a bad week
Saturday, May 14th, 2022 02:30 amMy sweet Zorro-puppy died on Monday, at 12 years of age. May she rest in peace. We had to put her to sleep. I was in tears for three days but have started feeling more normal again. I wrote a lot of thoughts down to help process my emotions, and will put some of them into a longer post.
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Early Monday morning, after midnight (when Zorro still seemed fine!), we had a 3.3 earthquake nearby, while I was still up and awake to notice it. I was looking at the TV, and it shook or bounced or something, and there was a big rumbling sound. But nothing fell down. At the time, I wondered if it could have been a bomb or an explosion in the distance.
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I have signed up to attend a Planned Parenthood / Abortion Rights rally downtown tomorrow. I wonder how many people will attend; I don't really expect a large crowd. I don't have any sign to hold, and it is too late now to think of making one. I'm no good at chanting or yelling. I'm sure I will feel quite awkward there. I hope I will at least find the other participants in order to join with them. I hope it won't be like the other time I went downtown for a protest where I felt like I was just someone on the sidelines, not really a part of it. I am not good at joining in on things. But I feel like maybe just being an extra body there will make some kind of tiny tiny difference.
.
Early Monday morning, after midnight (when Zorro still seemed fine!), we had a 3.3 earthquake nearby, while I was still up and awake to notice it. I was looking at the TV, and it shook or bounced or something, and there was a big rumbling sound. But nothing fell down. At the time, I wondered if it could have been a bomb or an explosion in the distance.
.
I have signed up to attend a Planned Parenthood / Abortion Rights rally downtown tomorrow. I wonder how many people will attend; I don't really expect a large crowd. I don't have any sign to hold, and it is too late now to think of making one. I'm no good at chanting or yelling. I'm sure I will feel quite awkward there. I hope I will at least find the other participants in order to join with them. I hope it won't be like the other time I went downtown for a protest where I felt like I was just someone on the sidelines, not really a part of it. I am not good at joining in on things. But I feel like maybe just being an extra body there will make some kind of tiny tiny difference.
I made a spur of the moment vlog video yesterday, as I was feeling in a rather chipper mood. I haven't done one like that in a very long time, and most of the people I've followed on YT don't make them anymore either. Maybe I was feeling nostalgic for the old days.
Words came out of my mouth rather easily, compared to usual.
The video, combined with another clip I decided to append to it, was over 15 minutes long. Too long, I knew (if I don't want to watch one that long, I don't expect other people would want to either...) but editing it to be shorter would have taken away the spontaneity of it.
Saving the video file took forever, and the resulting file was half a gig. So I reduced the resolution and data rate to make it smaller; saving that one took forever too. Then I uploaded it to YT, which also took forever. And THEN AFTER it finished uploading, YT gave me the message, "This video was removed because it was too long".
I thought, "Fuck it" (because I'd stayed up way too late doing the above), cried a bit, and went to sleep.
It would be better to split it into 2 separate videos anyway. But that YT message rubbed me the wrong way. I'll get around to uploading it again somewhere, someday. Maybe. So much for spontaneity.
Words came out of my mouth rather easily, compared to usual.
The video, combined with another clip I decided to append to it, was over 15 minutes long. Too long, I knew (if I don't want to watch one that long, I don't expect other people would want to either...) but editing it to be shorter would have taken away the spontaneity of it.
Saving the video file took forever, and the resulting file was half a gig. So I reduced the resolution and data rate to make it smaller; saving that one took forever too. Then I uploaded it to YT, which also took forever. And THEN AFTER it finished uploading, YT gave me the message, "This video was removed because it was too long".
I thought, "Fuck it" (because I'd stayed up way too late doing the above), cried a bit, and went to sleep.
It would be better to split it into 2 separate videos anyway. But that YT message rubbed me the wrong way. I'll get around to uploading it again somewhere, someday. Maybe. So much for spontaneity.
HPMOR chapter 93
Wednesday, September 27th, 2017 09:33 pmI got teary-eyed from what I read today. It wasn't even at the sad part; it was during the reading of the letters and the giving of an apology... In the same places as where Harry was beginning to feel like crying.
While reading the ostensibly sad part last Friday, I felt at first dread, then dismay, then uncertainty. I'm still uncertain. Because in movies and such, they almost always come back.
I'm still uncertain about the defense professor, too.
Dang, what a good book.
A month or 2 or 3 ago, I realized that even though the book is nearly 2000 pages long and it seemed like it would last me forever, I had reached over half-way through. Which meant that someday it would really come to an end. :(
While reading the ostensibly sad part last Friday, I felt at first dread, then dismay, then uncertainty. I'm still uncertain. Because in movies and such, they almost always come back.
I'm still uncertain about the defense professor, too.
Dang, what a good book.
A month or 2 or 3 ago, I realized that even though the book is nearly 2000 pages long and it seemed like it would last me forever, I had reached over half-way through. Which meant that someday it would really come to an end. :(
interesting links
Monday, December 1st, 2014 11:33 pmHow a Car Engine Works (animated diagrams)
Why Does Your Nose Get Stuffy One Nostril at a Time? (and why does your nose run when you cry)
via![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
andrewducker
Why Does Your Nose Get Stuffy One Nostril at a Time? (and why does your nose run when you cry)
via
andrewduckerI'm over 40 years old. Thinking about it the other day, it seemed to me that 40 years isn't that long at all. 40 winters. 40 Christmases. 40 summers. Four sets of double-handprints. You could put down a mark for each year it wouldn't take up much space at all.
