean look at how J. reacted to my getting him off! Still, my stupid mind rages on...

Which is why I kept asking J. "do you do this with other friends"? Later he asked if that was because maybe if he didn't do that with me, I would leave. HA! Not even close. If we didn't do that together, if we never touched each other again, I would still love him just as much as I do now. The shere fact that HE wouldn't leave if we never touched each other again makes it an even more wonderful feeling. The fact that he simply enjoys my company and could just talk my ear off makes me experience such a wonderful feeling that sometimes it feels better then sex. HE LIKES ME FOR ME! YEYEYEYEYEYEYEYEYEY! I hope some day he reads this, and gets some comfort from it. He can even print it out and hang it in his room (wait a minute, scratch that, I wouldn't want his wife to read it. Maybe if he kept it in his wallet?) as an affirmation that it's true, so that he'll know I'll be their for ever and ever!

Which is his fear. He believes that if I find another person who I have sex with and love as deeply as I do him, I will forget all about it. I explained it to him like this: Sometimes when I get a boy friend or girl friend (well, that hasn't happened yet, but maybe!) I get so excited at the idea of having someone that is only mine, I forget everything else in life. When I was in school I couldn't pay attention and my grades would go down, and at home I would find myself tripping over things on the floor. Does this mean that the school wasn't something I dearly needed and loved or that I would never pay attention to where I step again? NO! I told him that if this ever happened, all he would have to do is pick up the phone and say"hey? remember me? I'm your best friend? you haven't been calling me and it's scaring me" and I would begin to remember that there are other things that are just as important as that new love. J. would actually, in addition to hearing the sound of my voice again, be improving my life! My grades would go back up, and I would kick the stuffed animal I kept falling over out of the way!

My point is this: I will never, ever stop loving J. or anyone of my other friends. Sometimes the style of the relationship will change. The fact that J. is now living in California means it has to change, means that we must keep in contact by the phone or email or we will loose each other. Now there's a scary thought.

I think I will end their and talk about my job after the second day! YEY! I HAVE A JOB! I want to write about the first day of training at my 43things site!

STUPID! That's what my head is. Stupid, stupid, stupid. The greatest friendship in the world and I question it. Why does my brain do this to me? I don't question most of my other friendships, but it seems the more a person knows me, the less I believe I deserve to know them. The more that my mind says to run, run away fast, and don't stop till you can't feel the love anymore. Except that isn't possible. It is impossible to forget that you love someone, unless you really do fall out of love. But I'm not talking about that, I'm talking about running away from someone I love because the depth of our love feels too deep. I'm never going to get married, because I always say that to the people I am with, and they always leave. J. says he'll never leave, and the proof that I love him is because even at our worst times, when I have told him I wanted to die or when he turned into his alternate being, W., I stayed with him. I told him that's what friends are for, and he says exactly, and he won't leave because of the same reason.

We have a very physical relationship but he claims that even if he could never touch me again he would still be with me. The problem is, a lot of people have done that. A lot of people have stayed around the first one or two or three times when I pulled this crap, but after a while, they all leave. I don't know how to convince him of that. LOL, I guess he won't believe it until he leaves, which he claims he's never going to, so he'll never believe it. I wonder if the other people who told me they'd never leave, that told me they were different then everyone else who ever told me that and they would stay for ever and ever. I wish I could ask them that. I wish I could say "you know, you promised you'd never leave me. You said you were the one guy in the world who wouldn't, and yet you did, so do you believe that everyone eventually leaves now?". Sigh...but you know what, J. has lived it (that's J.'s saying for he's walked the talk, he tells people that they shouldn't sing their promises, they should live it). He has friends who have dumped him, stepped on his heart and left it for the wolves. And did he leave? Nope, because he lives it.

Sigh...he makes me feel so good too. We made out in a janitor's closet at Hood, one that could latch on the inside, and lets just say we hit second base and nearly kept on running. He says he hasn't gone their with many girls. I have a hard time believing that too. J. is a very sexual person just like I am, could he really be with someone and not do anymore or see anymore then some boob grabs? Still, like he says, he's never given me a reason not to believe him, and that's really how I test things.

