tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-323646602024-03-14T00:55:09.703-04:00The Inch of DifferenceThe inch of difference between gilded chamber and padded cell. Or the ramblings of a mad woman who keeps losing everything but her reason.Jezcabellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01260863783484348959noreply@blogger.comBlogger760125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32364660.post-39529658332496810722013-03-18T22:43:00.002-04:002013-03-18T22:43:52.302-04:00The story of my life?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"I swore never to be silent whenever and wherever human beings endure
suffering and humiliation. We must always take sides. Neutrality helps
the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never
the tormented." ~ Elie Wiesel<br />
<br />
I cause all kinds of problems, all the time. No joke. I open my mouth & I expect others to do the same. I require it. To be less is to roll over for the abusers, an unwillingness to fight, to stand for yourself or others. Fuck that. I don't need that. Peddle it elsewhere. Jezcabellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01260863783484348959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32364660.post-48762435220324084812013-01-16T22:47:00.000-05:002013-03-18T22:48:00.729-04:00Epiphany of the day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I went in to work today - still at one of the greatest places on Earth. I spent part of my early morning talking about it & our industry in general with one of my oldest and dearest friends who was also recently hired in. While he was sitting with me at my desk I introduced him to my coworkers - informing them of how we knew eachother, that he is new, where he is working in the company after training, etc... I love this guy & he is brilliant & amazing. I want him to succeed, I want him to have familiar faces & even though not everyone will remember him after such a brief introduction - you and I both know that it banks until later. He won't remember everything about everyone either but again, it banks in the memory. For all the modernness of our lives the company is by & large a Knowaguy network. Things get done & get going & ideas take off because someone knows a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy & people talk & make stuff happen.<br />
<br />
I realized today that my behavior is pretty much the exact opposite of the behavior of 3 people I was friends with when I started. I have many other friends at the company and they tapped me in to the Knowaguy network but those 3 that I was "closest" to at the time made zero effort to do so. The stark contrast is shocking. I hope my efforts make my friend's transition into the company and path to prosperity easier than my own. Jezcabellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01260863783484348959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32364660.post-71723635884164468662013-01-04T23:36:00.000-05:002013-01-17T01:58:39.286-05:002012→2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It took about 8 months for all of the cowards and victims to be removed from my life last year. I'm pretty sure that I am currently clean. I hardly noted their passing. It feels so good to no longer have a cadre of self-hating synchophants badgering me constantly for my attention, enthusiasm, love, and pitching butthurt fits when I failed to notice or care about their demands. I feel a drive to develop a Gom Jabbar of sorts for new people I meet - but mostly I've learned to watch more carefully the interactions of people with the perceived power around them.<br />
<br />
I spent NYE in Berkeley with Kelly & Woody - as we counted back through the funerals, births, false starts, failures, and triumphs of the past year it felt like home. <br />
<br />
I'm not sure what is left to be resolved this year. I've managed to remain myself paddling through the hot molten crazy around me this year. Work is wonderful, my living situation is amazing, my health is stellar, and my relationships are pretty phenomenal. One possible area is to purposefully be more aware of allowing anyone in my life who use me as their "Slappy Dappy". <br />
<br />
<br />Jezcabellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01260863783484348959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32364660.post-18616937855315204102012-10-04T22:26:00.000-04:002013-01-12T12:35:18.849-05:00Traipsing barefoot across the coals...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The first thing I notice are the jokes. After the event is over and they've chosen not to attend, not to risk the walk, not to risk the fire, not to risk anything. The twittering jokes, "careful where you step", "How's that pedicure?", "heeheehee...". I smile, take the prodding, fighting the urge to just walk away. I know that the joking is the curiosity, the first steps of the wanting to understand, the desire for more information.<br />
<br />
I'm not feeling like a teacher these days. I am, in fact, actively against offering anything that I have or that I possess to anyone in the world. With the exception of paid services. I'm still a healer for hire, I'm still more interested in healing loved ones than getting paid for it. I'm also not interested in growing that list of loved ones. I'm not interested in offering anything to anyone which might give them a reason to falsify emotions for me. I'm done being lied to for the things that my friendship offers. Until I am satisfied I am offering nothing. My friendship is worth nothing. No insights, no drama, no trust, no invites, no introductions, no home, no safe warm place in the shelter of my will. Jezcabellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01260863783484348959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32364660.post-5409402857636609782012-10-02T20:13:00.001-04:002012-10-02T20:13:38.259-04:00So muchhas changed, yet nothing at all. <br />
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<br />
I'm living in new digs. Still gently paddling my kayak through the hot molten crazy. Obi's breast cancer has finally, officially metastasized into her lungs - we're back to counting days. Physically there is 10% less of me than a year ago at this time. My family is thriving, my employment is still pretty freakin great & only getting better, I'm still mixin some of the tastiest cocktails on the planet, and my bed is the softest place ever. <br />
