fault finder

It was an insidious thing.  One that crept up on a person without them seeing it coming.  In fact it could be upon them for sometime chiseling away at their self-esteem and self worth and they still might notice it there.  Though after a while 'it' would make itself known and the person would finally realise that insecurity and self doubt was niggling at the seams.

This is what had been happening to her over the years she had known him.  The odd comments always stuck out yet they were overshadowed by the sweet romantic things he did, such as the ruby earrings he presented as a gift.  While she remembered the negative comments with her elephant like memory she had never really dwelled on any of it.  Or so she thought.

Years later however cracks were beginning to show.  When she walked into a room full of people there were these loud sounds and words in her head constantly.  Am I good enough?  Am I attractive enough?  Will people like me?  Will I annoy them?  Say the wrong thing?  Pull an ugly face?  Put people off me?  Make them hate me?

She recalled a time before she'd met him when she had actually liked herself, been quite confident to the point of cocky, had admired her many talents and good qualities.  Nowadays she seemed riddled with self doubt and self loathing.  Nothing she did gave her back that feeling of self-worth.  Thinking back in a futile attempt to figure out how and where it had all started there was no date or time she could come up with.

All that appeared were the names he had called her, the statements he had made over the years: you're lazy, you don't dress sexy enough, you sit on your ass all day doing nothing, you wear too much black, I don't find you attractive, you don't do enough around the house, disappointing, embarrassing, annoying, don't meet my expectations, that outfit looked better on the dummy, should you be eating that, you'll never lose weight, next time do a better job, do you honestly think you do a good enough job, you're friends have stopped talking to you because you did or said something wrong, no one wants to be your friend because you're annoying.

So many years.  So many statements, insults, the put-downs and fault finding.  It all lead to her slow demise.  On the one hand she was still aware of her good qualities and attributes and still vaguely aware that others saw these in her.  Still, no matter what she did or said, or what others did or said, he couldn't see her qualities or attributes.  Or if he did see them he found it far more easy (and seemingly beneficial?) to point out her failings.  He would have his little digs and she would either ignore them knowing them to be false or fire up and demand he take back his statement.  Yet even this was taking it's toll on her.  It angered her and made her feel like a failure that she couldn't get him to see her strengths.  Couldn't get him to count his blessings.  Couldn't get him to to stop searching for, finding and pointing out her failings.  She knew he liked and even loved her and yet she couldn't help but wonder... who treats someone they love this way?

The questions now remained: how long could she live like this, how long could she keep up the fight for respect, how much longer until he chiseled away at what ever dignity she had left, how long would she stay with him before realising he was probably always going to find fault with her (he saw it as his job, his role) and that she should turn away now before irreparable damage was done.

train story .. try hard homey dude

A white try hard 'homey' dude and his friend sat near me talking as loud as they could, as if I needed to hear what they were saying.  As if anyone needed to hear what they were saying.  The older of the two, 15, as white as, talking in what he called his 'niger' accent.  Talking about wanting to be black and laying black chicks.  He spoke crudely and crass, he swore and used the 'c' word often.  He was irritating and horrible.  I don't know if he was quoting some black comedian when he began talking about a black girl who wasn't really black.  When she pulled down her knickers to reveal her 'c' she had a white ass and pussy.  Charming!  Real nice.  I guessed he was quoting someone coz I find it hard to believe a try hard wanna be loser like him had ever seen a pussy.  When the two boys got off the train the younger one said, "You're disgusting" to his friend.  I got the feeling he wasn't all that pleased to be in such company.  I spoke out to them, "You're telling me!"

two types of people

bridezilla - story part four

I had now settled in to my own place, not returned interstate where my lover was, but staying near my bestie.  My bestie and I spoke about the horrors of the wedding often, me needing to vent vent vent and let it all out!

M comes back from her honeymoon and phones me complaining about how bad the honeymoon was and how sick she'd been - all about her and her woes.  She'd had an atopic pregnancy while on honeymoon and took great pleasure in describing to me the horror of it and the effect it had on her honeymoon.  I wanted to be sympathetic yet she is so negative ALL of the time, to me it was yet another negative story and I didn't really want to hear it.  [I'd had an atopic pregnancy before and it didn't kill me, not even nearly.  Get over it you pathetic piece of shit.]  I wanted to hear something positive.  The honeymoon was great, perfect, so romantic - but that wasn't to be.  She also thanked me for all the help and support I'd given her over the weeks before her wedding.  At this piece of bullshit I drew the line and said outright, "That's not what I heard" and proceeded to tell her how she'd complained I wasn't giving enough, doing enough, how I was all take and no give and used and abused her generosity.  How she'd told people I didn't help around the house when I had.  How she'd told people I hadn't paid for anything when I'd spend thousands of dollars on her and her wedding.  How she'd told people I hadn't paid for my nails when her mum had offered to pay for them.

Her response.  She denied ever having said any of it.  Told me it was everybody else opinion of me that I was hearing and they were just saying it was her because they didn't want to admit how they felt.  In the end she insisted she had loved having me stay at her house and was so very thankful with how much I had helped out.  Saying she hoped we were still friends and that she's glad we've sorted everything out.  I believed her.  I don't know why.  I guess she was just very convincing.  For all of about an hour when my lover phoned me to ask me what I'd said to M that upset her so badly.  Huh?

Turns out she'd found his long distance number on her phone bill (which i paid for, she was never out of pocket) and decided to phone him, telling him that she tried to get me to understand how much she'd done for me and how much I had been all take and no give, claiming that she just couldn't get me to see reason.  Could he perhaps speak to me and set me straight.  On the one hand it was SO incredibly out of line for her to call him and bag me to him.  How dare she!  On the other hand it finally cinched the deal for me and for the first time my lover realised I had been telling the truth about her all along.  He said to me, "She's crazy!"  Yes!  I shouted.  That's what I've been saying all along.  She is full of shit and cannot tell it to my face to save herself.  She is a total liar and a major backstabber.

She wanted to look good all the time, to never be the one who looked bad in people's eyes.  This extended to her putting others down constantly to make herself look good.  She loved playing the victim and loved monopolising the conversation with her woeful attention seeking stories.

Getting copies of wedding photos was yet another saga with M asking me if I was only using her for the photos or was I still her friend?  My reply was that I'm entitle to those photos since I'm in them and I'll never be her friend again.

Of course it didn't end there.  I ended up getting phone calls and texts from her now husband and his friends, including the bridesmaid, trying to convince me I was wrong and I hadn't treated her with the respect she so deserved, after she'd opened her house and heart to me all I had done was use her and take her for all she could give.  What kind of bitch was I to treat such a giving person so badly?  She was right and I was wrong and they knew that for a fact, they said.  I also got prank calls in the middle of the night, them thinking it was funny to harass me.

In one such phone conversation with the bridesmaid, she was telling me how much she had liked me and how cool she thought I was but now she realised I wasn't really a nice person.  How I'd only done those things, like wedding trinkets by myself, so I could pretend to have helped out.  Suggesting I had ulterior motives for the few generous things I did do - to try and look good.  I told her she doesn't know what she's talking about.  If she thinks M bags me a lot she should have heard how often and how much M bagged her during my time there.  I told her, "If you think you were spared you're sadly mistaken".  She went quiet a moment, I could hear some type of kerfuffle (like I was on speaker phone and M was listening) then she abruptly said she had to go.  I know for a fact M was standing in the room with her at the time, she'd been feeding the bridesmaid stories in order to get her to phone me in the first place.  Would have loved to be a fly on the wall after that conversation.

