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A series of events [Jan. 15th, 2015|12:18 pm]
[Current Mood |aggravatedaggravated]

Many moons ago, my perverted former landlord Terry decided to concoct a lie and tell people that I sucked his dick.
Travis told Steve that I sucked Terry's dick.
Steve and I got drunk one day and he blurted out, "Have you sucked Terry's dick?"
Shocked that such a question would ever be posed to me, I denied the accusation.
Steve said Travis had been the one who told him.
I told Steve that Terry had implied to me that Travis has cheated on Lisa.
To which Steve replied, "Oh, I know for a fact he has."
After which, I forced Travis to confess his transgressions to Lisa.
(This was back when I considered Lisa a friend, and I promised to tell her if he didn't)
Nowadays, Travis is my boss every Saturday night. He deliberately uses his power to fuck me over in subtle ways which go unnoticed by anybody not looking for it, and in ways that, if called out, could be explained away to our boss to make these things appear coincidental and unintentional. And unpunishable. But the truth is I arbitrarily do more busy work and make less money whenever he's running the show.

All because my ex-landlord lied about me sucking his dick.
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The Overactive Tearducts [Sep. 28th, 2013|04:36 am]
[Current Mood |moodymoody]

Was the name of our make believe emo band we joked about in high school. But it is currently the title of the chapter of the biography I am living. Any emotion- good, bad, or otherwise -sends me into a Niagra Falls-like state of being. It's one more reason I hate being pregnant. Annoyed = tears. Angry = tears. Sad = tears. Happy = tears. I used to be so strong and now I have lost all control. I cannot wait for this to be over.
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I Hate Being Pregnant [Sep. 13th, 2013|01:18 pm]
[Current Location |Lynnwood, WA]
[Current Mood |excitedexcited]

And I have found a blog online entitled as such. I started reading it, but then I started to scare myself and decided not to jump the gun on what horrors lay ahead of me :-/

You read it right, ladies and gents: I got knocked up! My boyfriend James and I are having a baby. I am about 7.5 weeks along. Today is actually our first ultrasound, and we're both very excited. I am trying to chug a minimum of 20 ounces of fluid as I type this because evidently my bladder needs to be full.

I feel exhausted all the time, and while I have been fortunate enough to continuously keep my food down, I feel nauseated all the time. Basically I constantly feel hungover without the benefit of having ever been drunk. My boobs have grown, which is a plus, and a pain. James can't get enough of that. He keeps saying, "They're SO big! They're just... sooo BIG!" I'm like, "They're not...THAT... big..." but whatever. I have, however, finally quit smoking. When asked, I always told people "I'll quit when I'm pregnant." And now it's happened as advertised. It has been a lot easier than I thought it would be. While I occasionally still get the urge to smoke, for the most part when James comes inside from a cigarette I think he smells like ass :D

While I am permitted one glass of wine or one beer per day, I tried to drink a glass of riesling a few days ago - didn't get halfway through it before I started feeling sick, so I gave it to my friend Rachel.

Day before yesterday I went and had a boudoir photoshoot done. I always wanted to someday, in anticipation for the time that I would lose my breasts either to breast cancer or by choice via prophylactic surgery. I love my ta tas and wouldn't change them for the world if I had my druthers, so I wanted to at least get some nice professional photos of them before the inevitable. And, then, well, pregnancy... rushed the process as well. I certainly wanted to get some sexy pictures taken before I get fat and my body changes forever. They were quite expensive (I'm on a 9 month payment plan, should be done around the time I give birth) but they are amazing and I'm thinking a once-in-a-lifetime chance so might as well go all out. Worth it. www.boudoirphotographyseattle.com

James wants a boy. Correction, he wants like 6 boys. I think that's a guy thing. I don't much care - but I do think he deserves a girl. After the slutting he's done and the way he has treated so many women in his life, he deserves to have that realization of "omg... all those ratchets were somebody's daughter..." Everyone else in our lives wants a girl. His mom wants a girl, my mom wants a girl, my sister wants a girl... the other day I had a dream that it was a girl and my friend Debbie says dreams don't lie SOooOooOoo... I guess it's a girl! Haha, we shall see.

