All the candles I own are cheap pieces of shit that smell great until you light them and realize they give off no smell at all. How the fuck am I supposed to freshen up the air of the putrefying kitchen while I clean?
It smells even worse once it smells like disinfectant. I could buy good quality fake gingerbread scent if I could stomach the flood of aromas bombarding anyone a block away from the local candle store.

I'm busy searching bats and rabies to see if bats really do carry rabies or if that is some myth I heard. I feel a sudden urge for knowledge after finding the dead and partially eaten bat on the porch that Angus brought me.

Speaking of which, Tim Wise wrote a good article on racism and sexism in the presidential race which included a quote from the rabid rodent-like James Carville on how Hillary has more balls than Obama. Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Carville, the fine gentleman who brought us "drag a hundred dollar bill through a trailer park, you never know what you'll find" and who compared Bill Richardson to Judas, and, after losing the 2004 election, spent time on the air talking about how to "Out-God" the right. Oddly enough he's married to a republican consultant. Although I'm a political junkie I will be more than happy to see and hear less of Carville.

That being said I watched Hillary talk about sexism as a possible reason why she is being urged to drop out of the race. Yuck, I have something in my mouth, oh yeah it's the sour after taste of more calculated disingenuous statements from the Clinton.

Okay, from what I understand Hillary used to go by Hillary Rodham, then Hillary Rodham Clinton, and then pretty much went to Hillary Clinton. I have little doubt that this was a part of assimilating into a female roll that was more comfortable for the general American public. After all, when Howard Dean ran for president there were plenty people ready to dissect his relationship with his Dr. wife who went by the last name of Steinberg and was never on the campaign trail. Lots of women love taking their husbands names and couldn't fathom why someone wouldn't. I have no doubt that Hillary had to undergo many small transformations to appear less of an independent, ambitious, feminist. And I tend to believe that if she could magically transform into a man she would have ran for president a long time ago without needing Bill.

Note that I said if she could magically transform into a man, rather than if she had been born a man. The truly messed up part of Geraldine Ferraro's comments about Obama being lucky to be a black man in the race is the fact that she ignored the huge role things like race and gender take in shaping us and our worldview. If Obama had been born a white male I tend to believe that there are things that he wouldn't have been as drawn to - we are talking about a civil rights attorney who organized poor communities and then joined a large liberal black church in Chicago. He also spent time in Kenya learning about a family that he didn't grow up around. Surely he wouldn't have made the same choices had he been born white. Similarly, Hillary simply wouldn't be the same person if she had been born a male.

Hillary's healthcare plan, along with her pant suits and many of her less than homemaker like statements challenged the publics expectations of the first lady. To some she was terrifying and to others, such as myself, she was inspiring.

So how did it all go so horribly wrong? How did Hillary become the candidate that makes me cringe?

Well, it started with hindsight. In hindsight I have concluded that Bill Clinton sucked as a president and the economy at the time is far more complicated than many Clinton supporters make it out to be. Clinton sucked at the drug war, he sucked and welfare reform, he sucked when it came to gay marriage, and he suuuuucked when he threw Monica Lewinsky to the lions, again and again. Bill's domestic policies is a reminder that a conservative politician's domestic policies are often far less threatening because they will end up stuck in partisan gridlock. The true nightmare is a democrat who is willing to sell out the most vulnerable members of his constituency, and can, because it's seen as working across the aisle. (which, by the way, is why I don't hate Nader because the only way to curb this is by having a viable progressive third party to threaten the democrats with.) Monica, the woman who was accused of being a liar, who was made the butt of many, many, many jokes - usually concerning her waistline - and who had been the topic of shows like one I saw where an ex boyfriend talked about her past fueling the notion that she had been lying in her conversations with Linda Tripp, "that woman" was only 22 years old at the time of her affair with Bill. She was an intern, in a position with not even a fraction of the power that any elected official had. And after using her in what sounds like the most dreadfully boring sexual affair I've ever heard of let her be ravaged by a pretty vicious storm of press.

That is post Gennifer Flowers, whose story is most decidedly antifeminist when she was given a job that should have gone to someone else. Even if I put sexual harassment charges and rape allegations aside those two incidents provide me enough reason to see Hillary's relationship with Bill being pretty antifeminist. Especially when she blames these events on right wing conspiracies.

