I had a classic big ol’ Twitter fight with an insensitive fuckwit last night, who I haven’t blocked because I’m not in Grade 5 anymore, but it basically came down to me saying, “No, I’m not coming out because I need some time to myself.”
Long story short: I’ve been up at 5 the last four days, have worked in four days what I usually work in 5, still have to work today, am trying to get back onto a fitness regime & healthy diet, and have slept far too little all week. Add to that that today I should get my period and was therefore a grumpy cunt last night, plus I worked 10 hours during the day on a very mentally-draining couple of projects, then, yes… I thought staying home was a good plan.
Asshat, however, thought he should keep pressuring me on Twitter to come out. I kept saying no, then got more forceful about it. Asshat finally got the point. I said “Toldja,” and asshat got offended that I was such a smug bitch about it.
Oh. So, you, in your insensitive and fuckish way, get to bang a drum that’s totally self-serving, because your cock somehow seems to think it’s necessary I attend a party, but when I bang any kind of a drum, I’m suddenly a cunt. Uh-huh. Ass. Continue reading
Monthly Archives: November 2009
Sexual Addiction? My Thoughts.
Sex addiction — which includes addiction to cybersex and porn — is one of the fastest, most destructive addictions on the rise out there.
Unfortunately, the discussion? It’s a joke. It’s always along the lines David Duchovny or Bill Clinton wisecracks. People fail to see that the nature of sex addiction is to destroy every relationship the addict has. It steals the addict from life, costs them friends and families, it shatters the respect others may have had for them, and instills a self-loathing of the lowest kind.
I remember captioning a television show (my day job) about cybersex addiction, for instance, where they stated simple cybersex/porn addictions could be fatal — cases had occurred where an addict remained seated, wrapped up in the porn/cybersex before them, for so many hours, that blood clots and cardiac events killed them. I’d never even considered that possibility. Continue reading
The Relationship-Saving iPhone App
If there’s anything I love about my iPhone, it’s that I’m starting to be able to micromanage my life.
There’s an app for everything!
Like iPeriod.
Men, before you go “ACK, NO, NOT PERIOD TALK” — think about the brilliance here. AN EARLY WARNING SYSTEM. A bitchy-factor crystal ball! All for you! You wanted it… they invented it.
Continue reading
"Hope" Ain't a Four-Letter Word No Mo'
Shit, man, it’s over! The loan from hell! It’s OVER.
I has a shiny new loan. With mo’ money, fully consolidated debt, but much lower payments, but only adding 18 months on. Insane! With it, a new lease on life.
I’m not gonna be all moneybags all of a sudden. No. The only outward sign of change will be a new image, a new look, a new wardrobe — but still on the cheap. It’s about getting ahead now, not just treading water and trying to stay on the surface, but also embracing life in the small ways it’s now available to me. Continue reading
"YOU'RE APPROVED!" Now, Sign Your Life Away.
I went to the bank Saturday. I told them to give me money. I fucked up my last loan, and my loans officer fucked it up even worse. It was a partial-debt-consolidation loan where the banker didn’t make my overdraft go poof. No sense consolidating debt if you’re continuing to live in your overdraft. Pity this occurred to me too late.
It was badly executed from the get-go.* I was medicated out of my mind for my back injury at the time, I didn’t talk enough with my brilliant friends, I didn’t have a good enough plan, and I didn’t even feel entitled to borrow money from an institution — as if them giving me money was some humanitarian act instead of their BUSINESS.
I’ve been literally paying for my mistakes every day since, and instead of resigning myself to the hell of trying to dig out from under an avalanche of STUPID, I’m finally trying to right those wrongs in a here-and-now way that lets me finally move past the hardest period of my life.
Tomorrow, I find out. Continue reading
A Smattering: Morning Topics & A Cup of Joe
I have a cup of coffee left, and I’m willing to ignore it for your sake. I don’t really know what to write about specifically, as my mind is kind of the proverbial whirlwind. Let’s just have a potpourri session, shall we, with a little here and there? Continue reading
Mindfucks: $1.75 and Yer Good To Blow
After all the drama of yesterday’s posting, I weighed myself, and I’m exactly where I was 3 weeks ago, which is at a 7-pound gain after losing 72 pounds. But I have less muscle tone, though.
And I now remember washing a load of clothes on hot. Oops. Continue reading
Choosing Success
I’m having one of those honest-with-myself days. They’re never very much fun, are they?
I’ve been getting increasingly stressed out about several areas of my life, just because it’s coming down to the crunch and probably also because I’m incredibly skilled at making things more difficult than they need to be.
As a result, I’ve had sort of the perfect emotional storm that every recovering fatty wants to avoid. I know, all too well, that I’m an Emotional Eater. I nearly got to 300 pounds because I can be a very emotional girl, apparently. Continue reading
The New Normal
I knew I was PMSing Friday morning. I was prepared for a shitty day. Got what I was expected, with the added bonus at the end — of finding out my father has prostate cancer.
I know, everyone’s sorry, everyone hopes he’ll pull through. Thank you. Let’s not all say it, though. I’ve been to The Cancer Dance before. It ended badly.* I know there have been advances. I know it’s a different time. I know it’s probably an early diagnosis. But I know cancer.
And I know two more things: I know what I’m made of, and I know it’s out of my hands. Continue reading