I rejoice in what I have and I know that fresh new experiences are always ahead. I greet the new with open arms. I trust life to be wonderful. – Louise Hay
"You can be the worlds greatest hero, or its most mild mannered citizen, the only person who can write your story, is you!" - Jonathan Kent to Clark Kent
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I have been having terrible dreams all week. I have had two dreams where people are trying to kill me. One includes my mean uncle taking a gun and pulling the trigger three times at my stomach and twice at my head. Thankfully, the gun hadn’t been loaded, which he hadn’t known at the time, so I never died. But it was terrifying nonetheless. And in that dream, my dad was Bob Saget. Weird.
But last night’s dream has to be the worst this week. I was getting married. Oh, I know that sounds great, especially if you know how much I can’t wait to get married and have kids, but I didn’t like the guy I was marrying. He was a nice guy, but I wasn’t attracted to him at all. He was short and balding and not intimidating at all. Not my type whatsoever. My cousin and her family were at the wedding (The same family that includes the uncle that tried to kill me in my previous dream). My cousin’s husband is a tall guy, broad of shoulder, and my cousin kept telling me how her husband could take my husband and how he’s more attractive than mine. I was upset because it was true. I don’t find my cousin’s husband attractive at all. I find him gross. And if I knew he was better than my future husband, you can imagine how I felt about my fiance. But he was a nice guy. Would do anything and everything for me. He truly did love me. I was scared I’d never find anyone else. So it was marry this guy or be alone, and I didn’t want to be alone. I wanted kids too badly to be alone. But through the whole wedding ceremony, I had doubts. I didn’t want to go through with it. I didn’t want to have to act happy in front of all the guests and my family. I remember before walking down the aile, I blew a kiss at my soon-to-be husband, who would be walking down the aile behind me. Not sure why. And my dad is all happy and excited at the front of the church, and he’s telling everyone where to go. Pretty sure my cousin was also upset that she wasn’t one of my bridesmaids since there were fewer of them than there were groomsmen. But I absolutely didn’t want her up here with me.
The ceremony started, and the farther into the ceremony we got, the less I wanted to go through with it. While the priest started the ceremony, my future husband tried to kiss me, and I just turned so he hit my cheek. I didn’t want to kiss him at all. He didn’t seem to think anything of it.
While I’m up there, what sticks out in my mind is that now I’d have to tell Joe we couldn’t see each other. We were going to be over. For good. A marriage is something not to be messed with. I was stuck. Without him. And it was making me sick. I felt so guilty and terrible about it.
The homely the priest gave was a little unusual. He somehow had a hold of all the wedding party’s planners and schedules from years before and was going through them and finding embarrassing entries and asking us all about it and telling stories.
I somehow got stuck next to one of the groomsmen, Ryan, and he’s telling me how great of a guy my future husband was and how he’d be a great dad because he’s so good with his own kids. (Turns out Ryan is married to the mother of my future husband’s kids that I knew nothing about) And I was furious. How could I not know he had had children? Seemed like a big deal to me. So for the rest of the ceremony, I was trying to figure out when I’d tell everyone I couldn’t do this anymore. But I didn’t want to ruin the ceremony and waste everyone’s time and money, but I also didn’t want to be bound to this guy. I think I thought that I was okay as long as we never signed the marriage license.
I must have started waking up because I realized then that it was a dream, and the wedding stopped or was over and I’m sitting at the front of the church talking to Ana and trying to tell myself everything was going to be okay. But I wasn’t waking up, and I was getting worried I was going to be stuck. But I didn’t want it.
I’m not sure why, but I was doing therapy- I assume for my knees. I had my old therapist from in real life- Lisa, I think, is her name. Every day at 10:30, I would leave school and go down to therapy and then come back. On this particular day, I don’t know if I had a sub or if my teacher was getting fed up with me leaving all the time, but he asked if I had filled out the form required for me to just up and leave the school. Of course I hadn’t. I didn’t even know I needed to fill it out; although, I knew me just leaving the school was wrong, but what did I care? Rand, one of my old coworkers from my previous job was the teacher. This particular day was also a test day, and I had gone through the whole test and answered all the questions I knew, leaving the ones I wasn’t sure of until after I’d get back from therapy. But when I turned it into my teacher to hold my test until after I got back, and after he asked if I had filled out the slip, he told me I couldn’t leave until it was done. So I sat there and realized there were pages and pages I had missed.
I must have thrown a fit about being late to therapy because he let me go, but he said the test had to be done by the time I got back. Kathryn must have been giving me a ride to therapy, because we’re in the car, and she’s asking me questions from the test as we’re driving so we can try to hurry and get it done, but there were so many problems left that I had overlooked initially.
Therapy was uneventful, and on my way back to the school, I could tell that there was something wrong. The school looked abandoned. I found my little brother Tay, and we started looking around for survivors in the aftermath of what I presumed to be some sort of war. We couldn’t find anyone at the school, so we left, walking down the black top by where we live. We knew to stay out of sight; if people found us, we knew we’d get captured. About a mile down the road, we see two vans, and from a distance, they seemed abandoned. As we got closer, we could see some guys in there. Guards. We tried to be sneaky. I mean, we couldn’t be seen because they’d take us away. We passed the house and the vans and knew we needed to take cover because if those guys got out and looked around, they’d see us for sure.