Eventually it all stopped and people left me alone - though there was some residual family fallout as family members heard from her how bad I was and I never got a chance to defend myself.

I never heard from M and to this day we're no longer friends and never will be.  She cannot see how wrong she was and how she was the abuser not me.  She was the one who chewed me up and spat me out like some piece of shit on the bottom of her shoe, after all I had done for her (not the other way around).  I know her game.  She doesn't like herself much and bagging others and making out they're so horrible and awful builds herself up - only it doesn't really.  She knows she's a backstabbing bitch underneath all that pretend generosity and fake niceness.  Bottom line is it's hard to be friends with somebody that insecure that they'd treat others, their only friend no less, so badly.  No wonder she has no friends.  She's simply too self absorbed, too busy playing victim and martyr, too busy being fake to ever form a genuine friendship.

Less than a year later she had her husband had split up and less than two years later divorced.  As ridiculous as it is, to this day I've wanted to contact him and his friends and ask them if they ever realised I was right!

bridezilla - story part three

I am so angry I phone my interstate lover to vent, telling him she is sending me insane and I can't do this anymore.  I want out!  He settles me down, claiming it's not as dramatic as it seems and plans to come down and visit me soon.

The following day I phone the beauty salon where M had booked a facial for me for my birthday (even though I'd already had one) and cancelled the appointment.  I didn't want to be all take and no give.  In fact I outright didn't want to accept another thing from her!  The salon phones M telling them I was really rude to them and M comes home and gives me an ear bashing for being rude to the salon lady.  I don't care.  It's all bullshit.  I wasn't rude.  Only hurt.  I tell M I don't want to be all take and no give.  She gets my point but doesn't really get it.  She simply thinks I'm being rude and sarcastic.

Later on the bridesmaid comes over and isn't speaking to me.  I assume it's because she's angry at me for the unnecessary reaming she got the night before.  I want to pull the bridesmaid aside and clarify  the phone call however M beats me to it, dragging her into her bedroom.  They're in there for over an hour, no doubt M backstabbing me.  M had been vacuuming when the bridesmaid arrived even though I had vacuumed the previous day and I saw her whisper to the bridesmaid about me.  Mostly likely saying, "Look at her sitting there doing nothing while I vacuum." When they come out they're both not talking to me.  And we're off to get practice makeup done.  It was really awkward and awful with all the animosity and snubbing going on.

My birthday fell at the time I was at M's house.  I planned on organising something with my bestie and other friends (I haven't seen in years) however M tells me she has something planned for me so not to plan anything, make sure I'm home.  I plan nothing for my birthday only to find what M had planned was a mudcake for my birthday.  Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the fact that she did something, while at the same time I think, for a mudcake, I couldn't have been doing something much more amazing and fun with my friends.  I'd gotten hors d'oeuvres out, all diet food since M was starving herself to be a size 6 for her wedding, and made black Russians for us all to celebrate my birthday.  M has just a sip of the drink and a slither of cake, hoping that I'll eat the rest.  I am aware by this stage she has been trying to fatten me up since my arrival.  She continually came home with fattening foods such as shortbread cookies, chocolate and now mudcake all for me to polish off.  I'd been having none of it, throwing it out when she wasn't home.  Then after her sip of drink and sniff of cake she gets on her walking machine to exercise, while her fiance sits down to watch TV.  And that's it, that's my birthday!  Happy birthday to me!  Again I find myself fuming because I could have gone out and spent the night with genuine friends having a genuinely good time.  Instead I'm left alone at the dinning table sipping my black Russian and refusing to eat the cake.  No one touched the hors d'ouvres I'd made.  Cracking it, I leave the house and go for a really long walk around a dark school oval all the while rambling to myself how fucked this whole situation is.  I had to vent.  I had to let it out.  When I return an hour later she's still on the machine and I go to bed.

My lover phoned me in the middle of the night (time zone difference) to wish me happy birthday and I vent to him while they're in bed.

Some days afterward he arrives to stay with us and as I leave to pick him up from the airport (by now my car had arrived from interstate and I now had my own transport) M tells me not to bag her to him.  I just glare at her.  Ha!  What a hypocrite.  My poor lover.  I didn't just bag M, I went off on an insane ramble of how mental she was making me and how I couldn't wait for this fucking nightmare to be over.  Over the weeks everyone who knew M had stopped being friendly to me and I knew why, she was bagging me to them, telling them her cock and bull story about how she's all give and I'm all take.  My poor lover was hoping to be reunited in fits of passion only to find me too stressed and strung out and depressed to be even remotely any kind of good lover.  He was angry about this and wished I would calm down.  She seemed fine to him and he was sure I was exaggerating.

The week he was there before the wedding was somewhat bliss.  He took my mind off her and she doted on him, leaving me the hell alone.  He could do no wrong.  He took us all out for dinner and for days she insisted to me that she should pay him back, only to be crest fallen when I told her he's rich and doesn't need to be paid back.  M has always wanted a rich boyfriend.  Later on she told me I was lucky to have someone as good as him, implying I was so shitty it's a miracle I've found someone as good as him.  Then realising what she said, lied and added that he's also lucky to have me too.  I gave her a rye smile.  By now I knew her lying game.  How fake she was.  I saw right through her bullshit.

My lover and I went shopping to get the bride and groom presents for their wedding, sparing no expense.  If she claimed I was all take and no give I wanted to show her I could be just as giving.  We presented the gifts to them two days before the wedding.  The following day she came home with gifts for me to thank me for the gifts I'd given her and I realised then it didn't matter how giving I was, she was going to outdo me so she could insist I wasn't as giving as her (not giving in general).

One night she and I were sitting at the dining room table alone and she told me I was her only friend and she hoped we'd still be friends after this.  I cannot recall my response however I know I was thinking "Not likely".  The wedding was soon upon us.  This would soon be over. 

They day of the wedding all the men had slept over at the grooms house while the girls were at the brides.  The bride went to all the appointments before us, hair, makeup.  Each time we rocked up to a place the bride had been before us I was greeted with contempt and disdain.  By now I knew how it worked because she had suckered me in, in the beginning.  When she had complained and bagged everyone for being so lazy and not helping with the wedding I'd taken her at her word and didn't understand why they weren't helping out.  It hadn't taken me too long to see she wasn't telling the truth.  But these people she was speaking to didn't know me, they only knew what she said about me and what she said wasn't nice.  So they treated me like the awful greedy selfish person she'd made me out to be.  At the wedding and reception I kept walking in on her whispering to others about me.  Convincing anyone who'd listen that I was a bad person.

She left me and my lover at the wedding at the end of the night, not sparing us second thought.  Didn't say goodbye or let us know she was heading off.  She just left.  We had been packing up all the gifts into my car and she'd just left us there.  Two interstate people who had no idea where we were or how to get back to her house.  We had to stop and ask a taxi driver for directions.  At her house we found her getting her hair-do removed by the bridesmaid, the person she bagged the absolute most (except perhaps 2nd to me).  She was cold and distant and barely talking to us and I was so eager to get out of there.  We'd already made arrangements to be else where on her wedding night because she'd already said she hopes we're not staying.

It was finally over.  The wedding night had come and gone.  It had been an absolute nightmare.  I'd lost two dress sized from the stress of it and pretty much hated her guts by the end of it...

