Aug. 13th, 2002

rockettqween: (Default)
The power went out at our place. Just in a 1/2 block radius. Because I have some irrational fear that if I can't make the lights go then I am obviously still dreaming and I will have to fight to wake up because I am trapped and can't find where my body is sleeping(recurring lucid nightmare), we came to my workout partner's parents house. We watched some bad movie about evolving creatures allergic to head and shoulders or something (oops didn't mean to spoil the ending) and then while channel surfing found Orgazmo the mormon turned porno superhero masterpiece. We may be using the hot tub in a bit. My workout partner is watching the simulated sex channel. Boob jobs and fake head for us all!!!

No startling revelations today. I got some advice on how to handle panic attacks/flashbacks which I may try to implement.

Wait... I did realize that I am more paranoid that people hate me and are out to get me at 12-step meetings than anywhere else. I'm not sure why this is.

I miss Las Vegas still.

The desert keeps calling. I may have to change my number.

I'm getting good enough at pool that I may try doing it while wearing 7-inch platform stillettos again. It's a great way to piss of misogynists. Beat them badly while looking incredibly hot.

I'm going through an angry phase right now.

I also want to scream random shit in public like "PEACHES TASTE GOOD MOTHERFUCKERS!!!!! EAT FIVE A DAY YOU STUPID FUCKS!!!!!!!"

I don't have a fucking clue what I'm doing with my life. I think that's the first step to greatness.

101 tiny monkeys say I am a rabid squirrel.

Now I'm beginning to understand why.

Henry Rollins is kinda hot.

I should probably just quit entering random nonsense and go have sex in the hot tub provided my workout partner has not fallen asleep in front of the simulated sex channel.

Suck

Aug. 13th, 2002 06:09 am
rockettqween: (Default)
Rocket Queen grabs Workout Partner off Diablo II and says it's time to go hang out in hot tub.

On way to hot tub RQ suffers major anxiety attack.

Gets in hot tub. Continues to suffer anxiety attack. Overheats.

Gets out of hot tub. Runs in house. Collapses on couch and sobs uncontrollably. Decides to kill social worker RQ hates with passion. WP holds RQ's head on lap and listens patiently while RQ continues to cry and rant.

Realizes that killing social worker would make social worker hero. Also does not want to prove social worker right. Would rather sue social worker for emotional damages to myself and my child and cause social worker to resign and end up doing shitty desk job for rest of life resulting in terminal misery.

Remembers that 12-step sponsor is looking into parental rights advocacy groups and hopes something positive will come of it.

RQ smokes much needed cigarette, logs on to LJ, drinks Sprite to settle nervous stomach, and looks forward to sleeping next to WP. Hopes power turned on at home soon so as to avoid neurotic lucid nightmare related fears.

Thankful to be tired now. Sorry hot tub outing was not as fun as expected.

Perhaps it's good to cry sometimes. Beginning to feel better now.

I inherently know that I am a good mother. My son gives me the best hugs in the world. He's always happy to see me and never wants me to leave. That's gotta count for something. I've never done anything but the best I could do for him and when I look at him or talk to him, I think he knows that.

I could really use a lot more 5-year-old hugs in my life.

I really love my kid. I want to be there for him in a way my parents were incapable of being there for me. In a lot of ways, even with the situation being the way it is, I'm succeeding.

I'm going to go to bed now with somebody who gives a shit. I'm really glad to have them in my life.

Blech.

Aug. 13th, 2002 01:47 pm
rockettqween: (Default)
Crashed out at Workout Partner's parents house in spare bedroom. Woke up with sinuses flaring. I think I'm allergic to parents' houses. Saw WP's sister in hallway. Ran away. Can't deal with relatives upon waking. Besides, I usually feel I'm being scrutinized by them. Luckily WP's dad hasn't come in to ask me why I'm not on flipdog.com . It's bad enough I'm beating myself up for not contributing financially, I don't need someone else's dad giving me shit about it. My dad doesn't even ask. Of course we don't talk to each other either. It's odd to be around a family that actually talks to each other.

My hair's a freakin mess. I want french fries and can't afford them. Suck. All I want is french fries. It's that week of the month I want french fries and chocolate. Just french fries and fucking chocolate.

I need to call a few people and see if they want to hang out. Got a dinner invitation from one of the strangest of the strange. I will probably accept because I've wondered what this particular individual's trip was for years now. He's also a member of the "WHO THE FUCK IS THAT?" club.

WTFITC - People I've wound up getting to know one way or another after emitting the fateful words "Who the fuck is THAT?" Meaning they caught my attention for being overly pretentios, overly attractive, immediately annoying, or overly intriguing. Before I can realize it, uttering those words means I am 99.9% guaranteed to get to know or be affected by said individual sometime in the future.

Suicide boy was one. (ex-boyfriend) The Mentor is another. (good friend) The Million Dollar Maverick Man. (ex-husband) The ego formerly known as John. (adversary) St. Catherine. (Someone who's apartment I had sex in with Suicide Boy) The Amazing Roberto. (good friend) [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]. (another good friend) Psycho-Boy. (Really Bad Idea) Uncle Jimbo. (Another good friend who's nothing like his club persona and another person who's apartment I had sex in only this time it was with The Amazing Roberto in the bathroom. On the Kitty Litter.)

It's impossible to tell if said WTFIT individual will be on one side of the spectrum or another but I've wound up with enough good friends and interesting stories from WTHFIT people that I always do it.

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