We’re in the ditch, trying to hide in tall grass because we could hear the guys getting out of the van, and somehow, there is a bed lying in the ditch, so I crawl behind it, and I’m looking for Tay and he’s trying to scoot under the bed, but it’s a tight fit, and I try to pull him as a guard walks by. Tay must have hit the end of the bed and the movement gets us caught. The guard is Ser Barriston Selmy from Game of Thrones. He brings us to a prisoner’s camp. Like a POW camp.
There are two different camps that we can choose from, and I am just worried about not getting separated from Tay. So I strap him to my back and do a lot of the hard labor while he rests. I remember being so upset that we got caught and thrown in these prisons, but everyone else was trying to tell us it was really nice to be slaves and that the guards and everyone took care of them and the work was pretty easy, but I didn’t know which one was the easier camp. So I just picked one and did what they told me. I was starving, but I didn’t want to eat their food because I wanted to protest and get out of there, so I let Tay eat, but I didn’t want any.
I must have gotten in trouble because they started parading me through cattle yards that are sloppy and muddy and making me climb around and on top of the lower yard at my parent’s house which has a lot of concrete slabs placed around the yard. And I keep slipping and falling and getting poop on my hands from the cattle yard. And finally they let me break for supper where I meet the cast from Orange is the New Black. And Nikki sits with me and cuts up my chicken fried steak trying to make me eat it. I really don’t like chicken fried steak, and I told her that, so she put it on a bun and told me to pretend it was hamburger.
Then I woke up.
I came home kinda late last Saturday night from watching the second movie in the Indiana Jones trilogy (We like to pretend the fourth didn't happen), when I ran into one of my neighbors, whom I have never met. I want to also preface this with I looked like shit. My hair was frizzier than shit from the humidity. I had, like, half an afro going on, and I was wearing my glasses. But I was wearing a short shirt and shorts that did fit rather nicely on me. And when I walked into the building, I noticed my shirt was riding up, exposing my midriff. As I was pulling my shirt down, my male neighbor happened to look over at me, and he gave me that up and down look, taking it all in. Gave me the creeps, and I just tried to sneak past him, but of course, that'd be way too easy.
He stops and asks me something that I couldn't hear, so I kept walking. I didn't want to encourage this guy or talk to him, but he followed me down the hall and is asking me what my name is, what I'm doing, where I was coming from, what I'm going to be doing. I had to make up some excuse about being busy because he kept hinting that he wanted me to join him to go grab some beer and then hang out in his apartment. He asked where I work, and I told him. He told me he hates that bank (Way to earn brownie points, dick) and then proceeded to tell me he was unemployed. And I tried to be polite and then he gave me his number because his phone was dead. Then I hurried into my apartment. Needless to say, I am not calling him or texting him. Ever.
I was telling my brother about the whole thing, and he made the comment that I attract all the weirdos. Which is true. I do. And I told him about how a couple weeks ago, I was coming out of a convenience store, I got hit on by some guys that were just pulling up. They were nice enough, but there was a whole car full, which made me feel super uncomfortable when they're all telling me how nice I look and whatever. I just felt like some sort of eye candy. I was polite, but I didn't stay and answer their questions nor did I answer them when they invited me out to the bar they were going to.
And do you know what my brother said to me? He told me I should have stayed and been more polite to them because it's actions like what I did that make guys go on a shooting spree.
And I about fucking lost it.
That's Aaron Rodgers thinking right there. The guy that killed, like, 7 people, including 3 or 4 women because he was tired of being a virgin and got pissed at the women that told him no.
Women don't OWE men or anyone else ANYTHING.
It is technically harassment for men to have treated me that way. In both cases. I was just a piece of ass they were looking at. I felt incredibly uncomfortable in both situations. I have a right to get as far away from that situation as fast as I possibly can. I don't owe those men anything.
Ugh. I'm still a little pissed off about this because so many men feel this way, a bunch of whom confessed online that they had similar thoughts to Aaron Rodgers, but they never acted on those feelings.
Maybe if there are a bunch of people turning you down and don't want to go out with you, you should take a step back and evaluate yourself. It's not their fault they don't return your feelings. That's on you.
Well, I'm all moved into my new place. Everything's even unpacked. The only thing that's left is to replace some pictures in some frames and to figure out where I want to hang things and where I'm going to do so since I'm not supposed to use nails. Any ideas on how to hang picture frames without nails?
My brother stayed with me this weekend. There's a beautiful lake/park in my backyard that we went to a lot. And we went bowling and to Falls Park, which is pretty amazing to look at. Took him to Cold Stone Creamery, an ice cream place. And played lots of video games and just hung out. It was a perfect way to transition me into my new place.
I love the independence of living alone. I will never live with someone again unless it's a significant other that I'm hoping I'll marry in the future. Ugh. This whole thing has just been a mess. My mom sent my now ex roommate a message saying how disappointed she was in her and how she had always hoped we'd be in each other's weddings and that she shouldn't have ditched me for some guy. And instead of my roommate replying, her boyfriend attacks my mom in a message saying how she's being immature getting involved and was trying to kill her with kindness but a mean kind of kindness if that makes sense. I would have let everything go until I heard about that. And then she went and blocked me and my whole family from FAcebook, but she's still following me on Twitter. Don't know why. Oh well. But I know her home address, and I'm sending her a letter detailing everything I felt for the last two months from my POV. No sugarcoating anything. She's going to be pissed, but I don't care. She'll never say anything back, so what do I have to lose?
