Saturday, December 5, 2009

I'm Back

I'm back and earlier than expected.

Alas, it's started. The sadness. The frustration. I feel angry and I feel bitter.

Also, He's proposing to me at Christmas. I haven't decided if I'm going to say Yes or No, yet. I've known for well over a month that he was going to propose. I wasn't sure when exactly, but he kind of let it slip at breakfast this morning. Yuck.

I'll probably say yes in the moment. I don't really want to. Well, I want to, but I'm not sure about it all. We're just going to end up divorced anyway. Girls always have this picture in their head of how they want to be proposed to.

Personally, I want it to be a huge production. I want it to be disgustingly romantic and beautiful and meaningful, maybe even in public so he can profess his undying love for me while strangers witness his spectacle. I him to write me a love song, or spray it on a billboard, or just anything big and awesome!

I doubt I'll get what I want.

But he better not propose in a fucking car or the dirty apartment. I'll be pissed.

I want stars and flowers and music and candles and backup dancers. Sigh. Wishful thinking.

I am so fucking pessimistic. I am the most bitter person I know. Most girls would be crying with joy over the fact that their boyfriend wants to propose. Here I am picking it all apart, complaining, sounding like a huge ungrateful bitch, which I'm sure I am. It's hard to be happy when you're not a happy person.

This Christmas will be my most fake one yet.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009


This blog is now on hiatus until the first snow fall. I feel fucking fantastic and this blog depresses me so I'm not even going to bother bringing down my good mood.

Saturday, June 13, 2009


I have news. I don't know if it's good or bad, but it's big!

I was given some very good advice from a distant family member: I am not responsible for my parent!

How true. I am not. I shouldn't be. Ever. It's not right. I have given my dad over $1000 in the last 2 years. And on top of that money, for his combined birthday and father's day gift, my sister and I paid for the $1000 repair bill on his truck for him. Unfortunately, my sister is going to school in the fall and we split the bill 60-40.

It's a lot of money. I'm not even working steady. A few days here and there, if I'm lucky, I'll get three shifts a week. Money's tight for me too, but at least I have savings.

Dad said he might have to move in with me in September. I'm dreading it. I had offered my place to him, but now I'm having second thoughts. I wrote my dad a letter explaining how I feel. My relationship with The BF is already strained, and having dad move in for an unknown amount of time will cause more stress. I feel so bad going back on my word, but I have to. Dad has to help himself before I can help him any more.

I'm really afraid to send the letter, and I don't know if I have the guts to do it. I'll be hurting my father a lot and he's already depressed. I feel like I'm the only one he has. Like all the weight is on my shoulders to keep him afloat. I shouldn't have to feel this way and I also feel guilty and selfish sometimes too.

I just don't know what to do anymore.

And The BF said to me that he's no longer going to pick me up from work because it interferes with his social life. I take the bus to work because it costs $2.30 to board the transit. If I take my car to work, it costs me $10 a day to park. Taking the bus saves me a considerable amount of money.

But because I work 10:30 until 7:15, by the time I get off work, all the buses are running on evening times. I have to wait 20 minutes or more after I'm done my shift to catch the bus home. And there's a lot of walking involved. So, instead of waiting around, The BF just comes to pick me up.

It's a great system for me, but The BF has started complaining that he can't hang out with his friends after work (he gets home at 5) because he has to wait around for my shift to end and come get me. I didn't realize that this was such an inconvenience to him. I didn't realize his friends were so fucking important he has to hang out with them ALL THE FUCKING TIME!!! It's always about his friends, always.

This relationship is really not working out at all. We are not on the same wavelength anymore. He is so consumed by his friendships it's all he sees. When I tell him how I feel like I'm always on the back burner he doesn't deny it, but he doesn't try to do anything about it either. I feel so useless.

Sunday, June 7, 2009

Mixed Bag

I'm such a drama queen.

Things with The Bf and I are fine(ish) I guess. I installed The Sims Complete Collection and made all my friends and family into Sim form. It's sweet.

I went for breakfast with my sister this morning and it was really fun. She told me funny things that happened last night after she went to go pick up her drunk friend-with-benefits from the bar. I like to call him Shelly because his name is Sheldon and he hates being called Shelly.

For the past week I've been waiting for a response from my I-hope-to-one-day-be-real-friends on facebook. Nothing yet. I didn't say anything weird to them... and I know they've read my message because I creeped their facebook to see what kind of activity they've been up to.

It's time to give up. I'm moving to plan B. "Would you like to get a coffee tomorrow?" is almost too easy. Instead, I should think of an elaborate and difficult scheme to "randomly" bump into them. I'm kidding. But thinking about it makes me laugh.

I like plotting outrageous plans that make no sense. I once wrote a story called "Why Russ Is In Cuba" and it's a semi-fictional story that originated from an MSN Messenger convo I was having with a friend.

I'd love to get some art done to go along with the story, but I'd have to find a talented artist first.

This blog was mostly useless... but now I'm going to post my story on here... maybe.

Saturday, June 6, 2009

It's Over

In three months I'll be single. The BF and I are just not working out as planned. I have to wait for three months because that's when the lease is up on the apartment. Financially we need each other right now, but emotionally, I'm just not feeling it.

He chooses his friends over me all the time. If there's ever something that I want to do with him and his friends are not involved, he doesn't want to do it. He'd rather, "be with friends" instead. It's depressing.

I'm moving to London to become a lesbian for a year. I'll get a work visa with and they'll help me set it all up. (The work visa, not the lesbian bit.)

Moving out of this apartment at the end of September works out nicely for me. My sister is going away to college and staying in a dorm, so while I look for a place to live I can just crash at my mom's and stay in my sister's room. Living at home sucks, but it's better than living with my current boyfriend.

I really like him, but I can tell it's not working. I'm a depressing cry-baby to begin with, so adding the stress of having a boyfriend who makes me cry too doesn't help.

Many people have commented that they think we're a great couple and really compatible and junk, but what they're seeing isn't real. I happen to be very good at faking a genuine smile. I've been doing it for so long, I don't even notice it anymore.

I'm going to be such a loser when I become single. I feel no optimism for my future, but I'd rather feel alone in an empty room than alone in a crowd.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

A Real Person's Face

I'm still waiting for my happy pills to come in the mail. It seems they've already had a placebo effect on me because yesterday and the day before I was exuberantly happy!

I felt like my old self. The BF and I had a water fight. I bought some water guns and left one outside the front door for him with a note that said "arm yourself' and when he walked in I started shooting him! Our clothes were all wet and we took them off and had great sex!!!

What a wonderful day that was.

I'm not sure what today will bring. I'm optimistic that I'll make a new friend or two. I met a girl named Maha at a karaoke bar and she seemed really nice and she added me on facebook. I sent her a message and I hope she sends me one back.

Plus, I signed up for pottery classes. They start in July. I'm really excited. The class is small, only nine people, but I hope my classmates are cool people.

My boyfriend's band-mate, Margie, is someone I hope to be friends with. She's really cool and I like her and I sent her a message on facebook, but I don't know what's going to become of it. She's a bit of a social butterfly. I think she only talks to me because I'm The BF's shadow.

I can tell the difference when somebody is talking to me because they are interested in what I have to say, or because they're just so comfortable with themselves and their interpersonal skills, they think they can pass off small chat as something greater. Damn you!

I sent her a message about something that's deeper than small chat. She responded, but we haven't had a convo in real life... I'm hoping to get away from the fucking facebook and more towards a real person's face. That's my goal. I can do this.

Monday, June 1, 2009

Waiting for Happiness

Happiness is not a fish that you can catch. I can't play the ukulele worth a shit and when I told my boyfriend I wanted to move to the United Kingdom for a year on a work visa he said he'd break up with me because he doesn't want to come with me and he doesn't want a long distance relationship. (Even though I'd be gone only for a year... possibly only 6 months! Plus we've been dating for over a year and are practically engaged, just with no rings.)

I'm not sure what he's so afraid of. He just bought a car and his career is going really well. He's made a shit-ton of friends and his music and photography are really kicking off. He has a great life. I don't.

I am unhappy to the extreme. Judging by the name of this blog, perhaps you would agree?

I've always wanted to travel and I think this would be a super amazing opportunity. I'm ready to leave now! I want to go, get out, fly away, never come back for a year!

The BF wants to stay, be rooted, be responsible, buy a house, be a nob.

Fucking lucky bastard. If we were switch positions, I wouldn't want to leave either.

So now I'm debating... do I leave for a year anyway? Lose my job, my apartment, my fucking boyfriend! One of the few people who puts up with my bullshit attitude towards life and living in general.

Do I throw that all away? I don't think that I am throwing it all away. I think I'm putting it on hold until I've seen the world. I've always wanted to travel. Why not now? Why not now while I'm young and and flexible? Later is too late for me.

And as we've all learned with The BF, later is the story of his life.

I can't wait much longer. It feels like I'm waiting for happiness. I just want to go out into the world and be satisfied... If I have to do it alone, then so be it.

Happy Pills

Last night I typed the words "happy pills" into Google search and I found this:

It made me laugh inside my head, like who would be stupid enough to buy these? It doesn't look professional in any way.

I bought a bottle of 60 tablets anyway. It only cost me $30 which, after looking at some other prices on the web, it seems like I got some sort of deal. Other sites were selling for $50 and even $60 dollars. (And is it redundant I wrote a $ sign plus the word?)

Here's some more specs for you to judge me by:

Sunday, May 31, 2009


I went for a bike ride today. I feel okay. Not good, but not bad either. Just neutral. I think I'm really going to start playing my ukulele for realzies this time. All of my boyfriend's friends (plus The BF too) are musicians or singers in some way. I'm neither and that makes me feel like an outsider. I'm going to learn the ukulele and be cool like everyone else.

Fuck, this one girl sings and plays the SAW!!! Who even plays that as an instrument? And there's all these weird drums and shakers and things in every house we go into.

Today we met some hula hoop girls who also surface juggle at breakfast at a friend's house. It was cool, but weird too. They were pretty au natural if you know what I mean. Hairy armpits and legs and big eyebrows. They all dreaded their hair and wore fucked up crazy hobo outfits. Oh, and of course, NO BRAS! Big saggy tits with nothing to restrain them. I love seeing that while I'm trying to eat my blueberry pancakes. Like huge gross nipples.

