When I first started A Darker Side..., it was really meant to be my open forum bitch session. What I've found is that I head toward this blog more when the chips seem down than when I have a rant with a Muni experience or a loud-mouthed politician.
I could sit here right now and tell you and America at large that I knew YEARS AGO that China was on the verge of taking over the world, that there is a precise formula for world-power-ness for which China has held 2 out of the 3 factors required for at least a decade, that the American government has indeed, in this scenario, taken the slow boat to you know where ha ha ha.
But instead I am here because I feel impending doom. My new apartment situation seems doomed, my current relationship seems doomed, and my career seems doomed. That's a whole lot of doom. And I blame it on The Pill.
This new Pill I am on has made me a horny, emotional wreck. I don't know if these are better or worse side effects than the standard "gain weight, big boobs, mood swings." The point is, I get worked up about everything. I rarely used to cry and now I feel on the verge at least once a week. Such a girl.
I feel alone and down this week, too. It is easy for me to diagnose that I am in a "mini-depressive state" because my face literally feels heavy, so heavy I don't even want to carry it around with me. I think at the core I am worried about leaving the familiarity of my neighborhood, and the unknowns in the work department are not so comforting right now either.
Fuck. I need to get centered. I need to relax. I need to breathe. Sounds like it's time for some yoga.
11.21.2005
11.18.2005
I Thought...
I thought I looked cute today. That is, at least, until I was handed my fresh-off-the-press passport photos. I paid $14 to look like this for the next 10 years?! In fact, I think the photographer was even giving me a re-shoot chance and I didn't realize it. He said "I think you were smiling a little too much??" Ah yes, that would explain why I look like an Asian vampire with a double chin.
A picture may be worth a thousand words, but this photo left me speechless. Fuck. Should I re-take them when I haven't consumed beers and only had 5 hours of sleep?
A picture may be worth a thousand words, but this photo left me speechless. Fuck. Should I re-take them when I haven't consumed beers and only had 5 hours of sleep?
11.08.2005
The Difficulty of Dark
Can I tell you something, my friend?
It is hard being dark. It doesn't happen to me all the time, which is why my posts are so infrequent.
But you know, it's tiring, the darker side of things. I'm tired of being enraged by idiots. I'm tired of pretty girls who think that being pretty is a good enough excuse to allow them to pretend to be unaware that they are cutting a line or walking in the middle of the street (OK, I admit: I used the unaware/break a bar line thing tonight - I admit! And it worked!), I'm tired of moms thinking it's ok to block the entire movement of the public because of the priority of the item in the stroller, tired of people not understanding that EXITING public transport supercedes ENTERING it, tired of honking my horn to indicate that everyone else in San Francisco is making illegal turns and stops and whatnot. My friend, I am simply tired of being angry.
I love being happy. As my closest friend, you know that, and you also know that I am a bit twisted. So I really really hope the infamous Governer of California gets fucked bigtime on the Special Election shit. That will make me very very happy. Yeah!
It is hard being dark. It doesn't happen to me all the time, which is why my posts are so infrequent.
But you know, it's tiring, the darker side of things. I'm tired of being enraged by idiots. I'm tired of pretty girls who think that being pretty is a good enough excuse to allow them to pretend to be unaware that they are cutting a line or walking in the middle of the street (OK, I admit: I used the unaware/break a bar line thing tonight - I admit! And it worked!), I'm tired of moms thinking it's ok to block the entire movement of the public because of the priority of the item in the stroller, tired of people not understanding that EXITING public transport supercedes ENTERING it, tired of honking my horn to indicate that everyone else in San Francisco is making illegal turns and stops and whatnot. My friend, I am simply tired of being angry.
I love being happy. As my closest friend, you know that, and you also know that I am a bit twisted. So I really really hope the infamous Governer of California gets fucked bigtime on the Special Election shit. That will make me very very happy. Yeah!
10.28.2005
Mona's Man Tip #1
I know most of the men out there just want to see women happy. It is why many of you go to great lengths, in many different ways, to make women happy: you want to see we are cheerful. Men capture our hearts because of these endearing efforts. I love the idea... in concept.
I think I speak for most of the female population when I offer this advice to men:
If you are not someone whom I have authorized to take my picture, do not order me to smile. I don't care if you are a stranger on the street or my lover on top of me - do not tell me to smile. I can be happy without smiling. Let me have my feelings, my times of being distracted, and my ability to be completely absorbed in something.
Unless you are one of my parents teaching me how to relate in the world, do not say "You should say 'thank you;' that was a compliment." You might not have considered that, in my eyes, what you just said wasn't a compliment. Maybe to me it was an insult. Or maybe you didn't word the compliment powerfully enough for me to hear it. Which is why I did not respond. It is nice that you are giving me a compliment, and if I notice it as such I will say thank you, or blush, or most likely do both at the same time.
