Because of Them

Due to this being fresh in my mind, I decided to write about it. I read someone else's blog involving their experience and it brought back all the emotion of my own.

I remember them.

I was using the back stairwell by the social sciences wing. Lunch had just gotten out and I was on my after-lunch-high that most 7th graders got after eating half a yogurt, a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos, and 2 desserts. I hardly ever took the back stairwell, no one really took it, the "cool lockers" weren't located there but on this day I was running a little late. (Carly K. had stuck a popsicle stick, with quite a bit of precision and stealth I might add, in the back pocket of Mr. H's pants...I had to stick around to watch that.)

I remember opening the doors to the stairs and seeing the group of boys who were in my gym class, but couldnt speak english, standing in a circle. I was little taken aback by this because well...they were all staring at me and speaking in Spanish...but I continued to walk towards the steps. I had my books in my left arm and I was holding down my skirt in the back with my right hand so no one would look up it. As I proceeded to the steps, one of the boys stepped in front of me to block me from the steps.

I panicked. I was 12. Im a girl. This was scary to me, so I took my hand off the back of my skirt and pushed the boy blocking me in the chest. He grabbed both my arms, causing my books to fall, and shoved me towards his friends and into a corner. I didn't fall but I started to cry silently. Tears were just streaming down my face but I couldnt utter a sound. At this point, I was surrounded by these boys and absolutely terrified. All I could do was stand there and wait.

There were 8 or 9 of them.
I couldnt talk.
I couldnt move.
I couldnt think.
I couldnt breath.

Their hands went everywhere. All over everything. I had never had anyone touch me like that in my life. They were probing my mouth with their toungues and taking turns lifting up my shirt and skirt putting their hands where ever they wanted.

God dammit I was fucking 12.

I was still a little girl who had never even had the experience of her first real kiss let alone anything else. My dreams of that were shattered.

I dont remember why they stopped. Warning bell maybe...but they left me. Standing there, shaking, and crying, with one knee high sock around my ankle and the front of my skirt twisted around to the back, they left me. Their sticky breath lingering all over my lips and their hands imprinted in my flesh and brain.

I didnt go to my class. I went to the bathroom in the music hallway and cried like a baby. Sobbing. I couldnt quite comprehend what was done to me and why it was done to me. A teacher heard me crying in the washroom and took me to the school counselor. I was so ashamed and so scared of what my mom would say.

For months I would wake up in the middle of the night shaking and crying due to this. I had never felt so weak in my life. I was mad at my brain for not working; for not allowing me to run, kick, punch, bite, scream....I was mad at myself. Why did I wear a skirt to school that day? Why did I wear lipstick? Why did I take the back stairs?

I had to face those boys every single day in school. They were still allowed to go to school there but had to be escorted by teachers at all times when outside of the classroom. When they saw me, they would just put their heads down. Day in and day out I dealt with this.

While all this was going on I found out this had happened to two of my best friends too (and another girl) and they came forward when I was forced to. The boys, through a translater, admitted what they did...to all of us.

What they did was ruin my spirit for a long, long time. That was when I became scared. Scared of other people, men especially, life...myself....everything. I dont think I have quite regained what I lost, although through time I would have had to change due to growing older. I wonder though if I would still be the same person I am today.

Im loud because Im scared of not being heard.
Im outgoing so someone will notice if Im not there.
I act tough because I want people to think I wont take their bullshit so they wont try to hurt me.


Im scared because of them.

But I am strong. Because of them.
I can laugh at myself. Because of them.
I can be proud. Because of them.

You F'in Know It

I love my life.

I really, really do.

I may bitch and moan like a motherfucker (I am a Jew ya know) but I am in love with my life.

I woke up on Sunday and had NO idea where I was. I literally jumped out of the bed I was in and found my shirt, shoes, belt, jewelry and socks in a small, but neat pile on the floor. Then I hear, "Hey you." Before I even turn around I realize where I am and grin from ear to fucking ear. I think to myself "You really did it this time lady. Nice work. PS...you ROCK" Sure enough, I turn around and there D is, shirtless, lying in the same bed I was just in, right next to the spot I had just evacuated so hastily.

All I can do is smile at him, pull my top back on, and exit stage left to the washroom to see what kind of state I am and assess the situation. I am pleasantly surprised to see that I actually look kinda cute still. My eye make-up is in tact (it didnt prostitute itself all over my face) and my hair is still perfectly in place. Uh-oh...we didnt do it. DAMN! I grab some toothpaste, put a line on my finger and ghetto brush. Slam some mouthwash and sit down to pee.

