When I was younger and my brother and I used to fight, you wouldn’t step in no matter how much I whined; you taught me to stand up for myself.
When I was learning how to ride a bike, you took the training wheels off before I was ready; you taught me that life wasn’t easy, and you taught me to be ready for anything.
When I did something wrong, you spanked me; you taught me right from wrong.
When I did something right, you encouraged me; you taught me the value of hard work.
When I saw you with your friends and even with total strangers, you taught me how to treat people; with respect and caring.
When you left, you taught me that love hurts.
When you came back and tried to make things right, you taught me that love can also heal.
Then, before I knew it, you were gone and there was nothing else you could teach me... All I had was the lingering smell of Old Spice and cigarettes… and the hope that we will one day see each other again.
R.I.P Dad, love you always.
[listening to: Dance With My Father - Luther Vandross]
Monday, February 8, 2010
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?
Part of the 12 – step program is to admit to our shortcomings. So I’m going to fess up to one of my major ones…
I get physical too fast. Now I don’t mean that I jumped in the sack with every single guy, but I have on three occasions been guilty of that.
Most recently was Seximus Prime. Sure, I’ve known him for years but in the words of my best friend, I wouldn’t have died if I made him wait before he got his hands on the goods.
Then there was G.I. Joe, the guy who was responsible for most of my heartbreak last year. We never really dated but we were somewhat exclusive. We liked each other but he thought I was too wild for him and I didn’t exactly try to prove him wrong. We left things hanging but the last time I saw him, he was with some other girl and acted like I was part of the wall hangings.
And there was my ex. The Bastard. We did the do only a week or so after we met. Sure, we dated for more or less two years but I consider it a monumental waste of time and he left me deeply emotionally scarred.
Anyway, I digress.
Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free? Case in point, G.I. Joe; he got a years worth of the mattress mambo without committing to me. And Seximus Prime, who I know I’d boink again, given the chance, fully knowing the chances of him committing are as slim as that Olsen twin with the eating disorder. Clearly, there is no need to buy the whole cow. Sure, it would be awesome to have cheese and butter, and later tasty beef burgers and leather… but those are all frills that guys can live without, or simply get from another cow.
I’m not easy, I sometimes just get carried away, but I really need to figure out a way to make a transition from being the hook up girl to being the girlfriend. I’m lonely; I want someone to cuddle with and to stay up all night talking to. I don’t want to constantly worry if I’m overstepping my boundaries and if I’m acting too girlfriendy…
The next step? To fix the flaws… so I’m consciously trying to ignore my cherry and pay more attention to common sense…
PS: methinks L.A should get out of my head, our blog posts are starting to sound a lot alike =P
I get physical too fast. Now I don’t mean that I jumped in the sack with every single guy, but I have on three occasions been guilty of that.
Most recently was Seximus Prime. Sure, I’ve known him for years but in the words of my best friend, I wouldn’t have died if I made him wait before he got his hands on the goods.
Then there was G.I. Joe, the guy who was responsible for most of my heartbreak last year. We never really dated but we were somewhat exclusive. We liked each other but he thought I was too wild for him and I didn’t exactly try to prove him wrong. We left things hanging but the last time I saw him, he was with some other girl and acted like I was part of the wall hangings.
And there was my ex. The Bastard. We did the do only a week or so after we met. Sure, we dated for more or less two years but I consider it a monumental waste of time and he left me deeply emotionally scarred.
Anyway, I digress.
Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free? Case in point, G.I. Joe; he got a years worth of the mattress mambo without committing to me. And Seximus Prime, who I know I’d boink again, given the chance, fully knowing the chances of him committing are as slim as that Olsen twin with the eating disorder. Clearly, there is no need to buy the whole cow. Sure, it would be awesome to have cheese and butter, and later tasty beef burgers and leather… but those are all frills that guys can live without, or simply get from another cow.