<br />
I'm finally slowing down enough to write again. Tonight I came home, swam laps for an hour, floated in meditation for 20 mins, enjoyed a salad of fresh greens w/ balsamic over caramelized onion & blue cheese focaccia bread, and now I'm finishing this to go back to wire work & new tv shows. Jezcabellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01260863783484348959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32364660.post-36443069081657940392012-06-07T20:51:00.001-04:002012-06-07T20:51:50.768-04:00sung to the tune of My Buddy...My Hernia, My Hernia, My Hernia and me...<br />
<br />
Can I just tell you how much I hate my hernia. No Nexium for over 3 weeks. the Omeprazole OTC is not so much the best, even supplemented with other antacids as needed. I have been puking every night this week regardless of how recently before bed I ate. I go to sleep, I wake up and hear the voice telling me to "Run!" So I run. Eventually I get cleaned up & back to sleep. <br />
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I'm just exhausted.Jezcabellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01260863783484348959noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32364660.post-47418272592165348352012-06-06T00:01:00.000-04:002012-06-06T00:01:05.699-04:00Untouched<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I remain untouched. I am untouched. <br />
Inside, emotionally, where it counts.<br />
I know a secret, your secret, everyone's secret.<br />
You really don't care, not really...<br />
I'm not upset by this<br />
It doesn't touch me<br />
I am a thing that exists in your world until you throw me away.<br />
until you have used me for whatever you hoped to gain <br />
A passing moment caught in its own death throes, too busy in your head to notice<br />
I'm not really there with you<br />
I'm untouched by you, on the inside<br />
<br />
I lie awake at night thinking of you<br />
not YOU, the being inside the body<br />
but you, the relationship slot you are filling in my life right now<br />
You to whom I say "I love you"<br />
I mean it, just not nearly as deeply as you think, as you want to believe<br />
<br />
You have been here, in my life, for a year or two, for months, weeks, days, hours<br />
You aren't real to me yet<br />
You'll tire and move on before that<br />
I've been here for decades<br />
I've slept more nights of my life atop graves than in a bed with you<br />
I find more comfort in the dirt than in your arms<br />
<br />
I am not numb, I feel<br />
Just not where you can touch me<br />
I remain untouched. I am untouched. Jezcabellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01260863783484348959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32364660.post-12917200323407325662012-06-03T23:15:00.001-04:002012-06-03T23:15:34.243-04:00TonightI've been alone most of the weekend, blessed alone. A weekend of meditation, fasting, spellwork, and prayers. So much healing in this space insulated from so much. Tonight my housemates are home, I'm curled up watching summer premiers. <br />
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I am so happy right this moment. Relaxed, breathing, cuddlesharks curled around me, cold breezes through the windows, alarm set. This is just a really peaceful happy night. <br />
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My petri dish feels full for the first time in a long time. My altar is clean & the scent of Dragon's Blood and Frankincense is drifting about. Jezcabellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01260863783484348959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32364660.post-42221375552835138502012-05-21T18:28:00.000-04:002012-05-21T18:28:08.705-04:00Demon, I name thee Guilt.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have a problem, I know things, I find out things, and when I do - I need to do something about them. I cannot ignore them, I am compelled by an internal force to react to information. I speak, I warn people, loved ones about dangers, about dangerous people, about everything I can to protect them. To just give information, lots of information, all the information that I have in the hopes that they can make a decision on their own. In the hopes that the responsibility I feel because of the knowledge I possess will be alleviated, that somehow by telling I am no longer responsible for people getting hurt because I knew they were getting involved with someone who is dangerous. It doesn't work, I still feel guilty, I still feel like I could have said or done something, that I could have stopped people from getting hurt.<br />
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In my brain, my rational self knows better. I know that I am not responsible for choices others make.<br />
<br />
The basis of my guilt is not the incident at hand, it never is, the guilt is always there, just below the surface, waiting. <br />
<br />
So let me tell you why, why I feel compelled to "air dirty laundry in public", to "name names", to publicly avoid interacting with certain people and why I avoid giving money, time, and attendance to events that I know are run by sexual predators, to distance myself and those I love from people I have found to be dangerous - regardless of the reason, the explanation for the dangerous behavior - be it drugs, lack of meds, psychotic breaks, even simple they "were at a bad place in their lives". Through intentional choices of behavior they have injured others or myself in ways that I find to be completely against my core values. Not everyone shares the same values and standards that I do. I know that - but I have mine and I use them and they serve me well. Someday I might even get around to writing them all out.<br />
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Back to the story at hand: A long time ago (over 15 years ago) in a world far far away (nowhere near herehere), when I was young, I was raped. This is not new news, the details can be found by talking to me directly or of course if you were in my life at the time, you know this already. I was raped, by a friend, an ex-lover, the details of which are not so important. I survived with a little help from my friends. I thrived with a little help from my family. I did not pursue him, not legally, I mandated that my friends could not harm him, I chose that. I chose it because I could not handle the dissonance between what he was and who he had become. <br />