I think I speak for most of the female population when I offer this advice to men:
If you are not someone whom I have authorized to take my picture, do not order me to smile. I don't care if you are a stranger on the street or my lover on top of me - do not tell me to smile. I can be happy without smiling. Let me have my feelings, my times of being distracted, and my ability to be completely absorbed in something.
Unless you are one of my parents teaching me how to relate in the world, do not say "You should say 'thank you;' that was a compliment." You might not have considered that, in my eyes, what you just said wasn't a compliment. Maybe to me it was an insult. Or maybe you didn't word the compliment powerfully enough for me to hear it. Which is why I did not respond. It is nice that you are giving me a compliment, and if I notice it as such I will say thank you, or blush, or most likely do both at the same time.
10.03.2005
Let's Play A Game
Here's a fun game:
I'm in Walgreen's. There is a woman in line in front of me. Between the two of us, we buy a carton of cigarettes and a pregnancy test.
Q: Which one did I buy?
Ooooh this is fun! You're agonizing, aren't you? The answer is: negative.
I'm in Walgreen's. There is a woman in line in front of me. Between the two of us, we buy a carton of cigarettes and a pregnancy test.
Q: Which one did I buy?
Ooooh this is fun! You're agonizing, aren't you? The answer is: negative.
9.24.2005
Pushing My Hypochondriac-"isms" On Another
Most people don't want to know this stuff. Lucky for you, you are my closest friend, so I am going to tell you. And I am about to die doing it.
To put it bluntly, My Man does not have smooth testes. He's lumpy. First time I've ever experienced that in my life.
So, knowing me (well, you don't, but you'll soon find out), I've gotten increasingly worried about this. I mean, the man doesn't go to the doctor very often. He's always "fine" when he's really not. F'ing tough guys. Love'em and hate'em. Doesn't help that I am a hypochondriac who always thinks I have some terminal illness.
Anyway. So, his scrotum, in more medical terms, is lumpy. Of course I automatically think "Testicular Cancer," freak myself out a million times over, and start a Google search after worrying for days. The Good News: most likely not. The Bad News: all sorts of other possibilites (including an STD), for which, in order to determine WHAT EXACTLY IT IS, I would have to ask him the following questions:
When did you notice the lump?
Have you had any previous lumps?
Is there any pain?
Does the lump change in size?
Is only one testicle involved?
Have you had any recent injuries or infections?
What other symptoms do you have?
Is there scrotal swelling?
Do you have abdominal pain?
Do you have any lumps or swelling elsewhere?
Have you ever had surgery on your testicles or in the area?
Were you born with both testicles in the scrotum?
Uh... yeah. No thanks. Mainly because I could never ask those questions with a straight face. BUT. I kind of DO need to ask these questions, because they will determine if it is a quote-unquote normal lumpy scrotum or if it is a result of an STD. SO. I have some thinkin' to do. Fuck me. Er, hold off a while, Sailor, till I figure this one out.
And on a total sidenote, the people across the street are having a rager. So I don't see myself getting up tomorrow to meet my running group at 8am. But I digress.
To put it bluntly, My Man does not have smooth testes. He's lumpy. First time I've ever experienced that in my life.
So, knowing me (well, you don't, but you'll soon find out), I've gotten increasingly worried about this. I mean, the man doesn't go to the doctor very often. He's always "fine" when he's really not. F'ing tough guys. Love'em and hate'em. Doesn't help that I am a hypochondriac who always thinks I have some terminal illness.
Anyway. So, his scrotum, in more medical terms, is lumpy. Of course I automatically think "Testicular Cancer," freak myself out a million times over, and start a Google search after worrying for days. The Good News: most likely not. The Bad News: all sorts of other possibilites (including an STD), for which, in order to determine WHAT EXACTLY IT IS, I would have to ask him the following questions:
When did you notice the lump?
Have you had any previous lumps?
Is there any pain?
Does the lump change in size?
Is only one testicle involved?
Have you had any recent injuries or infections?
What other symptoms do you have?
Is there scrotal swelling?
Do you have abdominal pain?
Do you have any lumps or swelling elsewhere?
Have you ever had surgery on your testicles or in the area?
Were you born with both testicles in the scrotum?
Uh... yeah. No thanks. Mainly because I could never ask those questions with a straight face. BUT. I kind of DO need to ask these questions, because they will determine if it is a quote-unquote normal lumpy scrotum or if it is a result of an STD. SO. I have some thinkin' to do. Fuck me. Er, hold off a while, Sailor, till I figure this one out.
And on a total sidenote, the people across the street are having a rager. So I don't see myself getting up tomorrow to meet my running group at 8am. But I digress.