I was wrong though.  It wasn't over.

to be continued...

bridezilla - story part two

I wish I could say things got better from then on but they didn't.  M gets home to find me sitting at the dinning table sullen and depressed after reading her shitty letter.  Starts rambling on about how she's offended me with her letter, how sorry she is and how she didn't mean how I'm interpreting her letter.  Retracting her words and telling me what I wanted to hear.  That she's grateful for all my help and so happy to have me there.  I don't believe her but there's little I can do.

One night she is bagging the bridesmaid because she hasn't help a single bit with the wedding, rambling on about how the wedding trinkets, over 1000 of them, need to be made and as usual no one is offering a helping hand.  I suggest we phone the bridesmaid and others and let them know we'd like some help.  After all they can't offer help if they don't know what needs doing.  M is furious at my suggestion saying she shouldn't have to ask, they should simply offer.  When I insist on phoning people she tells me "Don't you dare".  The following evening she returned from work to find all the wedding trinkets done (I did them all myself).  Instead of being pleased she is fuming (just the way it was when I gotten the fresh coffee or brought groceries) because I did the trinkets myself (which let everybody else off the hook, according to her).  Even though she was never going to ask them for help anyway.  She had planned on her and I doing them by ourselves and complaining about how no one was helping, that way she got to play the victim.  Me doing them meant she couldn't play victim.  She stayed pissed off.

Her, me and the bridesmaid go shopping for her bridal shower.  I purchase everything because it's my duty to organise the event.  M is insisting she pay.  I stand my ground and pay knowing that secretly she is pleased I've done so.  Afterwards she insists on paying for the bridesmaid's and my shoes for the wedding.  We don't let her.  The shower comes and goes and we all have a fabulous time.

I cooked dinner and her mum and husband come over and tell me how delicious the meal is.  M is pissed off that they're complimenting my cooking.  Another night I cook and she tells me her fiance doesn't eat the type of food I've cooked (fish).  Another time I tell her I'm going to cook and at around 4:30pm I take a lie down because I have a serious headache and need a rest.  I wake an hour later to find her banging and clanging in the kitchen pissed off because I said I would cook but I haven't started yet.  All talk no action she says.  I tell her, her fiance doesn't get home for another hour and I was going to wait until closer to him returning because it doesn't take long and knew I'd have time for a quick lie down.  I try to push her out of the kitchen but she insists on cooking any way even though I've already got the food out for my dish and have to cook it regardless.  She cooks anyway, and so do I.  She remains pissed off about having to cook.  Playing the martyr, the victim.  Maintaining that I said I would cook but when it came time to cooking I was no where to be found, as she complains to him when he gets home.  Neither of them touch the dish I made.

The fiances friends are over for a visit and the groomsman tells us he can't afford to pay for the church so I pay for it instead.  The fiance's friends came over to visit often.  Each time M would be in my ear whispering "See how bad they are, see!"  In particular the bridesmaid got bagged a lot and M was forever getting pissed off with me because I refused to see the bridesmaid as the ugly monster she painted her out to be.  "Why are you always taking her side?  I know her better than you."
I kid you not, as one couple left they say to M, "We're going, now you can bag us".  I stifle a laugh.  Sure enough after they're gone that is exactly what M does to all the other friends.  By now everyone is well aware they're next when they leave.  Foolishly I'd been stupid enough to think that since I was doing so much for M I'd be left out of the bagging.  What a fool I was. 

Her mum comes over, she popped in often, and M is bagging the bridesmaid because she refuses to get her nails done for the wedding.  The mum hands M $300 and tells her it's for all of us to get our nails and hair done.  The following evening I tell M that I'll take her mum up on her offer to pay for my nails to get done, even though I said I'd pay for my own nails I spent my nail money on paying for the church.  M tells me she's already spend the $300.  In one day?  I ask her what she's spent it on and she doesn't have an answer.  I know she's lying and said I'll take the mum up on the offer anyway.  When we get our nails done it's at M's mum's expense.  The bridesmaid insists on not getting hers done no matter what and M spends the rest of her time bagging (to me) her for it.  I'm there thinking I won't get bagged because I've been a dutiful friend and gotten my nail done.

The bridesmaid and I go out together to purchase bits and pieces for the hens night.  That morning we'd all gone to the hair dresses to get practice hair-does done.  The bridesmaid and I are shopping with the hair-does and having a great time.  We really got along so well.  I ask the bridesmaid if she is staying over the night before the wedding so we can all get ready together in the morning.  She says she's still undecided.  Back at M's it takes me over 45 minutes to take the blasted hair-do out.  I had to soak my feet in cold water in the bath because my feet were killing me from walking around all day shopping for stuff for the hens night.  Plus I'd gone grocery shopping the previous day and walked the 30 minutes there and back home with four heavy shopping bags on a hot day.  I had serious blisters on my feet.  When M gets home I'm sitting at the table with wild curly hair and sore feet and she cracks it when she sees my hair looking all wild and wooly.  I can only guess that she was jealous because it looked good??  She also finds a plate and knife in the sink left over from my lunch and angrily washes it asking what I'd done all day.  I tell her I was out all day shopping around for hens night things.

She asked me if the bridesmaid is staying over the night before the wedding and I repeat that she's still undecided.  Her fiance gets home and she demands he ring the bridesmaid and tell her she has to sleep over the night before the wedding and hot the bridesmaid told me she isn't staying over (not true).  I tell him that's not what she said at all.  Don't demand, just ask her if she will.  He doesn't.  He gets on the phone and angrily tells the bridesmaid I told them she's not staying over.  I knew full well she'd be pissed off thinking I'd told them something that she hadn't said.

That night the fiance comes up and asks me what's going on between M and me.  I'm confused.  He tells me she's been in her bedroom crying for hours because she's giving 110% while I'm just taking, I'm taking her hospitality for granted, not contributing to the bills or to the wedding while costing her a fortune, making her pay for everything, not keeping my room clean or helping out around the house, he mentions my knife and plate in the sink, leaving all the work to her, how I said I'd pay for my own nails yet when it came time to pay the money was nowhere to be seen etc etc etc on and on and on.  I sit and listen to the long list of wrongs I'd done while fuming inside wanting to barge into the bedroom and give M what for.  "Are you joking!" I say when he's done, then list all of the things I've been doing, including laundry, washing the bathroom and toilet and all the rest of it.  I tell him I resent that she is implying I'm all take and no give because I have been doing SO much for her.  In the end he shrugs his shoulders, tells me to pick up my act then goes to bed.

to be continued...

bridezilla - story part one

When your friend asks you to be her matron of honour you feel pretty pleased to be asked.

She (let's refer to her as M) lived interstate so I had to stay with her for a month until the wedding was over.  I packed up my stuff and flew over.  The first night I was there I was so happy to be sharing this occasion with her and meeting her fiance.  He was repairing the kitchen cupboard and she was telling him to leave it, she'd get her father to do it.  The fiance saying he was more than capable and fixing it anyway.  I remember sitting there wondering how long the peace would last.

It only took a week for the cracks to show.  My friend hadn't said a positive thing for the first week I was there, she didn't ask about me or others and only ever talked about herself.  She complained about ill health, her annoying work, how stressed she was, how no one was helping or doing anything with the wedding and leaving all the work to her.  Regular bridal stresses.  She also bagged and back stabbed everyone she knew.  Her fiance's family, his sisters, her brothers and sister in laws, her fiances friends (she didn't bag her own friends because she didn't have any).  I wondered how long she would go on like this, fearing that it was who she was and not just related to the stress of the wedding.

