Tuesday, August 23, 2011

In which I flaunt my spectacular ability to injure myself...

Recently I have been finding some very cool blogs to follow, a bunch of which are written by some amazingly funny ladies who, half the time, I think are either related to me or spying on me through my magic laptop because the coincidences are just uncanny. One of these wondermus blogs is Cheesy Bloggers, who throw out weekly themes and calls for submissions - as in a written submission for a post, not the BDSM kind, which kinda freaks me out still even though I had some past partners who were really into - you know what? Never mind. Back to the weekly theme.

Sunday, August 21, 2011

this has no title, i'm just complaining here because my cats won't hug me

I really want this anxiety to stop.

It's multi-layered right now...
  • starting grad school in 2 weeks
  • seeing babies babies everywhere and I'm 37 and childless and my partner has just decided that he does not want biological children
  • weddings everywhere I fucking turn leaving me with that awful empty hole that society has programmed me to think I am supposed to feel because I have not taken part in the ridiculousness that I loathe and yet still crave with every fucking breath
  • still processing Wednesday's therapy session
...and on top of it all I feel like crap. More on that later, maybe.

For now I would like my heart to stop pounding, be able to catch a breath and just relax my way into slumber. I kinda feel like I wanna crawl out of my skin.

Saturday, August 20, 2011

Possibly triggering - abuse & healing stuff

I started this entry several days ago and was too chicken to post it... Ok, well, maybe not so much chicken as I was trying to work things out in my head and get through the experience. So now that I've gotten through the worst of the big bad scary deal, here it is.

Friday, August 12, 2011

How legal blogs lead to sex toys

Earlier today I was busy taking a break from watching the Disney channel and catching up on my blog reading when I came to this post about roadkill... which made me think of the time I saw a freshly killed beaver up close and personal on the side of the road and how suprisingly huge it was... which led me to google beavers to see just how big they actually get (3 ft. long, 15 in. high and up to 66 lbs., according to Beaver Pictures & Facts) when I come across this.

*dramatic breath*

Um... ok. You know, some things just don't need to be made. Seriously. And whoever came up with this idea got it backwards, anyway. The beaver is the thing in which you put the vibe. But back to my original point, some things just do not need to be made. They muck up my brain. Like gum on a shoe. Messy and annoying and now matter how much you try you just can't remove it all. Not that I have a thing against sex toys. To the contrary, I am endlessly entertained *ahem* by the new and different toys that people come up with. Rabbits, I get. The whole F***ing like rabbits thing, makes sense. Butterflies, dragons, sexy winged creatures, fine. I can even get down (haha) with a cute little ladybug. But beavers? WTF is sexy about an over-sized rodent with big teeth, creepy tiny hands, and a weird leathery paddle for a .....tail..... ok, you know what, nevermind...