9.23.2005
Convinced
I am convinced that people who drive the speed limit are a) new moms, b) old people, or c) illegal immigrants.
9.20.2005
Scared Shitless
I know you are dealing with your own shit. But I am going to share my freak out. Here's the deal. Breathe. Okay.
I am worried about my man's upcoming visit. He's spending a lot of money to spend time with me, and I am having reservations. As much as many people would like him to be, he might not be "The One," and I think those other people's wishes are pushing this shit forward, as well as my own desires to be "committed" and evolve.
I know he cares about me. Basically, he's all in. But the thing is, he just doesn't seem all there all the time. He's like a 5 year old with ADD. I see it more and more. And I don't know if a week here in SF will assure me that it's something I can deal with longterm. Apparently, sometime in the past 5 days he crashed on his bike and has a bruised rib. I didn't hear about it till yesterday, even though we talk everyday. Is that something normal people leave out? Call me crazy, but it's the first thing I would mention if it happened to me!
So. I'm making a list of the things that scare me about committing to him, and the things that don't:
Scare Me:
1. He thinks about too many things at the same time and prioritizes the wrong thing
2. At first, his ability to go into any situation and work with it was a plus. I don't want to be with someone that sits in a corner . But now I realize that when he is in a social environment, he gets so wrapped up in it that I don't exist
3. At one point during really good sex, he asked me to smile. I hate when strangers do that on the street - do you think I like it during sex with someone I know?
4. He's selfish, but I think that is because he hasn't had to think about anyone but himself for a while. But still.
Hmm. I'm going to stop here. Mainly because I know I am getting ahead of myself.
Things That I Like:
1. He is all in
2. I'm attracted to him
3. At the end of the day, he helps me sort through my shit. Even if he isn't sorted through his, how can he still manage to do this? He gives me a confidence others can't. I don't know how he does it! (Oh yeah, he doesn't know me well enough yet.)
Then I wonder, if there are this many things that are warnings to me about him, how many warnings does he have about me? I rack my brain on this one. But for some reason, I always come out looking perfect on the receiving end (which is probably why I'm still single).
On that note, I'm going to let it go. I don't feel bad that he is spending a lot of money to come here and spend time with me. Truth be told, I don't think a week with him is enough to really figure this out. It's not like we're here working and living together, so it's not the real deal. Either way we are already invested in one another, and him coming to see, well, I consider that like an insurance policy for both of us. But I'm still scared shitless.
I am worried about my man's upcoming visit. He's spending a lot of money to spend time with me, and I am having reservations. As much as many people would like him to be, he might not be "The One," and I think those other people's wishes are pushing this shit forward, as well as my own desires to be "committed" and evolve.
I know he cares about me. Basically, he's all in. But the thing is, he just doesn't seem all there all the time. He's like a 5 year old with ADD. I see it more and more. And I don't know if a week here in SF will assure me that it's something I can deal with longterm. Apparently, sometime in the past 5 days he crashed on his bike and has a bruised rib. I didn't hear about it till yesterday, even though we talk everyday. Is that something normal people leave out? Call me crazy, but it's the first thing I would mention if it happened to me!
So. I'm making a list of the things that scare me about committing to him, and the things that don't:
Scare Me:
1. He thinks about too many things at the same time and prioritizes the wrong thing
2. At first, his ability to go into any situation and work with it was a plus. I don't want to be with someone that sits in a corner . But now I realize that when he is in a social environment, he gets so wrapped up in it that I don't exist
3. At one point during really good sex, he asked me to smile. I hate when strangers do that on the street - do you think I like it during sex with someone I know?
4. He's selfish, but I think that is because he hasn't had to think about anyone but himself for a while. But still.
Hmm. I'm going to stop here. Mainly because I know I am getting ahead of myself.
Things That I Like:
1. He is all in
2. I'm attracted to him
3. At the end of the day, he helps me sort through my shit. Even if he isn't sorted through his, how can he still manage to do this? He gives me a confidence others can't. I don't know how he does it! (Oh yeah, he doesn't know me well enough yet.)
Then I wonder, if there are this many things that are warnings to me about him, how many warnings does he have about me? I rack my brain on this one. But for some reason, I always come out looking perfect on the receiving end (which is probably why I'm still single).
On that note, I'm going to let it go. I don't feel bad that he is spending a lot of money to come here and spend time with me. Truth be told, I don't think a week with him is enough to really figure this out. It's not like we're here working and living together, so it's not the real deal. Either way we are already invested in one another, and him coming to see, well, I consider that like an insurance policy for both of us. But I'm still scared shitless.
