| Long time no blog |
| 04.17.05 (7:50 pm) |
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Yes, it's been a while. Life has been....life-ish. The short of it is--I'm getting married in 48 days, I'm graduating in 2 weeks, I'm leaving the country in 2 months, and I'm having my wisdom teeth removed tomorrow. Yes, the last part makes me cringe also. But my darlingsweethoneyman is driving all the way down from Orlando to watch my head swell. Ah love. |
| 0 Comments |
| "U of T"ease me |
| 12.13.04 (9:46 pm) |
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I might not hear back from the University of Toronto about my application until the end of March. Can I explain to you how excruciating that idea is? No. I can't. Not without serious damage to your Achilles tendon.
3.5 months. Oh my god. |
| 1 Comments |
| Blue Moon |
| 12.12.04 (9:41 pm) |
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Tonight's topic is the moon. I have a library patron who has called me 3 times tonight to ask if the crescent moon has been spotted in Isreal yet. The answer, for all of you eager beavers chomping at the bit for trivia...nope. But it has been spotted in Arizona. See...
It would seem that my friend cannot take a religious holiday tomorrow, and will unfortunately have to report to work. Sorry hun. You see, she follows a particular type of Christianity where all religious holidays...and all other days for that matter...are based on a lunar calendar. But not a predicted lunar calendar, on actual lunar sightings. Pretty exciting if you ask me. You'd never quite know when Christmas is coming. Along with some Christians, some Muslims and Jews also watch the moon eagerly to make note of holidays, fasts, etc. Anyhow..all of this talk got me to thinking about the moon. Not in the religious sense...but in the astronomy/astrology sense. I think that horoscopes are hogwash. My horoscope for Dec. 12th was, "You will find out something about your family history from a relative or old family friend. Investigate further and you will understand why you are attracted to certain people and places." Hogwash, I can honestly tell you. The only thing I found out about my family today was that they're picking me up saturday morning at 11. But I do think the moon has certain powers...even if it doesn't enable certain websites to tell me how I did on my finals. We know that the moon effects the tide. But I can't help but notice other things it effects. I feel absolutely loopy on a full moon. No odd hair growth or violent carnivorous tendencies, but I feel off. Usually I feel overwhelmed, slightly reeling with one emotion or another. But on the new moon, I feel an almost complete lack of emotion. Today, for instance, should have been an emotional day for me. My fiance and my roommate both unburthened huge problems onto my conscience, and I spent the whole day being compassionate. That should be making me feel...something. These two observations, which you can take or leave, have been made over many full and new moons. I know this because when I remark to a colleague, "Gee, I feel _____ today." He or she will often say, "blame it on the moon, haha." So I've fallen into a habit of checking the moon when I get into one of these specific moods. So am I ready to acept astrology and tarot card reading for the fine tuned science it may be? Nope. Hogwash. But there is something with the moon. And perhaps people who live by the lunar calendar have the right idea. It would be an easy enough calendar, just look up and see where you are in the schedule. And, not to sound pro-femme, but the lunar calendar makes sense for women. If I followed the lunar calendar my cycle would start on the same date each time, that'd be a relief. And if there is something to this moon mood thing, perhaps my moods wouldn't be such a mystery. Who knows...maybe women wouldn't be so mysterious if men studied the moon phases more? (Is there some truth in our being, "inconstent as the moon?") If you've made it thus far, what are your thoughts? I'll summarize: 1) If you are of a religion that follows the lunar cycle, please comment! What are your thoughts on this practice? 2) If you are not of said religion, what do you think: Lunar calendar vs Roman calendar. 3) Have you ever noticed mood changes coinciding with certain moon phases? 4) Do you go in for horoscopes? To what extent? On what do you base this opinion. As usual, thank you for sharing. -Jo |
| 3 Comments |
| Thick |
| 12.05.04 (7:34 pm) |
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The library is thick with people tonight, and library patrons can be thick in more ways than one, so this is the first time since 9 that I have been able to sit down. Phew. 3 out of 5 term papers done..but who wants to hear about term papers, I mean really... I went to the store today...or rather several stores...to find a small affordable Christmas tree and decorations. It seems I wasn't the only one looking for a small tree; all of the stores were sold out of every tree except the gargantuan 8 foot spruce (I've always like that word, gargantuan, I so seldom get the opportunity to use it in a sentence). After several hours of wading through seas of unhappy children and incredibly slow moving shopping carts I made my snow-bird-traffic-ridden way home and began setting up the tree. After searching eight stores, I found and bought film for my poloroid Izone at Target. When I got home I found out that this film was for the new Izone, not mine. I had just spend several excruciating hours in holiday foot and road traffic looking for this film. I walked to my room, shut the door (not wanting to alarm the roommate) and cried heartily with frustration. Feeling better, I came back out and set up the tree. This tree, all done up with colored lights and a string or two of garland, still looked a bit bare, no ornaments. You see, I had this idea of using the Izone to take little pictures of my roommate, her girlfriend, my fiance, the cats, and I and use the pictures as ornaments. Yes. You would have cried too. So, I decided to make up for the lack of ornaments by making popcorn garland. 