And yet, when I was 10 years old, didn't it seem that those 10 years were an eternity?
And these 40 years have been an eternity too.
.
Nasal rhymes with Basil*. Where that thought came from? Oh, I was misreading the 2nd word in "Africa Brasil".
*Now that I think of it, they wouldn't rhyme in a British accent.
.
11 audio cassettes laying on the table. I recorded them to the computer, but still need to process the files. Need to do that before I record any more.
A German/English dictionary. For when I get back to reading the family letters.
A washcloth. For wiping off tears. Left on the table from the last time I had a cry, quite a while back. I rarely cry anymore, in comparison to how much I used to. I still feel like it once in a while, but it seems pointless, and I can usually distract myself from it.
A lamp socket. There's another lamp that I need to fix.
Xylitol wintergreen mints. For my teeth. The mints taste so good I could eat them all up at once. Some of my teeth are eroded at the gum line, and I want the enamel to grow back. I'm experimenting. Since my last dental cleaning, every evening after brushing my teeth, I've flossed, and then swished with a mild children's fluoride rinse. Plus xylitol mints and gum during the day.
.
It's as if I'm determined to go to bed late every time.
.
Oh and these weird sudden itches out of the blue. Like on the back of my knee, yesterday. Right now, on my left ankle.
And yet, when I was 10 years old, didn't it seem that those 10 years were an eternity?
And these 40 years have been an eternity too.
.
Nasal rhymes with Basil*. Where that thought came from? Oh, I was misreading the 2nd word in "Africa Brasil".
*Now that I think of it, they wouldn't rhyme in a British accent.
.
11 audio cassettes laying on the table. I recorded them to the computer, but still need to process the files. Need to do that before I record any more.
A German/English dictionary. For when I get back to reading the family letters.
A washcloth. For wiping off tears. Left on the table from the last time I had a cry, quite a while back. I rarely cry anymore, in comparison to how much I used to. I still feel like it once in a while, but it seems pointless, and I can usually distract myself from it.
A lamp socket. There's another lamp that I need to fix.
Xylitol wintergreen mints. For my teeth. The mints taste so good I could eat them all up at once. Some of my teeth are eroded at the gum line, and I want the enamel to grow back. I'm experimenting. Since my last dental cleaning, every evening after brushing my teeth, I've flossed, and then swished with a mild children's fluoride rinse. Plus xylitol mints and gum during the day.
.
It's as if I'm determined to go to bed late every time.
.
Oh and these weird sudden itches out of the blue. Like on the back of my knee, yesterday. Right now, on my left ankle.
have you ever felt like crying over a cucumber?
Friday, September 5th, 2008 10:58 pmA cucumber I had in the fridge got bad. I had to throw it into the compost pile yesterday. It was an organic cucumber. A nice green firm beauty, to begin with. And it was even a gift, of sorts. Someone else had bought it for me, for us.
Later at night, brushing my teeth, I thought about it again and got tears in my eyes and a sniffy nose, and felt like sobbing. Imagining the nice happy cucumber growing in a field with the nice sunshine shining on it... and then when it was all nice and big and ripe, it being picked and travelling in some truck, and ending up in the store, and being bought, with such high hopes of cucumberness... and then I left it in the fridge uneaten for too long, and it got bad!!! (It still seems sad today, writing this, but not sad enough for tears)
I neglected it. The poor cucumber!
So anyway, while brushing my teeth last night, I felt a mixture of intense sorrow/guilt/cucumber-empathy, along with a logical awareness of how bizarre it was to be feeling that way. I was obviously over-emotional. I had gotten pissed off earlier too, from just hearing someone on TV speaking at the Republican convention.
Today I was thinking about it again, about how I could feel so sad over a cucumber. Cucumbers don't have emotions. It doesn't care whether it ends up in someone's stomach, or in the compost pile. So why did I feel so sad thinking about it? Maybe in my mind, the cucumber had a guardian spirit watching over it, and this spirit was so proud of the nice cucumber.... so maybe I'm sad for the sadness of this spirit, in having the cuke come to this kind of end? But surely the spirit would have more than a single cucumber to watch over, and surely the spirit understands that some vegetables go bad; it's just the way things go. Or maybe not, maybe... anyway. That was a rather odd thought-process too.
Later at night, brushing my teeth, I thought about it again and got tears in my eyes and a sniffy nose, and felt like sobbing. Imagining the nice happy cucumber growing in a field with the nice sunshine shining on it... and then when it was all nice and big and ripe, it being picked and travelling in some truck, and ending up in the store, and being bought, with such high hopes of cucumberness... and then I left it in the fridge uneaten for too long, and it got bad!!! (It still seems sad today, writing this, but not sad enough for tears)
I neglected it. The poor cucumber!
So anyway, while brushing my teeth last night, I felt a mixture of intense sorrow/guilt/cucumber-empathy, along with a logical awareness of how bizarre it was to be feeling that way. I was obviously over-emotional. I had gotten pissed off earlier too, from just hearing someone on TV speaking at the Republican convention.