I take that back...about the doing it thing.
I sat down and felt some serious pain...my whole body was aching. (HOLY SHIT!!!!!!!) Excrutiating pain. I finish my business. Slam some more mouthwash and walk back into his room. He has this, "yeah I just fucked the shit outta you, you dirty little slut" smile on his face.

"Ready for round 4?" Oh. My. God. Round 4? Holy shit, I dont even remember 1, 2, or 3 and he is wanting a round 4? No wonder my body was hurting so bad. So I get all girl on his ass and am like, "Ummmm....I have to go." Why did I do this? WHY DID I DO THIS? I really cant answer that. Im embarassed because its him and because I have been wanting him for soooo long (YEARS) and because I was wasted when we slept together and I dont remember a damn thing.

So I get my little pile of stuff together and proceed to leave his apt. I get downstairs, get a cab, and go to my car. I suddenly remember I had been out with a friend, S. What the hell happened to her??? I grab for my cell in my purse and have 8 missed calls from her and 4 missed calls from D. I call her back and she is hysterical. I mean she cant even get a word out. So I start freaking out: "Whats wrong...ohmygod are you ok? Where are you? What happened last night?" She cant even talk she is so hysterical. Then breathlessly she stammers out...You...Idiot.

This is when I realize she is laughing. "What do you mean Im an idiot? What the fuck?"

More laughter.

Beep...other line.

Its D.

"Hello?"

"Yeah ummm...S was passed out right on the couch and you just left her ass here. I think you should come back and pick her up." No way. I HAVE TO GO BACK??? So I get in my car and drive to D's place. I park my car in his garage, and go back in to grab S. When I get up to his place I smell french toast and I see S sitting there in her skank tank and a pair of his basketball shorts stuffing her black-tear stained face with food. D is no where to be found...he is in the shower. I can make a clean get-a-way. But no....S wants to eat. Fuck. I owe her for totally forgetting about her so I rigidly sit down on the edge of the couch anticipating his return.

Shortly he walks out with just a towel on, stops in the hallway, looks at me and motions for me to come into his room. Being the girl that I am, I want to know what he wants...so I follow his lead. I tell S "Ill be right back" and go to his room. He shuts the door behind me and grabs me by my waist. He kisses me. (Ok, I thought I already made it clear that I did not want to sleep with him again, not like this at least.) "I have been wanting to kiss you for years. You are so fucking cute and sweet."
WHAT? Didnt he kiss me last night?

"Didnt you kiss me last night?"
"Nope" And again he smiling from ear to ear.
"What??? Shut up."
"I didnt. In fact, I didnt do anything and neither did you."
Oh. My. God. What the fuck. "What were you talking about then...round 4?"
"You puked 3 times last night. You were smashed. You fell down the stairs at the bar and landed on your ass. They were going to kick out of the bar and that is when you called me to come pick you and S up. When we got back here I took your shoes, belt (it was over my shirt), socks, and jewelry off and put you into my bed. I asked if you wanted stuff to sleep in but you said no and passed out."
"Seriously? Why was my shirt off? What did I say to you?"
"You took your shirt off in the middle of the night because you 'couldnt stop sweating' you were hilarious when you jumped up and shouted it, you passed out right after too. You just kept saying thank you over and over and over again. You mumbled a lot too."
The rest is mushy stuff....

I LOVE MY LIFE.

Only I would automatically assume I fucked someone....because well...I would have. And only I would be dissapointed that it didnt actually happen. (Well Kinda...I would like to have remembered it.) I definitely won't rule it out happening in the future, but he is relationship material and Im not ready for that.

But I got a good make-out session (after he gave me a toothbrush) and even got some of my own french toast.

HOO RAH!

Kiss my ass Thanksgiving Eve.

Thanksgiving Eve was a night I cannot wait to forget about.

1) My skank-ho cousins, twiddle dumb and twiddle mc ugly, from the town that held, "the turkey testicle festival" (that should sum their mannerisms and personalities up) decided to tag along with me and throw themselves at every single one of my guy friends from 8pm - 3 am. If this wasn't embarassing enough ("I want you to fuck my brains out tonight" was a popular statement made by each to at least three seperate friends that I know about) they each landed a friend and proceeded to do everything, but actually bang, in the middle of the bar where I knew about 82.5% of the people.