I’m not easy, I sometimes just get carried away, but I really need to figure out a way to make a transition from being the hook up girl to being the girlfriend. I’m lonely; I want someone to cuddle with and to stay up all night talking to. I don’t want to constantly worry if I’m overstepping my boundaries and if I’m acting too girlfriendy…
The next step? To fix the flaws… so I’m consciously trying to ignore my cherry and pay more attention to common sense…
PS: methinks L.A should get out of my head, our blog posts are starting to sound a lot alike =P
Monday, February 1, 2010
Drama - tox
Oh shit, I just realized something. History is repeating itself… my dating history… but more on that later…
Most, if not all girls have watched He’s Just Not That Into You. The main character, Gigi, reminds me of myself in some ways that I am not very proud of.
She was over zealous in her search for love, throwing herself at every guy who showed the slightest bit of interest. She’d let her imagination run wild, and see said guy and herself in a long – term relationship, even though it was only the first date.
In the end, after much heartache and soul – searching, she realized that she was not the exception; the girl who manages to find happily ever after with her soul mate in record time, but that instead, she was the rule.
I, like Gigi, am the rule. And like she did in the movie, I need to change the way I look at things. No more J.D – esque daydreams about happily – ever – after a few days into a flirtation, no more sitting around for hours analyzing everything about a conversation with a guy and spinning it to suit me, and no more wasting time on someone who clearly is just not that into me. I’m tired of all the drama that comes with it…
That said, getting over Seximus Prime (the guy from to posts ago) and his ridiculous love making is number one on my drama – tox list. He says he’s not in the right place for anything serious right now but is down for something casual. Which I’m not sure I want to get into for the simple reason that I’m far too emotional for casual sex… That and the “I’m not ready” excuse has been overdone; the girl feels sorry for you because of your previous relationship problems, you say you’re not ready but she hears that you’re not ready YET, and she ends up hanging around basically playing the girlfriend role, but not realizing how disposable she is…
What else is on my drama – tox list? I’m not sure yet, all I know is, I need to simplify my life, it’s getting wildly out of control…
Sigh…
[listening to: I don’t trust myself (with loving you) – John Mayer]
Most, if not all girls have watched He’s Just Not That Into You. The main character, Gigi, reminds me of myself in some ways that I am not very proud of.
She was over zealous in her search for love, throwing herself at every guy who showed the slightest bit of interest. She’d let her imagination run wild, and see said guy and herself in a long – term relationship, even though it was only the first date.
In the end, after much heartache and soul – searching, she realized that she was not the exception; the girl who manages to find happily ever after with her soul mate in record time, but that instead, she was the rule.
I, like Gigi, am the rule. And like she did in the movie, I need to change the way I look at things. No more J.D – esque daydreams about happily – ever – after a few days into a flirtation, no more sitting around for hours analyzing everything about a conversation with a guy and spinning it to suit me, and no more wasting time on someone who clearly is just not that into me. I’m tired of all the drama that comes with it…
That said, getting over Seximus Prime (the guy from to posts ago) and his ridiculous love making is number one on my drama – tox list. He says he’s not in the right place for anything serious right now but is down for something casual. Which I’m not sure I want to get into for the simple reason that I’m far too emotional for casual sex… That and the “I’m not ready” excuse has been overdone; the girl feels sorry for you because of your previous relationship problems, you say you’re not ready but she hears that you’re not ready YET, and she ends up hanging around basically playing the girlfriend role, but not realizing how disposable she is…
What else is on my drama – tox list? I’m not sure yet, all I know is, I need to simplify my life, it’s getting wildly out of control…
Sigh…
[listening to: I don’t trust myself (with loving you) – John Mayer]
Monday, January 25, 2010
Tired and uninspired...
I have been typing and deleting for an hour now.
My mind is messy, full of thoughts that are difficult to put into words.
I thought I had something to say, but obviously not...
I am mentally exhausted from all the thinking and physically exhausted from insomnia and migraines; a result of the constant chaos that is my brain.
Usually I'd write to unclutter my brain, but we can all see how well that's going...