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I am responsible for there being no legal record of the rape. I am responsible for choosing to allow him to live as a fully functioning man after the rape. I chose that path.<br />
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Years later (around 5 or so) things happened, and entire series of events that some of you know & some of you may have to inquire about if you feel the need to know. I found out that my rapist was on his way back to me, he knew where I was working, where I was living, he had a plan to get to me. I found out that he had raped several other women in the interim years. They looked like me, I've seen the pictures. They looked just like me. They were scattered all over the country, he was wanted in several states for these alleged crimes.<br />
<br />
Upon finding this out I realized that I was responsible for their pain, I was the reason he was able to continue on his path. I sat with that for many years, processing, the differentials between my path and the path I had allowed him to take. I was on me, all on me.<br />
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It took those years for me to accept & deal with the fact that his path was his own. I made choices that altered it but I am not responsible for his choice to walk it. <br />
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I am not responsible for his other victims' pain, their lives, I know this.<br />
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But from that point forward in my life, I don't keep silent well, I don't easily keep quiet about things I feel are dangerous. And with that we have reached full circle. This is the story of why I am this way that I am.Jezcabellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01260863783484348959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32364660.post-48588964327278668942012-05-19T16:21:00.001-04:002012-05-19T16:21:08.803-04:00Nothing quite like it<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTa7NHhx_KC7fKA67-O1hhmIFT3ms5v4-kblhstSIIryL5KCh6B39PKmsTYTM8zXrJnrEZJeT2j1wn3edYbGUrZefOePpBDcehLjQ0aluYtT-unZg_muRNd23x6Y-JmvMMsqm9FA/s1600/2976988_4c23_625x1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTa7NHhx_KC7fKA67-O1hhmIFT3ms5v4-kblhstSIIryL5KCh6B39PKmsTYTM8zXrJnrEZJeT2j1wn3edYbGUrZefOePpBDcehLjQ0aluYtT-unZg_muRNd23x6Y-JmvMMsqm9FA/s320/2976988_4c23_625x1000.jpg" width="279" /></a></div>
There is nothing on Earth like pulling the gag out to make one fall in love with one's own voice. In the next week more posts will be appearing filling in the interim spaces. In a few hours I will be officially free and under zero obligation to hold my tongue. A great culling of the herd is due. I am happy.Jezcabellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01260863783484348959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32364660.post-79766687574029216092012-02-06T14:47:00.005-05:002012-02-06T19:13:47.408-05:00I really don't know...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrXfU7C_wCg2fRMaIfgnUQTvW5V2WYEeQUQlkKugESTXZUO2HlqA6gy735NFhmFjD6MjsiUqlN0wj0XUjurR8BuSw6MrAIkM_SMisMa8qKvixngHqHnL6qoc0ztXLIXPC6XALq1g/s1600/6170524290_742661d455_b.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 278px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrXfU7C_wCg2fRMaIfgnUQTvW5V2WYEeQUQlkKugESTXZUO2HlqA6gy735NFhmFjD6MjsiUqlN0wj0XUjurR8BuSw6MrAIkM_SMisMa8qKvixngHqHnL6qoc0ztXLIXPC6XALq1g/s400/6170524290_742661d455_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706120969278884354" /></a><br />I woke up today to the alarm. <div>Many many alarms, because I kept hitting snooze. </div><div>Finally my phone rang. </div><div>My mother. </div><div>Mom does not call me at o'dark thirty unless something is wrong. </div><div><br /></div><div>My cousin is dead. </div><div><br /></div><div>Josh committed suicide the night before. </div><div>I have hardly begun to process. This was unexpected, this was not predicted, this was not in the forseeable future. </div><div>It took until I was driving to work for me to even start asking questions. To ask "Was there a note?", "How did he do it?", "Who found him?", "How are his parents?", and "What is going to happen with the body?"</div><div>Josh was my older cousin on my mother's side. 3 years older. On my father's side there are a ton of cousins ranging from over 20 years older than me to 5 years younger. On my mother's side it is far less: 1 older cousin, Josh; 1 step-cousin, right about my age; 2 younger cousins the youngest 13 years younger. </div><div>I feel kinda lost right now. I keep gently weeping, haven't reached the full sobbing that is coming. I know there is not going to be a mass or big todo, if anything is done it will be done in Florida where he & his parents have been living. I also don't really know how to go about getting a handle on this right now. </div><div><br /></div><div>I want to drink until it stops hurting for a minute, play some NWA or EazyE until the neighbors complain, then switch to Motorhead, Slayer, and Black Sabbath until my ears bleed and I can't scream anymore. I want to be driven to my favorite cemetery and weep on my favorite grave until I fall asleep to the Metallica playing in my headphones. </div><div><br /></div><div>I want this not to be happening.</div><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZL0Szdek4vwVahnrsEkmN7-VPJdlc1w4u8geiRjLSK_BPOkNplHyybVVCCmpusweqy2G3GFKYYP4hii9KpBz-lUIarXQyTA_Sr8B5u3goCy14A_KzbwLnHH7bKkPAKyyLUqYWZw/s1600/4944076227_c16cff864f_b.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 292px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZL0Szdek4vwVahnrsEkmN7-VPJdlc1w4u8geiRjLSK_BPOkNplHyybVVCCmpusweqy2G3GFKYYP4hii9KpBz-lUIarXQyTA_Sr8B5u3goCy14A_KzbwLnHH7bKkPAKyyLUqYWZw/s400/4944076227_c16cff864f_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706120969079298162" /></a>Jezcabellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01260863783484348959noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32364660.post-70529589475844307112012-01-16T19:43:00.002-05:002012-01-16T19:48:34.671-05:00The highest compliment I have ever been paid<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNxu8eZczaRGFAimo2mVOTKBQZYmilTQnESW74WuQd1CElBl5HikbHmNFF4WTfqxBVexbO4rnOQF2Q5GArsZwXm8iIRH-v6k7pFxCXZYq3TUKrkRauCDApStYEL507Ia5xa4tLhQ/s1600/6051026078_b166fd4222_b.