I may do this every week. I haven't decided yet. Honesty hour with Melissa. I need to get that shit out of my head.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Friday, February 25, 2011
Rut your stuff
Yeah.
I'm. Yeah. Not super awesome. SO DEPRESSED. I realise my version of "so depressed" is nowhere near other peoples versions, but doesn't stop it from being any less bad for me.
I want to cry. I would like to vomit. I'm struggling.
I'M OKAY! Or at least, doing better. My mood is waaaaay unbalanced presently. Highs and lows. And...so much cranky. Shit. Need to clean that house. It's makin me a crankosaurus.
So, on Tuesday, apart from the fact that a massive earthquake came along and FUCKED UP Christchurch(I felt it in my office, in Wellington, which would see to suggest that it was really strong there, and it was, and it did a LOT of damage). Um, so, that happened at noonish. And then a couple of hours later, I found out(this was more devestating for me...I know, it shouldn't work that way, but it just does) that QOTSA were postponing their show till Wednesday. Fair enough, I'm sad, but I can accept that. I get a call from my dad. He's moving in, as "flatmates" with Debra, the woman that I HATE and work with. I WORK WITH HER. I HATE HER. OH MY GOD. WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME? I realise, that everything isn't about me. I know that. This woman has been in my life since I was a child, and she irritates the crap out of me. I haven't always worked with her, this is true, but she's overly familiar with me at work even though she barely knows anything about me, just whatever my dad tells her.
Anyway, he;s moving in with her in three weeks. I just spoke to mah boss about it today. Shortly after I claimed I wanted to vom. So borderline tears at one point, but I told him that I didn't want to have any shifts alone with her. Because I don't. Because she'll just talk at me about my father. He said that's cool, he's made note of it, I won't be having anymore shifts alone with her. Which is such a relief. I told him what the story is. Under the strictest of confience. Because I was told that I'm not allowed to tell anyone at work. Because she wants to keep her husband(he's moving out in 2 weeks, my dad moves in in 3) on her health insurance. Niiiiice. Probably the talking aspect also. (She's paro about the office talk, mostly because she taaaaaalks about others). So, I guess, that's a relief. As long as I don't have to deal with her on my own, it should be okay. And I'm going to talk to her next time we're both working, and let her know that I'm not okay with her talking to me about my father. Because I really, truely don't want to talk to her about it. Any of it. I don't want to know.
MORE TOMORROW. HOME FOR NOW.
I'm. Yeah. Not super awesome. SO DEPRESSED. I realise my version of "so depressed" is nowhere near other peoples versions, but doesn't stop it from being any less bad for me.
I want to cry. I would like to vomit. I'm struggling.
I'M OKAY! Or at least, doing better. My mood is waaaaay unbalanced presently. Highs and lows. And...so much cranky. Shit. Need to clean that house. It's makin me a crankosaurus.
So, on Tuesday, apart from the fact that a massive earthquake came along and FUCKED UP Christchurch(I felt it in my office, in Wellington, which would see to suggest that it was really strong there, and it was, and it did a LOT of damage). Um, so, that happened at noonish. And then a couple of hours later, I found out(this was more devestating for me...I know, it shouldn't work that way, but it just does) that QOTSA were postponing their show till Wednesday. Fair enough, I'm sad, but I can accept that. I get a call from my dad. He's moving in, as "flatmates" with Debra, the woman that I HATE and work with. I WORK WITH HER. I HATE HER. OH MY GOD. WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME? I realise, that everything isn't about me. I know that. This woman has been in my life since I was a child, and she irritates the crap out of me. I haven't always worked with her, this is true, but she's overly familiar with me at work even though she barely knows anything about me, just whatever my dad tells her.
Anyway, he;s moving in with her in three weeks. I just spoke to mah boss about it today. Shortly after I claimed I wanted to vom. So borderline tears at one point, but I told him that I didn't want to have any shifts alone with her. Because I don't. Because she'll just talk at me about my father. He said that's cool, he's made note of it, I won't be having anymore shifts alone with her. Which is such a relief. I told him what the story is. Under the strictest of confience. Because I was told that I'm not allowed to tell anyone at work. Because she wants to keep her husband(he's moving out in 2 weeks, my dad moves in in 3) on her health insurance. Niiiiice. Probably the talking aspect also. (She's paro about the office talk, mostly because she taaaaaalks about others). So, I guess, that's a relief. As long as I don't have to deal with her on my own, it should be okay. And I'm going to talk to her next time we're both working, and let her know that I'm not okay with her talking to me about my father. Because I really, truely don't want to talk to her about it. Any of it. I don't want to know.
