The brink of Summer or Doom?

Thursday, April 17th 2008 at 10:51pm


I’m back around to this again. All this time and I’m still coming back around to friends. I don’t want to go through the effort of creating and maintaining friendships when I could just be with My boyfriend, but I can’t just be with My boyfriend all the time. He wants to have friendships and go through the effort of maintaining them. It’s worth it to him.

According to what he’s explained to me (partially in the past, but more throughly today) is that when he was with Brianna she didn’t have or want friends in the beginning. And then she changed, and she started going out with her friends and leaving him behind. He says he felt the way I feel, and that’s why he hasn’t been going out as much... But he still wants to go out.

I just don’t comprehend why. I can’t understand it. He says it’s just because I’ve never felt it. He says he felt this way too, but he changed, and says I’ll change too. I don’t want to change. I want to just be with him, and leave it at that.


I just want the world to swallow me up. Swallow me into the ground, and then devour me instantly and painlessly. Then this ticking would stop. I can’t honestly say I want to die, that’s not the truth. I’m just so tired of exploring myself. I’m so tired of wanting anything. So needy for affection, do desperate for creation, so down on the world, so up when he is up.

“There used to be such happy banter between them, Josh and Isadora,” says Erica Jong in parachutes and kisses. And there is happy banter, there is, there is, there is. And that’s just about to describe it: happy banter. Joking, and laughing, prodding and poking, giggling and snorting, talking and kissing, fucking and making love. All of it is so wonderful that it leaves everything else to be dust. Everything else just melts away in “maintenance.”


Why does it hurt so much to watch him leave? What’s underneath everything that makes it so painful? I don’t want him to get frustrated with me.

“I can’t leave you when you cry like that,” he says.

“Not now, but eventually you’ll just call me a big baby and storm out on me anyway,” I say, on the verge of tears for at least the fifth time.

“Nah, not even. It was hard today, but I can’t leave you when you look like that. I really wanted to go out, but after that one time I left when you were crying, I can’t do it again.”

This cheers me, but I’m still afraid. I’m afraid I’m going to make him snap someday. I’m afraid I’m asking too much, and that I can’t give enough.



Friday, April 18th 2008 at 1:37pm


Nathan,

I happen to believe that Elijah is gay not because anyone says so, but because I’ve seen footage, her dialogs, and listened to my mom’s testimony, and read blogs which all point out and show a large number of facts about Elijah. Personally, I don’t care if he is or isn’t gay. But I do believe that he is, and that he doesn’t want anyone to know because it could (and probably would) ruin his career. Furthering the argument doesn’t really have much purpose.

Tater,

My father has helped some with the bathroom, though not a lot, but he does work during the day and morning when my mom has the most energy to work on it herself. When my father gets off of work she picks him up, cooks him dinner, and sometimes they watch TV together. From what I can tell, that pretty much sums up their relationship.

As for being controlling... I can see more and more clearly how controlling I really am, and more and more clearly I can also see why. My own psyche is probably my favorite thing to study, and I usually do this in the form of talking, writing and mentally asking myself a lot of questions and then trying to answer them as fully and completely as possible.

My sex drive (incidentally) is rising at the time being. Not at all sure why. My diet and my emotional state seem to be related, but not very directly it seems. My moods are certainly directly related to what I eat and the events in my day, but if the sex drive is just as directly related then it’s in such a way that I can’t comprehend it. It used to be I couldn’t stand morning sex, now three days in a row I’ve had morning sex with My boyfriend and found it to be the most pleasing sex in months.

I have realized however (just as you have) that I don’t want any sex while resenting my partner, just as you said. And I like that you used that word, because usually I’d say “upset” and that wouldn’t be completely true, because sometimes I’m upset with him but still want him. It’s specifically the resentment that makes me not feel in the mood for sex.


Hallie,

Nurture versus Nature is probably the oldest argument of psychology. Since I believe in souls, I think that we’re born with some of our soul’s natural instincts and understanding. For example, some children listen to their parents and are very obedient from birth, and some take much more harsh discipline – even siblings with the same parents often have a drastic difference. People can of course argue that this was a difference in how those two children were raised, but often twins come out with very different personalities, even conjoined ones.

That said, I think that our environment can completely change us from our initial inclinations. If our initial inclinations prove to work against us at a young age, I believe they can be completely wiped from our personality.


Friday, April 18th 2008 at 2:00pm


I can’t believe I haven’t written about this dream yet, since I had it probably a week and a half ago. Perhaps because the dream disturbed me so much? Well, here is all that I can remember at this point.


I was carrying groceries in with my Mom, and My boyfriend was leaving for work. The door was open for long periods of time as my mom and I were in the kitchen, and this bothered me. What if the cat got out? What if something got in? I’m not sure if I went upstairs to check if someone was there, but I went upstairs and into my parent’s bedroom and Tre was there. Oddly, in the dream, this didn’t startle me.

I laid down next to him and we talked. I didn’t tell him, but in my mind I was guilty that I had let him in by leaving the doors open. I felt more and more sick and upset and desperate as I talked to him. This anxiousness was overcoming me. (I don’t remember a word that was spoken.) I told him that he should go and I stood up, and I hugged him, and then my father beckoned me. He told me that I needed to bring Tre downstairs because it had to be done.

He didn’t specify what needed to be done, but it’s as though I felt that they were going to do something awful. I felt trapped though. I couldn’t sneak Tre out, because that would make it look like I purposely let him in, that would make it look like I wanted him there. I couldn’t let that happen, so I led him by the hand down the back stairs. When we entered the dining room my heart began to sink. I remember my father said something about paying people, and how it would be a waste if I didn’t cooperate.

So I walked into the living room tentatively where there was a number of people gathered. There was some sort of filming equipment. I caught a glimpse of someone hidden partway behind a large chair. Something was in their hand, something deadly. I grimaced, not knowing what to do. Tre seemed to take this for some sort of party and tried to get people dancing. Dad seemed to go along with this idea so I began dancing too. And then someone says that they need to do Tre’s hair and makeup for the movie, or whatever they were doing.

Tre kneels on the ground for this, for some odd reason. The moment he’s down someone leaps out with a huge syringe filled with black fluid and stabs him at the base of his neck and then quickly pushes the black fluid in. Tre looks shocked for a moment, and then slumps forward.

In total shock I scream, not really expecting him to just die in front of me. Who can ever expect someone to just die right before their eyes? Shocked that my father would hire people to kill someone, shocked at seeing murder, shocked at the harsh reality of how flesh and blood is just a shell we hide in for a time I dash into the dining room screaming, collapse to the floor, and begin kicking wildly. I smash through the legs of the table with my feet, and my arms shatter boxes full of things (totally unlike real life where such antics would only leave me bruised and a few things displaced) and the world seems to whirl around me.


Of course I wake up at this point, sweating and freaked out. I feel like the dream means something deep. What it means is completely up for debate. Usually the feeling of a dream is more relevant than anything. If I break it down into feelings I felt guilty, then anxious, then scared and then horrified and disgusted.

The other thing to analyze is the main characters, myself, Tre, and my father. I think my father holds a large significance in this dream. Perhaps he’s representing some sort of fucking up heartless justice, and Tre is representing a past I’m afraid to remember wholly, afraid to admit is mine wholly.


Friday, April 18th 2008 at 2:27pm


Angel writes:

“I’m sorry to hear about you and My boyfriend’s relationship. I have to point out something; you once told me that you have to find a partner who is not different from you. From my viewpoint, I’d say that My boyfriend and you are very different but I’m sure you know that already right? For example, he’s more socialized and you’re not so socialized. He likes to party, smoke and drink (though I don’t know how anyone could take such pleasure in something so horrible) whereas you are not into it at all.”

>

I reply:

That’s the funny part. That we are so much alike, but from that perspective is sure doesn’t look like it. And what’s even more ironic is that if we both go out together I do 80% of the talking between us. I behave more social than he does, but he enjoys being around people more than I do. He tells me now that he doesn’t want to drink anymore, but that he misses the sensation sometimes. And I did used to want to party, smoke and drink, I just quit all of that. What’s funny is that he used to never have an interest in doing that stuff, but after his last relationship went bad he got into it.

The reason My boyfriend and I get along as well as we do, and are as happy as we are (when we’re happy, which is probably 85% of the time) is because of how many things we both enjoy doing. Reading, digital painting, drawing, web design, video games, goofing around with each other, anime, cuddling and sex and grooming each other. We both are very passionate about sex in a way that a lot of people are not. We’re more affectionate than other couples. We cook together, and then we watch shows we both enjoy together, whereas many couples can’t agree on what they like to watch. We disagree about what video games to play, but we agree on playing them in general. We both love all forms of art, except for writing. I love writing, and it doesn’t interest him very much.

The only thing we disagree on besides going out, drinking and smoking and socializing is music. I can’t stand gangster rap, and he loves it. But we can agree on metal music and anime music. So we’re really not that different, but our small differences are enough to cause a lot of arguments.

However, personality-wise there are some things that need to be different. For example, two quiet people in a relationship can make a relationship spoil because of lack of communication. Two loud people in a relationship can cause arguments because of cutting each other off, always waiting to speak, not listening because of having too much to say, and so on. In that way, My boyfriend and I compliment each other. He’s quiet if I’m quiet, but I’m usually talkative, and I can get him talking. If I was quiet too, it wouldn’t work as well, and if he talked as much as I do, that also wouldn’t work as well.