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNxu8eZczaRGFAimo2mVOTKBQZYmilTQnESW74WuQd1CElBl5HikbHmNFF4WTfqxBVexbO4rnOQF2Q5GArsZwXm8iIRH-v6k7pFxCXZYq3TUKrkRauCDApStYEL507Ia5xa4tLhQ/s400/6051026078_b166fd4222_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698396293898056018" /></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#222222;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" white-space: nowrap;font-size:13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); white-space: normal; border-collapse: collapse; font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">You are wonderful.<br />You are brilliant.<br />You are strong.<br /><br />You know your truth.<br />You know your experiences.<br />You know your own mind.<br /><br />Yes, there are people who feel intimidated by you, but that's their problem. You raise the bar. You are making and doing. You are moving forward. You ask questions. You expect real answers.<br />Small, weak, and petty people are threatened by this. They are threatened by people who are making something of their life, instead of playing in elaborate dramas.<br />Reality is scary as hell. You acknowledge and embrace that while others create masks and lies to pretend it's something else.<br /><br />You can look at your own scars and flaws with honest eyes, which makes you braver than most. You are real, not perfect, not a false pretense, and that adds to your beauty. You the mountains, not a statue. You are alive and changing, not fixed and calculated. No artifice, no imitations, no plaster facades, you will endure.<br /><br />You are loved.<br />You are valued.<br />You are cherished.</span><br /></span></span></span>Jezcabellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01260863783484348959noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32364660.post-44669739156771371262012-01-14T21:20:00.000-05:002012-05-21T19:24:40.733-04:00Drama-Mongers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg65F3Mi5CaE4_l16mPYSgaGBPekE9XPSdqtl29t4Bh7eVBix0H-8UVOz6BvkRkrAfR4LKTLOG-gzfxkuJbydJ1a0xiyVMq2Y9FQLD6F2_cWMCXcmlcmkqVPsqNweo1JQ5foIJqPA/s1600/4925424603_3774be8261_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg65F3Mi5CaE4_l16mPYSgaGBPekE9XPSdqtl29t4Bh7eVBix0H-8UVOz6BvkRkrAfR4LKTLOG-gzfxkuJbydJ1a0xiyVMq2Y9FQLD6F2_cWMCXcmlcmkqVPsqNweo1JQ5foIJqPA/s320/4925424603_3774be8261_b.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<b>Drama</b> is the unnecessary creation, prolongation, and/or spreading of conflict and strife.<br />
<b>Monger</b> is a dealer in a specific commodity promoting something undesirable or discreditable.<br />
<br />
<b>Drama-Mongers</b> - people who deal in the unnecessary creation, prolongation, and/or spreading of conflict and strife.<br />
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This past year I have found myself surrounded by people like this. People who delight in the pain others are feeling, perhaps an overdeveloped sense of schadenfreude. I reserve the schadenfreude for people I actively dislike, or people I actively don't care about. Drama-Mongers apply this to people they call friends. Laughing with delight every time they find out someone is hurting. They have looked me in the eye and asked again and again about dramas going on in the community. It took a while to realize that they weren't asking to help people, to get involved, to make things better, because they cared about people who were hurting. They only asked because they want to be the center of attention the center of their own private dramamills, to peddle their newfound knowledge to others. <br />
<br />
This is not to mistake them for people actively seeking to manipulate me. There has been plenty of those. From people stepping in between my ex-partner and I to forward their own agendas, to people using friendship of many years to get me to believe the lies they tell me even as they contradict themselves when they think I am not in the room. <br />
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<span class="illustration"></span><br />Jezcabellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01260863783484348959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32364660.post-77944746049783110402012-01-03T20:02:00.004-05:002012-01-03T21:15:43.252-05:002012 Resolutions.I have decided to look more carefully at the people I invite into my life for 2012. The following are no longer welcome. I deeply regret having allowed them into my life and am seeking to eliminate their presence as quickly and efficiently as possible.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHbg8b2DGNqd4Uu6XGlW6R4BA2VSA6-2db2AftxFR9OB9nWus0LBWNsxW9seOpQ0CVOKwcGIr-t9RuIRCb9kDKjLcZbBt3dhssPt_8JSKc1wlYrJ73Wn3brcJMS0gEIl9rw9WRFg/s1600/6086303673_0626269743_b.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 281px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHbg8b2DGNqd4Uu6XGlW6R4BA2VSA6-2db2AftxFR9OB9nWus0LBWNsxW9seOpQ0CVOKwcGIr-t9RuIRCb9kDKjLcZbBt3dhssPt_8JSKc1wlYrJ73Wn3brcJMS0gEIl9rw9WRFg/s400/6086303673_0626269743_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693594644858148434" /></a>1 Victims: not those who have been the recipient of treatment intended to victimize them - instead those who consistently regard themselves as a victim. People who marinate purposefully in a cauldron of psychological dysfunction. Who whine about the world and complain incessantly about how "put-upon" others make them feel. Those who continually place the blame for their circumstances on everyone but themselves. Blame, excuses, and victimhood are toxic, divisive, and diversionary.