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I dreamed I insulted Ted Nugent's muffins. He was not pleased and I played it off like a joke. Boy he looks weird in a chef hat.
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When I was a little girl, I used to draw and write stories. I think I wrote my first "real" story when I was about seven years old. I got an idea in my head and persuaded my mother to type while I dictated. It was called "The Bus Driver's Adventures". Looking back on it, it was not very good but then again, I was only seven years old. Then, as now, I had difficulty bringing it to a close. I think I just abandoned the storyline after about four chapters and began other projects. I was very project-oriented as a child, come to think of it... I can recall building Radio Shack kids' science kits (a radio, a generator, an electro-magnet), trying to use all the legoes to make a city, sewing and knitting for my doll-house (more fascinated with the house than actually playing with the dolls themselves). Miniatures especially entranced me. I would spend hours putting things in the dollhouse and then close it up and look through the windows. I was somewhat obsessed with making things "realistic". I collected stuffed animals but I only liked animals that looked "real" - no pink bunnies or blue doggies for me!
But mostly, I made up stories. Once I learned to write, I wrote stories all the time. I tried to draw pictures to go along with my stories but my impatience with my own lack-of-talent and technical ineptness often made me ask my best friend Jill to do the drawings for me (she was extremely gifted).
I wrote a lot of wacky stuff back then, usually because my wackiness was what got the rave reviews. It was easy for me to begin a tale and wind it all over the map of the imagination before bringing it to a bizarre ending. I discovered that bizarre endings were not only popular, they often solved the problem of how to finish off a tale that actually has no moral tale or "message". My protagonists had a habit of turning into other creatures (or other genders!) and flying off to enjoy other (untold) adventures elsewhere. Elsewise, they ended up marrying someone and living "happily ever after"

You see, I grew up with tons of fairy tales told to me all the time. The hidden part of me that was naiive and romantic, clearly showed whenever I told a story. It also showed in my drawings. Psychiatrists and psychologists believe that children tell their innermost feelings through their drawing and imaginative play. If that's so, then apparently I had a secret deep longing to be a princess. Despite my tomboy nature, I obviously coveted long beautiful dresses and waited to someday meet my prince (or princess) who would wisk me away to an imposing castle where we would live happily ever after.
On the other hand, if drawings and imaginative play show what lies deep within the heart of a child, I must have had a serious dichotomy going on. Because the other half of my imagination was one of swashbuckling and heroism. Just as I might tell a tale of a princess who turned into a snake before meeting and marrying her alligator prince who later turns into a princess so they can get married under the lake, I would weave a story of being a pirate who one day decides to go on land and save the hapless old man from the fierce dragon who has put a spell on the old man because he's really a handsome prince in disguise and now they can both jump on the back of a turtle and fly up to the moon to get married and live happily ever after.

I dreamed of being a princess and being saved. I dreamed of being a pirate and saving a princess.

(Good gravy, I've been bi-trans-gender-sexual since I was a child!)

What did you used to imagine?
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kids gone yesterday. [livejournal.com profile] decrepit_doll didn't call me before so okay. Yeah, that kinda brought me down but everyone's telling me "that's probably a good thing..." and I know what they mean. Baph was feeling good. When he asked me about it and I told him, I tried to act casual but he still said "I'm sorry hon..." and you know that actually made me feel better.

We went to the Upstart show. Buncha bands playing but we're there to see Jem.
Jem was great... it was kind of weird because she has such a soft breathy voice and her band was totally tight but after a couple of songs, it sounded damned good. She did a cover of "Master Blaster" by Stevie Wonder and it was really good to hear. They also covered some song by The Stone Roses which was a fabulous end to their set.

Thing was, I started having a neck ache. It ws bugging me and bugging me. After about two hours, it turned into a major pain in the neck. So, okay. We decide to go to the ATM machine so Baph can pay cash for his alcohol. By the time we get to Kroger, I was started to just wish I could lie down. So I lay down in the backseat while he's in the store. By the time he got back, I knew this was serious. I took some Imitrex and sat down in the front seat with his hat covering my eyes.

For the next 45 minutes, I was in hell. Waves, very predictable and familiar waves, hit me over and over again. Even though I was crying and clenching my muscles, a part of me was fascinated by it all. There was the slim poker that would stab me from the base of my skull all the way to the back of my eyeball. Then, there was the icey-cold plates that crept around the sides of my head. There was the lead that was poured straight into my jawbone until it filled up and overflowed into my temples. Then there was the flamethrower that occasionally licked all around my brain. Every now and then I was pretty sure my brain was being squeezed out my chin.

