Untitled

Eightyseven.saidxposted.twentyfifthmarchtwothousandthirteen.

I want to write.

I don’t want to write.

Now, I’ve written.

Wait, I forgot to write that.

No, I didn’t want to write that.

I didn’t even mean that.

I should’ve worded that differently.

Now, I don’t want to write at all.

Now, I don’t have time to write and I have volumes to say.

And that’s how weeks turn into months of pent up emotions not shared.  Milestones and revelations lost.

I’m still so fucking lonely.  I believe it’s intensified.

Attended a local munch.  Not many new faces but seeing familiar ones is nice.  Only, said familiar faces are not single.

I am single.

Terminally so, it seems.

I can cuddle and make out with the above familiar faces.  To an extent.  This past munch, though, it wasn’t enough.  It was clear who they were there with.  And in times like these, though it may not be expressly implied, I feel uninvited and in the way.  Even if not, I hear the voices that raised me and shaped me tell me not to interfere with what they have.  Love is beautiful and rare and precious.  They have theirs.  Let them have it.

I’ve been interested in polyamory.  Why, though?  Is it because I doubt I’ll have my own one on one relationship?

Very much so, yes.

I’m told It’ll happen when I’m ready for it.  I’m told that I should just concentrate on being the best person I can be and she’ll come to me when I’m ready.

I don’t really know where to start with that.  I don’t really know what it means, even.  But, in looking at myself and my life, I’ve come to certain realizations about myself.

The latest…

I don’t believe that it matters what I want or what I try to do.

I think it’s been a recurring theme in my life that’s become a belief.  I didn’t always get the happy meal or the quarter to play that video game.  I got a Super Nintendo, but I never got Street Fighter II or Final Fantasy II (IV.)  I had two brothers and a sister who had to be provided for along with me.  I was lazy in high school, so I went to the military instead of college.  I could look at scholarships, but i was still going to the military.

I don’t get what I want, so the best I can do is learn to live with it.  Some guys at my high school would say (and I have no clue of the source of this quote,) “If you don’t like, learn to love it.”

What I’ve had to do.  More success in some things than others.  Doesn’t help that I’m rather laid back, go with the flow, live and let live and fairly (aaagh… what is word…)  easily swayed.

Discharged and back home, still no concrete career plans, I take whatever I can find.  Still do.  Still no concrete career plans.  I consider myself an artist, maybe even an artisan, but I don’t do much art, really.  And I have bills to pay, and need “a job with benefits,” so says my mom.  ”Then, you can get a woman.”

Part of the reason I don’t believe myself attractive. Despite several woman telling me otherwise.  Somewhat physically attractive, maybe, but what does that matter?

Meanwhile, the church gives me more “You’ll find someone when you’re ready.”

A LOT more.

“God will give you someone when HE’s ready.”

When the fuck will that be?

“Get your relationship with Him right first.”

“Keep your thoughts pure.”

“Pray that He’ll change the desires of your heart so that you’ll yearn for what He yearns for.”

Never got myself there for the two years I was there.  Decided I’d go crazy before I got right with God, so I left.

Still haven’t gotten laid.  At least now how I wanted to.

Missed two opportunities to in the last two weeks (okay, so one got postponed, but still…)

Meanwhile, I haven’t even MET anyone I want to have sex with that’s not already in a relationship.  And/or lives within reasonable driving distance.

I’ve begun to feel that, as previously stated, it doesn’t matter what I want or what I try to do.

Meanwhile, I’m at home.  Alone.  Lonely.  Want to reach out to someone. But, don’t want to bother anyone.  Tired of being the one to initiate conversation.  Tired of running out of things to say.

Really tired of feeling like I do nothing but whine.

But, no one ever reaches out to me, so I keep to myself.  Who cares what I want?

Someone finally reaches out to me…

Someone from the men’s group called. They wanted to know how i’m doing.  Of course they invited me back.

I refused.

They asked if they could call me back to get together for coffee.  I didn’t refuse that, but I’m not really looking forward to it.  I don’t want to go back to that church or that men’s group.  I don’t want to have to explain why.  I don’t really think I have a good enough reason not to.

