On My (lack of) a Love Life

I’ve posted about this a few times since getting divorced. It’s not that much seeing as I still don’t blog that often, but it’s still kind of embarrassing to me. Still, though, this is my blog and I can post whatever the fuck I want on it. 

I was with the Actor since I was a youngin’ in high school. I haven’t been single very long since then, about a year now almost. A year ago I was crying on my mom’s couch telling her “I think I’m going to get divorced” and she was great at holding back the I-told-you-so’s. And I have very much enjoyed my almost year alone. But I still miss the idea of having someone to be intimate with. I’m not talking sexually, though that is nice, but I mean someone you can show your entire self to and enjoy their entire self. That silly you you do in front of the mirror or when you’re home alone. It’s nice to share that with someone. Right now I just have my cat Luna who is more or less irritated by my true self and prefers it when I sit quietly and binge watch Netflix while drinking an entire bottle of wine or 6-pack of beer. I usually pass out and she has a warm, quiet place to sleep. Until I wake up. She’s furry and cute but we don’t exactly have the best conversations. 

“Are you hungry?” MEOW. “What did you do today?” MEOW. “Did you miss me?” JUST FEED ME!

Still, though, I’m not really up for actively pursuing anything at the moment. I’ve got plans for the next year that require absolute flexibility, and Luna is already enough of a challenge. I want to move out of state, preferrably to California though the low rent costs have me considering Las Vegas or the surrounding area right now. I want to quit my job and really pursue something I actually enjoy and that doesn’t turn my soul an even darker shade of black than I thought existed (customer service is a killer). 

But I haven’t given up yet on the idea of love, and maybe that’s foolish and naive of me, and maybe one day I’ll learn the hard truth but for now I’m happy believeing that maybe one day I can find someone I can be happy with and love until I breathe my last breath. 

I’ll be honest and say I would regret it if I died having never dated anyone after my ex husband, but, then again, I would be dead. What would I care? 

Maybe one day I’ll start a post with the cliche “I’ve met someone,” and maybe it’ll be several posts, or maybe just a few, or one. That’s the fun of life, though, I suppose, the adventure in all of the relationships you have with people. Right now I’m enjoying the relationship I have with myself, but I look forward to the day when I have one with a special someone else. 



Today is International Day Against Homophobia, which I did not know existed until this morning, but was happy to find out that it did.


I do not care if you don’t like it. We are not asking you to like it. We are asking you to keep your dislike of it to yourself and let the LGBTQ community do whatever the fuck they want because they have been letting you do that for far too long. It is not “wrong” and it is not “a crime against nature” and it is not “a crime against god.” There is no child alive that would ask about homosexuals and be disgusted by the definition unless they have already been brainwashed into thinking it is bad. And maybe I’m sounding a little too harsh here, but the other side has been harsh, too. I do not care if you think marriage should be between a man and a woman only. Guess what? You don’t get to make that decision. You do not have the authority to deny happiness to thousands of people just because you think their relationships are “icky.”

I came out on here a little while ago as bisexual, and ever since I came out to the Actor and on here I have actually felt so much more free. I can be 100% who I am and I absolutely love it. I don’t have to hide anything or feel bad for feeling the way I do.


As a bisexual, I realize that there is a lot of biphobia and denial of bisexuality across both the hetero and homosexual communities. It blurs the lines between straight and gay. There is no longer a definitive line separating the two if we acknowledge that bisexuality is a thing, and I realize that can make people feel uncomfortable, but we all need to feel uncomfortable. That’s where progress happens. It is not okay to just refuse to accept it. It is not okay to bully or discriminate anyone in the LGBTQ community, not just bisexuals. It is not okay to hold signs on street corners telling us our sexuality is a sin. It is not okay to hold a sign on a street corner on Mother’s Day that says, “Thank your mom today for not being gay.” (x) I cannot stop those people from disliking it and thinking it is wrong, but it is not okay to push their close-minded views on us. I would like it if they could accept it, but if they cannot they need to keep their feelings about it to themselves.

