someone puked in my car on prom night.
it was not discovered till monday.
the stuff I used to clean it gives me a headache.
I get to get a headache now when I drive anywhere.
this is a joke, right?

I feel like a deer caught in my own headlights.

oddly enough, I also wore pink strapless satin to my senior prom. after I took the pics I offered my diamond earrings to Tonja and she wore them! it made me feel really good. num.

You Hardly Remember Your Ex

You’re definitely not a psycho, and you probably don’t even think of your ex often. You’ve moved on, and your life is the better for it. Just remember to remember why the two of you did break up – so you don’t fall for him again!

I once actually transcribed a phone message onto a sheet of paper to this purpose. it was such a horrible lambaste that I wanted to keep it around in case I started to feel warm and fuzzy about this person again. I have it in a drawer and I run across it every now and then and think “wow.” I don’t want to look at it right now but I do remember the emphasized phrase, “you’re fucking VOLATILE!” I had to think it over when I heard that. am I? really, am I? you know what? I’m really not. I may be extremely sensitive but I have a really long fuse and take a lot of crap before I completely blow.

in the movie Ironman, when he’s making the suit, Suicidal Tendencies’ “Institutionalized” is playing in the background. god, I love that song. I remember hearing it for the first time in Repo Man. “All I wanted was a pepsi, just one pepsi, and she wouldn’t give it to me… just one pepsi!”

I have no idea how these things relate, but they seem to in my mind.

I’m having a blissful morning. no particular reason. maybe it’s the rain. maybe it’s the lack of phone calls (nobody wants anything right now!). it doesn’t really matter, does it?

Where is Love, from Oliver

hard to heal
when every time you’re pressed and dressed
around the corner lurks
a blue-eyed Fagin

more cat pictures

my mother won’t answer my calls. truly, I have no idea why.
one of my children is hysterically sobbing… second time today. no good reason why.
the cat is tearing holes in my new (to me) furniture. I guess that’s what neurotic animals do.
I shut the door to the sobbing child’s room.
the crying has since escalated to a greater decibel.

I owe an email. I won’t likely be writing it this weekend.
but I’m thinking of you.
I need a drink.

I’ve been raped twice. there was a third attempt but I fought him off with the help of his roommate. the two actual rapes would likely be classified as “grey rape” though I don’t see the need to make that distinction. I don’t feel any shame about it as I didn’t do anything wrong. why should I hesitate to talk about something bad that happened to me that wasn’t my fault? I guess it’s a taboo so it’s supposed to be all hush hush. I don’t see the point of that.

in both cases I had female friends who knew about it and still remained “friends” with my rapists. one said, “well, he didn’t do anything to me.” they’re not my friends anymore but it took me a while to make that decision. I guess that’s my only point of shame in the whole thing.

I’m not really afraid of rape anymore, per se: it’s just one of the many bad things that can happen to a person. I’m no more afraid of being raped than I am of being hit by a bus, for example. if it happens, I’ll deal with it.

from pbs.org:
A woman’s worst nightmare? That’s pretty easy. Novelist Margaret Atwood writes that when she asked a male friend why men feel threatened by women, he answered, “They are afraid women will laugh at them.” When she asked a group of women why they feel threatened by men, they said, “We’re afraid of being killed.”

I guess enough bad stuff has happened to me that I’m not really afraid of being killed either. to paraphrase Eleanor Roosevelt– no one can take your power without your consent.