I Am Beginning To Feel Like an Anomoly

One of my friends was bitching about how his gross ass former roommate used to inflict unsolicited stories of his sexual conquests upon him. It was actually one of the reasons he moved out of that house....not only was roomie batshit insane, but it was just difficult to stomach all the gross places that man's dick had been.

Said friend of mine is apparently blind to the irony of it as he loads me up with unwanted details of his own sexual past.

You fucked a ballerina? Yay for you, I guess.

Your ex girlfriend used to fart uncontrollably when she orgasmed? Golly, that's interesting.

I've never cheated on anyone. Most of my friends have stories of being cheated on, being cheated with, or cheating. I've been cheated on. My ex husband had a thing for very young girls. Another one was just a creep in general - I found literally YEARS worth of cringy, neckbeardy, and frankly pathetic things he'd attempted over the course of our relationship, and his excuse? "That's just what unhappy people do."

No, sir. No. that's not what unhappy people do. That's just what YOU do. You, and every other loser you claim to hate, but only because they're better at it than you.

Relationships are kind of gross. Your boyfriend has a whole spank bank of women who are younger, hotter, skinner than you are. He hasn't given you an orgasm in months or years, and his idea of romance is bending you over the bed for a whopping 4 minutes without any kisses, touches, foreplay. And then he gets mad because you never wanna dO iT. 

Casual sex is even more gross. Like, I don't see anything wrong with it, if that's what you're into, but I prefer fucking people who at least like me as a human being. Plus, you know, those assholes are even less likely to bother trying to seduce you or anything. They've watched too much porn, where some blonde with fake boobs will happily get plowed in uncomfortable positions by multiple dicks while getting spit on and occasionally choked...unlike you, you fucking pruuuuude. Why can't you just be a cum sock and stfu already?

My single girlfriends complain about their dildos and stuff...like yeah, okay, you get to orgasm, but there's no passion, no fire. Meanwhile, my married friends  get none of that as well, but also don't even get the orgasm.  At least when you're fucking a rando, you get the thrill of not knowing if he's gonna murder you directly after. You get the suspense of not knowing if he's going to be another dud in a long line of disappointments. You get the excitement of maybe this won't be as horrible as every other time.

Pieces of Lyrics

A massive FUCK YOU is hiding somewhere in the back of my head, and I wanna expose every single dark, nasty, gross thing to the light, and watch the ones these things belong to disintegrate into ash.

Except I don't want to be that person today. There are other things that are already light, but caught in the shadows of the muck in my head. 

There are certain lyrics that just stand out when I'm feeling icky, reminding me that other people have yucky thoughts and turn them into beautiful things. It doesn't have to be self destructive. I'm not a time bomb.

They almost make sense, when strung together. To me, anyway, but I know what I'm feeling when I hear them in my head so maybe it's just a hot mess to anyone else.

Just like Heaven.
Show me yours and I'll show you mine.
I'm not expecting to grow flowers in a desert
But you came over me, like some holy rite.

That's when we fell in love, but not the first time

Dress to suppress all kinds of sorrow.
Gain again what they want to steal
Wheel to the storm and fly.
I sing the songs that you hear on the breeze
But if the silence takes you, then I hope it takes me, too.
I am ready to follow you even though I don't know where.
I have stood here before, inside the pouring rain
These will just be places to me now.
Pins and needles
As the hours pass
How am I the lucky one?
Love's an excuse to get hurt.
Like a good book, I can't put this day back

And maybe you can keep me from ever being happy, but you're not gonna stop me from having fun.

Man Hating Spite Selfies & More

Okay.

So.

I was putting together a photo album from what's left of about 6 sudden uprootings, over the span of...I guess 4 years? I lost newborn photos, birth announcements, sonograms, etc, but I managed to hold onto a shoebox full of photos from the mid 2000s, amid all the chaos. I noticed that I'm not really in any of them. Everyone else is, but I'm legit forgotten about. I'm so glad smartphones and selfies are a thing now and I'm no longer just the legendary GhostMom whose presence can only ever be assumed, never confirmed. Apparently, this is a thing that is fairly common for moms. We tend to be the ones taking the photos of the kids, the cute moments, the holidays, the relatives, and we end up becoming background noise.

