"Judy Moody and the Hella Bummer Summer":FUCK YOUR SUMMER 2012

This is me attempting to escape Summer 2012 the permanent way..didn't work.

It's probably a little odd to write a blog post about Summer, considering it is now October, but whatever. Today I had a bunch of "revelations", if you will. I realized that I straight up pined for someone for months who isn't even close to being on my goddamn level, it takes time for your body to regain it's homeostasis after you starve it for months, and I don't have to care about what anyone thinks of me ever again, seriously. This summer was HEINOUS. Worse than when Viswas and I broke up. Almost everything that could destroy a person's psyche hit me at once. My health was fucked up, my job was closing and I got dumped by the boyfriend that I didn't even know that I fucking had. FUCK Summer 2012. But I learned a shit ton. I learned that I am stronger than I ever thought that I was. I mean, I've always known that I was strong and could handle most things, but the fact that I got through Summer 2012 with my dignity (save for the St. Ex debacle) and sanity in tact is nothing short of a testament to my will power. Fuck I'm awesome. So for Fall and beyond, I vow to stop dating dudes that are not up to par with my badass-ness, stop stressing, maintain my health and work my ass off. Speaking of work, I'm pretty stoked on this new job. I know that it probably won't be a cake walk, because nothing ever is for me, but I'm still jazzed. The fact that it's cool yet no frills is amazing...no fucking mixology, thank fuck. My coworkers are pretty cool and the ones that I know have bartended in D.C. for a long time, so if they're on board, it must be a pretty dope spot. I'm excited for new experiences. I feel as though I've been in this vestibule for awhile..able to see the next room, yet still so close to the last one I was in. I'm just ready to leave the last half of 2012 in the fucking dust. New and better dudes, jobs, health errrything!!! Bring it Fall and beyond, I've been waiting for you..

"Ladder Climbing":SO MANY FUCKS, NONE TO GIVE

"You. Better. Climb."

So life is kinda alright...I got a million job offers, one of which I am retarded jazzed about, but cannot say where it is (but know that it will be pretty awesome). I'm going to just pick up shifts at ESL. I've managed to not emasculate any men this week..at least that I know of. I've started to really try to decorate my apartment. It's coming together fine. Got a new rug and a new table, so that's awesome. I'm not even going to touch my guy-situation. I just can't. All I can say is that this shit with {NR} feels as though it is never going to eenndddd. I can't even go into our dinner. It was fun until we stood out on the corner of 18th st. for an hour while he vacillated between wanting to be with me, not wanting to be with me, wanting to fuck me, but not thinking it's a good idea. I don't think he was too happy about being left on that corner at 2 am. That's just a mini update..nothing of import has occurred, besides snagging that awesome job, which I'm sure I'll get grilled about.."how'd you get it? who do you know?" I got called a "ladder climber" by a certain "man-about-town" a few months ago. I assume he meant "social climber". I really can't imagine what ladder I'd be climbing..what..hanging out at dive bars? That's ladder climbing? Being acquaintances with people that also go to those bars? I've fucked one person that barely even qualifies as running in that circle, and we were on the fast track to relationship-ville, so pray tell, what fucking ladder?! Anyway, my point is, I get good job offers because I make it my business to know people that may be able to save my ass at some point. Being a bartender is like being an independent contractor..or a mercenary. I need to network so that I can fucking feed myself if, say, my job unexpectedly closes, or I have had it up to the proverbial here with my spineless, asshole bosses sticking me with all of the work that my slacker coworkers abandon. If that's "ladder climbing", then so be it. I'll climb "ladders" all day. I don't go to bars expecting to be hooked up..I don't fuck bar owners for free tabs..I actually prefer to pay full price most of the time, because it's more economically sound. The amount of money that you don't have to pay for your drinks is double what you'll have to pay in tip..Don't get me wrong, if my friends are bartending, I'll throw money all night. But I also DO NOT mind a non-hookup. So yeah, if ladder climbing leads me to the apex of awesome jobs, yes fucking please.

"Don't You Have Shit To Do?": HATERS

This shit......