<br /><div><div>I am responsible for the things I have allowed to happen over the last year & how I chose to react to them. I have reflected extensively in writing as well as in silence seeking to determine what went wrong and when. I do not blame others for the things that I have experienced emotionally. I hold myself accountable for my emotions, my actions. I do hold others accountable for their actions. Analyzing and acknowledging their actions is not the same as refusing to forgive or holding a grudge, at the same time I feel no obligation to forget their past performances, nor to believe that they are not indicative of their future behaviors. </div><div><br /></div><div>2 Cowards: They will lie to you, lie about you, speak in passive-aggressive diatribes. They seek to hurt and belittle, to do it all behind an anonymous or an obtuse shield as they are too weak to actually face people they wish to hurt. Their own self-determined weakness is not something that I desire to be near. </div><div>I allow too many people near me who flock to me to be their voice, to say the things that they are too afraid to voice. I cannot do this anymore. These same cowards are unable to face me directly when they take issue with something I say or do. Instead, this year, they chose to attack others near me or positions I hold. This is unacceptable, I will do my best to be more aware of their capacities and intents in the future.</div></div>Jezcabellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01260863783484348959noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32364660.post-19666910201923239452012-01-01T23:53:00.004-05:002012-01-31T21:32:12.293-05:00the end of 2011<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjzOln0t97_Z5rrQY8bGlS6BC1-6HF40QZKy_BVp1aCRrH4UhFY6mSCD29gbu00IguS0dydxsOzaVvK2Svmsr_QnVxzvgJAHlxYmz8qWRVKFyD_JijiYGc5oBMgyWrKufJlYCD2Q/s1600/4772230410_6009541167_b.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjzOln0t97_Z5rrQY8bGlS6BC1-6HF40QZKy_BVp1aCRrH4UhFY6mSCD29gbu00IguS0dydxsOzaVvK2Svmsr_QnVxzvgJAHlxYmz8qWRVKFyD_JijiYGc5oBMgyWrKufJlYCD2Q/s400/4772230410_6009541167_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5703989204879499810" /></a>1 year ago I was being consistently emotionally manipulated by a man in my life.<div>Now, I am finally free of the drama and lies and manipulations. No longer beholden to his every tantrum.</div><div><br /></div><div>1 year ago I trusted friends. </div><div>Now, I trust so very very few people.</div><div><br /></div><div>1 year ago I accepted people into my life w/ little question.</div><div>Now, I question every encounter, "Do I really want this person in my life & how far & do I really care if their feelings are hurt when I draw the line for me instead of them.</div><div><br /></div>Jezcabellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01260863783484348959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32364660.post-54553221763102189122011-12-19T20:24:00.002-05:002011-12-19T20:52:35.738-05:00Breaking bread<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf8xyTbtSIlToEMTZqlvnxzwaxbP8TVySKVpuz5iX5D4nuyJ3p6N1_v6agfJd593oy8kaemZgk8RAGY0i1vYx_d6R-AmkGxbkE5BILpuIHkGjFdJ9-SjeYmkuBpsDELsue-58LEw/s1600/Braincream.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf8xyTbtSIlToEMTZqlvnxzwaxbP8TVySKVpuz5iX5D4nuyJ3p6N1_v6agfJd593oy8kaemZgk8RAGY0i1vYx_d6R-AmkGxbkE5BILpuIHkGjFdJ9-SjeYmkuBpsDELsue-58LEw/s400/Braincream.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688022409555475202" /></a><br />I'm at a peace. Calmness rules my internal structure. I have no overwhelming needs/wants that aren't being met. I have no emotional pain/stress, I have some physical pain but it is as handled as possible. Obi is cuddled in close, Hogfather is on the tele, plum wine in my glass, and I feel at rest in the universe. I could use a week of solitude and silence - but that is going to wait for a vaca later this year. An hour in a sensory dep chamber is just not enough to make up for the too much noise that I am surrounded by. Noises...<div><br /></div><div>Thanksgiving brought about a really interesting talk about <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Misophonia">Misophonia</a>. I suffer from this - in case you have missed my ranting about the desire to vomit or kill brought on by the mouth noises of other people eating with their mouths open, exacerbated by being trapped in small places with them. Picture me pulling my car over & making people throw out their gum when I was driving in highschool. As it is now I purposefully remove myself from eating with people who cannot chew with their mouths closed. At work I place myself as far from certain individuals as possible, at home I eat in my room, when riding/driving in cars I try very hard to be sure I am not along for a drive-thru run if it means eating with others in the car. </div><div>For years I have tried to express my disgust, that such noises make me feel nauseous, the general response is for people to not only continue making the noises but to make a sport of it. Laughing because of my obvious discomfort. The end result is that in the future I avoid eating around them. I have been having moments lately wherein I feel like I should apologize for this. I realize that the idea of apologizing for someone else's inability to chew with their mouth closed is ridiculous, pure ridiculousness. I state my needs, have them ignored or made fun of, then simply leave. It does make for awfully strange when in general the only meal I share with others is lunch at work. </div>Jezcabellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01260863783484348959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32364660.post-18290969832979557952011-12-12T18:16:00.003-05:002011-12-12T18:24:09.584-05:00Additional thoughts<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvGXK3J6AWMs_SzFr9CpZBdUGhwK6ZyYK8FK7Y58U4-ZSd7PbefuqaAWmS6KbjA1B1Xcqhhkcxcoy5m_9SSHgw2oKmaINs3ALOvwzFeZxTxaq6oQhfmtRTF1XwsSaBxm2ECdI8hg/s1600/Manuela_Jarry.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 350px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvGXK3J6AWMs_SzFr9CpZBdUGhwK6ZyYK8FK7Y58U4-ZSd7PbefuqaAWmS6KbjA1B1Xcqhhkcxcoy5m_9SSHgw2oKmaINs3ALOvwzFeZxTxaq6oQhfmtRTF1XwsSaBxm2ECdI8hg/s400/Manuela_Jarry.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685386646934332354" /></a><br />So, the GPS my work got me for Xmas is freaking awesome. I LOVE IT!!!<div><br /></div><div>As in it tells me where the "safety" cameras are located, it tells me the speed they are set to go off at, and it tells me my speed in relation to the correct speed limit on the screen (granted this is not a super high priority but is fantastically convenient). Add in the fun of telling me specifically what lane I need to be in or will need to be in & I am sold. So work, gave it to me. I had other options, I picked this one. I am exceedingly pleased with the choice and the option. & now of course all I want to do is travel.