But fast forward to this presidential election and ignore some of the dumbest things Bill has said while campaigning for Hillary and focus on Hillary's own words. Hillary has said this the campaign wasn't about gender just as Barack said the campaign isn't about race. Both statements are absurd but I understand why they've said it. I understand why Hillary fights so hard to come across hard as steel (trying to buck the stereotype of an emotionally soft woman who could never push the big red button even it was absolutely necessary) and I understand why Barack laughs off some of the most offensive shit (like "do you think Bill Clinton was America's first black president?") because it'd be very easy for him to be pegged as "the angry black man" if he didn't. In some ways it's dangerous to say that race and gender are irrelevant because the ability to even be able to point out racism and sexism is constantly under attack by people who use the phrase "politically correct" and think of racism and sexism as archaic relics of the past. On the other hand, it's politics, and many of us understand why they have to fake this weird transcendence of their gender and race in order to be taken seriously by many of those oblivious to their own privilege. Saying that race and gender aren't factors is a calculated political move.

But now that Hillary's bid for presidency is facing impossible math she's suddenly decided to claim sexism as another political move. If Hillary was at least being real about sexism I'd be less likely to be so pissed off about it, but the fact that she blames sexism on why she's being told to drop out is an absurdly shallow statement about sexism. It's also too painfully hilarious coming from the person whose campaign surrogates have done more than enough to spark racial animosity among voters.

Another disappointment to come from this election is the evidence that many second wave feminists are still as out of touch as they were prior to third wave warriors like bell hooks and others. Listening to these second wavers discuss how people of my generation must be taking their rights for granted, simply because we aren't voting in mass for Hillary is too much. While there are many women of my generation who think being antifeminist is somehow rebellious and rational and cool I can say the same about women of the second wave generation who didn't and still don't agree with Gloria, Betty, Andrea, or the mere existence of planned parenthood. Women who wear playboy bunny shirts or like getting lap dances at strip joints while their boyfriends watch and somehow feel hip? and like "the cool girlfriend" aren't new or cutting edge. They're stupid and following a long tradition of patriarchal assimilation you can see in the same pro glamorous housewife propaganda of the fifties. Similarly, hipsters that make these "ironic" jokes about race aren't smart or edgy, they're borrowing pages for the same long dumb history of white supremacy but they're all suffering from that annoying historical amnesia that leads people to think the world began the day they were born, possibly because of self absorption and historical ignorance.

But I digress.
Many young feminists have come to realize a multidimensional system of oppression where race, class, and gender can combine to create very different landscapes and very different people. We also live in a world where there are nations with women rulers in nations where women have less rights than they have in the United States. Although representing women in government is absolutely necessary in the fight for equality it is only one part of that fight. Another part is having a president who will honestly lead the fight and not sell out along the way. And from everything I've seen that is Barack Obama. Not selling out doesn't mean you can form coalitions with your opposites, it doesn't mean you can't talk to people with differing views - some more controversial than others - but it does mean that you have principles you don't sacrifice after talking to pundits, pollsters, lobbyists, and consultants. And that's not Hillary's strong point.

I'm so lazy. It's not that I sit around and do nothing, because that isn't the case. But I'm repetitive. get up, go to the same work everyday, do the same shit, come home and do the same shit, go to the same shows, etc. But this idea I have, like ideas I've had in the past, is new and requires far more effort to get started even though it's something I love as opposed to something like work which brings me money but absolutely no satisfaction or anything remotely beneficial to me in any way except for financially and even that is just crumbs.

So... it comes a time where I think, 1. Oh Boobs. 2. Where to start? 3. Let's begin.

It's funny when journalists attack bloggers and say that they aren't really journalists.

My city paper contains columns including one author responding to a battle creek columnist who called Jackson "lame" but saying he's jealous that Jackson is getting a Tim Horton's. The Jackson columnist explains to readers that this author's "hook" is to be grumpy, then he says Battle Creek and Jackson are about the same, and then he challenges the author to a doughnut eating contest because his hook is to be fat, or something.

yeah, bloggers are really lowering the standards....right.

it's so fucking hot. ick.

I am missing something.
I've been trying to figure out what.
I keep circling around home and choices and how many I have and how many I can make. I keep trying to fix something that doesn't need fixing. I'm ignoring what does. I have so much work to do, so many opportunities to create.

Sometimes a girl has to ask herself, just how many diary entries have I started with "oh my god" because oh my god.