The BF's best friend is leaving on a month long bike trip. Thank fucking God. If they spent any more time together I'd think they were jacking each other off every night!

It will be nice to not have to compete for attention for a while.

Sometimes I just feel so fucking outside of everything, you know what I mean? Like I'm alienated everywhere I go. I hate that. I do it to myself, for sure, but I still hate it. And I hate myself for it too.

And I wish I could sing really good. That would solve a lot of my problems. Being a better singer is something I should work on.

Saturday, May 30, 2009


Last night I listened to Lucky by Radiohead and when the chorus came I burst into tears. I wrapped my pink belt around my neck as tight as I could. I could feel my pulse in my throat and I felt my face turning red. When I started to get dizzy I loosened up. I did this several times. Then I wrote the word slit on both my wrists with a black gel ink pen. I thought it looked cool. I tried sharpening my knife so it would slice my skin easier but I don't really know how to properly sharpen a knife and I think I may have actually made it duller. That's just as well I suppose.

I went to bed after 2 in the morning. My wrist looks like the cat faintly scratched me. I'm pathetic.

I'm also buying half an ounce of weed today and smoking as much of it as I can in one sitting. Perhaps then I'll go for a bike ride to counter act the negative impact smoking has on my lungs.

Friday, May 29, 2009


Nobody's read my blog for about a month now. I thought I was being so positive too...

The BF and I got into a fight about laundry today. It was an all out war. He hasn't washed his clothes in literally a month. Every article of clothing he owns is in a heaping pile in the walk-in closet.

I'm not sure when the last time he wore clean socks was. He just picks through them to find another pair. Same with jeans and shirts and gitch. Fucking disgusting. He smells.

I said if you don't deal with this I'm putting your laundry somewhere you don't want it to be. He never did his laundry so I moved every last article into his studio. I covered the entire floor with his dirty clothes.

His car is broken and he's been using mine for the last two weeks. I put my foot down last night and said take the bus you scab! So he did. He comes home late from work. He's in a terrible mood. He takes one look at his laundry and explodes.

Everything with him is "I'll do it later" "I'll do it tomorrow" "Another time" "Not right now."


Now! NOW! I said to him. DO IT NOW! RIGHT FUCKING NOW!

I got in his face and shoved him a bit. Lots of finger wagging and pointing. I said get it done.

He wanted to take a nap. I told him he would never be able to fall asleep because I would standing over his head screaming at him to wash his laundry. He tried anyway and failed horrible. I nagged in his ear as hard as I could. I even attempted to push him off the bed. This really agitated him.

"Why are you acting like such a crazy bitch?" he says.
I grabbed a pair of scissors and said, "You want crazy? This is crazy! Go wash your clothes before I fucking stab you!"

I jabbed my scissors into his general direction for good measure.

It took a good thirty to forty-five minutes of yelling and abuse before he conceded and took his clothes to the washing machine. I told him he could nap on the huge leather couch in the laundry room if he was sooooo tired.

After he brought his clean laundry upstairs I made him hang it up and put it away properly. I also got him to change the lightbulbs he kept saying he'd do and never did. And I got him to change the kitty litter and take out the recycling.

He is such a lazy, dirty, fucker.

I wish for once, just once, he'd show some initiative and pride in himself. Like, seriously, wear clean socks every day for fuck's sake! I can't even believe him sometimes.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

I So Called It

My father has
- no job
- no vehicle
- no groceries
- no credit and no way to build credit. I think he has negative credit.

Soon to have no utilities, and before you know it, no apartment! Hooray!

Seriously, 4 days ago I told my friends THIS was going to be the year my dad moves in with me. He's flat broke and now any prospect he ever had of finding a job has been completely diminished to nothing. Living in a rural area with no transportation makes it quite difficult to get groceries, pay bills, get a job.

What happened was his tranny died in his truck. It turned out to be a $900 repair and my dad simply can't afford it. His birthday is a week before father's day. I talked it over with my sister and she said she could give me a couple hundred bucks, but I think I'm going to pay for the repairs on his truck.

He's got to have a vehicle if he wants to get a job. He can't even get to a bank without a vehicle.

I told Dad to just move in with me already, but he's not giving up hope yet. He says he still has some tricks up his sleeve. He's going to take his bike around town and talk to some people. Try to spread the word that he's looking for a job, any job, doing anything, any position available at all, paying any wage!

Good for him. He's a tough man. He's trying so hard. It kills me to watch him struggle so much. He's 62. It shouldn't be this bad. He's been in the same rut for 8 years now and there doesn't seem to be any light at the end of the tunnel.

I so fucking called it.

Friday, May 22, 2009

Something Happened

You know when you think something is going to happen, and you're like, yeah I know for sure this going to happen, but then when it doesn't happen you're kind of disappointed, and you say to yourself, oh well, I kind of knew that it would turn out this way, even though earlier you "knew for sure it was going to happen."

That's kind of how I feel right now.

Monday, May 18, 2009

Modern Ann Frank

I think the storm has passed. I know that for the rest of my life I'll probably be paranoid. I'll probably be anxious and claustrophobic. I'll probably be depressed.

But for right now, I feel fucking fantastic. I found my old diaries and I started reading them for hours. God, to be 13 again! I was so excited about life, the world, and growing up. I was boy crazy and felt pretty. Where did that young girl go? She used to be so vibrant.

How did she mature into this gloomy cloud? I don't know.

Life fucking sucks the dick, but I need to get out in the world anyway. I want to go where I've never gone before. I'm not ready to die. There's too much shit to do and I want to do it before I can't.

Gotta see the world before it ends. Before the mountains erode to nothing; before all the rivers and lakes dry up into mud pits; and before all the forests are chopped barren and form large deserts. Gotta leave the country before Big Brother cracks down on international travel and implements newspeak.

Then I'll write about it in my journal. Hopefully I'll have children and grandchildren to pass my writings on to. They can read my adventure long after I'm gone. Maybe then my life will have meaning.

Sunday, May 3, 2009

The Nook

I zoned out at breakfast this morning. We were at The Nook. The BF was boring me and wouldn't stop talking about things I already know, so I didn't even pretend to listen. I just zoned out.

Plus, I don't know why I always order pancakes when I go out to eat because I really don't like pancakes. They seem like a good idea at the time, but they're too heavy and gross me out after just a few bites. I ate literally half my stack. The BF ate his stack plus the rest of my stack too.

He's going to get fat one day and it will be all my fault. Well, one third my fault. He doesn't eat breakfast and his lunch consists of Mr. Noodles and an apple, or maybe a burger and fries. Blah.

After we're married and have kids I'm going to enforce family breakfast hour, family exercise time, and family board game night.

I'm craving mozzerela flavoured cheetos right now. Damn that would taste so good! They don't sell them where I'm from and that disappoints me.

I'm hungry all the time. I'm going to get fat one day too. I used to care, but now I kind of don't.

Saturday, May 2, 2009


I had a birthday party. I didn't want to have it, but I planned it anyway and The BF kind of forced me to go through with it.

I plotted to hang myself in the bathroom while all my party guests were there. I didn't have any rope and I drank so much I blacked out. Then I told one of my friends my plan because I was so drunk I wasn't really thinking. She started to cry.

Then she left and The BF had to take care of me. He stole my pocket knife from me so I wouldn't cut myself, and I said I was going to hang myself anyway. He was upset and told me to get some help.

It's been a week and I haven't yet. I don't think I will. But you never know.

My perfect eloping plan has failed. The BF said he couldn't go through with it so I punched him and cried about it. Then I came to my senses and we arranged a compromise.

I picked out some rings online that I fancy to show The BF. Mostly Classic Solitaire Round Cuts. I told him if we can't elope my way he damn well better buy me the perfect engagement ring!

I hate weddings. I'm going to hate my own wedding. Weddings don't even mean anything you know? For example, my father was married 3 times and divorsed 3 times. My mother married my dad because she was knocked up. Seriously, if this is what I have to look forward to than fuck it!

My wedding will be small. 20 people tops. Immediate family only type thing. I've picked out my maid of honour and The BF picked out his best man. We shall be married by justice of the peace type deal in a forest somewhere. (Not my idea! I wanted to go to Australia!)

And it will be lovely. Fucking lovely marriage bliss!

Sunday, April 26, 2009

i hate myself i want to die

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

FB Freak

I write two posts about how I'm going to hang myself and no comments? Tough crowd. Here goes post three because apparently nobody's reading this anyway. The BF went out with his friends tonight. They went to the bar and the did something else and now they're playing scrabble.

I would kill to have somebody to play scrabble with. I remember when board games were my life. Playing board and card games is my ultimate favourite thing to do! The BF said he'd be home by 11, when I get home from work. It's almost 11:30 and he's still out playing scrabble. He texted me saying I can check for updates on the game on Facebook.


Monday, April 13, 2009


Do I deserve to live? What makes my life so worthy? Sure, I can live out my life until I die of natural causes. I could watch my grandchildren grow up. I could travel the world and learn something new every day. But will my presence in the universe help or hinder it? Is fulfilling personal goals and dreams enough to constitute being alive?

I have goals and dreams.

I want to get married and have kids. I want to buy a house. I want to see Europe.

I want to make a difference in the world. But what's the point? Will I ever do any of those things? And let's say I do. Then what? And what if I don't do any of them? What happens then? NOTHING! Nothing happens! It's all for nothing all the time!

It's all so mindless and meaningless. Everything is about nothing and there's no unity. There's no togetherness. I feel very disconnected, even from The BF.
I feel especially disconnected from my friends. Few people know who I am, but that's my fault really. I shouldn't be so introverted all the time.

The world sucks. I don't hate my life, I just hate being alive. I'd say I'm becoming quite close to ending things permanently. I just have to decide when. By the time that comes, I'll probably have talked myself out of it, but it doesn't hurt to have a plan.

I should stop fantasizing about suicide and just get it over with already. Procrastination is probably the only reason I'm still alive right now.