Angel writes:

“You also once told me that the next relationship I jump into, I should inform the guy that I do not want to be with someone who wastes his life on alcohol and drugs, it makes me wonder why you didn’t tell My boyfriend that in the very beginning of the relationship. Unless you did tell him and he couldn’t manage to stick to his compromise (if there was one) In that case couldn’t you predict from that moment, that there’d be problems? (I feel like I’m making no sense here…… but I hope you understand me.)”


I reply:

Actually I didn’t think drinking and smoking weed were a big deal when I met him. I didn’t quit until about four months in our relationship actually. However, I did make it clear that I wouldn’t date him unless he quit smoking cigarettes, which he promptly quit and has not turned back to since.

When I went on my road trip with my father (and left My boyfriend for an entire month) there was one night where I got very drunk and fucked another guy (mostly just because My boyfriend said I could, I was testing the boundaries) and it was bad. The sex was bad, the night was bad, how I felt was bad, waking up with bad, and on top of it I vomited over and over and over again. I have not drank even one little sip since that night. And over the next month to come I gave up smoking, trying it again on and off for a while before I just quit entirely.

However My boyfriend’s drinking is a more serious problem because he becomes so dramatically different when he’s drunk. He’s not an violent drunk, but he’s an angry drunk. The more he drinks the more irritated he acts, even though he feels good, so he says. However he hasn’t gotten drunk in months now, and he hasn’t drank anything at all for about a week and a half, which goes to show much he’s cutting back. And a week and a half ago he had one beer, which really isn’t much compared to the six beers I watched him drink towards the beginning of our relationship.

But you’re right, I couldn’t predict how many problems the drinking and partying would cause. When I met him I believed that I was the party person, and he was the quiet indoor person. Funny how that reversed so quickly.


Angel writes:

“You know when I was younger, I always told myself not to give out advice until I learn to follow my own but as I grew I always wondered that just because I’m not capable of following my own advice doesn’t mean that I can’t help someone else. Who knows they could be a lot stronger and wiser than me, which means they would do a lot better at taking my advice and doing what I couldn’t do. Then they would be my inspiration. Are you following this?”


I reply:

I completely agree. It’s great to follow your own advice, but not always possible. And when other people do it when you can’t, it can be inspiration. Honestly, I’d advise all young girls to go out with a lot of guys while they are young, but not to have sex with them until being in the relationship for at least one month. One month gives enough time to prove the man actually likes you, and doesn’t just want you. It gives enough time for you to stop looking at his body and start seeing the guy for who he is. Going out with a lot of different guys while you’re young helps you develop your preferences before you get old enough to make a serious commitment. I think a bigger mistake than sleeping with too many men is marrying your first love only for it to all fall apart because you didn’t know what you wanted yet.


Angel writes:

“Anyway, when I fall for a dude, I fall hard. And I fall harder each time. I don’t know why; I hate it but that’s a cycle I never seem to break but so far I’m getting a better grip on it. What I mean is, you’re confused about what you really want from a man but I know what I’m looking for. It’s true, over the years my mind could change and I’ll end up running to someone who isn’t my type. I’m so aware of that.”


I reply:

I think more times we fall in love the more we realize how much we don’t know what we want. Especially when you find exactly what you thought you wanted. I thought I wanted a man I could have an open relationship with until My boyfriend and I tried it. Turns out we’re just as jealous as everyone else, but I didn’t know that until we actually tried it. I also always wanted an artist, and I do love it now, but at first it was hard for me to swallow that I wasn’t the artist in the relationship, that I wasn’t the talented one. It was a lot to chew at first, but now I love learning from him.


Angel writes:

All I know is I’m not going to get married. Ever. I made that decision based on a majority of the marriages that I’ve seen. The husbands usually beat the wives, cheat or suffer from some sort of alcohol/drug addiction; in general the husbands usually turn out to be bad guys. My father is a mean man; I grew up witnessing a father who I never f#cking asked for, you know? He’s the main reason why I choose not to get married. I think my greatest fear would be … me getting involved with a man like my dad. Someone who beats their wife (he doesn’t do it anymore), someone who fights with his children, someone who drinks obsessively, and damn the list goes on. I don’t want to make the same mistake that my mother made. She knows that he’s bad but she doesn’t want to let go because she fears solitude. She doesn’t know how to raise us on her own. She doesn’t have a job so she depends on my father on everything. When I grow up, I want to be nothing like her. In my past relationships I relied on my partner for my happiness. Once I realized that was a major problem, I tried to quit it. Each time I got a bit better but now I think it’ll be something I’ll always struggle with.”


I reply:

Relying on a relationship for happiness is still something I’m struggling with. In fact, I cry when My boyfriend leaves sometimes. I mope while he’s at work at other times. I wait at the top of the stairs for him to come home some nights. I call him obsessively at work.

In terms of marriage, don’t cast it away so hastily. Just because so many marriages go bad doesn’t mean yours has to go the same way. Some people marry two and three and four times, but eventually still find happiness. I know someone on their third marriage who is now very happy with their relationship. My mother might not be the happiest, but my father doesn’t beat her or anything else awful. If anything, he’s hard-headed and neglectful and a little distant. And this is my mother’s second marriage.

If getting married to the wrong man is a huge concern to you (as it should be, and is for most people I imagine) then I’d advise to not marry anyone you have not already been with and lived with for at least a year, probably two or three years. Once you’ve lived with someone for enough time you already know what their habits are, and how they affect you, and how you affect them, and then you can properly assess whether getting married is a commitment you want with that person. Chances are that you will fall for someone so hard that you’ll change your mind.

I don’t want to make my mother’s mistakes either. I want a more loving and romantic husband than my father is for my mom. I want a more considerate man than he is. And it seems to me that My boyfriend is. I want to marry him in April next year, one year from now... That’s the plan. I must admit that I’m not 100% sure that it’s the best idea to be married so soon, or that My boyfriend really is the best person to do it with, but I also don’t want to wait longer than I should, I don’t want to be too scared to do what I should, I don’t want to not do it just because of the risk of heartbreak. And I honestly feel like we’re good for each other, even when we argue.


Angel writes:

“Yeah that realization hit me while I was sitting in my aunt’s room thinking about life. If I were to beat the sh#t out of them, that would mean that I only cared about everything so I decided it wasn’t a good idea. I learned that those girls are all talk and no walk though so whatever. ROFL, I’ll most definitely use that line the next time someone calls me out because of my journal. Yeah I know what you mean about the whole karma thing. I don’t include anything personal in my journal anymore and when/if I do, I keep it private.”


I reply: I most certainly can’t seem to stop writing personal things in my blog, but I do try to careful.


Friday, April 18th 2008 at 7:48pm


Is this an imbalance in my brain caused by lack of b-vitamins? Why do I feel like it has to be more complicated than that. I feel so restless. I feel this burning ache to create something. But it can’t be just anything. I want to create something fun to create, something worth creating, and something that will be appreciated by people besides myself. I have this nagging feeling that I’m supposed to get a job or go to college, but that would being so much change to my life that I really don’t want. So much drama that would be for not.

My legs bounce as I sit in one place, my brain is bored as I attempt to dance, to exercise. Perhaps I have that womanly want of “excitement” or something. A little romance and excitement could sure go a long way... At least the romance part, we can skip the excitement and replace it with surprise. I love being surprised, so why does no one ever surprise me? How come Tina never drops by to catch up? How come Mom never suggests playing a game with me? How come my father never suggests doing anything, and worse yet usually rejects all offers to do anything? That seems more crushing than anything. Do I still have that missing-daddy syndrom or what? Perhaps my hormones tried to replace him too young, and he felt the push and he let me push him away instead of reeling me back in (boyfriend or sans-boyfriend).

I have this nagging habit (which I recently confessed to My boyfriend) of thinking to myself “I wish I would just die” which is such a bad habit. What a negative thing to think to myself! What could I possibly think to myself less productive than that? Is that an exemplar of my poor mental health, or my poor source of vitamins or of the actual condition of my life? But what on earth is missing from my life? I have time to myself, time with my lover, time with my Mom, time spent creating, time spent gaming, time spent learning, time spent working (though on household things.)

My mom says my life is lacking in challenge and that this is why I seek video games for life sustenance. It makes sense. But this is what I opted for, a life free of drama. I hated my life back when I was working, in school, was around people and their lives full of drama, and of course the most difficult aspect was having someone as demanding, immature and lazy as Tre as a lover.

Speaking of Tre, he left me a comment on here asking if I wanted to meet up with him in person to say hi. Strange, the thought is mostly amusing more than anything. After a year and four months of dating My boyfriend (a year and five months since Tre and I broke up, a year and three months since I saw Tre last) I’ve cast away all remaining emotions towards Tre (except those mingled in my dreams which make no sense to me at all) and I feel like seeing him can’t possible hurt me or my relationship. All except for the detail of what My boyfriend thinks.

If indeed Tre actually follows through with coming to Buffalo and seeing me (which I have little confidence in looking back on his track record of following through on anything) I plan on seeing him at a park, probably Delaware park. I’m not so paranoid as to think he would actually try and kidnap me or something as insane as that, but I am paranoid enough to believe that bringing him into this house would be a bad idea. My parents and aunt would have a fit, My boyfriend would have a tantrum, and I would be even more uncomfortable than all of them combined in all honesty. I don’t want him to see what was “our” room that is now My boyfriend’s room. I don’t want his energy to mingle with the energy of my home. That is something sacred and something peaceful that he would most certainly rupture... Or maybe I’m paranoid on that one, but my own emotions about it are certainly the most relevant ones.