2) Then the fuglies had the nerve to ditch me, there goes my ride, to take these two, probably now former, friends of mine, back to "turkey testicle festival" town and have their way with them. Did I mention my cousins (who are sisters) also like to make-out with eachother for attention? Not hot, please re-visit "turkey testicle festival"...

3) Joey, aka fuckstick, was out on the prowl as he is every Holiday Eve. This guy is gorgeous. When he walks into a room girls literally stop what they are doing to stare at him. (Im not even exaggerating.) And then out comes, "Yo baby, I know you're diggin' on me" as he proceeds to make his way around the bar, making out with, and ultimately getting rejected by, various girls. (BTW that is the smartest sentence that ever comes out of his mouth...he is the dumbest guy, think Jessica Simpson, EVER!) By the time he makes his way back to his friends he is always covered in eye make-up, various shades of lipstick, gloss and concealer, and the always sexy...glitter. Unfortunately, I am one of those girls who Joey really likes to make-out with and when Im around I get all his undivided, stalker-esque, follows me to the washroom and waits, attention. (Some girls would love this, but I have known joey for 10 years and he hasn't gotten any smarter, funnier or...well...anything.) He is harmless because I know his ultimate secret (yep at 28 he still pisses the bed) and he knows that when he starts to cross a line that I will yell it out for all to hear. (Instead of calling me a bitch and denying this rumor, he runs out of the bar making this rumor a fact...dumb ass). So, I kissed him at the bar, no big deal (we have done this on several occasions) and he proceeds to pull me through the insane crowd, away from my friends and his, and take me to a set of back stairs, force me down the stairs and yank my pants down.

4) Slapped the shit outta Joey, grabbed my pants with one hand to hold them up and keep them shut and ran through the crowd, knocking drinks and people down, until I got to the girls bathroom and was able to put my pants back on and try to clean up my tear-stained face. (That would have only worked had I stopped crying)

5) I couldn't find my friends in my hysteria. (the bar had close 1000 people)

6) My brothers friends saw me crying and wanted to fight "whatever douche bag did that to you (me)" and proceeded to follow me around the bar asking me which guy it was over and over and over again. (causing me to cry more)

7) I couldn't find any of my friends, but Joey was able to keep finding me.

8) I left the bar alone and stood out in the freezing cold, jacketless, for about 25- 30 minutes. I finally got ahold of one of my friends in the bar who was too drunk to do anything other than fall all over me and play with my hair telling me he "loves me".

9) I cabbed it home alone, freezing and sobbing, broke as hell, with glitter from Joey all over me while my phone was ringing off the hook with booty-calls from various losers who I was just not in the mood to even think about, or talk to, let alone touch.

10) When I finally made it home, my brother's friend was passed out in my bed, with my favorite hoodie on forcing me to crawl into bed with some 18 year old kid who woke up spooning me. B O O H O O.

Black Wednesday kicked my ass.
Im staying home next year.

Ramblings

I QUIT!

I give the fuck up.
He wins.
You win.
She wins.
Everyone's a winner.
But me, cuz Id rather be a quitter.
I tried not to.
He forced me to.
You forced me to.
She forced me to.
Everyone forced me to.
So I did.

Happy now?

In the great words of Paris Hilton...

He is an amazing guy, but I dont want him.

Unfortunately this is causing some drama with close friends...and mommy.

This guy looks great on paper. His credentials are all there. Smart, dependable, honest, kind-hearted, good looking...but there is something missing. He has like no personality. He doesn't make me laugh, he doesn't talk dirty, he doesn't do the things that make me the most happy...which would be...having fun!!!

"You just need to tell him that."

Trust me I have.
***************************************************************************
"That is not how I was raised to speak to a lady."
"Well, Im not a fucking lady, so talk to me like you would your guy friends."
"I can't. It is not right."
"Ok, well you can at least swear around me. It makes me feel weird that you dont and that I do. I feel like a man."
"It is wrong to swear in front of woman."
BLEH.

***************************************************************************
B O R I N G.
He makes me feel bad about being myself even though he totally doesn't mean to. I feel guilty for having a truckers mouth and thinking dirty jokes are funny...and for talking dirty during sex. God forbid my girl friends and I grope eachother when we are drunk, he thinks that is tacky. Youre damn right it is, but Im drunk and having fun, and that is what you are supposed to do when your drunk...let loose and have fun.

