Thursday, October 22, 2015

Life, Interrupted

Shit happens.
And I am soooooooo tired of shit happening.

I had a nice blog post ripping the mesh body creators all lined up and ready to go, but fuck it. I'm too tired.

You see, I was supposed to be on vacation this week. Remember, I was going to get my shit together and get back on track?


My beloved papa had a fall on Tuesday and fractured his hip.

He's going to be fine. Had surgery last night, got a few weeks of rehab ahead of him, but he's in good spirits (great, actually, with all the drugs in his system) and will kick rehab's ass to get back on his feet.

But it quite ruined my little vacation.

His care over the past couple of days, once again, fell to me. I am NOT angry with my father for this... no way, no how. I'd have been there for him even if I'd had to hop a flight from Mars to get to him.

My siblings, though... they didn't. And I'm mad about that, and I'm not. Two of my six siblings (that live out of town) took off on their own vacations instead of changing their plans to come be with Dad. One other did take the day off yesterday to drive up and be with us. One brother was out of town for work and came straight to the hospital as soon as his flight landed tonight, relieving me and giving me some much needed time away.
And my sister... oh, holy fuck. She was actually picking him up for lunch when he fell. He was walking out to meet her. She followed the ambulance to the hospital... and stopped on the way for a burger.

She was around a bit yesterday, but left before his surgery started.

Well, we thought she left... she tried to leave... instead we got a text from her 45 minutes later that she couldn't find her car in the parking lot. My brother found her out there having a complete hysterical meltdown.

She hasn't been back to the hospital since.

I guess I don't expect my brothers to have canceled their vacations... but they also knew I was supposed to be on vacation. Why wasn't mine as important as theirs?

And that's what gets me. It's just expected that I'm going to be the one to drop everything.

Because I will. For Dad, I always will.

And though I'm happy that Dad acknowledges that... and tells me regularly that I'm the best of the bunch... it burns my ass that it means he also knows that the others won't do that. I had to send them all a polite reminder today that he has his cell phone and maybe a call or two would be nice.

It's not that they don't love him... they do. They just take it for granted that I'll be there to take care of things.

And that is exhausting. Because while I'm taking care of him, who's taking care of me?

Me, of course. And that's fine. I'm used to it... but, jeez, would a little acknowledgement be too much?

I started to send them all a message yesterday just asking what they'd be doing if I didn't exist. Would Dad just be lying in the hospital in monstrous pain all by himself, or would they then somehow be able to change things up and make arrangements to be there with him?

I don't know because I didn't ask. Because I'm the good kid.

Anyhoo... I'm too tired to make much sense, and certainly too tired to write a meaningful blog post about anything.

In a weird way, though, this has all helped. It's a nice reminder of how strong I really am and how much I can take on my shoulders.

So since I have the night off, I'm just going to lie in this bath, and breathe for a bit. Recharge a little before I go back to the hospital tomorrow.

And pat myself on the back, because I am fabulous.

Monday, October 19, 2015


I had a completely different post written for today, but I'm going to save that for tomorrow.
These sexy as fuck pasties make me happy.
Check back for my rant about mesh bodies creators, clothing designers and developer kits.

Instead, I'm going to devote this post to things that make me happy.

You see, I received one of those random, out-of-the-blue IMs today from a gentleman who had read my last couple of blog posts and decided I needed his wisdom.

This blog is my journal. As I've said before, I use it to help unscramble the mess of thoughts floating around in my head at any given time. And being a mercurial human being, those thoughts change fast and often.

Lately, though, the subjects have swirled around the mess that is my relationship and my unhappiness and anger over the situation.

Firstly, I'm only presenting one tiny part of one side of a very complicated story. Believe me, there are many, many details about what's happening with me and Hugh that I've not shared publicly. And a lot of feelings and emotions I have that I'm sharing only with Hugh.

As for Hugh's side... it's not mine to tell. And I won't. It's no one's business except his, and those he chooses to share it with. I won't betray that trust.

And his side, and my side, are only parts of the whole of what is happening with us.

