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::and then...::
::Author::  Name::Storm From::Albuquerque, New Mexico, United States I am a leap year baby, which makes me six. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. View my complete profile 
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Tuesday, October 13, 2009 So, yeah Which led to a look-see. I really used to love blogging. No, I had nothing important to say. And it's disconcerting to see what a huge roller coaster my life used to be, so part of me just wants to delete the whole thing and say screw it. But, the other part of me kind of likes to go back and look at it all. There are things that I wrote about that I'd forgotten, and it's nice to be able to step back and see that the "grow up!" part of my blog.... Well, it helped. I don't feel so... lost. Writing as therapy, who knew? And so, yeah. I've realized that I've, if not grown up, at least out grown. The name has changed (but will change again as soon as I think of something catchy and perfect lol), the dark colors will go away, and the fairies, although I still think they're pretty, are on their way off my page. Maybe. If I still feel the same if a few days or so. As far as anything else? Well, I imagine that I'm pretty much a lone reader of my own blog these days, but I like reading my old stuff every now and then. So, a quick rundown. Jeremy and I are talking about marriage, houses, and babies. We're incredibly happy, and not a day goes by without laughter. I am so lucky to have him, and the best thing? He feels the same way. We're, like, totally made for each other. Okay, so '90's valley girl voice doesn't translate very well in writing. So, yeah. Anyway. I'll be back. Soonish. Maybe. ^_^ Labels: keyboard vomit, randomness On life And since it was an online diary, I of course talked about my problems. Or, should I say, problem, singular. I felt like I had nothing to talk about if I wasn't bitching about Steve. Which was, you know, probably true. I didn't. He took up my entire life. But I got sick of going over the same old ground, and it was making me feel even more pathetic than I already did. Last year was a huge year. A very, very hard year. Allow me to sum up... I broke up with Steve for the final time in December, 2007, just after Christmas. I was at my mom's, and we got into some huge fight over the phone (I don't remember what it was over), and I felt like I couldn't drive home because I was all emotional. Grandpa ended up offering to pay for an apartment for me if I would move out of Steve's. I jumped at the chance. I broke up with Steve, but he was having.... a hard time. We ended up staying friends. Not surprising, I don't think, since he was pretty much the only friend I'd had for about four years. I think that he thought that I wouldn't really do it. He helped me look for a new apartment, I got a job, he insisted on spending New Year's with me and came for my birthday (and sulked because I'd already moved out by my birthday and didn't spend the day with him--just a couple of hours). I got a job at a place I used to work. I met a guy there. Steve found out about my new guy. He started stalking me. He quit his job, started carving horrible things into his arms, stopped eating, and committed suicide within two weeks of the time that the new guy and I got together. It was the most horrible, scary, and emotionally harrowing time of my life. I feel like I'm a self-centered asshole for saying it like that, but there you go. I waver from feeling like scum, guilty for causing someone that I loved to go over the deep end, to pissed off at him for putting me in the position of responsibility, when I'm not, not really. I have horrible flashbacks of the way his face looked the last time I saw him. And I was so scared of him. I was afraid he'd hurt me or my new boyfriend. He would stand outside my work or my apartment for hours at a time, he found out all about my new boyfriend by searching his license plate online. I tried getting help, but I didn't know who to call. I finally got in touch with one of his friends, but that wasn't any help... but then Steve gave me his dad's phone number. I called his dad and told him that Steve was suicidal and quite frankly, I wasn't equipped to help him, especially as I was afraid of him. His dad started talking about how when he was young, he was feeling suicidal because his wife left him, but then they got back together and it was fine. I told him that wouldn't be happening with Steve, that we weren't getting back together, but he just... brushed it off. I called Steve's dad on the eighth of May, which was a Thursday. He did end up calling Steve, and Steve told him that he was needed. He said that he couldn't possibly make it until that Monday--the 12th. One of the reasons that he cited was father's day--although he didn't say as much, it seemed as though he wanted to spend the day with his girls, whom he'd fathered in wedlock, unlike Steve, who was a bastard from an affair. He called Steve back on Saturday and told him that it was an imposition to travel (three fucking hours) because he had a doctor's appointment that Tuesday and blah blah blahddedy blah. Steve lied to him. Said, oh, there's no need, we got back together, I'm happy, not suicidal, everything's just great. Steve spent Sunday with a sister on his dad's side that lives here in town. He spent Monday gathering all of his belongings together, throwing most of them away and labeling other things for various people in his life. He called me that night. I was trying to distance myself from him--I was still afraid of him and what he might do to me. Early Tuesday morning, he walked to a park that we used to frequent and hung himself. I just... Yeah. Five weeks later, my stepdad died of cancer. Nothing else happened last year. I guess the powers that be decided that was enough. Unless you count the wonderful new guy I