Today I was thinking about it again, about how I could feel so sad over a cucumber. Cucumbers don't have emotions. It doesn't care whether it ends up in someone's stomach, or in the compost pile. So why did I feel so sad thinking about it? Maybe in my mind, the cucumber had a guardian spirit watching over it, and this spirit was so proud of the nice cucumber.... so maybe I'm sad for the sadness of this spirit, in having the cuke come to this kind of end? But surely the spirit would have more than a single cucumber to watch over, and surely the spirit understands that some vegetables go bad; it's just the way things go. Or maybe not, maybe... anyway. That was a rather odd thought-process too.
(no subject)
Friday, April 11th, 2008 07:51 pmI am a bit worried that my Essure implants have come out, or that something has changed with them. After getting the implants, my period changed noticeably almost from the start. No cramps, more regular, slower onset, less heavy but longer duration. It stayed that way for over 2 years. But for the last couple of months, my period has been more like it used to be, before the Essure. Although still not as bad; I haven't felt the need for Tylenol yet.
I tried finding out whether any more long-term studies have been done on Essure's effectiveness... all I can find are mention of the initial couple of studies that were done. But I did find a discussion board where several women had recently posted about various problems with their implants. I don't know if it is very uncommon to have problems, and it's just that those very few people with problems are very likely to post about them, or if the problems are more common than the initial studies suggested. Perhaps the company that makes the implants is even aware of the problems, but doesn't want them to be publicized, as then they would lose business.
.
I also have other physical things bothering me. My back; the chiropractor wasn't able to get it to crack, and the massage didn't seem to help much either. My neck; I think the chiropractor helped somewhat with the stiffness, but it still doesn't feel quite right. And most of all, my right thigh. For almost 2 months now, I have not been able to cross my leg like normal. Every workday at lunch, I would go outside and cross my legs in a certain way while eating lunch, and then suddenly one day I could no longer do it. My leg hurts and complains. It's even gotten to the point where I sit differently from the outset without even thinking about it at first... I don't want that to happen. I don't want to lose my flexibility and just... stop moving, as if that's just the way things are. I don't know what to do. Should I go to a doctor? What kind of doctor? Should I wait till it's been at least 3 months? But don't even broken bones heal in just 6 weeks; why would it take 3 months for a painful/strained/sprained/whatever to heal?
I felt like crying at work this afternoon. It was all too much. All 4 of our areas had problems. The single sign-on server was down. The SQL server had been brought down (to see who would scream / to find out who was using it). The one server wasn't responding, and I only had the IP #, which was dynamic, so I couldn't even figure out which server name it was, in order to try to connect to it. The other server started having a weird problem where you could log in, but then couldn't navigate to any other pages. It just kept clocking and clocking and didn't even return a time-out error. It was awful. Maybe it was a nightmare. And of course, there was all this other work that I had actually planned to do that afternoon, but didn't get around to doing.
I tried finding out whether any more long-term studies have been done on Essure's effectiveness... all I can find are mention of the initial couple of studies that were done. But I did find a discussion board where several women had recently posted about various problems with their implants. I don't know if it is very uncommon to have problems, and it's just that those very few people with problems are very likely to post about them, or if the problems are more common than the initial studies suggested. Perhaps the company that makes the implants is even aware of the problems, but doesn't want them to be publicized, as then they would lose business.
.
I also have other physical things bothering me. My back; the chiropractor wasn't able to get it to crack, and the massage didn't seem to help much either. My neck; I think the chiropractor helped somewhat with the stiffness, but it still doesn't feel quite right. And most of all, my right thigh. For almost 2 months now, I have not been able to cross my leg like normal. Every workday at lunch, I would go outside and cross my legs in a certain way while eating lunch, and then suddenly one day I could no longer do it. My leg hurts and complains. It's even gotten to the point where I sit differently from the outset without even thinking about it at first... I don't want that to happen. I don't want to lose my flexibility and just... stop moving, as if that's just the way things are. I don't know what to do. Should I go to a doctor? What kind of doctor? Should I wait till it's been at least 3 months? But don't even broken bones heal in just 6 weeks; why would it take 3 months for a painful/strained/sprained/whatever to heal?
I felt like crying at work this afternoon. It was all too much. All 4 of our areas had problems. The single sign-on server was down. The SQL server had been brought down (to see who would scream / to find out who was using it). The one server wasn't responding, and I only had the IP #, which was dynamic, so I couldn't even figure out which server name it was, in order to try to connect to it. The other server started having a weird problem where you could log in, but then couldn't navigate to any other pages. It just kept clocking and clocking and didn't even return a time-out error. It was awful. Maybe it was a nightmare. And of course, there was all this other work that I had actually planned to do that afternoon, but didn't get around to doing.
(no subject)
Wednesday, December 26th, 2007 08:21 pmI had a dream about one of the people on my LJ friends-list (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tlttlotd) last night. They were showing off bionic/cybernetic body modifications which they had. There were a whole bunch of these mods, but I only remember an extra pair of arms, and metal hands protuding from the inside of both knees, each grasping a bundle of crossbow-bolts/arrows.
.
I got to see photos taken of me earlier this year. I looked really cute in them. I like the way my hair was then, very short on the bottom and not too long on the top, and no hair pins. The vest I had on looked good too, and I looked so slim and dapper, leaning against the counter with my hands in my pants-pockets. In most of the photos I even had a cute look on my face, which was surprising since I don't normally photograph that well.
