Discuss amongst yourselves:

The part of him that he thinks will eventually make me leave is the very part of him that makes me want to stay.

Go.

Truth is

He's bugging me. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be around him. He hurt me the other night... did he hurt me? No. He irritated me. And I couldn't believe he was saying some of the things he was saying. I've never known anyone who is so insecure and full of himself at the same time. He sees the world differently than I do, he sees the world differently than I thought he did. I thought he had an internal strength that I'm not so sure exists anymore. I thought he was a doer but I'm starting to wonder if he's just a whiner. I don't know. Whatever. It will pass. Or it won't. Only time will tell.

What I wish I could say

You people are driving me nuts with your moaning and groaning and poor-me-ing. Give it the fuck up already. Here's the deal - you have a problem, you figure out whether or not there is something you can do about it. It will either be beyond your control or there will be a solution out there somewhere. If it's out of your control, let it go. You have to let it go and accept that there's nothing you can do to fix it. If you can fix it, then fucking fix it already. What are you waiting for? Do you enjoy bitching and whining, moaning and groaning? Because, if you do, have at it... but I have no interest in sticking around to listen to it.

Hitting A Home Run

- taken from January edition of that coffee talk or whatever they call the thingy they have at restaurants.

We've heard it all, the inane question asked by sports commentators, "How did you hit that home run?" Followed by the equally inane answer by the player, who, fearing that the real answer will not be enough, gives us an elaborate, meaningless diatribe on what we have just seen.

It's safe to say that we have all met those who are unhappy with life. They blame their government, their union or professional association, their co-workers or competitors, the banks or international trade. Anything but themselves.

It is also safe to say that five years from now these people will be singing the same tune, only some of the words they may have changed. The life they lead will be the same, they will still be unhappy and will have had an affect on as many people as possible; "misery loves company". The reason they are that way is that they are not participants in life, they are spectators. Oh, they do the work they are doing, but they watch the changes happen, not make them happen. To have a life in which you are happy you must play the game.

So, how do you hit a home run? The answer that the ball player didn't give, the simple answer is... "I stepped up to the plate, focused, swung the bat and the rest is history."

Sometimes you'll hit a single or double and occasionally you will hit a home run. But nothing happens until you participate. Only then will you become a winner. We are all meant to be winners, we all have the ability. So step up to the plate, swing the bat and participate.

Love and life and learning

It bothers me a little how I talk about Jeff here sometimes. I hope you understand that I mainly come here to vent, bitch and complain. I come here to say the things I don't want to say anywhere else. I need to get the poison out but I also know that the moods and problems and complaints pass.

I love this man. In a way I've never loved anyone. It's weird. Sometimes I look at him and wonder... why. What makes him different? He is special, there is no denying that but what is so special about us? Where does this magnetic attraction come from.

But you and I both know that it's something that will never be answered. It just is. Fate. A freak union. Amazing combination of values and traits and life experience. He's the one. The love of my life. And every time it gets bad, it immediately gets better and better. He's my mate, my lover, my sparing partner, my other half, my best friend. He's everything. And I hope for many many years together.

Damn you, MN

Mother nature is a mean spirited whore! She makes me horny as fuck but turns me into a moody bitch so no one in their right mind would do me anyway. Although no one could ever claim that Jeff is in his right mind...

*sigh*

I feel like dry humping my hand. Even my own cleavage is turning me on. You know how a cat in heat comes at you ass out? Yep. That's me today. And it's fucking hell.

Sucks to be me. I guess I'll get over it. Can't stop laughing at the irony of my Tumblr post the other day saying that I'm sexually satisfied for the first time in my life... haven't had sex since. A week. A WEEK!!!!

*sigh*

Guess I'll go eat something.

*sigh*

And the winner is

The problem with getting high is that it's virtually impossible to quiet your mind. I could see why this stuff drove Jeff crazy, because his brain was working at that speed already. The added spin would sucked.

But you know what's funny? When my mind starts going, I have a different voice. A negative voice. But I can not fucking keep track of anything for more than a damn minute!

This is what made this happen... this life that I'm living. This person I am now. Getting stoned brough out the other voice and the yes and the no fought it out. One was saying no you can't and the other saying fuck yeah you can. And that's all fine and dandy. It's great in fact. But someone had to win.

Yessuh

I'm stoned again. I like it. But I don't like it. My brain is going a million miles a minute and I can't turn it off. Not thinking anything particularly different or new, just uncontrollably jumping from one to another. This is why I was so good at Sudoku when I was stoned. I could think of an exceptional amount of things at the same time. That's why it's hard to get down to the problem at hand, isn't it? It's probably also why my other journals are barely readable. Because - What was I just thinking about?

Anyways, the problem with Jeff. I don't know. He's... there's something about the way he treats me sometimes.  I wonder if he's subconsciously treating me the way he saw his dad treat his mom. Because we do that in fun, that's not him being the boss. It's both of us having a conversation and coming to a mutual understanding. Or not. The thing is I'm always the one who backs down. He flips out or... you know what? It'll work itself out. I do need to be more straightforward with him but it's going to take some easing into.

He says I'm always questioning him or something. Disbelieving. But I'm just disagreeing. That's what we do, we discuss. And it works out great most of the time.

But I don't want to be his mother and I certainly don't want him to be his father. Is it a lack of respect? Or is it insecurity that causes it? You know what? It truly doesn't matter.

I don't like his attitude. His blatant negativity. I don't care if you're grumpy sometimes but everything is not crap every time.

I don't like how he talks to me. I understand he's curmudgeonly... he's even prideful about it. But it frequently feels like it's directed toward me. Like I'm intentionally trying to bug him. Or I can never do enough. I speak when I shouldn't have or say something he didn't want to hear. He calls me names. I fucking hate that. I do that enough inside my own head. He's supposed to be the one to take those names away.

Like everything, though, it needs time. We are working toward something. Why do I feel afraid that he's not working toward the same things I am?

Frust

I laughed when I read the last post. It wasn't a happy silly laugh, more eye-rolling yeah right. We've been getting on each other's nerves pretty much since the day I wrote it. Well, he's been getting on my nerves at least.

I don't even know what to say about it because I'm pretty frustrated and he's sitting across the room from me. He's going to work soon. I'm trying to decide whether or not I want to get stoned like I did on Friday night. Calvin sent me 7 doobies for Christmas but I don't want to go back to being stoned all the time. But, then again, part of me wants to do exactly that.

Damn, I'm frustrated right now.