Halloween was a
lot of fun. Didn't dress up but wore some bear
ears and dressed fancyish with tits on display. Oh and I
wore my Halloween
shoes! We went to the usual Wednesday bar and watched the college kids walking up and down the
street in their costumes. And I got an awesome makeout session
before the evening was over. So I'd deem it a good evening!
ETA: Oh MY god.
All those Halloween costumes have been blown out of the water by
Cyn's. She went as Wonder
Womanatee. It's...glorious. You should seriously look at the picture.
Seriously.
The roommates' dog
escaped while they were gone one day. I spent 45 minutes going up and
down the trailer park trying to catch him. For awhile neighbors were
helping me but they eventually gave up. I was walking back and forth,
screaming for him and making kissing noises. My calls included:
“Thooooor!” all cheerful and loving. “THOR!” trying to be
stern and demanding. “Oh god, Thor, PLEASE,” “Please Thor, I'm
not playing!” “Please Thor, I'll let you play with the cats!”
near tears and desperate. And the ever popular, “THOR! YOU FURRY
FUCK, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!!” as I panted and dripped sweat.
Eventually I managed to get close enough to grab his scruff and pin
him down. I tried to drag him but it wasn't working so I screamed for
one of the people watching to help me. I got some rope around his
neck and led him to the trailer. 45 goddamn minutes. My entire body
was pure screaming pain. But I WON.
Let's
see. Then we were waiting on a plumber on Thursday due to more
fucked up plumbing problems. Yeahhhhh...hello Monday morning! The
landlady finally listened and got someone else. Someone who didn't
suck and tell me that a toilet not working for three days “just
happens sometimes” instead of actually dealing with the pipes.
This guy spent 2.5 hours working on our pipes
(which were filled with tree roots) and still had to declare one
toilet as unusable. This was all happening during a cold snap
(“39F feels like 31F”) so we ended up in fur hats, drinking beer
by 9:30am because it was all just so ridiculous and our home is
crumbling down around us. The plumber said, "Man, may God be
with you! You should really move!" You are telling us nothing
new, hot plumber guy, nothing new at all. #45 - where
cheap rent trumps the risk of death and grievous bodily injury and
it's never too early to start drinking in order to deal with that
fact.

And now there's more trouble to deal with. God.
While on the topic
of my trailer park...
I have a suitor,
as it were. He constantly tells me how beautiful I am and how
amazing and all this other shit. And how he has a lady but just has
to tell me how pretty I am. He asks my roommates about me a lot but
the other night was just the pinnacle.
“I have a lady.
But if I was going to fuck up? You'd be the FIRST to know.”
He freaked me out
but has proven to be harmless. I had a revelation! The trailer he
lives in? Is roughly 10 feet from my bedroom. Which means he
probably hears me masturbating, having phone sex, being beaten... My
immediate reaction? Well, shit, no wonder he's in love with me!
Soon after that
realization, my female roommate revealed she'd accidentally overheard
me masturbating. GAH! I knew it'd happen eventually but not
this soon! I was mortified but she did say, “Well
you sounded really good!” Ha! I mean, we're roommates, it was
going to happen. I just didn't expect it to happen this
soon!
I've been acting
super antisocial lately but am trying to fix that. I have plans to
see a friend tomorrow and then a few more on Sunday. I can be
social, damn it!
I think group and
individual therapy are helping me a lot. I've been saying “no”
to guys I'm not interested in, instead of just saying “yes”
because I need validation of my appearance or worth. But fuck that
noise. I've gone and made plans with someone for casual sex and then
realized I didn't want it to happen. And didn't even want it to
happen when I'd said “yes” and I actually canceled! Which is
huge for me.
I told my
therapist I was ready to deal with my trauma and so we worked out
this plan that I would a) pick a topic or instance of trauma, b)
write about it – since that's how I get my catharsis – in extreme
detail, including sights, smells, sounds, etc., c) read it out loud
to myself, and d) bring it to read to her. This plan was made when I
explained that writing about trauma makes it more real to me.
Because I can't laugh or be sarcastic or minimize the hell out
it...which are my biggest coping/defense mechanisms. When I write
about it, it becomes serious to me. And fuck if I want that to
happen! I didn't realize how hard it would be until I'd gotten home
and decided to write only to freak out and close the document before
I could even put a single letter down.
But I can do this.
Because I'm ready to heal. No matter how many wounds I have to rip
open in order to do so.
You are very wise to write about your trauma. I did that same thing when I was writing my book a year ago. It was very hard to relive those moments when my mother was ill and then died...but I did it...and I think it helped.
ReplyDeleteAs for you and your roommates; it sounds like you are having a good time together. Wish you could find a better and still cheap place to live though.
I love you.
ReplyDelete