9.18.2005
Like The Man, Hate His Kisses
Why, why, why do European men kiss weird? Don't misunderstand me, some American men just suck at kissing. In fact, by 33 I feel lucky to have kissed as many good kissers as I have. American kissers lately have been sub-par. Two years of bad kissers is unacceptable. But those male Euros, they do some weird stuff. I don't know how the Euro women put up with it, frankly.
I am on Euro #3. The 2 Frenchies did the same stupid-ass kiss maneouver: "The REAL French Kiss." It consists of being in the middle of a standard (i.e., American-style French) kiss, and then getting their tongues all slobbery and rolling them in circles around your tongue. I don't know why they think this is sexually stimulating; what can the girl do with her own tongue while it's being harrassed by his? With both of these guys, the only way to stop the unpleasant intrusion was an irrepressable laugh, and then they were like "what?" I don't recall how I would respond, but neither of them liked it.
Now here I am with Dutchy. I was so excited about our first kiss. And our second. But the 3rd? Oh no. Dear God, not again. What the hell is he doing with his tongue??
He's doing "The Flick." As above, we were in a nice groove of standard kissing. But see, the Euros start with the "no open-no-tongue" kissing. To indicate that I was moving forward in intimacy level, I let my tongue slip into his mouth, hoping for a tongue-toast. What did I get? No tongue-toast. No. He opened up and let my tongue sit in a vacuous hole. THEN, in order to indicate his heightened desire, he. flicked. his. slobbery. tongue. back and forth. in. my. mouth.
Yuck. AGAIN! What is a girl supposed to do while someone else's tongue is going 80 km [note the European measurement] in her space? Because I really really like Dutchy, I didn't laugh. But I wanted to. Really bad.
Yeah, yeah, there are ways to change a man's kiss. I've been told the whole "how to..." before. But that week that we were together last, it just didn't seem like the right time. Fuck.
I am on Euro #3. The 2 Frenchies did the same stupid-ass kiss maneouver: "The REAL French Kiss." It consists of being in the middle of a standard (i.e., American-style French) kiss, and then getting their tongues all slobbery and rolling them in circles around your tongue. I don't know why they think this is sexually stimulating; what can the girl do with her own tongue while it's being harrassed by his? With both of these guys, the only way to stop the unpleasant intrusion was an irrepressable laugh, and then they were like "what?" I don't recall how I would respond, but neither of them liked it.
Now here I am with Dutchy. I was so excited about our first kiss. And our second. But the 3rd? Oh no. Dear God, not again. What the hell is he doing with his tongue??
He's doing "The Flick." As above, we were in a nice groove of standard kissing. But see, the Euros start with the "no open-no-tongue" kissing. To indicate that I was moving forward in intimacy level, I let my tongue slip into his mouth, hoping for a tongue-toast. What did I get? No tongue-toast. No. He opened up and let my tongue sit in a vacuous hole. THEN, in order to indicate his heightened desire, he. flicked. his. slobbery. tongue. back and forth. in. my. mouth.
Yuck. AGAIN! What is a girl supposed to do while someone else's tongue is going 80 km [note the European measurement] in her space? Because I really really like Dutchy, I didn't laugh. But I wanted to. Really bad.
Yeah, yeah, there are ways to change a man's kiss. I've been told the whole "how to..." before. But that week that we were together last, it just didn't seem like the right time. Fuck.
9.17.2005
Damn the White Check Mark
Damn that little white checkmark in the green blob called Skype. It haunts me. I watch your Skype status all the time.
Baby, with you so far away I feel like I am on a constant watch for your Skype clock to turn into a checkmark indicating your presence. You calm me. Just seeing that checkmark soothes my soul, it tells me you're here.
Sometimes, a little window pops up and says you have just signed in, and I sigh and am glad. And then I click to IM you, and you're not really there. I think your computer is fucking with me. I hate her.
Baby, with you so far away I feel like I am on a constant watch for your Skype clock to turn into a checkmark indicating your presence. You calm me. Just seeing that checkmark soothes my soul, it tells me you're here.
Sometimes, a little window pops up and says you have just signed in, and I sigh and am glad. And then I click to IM you, and you're not really there. I think your computer is fucking with me. I hate her.
Congratulations, You Are My Closest Friend
Congratulations. You are now my closest friend. Because here, at this place, I will tell you everything. Over there, at that other blog I have, that's where I edit my life and thoughts for the aunt I know reads it, the boyfriend, and one of my dad's old advertising buddies. Sure, it's a little raw, but in a place like that, you have to put a filter on.
Don't get all excited that this is the start of your XXX fantasy, or your admission ticket to a twisted mind. All in all I'm a pretty straight-laced gal with a few inappropriate thoughts. I am so happy to share them with you.
Don't get all excited that this is the start of your XXX fantasy, or your admission ticket to a twisted mind. All in all I'm a pretty straight-laced gal with a few inappropriate thoughts. I am so happy to share them with you.
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