| Monday, October 22, 2007 |
| How Funky is Your Chicken? [LJ Repost] |
*part of a series of posts I am cross-posting. I'm finally within the MySpace timeline, which means these posts will be dated the actual date/time they were originally posted*
So I've just come back from "The Happiest Place on Earth"(WDW)only to be more depressed. All the energy I had before going away about getting my shit together and working on projects is now gone. I don't feel like doing anything again. I had an O.K. time, except I decided that apparently I don't play well with others (this doesn't surprise me since they used to always write this on my report cards!) after about 3 days with my mom I was ready to kill her, and not really for any good reason she was just trying to be nice, but her constant doting kind of made me want to strangle her about five different ways. Then after she left I had to spend time with Steve, and of course that was a disaster. It is hard to explain when you aren't experiencing it yourself, but first of all there were the daily jokes about wanting to have "Disney sex" (we didn't thank god), to the point at which he is so juvinile that you quite literally have to watch every single word that comes out of your mouth (god forbid you can't think of the word you want to say and use the word "thing" to replace it, he takes it as an ivitation. For example I think I was trying to say i needed to put my wallet back in my bag, but for some reason said "put my thing in the thing" and of course this was followed by several minutes of "I'll put my thing in your thing") made me puke a little inside my mouth that did). On top of this, he is worse behaved than several 7 year old boys, he cannot sit for like five minutes, no word of a lie, without fidgeting in some way, this usually involves poking me in the arm hard with a finger, or pulling my hair, or trying to stick his finger in my nose , or in my ear (esp. if it is a "wet-willie"), I shit you not. Meaghan behaves better than that! Fucking annoying. He's already talking about making plans for next year, and I have no idea how to tell him or explain to him that I don't forsee a "next-year" or possibly even want to try to work towards a "next-year". He also got me Kelly Clarkson tickets for Tuesday. I mean she's ok as far as pop music goes. I admit I am a closet American Idol fan, and I do own two out of her threee albums, but she's not exactly who I have on the top of my list for must-see concert of the year (I would have liked Kula Shaker or Concrete Blonde tickets, but they're not playing round here). Anyways the whole presentation of these tickets began with "Who's the best husband in the world?", yeah really right ? And things like this often happen, the days are full of his ego seeking games, like "You Don't Love Me Anymore" or "You Hate Me" which are expected to be answered in a way that makes him feel good about himself. And hopefully this helps one understand why in my mind I am stabbing his eyes out one million times with a pencil. I am starting to not even be able to belive how much hatred one person can actually have for another. I quite literally wish he would drop dead, and no I don't think I'd be sorry I said that either if it were to truly happen (for all those be careful what you wish for people out there). Also the funniest bit about the Kelly tickets, is he bought this extra set, and he was going to invite two of his friends along, and when it seemed like they weren't going to make it he did eventually ask me if anyone I knew would like to go. This is funny on several levels, the first being the not so funny, my friends are second in line, if he were truly the "best husband in the world" would it have not made sense to invite people I would have liked to spend time with first, rather than as a last resort? Also it is just amusing because I quite literally cannot think of anyone (except my half-sister in FLA) that would be caught dead at a Kelly Clarkson concert, and I siad as such to which he looked very bewilderered as if he could not possibly imagine that there were people on the planet who wouldn't give thier left arm to go to this concert, and it occured to me then and there that I don't think he understands me, or ever did. That our entire marriage has been based on his trying to mold me into what he wants. I didn't used to like gambling before I met him, and our anniversary this year was spent in Las Vegas. I didn't used to like football or baseball, and our weekends and nights are made up of watching games on the television. I could go on here, but I think you see the jist of what I am saying. While, I admit on some level that I like these things now because I tried them and they turned out to be better than I thought they would be, there is still some level in which I feel like the last five years has been about making me like the things I like, yet he won't even listen to an entire episode of my podcast because he doesn't "know that song/band". So I'm supposed to just swallow whatever medicine you give and enjoy it, but you're not expected to even try to understand the things that I enjoy? Frankly I'm tired of it, and while I guess I should be fighting for it, I just have no energy left anymore. I don't feel like doing anythign or going anywwhere and that's probably how he wants it, and I shouldn't let him do it, but I just don't have any willpower left. |
posted by IshtarAndromeda @ 9:19 AM  |
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| About Me |
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Name: IshtarAndromeda
Home: Medford, Massachusetts, United States
About Me: I dabble in many things. I'm not really a professional anything, though I try to be all of the following: music critic, dream intrepreter, DJ/podcaster, Astrologist, crafter (jewelry, clothing & acessories, as well as other miscellany), television theorist, video gamer, and the list is always evolving and changing.
See my complete profile
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