Today is about erasing homophobia and giving people in the LGBTQ community the same rights as straight people. It’s about stopping the silence. It’s about giving us a voice. We are all people. We are all capable of love, and who we love doesn’t matter as long as we’re happy. I don’t care who you love. You don’t care who I love. But I do care that you are happy in your relationship and that you are able to marry, to have a job, to have a voice, to be able to walk down the street without fear. Love a man. Love a woman. Love anyone. Live. Love. Be happy. And be able to do all that without discrimination.

Losing your Hope

The Actor and I went to see The Amazing Spider-Man 2 last night. It was incredible. Definitely better than Winter Soldier by a long shot. And if you haven’t seen it yet and want see it, then just know that it was amazing and beautiful and wonderful and go see it and then stop reading because this isn’t a movie review blog and there are spoilers ahead.

*SPOILER WARNING! You have been warned. Read at your own risk.*

I knew what was going to happen within the first few minutes of the movie when Peter is on the front of a police car taking on his cell phone with Gwen and sees her dad in the police car next to him. And then when they had their little confrontation outside of the Chinese restaurant where they broke up. I knew it and I sat there and gasped which probably confused anyone around me who heard. The Actor knows by now that I can figure this stuff out within the first 20 minutes of the movie and is (hopefully) used to my gasping so he didn’t seem phased. They establish in the film that Spider Man gives people hope, but Gwen is his hope, and in the final scene when Harry as the Green Goblin comes out to kill Peter, he takes Gwen, drops her into a clock tower, and then he and Peter fight while Gwen quite literally dangles by a thread. The thread snaps. Peter jumps and in a painful slow-motion shot of the web reaching for Gwen we see it. It attaches to Gwen just inches above the ground. The force pulls her chest upward, causing her head to continue on its downward journey before snapping back up with the rest of her body. In that moment we know she is gone. Peter climbs down to her as her body hangs just a foot or less off the floor, and there he holds her in his arms, begging for her to wake up, but she doesn’t. Now, Andrew Garfield is an amazing actor. He’s absolutely brilliant, and this movie showcased a lot of his talents. Being able to reach down inside himself to bring out real, total anguish is one them.

And I cried along with him. Not like movie crying where you tear up and you get the lump in your throat and maybe your nose runs a little because, hey, that was sad, but it’s only a movie.

No. This was like full on sobbing. It took all my strength not start bawling. I had the gasping breathing going on and the tears running down my cheeks, the whole package except with volume on 1 because no one else was that sad.

And why was I that sad? Because I live with the fear of that situation happening to me every day. I wake up in the middle of the night and my first instinct is to make sure the Actor is still breathing. He’s perfectly healthy. There is no logical reason to do that, but I do. At least once a week this happens to me. And when he comes home late and I couldn’t get a hold of him, for those minutes between when he should be home and when he actually gets home I literally cannot function. I can sit and I can try to breathe, but that is it. I feel the sadness, the fear, the worry, deep down inside me and it holds onto me and will not let go. If it’s at night and he’s not coming home until after I’m supposed to be asleep for work tomorrow I can count on being tired at work the next day because there is no sleeping until I know that he is safe at home. We live in a stupidly tiny town. No where in this town does the speed limit go above 25 mph. The last time someone got shot was last year and we’re pretty sure it was drug related, but that was it. In the 2 years I’ve lived here there has been like 1 death not from natural causes. The town is so white and conservative there is basically nothing to worry about at all. But I do. (I didn’t mean the white and conservative bit to be racist to POC because I am one and that’s just stupid. I mean it because they’re all really old guys who probably all own guns and don’t hold much intelligence, but enough to not go shooting college students. I mean the only thing we really have to worry about here is stupidity.)

I cried because I understood Peter’s pain, and I am so afraid of that pain becoming my reality.

