Only wife of mine is a life of crime.
Jun. 6th, 2003 10:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
raybearIt's Friday and I should maybe feel more relieved. I am, I just don't necessarily feel it. Maybe because this morning I puked up all the coffee I drank onto the ground of the parking garage while Sophie looked on incredulously. At one point I thought "hmm, maybe I should call in sick today" but here I am. Drinking a vitamin!water and half of some chocolate graham cracker biscuit.
I spent much of the month of January and February puking in the back of the apartment building, like some strange form of morning sickness that came from the conception to a big ball of stress and anxiety. I'm not sure if the proper metaphor at this point is to say I gave birth to it or aborted it. Though I'm leaning towards the latter if perhaps I'm puking again because I've conceived again.
Alright, let's get off this road and write about it in a different way.
In some ways I'm glad to have physical manifestations that are no longer in my chest. I breathe deeply in attempts to spread out the anxiety, trying to allow only small amounts to my throat and neck to keep from choking on air. If pushing it down to my stomach means I can vomit it out of my body, I'm willing to put up with the burn in my throat. What all this means to me is that I'm misaligned. I've suspected this all week, and last night was another reminder when I couldn't even seem to make my body work correctly while jacking off.
I start with my head. Rubbing the top and working around the sides and to my face. That's really where all this trouble began anyway. It seems to be working pretty well. Next I might move down to the neck and shoulders and chest. Earlier this week I was considering the option of receiving a flogging on back and chest, a way of bringing the pain to the surface, possibly drawing out the internal tension and weight that presses into my heart. But for now I think it will work better if gently coaxed out, like when the dog hides under the bed.
I'm sure this all might look strange to my co-workers, seeing me fondle my head and torso while sitting at my desk and typing. But frankly half of my co-workers are out and the others are running around trying to get a mailing done by today. So I think I'll escape notice for the most part.
In Other NewsTM, Damon and I managed to put on the front license plate of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
limenal's car, as well as replace the windshield wiper fluid. But the back license plate screws are super rusted on, to the point that they distinegrate and strip when a screwdriver is used. We went to Ace Hardware to find a chemical aid, but even the employee there (and these guys know everything!) wasn't sure what to recommend when the screw itself is rusted but not hole. I bought some (toxic) chemical, but it didn't seem to achieve much except make my hands black. My next plan of action is to screw the new plate on top of the old one (using the bottom holes, since the top ones are occupied with the corroded screws), though I need to buy larger size bolts today. In the meantime, the plate is propped up in the back window with a sticker that expires in three weeks. Um, yeah. At this time I will refrain from commenting on how the new plates sat in the apartment for almost exactly a year. I told Damon that about her getting pulled over recently and the cop mentioning that her plates are _really_ expired. He asked if she got a ticket. I said, "no, of course not! She's white and a female..... I'm just sayin'."
Afterwards we watched the movie Scotland, PA with the director's commentary. Once again, my mad crush on Maura Tierney has been rekindled. Her husband is the director and screenwriter of the movie and he talked about all the lines in the movie that she composed herself, including "fuck fuckity fuck" and "If you could go buy us a couple beers, bring them back to the table and then walk away, that would would just be a slice of heaven."
I really want to be home right now. Or at least in a bed in someone's home.
I spent much of the month of January and February puking in the back of the apartment building, like some strange form of morning sickness that came from the conception to a big ball of stress and anxiety. I'm not sure if the proper metaphor at this point is to say I gave birth to it or aborted it. Though I'm leaning towards the latter if perhaps I'm puking again because I've conceived again.
Alright, let's get off this road and write about it in a different way.
In some ways I'm glad to have physical manifestations that are no longer in my chest. I breathe deeply in attempts to spread out the anxiety, trying to allow only small amounts to my throat and neck to keep from choking on air. If pushing it down to my stomach means I can vomit it out of my body, I'm willing to put up with the burn in my throat. What all this means to me is that I'm misaligned. I've suspected this all week, and last night was another reminder when I couldn't even seem to make my body work correctly while jacking off.
I start with my head. Rubbing the top and working around the sides and to my face. That's really where all this trouble began anyway. It seems to be working pretty well. Next I might move down to the neck and shoulders and chest. Earlier this week I was considering the option of receiving a flogging on back and chest, a way of bringing the pain to the surface, possibly drawing out the internal tension and weight that presses into my heart. But for now I think it will work better if gently coaxed out, like when the dog hides under the bed.
I'm sure this all might look strange to my co-workers, seeing me fondle my head and torso while sitting at my desk and typing. But frankly half of my co-workers are out and the others are running around trying to get a mailing done by today. So I think I'll escape notice for the most part.
In Other NewsTM, Damon and I managed to put on the front license plate of
limenal's car, as well as replace the windshield wiper fluid. But the back license plate screws are super rusted on, to the point that they distinegrate and strip when a screwdriver is used. We went to Ace Hardware to find a chemical aid, but even the employee there (and these guys know everything!) wasn't sure what to recommend when the screw itself is rusted but not hole. I bought some (toxic) chemical, but it didn't seem to achieve much except make my hands black. My next plan of action is to screw the new plate on top of the old one (using the bottom holes, since the top ones are occupied with the corroded screws), though I need to buy larger size bolts today. In the meantime, the plate is propped up in the back window with a sticker that expires in three weeks. Um, yeah. At this time I will refrain from commenting on how the new plates sat in the apartment for almost exactly a year. I told Damon that about her getting pulled over recently and the cop mentioning that her plates are _really_ expired. He asked if she got a ticket. I said, "no, of course not! She's white and a female..... I'm just sayin'."Afterwards we watched the movie Scotland, PA with the director's commentary. Once again, my mad crush on Maura Tierney has been rekindled. Her husband is the director and screenwriter of the movie and he talked about all the lines in the movie that she composed herself, including "fuck fuckity fuck" and "If you could go buy us a couple beers, bring them back to the table and then walk away, that would would just be a slice of heaven."
I really want to be home right now. Or at least in a bed in someone's home.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Flogging and screwing it's all you boys ever think of.
Date: 2003-06-06 09:56 am (UTC)Try a good hot waxing. It worked for me. ;>
RE: Rusted Screws
If you have a drill or know someone with a drill use a drill bit approximately the size of the shaft of the screw and just drill it out, like a machine version of a grudgefuck.
Re: Flogging and screwing it's all you boys ever think of.
Date: 2003-06-06 10:04 am (UTC)Also, thanks for the book you sent me -- I haven't cracked it open yet, but I'm hoping to get a chance to do some reading this weekend.
Re: Flogging and screwing it's all you boys ever think of.
Date: 2003-06-07 08:05 am (UTC)I'm gonna tell your mom.
-Q
no subject
Date: 2003-06-09 12:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-09 03:36 pm (UTC)Missyouloveyoubye!