2 hours later I had popped some corn, strung it on some thread, and draped it around the tree. Just in time to go to work. Now that I'm sitting down, now that I'll see Tim in 1.5 hours, now that I'm thinking back of my homie Christmas decorations...I'm glad I spent the time, effort, and money on it. Yes, I'll regret spending money on silly decorations when I'm making my january credit card payment. But right now I'm happy. I won't see Tim until after Christmas. And I won't even be home for Christmas, I'll be in Costa Rica with the parents (I know, I shouldn't whine when I say that...but all I ever do is rush, and now we're taking a rushed vacation. Lovely). But between now and December 17th...and the week of December 27th, when I'm with Tim at my house...I'll really enjoy those decorations. Christmas used to be about religion for me. Now it's not. It used to be about family, it still is...but Tim is my family now...so where does that leave me? Right now Christmas for me is about Thanksgiving. No, not turkey day, actual "giving of thanks." It's about spending several hours looking for a shitty plastic tree and spending too much money on plastic decorations and spending too much time stringing up popcorn.... So that I can be grateful that I live in a country where these are my complaints. I'm thankful for my plastic tree. I'm grateful for the redlights that make my trip home take twice as long (ok, I'm really not, but I'm trying to be). I'm grateful for my family and fiance even though right now I'm far from all of them. When I let myself admit it, I'm even grateful for the stress of exams and term papers because that stress reminds me that I have the priveledge of a good education. Merry Christmas |
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| Schoolwork, stress, and sexual sin |
| 12.01.04 (5:31 pm) |
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I spent the majority of my day sawing my legg off with a rusty spatula.
Just kidding...I spent it doing something much more tedious, writing one of my final papers. Now that this one is out of the way I have four to go....that's about four days of bone sawing excitement. Well, only three days after tonight. Because I'm going to finish one more before I call it quits for the day. After typing my first of five term papers today, I practiced some deep breathing in the tub to prepare myself for the next one. While I was exhaling deeply into my Summer's Eve for Sensitive Skin bubbles, I thought to myself, "If I love literature so much, why do I hate writing these papers? Does this mean I'm doomed to fail as a student of English literature?" After worrying about this for a little while, I remembered remarks made my several of my professors about how much they hated undergraduate assignments. Why? Why do we hate these assignments? Well, some of them are just bad assignments. Some professors give painfully dull assignments in hopes that we'll give up and stop trying to be English majors. But mostly it's the deadline aspect. It's having five such papers to write in the scope of one week while going to class, studying for exams, and working a night job. Also, it's the page requirement. It's hard to be inspired while one worrying about word count. Also, it's the fact that the assignments are graded. Nothing graded is fun. Finally, it's the fact that we HAVE to do it. I've written lots of great essays that I wasn't required to write. And I enjoyed them much more than I enjoy my current bone saw papers. ------------------------- ------------------------- --- In other events, I called my soon-to-be-father-in-law tonight. It was one of those rare moments when I happened to be in my car with my phone while I knew he was home and available to talk. This never happens, so I called to say hi. He's stressed about moving his doctor's practice to a new location and trying to switch all his patients to a new doctor so he can move back to Canada. We chatted about a few things, my transexual roommate being one of them, and I discovered for the first time his attitude towards sexual sin. I treaded carefully in these waters, assuming that my ideas on embracing sexual sin wouldn't fly with my religious father in law. I was right. When he said, "My problem with most hommosexuals is their promiscuity. While desiring someone of the same sex might be forgiveable, promiscuity is disgusting, and God, in his wisdom, punishes sexual sin," and later on, "If you behaved like most lesbians I know with regards to promiscuity, I wouldn't want you for a daughter in law. But we don't have that problem..." I knew I had to answer carefully. My reply to any other person in the world would be, "though I am very happy in my monogamous relationship, I have no problem (and even delight in) polyamory in others. The same kind of relationship won't fit everybody's needs. Tim and I are great as a monogamous couple, but many other couples are happier as swingers. Also, many people go through a stage, (or sometimes their entire life) preferring casual sex to deep relationships. As long as someone is careful to respect and protect their bodies and emotions and the bodies and emotions of the people they have sex with, I think