Of course then there is the major reason I wouldn’t want him there. I don’t want him to sit on the bed (even in the form of a couch) I sleep on, or to gaze at drawer with my vibrator’s cord hanging out of it, or to see the things My boyfriend has bought me. For some reason that would all be way to personal for an ex-boyfriend, and I know My boyfriend would agree.

Being in a park seems like a safe neutral location. There would be background noises that have nothing to do with me or my family or him or his life. There would be things to look at that have nothing to do with either of us. There would no temptations (mostly I’m worried about his temptations because I fully trust my temperament to not be fuddled by looking at him anymore) and there would be nothing to do but talk, which means that once we grew tired of talking there would be nothing to do but to both go our separate ways, which all in all, is ideal. As indifferent as I feel about seeing him, I do feel curiosity. What has changed in his life? Has he married Danya? Is he happy now or does he wish he never royally screwed up his relationship with me? And actually, what I’m most interested in is what he’ll notice about me. Do I look different? Do I speak different? Do I act more mature? Do I seem like the same girl that broke up with him? That would be very interesting to know just because for him I am only what he remembers from over a year ago, which means everything that has changed about me in the last year will stick out and be obvious to him. I’d like to hear how much I’ve changed. Validation always feels good, even when it comes from strange places. Will I beam from being filled with My boyfriend’s love? Will he feel My boyfriend’s energy mixed with mine? I hope he can, just because I want to be “My boyfriend & Atara” to the world, and he is one person out there who will always remember me as “Bante & Derly” – this makes me chuckle at the memory.

I look back on the person I was just a short year ago and I openly laugh. She was so confused, so misunderstood (aren’t we all, and aren’t I still?), so lost, so on the verge of transformation... Back into myself. Those two years with Tre will always stick out because of all of their oddities. I was high all the time, I spoke differently, ate differently, and listened to different music. (Then again my music taste has changed nearly ninety percent in just the past few months.) I had different sexual ideals, and different life goals. My entire perspective has shifted. I don’t view men and women the same way.

So I left a message on Tre’s phone saying I’d like to go for a walk in a park with him if that was along the lines he had in mind, and mentioned that he could not come here. I then called My boyfriend and told him about it (not wishing to hide this for even the length of an hour, because I need to make sure he trusts me and has no reason to doubt me) and he says he doesn’t trust me with Tre. This hurts, but then again, what did I expect? Did Tre ever trust me with Jeremy? No. So what could I expect? Perhaps that is just another reason why I want to marry My boyfriend next year in April and no later. I want to prove to him that he really is the center of my world. I want to express that commitment to him, to myself and to everyone. I feel it, but that doesn’t mean anyone else can see it. Marriage makes commitment visible, and over time, it makes lack of commitment a sore thumb in your life.

I really don’t see the harm in spending a few hours with Tre after it’s been over a year. It may be a small blow to My boyfriend’s ego, but only for a short time before he recovers and realizes that after all, it was only a conversation, and that I’m soon to be his wife. I wouldn’t stop him from seeing Brianna after all, not that he would ever want to see her. But I don’t hate Tre, at least, not anymore. Then again, it’s not like after all this My boyfriend hates Brianna. I’d be afraid for his mental health if he held a grudge on her for that many years.

Ah, writing feels good, but I still feel restless. Somehow I suspect the heat is getting to me. I’m sweating almost everywhere. Time to go wet my hair and chest in the sink again.

My boyfriend should be home soon. There has been a plumbing problem at work, and he got off early on Wednesday, and he stayed home all day on Thursday, and today they called him in to “help out” and he left here at one o’clock. He called me to let me know he’s on his way home now. I resent the fact that he’s been hanging out with El and everyone all day smoking blunts undoubtedly and has ignored all of my calls. I know he did that on purpose to get a day away from me. I feel angry about it, but I also understand that he feels he needs friends in his life, so I won’t make a fuss about it.


Saturday, April 19th 2008 at 11:50am


I feel like I’ve been kicked in the teeth by a wash of sudden icy realizations, amid a blast of humid heat allowing me to sit here in my underwear and bare feet.

Last night My boyfriend proclaimed that he didn’t believe that I really wanted to have sex with him, that I was just doing it to placate him. In terms of seeing Tre he reiterated that he didn’t trust me. And this morning he asserted that now that it’s summer time, there is no way he’s going out less than once a week. I think an icy kick in the teeth is an understatement for how I feel about that odd assortment of statements.

Of course we argued, of course I cried myself to sleep, of course he woke up and had sex with me, of course I didn’t feel better, of course he tried to comfort me (belatedly) of course I expressed my concerns that this is the turning points in my two past relationships where things went bad until they eventually ended all together. Of course he thought that meant I was breaking up with him. This is all a rumble-tumble game. Who can adapt? And who can adapt to what?

Who is stronger? Him to not go out? Me to cope with him going out? Who is going to make the bigger sacrifice? Will he quit drinking? Will I give up and let him drink, smoke and party? Will we compromise and get married and putt his in the past? Or will we fight it out to the bitter end?

These were not questions I asked myself a short couple weeks ago. Getting married was a sure thing, and so was him quitting his friends and his drinking. He has asserted to me that he will not give up “chillin’ with the boys” for me. He has asserted that I’m immature for not having friends, and that in the future I will have friends, and that he will not be the person left at home.

That’s just lovely. I want to duplicate myself so I can hit myself over the head with a shovel! I feel like such a blasted idiot. Either deal with him going out, go out with him, or go out and make my own friends, or try one last time to force him to stay home with me. I hate all options. I’ve hated all of those options from the moment they arose. I hate summer. I hate the heat. I hate myself for not seeing this coming. I hate myself for loving so goddamned much. Why couldn’t I just love myself for myself with the validation of some blasted male? Why couldn’t I stay single and hug myself to sleep?

Erica Jong has written three books about Isadora Wing, and how she wanted love and validation just as much at forty as she did at twenty-nine. So I guess since I’m still only nineteen there is no way in hell I can escape this burning need for love and companionship. Of course Isadora also has friends. What the fuck are friends good for anyway? Chewing up all your time? Making you feel guilty? Telling you how to live your life? Getting fucked up on drugs with you? Carrying you home when you’re drunk? Giving you bad advice? Calling you and using up all your minutes? Walking in and our of your life like it was a bathroom for them to shit in and leave without even spraying air freshener?

That’s what friends are in my experience and I have no interest what-so-ever in going and making my own friends. But who can live on socializing one day out of the week? He socializes all day at work, and with me on Sundays, and when I proposed once a month he socialize with his friends he agreed, but he never stuck to it, not even for one month. At least, if he did, it was such a quick and blissful month that I missed it in a blink of my life. And now, after already going out one a week, (sometimes skipping a week) all winter, now he asserts that he will go out once a week all summer like I bloody believe that. He’ll be gone on Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays too if it’s anything like last summer. Last summer I didn’t believe we were going to make it to January. Now I’m having trouble believing we’ll make it to his birthday (in July) after last night.

All this time, and I have not told him a single lie and he still doesn’t “believe” me. All this time of trusting him despite everything and he has the nerve not to trust me.


Saturday, April 19th 2008 at 2:00pm


Tina’s baby shower is tomorrow. Her baby is due in a month. Since I agreed to be her baby sitter I guess that means I’ll have something to do with myself that feels meaningful. I just haven’t seen Tina in a while so I kinda forgot that she was pregnant even though all this time I’ve been keeping in mind that on 4/20 she was having her baby shower. What a funny date to pick for a baby shower, huh?

It’s only supposed to be for a few hours, and My boyfriend has previously told me that he would stay here and just listen to his music, but considering the heat, somehow I doubt that he’ll feel like doing that. I’ve progressed from sitting here with wet hair being enough to putting foil (shiny side towards the glass) on the windows, making damn sure the attic door is closed, putting both the window fans on exhaust, wetting my hair, stripping down into my underwear and putting a fan directly on me in order to be comfortable and it’s only April. I can’t bare the thought of June where I’ll do all of that in addition to laying nude on the bed with the air conditioner on high right beside me.

I hate summer.

This morning I thought I felt cramps coming on so I took two calcium-magnesium-zinc complex pills, which usually help considerably especially if taken before the cramps really start. I don’t want to even think about cramps in this heat. What’s worse is thinking about My boyfriend going out while I have cramps in this heat. That would just be so miserable...

I looked up some things, regarding how often My boyfriend really goes out. If I average the last 35 weeks together (since I’ve been tracking every hour of his life so that I can prove my points in arguments instead of being told that I don’t know what I’m talking about) which goes all the way back to August of 2007, then I get 2.6 times a week that he’s gone out. If I then average the hours out over the weeks I get 9.5 hours a week. Now this really isn’t a lot, but he works sixty hours, and on top of his working hours he leaves an hour before he has to be at work and he gets home half an hour to an hour after he gets out. Which means he’s gone seventy-two hours a week just on account of work. From midnight to one o’clock in the morning we spent an hour together, from eleven in the morning to noon we sometimes spend an hour together, but other than that, there is Sunday. I’ve been complaining about this since the beginning, but what else can I really do but complain? It makes me miserable and I’m helpless to stop it.

But that considered, I’d rather he went out on a regular scheduled basis than on a whim, with no call, with me left here to just wonder. The drinking has improved but is not completely to be rid of on top of it. Last night he drank one tilt. Okay, not very serious, but also not very serious about quitting. Perhaps he just wanted to see if I’d notice, and I did! I smelled the difference in his sweat, I saw the way his eyes shifted as we had sex, I felt how much more tired he was, I saw the variance in his expressions, the taste of saliva, the slightly different movements of his lips, the slightly different twitches of his eyes, the way he looked more agitated than usual, and slightly guilty, and the fact that he protested having sex on the account of the likelihood of falling asleep afterwards, as if he ever cared about that before. I’m not stupid, I can read the person I love the most in this world. I can see the difference than even one tilt makes. The part that really pisses me off is that he was trying to hide it from me.

