Today I was going to write a blog with beautiful words, and pretty imagery, but I didn't take my Ritalin, because I'm nervous enough without it today, with it I would be a ball of nerves. Today I took a Clonazepam for anxiety because I needed it, not because I wanted to nod out. I'm nervous because today I'm going to not just see Jess, I'm going to be having hot sweaty sex with him. My Ritalin would have given me the patience to sit here and write out the blog I had planned from yesterday. I even had notes I wrote down in my notebook for the blog I was going to write. I do promise to write that blog, but just not today.
I'm assuming the reason I haven't been getting comments is because my blogs have been repetitive and boring as well as not well written. Since I got my new phone that I can browse the Internet with, I have been reading my really old blogs. Wow, I wonder why I never used to use spell check. I also never used to read over my blog before I published a post. I didn't edit the post after I published it either. I do those things now, but even after all that I miss words, miss spell words, and add extra words. I noticed while living in Hawaii in 2009 I wrote some long ass blogs, and I complained alot. I also wrote a lot about moving to Seattle. A place I never made it to. I wrote a lot about going to Seattle Central Community College in Capitol Hill Seattle. Majoring in English Lit. I would still love to do that, but we all know I don't follow though on what I say I'm going to do. I don't even remember if I sent out the application for SCCC. When I lived in Hawaii I complained about too much sun and too much hot weather. Now I complain about too much country, and as always my parents. I complained about being fat both places. My own fault. Ritalin does help me follow through more on things I decide to do. It also helps me loose weight. Being on Weight Watchers also helps.
Do I complain too much? On my old blogs from Hawaii I sounded like an ungrateful pissy little bitch. I hated re reading myself piss and moan about living in one of the most beautiful places on Earth. I got to live there for free, even though I had to live with my parents they let me do pretty much anything I wanted, except go down and hang out in China Town where I used to score dope. They were being reasonable. I was being unreasonable. I still made it to Chinatown regularly. I just couldn't spend all day there like I wanted to. I wanted to spend all my days with my friend Jake. Jake was fun, when we did hang out we would go to the beach snorkel, walk around Chinatown looking at all the cheap rip off stores. Buy little Buddhas, and sunglasses, purses. He knew this little place that made the best smoothies. I've never tasted another smoothie like that back here in Wisconsin. Plus in Chinatown those smoothies were only a buck. Nothing like Jamba Juice's three dollars for a small smoothie. I am such a narccasstic asshole who only appreciates things after they are gone.
So today is the last day you guys will have to read about my worrying about seeing Jess again after six long years. Tomorrow you all get to read what happened. I'm sure it will be worth reading. To bad you guys don't read on the weekends. Why do most of you only read when your at work? What about John B.? Are you still out there? I've never had sex since I started blogging, now I'm going to have sex. Hopefully Jess won't mind if I blog about sex. I can change names. Even though I've already outed him as my sex partner. Although I could say, last night when I went over to Jess's house he didn't want to have sex with me. So I went to the bar and picked up this guy to have sex with, and then make up some name and tell you about it that way. That way Jess can have his anonymity. I'm sure it will be good sex, I have not had sex in two years. Any sex at all is going to be good sex. He doesn't have any standers to live up to. Lucky for him. Unfortunately for me I do. Guys have fantasies, and I have to try to live up to the naked photos I sent to him of me masturbating. I always get myself in over my head. Its hard to feel sexy when you don't feel comfortable with your body. I've had sex both ways. When I first met Pete I was chubby, and was embarrassed to screw him too, but a year into the relationship I lost forty pounds and I loved my body, and he got the benefits of screwing a girl who found her body to be sexy. I try to please no matter how I look. In fact if don't look very good I over compensate and please as much as I can. I just tend not to be the aggressor, but when I feel sexy I tend to be the aggressor, and initiate the sex.
Normally I don't care what clothes I'm wearing. I just wear a pair of black pants, a white t-shirt with a old t-shirt over that, and my Converse All Stars that are all torn up. I don't even give a shit what I look like for court. The only thing that I care about is that my track marks are covered up. So I would throw on a white t-shirt and a light sweater. pull the sleeves up, but keep them down just enough to keep my tracks covered up. Put makeup on my hands to keep those track scares covered up. Today my mom got on my case about what she though I should wear. I was just going to wear what I usually wear. A pair of black pants and a white T-shirt with a light sweater. I won't be leaving until later this afternoon after it starts to cool down so I won't be too hot, and plus I don't have to worry about his father seeing my arms. They aren't too bad right now because I don't have any kind of tan at all. I've been using sunblock all summer long. Its when I'm tan that my tracks really are noticeable. I really only have bad tracks on my left arm and hand, and on my right hand. On my feet they are pretty bad, but those are always covered. I have a tattoo covering the main one I used to hit. Still I don't want to take any risk of someone asking me what are those things on your arms. Although I've seen tracks a lot worse than mine while in rehab. Those Meth heads, they have some nasty tracks. All those chemicals in that shit. Those veins just collapse. I seen a guy who used to have the most big juicy veins. The kind I'm so attracted to( only because I'm jealous of) and each and every one that once was a big and juicy vein was now fallen in and scared up, and sort of black. Mine have little black dots in them, but his were black like they were infected. It almost looked like he was going to loose both arms. I've seen a lot of armless junky's in Hawaii. Not around here so much. You find mostly pill heads around here. Its rare to find an IV drug user in these parts. Well not that rare, but more rare than it is in Hawaii. In Hawaii walking through any park you will find at least five used fits, but here you'd be surprised if you found one fit once a year in a park. In Oconto Falls probably once every five years. When I was homeless I upped the amount of fits that were found in parks and parking lots. I left used fits everywhere. In parks, in parking lots. I was very careless. I would always wipe off my finger prints though. Just because your paranoid doesn't mean their not after you.I agree I was an idiot.
I got so high I scratched till I bleed. Love myself better than you. Know its wrong so what should I do? Finest day is when I learned to cry on demand. I'm on a plane I can't complain. My mother died every night. In a dream my memory is stored. What the hell am I trying to say. To write off lines that don't make any sense. Love myself better than you. Know its wrong so what should I do?