My first morning there her and fiance had left for work.  Looking for a morning coffee I found her coffee jar so old it was fury and coffee set like concrete.  I went up the street and purchased a fresh jar.  I also did the morning dishes and cleaned the baking dish she'd cooked our dinner in the previous night.  Cleaned it to the point of looking brand new.  Why am I mentioning these trivial matters?  Because she wasn't happy with me doing these things.  When she returned from work and saw the new coffee and spotlessly clean dish she told me I was to make myself and home and not to do anything.  If I needed anything like fresh coffee I should ask her and she'll bring some home for me.  My response was to say I don't mind, it was only a couple of dollars. 

After one week I took a break from helping with the wedding to go down south and stay with my bestie while I got my teeth cleaned and got a facial for the wedding.  I also visited my dad; I hadn't seen him in years.  9/11 happened this week and I was so thankful to be with my bestie at the time so we could comfort each other. I knew M would be no comfort to me.  In fact she never even mentioned 9/11.  Too absorbed in herself.  M called me while I was at my bestie's to ask me if she was the reason I'd gone away, also saying she hoped I hadn't said bad things about her to my dad that would make him not show up to her wedding.  I noted to myself it was interesting that she thought I was bagging her to my dad, the way she bagged others.  Of course I'd brought her up with my bestie however I'd been nice about her, saying that in spite of her negativity she was a nice person.  Later on my bestie told me I always have the ability to see the good in people even when they don't deserve it.

Before leaving to spend the week with my bestie I'd spoken to M about her negative talk.  Telling her she had such a blessed life, so much to be thankful for and she should concentrate on that.  As her matron of honour it was my job to make sure she made it through the wedding, having a great and fun experience.  She just about broke down saying "I won't say anything at all then" meaning if she couldn't be negative around me she may as well not talk since I obviously don't like hearing it.  Playing the hard done by victim.  I left her a really warm letter before heading off saying how honoured I was to be part of her wedding and how I would do my best to make it a great experience for her and help in anyway possible.  When I got back after a week with my bestie I found a long letter on the bed waiting for me saying

... she, M, has done so much for me and all I have done is take her for granted and not appreciated her and her efforts.  She's opened her doors to me and it's not easy having me stay there especially since I wasn't helping around the house.  She told me to make myself at home but that didn't mean not keeping my room tidy.  It's been stressful having me stay however she's willing to deal with it and get through this wedding, the least I could do is be gracious and give instead of take...

From the moment I arrived I had been doing the dishes daily, wiping down the kitchen, dinning table, straightening everything up, so the house would be perfect when she gets home.  Every day!  And sometimes I made dinner so it would be ready when she and her fiance walked in the door.  Regardless of her claiming I was being untidy, especially when it came to the room I was staying in, I knew I was being very neat.  For starters I was living out of a suitcase which was stressful enough.  All my clothes were kept neatly folded in my suitcase, never left about the room.  I made the bed every morning and every morning she came in and remade the bed because I hadn't done a  good enough job according to her.  She kept taking my teddies off the bed and leaving them on the floor and removed the plastic bag I was using as my private bin.  I had no privacy and her statement to make myself at home was total bollocks.

I had been going shopping several times during the week to replace food items I was eating and gave her money for bills, even though she insisted I not pay board or buy food because I was a guest in her house. 

When I read the letter I wanted to leave right there and then but I had no where to go.  I phoned my brother and asked him for advice, reading the letter to him.  If I stayed at my bestie's way down south I would have to travel hours by public transport to help with the wedding and I would hardly be there for M, which was her biggest complaint about everyone else.  I didn't know what to do and felt trapped.  I had to stay at M's and help out because I was matron of honour.  A part of me wanted to quit and tell her to shove it up her arse... and be gone when she came home but that would be letting her down.

So I stayed.

To be continued...

burger king fat

she hasn't seen her lover for while.

on the day he returns she organizes lunch.  burgers.  they eat their burgers and afterwards he talks about how guilty he feels.  gluttony.  the other house mate didn't want his burger so she decides she'll have it for dinner.

her lover asks her, "should you be eating that?"   implying calories and fat in take.  hearing this from him is interpreted as "you're so fat, don't even think about it."  she has seen fat people eating ice cream and chips and thinking "no!  don't do it!  it's a trap".  she knows the difference between her and what fat is.  for the moment she stews about it.  mulls it over.

shopping later on, walking through the carpark towards the mall, she tells him how she didn't like is comment about what she eats.  she has no real desire to alter her weight.  he says, "oh" and his meaning is hard to interpret.

as they walk through the mall she tells him to look around.  45% of the population is overweight or obese.  "i'm a size 10" she tells him, " i'm not fat."  pointing around her she tells him she's is the skinniest one there... except for that young business girl walking past them.  heading towards them is an aptly placed obese woman.  her point is made.

yet still lost on him.

the knife story

He'd taken me to some out of town tourist park during off season.  His families caravan sat unattended along with the others.  I had a feeling why he'd taken me there, that is: what he wanted from me.  On this day I wasn't in the mood.  I'd been at the beach all the previous day and was pink down the back of my body.  My skin hurt, was hot and dry and stinging just to exist.  Sex with him was out of the question.  Parking his divvy fan along side the caravan, we get out and he shows us around the caravan.  I found it too small, claustrophobic.  Not a place I wanted to have sex with him in.  Can't recall him actually asking me or making any moves though I know it happened since I knocked him back.  Inside his Divvy van later he grabs a knife from somewhere and holds it to my neck telling me, "I can really hurt a person if I don't get what I want".  First off I was shocked and scared when I saw the knife.  Wasn't sure what type of person he was since we'd only been dating for a couple of months.  Looking at the knife to see what type and what size it was- it was small non descript knife, then at this face to see how serious he was, a part of me didn't care.  Not too long ago my long term boyfriend had dumped me and I'd been heart broken ever since.  That kind of can't eat, can't talk, can't smile emptiness that takes ages to go away.  Part of me was thinking just do it.  Stab me.  I'm not going to have sex with you anyway.  Another part of me got really angry over him trying to force me into sex with him.  Even if I did have sex with him under that condition I'd have never been ok with it.  It would have been the last time I saw him and I'd have told somebody.  I ended up grabbing the knife off him and shoving it back at him and saying, "So can I".  Not really sure what possessed me or gave me the courage aside from anger and total disregard for life.  He realised he ain't getting any, started the car and took me home in a really bad mood.

he’s blown it

16 ways i blew my marriage. makes me think of my lover.  

he’s away a lot and mine when he’s back.  i like this arrangement because i get my space and that’s crucial.  it is not blown because of  that.  

i’m not happy.  it’s  mentally blown.  he might never have me fully.  i have my reasons for staying.  not one to like giving in, calling quits.  prefer the old been together 70 years type story.  i’m content at this point in my life.  cool job, house, not struggling for food, mine is not an overly hard life.  is stressful though.  

the article says about finding faults and name calling.  yeah that’s my world.  it’s really shaped the whole thing into a bizarre clash of the titans whenever he’s around.  i do sweet f all when he’s around because he’s taken it upon himself to tell me the many ‘better’ ways things can be done.  gets super shitty if i don’t abide by his recommendations.  get labelled all sorts of shit too on account of how poorly he thinks i do stuff.  it’s almost laughable really.  

