All ways here are my ways
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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in the "porcine logolept" journal:[<< Previous 20 entries]
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12:33 pm
![[User Picture]](http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/8858570/1311837) [Link] |
Open letter
Look. You are hurting me. I am hurt and scared and very, very sad. It makes you uncomfortable to see me upset and I'm sorry, but I'm not going to put it away for you. I'm not going to let you forget or pretend that I'm fine. I am not fine. You bought that. You own that. Now see it and know that it's yours.
This is not a guilt trip. This is not the silent treatment. This is the grief and pain that you chose.
I am not fine.
You bought it. You own it.
Caveat emptor.
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08:04 pm
[Link] |
N-E-BREE-8-ED
Drunk and posting to LJ on Saturday night. Yes pretties, this is my life. Furthermore, posting to LJ because the Farmboy and I aren't speaking. Why yes, I think that's entirely healthy. Why do you ask?
And now, list!
1. I *am* a pretty (relatively) young thing. Why *do* I drink like an old black man? (This message brought to you by the liquor store clerk, who wonders why I drink 7-and-7s)
2. I am so tense at this point that every muscle in my body is aching. Which is lovely, honestly.
3. Why doesn't everybody know about the marvelous restorative powers of Seagrams? Seriously, my headache has vanished.
4. I think that anxiety, paranoia, fear, whatever is probably part of human nature. It's the basis of all religion, afterall. Thank you Jesus for our blessings. Please don't let the world end tomorrow--here, have this lovely virgin for your trouble.
5. I should know more people. People whom I can call in the event of Saturday-night-lonely drinking. Why don't I know more people.
6. Also people who will welcome me into their homes in the aftermath of the Friday night fights, when I feel unwelcome in what's meant to be my home. One of the worse parts of the whole kerfluffle last night was the realization that I didn't want to be *here*, but there was no where else I could go. I could have gone to a hotel, I suppose, but who can afford a hotel these days?
7. KERFLUFFLE!!
8. YURT!!
9. It would be nice if I could meet these people before tomorrow night when the Farmboy goes on his date with the ex-yurt-dweller. Last night was bad, tonight is worse, but tomorrow night? Oh man.
10. There should be ten items on a list, right? Hmmm...oh. I do not think I'm being unreasonable. Then again, unreasonable people never do. But still...decent people do not behave that way, do they?
Aside: Even drunk, LJ's spell checker only picks up "Farmboy," "Seagrams," "Kerfluffle" and "Hmmm." How awesome am I??
Edited further to add: I guess it's not fair to call her an ex-yurt-dweller, because they never acutally *completed* construction of the yurt. Ex-yurt-*hopeful*, I guess.
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07:52 pm
![[User Picture]](http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/16211839/1311837) [Link] | Apparently there are guns secreted all over my fucking house.
I am *not* happy to learn this. I am even less happy that I have lived here for over a fucking year and have never been informed of the myriad of deadly fucking weapons just lying around unsecured. Remember that I also have a six-year-old boy running around the house (also largely unsecured)--is this arrangement in any way appropriate?
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01:17 pm
[Link] |
It'll do until the mess gets here
Farmboy has offered to cool it with Yurtle until our relationship feels more stable. In addition, he said he'd let me know--that we'd decide *together*--when that point comes. So it's not like he's just going to pacify me for a few days and then take back up with her at random.
I do not feel vindicated or triumphant; in fact I feel a little bit guilty. But I also feel grateful and very, very loved. 'S good.
I am by nature a fairly suspicious overthinking kind of person, and so I need to be mindful of that. I need to make a conscious decision to trust that when he says he's "fishing" that he's *not* sneaking off to bang the hairy chick in a hayloft or something. He's given me no reason to mistrust him (though the neurotic and watchful part of my brain needs to append: "Not yet, but he could at any time, at *any* *time* and so you need to be alert. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!!!") CONSTANT VIGILANCE is sort of exhausting and probably no way to build a life.
Apropos of nothing, we watched No Country for Old Men last night and I was really impressed. I wasn't expecting to like it as a)I don't like shoot-em-up action movies, b)Unlike the rest of the universe I do *not* think the Coen brothers hung the moon and c)Cormac McCarthy's books sort of make me wish I'd never learned to read. The movie was *amazing*, though, and further cemented my deep and abiding love for Tommy Lee Jones. Seriously, I love Tommy Lee Jones forever and ever. Oh, and! Garret Dillahunt on the big screen! I missed that cunt-eyed backshooting cocksucka!
