Well, part of a dream - but I'll get to that later.
First:
Yeah, there have been updates to LMDE (Linux Mint Debian Edition) and so, and all the groovy updates promised. The big one I am waiting for is the 64bit release.
I mean, am I wrong or will this require a new iso? Everything else, yeah, great, I can get through updates. Well, not exactly everything. They said they made improvements to the installer, so I need to run the installer if I want to check them out.
So I am waiting (kinda) patiently for the new 64bit iso of LMDE. But I will be all excited when it is out - probably blog all about it and stuff.
Second:
As some of you are well aware, my - er, Dad's - house plays holiday host for the holidays. People were over for Thanksgiving, and typically we get everyone again for Christmas-New Years. Yup, that's right, a week+ of "house guests."
Every time, I work hard to make sure the house is ready for everyone. Then Mum comes and re-does it all - like it was her house. So, "Why do I do it, knowing this?" you may ask. I just have to. If for no other reason than when Mum comes and moved things, there are not those "clean" spots where things were, you know? Everything is clean before she touches it. Then I have to re-clean after they go to, uh, get "them" off things.
I am doing something different this year. I am completely rearranging the house full stop. Totally mixed up the chi or whatever. Couch - over there. Radio - there. Book case - (unloaded) over there (reloaded). Etc, etc. Even the kitchen is all rearranged.
The point of all this? To change things so radically that Mum will actually _notice_ that I am taking care of it. This is still a work in progress, so we'll see how it goes. It may backfire on me and drive me nuts. Oh, and for the record, yeah, I even am doing the bedrooms.
And, third:
Before I get to the actual "dream" part of this, you gotta know the setup.
In the past, I have had (bad) dreams about waking up next to Dad in bed and (bad) dreams about waking up next to him in bed that felt so real that I ran screaming into his room waking him up with a hockey stick. Being a bit of a sleep walker, I have actually woken up in Dad's bed, being... uh... poked in the back of the leg by him*. That was a fright and he ended up getting kicked in the face before things settled down.
[edit: I should clarify that he was /sleeping/ when this happened, eh? Not his /fault/.]
Also, Amy shares my bed when everyone is over for the holidays. So, I am not completely unaccustomed to waking with someone else in bed. Now, on to the dream:
In the dream, I was dreaming about everyone being here for the holidays and having Amy around. Then, in the dream, I dreamed I woke up rather peacefully, just stretching in the sun-warmed sheets, face down and feeling the still-fresh linen against my skin. I was quickly and calmly aware of the weight of someone next to me, my skin against their smooth skin. I could feel the rhythm of their breathing and it was comforting. I kept my eyes closed against the persistent, bright sumer sun. I felt the curves of their - of her body and knew she was on her back; slight curve of breast against the my ribs. My skin felt cool against her warm body, soft and tender. I smiled from the comfort of it all as I finished my stretch then rolled to my side, away from my bedmate to look at her face. The scent was so familiar I could picture the form before me before I opened my eyes and found...
Claire.
That startled me awake for real. I should have known it was a dream from the light. There was too much light. Sunrise it not until like almost eleven. I had been expecting (in my dream) for it to have been Amy, so familiar and comfortable. I really believed my dream was real and Amy was next to me. I just knew it. Then to open my eyes and find Claire - I was instantly bombarded with new, Claire scents and rhythms. And that /light/. It was on the other side of Claire from me (well, no, it was all around such that the only things I could see were myself, the bed (and beddings) and Claire) and the light wrapped around her so tightly that I could only see her face - my mind filling in the rest of her from memory, vague and incomplete. At least she was smiling at me.
That was yesterday morning - Thursday. It kinda occupied my thoughts, leaving me lost to this distraction most of the day.
You know when you have an "off" day, right? And you can tell things are just not going the way they normally do. So, at fencing, I am off my game. Completely distracted. One guy who doesn't really beat me... doesn't really get touches on a normal day... beats me - twice - and starts talking to his buds about how much better he is because now he is better than me. He had extra toast with breakfast, and now he is better than me, so he is going to have extra toast before tournaments. He put on his right shoe first this time, so he is better than me and will now always put on his right shoe first. Some such nonsense.