he never wins our game of clash of the titans.  why keep going.  i ain’t ever going to back down and buy that shit.  i’m 95% content with my world.  maybe it’s too much to ask for the other 5%.  there again am i really?  

when i read the article i felt really shitty about his fault finding and the kind of damage it does.  not to my soul.  he’s not crushing me or making me believe his shit.  it just keeps me distant.  secretive.  i’ll never truly let him into my world.  and that’s where he’s blown it because it’s bloody awesome in my world.  i enjoy being me.  he has no idea he's blown it.  totally unaware.

then again how much does he let me into his world?  perhaps we've picked each other because we'll always be slightly outside of each other and that keeps us safe.  yet we're still more than we ever let anyone else in.

kissing is a sign

If the kiss doesn't fall into place he's not the one.  The relationship is doomed.  One guy kissed like wood pecker.  Peck peck peck.  I hated it.  I hated him.  He ran the relationship that way.  Come close pull back, come close pull back.  Some times completely withdraw for hours then be all possessive like.  Yuk.  One guy came at me like the mouth of Luna Park.

kissing

All dark cave and tongue.  Nice guy but a hard kiss to adjust to.  Made my mouth ache.  One guy was all tonsil hockey just about choking me.  Tongue all the way in.  Gag.  An in the relationship all they way in kinda guy.  One guy liked to lick my face.  Me with my germ phobia.  I liked him.  Spunky as he was.  Time to move on.  A couple fell into place completely.  Such a *sigh* feeling.  Refreshing.  Not a complicated kiss.  Meshing like we'd done this before.  Fully in sync with each other.  Funny enough, loved the guys madly but the relationships were major complicated.  Too much passion.  Too much hostility.  They were all over me one minute then pretending they didn't give a shit the next.  And I fell hook line an sinker.  Did my bloody head in.  They're the one's I think of fondly from time to time.  The one's I can't forget.  You mark my word a kiss tells you everything.

driving without a license

When I was 17 on my L plates I finished work waiting for a friend to finish.  My friend told me to wait in his car, his shift ended if half an hour.  Gives me the keys and I wait in his car.  Waiting waiting.  I get bored and decide I'll take the car for a spin around the block, take a couple of back streets.  Off I go driving around doing a fine job.  I'd been driving since I was 14.  My dad taught me because he believed it was important for me to know.  In case something ever happened to him and I needed to take him to the hospital.  I stop at a T intersection putting my indicator on to turn left, look behind me and see I have a police car on my tail.  Kinda shit bricks because I'm so little they're bound to know I'm not old enough to drive.  I've no P plates on my car to say I'm old enough to drive while still looking young.  I keep driving and they tail me for a couple 100 meters but in the end they turn off in a different direction.  I hightail it back to my work car park only to find the car park my friends car was parked in is now taken.  He'll know I took his car for a drive now that his car is moved.  Friend comes out sees the car is moved, asks me if I drove his car, I confess and offer him petrol money.  He declines and is fine with me driving his car.  Tells me a story about another friend who drove his car once and crashed it on her first drive.  Least I returned his car in one piece.

growing up without a mum

Growing up without a mum I didn't know all those girly things about makeup and tampons.

Didn't know how to cook or boil an egg.

Was never especially affectionate or caring like other girls.

Lived with my dad and was raised having in-depth philosophical discussions and being trained how to defend myself.

Never knew how to bake a cake.

Did know the main pressure points on the human body, where and how to hit a man that could kill or mame him, how to turn every thing and anything into a weapon, basics of ninjutsu and boxing, how to shoot, how to hunt and skin animals, to always be aware of my surroundings.

My dad taught me how to survive an attack.

Never was attacked thankfully, yet it's good stuff to be taught and I've never forgotten.

I know I'm not like other girls.

I've talked to them about the things I know and they look at me funny.

Maybe, hopefully, I'll never need this stuff.  Helps me feel safer though and I like how dad was looking out for me.

virgin and the theif

7am Sunday morning laying down on a bench seat at a train station waiting for the next train.  Train's not due until 9am so I'm trying to doze off because I'm bored.  A shadow falls across me and I hear someone approach.  Looking up I'm surprised to see my cousin standing in front of me.  He is as surprised to see me and asks me when the next train is.  When I tell him it's hours away my cousin confesses the police are on his tail.  He stole a bike and they want to question him about the theft.  Don't tell them you saw me, he asks of me, then he nicks off.  Laying back down on the bench it's not long before the police arrive asking me if I've seen a boy passing by.  I point off in the opposite direction telling them he ran off that way.  They thank me and go on their way.  When I lay back down I think what are the odds that the perp would bump into someone he knows, who seems like a random stranger to the police, at a random train station, who sends them on a bum steer.  They'll catch up to my cousin one day.  I was also thinking about the odds of bumping into my cousin, whom I hadn't seen in years, the morning after I'd lost my virginity.  I'd bumped into his older brother the night before.  I'd met up with my boyfriend and his mates at the train station.  The first time I'd been to that train station and didn't know where I was going.  We all went back to his mates place and later up the street so the boys could get something to eat.  There was my older cousin out the front of the shop excited to see me, and me him.  Hadn't seen each other is years.  He was still as handsome as ever.  He asked me what I was doing there, who I was with, was he treating me good, let him know if ever I needed him to have a word in my boyfriend's ear.  Be good to my cuz or else.  I told my cousin, nah he's good, treating me well.  The mate of my boyfriend had to sneak me in to his house after his mum went out for the night.  I had to go to bed before the mum got home.  I didn't think of it at the time and when my boyfriend woke me up really early, telling me I had to sneak out before the mum woke and got up, I wasn't pleased.  Hate waking early.  And there I was at the train station waiting for the next train to take me home.

eyes

celibacy

Celibacy.  People argue should we be celibate?  Is it normal or going against our biological nature?  I'm in two minds.  It's not normal.  People need sex.  Not all people, some don't, most do.  Depriving people of sex or putting them in jobs where they're not allowed to have sex for the rest of their life isn't right.  Isn't good.  On the flip side I like the idea of being able to control my baser needs.  Like the idea of challenging ourselves this way.  Do we rule our baser needs or do they rule us?  I was celibate for a while just to prove to myself I could do it.  It was good and bad.  My levels of concentration were really good.  No man distractions.  The job got done.  On the flip side my level of erotic dreams went up - they always do when I haven't had some in a while.  Like it was my bodies way of saying 'you need this'.  I could manage going without and was coping just fine.  The erotic dreams came in batches.  I'd have days of dreaming in a row then nothing for a while.  Even felt like I was climaxing in my dreams and in real life as I woke which is a nice satisfactory feeling.  Still, think it's our minds way of saying something is missing.  Biologically you're meant to have this and you're missing out, your body needs  this.

backstabbing liars

Bumped into an old school friend.  Hadn't seen her since high school.  We were 21.  She comes over to my house unannounced when I've got a bunch of girl friends over.  She stays for a while bagging my friends to me when ever they left the room.  As she's leaving she tells me that she only became my friend in high school because she felt sorry for me because I had no friends. 
That's not the truth.  The truth is I had lots of friends until she went around telling lies about me, telling people I'd said things about them when I hadn't.  People got pissed off with me for saying these things until they realised the only one claiming I'd said stuff was her.  Once they realised she was a two faced liar they unfriended her leaving her totally friendless and the only person who would have anything to do with her after that was me.  Too gullible for my own good.  Truth is I felt sorry for her.  I knew nobody liked her.  Everyone kept telling me they don't understand what I see in her, why I stay friends with her, why I don't just ditch the lying two faced bitch.
So there she is at a my house years later after me being her only friend all throughout high school and she's telling me she feels sorry for me.  I know she said this remark because I had friends over and it rubber her insecurities the wrong way so she had to try and win back some semblance of coolness that she never had.  I laughed, gestured to the friends I had in my house and said to her, "Times have changed.  Now I've got lots of friends," knowing full well she never had groups of girls over like that.  She left looking all dejected and friendless.