Technically they say to wait til 3 months before you tell people, because many miscarriages happen in the first 3 months and after that you're considered out of the woods. I intended to keep the secret in as long, but then I had a bachelorette party to attend last weekend and when my alcoholic ass offered to DD my friends/coworkers knew something was up. So I let the cat out of the bag, and am hoping for the best. If I do have a miscarriage, I REALLY don't want to hear about it. All the so sorry for your loss, blah blah blah... it will be fine, it happens, especially the first time a woman is pregnant. My mom did request that I not post it on facebook before she gets a chance to tell her siblings personally, and she still wants to wait the 3 months. So, 5 more weeks to go... I figured though that no one remembers or follows my livejournal, so I'm safe to broadcast here.

My mother's first question when we told my parents was "Are you going to make it legal?" I told here there's nothing ILLEGAL going on here, hehe ;) No, guys, we are not going to rush to the alter just because we're pregnant. My wedding day will be about me. It will be a party. I will be able to drink. We're going to be in each other's lives for a long time now (oh, I don't know, for about forever.) There will be plenty of time to get married.
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At long last [Apr. 9th, 2012|02:55 pm]
[Current Mood |sleepysleepy]

I finally purchased an awesome, sweet, new laptop. That works! Now with the prospect of being able to type while lying in bed, I may actually find time for livejournal again. However, that is all for now. <3
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Making Moments Magical [Jan. 19th, 2012|05:10 am]
[Current Mood |nostalgicnostalgic]

I've got one of those memories locked in, an anecdote if you will, which every time I tell I begin with "I'll never forget this time that..." but I might as well record it now on the off chance that some day I might forget.

First real job I ever had (outside of babysitting/housesitting) was working for Regal Entertainment Group at the Bella Bottega in Redmond. When selling movie tickets, especially on a Friday or Saturday night when the lines of people extend so far that there's a traffic issue, I would get into a machine-like trance while ringing tickets in. Customers didn't have faces, only voices. "2 students for Spiderman." 2 student tickets - "One adult and one child for Finding Nemo." One adult ticket, one child ticket. But if you just said "2 for Shrek" then I rang in 2 adult tickets for Shrek.

Welp, one day, I made just that mistake. A man with his daughter, about 5 or 6 years old, ordered "2 tickets" from me. I made my mindless zombie motions, rang in 2 adults tickets, charged his credit card and sent them on their way. As they walked away from me, and towards the main entrance, I happened to look up and notice the size of the customers I just sold tickets to. Luckily, the entrance closest to my sales window is also closest to the entrance to the box office. I ambushed them as they walked into the main building: "Oh, hey, um, I accidentally rang in two adult tickets for you guys instead of one adult, one child. So if you give me one back, it'll just be a second and I'll refund you the difference." As I darted back into the box office, I noticed father kneeling down beginning with "Did you hear that?"

When I emerged with their refund the little girl, with an ear-to-ear grin, says to me "You thought I was a grown up!"
Me: "Oh, uh..."
Father: "Today is her birthday."
Me: "Ohh! Well, yes! Yes, I sure did. Whew, good thing I figured it out in time, though."

What are the odds that I would accidentally sell a child an adult ticket on her birthday? It's the little things, you know?
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Ain't no sunshine when he's gone [Oct. 10th, 2011|02:13 am]
[Current Mood |melancholymelancholy]
[Current Music |Adele - Someone Like You]

The love of my life is having a baby with his current girlfriend. I don't even know how to feel about this. I know a part of me is devastated. Repeatedly in our history one or both of us would be in a relationship, but they would always, always end and we'd find our ways back to each other. Albeit briefly, because I lived too far from him to consider trying to hold onto him consistently. But then college ended, and I came home. I've been too wrapped up in drama with the guy I thought I might have been able to replace him with to even try to go backwards again. I knew he had a girlfriend, but I had been certain that it would end like all the rest, and some day, some how, we would end up together.

We had a pact to get married in a little less than 5 years from now. It was his idea, in fact, and I was over the moon when he suggested it. (So much so that it got me to use the phrase 'over the moon'). It was one of those, if no one has swooped either one of us up, we should get married when we turn 30. We even hammered out the math to our wedding day being exactly halfway between his 30th birthday and mine; and we both admitted that we could seriously see ourselves going through with it. But, now... there is an overwhelming sense of permanence with this girl.

I can't just turn up out of the blue uninvited. I have to stay away. I have to fight it, even though for me, it isn't over. I can't just throw down some grand romantic gesture because now there's another innocent life involved. Besides, nearly 2 years ago I did try to tell him- I told him how when we would say "I love you" to one another, I really meant "I love you." He didn't receive that very well.

