SOULMATE SEARCHING

I'm mostly using this blog as an outlet for my feelings and observations about my life. I don't update regularly, but only when something of interest happens in my life.

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Happy Halloween

Another year come and almost gone. I have a new job as of August 30. Other than that, not much new happening in my life. Sometimes I feel like I'm drowning slowly in quicksand, stuck in this rut of what I call my social life. I have met some new people, and made some new friends, but still nothing that is going to go anywhere romantically.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

2010

Happy 2010!
After last year I'm not expecting too much out of this one. Things with Joe are slowly getting better to an extent. I quit doing most of the house work at Mel's and even quit cooking on nights I know that Joe is going to be eating with us. I eat lunch at my house Monday through Thursday and only go to Mel's house if Mel is home or I have the kids for a bit. Mel has like 12 weeks left of this pregnancy and it is thankfully her last one. Joe has started to help out more around the house so far this year, we'll see how long it lasts. Nothing new to report in my life at this point. Can't even remember when I was Justin and Jana last, or Kyle and Hazel. Thanksgiving, before or after, is my closest guess.
I really hate that my life has become so boring. I hardly ever see or go out with anyone besides Mel.
Maybe things will get more interesting this summer. Just have to wait and see.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Damn it

*I just realized that this has been building since about February*
Ok, so here's what has been happening lately. I've been feeling more and more depressed and I've figured out that it's because it seems like my friendship with my best friend has changed to the role of daycare provider. I don't get invited to go places with them, instead I get asked to watch the kids for a while. As if I don't spend enough time with their kids! I am seeing that I am stuck in a rut, I work for eight hours, I pick up the kids from daycare, take them home, cook everyone supper (about half the time), pick up the mess, put the kids to bed, then go home and sleep, just to start it all over again! On any given day I spend from 5 to 8 hours with the kids with little or no adult company.
I'm tired of trying to be friends with my best friends husband. Everything he does just pisses me off. An example, last Saturday he joined us (me, BF and baby) in hitting some garage sales before he had to go to work (optional overtime), when he got home, my BF decided that we would drive to the lake and have dinner with her mom. Instead of going with us (we were only gone from 5-7) he decided that he was going to a friends to drink, plans that had apparently been made earlier in the week. It bugged the hell out of me that he would rather spend time drinking with his friend than have dinner with his family, even though we were all going to this friends house after dinner.
This is just one example. I'm getting fed up with feeling like I'm being used and not appreciated for all that I do in their lives. I mean, I do the dishes, cooking, laundry and cleaning, plus watch the kids. A little effort on his part, especially since he's home all day till 3 or 3:30pm, would probably go a long way. Hopefully things will get a bit better now that the older kids are in school, but they weren't very helpful all summer either.
Apparently all the thanks and gratitude I get from my BF is not enough when I'm doing stuff for everyone else too. I feel worn out and abused.
And yet again this weekend, I've been asked to watch the kids so that he can re-build the back deck while my BF is working. I'm thinking another 8 hours of babysitting! Not only that, but his mom and dad will be there most the day too. It's practically impossible to keep the 3 year old away from grandpa when he's at the house!
And I understand that it's hard to have a relationship when she works days and he works nights, and that they like to go out together once in a while, but Thursday night till midnight or 2am is really not acceptable when I have to work on Friday morning and they do not. And I don't really mind staying till midnight when my BF i working overnight and he gets off at midnight, as that only happens once in a while, like once or twice a month. It's just when I do all this and then am expected to have the kids on the weekend so that he can do things on his days off like ride his Harley or go see friends or whatever it is that he does. I would like to do those things too! I take his kids to the stores with me if I need to go get something, but if he needs to run an errand, he calls or asks me if I'll watch the kids for a bit. Sure , there are a few times when they want to go out and I would rather stay home, but that doesn't mean I really want to sit with the kids. I'd much rather go to bed. Especially when the kids have stayed up till ungodly hours the night before, then slept most of the day and will not go to bed, but instead give me grief about it.
My BF does understand that I need a break once in a while, but those are few and far between. Then she talks to me about thinking about a divorce and me moving in with her and kids to help out. I'm thinking I'd rather get hit by a meteor. It's tough enough living just across the street from them.
I am at a breaking point. I have already ripped his ass for the kids not sleeping, and I'm about ready to tell him to call of his friends to watch the kids when he wants to go do something. He really needs to figure this out. Either I'm his friend too, or stop relying on me and using me. We used to go do things together; golfing, fishing, pool, drinks, and what not, but we haven't spent hardly more than an hour together in I don't know how long.
Anyway, that's my pity party and feel sorry for me rant.

Wednesday, July 08, 2009

looking for

someone whose existence alone is excuse enough to justify the creation of the entire world.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Another one

I had another "death Dream" last night, but this time I barely remember having it. Hopefully that's a good thing and nothing will happen, but we'll have to wait and see. At least I didn't wake up sobbing this time. However, I do remember being adamantly against this death in the dream.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Memorial Day

Woke up at 6 am on Monday sobbing uncontrollably from a dream I had but haven't had time to post. It was another "death dream" in which I watched my Grandpa dieing. I have it written down in my laptop, just not posted here yet. Anyways, following the trend of these "death dreams", I have been waiting and preparing myself for bad news, which I got today. My friend and co-worker, our accountant, died this morning from complications of an appendectomy. He was 59.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Best of Craigs List



An open letter to straight people I meet at straight bars.