But anyway, this dude today told me I'm coming across as (paraphrasing here) bitter and angry. He said I talk a lot about things that don't make me happy, but not much about what does make me happy.

So I've spent the better part of today thinking about the things that make me happy. And I didn't write all this out for that guy... I wrote it for myself, and also to all my readers because I don't want anyone to get the wrong impression. I'm not a bitter, miserable person finding fault with everything around me.

I'm just dealing with some shit right now, much as we all deal with shit at different times.

So, anyway... things that make me happy.

Hugh, of course. Even with everything that is happening, he still makes me goofy happy. I like the guy. It's not only our big love affair and all the grandiose emotions that go along with that. I just like him. He's a neat fella and has lots and lots of admirable qualities that I adore. Listing them all would take over this blog. But I like him, I love him, and he makes me happy.

I'm pretty damn happy with myself, too. I like me. I happen to think I'm pretty fucking awesome. That's how I know my depression right now is situational. I'm not hating on myself one bit - I'm hating on some situations I'm involved in that are beyond my control. But me? Hell, I'm fabulous!

I have the world's best dad... he's 86 years (and counting!) worth of spitfire and determination and awesomeness.

I adore my kitties. I have a kick-ass family that has my back no matter what. I've had the same best friend for over a quarter of a century and no one makes me laugh harder than her. And she's there, every single day.

There are the obvious things that make me happy, like having a place to live, clothes to wear, food to eat. A job that I don't hate working with people that I love. Speaking of that, I have this boss who is just incredible. Working for her is the bomb-diggity.

My car is paid for. I have health insurance. I've got a monster of a desktop computer that lets me explore SL with ultra graphics and nearly no lag. I've got an iPad so I can lie on the couch and surf Reddit... or porn. An iPhone for when it's not convenient to use the iPad.

I live in a very safe area where I don't have to worry about forgetting to lock my door for one night. Neighbors that mind their own business. I have like a three minute commute to work - with traffic.

Aside from those things... well, there's chocolate cake. Plain chocolate cake. You just can't beat it. Oh, and chocolate chip cookies. Fuck yes. Mango. Brussels Sprouts and Lima beans. Pretty much any kind of pork, but especially country ham. Cheesecake. Jesus, people, CHEESECAKE.

A baby laughing is pretty damn awesome. The music of the Beatles, and my favorite band, the Fratellis. The existence of the goddess of everything that we all know as Taylor Swift. Christ, I adore her!

The Little Prince, and the Hitchhiker's Trilogy. Sherlock and Dr. Who. NETFLIX. Stephen Hawking and Bill Nye and Neil deGrasse Tyson. I'm big fans of theirs and their joyful exuberance of intelligence and learning. President Obama makes me happy, and watching Bernie Sanders shake up the presidential elections is great fun. I love politics.

A big old thunderstorm, the first flowers of spring. The beach... everything about the ocean makes me happy. Dandelions and daisies and wildflowers. Ladybugs and dragonflies. Lightning bugs in June.

I get super happy when I hear or read about someone doing something nice.

My comfy bed and sliding under the covers with my kitties curled up with me all safe and sound, and knowing there in the middle of the night, that all my loved ones are safe and sound, too. Everyone is asleep and no one is out on the road with drunk drivers, or feeling sick, or lying awake worrying about the world. Being on vacation this week and being able to turn over every morning and shut off the alarm and going back to sleep. Being able to stay up as late as I want.

Orgasms. Orgasms are good. But those orgasms where two souls come together, two souls who really know each other and know just where to touch, and just where to taste, and just how hard to thrust... oh, those make me really, really happy.

All the animals... all of them. But especially goats. Goats are the best animals (other than my kitties). I plan to own a goat farm in my retirement and be surrounded by happy, bouncing goats.

And that's just a really small sampling of things that make me happy. In spite of the situation I'm in with Hugh right now, and it does suck ass, there are a lot of things in this world (and beyond it!) that make me incredibly happy.

And as for that dude that IMed me today? You know, he approached me much in the same way Hugh did nearly two years ago - after reading some of my blog, they both decided to give me some advice.

