clichéd blog from a Portland Internet café

Xanga is apparently restricted on this server. Lately I've been blogging on a site I set up with Friends Lock, since the majority of what I write needs to stay hidden from my sister and Katy these days. Message me if you want my handle. Or maybe I'll start transferring some of those posts over here. I'm not sure.

I hate the fact that Erin and I aren't close anymore. I had to remove her as a Facebook friend just to stay sane. Whenever she has an issue with me, she can only approach me about it behind the anonymity of the Internet, in the form of pretentious Formspring questions or something. Maybe in the days of my old high school issues, I was too naive to hear the judgment and agenda in her voice.

So for the past month, I've been seeing someone great. We each have our fair share of issues, but everything's out on the table and we're both working to better ourselves. Lately I'm concerned that the physical intimacy is becoming greater than the emotional intimacy.

I read through a lot of his old Myspace blogs yesterday and I'm beginning to realize that the boy loves being in love and that I may just be perpetuating his pattern of wanting to be in a relationship after a year or so of recoup time. We definitely have more in common than not wanting to be single and fear of the future, but I'd be foolish to pretend that isn't an existing issue. We have vastly different relationship histories. He's a one-girl man who does these long term relationships.

Ever since getting my heart broken by a guy who had me wrapped around his finger, I had become this emotionally void fucking machine who takes everything men tell me in one ear and out the other, entering every new "relationship" with the unspoken knowledge that we're both using each other. I've known far too many women who have been stripped of their youth way too early in life by asshole men who falsely dangle the prospect of long-term commitment in front of their faces for the sake of getting their dicks wet. I held onto my V-card for a long as I possibly could, but last February, a twisted combination of depression, loneliness, and biology got the better of me. At least I knew coming in that I wasn't in love and that he wouldn't stick around.

Not entirely sure where I was going with this, but this worries me a lot and I really want things to work with Joe. Nobody is perfect, but relationship-wise he's the healthiest thing I've come across in a long time. I need all of my thoughts sorted out before I confront him. Right now I'm in a different state and this is definitely a conversation that needs to happen in person. Also, this is distracting me from something I need to do in order to get the degree I've been working on for way too long now and I need some way to acknowledge these thoughts and let them go. Maybe I can revisit this later at a more emotionally-stable moment in time. Maybe one of you has better insight on this than I do.

Back to work.

Will Blog 4 Chocolate

Today is the last day to enter the Dove Peanut Butter Milk Chocolate Promises giveaway! You have until 12 AM EST. :)

I have a proclivity for geekiness and hypotheticals.

So as I do my homework for my next class during my current class (literally minutes before it's due!), I stumble across the word "proclivity" in the text. Big words excite me, especially big words like proclivity, which I have never heard before. I look it up on my handy, dandy Dashboard. Mac pride!!

For those of you who don't know, if you have a proclivity for something, you are inclined to do or choose that thing regularly. I, for instance, have a proclivity for any available distraction while I'm doing homework. But I digress.

I got to thinking hypotheticals. Hypothetically, if I'm playing Scrabble, if the person who plays right before me plays the word "pro", if I just so happen to have the letters C/L/I/V/I/T/Y, I could add them to "pro" in the aforementioned order and get a Bingo with a hefty 50 point bonus. Not to mention the awesomeness of my hypothetical 3-point C tile and hypothetical 4-point V and Y tiles. Hypothetically, if any of these hypothetical tiles were played over hypothetical double/triple word squares, double/triple letter squares, I could hypothetically get an even higher score.

Judge me if you will, but that turns me on oh-so-much. ;) Back to work now.

Feel free to ignore this. I write this here because I have no other outlet that a boss or a parent wouldn't see and I fear the type of attention this would bring, positive or negative. This feels like it's going to become one of the most insane, hypochondriacal things I've ever written, but if I don't get it out while I can put thoughts into words, eventually my symptoms will exacerbate and I will be at a total loss for words and won't remember this moment. I don't know why, but this feels like something that should be made semi-public. Maybe someone out there totally gets my insanity and I don't have to go through this alone.