On the other hand, the other, the really good fencers, are actually /more/ annoying. "Hey, there were a couple of opportunities in there you missed, thank goodness." Or, "Oh, my, I thought you were going to get me there... You normally get me with those." Etc, etc. Yeah, they could tell I was off my game, but they were trying to /help/. Even Coach started trying, but my mind just was not in it. I tried meditating, but oddly, it did not help.
Sheehs.
So, this is probably a fairly frustrating post for some of you. It touches on Linux, Family, Dreams, Fencing... if I... Oh, I think I will...
Here are the first fifteen tracks in my current playlist:
[0/2680] Lily Allen - Everything's Just Wonderful (03:29)
[1/6901] Book Of Love - I Touch Roses (Long Stemmed Version) (05:46)
[2/6891] Book Of Love - Late Show (03:38)
[3/3300] KT Tunstall - Hold On (02:58)
[4/3209] Katharine McPhee - Over It (03:35)
[5/3294] 32+-+KT+Tunstall+-+Hold+On.mp3 (02:47)
[6/6946] Everything But The Girl - Letting Love Go (04:46)
[7/6939] Everything But The Girl - Driving (04:00)
[8/4235] Yaz - And On (03:12)
[9/5702] Garbage - Wicked Ways (03:44)
[10/5660] Garbage - Cup Of Coffee (04:31)
[11/3221] Katy Perry - I Kissed A Girl (03:00)
[12/3299] KT Tunstall - Funnyman (02:56)
[13/6902] Book Of Love - Boy (Extended Mix) (04:29)
[14/3121] Gabriella Cilmi - Einstein (03:40)
Oh, Mercy... somethings in that list should be omitted. :blush:
I just finished reading The Ghost and the Goth by Stacey Kade. It was a good and light teen candy book. I have these "Candy Books" that I read from time to time. Most are Teen, or YA books, but they are fun without having a lot of weight, you know? Why I Let My Hair Grow Out, The first HP book, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, In the Stone Circle, the first Twilight book (Uh, I guess that would be Twilight) and about anything by Meg Cabbot. I mean, there are other "light reading" books I have and like and whatnot. The Pern Series, some Piers Anthony, Dresden Files, Girl Vs Evil and whatnot. But these are not like my "deep reading" like Time Travelers Wife, or Never Let Me Go, etc.
Okay... lots of topics to post for one day. Have fun...
LQ
Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts
Friday, December 10, 2010
Monday, November 29, 2010
Where do I even begin?
Actually, I have no issue with trying to figure out where to begin... I am a chronological kinda girl.
Lets see... Wed, picking up Mum.
Before we left, Amy called. She was being all sympathetic with the strain of having everyone over and wanted to know if having her here too was going to be too much. I assured her - with no pretense - that I wanted here there most of all. So, she was happy.
In the car, on the way to the airport, Dad was saying, "I know your Mum stresses you out a bit when she comes over and tries to run the house," and I say, "Gee... ya' think?" and he was like, "she just feels bad about not being able to host these shin-digs and wants to take some of the load off us." And I was like, "So, yeah, she means well, but it would be so much easier if she would just kick back and relax." So, of course, Dad comes back with, "Have you ever /told/ her that?"
What could I say? I hem-haw'd about for a bit then just resigned, "No... not, like, in /words/ and stuff."
So, yeah, my maternal unit it a bit of a control noodge, but I am not exactly the best at, like, talking and stuff.
We get her and have brunch-ish. Mum says I am looking good (she lies) and that since I am getting some hair I should let her have someone do something with it. So I take off my touque(sp) and show her that it is only growing in the front. Nothing really to do anything with. I make a mental note to get rid of it all. Hey, I tried to let it alone.
Shopping for food.
No, back up. Mum tries to get us to go clothes shopping now before the crowds hit on Friday. She gets vetoed.
Shopping for food. Mum wants to do a turkey. I want to do fish. She says, "who does fish for Thanksgiving?" I say, "Hello? Alaska? I think there is some whale in the icehouse." Mum cringes. Dad represses a giggle. No, wait... he is more manly than giggling. And that should be "suppresses", not "represses."
We compromise. Turkey.
So, on the way back to the house, I actually /tell/ Mum that she should just relax and enjoy herself. So she tells us how she wants the turkey done and starts "setting up the house for guests."
Dad and I share a private laugh. But at least she it out of the kitchen for now.
Okay, so Mum is arranging for everyone coming over - sleeping wise.
"You know, LQ, if you do not want to share your room with Amy... If you are not comfortable with that..." she says.