The difference? The big ass difference? Hugh gave me support... I still remember his first words to me. They were words of encouragement. This guy? His first words to me were that I needed to let go. Knowing very little about me, nearly nothing about my situation other than what I've shared here, he thought it was appropriate to chime in without so much as a hello first to tell me I needed to get over it and move on. And then questioned why I was so angry.

Hugh was a solid rock of support from the moment we first spoke. Through every decision I made, every rock I stumbled over... For good or for bad, Hugh supported me and my decisions, even when he didn't necessarily agree with them. Because he supported me. And still does.

And that makes me happiest of all.

What am I doing?

I've found myself wandering from sim to sim to sim lately... searching.
Mostly sex sims, I'll admit. I'm tarting myself up, parading myself about, hoping to find some sort of connection.

I don't know what I'm doing, or why I'm doing it. Loneliness, I suppose. I'm aching and empty without my partner, my companion.

So I'm trying to find something, anything, to fill that void.
Creamy's Spot
I had sex.

With a stranger.

Don't worry, Hugh knows. I've no idea what he thinks about it because I've not heard from him, but he knows. And that's part of the problem - I've no idea what Hugh thinks about anything.
Hot Wax
The sex was awful. Empty, cold, emotionless. Someone I didn't know, will probably never speak to again, will certainly never fuck again. I wasn't attracted to him, felt nothing for him.

But I fucked him just the same.

I faked it just the same. There was no arousal on my part. I was just typing words in between browsing Facebook and shopping on the Marketplace.
So why did I do it?

I wanted the flirt, the seduction. I wanted so desperately to feel something.

Wanted. Desired. I wanted someone to make the effort to make me feel warmth. Wetness. Not alone.

I still felt alone.
The Bower at Hollowtree
And yet I'm not stopping, even after the miserable experience of sex with someone I care nothing for.

I'm still wandering... from Teqi's, to Creamy's, to Corruption, to Hollowtree and Hot Wax. FMDs. The Fuckery. Naked. The Cyprian Garden. Even the Chamber. And I'm perving profiles and just waiting to be approached. (Am I missing anyplace? Where do people go these days?)

Few approach me.
The Chamber
I'm untouchable, and aching to be touched.

Is that fair? To anyone who might approach me? Who might strike up a conversation, a friendship? Anyone I might fuck?

Because let me be perfectly clear... the moment Hugh is back in my world, if that is ever able to happen, everything and everyone else will be dropped.
The Cyprian Garden
It's him. It's only him, it's always him. I love him. I am his, above and beyond all else, I am his.

And that is who I want to be. With him, joy is boundless, endless. Our bubble, our intimacy... it's perfection. He makes me a better human. The love is tangible and real and extraordinary.

I know I won't feel that with another man. I won't feel anything even close to it. And yet I don't stop. I keep searching even though I know what I want... but can't have.
The Fuckery
Life can be vicious and cruel.

Confusing, cold. Lonely.

When what I want, need, is out there... just beyond my grasp. Beyond my reach.

Is it getting easier? No. The tears aren't flowing anymore... I've cried them all. And what's left is just... emptiness. Anger. Despair.
I'm not an unhappy person. I still smile and laugh. I see the beauty in the sunbeams. Puppy breath. A smile.

But I'm missing the person I share that with.

I miss him.

I miss you, baby.

Saturday, October 17, 2015

Not Broken - Just Bent

So... I've been going through a pretty rough time lately.

If you're a regular reader, you know I struggle with depression. It's mostly almost entirely under control with medication, but lately I've really been having troubles.
There are things happening in my life that I can't control. I know this is mostly situational depression, but it still sucks.

First and foremost, of course, are the issues Hugh and I are dealing with. There is still no solution, no remedy, nothing. And it's wearing on my soul.
God, I miss him. I miss what we had. Just being able to be there for each other... to make each laugh, to love, to comfort. I miss it so much. I miss him so much.
But even beyond that, it just seems there are problems popping up all over the place. We had a health scare with Dad that put him in the hospital for a couple of days, things are rough at work with some people that are causing a lot of negativity, I'm having a bit of money trouble, one of my beloved kitties is really showing her age and declining. My hard drive got fried. My brother's birthday is just around the corner.
And the season is changing from summer to fall and everywhere I look, things are dying. The colors of the falling leaves may be beautiful, but they're still dying. And the air is chilled.