MORE TOMORROW. HOME FOR NOW.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Yeah...
Just in case you haven't figured it out, telling someone you need to talk to them is possibly the best way to make them have a massive freak out. Surefire. Even if you say "it's nothing bad I promise."
This is what went down. (Blue is for boys)
"Whats the matter?"
"Nothing, I just to talk to you about something"
"About what? Please tell me."
"Just where I'm at with some stuff"
"Tell me. What have I done wrong now."
"Such as what?'
"You haven't done anything wrong."
"You're not pregnant are you?"
"Oh dear god you are"
"No. I'm not pregnant. I haven't slept with anyone but you in a very long time, and I'm on the pill. It's nothing bad, really."
"Now I'm worried"
"You don't have to be worried, it's okay, everything is fine, I'm sorry that I've made you panic about nothing."
"Ok. We can speak sometime next week if that is okay with you"
"Yes, that would be good. Don't stress, it really isn't anything bad. Cross my heart and hope to die, nothing bad."
"I have had an anxiety attack now."
"I'm really sorry. Everything is okay I promise."
I would just like to say for the majority of this conversation, I was taking calls, so I couldn't really answer questions immediately, hence the pregnancy freak out.
Learning. I'm still learning.
This is what went down. (Blue is for boys)
"Whats the matter?"
"Nothing, I just to talk to you about something"
"About what? Please tell me."
"Just where I'm at with some stuff"
"Tell me. What have I done wrong now."
"Such as what?'
"You haven't done anything wrong."
"You're not pregnant are you?"
"Oh dear god you are"
"No. I'm not pregnant. I haven't slept with anyone but you in a very long time, and I'm on the pill. It's nothing bad, really."
"Now I'm worried"
"You don't have to be worried, it's okay, everything is fine, I'm sorry that I've made you panic about nothing."
"Ok. We can speak sometime next week if that is okay with you"
"Yes, that would be good. Don't stress, it really isn't anything bad. Cross my heart and hope to die, nothing bad."
"I have had an anxiety attack now."
"I'm really sorry. Everything is okay I promise."
I would just like to say for the majority of this conversation, I was taking calls, so I couldn't really answer questions immediately, hence the pregnancy freak out.
Learning. I'm still learning.
BAM!
Last night, while having a bath, high, and eating water melon, I had an epiphany. A travelling epiphany. It goes like this:
This year, I'm not going to go to South America. Not because I don't want to, but because, presently, I don't have anyone to go with, and the more I think about it, the more certain I am that I shouldn't go there alone. I just don't think, as a lone white girl with big titties, that it would be safe.
Instead, I'm going to go to Australia for a few weeks, most likely go to Sydney for a bit and hang out with my uncle and aunt, then Adelaide and hang out with the family for a bit, and then I'll cruise to Melbourne, and hang at my uncles apartment in Melbourne, maybe go over to the beach house for a bit, I'm not too sure, but I'll figure that part out later.
And then, NEXT year, I'm going to do BIG travel. Maybe 4 months, maybe longer. I'm not sure. But I figure, if I have $5000 to go to aussie with, and then I just save like there's no tomorrow for Europe/South America/maybe North America too, then I should have enough funds to keep me afloat for a reasonable amount of time. Pretty much, I plan on visiting everyone I can in their new foreign homes. So I should have a couple of plays to stay in Europe/UK, and I can roam around between them, just book the bare essentials flight wise before I leave and kinda just wing it for the majority of the time. I'll have ideas of what I want to do/where I want to go, but nothing rigid, because you never know when you might decide that you love a place and want to spend 5 days there instead of two, or, you get somewhere and decide it's a shithole and you want to just keep going.
So yes. That is what I decided. As always, open to suggestions.
Oh. Also. Decided how that lil conversation is going to go(it was a magical bath full of magical ideas). Pretty much, I'm going to make him shut up and listen for starters. And then:
I really like you, but I want more than I'm currently getting. I understand that you don't necessarily want that, but I do. I want that stupid boyfriend crap. I'm quite happy to continue things the way that they are, but you should know that I am going to start dating other people, and, if I happen to meet someone that I'm serious about, the sexy business is going to have to stop.