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08:09 am
[Link] | Note: everything that appears inside quotation marks is in fact a direct quote, reproduced exactly as it was said. Unlike *some people*, I *pay attention* and can remember *exactly* what the words were. Ahem. Carry on.
Farmboy has a date with YurTina tonight.
Cloven: "Will you be staying there?"
Farmboy: "I'm not sure. Why?"
C: "Because I'd like to know one way or the other so I don't worry and wonder about it all day."
F: "I'm not sure yet. I don't guess so. I didn't receive an invitation to stay. So probably not. Unless I guess she asks me to stay, and I don't know how that's going to happen since her kids are at her parents' and we agreed that's a bad idea. So I don't know. We'll see."
C: "Why is it hard to just *decide* 'No, I haven't been invited so I won't be staying'?
F: "You've got a point there. Ok. I won't be staying."
6:30 this morning I wake up to the sound of his rummaging around in the closet.
C: "What are you doing?"
F: "Packing a bag in case I do end up staying tonight."
C: "You said you weren't going to stay!"
F: "I did. So I won't. See you tonight."
*stompstompstompSLAM*
(Aside: I'm not sure that the slamming was a mark of his being pissed off; he *always* slams the door. It's one of those that swings back on its own and instead of *closing* the door like a civilized person he just lets it slam behind him when he goes out.)
Also, the YurTina/Yurtle question is moot; I'm not supposed to call her anything other than her name, which I'm not supposed to say with a derisive inflection. Apparently, he is "not here for my amusement, and neither are [his] friends."** He thinks I'm judgmental and intolerant. Probably I am (in the sense that I have no qualms about laughing at things/people I find laughable, and I find *everything* laughable on some level). But when I give people clever nicknames it's not *always* snarkiness. We know lots of people named Deb, but when I say Yurtle y'all know exactly to whom I'm referring. I tend to do that with people/things/concepts that are new and intimidating--I reduce them to a manageable size, make them silly so they're not quite so scary. Riddikulus!
Oh, and? AND? He apparently told her that his relationship with me is "pretty serious." Not *serious*, not straight-out unmitigated *serious* or *important* or *established* or *solid*, just "pretty serious."
We actually had reallyreally excellent stimulating drunken sex last night. Which is great, but I sort of resent the fact that...well, I've been talking and talking and talking about this problem for *months*, but he didn't bother to address it until it became an obstacle to his agenda. Like I'm in his way, like "let's do this to shut Sarah up so I can go have real sex with the hippie lady." It wasn't important enough to fix until it interfered with *his* happiness.
*sighs* I don't know. I'm scattered and random and hurt and panicked today. Probably everything will work out eventually.
**WRT his friends not being here for my amusement: He somehow fails to understand that you're *all* here for my amusement. Dance for me, my pretties! Ahhahahahahahahahahahahahaha
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08:21 pm
[Link] | Note: I have been drinking. A. Lot. And very quickly.
I wish I had the capability to post polls. I'd ask y'all which is a better nickname for the NewGirlfriend:
Yurtina
or
Yurtle
LeStrange says Yurtle is better because it just *sounds* like someone who'd be hairy. And I'm led to believe that this lady is *extremely* hairy. Still, "YurTina" has a certain ring to it.
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04:07 pm
![[User Picture]](http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/20159040/1311837) [Link] | Maybe I wouldn't hate text messaging so much if I knew how to use the "word" function on my telephone. Or if the people who insist on sending me text messages would refrain from using the word "text-ing," which makes me want to barf.
I truly despise cutesy little nicknames for things. "Hoodie," for example. "Text-ing." "RPG tube" (don't get me started on the military in general or Generation Kill in particular; y'all *don't* want me to go there). Acronyms piss me off, as well. (Aside: though there are elements of Generation Kill that I find interesting, I hate that show so much that I want to keep watching just so I can hate it *more* It's moderately hilarious though, and if you're not watching it you should be.)
The Farmboy is terrible about this; he apparently has a moral aversion to calling things what they are. Y'all should see his grocery lists: "CoM-S, SpagSau, H2OFil, 1/2&1/2." It kills me.
Call it what the fuck it *is*, assholes. I promise you're not saving anybody any time by verbally abbreviating.
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10:18 am
[Link] | I haven't posted any pictures of the Jabberwock lately, and I thought this was especially adorable.