Saturday, April 11, 2009

Fuck Life

Today feels like suicide. I want to rot in a hole. I don't know why and that's the weird thing. I feel like... sad? I can't explain it. I don't want to feel like this. I still haven't gone to see a therapist or whatever they're called. I thought I didn't need to anymore because the snow was melting and I felt better. Maybe I should.

By April I'm not supposed to be sad anymore. By April I'm supposed to be excited about my birthday. I created a facebook event for my birthday. 44 people were invited. I think I personally know about 15 of those people. The rest are acquaintances that could develop into friendships if I worked at them. I figure a party is a good place to start.

I'm not excited about my birthday. I want to die. And I want to tell people that I want to die. I want them to know that I'm not well. I am shameful though. Nobody understands.

I went into a depression forum and this woman said she wanted to end it all. A reply post said something like, everybody feels depressed at one time or another.

No! That's false! Feeling suicidal is not normal! Feeling depressed and being depressed are two totally different things! The average person doesn't want to die. Everything is about preserving life. Fuck life. There's no reason to live.

Friday, April 10, 2009

Feels like Loser-Ville

I feel like such a loser right now. I think I'm just buzzed and tired though.

I worked the late shift and put in an hour over time. It was after midnight when I left work. The BF left me his car so, I drove down to the club him and his friends were going to meet me at.

It was really fun. Co-op and Hunnicut were spinning and they are the best DJ's I know. The BF wants them to play at our wedding reception and I agree! The night we met for the first time was at a Co-op and Hunnicut show.

I offered my boyfriend a blowjob tonight and he said he'd rather hang out with his friends. Faggot.

I think I live vicariously through my boyfriend. He's so awesome and popular and I'm so retarded and lame.

I think The BF and I compliment each other well. He's extroverted and I'm introverted, but pretend to be extroverted. He can never make a decision and I can always make a decision.

He can't cook, but I'm really good at cooking. He loves playing music and I love listening to music. He has a million friends and I wish I had a million friends. I just like to pretend that his friends are my friends too so I don't feel so cheap-ass in the friend department.

I don't know why I'm so obsessed with my relationships with other people. I need to fucking get over it because it slowly kills me every day.

Like, today at work, a coworker tried to make small talk with me, but I didn't understand that it was one of those conversation where you don't actually say what you mean, so I started responding, but then halfway through realized my coworker was totally not even listening and instead scrolling through her fucking blackberry. And I felt so fucking dumb.

It's like what the fuck is wrong with me? I'm socially retarded. Half the time I have no idea what to say to people because I don't know what they want when they talk to me. I can never tell if they are trying to get to know me or if they are so used to asking meaningless questions they do it out of habit.

I don't know what they want. I have no interpersonal skills apparently. I'm such a loser I am such a loser.

Tomorrow I'm going to help a coworker sandbag his house. I'm hoping this gesture will shine a positive light on me and make people like me.

I can't believe my boyfriend turned down a blowjob. What a faggot. He ALWAYS wants a bj and now suddenly his friends are more important.

Maybe I have no friends because I'd choose oral sex over them.

Saturday, April 4, 2009

My Book

I didn't have work all week. It was nice to get some time off and focus on myself for a while. I hit the gym for several hours over the course of the week and started working with a trainer again.

I've also been working on my erotic novel I've been writing for a few years. It's 9 chapters long. Each chapter is between 10 and 17 'Microsoft Word' pages long.

I'm an avid reader. When I was young I was reading well above grade level, but by the time I'd reached high school, I kind of leveled off. I ran out of good books to read in my school's tiny library. I also had memberships at other libraries, but I kind of stopped going.

Anyway, I remember sitting in my grade 12 English class and being so frustrated because no book could hold my attention like it used to. I'd get half way through a novel and be bored of it. Books about "teen issues" were lame and written by middle aged people who didn't seem to know what it was like. Harlequin books were equally as lame and the main characters were too old, or the language it was written in was boring, not sexy. I didn't enjoy science fiction.

That never used to happen, me getting bored of a book. Once I started a book I didn't stop until I was through.

But something good came out of this situation... an idea popped into my head.

Since I didn't enjoy reading any of the books being offered to me, why don't I make my own? I decided I'd write my own novel. I'd write this perfect dream story, especially designed for me. It would include all the things I was interested in: sex, drugs, romance, drama.

I actually spent a lot of time preparing to write this book. By the time I'd graduated, I'd created several character bios for all the important characters in my book. I mapped out a sort of family tree so I knew who was connected to each character and how they knew each other.

I thought out my basic story line and the message I wanted to get across in my novel. I created a few subplots and made sure I knew where each one was going and how it was going to relate to my my story.

I broke down what was going to happen in each chapter and made point form notes to keep me on track.

It's been 5 years and I'm still not done. I haven't been working on it continuously, so every time I blow the dust off of it, I have to re-read everything I've written, make changes, and edit it all over again, before adding what happens next. It can take a while considering it just gets longer each time I put it down and pick it up again.

It's my baby. When I'm done, I might try and publish it, but I'm not sure how to go about it. I didn't write it to appease a specific genre or to make money. I'd call my novel an "erotic teen romance." All my characters are 17 because I was in high school when I started to create it, but there are graphic sex scenes. I wrote it to please myself, so I guess older female teens would be most interested in reading it too. I posted a few sections online for feedback and was surprised to see that a 12 year old had been reading my work. She sent me a comment saying she liked reading this kind of stuff, but mine was different because the characters were closer to her age and she could relate better.

It made me uncomfortable knowing such a young girl was reading such adult material, but I'm glad I could make a connection I guess. Plus, I was the same way at her age, so it's not like it's that abnormal.

I was also thinking that I'd just pay to print 50 copies, give them away to my friends and donate some to libraries, that way I could share my story with others and it wouldn't be about money or royalties, or publishers or agencies.

How can you put a price on intellectual property, anyway? I'll sign my name at the bottom and that's all the credit I need.

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Being Me

When I'm alone, I like to wear nothing but pajama bottoms and a bra and dance around my house with the music blaring as loud as I think I can put it without being evicted from my apartment.

I listen to Franz Ferdinand or Sam Roberts or Korn. Actually I listen to hundreds of bands/artists when I do this. It's different every time. But I can tell you I never listen to dance or club music when I do this. They don't play U2 at the fucking club.

I've been doing this for years and years... since I was like 10 probably. Except back when I was a little kid I'd lock myself in my bedroom and dance to backstreet boys haha.

One time in high school somebody from my school was driving by my house and she saw me dancing all weird in the living room. (When I dance by myself I am completely uninhibited!) This girl already hated me and made fun of me all the time and this just added more to her ammunition against me.

I remember her saying, "Oh she looks like she's having fun" and then throwing her head back and laughing her fat ass off because she thought I was the most retarded person on the planet.

I wasn't mortified... I wasn't proud either. I was having fun though. I was having the best time ever. When I dance stupidly by myself I have an awesome time! It's so fun. I just do fucked up dance moves that only my cats witness.

I feel like myself.

But right now I feel like a loser. I feel like I did in high school: awkward and alone. A bunch of young interns at my work are all best friends for life and I'm envious because I'm not friends with anyone from work. I get along with everyone at work, but I mean, we don't do after work activities together because most of them are married with kids and have grey hairs.

They pick each other up from their houses... they go out for dinner... they go out for drinks... they make me fucking sick.

The logical thing to do would be to just wedge myself in there and start asking if I can come, or suggest something for us to do... you know, what normal people do.

Unfortunately, this is not an option for me. I'm too doubtful and pessimistic. Plus, I never hang out with this people from work and never have a reason to talk to them about work stuff because we don't work together ever.

I am pathetic. I know. I'm truly a loser. I'm just like I was in high school. So I'm dancing. I'm dancing my fucking heart right now and singing at the top of my lungs to Robbie Williams, Seal, and You Say Party We Say Die! I'm dancing and I am myself and I feel like myself.

I just wish I could let others see me in my natural habitat. I wish I wasn't so afraid to let others see the real me. I guess I just feel like the real me isn't good enough.

And is it good enough? I don't know. Maybe. Sometimes. I don't know.

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Pen Pals

I feel like I should write a new post, but I'm unsure what to write about.

I've been feeling rather anti-social as of late. I've been sick and worn out. I tire easily and just want to stay at home and write to my pen pals in prison. I want more pen pals. This one pen pal I have in the Louisiana State Pentitentiary is such an amazing person! I love reading letters from him. He's as old as my dad and has much to say about the world. It's very interesting.

My other pen pal in Nevada State Prison might masturbate to the picture I sent to him of me... I'm not sure though... he's kind of creepy.

I used to have to pen pal in Australia that I was paired with while enrolled in Girl Guides. It was cool at the time. Pen pals were really popular then.

With the advent of the internet, there's no need to pen a friend. You can just go into a Spanish chat room or something and chat with whoever and it doesn't cost you anything.

I used to do that a lot actually. I'd enter some international chat room and use Babblefish Translater from to help me translate. It was cool.

I'd love to learn a second language. I'd want to learn French or German. I know a little bit of French from what I learned in elementary school, but I can't form proper sentences or conjugate verbs.

After learning French I'd travel abroad and spend the summer in France with a hot beau haha.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Two Hookers and an 8 Ball!

I love going to concerts. I went to Propagandhi and Mindless Self Indulgence this week. It was the best time!

For MSI, I just went fucking crazy rocking out so hard! I was wearing 3 layers of shirts and all of them soaked right through. I was drenched in sweat like I'd jumped in a swimming pool!

I love that.

I love that so much. I love live music!

I forgot my earplugs though. I always wear earplugs when I go to concerts because I don't want to damage my hearing and the ringing in my ears is just too much bear. I already have insomnia; I don't need my fucking ears to be ringing all the time, too. I go to a lot of shows.

Unlike some other people I know (The BF) I'm not counting on modern medical advancements to give my irreplaceable hearing back in my old age (or middle age probably for The BF)

Anyway, my ex-bf was at MSI. It turned out to be okay though. I thought he was going to be bringing his slut-bitch with him but he didn't which was a relief. I spent hours worrying about the horrible confrontation we'd most likely have.

Gawd I hate her so much. We were enemies, then we became friends, then I had to write her a polite email stating I'd like to discontinue our friendship (because she is fucking crazy!)

