"Ok you know you are always dissing on everyone that loves you it is actually kind of starting to piss me off."

This is a response to my Facebook status 'back in Missoula and ready to spend the rest of the weekend with people she hearts'.

The worst part is that the response came from my Aunt Brandy, known otherwise as my cool aunt. Known otherwise as, when I was in high school, one of about three people in Melrose I actually enjoyed being around.

The past couple of years she's been working. All the kids are in school, they're pretty self sufficient. My uncle decided that she had no excuse to be sitting around the house not doing anything anymore.
She's been growing up since then. Which is good. A 30-something year old woman with four kids should be a grown up. She shouldn't be acting like an eighteen year old.

The problem is that she's been growing up into someone I do not know. Brandy was the person I could vent to, who would complain about relatives with me. It made sense because I've always felt outside of the family and she actually is from outside of the family (having married my mother's brother). She was the one relative that I could go to movies with and chat with. The one who stood up for me and my non-interest in boys and dating. The first one who said "I'm pretty sure she's not a lesbian but even if she is, what does it matter?"

And now she's...that.

Mom's family lied to me about Thanksgiving. I didn't go to dinner because doing so would have led to possible bloodshed or me screaming my throat raw. I love certain members of my family, but I also hate others. And I will not be put in a threatening situation just to get maybe two sentences of conversation with those I don't hate.

I told Brandy (via Facebook) that I do love people in Melrose, but there are also people in Missoula who I gave up seeing in order to go to Melrose and be presented with a lie.

I've been putting in effort. The ones who love me have not. Brandy was actually supposed to drive me into town yesterday to meet mom but she didn't even call to tell me that plans had changed. She just kind of forgot about it and I got a ride with another relative going in.

If I can manage to leave school, give up my break, and leave behind a place that I love to go to the middle of nowhere, the least they can do is honor my wishes (not so hard considering they didn't want to go to dinner with the creep uncle either) or call when they say they will.

Love? My mom's family needs to learn that just because someone is related to you does not mean you love them. Loving and inhabiting the same territory are vastly different things.

That's what my dad told me after I stopped crying. I had been crying for three hours and when he answered the phone I was crying so hard he had to keep asking what was wrong.

"Where are you?"
I didn't need to tell him, but I did.

Monday my mother texted me that Grammy would be foregoing dinner with her brother (the one who I literally want to kill) and his wife in favor of having me come home. We would eat and talk and try to rebuild the relationship that has been crumbling for the past two years.
The plan was for her to pick me up today, but due to some medical thing, Mom came and got me instead.
About twenty minutes outside of Missoula she calls Grammy to say we're leaving. I'm all sorts of happy. Aside from normal school stress I've been great. Getting laid, going to parties, I went on a date, I've got a few days off. And my family finally understands that I don't want to be around him.
But as the conversation goes on, I pick up mention (from Mom's side of things) of changed plans. Mom starts talking about me staying at the house, not wanting to go and then "Bring her back food?"
I make a face and Mom tells Grammy "She hasn't changed her mind. No. No I don't think she will."

Long story short, my grandmother decided to go visit her brother and his wife and leave me to fend for myself on Thanksgiving. Even though their dinner is at 2:30, so I'll hardly be up and awake anyway. But she could bring something back (I wouldn't accept it. I feel it's wrong to take food and gifts and things from people you hate).

It's dark and I'm good at making my voice light so it takes a few miles for Mom to notice that I've started crying. When she asks what's wrong I start crying harder. When I find something to blow my nose with I tell her.
"If I wanted to sit alone while everyone else goes to dinner I would have stayed in Missoula."

I didn't just come here because I was going to be alone. I was ready to be alone instead of coming here and having a repeat of last year. I was fucking prepared to take a grocery store bought turkey sandwhich and crappy pie over this family. I had people who would have let me go with them but, like a dumbass, I thought my mom's family had finally gotten it in their heads that if they make me associate with him ever again I will stop visiting. I've spent the last two weeks freaking out over Christmas because I don't know where to go and refuse to be near the family that includes him.