"Oh, no. It is fine. It would not be a family get-together without sleeping with Amy."
She raises an eyebrow at me.
"You know what I mean. And no, it won't be weird. I'm not worried about her trying anything. We're cool." And that is probably more than I have ever told Mum about my relationship with Amy.
So, we snack and cook and watch movies and play games and everyone eventually arrives.
Around the Thanksgiving dinner table.
Yes, I know that was a sentence fragment. Get over it.
Re-capping the party members:
Mum and her two ex's (Dad and Amy)
Her brother, his ex (Amy), current (Joan) and offspring (Jill)
Dad, his ex (Mum) and current (Kathy) and offspring (Me)
Amy, her two ex's (Uncle and Mum) and (?) (Me)
Joan, her current, her current's ex and her offspring
Jill and all these weirdos.
Me, surrounded by people who know far too many of my issues, all too well.
Bird is on the table. All the side are on the table. Drink glasses are full and all the places are set. I am the last one up and the bird-carving tools are still in the kitchen. So, I go pick them up and bring them to the table.
There is this... odd... silence as everyone (rug-rat excluded) is looking at /ME/ holding a /great/ /big/ knife.
I roll my eyes and hand the thing to Dad, but there is that moment. That elephant walking through the room.
I sit down, fold my arms across my chest and I think my bottom lip even stuck out just a little and Dad starts carving. (For those who may not know, I am not permitted sharp/pointy things. The failing track record I have with them is evident on my skin.)
Joan serves herself some stuffing then passes the dish. "So... how do you shave?"
After I pick up my jaw, I am actually pleased there was someone at the table over the age of /me/ who was unclear on the answer to that.
But the pleasantries for the next far-too-long pretty much ended there as the dinner conversation was centered around the fact that the seventeen year old (me) was displaying no more signs of puberty than the two-ish year old (Jill).
It did kinda end after the suggestion of getting out the CT scan of my ovaries was thrown out there.
"How about lets not," I say. I did not say, "Hey, lets /not/ get out the pictures of my crotch... again"
There is some debate on the relative merits of looking at the proof that I do actually have them. I give dad a pleading look and he kinda changes the subject and things get better after that, but I still could not really eat. Yep, I was embarrassed. I really tried to not show it, because it really was not anything to /be/ embarrassed about.
Moving on...
After dinner's cleanup was followed by much playing of Rock Band. That was cool. I mean, Mum, Kathy and I were taking turns on the vocals, Amy played drums, mostly and Dad and Uncle mostly stuck to the guitars. Joan rotated through the set here and there while entertaining Jill.
There was over all very little discussion of my inert reproductive system, my bad habits, and (most importantly) the few little gaps I have from the past few days are, well, few, and seem innocuous. Just some, "Earth to LQ - Hello - You in there?" and no one heard me talking to my food - that I am aware of.
I enjoyed a nice cup of espresso with minimal upset.
My bread pudding went over well.
I got to have some of the good scotch - but just a sip.
We did all have Guinness Punch - even Claire (I am such a bad influence - hahaha).
I ate at least something every day.
Friday, my friend Claire came over. Saturday, I went to Claire's for a while.
All in all, much of the long weekend was spent with all of us playing in the snow and me being Amy's pet like I used to. Only, now I am a little more reserved because I know what effect that has on her.
Claire did say it was a little weird seeing Amy kiss me bye. But not much weirder then seeing the general affection I show for Amy. She is way more accustomed to me keeping far more distance from people.
So, everyone is gone. The rest of the putting-the-house back in order will wait until tomorrow morning... after I post this. This was a much better holiday than last year.
Them are the highlights. I'll post this in the morning.
So for now...
Take Care -
LQ
Lets see... Wed, picking up Mum.
Before we left, Amy called. She was being all sympathetic with the strain of having everyone over and wanted to know if having her here too was going to be too much. I assured her - with no pretense - that I wanted here there most of all. So, she was happy.
In the car, on the way to the airport, Dad was saying, "I know your Mum stresses you out a bit when she comes over and tries to run the house," and I say, "Gee... ya' think?" and he was like, "she just feels bad about not being able to host these shin-digs and wants to take some of the load off us." And I was like, "So, yeah, she means well, but it would be so much easier if she would just kick back and relax." So, of course, Dad comes back with, "Have you ever /told/ her that?"