I went out the other night and had a blast with everyone from ESL. Our owner was DJing at Velvet and Casey was bartending. So much fucking fun. I met great people, and although two of my mortal enemies were there, I just ignored them and partied as hard as I could..funny enough, most of the people that I have issues with right now are men, which is weird, because I roll so hard with dudes..weird..anyway, after Velvet, my coworkers and I went to Brixton for after hours. I ran into this ass who trashed {NR} once. He said that he told {NR} that he was going to fuck things up with me, couldn't wait until he did, and he didn't deserve me. At first I thought that he was just trying to spare me from a bullet, since I was still in my hurt phase over "breaking up". Then I realized that he was fiercely jealous of {NR} and that he wished it was him fucking me. I wanted to go nuclear. I asked {NR} about what the guy had said last week, and he said he had no clue what he was talking about..I had gotten the details fucked up. Anyway, the guy stood firm in his stance on {NR}, which made me angrier and angrier. He had the audacity to say the he considered {NR} a friend! "You're not his friend," I said..if any of my friends trash talked me to a guy I was seeing, I would rage the fuck out. The night progressed into a passive aggressive standoff between he and I. After over-hearing him STILL shit talking {NR}, I conveniently and loudly let it be known that he had a huge cock and fucked like a beast. I always feel a bit bad after I do that, but I have had to defend this man so many times that I have to have a quip on hand or else I'll get tired of having to be witty. The asshole also called him a "civil war reject", which I have NO idea what it means...eventually I grew tired of fighting the urge to run up to the guy and punch him in his face, so I left. I told my cab driver the story, and he was thoroughly impressed by my sense of loyalty. I told him that {NR} and I are supposed to get dinner next week. He gave me his number and asked me to keep him updated on what happens. You know, I don't like having to rage out, but if there's one thing I hate, it's people that shit talk. I will call you on it every time..and to shit talk the guy that I like? REALLY?! And who cares if he was going to fuck it up?? Who gives a fuck if he would have cheated on me?? Just let us figure it out!! The guy couldn't live with {NR} dating (another) hot girl. And then he called him a loser..a loser...uhm, bitch {Redacted} and is {Redacted}...how is that being a loser? Whatever went down in his last relationship is of no fucking concern to me or anyone else. If dudes knew half the shit that I did in my last relationship and judged me for it, I'd never date again..I had another guy (notice that it's all guys that have massive amounts of shit to say about him..every girl that I've ever talked to about him has nothing but amazing things to say)..he said something about him being mean to two friends of his that he dated.."he wasn't mean to me..I was actually a dick to him.." The guy seemed shocked, but here's the thing..I'm one of the biggest assholes that you will ever meet and I will call you all the way out immediately. I like the fact that he has haters..it fits with the fact that I too have haters. I was telling my mother about all the shit going down and she said something pretty true, "you want haters. That means you're doing something right! No one hates on a loser..they may make fun of them, but they don't hate on them." I can't fight anymore. I am not going to entertain anymore shit talking from anyone in this town. The hate is so strong here, which I don't understand..this is not Raleigh, where there's nothing to do and the cost of living is low...D.C. is expensive as shit and a semi-difficult city to live in, so why stir drama..I just can't..I'm going to focus on work, health and fucking...I'm omitting everything else.

AQUARIAN LOVE

Who says Aquarians can't make it work?

So {NR} and I are supposed to go out to dinner next week. I'm retarded excited because I really fucking missed him and have seen the error of my fucked up ways. I was such an asshole to him, and in hindsight, I really did not give him many options other than dumping my ass. Let's count the myriad ways that I was a dick to him, shall we?

1. I gave my number to a dude in front of him.

2. I told him that we couldn't make out in public because I didn't want to cock-block myself (I also added, "I'm a hot, young, single girl in the city").

3. One time I walked with him to the metro and he kissed me. He called me out on the no PDA clause, and I told him I didn't see any guys that I wanted to bang, so it was okay. 