Like I said, it was weirdly fascinating. I got the idea that creatures from another dimension were attempting to gain entry into my skull and thus were trying different methods to crack it open. Of course, it wasn't working so every attempt meant someone else would say "you're doing it wrong, what you need to do is hold the flamethrower like this before you turn it on, here let me show you" then another alien would pipe up with "No, I realy think we just didn't pour enough lead into her jawbone, ya gotta make sure it's loaded up properly" so another one butts in with "aw what do you know? I'm telling you the poker will work! Heat it up and let ME have a try with it!"

I assume that argument was weirdly entertaining to them as well.

After 45 minutes and two tylenol later, my head clears up and I'm sitting with a head full of medication and leftover endorphins. Nice feeling!

I practically floated on air I was feeling so good. That whole "yeah but once the pain's gone see, that's why I do it" kinda made sense to me then. Only kinda. I giggled, I was languid, I ate, I laughed, I laid down on the grass and enjoyed the music. It was grand.
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I'm going to Witchita.... the Salvation Army couldn't hold me back. After all, I'm the owner of a lonely horse.

Save us from the ball and chain, ah yes, the demons and the powerful trains.
I feel you... within my fines, you take me here, you take me there, my kingdom come... this is the mourning of Anna, this is the growing of Anna. ...We're going west, inside of vests, you lead me to oblivion... this is the mourning of Anna, this is the growing of Anna.

When you wish upon a dream, life ain't not but what they say, oh yeah. Wash your seams and lines so clear, in the skies so pearly dear.

What's that? Two felts, gearing closer, gearing closer. Let them bleed me, let them wonder if I lie.

She's so funky, ah. She's so funky, ah. Hands play with lockies, lockies lay with chains. Chains pays with witty and witties hoppy again.

But don't despair... my monkey's down with the sickness.
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DEFINITIONS

responsible person
- a person who makes sure that their promises are kept and their obligations are met even when something gets in the way and situations change

asshole - a person who refuses to allow for the validity of other people's feelings, needs and/or desires despite being made aware of these discrepancies


shallow - a person who values appearance above more philosophical qualities

hypocrite - a person who places expectations and demands upon people that they themselves refuse to meet and justifies this position by argument of exemption ("I'm special so that doesn't apply to ME")

liar - a person who deliberately deceives and misleads people as well as attempting to instill trust under false pretenses

manipulator - a person who uses psychological techniques to get what they want especially using personal information to gain the upper hand against someone in particular
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when you are in a relationship
and you love your woman
but you look at other women (I mean you're not dead)
do you ever think
"I wish my girlfriend looked like that"

cuz I'll tell you secret
women do that all the time.

and most women believe that men do it too.

Men don't seem to be insecure about their looks
...but women are.

So, anytime a man mentions looking/appreciating/lusting another woman, his girl thinks he's really wishing SHE looked the same and she hates that feeling.

...But I wonder if men really do think that way. Because that's not the same way women are thinking about it. Women generally wish their men looked better because of status, not for sexual appeal. Although sexual appeal has its place too, women usually want their men to look their best because they know they are being judged by the appeal of the man they "caught". As men like to have something lusty to look at, women like to have something prized to look at. Neither side can claim the other to be more superficial.

Do guys have any idea how much their women worry about the looks of their men?

"yall don't notice 'hints'"
(until we make it a proclamation in the fucking daily paper)

I quote com0rbid: subtlety works on every man...except the one you're directing it toward.

See, one thing women complain about A LOT is how their men "goes to pot" after a certain amount of time passes in the relationship yet he will still look at booby women and comment thereon.
...and she's thinking "what about YOU jackass?"

Am I just insensitive?
are women just WAAAAY more superficial than we think?

or are men just WAAAAY more sensitive to being criticized for their looks than they pretend to be?

What women, by and large, complain about is a man's looks going downhill because he isn't taking care of himself anymore; he doesn't seem to care.
When men are ogling other women, it's usually a young woman who is simply built in a fashion that the guys' girlfriends could never mirror.
So we feel that we are being compared by using an unfair yardstick but when we compare, we are using the yardstick of the man himself, i.e. what he looks like now, against what he looked like a couple of years ago.
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