Ink

He is getting me a new tattoo!  A heart wrapped in a whip with his name.  I can't wait.  Hopefully this weekend.  If not then, soon.

I never thought I would saythis, but the Rob Zombie Halloween 2 remake was awful. So awful we couldn't even sit through the whole thing.  Most of the time, it was straight up boring.  And the rest of the time, it was trying too hard.  A shame really.

Friday, Sweet Beautiful Friday

Another day, another doctor.  This is getting old.  Maybe this one will be able to figure what the hell is going wrong?  I'm not really holding my breath.  At this point, anything short of "You have x amount of time to live" is going to be ok by me, really.  


It is Friday though.  Now that we know where we are going, I am knee deep in planning and hunting and comparing.  Technically, a form of shopping.  So this is my department.  I love this bit.

Amazons in the Mist

Less than two weeks! Oh this is gonna be fun.

I have a hell of a lot of fun coming up in February. I'll talk more after I step out of the smoldering ruins. Between cackles.

I must say - the wii fit is FUN! I've been having a blast with the newest toy.

The Frustrating Horray!

Sometimes having a uterus really blows.  I am having another one of those month long bleeding problems.  Anyway, one of the side effects is severe bloating.  Weight gain is also one of the side effects of my medication.  Which has slowed my loss rate to normal.  I am still losing, but at a pound and a half a week instead of three.  I pushed at the gym all week to make sure I managed that much.  Given my little medical issue, I should be packing it on.  Fuck that! 

It would be less annoying if I wasn't 2 pounds from my next goal.  I bet I would hit it easy if I removed my uterus this week with a rusty spoon.  I have amazing kids, and I have as many of them as I plan to.  My uterus is only slowing me down these days.

Patience... not my strong point. I better leave one of the spoons out and hope for rain.

One upside side effect.  Bags of too big clothes to bring in for the Haiti charity drive at the office.  I won't be needing anything in those sizes again.  And a lasting side effect of pregnancy - a box of shoes that are now too small to go with them.

Fuck You, Pat Robertson

I hope you die, Pat Robertson. I don't mean this in a general pass away quietly in the night kind of way. I hope its as agonizingly painful as is humanly possible to remain conscious for and lasts a really long time. Like a million ant bites on top of body wide third degree burns. You are a bubbling pile of pus sewn in a bag made of discarded infected pig foreskins.

There is no god. No magic sky wizard is waiting to award your evil egocentric insanity. But right here, in this world, you are nothing but a black hole of waste. Its unfortunate your mother didn't abort you from her fetid womb when she had the chance and instead chose to infect the world with the horror that is you. I'd call you one of the worst humans ever but I can't think of you as human.

Hope you die, hope it hurts. Hope they use your body as slop for pigs that will be sent to feed the people of Haiti. Its the only possible way you'd be of any use to anyone.

Asshole.

"I got the ways and means to New Orleans"

Its time for a bit of grown up alone time. Now the challenge... Where to wander? There are plus and minus columns for each.

New Orleans is definately a party town. I don't think there's anywhere in the country better for drunken debauchery. But we've both been there before. Hell, he lived there. The food isn't really a consideration for me anymore.

He mentioned San Francisco. Its apparently a beautiful city. We haven't gone all the way to the west coast yet. Its certainly a change in scenery. Florida is a bit flat. I think Alcatraz would be interesting. The statewide no smoking rules aren't the negative they once were. However, I'm well convinced that everyone that lives in that State is either batshit crazy, drooling stupid, or both. Its like France. I'm not sure anything you can see there is worth dealing with the locals. Oh and I'm pretty sure the entire place is going to break off and fall into the ocean. And its a long assed flight.

There's Vegas. Vegas, baby, Vegas!!!! Again, there's the been there before. Again, drunken debauchery. Lots of topplessness. And craps! We had a lot of fun learning and playing craps last time. Again, long assed flight. But hearing 9% humidity on the morning news is amusing to Floridians.

Also in the running, currently in the lead, is D.C. The Smithsonian particularly. Along with the monuments. I've been, but in elementary school. Downside is its hella cold. That could be an upside though. Snow!