4. He told me that if he met another girl, he'd tell her he had a girlfriend..I asked him why he'd do that.

There's more..but I can only stand so much asshole..anyway, I DID NOT think that he'd agree to go to dinner with me..god, I was such a douchebag..I was having a conversation with my aunt last week that slapped my ego right the fuck off. She called me an asshole. I hadn't talked to her in awhile, and when she asked me whether or not I was dating, I let the flood gates open. She "read me for filth"..She told me that I was in complete denial about my true feelings for {NR}. I was shocked as shit. She then said something that took some time to reconcile. "You were in a relationship and you didn't even know it." Was I? Sure, I almost beat a bitch down for touching him, smashed glasses at his bar when I thought that someone was fucking with him and I'd get the sads whenever he left my apartment..but does that a relationship make? Hmm..anyway, I'm pretty stoked about dinner..I have no clue what I'm going to say...maybe something to the effect of, "I'm about to be sooo real with you right now that your head may explode.." I just know that I have been riding the cray-cray train since we "broke up", and I'm ready to get off. 

So now I've passed the point of excitement and entered the "oh shit, what now" place. I don't want to drop the bf/gf monikers, but I know that I'm just not interested in anyone else, and would like for him to not be interested in anyone else either..but then I think, "he's going to be sooooo busy soon..why would he want a semi-gf anyway? oh god! This dinner's going to be in vain! And then he's going to pull the "your'e awesome, but" bullshit..oh god, what if he was fucking someone else? What if he's fucking someone else now?" But I must say, those thoughts aren't as prevalent as the "oh my god, I can't wait to see him and tell him everything and then have him tell me that he still likes me and then we agree to start seeing each other "again" and everything's awesome and we go back to my place and FUCK. ALL. NIGHT." 

It's strange..I know why I like him, but there are also parts of why I like him that are completely beyond explanation. When I saw him last Thursday, I felt this overwhelming need to fuck his face..He looked so goddamn good. Jesus. I also just wanted to be around him, but turned into a crazy weirdo and couldn't say anything to him. I talked to him a little bit via text on Friday, but it was very wooden. I mean,  we joked a little bit, but I was very dissatisfied. So after talking to my aunt, and her calling me an asshole, I decided that I should probably do something about all of this. Sunday I grew some balls and sent him another text:

"Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to meet up next week for dinner?"

"yeah sure. my schedule is pretty crazy right now but i usually have some nights off. when's good for you?"

"I have Monday and Tuesday night off for sure and maybe Thursday."

"did you mean next week, like after labor day? this week is kind of nuts for me."

"I meant what's now this week, but we can do next week. I'm not sure what my work schedule is yet, but I'm sure I can figure something out."

"okay cool. i could definitely do next Thursday.."

"Okay, let's do next Thursday."

"sounds good."

"Awesome"

As I said, I DID NOT expect that shit in any way. I expected this:

"Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to meet up next week for dinner?"

::3 Hours later::

"pretty busy, don't think I can anytime soon."

Or:

::RADIO SILENCE INTO PERPETUITY::

So, suffice to say, I'm beyond stoked. I'm sorry, but you don't turn your back on amazing sex, mental simpatico and mutually receptive humor. You just don't..Unless you're {NR}, and the prospect being chopped the fuck up by the girl you like trumps deep throating. 

So now I have to decide where I want him to meet me. Oh yes, I'm going to be "the dude" in this situation because my asshole-ish-ness calls for it. I wanna take him somewhere nice, get a bottle of wine and let the feelings floooooowwwww..lol..and then maybe fuck after. I'm going to do my damnedest to try and steer him away from 14th st and AdMo...as I've said throughout this blog, I'm so stoked. Hopefully he's open to trying again..I like him a retarded amount.

"It's not like I care..": STREET CARP AND THE ACT OF DESTRUCTION.

"...but you're that girl..."

