Jessi

I have it all figured out now

Thu, 01 Mar 2007 18:36:03 GMT

I am a master at rising to the occasion, meeting or exceeding what is expected of me.

Conversely, I languish under low expectations. I am unhappy and unfulfilled under them, longing for a challenge, and completely uninspired to achieve anything that might resemble my full potential. I keep myself distracted. I find other things to occupy my time. Sometimes I set up new challenges for myself, but it's easy for me to forget them or change my mind unless I commit myself to something. I set goals with no motivation to achieve them. Over time, I all but forget all about things like motivation and drive.

I'm experiencing this now. It's my job, and it's my relationship.

I can push myself, but I need a goal, I need a destination. I need structure. School provided that admirably. "Jump through these hoops." "Write a poem." "Research sex." "Practice piano." "Complete this elaborate sequence of tasks, piece your schedule together like a puzzle, and we'll give you this nice cream-colored piece of paper with your name on it." The long-term goal is clear, and the short-term goals are immediate and obvious.

Since leaving school, I've been drifting. Testing my boundaries, seeing how much I can do without actually accomplishing anything. The bar has been lowered. Now, there's a certain level I'll never get below but have no motivation to get above. If I have a peak of sorts, it'll still come down to this same level of the status quo. I'm setting my sights higher, but it's hard to maintain that energy when it's not required or appreciated.

I find it's the same in my relationship. There's a level of comfort, certainly, and it's nice not to have to impress anyone. But it's easy to see how married women "let themselves go," a phenomenon I've never understood until now. I'm in no danger of getting fat, but I have neither pressure nor motivation to, say, shave my legs. So I don't, though it was something I used to think necessary. Sure, it's harmless enough. But I don't like the idea that I might be less of a person in a relationship than on my own. That isn't right.

Wed, 28 Feb 2007 16:35:23 GMT

As I was working on some cover letters at Durango Joe's last night, Scott called to say he was making dinner, and he would have it ready for me when I got home. How nice! So I finished up my work (well, didn't quite finish) and headed home.

Imagine my surprise and delight when I walk in, and not only has Scott made dinner, but he rearranged the living room (we'd been talking about it--I bought an end table but couldn't—am not allowed to—lift it, and he brought that in and moved the bookcases and such) and sorted the recycle for today. Plus he'd done the dishes earlier. Great! I thanked him profusely and complimented him on the delicious dinner. I was in a good mood, and it all seemed like it was going to be a good evening.

From there, things started to go downhill.

I tried to bribe him with sexual favors into giving me a massage, and he seemed to like the idea. We got nekkid, and were playing around, but he was being too rough, biting too hard, spanking, et cetera. I said "ouch" when he did and tried to discourage him, but I finally had to tell him to knock it off.

He sure did. He rolled over, pulled the covers over his head, and wouldn't look me in the eye even when I rolled him over to face me. I tried to tell him I didn't mean to be short with him, but he was having none of it. So there he was, suddenly sullen, and there I was, wishing I could go back to five minutes before when everything was so great and feeling bad for making him feel bad, and frustrated because I was so completely shut out that there was no in again.

So I put on my robe and left the room, sat on the couch, crying and playing guitar, half-trying to write a song but the words wouldn't string together. About one in the morning I settled into the couch and tried to sleep. I felt like it was my fault, but at the same time I kept hoping that Scott would see he was overreacting and would either apologize or forgive me. Of course he wouldn't, and didn't.

At 4:30, I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep, and I finally went to bed and found Scott awake too. We reconciled, almost without words, and I was finally able to fall asleep in his arms. In spite of everything, it still manages to feel like the safest place in the world.

Wed, 28 Feb 2007 02:43:15 GMT

I've had all these feelings lately, that leave me quite confused and helpless, for all the strong and enduring woman that I appear to be.

When this shit happened, I didn't ask questions. I guess I was afraid to find out the answers. So since then, I've been treating it like a great accident, terrible but it could have happened to anyone. I've been loath to cast judgment. But now...

I heard it from my mom. She just can't believe how I could still be with Scott after what he did, and it never occurred to me that perhaps she knew more than I did. Again, don't ask, don't tell, don't think, and maybe I can pretend it never happened. I'll always have the scars to remind me, but I can still forget. It doesn't have to change my life.