Mom says "I wish you and (him) could have gotten along. But that just didn't work out."
No. It didn't. And I go off about how the treatment given to me is unfair but that's still not as bad as him telling my mom that she's a bad mother. Especially since he says this partly because I refuse to let him grope me and say the sorts of things that, if my boss said to me, I could report to Human Resources. And since he's treating me like this now, I don't want him being around my little girl cousin (who is about six now) while she grows up. I've never seen him around another girl my age and a girl my age is far different from a girl my cousin's age but, damnit, I want to make sure this doesn't continue so it's best to bring that up now.

Mom has removed herself from the family a little bit. She's living with her boyfriend for the most part (my grandma's house is still a convenient middle ground between the two jobs) and has learned that she doesn't have to take shit from her family if she doesn't want to.

She understands where I am coming from now. She didn't know this was going to happen and because I can't seem to stop crying, she tried coming up with something to make the situation better. The only idea is that, when she gets off work tomorrow (she's working every day I am here) we'll have dinner. Maybe her boyfriend will come down and join us. Maybe Grammy will change her mind or will be back by then and sit with us. But we can at least have dinner together when she gets off work.

We stop at a Safeway and I wander around like a lost child. I've put the crying on hold and I'm clutching the food I pick up like crazy people clutch flowers or teddy bears. All I really want to do at that moment is knock things off the shelves and start screaming, but Mom would freak out if I did and it wouldn't be fair to the Safeway employees. Still, when I get upset, I get upset. And when I get upset, I really just want to scream incoherently and destroy something. Instead, I settle for my wandering.

I cry more the rest of the way. I cry when we get there. I can stay at Grammy's and be there tomorrow, or stay in Dillon with Mom and her boyfriend and share space with him tomorrow and possibly his daughter (who, mom tells me, is probably going to pick a fight with him over her grades. Again). I don't want my mom to leave, but I don't want to witness other family drama tomorrow (or have my first time staying at her boyfriend's place be tearstained). Mom mentions my cat and I decide to stay here.

She talks to Grammy and I go back and forth between the room I'm in and the cat is settled (where I cry) and in the kitchen with them (where I hold back crying and nibble a danish). I stand silently and think of all the things I could be doing this weekend in Missoula.

-Homework
- Monologue Hunt
- Having a nerd day with Amelia and swapping recent sexytime tales
- Watching 'An Education' at The Wilma
- Handling The Nancy Situation
- Watching Season 3 of 'Mad Men' and/or catching up on 'House'
- Sleeping in my own bed
- Sleeping with other people
- Seeing friends who care about me instead of relatives who (sorry to sound emo) just don't understand

I cry again when Mom leaves and she tells me we'll have dinner tomorrow. She keeps asking if I'm alright, if I'm going to be.
"Normally I'm the one crying."

She leaves, I go to 'my' room, and start blubbering again. Sounds starts coming out so I do the only thing I can think of.
I call my dad and ask if I can visit for Christmas.

The problem with that is their robo-dog, alexa. Her back legs don't work (slipped or ruptured disc) and she takes up the space in the RV where the fold out couch folds out. They told me I could visit, but I thought I would be too much of a hassle. Now I just don't care.

Dad listens and tells me that I don't have to do anything. That this is bullshit, that they have no right to manipulate me. He also tells me he's disappointed when I share my very violent thoughts about the person in question. Dad was saying how I needed to do something, not just say things and I said maybe if I followed through with one of my threats to physically harm him the family would believe me. It is childish, just like Dad said, but it's how I feel. The man makes me feel threatened and that means i feel like lashing out in a way which will have a lasting effect. Because dirty looks and walking away just never seem to help. Still, the other threats (not visiting ever) need to be followed through on. Next time I'm told this shit won't happen, I'll say 'That's nice but I'm staying where I am'. Maybe if I spend enough major holidays somewhere else they'll get it.

But Dad and Maria can figure something out for Christmas. I'm too young to throw that holiday away. And I also refuse to ring in my 20th birthday in an area where celebrating means inviting unwanted attention or an area where there won't be a celebration at all (not that I normally get them. In the past ten years I have had one birthday party that included my friends).