Anyway, she's immature. She likes to spit on me, push me, dump her drink on me, try to fight me. I have my very own bully. Lovely.

And I call her slut-bitch because she was sleeping with my ex before and after my ex and I broke up. She loves him and he only wants sex from her so it's funny. If she wasn't such a bitch all the time, I'd feel sorry for her. Plus, she's actually morbidly obese and the only time she gets people to have sex with her - and by people I mean her 3 friends that are male - is when they are both drunk. It's pathetic.

The last thing I want to say, if you don't know who Mindless Self Indulgence is click this link MSI

The lead singer is double plus good. And sexy. Sooooo sexy. I would fuck him in a god damn heart beat! And at the concert, he started taking his clothes off, I felt like I was 13 at a Backstreet Boy concert. JC he is yummy!

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Partial Insomnia Remedy

Yesterday I called in sick for my shift that I was supposed to have today. Then I went to a concert. I shouldn't have gone because I was sick, but that's a waste of money and there was no one else to take the ticket and I really wanted to go. I had booked the day off work to go!

Now today, I don't feel sick at all. I could have actually gone to work, but I'd already called in sick. I have to work tomorrow which sucks, but it's nice to get some time off.

To alleviate my insomnia, I'm trying a few new things. I bought a CD at Shoppers Drug Mart for $10. You know those little music kiosk things where you can preview different CD's for sale. The cover art for all the CDs are buttons that you push and it starts to play the CD for you.

Anyway, there was one called Dream Surf. I pushed it and it was the sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore. I bought it. My other purchases were Vaseline, condoms, kinder surprise chocolates, and cold medication. I always wonder what the cashier is thinking when she's ringing through my items.

I put the CD on before bed and popped some Nyquil pills. The effect was wondrous! What an awesome sleep. I woke up once at 5 am but fell back asleep within a few minutes.

The next night I played the CD again, but instead of taking Nyquil I rubbed Vicks Vapo Rub on my throat and chest and I took some other pills. They're called Relax and Sleep pills. It's a variety of herbal type stuff. Catnip, passionflower, and some other things. Anyway, those knocked me out pretty good! I slept the whole night through and it was awesome! The last time I slept for 10 straight hours, I must have been in high school.

Normally it takes me about an hour to 2 hours to fall asleep after going to bed, even though I'm feeling very tired. I usually wake up at least twice during the night and it will take me anywhere from ten minutes to an hour to fall back asleep again.

These Relax and Sleep pills aren't supposed to be taken daily. The bottle says "Only to be taken occasionally." Occasionally isn't a very exact reference of time. Perhaps they could have written, take once a week, or, do not exceed X amount of pills a month. You know, something with a better frame of reference.

To me, occasionally means once a month.

I want to take these pills ever day. Are they addicting? I'm not sure. Catnip is like light marijuana isn't it? If I had it my way I'd toke up every night before bed!

I know people can start to rely on sleeping pills too heavily and then are unable to sleep with out them, but the way I see it, these people are taking sleeping pills for a reason ie: can't sleep, and so how could somebody know for sure that they were addicted to sleeping pills? Maybe there are people who need sleeping pills every night in order to get proper rest?

I've had trouble sleeping all my life, for as far back as I can remember.

Apparently insomnia isn't a "sickness" it's a symptom. I wonder why my insomnia is a symptom of if I've had it all my life?

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Hone Your Craft

I've been writing a lot of draft blogs lately and then deleting them because they get too long and rambly and I don't want to edit them to make them shorter or end them properly. So I just delete them.

If you had a specific skill, would you not want to "hone your craft?"
If you were a photographer, wouldn't you want to take pictures of everything, even if it was of content you weren't particularily interested in, just because it would be good practice, it would get your name out there, and all around improve your skill?

If you were a carpentor, would you say, no I don't want to build a barn... I only build houses. Or if you were a mechanic would you say, no I don't want to fix trucks... I only fix cars.

So, as a photographer, who shoots mainly action and portrait shots, (the other genres of photography are landscapes and weddings,) if you were offered a free VIP pass to an event you wouldn't normally attend, what does it matter that you don't like what's going on at the event?

Isn't it enough to shoot something because you like to use your camera and it gives you exposure, so that one day you can make money off photography like you've always planned?

I had 2 VIP passes once. I offered one away. It was thrown back in my face. Whatever. His loss. Obviously he doesn't want to be a professional photographer that bad!

No, he'd rather sit on his ass watching TV than go do something he loves; even if he doesn't love what he's shooting. It's about capturing moments. It's about telling a story. It's about money.

How can you capture moments, tell a story, and make money by sitting on your ass? When somebody gets hired for this position, please tell me how you did it because the entire world is dying to know.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Reason Unknown

I know I'm having some sort of problem or issue with depression, but for the life of me, I can't figure out what it is, at least by myself. I don't know what's causing it. I don't know why I feel depressed all the time. I don't know how to make it stop. Some days it would just be easier to end it all, but I can't figure out why and it's driving me mental.

Normally people have a reason, at least one good reason, for feeling depressed and angry. Sometimes I just cry for no reason and I stop myself and ask myself, hey, why are you being like this? What set you off? And I honestly can't explain it. I try to think back to how I was feeling before, but I draw a blank. I just want to feel better.

I want to get the help of a professional, but I'm afraid of sounding stupid on the phone when I book the appointment. I'm afraid that once I get to the appointment and start trying to explain myself that I'm going to look like a complete moron who's wasting everyone's time. I hate crying in front of others. I hate looking dumb. I hate talking to strangers on the phone!

Everything happens for a reason. Not in a fatalist type way, but I mean in a scientific type way. I am not depressed for no reason. It feels like it, but that's untrue. I want to determine the reason why.

These are the symptoms I've noticed developing in myself in the last 4 years.

- depression
- insomnia
- anxiety
- loss of appetite
- migraines

I need to eat better. I need to exercise more. I need to get a proper night's sleep. I need to keep my house clean.

I'm working on it, I'm working on it. I keep 2 blogs and a fucking journal plus 2 pen pals! I joined a gym. I even had a personal trainer until that got fucked up. I go to bed at midnight (usually.) I drink plenty of water throughout the day.

I need to stick to a fucking routine. I need to get my shit together. I'm trying, I'm trying.

I need to book an appointment with a therapist. I know, I know. I'm ashamed. I don't want to tell people. I don't want people to know. But if everyone knew then it would be so much easier.

My cat just scratched me... it hurts and it's bleeding... but it feels good at the same time, like it's pulled me back down to reality. I'm going to go to sleep while I'm still numb.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

All About Cats

I spend an awful lot of time with my cats. I think of them and treat them as my children. I love them each in their special way. The littlest kitty is starting to recognize his name finally. Because I spend an exorbitant amount of time with my feline companions, I like to think of myself as a kind of amateur expert on raising cats.

It takes a hell of a lot of time, but you CAN train cats. It's not hard; it just takes repetition. Many people don't have the patience because cats seem to just do whatever the hell they want. That is true... cats do whatever they want. Here's the trick: To make cats do what YOU want, you have to make it seem like it was THEIR idea.

If you set up booby traps around your house, it will not only deter your cat from exhibiting a certain behaviour, but will eventually make them stop altogether because no human was directly involved in the deterrence process. The cat stops because it wanted to.

You can put tape on the sides and edges of your counter and table to stop the cat from jumping up. Cats hate the feeling of stickiness and after getting its hair stuck a few times, it will decide it doesn’t actually want to do that anymore. Even after you remove the tape, the cat still won’t jump up because it will remember why it stopped and just won’t bother trying again.

When you are unable to use this tape method, you can also try tin foil. Cats don’t like the way tin foil feels, so wrapping it around objects you don’t want your cat to scratch usually reverses the behaviour. You have to leave the tin foil up consistently for at least 2 months, sometimes longer, so the cat can get used to scratching something else. Once you notice the cat is in the habit of scratching somewhere else, it’s safe to take the foil down.

Cats hate spicy! A third option is sprinkle cayenne pepper on spots you want your cat to avoid. Putting pepper in your potted plants (alliteration woo!) will make cats stop digging in your flowers.

One of my cats liked scratching my mattress. I didn’t feel comfortable putting tape on the fabric, so I tried wrapping tin foil around the exposed parts of the mattress the cat was scratching. The cat stopped scratching the mattress, but then started chewing on the tin foil and making a mess under my bed, so I combined tactics. I placed 2 small saucers filled with cayenne and black pepper under my bed to keep the cat away from the area altogether. It worked!

I’ve since taken down the foil and removed the pepper, but my cat has already decided for himself that he doesn’t want to go over there and has found a new spot to scratch.

Not having to yell or physically remove the cat from a situation is so nice. All I had to do was help the cat want to avoid the area my making it as undesirable as possible for him.

Another way to get your point across to your cat is to speak to it in its own language.
Aside from reading hundreds of parenting articles, I also read hundreds of cat articles.

Cats speak to other cats with their body language. The positioning of the tail, ears, eyes, and body all come together to form different meanings, which are easily interpreted by other cats (obviously,) but for humans, some of the nuances completely go over our heads.

Good thing cats are smart though. Cats understand that humans are extremely verbal and so cats have developed a language to speak to us in. Cats give humans - and any animals nearby - body language signals all the time. Other animals like dogs are able to pick up on the body language quicker than humans. If an animal is really missing the point, the cat adds a verbal que as well like a hiss if it wants the other animal to stay away.

In the wild, cats don't communicate verbally at all. But, since being domesticated, cats have had to find a way to tell humans what they want. I think there's a range of something like 25 sounds a cat could make to try to tell you what it wants to convey.

Listening to the pitch and tone of the sound can really help determine what your cat wants or needs. Shorter, higher pitched sounds are usually a greeting to you. A longer chirp is a sign of playfulness and friendliness. A chatter sound is reserved for hunting prey, or being excited by something outside, usually a bird. A short mew could by a cry for food or attention. A longer, louder, drawn out meow is a sign of distress. And of course, growling and hissing are warning sounds to stay away.

