Singers have their lyrics and melodies, painters have their colors and shadows, writers have their descriptive phrases and idioms. Even if you aren't one of the few who have officially declared themselves a writer, or a singer, or an artist, we still all have a media in which we feel most comfortable expressing ourselves. Some people are great speakers, they can force a room into silence, or laughter, or tears just by putting together a string of words. They can evoke great sadness, or happiness, just by the tone of their voice. Other's express themselves through the various art forms: photography, painting, sculpture. Creating physical manifestations of their emotions, of their stories, of their lives. Others write. I write. I don't pretend to be a great writer, or even a good one for that matter. I have my moments, we all do in whatever media we choose to express ourselves. But it doesn't matter if I'm not a great writer, or even a good one most of the time. Because I write for myself. I write to express my ideas, to get them out of my head and to create something from those vague ideas floating around in the matterless void known as my brain. Even if I'm just creating a string of letters that mean nothing to anyone but me, they are still my words, my thoughts, my feelings and ideas. I've never been a talker. Ask anyone who knows me, especially those who know me best. I talk, but I've never been a big talker. I talk when I have something to say, otherwise I tend to think things through, work out situations, create my dreams and destroy my fears, within the safety of my inner thoughts. Few know it, but I've written for years. Again, nothing important, nothing noteworthy, but I wrote poems, I wrote stories, I just wrote. Most if it I didn't save, because I got it out and found I didn't need it anymore. Some I saved; some I held onto because I still found it important to my life, my world, my desires and my emotions. I still write (I know, I know, not as much as I should, or could) thanks to this crazy modern invention called a blog. I love it. Because, somewhat ironically, as much as I love to write, I hate actually having to write. I hated sitting down with a journal and putting the pen to the paper. I would write a few sentences and then my thoughts would get so far ahead of the words flowing out on my paper that I would give up. Leaving my words trailing off into nothingness. Trailing off into the thoughts that remained within. But, typing is a whole other story. For once I can actually 'write' and think at almost the same pace.
It was a hard thing for me to start sharing the details of my life on my blog. Not because I was embarrassed, or ashamed, or anything. It was because I didn't share the details of my life with anyone like I did on the blog. Daily updates on my thoughts or my happenings were never a part of my daily life. Most my friends probably know more about the daily happenings of my life now that they read my blog than they every have before. The reason for this isn't because I wanted to keep those details for them, but because I felt more comfortable sharing them, expressing them through the written word, than through the spoken one. I'm not sure why, it's just how I work. When I started this whole dating adventure (that really started months ago with my attempt to ask out the Dog Park Guy) I didn't discuss this with anyone really, except Shannon, and that's only because she had read my blog and then would quiz me about it in person. But I'm sure if you ask her, she would say I was sparse with the details at first. I still am. I actually seriously considered not writing about any of my man-ventures because I realised at that time, I hadn't actually told any of my friends about it. How could I write about something so dramatic, so important, in my life when I couldn't even tell my friends about it? Because I felt comfortable doing it. The words just flowed. The words never seem to flow when I'm talking; I always feel awkward and half of the time on the verge of tears because my mind is working overtime, trying to express itself and process what it's taking in.
I've had a few people, friends, point out lately that I won't tell them about things in person but I'll write about them on my blog. I was driving home from a weekend with friends on Saturday and Memphis and I were exchanging dirty text messages back and forth. For close to an hour. My friends knew who I was texting with. They knew the just of the messages. And they wanted the details. But I just couldn't do it. I couldn't look them straight in the eye and tell them I just got a text message telling me that he want to bend me over a coffee table and pull my hair. But see, I have no problem telling you now. When I was worried I was getting fired, I was scared shitless of having to meet with my boss until Shannon recommended that maybe I email her beforehand to let her know what I was thinking. It was the best thing I ever did. I got a chance to lay my thoughts out and re-read them and make sure that I was saying what I actually meant to say. That being said, now that people have mentioned that I have a hard time telling them things in person, but not on my blog or in an email, I feel as though I am trapped. I enjoy writing. I enjoy sharing. But now I feel that if I do that, some people in my life will think that I'm NOT sharing with them but sharing with complete strangers. I feel like I am going to hurt their feelings because I want to share things in a media I feel comfortable working with, but not necessarily in the media they want me to share in. I'm not entirely sure where this post was supposed to go.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
What's your media?