I know I have to learn my lessons, but that's all I've hoped or expected or figured would come of it. Get a new tattoo, stop getting so drunk, and buckle down. Put myself first now that I have had some hard proof that I'm at best second. At worst, a damn fool. And yet, I still hate to admit it because it makes the world seem such a lonely place. I know it, and at the same time can't help but leave the niggling incredulity in my mind that says I must be wrong, I must. And I wonder if I would throw myself upon the mercy of fate yet again if the opportunity arose just so that I might try to prove it.

A poor hopeless romantic to the end, even if it kills me. I say that with tongue in cheek, but I'm still frightened by the possible truth of that statement. Even if it kills me...

I might have died, perhaps. I wouldn't be the first person to die from fisting, my mom tells me. It can't be anything but a violent act, even when both parties are willing. It's all about power and control—not a desire to hurt per se but a willingness to take that risk.

It's all so easy for me to pass off, always wanting to think the best of people, and even better of the people I care for, but I can still be brought up short if I have to stare it in the face and ask myself, how on earth can I want to be with someone who is willing to take such a risk with my physical well-being, and how can he be trusted with an instrument so delicate as my heart?

I have no good answer, but I still can't bring myself to believe that he would have done it if the circumstances had been different just so, or if he hadn't been drunk, or if he had known what the risks were... And in spite of it all, I still trust him. And beyond that, what I need now more than ever is support, and wouldn't I be a fool to shed myself of my strongest pillar now, because even if I wonder if may crumble at any moment, it has proven still to hold.

The same things I fault my mother for in relationships I can so easily justify to myself, masterful as I am at it. She, who will not leave Rich because things could be so much worse; she, who is afraid because she doesn't trust that better truly exists and doesn't want to be forced to find out the hard way. "What a way to live your life," I tell her, and here I am.

I pretend my life is different because I am not married to him, or to this life. I can still change, and soon enough I will, so why do anything hasty? Why cast him off just to find myself alone when that is the last thing I want right now? Not to mention the practical considerations of finding another roommate or paying twice as much for rent for March, April, and May? All valid points, but none of them the real reason. I'm scared. I don't trust in my ability to meet people, let alone the right people. I can't bear the thought of not having him there to hold me when I need someone's touch. And I can't bear to think that maybe it's been a waste, that I've inadvertantly fallen into some trap, cupid's cruel game that I would fall in love with the first man I laid eyes upon, or in my case rather the first guy who was nice to me.

I'm not ready to give up. I am still an idealist. Like Jewel, "I'm sensitive, and I'd like to stay that way." I am not willing to be the bitter and jaded person that experience has, or should have, made me. I resist! I shall believe in love, even if it kills me.

Listless

Tue, 26 Sep 2006 23:03:39 GMT

For a while now I've been hovering on listless. I haven't gotten too far from it, even when I'm "happy" or should be. I'm afraid that... I don't know. That I'll never move past my mistakes and my self at my worst. I feel trapped in my job yet again...

All I want is to be paid what I'm worth for the work that I do. Is that so much to ask? Instead, I have to spend 7-9 hours at work, whether I'm working or not, to make it worth my while to be here. It would be great if I could just collect $40 an hour while I'm working, and be able to go home when I'm done. I need to go into business for myself.

I plan a year here. It's been nearly five months, which is about the longest I've kept a job ever, frankly. I get bored easily... Lack of stimulation wears me down, when my time is bought by the company I work for, and so cheaply! Yes, I'm getting paid, right now, to write a journal entry, and to be on MySpace, and to work on personal websites. I understand that I'm getting paid for nothing. But it's almost an insult.

I don't really merit more, though. I'm fresh out of college (actually, until December I'm not technically "out"), and young, a whippersnapper. But I know what I'm doing--I grew up in the computer age, surrounded by the technologies I use now on a daily basis. At fourteen I was a Photoshop wiz, and I've only gotten better. I want a real challenge.

Ever since I joined MySpace (and stopped working at hotels...)

Mon, 18 Sep 2006 20:50:38 GMT

I haven't been updating. I've written a few journal entries in my black book, and I've written some MySpace blogs, but it's not the same. My LJ is something else entirely: it's a chronicle of my life, in great detail. It is my external memory—I can consult it for dates that I've forgotten, details that had slipped my mind, and a record of how I felt at certain periods in my life. It is a chronicle of change. I will start writing in it again.

Wed, 26 Apr 2006 03:51:44 GMT

No Peace Corps.