Contrary to popular belief, purring doesn’t always mean happy! Cats purr on their deathbed too. When cats purr with their eyes closed or half open that usually means contentment. But, if a cat is purring with its eyes wide open and ears perked up, that means its probably nervous and purring is actually a way for a cat to self-soothe.

A cat will purr when it’s sick or injured as a way to self-soothe too. It’s just like sucking your thumb.

Some cats might experiment with different sounds until it gets what it wants. Once a cat does get what it wants, it will associate the sound it used with the attention received and the next time the cat makes that sound, it will expect to receive the same attention as last time.

So, as a human, if you want certain behaviour from your cat, you need to always use the same sounds and body language so that your cat can remember and understand what you want too!

A big problem I used to have with both my cats is they like to stick their heads in cups and drinking glasses and knock them over, often spilling the contents everywhere. Scaring them away from the cup with loud noises or clapping never seemed to work. Using tape, tin foil, and especially pepper was out of the question. I had to think of a different way to let them know I wanted them to stop.

Apparently, if your cat seems to think it’s okay to steal food off your plate, hissing at them is a way to tell them to stop in its own language. In the wild it’s considered impolite for a cat to steal from another cat that is higher up in society. The dominating cat will hiss and even start a physical fight with the rude cat to put him in his place.

I decided I would try it. I practiced hissing alone, but found I couldn’t master making the sound properly. What I do instead is this: When one of my cats approaches my cup and starts sniffing around to see what’s inside, I blow a short breath in his face as if I’m blowing up a balloon. My teeth are clenched and I let the air go through my teeth so a bit of saliva lands on my cat’s face. This makes the cat instantly take a step back and glare at me. I make sure to glare back without losing eye contact and blow in his face again to reinforce my point. I never need to blow more than three times.

When cats hiss at each other, sometimes they spit at the same time. When I blow on my cats face, the moisture of my breath, combined with the bit of saliva that hits them is the equivalent of hissing and spitting. It’s cat language for fuck off, this is mine, plus it reminds my cats that I am still the boss and they cannot dominate me no matter how hard they try!

Tuesday, March 10, 2009


I read parenting articles for fun.
I honestly enjoy reading about child rearing tactics, age-appropriate discipline, healthy snack foods, and cognitive development!

I love kids so much. In this past year I've heard about so many people I know getting pregnant and it drives me mad because a part of me wish it was I who was pregnant.

The BF isn't ready. Obviously. Why should he be? He thoroughly enjoys being an immature adult to the fullest extent.

Having a baby doesn't make you mature. It makes you think that you probably should mature, and so you do because you think you have to.

Well, you do have to mature slightly I suppose.

To satisfy my need to be around children I’ve decided to volunteer for Big Brothers and Big Sisters. I sent in my application form today online. I’m really, really excited. I keep thinking about it and smiling.

I’ve been meaning to apply for a few years, but I didn’t have a stable enough routine before. School took up all of my time and it wouldn’t be fair to the little one.

For the past hour I’ve been on the Internet researching things to do in my city. From an adult standpoint, I know of many adult things to do in the city, but not a lot of “Family Fun” type things.

Of course there’s all the museums and tours and junk like that, which I’m all about. I’m a total sucker for that stuff, but it can cost a lot of money. As a volunteer, you’re encouraged to do activities that don’t revolve around money so much; like, play sports together.

I hate sports.

I love board games. I must own fifty board games by now. Oh my gawd, if I could be paired up with a kid who likes to play board or card games I am set!

And if my little buddy is nerdy like me and likes the library and baking cookies, and arts and crafts, and being in nature I will probably want to adopt her as my own!

There’s so much fun stuff to do that you can’t really do with other adults unless you add the work “drunk” in front of it. Drunken Bowling. Drunken Mini Golf.

I know as an adult I have never called up a few friends and asked them if they wanted to go to the zoo with me, or if they wanted to go to the roller rink. But, when you’re with a kid, it’s actually pretty fun.

I’m really looking forward to this!

I was really fortunate as a child to have a mother that actually took me places. I remember going to all the museums, different indoor swimming pools, beaches, hiking, the theatre, children’s events and concerts, the circus, the zoo!

A lot of kids don’t have that growing up. A lot of kids are stuck at home all summer and never know what it feels like to travel, or go boating, or explore some place new. I was a shy little kid and was perfectly happy never leaving my bedroom, but I’m really glad my mom forced me out into the world because in the end she was right. I had fun and I learned stuff.

I hope whomever I’m paired up with will have fun and learn stuff too.

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Drunk Blog

Hi, I'm drunk.

I'm going to bed now. Good bye.

Thursday, March 5, 2009


Like the wind, I'm wild or gentle.
Like the sea, I'm tempermental.

That describes me perfectly.

I heard it on a Pop mix CD I bought when I was young. It's stuck with me. I think I'd like to get the verse tatooed on me.

I have horrible mood swings. It's quite easy to set me off, though it's not always noticable. I am able to keep it under wraps. I also have an insatiable dark side and am incredibly violent, even when in a perfectly good mood.

I like to punch and to receive punches. I like the feeling of being hit or pushed. The BF has never been violent with me, but I've punched him in the arm out of anger. (and in the stomach out of sillines because it's funny watching him double over in pain)

I like to be choked during intercourse (as part of my asphyxiation complex.) I have never been choked out before though.

But when you meet me, I'm not dressed in black. I don't wear excessive amounts of black eyeliner, or tacky, stripped wristbands. I don't have a streak of random unnatural colour in my hair, or cover one eye with long bangs.

I look normal. I wear normal people clothes. Visually, I don't stand out in anyway. I have all these weird things on the inside though. Things I've stopped trying to share with others because they don't understand and they think I'm some freak.

I'm not the freak. Everybody's had fucked up thoughts before. It's normal. It's just that nobody talks about it. Maybe they're ashamed... afraid... I choose not to share my thoughts mostly because I'm afraid of being judged.

My thoughts aren't evil... they're more violent. I often imagine myself torturing others and being disgustingly inhumane. I suppose inhumanity could be considered evil. I like the idea of unorthodox social experiments that would ruin somebody's life. Like that guy who was born a male, but his penis got cut off during circumsision so they gave him hormones and tried to turn him into girl. What sort of sick people would do that? I'm not surprised he killed himself cause that's fucked up. He worked with my dad at Maple Leaf for a while.

I like what Vince Li did to Tim McLean from a sociological stand point. The outrage, the false terror, the gruesomeness. The witnesses are still having nightmares all these months later.

Would I have nightmares too? Would I be traumatized? Is there a single witness who wasn't traumatized?

What's it like to see a severed head? It's probably the most disgusting thing ever.

On the other side of the scale, I think about humanity. Sometimes I cry thinking about the days top new stories, like if somebody died, or their house burned down.

I think about the world and I how I want to save it. I give money to all the homeless people who ask. I pick up every hitch hiker I see. If the industry I'm in now fails me, I'd like to start my own daycare and run it out of my home. I love children and I want them to grow up less fucked up than me. I wish I could adopt every abandoned cat and dog and we'd all live in the country together.

Me, my lover/husband person, the homeless people, the homeless animals, and my daycare children will live happily ever after, under a rainbow, eating fresh food from our garden, learning all these sweet skills from our nature hikes together. We'll train our pets to be our awesome friends with skills too! And we'll be millionaires because we have our own reality TV show documenting our wonderful life.

When I was super young I actually thought about this concept a lot.

So those are my extremes and this scale applies to all my relationships and everything in my life. My job, my car, my house.

I only blog about one side of the scale. I'm sorry I'm not more unbiased and don't provide the positive outlook. Happy thoughts can be shared with anyone because everyone likes happy thoughts. Nobody likes unhappy thoughts and that's where this blog comes in.

I love my boyfriend. We share similiar interests in politics, music, tv shows, family values, money/investing, and all that good stuff. We are actually quite compatible and he's still the best roommate I've ever had. He'll make a good daddy one day (once I'm brave enough to poke holes. haha kidding.) and he still tells me he loves me, even when he's mad at me.

I have high hopes for our future together as well as many doubts. I express the doubts in this blog frequently, but my life's not that bad. The doubts are real, don't get me wrong. I strongly feel as though domestic chores will be the death of us, but I'm thankful that's the only thing working against us. Fuck, I'd rather our biggest argument be about the dishes than a coke or gambling addiction!

January, February, March are the peak of my undiagnosed seasonal affective disorder too. The depression makes me feel like life is worse than what it actually is, or used to think it was.

Depression, mixed with anxiety, mixed with violent thoughts equals suicide. I've learned that if I just keep struggling along it will eventually pass. I bet once summer hits I won't write a single entry.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

All The Small Things

Everyone knows it's the little things that count.

I try very hard not be trivial because I'm the type who always wants to exact my revenge, no matter how stupid the situation is.

When The BF leaves his things lying around I gather them all in a big pile and drop them inside his studio in the middle of the floor. His numerous cables get all tangled up. I once unplugged the internet. Guitar picks left on the floor get swept up and thrown away. When he doesn't turn his alarm off in the morning before showering I unplug his clock instead of turning it off. I let the cats scratch his leather couch when he's not around.

It's trivial. It's stupid things. Sure, I could wrap his cables nicely and place his belongings neatly on his (messy) desk. But, I like listening to him complain about having to untangle his cables.
"Well, you should have put them away nicely then," I say.

Sure, I could bend over and pick up every penny, every tiny screw, every guitar pick. But why should I? If these things were important to him, he should have picked them up himself when he dropped them. I smile every time he can't find his guitar picks and has to buy more.
"You should be more organized then," I say.

When he leaves his alarm clock on I unplug it because I don't know how to turn it off. Plus, my sleep is being disturbed and he should know to turn it off in the mornings if he doesn't want to reprogram it every day. Also, it's just courteous.

As for the couch - I just really don't like it. The more ruined it gets the more likely we are to purchase a new one,(and hopefully with HIS money.)

I always say, "Maybe if you cleaned their litter box everyday like you're supposed to, they wouldn't be mad at you and scratch your couch."

It's a stretch, but it's possible.