Before that, I had already decided to end my experiment with growing out my hair. On Xmas Eve morning, my hair was being quite annoying as usual - it doesn't matter how long it gets, it still manages to curl up and tickle my nose - and I had come to the conclusion that I did not like the way I looked with my hair like that, and that I likely wouldn't like it much better even with it longer. So I cut the front hair into bangs again. Now I don't need to use pins anymore - freedom! (man, those hair-pins were torturous.) I had decided to cut more than that, but that this would do as a temporary measure.
.
I glanced at the glowing Christmas tree and burst into tears, before. This is the first year I've had a Christmas tree on my own, in my own house (although it is really Forestfen's tree, and our accumulated ornaments on it). And it seems odd, somehow. I put it up all on my own, alone. And now it is standing there, alone with me in this house. The lights are glowing pretty.
tlttlotd) last night. They were showing off bionic/cybernetic body modifications which they had. There were a whole bunch of these mods, but I only remember an extra pair of arms, and metal hands protuding from the inside of both knees, each grasping a bundle of crossbow-bolts/arrows..
I got to see photos taken of me earlier this year. I looked really cute in them. I like the way my hair was then, very short on the bottom and not too long on the top, and no hair pins. The vest I had on looked good too, and I looked so slim and dapper, leaning against the counter with my hands in my pants-pockets. In most of the photos I even had a cute look on my face, which was surprising since I don't normally photograph that well.
Before that, I had already decided to end my experiment with growing out my hair. On Xmas Eve morning, my hair was being quite annoying as usual - it doesn't matter how long it gets, it still manages to curl up and tickle my nose - and I had come to the conclusion that I did not like the way I looked with my hair like that, and that I likely wouldn't like it much better even with it longer. So I cut the front hair into bangs again. Now I don't need to use pins anymore - freedom! (man, those hair-pins were torturous.) I had decided to cut more than that, but that this would do as a temporary measure.
.
I glanced at the glowing Christmas tree and burst into tears, before. This is the first year I've had a Christmas tree on my own, in my own house (although it is really Forestfen's tree, and our accumulated ornaments on it). And it seems odd, somehow. I put it up all on my own, alone. And now it is standing there, alone with me in this house. The lights are glowing pretty.
(no subject)
Wednesday, November 21st, 2007 10:07 pmWeeping is an anomaly.
If I am weeping, that means that everything I am thinking about while weeping is likewise suspect.
Even though it seems that the complexity of curtains and the difficulty of mis-sized quilts shouldn't be enough to make me weep. It's hard to sew when my eyes keep tearing up. I've got to get this *** thing sewn so I can make the bed so I can go back to figuring out the *** curtains.
It's suspect. Yet it's all true, in its own way.
If I am weeping, that means that everything I am thinking about while weeping is likewise suspect.
Even though it seems that the complexity of curtains and the difficulty of mis-sized quilts shouldn't be enough to make me weep. It's hard to sew when my eyes keep tearing up. I've got to get this *** thing sewn so I can make the bed so I can go back to figuring out the *** curtains.
It's suspect. Yet it's all true, in its own way.
(no subject)
Wednesday, July 4th, 2007 11:17 amI am crying, and there is no reason for it. I just feel unaccountably sad of a sudden.
Or maybe there's a reason, and it just isn't clear to me.
Even if I find a person or shelter to take the kitten, I know that just means one less home for some other cat or kitten somewhere, and that some other one will end up being euthanized instead of this one.
But I don't think that is why I feel like crying.
I don't know why I'm doing all this.
There was a squirrel in the bird-feeder.
It's a holiday. Pretty quiet so far.
Grass is growing.
Or maybe there's a reason, and it just isn't clear to me.
Even if I find a person or shelter to take the kitten, I know that just means one less home for some other cat or kitten somewhere, and that some other one will end up being euthanized instead of this one.
But I don't think that is why I feel like crying.
I don't know why I'm doing all this.
There was a squirrel in the bird-feeder.
It's a holiday. Pretty quiet so far.
Grass is growing.
(no subject)
Wednesday, June 27th, 2007 08:15 pmI can hear my neighbors having an argument from my bedroom. Sounds like they are both tired and irritable.
I will have to call a different electrician up. If the other guy doesn't want my business bad enough to even call me back with the estimate like he said he would, he won't get it.
Maybe I should do some of the work myself. I've grounded an outlet before. I guess I could do as good a job as they would do, perhaps. I can put the pull-switch on the kitchen light myself, so I guess I'll do that part myself at least. I just want the wiring done right. But there's no guarantee that anyone I hire would do it right. They might do as amateur a job as me.
Oh dear, now I can hear them from this room too. She is shouting. He wants her leave him alone while he finishes the yardwork.
I have to decide on a washer and dryer. I need to fix the floor in the washer/dryer area first, because the linoleum is torn. Or should I just leave it torn? I don't want to. But I don't want to buy a vinyl floor product. And I don't want to deal with adhesives. And tile is complicated too. Why is it all so complicated???
Maybe I will need to hire a plumber to replace all the shut-off valves, so I can at least turn them.
I've felt vaguely moody, like crying. I notice it mostly at work... then I finally come home and don't find the time to relax and cry.
Oh, look. The moon.
I was wondering, what is more important in a romantic relationship. Feeling comforted by the other person's presence, or feeling excited?
Tired. Hungry. Should go cry. Should go eat. Should go do pushups.
I was going to go jogging yesterday, but then didn't feel like it. I just sat instead.
I was considering going jogging today, but didn't feel like it. I walked a bit instead.
Should go install locked handle on bedroom door.
