After a year and a half

That’s fucking right! I HAD SEX!

Oh, sweet hot peppers of the equator! SEX!

The sky is blue, the sounds of birds singing in my backyard is beautiful.

I probably would have posted this sooner, but you know…I was busy having sex over the weekend.

*More to this story to be posted.

But for now I can say I’ve had sex again and it’s better than I remember it being! The best orgasm on record was this weekend. Oh, HOLY SHIT! SHIT! I can’t even begin to explain the mother of all orgasms.



Feeling out of place today

“We’re all searching for something to fill up what I like to call that big, God-shaped hole in our souls. Some people use alcohol, or sex, or their children, or food, or money, or music, or heroin. A lot of people even use the concept of God itself. I could go on and on. I used to know a girl who used shoes. She had over two-hundred pairs. But it’s all the same thing, really. People, for some stupid reason, think they can escape their sorrows.”
Tiffanie DeBartolo, God-Shaped Hole

Today I feel lonely and it comes and goes through a month. Mostly it’s when I have all these places I want to visit and no one to go with. When I desire a workout buddy, or just someone to sit and read with, to discuss a book or a film I’ve just seen.

Feeling lonely like this makes me miss my old home back in the midwest. It was easy to go out. I had a good 30 or more people I could contact or meet up with at the drop of the hatch. Or I could just go to the coffee house and run into someone there and make plans. I don’t know if spending time out there was easier because I was closer to all these people, if it’s because in a more rural town there’s less to do or if people just didn’t make solid plans as often. Whatever the reason it seems everyone is so booked up each weekend or weekday.

Sometimes I feel perfectly at home here, extremely happy I’ve found a place and some days I feel a misplaced tile in the whole mosaic of order out here. In a lot of ways I love home, but I feel out of place here much of the time. I don’t feel needed and without purpose I’m not sure what there is here to grow from.

Then again, maybe it’s me. I’ve grown out of touch with old friends, my hobbies and viewpoints are different and the majority of my friends out here do have a significant other. They have clear-cut plans and life events happening for them. I guess you could coin many of friends out here as “settling down.” Maybe I don’t reach out enough to my friends, tell them what I’m feeling and I rarely talk about my feelings. I use to, but lately I feel so closed off.

Again it comes down to feeling out of place here and I’m not sure what to do. I can only hope I will find (using the most cliche phrase) where I belong.

Past the Time Texting and Talking (Over it)

March has really been a great month. Two of my poems got accepted into two places I was really hoping to get into. I’ll be interviewing for a head coach for speech next month and I’ve just been happy and feeling grateful. I’ve finally started to find the right energy being back home.

Also, a lot has happened ex-wise the past few weeks.

*Side Note: I don’t know why but ex’s always seem to have a way of sneaking back into my life. This is why most of them are blocked on my social media sites and my cell number. I also want to note I hate mentioning my ex so often and it must not be fun for guys who I have seen in the past but I really think ex’s are a large part of who I once was, what got me to where I am now and are a chunk of what I first wrote about. It’s therapeutic for me in a way.

I’ve been having extremely vivid dreams this month. I dreamt about two ex’s and they were very distant in the dream, in the background and Ignored them. In the dreams its like I realized who they really were and how they had once treated me. Which is different, because sometimes my ex’s are in my dreams and we are close, hugging, kissing and smiling. It was a relief to see me finally let go and realize who they were even in my dreams. I finally saw them for the terrible people they were and how badly they treated me. I woke up feeling as though I had let go leftover lingering feelings.

An old Ex text me two weeks ago. Missing me, wanting to chat, see how I was doing. This is an Ex I ended on pretty good terms with. Yes, I was pretty hurt when it didn’t work out and it didn’t work out because he said he wasn’t in a good place and he would drag me down. Ok, every other guy who’s tried to say this, “bullshit” but this guy…it’s 100% true. He was in a dirt shit place in school and life. Bad family problems and I had been doing so well. I really had my shit together my last year of college. (Besides a few moments) But that last spring I was work, work, work and in love with writing poetry , had my head down. Looking back I’m very thankful he was smart enough and mature enough to realize he couldn’t have been the guy I wanted to be with. I’m very thankful he knew being in a relationship would have been more toxic than healthy between us.