So, as you see, I take what I can get. It isn't much, but my small, cruel acts help to offset his big lack of responsibility around the house and make me feel as though I'm getting even. I don't plan on taking any major steps because everyone knows it's the little things that count.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Fatter Bitter Future

I want to hold you close
Skin pressed against me tight
Lie still, close your eyes girl
So lovely, it feels so right

I want to hold you close
Soft breath, beating heart
As I whisper in your ear
"I wanna fucking tear you apart"

Tear You Apart - By She Wants Revenge

--- * * * ---

That's The BF's cell phone ring; One of them anyway. It's a good song, but I always hear the last bit of the chorus every day and it wears on you. Right now he's trying to sleep. I was just on Facebook doing things so that his phone will ring while he's trying to sleep. He gets everything sent to his phone. Loser.

My boyfriend is such a jerk and I have serious doubts about marriage. We have 364 days to go! Fuck that! He is so untidy and so unwilling to be more tidy. He is unwilling to help with chores around the house, especially dishes and laundry.

This morning I woke up at 7:30 am and cleaned the entire bathroom, the sink, the disgusting toilet, and I even dusted the ledges around the tub. I swept the kitchen, the pantry, and the dining room. I cleaned the litter boxes (which is The BF's job he rarely does until I nag him) I actually washed out the litter boxes with soap and bleach and gave the kitties fresh litter!

I didn't have breakfast. I got ready for work in record time and caught the bus at 9:55 am.

I did so much this morning. The BF comes home and does nothing. He usually wakes up at 6:45 and arrives at work at 7:30. Today he had to start work at 6:30 am for a special meaning. He showed up late. Figures.

So, I wake up an hour and a half after him and I'm still able to clean the house up a bit and make it to work 10 minutes early! I went to bed at midnight like I always do. If he knew he had a special early morning meeting, why did he go to bed at like 1 in the morning? He's a moron.

He picked me up from work at 7. We got home and I wrote out a shopping list. I treat us to sushie and we head to the store to shop. He's bitching about Cheese Whiz in the store. He wants a huge container of it. I say no. We're on a budget and I already wrote out the shopping list. Plus, I don't eat Cheeze Whiz cause it's SHIT and I know that any food I don't eat, he won't eat, because I don't cook with food I don't eat and he NEVER cooks ever, not even for himself when I'm gone.

One time he asked me to buy Velveeta cheese. I gave in even though I knew I'd never eat it and neither would he. He still hasn't eaten it. He asked to buy sausages. I don't eat sausages, but I thought that on days when I'm not home for supper he could make them. He still hasn't. They're frozen in the freezer. Now this Cheeze Whiz bullshit. I told him he could have the smallest jar there is. He complained it was too small and it looked like a travel size. Anyway, that's all he gets. I'm not wasting money on food he won't eat. Especially when I'm trying to cut our grocery costs down.

The store we were at didn't have everything I needed. I told him we'd have to stop at another grocery store that I knew would have what I wanted. He bitched and complained. Oh he's so tired! Oh he worked 10 hours today! Oh he had to get up so early!

I said right to his face, NOT MY PROBLEM! I asked, are you seriously going to make me continue grocery shopping by myself while you fucking facebook? Oh right, sorry, I mean sleep, not facebook.

He said no. I said good because I'm not done shopping and it's your job to help. We had a bit of screaming match in the parking lot. I told him to just stay in the car and not talk to me for the rest of the night. He followed me into the 2nd store anyway. I made him carry the 18 kg bag of kitty litter. I made sure it was the first item on my list to be picked up so he'd have to struggle around the store with it. Sucker.

I reminded him about the dishes that needed to be done tonight too. We always do the dishes together. A weeks worth has piled up, plus we had guests over the weekend! Yesterday I wanted to get them done and The BF threw a hissy fit then. I asked him if I had to give him 24 hour notice before requesting chores to be done because he always throws a fit. He said yes. He thought I was joking and I thought he was serious. He had no recollection of me asking him yesterday to help with housework today.

He bitched and moaned about the dishes like a damn baby. I said fuck you do them all yourself tomorrow and I want them ALL done BEFORE you come pick me up from work. Any that aren't cleaned properly you'll have to do them again and again and again until they are perfectly clean and spotless.

Argh he makes me so fucking mad! Tomorrow morning I'm waking up early again to start preparing some meals to keep in the freezer so that when The BF comes home from work he can take a casserole out of the freezer and pop it in the oven and it will be ready to eat by the time I get home from work at 7 pm. Too bad all the dishes are dirty! Whatever. More for The BF to wash that jackass!

And when we get married this life shall continue. When I get a state of the art dishwasher and clothes washer and dryer, my life will be easier. I keep telling myself that, but somehow I don't think it's true. Marriage doesn't make you different. In fact, you pretty much stay the same, except you get fatter and more bitter. There's so much to fucking look forward too in my future, I can't wait to feel that noose tight around my neck!


It occurred to me as I sat in the hall outside my boss's office, that I was afraid. I felt fearful of speaking to my boss.

I wasn't afraid of being fired, or reprimanded in any way. I had done nothing wrong, and yet I had this fear in me. My hands and lips were trembling. I was sweating slightly.

I thought about babies. A baby is born with one fear: loud sounds. That is the only fear humans are born with. As babies grow into children, and teens, some fears are conquered while new ones are born.

I always thought that adults were fearless. Childish fears were just that; childish. But fear stays with a person, no matter how old they are.

You know when you were a kid and you'd get caught doing some bad by a parent or a teacher? I know for myself, I instantly feared what my consequence would be. I didn't want to have to face the adult who was administering my fate. That's kind of how I felt waiting to speak to my boss this morning even though I was innocent.

It's so ridiculous! We're both adults! I can't believe I'm still scared of higher authorities like my boss and even police officers.

The chat with my boss went fine. It was great. She was telling me about how she was trying to get funding approved to keep me hired for another year! If not, I'm getting laid off, but that's besides the point.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Die Happy

This has been one of the best Saturday nights that I have had in a long, long while. I felt like I was in high school. I felt young and sexy... I had 2 girls hitting on me all night. One was a virgin. It was fantastic! There was nobody at the club and my makeshift group of friends for the evening had the dance floor to themselves. I danced how I felt: Like I don't give a damn.

I wasn't even drunk. I was just so high on life. Nostalgia filled my nostrils as my night wound down. This odd, reminiscent feeling washed over me and I couldn't shake it. I felt like pouring my heart out to any aching ear that would listen, but I kept my trap shut.

I drove a girlfriend home that I hadn't seen in literally 10 months! She used to be my best friend, and I think she still is. I still love her to pieces. Some things just never change... she's an amazing person. Every time I hang out with her I fall in love with her personality all over again and remember why she'll always be my best friend.

But then I wanted to die again. I was filled with so much good, positive energy, I had to get rid of it. It was too overwhelming. I sang songs on the radio at the top of my lungs to pass time on the lonely car ride home. I really do just want to die... but I guess in a good way.

A recreation of the night I had won't happen again for a very long time. I must cherish this for as long as I can. But if I kill myself, I won't have to have anxiety anymore about the next party I attend. The next party I attend won't have to live up to standards that were set tonight. I could just die happy. I want to be happy and I also want to die (sometimes) so tonight seems logical in my mind.

Saturday, February 28, 2009


I've been thinking about death a lot lately. I had a bad day at work a few days ago and I just wanted to end it all right there. The BF talked me out of it. Well... he didn't talk me out of it because he didn't know I wanted to die, but he made me feel like not dying. How Sweet.

I also have been thinking about beauty and beautiful people. I want to tell people that they are beautiful to me.

And one last thing... I've been thinking about having my coworkers find my blog. Find it and confront me about it. I'll leave this electronic paper trail on all the computers at work and they'll find me out.

They'll have an intervention. But I'll deny everything I'm feeling about how I want to die all the time.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

2 Things

There are two things that I think about at work.

1. Hanging myself in the office while on a night shift. The cleaning staff won't find me. I'll wait until they leave. I'd feel badly if they found me because they often bring their small children to work with them. Then again I can't feel bad cause I'm dead, but I'd feel badly beforehand I suppose.

The radio person won't find me because I'll wait for that person to leave. Unfortunately my shift ends at 10:45pm and the radio shift ends at midnight. I'll just have to bum around for an hour, or hide out somewhere.

Where I work is a 5 story building. I could potentially do myself in on any of those floors, but the main floor is where it's at. Although, there's a few rooms on the second floor that would be kind of cool to hang myself in and I've put some thought into it.

News stations don't report on suicides. I'm not doing it for the attention. I'm doing it to make a statment. Which I suppose, that's kind of like for attention. But it's different somehow.


2. The other thing I think about at work is making dirty love to a handful of my coworkers. There is one coworker specifically that I would love to have fuck my brains out. He's married (no kids) and much older than I. But he's so cute! He walks with a swagger and his brand of cigarettes gives him a very enticing smell.

When we drive around in the company vehicle together during the night shift, I always have the urge to pull over into a dark alley and have my way with him.

There's a few women that I imagine naked too bccause I think they are beautiful.


Actually, I think 2 coworkers of mine are banging each other now. I know they're both single and I saw them leave the office together tonight... it wasn't suspicious, but just out of the ordinary. I have a hunch they're secretly doing each other. That's so hot. I'd love to fuck a coworker.

The closest I've came to fucking a coworker is fucking a classmate (or several), which was pretty cool, but I think fucking a coworker would be more... exhilerating perhaps?? I don't know. Maybe not.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Say It With Flowers

Here's what somebody had to say about my roses post.

Rachel Tamed said...
Giving people flowers is such a silly thing. Expensive dead treats - may as well hand me a recently killed puppy and tell me to hold on to it until it gets cold!

Everyone is entitled to their opinion, but there's a reason why they saying goes, "say it with flowers."