Stupid brain won't shut up, and I need it to. J. says the only reason I can't get it to shut up is because I believe that I can't....sigh....that's because I really believe that most, if not all, of the problems I have can not be fixed. They may get a little better, the pain of RSD or the pain of thinking I'm no good may subside, but I don't believe they will ever go away for good. There, I said it, so people should stop asking me if I "still" have RSD, or why I hurt, it's because IT WILL NEVER GO AWAY! I've gotten it through my head, now get it through yours. Till next time, me and mys stupid brain are going to go. Hope someone reads this and understands. I know that some people will read it and tell me it's not true, but I've heard that all before, I don't want to hear it again. No more pie crust promises (Don't tell me you don't know where that's from. HELLO! MARY POPPINS! little boy who I can't remember his name: "Mary Poppins, will you promise to stay with us forever" Poppins: That's a pie crust promise, easily made easily broken. I'll stay until the wind changes). So till next time dear blog, have a good night, and blessed be.

Fun On The Computer

"It's a nice drive down here" My grand father says to me, I guess trying to start a conversation. I always hate it when people say that. It's a nice drive means there's nothing left to talk about so I'll try to talk about the leaves on trees. It's kinda like saying the weather is nice on a date, it gets a bored "yea" and the conversation ends. "Yea it is," I tell him. I don't like to rag on my grandfather. It's really really great that he is bringing me down to Hood, my almumater. Now that feels weird. Saying you have an almamater is like a father trying to convince his son to go to the same school as him, when really, all the son wants to do is go to fashion school and parade his big gay self all over the cat walk...

Sigh...I'm sorry...I'm really really bored and I have a lot to talk about but frankly I need to take up some time while my little sib (it's like a mentor ship program for new students, every Junior at Hood gets one) is at gym. I was going to use my instant messenger, but I don't remember my password. Like an idiot, I always for get those type of things. The save password always looks so tempting doesn't it? Well not anymore bub, not me, I'm at least going to write my password down in a notebook before I push that button again. I have one now, but I hadn't thought of that brilliant plan until after I had my screen name for AIM all picked out. Speaking of screen names, I should tell all of you about last night...

I don't know if I've ever talked about being bi on here before. I know I've talked about it on 43things (by the way, everyone should check out that web site. It is fabulous). Anyway, I'm bi, so deal with it! LOL ANYWAY Last night I was online and a girl who used to go to Hood with me and was in Fighting "4" Us' first college club came online. At first the conversation was innocent enough. That was until we started talking about looks. One of us mentioned to the other that they thought the other was cute, probably the me, but we won't get into why that is will we! Anyway, when I first asked M. what she thought of my looks, she said she loves my fighter's spirit (I have a fighter's spirit? Go figure...) and really like my boobs. Well, besides the fact that I've never in my life been told that by a girl, something ran through my mind. "But what do you think of my face?" I asked. This is a constant worry of mine. Memories of people calling me Butherface want to keep anyone who thinks my face has any bad features away from me (Why does know one know what a Butherface is?? Sigh...it's right there in the spelling...but her face. Means exactly what it sounds like, bodies good, but her face isn't. Get it? good.). So when she told me that she has a hard time telling me if I have a beautiful face because the obvious look of pain in my eyes and my sucked in face always worried her, it didn't feel too good. I told her it was fine, only later telling her that it wasn't fine, that I it really scares me that she thinks of me like that. I don't want anyone to pitty me. I just want people to be friends with me. So I messed up big time and basically accused her of a pity fuck (You'll understand later what I mean) when that is so not what I meant to say. I meant to say that to me, pain equals ugly. Maybe it doesn't for other people, but for me pain is an ugly ugly thing. We talked about this for awhile, and then she said that she didn't want to pursue a physical relationship because she was afraid she would hurt me. Then I told her the one secret that has kept me having boy friends, and when I don't have a boy friend, it has kept my sexual frustrations at bay: when I'm horny, somehow the pain of RSD goes away. I don't know what it is or why it happens, maybe it has something to do with the nerves working faster or something, but stroke me a little bit where it counts, and all the pain goes bye bye. Trust me when I say that this is a very good thing. Well when I told her that, and all cards were on the table, things got heated, and I don't mean in a bad way...

Yes, we had a full-fledged-2.5 hour-cyber sex party. At first it was just the two of us, (online) kissing, touching, and generally enjoying each other company. But then M. says "my lover T. is jealous of us, he wants to join". My mouth hit the floor. But after I carefully put it back into place, I said this:

"she (me) smiles and puts her head on M.'s belly. Already in a daze, and knowing there was nothing bad about what she was doing, she didn't see the problem in adding one more person, so she put her hand out and beckoned to T. with her crooked finger."