So a couple days ago the boyfriend's place was recently empty after several JMAC people left. Taking advantage of the empty house we had sex, not just sex but a big fuckfest where he tried to surpass the limits of my cervix and impale me on his magnificently large penis. I was screaming my head off. After the screaming stops and my mouth is on his cock we hear the roommate upstairs and think he got off of work an hour early. Later, when we go up we find out that he didn't go to work and had been there, in his room, the entire time. Now, you can hear ANYTHING and EVERYTHING in that house pretty fucking clearly. He's heard us have pretty loud sex before but this was just obscene. Eh.

Today I saw my mother for the first time in a couple weeks. She pointed out the dark circles under my eyes and told me I looked horrible. Television in the bedroom is the devil, but then so is a vast online game that my boyfriend is currently addicted to. I, too, love the game but I don't like staying up until three a.m. not being able to sleep because he's playing. A part of us merging two lives together is me getting a room that is pretty much my own, a place for my computer, bookshelf, and a couch to crash on in case he's entertaining his people when I need to sleep. A PRIVATE AREA where I can change my clothes without worrying that some totally random person is going to come barging in. Virginia was right about a room of one's own.

Love is a funny little thing. It's complicated and I keep wondering if I'm doing it right or at least to the best of my ability. How does one balance the desire to want to curl up and hibernate with one person with the need to maintain a life that does not close two people off to the rest of the world/their world. Although I'm thinking more about my world since I've been pretty plunged into his. But it goes both ways. How does one get closer to someone than anyone else without suffocating them or creating that weird separation anxiety that seems to happen between some people.

Last week Robyn and I were out and about when we started looking at small appliances and marveling over the wonders of food dehydrators and blenders. Then we remembered that when we were teenagers we would have thought that was stupid and then we both cringed as we confronted our aging, settling down selves. Yikes.

So, I spend time around a lot of men. It's draining. I'm not good with that and miss the company of women all the time. The highlight of the Chicago trip, for me, was being around a woman and not a woman that can only be friends with men and desperately seeks approval through the male gaze because that just doesn't cut it. It wasn't until then that I realized how much I need my girl friends. They're like energy drinks but without the weird aftertaste. Speaking of which, I need to call Jen....

Having a good relationship is weird. I keep expecting to wake up one day and have it be bad because that would make sense, that would be familiar, that would be more consistent with the narrative I've constructed for my personal life. But now it's good and normal and all these things that it once seemed impossible. and it always feels like I'm waking up in someone else's life. Someone who knows how to have functional relationships and reciprocal love. I am trying to get used to it being mine.

He sees his mom this Thursday and is "excited" to hear what she thinks about me. I figure that she can't think anything good when you consider how awkward our meeting was since she walked in on me changing and since I wasn't really friendly or outgoing and I kind of stayed in the background all shy like. Plus I was feeling crappy, I was just getting over the side effects of the ortho which had me wrapped up in blankets having the chills.. and then my ass was so sore so while they were working on the bathroom (it's a small bathroom so it's not like I could have really helped either way) I laid on the couch and watched movies. I felt awful but it's not like I could apologize and say "Sorry I'm not more outgoing but your son tore open my ass with his gigantic penis and sitting, bending, and just about everything other than laying down makes it hurt even more." um, no. And, at the time, I wasn't sure that's what was wrong with it so I was having some serious emo drama playing out in my head the entire time his mother was around. So it's not as if she's going to be like "I like that kait because she lays on the couch while we work, is horribly uptight, and seems shy and nervous. What a winner!" And I was uptight because when you injure your ass like this it really is like walking with a stick up it.

my ass still feels as if it was rimmed by razor blades but it is improving. what a shitty sex injury. someone told me I was walking like my feet hurt and I had to refrain from saying I was walking like my ass hurts! shit.

All right, today I'm going to buy a wool coat from Nordstrom's.

went to bed at about eight a.m. and then was woken at about ten a.m. to the sound of one of my favorite local musicians, Ronnie Ferguson, pounding on the door of where I was.. and then the basement windows right above where I was sleeping. And pounding. And pounding. Then I went back to sleep and was woken up by my phone call then another phone call etc. etc. Not having a charger I thought it would have died but I guess it was a Christmas miracle that it found enough juice to be obnoxious.

SO, what am I doing for new years eve?

NOTHING!

and I refused several invites to reserve myself for such a date of hot, sexy, glorious nothingness.

wait, I might watch The Weatherman but will most likely fall asleep to it.