promiscuity is great! These basic rules apply: Don't lie to your partner about anything (sexual history, current sexual partners, anything). Get your partner and yourself tested before any play happens. If your partner says, "I was just tested," ask to see the paperwork. Respect your partners boudaries and be firm about your own. Communication: talk about everything so each person knows where the other(s) stands on all issues that might come up in the relationship." Yeah...so basically I can't say this to my father in law. Maybe someday if I publish a book on the topic he'll find out what my view point is...but meanwhile I'll keep silent on this issue and focuss on developing a good relationship with him. He's an intelligent man, fun to talk to, always generous with wine, loves to play cards...basically any girls dream father in law. Why lose his blessing over one little opinion? He'll find out that I'm a heathen eventually, after I marry his son. ;)
-Jo |
| 0 Comments |
| Rich |
| 11.13.04 (9:15 pm) |
| Poor people often expostulate on the pros and cons that would come with unexpected richness. One place where it would really come in handy is with education. I rely on scholarships to pay for my education, and a job to pay for my living expenses (and parents to fill the gaps that I always stumble into). My scholarships require me to take 15 credits per semester, a minimum of 5 classes. My job requires 20 hours/week of my undivided attention. It is quite possible to excell at my job and in my schoolwork, but I feel I'm being short changed. I truly enjoy my studies and would love to devote more time to them. I get my reading done barely in time to write my papers under my current situation. The problem with this is that I have no time to digest and really think about what I'm reading. My papers end up formulaic and contain only what little inspiration I come up with in the few hours it takes me to write them. I would spend more time thinking about my subjects if I could...but I'm going to classes all day, working all night, and trying to read several hundred pages a day inbetween. I have excellent grades. But I'm paying $3000 a year for what? Grades? I want to be milking my education for all of the insight and personal development I can gather from it. I don't want to get my bachelors next semester thinking, "gee....I have nice grades." But in the end that's all it will mean to me. I don't plan on attending my graduation because I don't feel that I have anything to be excessively proud about. I showed up, did the work that was required of me, but didn't have the time or energy to really make that work my own. It's just a curriculum. Not knowledge. |
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| My Prayer Answered |
| 11.08.04 (12:12 am) |
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Well the prayer must have worked because it's 5am, my paper is finished, and I'm Euphoric. Why the glee? It could be a gift from the Gods that I wrote my snide little prayer to....but that sort of reverrence isn't likely to provoke charity in any ancient of days being. More likely it's a combination of accomplishment (acheiving a task I wanted as much as I want a root canal), the cooler weather (always refreshing, and since it's so rare always brings back favorite cool weather memories like falling in love for the first time and failing all my classes in wild abandon), listening to Dashboard Confessional (Yes, he's awful, can't sing worth a dime, but it's my PMS cd...and it works), and the fact that I'm PMSing....which means manic insanity mixed with euphoric outbursts. At any rate I found myself flying down the highway at much over the speed limit daring the world to give me a 5am ticket, grinning and screaming (more like, whining loudly, as is the case) along with Chris Carraba's pissed off breakups, thinking of how lucky I am to be 22 and an English major in Hollywood Florida. Now all I need is my baby by my side...or rather inside of me. That would put the perfect finishing touch on my day. -Jo |
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| My Prayer |
| 11.07.04 (2:34 pm) |
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Oh Gods of academia, here the prayer of a devout follower. Ye mighty powers that deemed it wise for scholarship students to carry a burden of 15 credits (or more) per semester, give me strength. I have kept to the straight and narrow and sacrificed my weekends to contemplating your works. I have toiled with Wordsworth and Congreve. I've disected the good words of Chaucer and built a shrine to the eternal chain of being. I have fought and conquered mighty procrastination and have not yielded to temptation when desires of the flesh and pocketbook tried to pry me from my devotions. I come to you on my knees asking for strength and wakefulness, oh Gods. I have done your work 14 hours per day this weekend and my eyelids are heavy with the temptation of seductive sleep. Give me the spririt of strength and energy to finish this one paper tonight. To write this last ode before giving into sleep. Let not the influences of chat or hobby detain me from accomplishing your great work. But keep me steadfast in my duty. Amen |
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| BushLover |
| 11.04.04 (5:42 pm) |
| I just adore people who say vicious things and disable the comment box in their blogs. |
| 9 Comments |
| Poll |
| 11.04.04 (5:28 pm) |
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For those of you who voted for Bush. Are you opposed to Gay marriage? If yes, is it for religious reasons, or non-religious moral reasons? Further comments/opinions welcome.