What could I say? I hem-haw'd about for a bit then just resigned, "No... not, like, in /words/ and stuff."
So, yeah, my maternal unit it a bit of a control noodge, but I am not exactly the best at, like, talking and stuff.
We get her and have brunch-ish. Mum says I am looking good (she lies) and that since I am getting some hair I should let her have someone do something with it. So I take off my touque(sp) and show her that it is only growing in the front. Nothing really to do anything with. I make a mental note to get rid of it all. Hey, I tried to let it alone.
Shopping for food.
No, back up. Mum tries to get us to go clothes shopping now before the crowds hit on Friday. She gets vetoed.
Shopping for food. Mum wants to do a turkey. I want to do fish. She says, "who does fish for Thanksgiving?" I say, "Hello? Alaska? I think there is some whale in the icehouse." Mum cringes. Dad represses a giggle. No, wait... he is more manly than giggling. And that should be "suppresses", not "represses."
We compromise. Turkey.
So, on the way back to the house, I actually /tell/ Mum that she should just relax and enjoy herself. So she tells us how she wants the turkey done and starts "setting up the house for guests."
Dad and I share a private laugh. But at least she it out of the kitchen for now.
Okay, so Mum is arranging for everyone coming over - sleeping wise.
"You know, LQ, if you do not want to share your room with Amy... If you are not comfortable with that..." she says.
"Oh, no. It is fine. It would not be a family get-together without sleeping with Amy."
She raises an eyebrow at me.
"You know what I mean. And no, it won't be weird. I'm not worried about her trying anything. We're cool." And that is probably more than I have ever told Mum about my relationship with Amy.
So, we snack and cook and watch movies and play games and everyone eventually arrives.
Around the Thanksgiving dinner table.
Yes, I know that was a sentence fragment. Get over it.
Re-capping the party members:
Mum and her two ex's (Dad and Amy)
Her brother, his ex (Amy), current (Joan) and offspring (Jill)
Dad, his ex (Mum) and current (Kathy) and offspring (Me)
Amy, her two ex's (Uncle and Mum) and (?) (Me)
Joan, her current, her current's ex and her offspring
Jill and all these weirdos.
Me, surrounded by people who know far too many of my issues, all too well.
Bird is on the table. All the side are on the table. Drink glasses are full and all the places are set. I am the last one up and the bird-carving tools are still in the kitchen. So, I go pick them up and bring them to the table.
There is this... odd... silence as everyone (rug-rat excluded) is looking at /ME/ holding a /great/ /big/ knife.
I roll my eyes and hand the thing to Dad, but there is that moment. That elephant walking through the room.
I sit down, fold my arms across my chest and I think my bottom lip even stuck out just a little and Dad starts carving. (For those who may not know, I am not permitted sharp/pointy things. The failing track record I have with them is evident on my skin.)
Joan serves herself some stuffing then passes the dish. "So... how do you shave?"
After I pick up my jaw, I am actually pleased there was someone at the table over the age of /me/ who was unclear on the answer to that.
But the pleasantries for the next far-too-long pretty much ended there as the dinner conversation was centered around the fact that the seventeen year old (me) was displaying no more signs of puberty than the two-ish year old (Jill).
It did kinda end after the suggestion of getting out the CT scan of my ovaries was thrown out there.
"How about lets not," I say. I did not say, "Hey, lets /not/ get out the pictures of my crotch... again"
There is some debate on the relative merits of looking at the proof that I do actually have them. I give dad a pleading look and he kinda changes the subject and things get better after that, but I still could not really eat. Yep, I was embarrassed. I really tried to not show it, because it really was not anything to /be/ embarrassed about.
Moving on...
After dinner's cleanup was followed by much playing of Rock Band. That was cool. I mean, Mum, Kathy and I were taking turns on the vocals, Amy played drums, mostly and Dad and Uncle mostly stuck to the guitars. Joan rotated through the set here and there while entertaining Jill.
There was over all very little discussion of my inert reproductive system, my bad habits, and (most importantly) the few little gaps I have from the past few days are, well, few, and seem innocuous. Just some, "Earth to LQ - Hello - You in there?" and no one heard me talking to my food - that I am aware of.
I enjoyed a nice cup of espresso with minimal upset.
My bread pudding went over well.
I got to have some of the good scotch - but just a sip.