I feel the same way about going to church Easter Sunday.  Especially if it’s going to be like the Sunday after Thanksgiving.  Already heard it from my mom about no longer regularly attending church.  That I was grown and that all she could do was pray for me, but that God would whip me and that it would be good for me.

Yeah.  I’ve come to the conclusion that while she means well, several of my mom’s parenting methods have been wrong for me.

Still, I’ve felt like that every time that anything bad has happened over the past year.  Longer than that even.  Would I have totaled my mom’s truck and had to give up the savings for my own vehicle to replace it had I never left church?  Would I still be at the scrap yard?  Would I have caved in to peer pressure and tried prayer and counseling for my “problem with lust?”

Unimportant in the grand scheme.  What’s done is done.  The next step is what’s important.

And I have no clue what that step should be.  Or maybe I just don’t want to make it and am just making excuses.  It seems to be the only thing I know how to do most of the time.  At least in the grand scheme of things.  I have trouble taking baby steps.  I’m too impatient.  I want to know that I’m progressing in the right direction.  And I’ve become convinced that others know that direction better than me.

Elders.  Whom I should respect.  Who say that know the way.  The way.

That have been down my road.

Not my road.  I’m the black sheep, the nonconformist.  Some days I have courage to blaze my own trail.  Some, I seem mired in the mud that I’ve followed the wrong path into.  Some my path is blocked by the signs of the “one true” path.

I’m not sure that is the one true path.

Yeah, that’s right, I said it.

I’ll believe it for a little bit…

Eightysix.Addxposted.SundayStPatricksDaytwothousandthirteen.

I haven’t written in a while.  I’ve kept meaning to but never took the time.  I want to at least attempt tonight.

I’ve been up and down.  This weekend was down.  Way down.

I was planning on attending  an event this weekend.  Only I had transportation troubles at the last minute.

I did not handle it well.

(Kind of funny it happened after a syndicated radio host I listen to mentioned sitting at home in stead of attending an event he hosted over the weekend because of waiting to hear from your friends.)

I don’t know if I was just upset because of missing the event itself.  Likely had something to do that I was scheduled to take part in an orgy at said event.  But also, I felt so fucking alone this weekend.  I’ve felt alone most of the time anyway.  I was looking forward to being around people I knew well enough to hug, kiss and cuddle with, nevermind the sex.  (Well, almost, you know.)  I’m a cuddle slut with no one to cuddle 98.4235% of the time.  I have to behave.  I have to make sure I don’t stare and think of something of substance and/or wit to say.  And at the end of the day, I have to go back to my cold, empty house.

It was lonely this weekend.  I only know so many people, and they were either out of town or sick.  So all I had was myself.  And this…  I don’t know what it was, but it left me emotional to the point of rage with nothing to really rage at.

I felt frustrated and powerless to change anything.  I was where I have been most of the year, feeling like it’s God’s way of cutting everything off that He doesn’t want me to have so I finally have no other choice but to give up everything I want to do everything the church said I have to.

When I’ve been at those points in the past I’ve cried under he weight of it but I didn’t feel like crying yesterday.

I wanted to change something.  To make something better.

Bought a carpet, so that’s something.  Step towards getting out of this empty cold house.

But, now I want to be with someone. I’m tired of always being alone. I want to change that…

Eightyfive.whoxposted.sundaytwentiethjanuarytwothousandthirteen.

Funny.

The last few of these that I ened up staying over Friday and Saturday night, I packed considerable emotional baggage that had me feeling like crap the first night, but by the second had gotten lost somewhere and I felt considerably less weighed down and freer to glide about the area in better spirits and feeling more willing, able and alllowed to participate.

About the beginning of the summer of two thou’nd n’ ‘le’um, my girlfriend at the time invited me to drive her out to a bonfire at the residence of a friend of hers in the country.  The homeowner is one of the coolest cats in the world and his house, and those who dwell within are extremely awesome themselves.  This past weekend was his birthday celebration, and I looked forward to as usual.

I packed my camera, iPad, Bluetooth keyboard (which I’m typing this on now,) couple outfits, couple towels, my laptop (we were going to try to salvage the data on it, as the plug broke a prong off over last summer leaving but one and the battery no longer lasts four minutes) and the emotional state of my last post.  Along with the revelation of that the feelings I’ve expressed in that post and the ones before it are, in fact, self loathing.