-Jolene |
| 8 Comments |
| A Dream Vision |
| 10.16.04 (2:11 am) |
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A Dream Vision I was sitting in a yellow room with windows that looked out over nothing and a ceiling made of grass. I was humming hymns and thinking of him I love with my eyes partly closed. Thus seated and thinking of him I love, my mind placed an egg in front of me that was speckled sky blue. The egg made me smile and bounce, being sad before because he was sad and far away. I saw through a clear pane in the egg that it was full of my love for him and pictures of midnight picnics on sunny isles and late afternoon naps. My heart bounced bounced inside me as the egg bounced bounced in front of me so I walked over to a window and let the egg out. With a final bounce the egg was gone, a small shimmering sphere on the horizon. I went back to my place in the middle of the canary room and hummed once more with thoughts of him whom I hoped to have with me soon until I felt him smile unexpectedly. This accomplished, I took a nap on the celing. |
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| And miles to go before I sleep. |
| 10.07.04 (11:09 pm) |
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I thought of writing about how much I'm enjoying this semester. How challenging but rewarding my Chaucer class is. How I'm rediscovering Blake in Romanticism. How much I admire Dickens' incredible writing style...etc etc. etc. But it's thursday night and I'm deliriously tired. I feel like my bone marrow has been replaced with mercury. I fully realise the implications of the phrase "bone aching tired." As thrilling as this semester is, right now I feel like laying down and sleeping (in a ditch, if need be) for a hundred years. "But I've got promises to keep And miles to go before I sleep And miles to go before I sleep." |
| 2 Comments |
| More thoughts on religion, philosophy, &c.: |
| 09.21.04 (5:31 pm) |
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Once again I’ve come away from a conversation with Lisa with that feeling I get from a good book. It’s good to be alive and fresh and young and explorative. It’s good to reel and wonder at the many complexities and marvels of life. Of the many things we touched on, Lisa brought up personalities and learning/acheiving styles. Her mother, she says, reads everything she gets her hands on, interprets it, analyzes it, and absorbs it with alarming speed and ability. Numerology, religion, classic works of literature, even hands-on activities like gardening—everything her mother touches seems to turn into a successfully executed project. She’s always busy and has a “let’s get this done, now!” attitude. Lisa wonders that she didn’t inherit this attitude. This line of conversation led us into a discussion of attitudes towards the busy work of life. Lisa said that she has interests and passions, and wants to do her part to change the world for the better. But she spends the vast majority of her time cultivating relationships with friends and family, as well as traveling the world. Certainly there are more idle ways for her to spend her time. She isn’t lazy. But while she wants to accomplish the necessary tasks of life, she seldom feels that urgency that her mother has to complete each task when it approaches. Many people spend decades trying to learn the lesson that “The sun will still shine tomorrow if I don’t _________ this once.” Whether it’s taking a sick day or putting off a date, many of us “workaholics” fear the end of the world less than missing a task. However Lisa feels that she is too far on the other side of the spectrum. She finds herself feeling melancholy and disappointed when it has been months and the task is still not done. This goes beyond procrastination for her. A procrastinator usually feels the urgency of the task and it is often that urgency that makes him/her put it off…it’s just too urgent to think of at this moment, so he/she thinks of it later. For my friend it is a general mindset that she feels she has lapsed into. Though she is very happy with her life, she desires to have that edge that her mother has so she can be a “productive” person who is accomplishing something tangible. I’m fascinated by this because I used to identify with Lisa and now I identify more with her mother. Did I change willingly? No. Over the past three years I’ve evolved in my philosophy, religion, and attitudes almost daily. I used to be content and peaceful (blissful even) with events in my life. I knew that God was in charge of everything and he took care of everything, so I never worried. I was a procrastinator because everything always seemed to work out eventually. I was messy because I could always clean up on the weekends. Now I clean obsessively. I get everything done on time or beforehand or risk going insane with the mental anguish of failing to do something properly and on time. The world to me is a swirling cacophonous din of chaos that I struggle to organize and tame like a type of pac-man, fearful that the bad guys (deadlines) will bite me in the ass and make me lose the game. This change has its good and bad points. I’m a very anxious person now. I have what doctors like to call panic attacks from time to time. I can get so anxious from a conversation gone wrong or a task not completed that I cry and sweat for hours. This sounds serious…but if I keep my life balanced, it is completely controllable. I balance my life by getting my tasks done thoroughly, early or on time. I balance by keeping my home (my sanctuary) clean and organized; by making extensive lists and rewriting them daily. My curse of uneasiness and stress comes with the blessing of my being ten times more productive and reliable than I used to be. But this I’ve known for a while…yes I changed. We sometimes do. But why? For the first time tonight I wondered if it could be at least partly because of my change in religion; my separation from Christianity. Without God watching over everything, I am suddenly in charge of destiny. (not that I’m a complete atheist, just a confused agnostic) What a charge! Suddenly my life is not in a supreme all-knowing and all-loving God’s hands, but in my own cold, clammy, shaking hands. I didn’t think about this until tonight; I never felt a link between my constant confusion over God (after my crisis of faith) and my constant anxiety towards life and its tasks. So if anyone has read my blog up to this point, (Bless your patience!) please answer for me one or a few questions in response. 1) & nbsp; Is it any less dangerous to be a workaholic than a slouch? (pardon the terms…no offense meant to workaholics or slouches) 2) & nbsp; Do you identify with Lisa or her Mother? Do you consider this a hurtful or a helpful thing to your productivity? Personal sanity. Relationships? &c. 3) & nbsp; Do you find that your religion affects your attitude towards accomplishing everyday tasks in life? 4) & nbsp; Have you undergone a change of faith that affected your everyday outlook on life? Details? 5) & nbsp; All other comments are, of course, welcome and appreciated. |
