I. HATE. Looking at crotch shots.
It's really fucking irritating to be invited to look at a photographer's (and even a model's) portfolio and see shot after shot of furry vagina, spread vagina, vagina from the back, vagina being slathered in champagne, prodded vagina, vagina in a pool, vagina under the table, etc, etc. THIS IS NOT A NEW GODDAMN CONCEPT! IT IS NOT CUTTING EDGE!!! I'm tired of seeing labia, vulva, ass, rectum, actual vaginal canal opening, closeups of boobs, and so on. A TASTEFULLY shot photo of a sensual or intimate scene is fine...but how and why is genitalia considered the must-have "art" in everyone's portfolio?
If I want soft porn, I know where to get it on the internet. If I want to see a vagina, I can look in the mirror.
shot after shot after shot...it's getting old, people.
Can't anyone do something else?
After seeing so much of it in a photographer's portfolio, I don't want to work with him/her. I don't want to spread my legs for a camera, thanks. I know what I look like, I don't need a digital rendering of my genitals.
I'm not a prude, but seriously, I'm sick of this and starting to feel revulsion.
Smoking. Smoking anything.
Photographers taking only photos of 15 year old girls' crotches in thongs.
Getting really drunk several times a week.
My roommate obsessing over her and my clothing matching at burningman.
People who can't park to save their lives/ to save other people grief.
People who drive Hummers and super-lifted-extended-doubleaxled-pimped useless trucks.
Single socks where, previous to the dryer, there was a pair.
XY chromosonal homo sapiens catcalling, whistling at, staring at, and just being thorough dingleberries to me and other women.
The mentally stunted XX chromosonal homo sapiens who actually enjoy/ positively respond to/ encourage above behavior.
And it's past 2 am, and I am tired. Ima sleep now. I wish...well, I know what my wish is right now.
update: Jay moved back to San Fran! (HAPPY HAPPY DANCE!)
I am moving to San Fran in January. (WOOT WOOT!)
I will have awesome flatmates (and a groovy roommate for at least a few months) who will want to go clubbing with me. Excellent.
I will be able to pursue real bellydance training, as well as some other circus/performance arts.
The work I do for money might suck and be tedious, but I will be in SF, with friends, the man I love, culture, opportunities, and whatnot.
I'm just waiting for the days to pass until it gets busy at the restaurant, which will mean money. Also for the days to bring me closer to January, when I will start the year hopefully much better than I did this past year. Ugh, that's not such a great memory.
As a side note: I will have had my red hair for a whole year. I think that's the longest my hair has ever been continuously in the same color--yeah, it varied from box to box, but the gist of it remained the same. I think I will stick with this for a while. (-:
My Dad has suggested I become a flight attendant. True, they make decent money for working half the days of a month, and have benefits. On the other hand, they're in big machines every day, machines which have lots of parts, which can be finicky, which can explode mid-air or fail or whatever. Also, they breathe recycled air, have havoc wreaked on all their bodily systems, live in perpetual time change, deal with the public (and anyone who's flown knows that EVERY flight has at least one asshole), and have to depend on other people doing their job well in order to be safe. Me no likey depending on others for my well-being--it's a trust thing, I suppose. So NO, Dad, just NO. He didn't bring it up because he thought I wasn't ready for a "real job"--I'm just not ready to give up my health, mental and physical--that's all.
Ok, apparently I'm really tired--I usually don't take so long to write nor do I make so many typos for such a short length of writing. I'm going to shower (because that's the only thing that will heat me up at the moment), watch a movie, and eat a particular kind of fudge that I've been saving (thanks Jade!). (-:
What a fucking idiot. This is why I don't like to drive around at night--not because of what I'll do, but because of what other people will do.
In other news, someone tipped me a whole dollar on a $40 bill today. Thanks, asshole. I'll be sure to give you shitty service--instead of the excellent service you received today--next time you come in.
Ok, there were far too many people I care about who were unhappy in a big way today. Seriously, why does teletransportation not exist yet? Actually, there are lots of questions I'd like to ask, though I'm not sure I want the answers I have the feeling I'm going to get. Yes, I will admit it, I am selfish and want the person I love here with me.
And I could simply say the same damn things over and over again but they won't change anything, I'm afraid. The pain I feel from my longing for him is so intense that more often than not I feel physically ill.
But let me think on why he is worth it...that smile, which can be gentle or mischievous, the feel of his freckled skin, the intelligence that is so attuned to my own mind...his scent...a perfect pillow...the wicked wit. Good goddess, I could go on forever were it not for my vision turning blurry from the sentiment of my eyes...
So here I will bid adieu, and acknowledge that "bittersweet" is much more than a taste.
Never mind, then. I can remember every detail of every moment with him (in the real world). That doesn't make the dream any less sweet.
I guess it took a little joggle of my memory to get the details back into view. Good Goddess are they amazing.
"I suppose that is the price of falling in love..."
Ok, my concentration is being sorely tested by my little 2-year old brither Fynn screaming his head off in the background. He's got the leash, the dog's attached to the leash, yet somehow it doesn't fit into his "vision" of what is supposed to be happening. Hence tears and ear-piercing screeches. Holy shitballs.
I'm going to write a little more when I can hear the words in my head.
It's more of an impulse, really, this writing. Random thoughts in my brain, I suppose. Right now I've got a sort of narrative chronicling a recent bout of sex in which I went beyond all past experience. Not in this journal, though...it's snug in my computer. I jut fear I won't finish it before the memory completely slips away...which it's starting to do. I'm holding tightly onto the ones that are still strong--his smile, the crinkle of his eyes when he laughed, the way he kissed me in public. No one has ever shown me that much affection. I'm not sure if he will ever let himself do so again.
***Sigh*** Life is really effing complicated, though it doesn't have to be. I can afford to be selfish, but I don't know if he can. I understand he's given a lot to be in his current situation, but...wouldn't he be happier with me? I NEED him...she's been self-sufficient and has her own bundle of joy to keep her occupied.
Oh, heart. Stop your yearning. Let me have peace. I cannot simply long for him, though I do love him. Gah...I know he must be in a turmoil that is so much more amplified and complicated than my own.
What I want to say is: ________, just come back home and be with me.
"I'm so lonely I don't even want to be with myself anymore..." (Dido)
"We stand alone"...the Covenant
""And I thank you for bringing me here, for showing me home, for singing these tears.." Depeche Mode
""I never meant for this...don't look at me that way, it was an honest mistake...."
"She rules until the end of time"...
" I run, I walk, I lie far from freaks and lying cheats on the tip of my tongue. The Moon hides in the sky turning blue from treetops and I'm wishing I was somewhere out there with the mermaids and stars. I run, I run, I run far from reality to escape who I've become. Inside these tears fall from the trap and I'm getting rather numb from the snakes who have blurred my vision." Rosie Thomas
"This one goes out to the one I love..." REM
These all-consuming emotions are just pointless. It's no use, loving someone so far away who has given his word to be there...meaning that even if he wanted to he couldn'e be here.
Hopefully sleep will not elude me tonight and I can sleep without tears spilling down my cheeks for hours before I finally succumb to exhaustion.
Good god, what good does any of it do? If I can't change any of the situation, what is the point of my heart wanting someone it cannot have?
I miss him as I have missed no one else in my entire life.