have. He's pretty wonderful. No drama. Lot's of support and understanding. Sometimes I feel guilty for it, but I try not to. So... I don't know if I'll end up blogging more often or not. It's not really appealling to me at the moment, but ya never know. I just felt... Up to it today, I guess, although that... was pretty draining. just call me brittany miller... And Holy Fuck, did it hurt. But, it could've been worse. They could've been not taken out. Seriously, he said that it wasn't the hardest job he's done, but that it was damn close. And the hygienist? Looked slightly ill. Apparently the roots were growing at practically a right angle, wrapped around my jaw bone. Yech. I feel an unbelievable amount better. Sure, I'm all swollen, and its difficult for me to open my mouth. And there are stitches. Is it just me that thinks it's kinda funny that this is the first time I've ever had stitches? Seriously, the thought occurred to me while he was sewing me up, and I nearly started laughing. No? Just me? Well then... I actually had a lot of really strange thoughts rolling through my head while he was doing all that. Like, I'll never go through this again. Better pay attention to it. Oooh, crunching noise. Ow, ow, ow, ow, that hurt! God, I wonder how hard he's pushing. Oh, more crunching. That's kinda cool, actually. Hmm, the drill's so small. Reminds me of my dremel. Oh, there's part of my tooth! I wonder how many chunks go into that vacuum thingie? Eeeew, I wonder how it gets cleaned. Yuck. Oh, he's pushing again. God, I think my jaw's going to break. Okay, OW! owie owie owie. That's it, I'm not paying attention anymore.Strangely enough, the receptionist started joking that at least I wouldn't have to do it again. All in all, even though it's pretty damned tender, it feels a LOT better than it did before. I can't tell you how happy I am about this. And oh my god, I love my dentist. I never thought I'd say that. hmmm... Labels: evil dentists On Bad Ideas Bad Idea # 1 Shoes which are made of rubber and have had every last bit of tread worn off are not good to wear when it's raining. Wearing said shoes in the rain can lead to falling. Twice. In front of people. People that I see almost daily, no less. Believe me, my pride is more damaged than my body. Bad Idea # 2 Deciding that I'm going to wait to clean until I feel better? Really dumb. Because I haven't felt better, and now I have a large mess to clean instead of a small mess. Bad Idea # 3 Thinking that if I'm tired, I should sleep, while sound in reasoning, isn't sound in practice. Because now my sleep schedule is totally screwy. Bad Idea # 4 I made an agreement with my parents that I would design and implement a couple of websites for them. This, in itself, is a good idea. I'm fairly good at doing this. The badness started when I let them pressure me into starting it when I wasn't feeling up to it yet. I should have told them to either wait until I could really concentrate on it, or find someone else to do it. Now, because I was too tired to think of all the ins and outs of what I was doing, I'm trying to work with a web host that isn't very user friendly unless you've got a certain piece of web-publishing software--which I don't. The stupid thing won't let me get on and modify the HTML of a published page--which is all kinds of bad. Bad Idea # 5 I had convinced myself that everything was going to be OK with my moving-in-with-friends situation. It's not. I had told Steve that I would be out of here before the end of August, but now I have nowhere to go except back home--and while that is an option, it's not a great option. Bad Idea # 6 In a random and ill thought out confession, I told Steve that it didn't look like I'd be moving in with said friends. I also told him that I'd gone to roommates.com to see if I could find anyone to live with. There are three possible matches fitting my criteria, one of which is not all that affordable (for me, anyway) and farther away from my school than I want to be, one of which has a tiny, tiny bedroom for me and is just as un-affordable as the first, and one of which is really affordable but in a bad neighborhood (according to Steve). I told Steve that it didn't really matter if it was in a bad neighborhood, as I suddenly find myself between a rock and a hard place. This led to Bad Idea # 7 Steve asked me if I'd rather be between a rock and a sponge. Since that analogy is beyond strange, I had to ask him what he meant. He suggested that I get my part time job, that we move into a very nice apartment that we looked at about two years ago, and that we get back together. I honestly think that he's been thinking about this because a few days ago, I mentioned that if another friend of mine had said something about a very nice apartment in that area being extremely cheap with assisted housing. I think he got a little jealous, and maybe kinda sad, at the thought of me living there without him. Needless to say, the idea of "us" is bad, bad, bad. I can't say that I'm not a little tempted, because I am. But I know that that road is not one which I want to travel. I really don't want to tell him that, though. Bad Idea # 8 Staying friends with your ex? And talking to your ex quite often? Really not of the good, and it's even worse when their are still heavy feelings involved on both sides. Labels: drama condoms anyone? I haven't been doing very well the past couple of days. As a matter of fact, I barely remember yesterday, and I slept through most of today. I'm hurting pretty bad, too. I took my painkillers, but they aren't killing the pain so much as injuring it--erm, that is, I'm still hurting pretty bad, the pills are only serving to dull the pain a little. LJ called me tonight. He just wanted to inform me that he was quitting the ciggies again and "calming down" from when he was here. OK, then. I hope it stays that way. 
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