Plans have changed, and now as it stands I'm enrolling in classes for the Fall semester. Finally I'll get that silly piece of paper.

I'm trying to find a place to live now, since I'm never home... I can't wait to get my furniture out of storage again.

My Father's Legacy

Wed, 18 Jan 2006 17:44:04 GMT

Little black books
bursting with secrets
and truth and
lies
Logs and chronicles
ticket stubs
and things to
make you smile
or cry

Piled up in boxes now
with no order to be found
in their white pages
all stacked up
and in black leather bound

Faces

Mon, 09 Jan 2006 09:04:23 GMT

So, I stole this link from hellvoidoid's journal... it matches your face to celebrity faces. I uploaded some pictures of me (go figure!) and it spit back these results--after rejecting some of the photos I uploaded:
Preity Zinta (74%)
Diane Keaton (73%)
Natalie Portman & Kirsten Dunst (72%)
Sylvia Plath (71%)
Grace Kelly & Bette Davis & Winona Ryder (69%)
Julie Christie (68%)
Sharon Stone (67%) and
Gillian Anderson (66%)

I didn't include Britney Spears or Lindsay Lohan or Condaleeza Rice.

For some reason, the program had a lot of trouble finding my face: "Sorry, no faces were detected." And I wanted to shake it and tell it, it's right there, see??? Sure, there are textures in the picture, but none of them looks like a face. And in my personal opinion, my face does. Every time I attempted to show it where my face was, by selecting the area, it would never find any matches for me. Hrmph. It also didn't seem to matter whether the face was the entire image or if it was a small part. The program still couldn't figure it out. It must just be my matchless beauty that throws it all off...

Tue, 27 Dec 2005 23:30:55 GMT

I'm at work as I write this. I'm taking a break from the Sudoku puzzles I normally play online...

I just found out I can sign on to MSN Messenger from this computer. It's bewildering. You see...

We can't change the desktop background or cursors, download so much as a PDF file (!!!), or visit any website blocked by Web(non)Sense--this includes AOL.com, AIM.com, Hotmail.com, and a number of other harmless sites. But it does not filter out eBaum's World, and you can use MSN Messenger... And of course all of the standard Windows games (Solitaire, Minesweeper, Freecell, Pinball) have been removed from the system, but games on the web are accessible, as long as they're Java games that require no download. I can even login to GemStone IV, a text-based online RPG that has an IE interface or a Java interface in addition to the downloadable ones.

Crazy.

Tue, 27 Dec 2005 01:11:46 GMT

You Are a Natural Beauty!

You're the kind of beauty that every guy dreams about...
One that looks good in the morning - without a stich of makeup
That's doesn't mean you're a total hippie chic though
You have style, but for you, style is effortless

What Type of Beauty Are You?

Now that I got that out of the way (since I haven't written in a very long time, I couldn't come up with an opening sentence), how long as it been since I've written? Ah, there we go: a month and change... And two months now since the one before that.

And what's happened? Let's see... I'm still working at Fairfield Resorts, but my last day will be January 2. I don't think I'm moving to LA--no money. If I can save up money, I might go with Audrey to Europe this summer and travel around, all around, for three months with a Eurail pass. Who can say where I'll be in four months, though. I certainly don't know!

I need to figure out a way to meet new people... I've got 22 people in my phone book, and two of those are adult family. I've talked to a total of four of them in the last week, mostly once each, except for Scott. I'm not really sure I want to talk about Scott just now, because he somehow managed to forget to stop by at work on his way to Utah on Christmas. Or call and tell me he wasn't coming. Typical.

Don't get me wrong, he's a nice guy, a sweet guy, and great in bed. He cooks vegan food for me, takes me out sometimes, is fun to be around, and can be thoughtful when he tries. His family is wonderful and loves me, and his mom always fixes something up for me when I go over to their house. He's caring and supportive and has put up with a lot from me. He's intelligent, plays the saxophone and some guitar and bass. He's in a band. He's majoring in chemistry and gives good backrubs.

But he's also extremely unreliable, and unemployed. I feel unappreciated. I feel disrespected. Like I'm something to be considered only when it suits him and there are immediate consequences for ignoring or upsetting me. I deserve better, if not from him than someone else. But I'm not in the mood to go off on that tangent right now. You get the idea.