I think that pretty much sums it up. I may not use those words, but, that's the gist of things. I'm trying to be a grown up, because I feel in this situation, not being a grown up will just go really badly for me, because of all the extra crap surrounding it. And when I say crap, I mean, drama potential. It could go SO BADLY for me. But it won't. Because I'm going to deal to this like a real adult. I'M A BIG KID NOW!
Yeah. On that note. HIGHLY recommend eating a watermelon in the bath. It's so good, you have no idea. Just do it. Cut the top off and scoop that delicious flesh out with a spoon. And giggle about melons. Do it. And now, I have hilarious pictures on my phone to giggle at.
This year, I'm not going to go to South America. Not because I don't want to, but because, presently, I don't have anyone to go with, and the more I think about it, the more certain I am that I shouldn't go there alone. I just don't think, as a lone white girl with big titties, that it would be safe.
Instead, I'm going to go to Australia for a few weeks, most likely go to Sydney for a bit and hang out with my uncle and aunt, then Adelaide and hang out with the family for a bit, and then I'll cruise to Melbourne, and hang at my uncles apartment in Melbourne, maybe go over to the beach house for a bit, I'm not too sure, but I'll figure that part out later.
And then, NEXT year, I'm going to do BIG travel. Maybe 4 months, maybe longer. I'm not sure. But I figure, if I have $5000 to go to aussie with, and then I just save like there's no tomorrow for Europe/South America/maybe North America too, then I should have enough funds to keep me afloat for a reasonable amount of time. Pretty much, I plan on visiting everyone I can in their new foreign homes. So I should have a couple of plays to stay in Europe/UK, and I can roam around between them, just book the bare essentials flight wise before I leave and kinda just wing it for the majority of the time. I'll have ideas of what I want to do/where I want to go, but nothing rigid, because you never know when you might decide that you love a place and want to spend 5 days there instead of two, or, you get somewhere and decide it's a shithole and you want to just keep going.
So yes. That is what I decided. As always, open to suggestions.
Oh. Also. Decided how that lil conversation is going to go(it was a magical bath full of magical ideas). Pretty much, I'm going to make him shut up and listen for starters. And then:
I really like you, but I want more than I'm currently getting. I understand that you don't necessarily want that, but I do. I want that stupid boyfriend crap. I'm quite happy to continue things the way that they are, but you should know that I am going to start dating other people, and, if I happen to meet someone that I'm serious about, the sexy business is going to have to stop.
I think that pretty much sums it up. I may not use those words, but, that's the gist of things. I'm trying to be a grown up, because I feel in this situation, not being a grown up will just go really badly for me, because of all the extra crap surrounding it. And when I say crap, I mean, drama potential. It could go SO BADLY for me. But it won't. Because I'm going to deal to this like a real adult. I'M A BIG KID NOW!
Yeah. On that note. HIGHLY recommend eating a watermelon in the bath. It's so good, you have no idea. Just do it. Cut the top off and scoop that delicious flesh out with a spoon. And giggle about melons. Do it. And now, I have hilarious pictures on my phone to giggle at.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Broken Record
It's hard to plan out a conversation when you don't know what the other person will say.
I keep rolling it round in my head. How do I do this? If anyone wants to offer helpful advice, feel free.
Pretty much, the conversation, at present, goes like this "I really like you, but I think you know that already." And then....maybe something about wanting more. Probably more than he'll be wanting to give me. I really miss that stupid boyfriend shit that you do. Not him, because I don't even know if he does things like that. But more, the spooning and the maybe holding hands sometimes and forcing them to go to social events where you know they'll probably feel awkward until they realise that everyone I hang out with is equally as awkward, if not more, in their own special ways. I'm aware this blog has turned into nothing more than me mulling over my love life woes. I'm sorry. I apologise for that. I'm not going to stop though.
I've realised though, that I don't hold high hopes for an outcome involving unicorns, rainbows and kittens bursting from within as I explode with joy. I don't expect the outcome to involve him wanting to give me more. I could be wrong. I don't think I am. I may have already resigned myself to this as what will be happening. Cos that's what I do. I could be head over heels one day, and then just...over it the next. Well, almost over it. I'll probably rock some hurt for a while when I drink, but apart from that, as far as the unwitting observer is aware, I'm over it.