Dad goes on to remind me that it could be worse. They aren't forcing me to dinner (they're just trying to manipulate me into going) and I'll have dinner with Mom. A mom who understands. And, Dad says, if Mom understands then she can get Grammy too. Because Mom has relatives she never sees, never visits. Relatives that we don't even talk about or bring up.
And I probably have people back in Missoula who would come and get me if I called them. Which is also true. Hell, Ryan told me on Tuesday (because, after the elation of being welcomed back, I realized something like this was going to happen) that if anything went down he would drive the many hour drive to come get me. Because Ryan's cool like that.
It was a big disappointment, but it isn't an explosive problem. It's actually not a big deal. Hearing him say that over and over helped. I still can't believe I cried that hard and for that long and it seems silly now. It's a big fucking disappointment, but I can still have a Thanksgiving. I can spend it with Mom (who is pretty much the only reason I didn't call things off on Tuesday night after my premonition of badness) and maybe the rest of the weekend won't suck.

One can only hope.

Current Mood: disappointed

It's not like 'Catcher in the Rye' where 'Fuck You' is a phrase used to showcase themes. It's not like 'Wuthering Heights' where people say the unhealthy relationship is unhealthy (even if it is hailed as a great romance).

Twilight is just...it's just going to rot the brains of youth and not even the 'at least they're reading' argument is good enough to keep those books around.

Yes I would, David. Yes I would.

If the world really is ending in 2012 but somehow this icon happened to me I wouldn't mind at all.

(By the way, Jawa, I have a Gwen icon now and multiple Ten-Inch ones but somehow I lack Harkness/Barrowmang. I feel this should be remedied. Tips?)

So I called my dad about Nancy asking me out (it happened last night. I almost threw up). Because I don't know how to tell someone I just want to be friends, no sex, definitely no dinner. I asked my dad because I'm kind of the guy in this situation, and my dad (when he was young) used to juggle, like, seven or eight girlfriends at a time.

After hearing me go through that and my plight, he starts off by saying:
"First off, it was not 'seven or eight'. It was six at the most. That is the maximum number you can have without everything falling apart. If one girl dropped me or I dropped her, I'd pick another one up. But six is the most you can have. Never more than six."

Good advice.

Then he went on to tell me that he made the girls aware that they were not singular. He was up front about them being 'one among more', but he 'treated each one like a queen when [he] was with her'. He would be honest about the multiple girls, but not rub their faces in it. This is something that should be remembered. Not just so that I understand he wasn't a douchebag to these girls, but because if I do this at any point in my life I should follow this rule.

My dad proceeded to tell me that, in his day, he was a huge fucking catch. I think this was his way of segueing into why I am getting male attention (because I have his genes, duh).

Hi advice was that I had to talk to Nancy and explain that I only wanted friendship. And it's no surprise that he wanted to get with me because (little known fact) no straight guy ever has a friend he doesn't want to bone. "They may not actively pursue sex, but they want it."

"I have had friends that were girls that I have never done anything with. I have never had a friend who was a girl that I did not want to bone."

This is good information to have, but not nearly so much as the next bit.

My dad told me that, when it comes to sex and furthering things, women hold all the power. They are the ones who get to decide if and when sex happens. Most girls don't realize this though, which is why they fret.

His logic was that if Nancy likes me, he probably has been keeping me as a friend in the hopes that we'd screw. And he was probably trying to take the easy route (my dad called me easy, but he also is giving me honest advice and has, in the past, given me his total blessing to be a slut as long as I continue to not get knocked up). And boys who take the easy route tend to overcomplicate things by, say asking the girl out when she doesn't want a date. Guys don't realize that the 'normal' girls they know, not the crazy sexual friends they have, are usually the actual easy route. And some guys will hold on 'for years' always semi-waiting to see if the easy thing finally puts out.

It's nice to have a dad who I can go to with this sort of thing. Most girls would go to their mom but, in terms of relationships and sex, I really am my father's daughter. His manwhorish past is my slutty future and I can learn from his mistakes and his wisdom. I mean, he not only okays my behaviour but tells me that my sexuality is my own, and I should be aware of the power I have as a woman because of that sexuality. And he isn't going to lie that he was perfect at monogamy (though we do not talk about these things when Maria is in the vicinity). He treated the women he knew well; he was just treating a lot of them well at the same time. And he fully admits that many of those women were the ones who walked out on him.
I don't think that most fathers would tell their daughters that. Sons maybe, but not daughters.