We did all have Guinness Punch - even Claire (I am such a bad influence - hahaha).
I ate at least something every day.
Friday, my friend Claire came over. Saturday, I went to Claire's for a while.
All in all, much of the long weekend was spent with all of us playing in the snow and me being Amy's pet like I used to. Only, now I am a little more reserved because I know what effect that has on her.
Claire did say it was a little weird seeing Amy kiss me bye. But not much weirder then seeing the general affection I show for Amy. She is way more accustomed to me keeping far more distance from people.
So, everyone is gone. The rest of the putting-the-house back in order will wait until tomorrow morning... after I post this. This was a much better holiday than last year.
Them are the highlights. I'll post this in the morning.
So for now...
Take Care -
LQ
Saturday, November 6, 2010
I likez me some cheezies
Hot apple cider, crackers and cheese while watching The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus. Film ended and I left Dad and his lady friend to have the livingroom to themselves. (It is better than me thinking about them going off to his bedroom together. But then, I do sit on that sofa from time to time.) Pay me no attention there. I don't /know/ if they have even taken their relationship to that level. Best if I try to not think about it much.
It has been a busier day that I anticipated and I think I am going to turn in early. Already have the music going and just finished polishing the pearlies.
But... I have some old Win apps from Dad that I want to check out. Do I run me some virtual Windoze, or set up WINE? What's your opinion?
Take Care-
LQ
It has been a busier day that I anticipated and I think I am going to turn in early. Already have the music going and just finished polishing the pearlies.
But... I have some old Win apps from Dad that I want to check out. Do I run me some virtual Windoze, or set up WINE? What's your opinion?
Take Care-
LQ
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Still Friday - haven't been to bed yet.
Hi.
I turned seventeen this week. Yeah. Do I feel older? Well, not older, as such, but I do feel... seventeen. What I mean is, it is like I am being eased into adulthood - gently and slowly. Like, more is expected of me, but I don't yet have the keys to the car of my life.
This is one of those social things, not like anything too literal in my own family or anything. Like, we are out, and someone asks my age, and I say (or Dad says) 'seventeen' and there is this look that everyone gets. Like they are changing the Glasses-of-Scrutiny that they use to scrutinize me with. I am past the age of consent, (last year, actually,) but what can I do about it? Well, not me... I know where I am on that. I mean, if a highschooler gets pregnant, it is like.... "shuuuuuuunnnnnn." Right?
"Oh, well, as long as you use protection..."
Well, that's not the thing, right? Okay, girl gets knocked up. It happens. But what do people think? Not, "Oh, look... a baby," but way to often, "Hey, that little girl should have kept her legs together."
Meanwhile, on the other side of the standard, you get "grownups" having kids without being married first, but because they can (in theory) have jobs, support themselves, be responsible for themselves - because of that, it is okay. Their own business.
Hey they can drink and vote. Yippy.
What can 16/17 year olds do? We can work, but with limits. We can't rent a place of our own. We can't be legally responsible for ourselves. In short, we are legally aloud to have sex, but we are supposed to keep it a secret.
Now, I understand. The law there is to protect people, to define some boundaries, so adults can have sex with teenagers legally. That was harsh. I know it is more than that, but lets face it: People are not always capable of making good decisions and laws are there to help handle the repercussion of the not-so-good decisions.
Why this big rant?
I got this little short story thing going on Deviant Art. Normally, or at least, so far, I have been avoiding sex in my fiction. It does not interest me. There is one exception to that, but I explain it in the "author's comments." But now, with these, I am going to be dealing with teens, and their relationships, and I have to remind myself, that it is "normal" for teens to feel certain urges. Just like the Thomas Dolby song.
So, there are five bits of the story out there. Four of the five fall outside of what I just described because it starts out with the twins just starting school, but one of the five has jumped forward and hints at relationships and at exploration.
J+J Series, No. 001: First Day
J+J Series, No. 002: A Blind Date
J+J Series, No. 003: Early Years 01:Meet the Class
J+J Series, No. 004: Early Years 02: Delivered Late
J+J Series, No. 005: Early Years 03: Dinner Interrupted
Next up, we are returning to the teen years. The trip back has just been to define the characters. But I am having a hard time with the physical part of the relationships - I suppose because I don't really understand. But I am working on it. Fear not.
Happy Friday and take care! (well have a good weekend. Friday is over.)