Maybe I should just put some thick plastic on the floor, and some of the big leftover tiles over that, without any adhesive or grout. Or maybe I should just tape shut the torn part of the linoleum, and put the tiles over it. Even though they won't fit right in the space. Would need to cut them to size. That would be difficult.
I will have to call a different electrician up. If the other guy doesn't want my business bad enough to even call me back with the estimate like he said he would, he won't get it.
Maybe I should do some of the work myself. I've grounded an outlet before. I guess I could do as good a job as they would do, perhaps. I can put the pull-switch on the kitchen light myself, so I guess I'll do that part myself at least. I just want the wiring done right. But there's no guarantee that anyone I hire would do it right. They might do as amateur a job as me.
Oh dear, now I can hear them from this room too. She is shouting. He wants her leave him alone while he finishes the yardwork.
I have to decide on a washer and dryer. I need to fix the floor in the washer/dryer area first, because the linoleum is torn. Or should I just leave it torn? I don't want to. But I don't want to buy a vinyl floor product. And I don't want to deal with adhesives. And tile is complicated too. Why is it all so complicated???
Maybe I will need to hire a plumber to replace all the shut-off valves, so I can at least turn them.
I've felt vaguely moody, like crying. I notice it mostly at work... then I finally come home and don't find the time to relax and cry.
Oh, look. The moon.
I was wondering, what is more important in a romantic relationship. Feeling comforted by the other person's presence, or feeling excited?
Tired. Hungry. Should go cry. Should go eat. Should go do pushups.
I was going to go jogging yesterday, but then didn't feel like it. I just sat instead.
I was considering going jogging today, but didn't feel like it. I walked a bit instead.
Should go install locked handle on bedroom door.
Maybe I should just put some thick plastic on the floor, and some of the big leftover tiles over that, without any adhesive or grout. Or maybe I should just tape shut the torn part of the linoleum, and put the tiles over it. Even though they won't fit right in the space. Would need to cut them to size. That would be difficult.
(no subject)
Wednesday, May 2nd, 2007 09:36 pmI like the way I look with my bangs this long, when they hang in my face. But I can't stand having them hang in my face for long. So I use pins to hold them back. But I don't like the way that looks. I have a feeling I won't like the way my hair looks even when it grows long enough to stay out of my eyes even without the pins.
I feel troubled. But I'm too busy to spend much time thinking about it. Thinking about it wouldn't do any good anyway. But I'm in a mood to cry so maybe I will think about it tonight. If I'm not so tired that I just fall asleep. Then again, I don't really feel like crying either.
The house has curious fire alarms in several of the rooms that I at first mistook for doorbells.
I feel troubled. But I'm too busy to spend much time thinking about it. Thinking about it wouldn't do any good anyway. But I'm in a mood to cry so maybe I will think about it tonight. If I'm not so tired that I just fall asleep. Then again, I don't really feel like crying either.
The house has curious fire alarms in several of the rooms that I at first mistook for doorbells.
(no subject)
Sunday, September 17th, 2006 01:17 pmPieces Of April is a good movie. I had only seen the last part of it before, so today I watched it again. It's quite moving... there's a scene in it that made me cry; I think it made me cry last time I saw it, too. But it's really a nice movie and even has a good ending.
epic fantasies and emotions
Sunday, April 30th, 2006 12:35 pmIn retrospect it seems rather obvious, but it's just occurred to me what my fantasies over the last few years have been lacking. And why they don't seem special anymore. They've been lacking the element of love... affection... having someone strongly caring about me, and me caring about them.
A fantasy like that isn't something that my mind can conjure up on the spur of the moment... those kinds of fantasies which I used to have tended to become epics... long stories with many chapters which I would revisit again and again, and embellish in different ways each time. But for some reason, I haven't felt like revisiting my old epic fantasies in my mind anymore. And I haven't created any new ones to replace them.
The fantasies I've been having lately have just been random short ones. The characters in them are basically strangers to me... no real personalities to them; I don't keep the same characters from one fantasy to the next... I don't even remember them well enough to use them again... They don't really care about me, nor me about them. The fantasies are sexual in nature, and I think about them simply in order to get to an orgasm while masturbating.
Yet the orgasms I get from short random fantasies like these don't seem special to me. After I've had them, I couldn't care less about having had them, or about what I was fantasizing about to get them. In retrospect, it's never been the orgasms which were so great for me, it was the accompanying emotions I felt. With my long epic fantasies, after having an orgasm, I still felt warm and fuzzy inside from the emotions. It's the emotions I craved, not so much the orgasms themselves.
Those epic fantasies gave me more than just warm and fuzzy emotions. Balancing the love and affection were other strong emotions including fear, hate, despair, and anger. I craved being able to feel those emotions too. In these fantasies, I was able to experience all these strong emotions while still being able to feel the underlying affection between me and my main counterparts. Being able to imagine all these strong emotions created a much more erotic experience for me, than the short non-emotional fantasies I've been having lately.
..
I was rather moody the last time Qiao and I were together. I felt like crying. Eventually I couldn't hold it back anymore and burst into tears... ran to the bathroom to be alone while I cried. After a bit, Qiao came for me and tried to get me to listen to him... held my face in his hands and tried to get me to look at him...