I need to find the off switch; an hour or two of dead air would be greatly appreciated.
But there is no off switch.
And I’m out of painkillers.
Shit.
My mind is messy, full of thoughts that are difficult to put into words.
I thought I had something to say, but obviously not...
I am mentally exhausted from all the thinking and physically exhausted from insomnia and migraines; a result of the constant chaos that is my brain.
Usually I'd write to unclutter my brain, but we can all see how well that's going...
I need to find the off switch; an hour or two of dead air would be greatly appreciated.
But there is no off switch.
And I’m out of painkillers.
Shit.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Sex on fire...
“You look good in my shirt.”
I looked up to see him leaning on his elbow, smiling at me. I smiled back and crawled back into bed, playfully pulling the sheets off him. He spanked me and pulled me in for a kiss. And then we made love for the second time that morning.
Back In high school, there was this guy I had a major crush on. For over a year. And he liked me too, but for reasons I can’t quite explain, things never quite worked out between us. We went our separate ways and apart from a few encounters in some of my more steamy dreams, haven’t seen each other since.
But now we’re going to the same uni.
We just spent the night together.
He’s my weakness, I find him completely irresistible. And his sex? Don’t even get me started; my body has never experienced so much pleasure at any given time. After we were done, he held me close to him and we slept in each other’s arms. More like napped really, we kept waking up to do it again and again, our bodies were on fire and our appetites for each other insatiable.
“Baby, you awake?” I responded by playfully kissing his nose. Then he said the one thing I was not expecting.
“So what are we to each other now?”
My body stiffened against his, I looked up at him to see him smiling at me expectantly. This was something I wasn’t ready to discuss.
“I don’t know…why are you asking? So that you know if it’s ok to sleep with other girls?”
He didn’t laugh, he just frowned at me. Me and my big mouth…
“Be right back, I need to get a glass of water.”
I couldn’t find my shirt in the mess on the floor so I grabbed his and threw it on. I decided to ignore his question; I really didn’t know what to say. What if we want different things and I end up looking like an idiot? I couldn’t risk it. I gulped down my water and poured myself another glass. Being with him was a work out… I’m not complaining though, it sure beats going to the gym. I realized I was taking a long time; I called out to him, asking if he needed anything, he said he was fine. I put the glass in the sink and walked back to the bedroom. I paused for a moment to look for my clothes on the cluttered floor.
“You look good in my shirt…”
I looked up to see him leaning on his elbow, smiling at me. I smiled back and crawled back into bed, playfully pulling the sheets off him. He spanked me and pulled me in for a kiss. And then we made love for the second time that morning.
Back In high school, there was this guy I had a major crush on. For over a year. And he liked me too, but for reasons I can’t quite explain, things never quite worked out between us. We went our separate ways and apart from a few encounters in some of my more steamy dreams, haven’t seen each other since.
But now we’re going to the same uni.
We just spent the night together.
He’s my weakness, I find him completely irresistible. And his sex? Don’t even get me started; my body has never experienced so much pleasure at any given time. After we were done, he held me close to him and we slept in each other’s arms. More like napped really, we kept waking up to do it again and again, our bodies were on fire and our appetites for each other insatiable.
“Baby, you awake?” I responded by playfully kissing his nose. Then he said the one thing I was not expecting.
“So what are we to each other now?”
My body stiffened against his, I looked up at him to see him smiling at me expectantly. This was something I wasn’t ready to discuss.
“I don’t know…why are you asking? So that you know if it’s ok to sleep with other girls?”
He didn’t laugh, he just frowned at me. Me and my big mouth…
“Be right back, I need to get a glass of water.”
I couldn’t find my shirt in the mess on the floor so I grabbed his and threw it on. I decided to ignore his question; I really didn’t know what to say. What if we want different things and I end up looking like an idiot? I couldn’t risk it. I gulped down my water and poured myself another glass. Being with him was a work out… I’m not complaining though, it sure beats going to the gym. I realized I was taking a long time; I called out to him, asking if he needed anything, he said he was fine. I put the glass in the sink and walked back to the bedroom. I paused for a moment to look for my clothes on the cluttered floor.