“But you would be mad” he protests. Yeah, and what did I do the moment Tre asks to see me? I call him, despite the fact that he’d be mad. In fact, I called him because he might be mad. The nerve!

The lack of trust he has in me is killing me. His lack of faith in me is burning me. The way he doesn’t believe my words are knifes in my heart. The way he gets restless and bored and wants to go out, and eventually does go out leave me high and dry and swirling in insecurities. The names he calls me leave me feeling worthless. I can’t believe I’m sinking into this same pit again. It’s about that time, one year and five months. This summer will makes us or break us once and for all.

My Body Hates Me

Wednesday, March 5th 2008 at 2:55pm

This new online game is like the coolest game ever. At least, it’s the best game since Civilization IV anyway. It’s the first step towards the computer game I want to see.

Wednesday, March 12th 2008 at 5:25pm

I just got up.

My mind likes me. It really does. It’s logical for me, it comes to conclusions for me, it lets me will myself to eat right, exercise, have fun playing games, to allow myself to feel bliss when I’m with My boyfriend...

My body fucking hates me. Last week... Was it Tuesday? I started getting a yeast infection. Another goddamned yeast infection. I don’t eat sugar, I barely eat bread, I don’t wear a lot of tight jeans, and I actually wear a lot less black underwear than I used to.

But I know that isn’t all the factors in getting a yeast infection. There is also cleanliness which has been difficult since the bathroom has been under construction for over a month. Let me tell you, it ruins your dignity to stand in a turkey pan in front of the kitchen sink (and window) and washed yourself with water that you boiled on the stove, poured into the sink, and then let fall down into the turkey pan. The pan of course, needs to be frequently emptied however, not because it’s full, but because the water turns cold freezing my feet.

Now out of a month, how many times do you think I really went through all that hassle? I’ve never been one of those have-to-be-perfectly-clean-or-I-will-die people anyway, but this is just ridiculous. I do use wipes to ensure that there isn’t a build-up of nastiness down there or something, but I really don’t think it was the lack of cleanliness that caused the infection either.

There are two variables pertaining to the vaginal area that I noticed happened to be the same with this infection and the last. (And perhaps the one before that though my memory is foggy.) I shaved right before getting the infection, and two, I started using the wipes my mom uses. (I think they might be Scott wipes. They’re cheap and small and don’t smell to pretty and aren’t very soft.)

Whenever I shave it causes irritation during sex, so I don’t why I did it again when I had already connected those two dots. It was just a habit, and standing in the turkey pan I wanted some sort of normalcy! Well, for me, I think yeast infections are as normal as eating, sleeping and pissing. It’s some royal bull shit.

Talk about cock envy! I dream about having a cock. No more squatting. No more being helpless to give myself an orgasm. No more yeast infections. No more period. No more cramps. No more worrying about childbirth or pregnancy. My only worry would be it’s goddamned size, and if it’s small than I’ll just get an Asian girl. I have genuine, literal cock-envy and I admit it. I worship cock and how uncomplicated it is.

I’ve never met an impotent man. My boyfriend is always ready, while my pussy protests, becomes dry, becomes infected, becomes sore, becomes anything but freaking useful! Sometimes I wish the thing would just fall off!

I’ve never been free of bodily issues. When I was a toddler I was too tired to go tricker-treating. I always managed to get enough bug bites to look like I had chicken-pocks, and then my dumb naive mind decided to scratch them all until they bled, and them some more. I had chicken-pocks twice. I had mono four times between age 9 and age 14. I got my teeth punched in at age 11 and ate through a straw for over a week, and then nothing but soft foods for a month.

And my first yeast infection when I was 10 or so. My period started in school, and was so heavy, and always leaking all over the place. I had cramps that made me double over, sometimes cry, sometimes not leave the bathtub (very similarly to the yeast infections that made me refuse to pee for eight hours at a time.) Then there is my six-year-old bladder which causes me to pee every half and hour like a pregnant woman. (Tina is seven months pregnant and we pee just as often!)

I was constantly constipated as a child as well. Sitting on toilet at six years old for twenty or thirty minutes at a time, sweating. And to think this is only the beginning of the list... What about the year I spent burping constantly and frequently having painful burps that caught in my chest?

Most of those things went away after I gave up sugar (all sugar alternatives and forms including molasses and brown sugar), white bread, pasta, meat that isn’t free-range/organic, coffee and caffeine in general, smoking weed, and drinking. It made the painful burps and stomach aches go away. It gave me more energy, and I wasn’t tired all the time for the first time in my life.

But now... Now I have a whole other something inexplicable! One week of a yeast infection (mostly itchy, mildly burning, unlike my childhood yeast infections which barely ever itched at all but burned like hell when I peed) and then, the day it starts to get better, on Monday, I start getting this odd pain in my knees.

I guess to myself that this pain is directly related to the odd positions I’ve been sitting in. I’ve been sitting with my feet under my ass, and a cold bottle between my legs in front of my computer in order to relieve the itching of the infection, causing a good deal of knee strain for hours upon hours. So I stopped sitting in the various knee-straining positions, but as the night wore on my shoulders began to hurt, and then my right wrist, right ankle, my hips, then my left thumb.

I thought perhaps I was just getting very tired and needed to sleep. I limped to bed with My boyfriend, and he took care of me, brought me things I needed. In bed, with him to wait on me, I almost felt fine. The itching had mostly stopped, and the stiff joints were not so noticeable while laying in one spot.

(Did I write about New Years Eve when I decided to eat some of my mother’s blue-berry pandowdy? It only had a cup of white sugar in the whole pan. Only some white bread. I only had a very small bowl full. Oh god what an idiot! Within minutes my hands began to sweat, my stomach began to turn, and it began to hurt so much that I stopped playing the board game, left for the bathroom and didn’t return for a very, very long time. I put a finger down my throat for the first and only time in my life, over and over and over again until the pain was gone. You have no idea how done with sugar and white flour I am. They are toxic. Maybe more so for my body than yours, but trust me when I say that it will catch up with you.)

So Monday night I get to sleep... And Tuesday morning I wake up, still in achy pain, but not so bad. I limp a little, but I can get around. Surely I’m fine. But as the day continues it gets worse, and worse, and worse. At one point, I stand up from my computer to pee (as I do so very often) and I step forward, and then this blinding pain goes through my left knee, and I try to step forward but there is no response from my left leg. (For fucking Christ’s sake, I’m fucking nineteen! This isn’t supposed to be happening to me!) I make something like a hop, or a shuffle forward with my right leg, trying to catch my balance on the desk, on My boyfriend, on anything, but my hands are weak, my shoulders are sore, and the next thing I know I’m falling... Falling is so scary. Thank goodness I wasn’t more than foot away from my chair and simply fell backwards right into it. Some other places in my room would have been awful places to fall.

Now I’m crawling. I can’t really stand anymore. My left leg won’t take any weight at all. My boyfriend took off Monday and Tuesday (mostly for me, but partly from how tired he was from taking care of me through the night) and he carried me to the from the bathroom a number of times, other times I just leaned on him. He sat me up in bed, and laid me back down again. How embarrassing. But oh how grateful I am.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. So far I’ve taken five pills of a calcium, magnesium, and zinc complex, but that’s about all I can think of to help. I don’t even know if rest or exercise is better for whatever is wrong with me. The war between my body and me is officially on, and somehow I don’t feel like I’m going to win.

PS: I really have dreamed that I had a cock before, multiple times in fact. Undoubtedly I was a man in my most recent lifetime.

PSS: Shit, I have to pee again, this isn’t going to be fun...

Life (Like It Or Not) Is Full Of People

Friday, February 29th 2008 at 8:19pm

It feels so good not to be working on the Social Club stuff today. To not be having a Social Club “rave” tonight.

Sunday, March 2nd 2008 at 12:35am

Today was pretty good. I slept in a bit. I danced while cleaning for a bit when I woke up. I worked on my Direct Democracy of the Phoenix design for most of the day. I cleaned my bathroom. I returned my “work phone” and blue-tooth that was provided for Social Club purposes. I called My boyfriend several times and didn’t get an answer, which is expected on Saturdays, since that the busiest day for the tattoo shop. I made several phone calls. Then after all that stuff I went to game night with mom.

Tina and Megan didn’t come. I invited them both, and Sara too (Megan’s younger sister) but none of them were able to make it. It was nice anyway. Mom, Asa, some guy I can’t remember the name of and I played a game that was the forerunner to my favorite game (at the moment) Race for the Galaxy. I think it was called San Juan.

The concept of San Juan is that you are directing the island of San Juan. You can build plantations and other buildings. Plantations make resources, but only with “colonists” which are little brown circles, or as I prefer to call them, slaves because after all, that’s what they are. The plantations (except corn) also need a factory to create resources. There can’t be coffee beans without a coffee roaster for example, and slaves to work the coffee roaster as well as the plantation.