It's not a nice thing to do.  Reject her like that and make her feel like a friendless loser.  She can't help hating herself and wanting to put others down so she can feel good about herself for a while.  It's just that finding out years later she was still two faced, still liked to put others down to make herself feel good, not ever having a light bulb moment and seeing that shit doesn't work.  Just made me want to tell it like it is.  That was the last time we ever saw each other and it was years over due.

why cheaters cheat

I know why cheaters cheat.  There are various reasons and various types of cheaters.  Some people are afraid of commitment don't want to be tied down to one person.  Some people want the attention and like the idea of testing if they've still got what it takes to attract others.  Some people like the thrill and the adventure.

They're not the cheaters I'm talking about.

I mean the faithful loyal lovers who would other wise never stray.  I know what can make them stray.

Imagine you're in a relationship. 10, 20, 30 years.  The partner is practically perfect in every way.  Good looking, well groomed, good manners, good teeth.  Healthy, fit.  Holds a job and isn't afraid of hard work to provide for the family.  Good hands on parent.  Generous, giving, loves to take you out to dinner.  Personable, friendly, easy going.  Communicates well.  What ever other attributes you can think of.  Only one thing is missing.

They're cold, distant.  Stingy with their emotions, feelings and affection.  They show love and affection towards the children but not to you.  Their lover, their partner.  Years of talking about it and trying to make a difference have no effect.  You've given them years of love and affection.  Compliments.  Tried to show then what it looks like to be open and affectionate.  What it feels like to receive it.  You've also withheld your affection trying to also show them how it feels not to have it.  And still nothing, nadda, zip.  They cannot be (or won't be) any other way no matter what you do or say.

Enough to drive you mad .. or into the arms of someone else who will show you love and affection.  They not shit enough to leave.  They're a good person underneath all that coldness.  It's just that you need more.  You know you deserve to be cherished, admired, treated like you're the most beautiful person in the world.

It's like daddy's girls who have cold distant dads.  They'll happily give their love away to the first boy who whispers sweet nothings in their ear.  This is the same.  You'll happy run towards the first person who whispers those sweet words in your ear because you miss it, you want it, and you're not getting it.  Your partner will never understand if they ever found out.  No light bulb moment coming their way.  So you feel you're left with no other choice.

Spend a life time with a person who leaves you feeling less than .. or have your cake and eat it by getting love and attention from someone who knows that cold and distant isn't want has lovers falling at your feet.

"Tell me I'm beautiful and I am yours."

don juan lover

dated a guy who was really into pleasing the woman.  hunting down the things that rocked her, appealed to her.  he knew if he couldn't get a woman excited he wasn't doing it right.  he prided himself on being an impressive lover and having a satisfied woman.  he had his moments, not often, where he got selfish or tired and opted for quickies.  quickies bother me.  coz it's all about the guy getting the quickie when he's in the mood and too bad if she wanted to climax as well.  never the other way around.  what about her getting some when he's not in the mood but she is?  back to the story.  one time he gets on and does his thing all hurried and not taking time to excite me and i kid you not at the end he asked me "was it good for you?"  didn't think anybody really asked that.  being direct as i am i told him it wasn't good for me.  not even nearly.  was he serious?  he was surprised and offended by my response and it lead to a big argument.  i tell him i'm in it for the climax too.  it's not just about him and his climax.  at no point during his advances did he ask me if i did or didn't want to get off as well.  there was no point where a quickie was discussed and determined as being what we both wanted.  he says something about thinking i would be pleased just to have him in me.  probably not meant the way it sounded - like he was a rock god or something.  i flipped out, gave him a big piece of my mind, saying at no time did i agree to just please him.  at no point was it discussed that i didn't also want to be pleased.  he just assumed i would be ok being used as a vesicle to store his cargo (my exact words).  that made him angry and so we both shouted back and forth.  no resolution was reached then and we didn't talk to each other for two days.  me plotting how i would make him understand my point of view, trying to figure out how and what i would say.  then i come up with an idea.  i take him to the bedroom, touch him, kiss him, get him excited.  undress him.  undress myself.  throw him on the bed all barred up.  jump on and work him for a few minutes.  without even pretending to climax i hop off him and ask him "was it good for you?"  he says "what?" realizing it isn't going to go the way he expected (much how i felt after our last encounter).  he tells me he's not done.  i tell him i am and add, "but it was a pleasure having you in me" and i get dressed and leave him alone, all barred up and no where to go.

Later he tells me I made my point well.

table top dancing

I once danced on a dinning table in hot pants and a t-shirt to an entire Deee Lite album.

Those were the days ..

r.i.p beast

Can't take it with you when you go.  So why care about it and hold it in high esteem?  It doesn't matter.  Not important in the scheme of things. It's an object.

I know that.  Logically I get it and I still miss my beloved.  When I see similar cars or cars that are the same colour I feel nostalgic and sad that the car is gone.  Almost brings a tear to the eye.  Yes I am grateful the friends who were in the car are ok.  Yes I am grateful my injuries healed.  It's just a car.  Lives are more important.

Still remember the policeman who arrived on the scene (he was cute) asking me if I drove the little dinky silver car.  The look on his face when I told him I drive the beafy V8 [that crashed into the car in front, that had crashed into the car in front and so on].  He looked a tad impressed.  I felt pride and also greif.  My car was crumpled up.

Now I drive another V8 which people tell me is so much better.  Performance wise, age wise, looks wise.  Yeah, I supose so - there's pride there.  And I still miss my beast, my beafy V8, the shark I use to call it.  Cruising, smooth, sleak, circling it's prey.  It was unique.  As far as I could research, only around 250 ever made.  Now down to 249.  A right-off.  Bye Bye car.

And I still miss my V8.

forever young

I wish I was forever locked in my fantasy.  It's fun here.  Me myself and i.  Multiple persons.  We have a great old time.

(Multiple personalities is people lost in their imaginations)

Got my dancing and singing and romance.  I'm hip and I'm grovin'  Got my stories and ideals and I'm loving life.  If only I could stay here.  Real life is such a shit.

People.  Work.  Life.  Draws me out and I don't like it.
Alas it has to happen.

Some of us are born preferring our imagination to real life.  Still I contribute to the world.  I ain't to daydreaming bludger livin' off the dole not earning my keep.

None-the-less like being lost in my world of stories and fantasies and all that.

Give me bush walking and imagining any day.

Give me dancing my guts out pretending I'm famous - or dancing for you - any day.

Plus I write and love it.  Shit load of stories to prove it.

Then life draws me out.  Reality. 

Go away .. I was happy here

date night

Speak to any relationship counselor and they'll suggest a date night for stagnant relationships were the couples have been together for a while and take each other for granted.  They got comfortable and are content to sit around ignoring each other.

He went to a counselor and got told he should have date nights with me.  Wish I'd have been there because I'd have laughed at the counselor and said what the hell point would that be?

When I go on a date with him I get one of of two things. 1. Ocotoman. 2. Distance.