Anyway. Not for the first time, I wish that I were 21. Actually, that's not what I want. I want a fake ID, or the law to be changed. I'm sure for some people it's a good thing, but really, it's an arbitrary ban, and discriminatory. The fact that age-based laws are foolish and have little basis in or bearing on reality must be apparent to all, but it doesn't directly affect lawmakers and is so much a part of our culture that it would take tremendous force to change. So the law remains, and presents a slight hassle at times. Most of the time it's not a problem, although it does put me in a position at times where I'm paying $5 for one 40, or being heavily taxed by the buyer. Fortunately, it doesn't happen often. It's simply frustrating.

But more to the point (sorry, I forgot where I was going with that), it keeps me from going out to see live music, karaoke, or poolhalls (sort of on the last one--I have a friend-person who would let me in as a favor and if it doesn't jeapordize his job). I'm reading this book on relationships (it was a Christmas present, not something I bought because I thought I needed it, I swear!), and part of the second chapter offers suggestions on where to meet people. The first three are: cocktail parties, nightclubs, and pubs/bars. There are others in there, so I'm not trying to say that my age is what is getting in the way of my ability to meet people. But I do so miss concerts. And I wish I could go to karaoke night, honestly. However, in all fairness, I believe there should be alcohol served at every place that does karaoke, because I know I, for one, will probably never sing karaoke again without at least a few drinks in me. Last place I went (Buffalo Wild Wings outside of Defiance, Ohio, on a business trip this summer), I almost did, but I lost my nerve. But once I've had more than a few drinks, well, let's just say I have been known to take my top off in front of a room full of people I don't know just because it's wet.

Now that I'm done ranting, seriously, I need to find a new way to meet people. I'm too shy at parties (despite anything you may have heard) to meet anyone that I'll ever talk to again or even get a phone number in most cases. I'm not in school anymore. And I've met everyone at work already, at least casually, and spent time outside of work with the three I found interesting. Once, I met a guy at the Rec Center, but once out of how-many-times isn't very good odds. I think I just need to get out more.

Hm, and now that I think about it, not neglect the acquaintances I already have. I wonder how many bridges have crumbled with time... I can think of a number of people I haven't seen for ages whom I would love to spend more time with, if I could only think of what to say or do. Lame excuse, huh?

Wed, 16 Nov 2005 22:27:47 GMT

How much of ourselves can we sacrifice to others before we begin to lose our own identities? How many days just like the last can we live before we get the sense that we’re not really living at all?

I write this after a day at work—just another day, and I spent it doing Sudoku and crossword puzzles between bouts of actual work (painting the break room was the highlight of my day, and perhaps the entire week). It feels as though I spend my time at work waiting for the day to be over, to get on with my life, and then today I left, headed for my supposed “life”, which is much the same.

Sometimes, I feel as though I’m simply going through the motions without experiencing what I’m doing. I spend my time listening to music, working out at the Rec Center, playing pool, drinking with friends, smoking cigarettes, talking to people, watching movies or television, eating, cooking, sleeping, reading, emailing, talking on the phone, working... they're all more or less interchangeable. They're all just killing time. Killing me.

Purity Test score

Mon, 24 Oct 2005 01:15:06 GMT

Last 75 Perverts (at puritytest.org)
1. Jessi 59.8%
2. ...

A year ago (10/28), I was 74.2%. I'm going downhill...

Mon, 24 Oct 2005 00:00:39 GMT

Here I am at work. I'm covering Audrey's shift because she got herself sick with mono or strep, so I've still got four and a half hours to go. I wish I could be on sick leave. I'm losing my mind. That must be it--I mean, sometimes I'll get a deja-vu-esque feeling, something dreamlike and vague, and that I can't place at all. With it comes a dizzying, sick, hot feeling in my gut, like butterflies threatening to take me down. For a moment, I don't know whether I'm going to throw up or faint. Neither happens, and the feeling passes, leaving me feeling unsettled.

Scott and I broke up on Thursday, at 1:00 in the morning, in the parking lot outside his apartment. We both saw it coming, I think. He didn't try to argue with me as I packed up my things in silence. He probably saw it as good riddance--he was right, anyway. I had been quite the bitch. I never bothered trying to hide the fact that I wasn't happy. In the end, it didn't even feel like a relationship. We stopped talking or doing anything fun outside of the bedroom. So I would go out and do my own thing, with Audrey and, inevitably, with other guys. I started indulging my other interests, the ones not shared by Scott (for instance, going out, like to Solid's and Ponga's; and taking whirlwind trips to Vegas and L.A.). I started enjoying the attention I got when I went out without him, and resenting that, after a year and a half, he knew me too well to care. Frustrated by the law of diminishing returns, I started putting more effort into everything else than into our relationship. I changed.