And a command from a friend from outside of Fet that I’d been sharing these with to not send her anymore because they contained curses preventing me from having a fulfilling job or a girlfriend and she no longer wanted to be a party to that.

So, carrying these, I moped about and weirded out one of the participants to the point where I had to be pulled to the side about it.  Which intensied the moping.  For which I got pulled to the side about that.  And I woke alone after not nearly enough sleep and a shit opinion of myself and my behavior the night before.

Got to apologize to the person I weirded out, and she said it was cool, and I felt a bit better.  Lost some of the funk I’d carried in with me.  Picked up a bit here and there, dropped other pieces.  Went to bed alone, but much lighter. Woke this morning with revelations I felt compelled to share, so I donned the Bluetooth keyboard.

Damn if I’ma remember what I wanted to day.

Damn if I know that I want to, after the note about curses against my happiness.  I just thought I was document where I was and sharing.  I didn’t see it as self sabotage.  I acknowledge that words are more powerful that we give them credit for.

How much power do my words have?  Really, how much power do I have?  Can I turn it all around with a simple phrase?

What words do I even leave here anymore?

How do I truly take responsibility for my, and claim, my own happiness?  Is their a path, simple yet magical or long and tenuous, through which I wield my own power in doing so?  Or does it truly only come from releasing all claims to it and to what I want to follow some omnipotent forces?  Is “happiness” but a lie used to lure us to destruction that we can only be saved from by suffering and sacrifice that grant us true joy?

Those are powerful words there.  And, you really have to trust the one wielding them.  Trust is a dangerous thing that far too many had used to hurt others, either willingly and vengefully or unintentionally, to an extent, not ultimately looking to cause harm, just ignoring it for the lure of their own gain.  Yet, we must trust each other.  We cannot live alone, we were not meant to, we need others, we must be able to trust each other so I refuse not to.  But, trust has been so misrepresented and abused that we don’t recognize it or know how to truly respond.

Love is the same way.

We can try to figure out where to cast blame for this.  Does that really help anything?

Would it not be better to actually try to fix the problem instead of wasting time arguing who is responsible for it?

Was gonna try to work in a reference to a story I saw posted on the wall in fourth grade about the something everybody had do do, somebody should’ve done it, anybody could’ve done but nobody ended up doing.  But, I felt like that was just passing the buck a bit, where yeah, I’m responsible for being fucked up, but don’t wait for me to fix myself.

Where does my responsibility, and my ability, lie in this?

Let’s see what this spell does…

Eightyfour.Timexposted.thursdayseventeenthjanuarytwothousandthirteen.

I have much too much to say than a ten minute break on a smartphone will allow, bit I feel compelled to share and I doubt it’ll be there tonight. It hasn’t been thus far this week

I used to view pretty much every attractive woman I encountered as a potential mate. I would then find that these women usually already HAD mates. They had lives before me. They had other, more attractive suitors. So, I came to tell myself that every woman was somehow unavailable and uninterested.

I’ve noticed that this has recently evolved into treating every woman who shows me any affection as the last woman on earth who will ever do so

I’ve just done it again

I realize that this is unhealthy and it generally ruins any potential relationship. And when that inevitably happens, I conclude that I am totally unwanted and should just give up searching.

pretty much had, actually

I did a blog entry about how I’d come to terms with the fact that I am a collection of insecurities and quirks that not every woman can love. I now believe that this unicorn is just that and that I’ll never find happiness. I realize I shouldn’t look for happiness in others and should get this from within. Or from God. I’ve given up on the latter because I still can’t give up wanting sex. I’m about to give up wanting sex because I don’t believe I’ll ever get it again because no one wants it with me or how I want it. I’ve been told to look for friends first and maybe eventually she’ll feel comfortable playing. And, I’m told that playing is a separate level from sex that takes even more time to build up to. And I doubt I have the patience anymore. Not that I simply want to hit it and quit it. But who gives a shit what I want? An associate pastor once said that when we don’t know what to do (which I definitely do not, don’t know who to ask, don’t even feel worthy of asking because I should know it by now) we do what we know to do. All I know to do is to exist, I guess…

Eightyfour.Timexposted.thursdayseventeenthjanuarytwothousandthirteen.