Last night's date he was cold.  Walking towards him all dressed up he says nothing.  No telling me I look nice.  Nothing.  The most I get is your bum feels good in that skirt.  It's better than nothing though I want more.  We drive to the movies and he's saying and doing nothing date-ish.  May as well be going shopping for all he's giving.  No holding my hand, stealing looks at me, telling me I look nice.  We get our pop corn and go into the theater and he's sitting next to me like a statue, back straight, facing front, hands to himself.  No holding my hand, leaning towards me, putting an arm around me.  Nothing.  The most I get is him leaning over to tell me that actor is such n such from that other movie or show.  I eventually lean over to him and hold onto his arm, or put my hand on his thigh.  After some time he returns the gesture and only keeps his hand there for a little while.  It's back to playing statues.  I'm looking over at him every now and then thinking how good looking he is, wishing he'd do the same.  The movie is over and we leave talking about how good the movie was.  The Dark Knight Rises.  Wicked movie.  Loved it.  So bloody cool with a great ending and stacks of cameo appearances.  Can't wait for the next one.  In the car he's still saying and doing nothing date-ish though he does hold my hand.  By now my hand is limp.  I've lost interest.  I'm feeling depressed.  I'm feeling unattractive.  I'm feeling uninteresting.  It's all about expectations.  His expectation is date night is about going out together and doing something enjoyable.  My idea of date night is we flirt and chat and he builds me up and makes me feel 6 feet tall.  My idea is we do some extra stuff we don't normally do that removes the taking for granted comfortable content BORING stagnant feeling.  We could have sat on the sofa at home and had the same kind of dumb pathetic ignore me all night type of night.  Which is what we have all the time anyway.

The next day he's pissed off with me for confessing my feelings about the date and lack of flirting which came about because he paid me a compliment when I was half undressed saying I look good.  I replied "Oh now you compliment me."  Must have been wearing too much at the movies since the only time I'm complimentable is when I'm half naked.

And that's our date night.  Oh goodie..... can't wait until the next one.

a sermon on sinners

i am the lord thy god
thou shalt have no other gods
no graven images or likenesses
not take the lord's name in vain
remember the sabbath day
honour thy father and thy mother
thou shalt not kill
thou shalt not commit adultery
thou shalt not steal
thou shalt not bear false witness
thou shalt not covet

the group of people who hung negros up in trees then went to church on sunday and shouted “halleluiah i believe in jesus christ the son of our holy father amen!”
the group of people who stoned a girl to death.  the lady who back stabs and gossips and tells
untruths about people.  the man who coverts another man’s wife and thinks he’s not cheating because she is a picture in a magazine or some chick in a video. the paedophile who claims to be ‘born that way’ and can’t help his impulses, or those sick men who go to thai child brothels, or invest money into an asian prostitute for as long as the money lasts.  the mother who bashes her children or dates some asshole that will do it for her while she does nothing.

they kid themselves that they’re not sinners, or they've repented for their sins so god will forgive them.  0r maybe they don’t believe in god and couldn't give a rat’s ass about what they do because there is no heaven or hell and no punishment that will make them stop.

we like to sit back in our cosy houses pointing the finger at the ‘bad sinners’ while in truth we are all
sinners.  get real and admit you’ve done at least one of those things.  for the most part we do nothing about the sinners which is a sin in itself or we believe we are not sinning - because we think the above is ok. we fight for nothing and go with the flow.  we do nothing but pray to our gods that it won’t happen or tell ourselves we’re going to heaven where the sinners won’t be and life will be perfect (while all the sinners suffer in hell). or maybe you go nowhere after death the all the crap is gone.

ridiculous foolishness and not good enough.  we as a collective people need to get up off our fat asses and be proactive in dealing with sin starting with ourselves.  even if you don’t believe in the 10 commandments because it’s for a religion that is not yours; not killing, not committing adultery, not stealing, not bearing false witness and not coveting makes sense.

random phone call

The guy on the phone said he was looking for someone else. He asked for such & such and I told him he's got the wrong number. He asked me which number he'd rang. I asked him what number he was after. He read out my number.
I knew the owners of the house. They had lived there for a long time and before them an old man. No one by the name of the person this guy was after had ever lived there.
He begins chatting with me saying he may as well make the most of a wrong number.
He phoned again a couple more times to chat talking about Steven King books and asking me about my interests. There was no personal discussion aside from discussing single status and what we look like. The guy was truthful enough saying he had a girth broader than his shoulders and he was older than me.
Then one day he suggests we meet, I agree, he picks a date and time. I bring a friend. As soon as I saw him I knew he was not my type. He was older and broader than I expected, short and had a particular unattractiveness to him. My friend and I sat with him and had a drink chatting. It came easy enough since we'd spoken so much over the phone.
It's time to go so he walks us to my car. As we get to my door he reaches in to give me a proper kiss. I turn my face so he'll kiss my cheek. He asks if we'll see each other again and I'm very direct and tell him no.

Thinking about it years later. How did he get my number? What if the call wasn't as random as he claimed? Strange things happened in that house. Middle of the night phone calls often. Rubbish going missing. Hearing someone walking around outside the house at night time.

I was so naive innocent and trusting back then.

train story .. God vs mums

On the train there was a man from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints telling the guy next to him how God is better than mum's. He told the man God teaches  us tolerance and is non-judgmental. The man sniffed vigorously and continuously the entire time.


Mum's teach us manners. God doesn't.

ants

ant

ever thought when we're gone we're gone forgotten no-one remembers our existence.

just another squashed ant

later bloomer or sinner

At 19 I was playing truth dare with two guys and my girl friend. One guy asks me if I've ever masturbated. No I hadn't. He says 75% of girls have the rest are lying. I tell him I honestly haven't.  He says he doesn't believe me. I wondered if 75% of girls really do?
At 23 I was dating this fitness guy J. He jogged and worked out and had a seriously descent body and a photo portfolio of himself. A cool easy going kind of guy. I don't recall him getting angry often and when he did it was nothing much.
Hot stuff and sexually frustrating in bed (seems to be the type I go for). He watched too much porn mags and all the rest. His sexual style was the same as porn movies. Change positions every few minutes. Just as I was getting into a position and it was feeling good he moved me into a different position. He took ages to climax and I never climaxed. The change of positions was too much and I couldn't focus.
Months into seeing him ... well let's just say if I had balls they'd be blue. I talked to him about it and nothing changed. I was having dreams of sex with other men and climaxing. Once I climaxed in my sleep and woke myself up. He comes over that night and I tell him I climaxed that morning. He's not miffed about somebody else making me climax in fact he doesn't even ask me about who did it though he assumed someone else had. Later in the bedroom he makes me climax. It was the ONLY time he did.
Some time later he's staying over and we're lying in bed together after having sex and him climaxing. I'm feeling so frustrated I'm going to pop so I decide in the moment I'm gonna do it.  When I think he's dozing off but not quiet asleep and I start touching myself.  Wondering if I'll really go to hell?  Wondering if God will strike me down with lightening. Trying to hide it, making small movements, trying to be quiet.  I finish myself off and feel that instant relief and gratification.  That was the first time I touched myself.
By other standards I probably started late, for others I shouldn't have started at all. It took me a long time to get that Christian voice and upbringing out of my head. It took me a long time to feel like I wasn't doing anything wrong or bad.