| 4 Comments |
| Feng Shui |
| 09.16.04 (5:23 pm) |
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I didn't go to class today. Sick day. I decided to use the time wisely, so instead of resting up I did yard work, cleaned, and reorganized my (shared) house. Karen won't be back for a few months and she told me to do whatever I want with the house. Woohoo! I jumped into it around noon and eight hours lated the yard work was done, the house was clean and organized, candles lit, and a stick of nag champa was working it's magic while I experimented with making Thai food. I can feel God in a clean house. |
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| Limmerick |
| 09.16.04 (5:14 pm) |
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There once was a girl counting sheep. And all that she wanted was sleep. She worked all night long And held fast and held strong Until into her bed she could creep. |
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| Me? God? Who? |
| 09.09.04 (7:28 pm) |
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I just had an interesting conversation with one of my favorite library patrons about God. He's currently doing some research involving God and sexuality. As I often do during conversations like these, I thought to myself, "hmm, where do I stand with the whole God thing these days?" It's been about a week since I last asked myself this question, and the answer is still the same. I'm waiting. I'm experiencing. For those of you who don't know I was raised in a non-religious household and rebelled against my pessimistically atheist father by becoming a staunch Christian. The exsistence of God has always been a given for me. My rational side says complicated beings must have a creator just as complicated computer programs do. My romantic side wants to believe in fate and a caring God. I had a wonderful period of Christianity for about ten years of my life (about age 8 to 18). During this time I can't describe how dedicated I was to my religion. I thought of my creator with every breath and was an extremely active member of my church. I prayed for roughly 4 hours a day all throughout high school. When I got to college I began taking classes where discussions were had about other religions and cultures. I learned to my horror that I felt tremendous guilt over simply learning about these cultures. I was also changing my mind on certain social issues (I became best friends with a gay man) and the guilt trippled. I decided to take a break from religion altogether. For a few years I feared God...but not in the way God fearing Christians do. The tremendous guilt I felt over my education and opinions (and sexual sin...might as well throw in that I started having sex around this time) mingled with the voice in the back of my head telling me that since I believed this doctrine for ten years, it must be true-- and this had the effect of convincing me that God would punish me at any moment. I might be hit by a car and sent straight to hell before sunset on any given day. Odly enough, it was a sexual relationship that eased my mind about God. After being dumped by my second boyfriend and first true love, I started having "comfort sex" with a friend of mine whom I cared for deeply. This person came from the same hard core Christian roots as I had and had also strayed from the church. In addition doubt and sexual sin, we can add Budhism to his list of sins against Christianity. However my friend didn't feel any guilt over this. For the first time in two years I was able to reminisce about my lovely golden days of Christianity with someone withough feeling guilty. We also talked often about religion and philosophy. Over time, through conversations with this friend of mine and a lot of soul searching I decided that God wasn't furious with me. Furthermore, I came to believe that God himself had given me doubts about my religion in order to get me to experience...something...I'm not sure what...so that he could teach me something from experience. When I was younger I thought I had all the answers and I never swayed from my blind faith. I believe God wanted me to loosen up so that he could show me something. It does smack of fate...I fell in love with God...and then "fell" to sin..and then sin led me back to God. The friend of mine and I, as a side point, are now engaged to be married. I still believe in God, but am undecided about Christianity as a religion. I go to different Christian churches when I have time and I also listen to anyone who has an opinion on God (of any religion). But I don't believe now is the time for me to know anything specific about God. I think that God exsists, that he is good, and that I can learn about him by studying what is good in my fellow humans. I am avoiding "religion" right now because I see so many bad things in humans associated with it. So I'm waiting. I'm thinking and experiencing. And I don't think God is preparing to send me to hell for leaving the Christian church. I think he's making me learn patience (something I've never been good at) and taking the time to show me something about himself through experience. 2cents -Jolene |
| 2 Comments |
| bleed, damn you. |
| 09.04.04 (9:25 pm) |