( People who post photos of their kids on LJ are obnoxious. Hi, I'm Sarah. Have we met? )
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10:52 am
[Link] | I'm dying of angst and teh lonely today, and therefore have reopened the chatlines. I'm on Yahoo as clovenpine, and on AIM as ClovenSarah. If you're so inclined and have nothing better to do...hit me up, yo.
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11:45 pm
[Link] | Eats. Shoots. Leaves. Resolves never to order the chicken-fried steak ever again, because it's always a disappointment.
I've resolved to improve my punctuation. Improve and *standardize*, even, because my commas are totally unpredictable and out of control. Probably 2/3 of the time I *know* where the commas belong and omit or include them for clarity/tone/dramatic effect. The other third...well, I'm flying blind. Same with the semicolons, and don't even get me *started* on the dashes and/or ellipses.
Mostly I want to know the rules so that I can break them more effectively. Because that is how I roll, pretties. And always remember that chicken-fried steak is far more appealing in theory than in practice.
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03:23 pm
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Fucking Spring
What is *wrong* with you people? For the last two weeks there's been nothing but hot sex posts on my friends list. Seriously, do y'all think I have nothing better to do with my time than masturbate over LJ?
Making it worse is the fact that there is very little sex taking place around here, and what sex there is...isn't exactly like the sex I've been reading about. To make the understatement of the fucking century.
There are several sexfriends posts percolating in my brain; I've even started one or two. But somehow posting about it makes it worse, so I'm holding off for a bit until I get my thoughts straight. Or maybe until winter, when y'all are posting about soup and Seasonal Affective Disorder instead of trying to make me crazy with the sex.
Edit: HOTBED!!! My friends list is a hotbed of hot sexposts!!! Hah! I kill me.
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10:00 am
![[User Picture]](http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/48025751/1311837) [Link] | I love having people on my friends lists whose posts provoke me into making posts of my own. To catch y'all up on the backstory, this incredibly hot chick on my friends list made a post yesterday about being uncomfortable with strangers touching her. I replied that I have a terrible habit of touching strangers and that luckily nobody has punched me out for it yet.
I do this all the time, most often when I'm trying to get by someone in my way or trying to get the attention of a person whose back is to me. I'll touch or grasp his or her elbow and say, "Excuse me honey/sweetie/darlin/etc."
I've always done it, and down home it's perfectly acceptable. Before I moved up here people warned me, "You'll have to be careful with that after you move; Yankees hate to be touched and they hate it when you call them 'honey.'" Good advice, maybe, but it hasn't stopped me from doing it yet. And I haven't yet encountered a bad reaction from anyone I've approached this way.
Someone said to me once, "you've never met a stranger, have you?" I think that's a big part of the reason I haven't been beaten or jailed yet. Nobody *wants* to be touched by a stranger--I don't think anybody leaves his house thinking, "Man, I hope a stranger touches me today!"--but I don't think that most people whom I touch have that "Oh god a stranger is touching me!" reaction. Because of my physical presence and my accent and my body language I feel familiar, comfortable, non-threatening--not like a stranger. Just the other day at my embarrassing retail job (which I secretly love) a customer handed me her four-month-old baby and said, "Here Sarah, hold him for me for a second." People at the store ask me to hold their purses, let me lift their kids, offer to hold or carry or grab things for me, tell me all their personal details, hug me pat me fluff my hair...I've never met a stranger. I love it. I love that I can make people feel that comfortable, that soon, without having to work for it. Every time a person I've only just met hugs me or calls me honey or says, "Will you grab my purse for a second" it's a *huge* boost to my self-esteem. It's what makes me feel like a good and valuable and worthwhile person.
The other aspect here is that I'm pretty good at reading posture and body language and expression and I just don't touch people whom I perceive as...well, the term that comes to my mind is "high-strung." That's not exactly fair, because I know that not wanting to be touched does not mean that a person is high-strung or standoffish or whatever. But I can generally tell when a person is likely to react badly to being approached in my typical familiar way and so I change my tack. With those people I stand a little farther away, I smile less and less broadly, I vary eye contact, I keep my hands visible, slow and at or above waist-level. I ma'am or sir instead of honey. I say "let me know" instead of "holler at me." I don't particularly enjoy interactions like that, but I can tell that those people appreciate being approached and treated that way and so I'm satisfied.
I don't want to give y'all the impression that I behave unprofessionally. I don't think familiarity and professionalism are mutually exclusive. You get the same type of service; it's just the (verbal *and* nonverbal) language that differs. "Let me know if you have any questions" is the same as "Holler at me if I can do anything for you"; "You finding everything ok, honey?" is the same as "Ma'am, can I help you find anything?" They all go away happy and well-cared-for, they all get the same experience.