In retrospect, that experience with Qiao reminds me of a few scenes from some of my epic fantasies. Me, feeling a strong emotion of despair, yet also feeling caring and affection from my counterpart... Even being rescued from the despair by my counterpart. Me, feeling vulnerable and lost, but also feeling the presence of a strong and caring partner. Now that is the kind of scene which I can think back on, and start feeling warm and fuzzy from... it can feel erotic and can make me feel like masturbating. But surely that is an odd thing. I'm sure Qiao wouldn't want to repeat such a scene with me. I'm sure having me sad and weeping doesn't seem an erotic thing to him.
Although then again, the "being rescued" theme is a fairly common one in romances, isn't it.
A fantasy like that isn't something that my mind can conjure up on the spur of the moment... those kinds of fantasies which I used to have tended to become epics... long stories with many chapters which I would revisit again and again, and embellish in different ways each time. But for some reason, I haven't felt like revisiting my old epic fantasies in my mind anymore. And I haven't created any new ones to replace them.
The fantasies I've been having lately have just been random short ones. The characters in them are basically strangers to me... no real personalities to them; I don't keep the same characters from one fantasy to the next... I don't even remember them well enough to use them again... They don't really care about me, nor me about them. The fantasies are sexual in nature, and I think about them simply in order to get to an orgasm while masturbating.
Yet the orgasms I get from short random fantasies like these don't seem special to me. After I've had them, I couldn't care less about having had them, or about what I was fantasizing about to get them. In retrospect, it's never been the orgasms which were so great for me, it was the accompanying emotions I felt. With my long epic fantasies, after having an orgasm, I still felt warm and fuzzy inside from the emotions. It's the emotions I craved, not so much the orgasms themselves.
Those epic fantasies gave me more than just warm and fuzzy emotions. Balancing the love and affection were other strong emotions including fear, hate, despair, and anger. I craved being able to feel those emotions too. In these fantasies, I was able to experience all these strong emotions while still being able to feel the underlying affection between me and my main counterparts. Being able to imagine all these strong emotions created a much more erotic experience for me, than the short non-emotional fantasies I've been having lately.
..
I was rather moody the last time Qiao and I were together. I felt like crying. Eventually I couldn't hold it back anymore and burst into tears... ran to the bathroom to be alone while I cried. After a bit, Qiao came for me and tried to get me to listen to him... held my face in his hands and tried to get me to look at him...
In retrospect, that experience with Qiao reminds me of a few scenes from some of my epic fantasies. Me, feeling a strong emotion of despair, yet also feeling caring and affection from my counterpart... Even being rescued from the despair by my counterpart. Me, feeling vulnerable and lost, but also feeling the presence of a strong and caring partner. Now that is the kind of scene which I can think back on, and start feeling warm and fuzzy from... it can feel erotic and can make me feel like masturbating. But surely that is an odd thing. I'm sure Qiao wouldn't want to repeat such a scene with me. I'm sure having me sad and weeping doesn't seem an erotic thing to him.
Although then again, the "being rescued" theme is a fairly common one in romances, isn't it.
feline fiesta
Saturday, May 7th, 2005 11:54 amMy mom just made me laugh. As I was going to the mailbox, she was by her car, scrubbing it with a sponge. She exclaimed "The cats had a party on my car!" Pawprints were all over the hood. "And look at this mark here! A cat must have slid down the windshield!" Can you picture it? :D
I shall make some baklava now. For my foster sister's birthday and for my mom, since tomorrow is mother's day, and since they both like it. And for me, of course.
The green color in my hair fades rather fast. After 2 weeks, the bleached parts were already starting to show. But this cream-type dye is quite easy to apply, much less of a mess and hassle than I originally envisioned, so it doesn't really matter that it doesn't last long. One just needs to brush some of the dye in with an old toothbrush, let it sit half an hour or so, then take a shower and rinse the hair out well. And use an old towel for drying the hair, so that it won't matter if the towel gets stained.
Lying in bed this morning, I told myself that I'm a good person. That I'm a likeable person. That I'm worthy of being loved. And for some reason, it made me want to cry.
It doesn't matter how many people would or could or do think I'm lovable... if I can't envision feeling that way about them. It's so hard for me to envision anyone whom I would want to have a close, caring, serious relationship with. There's been only one person so far in my life, who's affected me enough to make me think I might in some ways feel that way about them, and even with them, there were just as many reasons for me not to feel that way about them. And that was someone who didn't even seem to like me very much.
But I do seem to have some belief in destiny. If something is meant to be, it will be. And if not, then not. Maybe I'm meant to meet someone special someday. Maybe I'm not meant to, and it won't ever happen. Maybe neither option is inherently worse than the other.
And I was crying yesterday again, and observing again, that the act of feeling sad and crying, isn't really such a bad thing. I can feel my chest constricting in anger, my mind shrieking incoherently, the warm tears flowing and dripping... my legs shivering... perhaps it is even like an orgasm... the emotion isn't such a bad feeling itself, when one doesn't pay attention to the thoughts which spark the emotion. Maybe it's even rather nice... maybe that is why I feel like crying sometimes, because it feels good...
I shall make some baklava now. For my foster sister's birthday and for my mom, since tomorrow is mother's day, and since they both like it. And for me, of course.
The green color in my hair fades rather fast. After 2 weeks, the bleached parts were already starting to show. But this cream-type dye is quite easy to apply, much less of a mess and hassle than I originally envisioned, so it doesn't really matter that it doesn't last long. One just needs to brush some of the dye in with an old toothbrush, let it sit half an hour or so, then take a shower and rinse the hair out well. And use an old towel for drying the hair, so that it won't matter if the towel gets stained.