But he texted me and it’s hard. I really liked him, it really crushed me when it didn’t work out. I mean I got really drunk the night it all fell apart. I ended up naked in the wrong bed story. Not one of my smart moves in life. With this ex, it was all about timing. Really bad timing and now we live really far away from each other, so nothing would ever happen. So he’s texting me on and off. And at this moment it really bothers me. I don’t like feeling like a part time thing. A fling when he’s bored and nothing else their’s no one else better to talk to. I always feel like second string, the past the time, until they find the one.

I’m sick of being the part-time play thing.

One of my pet peeves is talking and talking to someone and then just dropping the communication. I hate that. It makes you feel like you’re no longer important until they get bored again.

And if they are really done, they don’t want me anymore, not interested, then fine. I’m ok with that.

But don’t come crawling back because you realized you fucked up and missed out on a great woman.

Funny, that seems to happen with a lot of my ex’s…

I’m a full-time woman and a hard worker. I’m over guys coming in and out of my life. Want to have sex with me? Then talk to me for months at a time. Not just when you feel like. Because then my pussy may just not feel like it.

Real communication skills, get some.

Most of the time its hard to really pinpoint when my disability is an obstacle.

It’s only when I catch an obvious mistake in a resume I’m about to send out and then I second guess every other word after that. Is this really how you spell this word? Which then sends me into a puffed up and frustrated person with each misspelled word I type for that day.

That’s when my disability is exhausting.

There is a lack of confidence my disability has cultivated and I haven’t been able to shake it off yet. It’s hard to shake it when you spend most of your energy hiding the fact there is something different about you. How could anyone go into work confident.

How could anyone go into work confident when you’re freaked out someone is going to notice you’re a bit off.


Music for the Month of March

Top 10 For the Month of March

  1. Bottom Of The River by Delta Rae
  2. FourFiveSeconds by Rihanna, Kanye and Paul McCartney
  3. Alone by Trampled by Turtles
  4. Opening by Phillip Glass
  5. Only Love Can Hurt Like This by Paloma Faith
  6. Le Onde by Ludovico Einaudi
  7. Forces of Attraction by Johann Johannsson
  8. O Magnum Mysterium by Morten Lauridsen
  9. We Will All Be Changed by Seryn
  10. Gold Dust by Galentis

I probably get at least four hours of sleep a night now. I can say that I’m out of my writing funk and I think it has to do with my lack of sleep, slowly leaving my job (the one where with my shitty boss) and spending more time with friends. And ok, I’ve been myself off much more this month too…

It’s not like January and February were a complete shit show. I did work my ass off editing a few poems and two of those poems just got accepted. It was another reminder to myself that working through the shitty months pay off. No matter my mood, my attitude I always find the time to write and edit. It’s important to me and I love working on my craft. Actually, I’m a none stop thinker about my writing and I tend to be that kind of personality: A none stop worker when I find something I really love. I was like that in speech and debate and now that’s crossed over into my poetry. Constantly thinking, talking and working.

My best friend is on the night shift, which means I now have a new late night hanging out buddy! Late night movie theater shows, the local coffee house that’s open until 3AM and lots of Netflix. We are also compiling a list of things to do late at night. Which involve, night swimming, open mics, crazy bars, improve shows, etc.

Plus I’m working on my Personal Statement and my friend has taken up cross-stitching, as we talk about are ever impending doom: her likelihood of getting Alzheimer’s and the fact I’m losing my eyesight. We spend numerous nights plotting out a mutual friendship were I’m the memory and she’ll be the eyes someday. Kind of like in the wild with that fish and crab.