I am not a celebrity, a landmark, nor an abnormally large fish. I am a man. Please don't take souvenir snapshots of your husband with his arm around me batting his eyelashes like a silent-screen actress. It's offensive. And I'm not photogenic.

I am not bisexual. Please don't assume that your kink is my kink. Great. Your husband likes guys on occasion. And you like watching your husband liking guys on occasion. If I wanted some hoo-hoo, though, I'd cut out the middle man and go straight for the snatch. And, BTW, if I were into cooch, what, in God's name, makes you think that I'd be attracted to you anyway? There's a reason why your husband likes the occasional cock.

I am not mentally ill (at least not in terms of my homosexuality). Nor am I a shrink. "Why do you think gay men have an abnormally close relationship with their mothers?" I don't know. I talk to my dad more often than my mom. Why don't you ask your mom? You live with her.

I am not a drag queen. "Why do guys want to dress up like girls?" I am asked. I don't know. Why does Toby Keith dress like Yosemite Sam? Drag is drag. Gay is gay. Sometimes the twain meet.

I am not a transexual. I do not know why some men/women choose to lose/gain sexual organs and identities. For the most part, I like my dick and my gender: so much so, enjoy sleeping with men with dicks. I can, however, refer you to the Internet for further reading/viewing.

I am not a pedophile. When, out of common courtesy, I ask about your son, please don't reply: "He's straight." That's like someone asking me how my grandmother is doing and replying: "Well, her twat might be a little dry, so I highly recommend lube." Besides, do you really think that if I were interested in your 16-year-old son, I would be asking YOU about him? "So, what's he look like in the shower? Bet those pubes are coming in real nice. You really should hook us up."

I am not a gloryhole. Just because you have a 9-inch cock, doesn't mean I want your dick in my hole. I wouldn't want it in me if you were gay; what makes you think I'd want it in me if you are straight? While I must confess to falling prey to the allure of a cute, straight daddy from time to time, being straight does not automatically make you appealing. Nor does my being gay automatically make me the bottom. Ask your buddy, Mike.

I am not your Scout buddy. Whatever you and your pubescent friends experimented with when you were 13 is between the two or three of you. Please don't try reliving it with an adult gay man. I don't want to go camping with you (while your wife is visiting friends in Portland); I don't want to come over and play (Wii, Nintendo, whatever) while she is at work; I don't want you to jerk me off in the bathroom (we might lose the pool table; and, besides, I can jerk myself off, thanks); and I don't want you to come over to watch the game, get so drunk that you pretend to pass out, then (while I'm in the bathroom) slip in some porn. You wanna fuck? Be a man. Ask. If I'm into you, rock and roll.

Nor am I your ego booster. Bend over. Whip it out. Drop to your knees. Whatever. But STOP flirting! Jesus. If you are straight, then go, boy, go. If you just want to play with another guy for the night, again, ask me and we'll see. I agree. Those hot little girls are idiots for not sleeping with you. Yes, you are good looking. Yes, you do have a great ass. Yes, you are smarter and more interesting than your average Joe. But for fuck's sake, stop teasing me. Don't stand behind me rubbing your cock up against me while I'm shooting pool ("I'm just fucking with you, dude"). Don't pinch my ass while I'm trying to break. Don't use your pool cue to scratch your balls. Otherwise, don't be surprised one night when I appear from your backseat, pull you back there with me, and grudge fuck the shit out of your straight ass. Walking home? Watch the alleys.

I am not omnipresent. No. I do not know your 70-year-old gay uncle from Hot Springs, Arkansas. No. I never met Liberace. Yes, I did go to a George Michael concert once. No, I do not know if he's a good kisser, I sat in the balcony.

I am not a fashion designer. But, yes, your ass does look fat in those jeans.

I am not into Appletinis. I like Bourbon. Straight.

I am not butch. Telling someone that they don't "act gay" is not a compliment, folks. Being "butch" is not a noble attribute. Nor is femininity a negative attribute. How would you like it if I came up to your husband and said: "Wow! You don't act straight. Are you sure you don't like cock? You just don't seem like the pussy-eating kind of guy."

I am not handicapped. The reason I play shitty pool is because I just started playing the game 6 months ago, not because I'm gay. But, guys, when I do beat you, please don't get pissed off and start making excuses. It's OK to get beat by a Mo. It's not as bad as getting beat by a chick.

I am not a urinal hound. Guys, you don't have to go in the stall to piss, you can use one of the 4 or 5 open urinals next to me. I go in the restroom to relieve me bladder, not to sneak a peak at your package. And, too, you don't have to publicly exhibit your masculinity by slamming your fist on the (door, paper dispenser, toilet handle, wall, etc.) after you pee. I got it. You are straight. Might as well beat your chest and leave the poor facilities alone. They didn't challenge your sexuality.

In summary: I'm a decent guy. Hi.