I haven't slept in my own bed since the night before Christmas eve. I'm running on a huge sleep deficit. I'm bruised in odd places and my ass feels like the lincoln tunnel.

gotta recharge.

but other than that I am extremely happy. a nervous weirdo that alternates between quiet and shy to super spaz. but, still, happy.

Happy New Years. May this year be better than the last....and I think it will.

"use your natural versatility to keep from being bored."

if I can figure out how to do that it'd be great advice.

So far I'm not sure how to synthesize the last few days. I'm not entirely sure what to think of it myself.

gnawing on this piece of orbit gum, contemplating whether or not to try and play buffy: chaos bleeds for playstation 2 to relax myself. Can't think of things to do other than lay in bed in a pair of jeans that, while I can get over my flat ass, I can't zip. Soon, jeans, we will meet again and when we do you will fit perfectly, once again. Had a horrible fear inducing dream about what might happen tomorrow but everyone in it felt so apathetic, everyone but me, which I guess is what made it so frightening.

Tomorrow at approximately 10:15 in the morning I will be doing the one thing I have wanted to do for almost a year but have not had the guts to do. My heart already feels like it's going to come ripping through my chest, and I'll probably get so nervous and feel like I'm going to puke or faint and shaking is possible, not to mention stammering. All of these symptoms are not unlike what I felt the first time I rode the giant escalator down to the subway. But this is way more important and the fear of it is suffocating me. I can't enter a new year without overcoming it. So I'm making it happen whether or not other factors are cooperating. And I don't care about the outcome and quite possible injury, I'm just going to do it and get it done with and then never have to be afraid of it again. I'm Kaitlin Lorraine Osborne Browne and I'm not going to be afraid of anything or anyone anymore and in about twelve hours I'm throwing down the gauntlet.

ps: you're next my dear erica rettig. And happy holidays in the meantime.

can't sleep. I've been laying in bed, totally exhausted, and I keep laughing at this absurd lie that I'm thinking of making up in order to break the ice when I do something that will be completely nerve wracking for me. And of course it's one of those lies that people will know is a lie within two minutes because really, why would I be selling milk, or buying topsoil, buying raptor bones for twenty dollars a pop from a house in the city of Jackson. Yeah.. not very likely.

so then I called lynn even though it was almost five in the morning and I'm sure she's asleep. It was very impulsive. Then I mentioned how I wanted to try and hook her up with someone, which is true, but sweet christ have I lost my mind. She's probably working on Christmas eve anyway. It'd be nice if she wasn't, though, she'd have a calming effect on me. hmmm.

I think I'm going to do something on Christmas eve that just seems like a bad and scary idea where I am predicting that I totally fall on my face. But if I do at least I'll get some more practice in learning how to get up, and then I can move on and not feel like I have this certain desire on permanent pause. I have to stop hitting the pause button in life and just.. jump.

In other news my pseudo arch enemies that I want to infiltrate are hiring.

Christmas plans are getting all fucked up.

My parents would really like me to join them on a five hour drive to my sister's place in Illinois. But, I have plans and then potential plans. And the day after Lynn and I have been eagerly planning POST CHRISTMAS SALE SHOPPING. And I'm in desperate need of new shoes. But some of these plans aren't for sure so it's very annoying when being asked for an answer. And it's also very odd when my mother calls me again and again and again to propose this and use, as bait?, "you'll get to see him open his presents." And by "him" she means my one and a half year old nephew. Now, I love my nephew and he's definitely and enjoyable kid, but...I'm 23 years old and I have the exact opposite of baby fever. I'm not particularly interested in watching kids open presents and make loud noises and beep horns and flash lights on mickey mouse trucks. I WANT TO HANG OUT WITH FRIENDS and even though I don't drink anymore I still want to accompany some people to the bar on Christmas Eve. I was looking forward to that but then I'm put in this annoying position where my mother is urging me to go because if I don't then they won't go. I mean, there are a number of people I could spend Christmas with, I suppose. Including my FATHER and brothers. So whyyyyy in the hell do I have to deal with the pressure. And then, if I don't go, my sister will be pissed off and will call me and call me and call me. And if I do go I'll probably end up really annoyed and completely trapped in that apartment. And I'll be mostly annoyed because my sister and mother are nightmares when they are together. And then I will spend Christmas being told how I should wear my hair, what color I should dye it because GOD FORBID I HAVE MY NATURAL HAIR COLOR, and what clothing I should wear, and how I should go to ISU, and blahdeeblahblahblah.