Anywhom, I was vaguely complaining about this lack of care yesterday (sausages were involved...don't ask) and I mentioned in passing how mothers get the short end of the family photo stick when suddenly...

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I'm told that this is just another opportunity for me to bitch about men, which apparently, I LOOOOVE to do.

As a side note, did you know that, as long as you LOL and announce that you're just kidding, anything you say or do MUST be recognized as drop dead hilarious by the offended party, or else it's proof that he/she is a monster who cannot take a harmless joke? It's the cousin of the "I'm not racist, but..." disclaimer, as well as the "...some of my best friends are gay!" clause. 

And, well....

I guess it's sorta true. I do love bitching about shitty people. I have a great dislike for "not like other girls" people. You know, that one girl, the only girl in the whole entire fucking world, who plays video games. Or watches sports. Or reads. Or hates the color pink. Or enjoys some "nerdy" hobby. Or hates shopping. I'm sure you've met her. She's a unique and precious gem in a world filled with vapid, superficial, materialistic women. Pick her!

It's also true that I loathe cheaters. Especially the kind who  make it seem like forgiveness and reconciliation is something owed rather than earned. "I know you found my dating profile, baaaabe, but jeez! It's already been 2 weeks, time to get over it already!" You can really sense their deep and profound remorse at having been caught for the 12th time. This time, it's different. This time, they mean it. 

I suppose it's true that I bitch about men a lot here - but in all fairness, no woman has ever sent me a dick pic with the expectation that  I would be an instant and easy bang, and then call me a slut when passed on this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. No woman has ever demanded I leave the hospital just after giving birth so that their drunk buds could come and spill beer all over my carpet, blast the TV until 6am  while I sob in bed, in pain, with a brand new baby, because how dare I interrupt their weekend plans. No woman has ever left bruises on me, repeatedly, or sprayed bleach in my eyes. As soon as one does, I'll let y'all know.

Ahh but, you know how I am. I just enjoy bitching for no reason. None whatsoever. 

But you know what actually is kinda funny, though? When someone somehow relates to the asshole in your story, and it mirrors exactly who they are. They'll do anything to shift the focus off of the reflection.

Like that "not like other girls" girl. You're just jealous that she's so interesting and all the boys love and respect her so so soooo much. You're just like other girls. Haters gonna hate.

Or that dude who looks like a doting father, because his baby mama made sure to take lots of pictures of him with the kids when he wasn't acting like they were the worst mistake of his life. Clearly, you just hate men and this is the only reason why anyone would even bother to bring it up.

Or that cheater who became trustworthy overnight, through no effort of his/her own. Obviously you just don't understand the power of love, where they can go and fuck someone else and it's okay because they were battling personal demons and totally not the consequences of their own actions. No no no, truly, theirs is a love story of fairy tale proportions.

But bitching is an art, and I like to think I'm getting fairly talented with it. Yesterday, it was lack of thoughtfulness when it comes to making sure your child's mother is represented in the family album. Tomorrow, who knows?

Point is, I'm glad selfies exist. I know  a lot of people see it as vanity, but I take a lot of comfort in knowing that if nothing else, I can at least rely on myself to get a couple of decent photos with...my high schooler on graduation day. Christmas morning around the tree. Anniversaries. You know, dumb things.

An Apprecation Post

I was going to come here and gripe about my male friends again, but I got to thinking about it, and I've changed my mind. 

Instead, I want to take a moment to praise one of my best friends in the whole wild world for treating me like an actual friend, and not as an opportunity to get laid.

Not once, in the history of our friendship, has he sent me a dick pic.

I enjoy how we can make totally inappropriate jokes with each other and he doesn't interpret it as an invitation to make EVERYTHING inappropriate.

I like how we can talk about sex and sex related things without it actually getting sexual because we're real life adults, with real life issues, and sometimes we just need to talk about things. If my boobs hurt, I can say that without it turning into a conversation about my boobs. He's not squeamish and uncomfortable when I mention my period. 

I also love the way he's interested in me as a human being, and not just a walking, talking coochie. We share music. We talk politics. I think I know more about his ex girlfriends and schooling and housing and work and friends than I probably should, but I'm here for it when he needs to vent because I love him and that's what friends do and I know he'd do the same for me because he has before.