That's probably the biggest piece of it--I changed. I am not the shy, quiet, modest girl I was when we met. I'm not the good girl I was then, which actually was largely his doing. He gave me so much, really. And he gave me the confidence to become what I am, and I let it go to my head. I miss my best friend, and it's only been two days. But I've been missing it longer than that. Ah, well. It's been a wild two days.

Friday night I hung out with Audrey and Nick at Ponga's before heading to Bayfield to meet up with Ben and some friends of his. There are elements of that night that are rather hazy. I crashed there and woke up, took a couple shots of tequila, and headed into work at noon. Audrey called in sick, so I had three hours to kill, and then I worked from 3:00 until 9:30. And then an expensive night of partying with Shane, and Trivial Pursuit.

I need to retake the purity test.

Mon, 03 Oct 2005 01:48:43 GMT

I've never relished and enjoyed my life as much as I do now, but I've never been so miserable and hopeless. When I go out, I party hard--and, miraculously, shyness disappears, I can talk to anyone, and if I don't like what they're saying I can move on to someone else. I can attract and seduce: I am aware of myself, my looks, and my effect on others. I find myself able to do anything I please; I am confident and powerful. I stand tall, bestow my smile like a favor, and draw attention where I want it drawn. I don't have to do anything I don't want to do.
But sometimes I find wanting to do things I never imagined I would. Don't ask me about the two guys in the bathroom because I don't remember it. I can only speculate, and be horrified. I always end up paying the price for these highs when I come down, and crash and burn. I wake up in the grip of a crippling depression that leaves me all but unable to move, think, or feel. I am seized by guilt and self-loathing, and a pall of hopelessness settles over me, sucking my will to live. I don't even have the strength to try and fight it off. I just give in, and all I am able to do is cry. Why can't I just get hangovers, like everyone else?

I woke up feeling that way this morning. Actually, I didn't wake up until 12:36, so afternoon. I was supposed to be at work at noon, so I as I saw it, in my depressed state, the damage had already been done. I may as well not go. Besides, if I were to go, I would have to take off sick. So instead, I sat against the wall and stared at my toes for an hour, numb. Eventually, I mustered enough ambition to go to my car and retrieve that information about bipolar disorder that I printed last night, and sit on the couch and read it. It made me cry. This information, from the National Institute of Mental Health, estimated that 1 percent of adults suffer from bipolar disorder. Why me? This is a serious illness, and if I admit my craziness, then who could ever love me or accept me? Isn't my best bet just to ignore it when it doesn't get in my way, and try to ride it out as best I can when it does? Its section on getting help just made me feel even more hopeless--evidently it will only get worse if I don't. I truly believe this thing is going to be the death of me. The only thing I'm thankful for is that I can trust in that the chemical imbalance that makes me feel so bad will eventually abate and pick me up if I can just stick it out. However, it will always be back, and that thought haunts me.

When I finished reading the article, I sat outside and stared at nothing. I got to thinking, then, that I finally understand my father. I am him. Knowing this, I wish he were here. He would understand. I wish I could talk to him.

My life, in summary

Tue, 30 Aug 2005 23:52:07 GMT

Problems, in no particular order:
-diet (since I eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner at work, I'm not planning healthy meals for myself and end up eating junk food, or just the same thing for all three meals)
-lack of sleep (between 9:30 p.m. and midnight is the only leisure time I have (and the only time I have with Scott), so I rarely go to bed before 12:30, and then I wake up at 5:30 or 6:00 a.m.)
-lack of time to unwind/relax/be irresponsible
-lack of time with Scott
-loss of intimacy with Scott
-lack of exercise (no time)
-lack of money (despite working 59 hours per week, my paychecks are not as big as I would like--but more to the point, I don't have ready money stockpiled, and I'm living paycheck-to-paycheck)
-abundance of stress
-envy (of others with more freedom)
-dissatisfaction
-lack of confidence
-my depression
-the squalor I live in (filthy car, filthy bedroom, messy house because I don't have time to clean up)
-lack of a creative or even productive outlet--I feel as though my time is completely wasted, as I get paid to sit and watch the hours, days, weeks of my life drift away without accomplishing anything lasting
-lack of fulfillment/challenge at work or, really, anywhere in my life
-housing

This last is perhaps the biggest worry of all: the current situation with me at Scott's house is only temporary--he's going to move out at some point, which means I will too. As I see it, I have two choices: get my own place, or move back with my parents and take over Daryl's old room. Without Scott to help me make the payments, I'll give up on the idea of buying a house or condo. I would rather move back in with my parents and save the money. But then I would never see Scott--I see him little enough as it is, even with me living with him. I just can't see that working out for us, and with our relationship as strained as it already is, that would be the end of it.