I turned seventeen this week. Yeah. Do I feel older? Well, not older, as such, but I do feel... seventeen. What I mean is, it is like I am being eased into adulthood - gently and slowly. Like, more is expected of me, but I don't yet have the keys to the car of my life.
This is one of those social things, not like anything too literal in my own family or anything. Like, we are out, and someone asks my age, and I say (or Dad says) 'seventeen' and there is this look that everyone gets. Like they are changing the Glasses-of-Scrutiny that they use to scrutinize me with. I am past the age of consent, (last year, actually,) but what can I do about it? Well, not me... I know where I am on that. I mean, if a highschooler gets pregnant, it is like.... "shuuuuuuunnnnnn." Right?
"Oh, well, as long as you use protection..."
Well, that's not the thing, right? Okay, girl gets knocked up. It happens. But what do people think? Not, "Oh, look... a baby," but way to often, "Hey, that little girl should have kept her legs together."
Meanwhile, on the other side of the standard, you get "grownups" having kids without being married first, but because they can (in theory) have jobs, support themselves, be responsible for themselves - because of that, it is okay. Their own business.
Hey they can drink and vote. Yippy.
What can 16/17 year olds do? We can work, but with limits. We can't rent a place of our own. We can't be legally responsible for ourselves. In short, we are legally aloud to have sex, but we are supposed to keep it a secret.
Now, I understand. The law there is to protect people, to define some boundaries, so adults can have sex with teenagers legally. That was harsh. I know it is more than that, but lets face it: People are not always capable of making good decisions and laws are there to help handle the repercussion of the not-so-good decisions.
Why this big rant?
I got this little short story thing going on Deviant Art. Normally, or at least, so far, I have been avoiding sex in my fiction. It does not interest me. There is one exception to that, but I explain it in the "author's comments." But now, with these, I am going to be dealing with teens, and their relationships, and I have to remind myself, that it is "normal" for teens to feel certain urges. Just like the Thomas Dolby song.
So, there are five bits of the story out there. Four of the five fall outside of what I just described because it starts out with the twins just starting school, but one of the five has jumped forward and hints at relationships and at exploration.
J+J Series, No. 001: First Day
J+J Series, No. 002: A Blind Date
J+J Series, No. 003: Early Years 01:Meet the Class
J+J Series, No. 004: Early Years 02: Delivered Late
J+J Series, No. 005: Early Years 03: Dinner Interrupted
Next up, we are returning to the teen years. The trip back has just been to define the characters. But I am having a hard time with the physical part of the relationships - I suppose because I don't really understand. But I am working on it. Fear not.
Happy Friday and take care! (well have a good weekend. Friday is over.)
Monday, November 16, 2009
Cleaning A Room My Way
So, Claire was supposed to clean her room, and I wanted to hang out with her, so I was like, "Hey, I'll help." "Sure," she said.
When the first thing I did was strip her bedding, and disassembled her bed while she put her bedding in the wash, she got the idea that I take cleaning seriously. After we cleaned the area under her bed where her bed goes and cleaned all the bed parts, she decided that we may as well rearrange things.
You know, it only takes a moment to takes the draws out of a dresser to give it a good cleaning. We did the baseboards while everything was displaced. We did the corners of the walls. I got up on Claire's shoulders to reach up to the ceiling. We took everything our of the closet and cleaned it from top to bottom too. Her parents flipped out.
But, you know, you dig things up, when you clean this way. She had a shoebox with old notes from friends at school. I made the mistake of reading one.
You know how it is when you only hear one side of a conversation... like, only hearing the response to a comment, not the comment itself? But the reply is such that there is a lot that could be inferred about the nature of the initial comment. Well, in brief, as luck would have it, I picked up one of the worst notes I possibly could have picked up. This was kind soon after school started last year. It was from a guy she knows... apparently continuing some kind of debate about yours truly.
"No, /I/ don't think she's hot because she puts out. I think her "friends" do. Who knows what all's been up in that? I think she /could/ be hot if she didn't look like a 4th grader... and hadn't 'been there,' you know."
It hurt. I know they didn't know me (obviously, they didn't know me, because anyone who does, knows I don't/didn't/haven't), but it still hurt... a lot. I knew there were all sorts of nasty rumours running around about me, but... Now, these people are (kinda) my friends. They _do_ know me know and don't think that way about me ... any more. But it hurt. It was -- sobering(?) -- though, to see the pain that Claire felt for me seeing that. Mercy that was awkward. There was a lot of crying involved all round. I tried to lighten the mood by joking, "So, he thinks I'll be hot when I grow up."