"I was the guy that I have been warning you about your entire life."
'Yeah, but because of that I can spot those guys and exert my womanly power over them.'
"That's what I was hoping for."

Yeah. My dad pretty much rules.
 

Current Mood: Awesome

I just ordered a purchase from Babeland for the first time ever.

Today, I am a liberated woman.

I just dug through entries to find that handy-dandy guide to Slanky members you gave me.

Sam WAS one of the single people. This makes me endlessly happy as I have been speaking to him and he seems nice/groovy/hot as fuck.
If Slanky comes to the cast party after the shows tonight, I am so going to try and make a move.

Your information has been joy-i-fying and wonderful. Thank you.
 
ETA: And he just added me as a friend on Facebook. Which doesn't mean he wants in my pants, but it is a friend request.

So it turns out that my suspicions were correct and Nancy boy DOES want in my pants. In a more serious way than other people I know.

He tipped me well, bought me a lap dance (true, he did get to watch), and bought me taco bell on the ride home. There was a moment at the strip club (my rockstar life continues) where I felt that pre-kiss tension but turned my head away. I like Nancy. He doesn't annoy me or anything and I used to have a small crush on him. But the crush went away and now I just think he's rather groovy.

But he was less hinting and more telling when he dropped me off. We chatted and joked (I can't remember the last one that led into this) and then I said goodbye. And he leaned in. He didn't kiss me, but he leaned in so far that I knew he wanted me to. So I figured 'what the hell' and I did.

It wasn't deep or passionate. But it was the sort of kissing I like when I don't feel like having rough kisses. Very soft. Very girly. And I told him that he kissed like a girl (I was sure to add that, to me, this is a very good thing). And we kissed a little more. (I remember now, the joke was about me almost leaving my skirt in the car and how he only gets articles of my clothing if stuff actually happens. So he mentioned how the seats in his car can fold down to make lots of space.)

Then, because I have a 9am class tomorrow and the first day of tech week, I parted and said I needed to go to bed. And he was cool with this. Because that's how Nancy rolls.

It wasn't awkward. Incredibly. The moments after parting were. But other than that not so much.

The thing about Nancy is that I like him. As a friend. There's nothing unattractive about him, and based on the brief conversations we've had about it, I think we'd get along well enough in bed. But he just doesn't do it for me. Which kind of sucks because he'll buy me fast food and lapdances, watch Simon Pegg movies with me, and make horrible jokes. Also, he is a nerd in his own way. But physically I feel nothing for him. The kiss was platonic on my end (because I have recently learned that I can kiss someone platonically. True facts) and I don't regret doing it. Even though he might now think I'm down with us getting down. Which is something that I should be fretting about right now but can't seem to bring myself to. The most I could picture us doing is hanging out, maybe fooling around, maybe screwing, and then me putting my pants on and going "See you later!" like I would to a friend I just watched a movie with.

Could such a set up work? A friends with benefits thing where one side doesn't even have sexual attraction to the other person? Just a fondness for them and a habit of being touchy-feely with people she cares for?

I'm not getting any confusion about this idea, nor am I hearing alarm bells go off. Nancy knows I don't go for relationships, so maybe he wouldn't push me into one. Hell, if he wanted to go get a girlfriend I would be down with it.

 

Current Mood: Hrm...

I love you.

We can has open marriage Y/Y?

I'll dance the Time Warp for you as long as you let me see the amazing pole dancing leopard girl and get lapdances from Liz again.

Please check

[  ] yes
[  ] no

Thank you. Loves!

Okay, so you know how when you were little boys would pick on you by say teasing you, or pushing you down, or pulling your hair? And adults would always say that they did that because they liked you?

Well, I am having a similar problem.

My ex-fuck buddy (we haven't had real sex in over a month and the last time he tected me was for phone sex) who is in the cast has been committing some acts of fuckery.