“You look good in my shirt…”
Friday, January 8, 2010
Conversations with my 13 year old self
I found my old diary today, the one I had when I was 13, halfway through high school, and very opinionated. I had a punk phase that I’m not quite out of; I do have my random Avril Lavigne – esque days. At 13 I was kind of a rebel, as most kids that age are, and I was very against all types of conformity. I knew I was pretty, but wasn’t the typical girly kind of pretty that the world takes notice of. I was the reserved girl, undiscovered in my cocoon of rocker t – shirts, heavy eye – shadow, pants that were always one size too big, and of course, the classic studded accessories. I would become a butterfly in my own time, being a tomboy was fun; I never had to worry about chipping a nail, running out of my favorite kind of lip gloss, or having my hair out of place.
And then a strange thing happened; I became popular, without my realizing it.
I stuck to my rocker girl image but that too began to change. My rocker tees were replaced by slightly more form fitting, lower cut tops, my baggy jeans were substituted for better – fitting jeans that showed off my assets, the spiky accessories too disappeared into the back of my closet. I grew my nails out and although for years I stuck to black nail polish, I eventually discovered that other colors don’t look half bad.
Years later, I’m still one of the popular girls; my vans and chucks rarely ever see the light of day while my super cute sandals are all worn out, the jeans that aren’t super skinny are only ever worn on my fat days, and my rocker tees are folded neatly in my drawer for those chilly days when I don’t want to expose my chest. Which, in a tropical country straddling the equator, is not that often. I went from never wearing skirts or dresses to loving ones that are not very generous with material… I’m sure my mum regrets pushing me to dress more girly now!
I’m a conformist. The one thing I never wanted to be.
I realize that at 13 I hadn’t factored everything in, it was only normal to want to be more feminine as I grew older, and I can’t wear my Vans with everything, but I still feel like some sort of a sell – out. Musically, I’m a rocker till I die. Looking at me, you probably wouldn’t think so, save for the dark eye – liner that I don’t think I’m about to give up anytime soon. My style is definitely edgier than my more girly friends, but it’s still quite reminiscent of the stereotypical popular chicks in those trite high school movies.
I miss expressing my identity through my clothes, and not caring what people would think. Apparently to show up in public dressed as 13 year old me would be what one of my friends calls “social suicide”. And I've gotten used to a certain standard of living, sudden unpopularity wouldn't be good for my health (seriously, it's been proven, popular kids are healthier! lol!) So I’m thinking more of rocker – chique as opposed to rocker – chic. Who says I can’t have my cake and eat it too? 13 year old me would be so proud…
And then a strange thing happened; I became popular, without my realizing it.
I stuck to my rocker girl image but that too began to change. My rocker tees were replaced by slightly more form fitting, lower cut tops, my baggy jeans were substituted for better – fitting jeans that showed off my assets, the spiky accessories too disappeared into the back of my closet. I grew my nails out and although for years I stuck to black nail polish, I eventually discovered that other colors don’t look half bad.
Years later, I’m still one of the popular girls; my vans and chucks rarely ever see the light of day while my super cute sandals are all worn out, the jeans that aren’t super skinny are only ever worn on my fat days, and my rocker tees are folded neatly in my drawer for those chilly days when I don’t want to expose my chest. Which, in a tropical country straddling the equator, is not that often. I went from never wearing skirts or dresses to loving ones that are not very generous with material… I’m sure my mum regrets pushing me to dress more girly now!
I’m a conformist. The one thing I never wanted to be.
I realize that at 13 I hadn’t factored everything in, it was only normal to want to be more feminine as I grew older, and I can’t wear my Vans with everything, but I still feel like some sort of a sell – out. Musically, I’m a rocker till I die. Looking at me, you probably wouldn’t think so, save for the dark eye – liner that I don’t think I’m about to give up anytime soon. My style is definitely edgier than my more girly friends, but it’s still quite reminiscent of the stereotypical popular chicks in those trite high school movies.