So I had a good solid awesome month of hanging out with and fucking {name redacted}. Best sex ever. Hands down. Super cool guy. Things started getting intense fast and we had to break shit off..no big deal. Did it suck? Yes. There are few things on this Earth that will turn a usually sentient woman into a crying mess than being denied the ability to continually experience the greatest vaginal orgasm she's ever had. My vagina mourned his dick for a good month. Anyway, he bartends at {name redacted}, and a few weeks ago I got WASTED, thrown out and into a screaming match with another guy who works there. Dude ended up SCORCHED EARTHING ME!! What is "scorched earth", you ask? "Scorched earth" is a phrase I use for the act of destroying someone's life/character. It's like putting out a burn notice on a spy. It's the act behind the words, "you're dead to me". So this guy spread some exaggerated rumors about me to his coworkers and some mutual acquaintances, PLUS wrote an insanely immature Facebook post about me..I'm sure it got back to {name redacted}, which hurts me, in a way. Not because I was hoping for some sort of reconciliation (we're both Aquarians, which means NOTHING will be settled..no "we're done" talks..back doors to everything..), but I hate feeling as though my actions or consequences are negatively affecting someone else's life..he's a good dude and I would hate to fuck up his rep. because of a drunken night and an immature guy with a chip on his shoulder. Anyway, I found out that {name redacted} quit working at the bar. I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach when I heard. Great. Did my tendencies for self-destruction spill over into his life? Is he now known as the dude who fucked that crazy "trifling whore"?  Maybe the red tape is lifting and he can now devote more time to opening up his own place. He had talked about leaving that bar anyway. Probably because his ex still works there though..I don't know..I just can't help but feel badly..I feel as though that's been a main theme for us anyway..circumstances and people. I was soo livid when I found out that that random guy went to {NR}'s bar and told him that he, "wasn't good enough for me, didn't deserve me and couldn't wait for him to fuck things up." Was it shitty timing? Should we not have told people we were "hanging out (fucking)"? Things just felt really comfortable..until they didn't..and shit started getting weird. Then we both got freaked out, anxious and angry...and a "few weeks break" turned into, "Oh yeah..." Which is fine...I'll forever pull "whatever, I don't care," even if I actually do..it's just so much easier than sussing out all of those things..what are they called? Oh, feelings...I still can't admit to myself that I liked him more than just fucking..it's like doing so would be breaking some sort of "bro code" that I have with myself. Whatever..I'm just a serial bachelorette. I can fuck..I can be your friend..but as soon as I hear the word girlfriend...nice to know you! The night that he said he needed a break (jesus), started with the word "girlfriend"...we agreed that all that the both of us could handle was fucking. Then I asked him if he was sleeping with other people (NOT for possessive purposes, but STD awareness)..he said no..I gave him a look of disbelief..

"I'm not..I'd tell you if I were..and even if I met a girl, I'd tell her I HAD A GIRLFRIEND.."

"...why would you do that?!"

"I think we need a break.."

The word "girlfriend" triggers some PTSD-esque reaction..like a war vet, I'm transported back to a hellish time when I hear it..

So anyway, we just stopped talking..which is definitely for the best..if there's a possibility that I'm fucking with this dude's life by proxy, imagine what it would be like if things got really intense...I mean, I pushed a girl for dancing with him and accidentally smashed glasses at his bar...he triggered my girlfriend crazy faster and deeper than any other guy..I can only name two other men that have driven me "girlfriend crazy"..shit does not end well. Hopefully his departure from that bar has NOTHING to do with fallout from my silly situation..and hopefully we're cool and once he gets his bar up and running, I can go there and not break anything.

"TALES FROM THE TRASH CAN": Settling The Score.

I was reading this article about this writer for Esquire who wrote an article deriding shitty lays. At first I was like, "burn the witch"..but after reading comments, I thought, "I think that I AM this guy". My last blog detailed a shitty exploit that left me more than disappointed. But is it trashy of me to write about it? I mean, this is a blog. Does it make ME seem unaware and entitled? I mean, it was a shitty shitty lay, and honestly, I'm really not that picky in bed. I'm not..I'm not!! On top of it, I'm not even an uber-sexual person. I can take it or leave it. Ugghh to even the score and lend vindication for this shitty lay and clear my name, I'll put MYSELF on blast..

1. One time during a fight with my ex I told him he had a small dick (which isn't true), and in retribution he told me that I had a big gaping hole of a vagina. That was something that stuck with me our whole relationship and sometimes when we had sex I would wonder, "..is my vagina a big gaping hole?!" I find it pretty hilarious and have absolutely no idea if my vagina is a big gaping hole (!!!!!I'm laughing so fucking hard right now)..I haven't had any complaints about it, but my sex partners could just be very nice.

2.Dead fish. Maybe my ex was just verbally abusive and it's in hindsight that I'm realizing it, but he called me a dead fish once.

3.I have huge teeth and sometimes (rarely) they get in the way of a good blow job..