running through the forest

  Just before waking the dream became vivid.  Trees rushing past, branches whipping my face and body.  Running through a forest chasing a man with long hair in a loin cloth.  Though I could not see his face I knew it was Cote – the way you instinctively know in dreams.  He jumped with ease over fallen logs, while my running was more laboured and awkward.  Still I was gaining on him.  I could see his back muscles rippling as I got closer and I could hear his breath as though he was breathing in my ears.  The sound of him overriding my own strained breathing.  He did not sound strained.  His breathing was uniform and controlled.  It had a sexiness to it as though he sounded this way when he made love.  Reaching out my right arm to grab him, I turned him to me.  It was my partner standing before me huffing and puffing.  He looked displeased, frown on his face as if annoyed I had been chasing him, or caught him.  Moments ago he had long hair half way down his back.  Now it was shorter as per his normal style.  He wore demon jeans and was shirtless.  His strong handsome body gleaming from sweat.  Instinctively I wanted to reach out and touch him, his chest, shoulders, arms.  As I reached out to hug him thankful for a familiar face amongst this strange world I found myself in, he ducked off behind a tree quick as a flash.  Moving like Cote.  When I rounded the tree he was nowhere to be seen.  Pivoting on the spot the world spun before me leaving me with a sense of vertigo.  Where had he gone?  I wanted him to come back.  I wanted him with me.  I woke just after picturing him driving off in the distance in a black jeep – in my mind’s eye as it is with dreams.  Somehow you see and know things your dream doesn’t shown you.  The dreaming changing just like that.

arrogance ignorance

We know more.  We've lived longer.  We've researched more.  You know nothing.  We we don't put up with ignorance.  We'll disrespect you while we're at it.  We're just speaking our mind.  If you can't hack it tough.  We ain't changing for no body.

Culling the weak.

Bullshit bullshit bullshit.

Elders affect and influence the newbies and have the power to create path.  As a newbie if you hear that type of attitude.  An arrogance so deep it's disturbing.  You ain't telling yourself I want to be that when I grow up.  If knowing so much more means we get to put others down for not knowing as much under the guise that this is acceptable because we're just telling you how it is. No thanks.  As a newbie  that's not something we aspire to.  A path we're eager to pursue.  Can't wait til I know so much I can do the same.

Other elders will stand up for the disrespectful elders claiming they just don't want to put up with rubbish.  If you're wrong according to them they'll say so.  There is no teaching.

What? You can't say that without putting a person down?  You can't own your disrespect?  More bullshit.

Rudeness is rudeness and not something newbies aspire to.  No matter which way you spin it.

reoccurring dreams

wings

Some Native Americans believe reoccurring dreams are important messages trying to tell us something.

Probably doesn't take a genius to figure out what my reoccurring childhood dream meant considering my unhappy upbringing.
I used to dream this when I was around 8 to 10 years old. I'm sent to the milk bar to get milk. It's night time. The streets on the way to the milk bar are familiar in my dream but no place I've ever seen before in real life. The street lights are on and many house lights are on with people up watching TV or something.

Looking like any other ordinary streets only it's not the way to any milk bar I ever went to. The milk bar is reminiscent of the milk bar from when I was a little girl and got stung by a bee for the first, and only time in my life.

I watch myself walk into the bar. When I come out empty handed I see that all the houses and streets have changed. Since I used them as visuals to know my way I can't find my way home. Panic races through me as I wonder how I will get home.

Not only that, but somehow I know that witches are out there in the dark, and are going to get me if I don't get back home where I'm safe. Scared, I start heading down one street looking for a familiar house. I turn down another street looking for another familiar house. I can hear the witches cackle, but I never see them.

In the end I run into one of the houses thinking I'll be safe, the people inside will let me in and the witches will think it's my real house and leave me alone.

sweet dreams

Beyonce's Sweet Dreams reminds me of a guy I've been dreaming about for years.

He first appeared to me when I was 16.  I was actually dreaming about a movie star I idolised and he popped into my dream.  I was saying goodbye to him as I left with the movie star, when I suddenly felt sad and heart broken to be leaving him.  When I woke I had this strange sensation that I was in love with him.  But who was He?  Where did he come from?

He has come to me in my dreams ever since.  Over the years I have come to know all about him. I know what he looks like and draw him.  Dark medium length wavy hair, square jaw, deep blue almond shaped eyes, a smile that curls up at the sides of his mouth.

I date guys who resemble him.  The same hair, the same body, height, the same smile.  I've never found someone with the same eyes as him.  None of the guys I date are him.  They don't feel the way about me as he does.  Always looking for him in real life.  I think of him when I make love.  I dream of him when I'm sad and lonely.  I have heard him calling to me as I wake and once heard his voice in my ear.

Who is he?  What is he?  Is he my guardian angle?  His he a man who has lived but since passed?  Was he a lover from a previous life?  Is he my soulmate and we've gotten separated?  Why does he continue to come to me even though we'll never be together.  For I am certain I'll never meet him (in this life time).  I have searched and searched and never found him.

Maybe once I too have passed we'll be together? 

Until then we'll be together only in my dreams.

parent child relationship. there's always something wrong

can't do anything right

how blokes speak to mates vs speaking to girlfriend

how blokes speak to mates

blokes greeting children vs greeting girlfriend

blokes greeting gf

blokes talking with mates vs talking with girlfriends

how blokes talk with gf

sexually frustrated .2

don't know what it is about sex.  i can't tell if it's him or me? something all lovers experience?  or am i the odd one out?

 ... he rarely gets me excited or turns me on and rarely get's me wet.  to look at him, he's hot.  the intimacy of being with him, seeing him, feeling him, is nice.  i like sleeping with him for that.  yet, i'm the one who has to touch myself in order to get turned on.  when he touches me he doesn't do it right.  he misses the spot, rubs too hard, too soft, too fast, too soon.  i direct him it makes no difference.  he hasn't learned what my erogenous zones are and no wonder since he rarely touches me any where else aside from the triple grab boobs bum groin.  he does the same moves every time even though he knows they do nothing for me.

he tells me I blow him away.  i'm amazing.  outstanding.  a sex goddess.  he on the other hand blows my mind rarely.

i read that women should take control of their own orgasm instead of relying on the man.  i'm not sure if that means all the  time?  it's all the time in my case.  if i want to orgasm i'm the only one who's going to get the job done.  again, i can't rely on him. he doesn't move in ways that bring me to climax and he doesn't touch me.  i have to do it myself or it doesn't happen.

i get so frustrated i think i may as well just do myself and use a vibrator for all the role he plays in my sexual pleasure.  again, i don't know if this is normal?  are all guys like this?  so lacking in knowledge or desire to please a woman?  or is he the odd one out?  is it something that can be learned or taught or do you have to have the desire and interest in the first place?  that's just the thing.  he doesn't seem to have the desire to improve or even wish he was a better lover.

when we talk about it his attitude is usually one of self-defeating self-pity.  he'd rather give up than try.  because the alternative means putting in the hard yards.  i get the sense he doesn't want to put in that effort.  he's worried putting in the effort will equal long and arduous sex sessions while he wants simple easy sex sessions.  quickies.  frustrating!

when i talk to girl friends their responses are usually that he's a dud but i don't know if this is true of just him.  what if all guys are duds?  what if his sexual ways are typical of men?  when i speak to guys about this they either advise me to give him directions (which i've done) or ditch him and go with them instead because they claim they're better.  again, who's to say they're also not going to be duds?  all talk and no action?

what the hell is a girl to do to get a guy to improve his skills and performance in bed?