It's not like there is anything wrong with the relationship. Well, okay. There are lots of things wrong. But it's fun, and flirty, and when I actually get to spend time with him, I'm genuinely happy. There just isn't enough of the time where I get to hang out with him, just, as people, rather than the normal labels you can attach during office hours. Like right now, it's secret flirty. Secret secret, hush hush hush. Shhhhhhh. Don't tell anyone. It would be bad. So bad. Mucho trouble. My underwear is fucking riding my cooch so bad. And my butt. OMG IT'S TRYING TO EAT ME. Seriously. These underwear aren't going to be worn again. I lie. They're quite pretty. And red. My only pair of sexy red underwear. Men don't care if it's gettin up in your business. Really don't care. Probably like it more. Who knows? Men. They know. Because...they are men, and I am speculating on their opinions. I'm sure some men wouldn't like it more. Damn I'm good at the ramble. I'm feeling hyperactive. If I wasn't finishing at 9, and it wasn't Saturday, I would be going for a run when I get home. But it is Saturday, and I do finish at 9, and what kind of FREAK goes running through Aro at 10pm on a Saturday night, unless they've committed a crime, or are taking some sweet mind altering drugs.
I need to go sort out the underwear. RIGHT NOW. OMG. I'm seriously being eaten alive. I move to the side, and it attacks. SO MUCH BETTER!Although, every time I wriggle around, they start to creep. And, I'm really, really full of energy. Sitting still is really hard. WHAT DO THOSE LOOKS MEAN? OH GOD I WISH I KNEW. I want to rip his clothes off. Just tear them straight off his body. Goddam. I was well chuffed with the quicky on the secret floor. But that was on Monday. And it was, just a quicky. I need more than 8 minutes. Much more. Please?
I'm going to go and look at pictures of things. I still have 2.5 hours to go until my shift finishes. Hopefully it doesn't drag as much as yesterday, because that was just plain painful. I may also facebook stalk a little, because, well, who doesn't love a good fb stalk from time to time? It's healthy!
I keep rolling it round in my head. How do I do this? If anyone wants to offer helpful advice, feel free.
Pretty much, the conversation, at present, goes like this "I really like you, but I think you know that already." And then....maybe something about wanting more. Probably more than he'll be wanting to give me. I really miss that stupid boyfriend shit that you do. Not him, because I don't even know if he does things like that. But more, the spooning and the maybe holding hands sometimes and forcing them to go to social events where you know they'll probably feel awkward until they realise that everyone I hang out with is equally as awkward, if not more, in their own special ways. I'm aware this blog has turned into nothing more than me mulling over my love life woes. I'm sorry. I apologise for that. I'm not going to stop though.
I've realised though, that I don't hold high hopes for an outcome involving unicorns, rainbows and kittens bursting from within as I explode with joy. I don't expect the outcome to involve him wanting to give me more. I could be wrong. I don't think I am. I may have already resigned myself to this as what will be happening. Cos that's what I do. I could be head over heels one day, and then just...over it the next. Well, almost over it. I'll probably rock some hurt for a while when I drink, but apart from that, as far as the unwitting observer is aware, I'm over it.
It's not like there is anything wrong with the relationship. Well, okay. There are lots of things wrong. But it's fun, and flirty, and when I actually get to spend time with him, I'm genuinely happy. There just isn't enough of the time where I get to hang out with him, just, as people, rather than the normal labels you can attach during office hours. Like right now, it's secret flirty. Secret secret, hush hush hush. Shhhhhhh. Don't tell anyone. It would be bad. So bad. Mucho trouble. My underwear is fucking riding my cooch so bad. And my butt. OMG IT'S TRYING TO EAT ME. Seriously. These underwear aren't going to be worn again. I lie. They're quite pretty. And red. My only pair of sexy red underwear. Men don't care if it's gettin up in your business. Really don't care. Probably like it more. Who knows? Men. They know. Because...they are men, and I am speculating on their opinions. I'm sure some men wouldn't like it more. Damn I'm good at the ramble. I'm feeling hyperactive. If I wasn't finishing at 9, and it wasn't Saturday, I would be going for a run when I get home. But it is Saturday, and I do finish at 9, and what kind of FREAK goes running through Aro at 10pm on a Saturday night, unless they've committed a crime, or are taking some sweet mind altering drugs.
I need to go sort out the underwear. RIGHT NOW. OMG. I'm seriously being eaten alive. I move to the side, and it attacks. SO MUCH BETTER!Although, every time I wriggle around, they start to creep. And, I'm really, really full of energy. Sitting still is really hard. WHAT DO THOSE LOOKS MEAN? OH GOD I WISH I KNEW. I want to rip his clothes off. Just tear them straight off his body. Goddam. I was well chuffed with the quicky on the secret floor. But that was on Monday. And it was, just a quicky. I need more than 8 minutes. Much more. Please?