I have much too much to say than a ten minute break on a smartphone will allow, bit I feel compelled to share and I doubt it’ll be there tonight. It hasn’t been thus far this week. I used to view pretty much every attractive woman I encountered as a potential mate. I would then find that these women usually already HAD mates. They had lives before me. They had other, more attractive suitors. So, I came to tell myself that every woman was somehow unavailable and uninterested. I’ve noticed that this has recently evolved into treating every woman who shows me any affection as the last woman on earth who will ever do so. I’ve just done it again. I realize that this is unhealthy and it generally ruins any potential relationship. And when that inevitably happens, I conclude that I am totally unwanted and should just give up searching. I pretty much had, actually. I did a blog entry about how I’d come to terms with the fact that I am a collection of insecurities and quirks that not every woman can love. I now believe that this unicorn is just that and that I’ll never find happiness. I realize I shouldn’t look for happiness in others and should get this from within. Or from God. I’ve given up on the latter because I still can’t give up wanting sex. I’m about to give up wanting sex because I don’t believe I’ll ever get it again because no one wants it with me or how I want it. I’ve been told to look for friends first and maybe eventually she’ll feel comfortable playing. And, I’m told that playing is a separate level from sex that takes even more time to build up to. And I doubt I have the patience anymore. Not that I simply want to hit it and quit it. But who gives a shit what I want? An associate pastor once said that when we don’t know what to do (which I definitely do not, don’t know who to ask, don’t even feel worthy of asking because I should know it by now) we do what we know to do. All I know to do is to exist, I guess…

Eightythree.Whatagainxposted.saturdaytwetfhjanuarytwothousandthirteen.

Yesterday was emotional.

I was trying to pump out the demanded quota and running into the routine hiccups that generally occur.   Only, the quota is more than my best day.  I managed to just make a new record and still come up short.

The supervisor stopping by to ask if I’d achieve that quota helped NONE.

Broke a plastic piece using too much force because I was stressed.  Had to pause to stop myself from repeating that twice more.

Paused after typing that NONE.

Descended back to the point where I decided that it’s not for me to have a job.  That God is stripping away everything so that it’s just me and him with no distractions so that I’ll finally break and submit to Him.

Didn’t make me want to go crying back to the church or the men’s group where I picked up this idea, as I feel that course of action won’t prevent this, and I still don’t think I fit in there.  Even if I do go back to church and do as they say, the thing I hold onto still have to go, as they’re considered unnecessary, therefore distractions, therefore idols, therefore evil.

I know there are people who are tired of me whining about church and what this church did to me.  To be fair, I’m not sure it’s what they specifically said or if it’s bits and pieces I assembled into my own illusion of what God should be that’s really an ugly mosaic that couldn’t be farther from the truth.  Not even sure why I felt so strongly about this constructed truth or their truth.  But, I feel like working through all that crap may be a step in the direction of feeling better about myself.

Right now, I have many hangups about church.  Never in my life have I ever not wanted to go for any reason other than just laziness.  Never have I imagined it being difficult to deal with the concept of prayer, save the mechanical grace before meals.  I still remember praying with the men’s group about letting God turn me into what they said I should be, which isn’t necessarily who I want to be.  Still get upset with religious postings on Facebook.  And it’s not fun living next to a mother who feels like every breath is a reason to run in every time the doors of the church are open, and thinks I’m flawed for not having that same zeal.

One of the many reason I’ve come to see myself as fundamentally flawed, perhaps.  That I’ve decided that I have no virtue that is of any value.

Saw something on Facebook that spoke on this.  Kind of tuned out at the end when it tied it back to church.

I still believe in church.  I still see the virtue of having a community of like minded believers for support.  I had a pastor say that we humans are not made to live solitary lives, and I believe that.

But, I also believe that not every church is right for everyone, even within the same denomination.

So, part of what I believe as far as church is what I want and whether it matters.  The old church was all, “We’re sinful, ignorant children who don’t know what’s best for us, we have to let God tell us what we need and suppress our own desires.”  ”Die to ourselves,” they called it.