And that would solve some of my problems--I wouldn't need to be jealous that everyone else gets more time with him than I do, or worry about the growing distance between us. I would have more time for myself, which might solve some of my other problems, and I would be able to save more money both by not paying rent or mortgage and by not going out at all. Maybe I would even go up to working six days a week. Save up $1000 per month for a year or a year and a half and I'd have between $17,000 and $23,000 to use as a down-payment for a house, so my mortgage payments would be lower, so that I would be able to afford it on my own. (A down-payment of $20,000 would lower my monthly mortgage payments by $120, for a total savings of $43,000 off the total mortage, or $23,000 savings overall.)

But I would be on my own. I might not even want to move out at that point, to live in a whole big house by myself.

What would be ideal for me would be to get a house, and roommates, and get settled, and once I know what my monthly payments will be, start looking for another job, something 9-to-5, maybe, regular daytime hours, not more than eight per day (none of this 13.5 hours per day with another 1.75 in commuting), and weekends off. How nice that would be! That would give me more time: more time to sleep, more time with Scott, more time to relax, to cook, to exercise. And making improvements to my house, or perhaps gardening, would give me a creative outlet and make me feel as though I were accomplishing something.

Now, each of those two scenarios has its merit, though, given the choice, I would take the second. Scott and I will have to have a serious conversation about it tonight--we began it this afternoon, at lunch, but not until about five minutes before I had to leave for work (I ended up ten minutes late). This is serious. This is a life-altering decision. This is a critical point in my life.

Honestly, I just haven't felt that close to Scott since he left for his trip to Oregon. Things happened while we were there, and things have happened since (different things, mind you, but they compound each other), so that it just doesn't feel the same. It's not the same. There are no fireworks, and hardly any sparks, even when we make love. I thought things would be different when he came back...

Now, the other side, so I don't get all depressed...

Good things:
-my job(s)
-having enough money to get by without going into debt
-having a place to sleep, even if it is only temporary
-I get along with most of the people I work with
-I made friends with one of the girls at work, and we have one day off in common
-I'm going to L.A. for two nights with Audrey a week!
-having good credit because I *do* work hard and always pay my bills on time or early
-having a pretty good relationship with my family
-Scott's family likes me
-Barbara keeps her kitchen stocked for me (including delicious vegan peach pies and homemade bread)
-I'm lucky that it's even a possibility for me to buy a house
-having a nice car that runs (even if it sometimes takes a few tries to start it)
-having nice clothes
-getting my belly pierced and my tattoo, finally
-being lucky at thrift stores with clothes and jewelry
-my mom still owes me a birthday present! Either furniture or some toy to use outside, like a river raft or a windsurfer or kayak
-the nice birthday sentiments I got at Fairfield--a signed card (my first ever), a cool-looking houseplant, and a balloon (another first)
-my good health
-maybe the medication will help

Wow...

Wed, 24 Aug 2005 04:43:23 GMT

I just stepped outside, ran to my car, to roll a cigarette and then smoke it. But then, by the time I got to my car (about ten seconds after stepping outside), I was shaking uncontrollably, teeth chattering like nothing (sucks because I've got a toothache that will require a root canal). It's not even that cold, but the chill just went straight to my bones.

Wed, 24 Aug 2005 04:06:28 GMT

Candy Kiss
You scored 61% Technique, 47% Timing, and 62% Passion!

Judging solely on your answers: Yummy ... My favorite bite size candy!

Only thing is it hard to have just one. Comparison to your kissing style is enough sweetness and very delightful.

Only with you lower "timing" score ... "We Want More!"

*nods*

Technique: It shows you seem to have a true talent.

Timing: Shows maybe you 'give-up' to soon. (no, not give 'IT' up ... gee)

Passion: A really nice amount of passion, mixed together with your skill = "HOT!"

Yes, the "Candy Kiss" just like the chocolate treat, is just that ... "A TREAT!"