Now in Race for the Galaxy there are four types of resources instead of five. And instead of being coffee, tobacco, corn, sugar and blue (can’t remember what blue was) Race for the Galaxy has Novelty goods, Genes, Rare Elements and Alien goods. (Blue, green, brown and yellow)

In San Juan you select one of several different types of actions, which I have not yet memories. One of them is “captain” which allows you to put the resources you’ve produced (producing them is another action you can take) into a ship (to take back to Spain) in exchange for victory points. You may also trade your goods for doubloons. You may choose builder in order to spend your doubloons on buildings. But in order for those buildings and plantations to do any good, there is another action you choose (that I forgot the name of) to gain “colonists” to run them.

Whom ever has the most victory points when you are either out of colonists, or when all the building slots are filled, is the winner. Likewise, in Race for the Galaxy, when either all victory point chits are used up, or when twelve cards are played, the game ends and whom ever has the most victory points wins. I like the way both games run. Complex enough to feel satisfying when you win. I won my first game of San Juan by one point. Asa came in second. My mom was only three points behind in third place, and the other guy another five points behind in fourth place. I enjoyed myself.

Then, right after finishing the game (at 11:10pm) Mom and I went and picked up My boyfriend from work. We came home, and I played Diablo II with My boyfriend for a while. He’s all happy because someone who used to play a lot (who doesn’t play much anymore) gave him his account log-in so that My boyfriend could have his items. He had some good stuff in there, so My boyfriend is all happy about that.

And then My boyfriend stopped leveling me up in tomb runs, so I logged out and decided to write for a little while even though there is no particular topic I wish to write about at the moment. So I decided to write about my day and any other random thoughts that came to mind...

It makes me very happy to know that My boyfriend will be my husband.

Sunday, March 2nd 2008 at 12:35am

Angel Writes Me:

Hi Atara,

Well, I know exactly how you feel when you say that you know who you are but yet you’re still not entirely mature just yet. I also don’t see myself as an adult (I’m only 16!). I feel as if this is my prime year and I don’t know why because I already found the answers last year to the questions that haunted me all my life. Last year was definitely the toughest year for me; by far at least. I was put through a lot of crappy obstacles but like I said I was able to learn from them so no complains here.

As for Darren, I decided to leave him alone for good. At this point I really can’t indicate this as a bad or good thing because honestly I don’t know for sure but my intentions are telling me that I am making the right decision. Time will tell all right? As much as his flirty behavior flatters me inside I know his only aspiration is to be this wannabe player; why would I want to help build his reputation? I can leave that to the other females who he’s involved with. I will confess though that I don’t like the idea of us “separating” but then again I can’t take it anymore so I’m done with it. I want him to miss me. I want him to feel guilty. I want him to hurt. I want him to feel how he made me feel. Is that selfish of me?

Honestly, I appreciate the whole “get another boyfriend” advice but I don’t want another boyfriend. I feel like I don’t need one, I’d rather be independent because once I let a dude come into my life, I get distracted easily and lose focus on my priorities. If I were to let a guy into my life, I’d be extremely overwhelmed and although that seems like a good thing, it’s not. I loathe the fact that I rely on someone else for my happiness. There are going to be times when I am not with someone and I am alone, therefore I don’t want to spend that alone time crying and wishing that someone would come along and save me. I want to be able to construct my own enthusiasm so when I’m alone I don’t yearn for somebody, you know? Besides you opened my eyes wider when you stated that he could be holding me back; I don’t want to be hampered by someone who chooses to deteriorate me.

Awe yes I would most definitely consider you lucky as well; My boyfriend is a total achievement! …

‘One thing to watch out for though is going out with someone who is very different from you.’ That made me giggle because I’ve made that slip-up many times. The four serious relationships that I’ve formed in the past were with males who were completely opposite than me! My first sweetheart was dull and serious. My first true love was a metal-head. My second lover was a preppy, self-absorbed jock. Darren was a so called hustler. I fall hard for guys who are different than me and I don’t know why. I think it’s because I want to see life from someone else’s standpoint.

I also know how you feel when you say that your relationship with Tre made you become someone who you weren’t. I’ve walked in those shoes many times. When I was with Darren I lied numerously, I cussed constantly, and lost all my morals. I began to gossip (which is something I rarely do), I began to judge others before I even got a chance to know them. These may not seem like a big of a deal but they were killing me inside.

I like how you wrote this out; “and after Tre and I stopped talking, the world didn't end. It kept turning; life moved on, I discovered that I didn't miss him after all” I want to be able to say that about Darren in the future.

Well, about the whole self-centered thing, I know what you mean. The funny thing is whenever I try not to be self-centered I end up doing it and when I choose to be self-centered, I don’t even want to talk about myself. I love having you as a friend and I truly believe that you deserve to be happy so when you feel like nobody notices your accomplishments or when you feel as if nobody is admiring your projects, know that I am admiring it all!

I write Angel:

Angel,

It’s normal to want him to hurt and to miss you. (I know, it sucks hearing that what you’re going through is normal, but it’s also oddly comforting, right?) I used to feel that about Tre a lot. Though never about Jeremy. You’ll know when you find a really good guy when you don’t want him to hurt. Jeremy was forever trying his hardest for me, but I was so young and silly, and I fucked up my relationship with Jeremy. Not that I regret it, his breaking my heart helped me to grow.
It makes me so excited reading your writing and seeing how much you’ve grown so fast. I had to read this aloud to My boyfriend. I’ve mentioned you perhaps three times in the past. He liked how you put things too, he can see that you’re mad cool.

I would write you more but I’m about to leave with My boyfriend soon. Much love and luck, write back soon.

Sunday, March 2nd 2008 at 7:55pm

I don’t know what to do with myself at the moment... Fine. If he wants to do his own thing and ignore me, then I can do the same. It’s a shame. Today was going pretty well. So much for affectionate time. Whatever.

Monday, March 3rd 2008 at 9:10pm

There was supposed to be a Social Club meeting tonight. But I forgot. Chances are that nobody showed up anyway. No one has called me. No one even seems to care. I’m so glad that all that stuff is said and done with. Working with Arrin was one of the hardest things I’ve ever put myself through... That next to being with Tre. But I loved Tre, so that was different. I was trying to pull through this for pride and for money. I was trying to pull through with Tre for love. Tre last two years. Arrin lasted two months. Goes to show the power of love in comparison to pride and money, eh?

Speaking of the power of love... My boyfriend is making me giddish again, just like the beginning. I love how it feels to feel so in love. I love that other girls wish they were in my place. I love that there is good reason for them to want to be. I love that he loves me so much. I love that we can be mature and work things through, and that we can be goof-balls, and laugh and joke and be silly too.

I like that my life feels like it’s at least somewhat in my own hands. Or at least, it’s more in My boyfriend’s hands than in my parent’s. That makes me feel grown. I have no desire to be an independent (ie. Single) woman, ever. If I wasn’t with My boyfriend, I’d only be single as long as it took to get over him and to find someone else who’d at least fill the gap, if not be better. Though finding someone better would be quite the trick.

I want a husband, and I have one in the making. It makes me proud. It makes me warm. It puts my mind at ease. He wants to take care of me. He doesn’t just say so. There is a difference that can be detected between when people talk out of their ass to get anything they want, and those who say something that they truly mean. You can see it in their body language, and in their eyes. And when that isn’t enough, their actions will let you know.

I can tell by the things My boyfriend does... He bends. He’s flexible. He grows and learns with me. He recognizes me for who I am, and like me, he adapts to compliment my personality. Just what I asked for.

Monday, March 3rd 2008 at 9:22pm

My boyfriend,

My love. When I first met you I liked you because you came off as an individual. I could tell you didn’t just follow the pack, that you thought for yourself. I liked you because you liked me. I liked you because you were cute. I slept with you because I was lonely, and needy, and you were worthy of my pussy. I wanted to impress you, and I did.

I liked you even more as time when on. The more we fucked, the more we talked, the more I fell for you. I fell in love as you as I realized you were like me, the first one I’d met, the second of my own. The first other of my species, the first poison porcupine I’d met. I started to change to meet your needs, started to mold you to meet mine.

I saw in you the foundations for a husband. I saw in you my younger self, my older self, my inner artist that was never fully developed. I knew that I wanted to marry you after a short month of knowing you. I told you I wanted to marry you after only a week of going out, right before New Years day. I knew I wanted to marry you before it even turned 2007, before I even turned eighteen.

I thought I had seen the worst of you after I saw you drunk. Little did I know that you don’t have to be drunk to behave that way. But I knew you could change for me. You showed me that you could when you quit smoking cigarettes for me. I let you all the way in, and then even further after I returned from my trip. Perhaps it wasn’t until your birthday in July that I really knew you. I stopped seeing you as my first impression: a teenage black guy (as I thought you were) a little aside from the pack. I started seeing you as the full grown adult artist that you are. I saw you as a full combination of assets and faults.

And still I fell more deeply in love with you. I loved you first because you were like me. I continued to love you because you have the ability to change. My love for you kept growing because your love for me kept growing, along with our attachment. My trust in you grew as your trust in me grew. I saw you for who you are today through all of that time, through every argument, through every time you left, through every time you let me down. I saw you for the you that I have every day when you come home.

Your will to learn so much inspired me, and still inspires me. Your ability to work day in and day out, hour after hour, and to still come home and adapt back to me lets me know your strength, reveals to me your character. A cup of tea, a soggy bowl of cereale, a touch, a kiss, a look... You give your love to me, and show me your heart. I swell up inside knowing that you’re mine. I’ll cry when you cry and I’ll laugh when you laugh. I’ll be happy when you’re happy and sad when you’re sad... As I have been since I met you.