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I have just finished a great book. And now I lie here flattened against my bed with fear and wonder. Fear not of the enormity of the storm that is engulfing Florida right now, but of the enormity of life and it's rushing possibilities and ideas and challenges and failures or successes that that threaten to engulf and drown me. Life seems so short and simple but then one single instance of only a few minutes can be extremely complicated. And if I think of how many minutes I've lived and how many are likely more to come life can seem extremely complicated. All of this is my reaction to one book, and a work of modern fiction at that. I am a great enthusiast. A good book or deep conversation can fill me with the cold restless fire that reminds me what being alive is and why I like it. I suddenly pine for action and accomplishment and robust physical activity. I want to join the hurricane outiside and see who can howl louder. Yes, I'm a great enthusiast...but is that all? Conversations don't sell. I tell great stories. I don't mean to. I can't if I try. But when I'm not trying people stare at me with electricity in their eyes and swear that they'll read "everything you ever write!" But can I? I can't tell stories on demand, so how then am I to write stories on demand? Is there money, or if not, even importance in being an enthusiast? I don't want fortune (well, maybe a little, yeah). I don't want fame. I want importance. I want to feel that I accomplished something that sets me apart. I want pride that has a basis in reality and not the Gap. I want to make people feel what I feel after reading a great book. I want to write that book. But more, I want the ability to do that consistantly and live off of it. To make enough money to live but also to have a skill breathes and generates life and keeps me alive and enlivens others. Goddammit I want to be a writer. I'm in college, studying writers. Should this be so fucking hard to accomplish? I only want to make your heart bleed on command. |
| 5 Comments |
| Nuts & Canes |
| 09.04.04 (4:10 pm) |
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So much going on and so little to say about it. In fact, the only reason I'm typing this entry is that I feel bad paying for a blog and not writing in it. So let's see what's going on: Fat Francis is heading towards my county :( But she's only a week cat. 2 storm now :D School has started and I absolutely love all my classes :lol: Although the work load may kill me :? I'm working the night shift again and I love it :D And my new house is awesome :) But there's something wrong with my stomach :( And one of my cats is sick :cry: But evacuating from Broward county means I'm visiting my parents :) And I did I mention I'm reading The Canterbury Tales in the original Middle English? :D And hey, I got the Bahama shutters at my house put up/down all by myself! :D Well, the wasps who were hiding in them encouraged my being swift, so they get some of the credit. :shock: So let's see...It looks like the :D 's have it. So life is good. Now all I need is a winning lottery ticket and for george w. to get stung in the nuts by a bee and things would be perfect. Have a happy hurricane day everyone! -Jolene |
| 0 Comments |
| Medicine VS Me |
| 08.17.04 (11:03 am) |
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This entry isn't written for the sake of my memory or your entertainment. It's here so I can organize my thoughts. My panic attacks...if that's what they are (still not sure, but that's what the doctor I don't like called them) are continuing and with increasing frequency. I'm not trying to be upset or irritable. But I often find myself in these moods where I'm upset to the point of throwing up. I'm not upset enough to be suicidal when I'm in these moods, but then again I've never had one while looking over the Grand Canyon either. I usually feel extremely paranoid (everyone hates me...my family can't stand me...etc). And I go back and forth thinking (a) I'm insane and (b) I'm a drama queen/hypochondriac and it's all in my imagination. I think I can handle these moments. But since Tim left they've been happening quite frequently and in between I have many shaky moments of being nervous/anxious/upset on a lower level for extended periods of time. The panic attacks themselves only last about 2-4 hours. Also, I've had an upset stomach for the past three weeks. I haven't been eating much lately because of it. Sometimes when I make myself eat I throw up almost immediately afterwards. I've been living on peopto bismol and similar products, but I feel cruddy. The main problem is one of doctors. I don't really trust my current doctor. I think she's a pill pusher. I think she just wants to give me paxil or zoloft whether I need it or not. Tim's dad knows more than anyone else around about stomachs (they're his specialty as a doctor) but....it's Tim's dad. My future father in law. I don't want to ask him for advice when it involves me informing him that I have emotional problems. So...what to do....argh. |
| 2 Comments |
| Sigh of Contentment |
| 08.15.04 (3:15 pm) |
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Last night's party was wonderful, just lovely. A little akward at first, though. This was my first time getting ready at (boy name)'s house with my friends. I usually get ready at my own place and meet everyone at the party, and then go my separate way with (lover's name) while they hang out. This time, not only was I walking around pretty much naked at (boy name)'s house, I was spending a lot more time with my friend's at the party because I didn't want to go off on my own without my darling there. So....for my memory and future reading pleasure....the details: I no longer felt akward once stepped in the door. The door man was sweet and curteous as he always is. We dropped our things off in the coat room and moved as a group upstairs. A few of us danced for a while and I decided to go say hello to Uncle Eric, my favorite dom. I wasn't planning on requiring his services right away, then it seemed like a good idea. THere wasn't anybody waiting their turn, I was nice and sober, and I could take my time since it was early. I feel guilty when I make people wait to have fun. Uncle Eric started of with something lovely and soft made of feathers and soon progressed to his floggers. He worked my back, front, feet...well, everywhere, with his usual expertise. As usual, it was AMAZING. I cooed and gigled and screamed and struggled not to fall down. I won't add in all of the details of this scene because it would be repetative. At one point he used my wooden spatula (a favorite of mine, I brought it with me) and that was just awesome. Since I brought my handy-dandy vibrator