They resolve it on a happy note. Aunt May is packing up Uncle Ben’s things and tells Peter it’s not getting rid of it, just finding a better place for it, and he packs up his father’s stuff and Gwen’s pictures except for one which he puts on his desk, and in the final minutes of the movie he returns to work as Spider Man after a five month mourning period. So, from what we can tell, he does move on, and there are rumors that now they’re going to bring in Mary Jane for the 3rd and 4th movies, but I cannot imagine ever moving on and finding my Mary Jane if anything should ever happen to the Actor. He is my hope, and you take that away from me and I will have nothing left.

I am a Work of Art (part 1)

(this will be a multi-part series discussing how I’ve come to positively view and love my body, and things associated with this idea)


When I got my first tattoo back in November I was so excited! It was new, and it stung, but it was awesome. A couple years ago I never would have thought I’d get a tattoo. I thought they were stupid and that I would regret it later on. The truth was that I only thought that because I lived with my mom who thought that.

Needless to say she wasn’t happy when I told her I got my tattoo. I hadn’t told her, and wasn’t really ever planning on it, which was problematic considering it was on my wrist. She sent me an article about how “tattoos give you cancer” the day I ended up telling her about it, and I replied with an article about how air gives you cancer. I just really didn’t care and I was a little upset. Ever since she’s been telling me not to get too many, specifically using the phrase, “Don’t be like Miley Cyrus.”

Yes, because getting tattoos means I’ll be like Miley Cyrus. I wouldn’t be upset if I was. I love her, and I think she is great.

Well, now it’s February, and I’ve been planning more tattoos ever since they bandaged up my first one. I’ve filed my taxes and should be getting my return soon, and while the majority of that money will be going to a trip to Disneyland, some of it will be going toward a new tattoo.

I don’t view tattoos the way I used to since moving out and being able to follow my own mind instead of my mother’s. I also don’t think that there needs to be a message, or deep and meaningful point behind every tattoo. If you like that enough to get it on your body then go for it! It is your body. And this is my body. I take care of it. It’s strong and thriving and I am my own canvas.

letitgotattoo copy

One of these designs is going to be my next one on my right forearm, and I’m going to amend it to just say, “Let it go. That perfect girl is gone. Let the storm rage on.” Because the light of day is irrelevant and the cold is currently bothering me very much. I’m thinking either the 2nd or 3rd design. Which do you like better?

I am so glad that I’ve come to this point in my life where I can accept my body and who I am. I never thought I would be here.

Got a Secret, Can You Keep It?

Day 4: Write about one of your biggest secrets.

I had to think about this one because I’m so open with the Actor, and I don’t feel like I’m keeping any secrets from anyone. I mean, my family doesn’t know I’m bisexual, but they don’t have to know. That’s not their business, and I’ve already found the love of my life, so that doesn’t really matter. But that’s probably the only thing I’m keeping from people, and just them because of the previously stated reason, and they also think that bisexuality isn’t real. I just don’t want to deal with that. Otherwise I’m a fairly open person. No shame. I am myself.

But I guess one thing that people don’t know about me is that I’m not as quiet and well mannered as I look. I have good posture. My default facial expression is pretty bland, but it’s not angry or anything. My closest friend next to the Actor knows I’m not Ms. Perfect, but no one at my uni does. A lot of people apologize for cursing around me. They don’t even know. At a party a couple weeks ago I made a comment that I thought was pretty chill for me, but this guy turned around and looked really shocked. “I didn’t know you were like that,” they said, or something to that effect. It was a while ago, I don’t remember. My response was to laugh and smile and say, “You don’t know me at all.” I am so many things. I’m not just my disorders, I’m not some prim and proper girl. I’m definitely not as I appear.


I definitely do love how I look, though. I love my body. I love my features. I love my personality. I love me. Honestly. So, I guess that’s my “secret” or something. I’m not as nice as I look. I can be, but that doesn’t mean I am. Kinda lame for a secret.