So I suppose that would go to show he never felt as strongly for me as I did for him. But he used to tell me he loved me, we were intimate, he suggested we get married some day... I thought there was something. And my residual feelings for him ruin every other relationship I try to have. I love him. I love him. I love him. And he's starting a lifelong adventure with someone else.
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I found it hard, it's hard to find. Oh well, whatever, nevermind. [Sep. 27th, 2011|03:27 am]
[Current Mood |quixoticquixotic]
[Current Music |Lifehouse - Everything]

I think if I had a working laptop I would post in here more often.

I have a habit. Or at least, a history, of proclaiming my love for another person. Shortly thereafter, the feelings that I perceived as my "in love" feelings dissipate (as in, a month or so). Just last night I ended a relationship with a great guy. He was good to me, he's a great person, and he deserves a great girl. I said, "I love you" first. Although, in my mind, I only said it because I already knew that he loved me - he was just putting it off. It took him a few weeks after I said it for him to admit it out loud. And then the one month timer ticked down.

Next thing, I've wormed myself into an "I love you" - "I love you, too" relationship; while no longer meaning the words I say. A situation I got myself into, because I started it. Maybe I should call Love Line.

I still harbor feelings for my ex, however terribly he treated me. The one I just broke up with had assumed I was over him by now. I don't know. I'd like to be. But I cannot control the way I feel about him. If he would have left me alone and moved on with his life as I told him repeatedly in emails to do, I would be okay. But he owes me 500 dollars still, and insisted that we meet in person before he would pay me back. We met. He kissed me. Even though I'm not trying to get back together with him, it still refreshed all the gaga emotions I had over him. I was more in love with my ex (who lied, cheated, etc.) than I ever was with my current. That is not a person who should be in a relationship.

I don't know if I'll ever get married. I don't know if I'll ever have children. I would like to. And I feel too young to be worrying about such things. But I do feel like I am damaged goods;

I do think I'm awesome. I'm a catch. Yet I'm also damaged goods.
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The story of us feels a lot like a tragedy now [May. 19th, 2011|04:24 am]
[Current Location |Sammamish, WA]
[Current Mood |anxiousanxious]
[Current Music |Taylor Swift - The Story of Us]

I told myself that after I got my breast MRI results, I would quit smoking. Either I would have cancer, and the subsequent medications/treatment would forbid smoking. Or I wouldn't have cancer, and I won't have that looming anxiety in the back of my mind. Well, got the results, and YAY! Negative for cancer :) So, now I need to put serious effort towards not smoking.

At least, I've been telling myself that I'll smoke strictly when drinking. I fear that may turn me into an alcoholic.

I feel I would be a happier person today had I not been brave enough to follow through with a certain impulse a year ago. Love has not been treating me well. I think I need a change of scenery. Things are becoming stagnant dealing cards; it was never meant to turn into a career. I need to get my finances in order, get back to aviation, and gtfo. Just pick up and move to the other side of the country. Or to a new country.

I love the friends I've made, and the one thing holding me back is fear of being without my nearest and dearest. It just feels itchy to stay put. I don't know.

Also, I hate identifying with a Taylor Swift song. But I do. And in my defense, when I first heard it, I thought it was Paramore.
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Don't worry about it [Feb. 6th, 2011|04:48 am]
[Current Location |United States, Redmond, 166th Ave NE, 8851]

No, you'll never have to see me again. I'm out :)
Alright bye

No, dude, I could have fallen in love with that girl last night. You mean no one here got her number?
Nah, man.
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Bash from the Past [Feb. 4th, 2011|05:34 am]
[Current Location |Redmond, WA]
[Current Mood |gloomygloomy]
[Current Music |All My Loving - Jim Sturgess version [courtesy of Pandora]]

Sometimes things happen in life that you choose to ignore or try to forget. I had this one event, typically I'll forget all about it for 2 or 3 years, then something in conversation or day dreaming will trigger the memory. Frequently over the years I've wondered if I imagined the whole thing, but I can't accept that as truth. I'm going to record it here just to get it out.