with me I finished myself off in the lady's room after his assistant walked me over. It know this sounds odd, but after the huge adrenaline rush of a good flogging, my legs shake and it's hard to walk....I'm never in pain..I don't do pain...but this odd drunken orgasmic high takes over. Anyhow...I was so grateful to Uncle Eric that I hugged his boots....what a great guy. Oh, by the way...my outfit. I wore a flesh colored thong, a tool belt full of my favorite toys, safety goggles, and smudges (you know, from "working" in the garage). Shea wore a lovely sparkling black gown. (girl name) and the rest of the girls were done up in a variety of picturesque corsets. I met quite a few lovely pair of breasts at the party. One of them belonged to a woman with thre slaves attatched. I got well accquianted with her lovely soft breasts while her slaves massaged and kissed her. I rant into (girl name) and she was adorable as usual. Everything was really lovely. I spent much of the night dancing with various friends of mine. Some of my friends are rather vanilla and hadn't come to one of these, or seen me at Uncle Eric's table before. They were a little shocked. It will be interesting to see if they mention this or act differently around me in the future. I don't mind...as long as they know not to tell the whole world what happens. You may notice I hide any names that are not play names when I write about these parties. Fetish Parties are like Vegas....what happens there stays there...at least as far as individual people are concerned. |
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| From tears to cheers: Learning independence |
| 08.11.04 (4:14 pm) |
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The light of my life, after spending 90 consecutive days in my company, left for Orlando two days ago. He'll be there for nine months working for the Orlando Shakespeare Festival. I spent those 90 days cherishing his company and dreading his departure, but also urging him towards the smart career move. I was encouraging his leaving for another reason besides his career. A year and a half ago I went a little nuts and was terrified of, well, pretty much everything. My doctor said something about panic attacks, anxiety, depression, etc, and put me on Paxil. I hated the medication, as the side effects were difficult. But it did the job and I balanced out emotionally. I was glad to give up the medication at the end of my six month trial period. Shortly after stopping, the moments my doctor called "panic attacks" returned with some regularity and I was definately what some might call overly emotional. But I hated Paxil. I still hate Paxil. Among other things, it prevents you from orgasming. It also upsets my stomach. I disagree with my doctor. I don't think I have an emotional "disease" that keeps me from functioning. I think that I am a much more emotional person than the average Joe, but I can deal with this. Yes, panic attacks are upsetting/depressing/real ly not fun. But I can usually tell when I'm going to get one within a few days and I plan accordingly. I stay home alone to scream at my walls. So...my love going to Orlando... I want to gain my independence. Not in the "we're through" sense, I just want to prove to myself that I can cope and be happy alone without him around to hold my hand. I have been depending on him for the past year so that I would never have to go to the grocery store, a restaurant, or in a car, alone. I've been using him as a crutch for happy feelings, and I need to get over this and get my happiness apart from him because it's not fair for either of us if I'm dependent on him for my happiness. I have learned how to drive recently and am making my one hour commute alone. I'm getting ready to move into a two bedroom house with a friend of mine (who will be out of town most of the year, unfortunately). All in all, I'm doing well. But then again...it's only my second day. Wish me luck. :) -Jolene PS: Yoga and our two cats have been my favorite and most effective...erm...medications lately. Practicing yoga feels like an emotional tune up for me and the kitties are making sure I get plenty of affection. ;) |
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| Dumbfounded |
| 08.06.04 (11:29 am) |
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I realize I'm not the most politically savvy person in South FL. I Pay close attention to the Presidential Election (and related issues), and I take part in local politics by researching the issues local candidates stand for before casting my vote. So, this is all to say....I don't really pay attention to local/state government issues in other states. That said, I was quite shocked to see the title, "Unabashed racist wins congressional GOP primary in Tenn." on the front of the paper this morning. I (perhaps naievely) assume that most U.S. citizens are not racist, and I've always hoped that enough level headed people pay attention to politics to keep confirmed active racists out of power. Well, that was my hope anyway. After reading a Miami Hearald article about James L. Hart I was sure that there were some exaggerations. I thought incredulously, "Labeling certain races as "unfavored"? Keeping people from reproducing? Stopping immigration alltogether? Come on! NOBODY is that evil, or stupid." I was wrong again. I went to the webpage for Hart's campaign and even checked out his book at the library. Oh my God. I knew people like this still exsisted...but I didn't think enough of them were around and kicking to influence federal politics. Hmm. Yesterday I wondered how someone who doesn't own a huge corporation that's receiving tax benefits to polute the environment could support Bush with a clear conscience. Now...now I don't know what to wonder. I wish I could take a poll. An accurate one. I wish I could realistically determine how many U.S. citezens: 1) are racist 2) think that gays should be refused to marry because the Bible says so 3) don't realize that the morning after pill prevents abortions 4) Don't mind the fact that the average ocean tuna sold in at the grocery store contains high levels of mercury because of ocean polution. (mercury, by the way, is bad for you....[understatement]) Huh...I don't understand....a lot of things I guess. For those of you who have actually read this blog entry entirely, I apologize for the disjointed manor in which I've presented it. -Jolene |