I tried talking dirty to him once during sex. He said something totally lame which in turn, turned me off completely. I like to talk dirty, it makes things hotter and sexier. He likes to focus and just grunt every now and then.

I cant exactly tell my mom that. Although, I should just so she will shut the hell up about this guy.

"...youre being a bitch...youre scared...he could be the one...hes not like your ex...you still want to be with your ex...he would be so good to you...you would have beautiful kids...he could take care of you...you shouldnt be alone...he is wonderful, how do you know youre going to find that again...stop being so picky..."

ON and ON and ON...
I get it. Thank you everyone for your two cents!

So I tried cutting ties with him last night, but he wasnt having any of that. He even said damn, hell...and shit. I feel like I am forcing myself into this with him which is causing me to be resentful towards him. I wish people would just mind their own business sometimes. Im not hurting for guys and I dont need to be married.

Why is it that when girls are alone, they are viewed as being lonely and desperate?

Stalker.

My ride home from work on Friday set the tone for my entire weekend. I probably should have called the cops and reported this guy, but I was too hysterical too even think about that.

The drive home:
Im driving home at about 5:40 pm.
Im trying to get over to my exit but this asshole wont let me in. In fact, he is doing the oh-so-classy wanna munch your box gesture and then actually lifts his hips and starts humping the air/stearing wheel. Yummy. Ok so being a girl I am used to this. Usually from young guys trying to be funny, but this guy was like late 30's early 40's and just weird. Ok, so he absolutely will not let me over. I start to get upset at this point (crying a little). Then, right when traffic picks up, he cuts in front of me and I have to slam on my brakes causing the car behind me to slam on its brakes and causing the car behind that one to hit it. So I bright the guy. I know, not smart on my part, but I felt like an asshole when it was his fault for this mess.

I manage to get in the far left lane before traffic completely stops. He finds me and gets right behind me. He leaves his brights on for 5 minutes. I am not kidding. He is also tapping my car. Now, I am an avid Lifetime for women watcher, I know better than to get out of my car. I could car less at this point if he is doing damage or not. Im wondering how no one is noticing this either??? Lucky for me my windows are tinted and his brights werent affecting my eyes. Unfortunately this is causing me stress and making me cry hysterically. I have to get off at an unfamiliar exit and sure enough, he gets off at the same exit as me, not leaving my ass for anything in the world.

I have no sense of direction whatsoever. So for me to get off at an exit I have never taken before (in the middle of rush hour on Friday) is bad, bad news. Not to mention, I have this stalker behind me. Im freaking out at this point. Im trying to call someone but no one is answering their phones.

At this exact point, this guy juts out from behind me, gets into the lane next to me and proceeds to almost side swipe my car. As he continues to do this he is laughing and still humping the steering wheel. I am crying to the point that I have to pull over because I am hyperventilating. I do this quickly and there is no way for him to get over so he has no choice but to keep going. THANK GOD.

So, after I have calmed myself down, and actually thrown up, I try to figure out where the fuck I am. I am in a town that is at least 25 minutes from where I live. I drive around for a bit looking for a road that is familiar and finally find one. I get home from work at 7:32.

I was so sick/drained from that whole situation that all I did was sleep all weekend. I guess that was good because I definitely needed it.

(Now I need something else and I know this week & weekend I will not be getting any of that and that just SUCKS! BOOOOOO.)

What a fucking disaster.

Why?

I haven't thought about him in weeks. No wondering what he was doing. No caring who he was with...nothing. Im not so sure I really cared about all that because I liked him or more so for my bruised ego. I saw him out with another girl(s)

K and I were talking. That was it.
He tended to pour it on a little thick. That was all part of his "game"

I knew K across the bar before he even came over to (re)introduce himself. We had met a few years prior on several different drunken occassions, we had mutual friends. I knew all about him and yet I believe that people can change (it had been like 3 years since I had last heard an utterly disgusting K story) so I gave him my number (with bated breath).

Fast Forward 1 week.
K calls. We go out. He gets so drunk that I have to help him out of the bar. I take him home. He attacks my face, throat and teeth with his tongue. I wipe the spit off my forehead. He goes inside. Date Over.

After about an hour of apology the next morning I decide that this guy isnt so bad, although his kissing skills may determine otherwise, and agree to meet him at a bar the next weekend.

Cut to the next weekend.
We hang out. We have fun. No big deal.

Cut to the next few weeks.
Lots of talking. Getting-to-know-you crap. "K is different, he has changed."