She said that he got over the 4th grader-looking-like issue. I said I didn't wanna know more.
She hugged me. I hugged her back. That surprised us both. I don't complain any more when she hugs me, but... well... I have 'touching' issues, you know. Nothing like a little shared pain to bring people closer, eh?
We got back to work, but didn't really talk for a while. We both needed a little time, but it was nice to know she was there.
All things considered, it could have gone much, much worse.
Take Care -
LQ
When the first thing I did was strip her bedding, and disassembled her bed while she put her bedding in the wash, she got the idea that I take cleaning seriously. After we cleaned the area under her bed where her bed goes and cleaned all the bed parts, she decided that we may as well rearrange things.
You know, it only takes a moment to takes the draws out of a dresser to give it a good cleaning. We did the baseboards while everything was displaced. We did the corners of the walls. I got up on Claire's shoulders to reach up to the ceiling. We took everything our of the closet and cleaned it from top to bottom too. Her parents flipped out.
But, you know, you dig things up, when you clean this way. She had a shoebox with old notes from friends at school. I made the mistake of reading one.
You know how it is when you only hear one side of a conversation... like, only hearing the response to a comment, not the comment itself? But the reply is such that there is a lot that could be inferred about the nature of the initial comment. Well, in brief, as luck would have it, I picked up one of the worst notes I possibly could have picked up. This was kind soon after school started last year. It was from a guy she knows... apparently continuing some kind of debate about yours truly.
"No, /I/ don't think she's hot because she puts out. I think her "friends" do. Who knows what all's been up in that? I think she /could/ be hot if she didn't look like a 4th grader... and hadn't 'been there,' you know."
It hurt. I know they didn't know me (obviously, they didn't know me, because anyone who does, knows I don't/didn't/haven't), but it still hurt... a lot. I knew there were all sorts of nasty rumours running around about me, but... Now, these people are (kinda) my friends. They _do_ know me know and don't think that way about me ... any more. But it hurt. It was -- sobering(?) -- though, to see the pain that Claire felt for me seeing that. Mercy that was awkward. There was a lot of crying involved all round. I tried to lighten the mood by joking, "So, he thinks I'll be hot when I grow up."
She said that he got over the 4th grader-looking-like issue. I said I didn't wanna know more.
She hugged me. I hugged her back. That surprised us both. I don't complain any more when she hugs me, but... well... I have 'touching' issues, you know. Nothing like a little shared pain to bring people closer, eh?
We got back to work, but didn't really talk for a while. We both needed a little time, but it was nice to know she was there.
All things considered, it could have gone much, much worse.
Take Care -
LQ
Sunday, November 15, 2009
The Trust Game
My friend Claire introduced me to... the trust game... as she calls it.
She said she had this idea while we were in her room reading. The idea is this:
We are sitting on the floor, facing each other. She told me to close my eyes. Then, she puts her hands on the sides of my face.
Major personal space alarms going off.
Then she brushes her thumbs over my eye lids. Then she presses her thumbs a little more firmly onto my eyes.
Then she sat back and said that it was my turn and closed her eyes.
This was really weird. I asked what I was supposed to do. She said "whatever." So, I started to do the same thing with the eyes that she did to me. I, apparently, do not trust myself as much as I trust Claire.
It is ten 'til 5 in the morning. We were up 'til 2. I spent the night with Claire. I have been up for over an hour, mostly just watching her sleep, wondering which of us misunderstands me the most.
She said she had this idea while we were in her room reading. The idea is this:
We are sitting on the floor, facing each other. She told me to close my eyes. Then, she puts her hands on the sides of my face.
Major personal space alarms going off.
Then she brushes her thumbs over my eye lids. Then she presses her thumbs a little more firmly onto my eyes.
Then she sat back and said that it was my turn and closed her eyes.
This was really weird. I asked what I was supposed to do. She said "whatever." So, I started to do the same thing with the eyes that she did to me. I, apparently, do not trust myself as much as I trust Claire.
It is ten 'til 5 in the morning. We were up 'til 2. I spent the night with Claire. I have been up for over an hour, mostly just watching her sleep, wondering which of us misunderstands me the most.
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