What is it About a Broken Heart That Brings Out the Absolute Worst Clichés?!?

I don't feel like talking to anyone right now because I keep hearing all the pat responses that people feel obligated to say when someone's heart is crushed:

Love will come when you least expect it

You must love yourself before anyone else will

'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

I so totally disagree with this one. It isn't all that bad to have never loved at all. You won't know what you're missing!

Time heals all wounds

But only after it pours gallons of salt in first.

Every storm cloud has a silver lining

And that's something to look forward to after you've been electrocuted by lightning?

There are plenty of other fish in the sea

That which does not kill us makes us stronger

Tomorrow is a new day

...To wake up and remember all over again why you're so depressed in the first place!

Some day your prince will come/ You’ll find your pot of gold at the end of the rainbow

But how many leprechauns do I have to kiss first?

Live and learn

And get bitten in the ass over and over and over again...

Look before you leap

Love is blind

And deaf. And dumb. Perhaps even profoundly retarded.

That’s the way the cookie crumbles

You are better off without them

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade

Can I add vodka to my lemonade? Actually, can I just skip the lemonade part all together and go straight for the vodka?

You made your bed, now you have to lay in it.

You’re damned if you do, damned if you don’t

Ain't dat da truth!

So if I seem a bit withdrawn, it's not because I don't want to talk to you. It's really because I don't want to hear the same advice over and over again. I'm hurting. I’m depressed. It sucks. And the dopey clichés just don't help at the moment. Don’t take it personally.

Quote O' The Day

“When you're a pessimist, you're rarely ever disappointed. You expect the worst to happen and if it doesn't, then you're pleasantly surprised. But if what you expected actually occurs, well then you were just plain right all along.”

-A.M. Sutherland

Who Says I Can't Do That?

I may be in a lotta pain right now and pissed at the whole freaking world and the supposed heavens above but there's no reason that I can't buy the skinniest pair of jeans (and cheapest- $10!) I've ever owned and belly dance in them all Sunday afternoon!

I soooooooo needed that too.

It was nice to have that little voice in my head change tunes for a while and whisper "I feel sexy" in my ears. I spent the whole day in my living room, doing chores, wiggling my ass off, and watching TV in these jeans. I really didn't want to take them off. I'm even wearing them to work today too. They're just that hot.

I'm so shallow and I couldn't give a flippin’ fudge at this very second.

But hey, as an almost former fat girl, I should get a bit of a break now and then. Since I've had no appetite the last two weeks, I've lost 8 lbs. That brings my grand total to 68.5. Still, a part of me would gladly give up the skinny jeans and be a happy fat chick if I was able to remain in a perpetually blissful state of love...

The New Namesake

Dan Eldon, 1970-1993

His journals left behind are an awe-inspiring and visually stunning study of a single life and soul that didn't ever let go.

A Return to Margaritaville

There was a time, not so long ago, when I was profoundly depressed. I was in a school program that I found dull, I was living in filth, I was treating my body as if it was a never ending shell and I filled it full of food from morning until night. I couldn't live the way that I was, but there didn't seem a way out.

At one point during those years, I was given a school assignment to complete. I created a small vacation home that was just for me. I named it after one of my favorite songs that always helped me through the day. I spent a ton of time on this place, thinking of every detail, living and breathing the spaces whenever I could fly away to that dream place. It was set in one of the most pleasant places I could think of- The Carolina Coast- where the sand was warm and the stars reflected on the water throughout the night. It was my space to retreat to. It was a very original design and I would have received an A if I'd actually done the required presentation.

After the class was over, my project expanded. The 900 square feet morphed into more than 3,000 and then to 6,000+ total square feet. I began taking bits and pieces of design elements I was exposed to and adding them to this home. I had a three wall sliding glass door in the living space, a Spanish tiled kitchen, a Japanese garden/courtyard surrounded on four sides by bedrooms and other retreat areas, red clay tiles on the roof, a stylistic office to one side done in the Frank Lloyd Wright Unitarian style, a large patio with a kiln for wheel pottery, and a generous oceanfront view. There were thousands upon thousands of details within this house. It became a 3d space that showcased my favorite architecture.