A random Friday evening.
2 calls to the cell (0ver 4 hours) to see what he was doing because I was going to a bar right by his house (not because it was by his house but because a great band was going to be there). No call back. No big deal. I didnt stress...no really, I didnt. I would be lying though if I said that I didnt have a little crush on him at this juncture.

Friday night.
Loving the band so much that my girl friend and I are sweating profusely from jamming out, we decide to go upstairs to the outside deck to dry off. (Still summer!) Walking back in from drying off...there he was. I smiled at him and realized that he quickly took his hand out of another girl's. Not pissed...yet. K literally puts his hand in front of his face to shield it and guides his girl out of my line of site and I am assuming out of the bar. Pissed. Did he really think that by putting his hand in front of his face like that that he made himself invisible and time warped back by 30 seconds? Nope, didnt see ya K...bitch.

The Friday after the last one.
He called. I didnt answer. I wasn't in the mood.

Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Sunday x2.
He called. I didnt answer. I wasn't in the mood.
No voicemails, no texts, no emails. Just blank calls.

Finally a text asking him if I could meet him at the movie theater by his house.
Sure, I was in the mood to deal with the situation (or lack thereof). I walked in, he hugged me, asked how I was doing and guided me into a movie. We watched the movie in silence. We hugged goodbye. "Call ya later S." Bye.

The End.

I felt the need to make no effort towards him. I was waiting for him to bring the situation up, but he didnt. I didnt expect any different. I wasnt looking for an apology, just an acknowledgment. Nothing.

I let it go. I would check his myspace account (BOO me here immediately...louder...cuz I SUCK!) But it helped me to realize what a chode this guy was and well...I felt better...almost good about the brush off.

Until today. I had forgotten about him. (Except for the drunken convo with Frankie at Spoon 2 weeks ago when she told me she was banging him and that she had been for months. I pretended like I didnt remember who he was.) He calls me from a different number than his cell and asks me out tonight.

Why?

Spidey Senses...some people have em...this guy does. He doesnt want me to forget about him, but Im not sure why. Ego? Maybe.

Is he going to continue to do this? Come and go as he pleases? Not cool. My pride hurts around him. He doesnt make me feel very good. K=yuck. I hope he doesnt drunk dial me. Oh wait, he has Frankie for that.

Thanks for making me feel like ca-ca, Asshole.
Happy Friday to you too.

Waaay too much free time....

"Wesley, you've been a naughtly little bugger. Why dont you come over here and sit on Mr. Belvidere's lap for a spanking you nasty little devil, you."

G R O S S

It is 9:49 am; I am wasted. Still.

Oh and Im really sorry for the people that have to smell me today (not dirty vag like my homies in my office, just cigs and booze).
Tough.
I smell your stank everyday and it is more unpleasant than any smell my body could ever produce. (Even if I sharted my pants, had a yeasty, ran a marathon and decided not to shower for 2 weeks...all that goodness collectively would not smell as repulsive as you.)
Im a sick fuck.
Im going to vomit.

Im pretty sure that is all I can type right now.

Girl On Girl II

So my first girl on girl date...CANCELLED. Yep, thats right...CANCELLED.

"The weather is bad, I don't feel like driving in it. Maybe some other time."
Maybe some other time? Oh. My. God. I got the nice let-down. The nice let-down? From a lady. Holy shit. I have hit an all time low.

I think C used me, with no touch (OUCH!). She threw my name out to her lesbifriends (I know of at least two other ladies that want a piece of this) to let them know she scored the "big one" and then tossed me aside when the popular one, T, (known for her intense cat-eating skills) asked her out instead. I just know that is what happened. Sonofabitch.

Now, I have no problems with homosexuals, I dont care how they live their life as long as they are nice to me and good friends. But people, I was tricked into a date, (read my first post...Im straight) and then thrown to the side. I was a pawn in C's twisted game, used to make her ladies jealous (in all fairness I am super cool and pretty hot when I want to be...grrrrr).

But, I can'r really blame her for the ditch, T is known for her super-sweet-spot-skills.

And I woulda done a little kissing, but that is all. (And that woulda been a HUGE tease to her because I am an incredibly good kisser.)

Come to think about it, I woulda ditched her too for a wang. And not even a wang that posesses the kind of super skills that T has...any old wang would have sufficed. (That is if she even ditched me for T.)

She better ask me out again. Not because I want to go out with her, just so I feel...better.