You know while having the first one, you want moreeeeeee.

(that's why the bag of candy has just enough, but only enough to make ya go get some more)

You seeing the similarities here?

Keep the kiss and miss thing going ... they will keep coming back for more!

Your perfect kisser/partner should be:

"Candy kisser" for the obvious reasons. But mix it up with a "Kissing Bandit" would make for a interesting mix.

Your exact opposite:

"Prudish Kisser''They could use your help. (feeling SWEET?) *wink*

My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 14% on Technique

You scored higher than 6% on Timing

You scored higher than 54% on Passion

Link: The Can KISSING style get you SEX Test written by dahippy on OkCupid Free Online Dating

Wed, 24 Aug 2005 03:06:21 GMT

WEB PROGRAMMING GOD
You scored 92% on HTML Knowledge!

YOU ARE ALL THAT IS GEEK! you probably hand-write web pages using notepad, not that shitty FrontPage. You probably at LEAST -understand-, if not use the more advanced parts of webprogramming, such as javascript or PHP, you are allmighty, hey! go make a web page stating that your best friend is gay! and upload it!

My test tracked 1 variable How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 67% on HTML Knowledge

Link: The HTML Knowledge Test written by mrtroy on Ok Cupid

Wed, 24 Aug 2005 02:58:37 GMT

Reluctant Actor
You scored 84% Knowledgability, 72% Potential, and 13% Attitude!

You have a great temperment, and you know your stuff. You've probably had to work very hard to hone your talent (however minimal it may have been when you first begain) into what it is today. However, you can always improve. Your work as an artist is never finished! There is no way of measuring how much success and fame you will have, but if you continue on the path you're on right now, you shouldn't have a problem finding work. Thanks for taking my test, I hope you enjoyed it!

My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 66% on Knowledgability

You scored higher than 33% on Potential

You scored higher than 33% on Attitude

Link: The Everyone's An Actor Test written by Struck22 on OkCupid Free Online Dating

It's my birthday! And I'm at work...

Wed, 24 Aug 2005 02:52:39 GMT

Spelling Nazi
You scored 101 Spelling smarts!

Okay so you've either cheated, or you know all the vocabulary rules by now. "I before E, except after c." bla bla bla. Great job. You know how to spell, and you might be a bit anal retentive about it too. Not a bad thing mind you, but I get picked on for it. An answer key is what you're after? http://quizanswerkey.blogspot.com/

My test tracked 1 variable How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 99% on Spelling smarts

Link: The Everyday Spelling Test written by charlifeathers on Ok Cupid

Sat, 13 Aug 2005 00:35:13 GMT

I'm so tired. I wish I were dead. I wish Scott were back. I wish I didn't have to work anymore. I wish I didn't have to work forever.

I'm simply not strong enough for this world.

Yes. I am a terrible person. But at least I freely admit it.

Fri, 12 Aug 2005 16:41:50 GMT

Woke up this morning at 7:45. Supposed to be at work at 7:00.

See, I cried all night to Jenny and Sean, then I thought I'd take a half-hour nap and wake up when my cell phone alarm went off. Things didn't go quite as planned.

Back up, hold on, wait a sec. Tracy and Jenny wouldn't let me drive home. First I was going to take Landon and Luke back home (except not home, to Scott's house, because they wanted to sleep, and I had invited them there in the first place)--I wasn't even going to drive. Plus I had to let Laddie in. And Tracy took my keys.

And I fought them. It wasn't as though I needed to go home for any reason. I just thought, "What the fuck do they care anyway?" and I told them so, over and over. Because really. It's not as though I'm good friends with them or anything. I still hold that the only reason they wouldn't let me leave is because they were worried more about what I would do to myself than what would happen to me on the road.

Because I was sobbing uncontrollably. Crying for hours on end. "Psycho" must have crossed someone's mind last night, but of course they couldn't say it, for risk of upsetting me more. I kept saying, "Just give me my keys and let me leave and I promise I'll never bother you again."

So maybe I shouldn't have driven (and don't worry, I didn't). Maybe I've got a not-so-secret death wish--that's entirely possible. And I don't think people should care about me. I do my damnedest to push them away whenever I'm at risk of getting close. And only those who refuse to back down ever stick by me.

Which, thus far, has been pretty much no one. I'm not used to having friends. I've got my family, and I've got Scott. And for any flaws he has, that's one thing Scott's got that I can't forget: he's there for me, he has seen me at my worst, and he has refused to leave me down.