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
My rant about birth control...
I am out of town yet again. Right before I left town I stopped by Longs to pick up the refill for my birth control that I called in over the weekend. Only to find out that apparently I can't get a refill on my prescription until June 5th. Because apparently I refilled my last one on May 16 and APPARENTLY I have to have 21 days between my refills. Which for those of you who are familiar with birth control, means that I can't actually refill my birth control until I am in my inactive week. Which fucking sucks in my opinion. I am sorry, but I am a busy person and if you really expect me to remember to refill my prescription in a short 7 day period, you are fucking insane. Especially when you are closed on Sundays. So that really means I only have 6 days. And considering I have only been in town on the weekends lately that means I have 1 day to remember to refill my birth control this month. You all fucking suck ass. So this means that in the 2 days I am back in town I have to remember to go pick up my fucking birth control. But I better not forget until Sunday, because they are closed. On this note, when I was in college I used to get my birth control from our campus pharmacy and they would let us refill it 90 days at time. Which made sense because you know what college kid can remember to refill something every month. And really, it's so much better for the environment (I have to try some other sort of logic because apparently 'I can't remember' isn't a good enough excuse). Instead of 12 trips to the pharmacy, if I could refill my prescription every 90 days, that would mean only 4 trips a year...so much better for the environment! And I realize that it may be as simple as calling my doctor, or calling my insurance to ask them to do that, it still is ridiculous that they will sell me as many bottles of vodka as I want, but I can't purchase 3 months worth of birth control at a time!
On this note, a few days ago I needed to stock up on condoms. Because, as you all know, I've been getting some action lately. Because I didn't want to buy condoms from my normal grocery store (because the kind of geeky-cute checker who I have a little crush on was working), I went to another grocery store down the street from my house to buy them. It was probably about 6pm and I went into buy condoms. I also went to this store because they have those nifty self-checker things so I wouldn't even have to face the checker buying only condoms. However...ugg, I came to find out that this particular store stocks their condoms in their pharmacy, which APPARENTLY is only open until 4pm. Seriously? The first issue that is wrong with this whole thing is that if a horny teenager makes the right decision and decides to go buy condoms, but lo and behold it's 4:15 in the afternoon, they are shit out of luck because the condoms are locked up behind the gates with all of the drugs (i.e the pharmacy) which is just poor planning on someone's part in my head. The second is that who the fuck shops before 4pm in the afternoon? Housewives and old people...not exactly the biggest proportion of condom purchaser's are they? It's probably not too far out of the ballpark to say that the normal average condom purchaser probably works during the day and might possibly do their grocery shopping AFTER they get off work, is it? I mean, even those horny teenagers are in school until at least 2 or 3, right? This pisses me off. I mean if they are afraid they are going to get stolen, shouldn't they at least consider that at least they are possibly preventing the spread of disease and/or unwanted pregnancies, instead of...well...leaving those chocolate bars out in the open to be stolen...they are going to get a bunch of overweight, stressed out people...oh wait, that's kind of what most of us are anyways. See, blame it on the grocery stores who lock up the condoms after 4pm!!!
ALSO....I happen to take notice while I was trying to reach between the bars and grab some condoms trying to figure out if I should call someone and then realized that I would the girl who called someone to open the gates to get her some condoms decide what other store I should go to buy condoms that they also keep the pregnancy tests back behind the gates as well. And not just behind the gates, but behind the actual counter so you have to talk to a pharmacist to get them. Now, I wasn't looking for a pregnancy test but I thought about this for a moment. There are really only 2 reasons you would be looking for a pregnancy test, (1) you are excited at the possibility of being pregnant or (2) you are seriously hoping you ARE NOT pregnant. In the first case, I suppose you probably wouldn't mind talking to a pharmacist to get the pregnancy test. Or you might just want to get the test and get the fuck home to pee on a stick and find out if you are. But either way, if you think you are pregnant, and you are excited about it, I would imagine you would probably drive to the store as soon as you thought it was a possibility to buy a test and would super duper pissed off if they were locked up behind bars because it was 4:05pm. In the other case, where you are hoping you ARE NOT pregnant, the last thing you probably want to do is ASK something for a pregnancy test. The last thing you want is the smiling face of a pharmacy employee wishing you good luck when they hand over a pregnancy test (when all your thinking is "why don't you shove this box up your &$?*! I better not be!"). And on that note, if they are closed and you need to find out, how pissed off would you be that after stressing in your head all day at work, you show up at the store and they are locked up behind bars?