I lived in that space whenever reality was too much for me to bear. When I had to go to the dentist and they’d stick that awful drill in my mouth, I’d run to Margaritaville. When I had a rotten day, I fell asleep dreaming of adventures there. I spent hours and hours there in both my waking life and dream time.

No one was ever at Margaritaville with me. There were no spouses, no children, and no loved ones to ever visit me there. I was alone. Even when I tried to fit someone there, an ex boyfriend for instance, they never seemed to fill the space right with me. I was never sure why.

Last year, I met two people who forever changed my life. I don’t need to revisit the history, as it is available all over this blog. These two people helped crack the ice that surrounded my inner self and they let all of the things out, thawing the best of me that I’d been keeping inside. I felt nearly whole and it was a joyous time. At some point, I realized that I had abandoned Margartitaville in favor of living in the real world near these two people. It dawned on me that it was the building, the site itself that was the problem and not the people that I couldn’t place there.

I’m not going into details about recent events but suffice it to say that I have gambled and lost big-time.

I packed my bags this last week and today I retreated to Margaritaville as I prefer to sleep instead of living in the state that I have found myself in. But the place I have come home to is no longer the same. The buildings are in ruin. The materials that were used throughout the retreat have aged considerably, as if the whole place had been built centuries ago. I stand in the middle of this mess and I don’t know how to put it back together again. I can’t make sense of anything to begin rebuilding it. But I can’t leave either. As I figure out how to rebuild this fantasy world, I have set up a temporary lean-to, and I spend as much time as possible wandering along the beach and listening to the wind blow through the pines near the shore. Sleep is a blissful relief, even when there is no where to go.

It is with great pain...

that I am announcing that I have two separate people in my life who are giving me the silent treatment. One has ignored me for 7 days, the other for close to 90. Some days are tolerable like this (as I don't have to face these people minute by minute and be treated to the joys of a visual silent treatment). Some days I let the anger take over. Some days resentment kicks in and I wonder how I'll ever be able to forgive.



Although we all know what those two words together mean, I thought I'd take a second and post a common definition here:

si·lent treat·ment

noun
Definitions:

period of deliberately not communicating: a prolonged spell of refusing to communicate as a way of expressing contempt, anger, disapproval, or some other negative emotion ( informal )

Here's what the silent treatment says to me, personally:

You are not worth my time, my energy, my respect and my love. I have no loyalty to you. I'd prefer not to know you. I shall ignore you like I ignore dirt on the ground. You are not any more important than that dirt. You are not a human being as far as I'm concerned and so I shall not treat you as if you exist with any emotions.


I'm not going to lie to all of you. I have used the silent treatment in the past when communicating my displeasure or anger over something. Sometimes it is intentional, sometimes it is not. I have come to realize that there are very few people in my life that I would want to ignore in such a manner because it is such a cruel way to treat another person. I have learned that if I want to change something or even if I want to communicate, I have to do so with words (even if they are strong at times). To ignore someone is to deny them a place in your life and in your heart. It's really just that simple.

I Don't Feel Like Being Nice

The fire in my belly is raging on today
if I ignore it, it’ll only get worse
and I don't feel like being nice and kind and happy.

The pain is reaching unbearable heights
there's no extinguishing it right now
and I don't have to apologize to no one.

I am not responsible for others, only myself
I cannot and do not have to be perfect
and it's not all my fault.

I am a human being with feelings and
I deserve more that I am getting
regardless of whether you want me here or not.

I'm doing my very best
and if that's not good enough
then tough, there is nothing else I can or have to do.

Timberline Lodge Interiors

When can I say uncle?

Unlike Ghost Dog, I have a billion and one things to gripe about today. I'm supposed to counteract his rant but I don't have the strength today.

Monday's suck.