Took a relationship class they offered because I figured it’d get me straight about how to approach a relationship.  And got, “Don’t look for a relationship.  Work on being a good Christian, submitting to God, and He’ll send someone when you’re ready.”

Like I’ll ever accomplish that, especially by the requirements I’d set for myself.  Add to that an “Any relationship you enter into should be on it way to marriage,” ie anything else is unnecessary, therefore distraction, therefore idol, therefore evil.  Mix in sexual sin is the most destructive kind of sin and top with whenever you have a sexual thought, stop and pray and text your brothers, saying that you’re being attacked.

After souring to the taste of that, I decided to get out, try to date and basically work on becoming the slut I didn’t let myself be at church.

Ok, I didn’t make any decisive action or any progress, which is why I’ve resolved to plan things better.  Including what I want a relationship to look like, except not totally locked down, clank clank monogamous because I still wanna be a slut.  And I still have no concept on how to approach women for all the things I’ve been led to believe they don’t want and I have no right asking them for.

At some point yesterday, I didn’t want to post this.  Thought that it has no place on this site.  This is a BDSM social network, and I’ve posted things that have nothing to do with anything but my issues and flaws that no one is even interested in.  But, it’s a profile on a social network, and I’m somewhat social with people here who are interested in me.  And, I’ve come to the conclusion that we’re all a bit fucked up here, anyway.  And I’m told that there’s a part of BDSM that’s about evolving into a better person, and that’s the process I’m trying to outline here…

Also, who the fuck came up with the word twelfth…

Eightytwo.Vinxposted.thursdaytenthjanuarytwothousandthirteen.

Fuckin’ week it’s been for my self esteem.

Got yelled at by my supervisor Monday for forgetting the password to the time entry system.  I haven’t been able to log on since the new year began, and that’s the error it gave me.  So, obviously, I’m putting the wrong password in.  So, she had me change it.

Still didn’t work.

Wasn’t until a couple days later that she finally suggested I try the password before the one I changed.  Somehow that worked.  Then, obviously I should’ve gone in to change my password in the time entry system itself, even though I barely remember setting it after arriving at the job a few months ago when it worked fine with the second password until the beginning of the year.

Today, she asked me to call me when I tested the component I was assembling when she walked by.  When I went to get her, got on me that it’d taken so long to finish.  That I should be finishing five a day and it shouldn’t have taken almost half the day to finish one.

Didn’t tell her that I had been doing something else when I arrived.

Then, I’d ignored an LED on the tester that I truly didn’t know was important.  And she said that several of the components I’d initialed off on had defects.  Then, she went to speak to my trainer and walked off.

So, he came over and asked me to come to him whenever I had problems.  And I plugged up the tester to explain the LED that didn’t light, and of course it lit up.  Heard there’s a part of Murphy’s Law that says that a malfunctioning part will operate properly when demonstrated for a mechanic.

Anyway, I attempt assembly of another component, and again the LED won’t come on.  Then, I see that I didn’t hook a cable up right, and see a couple other things I missed.  And he finally says in his Caribbean accent that I have to force myself not to attempt to imitate,” You’re stressin’! Stop it!”  And after that, I calmed down a bit.  Still feel like I’m on borrowed time.  Seems no matter how many people say I’m doing a good job, she seems to come by when I fuck up or when I stop to take a breath.  And she’s the supervisor.

And I got paid today.  Short check from the plant being shut down for New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day, same as with Christmas Eve and Christmas Day the week before, and I as a temp don’t get holiday pay or have the option of using vacation pay or anything to cover it.  But, with the difficulties with the time system, I’m glad I got paid at all.  And that my tiny check wasn’t affected by side effects of the Fiscal Cliff debacle that I hear some people’s taxes still went up over.

Then, came home to read this piece about nice guy syndrome and the friend zone talking about guys who are friendly only as a means of getting a woman to give up sexual favors and it forced me to wonder how guilty I am of it.  I don’t (think) I do.  At least I don’t threaten to go bad boy just because I don’t get any.  I tend to blame myself more than others.  My own shyness, introversion and insecurities.