From kindergarten to about halfway through 2nd grade I attended Wellington Elementary School in Woodinville, WA. For those parents who worked 9-5 jobs and couldn't be with their children promptly after school, a local stay-at-home mom ran a daycare service. Her name was Julie, I'm pretty sure. She had 3 (at least) children of her own that I remember, a daughter older than me, a son Eric in my class, and a daughter younger than me. And she hated me. For those of you who know me, the scar I have on the corner of my right eye was from playing in her youngest daughter's bedroom. We had made a fort out of draping a blanket from the bed to a plastic toy box. We were also jumping on the bed, and I either jumped or stepped too quickly from the bed to the blanketed toy box, slipped, and crashed my face into the corner of the dresser. Actually, the scar on my face is probably what resurrects this memory every few years. But not this time around. About a month ago my "ex" was trying to read my aura, and after moments of silence the first thing he asked me was "did something happen to you as a kid?" For the first time in years, this rushed to the forefront of my brain and has kind of lingered there since. I'm anticipating the return to mental status where I forget this ever happened. But try not to think of elephants and what do you get? Elephants.

I got in trouble a lot at her place. Or rather, I was punished a lot. I don't believe I was a misbehaved child. When the whole group of kids was lectured and put in time out, she would release the rest and keep me in time out longer. I once told her "I'm bored" and this, I suppose, so profoundly offended her that she put me in time out. Understandably, I hated being there. When my mom came to pick me up, she would do the typical mom thing and chat with Julie for like 5 hours before we could go home. During one of her pow-wows I rushed to the car so I could wait in peace for mom to be ready to whisk me to freedom. The passenger door was locked, I ran to the driver's side and pushed the power lock button, shut the door and ran back to the passenger door. Still locked. Fuck. Mom's keys are on the passenger seat. Double fuck. Even after seeing them, I fantasized that perhaps they were a separate set of office keys and maybe, just maybe, mom still had them on her person and ran back to her. We had to wait for dad to get off work and come over before we could leave Julie's.

There was another girl in the neighborhood, Erica. She was actually really sweet. I remember I once had dinner at her place, and her parents taught her not to put her elbows on the dinner table. I was not so strictly confined in my eating habits, and she asked her mom "why does Tanya get to have her elbows on the table and I can't?" to which she replied "Tanya is our guest and we're not her parents, so she can choose where to keep her elbows." I kept them on the table and Erica began to cry. I still kept them on the table. It's one of those things I wish I could redo. There was a good amount of wooded area in this neighborhood, and Erica's dad was building a playhouse for her/her friends/the neighbor kids. For a long time it was only halfway done and we were "not allowed" to go in it, but of course we did.

I don't remember how it got started, but one day I found myself upstairs in this playhouse cornered by Julie's older daughter in the house, and Eric and another boy surrounding the house outside; yelling at each other through windows. Then the boys were in the house, too. Eric pinned me against the wall, holding my hands above my head with his. The daughter, I want to call her Megan but I can't be sure about that one, said aloud "Now... what should we do with her? Torture? ...nah, too bloody." Eric let go of my hands, then took a punch/swipe to/across my belly. I can't remember anymore than that. I can't remember getting out of the playhouse and returning to Julie's house. I remember being in the kitchen of her house, telling her what happened. But of course, it's my word against 3, 2 of whom are her own kin. I remember her response

"If he was holding your hands over your head, how could he have hit you?"
"Well, he let go and then he hit me."
"If that were true then your hands were free and you would have blocked him."

She didn't believe me, probably accused me of making up stories to get attention. So I became convinced that my own parents would never believe me. I didn't try to tell them.

That's it. That's all I can recollect of that day. A partial story at best. But once every several years it plagues me. I don't identify this as "some traumatic event." It doesn't define who I am, I don't tell people I was molested or abused as a kid. Most of the time I forget it ever happened. But when I do think about it, it brings me down.

Once when I was 15 or so I did try to tell my mom what happened. "You remember that lady with the day care in Woodinville? Julie?..." and told her the story. She said, "okay." I said "That's all you have to say?" and she said "Well, what do you expect me to do about it now?" I don't know, mom. I don't know their last name so I haven't tried to search for them on the internet. I possess an old Wellington yearbook if I wanted to see what facebook had to offer. McCormick? Just came to me. Could be it. I don't know what good would come if I found any of that family anyway. I'd probably be hoping to learn some were in jail or heroine addicts, and get disappointed to learn they're famously well-off. I suppose I'd like closure? Admittance over what happened, and to fill in the blanks that my brain erased. Did something actually and truly terrible happen to me that I've sincerely blocked the memory? I have always wanted to be hypnotized, but never succeeded. Could this be the reason? Might I be so desperately trying to protect myself from myself? Or is it simply that so many years have passed, that I was so young at the time, which is the cause of the memory lapse?

I do wish to write here more. Not depressing half-memories, but enjoyable thought-provoking prose. Just needed to get this out my finger tips.
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