They just suck.

And there's no way to get around it.

Pommie

If I Hear One More Word About Posting Too Many Pet Pictures....

There Now, That's Much Better!

I'd written an email a while back to explain to someone how you fix the blogger pictures to make them the size you want. I recently found that email and Voila! I am back to normal. Now you can enjoy my pictures the way I intended.

Also heads up, I just attended the UO rally to support the women of South Dakota and my initial assessment is that I got a couple of great shots. I'll be sharing them next week.

February at Timberline Lodge

© Punkin Dunkin Productions

So You Had A Bad Day

So where is the passion when you need it the most
Oh you and I
You kick up the leaves and the magic is lost

Cause you had a bad day
You're taking one down
You sing a sad song just to turn it around
You say you don't know
You tell me don't lie
You work at a smile and you go for a ride
You had a bad day
You've seen what you like
And how does it feel for one more time
You had a bad day
You had a bad day
You had a bad day

-Bad Day by Daniel Powter

When I went to bed last night, I was fighting a mild case of melancholy. I was sick and tired of all the alone time, tired of the highly inadequate and frustratingly garbled phone calls that I endure, and tired of constantly waiting for the next time when I will be held. I didn’t think that the ‘lonelies’ were going to last thru the night and into my morning, but they caught me off guard and roared with a vengeance when I spent yet another few minutes on the phone this morning with poor reception threatening the call, my bad ears struggling to hear, and the announcement that plans for the weekend were changing. It is quickly turning into a bad day.

As someone whose cell phone is permanently glued to her head, I hate being partially deaf whenever the reception isn't optimum (and with cell phones, we all know that's almost all the time). I also hate my new cell phone because the one place it doesn’t work is my apartment, which is ironic considering who I have as a carrier. And as a Taurus, I hate when plans change. Change is bad, nkay, and it gives me a headache.

But being in a poly relationship is all about compromise and going with the flow. So I’m going to have to learn to live in this manner. Otherwise, I’m totally screwed.



I suppose I could combat the ‘lonelies’ at night by buying one of these ‘Boyfriend’s Arm’ pillows ( and judging from the picture, it is only half of a body... that's all I'm really asking for much of the time). But I’d have to hide it in the back of the closet any time someone came over since as far as I’m concerned it seems to be almost on par with a blowup doll!



When I'm lonely, it often feels as if I’m the only person going through this polyamory thing. I search the crowds, bookstores and the internet for someone else who knows what it’s like to be a (future?) secondary in a poly relationship. Sometimes the bookstores are helpful, but more often then not, I find what does not apply to me, over and over and over again. I truly feel for women that grow up in these disgusting and oppressive households. When asked whether I think polygamy should be legalized, I often stop and think about my response. Sure I’d love be able to legally marry the love of my life. However, if it means that polygamy allows the misogynistic culture of some subgroups to thrive, then my little legal piece of paper comes at a great sacrifice. And I’m simply not willing to do that others. When I think of polyamory and polygamy, I think of Consensual Adult Relationships. If you don’t have all three, then it isn’t appropriate and it isn’t meant for anyone. Period (Besides, there's already a tee-shirt out there for me and I'd be happy with that).

I find it futile to speak to friends and family. Sure they love me. Sure they are there for me but I don't know how they can truly help me since they don't fully understand. Once when I was having a bad day and I relayed my frustrations about various aspects of my hectic life to a person close to me, I made the mistake of going on about this budding relationship. Their response to me was that I wouldn't have all these problems if I just left this sticky relationship behind. Okay... Um, let me try and explain how much that hurt and how ridiculous it sounds by this example: My best friend in getting married. Not only that but she's also applying to a dozen law schools, moving in with her fiancé, and her cat just died. When she talks about the financial aspects of the wedding or how difficult the planning is going to be over the next 18 months, I sit and sympathize with her. I would never, NEVER tell her that she wouldn't have all these problems if she simply called the wedding off. Because you just don’t do that. No one is supposed to think like that. And no one should ever say that to someone. So why it’s acceptable to say something like that to me, I just don’t know *shrugs*.