Phase 1: During 'Touch-A, Touch-A, Touch Me' we are on the same side. No big deal. We're also in the same sex statue for The Floor Show and we never touch, save occaisionally bumping into one another. So this is really no big deal. There are five of us on that side, one of the other people being my main Phantom friend (her character runs a brothel back on Transexual and I work for her) and one of the others being one of his.
Despite the fact that we never talk, we never touch, and we never interact at all off-stage or during any of the other numbers, he decides we need to dance together during this, one of the very sexual times of the show.
Alright.
And he decides that the way to do this is for him to grab my hips, press his junk very firmly into my backside, and have us grind and thrust away. Normally, this sort of dancing would just make me think of sex. Instead, it is making me think of sex with him because, well, I'm pretty sure we've been in a similar position before.
Still, it's for the song and I can wrap my arms around my main Phantom friend and we form a nice little threesome now that we have the rhythm down.

Phase 2: We are told to up the sexuality of the song because, well, it's a very sexual song. So I grope the other chick more and he grinds on me more and then (and this was the other day when I was having a very off way. And by off I mean I was super depressed, kind of numb inside, and had been having minor hallucinations coupled with lots of stress) he grabs my ponytail and pulls it back.
Now, main Phantom friend does this as part of our characterizations. But she doesn't pull so much as lead me as though my hair were a leash. An god knows I'm not opposed to a little hair pulling.
However, he knows this quite well and, when we stopped the song for the director to say something to the leads (who are both smokin' hot in that number by the way) the fucker smiles at me and goes "I didn't the hair pulling would be an issue".
Since I was out of it, I just sort of shrugged and didn't look at him (I hadn't been in the first place. He was more in my periphery) and did a very small sort of smile that was more residual of the one I was doing during the song.
But later it hit me and I was just like 'What the fuck? You just incorporated something you know turns me on into a dance number. That's...is that allowed?'
Brooke agrees this is borderline bullshit.

Phase 3: We do massage circles as part of our warm up. Somehow he was standing by me last night. Normally he seems to avoid me (we're both guilty of the casual avoidance thing, but he does it about 3 times more than I do. Like, he'll take a longer way to his water bottle to not have to walk by me) so this is odd. But it's cool because the person on the other side of me gives good massages.
But it's ex-fuck buddy who is doing me (shut up) first. And we're all massaging each other. I'm focusing on not doing a crap job (I'm more of a back walker than a back massager) because the person in front of me has phone-diagnosed Swine Flu. Ex-fucker (I think that's what it's going to be shortened to) has by now started massaging my neck and the very upper part of my shoulders. Not bad. Not the best I've ever had, or even the best I've ever had in this cast, but not bad.
And then I feel it.
While massaing me, during a warm up that is meant to make up feel the energy of one another and leave our private lives behind and enter rehearsal time he stealthily grabs my hair (it's always in a ponytail for rehearsal) and gives it a quick tug. Just enough for me to notice before he goes back to doing the massaging.
I responded by not responding. But inwardly I was screaming 'What the fuck?' I mean...What The Fuck?
He doesn't talk to me or look at me or anything. Doesn't text me. Doesn't call me. Doesn't acknowledge me when I'm two feet away from him and completely topless. So what is with this sudden hair pulling? And doing it in a sexual dance number is one thing. And sure, there is a lot of blurring of things here (private life and cast energy exchange kind of intertwined here for me). But doing something that you know from experience is something that helps someone get their rocks off seems...unprofessional? Asshat-y? I don't know. All I know is that my instant reaction was not a good one.

So yeah. I've been thinking about the playground rule of hair pulling being a sign that someone likes you. He doesn't 'like' me. Last weekend he was trying to pick up Brooke's roommate (which is laughable in it's futility for oh so many reasons) and he doesn't like dating. So the only option could be that he wants to fuck me again. If that's the case, why doesn't he just say something? Why this bullshit? Or maybe his ego is bruised that I don't seem to want to sleep with him again (I don't text him either, and I'm pretty sure he knew that I was, in his words, 'humoring him' when he drunkenly asked for phone sex. Something he knows and will admit does nothing for me) so he's trying to make me reconsider it or something? It makes me wonder how his sex life is going right now. And he actually gets to go to bars and try to sex girls up, so he doesn't have the excuse that I do. Then there's always the option that he is just being a fucker.