T. came in, all shy and things, but trust me, he wasn't shy for long. I hate to brag, but I think I was the person who knew how to describe things the best. I mean look at what I wrote on the last entry? By the end of the night, the three of us shared an orgy that felt so real all three of us came. Well, I'm pretty sure T. came, M. and I got pretty damned close. I know you are wondering why we didn't go all the way, but I was in the office of my parents house and she was in the common room of her college! We didn't get a chance to actually touch ourselves! Well that's not true, I touched my breasts a few times but I didn't have the guts to go all the way right there. That, and my parents and sisters sometimes use that computer.

You're probably wondering where in that whole thing I accused M. of pity sex. Not that I want to relive that whole thing again, but I guess I should put it on here for prosperity's sake. At one point I was (in computer land) sitting with my legs straddling M., and I decided to take my bra off. Out of no where came this sudden awful thought: "Oh my god," I thought, "What all she sees in me is a body???" Though honestly at that point I don't know if I thinking those exact words, but suddenly I got scared. So I IMed the following "she unclips her bra, but suddenly feels self conscious and covers her boobs up with her arms." Well at one point I had told M. that I think she's beautiful, and, when I took off my bra she said "Gorgeous.". Well in my stupid mind, that was it, I was thinking that all she wanted was my body. So I told her so. She got understandably mad until we talked things out and she told me that to her pain isn't ugly, it's just pain. At that point I began to relaxed, but it was then that she basically told me that my never ending determination to live life no matter how much pain I come into is attractive. That what she liked about me was my fighting spirit. I also wondered what would happen if I really was there, until she said; "if you were here I'd be holding you in my arms right now". Of course my stupid mind didn't believe her, so I said "really?" and she something like (please remember that these conversations are taken the best that I can remember them, and that is why even in the conversations I am telling you, they seem to be edited. Believe me, if I could remember exactly what she said at that point, I wouldn't hide it); "yes, I always hold my lovers when they are in pain". So of course I was ok after that, and we continued on, eventually inviting T. in and having our orgy.

And then at the end of the orgy, even after T. left, we (remember, this is all in cyber land [at least for now!]) held each other and talked. And when I needed to leave, she told me that she wanted me to stay so that we could talk and play around in her arms and then she could "fall asleep with you in my arms". Wow. Did I feel great after that! Sigh...but alas, she is in Chicago. Although T. swears he is going to get us together one day so we can do it for real. Yey!

But I must go, I'm haning out at my little sib's dorm finally, after that long car ride. I'm going to be hanging out with a lot of friends (well three) in the next few days. I'll also be hanging with J. He knows how sexually frustrated I am, and he hasn't seen me since April, so he's just as frustrated. I'll tell you about it when I can! Till then, blessed be!

Spoken Fantasies

I just got off the phone with J. God...he makes me melt into a puddle of warm....well I'll tell it like this...

J. and I will not be ever having intercourse. That includes any kind of oral or anal sex. The only type of "oral sex" we do allow each other to do is to talk about what we'd like to do to each other. And, since I am going to see him either Tuesday, Wednesday, or both, we might just be able to actually live out what we want to do. So just so I can have it on those days when I don't talk to here is a description:

J. would start by standing behind me and kissing my neck. His hands, which I have always loved, will start to caress my breasts, slowly working the nipples till they are hard. Once he has my shirt off, he will let his hands softly caress my stomach (I love when guys stroke my stomach. It's not necessarily a turn on, but more a very relaxing thing. I would love if a guy first stroked my stomach before we did anything else. Maybe I can get J. to do that.). After I'm a good puddle on the floor, he will let his hands slowly come down on my hips and inside my legs (if you ever want to know about your partners favorite spot, you might want to try looking at astrology. Each sign has its own special spot that they liked to have caressed. Mine, being a Sagittarius, is my hips and thighs. I know that every one is turned on by their significant other touching that area, but not like this) and slowly working to the sweet spot. He won't spend a lot of time there, that's not the point. But allowing me to stretch out my back like a content cat and allowing us both to make a few noises is just as much fun.

Like I said...he makes me melt. And if reading that up there didn't make you melt, either somethings wrong with you, or you didn't experience it yet. Don't worry, you'll understand some day. Until then, have a good night, and blessed be :).

On My Pain And Hers

When I created this blog, I told myself that it wasn't going to just be about RSD, but about my life in general. But isn't that rule perpetuating the reason why I want a blog? Because so many people told me they were tired of hearing about my RSD, and tired of me complaining? Also, when the pain of RSD and the thoughts of the conference are swirling in my head, I can not help but to talk about it.