AMBROSIA - Your Love is Reciprocated
ARBUTUS - Thee Only Do I Love
ASTER - Symbol of Love, Daintiness
AZALEA - Take Care of Yourself For Me
BEGONIA - Beware
CAMELLIA - Good Luck Gift to a Man
CAMELLIA (PINK) - Longing For You
CAMELLIA (RED) - You're A Flame In My Heart
CAMELLIA (WHITE) - You're Adorable
CANDYTUFT - Indifference
CARNATION (PINK) - I'll Never Forget You
CARNATION (RED) - My Heart Aches For You
CARNATION (STRIPPED) - No!, Refusal, Sorry I Can't Be With You
CARNATION (YELLOW) - You Have Disappointed Me, Rejection
CHRYSANTHEMUM (GENERAL) - You're A Wonderful Friend
CYCLAMEN - Resignation and Good Bye
DAFFODIL - You're The Only One, The Sun Is Always Shining When I'm With You
DAISY - I'll Never tell
FORGET ME NOT - True Love, Memories
GARDENIA - You're Lovely
GLADIOLA - Give Me A Break, I'm Really Sincere
GLOXINIA - Love At First Sight
HYACINTH (PURPLE) - I Am Sorry Please Forgive Me, Sorrow
HYACINTH (WHITE) - I'll Pray For You
HYDRANGEA - Thank You For Understanding,
IRIS - Your Friendship Means So Much To Me, My Compliments
JONQUIL - Affection Returned
LILY (WHITE) - It's Heavenly To Be With You
LILY (YELLOW) -I'm Walking On Air
LILY OF THE VALLEY - You've Made my Life Complete
MONKHOOD - Beware, A Deadly Foe Is Near
NARCISSUS - Stay As Sweet As You Are
NASTURTIUM - Conquest, Victory In Battle
PETUNIA - Your Presence Soothes Me
PRIMROSE - I Can't Live Without You
STOCK - You'll Always Be Beautiful To Me
SWEETPEA - Good-bye, Thank You For A Lovely Time
TULIP (RED) - Believe Me, Declaration Of Love
TULIP (VARIEGATED) - Beautiful Eyes
TULIP (YELLOW) -There's Sunshine In Your Smile
VIOLET (BLUE) - I'll Always Be True
VIOLET (WHITE) - Let's Take A Chance On Happiness
VISCARIA - Will You Dance With Me?
WISTERIA - Welcome
ZINNIA (MIXED) - Thinking (or in Memory) Of An Absent Friend

There's many more! I didn't post all of them. I left out the roses' meanings on purpose. Every colour has a different meaning, or multiple meanings. The roses given to me were red which means, I Love You Passionately.

Courting someone with flowers back in the day was how it was done. The best part about it is that you never had to say a word. Everyone knew what the flowers symbolized. And depending on the region someone lived in, not all flowers were available, which is why many flowers have the same meaning.

There's a reason why nobody has stripped carnations at their wedding and nobody hangs mistle toe at a funeral.

You can say a lot with flowers.

Friday, February 20, 2009


I was looking at my ready-to-wilt roses this morning. I plucked one petal off and weaved it through my fingers feeling the silky softness. Roses really are beautiful. Then it occurred to me; Did that hurt? Did the flower feel me desecrate it? Probably not since the flower had been cut. But for argument's sake, let's say it did. Would it feel a pinch similar to when somebody gets a hair pulled from their head?

What if the flower was alive and growing in a pot of soil. Would it feel me rip its petals out? Would it silently cry out or will me to stop killing it?

Do big tall trees feel bald when they lose their leaves? Are they saddened because they have to stand outside in the freezing cold, naked? Do pine trees make fun of them?

Sometimes I feel guilty ripping grass out of the ground, so I try not to when I'm having a picnic or camping or whatever. It feels like I'm ripping out the earth's hair or something. And sometimes the grass is hard to pull out, so you really have to tug on it. It's like the grass doesn't want you to uproot it.

Using the lawnmower is like giving my lawn a haircut. I don't feel bad about doing that. It will grow back.

Watching my roses wilt is bittersweet. I want my roses to be alive and well, but they were dead when I got them. As they decay on my kitchen table, one by one the petals will fall, shrivel, and turn black. I will save them in a jar and remember the time when they were blood red and soft like velvet.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Tipping the Scales

Spent the weekend out of the country. I didn't have sex on valentines day. I was too drunk. I tried... but my boyfriend rejected me after I gave him the worst, most sloppy kiss in the history of bad kisses. He said I kind of shoved my tongue all the way in his mouth, without really keeping any sort of form or control. I did get roses. They still smell nice.

True to my style, I cried myself to sleep. I was drinking long island ice tea, and when all that was gone, I started in on the strawberry cream liquor. I had a terrible hangover in the morning, so I just jumped in the hotel hot tub.

I smoked weed with one of my best friends. I only see this friend once a year, so it was a special treat. He's sort of an unrequited love of mine. We've had a crush on each other for 10 years now, and only have kissed once. Closed mouth. I told him I was getting married. He launched into a million questions about The BF, making sure I was truly happy. I'm not truly happy. I never will be. That's an impossible thing for any to achieve. I lied and said I was.

If you set up a scale where at the bottom is Truly Miserable and at the very top is Truly Happy, you will find that it's impossible for anyone to reach the top of the scale. No matter how far up we get, we always want something else, something more, something better. Nobody is supposed to reach the top. Nobody is supposed to reach the pinnacle of happiness. That would be some sort of paradise or something.

And just forget about all that Dali Llama, Buddah, Zen bullshit. Happiness is temporary. Happiness can be faked. I fake it all the time. And being Truly Happy cannot last for long periods of time like Truly Miserable can.

Truly Miserable can be seen with our own eyes. The feeling can last for decades. Truly Miserable can last forever. The people who have reached Truly Miserable commit suicide and that is the ultimate recognition.

Hey, that guy killed himself. He must have been truly miserable, otherwise he wouldn't have.

Friday, February 13, 2009

Questionable Content

I can't really tell anyone else, so I may as well tell my fellow bloggers...

I had a sexy dream last night.

It was very... involved haha.

Tomorrow I leave on a little weekend getaway with a friend I've known my whole life, Janey, and her boyfriend. The dream was about this friend.

The dream starts where I'm over at her house. There's tons of people there. We're celebrating something. Janey and I leave the party and go into her room to get ready for bed. We always shared a bed during sleep-overs. We started talking about sex with our boyfriends. I think I may have said something about wanting to eat pussy and Janey saying something like she wanted her pussy to get eaten out. We were getting undressed. I had my pants off, and was just wearing a thong. A purple one actually. Kind of like a lilac colour haha. I was just taking my shirt off, when Janey's dad burst through the door. I pulled my shirt back down quickly. For some reason, we had to go with him to help someone do something... I don't even know.

Janey and I leave her room. I'm only wearing a shirt and a thong. We go outside and all of our family is there. My mom asked me to come over and help her with something. Then the police arrive and arrest me for indecent exposure. Apparently it's illegal to show your bare ass in public. I explained to the officer that I had my breasts, anus, and vagina covered... but that wasn't a good enough excuse for not wearing pants. I don't remember being cuffed... but that's where I woke up.

That's my sexy dream.

BUT THEN... I fell back asleep.

I dreamed The BF and I were with Janey and her boyfriend at the hotel room. I pulled her boyfriend aside and told him about how I dreamed that I was going to go down on his girlfriend, but I was too embarrassed to tell her myself in case she thought I was a sick friend. He told me that he'd love to have a foursome.

So we went back to the hotel room. Janey and I got naked and started doing stuff on the bed. I don't want to get too pornographic. Then Janey's boyfriend's came and he lied down on the bed. Janey was on top in this reverse cowgirl position, but leaning back so that I had access to her cunt. I believe I was holding her boyfriend's testicles in one hand, Janey's breast in another, and my face was buried somewhere in the middle haha.

Then my boyfriend came and started doing me doggie. It was the greatest sex dream ever!
I woke up and was late for work. That didn't stop me from quickly masturbating! Jesus! How could I not after a dream like that!

Now, I'm debating if I should say something to them over the weekend. Maybe my wish will come true haha.

Thursday, February 12, 2009


I was originally going to write a post about how I hate my fiancé and will never marry him. But then I changed my mind. I will still marry him.

Sometimes I get these weird glimpses into what married life might be like. I'll come home late from work because I had to stop to pick up a few groceries. I'll have no help carrying them inside or putting them away. The kitchen will be a complete mess. Dirty dishes everywhere, not even rinsed. The floor needs to be swept. Crumbs and spills on the counter need to be wiped up. I'll spend the rest of my evening cleaning the house, not even getting to spend time with my cats, or children for that matter, if I have children. There's half a dozen loads of laundry to be washed that I simply do not have the time to wash, so it increases to 7 loads of laundry! I'll have a migraine 24/7, no matter how much water I drink, or fruit I eat, or amount of sleep and exercise I get.

I'll have deep bags under my eyes, probably gained some weight from having babies... My clothes and makeup will be outdated. My husband will have this huge gut and leave his facial hair trimmings in the sink for me to clean up. My kids will have behavioral problems mommy's too stressed out to pay attention to them, and daddy doesn't give a damn.

Then I'll get so overwhelmed, I'll get a divorce. But because marriage and children have made me ugly, it will take ten years for me to start dating again. By that time the kids will be older and not such a burden on me. All the money that they're daddy's been sending to us in the mail can finally go towards their post-secondary education instead of dildos for me.

Fuck. I'm never getting married. It's going to ruin my life.

Monday, February 9, 2009


My father was trying to call me all weekend. I'd left my phone at home by mistake and never got his messages until this morning - (While waiting for my bus which never came because it was raining and the roads were pure ice. I had to drive to work so I wouldn't be late and paid ten fucking dollars to park for the day!)

He wants me to send him money. I told him if he got off welfare, I'd help support him financially until his rent-assistance money came in. He really hated welfare and I even went and spoke with his councillor on his behalf because he was getting so frustrated with the system. He thought his councillor was incompetent. Turns out she really is. And French too. Not that I have anything against French people, I just thought I'd throw that in.

He wants a "couple hundred dollars." I'll probably send him $250. He asked for the money at a bad time. Last night The BF and I discussed our "wedding" and how much it was going to cost and how much we were going to need to save in order to reach our goal of $5000 each. Ten thousand dollars is the max we're going to spend on eloping to Australia.

It's about 3 grand for one round trip ticket. We're only going to spend a few days in a nice hotel room (so we can have super-awesome-married-people-honey-moon sex!) The rest of our trip will be spent in hostels. I know one person in Australia. I met her this summer. Perhaps she might let us crash for free for a few days with her, or a friend.