I will say I’m my best self on only a few hours of sleep. I do take a few naps from time to time to add a few hours here and there. But one day I only had three hours of sleep and I wrote out a full draft of my personal statement. FINALLY! It only took the lack of sleep to finally pump that draft out. Still needs tweaks before I ask for help because I would like to keep the embarrassment level to a minimum.

But now, it’s time to go sleep for a little bit.



For six years now I’ve been dealing with bad dreams, some so bad they’re more nightmares than just a bad dream. I’ve noticed if someone is sleeping next to me I don’t get any bad dreams. This person sleeping next to me ranges from guys who were practically living with me to my roommates walking into my room, wrapped in a blanket telling me they had a bad day and want a sleeping buddy.

Most of my creepy dreams range from people dying, funerals and creepy creature after people.

The worst of my dreams is the reoccurring image of a shadow figured. The first time I remember seeing this shadow figure I was driving my car and I realized someone was in the back seat and the shadowed figure pulled a knife on me and I woke up.  The shadow figure has shown up in numerous dreams, from solely after me, to shooting down other people.

Last night the shadow figure came back. I was taking picture on my camera and then out of nowhere it was next to me and tried to pull me away. Then I woke up breathing heavy and a bit freaked out.

Luckily, I got back to sleep pretty fast. I was these electric candles so I turned one of those on a timer. A bit of light always helps. Sometimes, when the dream is really bad I have to turn on all my lights, sit up and read a book for a few hours. I also have a dream catcher I hang above my bed, it’s definitely a placebo that’s lost much of sparkle.

My dreams are so vivid and I can remember them so well I sometimes end up looking them up: Dream Dictionary I’m a firm believer that dreams are the subconscious trying to figure stuff out, but of course I’m not sure about these nightmares. Ugh.

Hoping for better dreams tonight!

Got Milk?

One of my best friends from high school who was in choir, speech and soccer with me is a registered nurse now. An extremely talented one I might add. She’s on the night shift for the next five months. It sucks, but I don’t sleep so perfect for hanging out!

We’ve both been busy and I haven’t had much time for stories and I guess I’ve continually left out to her I haven’t had sex in a year and a half. She was shocked to say the least and was worried I had fallen ill by some continue strep throat making me too weak.

I told her about the last time I had sex, my hot mess, waking up naked in his roommate’s bed. One of the many signs I needed to stop going down the path I was on. (Ha! going down pun not intended). I was just really hurt by all these guys and instead of dealing with it I was fucking the problems brains out.

I don’t want to hand out the milk anymore. Because no one seems interested in the cow (yes, I realize I just called myself a cow.) Plus the emotional and trust issues don’t help matters.

I feel like most of my past dating experiences no one wanted to commit, I was a good time. And it did hurt when they left and the next person they were with was worth the label, was the embarrassing and pointless “we’re in a relationship status.” I don’t get any of that anymore and at one point that made me feel really shitty.

So I told my best friend, no…I don’t have sex anymore. I don’t trust anymore and every time I get close to someone they just disappear and I’m tired of adjusting to guys coming in and out of my life. I like being on my own, I’m happy, I’m a hard worker and the last four years of no “‘I’m not in a relationship” on Facebook has helped me figure a lot about myself.

Of course, I still miss having someone around. As much as any of us say how adjusted and happy we are being alone. The opposite is always true. It’s that pull, the back, and forth forces making sure we take a risk now and then.

“I have a history of making decisions very quickly about men. I have always fallen in love fast and without measuring risks. I have a tendency not only to see the best in everyone, but to assume that everyone is emotionally capable of reaching his highest potential. I have fallen in love more times than I care to count with the highest potential of a man, rather than with the man himself, and I have hung on to the relationship for a long time (sometimes far too long) waiting for the man to ascend to his own greatness. Many times in romance I have been a victim of my own optimism.”

― Elizabeth Gilbert