To my recollection, this has been persisting for the past 3, maybe 4 years. I fall into a heavy sleep and wake up feeling this intense pressure forcing my ribcage up and I have to consciously stop myself from breathing or it seems like I'll burst an organ. Just now, I woke up from a nap feeling like I had no control over my central nervous system, over these reflexes (which yeah, I know, we really don't, but I thought they were there to protect me), and if I didn't somehow take control, my ribcage would burst.

I feel like I should take this to a doctor, but I have no idea which doctor would take something like this seriously and which doctor would chalk it up to hypochondria and there's a part of me that's afraid to persist. There's also the side of me that loves Oliver Sacks books, House, Mystery Diagnosis on the Discovery Channel and all of these people who overcome this fear so that we should learn more.

Please don't judge me for what I am about to say. I am the most hypocritical budding special ed teacher on earth. If I were to unexpectedly conceive a child that would be born with severe physical or mental disabilities, the pro-lifer I seem to be on the surface would rather abort this child than see him or her passed between teachers and specialists only to never be able to survive without around-the-clock care. If I were to persist and find out what the hell is wrong with me only to learn that I'm severely disabled or abnormal in any way, I feel like if there's no lasting cure for whatever this is, I feel like I'm of absolutely no use to my future students whatsoever.

Either I become false inspiration as a fellow person with abnormalities somewhere along my spinal nervous system. "Hey boys and girls, your own teacher was just like you and look how great she turned out! She takes care of herself and isn't pushing shopping carts at Wal-Mart!" As I said before, I fear any attention this will bring, positive or negative. Everybody will be watching me and if I don't say or do just the right thing, that's the impression I have left for good.

If there's no lasting cure, I'm either false inspiration or I'm going to go about doing what I planned to do and no one will ever know until conditions get so much worse and the role model will become helpless and dependent herself.

As much as I would like to believe otherwise, there is very little room for abnormalities in this world and that scares me so, so much.

I have a tendency to start strong and end weak.

My first day at Jamba, my boss made me pose for a Polaroid picture in uniform, to go on our little "Wall of Employees". The assistant manager was standing on the side and encouraging me and the other newbie to do something funny. I thought it would be pretty awesome to make claws with my hands and act all awkwardly ferocious. If only the manager had snapped sometime within the first 3 seconds of my pose. It was brilliant! My facial expression completed it, with my angry eyes and my extra-pointy teeth, like a rabid beaver had jumped out of a blender just minutes before and latched on to my thigh. But no, the manager was having serious 80's camera issues and it took him a good 30 seconds to snap the damn picture. By the time he finally did, I was repressing laughter, the claws were getting lower and lower, and my eyes were closed.

As the last day of school approaches, I really want to try and break the norm and end well. Whenever a semester begins, the new supplies, the new textbooks and the pretty, untainted planner boost my mojo and I'm on top of everything. As the weeks go by, I get more and more sloppy until all of the final projects at the end force me to work hard again. Of course, I rarely do. The exams I usually do pretty decently on, but anything that requires me to do work outside of class is turned in with a huge "to be continued" vibe.

Deadlines and I are a married couple that wants the relationship to work, but knows deep down that we're all wrong for each other. I started the Bible in 90 Days challenge in the beginning of April and haven't even made it past the week one readings yet. At first, I thought it was because I don't always have it with me, but even after investing in this cute little bubblegum pink leather purse-sized Bible, I still have a lot of catch-up to do. After school ends, I'll have to make a lot of beach trips and do 4+ days worth of reading in every sitting.

LOL, after 5 years of blogging, I still suck at wrapping these entries up. Which I suppose only further proves my tendency to start strong and end weak, so this time I'll let myself slide. Here's to ending strong!