And "think about it" never means "think about it" it means "I don't like your original answer so please come around to my way of thinking before this invite turns into a guilt trip."

This wondrous time of the year just took a horrible wrong turn.

So I received a myspace message from this artist I've been wanting to do a feature on but I've been putting it off because I wanted it to be done by someone who actually knows about art and knows what kinds of questions to ask, etc. Anyway the message said to send him an IM because he's on myspace IM now. But I'm not sure if that's a mass message that you have the option of sending when you download it or if he really sent that to me.. sooo I guess I'll download it and see. It's so weird because I was just thinking about how I have to get on that.

Anyway, I had dinner with my dad, step mother, and brothers today. We went to the Chelsea Grill (not Common Grill in Chelsea) which was waaaay better than the common grill and even had veggie burgers. A plus all around. I learned that my dad is on the board for Metrotime's music awards. (you'd think that he'd be able to hook me up with some music reviews or someone who can write them for the 'zine, right?) Anyway, it was actually really cool and as we were talking about my Aunt Melissa's two and a half year old (Thomas) being afraid of everything, not getting any shots because my Aunt is afraid he'll end up autistic, and how she's going to home school him because she's afraid other kids will hurt him? (let me just say I totally support home schooling for certain reasons but I support it along with socialization where as my Aunt keeps that kid terrified of EVERYONE other than her, his dad, and my paternal grandmother). Evan said it reminded him of the boy in the spelling bee who walked like he was afraid of everything and then passed out when he couldn't spell a word. Ooooh and the impression he did had me dying with laughter. He really likes Canada and on the fifth or sixth he'll be in Toronto for a tournament. He was player of the game once but the team lost and he was angry so he refused to be interviewed or accept the t-shirt the player of the games usually get from the disc jockey that interviews them.

And, for Christmas, my dad gave me money, this movie "Leonard Cohen: I'm Your Man" (Secretary fans may remember that song), and this homemade cd of Ragnar Kvaran the guy my dad was in a band with for years who I have a vague older man crush on. Not a real crush, but he's sexy in the way that V from V for Vendetta or the way the Phantom in the Phantom of the Opera is sexy. I mean, he's not deformed underneath a mask, he just has that...whatever that thing is that those others have. Something. It's definitely something. At least to me..

Anyway, I now present the horror:

muffler and pipe work - $467.00
brake padding - ?
power steering fluid leak - ?
new battery - not exactly sure but probably fifty or sixty dollars?

um, yeah.

soooo, hopefully my little car that could will be running like the mighty overseas car that it is after Christmas. Probably not until after New Years, though.

aksghaksghksaghaskghaskghagksahgkasg

that's frustration up there.

I wish I lived in a big city with a subway.
I even considered permanent residence with lynn since she lives pretty much downtown and that'd be so nice but as long as she associates with that fucking amanda I couldn't do that without risking becoming homicidal. Or suicidal but with my luck I'd probably fuck it up and amanda would spend long days with me because she'd finally have a vegetable that would give her just what she wants, FULL ATTENTION AT ALL TIMES. She's the most possessive, rude, compulsive lying assface that I've ever known. She's SO possessive, of EVERYONE she gets close to. I mean, wedging herself between me and Lynn, the things she said to the guy Lynn slept with, the lies she made up about the guy Lynn really had feelings for, leaving those notes on Lynn's car after tracking her down at said guy's apartment, answering her phone, taking numbers off of her phone like MY NUMBER. No, I'd definitely be homicidal. And that can only end badly even though I'd be doing countless people a favor.

And she probably wouldn't even die, she'd be like Rasputin. You just can't get rid of her!

Well, I need new clothes but I'd have more clothes if I lost one delightful size. So that's what I'm going to do because fuuuuuck new clothes. I like having hips I just want them smaller. So I'm cutting the crap with the healthy eating and "portion control" of the bad things and going for a hardcore diet. I know people warn against that stuff but I'm hardcore, I'm one of those people that can really devote myself to something if it is just that hardline. So no processed foods, no refined sugar, NO white bread, switching my oatmeal to whole grain with barley and all that shit, and I'm trying to avoid artificial sweeteners as well. Although I'm still going to drink diet caffeine free pepsi but I'm trying to phase it out because of the acid and the potential problem with calcium that can cause and then the eventual osteoporosis. I figure if I get used to eating things that aren't sweet I won't crave it as much and can get used to eating horrible tasting things.. like tonight I had a redskin potato with nothing on it. I hate potatoes, but I'm going to try to teach myself to like stuff. Like I have this soup from trader joe's where you can reaaaaally taste the potato. Now, normally, I'd throw it out and waste money and what is a pretty healthy soup. But now I'm teaching myself to like it and eat it no matter how bleeeeh it is.