He's not here pretending to be interested in my thoughts and feelings and little problems and big problems just because he thinks feigning interest is going to get him laid. This mother fucker actually seems to enjoy talking to me and hearing what I have to say and holy fucking shit, that is refreshing. 

Things aren't perfect between us. We bicker, we fight. He's got a very reactive personality type and when he's in that zone, he can be downright insulting and nasty. I've cried over him more than once, full blown, snot faced, choking sob crying, and I've had to block him when he's at his worst because I'm that sketchy ass fight-or-flight bitch.

But I miss him when he's gone. We're both really fucked up people with a lot of fucked up history, and the fact that I have boobs isn't even on the radar. 

The connection we have is so much deeper than anything I've ever had with a guy outside of a relationship before.

I plan on keeping him forever.

Everyone Sucks, Except Me

No shit, I feel that way sometimes, and I dare even one single asshole on this planet to tell me they've never ever felt that way before, because I'm riding my moral high horse and I want to tell them they're lying. 

But if I'm being honest, it's just because I'm being super insecure right now, thinking and thinking and thinking and thinking and thinking and thinking until whatever it was I was originally overthinking turns into this evil, dark, nasty version of its former self. In my head, what started as a pretty innocuous thing has now become something better left for some ultra villain from a True Crime podcast. You know, something so ridiculous and over the top, there's no way it could possibly ever happen in real life....

Except True Crime podcasts DO exist, and not only do they exist, but there are like 54910335876 of them with varying degrees of horrific content, sooooooo, you knooooow…

I'm being dramatic. I'm not thinking about serial killing or anything even remotely close to it, more like questioning people's intentions. Like when you'd go out on a date and you'd have to figure out whether the person sitting across from you actually likes you and enjoys the senseless babble pouring out of your mouth, or if they're just barely tolerating it in the hopes of getting laid in an hour so they can call you CrAzY 2 days later when you try to call.

And in my head, that's pretty villainous and makes me a morally superior human being, because you totally suck for that.

Maybe in someone else's head, I am the villain for using too many metaphors and similes instead of just saying what I mean.  

Tarot Tuesday: Bonus For Actually Doing It On a Tuesday

Gaaaah it's been a tek since I've posted anything related to tarot, but I got a snazzy new deck that can't wait to show off its mad divination skills, so I must oblige.

Jingle, jangle

Thoughts untangle

See things from another angle.

I haven't done that ^ in a while either. Maybe I'm coming up.

Anyway, this is tonight's pull.

Three card with a clarifier, and tonight's question was basically "What  the fuck is this shit?"

I'm not completely sure, but I think this is slow growth.

Our lineup is the King of Curses (cups), The Moon, the Queen of Cults (pentacles) aaaaaand the Two of Curses thrown on top of her because I was feeling like this was the most halfassed answer ever.

I didn't read this as a past, present, future, as is traditional with three card pulls. Instead, I feel the King and Queen are actual people - he wears his heart on his sleeve, she's the domestic goddess.

The moon here represents a blockage, and highlights some of the not-so-pleasant aspects of these cards. Maybe he's a bit too emotional, or maybe his heart is still raw from old wounds. Meanwhile, she's got her own baggage. She might be a bit possessive, or afraid of letting go of what's known and comfortable in order to embrace the unknown and unpredictable.

So yeah, the moon is a blockage, a hurdle, but the thing about the moon is, this is just a phase. This isn't a bad reading, as these aspects of this King and Queen are behaviors or thoughts they've learned from past experiences and have served them up until this point. Perhaps he needed to learn how to not fall in love at first sight, and she needed to understand the importance of providing for herself.

The clarifying Two shows that they can work through this mess together, and that's kind of adorable.

Maybe they'll help each other move into the next phase, where they learn how to let go of the things that no longer fit who they are.

awwww. 

New Year, New Standards

Ohai, it's me, here at the back half of March, comin' atcha with some New Year Resolutions. Better late than never, I suppose. 

It was recently pointed out to me, rather inadvertently, that the reason I know so many horrible people is because I have no real expectations of these people.

Allow me to clarify.