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| I Hear About Dead People |
| 08.03.04 (3:21 pm) |
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The third guest on the Dianne Rheme show today was incredible. She's a fairly young woman with a beautiful lilting voice who examines unidentified skeletons for a living. Yeah, I know what you mean....that's what I said. She said when she's working on a corpse she actually feels elated because she knows she's helping the victim's family by letting them know what happened to him/her. She usually works in mass graves, and is stationed right now in Rowana. While we're on the topic of dead people, Dan Savages column came out today. It was also about dead people. One of his readers has a "play dead" fetish. Two dead people incidents. Huh. Oh, wait...now that I think about it, Tim came into the kitchen this morning when I was making tea and started singing "Delia." Why is that so odd, you ask? The song is about a guy who killed his wife. Huh...coincedence? Or am I just paying more attention to death referrences lately...? I wonder what could spawn a sudden preoccupation with death? Ah, there it is...of course. My car. I am a car owner, have been one for 72 hours now. I drive. Alone. In my car. It's lovely. It's cute as a button, and bright red. A 1993 Toyota Celica. Little sports car. Old, yes...but it runs superbly! My car and I are getting along fine. However, the other cars on the road aren't as lovely as my little Celica. I was cut off 6 times today and was almost sideswiped once. I saw 7 people run red lights, and 4 go through a stop sign without stopping. To add insult to injury, I was at 2 four-way stops and both times someone went when it wasn't their turn. People in South Florida can't drive. Up until a month or two ago, I couldn't drive. Do you know what the difference was between me and everyone on the road? I knew I couldn't drive...so I stayed off the road until I knew how. Oh well, whaddya do...right? I mean...it's not like I can avoid driving. And drivers in my town aren't getting any better. Perhaps I should avoid the whole mess around rush hour tomorrow and go for a movie. You know...like Sixth Sense or The Body Snatchers or something... |
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| A Spend Thrift Turns Stooge |
| 07.31.04 (11:26 am) |
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An ode to buying my first car and car insurance policy: I’m regretting every penny I’ve ever spent on anything. I’m regretting every penny Every placed in my hand. I’m regretting every nickel I have ever thrown away. I’m regretting every nickel Ever spent on a man. I’m regretting every small dime Not saved for a rainy day. I’m regretting every 10 cents Spent on something grand. I’m regretting every quarter Taken from my piggy bank. I’m regretting every quarter Spent on aluminum cans. I’m regretting every dollar That has ever slipped away. I’m regretting every dollar Because of these demands. I’m regretting every fiver Spent on facial scrubs of clay. I’m regretting every fiver Now I need a hand. |
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| Home is Where the Heart is |
| 07.16.04 (7:22 pm) |
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I love my life. I just had an orgasmic conversation with my roomate Lisa, followed by an equally amazing conversation with Mom. Tim and I are so happy. I have amazing roomates, friends, family. A great job, great professors, and the world in front of me waiting for me to leave my mark. I dedicate this entry to Home. ------------------------- ------------------------- ------------ I'm homesick. I don't miss the boat specifically. It's been years since we've had the boat. I've lived in two houses, three dorm rooms, and one apartment since we moved. But the boat was the only place I've honestly called home. The house was a place I lived for a few years. These other places I've been in for a few months. Then I met Tim. Tim became my home. He asked for the privledge and I granted it. I cried when moving out of my last dorm because I felt nothing, no attatchment. He said, "let me be your home." Tim is leaving for 9 months. I'm homeless. I'm moving into a house with a friend of mine. The house is lovely with a huge back yard and lots of windows. The floors are oak and my room is decently sized. I'm taking some of my furniture and some of Tims to this new place. I'll be there with his cats. I need a home, since mine is leaving for 9 months. I will make this place my home. I'll decorate. I'll fill it with my stuff. I'll spray my perfume. I'll make love to my new home. I'll be there for only one year, but it's such an important and influential year. My year apart from Tim. My final year as an undergraduate. My undergrad thesis....the first big project of my professional life. My one year of personal growth and my trial before taking a new last name. My last year to myself as a single individual. A year to talk to God about the years to come. I will make this house a home. It's hard living without a home. Lisa, one of my three roomates, has never thought of this apartment as a home. Her room is the smallest. Cramped. Her bed is ugly and it squeaks. I've seen her cry and yell at her room, at this apartment. Her non-home. It's important to have a home. She and Tamar, one of my other roomates, are moving in together when our lease is up. Lisa came to me yesterday dreamily, telling me about an apartment she visited. It was cozy, newly remodeled, in a part of town she enjoys. She loves the layout. The price is right. There are a few drawbacks. Parking and space may be an issue as well as laundry. But the enthusiasm in her eyes was due to more than a nice layout. She is looking for a home. A "room to call her own" and to fall in love with. Home isn't where you live. It's where you want to be at the end of the week. It's your sanctuary. Lisa's home might be in this new apartment. It might be in another. Hopefully, she and Tamar will find a place they can both call home. My home once moved from the Florida Keys to the Bahamas. Now it moves from South Florida to Orlando. I will have to make a home for myself apart from him and be content in it. We will all have to learn to make a home when we're homesick. |
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