Girl on Girl Action!!!!

So I'm going on a date tonight...

with a girl?!?!?!?!

This acquaintance of mine asks me out for a couple of drinks tonight. Im feeling kinda weird today so a couple of drinks sounds like a really good idea and I accept her invitation. She gets really excited and says, "Really?" Im thinking awwww...this girl thinks I'm too cool to hang out with her, how sweet. So Im all, "Really."

"Tonight is going to be great, I cannot wait to tell my friends that I am finally going out with you. I have been telling them for months about my secret crush on you and..."

Everything after that statement sounded like the teacher from Charlie Brown...wa wa waaaaaa waa waaaaaa wawa. Backthefuckup...secret crush? Oh shit, what did I get myself into? To answer my own question, my first girl date apparently.

Did I mention I like wiener?

Oye Vey.

:sigh:

I feel really unsettled this morning. I know it has to do with the conversation we had last night. I was expecting the worst and quite the opposite happened; I remembered why I liked you in the first place, damn you. And so begins the cycle of missing you all over again.

Even though it has been months since we last talked you still manage to make me just want to tell you anything and everything there is to know about me and my life. (That is just unheard of in my world!!!)

Im not sure if we will actually talk again, but Im glad I found an outlet to you...

a great surprise

It was really nice to hear your voice.

I forgot how much I like talking to you.

Life doesnt get any better...

:Sigh:

How can you not love a man in a metallic bodysuit complete with a serious case of shiny pecker? Oh Gutte, how you make my day a little brighter (and yes I am referring to the reflection off your balls)!

I just want to take a moment out of my day to say thank you to the great Steve Guttenberg for a phenomenal career in film as well as his ability to make the people of the world smile.

Blame.

My brother called us last night to let us know that one of Joey's brothers called him. (We didnt even know he still talked to the family.) Apparentely Joey had been really depressed lately...although they were still shocked, as well they should be. (How does one get to that decision?)

It is one thing to lose a person you love due to an accident or natural causes, but I feel like it woud be a totally different, more difficult, situation to lose a person you loved...who took their own life. I am not sure I would be able to deal. You know that someone is always going to take the blame for the cause of death whether they have anything to do with it or not.

When my dad died I believed it was my fault. I don't believe that anymore, but it wasnt until about 2 years ago that I stopped walking around with that guilt on my back. I was 10 years-old, I couldn't have saved him even I wanted to. I have re-played that day in my head over and over and over again and even if I was 30 years old, I couldnt have saved him. I used to think that if I loved him more that he would have lived longer or not wanted to leave. But...that was confused little girl thinking. The guilt was unbearable for a long time.

Guilt is a slow-leaving process. You have to really believe in yourself for it go away. There was nothing I could have done to save my dad, he died of a heart attack plain and simple. I wasn't causing him grief or making his life difficult, I made him happy and I think I helped prolong his life by making him so happy. I was a daddy's girl!!! I thought 38 years old was young to die, but lately 38 seems old.

Brother, if you talk to Mike again, find out when the wake is, I would like to go.

Thank you.

It is almost two months since HE has passed. I cannot believe how fast life is just passing me by (and I am allowing it to which just makes it worse). I could have never imagined the impact that man had on me, but not one single day has gone by since he died that I have not thought about him.

I went to the football game on Sunday and gave a silent prayer for him. Part of me felt like I was honoring his memory by going to the last place he went before his death. Part of me just felt guilty that I was able to be there. I talked to him and my dad there. (My dad was a die-hard Bears fan and this was my first game!) I even talked outloud a couple of times to them both because well...because I wanted to. I wanted them to know I was there and that I was thinking about them and wishing they could be there with me. (Right now I just realized that I saw a lot of my dad in JP and that is why I found such comfort in him.)

I know I didnt talk to HIM that often anymore but I have so many fucking wonderful memories of him that unlike the memories of my dad, I do not want to forget. I was lucky enough to see HIM the weekend before he died and I keep his mass card in my car hoping he will protect me, that and I like to smile at him. I know he is laughing at all of us down here, but Im hoping that he met my dad and that I now have two people up there looking out for me.

The reason I am bringing all this up is because my mom called me at work today to let me know that a little boy I once knew shot himself in the head today. He wasn't a little boy anymore, he was actually 24, but I only remember him as a little boy. I think the last time I saw Joey I was in seventh grade. He is the third guy from my junior high to pass away since May. What is going on here? These are young men who haven't even lived a quarter of their would be 100 years. I cant help but feel sick to my stomach because I know that every year for the rest of my life someone I have known will go; someone the same age as me.