Lying in bed this morning, I told myself that I'm a good person. That I'm a likeable person. That I'm worthy of being loved. And for some reason, it made me want to cry.
It doesn't matter how many people would or could or do think I'm lovable... if I can't envision feeling that way about them. It's so hard for me to envision anyone whom I would want to have a close, caring, serious relationship with. There's been only one person so far in my life, who's affected me enough to make me think I might in some ways feel that way about them, and even with them, there were just as many reasons for me not to feel that way about them. And that was someone who didn't even seem to like me very much.
But I do seem to have some belief in destiny. If something is meant to be, it will be. And if not, then not. Maybe I'm meant to meet someone special someday. Maybe I'm not meant to, and it won't ever happen. Maybe neither option is inherently worse than the other.
And I was crying yesterday again, and observing again, that the act of feeling sad and crying, isn't really such a bad thing. I can feel my chest constricting in anger, my mind shrieking incoherently, the warm tears flowing and dripping... my legs shivering... perhaps it is even like an orgasm... the emotion isn't such a bad feeling itself, when one doesn't pay attention to the thoughts which spark the emotion. Maybe it's even rather nice... maybe that is why I feel like crying sometimes, because it feels good...
It seems like more than half the time, perhaps 2/3s even, after these bdsm-related get-togethers, I end up being sad and crying... weeping, while driving home. Perhaps it wouldn't be quite so bad if I at least understood why I was crying.
Just the stress of being around people? Nah, I don't usually cry on the way home from work. But then again, at work, I'm in my cubicle a good bit of the time, doing useful, productive stuff. And when I don't have useful, productive stuff to do at work, I am more likely to feel like crying...
First of all, I didn't even realize it was going to be an all-out play-party. Which is a bit stupid, I guess, considering that the other times at their house, it wasn't unusual for play to occur. But before, it was never like this, with everyone else ending up playing besides me (and besides her, being the good host that she is)...
And the music... I have to stop having this desire to give people music. It's obvious they don't much like my kind of music... Or if they do, it doesn't really matter, because I end up feeling stupid about it anyway.
And my cornpuffs, my last bag of cornpuffs until I go to Kroger again... normally when I bring a snack, I leave the leftovers for the host, because they deserve at least that much for having gone thru the trouble of hosting the get-together... But this time, I wanted my leftover cornpuffs. And so I focused on the first part of the remark "You can take them home with you if you want. If not, I'll eat them up" and took them. I hope it wasn't rude.
Last year, I wrote...
"eh. / stupid me, i could have gone to a play-party / but i didn't feel like signing up for it. / stupid me.
oh get real. / you'd just be sitting there watching people / and not doing anything / and not talking to anyone / and getting bored."
And it was like that yesterday. On the one hand, it was interesting. Seeing people I hadn't seen play before, play. Seeing the beginnings of a cutting being done. Seeing needles being poked through breasts. Watching someone moan happily and giggle, and eagerly hand him another needle. Watching the newspaper turn into green flames in the fireplace.
But on the other hand, it was a bit boring.... or whatever it is, when one is just sitting there, watching. The sad thing being, that I didn't even have any desire to participate myself (and if someone had offered, I probably would have declined, and then felt bad about having declined). I have no desire to play with them... Sure, I could let someone beat on me, or poke needles in me, etc., but there doesn't seem any point to it at all. I might as well just sit and watch, for all that I would get from it.
The only person I have the desire to do that kind of stuff with so far, is Wododu. Because he affects me in some mental D/s and fluttery-in-my-stomach way. And I don't understand why I might even let him poke needles through my breasts... into my nipples... when with anyone else, the thought of that would bother me too much. But shouldn't it bother me with him, too? He's no different from them; he doesn't really seem to understand either. It doesn't make sense, the way I feel with him.
But yesterday towards the end, with me sitting on the steps and wondering how it happened that I was sitting alone there, while everyone else no longer involved in play was sitting and chatting in the next room... wondering what I did wrong, to end up over here and not over there... but thinking that I didn't really want to be over there, listening to them chat, either...
And thinking, what is the point of all this? And thinking that I shouldn't go to any more get-togethers or meet&greets or munches, when all it does is make me want to cry. And thinking that I'll probably feel different in a few days again anyway (I never feel this way before an event), and thinking that I can't just drop out of the group right now, because then maybe they'd think that I was disturbed by the play I saw at the play-party, when it's not that at all... And thinking that maybe I shouldn't even go see Wododu again, because what is the point of that, either??
Just the stress of being around people? Nah, I don't usually cry on the way home from work. But then again, at work, I'm in my cubicle a good bit of the time, doing useful, productive stuff. And when I don't have useful, productive stuff to do at work, I am more likely to feel like crying...
First of all, I didn't even realize it was going to be an all-out play-party. Which is a bit stupid, I guess, considering that the other times at their house, it wasn't unusual for play to occur. But before, it was never like this, with everyone else ending up playing besides me (and besides her, being the good host that she is)...
And the music... I have to stop having this desire to give people music. It's obvious they don't much like my kind of music... Or if they do, it doesn't really matter, because I end up feeling stupid about it anyway.
And my cornpuffs, my last bag of cornpuffs until I go to Kroger again... normally when I bring a snack, I leave the leftovers for the host, because they deserve at least that much for having gone thru the trouble of hosting the get-together... But this time, I wanted my leftover cornpuffs. And so I focused on the first part of the remark "You can take them home with you if you want. If not, I'll eat them up" and took them. I hope it wasn't rude.