This is the first night in a long time that I can remember actually getting out of bed because the pain was so bad. The trouble is, the pain is in my hands! So even as I write this, I am making the swelling and discomfort worse. And yet what else am I supposed to do? Sit on a chair watching tv everyday that my hands swell? If I did that I would be on the sitting and watching tv even more then I do now, and I just can't do that.

I have said it before and I will say it again. I want to live damn it. Not just sit and rot while I watch the pain and swelling in my body get worse and worse. And that is what would happen. For in RSD, doing to little can cause just as much pain as doing too much.

This is one of those times when learning to accept the RSD is so hard. For I know that some of the swelling and pain is a result of my studying for the GRE, sewing, typing on the computer and living life in general. It is very hard for me to accept that some of my pain is kind of my fault. Not my fault in the fact that I got RSD, but my fault that I am making it worse. And yet, isn't that what K. was talking about? That saying it is your fault is wrong and keeps you from living life to the fullest? I'm pretty sure I'm right about that.

I must comment on something. At the conference there was a mother and daughter who claimed the daughter has RSD. Yet then the mother said something very interesting. She claimed, and the daughter agreed, that the pain and swelling of RSD only lasts from the beginning of September till the beginning of February. And my first thought is that's not RSD. I hate to tell someone that there RSD is all in their head, because that is what doctors and care givers in general try to tell all people with RSD, but frankly I have never in my life heard of such a thing, and neither had all the people at the conference, including K. who has had the disease since he was just a teenager and is now in his forties! He's talked to literally thousands of people with the disease, and never had heard of that. And as my mother said, what happens from September to around February? School starts. Has this girl been trying to get out of school all the years that she has claimed to have RSD? Or is there something about school that is so emotionally painful for her that she starts suffering from the pain of RSD? Another thought crosses in my mind that from September to February fall and winter come on, and cold hurts more people then those with RSD. Maybe she has raynods or something of this nature?

Either way, the fact that she says she has RSD will ultimately make it harder for those of us who do have RSD to convince many doctors that the pain is not all in our head. Her mother claims that her pain literally turns off completely in February, and turns on completely in September. If her pain can turn on and off like that, doctors may tell us, why can't yours? The girl is able to go skiing in and do other things that I wouldn't dream of doing with my disease, not only because it would most likely make it worse, but because while doing it I'd be in extreme pain. What does this girl do, wait till it turns to 12am on February first and say "Now I can go outside and be normal"? Lucky her, I wish I was in her shoes. All I would have to do is say "three more months till February" or something like that, and feel better! The doctors wouldn't really have to treat her, because well, come February first, they wouldn't have to worry about it anymore!

Well, I didn't mean to talk about this girl in the entire blog, but the swelling in my hands and feet make me very pissed off that this girls pain, or the idea that she says she's in pain, just turns off come February pisses me off so bad that I could...well I don't know what I could do. I wouldn't want to punch the girl...at least not till February rolls around. Perhaps if there is a summer conference I will ask her how she is feeling, and if she says fine, tell her that it must be nice to have pain that just turns off like that.

God! I can't get this girl out of my head now! I can't get the picture of her happily skiing while the rest of us RSDers stay inside, hoping that one day the snow and cold of winter will let up just a little so that we might be able to see a friend or even get out of bed. It pisses me off to the highest degree that I have to sit here not knowing if I'll ever be free of RSD pain and she just counts the months! I have heard of girls who's pain goes into their stomachs who must spend months in the hospital trying to get enough morphine in their system just so they can go home and sleep in their own beds. I wonder what this girl thinks of us? Does she think we are making up our pain in the months when she doesn't have hers?

Well these thoughts are making me much too angry, and typing on here is indeed making my hands swell more, or at least my right hand, as that is the hand that was already swollen to an insane degree. I think I will sit down stairs and watch tv and try to forget about the girl who will go skiing in March. I now hear K. telling us that we don't always have to have the highest level of acceptance, and then I remember that so long as we don't act on our intolerances and keep them in our head, we are all better off. This is a good thing, because if I could act out on these thoughts I just might. Thank god she doesn't live near me. I wonder what would happen if she tried to contact Fighting "4" Us? I can't turn her away because she claims to be in just as much pain as me. Yet I wonder if her helping the organization, if she ever did, would stop in the months that her pain stops?

I've got to stop thinking about this. Perhaps I will watch tv...at least it's much more entertaining then this. Till next time, I hope I have better news for you dear blog. And if not, I will just write on, for that is my prerogative. Again till next time have a good life, and blessed be.