Do bitch a good bit about it, though.  Thanks for weathering it…

Eightyone.Bedtimexposted.fifthjanuarytwothousandthirteen.

Didn’t want to go to bed this late before the first Monday I have to work in 2013, the first one I’ve had to work in two weeks.  But, I didn’t want the night to go by without sharing and documenting my thoughts.  Warning, though: I think I shall ramble, peradventure.

Weekend was interesting.  Friday was the monthly open house of galleries downtwn called, simply enough, First Friday.  The photography club had an exhibit.  That I failed to properly plan (and execute) to submit work to.  I missed their summer show, too, as well as a juried show I’d submitted to the year prior and gotten into.  So, tack onto my resolution trying to do more with my photography.  As far as learning more about technique and doing more with my stuff.  Entering contests, displaying my work, and just getting out to take damn pictures.

I also want to do more with my writing.  I don’t know that I’ll submit any of it to anything, but I have stories in my head that I want to get out.  Just started another one, actually.

Saw someone I’d met at my first Bikram class that I later got in contact with on twitter.  She told me about an open mike at an African American history museum.  That was nice.  Mixed crowd.  Older, younger, black, white.  Think a white woman was organizing it, in fact.  Don’t know if this was the only one or if it’ll become a regular thing.  I hope it will.  It was also the first time I’d been in the museum.  Not a huge museum, but it had a nice exhibit on display about the history of slavery in the area.  Picked up a brochure about a show that had highlighted the business owned by African Americans in the area.

Saturday was mostly lazy with me not wrenching myself from the computer for most of the day (even got up at almost noon.)  Was nice to not have to rush up out of bed, though, but upset I didn’t get anything done.  Had a munch that night.  Not a large crowd, but enjoyed the conversation.  Met a new face, saw old friends.

Went from an open mike in a family atmosphere to seeing topless women tied up.  I like to keep it eclectic.

Today was a road trip to a planning meeting for a science fiction convention next month(plug one.)  Voted on a short story from a very talented young lady to win a scholarship.  Learned that the hotel is filling and that tickets are selling at a good pace, beating last year’s.  Turned a friend on to a pretty cool iOS game (plug two.)

Learned I may be asked to sit on an adult panel.

Me, speaking on a panel?  I don’t speak that much normally.  But, I add what I can if I am indeed offered the opportunity.

And, I thought most of the weekend about relationships.  What I want in one.  What I can add to one. What I deserve.  Also, about whether I believe the praise people have given me.  I’m oft quick to soak up how good a writer, cook or photographer I am or, when I was younger, how I “shang real good, baaaay-beh.”  But now, I had a list of compliments that I pretty much refuse to believe.  How good a worker I am.  How attractive I am (I even got an “I can’t believe you’re still single.”)

But, at the munch, I got told I’d be a good sensual dom.  That I could be firm when it came to matters of caring for my sub.

Part of the reason I identify as sub is that I’m indecisive, nonconfrontational and the few times I’ve been asked to babysit young kids, they’ve pretty much run all over me.  Not to mention, all the other messages about what I’m supposed to make/own/be that I’m just now deciding which messages I want to pay attention to.  And, I’ve got lots of growing and evolution left yet.

Maybe I’ll even evolve into a switch, who knows?  Could truly end up like that picture.  Bi poly switch:  I’m not confused, I’m just greedy.

Could I be as hot as the woman in that pic, I wonder…

Eighty.Rezxposted.secondjanuarytwothousandthirteen.

So, I went with friends to a brunch at a nearby brewery (well, almost fifty miles away, actually) with friends.  And I gotta say I was a touch disappointed.

Made me wonder where my general mood is and if I’m disappointed with everything.

Okay, to be fair, one of the big disappointments had to do with the price of the food.  I feel like it was a touch overpriced.  Nine dollar fitty burgers, dawg?  And up?  Twenty dollar pizzas, too, but someone nearby ordered one and those turned out to be big enough for two, so that’s about average, not that bad.  But, the bigger thing is, while I may not have been able to replicate the meal exactly, I could’ve gotten similar stuff in town cheaper.  We got a brewery in town and I believe another’s about to open.  Let me stop whining.  It was a nice ride, nice to get out of the house and out of town, good company, good burger, good cider (which, by the way, was made by another brewery, and I could’ve gotten the cider in town.  Was at a local greasy spoon not too long ago that carried it.)  And, lovely views of the mountains.  So, it’s not like we ended up driving that far to go to Applebee’s or something (two of those in town, last few times I was there, they ain’t impress me much.)