I miss expressing my identity through my clothes, and not caring what people would think. Apparently to show up in public dressed as 13 year old me would be what one of my friends calls “social suicide”. And I've gotten used to a certain standard of living, sudden unpopularity wouldn't be good for my health (seriously, it's been proven, popular kids are healthier! lol!) So I’m thinking more of rocker – chique as opposed to rocker – chic. Who says I can’t have my cake and eat it too? 13 year old me would be so proud…
Sunday, January 3, 2010
2009 in retrospect...
Last year I…
Started the year getting beat on by cops and random bystanders. Didn’t think I’d make it through the night.
Celebrated the one year anniversary of my dad’s death… on the wrong day… translation: they waited a day to tell me he was dead.
Drank countless tequilas, an equal number of black ices, about 150 beers, maybe another 120 assorted shots.
Smoked more than 150 packs of cigarettes.
Damn… that’s about 200,000 shillings!!!
Started dressing more girly… my dressing wasn’t butch or anything but I embraced my girly side a bit more.
Cut and dyed my hair. It may not sound like a big deal but I cherish every single strand on my head so it was for me. Haha!
Finally let go of my ex. He was my booty call for over a year.
Lost one of my closest friends… she didn’t die but she is dead to me…
Made more mistakes with men than I would’ve liked.
Finally got busted by my mum throwing a house party… this one was a long time coming, lol.
Went to a strip club for the first time only to find that the strippers had the night off… go figure!
Started playing the guitar, it’s true what they say, music is good for your soul
Had the best, and worst, sex of my life (so far).
Dislocated my ankle falling down a bunch of steps… in my defense, I was pushed! But blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol!!
Drank 21 shots on my birthday and was still standing!! Me remembering anything is another story! Lol!
Got into a really huge fight with another girl and discovered (from other people) that I fight like a man. Excuse me for thinking kicks and punches are the proper way to fight.
Those are just the ones I can think of off the top of my head. 2009 was a crazy year and not always in a good way. I’d like to believe I emerged stronger, and that all these experiences have made me wiser. If not, that was a hell of a ride!!! I’d totally do it again!! Well… most of it…
Happy New Year!!!
Started the year getting beat on by cops and random bystanders. Didn’t think I’d make it through the night.
Celebrated the one year anniversary of my dad’s death… on the wrong day… translation: they waited a day to tell me he was dead.
Drank countless tequilas, an equal number of black ices, about 150 beers, maybe another 120 assorted shots.
Smoked more than 150 packs of cigarettes.
Damn… that’s about 200,000 shillings!!!
Started dressing more girly… my dressing wasn’t butch or anything but I embraced my girly side a bit more.
Cut and dyed my hair. It may not sound like a big deal but I cherish every single strand on my head so it was for me. Haha!
Finally let go of my ex. He was my booty call for over a year.
Lost one of my closest friends… she didn’t die but she is dead to me…
Made more mistakes with men than I would’ve liked.
Finally got busted by my mum throwing a house party… this one was a long time coming, lol.
Went to a strip club for the first time only to find that the strippers had the night off… go figure!
Started playing the guitar, it’s true what they say, music is good for your soul
Had the best, and worst, sex of my life (so far).
Dislocated my ankle falling down a bunch of steps… in my defense, I was pushed! But blame it on the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol!!
Drank 21 shots on my birthday and was still standing!! Me remembering anything is another story! Lol!
Got into a really huge fight with another girl and discovered (from other people) that I fight like a man. Excuse me for thinking kicks and punches are the proper way to fight.
Those are just the ones I can think of off the top of my head. 2009 was a crazy year and not always in a good way. I’d like to believe I emerged stronger, and that all these experiences have made me wiser. If not, that was a hell of a ride!!! I’d totally do it again!! Well… most of it…
Happy New Year!!!
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