It's all very confusing. I call fuckwittage.

Current Mood: confused

Is that they take your time. I'm a-okay with my Mormon Cousin and our conversations. But he always seems to want to talk about his issues during my study time. And, being the nice person that I am, I listen and give advice and then look at the clock and think 'Holy Fuck it's almost midnight'.

Why can he never have these issues when I have free time? Which, you know, isn't very often, but still.

Current Mood: tired

I am doing a meme. Stolen from Twinkie.

( Please to enjoy )

You deserved to get yelled at by the teacher.

Also, you drove me to tears.

Hopefully we can move past this, but this start to things isn't filling me with much hope.

Next time, please let me be the one to talk.

ETA:
PS: Your passive-aggressive response to my text about the scene we were told to look at is not only childish but stupid, considering the teacher told us we should look at that and forget about doing the scene we asked for (and then you said you hated despite never having had read).

Current Mood: crappy

If you insist on continuing in this manner I will have no choice but to kill you.

Seriously. What fucktard asks if A Streetcar Named Desire is 'a good play'?

Current Mood: FLAMES ON THE SIDE OF MY FACE

So tonight was night 3 of 4 for The Cabaret and it was awesome.

The Rocky Cast elected to go to a strip club instead of coming to see us and the pilot light also went out, meaning out audience was bundled up while they watched us shiver and shimmy in our skimpy costumes.

But dear god this was the best night of them all. They cheered, they bantered, they played along. In short, tonight's audience did everything a Cabaret for this sort of venue is supposed to do, including erupting into raucous cheers when I dropped my sheet and showed them all my hot ass.

Tonight also marked a first for me, an event that I thought would take me years to achieved.

Not one but TWO audience members seriously propositioned me. One (who I made out with last week at a party and who hasn't called me since) asked to buy me a drink and meet me backstage. The other (a friend of one of the cast) asked if I wanted to go home with him.

I declined both, but damn I felt special. I got me some stagedoor Johnnies. I don't even know if they count, if there is certain protocol that one must go throught to deserve the label, but it makes me all giddy to know that I was such hot stuff on stage people had the balls to ask for the whole package.

Current Mood: Hee

I haven't even been at my new job for a week and I love it. There are two magic wands around the office (one of which is large and makes noise), all the people are friendly, I get to file (it soothes me), and my boss is super nice.

Seriously. I was out sick for the past two days and when I came in today and asked to leave early today and tomorrow he was like "I dunno, you were gone two whole days...alright."

He's apparently just really happy to have someone to file everything for him (it's a lot of little cards) and stay in the office and maintain the 'it can never be empty' rule so he can run to the bathroom.

Also, this awesome old lady (who is sadly leaving but to better things) was talking today about how another woman in the office can't break any rules at all, even to make herself more comfortable, even if the rules are tired and dated and teeny-tiny. I started something about how if no one broke rules society would never move on. I'd be married, pregnant, and unhappy like a lot of the women in my family instead of happy and in college.

When I said that the lady said "Right on. Way to break the mold!'

My job is nice.

I'm not going to discuss the somehow not awkward events of my life right now. But there was a temporary addition to my list of admirers this morning.

I love catcalls. I'm one of those women who will stop and bask in them, whether it be by a contruction worker or a frat boy driving by in his car.

This morning I was on my way to hunt breakfast (note: the hunt was successful) and as I passed one of the dorms a window flung open loud enough for me to hear (it was second story) and some guy popped his head out.

He then proceeded to 'rap' about 'what he saw'. It sounded complimentary, if not clumsily thrown together.

I kept walking because a) it was early b) I was hungry and c) I just didn't know how to react.

A rapping catcall? Maybe if it had been good I would have reacted more appropirately. But as it was crap rapping (the guy was white) I just had this subtle feeling of 'wtf'?

Still. Points for creativity.

Current Mood: confused

Post a picture in my comments of what you think describes me when you think about what/who I am. No matter how surreal or plain.

Give no written explanation.

Just an image.

(Optional: Post this in your journal and see what images you get.)

Do it bitches.