Oh, peaking of the cider, my memory.  I’d forgotten I’d even ordered it by the time it arrived.  It wasn’t like it too super long to get there, but I saw the server drop it off and I took a drink of the glass in front of me, and I’m like,”…This isn’t water! Who’s drink did I…  Oh.  Nevermind.”

I’m pondering trying meditation to calm my mind.  I like the way my mind wanders at times, I feel like I can get some creative ideas that way.  But at time, I’d like  a bit more control of where it goes.  Less uncomfortable places.  Less earworms.

I hinted at New Year’s Resolutions last night, but now after I’ve thought a bit about them today, I wish to utilize the power of social media to share them and make them official:

• Plan more.  I’ve noticed I’ve been way too wasteful.  I tend to pay my bills, maybe set a bit aside, then blow the rest.  I want to plan better and set more aside, along with better controlling how much I waste.  Plan out meals in advance, learn more recipes, try to take a cooking course or two.

Same goes for time.  Bedtime has been sneaking up me too much lately.

• Get more active.  The majority of the fitness goals I made for last year failed due to monetary limitations.  I’m going to say that they still stand, but I really just need to get up and get more active.  Still upset at how tired and stiff I was the last time I di… attempted Bikram.
• Keep reading.  Speeding through “No Mercy” by Sherilyn Kenyon, want another book soon.
• Get out of the house and stop spending so fucking much time alone.  Find people I can be myself around.  I don’t feel like I have that.  People mention that someone you can call at three am.  I don’t feel like I have that.  And I’ve made so many faux pas around people that I rarely feel like I can truly let myself feel at ease without fearing I’ll do something to get me banned from that particular circle for life.

Didn’t get out much as a kid.  Still working on social skills.

As far as romantic relationships go, I’m not sure what to resolve on that front.  The whole dating thing was really to meet people to fuck.  But, as much as I still want to just fuck, I’d also like to build relationships so I’m not just poking random people I don’t care about and can’t open up to in order to feel comfortable to try the freakier shit I wanna do.  I’ve been told not to focus on sex but to just get to know people and eventually they’ll feel comfortable inviting you to have sex.  And even in the case that I don’t I’ve had some good times just cuddling and hanging out, which is better than just wham, bam, thank you ma’am/man, hit it and quit it.

Was listening to the radio today, and heard from a farmer in Kentucky who wasn’t doing too great.  But, after his previous appearance on the show, he had a talk with his family and in stead of focusing on how bad things were, they decided to try to help people however they could.  It was a really touching interview, and a lesson I could take.

Not making that a resolution, though.  What, you want me to just set myself up for failure?  C’mon…

Seventynine.Finallyfirstxposted.Newyearsdaytwothousandthirteen.

So, didn’t ring in the new year like I planned.

There’s a place downtown called bull branch that does this New Year’s Eve ritual where you write down what you want to leave in the old year and they burn it at midnight (heard it came from Burning Man, but I’ve never made it to Burning Man.)  Anyway, after arriving (probably more than) fashionably late, I have to wait for a few people to come out before I can go in.  Then, I’m dealing with all the people in there, and the owner hands me a hat.  And before I know it, she’s on the other side of the club with the bucket that they’re gonna burn it in, and I’m like, Oh, well.

Didn’t even get a drink, besides water. But, did see a few familiar faces and get a hug. And a hat.  And did another tradition where I hit T-Room after.

So, didn’t get to ceremonially leave my burdens down by the wayside.  May come up with another ceremony or just move on.  But that’s not why I’m here.  Just like I was looking forward to that ceremony, I was looking forward to this post.

Welcome to my (first annual after thirty seven years?) Year In Review.

Looking back at the Facebook, I find that I made four resolutions last year.

*Start taking lessons again to learn to swim.

