Random Acts of Awesome

I went to my favorite tap room last night after work, looking forward to a relaxing sit by the window with a book and a beer, only to find it MOBBED. By nerds. There was an open source con going on, and they all came to MY FREAKING BAR afterwards. I saw this guy, Michael, who I’d dated for a bit a couple of months ago, standing outside and went up to chat. He’s big in the local OS community, and was at the conference giving a talk. He’d been the one to suggest Baileys as an afterhours place for them to geek out. Normally this would be fun, but I was in a mood and just wanted to chill and read my book. So I went inside, found a dark corner, and tried to look moody and uninviting. It worked, though a few nerds came up and tried to make conversation. They were easily repulsed by a vapid stare and some hair twirling, and for the most part I had my peace. As I was leaving, after the place closed, I stopped by a large group of them who were still sitting at the outdoor tables and told them t...

I have a summertime ritual of rereading a bunch of Anne Tyler books. I read them at the beach as a young adult every summer, sitting under an umbrella avoiding the sun. It was a ritual my mom and I had, and we'd switch books as we finished them. My favorite was always Ladder of Years, followed closely by Searching for Caleb. I'd sometimes read those two or three times in one summer. They haunted my imagination with their poignant love stories and both reverence for and rejection of tradition. My moms favorites were Accidental Tourist and The Tin Can tree. I think she related to the kooky love story, and the concept of the death of a child was intensely personal to her, as she'd just miscarried a little while before we started doing this. We wouldn't only read them on the beach, sometimes we'd read them on our summer porch with tea, but that's the memory re-reading those books brings up. Sitting next to my mom, surrounded by the large group of kids we always had ...

I have a feeling I'm going to be appalled at myself after I write this out, but right now I haven't been able to stop an evil, smug little smile from creeping onto my face all afternoon. So, last night, this guy B came over. I've been seeing him off and on for about 4 months now. He's got some quirks that I find annoying, but for the most part our sexual chemistry more than makes up for that. One of the most annoying quirks is his tendency to bite. Hard. I've had bruises with perfect teeth shaped imprints from him. Now, I don't actually mind biting, for the most part. I like the contrast of sensation, between arousal and pain. And this guy knows that, and has taken too free license with it in the past. I've talked to him about it, and told him to go easier, to not bite so hard. And he listened, for the most part.  But last night, he bit me really, really hard just after I'd had a REALLY intense orgasm. And that level of pain transfered all that intense f...

I'm sitting in a beer bar all alone, enjoying a nice brew, listening to Daft Punk, and ignoring the relatively nice seeming crowd around me. I should be happy. This is my scene, after all. Instead, I'm cranky as fuck. I feel like a teenager, angsty, antsy and agro. JUST SO CRANKY!!! Part of this stems from a lack of consistent sex. A larger part of it stems from a constant exposure to my ex. I love my ex. He's such a good guy. BUT OH MY HOLY FUCKING HELL, HE CAN BE A FLAMING DOUCHEBAG. He's still an invalid, and he's a bad patient. Whiney, bitchy, cranky, selfish, and full of self hate. Awesome. And I have no shields against it. You know how, when you're a kid, and you see your parents fighting, and you think "Jesus, people. If you'd just step back from your stupid egos you'd realize this is not nearly as big a deal as you're making it out to be."? And then, as you become an adult and you get involved with someone, and there's that mome...

BOOOOORE you if I want to... you would blog too if it happened to you... Jake : booooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesssssssssssss buzzing around my head me : that sounds painful... Jake : you sure are typing slowly me : I am? AM NOT! Jake : lol it said you been typing that sentence for like 3 mins me : Woah. That's creepy... Jake : yep me : Google is crazy today. Stupid google Jake : I agree stewpid pac man anniversary me : Aw. But it's so cute! Jake : LOL it is How you feelng? me : LOL. I'm good. I've got a headache, though Don't know where the fuck it came from Jake : OH noz me : Yeah. LOL Jake : That sucks me : I'm officially starting and ending every conversation with you with LOL In protest. LOL Jake : of my moms chatting skills? me : No, of YOUR chatting skills, my friend. lol Jake : :( me : That's right. It'll be like saying LIKE after someone who says like too ...

Not a warm gun. Most of the time. I was talking to a friend the other day about how frustrating lack of surety about ones future can be, and it got me thinking. The equation that kept popping into my head was : honesty = truth = surety = happiness. For me, happiness has come about because of honesty. I spent a very, very long time lying to myself. Dishonesty had to be an intrinsic part of who I was, because anything else would lead to things that were unthinkable at the time. Breaking away from that mindset, and setting in motion the unthinkable things, allowed me to embrace honesty within myself. With honesty came a knowledge of what was actually truth and what wasn't. With that knowledge came a surety about my actions. And with that surety has come the most consistent level of happiness I've ever felt. I don't have to constantly question my every thought, I don't have to ignore those truly scary realities about myself that I've always pretended weren't there. ...

Huh. I can't decide which letter I'd like to favor today. I was thinking Q, but that seems so trite. And I don't want Q to feel used by me. Maybe T. Or M. Or I. OR ALL AT ONCE! Todays post brought to you by TMI. It's been a day dominated by music. I love days like that. Each song I listen to manipulates my mood, so I make sure to listen to the type of music I want to be in the mood of. Today has alternated between filthy, maudlin, and feisty. I'm listening to The Beatles, Act Naturally at the moment. It's making me feel nostalgic. I used to listen to this album with my mom when we cleaned the house on Main Dunstable Rd. I can smell the lemon scented furniture polish right now, taste the dust on the back of my tongue, and feel the diluted yellow sunshine on my back from when I'd hide behind the couch under the window and read to escape cleaning. And now it's on to Yesterday. I can hear my mom singing this song. She was a terrible singer, with a scratchy v...