And now Tracy and Jenny and Sean. Anyone else would have given up, and Tracy, in fact, did. With me fighting them every step, and no reason for them to fight back anyway, they should, logically, have said, "Good riddance! Get the hell out."

Why they didn't I don't know, but here I am, at work, tired, bored.

Fri, 12 Aug 2005 01:52:12 GMT

Something is wrong with the world.

It all started yesterday afternoon. Or perhaps before, but it came to a head yesterday.

So let me start out with, there are these three housekeeper boys who work at Cascade Village. They're all in high school, ages 15-18. And they would often flirt with me at work--mostly in the way they said my name, "Bye Jessi!", each day as they were leaving.

Well yesterday afternoon, they left after work, after surfing the web for a while and showing me the cool/weird things they found there, which I started by introducing them to eBaum's last week. Anyway. They're gone, but they come back a couple hours later, ostensibly to use the pool.

They never actually make it to the pool, instead surfing the web some more while I chat on AIM Express with Will Gothica. The boys and I are teasing each other, and Landon is tickling me and pulling me onto his lap after stealing my chair... a snapshot of the evening, not necessarily one moment in particular, though perhaps many. At any rate, we ended up exchanging phone numbers, and they waited until I got off work and I gave them a ride home (back to the campsite where they're staying until they go back to school in New Mexico next week or so).

I had seen Fatal Attraction the night before (freaky movie). I know how easy it would be to take (or follow) him home and have a turbid affair. Not that I would, but I was aware that I could, and that he was trying to seduce me, and his prying questions about my sexuality were meant to feel me out--I was also aware that I did nothing to discourage him. But I dropped him and his friend off at the campsite with a hug and headed of to Tracy and Jenny's for the party they invited me to while I was at work.

Then at Tracy and Jenny's... I don't know if it's my new hair color, the clothes I was wearing, or perhaps the pink heels, but the boys (of which there were many) were all over me. I had lengthy conversations with at least three of them and received backrubs from several (I wasn't the only one getting backrubs, mind you), and there are some incriminating pictures (mostly with Tracy, though; plus one of my crotch under my skirt). Still, nothing *happened*, but, well, suffice to say, things happened that I wasn't accustomed to. This isn't supposed to happen. All my life, men have ignored me. What the fuck is going on?

Well now.

Thu, 11 Aug 2005 04:35:40 GMT

I worked this morning at 7:45 after a whopping two and a half hours of sleep. After many cups of coffee, my pain medication, and penicillin, I wasn't feeling very well. In fact, I felt rather on the verge of collapse.

So when I got home at 1:30 this afternoon, I took off my clothes, curled up under the covers, and promptly passed out. I didn't move a muscle until 9:00 p.m. It was, well, I was about to say glorious, but not that. Perhaps more like, absolutely vital. As stupid as it sounds, I wasn't sure I was going to wake up at all.

Now, the only bad thing about all this is that my aunt wanted a website done today. Fine, I was planning to do it after I woke up. But when I woke up and called her, at 10:00 p.m. Chicago time, the phone wouldn't ring. Five minutes later, the phone would ring 10 times. ::sigh:: I hope I'm not in trouble.

Sun, 07 Aug 2005 18:41:06 GMT

Amidst all the excitement and dread about the impending "back to school", I find myself filled with a profound sense of emptiness when I think about it. I will not be going back to school. I will still (probably) be working the same jobs, same schedule, two months from now--I'm already well on my way to getting settled into my own little routine now, seeing the few people that I see anymore here and there around their odd summer schedules while they anxiously wait to resume the school year.

But that will all change for them come fall, when they will be back to normal and regular, or what passes for such with them. And I will still be here.

I find myself wondering, "Is this all there is?" I have nothing to look forward to. The same thing day in and day out, with different faces. This, for the first time in my life, is not temporary. These is no way out.

I got my navel pierced yesterday. And my tattoo will be done sometime in the next couple of weeks, just in time for my birthday. I'm looking into buying some real estate, probably a condo on one of the DMR properties, maybe, or something along those lines. I'm looking now, but I think I'll have to hold off until I have some money to put down. That will be a while at my rate of pay. For the moment, I'm still living with Scott, or, for the time being, at his house, without him, while his family is in Oregon. I should throw a party so I'm not so lonely there. But I probably won't.