I sat all morning long thinking about myself and throwing myself a pity party when a family who I grew up with was dealing with the loss of their son and brother. You would have thought that the tragic and miserable death of HIM would have taught me something, and it did for about a month or so. I live everyday in the hopes that the next day will be better when I should be living each day as though it could be my last.

Time spent worrying, crying, being mad, being sad is strictly wasted time. I want to live like HIM, a man who loved life, who never stopped smiling or laughing. I dont want to live a life of misery and self-deprivation...for no reason pretty much.

The past is the past and I cant change that. What has happened to me has sucked there is no denying that, but I cannot continue on like this or I will look back and have some serious regret, or worse yet, end up like Joey who couldn't find any of the good in life so instead decided to end it.

Thank you for the reality check gentlemen.

I love you Daddy!
I miss you Friend!
My prayers go out to Joey's family and friends.

To my wonderful friend...

So my first post ever has only been up an hour and already I got a call about it.

"You are pretty slutty (insert my name here) I can't believe that you wrote all that shit. Is it really true?"
"What's it to you how I choose to live my life?"
"I think you should respect yourself more than just humping everything in sight."
"First off, Im not humping everything in sight, although I wish I was. Secondly, lets be honest here, I think the only reason you are upset is because Im not humping you."
Long pause..."I guess I am. Why is that?"
"Because fuckface, you are my friend and that is more important to me than a night of sex with a stranger."
"I can pretend to be a stranger...and just fuck you with my fingers under the table or in a corner. How you described in your blog...you don't even have to suck my dick in a stall. Fuck (insert my name here), Im here for you in your time of need, that's what friends are for...right?"

LAME!!!!!!!!

Absolutely no such thing as the opposite sexes just being friends. If nothing else, you both mind fuck the hell outta eachother, which is ok because there is no physical penetration involved. However, 8 outta 10 times physicality takes over and penetration occurs forcing awkward drunk sex and even more awkward conversation.

So to you, my dear friend, you can mind fuck me all you want, but no finger, tongue or cock of yours is penetrating any orifice of my body. I love you too much for that. And, lets be honest...the sex wouldn't be that great because we would both laugh the whole way through it. Ask your sister. ;)

Random

I'm horny right now.

I've been horny all weekend.

I just want to get fucked. Not to say that I havent been lately, but I want to get fucked by someone who:
A) I have not already dated
B) Has no feelings for me
C) Does not want to cuddle
D) Does not ask for my number

The fuck buddies are fun and all but they are starting to grow attached. Im starting to confuse them and it is getting stressful not to mention boring. Love making is a term that has been used by one the guys...no thank you. I like to fuck.

I do not really think that this is too much ask.

The problem is, I always go out with friends, who find me morally correct and therefore are the biggest cockblockers ever. (Its my own fault for presenting myself in such a manner. I dont want anyone to know about my desires to fuck randoms in random places.) They think they are helping me when in reality they are forcing me to stand-in-line for the neverending girls bathroom to go fuck myself in a stall. Its a good thing Im always soaking wet and that it doesn't take a whole lot to get me off.

I went to a bar last week by myself and found myself a very suitable alright fine, absolutely fuckable male. (This was the first time I had gone out alone just to get laid.) The sex was incredible. His body was amazing and he knew every spot to hit. Not only was the sex incredible, but he ate my pussy like it was the last time he would ever eat again. I came twice...once, all over his mouth and chin. Any guy that can get me off like that deserves to do whatever he wants to me. And, he did.

When everything was said and done though he asked for my number and my name. That anonimity (sp) is what makes me hot. I gave him a fake name and number and now I can never go back to that bar again.

Whatever happened to the guys that just dont give a fuck?

I used to know tons of them. I fucked a bunch of them too. Sure, we would see eachother out from time to time, but we knew better than to talk to eachother. There were lots of boners thrust into my ass while waiting for a drink, the occasional mens bathroom blow job, but there were no words, and no contact other than harmless groping and the occasional dance floor finger bang. There was that unspoken law between us that the first time would never be topped and that we shouldn't even try.

This is all my own fault though. I have misguided myself into wanting to believe in morality and values because that is what I am supposed to believe in. In the past 2 years I have missed out on more than any girl should. UGH!

Im hornier now than when I began. Time to close the door and call a friend.