A Snipit of Conversation

Have you ever put the thoughts into your brain that swirl into different voices and kinda played with them, sort of made a script about how they would talk. Cartoon creators do this all the time, for example the Simpsons has a classic line from Lisa's brain when Homer said something dumb. Her brain said "I know, I heard it to, just let it go. Here's some nice music for you to listen to." And her brain happily plays Bach or someone like that and Lisa's face resumes to one of contentedness. Notice what happens when Bart tells her she has to go to school. "Why...she says dreamily...I'm so much happier here..." Ok so I may have gotten episodes confused and she may have been thinking of something else when she said that but the point is that I think we all imagine the little voices in our heads. I order for me to explain my somewhat silly and content mood right now I will tell the story of what is going on in my head right now.

The night shift is just starting, and little green men bring in large cups of coffee to their desks when they notice the smug look on my face. "My my my," says one "doesn't she look happy today?" A woman in the corner shakes her head. This is the day conscience. She hasn't left yet on account of the phone call I just hung up with. "Yes she does look happy doesn't she? Damn it this happens every time she talks to him" "Oh, says the one, she's talked to J. recently has she?" "Just got off the phone" says conscience. "Why I'm not more insistent on making this go away I have no idea." "Oh come on," says the one. "How can we interrupt this happiness?" Day conscience sighs and shakes her head. "I suppose we can't," she says, yawning. "But since I'm leaving it's no longer my concern." "What's no longer your concern?" Two more people have walked into the room. "She just got off the phone with J." Day conscience says. Night conscience just shakes her head. "Why I'm not more insistent on making this go away I have no idea." Sexuality, the other person of the two that have just come in shakes her head happily. "Have you read this conversation?" She asks, turning to night conscience. "Not only can we not fight to let this go, we must fight to keep it alive!" "If only for your sake right sexuality?" Says night conscience. "No, for mine too." Says a voice. It's night feelings, coming in late, day feelings having left when the phone call turned to sex. "If I have to deal with this loneliness day in and day out, the least I should have is someone far away that I know is thinking about me."

This conversation will go on and on all night. It's one of the reason's I can never get enough sleep. I need to feel loved, is that so wrong? And frankly, I need to feel a sense of sexuality. And if the one place it's coming from is a man who is married, if he has permission to do it, I say I should do it. I'm not going to try to stop myself anymore.

So you've had a clue into my brain. What did you think? Some people think that if I found the right audience then I could write a book about my life. So I've been trying different styles of writing ever since. This one is alright, but I don't really think it's me. Maybe I should just stick to the one I have been on since the last paragraph, straight talking, no sugar coating or bull shitting about it. I honestly wish that more people read my blog. It would be interesting to know if more then one person actually thought I could make a book out of my life. Maybe if I dig around blogger world long enough I will find someone to comment back and forth with, and then my following will grow. Or maybe not. Well, till next time dear reader, readers, or voices in my head. And Blessed be

What RSD Is

I'm supposed to be studying for my GRE right now. I've been doing it for a few hours but in my mind a few hours more won't hurt. And I'm trying to push myself to understand and I'm trying to push my hand to write correctly....and it doesn't work. I have to read and reread questions in order to understand them. My mind seems to purposefully skip over words or change the meaning of words in my head. The pain in my arms even as I write this goes on and on, and somehow words that I have known since I was a very little girl are escaping me.

That's what RSD is. It's trying to live a normal life when your entire body is fighting against you. It's like you wanting a car to go left, but despite turning the wheel and pushing on the gas, all the car seems to want to do is go backwards. It' like a river that is supposed to go up stream being suddenly pulled by an unknown force in the other direction. That's what RSD is like.

And I know there are other diseases that function in much the same way. I know that J.'s body would be perfectly happy doing one thing, but his mind, be it because he's in another personality or because he's suddenly sad and he doesn't know why, goes completely the opposite direction. But in the case of RSD, things are completely the opposite. My mind says go one way and my body says "no way mind, not this time, it's my turn." and "you think you control pain? Well let's just see about that" and it turns on this unbearable pain that you have no idea where it came from and you have no idea how to stop it. And then...after a while...it gets worse...

In J.'s case after a while his body says "you know what, I give up, mind, you tell me where to go and I'll do it." And in mine, my mind says "you want to be in pain? Well fine...I can make up pain too." And that's when hell on earth begins. When your body and your mind start working together to make your life a living hell, you know your screwed.