4.I'm not a long-distance hand job giver. Don't have the stamina for it.

5.I lost my virginity to this guy I had a crush on for awhile and I REFUSED to go down on him. I'm not sure why, but I feel badly about that now. I really just had sex because I didn't want to be a virgin anymore. No sentimentality, virginity just wasn't my thing anymore.

So there you go..I'm sure there's more, but whatever.

YOU. CANNOT. FUCK.

This month fucking BLOOOOWWWSSSSS so hard. This was my worst month with men ever. EVER. Not only did I have a few run ins with psychopaths of the male variety, I had one of the worst sexual experiences ever. 

A few weeks ago I decided to hang out with {redacted}. Now, {redacted} and I get along very well in a "hanging out" way, but the man is old enough to be my father and (thankfully) I do not have daddy issues. I'm just not into dating someone that old. Anyway, we went out to Blackbyrd one Sunday, I got a little drunk off of a few Old Fashioneds. He dropped me off at my place and I decided to invite him up. I did this for a few reasons. 

1.Boredom. I was bored and it had been awhile since I last fucked, so why not.

2.Curiosity. A man of his age should be able to fuck, right?

So he comes up, oohs and ahhs about how badass my apartment is, then lays on my bed. My bed is fucking amazing. I call it my "marshmallow bed"...he dies and becomes one with my mattress. So we make out and immediately, I reach for the lights...I NEVER FUCK WITH THE LIGHTS OFF. EVER. But I was sooo many kinds of "not into this" that I had no choice...still, curiosity abounded and I commenced to whatever...

Worst lay of my life. Worst lay in the history of lays. Actually, it was neck and neck with some of the earlier sex days of my ex and I...before he learned that you don't ram your dick all the way into a girl fast nor do you lay your whole body ontop of her head (?)...but he was in his twenties and I was like, his second girlfriend. No excuse for bad sex when you are over the age of 25. Now I will admit, sometimes I am lazy in bed. I don't like being on top unless the guy I'm with has a big dick and I prefer getting fucked from behind..but when I'm into it, I'm fucking into it and my oral skills more than make up for any sort of ennui that may present itself in certain cases...Oh yeah, that's another thing..HE HAS A BIG DICK!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK. He couldn't kiss, couldn't finger, shitty oral skills and could not fuck his way out of a ziploc bag...but was over the age of 40. So wrong..so fucking wrong. I couldn't even hide how lame it was..I went to the bathroom, peed and pulled the "I gotta get up early" card. He got the hint and got the fuck out like a good boy. So lame. SOOOOOO LAME. But this is even lamer..he keeps text messaging me. If there were ever a time to pray for a "bang and bounce" it'd be now. Even though I am a stone cold bitch whose emotions in regards to the courting process of the opposite sex died a long time ago, I still have a hard time being a giant cunt about this, so I give one word answers, like "fine". I mean, if you are THAT selfish and unaware in bed, what else do we have to talk about. I don't care enough to have the "I just want to be friends talk". I don't know if I've ever had that talk with a guy, actually..maybe with Jeff that one time a million years ago...I just don't care and I don't owe anyone anything...still, I can't go balls out and say, "you can't fuck, leave me alone"...that's begging for drama. I guess I'll just stick with my original plan and ignore his text messages. That's the nicest thing that I can do. 

"SATURDAY NIGHT WRIST": I'm Not A Player, I Just Duck Alot.