Also, going to alternate between strength and flexibility training with the regular cardio. And I'd like to improve my balance for no particular reason other than it'd be cool.

And I'm going to read more.

Basically, I want to do a lot of things I should do or haven't done and stop being afraid of doing certain things, and get my mind off of a lot of other things.. learn how to take more chances and deal with the consequences even if they're negative.

My step mother and my father brought up U of M once again and mentioned how I could submit my samples to the dept. head and someone else and until now I've been blowing them off thinking I would settle for state and just not try U of M. But.. I decided that it wouldn't hurt to try and that I should stop being afraid of trying because there's really nothing to lose. So, I suppose I will.

I'll never understand the quiet types who feel something but won't express it. Or who can only express when they're angry or upset but not when they're happy or in love. I'm so not like that. When I love something I make sure everyone and anyone knows. It's not that I go around loving people or things so frequently, it's just that when it happens I pour my heart out to the person or pour it into something. I fall in love and it seems to not die. I mean, like Buffy, which is just a show, but how many years has it been off the air? How frequently do I watch the same episodes again and again? I watch that show like EVERY WEEK. I'm not obsessed or a big fan geek, I've never been to conventions or something, I just find something and when I love it I don't let it go and the love never fades. This can be said of Buffy, politics, and certain people. I like to think of myself as..."true." But then, this paragraph isn't really about Buffy, it's about something I was told last night. Just seemed so strange.. so.. off. So impossible for me to even conceive of. To think that someone would be afraid of me breaking their heart after I had given mine? That's madness. But, I guess no one can peer inside of you like a window. I wish people would learn that and start expressing affection rather than keeping it in or thinking others are telepathic.

Downloading the David Ford song "I don't care what you call me." It was in a CMJ cd I listened to and was so very good..but sad.

I don't care what you call me because it won't hurt anymore.

I love this time of the year, even though I've cried more this week than I can remember crying in a loooong time.

I don't understand why when some people are frustrated with others and things in general they take it out on the people that they're closest to and that support them. It's like losing a football game and blaming the cheerleaders.

gonna have to cut this.

( Read more... )

uncertainness and insecurity are such fertile ground for the seeds of doubt.
there's nothing wrong with being insecure, it's not necessarily a reflection of your confidence or self esteem, it can be a reflection of reality, and of someone else's character that you're having a hard time trusting.

I do trust the hateful ex punk but the past week was certainly sprouting the doubt. Of course, I've had this long running fear that I'd end up like his former fuck buddy/friend who was once his girlfriend. Low self-esteem, bad body image, and afraid of dying alone.. although I'm usually the exact opposite of that. Anyway, I had learned of a couple things he did to her while fucking her, and I'm definitely not a fan of said actions. Not that he is either..and it's been eating away at my brain.

And there's more. And it has made me really insecure in some ways. All I can say is that after evaluating his actions, his feelings for me, my actions, my feelings for him, my behavior, etc. etc. I decided that I am going to tryyyyyyy to take a step back, not resort to my very knee jerk reactions (which is to push someone away and run), and try to be more calm, more patient, and provide a certain amount of space and not constantly do the emotional high maintenance things I do. I've decided that these are things I should learn regardless of how things turn out with the HEP. Sooooo, I'm going to try to do that. And if it does fail at least I can say I got something out of it. Right? Riiiight.

The two biggest thing to do in Jackson is to drink and fuck your brains out because nobody wants them anymore.

For Christmas I would like,
an HPV test for the hateful ex punk
another round of sti screening for him since his first one came before having been sex-relations free for six months.

HPV tests are hard to get but erica gave me hope that some doctors in the world will actually do it. What's up with that anyway? It's the same with herpes. No wonder they're such rapidly growing diseases.