And then they tell you that the way to get out of it is to accept it. They tell you that if you just agreed that it's there, but still went on with your life, you will be better. And the first thing that goes through your mind is that there's no fucking way on earth that you are ever going to be able to accept this. No fucking way.

And that's where I am now. I am still fighting the chance to throw away the paperwork that K. gave me and saying that there's no fucking way I can ever accept this. But then my mind reminds me that K. is not a doctor. Nor is he someone who doesn't understand the pain. He is someone who goes through the same pain you do, day in and day out. This is the side of me that wants to buy the book he was talking about. The side of me that wants to fight with him and say "yes, I can accept this disease". This is the side of me that believes if I start accepting the disease my mind will be able to help me live again.

I'm just so scared. It seems so much easier to go the other way. So much easier to just throw up my hands, lay in bed, and say screw it, it isn't going to get any better. But isn't that the idea I've fought every day of the past ten and a half years? Isn't that the reason I stayed in marching band even though my feet said I just can't take one more step? Yes, I think it's time. It's time to accept this disease and move on with my life, take my job and real get out their and rule the world. It's time. It's no longer time to fight, but time to accept while fighting. It's time.

This Thing Called RSD

So I'm trying to go through the process of accepting my pain and one of the things that the speaker at the conference suggested is to to externalize it, to give it a personality and to describe it. I want to do this, I really really do. I want to make a large painting of my RSD and hang it somewhere that everyone can see it. So there is a worksheet here in some of the paperwork that helps you to externalize your pain. I thought about writing it on the paper but the more I thought about it the more I realized that in a perfect world, not only would I accept my pain, but others would hear about it, really listen, understand it, and then accept that the pain is part of who I am. So here I go, trying to externalize my pain.

The first questions says, "If you could put your pain outside your body, what shape would it have". I guess that's an obvious first question isn't it, if something is externalized it has to have a shape. Umm...I've always thought of the pain in two ways: a burning fire, and the shape of a bolt of lightning. But as I think about it something else comes to mind: a snake, a big, ugly snake that has a deep voice and calls to you and tries to make you be it's slave. But I think I'm getting ahead of myself. Yes, I think my pain would be in the shape of a snake. I also have this idea of the snake taking over this perfectly happy body, this being that without the snake on top of it and inside of it would be very happy, beautiful even. Now there's something I haven't really thought of but I should. It came up a lot at the conference. One of the doctors that gave a speech seemed to be suggesting that chronic pain is there because it is showing a problem somewhere else. Could it be a physical sign of depression? I know I always dismiss that idea as something that is offensive, thinking that the person that was saying that was really saying the RSD is all in my head. But what if that's not it at all. What if the RSD is in fact a signal to depression, an arrow of sorts that says "hey! over here! something is wrong with this body!" In order to really know what it was pointing to at the time I guess I need to look at what was bothering me when I first got RSD, and what is bothering me now. Could the RSD be a symptom of low self esteem, which is something I have struggled with my entire life? But then if that's true then why doesn't everyone with a low self esteem have the same pain? Also if that's true, would someone with a good self esteem see a decrease in their pain? That woman seemed to think so. K. seems to think so as well, though the pain that he still suffers from is obvious. Now I've really gotten off the subject haven't I? Oh well, I think the point is just to get your mind going and asking questions about the pain, to really start talking to it and asking it, hey where did you come from and why are you here? It's not really a "why me?" sort of question but more of a trying to understand this thing in your body. So I guess to understand I should move on to the next question.

If you could put your pain outside your body, how big would it be? Well that would totally depend on the day. I mean, on those days when the pain is unbearable it would be huge, but then on the pain is not so bad it would be small. So then is it like an imaginary friend in that she or he can be as big or as small as you want it to be, but in this case it's not as you want it to be but it can be as big or as small as IT wants to be? More stuff to think about...

What texture would your pain have? I think it would be rough, rough as the rashes that sometimes come with having RSD. Maybe I'll make something about the painting I make sort of 3-D in affect, sort of like feeling the picture instead of just seeing it.

If your pain had a voice, what would it sound like? Now that's something that I've played with the idea over in my head. When I hear the voice of RSD it's always sinister...like "look what I can do to you ha ha ha". Well you can't really hear it from a blog but you know what I mean.

Sigh...all of a sudden I really don't feel good...I'm shaking and feel like I'm going to be sick to my stomach...I hate this illness...but then again I've got to stop hating it...I mean it is something I'm going to have to live with....grrrr....trying to understand this thing called RSD isn't easy...