I’ll be ready for your cock. I’ll be ready for your words. I’ll be ready because you love me, because you care about me, because you understand me, because you trust me... And you call me. *talks to you*

I love it when you call me. I love that you get up, and you work, and you come home, and you give me your heart, and your energy, and your time. I promise to stay this way for you if you’ll stay this way for me sweetie. It makes me so happy. I appreciate everything, I really do.

You’re my cutie, my babe, my baby, my love, my citadel, my sweetie, my My boyfriend. You’re everything to me babe. Everything... I need you in my life. I’m with you now because I know you’ll reach your full potential, not because you have potential, but because you’re using it. I love that about you. I love you, for who you are... Just like I know you love me for who I am.

~Phoenix

Ayian & Angel

Tuesday, February 26th 2008 at 12:42pm

Some entries I should write, or at least topics I should cover:

Video games, and how they are dissatisfying

Bob, and the interesting (and short) place he took in my life

New cast page for Tina

About my novel, and why it’s taking so long

My relationship with my Dad and how it has changed

How I plan to raise my children

My road trip plans for September

My printed journal, and the role it takes in my life in contrast with my online journal

Letter to my twelve-year-old self

My favorite memories of My boyfriend thus-far

Naruto and how it’s starting to suck really bad

I think this entry will be about my road trip I’m planning for September... As most of you probably know, last year, in 2007, my Dad and I (shortly after beginning my relationship with My boyfriend) went on a road trip. We left in March, and planned to be gone three full weeks.

I packed as little as I could for that length of time. My luggage with my Dad’s needed to take up only half of the storage space in the car (with the back-seats down) so that there would be enough room for my to lay down beside everything.

During the day I sat beside my Dad navigating and watching the scenery. At night I slept in the back of the car while Dad drove through the night. We stopped at my Aunt Sharon’s (and Uncle Bruce’s – my Dad’s older brother) in North Carolina, as well as Roy’s (and Lori’s but they’re not together anymore) in Georgia, and Trevor’s (and his soon-to-be wife’s where Roy is staying now) in Texas, and my internet friend Marie’s in South California and my cousin Jason’s (who is the executive director of the group the designed Call of Duty – I saw the first level on his big screen in his building in Los Angeles before the other levels were even made) as well as my other internet friend Wyatt in South Lake Tahoe in the middle of California. After that two weeks were pretty much done. We turned back, and drove through countless deserts, stretching for miles, and visited Nicole in Iowa (where I got drunk for the last time – I had to quit after how stupid I was that night) who is another internet friend of mine. All before we turned home.

Now, we’re thinking of doing it again. Last time we were able to do it because of a decently sized inheritance from my Grandmother (on my Dad’s side) and some further assistance along the way. This time, My boyfriend wants to go, and his income added to the pool is what is going to allow us to go this time. The only catch? Getting a full month off of work!

The guys at Hardcore Tattoos don’t like giving their employees any time off at all. Not even a single day much less an entire month. That’s why we plan to do it in September, because it’s the slowest month of the year for tattoos. Colleges, and high schools are getting started up for the year. The students are busy with new friends, old friends, new classes, old classes, paperwork, transportation scheduling, early-year parties, etc. But will Nikki go for it? It’s hard to say.

It’s also a full six months away. She’ll have plenty of time to find a temporary replacement for My boyfriend. But that’s exactly what My boyfriend is afraid of. What if they don’t want him back? I think it’s nonsense that they wouldn’t want him back. But My boyfriend has his fears because of what has happened to past employees. But here is how I look at it:

He’s (by far) the best artist at the shop.

He’s (by far) the most dedicated artist at the shop.

He’s (by far) the most responsible and reasonable employee at the shop.

And if they don’t want him anymore, he can take his talent elsewhere.

But he doesn’t want to look at it that way. He’s busy looking at the fact that Nikki is unreasonable, and so are his co-workers. They might not be logical and might fire him. Then he might be without work for days, or maybe even weeks or a couple months before finding another good job. I understand the fear, but I think it’s unbiased because Frank (Nikki’s husband) likes him so much. And he has a lot of clientele now who’d be looking for him if he was gone.

Wednesday, February 27th 2008 at 2:31pm

Ayian,

You finally updated! I actually missed a lot of entries because you hadn't written for so long that I forgot to check there for a while. So I just had a delightful morning full of reading your writing.

I was the kid playing with Barbies, but incidently, I developed early, so when I was 9 I was the tallest and largest girl, so I still ended up bullying the boys whenever they teased me by chasing them around, hitting them, kicking them, pulling their hair. And then crying like a little spoiled princess that I was, lol.

On another note, I took dance classes for twelve years, and I still sucked. I learned more about how to dance on my own in the years since I quit then I did in those classes. The classes never taught me how to just feel the music and follow it. And I do get possessed by the music, but it doesn't always come out very attractive. I still love dancing though. I'd love to dance with you.

I took tap dance for seven years, but like I said, I wasn't taught to feel the beat. I just mimicked the steps as best as I could. But my timing was so terrible...

Anyway, I read way back, even re-reading several entries. I don’t mistake you for being older than me anymore. I can recognize you now in some odd way through your writing. Through your lessons and feelings. I want to meet you. Though I’m not so sure anymore what the point really is, since I likely can’t have you, and it would most likely be brief.

I’m (probably) going on another road trip. This time with my Dad and My boyfriend. In September. I don’t know how far you live into Canada, so I don’t know if it would be reasonable to see you or not. Oddly I feel compelled to type out that I love you, which is obviously crazy since we haven’t even met.

Anyway, if we’re to meet, then I’d need your exact address so I could map-quest it from the nearest planned stop on the road trip so I can see if we’d have time to strike north during the trip.

Wednesday, February 27th 2008 at 11:36pm

I can’t say for sure or not if this is like me or not, but I’ve made a complete 180. (I suppose it’s like me, since I made a 180 degree turn in my emotions for Jeremy – when I first met him I hated him, was even disgusted by him.) I’ve made a 180 degree turn around on my emotions towards sex outside of my relationship. I’m starting to even question if I would want to have a threesome with a girl, though I haven’t told My boyfriend that yet.

I keep thinking about him fucking Michelle, and how she made him cum. It makes me queasy to think about it. The face he makes when he thinks about Rocsanne looks just like the face he made when he first met me... I feel so utterly ridiculous for feeling this way when a mere month ago I said that he could fuck whoever he wanted. (With a condom of course.) Just a mere month ago I called myself an understanding girlfriend who understood how sometimes other attractions happened.

I’ve been there. But the odd thing is, I grew out of that. (At least I think I have. I haven’t had a crush outside of a relationship since Jay, and that was mostly because of my utter disgust with Tre at the time.) I’m not interested in other sexual encounters that aren’t with My boyfriend anymore. Sexy strangers don’t attract me anymore. I’m just not interested. I don’t even doubt my power to turn down Tre if he showed up at my door anymore. I know I’d feel no temptation. I know because of how I feel now, because of how much deeper it is.

But what if My boyfriend is still in the same world I was in when I was 15? What if he is having full-blown crushes on girls? What’s the correct solution? I can’t make him feel any other way than how he feels, and after granting this privilege for so long, how is it affecting him to have it taken away?

I guess I know exactly how it’s affecting him. After he told me (grudgingly) that I could fuck Tre while I was on my trip, and then shortly thereafter told me I couldn’t, I was hurt for a while. Then I accepted it. And after I stopped talking to him altogether, I realized that my new life didn’t have room for other interests and fantasies besides My boyfriend, and I came fully to peace with that.

Why does his orgasm make it different? Why does thinking about him cumming in Michelle make all the difference? Why do I fucking care!

Thursday, February 28th 2008 at 12:11am

I just had sex with my love. He got all worked up when I showed him how wet I got today – the evidence being a large puddle in my panties. He loves wetness. He left the computer area to go to the bed to masturbate. I kinda figured what he was up to, and I followed him and had sex with him. I wanted to do it anyway, I was just going to wait until a little later.

My boyfriend says I don’t have sex with him enough. He wants sex everyday without fail, especially if he’s going to keep coming come everyday. Okay, we just made an agreement. I’m allowed to miss one day a week (or four days in a month) of fucking him, and for every day over that (if I miss five days in a month) he can spend a day out with the boys that I won’t complain or anything. (If I miss six days in a month, he can go out two days that month, etc.)

I’m pleased with this agreement.

Thursday, February 28th 2008 at 4:52pm

2/28/08 1:20AM Eastern Standard Time
Angel Writes Me:

Hey Atara,

Well I’m still digging out your past and I must say you are a very interesting person; so far from tedious, yes you are. I have some questions but can’t quite seem to find the right way to ask; it’s like… difficult to find the perfect words or something.

Anyways, I love your banners that you created. It’s amazing how you put them together by yourself; that’s another thing you excel at!! I recently read your most recent entry and I’m sorry that your Teen Social Club did not go the way you wanted it to go. It’s impossible to tame youths these days, I should know.

…

On a whole different subject; I feel pretty optimistic these days. I re-read some of the e-mails that I sent you months ago and I was shaken by the fact that all I ever did was cast my problems onto you but I couldn’t help it you know? I was completely friendless and lonesome. I wanted someone to spill my guts out to and I felt like I met you at such the perfect time because finally I had found someone who not only was a candid, loving, beautiful woman but also a terrific chick who gave out some helpful advice. You were practically the reason for my smile =) I want to thank you for actually listening to me and not being ignorant like most people here. I want to thank you for being straightforward and being very open. I can honestly make a long list of how brilliant you are but I rather not because it might never have an ending, Lol.