I have a kink for underdogs. The loners, the losers, the tragically misunderstood. The girl who's not like other girls. The guy who's actually a really great guy, once you get to know him. The drug addicts and alcoholics who have beautiful souls, somewhere deep down. Waaaaay deep down. It's in there somewhere, I swear.

oozing with empathy

I guess in some dumbshit ass kinda way, this has always been my way of making up for all the vulnerability and abandonment I felt. I don't want other people to go through all the yucky things alone. I'm a fan-fucking-tastic cheerleader, and some people need it more than others. Plus, even though I didn't understand it 20 years ago, I guess I get my rocks off on feeling needed and necessary. Who doesn't? Everyone wants to feel wanted, but when you're used to feeling so completely and utterly unwanted, I suppose you start scraping the bottom of the barrel. Like, okay, I know the superrich supermodel who owns a private jet and a private island probably has nothing to gain from me being, ya know, alive and shit, sooooo skip! 

And what about that reasonably adjusted human over there? The one who grew up with caring parents and finished high school with no juvenile record and got a summer job at their dad's landscaping business before completing some office management degree at community college and now works in Human Resources or Realty but enjoys catching a baseball game on the weekends?

Pfft. Normie. Skiiiiip!

That's not me being snobby. Can trailer trash even be stuck up? I mean, I know I'm better than everyone else, but still. No, you see, I was doing these people a favor by not allowing them to become hopelessly ensnared by the web of drama that is my life. There's no way some middle class fancypants could understand peeing through a hole in the floor, or the nightmares you still have of your mother's blood soaking into the ground while her crotch goblins screamed for the beating to stop. I don't think they'd understand the earth shattering sorrow that was putting back a pack of super rare oreos on a grocery store shelf  because the money you thought was there was just taken by a shrieking, high uncle very publicly who'd followed the fam to the grocery store and everything went sideways after that. Getting left with strangers who beat or molested you, or both, if you were really lucky. 

And no, that isn't self pity. I'm more or less beyond feeling sorry for myself and more in a state of "eh, that happened," so it's all good. But you see my problem now, yes? Most therapists aren't equipped to deal with real trauma (probably because they're the reasonably adjusted humans mentioned earlier) so it'd be rather selfish of me to inflict myself on people whose biggest tragedies in life were getting dumped right before the big Homecoming dance or politics being discussed at Thanksgiving dinner.

But I suppose that was a little narrow minded of me. Having money doesn't make you immune to abuse or neglect, but I always imagined it might be a little bit easier to deal with if you weren't also dealing with hunger and peeing in holes and shared bathwater and too tight shoes.

I'm rambling. How do I get back to the point? I guess my point is, no one swooped in to rescue me, so I kinda saw myself as the stupor-hero with the fucked up backstory who could do the swooping and rescuing. 

What's that? You just spent all your rent money on meth and now you're going to be homeless in 3 days due to the consequences of your bad decisions? Never fear! S********'s here to save you from yourself by pawning her kidney and watching you spend all THAT money on...more meth! No need to thank me (please thank me), I'll just be over here, crying in the corner of the kitchen alooooooone if you need the other kidney!

So anyway, standards. What a weird word. I used to think of standards as shit like "I wanna marry a rich man who drives a porsche" or "I only date men with washboard abs" and other superficial junk. How fucking bonkers is it that real standards should include more mundane things like "treating me with a little dignity and respect"...oof. OOF. 

And Here w are, finally at the point of this whole stupid thing. Another bulleted list for you! God damn, I love me some lists. 

S********'S NEW AND IMPROVED LIST OF STANDARDS ON WHICH ALL FUTURE RELATIONSHIPS OF ANY KIND SHALL BE BASED

• Gives a fucking shit about literally anything
• Puts in the same level of care and effort  he/she expects of others
• Capable of communicating without yelling, throwing shit, assault, etc
• Capable of listening without yelling, throwing shit, assault, etc
• Rinse and repeat those last two points
• Strives to be better than they were and values self improvement
• Reciprocates affection to the best of their ability
• Values the thoughts/opinions of others when asked for (Where do you want to eat?)

I'm sure I'll come up with more, but this is the backbone of what I've created so far. Woot, I feel like a dumbshit.