I went out last Saturday night and met Anya for drinks at Black Cat. The bartenders hooked us all the way up. I ordered Stoli on the rocks and it was given to me in a pint glass..gnarly. So I had a lot of fun..there were a few bumps in the road, but what are you gonna do. I've been in a very strange and painful place lately where I feel the weight of getting older, but can't reconcile it. I feel trapped between late-teens/early-twenties insanity and mid-twenties and beyond settling down. I can't stay out late anymore, two drink hangover and when I see a guy that's hot, I think, "okay, and what's wrong with you". I got drunk as fuck on Saturday and Anya's funny ass grabbed this random dude and made me dance with him. He was short, but was built like a fucking brick house..soo hot. So I ask him if he's gay and he says no. "You're soo fucking hot!! I wanna fuck you. Tonight. What's your number.". He gives me his number, and then we start making out. And then this wave of, "what the fuck" rushes over me...what the fuck was I doing?? Okay, yes, he was a good-looking guy..but really? Random fucking? We're doing that again? I just feel over everything. As though maybe I experienced too much as a youngster and now I'm out of ideas. Jaded. Cynical. The poor guy..It was obvious that something just switched off in my brain and decided that I was not going to fuck him. "But I wanna fuck you..". Awwee, how cute..but it just wasn't going to happen. I went back into the red room and started to write. I felt like a fucking parasite. I was just going to fuck that guy, make up some retarded lie about maintenance coming in the morning and ask him to leave...never calling him again. Such "taker" mentality. 18 year old Ashley wouldn't have fucked him either...she would have made out with him, promise to go out on a date with him and then never talk to him again. Oh, those innocent times. I'll never forget the time I made this guy eat me out in a bathroom while I was on my period. Just because I could. Just because I fucking could. I wasn't interested in the guy. He was okay looking, but, I wasn't into him in the least. I was power-tripping during those days. That had a boomerang effect when I broke up with my ex and went on a dick crusade..but I've been single for a really long time, and I've sown those oats. I've been there, done that and done it all again. And besides, my libido is way more complex than I let on. I can't just fuck someone for shits and giggles (anymore). That's just so desperate. I feel as though people that are ultra promiscuous are just doing it because they need some sort of external validation or acceptance. I don't really need that. I have friends that say that I should stop thinking and just fuck someone, ANYONE. That's just not my style..I like the satisfying feeling of fucking someone that I'm soooo into. That beats a million shitty one-nighters any day. I'm a cerebral gal. I love talking to a guy and being in awe of the things he says..hanging on his every word because he's so fucking smart and has interesting things to say. There are times when I wish so much that I were stupid and had self-esteem issues and could just fuck whoever and not give 10 shits about it...but I can't, and will forever be stuck in this vestibule where my past dalliances are in one room and my future prospects are in another...I really hope this isn't going to be forever and that I either give all the way the fuck up or am married or something by 30...I don't think I can handle having to deal with this shit into my thirties.

"OH MY GOD YOU'RE A CANCER!!!":Astrology And How I Utilize It To Choose My Fuck-Partners.

I've kickstarted my Astrology obsession yet again. I find that these bouts (which are symptoms of my anxiety disorder) flare up when I feel an overwhelming sense of uncertainty. Checking my daily, weekly and monthly horoscope as a diabetic would their sugar level. This year is supposed to be stellar for Aquarians..I have yet to witness anything as so. Pretty standard malaise all day, but whatever. This descent into the astrological abyss reminded me of something...my dating history by sign. When I tally it up, I have had encounters with every sign. Does that mean that I've fucked every sign? No. But I've at least had a mishap or 12..which I count as an encounter..

Aries..I always get along well with them, but they're so fucking wild..loyal, but wild. I've had my fair share confess their love for me, but I always see them as friends/brothers..

Taurus..BORING AS FUUUUCK..

Gemini...No clue how dull they are, have over-inflated egos and are fucking crazy. Not down with them at all.

Cancer..I need a whole paragraph..will revisit.

Leo..I probably get along with them the best..always good looking, always fun.

Virgo...Psychopaths who almost always lead double lives.

Libra..Mean and insecure, or so nice they're boring.

Scorpio...Intense..I'll have to revisit this one as well..

Sagittarius...Know-it-alls, lazy.

Capricorn...Cold, chivalrous.

Aquarius...Psychopath, genius..feelings, what are those?

Pisces...Sappy, issues to the tenth power.

Back to Cancer. Every significant male experience that I've had has been with a Cancerian man. I loved them..I've just come to the realization that although I am drawn to them and them to me, I have noooo fucking business dating, fucking or anything-ing with a Cancer. I think that it's an extreme case of opposites attracting. Aquarius is the most unfeeling sign of the Zodiac. Cancer is the most feeling. It's never a good fucking scene and I swear to god that I have JUST disavowed my relationship with Cancers. Okay, okay, I'm making ONE last exception. After I fuck that guy, I'm done! Scouts honor.