HPV is especially important since if things progress I don't want to end up with cervical cancer that I could possibly prevent. And living life without medical insurance makes an expensive new vaccine to HPV's most heinous strains a little more than a financial burden, especially when factored in with the car, the computer, and everything else needing fixing and funding. I spend more money on the zine then I spend on anything else.

sigh. thinking about going to church tomorrow. I lost the minister's cell phone number and need to talk to him. I could probably just get it from my step-father, but then I'd miss the hard pews and falling asleep during hymns. And then I have to buy boxes and wrapping paper.

I once bought this somewhat expensive silver (definitely expensive for silver) necklace that I was in love with, back when I used to be in love with jewelry, and now I'm giving it to the hateful ex punk for his daughter. She's about to turn twelve and it seems like I liked jewelry when I was twelve. Maybe it's a horrible gift. Maybe it's a horrible gender specific gift. Oh god. or maybe it will be okay. It's very pretty. And it has her birth stone in it. Oh, god, I don't know what kids like these days. Drugs? Condoms? Clothes made in sweatshops and sold in racist, sexist stores like Abercrombie and Fitch? What a world.

If, say, the one in a billion odds happen, and I ever do have a child I want hir to be very sheltered and raised in a bio-dome. Yeah, I know people's first reactions are to say something like you'd be raising spineless jellyfish who will fall down when knocked over with a feather in the real world but I don't think that's true at all. And by sheltered I don't mean spoiled or pampered or ignorant. I mean that if I had a kid I'd want them kept away from all that crap they indoctrinate kids with in school and tv (capitalism, racism, sexism, etc.) and teach them a curriculum that includes traditionally excluded voices and actually integrates them so they're no longer "the other" or "marginalized." And from everything I've read kids do better after high school if their adolescence isn't full of degrading messages that assault their various identities. And there's a very good chance that any child I have will be white so that's another thing they'll need to learn about that the world just doesn't want them to know about (privilege and the like).

I bought the hateful ex punk's roommate some things, but I really don't know what he likes other than vespas and his future hand gun.. um.. so I just bought him food items, Christmas chocolate, blahblah. I hope people get that guy some presents. I can't imagine not having no family to go to on Christmas. Actually, I need to find my unopened roaster pan. Yeah, it's totally re-gifting, but who cares.. my parents bought it for me years ago and I never opened it.. and now that I'm vegetarian I doubt that I'll ever be roasting anything that would go in something that's designed to hold a turkey.. (fyi, he doesn't have a roasting pan, when they made turkey they bought the disposable tin things at the store. And he likes meat.) Yes, that is a good idea. I would normally try to stay away from re-gifting but the money well has ran dry this week.

Oh yeah, I totally kicked skee ball ass at pinball pete's. Someday I will be the best, oh yes, the very best.

I love my best michigan friend but I can't stand her friends. They make my brain bleed and then after one touches all the tester eye shadows in the body shop and wipes her hands on my face as I'm standing in line before I have to go be work-presentable. what the fuck, are you fifteen?
so much more shit so little time to record the behavior of an immature, spoiled, possessive, attention hungry, burping creep from planet...well, creep.

I am not in the best of moods, so I thought I'd share something that makes me laugh, as I am trying to laugh:



Thanks Ian!

The hateful ex punk is going to Chicago Dec. 28th and would like to stay through New Years. He's making noise about me going with him. And I love the idea and then ache a little because I really don't think it's going to happen and there are several reasons. Although, one, and probably the only one I should listen to, is that my sister is coming to down from Christmas to New Years and my family Christmas will be around this period of time, probably after the 28th. It's pretty much my favorite time of the year and family Christmas is one reason why. And by family Christmas I mean the whole extended thing on the Osborne side. So, there's that, plus my brother will be in town and I should see him. Also, my grandmother is convinced that this is the last winter she's going to be alive. She was pretty upset about my asshole uncle not showing up to Thanksgiving because of his little feud with the Aunt who was throwing it. Not that I care, of course, because he's what we call A DOWNER. And I'd like to think she's crazy and is going to live forever but she's old and she's not going to and I don't want to upset her. Of course, no date has been set for that yet.

Also, the train wreck that is Miss. "I Need Implants, Don't I? Touch My Boobs!" called me (someone she doesn't even know) a "hoebag." Fascinating and hilarious.

My very first ring tone is Paul Simon's "You Can Call Me Al." I like it when my phone rings just so I can listen to it. I especially like it when I'm in public because it's just that fun.

ass exercises,
the bane of my existence!