</div>Jezcabellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01260863783484348959noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32364660.post-82494408134691373272011-12-12T16:56:00.002-05:002011-12-12T17:04:53.703-05:006 Month Review today<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHYvshYKgJMWUXWTbFvWMouj6MBlOd0u5E3t_WCUSeyfYxUP3UXV2r6TxlkdL5keb-9ZI92rM0dHosG9XnAdcWkxZtFITVEsy9Pf_EZIomyJ6MAO1JZSCmnMm-4NJIUf3RzMFn-g/s1600/chickenheart.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHYvshYKgJMWUXWTbFvWMouj6MBlOd0u5E3t_WCUSeyfYxUP3UXV2r6TxlkdL5keb-9ZI92rM0dHosG9XnAdcWkxZtFITVEsy9Pf_EZIomyJ6MAO1JZSCmnMm-4NJIUf3RzMFn-g/s400/chickenheart.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685366151446699570" /></a><br />I pass, with flying colors. I'm winning in all the little ways that I was told I couldn't. That I was under and over qualified, that I wasn't bright enough & of course the ever so condescending - "You're perfect for QA, you don't need to know anything & the people we have doing it are idiots, you'll be great at it". I would love to follow that w/ threats but really the people who said that to me are just out of my life now & not welcome back into it. <div><br /></div><div>Right now, I win. No stress at work, no stress at home, no drama in my romantic life, only mutual respect and love shared with my friends. Best of both worlds.</div>Jezcabellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01260863783484348959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32364660.post-45512273331593362032011-12-01T21:35:00.000-05:002011-12-01T21:41:54.720-05:00Randoms tonightI remember talking to a man. A man who has spent less than an hour seeing me naked, less than that in good light. & that was over 2 years ago, over 2 years since we've been in the same room. I realize that he described my body in detail that I can hardly grasp, from coloration, texture, scent, taste, sound, he noticed. He can articulate them, he's thought of me beyond the moments we spent together. He's wracked his brain trying to find just the right comparisons, the right words to express what he found in me. We've never had sex, never even touched eachother's underwear zones. I don't know that we ever will. <div><br /></div><div>I remember bodies the way that he remembers mine. I remember every detail. EVERYTHING.</div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsCPpHJgc6U6i1hMo1FkSv7qUIyxtIYJqSxATIKL-iQVZpkVmk6NTGyI2h90qos4WkKB1cC5XXbR40T9QdW99ZXNDd7Ci5QQ1wiKshKYBexJ_G_8DqokHbyvqKP4r-NcAEoKULfQ/s1600/1904232_edc0_625x1000.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 319px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsCPpHJgc6U6i1hMo1FkSv7qUIyxtIYJqSxATIKL-iQVZpkVmk6NTGyI2h90qos4WkKB1cC5XXbR40T9QdW99ZXNDd7Ci5QQ1wiKshKYBexJ_G_8DqokHbyvqKP4r-NcAEoKULfQ/s400/1904232_edc0_625x1000.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681351894995918018" /></a></div></div><div>I sit here realizing how manipulated I was by my last 2 exes. The first by way of my own poor mental health and the second by way of consistent emotional pushes and twists. Neither of them capable of remembering my eye color. The first because he was incapable of connecting with people and the second by way of simply not caring about me beyond the sexual gratification and free therapy he received from me. </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpq6OgOLBePGYnNgDrjHzKLfNO1M6_TzyKKY83vx3FduB_JlAOiny19tFiEhGssAgoqAljP4xbbhR9kHxLANBSIIb4LBT7ksuvhVGtC9zB_FPOAyrPX4qeHlUX6khV8lss1vv1QQ/s1600/vines.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 278px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpq6OgOLBePGYnNgDrjHzKLfNO1M6_TzyKKY83vx3FduB_JlAOiny19tFiEhGssAgoqAljP4xbbhR9kHxLANBSIIb4LBT7ksuvhVGtC9zB_FPOAyrPX4qeHlUX6khV8lss1vv1QQ/s400/vines.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681354419889509698" /></a></div><div>There is a woman in my life. She looks me in the eyes & she tells me she loves me. She describes my eyes, my body, she calls me a catalyst, a force of nature. She says no one can know me & not be changed by the knowing of me. I say the same of her. If I am the hurricane, the unstoppable force that changes everything in my path, she is the single flap of a butterfly's wings, altering the world in almost imperceptible ways that have huge results. I love her dearly. She asks questions, she not only wants to know the answers but she listens & then asks the next questions... She analyzes herself & others; like I do only differently. She is constantly looking at herself & figuring out if she likes what she is & where she is & changes it if she is not ok with it. She changes! She touches everything she changes everything she touches, and so on. Seriously I can count on one hand the number of people in my life who actually look at things & purposefully alter them. She has the courage to do & to be & to live. I love her for inspiring me. </div><div><br /></div>Jezcabellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01260863783484348959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32364660.post-90802068229720357852011-11-03T21:05:00.003-04:002011-11-03T21:34:44.292-04:00yes<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcHRU42TzG6PJ9abfiZiMoQMjC45Px76qtlvTIfdBH_UCYZm9kIaWZY-ga5NvVWjAB-mzWXDKYWspyV2iQfxu42W5V5P2jKPiZ4jbqEQ9rdFSoMoYBa0A8XTE-wyjpsPRmJ2WSZA/s1600/Natalie+Perkins+-+Everythings+Okay.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 287px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcHRU42TzG6PJ9abfiZiMoQMjC45Px76qtlvTIfdBH_UCYZm9kIaWZY-ga5NvVWjAB-mzWXDKYWspyV2iQfxu42W5V5P2jKPiZ4jbqEQ9rdFSoMoYBa0A8XTE-wyjpsPRmJ2WSZA/s400/Natalie+Perkins+-+Everythings+Okay.