*Start taking yoga again on a regular basis.

*Try the rock wall downtown at Rise Up Climbing.

*Look for more areas to volunteer.

0 for four.  Couldn’t find anywhere besides the Y in town that had swimming lessons, and I refuse to pay the Y’s joining fee plus the monthly fee just to learn to swim.  Never made it to Rise Up.  Did yoga MAYBE twice this year.  And didn’t volunteer much at all.

Also, I took up the challenge to acquire and beat every official numbered Final Fantasy game besides the MMOs.

Eight out of twelve on acquisition, two out of twelve on completion.  Never got III, IV, VIII or XII.  Finished X and XIII (which adds one to the list of games in the series that I’ve completed, along with I, VI and VII, and I’d beaten X before.)  I blame II.  The system of leveling up as you use certain abilities is cool, probably was really cool back when the game came out back in nineteen and eighty eight. But, if you don’t get the opportunity to regularly use those skills, you can find yourself in trouble.  Didn’t help that I started this challenge right before getting Mass Effect 3.  Finally got the ending everyone complained about (which wasn’t that bad, IMHO) after giving up on the Final Fantasy Challenge.  Still haven’t gotten the good, extra download ending, but I’m close.  And after I do, I’m gonna give Mass Effect a break.  In fact, I’m gonna try to inject variety into my gaming to not get burned out on anything.  I’ve got a good enough backlog to manage that.

I also didn’t get out on a date.  Once I decided to leave the church and the mindset of having to purge myself of all sexual urges, I said I wanted to get out and date more.  Well, I said I want to get out and be a slut, actually.  And someone proposed that I try to have a date a month.  I said I’d just go for a date before the end of the year, then another after that.  Well, zero dates at all.

Also wanted to finish reading the Old Testament, but never made it out of II Kings.

Yeah, then, there was the derecho where I lost power for almost a week, totalling my mom’s truck. paying to have that and the lemon towed, separation anxiety from church, Sandy, the shootings, the election…

But also, i started back to blogging after about a year and change.  Around thirty of these this year.  Writing’s felt good.  Hear responses has felt really good.  Is it doing any good?  Don’t know.  Perhaps someday I’ll read them to see where I was compared to where I am.

Not tonight.

Also, started reading.  Books!  Who knew?  Finished seven books this year and more than doubled the volume of my little bookshelf.  Yeah, not much, but still.

Got out and meet a few people.  Tried a few new things.  Some I liked.  Some, not so much.

So, what are my plans for the new year?  Well, I’m moving.  Not far, just out of my aunt’s house.  Figure it’ll give me room to grow when I’m not fighting her and  my mom to do what I want.  Give me space to make mistakes and whatnot.  Not moving for a few months yet, though. Right now, I’m measuring for the carpets I have to replace and figuring out what I want to take vs what I’m getting rid of and finding a place.

I want to keep reading.  Right now, I’m reading “No Mercy” by Sherilyn Kenyon.  Nothing earth shatteringly profound, but I like it.  My list of things to get include:

*”The Right To Be Wrong: Ending The Culture War In America” by Kevin James Hasson

*”Why Did Jesus, Moses, Buddha and Mohamed Cross The Road?:Christian Identity In A Multifaith World” By Brian D. McLaren

*”Food Rules” and “In Defense of Food” by Michael Pollan

*”How To Be Black” by Baratunde Thurston

I’ll try for those and see how far I get.

I don’t know that I want to actually date.  Right now, I’m still figuring out exactly who I am and what I want, and I don’t know that I’ll find someone looking for what I have to offer right now.  Especially with the uncertainty of moving and nailing down my car and job situations.

Game wise, I wanna finish up what I have.  Presently, that means getting the good Mass Effect 3 ending.  Think I’ll give it a break after that.  Besides, I wanna get more active.  Not gonna commit to anything that requires a huge financial investment, but I can walk more or something.

Yeah, that doesn’t even sound as good as committing to rock climbing, hot yoga and swimming, does it?  I need to plan a bit better in the new year.  Budget better.  Plan out meals better.  Come up with a route to walk regularly.

No, I didn’t say I was going to do that NOW!  I’m sleepy.

Merry New Year, good peoples…