Everything just feels very bleak at the moment.
I've taken some time off work to try to get myself centered again. Just a week, but still... I have 10 days to pull my shit together.

I'm working on it. I'm trying so hard to focus on the good things in my life. And there is plenty. Hugh loves me, even if we can't be together. I have family and friends that aren't going to let me end up on the street. I have a roof over my head, food in my belly, and my sweet old cat isn't in any pain. I love my job and what I do. My father is the healthiest 86 year old around.

My computer is fixed, though it cost an arm and a leg.
And fall leads to winter which leads to spring, and a rebirth. I just have to hang on.

I just have to hang on.

I'll be really honest... I didn't realize I was suffering from a pretty severe bout depression. I knew I was anxious and irritable, but it wasn't until I was lying in bed the other night and realized I was thinking about ways to die that I realized just how deeply in the black hole I was.
But I'm aware now, and that's half the battle. For the most part, I'm feeling okay... it's just when it's late at night and I'm all alone with my thoughts. That's when the monster starts speaking to me, telling me things are hopeless and futile and there's no reason to keep fighting.
But I know the monster is wrong. I'm not broken - just bent. I'm stronger than the monster of depression and I'll come out on top. I'll beat it. I always do.

But the struggle is hard. It's so hard.

Thursday, October 1, 2015

Fuck Guns

I get so god damn mad every time we have another mass shooting here in America.
I've been god damn mad a lot lately. I believe we're up to 294 this year. Two hundred and ninety four.

Two hundred and ninety four fucking mass shootings in one country. In the last 9 months. We're only on day 274 so we're averaging more than one a day.

How fucking god damn ridiculous is that? How very fucking stupid. How insane.

Yes, insane because it's clear we have a problem with lunatics in our country. And I'm not just talking about the lunatics who are the ones pulling the triggers- I'm talking about every fucking slack-jawed, Second Amendment-spouting, gun-owning jackass in this country.

I'm so fucking sick of you people.

Silly me, I thought that just maybe after 20 first graders got blown away just before Christmas in 2012, we'd be able to finally do something about gun control.


And if a bunch of dead children aren't enough to make people think about things a little differently, what can?

Oh, today's not the day to politicize it? Oh fuck you. Yes, it fucking is. The conservative republican party is fucking 50% owned by the NRA (the Koch Brothers own the other half). I know it, you know it, congress knows it and the fucking whack jobs in the NRA certainly know it.

But once again, we won't do a god damn thing about it.

Because you assholes think you have the right to own these fucking pieces of metal and plastic whose sole intent is to bring death. You know what? I don't give one single shit what the constitution says. Morally, ethically, you have no right, and fuck you if you think you do.

Oh, your argument is that if guns are illegal only criminals will have guns? Where the fuck do you think criminals get guns, you jackasses? They break into your house when you aren't home and steal your precious guns and sell them on the streets to other criminal for a bag of crack. So take that stupid ass argument and shove it up your asses.

Guns don't kill, people do? Yeah, well they'd have a lot harder time doing it without the guns. If you're going to come after me with a knife, you're going to have to get close enough to me to stab me. And there's a very good chance I'm going to rip your nuts off first and make you eat them. And the knife. So fuck you with that argument, too.

And yes, we fucking do need to be having a conversation about mental health in this country. So let's have it. I'm all for it. But while we're doing that and figuring out what to do, let's take the fucking guns out of everyone's hands. You can have them back once we have no more insane people in the USA. How about that? Is that a good compromise?

For me it comes down to this: If you live in the United States and you own a gun, and you aren't an active member of the United States Armed Forces or a police officer, you are a piece of shit. You are contributing to the deaths of innocent people. You have blood on your hands, and you are a complete piece of shit.

I don't want to compromise. I'm sick of arguing about it. I want your fucking guns. I want them gone. I want the Second Amendment abolished. I want the NRA to cease existing.

And mostly I just fucking want people to stop getting shot.

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