So my point here is: have no fear--if you're a stranger, I won't touch you. ;)
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11:29 pm
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List format
There are things that I want to talk with y'all about, but don't quite merit their own posts. Behind a cut to save your friends pages. ( Girlfriend, wedding, manners, etc. )
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05:18 pm
[Link] | Why is it that when I'm looking at porn or napping there are plenty of people who want to talk to me, but when I'm a flaming ball of rage nobody answers the fucking phone?
I've resolved to stop making bitchy posts about the Farmboy, but sometimes it's a hard resolution to keep. Asshole can fuck off next to a lamp; I'm about ready to hang this up and go back to BumFuckNoWhere.
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10:59 am
![[User Picture]](http://l-userpic.livejournal.com/20462165/1311837) [Link] | When the Farmboy came home yesterday I said, "I have a post and comments for you to read, but first I want to have a hypothetical conversation. Let's pretend I'm making toast..."
And pretties, it was fucking *verbatim*. Hilarious.
Thanks to all of you for your comments and advice; it was illuminating for both of us. It turns out that lots of people don't have a strong toast preference, and that's a difficult thing for me to understand. But at least it's not that he's just *weird* (at least not in that way) or consciously *not* telling me things--he honestly just doesn't care. Good to know.
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06:56 pm
[Link] | I got the most *interesting* compliment today. ( Read more... )
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04:50 pm
[Link] | 1. The Hudsucker Proxy is on my HBO OnDemand this month; I haven't seen that movie in *years*. Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous. All those art deco corners.
2. There's egg in my hair. Take a lesson, pretties; when blowing eggs ponytail = prudence.
3. I have not yet vacuumed as I planned and my laundry is only half-done. Sex was accomplished.
4. I still don't like sex in the middle of the day.
5. I completely redecorated the rat cage and the boys are much much happier. Hopefully there will now be fewer "Get out of my ass, ya dirty rat!" fights. At least Remy will have somewhere to hide when Jaws goes all big-boss-rat on him.
6. I packed away the flann-ann-el sheets today and brought out the new 600-thread count ones. I now have the most luxurious bedroom *ever*.
7. Farmboy's back with the vinegar. You in the jungle, baby...time to dye!
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11:27 am
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boycotting the boycott
I don't know what everybody's so worked up about. (Aside: I've read all the rants and conspiracy theories, so don't bother linking those. I've also read the ToS, see, and I don't feel they've been violated. I won't be going anywhere and I suspect few LJ users will actually leave, despite threats and great gnashing of teeth. That's bad for your gums, you know. Anyways.) Probably I'll be journal-spamming all day long, because that. is. how. I. roll, bitches.
We're going to blow and color eggs this afternoon. Probably I'll make a delicious frittata with the leftover egg guts.
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01:36 pm
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*nom nom nom*
Temple Grandin on why fat girls give better head:
Perhaps when you genetically increase an animal's desire to eat, you also increase its desire to use its mouth.
Heh.
Seriously, Animals in Translation is fabulous. Great information about brain structures and functions in animals and autistic people, and a really unique voice where she's not in the least afraid to say things like, "I don't know why this happens; it just does." I highly recommend it.
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04:19 pm
[Link] | If you do (x)thing which annoys me, I will say, "You did (x)thing, and it upset me because (y)." You may answer, "I'm sorry I upset you; I did (x) because (z)."** There may be more discussion after this in which I concede that (x) is a perfectly acceptable thing to do and that I've overreacted to (x). But the salient part of the conversation is:
"(X) upset me."
"I'm sorry I upset you..."
We can have this conversation several times. I'm a reasonable person, and (x) may be a habit for you or you may forget that (x) upsets me.
However, this offer does expire. After we've had this conversation...oh, let's say a dozen times, you are no longer allowed to apologize. By this time you know that (x) upsets me and you have chosen to do it anyway. Clearly you are not sorry that you've upset me, or you wouldn't. fucking. do. that. anymore.
**Please note that "I'm sorry I upset you" is acceptable in this (and any) context; "I'm sorry you're upset" is not. I don't go around getting upset all by myself, Sparky. "I'm sorry I upset you" does not imply that you agree that your behavior was *wrong*; it simply acknowledges that I feel as I do and that you regret that you played a part in making me feel that way. It's a semantic argument, yes, but I feel it's an important distinction. I am not an hysteric; don't talk to me as though I were.
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