We'll see what he decides on.

Disappearing Act

Around the last week of August, I decided it was time for me to get off my huge ass and make a change in my lifestyle. I've been fat a LONG time. After my second child it just crazy out of control. Like could qualify as a contestant for The Biggest Loser fat. It was effecting my health.

So...no big drama, no New Year resolution, no fanfare, I changed.

I've gotten to the stage where someone says something about it every day.

The strange thing is, I don't see it at all. Considering I have lost 60 pounds, I can't imagine there isn't a change in my appearance. I am down 4 dress sizes. My lover says he can feel the difference when he wraps his arms around me.

But I don't see it. At all.

Intellectually I realize it is not possible that there is no change. I have lost more than my 9 year old weighs. I have lost 3 of my baby. When I think about it in those terms I realize that dropping that much explains why I feel so much better. I am carrying a lot less. And I am doing it with more muscle. But I still don't see any difference in myself. I have had a life long problem with eating disorders and I realize that my internalized self image is undoubtedly a part of that.

The thing is, I am not sure what to do about it. I may always be locked into a specific mental image. But if I feel better, does it really matter?

The A-Team

I <3 karma.

Ressurection

If all goes well, my best friend will be back by the beginning of February.

Now is the time for the Muahahahaahahas.

I'll wait.

All done? Good.

I would pray for things to go well, but I'd have to fake it. I am sure she will have it all covered. I'm a bit fuzzy on the wiccan details, I'll have to ask.

Funniest thing is, of the two of us, for some reason it was always assumed by others that I was the witch. Lapsed Catholic, atheist, anti-theist, yes. Witch? Well, not in the religious sense of the word.

It was also assumed that I was the nice one. All things considered, that's even funnier.

My tarot hobby confuses a lot of people. I don't believe in the sky wizzards. Any sky wizzards. I do, however, believe in the subconscious, meditation and artwork. Maybe its a cultural heritage thing. I am part gypsy, after all.

Though that probably just explains my love of sausage.

Flower Farting Slaves

We goth folk have a certain subset of extremely annoying people we have to deal with - Bat Farting Goths. They are almost unbearably pretentious. They do things like say "Oh my goth!" instead of "Oh my god!" They mope - a LOT - about absolutely nothing. And it takes about 10 minutes of exposure to one before you want to stab them in the fucking eye.
The BDSM community has its own annoying bastard cousin - the Flower Farting Slave. (Most often found among online female Gor slaves.) The wax poetic about the fire that burns in their belly. (I'm not sure why imagery of severe indigestion or a raging case of V.D. is supposed to be erotic.) They speak in the third person. (Sort of like punch drunk boxers or real estate magnates with bad toupees. Again, not sure why that is supposed to be attractive.) There are frequent mentions of quivering, flowing hair and, of course, the opening and closing of all doors with the ass.
For the Flower Farting Slave, its all poetry and bullshit. Getting a cup of coffee is something they seem to imagine takes half an hour, involves a large amount of humping the counter and the most important part of the coffee is how they swished their way through it rather than, say, the COFFEE!
It takes even less than 10 minutes before you want to stab them in the eye.
The reality of a collar will be an inevitable disappointment to the flower farting slave because, in the end, all that flowery imagery has no real bearing on reality. The realities of how humans actually interact will never live up to the world of perfect make believe they immerse themselves in.
Still, its good to have a bit of comic relief. I know the moment I see someone type out a lengthy beg for this girl to please beg to enter the room, blah blah blah, the fucktardery parade has begun! I grab a sparkler and go grab some coffee. (In under an hour.)

The Hamster Wheel

Yesterday my best friend and I were discussing personal evolution and its effect on relationships. My lover often says that most people are not truly sentient. I have to agree. Given what I do for a living, I witness a LOT of breakups. Many have some common themes.

Change is often a big part of splits. Either its presence or absence.