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670947674851146290" /></a><br />I'm happy. I'm joi. I'm riding the fabulous mostly stressless social life. Life without being constantly emotionally manipulated - like this time last year - I have stresses and pains - physical in nature, frets and worries about a few people I love who are not the best healthwise. Still many things I cannot talk about. I will. Obi is safe purring next to me. D is a giant ball of fluff nearby. <div><br /></div><div>I am not bringing a great revelation right this second. The drives to and from work have been filled with thoughts of work. I really like it there. I know, enough & all that, but I really love it there. Standing desk in place, a firm-ish group of friends to lunch with, interesting things to constantly learn. Not absolutely perfect, but so much better than so many of the places I've been in the last few years. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Jezcabellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01260863783484348959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32364660.post-2573948614128651552011-10-28T17:48:00.004-04:002011-10-28T17:55:33.522-04:00oh happy day<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvCOj4ZsWSVr5O64J-dtYzlfKBViBQoq_lscg-eSNulGdooM2UUkjkAT4SONp73_rMH_ZIaaVmwuIhKLq5se4H9IVanssmapDnZx0poCP_MswJe5Wz2YdLfz2Yye_ZzyNjI6pVxg/s1600/1692946_da78_625x1000.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 310px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvCOj4ZsWSVr5O64J-dtYzlfKBViBQoq_lscg-eSNulGdooM2UUkjkAT4SONp73_rMH_ZIaaVmwuIhKLq5se4H9IVanssmapDnZx0poCP_MswJe5Wz2YdLfz2Yye_ZzyNjI6pVxg/s400/1692946_da78_625x1000.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668664368433521954" /></a><br />There are a few posts between this & the last which will be published with time. But I wanted to interject my absolute joi. I am in love with myself & those closest to me. I am currently dressing for the party tonight. I am excited and joiful at the prospects of fun before me. Just needed to share. I even received my lab results today & my numbers are all where I expected them to be - which means good, just barely within the limits of good but good nonetheless.<div><br /></div><div>On a side note - I think my animal spirit guide for 2011-2012 is the Honey Badger. Having finally accepted this, the strength & peace is wonderful. </div>Jezcabellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01260863783484348959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32364660.post-20214533952503669522011-10-19T07:12:00.002-04:002011-10-19T07:18:18.896-04:00This piece from last November<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1b01Gdo3_DH2v5PmkAE3Hes7ZaxfFHvu7-gMttVBh932JnmOw44HZpCT_ie5y6nqp3A3IqqTMrcPAS-Mnj3RGUujA0mgf1R4idc6dEwbmHLJLTxC5r6kifMPnT0QWuxLs8g0OKA/s1600/3440583_7419_625x1000.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 227px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1b01Gdo3_DH2v5PmkAE3Hes7ZaxfFHvu7-gMttVBh932JnmOw44HZpCT_ie5y6nqp3A3IqqTMrcPAS-Mnj3RGUujA0mgf1R4idc6dEwbmHLJLTxC5r6kifMPnT0QWuxLs8g0OKA/s400/3440583_7419_625x1000.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665161035307081570" /></a><br />Apparently bears repeating:<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(119, 153, 85); font-family:'Franklin Gothic Medium';font-size:13px;">If you don't like it or are taking my writing personally - stop reading. - I don't force the people I have in mind when I do write to the living, to read it, Jase, Wes, feel free to chime in on that one as you are usually the peeps I have in mind. For all others, this is not for you. This is for me & the people that I care about, continuing to read my writing for some strange ammunition, for more of my "hurtful hidden messages meant just for you", etc... Is officially discouraged. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(119, 153, 85); font-family:'Franklin Gothic Medium';font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(119, 153, 85); font-family:'Franklin Gothic Medium';font-size:13px;">This is not a syndicated blog or a blog that has a readership/following - frankly most of my friends do not trouble themselves to read it. Least not the ones who interact with me often IRL.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(119, 153, 85); font-family:'Franklin Gothic Medium';font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(119, 153, 85); font-family:'Franklin Gothic Medium';font-size:13px;">Also: reading my posts on here or any other social media & deciding you know what is going on in my life is ridiculous. You get a corner, a snippet of what I can or am allowed to discuss in these forums. Nothing more. If you actually want to know more I can always be contacted directly about it. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(119, 153, 85); font-family:'Franklin Gothic Medium';font-size:13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(119, 153, 85); font-family:'Franklin Gothic Medium';font-size:13px;">I now return to my usual processing & drama-free existence. </span></div>Jezcabellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01260863783484348959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32364660.post-1778101789339203792011-10-18T17:22:00.002-04:002011-10-18T17:35:41.075-04:00Today at work<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_LUeNndT9InSwJNtw4bYoOpD8l4uPZeLWilog4szIcpv1jpDYoGNsj4Kb3aKf1uQXCJ8B-e3LyeScdcpEXIVRcv-9O8t8Ct9feqtYoyaT2VRwp1XVlCbUleTFrDIKCjwzl1EKYw/s1600/1895257_8a9d_625x1000.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 314px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_LUeNndT9InSwJNtw4bYoOpD8l4uPZeLWilog4szIcpv1jpDYoGNsj4Kb3aKf1uQXCJ8B-e3LyeScdcpEXIVRcv-9O8t8Ct9feqtYoyaT2VRwp1XVlCbUleTFrDIKCjwzl1EKYw/s400/1895257_8a9d_625x1000.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664948827236536162" /></a><br />I did it, I managed to rock out more than anyone on my team. This means that 1/2 my team was there only half time or that they were recovering from serious throat/head colds, and the rest were feverishly working on other projects... So maybe not too much to be excited over, BUT I completed a bunch of points off of the sprint & managed to read 2 chapters in one of my required reading books, AND reread the first chapter of the book for the professional book club I've become a part of which meets tomorrow. I feel like I am starting to be competent at work. It has been almost 120 days since I started. It is still the best place on Earth to be working, for me at least, right now - after a ridiculous lunch of a slice of chicken club pizza and a salad, I enjoyed a fabulous massage to my lower back and piriformis. I feel really really good right this moment. <div><br /></div><div>Of course saying all that - I am about to clean the carpet in my room for the 3rd time in 3 weeks. Somehow the cats dumped the litterbox over AND Obi was up all night every few hours puking. It was terrifying waking to her, but she seems to be ok today. </div><div><br /></div><div>Then there will be booze and a nice hot shower. Snuggling under covers and then the new Torchwood on Netflix streaming. Really, I am feelin the warm and safe.