So I suppose I really didn't have a point with this post except to rant, but seriously, doesn't this just annoy any of you just a little bit? I mean, in this day and age, even though I realize there are those people out there that don't support birth control, we live during a time period and have the technology, where we, as intelligent people, have the choice to have sex for pleasure, and not risk having children (thus adding to an already overpopulated world) and not risk spreading disease (in a world already plague with so many other diseases) and yet our choice is not supported by a large chain grocery store. I guess it's all about choice, right? Which just means that I will probably choose in the future to shop somewhere else...
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
So I have a problem...
I got an email from one of the girls at my work saying she is starting a book club with some other girls at my work and some of the wives of the guys at my work. I really like all these people, and I love reading, but I have desire to sit around and talk about a book with them. How do I get out of this? Do I just not respond to the email or do I say I'm not really interested? I'm not in the office so I don't have to deal with it for a few days but they are eventually gonna ask me about it and I have no idea what to do.
Monday, May 26, 2008
A little glimpse into my life.
I have been making an effort to get a little more exercise and both for my sake and for the mental and physical health of my dog, I've been going on little hikes to replace our morning walks at least one day during the weekend. Here's a few pictures of our hike last weekend..(that you know, I forgot to post last weekend...).
Sierra...on high alert due to the recent sightings of THE CAT'S
Galena Creek
An emerging Snow Plant...this one was just breaking through but they can grow to be 12-20" high on only last for a month or so during the early spring.
What else would my dog when confronted with water?
Umm...Trees
A picture of me for good measure.
My dog...mid-graze, she likes to graze on fresh grass on occasion...just for fun, she's always done it and this is one of her favorite grazing spots.
Ummm, more trees...Does this mean I can officially start celebrating my birthday now?
This afternoon I was out walking my dog and decided to check my mailbox (I live in a condo complex and we have a mega-mailbox structure that I check, maybe once a week, I am really bad about check my mail!). Anywho, I had a key waiting for me which meant that I had some sort of package. I open the 'package' mailbox and see a box from Amazon.com sitting there. I stare at it slightly confused for a while wondering to myself if I blacked out one night and ordered stuff off of Amazon.com again. So I take the box and continue on my way back to my condo, still wondering what is in this mysterious Amazon.com box. "Did I really order something and not remember it?" I think to myself the whole way home.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Ummm, and some days I wonder why I can't lose weight.
So it just dawned on my that I booked my entire Sunday around eating. This is what my day planner would look like. That is if I had a day planner. Oh wait, I do have one. So let me re-phase...This is what my day planner would look like IF I actually used it.
10:00am: Breakfast with boss, well not really boss anymore, more friend/owner of company I work for, someone else is officially my boss. Either way, breakfast and coffee with boss.
12:00pm: BBQ (in the rain?) at Shannon's house. Must remember: make potato salad. Must remember: do not eat potato salad BEFORE BBQ.
6:00pm: Dinner at The Melting Pot! Yeah, fondue! Yeah! I am so excited! This is really dinner for my mom's b-day but because she is easily influenced I convinced her that SHE wanted to go there. I am so excited I might pee my pants. But that would be embarrassing. So if I did, I wouldn't admit it in my blog. But I wouldn't do that. Seriously. Damn, not you all think I pee my pants.
10:00pm: Memphis is coming over. So technically IIIIIIII might not be eating anything but...
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Does anybody else find this kind of cute?
You all know Memphis is southern. And he speaks with a great southern accent. And the best part is that he even text messages with a southern accent.
I got this message last night while Shannon and I were having dinner:
Wanna get nekid?
The first time he did it, I half way made fun of him because he couldn't spell but then threw in how it was kind of cute that he even wrote with a southern accent. I think he was slightly impressed I picked up on what he was trying to do instead of just thinking he was a dumb southerner.