Food is going to cost a lot of money. Eating 3 meals a day at restaurants is not cost effective. We'll probably try to buy some food at a grocery store so we're not eating out all the time. The only problem so far that I see is that once we check out of the hotel room, we won't have a safe place to store our belongings. We'll have to drag them along with us everywhere we go. We probably won't rent a car either. We can't leave our crap in a hostel, or it will get stolen. So, we'll have to pack light.

We're not big on the tourist junk. We'll spend a few days at the beach for sure, but we really want to get into the Australian music scene, and make some friends at a sweet concert or something. I want to see Australian wildlife!

We're going to have to save at least 3 hundred each a month if we want to reach our goal of having $5000 each by February 2010. Now because of Dad I'm already one month behind. Fucker.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

In Conclusion

Here's the thing about LAN parties... They're really cool because if you get enough friends together, usually 4-8 people altogether, you can all play the same game in the same room at the same time. No stupid headset chatter... you can plan attacks easier... heckle your friends... it's a good time.

The LAN games that I prefer to play include Ages of Empires, and Worms World Party. 2 very awesome games... old ones, mind you, but excellent nonetheless! I prefer playing computer games as opposed to x-box or play station games.

The LAN party I was at was all about the X-Box 360 games. Super lame and boring. I don't play video games. I don't own any gaming consoles.

And just so everyone is clear... I was at a LAN party from 1pm until 7pm. That's 6 hours of being in a cramped one bedroom apartment with 7 other people. The BF and I actually arrived late to the party. It had started at 10:30 am.

We left briefly just after 7 to go back to the house we were staying at. The BF tried to seduce me, but failed. Not because I rejected him, but because we were in his friends' house and he felt awkward. I didn't feel awkward. I'll fuck anywhere. The bed was kind of squeaky though.

The BF and I had a fight that night about how I never wanted to go back there again. He felt as though I was personally attacking him and shrugging off his "most important friendships." I told him that his friends are very nice people, but I have nothing in common with them.

They really are very nice. They just also happen to be really into things that I'm not into and think are boring. I told him that if we had never moved away, hanging out with his friends would have been a deal breaker because I would never want to hang out with them, we'd fight about it, and eventually break up. But because we did move away, it's not a deal breaker, and if he wants to drive out there to go visit them by himself, by all means, he can go do it! I'm just not coming because there is NO POINT!!!

The BF was very offended. He asked if I was going to disregard the new friends he's made in the city we live in now. I said no. I actually like those people. I like them because they are social; they talk about music that I listen to, politics, books, movies, and just other random and weird things of interest to me. They don't spend all day in front of the damn television set playing first person shooter games for 8 straight hours! THEY HAVE A LIFE!

The BF was quiet for a moment. Then he said, well, I guess you're right.

Thank you. I know. I'm always right. Obviously.

On Sunday, we went skating before we left to go back home, just the two of us. It was enjoyable and I think I'd like to go skating more often.

Saturday, February 7, 2009

Kill Me

As I type this I am currently at a LAN party in a city that I hate, accompanied by people that I have nothing in common with.

The BF wanted to visit his friends in the city we went to college in. All my friends that used to live in this city have pretty much left because of job offerings in other cities. There are 3 people here in the city that I know.

The people at the LAN party I'm at are all The BF's friends. They are nerds. I'm so depressed.

I started drinking at 1:00 pm because I thought that it would help me get through the day. Perhaps the liquid courage would help ease me into a social situation that I want nothing to do with. No such luck.

I'm bored to tears. Literally. I feel like crying. Alcohol does that to me. And these two guys were sharing a huge joint and didn't offer it to anybody else. I guess nobody else smokes pot but those two? Anyway, I thought it would be too presumptuous to ask for a hoot... I didn't feel comfortable since I barely know these people. The polite thing to do is light a joint, take a drag, then offer it around once. If nobody takes the bait, then it's all yours. It smelled so good my mouth watered!

Sigh. I hate this city. I just want to leave so bad!!! There's a reason I stayed just long enough to graduate then got the hell out! I used to have friends here too, but, like me, they also stayed just long enough to graduate then left for bigger and better things.

I feel so fucking awkward. Like... inadequate as a person. I always start off so shy... I have a hard time making friends, I guess.

I'm terrible at joining in on a pre-fabricated group of friends! I'm the outsider. The new kid. I can't connect with everyone at once, and I'm not witty or funny, so I can't really tell a joke that will make everyone laugh and instantly like me.

One on one is good. I like trying to befriend just one person. An entire group though!!!! Fuck, it's impossible!!! It's overwhelming.

I wish somebody would just put me out of my misery this weekend.

Friday, February 6, 2009


This post will most definitely get cut off short tonight... My fiance doesn't know about this blog and I don't want him to ever find it and he's coming home soon.

I liked the comment I received on my previous post. I wanted to respond to it.

A) I refer to my boyfriend as The BF and my fiance interchangeably. He's a very good boyfriend. My dad always asks me, "hows that friend of your's doing? Does he hit ya?" "No Dad. My boyfriend doesn't hit me."

He's a very sweet guy. We're getting married on March 1st 2010 in Australia. Eloping. Nobody knows about it... except you guys yay! How much does the average wedding cost? Too fucking much, that's how much! People will spend $10,000 on their wedding easily. I think weddings are a huge waste of time and money. The only reason why I want to get married is for the social status, otherwise I'm perfectly comfortable staying common law.

So, if I was going to spend thousands of dollars for a piece of paper, I'm going to do it my way!

Luckily my boyfriend loved my idea of sticking it to our families and getting hitched without anyone knowing. We're breaking a lot of hearts doing what we're doing, but don't they always say, "It's your special day!!!" fuckers.

Plus, as a practicing atheist, I refuse to be married in a church, or other holy setting, or by a priest, or other holy figure head. I'm getting married for the government status, so the justice of the peace will be marrying us!

I didn't realize I'd painted such a negative picture of my fiance. I can assure you we are soul mates and have amazing sex. Not that you brought up my sex life, but for all I know you're questioning that next!

B) I don't hate my job and I don't want to get a new job or change jobs! I went to school for this and I landed a pretty sweet gig out of college. I'm not turning my back on it yet. I'm in it for the long run! My AD position only lasts until the end of next week, then the regular gets back from his trip to Disney Land and I move on to a different position.

Haven't you ever had a stressful day at work and bitched about it to someone? This job IS what I want to do in life, thank you very much!

I should have written a better post... I've had several things come to mind at work, but blogging at work makes me squirrely and now I've forgotten what I was going to say. Having a secret blog is hard! Everything has to be so fucking secretive, you know?

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Feels like Punch You in the Face

Today doesn't feel like suicide. It feels like Punch You in the Face. Not you, the reader... The BF, more so.

At times I can have the most stressful job on the planet. Other times, it can be the easiest, most slack 8 hours; It all depends on which position I've been scheduled for. The particular position I've been scheduled for, for the next 2 weeks is AD. I'm not going to tell you what my job is, or what AD stands for, but trust me, it's fucking difficult to do and the person who was trained to do it before me used to cry every night at the end of her shift. She'd feel terrible and bake everybody delicious goodies to make up for it. She's not around anymore.

So the day begins with me missing my bus because I took too long getting ready this morning. I have a car, so I drive to work. I park in the pay-lot (that's all there is where I work) and I put in the money to pay for a day of parking. One of the tickets gets stuck in the machine and won't come out. I tried everything, even pliers, to get the damn thing out. I ended up leaving there and wasting a dollar.

I arrive to work 15 minutes late and already it's fucking started. Toronto is calling, they need this, that and the other thing, half the staff has no idea what the fuck is going on. Whatever. We get though it, like always.

The day goes by fine enough. I had a very relaxing and well-deserved lunch break. The last 3 hours of my shift we're boarderline hell, however.

Phone rings.
Hey, can you find this for me?
Phone rings.
Hey can you ingest this for me?
Phone rings.
Hey, where is that stuff I asked for?
Phone rings.
Hey, has this come in for me yet?
Phone rings.
Hey, has this person called yet?
Phone rings.
Hey, can you fix this mistake I found?
Phone rings.
Hey, did you know about this thing that's happening?
It's fucking never-ending!
I am a yes-man! Yes, I can find that, do this, fix that, help you... with every one of your specific wishes and needs!

The next 3 weekends in a row I'll be traveling to a different city to meet with old friends and to shop! I'm really excited! Like I said, my best friends don't even live in the same city as me. I phoned the BF to ask him to make arrangement with his friends for us to stay with them for one night while we're passing through to visit some of my friends. He said he would.

I also asked him if he could wash some dishes before I got home from work. I asked if he could at least wash half because we currently have no cutlery, no plates, or bowls, or glasses, or pots or pans... ect. I told him I'm having a busy day and when I get home I'm going to be starving and I want to make supper, but we don't have any clean dishes to make food. And if we wash them together when I get home, we won't be eating until 10 o'clock.

He got upset. He whined. He bitched.

I pleaded. I got angry. I gave up.

He gets off work at 4:30 and I get off at 7:15.
He gets home from work at 5:00 and I get home from work at 7:30.

That is 2 and a half hours where he can at least help out a little, you know?

I got home at 7:30 and turned on the hot water and started washing. At 9:00pm I was finished. The BF dried the dishes. He also swept the kitchen floor and scooped the kitty litter and took out the trash. He did this without asking. The only reason why he did this without asking is because he knew I was mad at him. He can't stand it when I'm mad at him. I use this to my advantage.

It's just so aggravating that he couldn't spend 20 or 30 minutes to wash some of the dishes that were needed so I could start supper when I got home so we weren't eating at fucking 10 o'clock! I didn't even make supper.

The BF offered and I declined. He's a terrible cook. He asked me what I was going to make then, and I told him he could fucking starve for all I cared because I wasn't making him anything to eat. I'm so hungry right now, but the kitchen is so clean, I don't really want to dirty any dishes. I guess I'll just wait until breakfast tomorrow, if I even have time to eat breakfast tomorrow morning.

All I really want right now is to punch that whiny baby I call a boyfriend in the fucking face.