</div><div><br /></div><div>& My Baby Sis's bday is today & A certain housemate got great news. Seriously. I just want this down as an awesome day.</div>Jezcabellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01260863783484348959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32364660.post-48500553444496466712011-10-17T17:34:00.004-04:002011-10-19T22:04:46.512-04:00Just So We Are Clear...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTB0WexLZXR2kiwHcWMCDf2JVswgQ8Hj6VxJZKzhDe1SCKpfaAFhlOGn2rHBf5pY_zFjP4jM9KIFGZFoLvZRBajivJK6QINAdIqQXwAk0qYEI1A_-QDR1h1vnZe0ew2NJs7MK9BA/s1600/846787_aff6_625x1000.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 397px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTB0WexLZXR2kiwHcWMCDf2JVswgQ8Hj6VxJZKzhDe1SCKpfaAFhlOGn2rHBf5pY_zFjP4jM9KIFGZFoLvZRBajivJK6QINAdIqQXwAk0qYEI1A_-QDR1h1vnZe0ew2NJs7MK9BA/s400/846787_aff6_625x1000.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664581862632675490" /></a><br />It was brought to my attention over the weekend that people seem to think my writings about the Most Selfish Man on Earth are about the demise of a Relationship, a Romantic Relationship, a boifriend/girlfriend Relationship. I assure it is not. It is in fact about recognizing the manipulations and lies I tolerated during the course of a friendship, a (small r) relationship. It has cost me friends, it has cost me people I cared about. I am happier than I ever was while friends with this man. My emotions are no longer being played like a yoyo at his every whim and need for attention. I am joiful that it is over, that I never have to contend with his lies again. It took so long for me to recognize many of his tricks that they were happening all the way back during what he described as our Relationship (capital R), that ended over 8 months ago. <div><br /><div>I just thought I would be clear on that. I still feel utterly used by him and my disgust with him is pretty strong. I'm also not saying that everyone on Earth sees him as a useless piece of garbage, a selfish, self-centered, self-important, lying, manipulative asshole. However that is exactly what he was to me. </div><div><br /></div></div>Jezcabellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01260863783484348959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32364660.post-78303016685068031552011-10-10T16:49:00.003-04:002011-10-10T19:11:21.485-04:00How I love my friends<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOlmm9s7ltd9Qp1pfGIYKqIhTyvLP2Vdz5Jax3ZcLshZ7tqpB08tDv8Wq-uVK4e6wNhHPtAJpfCO_xMqS3-xubDKePaIP3FTxt5ILYwP0sWTkyHKY65w6UH8nYnAuv_515MA6PXg/s1600/1241237_7151_625x1000.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 233px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOlmm9s7ltd9Qp1pfGIYKqIhTyvLP2Vdz5Jax3ZcLshZ7tqpB08tDv8Wq-uVK4e6wNhHPtAJpfCO_xMqS3-xubDKePaIP3FTxt5ILYwP0sWTkyHKY65w6UH8nYnAuv_515MA6PXg/s400/1241237_7151_625x1000.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5662004759395863378" /></a><br />I love my life, my family, and my friends. Thank you terribly for your love and support right now. As soon as I know more I can tell you more. Just suffice it to say that screaming monkey brain is rampant. Please send thoughts, love & energy to my ill friends, to their physical wellbeing returning as soon as possible. Nothing is public yet, so I am a touch hamstrung from discussing what is really aching my heart - let me tell you a story. <div><br /></div><div>Oberon, Obi, Obi Wan Kittie, uber-Bitch, my large orange tabby queen disappeared in mid-April. She has been with me for 17 of her 19 years. It tore me to pieces. I couldn't emotionally handle it, add in my usual spring issues, anniversaries of everything from deaths to the rape I associate the spring w/ some pretty rough times, a ridiculous dose of job stress, unnecessary relationship stress, and of course having to deal w/ the psycho ex-wife of the ex-boifriend's resurge of shit. I dealt w/ Obi's disappearance by breathing and letting go. If she needed to go off and die then so be it. I searched, I wept, I prayed for her to be at peace. I accepted that she was indeed most likely dead and gone forever.</div><div><br /></div><div>In July she was spotted by me - I made Justin stop the car, really quite suddenly. I ran back about 5 houses & in the driveway she sat looking at me. mrrrreowing for all her worth all raspy. She was down about 7 lbs, so skinny like she was when we first met. Along her abdomen there were tumors and lesions. A vet visit was in order, she was mostly clear of obvious infections/parasites. The xray showed clear lungs. The tumors needed to come off & so they did followed by biopsy. They were adenocarcinomas, during the surgery there appeared to be no metastases. In cats, given her medical history, age, etc... It will be most likely that the cancer moves to the lungs & kills her fairly quickly. The vet's final verdict was "months, not days or weeks and not years, but months." I have her quarantined in my room & D is in and out daily. I love her and want her to be out and about but I want her to feel comfy for whatever time we have left. </div><div><br /></div><div>She sleeps between me and the door or in my arms. Ever guarding, ever keeping me safe. There is going to come a day when I put her down, when her passing is at my behest, to save her so much the pain of a slow death that I cannot prevent. Currently watching "The Big Chill" and I guess the best image is that I feel like Glenn Close in the shower right now, as I have for months: surrounded by friends, crying alone, hurting over things I cannot bring myself to share, that is not an invitation, only an acknowledgement.</div>Jezcabellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01260863783484348959noreply@blogger.com2