Last year, I wrote...
"eh. / stupid me, i could have gone to a play-party / but i didn't feel like signing up for it. / stupid me.
oh get real. / you'd just be sitting there watching people / and not doing anything / and not talking to anyone / and getting bored."
And it was like that yesterday. On the one hand, it was interesting. Seeing people I hadn't seen play before, play. Seeing the beginnings of a cutting being done. Seeing needles being poked through breasts. Watching someone moan happily and giggle, and eagerly hand him another needle. Watching the newspaper turn into green flames in the fireplace.
But on the other hand, it was a bit boring.... or whatever it is, when one is just sitting there, watching. The sad thing being, that I didn't even have any desire to participate myself (and if someone had offered, I probably would have declined, and then felt bad about having declined). I have no desire to play with them... Sure, I could let someone beat on me, or poke needles in me, etc., but there doesn't seem any point to it at all. I might as well just sit and watch, for all that I would get from it.
The only person I have the desire to do that kind of stuff with so far, is Wododu. Because he affects me in some mental D/s and fluttery-in-my-stomach way. And I don't understand why I might even let him poke needles through my breasts... into my nipples... when with anyone else, the thought of that would bother me too much. But shouldn't it bother me with him, too? He's no different from them; he doesn't really seem to understand either. It doesn't make sense, the way I feel with him.
But yesterday towards the end, with me sitting on the steps and wondering how it happened that I was sitting alone there, while everyone else no longer involved in play was sitting and chatting in the next room... wondering what I did wrong, to end up over here and not over there... but thinking that I didn't really want to be over there, listening to them chat, either...
And thinking, what is the point of all this? And thinking that I shouldn't go to any more get-togethers or meet&greets or munches, when all it does is make me want to cry. And thinking that I'll probably feel different in a few days again anyway (I never feel this way before an event), and thinking that I can't just drop out of the group right now, because then maybe they'd think that I was disturbed by the play I saw at the play-party, when it's not that at all... And thinking that maybe I shouldn't even go see Wododu again, because what is the point of that, either??
summer nights
Tuesday, June 24th, 2003 09:49 pm(xposting from splinter... maybe i'm a fool...)
(maybe i'll delete it tomorrow too...)
i guess i am ugly.
who was i trying to fool.
even when i think i look good, others see me as ugly.
and when others think i look good, i see myself as ugly.
so i'm always ugly.
totally illogical, of course.
but sadness does that to a person's mind.
it's odd how crying works.
i think of things,
all manner of maudlin things,
and even though one part of my mind
sees the illogicality of what i'm thinking,
the rest of me grabs onto those thoughts
and cries over them.
they are kindling for my sorrow.
i cry about being alone,
about being unloved,
even though there are perhaps a couple of people
who think they love me...
but to me, of course, they don't count.
and so, "noone loves me. i'm all alone",
says my mind while i cry.
and tears tickle my nose....
but i am all alone
there's no one to hold me
i just want someone to hug me
at night when i'm alone...
and it's weird how i can just stop...
stop crying.
and just listen
to the night
feeling myself -
feeling nothing.
nothing matters at all.
there's nothing to cry about, really.
it's only when i compare myself
to what i think others have;
when i think about other people
having love and friendship,
that i cry over not having any.
but when i don't think about other people,
there is nothing to cry about.
there is nothing.
i lie there
on my back
listening to the night.
feeling nothing.
just emptiness.
what should be sad about emptiness?
crying makes no sense
but i do it anyway
because it feels good
in a bad sort of way
of course i would take it!
of course i would!
what kind of a fool would i be to not do so?!
but of course
i am an ugly fool
beauty means nothing
maybe sometimes i do that to my face
to make my physical reflection
match what i feel.
(maybe i'll delete it tomorrow too...)
i guess i am ugly.
who was i trying to fool.
even when i think i look good, others see me as ugly.
and when others think i look good, i see myself as ugly.
so i'm always ugly.
totally illogical, of course.
but sadness does that to a person's mind.
it's odd how crying works.
i think of things,
all manner of maudlin things,
and even though one part of my mind
sees the illogicality of what i'm thinking,
the rest of me grabs onto those thoughts
and cries over them.
they are kindling for my sorrow.
i cry about being alone,
about being unloved,
even though there are perhaps a couple of people
who think they love me...
but to me, of course, they don't count.
and so, "noone loves me. i'm all alone",
says my mind while i cry.
and tears tickle my nose....
but i am all alone
there's no one to hold me
i just want someone to hug me
at night when i'm alone...
and it's weird how i can just stop...
stop crying.
and just listen
to the night
feeling myself -
feeling nothing.
nothing matters at all.
there's nothing to cry about, really.
it's only when i compare myself
to what i think others have;
when i think about other people
having love and friendship,
that i cry over not having any.
but when i don't think about other people,
there is nothing to cry about.
there is nothing.
i lie there
on my back
listening to the night.
feeling nothing.
just emptiness.
what should be sad about emptiness?
crying makes no sense
but i do it anyway
because it feels good
in a bad sort of way
of course i would take it!
of course i would!
what kind of a fool would i be to not do so?!
but of course
i am an ugly fool
beauty means nothing
maybe sometimes i do that to my face
to make my physical reflection
match what i feel.