Also, that is the Actor in the background putting up our Christmas tree.


It’s tall and skinny and we love it. Happy last night of Hanukkah!

Say “I Love You”

I lost a friend today… Er, yesterday… Whenever it happened…

I had kind of lost touch with him. He’d moved to a different state, but I’d sent him a few messages. Just not in the last month or two. And he was closer with my husband than he had been with me when we went to school together. He was a very kind, funny, creative man with a huge heart and some people couldn’t see that, but I was and am proud to have called him my friend.

This is the first person that I actually knew and was around to die in my lifetime. I’ve had animals die, but never a person that I knew. A girl I saw around school but didn’t know really died my freshman year in high school which still hit me, but not as hard as this. It just reminded how many people one person can touch in their lifetime, how fragile we are, and how important it is to tell people how much they mean to you because no one really knows how long we have with each other.

I don’t know why we don’t tell people, “Hey, you’re really kind hearted and awesome.” Why do we only talk about people to other people? We need to let people know that there are people that care for them so that whenever they pass they’ll go knowing just how much they meant to everyone. If we have something nice to say about someone we shouldn’t just say it when we’re telling other people about them, but also to them.

So say, “I love you,” and, “I appreciate you,” while you can, and don’t take any time you have with anyone for granted.

Progress in Many Areas

This weekend will mark 3 weeks until the wedding. What? Yeah, and I still have a ton to do. At this point I’m like, “what can we get away with not doing? Do we really need menu cards?” I decided no. If they pick what they want before they come why would they need a menu?


(you can view Trial #1 HERE)

I like this makeup much better than the first time. I went out and bought a bunch today. Geez makeup is expensive! Ignore my weird smile. I promise I smile better than that. The curls turned out well, but I pulled out about ten strands, which I know isn’t a lot, but it still freaked me out. It makes me want to sleep in pin curls and just leave them in until it’s ceremony time instead of using heat. I think this is it, though. I don’t think I need a third trial. I think I’m ready to apply this stuff the day-of and walk down the aisle.

The end of the quarter is near and that means final projects. I just finished my last art project before my final for Design 170 and I’m really proud of it. I’ll probably feel different after the critique tomorrow, but for now I like it. We were supposed to show the two sides of our personality (first of all, stupid assignment. You have many sides, not just two.) and so I took my signature purple butterfly, added some yellow just for contrast and composition sake, and then the red and black on the outside. I’ll explain the butterfly later. I don’t think I ever have on here.


It’s almost the end of Week 7 in my Slim, Strong, and Sexy program by thisfitchick and I forgot to take pics on Monday so I took them… yesterday? Yes, yesterday. DSCN0176DSCN0177

They’re overly bright for some reason, so they don’t look as good as they could. I would have taken them in the bathroom but people were sitting against my door so I was kind of trapped in my room. I swear, though, I’ve gained so much definition in the past 7 weeks it’s incredible. I’ll be lifting and be like, “damn, where did those come from?” I’m usually the only girl in there and I wonder what all the guys think if they take the time to notice me. I even lift heavier than a bunch of them. That’s a great feeling right there. Doing this program has given me so much self confidence and body-love. Just noticing that I can lift these things and get stronger is great. I appreciate all that my body can do so much more now. Lifting heavy is not only helping my body physically, but mentally as well. I haven’t had one serious ED related thought in a long time. Sometimes I’ll be like, “oh no, I ate that. I’m gonna get fat!” but I get over it almost instantly. I had that one bad day, but that’s been it. If I break down it’s only for a moment and then I’m back on my feet. It makes sense I would break down sometimes. I’ve got work, finals, and the wedding. It’s pretty stressful, but I know I’m handling it a heck of a lot better than I would otherwise. Some people find comfort in yoga. I find comfort in lifting.

I’m glad I finally found something. I used to read about how yoga helped people recover and I never got it.