So far, the one place that I found to be extremely helpful is Ilada's Polygrrl blog. I look forward to every post she shares about her life with the polyamorous couple Margo and Wayne. She's honest and funny and heartfelt with everything she writes. And it all hits so incredibly close to home, each and every single time:

“I was so upset that he was sleeping and I was standing here wide awake with the whole day in front of me. This was our time. How could he waste it like this? How many Sundays do we get when it is just us and nobody else? I was naked baking cookies in the kitchen on a sunny Sunday morning for god's sake!! When will I be able to pull that off again? Months? Years? And he could have been there with me, but nooooooooooooooo! Instead, he was wasting our precious, precious time snoring away!... To me, every second alone with Wayne is gold. It is something tangible that I can hold. I am ravenous for that time and when I have it I want every single second to be used. But is that realistic? Am I the poor kid who gets handed a twenty and thinks I have to spend it all right here, right now?”

-Ilada, October 2005

I know exactly what she’s talking about. It seems like there are just a few precious moments that I get to spend with my Loved One. When I’m near him, I can’t think straight. I hate to sleep because it’s a waste of time when there are too many other worthwhile things I could be doing instead. When I spend the night at their house, I often have restless and fevered sleep that I suffer through in order to make it to morning. I spend it close to them, yet still far away. The frustration level is always high on those nights. But I suffer through because it seems necessary.

I hate to be another item on my Loved One’s agenda, something else he has to find time for. I don’t like to make demands and I don’t like to be a burden. And I absolutely hate feeling as if anyone has to pencil me in anywhere on their schedule. But sometimes I feel like the poly situation demands that and it causes more trouble than its worth. Another thing that compounds the issue is his illness which (thankfully) has only one major side effect causing him to wear out more easily than the average person. He needs more down time than most people but he doesn’t get nearly enough. And I feel as if I’m asking too much of him and getting in the way when I fret about not having enough time to be near him. He knows his limits but sometimes he compromises them in order to make those around him happy. I try to tell him that I’d be much happier having him around this world longer at the expense of not seeing him as often. At least I know he’s here, even if its not next to me.

“...Culturally, my role in their lives is unacceptable. So, I am sometimes hidden or forced to pretend I am something that I am not. Having to do this underscores the unspoken… When I am placed in that position, I feel a dull ache in the pit of my stomach and it throbs threatening to overtake me. It takes so much to smile and play the family friend. It hurts to see Margo and Wayne hold hands and snuggle and know that I cannot do those things. I have to sit and watch from a bubble that keeps Wayne at a distance. And when it is alone time again and I am allowed to show my affection, it becomes difficult. The bubble that started off thin and fragile hardens and becomes this barrier that has to be broken.”

-Ilada, February 2006

I know that bubble all too well. I read a short story one time about a man who was married to a very beautiful woman but he couldn't get near her because she was frightened and terribly inhibited. When he spoke to his Rabbi about his frustrations, he said that being married to her was like "floating through heaven in a bubble made of hell". That's exactly what this life is like sometimes. I love to be out at their home, with them as much as possible. There is an overabundance of life spilling out all around them every single second of the day. I love the energy and the chaos of it all. I love to experience new things with them. I love just sitting quietly listening to all the sounds that the household makes- dog paws on the linoleum, kids scurrying for juice and snacks, the unmistakable sound of wallball being played in a bedroom, the endless loop of Spongebob SquarePants episodes, the beautiful, albeit sometimes choppy sounds of a piano being practiced, the murmurs of happy cats bounding about, the rustling of quilling paper… there is always something going on and I never feel alone when I’m at their house. Yet, as wonderful as it all is, I can’t fully enjoy it because I feel as if I’m at an unspoken distance. I am the stranger. I am the weekend guest. I am simply The Friend.