I'm going to go and look at pictures of things. I still have 2.5 hours to go until my shift finishes. Hopefully it doesn't drag as much as yesterday, because that was just plain painful. I may also facebook stalk a little, because, well, who doesn't love a good fb stalk from time to time? It's healthy!
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
I'M JUST SO ANGRY!
ABOUT EVERYTHING! I'm actually, just so fucking filled with rage. I want to explode. I want to pulverise the shit outta something. I WANT TO BRING MY SMACKDOWN! So, on Sunday, I stopped smoking again. Monday was all good. I was fine on Monday. I survived a.o.k. I got laid, I was happy, I got to happy on motherfucking valentines day, and I was fine. Today. Ugh. Yesterday even.
Yesterday, all day, at work, I was sweet. I was in charge while the boss was away and it was good. I had things to do, and I was happy to be doing them. I got home, eventually, and I could just feel the rage. It was building. I wanted to kill everyone around me and there was no real reason why. I had a smoke. It made it slightly better. I had 2 more while I was out having d'n'm's with Toula last night. It was good talking to her. Didn't resolve my today rage though.
So, got to work, was doing okay, Tarsh tells me I'm doing the late on Monday. Okay. Cool. Love doing the lates. Sweet as. Take it in my stride. Look at the roster. Late on Tuesday as well. THERE IS NO MOTHERFUCKING WAY I'M DOING THE LATE ON TUESDAY. I'm going to Queens of The Stone Age, and I'm not working right up until they start playing no way. So I sent James an email. That was an hour ago. No reply. Nothing. He better fix that shit. There's no way I'm doing a late. If he doesn't change it, I'll leave early.
I want to cry and break shit. I want to punch him in the face. Okay. I think that urge may have passed. Maybe. Feeling considerably less ragey. Deep breaths. I think late shifts send me into a rage. I have them on Friday and Saturday. And Monday. And...I can't look at the roster, so I don't know if he's changed it, but seriously, I'm not doing a late shift.
I need to talk to him. Properly. Yes. I know I've been saying that for...A LONG TIME, but it needs to happen for real. Not just in my head. Not as I'm falling asleep at night, for real real this time. Actually do it. I can do it. I KNOW I CAN. If I don't, well, I may as well just stop trying, and just move on, but I have to find out before I give up, because otherwise I'll just wonder, and I probably couldn't just stop doing what I am without saying SOMETHING.
Ugh. I'm posting, and doing the work that I should have done hours ago.
Yesterday, all day, at work, I was sweet. I was in charge while the boss was away and it was good. I had things to do, and I was happy to be doing them. I got home, eventually, and I could just feel the rage. It was building. I wanted to kill everyone around me and there was no real reason why. I had a smoke. It made it slightly better. I had 2 more while I was out having d'n'm's with Toula last night. It was good talking to her. Didn't resolve my today rage though.
So, got to work, was doing okay, Tarsh tells me I'm doing the late on Monday. Okay. Cool. Love doing the lates. Sweet as. Take it in my stride. Look at the roster. Late on Tuesday as well. THERE IS NO MOTHERFUCKING WAY I'M DOING THE LATE ON TUESDAY. I'm going to Queens of The Stone Age, and I'm not working right up until they start playing no way. So I sent James an email. That was an hour ago. No reply. Nothing. He better fix that shit. There's no way I'm doing a late. If he doesn't change it, I'll leave early.
I want to cry and break shit. I want to punch him in the face. Okay. I think that urge may have passed. Maybe. Feeling considerably less ragey. Deep breaths. I think late shifts send me into a rage. I have them on Friday and Saturday. And Monday. And...I can't look at the roster, so I don't know if he's changed it, but seriously, I'm not doing a late shift.
I need to talk to him. Properly. Yes. I know I've been saying that for...A LONG TIME, but it needs to happen for real. Not just in my head. Not as I'm falling asleep at night, for real real this time. Actually do it. I can do it. I KNOW I CAN. If I don't, well, I may as well just stop trying, and just move on, but I have to find out before I give up, because otherwise I'll just wonder, and I probably couldn't just stop doing what I am without saying SOMETHING.
Ugh. I'm posting, and doing the work that I should have done hours ago.
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