Its presence is obvious. The person you're with suddenly decides to dedicate their life to Jesus and you're not down with a non-stop convo on their invisible undead vampire cannibal invisible friend. The cause of the end of your relationship is rather obvious. Similarly the misplaced belief that you can change someone is a sure death knell every time. You will either fail and resent the person you failed to manipulate, or succeed and they will resent you. These break ups tend to the ugly more volatile angry type.

Less obviious but just as common is the absence of change. A failure to evolve. If you are changing and moving forward at a significantly faster pace than your counterpart, eventually you're going to leave them behind. These are generally the less volatile puzzled we just grew apart breakups.

Similarly those incapable of personal evolution will also inevitably get left behind. Those that end up in the same loop of bad relationships with the same sort of loser over and over, always blaming everyone else. Each new relationship doomed from day 1 to follow the same mindless path. Those people will end up left behind every time because they do not evolve as people.

A great disparity in intelligence also seems to meet with repeated failure. I've been through it. A less intelligent partner growing resentful. I once knew a girl who had her self esteem so messed up by being far less intelligent than her partner she swore to never be with a man who was "too smart" again. Last I knew she suceeded spectacularly on that front with a series of knuckle draggers so unevolved they were a public embarassment. (It actually led to my own personal vow - I won't put up with anyone's pet moron ever again. I just can't handle socializing with stupid.) But with the exception of a need to sheild one's ego with the secret knowlege that you don't believe a word you say when you tell a man who is clearly an idiot how brilliant he is, the usual outcome of dating someone far less intelligent than yourself ends and ends badly.

There was an episode of House where a genius poisons himself to lower his intelligence so he can be happy in his marriage. He points out there is a greater difference in IQ between his wife and himself than between his wife and a monkey. Without doping himself, to him, its like sleeping with a monkey. I understand. I am done with monkeys.

Where the Fuck Are You Going?

Log on to any random BDSM website and start to read what some of the "Dominants" post. Pick one at random. If you are feeling particularly masochistic, try a Gorean one. They like to wax philosophical and all. Go ahead... I'll wait right here.

How long did it take to make your eye start to twitch? How many seconds before you actually said "What the fuck is wrong with this idiot" out loud?

Now realize - somewhere out there, someone at some point probably thought that taking directions from this twitch worthy pile of fucktardery was the direction their life should take. Pretty fucking terrifying, eh?

Let me know when the screaming stops.

Its amazing I get through the day without setting more people on fire, it really is. I am starting to understand how Van Helsing felt.

Once More Into the Fray... of Netflix Instant View

I am going to miss David Tennant. He was a great Doctor. I am willing to give the new Doctor a shot, though those few minutes left me with the impression a) he is trying too hard to be the 10th Doctor and b) he's a fucking fetus. I have shoes older than that kid.

I saw an unusual little movie today. Netherbeast Incorporated. It was... odd. But adorable. And how can you NOT love a movie with Dave Foley and Jason Mewes and Steve in the Striped Shirt from Blues Clues as cannibal vampire immortal telephone salesmen?

And then I watched The Confederate States of America. Wow. Just... Wow! Its a mockumentary. What would happen if the South had received European support and been the ones to win the Civil War. Slavery continues. Liberals move to Canada. (Hmmm... I will have to remember that one.) The CSA start exporting slavery to get over the stock crash. The CSA ends up supporting Hitler, and encouraging him to start using the Jews as slaves rather than kill them. A ball the length of the Canadian border called the "cotton curtain". But the part that really made me twitch were the "commercials".

Somewhere right now there is a NASCAR fan blowing a load so hard its getting in his mullet and all over his neon beer sign watching this.

Creepy Tractors

Wales is full of creepy tractors.

Its fun to go to the grocery store at 7:00 a.m. on New Year's Day if you aren't much of a drinker. Cashiers of the living dead. It seems somehow appropriate that I had thrown on my Zombie t-shirt before heading out. We had dinner and a movie but I was sober by my midnight kiss so no hangover this morning.

Alcohol isn't really worth the calories. I managed to lose Thanksgiving and Christmas, I don't want to backslide now. I have lost weight every week for over four months. And despite my co-workers constantly calling me skinny, I have a good way to go still.

I want to try suspension bondage, which means I need to keep it up.