I noticed that most of my e-mails revolved around Darren. Well, Darren was being Darren you know? Did I ever mention that we broke up? Yeah, he was still with his ex (while he was with ME and get this, he was also with ANOTHER CHICK) so he had THREE chicks and well obviously he was enjoying it. I wasn’t upset about it at first because before I went on to the trip (his hometown for Winter Break) I asked God in prayer to give me the truth because I was sick and tired of the confusion and discontent I was receiving from that relationship. And the first day I spent there was when I caught him with his GF. That look on his face was completely priceless; he was trying to hide himself as if I couldn’t see him when he was right in the open, LOL. Later on it did it hit me and I didn’t cry but I dropped some tears. I felt as if I had just lost a friend and I did because he was the first real person I ever really considered a true friend. I confided in him with so much and he made me happy…. Now he’s trying to get me back, he’s calling me baby, constantly sends texts and calls me. I hate to say it but I don’t mind and that’s why my sister is mad at me. Everyone is telling me that I should be a bitch to him and treat him like shit because he deserves it and yes that’s true. I know for a fact that they’re right but even if I wanted to be mean to him, I just can’t. I can’t hate him for making a mistake and I shouldn’t hate him for being only human right? We all make mistakes and he just happened to be one of mine. I told him I don’t hate him and I forgive him… I want to leave him alone but it’s like I’m living off his company or something because he still makes me happy like he use to. I want to be able to consider him as a friend but he thinks the other way… I don’t want to leave him alone because like I stated before he’s the first closest person who seems like an actual friend and if I tell him to quit flirting then he might take it in a offensive way and leave me alone for good. All I want to be is his friend, specifically his best friend. That’s all I want to be to him but that’s hard to do because his feelings for me are… the same as they were ‘back then’….. I know we can be friends; it's possible but I know that he will make it impossible.... He still makes me hate myself *sigh*

Ugh but you know what? I also learned a lot from every thing in the past. All those mistakes I made and all those times I felt worthless made me very strong. I feel as if I’ve been reincarnated into this whole new person. I don’t complain about pointless crap anymore (most of the time, I should say). I don’t cry unless I have a real reason to cry. I don’t use sarcasm as much as I use to. I don’t cuss (I never really did) but I almost got into that type of behavior but luckily I got out unharmed! I was surrounded by so many bad influences that it almost took over my life. I almost believed that there was no meaning to life; that I was just some lifeless, stupid, overemotional crybaby. I realize now that life is life; every thing happens for a reason whether if we like it or not. It all happens because God knows that it’s best for us, even if we don’t think it is.

Basically, I feel a lot more mature. I have a long way to go and learn many, many new things but as for now I am just content with all the happiness, all the bullshit, and of course all the mistakes.

Well, I would love to hear from you; you know a 411? X] Oh and some advice on the Darren situation would be greatly appreciated!

2/28/08 4:54PM Eastern Standard Time
I Write Angel:

Angel,
It’s incredible to see how much you’ve grown in just a few months. I’m still growing up really fast, but not as fast as I was a few years ago. Right now you’re going through an expansive phase – I went through that phase for I’d say four years, two with Jeremy and two with Travanti. When I met My boyfriend, I was already “me” even though I wasn’t fully matured. I still don’t see myself as an adult even though others do.

I think hard relationships is a quick way to learn about life and to grow. My relationship with Travanti was stupid looking back on it, but the fact that I was willing to put up with all the crap he put me through back then just goes to show how much I had to learn yet. I wanted to be friends with Tre, just like you want to be friends with Darren. It might seem possible, and it might seem like a good idea, but there are more factors than just him and you, and his feelings and your feelings.

I’d like to be friends with Jeremy still to this day. Unfortunately, I can’t. The first and foremost reason that I can’t still be friends with Jeremy is because I know he still wishes things could have worked out between us. So it’s hard on him to see how happy I am in my relationship with My boyfriend. But there are two more (almost as large) reasons why him and I can’t be friends. Janet, and My boyfriend. Janet is his girlfriend, and they’ve been going out for the three years (almost four years now) since Jeremy and I broke up. Janet hates me because Jeremy continued to sleep with me while they were together (while Tre and I were together) for like a month. And then, after Tre and I broke up... Jeremy and I started hanging out again for a little while. So Janet thinks I’m a lying bitch... But really, she’s just not intelligent enough for Jeremy in my opinion. Anyway, all of that is besides the point. The point is, while I could be Jeremy’s friend without ever feeling tempted, Jeremy might not feel the same way, and My boyfriend and Janet don’t want us to be friends.

Same for Tre. While I could hang out with Tre without stirring up old feelings (if he actually lived in Buffalo, but he’s long-since gone), Tre probably couldn’t. Or even if he could, there is still Danya and My boyfriend to consider too.

Jeremy was like my first friend too, as well as my first love. I was Tre’s first love. But we can’t be friends because society just doesn’t work that way. The best thing to do (from my experience) is to find another boyfriend. Darren will get jealous if he sees you with another man, which is all the more reason not to have Darren around when you get a new boyfriend.

For me, each new man was a new learning experience. It may not be the best track for everybody, but my relationships brought me understanding, knowledge and maturity. The other girls just didn’t understand what I was going through. Some nineteen-year-old girls still haven’t ever been in a serious relationship. Some girls get married and have kids without discovering what they really want.

I consider myself extremely lucky to have found My boyfriend so early in my life. Some women get old, and die without ever being really loved they way they should be loved. (Some women never have an orgasm during sex! In fact, a lot of them don’t! And I think half the problem is that they’re not really in love.)

My point is, keeping Darren around might end up holding you back.

If it’s any consolation, while right now you might feel like you’ve made a truck load of mistakes over the past few years, and you may feel like life is going to be nothing but a path of failing, when you look back on it, all the mistakes fade away, and you only remember one or two major fuck-ups, but along with them, they’ll be one or two particular memories that are really happy, and one or two memories that are really funny, etc. Just in the last year with My boyfriend, my memories of Tre and Jeremy narrowed down to a hand-full of lessons and happy memories. I stopped dwelling on how stupid I acted, how silly I was, how naive I was. It starts to seem more and more natural that I did the things I did – I was young. I still am young!

One thing to watch out for though is going out with someone who is very different from you. We women adapt better then me do to our partner. We change often when they don’t. And when they don’t change at all, we change even more to compensate, or at least I do. I discovered after I broke up with Tre that I had become a whole other person while I was with him. I was lucky that I was able to change back again over time. I cursed a lot while I was with him, I smoked pot daily, most of the time I smoked multiple times in a day. I was constantly high, and I was gaining weight (slowly but surely), and I was stressed out a lot. I cried while he slept. I lost my sex drive towards the end entirely. I thought at the time that it was normal, that I was just getting older – I was only 17 and I had lost my sex drive! I think it was a combination of my anger towards him and the weed.

I was turning ghetto, and it was a scary thing for my parents. After I broke up with him it was like a dark cloud was lifted. I quit smoking weed (though not entirely until around five months later) and I quit drinking (in April of 2007) and I started to talk like I did before I met him (with the help of my mother’s daily influence) and I became interested in art, poetry and writing again anew. I started dancing again, I started living again. I fell in love again, and accepted that and went out with my new love (My boyfriend) on December 20th of 2006.

I tried to keep on talking to Tre over the phone, but it was causing a disruption in his life and in mine to keep talking to him. Sometime in May or June I think I stopped talking to him even on the phone. We both agreed that it was fucking up our lives to keep on talking. It made Danya and him argue, and it made My boyfriend and I argue. And after Tre and I stopped talking, the world didn’t end. It kept turning, life moved on, I discovered that I didn’t miss him after all. I do get curious now and then, but not enough to try and find out what he’s up to these days.

So bare that in mind when you do find another man who you deem as worth your love. His morals and interests need to not conflict with yours. If he lies, and you consider lying unforgivable, then don’t give him the time of day, because over time, his ways will wear on you, and you might find yourself doing things you don’t approve of. If he steals, then he’s not worth it. If he cheats, then he’s not worth it. Even if he’s messy, then you might not want to bother, because would you marry a man who can’t pick up after himself at all? I don’t want to be a maid for life. I was so charmed when I saw My boyfriend fold his own clothing neatly for the first time.

As my mom said to me, a good way to know if a man is right for you is to imagine waking up next to him everyday. Imagine what your room would look like. Imagine how he’d be at the breakfast table with your kids. Imagine kissing him after he got home from work. You’ll know when you imagine those things if he’s right for you or not.

Anyway, I don’t mind. You can tell me anything you want. Everyone has problems, and it’s better to talk about your own problems than to talk about someone else’s. Isn’t it? It’s not gossiping if you’re talking about yourself.

That’s another thing I was thinking about as I was reading your letter. The older we get, the less self-centered we become. It’s kinda natural to be self-centered as a young teenager. You have so much to learn about yourself still. Only now am I really starting to become interested in other people’s lives. I mean, I cared when I was 14, 15, 16 etc, but I wasn’t truly interested and I suppose I didn’t have reason to be when I was so busy noticing myself change and grow.

It sounds to me like you’re on the right track. I appreciate your praise. Not many people bother to point out that I have good advice. Then again, many people don’t point out anything positive about anybody. Keep it up. I look forward to hearing from you.

Ups and Downs of a Teen Social Club

Thursday, February 7th 2008 at 4:30pm

Pat,

I respect what you’re saying. But what do you REALLY think I’m trying to do here? Erin is not going to be at any parties or events, he’s just renting me the location. In fact, I’ve had him stop talking to Jasmine because he obviously gives people the creeps. He’s not talking to anybody but me now. He’s not involved, he’s just renting me the space.