I am waiting with bated breath to be accepted into a multitude of roles that I want to fill. In the meantime, I have to hide how I feel. I have to hold my hands in my pockets rather than reach for someone’s warm fingers. I have to be careful about what I say or do in public. I turn my head when he leans in to kiss her because I know I’m not going to get the same. I have to go on with my separate life here and pray that they will remember to share just a few daily moments with me when the weekend comes. It feels like a heartbreaking existence now and then and when these bad days sneak up on me, I feel at a loss as to how to deal. But I keep one foot in front of the other, moving forward, even when it feels like I'm stepping backwards because I can't imagine my life without them. I just can't imagine it any other way.

Untitled

© Punkin Dunkin Productions

I'm Learning to Like Mondays

Well... kinda.

Actually, I've decided to start writing down something good that happens at the beginning of each week as a response to Ghost Dog's new TMG. I understand and empathize with his frustrations of shitty things that happen on Mondays that make the day that much worse. My initial reaction was to join in and bitch along.


But then I wondered, how easy would it be to find something nice about every Monday and would that do anything for my overall attitude? Because it's not hard to turn around in the cubicle and find myself face to face with a nasty coworker or have a customer cuss me out for not giving them 31 days to make their payment and consider it on time or even coming home at the end of a long day to a house full of dirty dishes, laundry, and soap scum, just waiting all night for my Bewitched powers to kick in. All that stuff just happens on a Monday, making it the suckiest sucky day of the week. So if I took just a few minutes and found a happy moment of my day to reflect on, could I turn the negativity of the start of the week around?


It’s worth a shot.


My happy moment was a late lunch consisting of Campbell’s Select Gold Label Butternut Squash soup. It was some damn fine stuff, regardless of what this guy says. Piping hot, it was a creamy, dreamy, affordable lunch that would have only been made better by some Snackwell’s cracked pepper crackers. And while there was that underlying unmistakable icky Campbell’s taste, it was only slightly detectible once the soup cooled down. For a few minutes on Monday afternoon, I forgot that I was stuck in a cheaply constructed cubicle, slaving away in a cheaply constructed office building, taking phone calls from customers that make me wonder how they even manage to get themselves dressed in the morning, waiting for the clock to strike the magical hour when I can rush home to my cheaply constructed apartment and have the convenience that comes from living in the wealthiest, yet most self absorbed country in the world to be able to watch the Oscar’s fashion recap on no less than three separate channels on some severely overpriced cable television. This little bowl of soup was the equivalent of some Calgon and I was happy to have it.

I suppose if I practice this exercise for several more weeks, I will eventually find more things about Monday to cheer about.

Let's hope so...

Queen Pom Pom

© Punkin Dunkin Productions

One Step Closer To Cool

I bought my first crushed velvet blazer today at Goodwill for $2.50. The blazer is an XL with a nice and soft tailored cut around the middle. It goes great with a pair of jeans and spankin' leather boots. The style looks a heck of a lot like this:

I am now that much closer to my version of cool. This is also proof positive that I can never truly be a Buddhist. I'm way too materialistic and conceited to reach enlightenment. Of course if enlightenment doesn't have crushed velvet, why try to attain it?

I'm In Love With You But...

You're not worth $45.00. That's a week and a half of groceries for me. I'll pine away for you, I promise, but this just wasn't meant to be. I hope you understand that you're just way out of my league financially.

Can we be friends though?

As long as being friends means that I never have to see you out on the town, hanging on someone else's body, making me jealous with every soft sway of your delectable fabric and Asian inspired design, willing me to reach out and finger your sash or shed a tear for the low line of your v-neck collar... That way, I'll never know what I'm missing.

Mollie The Collie

© Punkin Dunkin Productions

Sorry about the small size. I'm having computer and program issues at the moment. I need to find a computer somewhere that will let me download Picasa and Hello and allow me to enlarge the size of my photographs. I'm sort of stuck relying on friends' computers and school for now.

In the meantime, you'll have to view the larger size by clicking on the photo.