Second of all, what do you think I’m going to have going on at these parties? You make it sound like I’m going to let thirteen year old girls shoot coke or something. I would never allow something like that! I especially wouldn’t allow someone to try a drug out that they’ve never done before under the name of a Social Club that belongs to me. In fact, I wouldn’t let that happen in front of me anywhere!

What are you trying to imply? That this guy is going to have sex with these teens? That I’m doing to be providing crack? That’s what it sounds like to me, and there is no way in the world I’d do something like that. How are you going to try and stop me from giving kids a place to go?

What I really want is to encourage young people to vote, and to eat organic food, and to take an interest in a hobby, but I know I can’t just start with that. I’ve tried. Kids don’t come to something they think is for their education or betterment for the most part. So I’m starting with parties, and between the parties and meetings I’m sure I’ll find people I can help.

It’s better they come to a Social Club party and someone sells them some drugs, and they get trashed and are taken care of then if they show up at some stranger’s house with friends, get fucked up, raped, and wake up in a ditch. Kids are going to party, and kids will get a hold of drugs, no matter what I do or don’t do, but at least this way they’ll be fed, and housed, and have opportunities to do more with their life.

I admit that Erin is only letting me use the space to start this thing because he wants to make money off of it, but the fact that he’s ‘dirty’ as you said he is, is irrelevant even if it’s true. Because he’ll never meet the members, or even the staff. That’s my job.

If you get in the way of this I’m going to have no choice but to fight back, and it seems to me like you’re a nice guy, and on top of that, you’re Jasmine’s friend, so I’d much prefer that you were my ally, not my enemy. As I said, what do you really think I’m trying to do? You make it sound like I’m evil or something.

I love this city too. I care about the health of my generation. My generation is disgusting, and I’m going to try and get on their level, by giving them parties, and from there, after gaining their respect as the coolest party hostess, I’ll be able to really speak to them. What’s wrong with that? As if a bunch of teenagers dancing all night is bad for the city or something! For goodness sakes they’ll get some much-needed exercise and self-expression.

So please, please, please, stop flaming this operation.

Phoenix

Rocsanne,

So here's the story, and the whole story.

My boyfriend didn't ask for your number because he thinks that Raph is going to be upset. He says you were talking about having a four-some with us and stuff, sounds like good stuff. Raph doesn't look like my type, but he can have a taste of me if I can have a taste of you. :)

My friend Tina and her friends invited My boyfriend and I out to Canada to go to a strip club tomorrow night. There should be room enough (3 cars, but who knows how many people are really going) for you to come, and maybe Raph too.

How serious are you and Raph? I won't tell, you can be honest with me about anything. I'm honest about everything cause I don't have shit to hide from anybody. You'll learn that about me fast when/if we meet.

Write back soon.

~Phoenix

PS: I don’t know if you know this about me, but I don’t drink, smoke, eat sugar, etc, anymore. I care about my health too much for that stuff. So don’t let it weird you out or anything. Some people think that makes me an alien or something.

Rocsanne writes me back:

Wow, you sound amazing. i dont think raph is really into doing the whole 5 sum thing or even do anything in like that matter he wants to be serious with me and we been dating for like 4 days now. and he is afraid that i will get feeling for cor and I wont because i’ve had plenty of 3 sums a wile back...he said he would not know really what to do to be honest. When corv told me that you wanted to have your first 3 sum i was like wow your chic is totally fuckable i love goth chicks i used to be goth myself and then now im just laying down to skateboard clothing corv told me to go back to goth cuz he said that would be so awsom.but on the subject yeah honestly i think your immaculate and beautiful and yes, fuckable.

I wrote her:

I can see in my head the smile My boyfriend had.... lol. So what's good with going to a strip club (in canada) tomorrow night? And what's good with you dressing goth? And what's good with your digits?
*smooch*

PS:

Even if you did have a “feeling” for My boyfriend, he’s taken anyway. My boyfriend and I have been together for over a year, and every time we meet a chick we both like she’s either straight or prude. I’m not really a three-some virgin, but damn-near. All my three-some experiences were lame as can be. Anyway, you’re welcome to come over. 583 W. Utica St.... Yo, if you wanna come to the club tomorrow just bring your ID and your birth certificate to Hardcore and be there at 11:00pm when he get’s out of work and you can get picked up with him.

Sunday, February 10th 2008 at 3:34pm

I’m done screaming. It’s not worth it, is it? I don’t even know what’s worth it and what isn’t! I feel like... Like... I’m helpless. How many times have I written those words?
I’m tired of... I don’t even have the strength to argue my point anymore.

Thursday, February 14th 2008 at 2:07pm

Laura,

I was looking at your photos, and I was going to leave a comment, but then as I started to write it, it got very long, and then it got personal, so I thought perhaps I should just write you instead.

You know how real friends are supposed to be honest with you? Well, I'm going to try and be a real friend and be very honest with you. You're a very, very beautiful girl. But no matter what the populous thinks, you are overweight. You have such a pretty face, and obvious assets, that if you were to slim down, you'd look like a model. And I hate to sound shallow, but I'd probably be very apt to take you home with me now and then as well if that were the case.

And I don't mean by starving yourself. Unlike other teenagers your age, you don't have the metabolism to handle eating junk food and high fructose corn syrup. The rest of them will probably gain weight, and start to lose their health in their late twenties, but for you, it'll happen sooner.

I'm telling you this because you're my friend, and I care about you. I know I'm always ranting about this health stuff, and I know it drives everybody crazy, but I rant about it because it upsets me to see people hurting themselves, especially people I care about. Especially when I know how to help, but nobody wants to listen.

If you want to heed my words, don't try to starve yourself, and don't try to change your whole diet or lifestyle at once. Just start by not eating high fructose corn syrup. It's the first and biggest step, and also the hardest for most people. If you want to take the second step as well, that is to not eat within two hours of going to sleep.

I'll see you tomorrow. :)

~Phoenix

Thursday, February 14th 2008 at 4:19pm

I haven’t been writing. Perhaps it has to do with the fact that I’m reading the best fantasy book I ever read. “Breath and Bone” which is the second book in a two-book series. The first one is “Flesh and Spirit.” Incredible plot, incredible characters, incredible mysteries. It’s just wonderful.

It also has to do with the Social Club. The websites always need updating and checking, and the phones always need answering. Paper always needs sorting. Forms and flyers always need printing. Always someone to talk to, always somewhere to go. At least I’m not bored. I’m just anxious for this to start paying off tomorrow at the first party.

It’s Valentine’s day. I ought to work on doing something for My boyfriend at this point. Since I’m without a printer there isn’t much more I can do today towards tomorrow. Man it’s not good that I can’t print. It’s not good at all.

Friday, February 15th 2008 at 1:11pm

Today is going to be a rough day. About twenty five different things can go wrong, from damages to under-staffing to nobody showing up. I’m worried, but somehow, I’m also confident at the moment. Let’s see how long that lasts.

Saturday, February 16th 2008 at 5:55pm

Confidence has long since drained out of me.

It sickens me how stupid everything and everyone can be. I’ve been so long without my hobbies and projects that I hardly know where to go with them and whence I am.

Thieves. I hate thieves. Even more than I hate liars, and I hate liars a lot. Though I probably don’t hate liars as much as I hate being called a liar.

I refuse to be stressed out. Stress accelerates aging. I will warm up, I will relax. I will eat. No matter that I have no time to write this entry. No matter that I should be making phone calls, reading messages, writing messages... The floor isn’t clean. The clothes aren’t clean. This house is still a bundle of clutter. I wish I could make cleaning it up my first priority. Cleaning should be my hobby until this house is in order.

Unfortunately, right now, socializing with teenagers in the hopes of gaining revenue seems to be my hobby right now. I’m getting so that I can hardly stand it. The only socializing I can do all day, all night and still not be tired of is with My boyfriend. I have a high tolerance for my mom despite the bundle of problems surrounding her and within her. But I’m sick of Tim, the owner of the house of the social club location to the point of insanity.

I’m sick of teens that are supposedly mature, and supposedly smart who just act like bumbling idiots when it comes down to it. Oh, have I forgotten my composure? Oops.

Okay. Let’s try this again. I’m optimistic about the second party tonight despite the thievery, damages, lies, arguments, mismanagement, minimal income, and general disappointments of last night. I still believe this can be profitable and worth while.

The real problem is drugs. Nobody in Buffalo wants to do anything without drugs. I gained my popularity just under a year ago because I threw these crazy parties in my poor excuse for an apartment with rampant alcohol, weed and sometimes (though not of my doing) ecstasy as well. No one really danced, but we played music.

Everyone seemed to love them, except me. I was sick of the cleaning, sick of minding what people were doing, sick of looking out for theft, sick of preparing for it, just to pick up after it. Sick of providing. Sick of being the go-to. It was too much, and so I quit.

This same group of people who attended those parties are (pretty much) the same people who’re playing at being my staff. I say playing at, because only three, maybe four of them are worth being called staff. Tina, while being mature, is limited in what she can do, being seven months pregnant and all. (The first being a product of the latter.)

Angel being moderately trustworthy is moderately useful, but the number of claims against him makes him questionable, not to mention his extremely loud manner. There is a handful of girls I learned last night that I can’t trust worth a hill of beans. Though Laura and Megan seem to be able to do a decent job, and are at least trustworthy if not perfect staff.

And what to do about the low turn out of people? And what to do about the theft? What to do...