And now I'll revisit Scorpios...Scorpio, Scorpio, Scorpio. So I used to have this FUCKED UP "thing" with this Scorpio guy a few years ago..it was just..so..I can't even..thinking about it used to make me want to jump out of my skin, but I had a dream about him a few nights ago and realized that he is not the asshole that I made up in my mind, but that we were two crazy kids trying to do the best we could with a fucked up situation. In the dream, I was at a party in Raleigh with some friends and the Scorpio came up to me, kissed me on the cheek and was genuinely happy to see me. It was so bizarre. There wasn't any sexual tension. It was extremely platonic. Now, I'm really hoping that it stays in the dream and I won't have contact with him anytime soon, because although all is forgiven on my end, I still have no desire to run into him. This strange thing would happen where I would think or talk about him (especially with E) and I would either see him or receive a random text message from him. We've been all clear so far..thank god.

I've resigned myself to the idea of having my next boyfriend be a Leo. I was kinda sorta "seeing" Eric..who is a Leo. If Eric weren't soooo much older than me, I'd fucking marry him. And I don't even fucking like blonds.

"I'm A Groown Man, I'm A Biiiig Girl":TWENTY-FIVE AND QUASI-ALIVE!!

Soooo, eight days ago, I turned twenty-fucking-five. The fact that I have lived long enough to see my twenty-fifth birthday is nothing short of a miracle. I've done some fucked up things. I've almost died a few times, most of them alcohol related......I can say that I have lived an eventful and righteous life.

I will say that my threshold for silly shit is sooo low that I cannot tolerate situations that are conducive to stress at fucking all. I used to be able to have stressful jobs as a bartender and server, have it destroy my inner-world, pickup and start again..not anymore..I just can't bounce back from bullshit like I used to be able to. I've resigned myself to living as stress-free of a life as possible..my mom and I have this running joke with my grandfather as the butt...he will not stress about anything. He's had brain tumors, blood diseases, his hand was mangled in a machine accident and he has had family member after family member die...and he could give two thousand fucks about it..it's probably why he looks 50 at 74...So whenever I feel myself getting stressed out, I think about my grandpa and Lionel Richie's "Easy"..and a wave of calm blankets me. 

I'm also a little bit pissed that I allowed myself to stress the way that I did when I was younger...I shouldn't have been thinking about my future at 18,19, 20, 21,22, 23 or even 24...FUCK IT. I raged the fuck out, don't get me wrong..and I have little to no regrets..but I did spend a sizable chunk trippin' about paying bills and shit..which I guess is normal when you're out on your own..whatever...Now I just find myself doing these things:

1. Sleeping

2. Wondering why parts of my body hurt

3. Wondering when my eyesight became so bad

4. Saying, "I'm too old for this.."

5. Wondering if I'm still considered young

I'm trying not to think to hard about how old I am, because it's a slippery slope...I'll be in my mid-thirties (assuming I make it to then) before I even have time to fully process twenty-five. 

"YOU'RE KILLING US!!": Your Toxic Relationship Is Ruining Us All

Where to fucking begin...

Have you ever had a friend that goes through a breakup and they torture everyone around them with their obsessions with their ex S.O.s and stupid doomed-from-the-start relationship??

A few AVG stats:

1. I am the coldest, most austere and rational person that I know. Most people that know me can attest to this. I only have a few triggers in life that make me go insane. "Job shit" is one of them. You wanna see me lose my shit and act like a complete freak? Watch me at work. That's because it incorporates two of my most loathed enemies: money and forced socialization. I'm a loner through and through..always have been, always will be, so work brings out a form of anxiety in me that has been a massive struggle for me to overcome. I just do not feel comfortable in any work situation. Ever. Being a bartender was probably a bad occupation path...Besides that, I'm very logical. So when people come to me with weird emotional bullshit that is more often than not of their own doing, I have no sympathy. I'm the last person you want to talk to about relationship drama..My best advice is probably something that I read in a fortune cookie. I don't really give a shit..but you knew that, right??

2. My first and last breakup pretty much made me never want to do it again. Not in a pathetic, "I'll never love again," way...in an "break ups suck and I never want to do that again. My hand met the stove. Microwave it is forever," way. I have a lot of awesome and deep conversations with my friend Jenn (over Facebook, but it still counts). I'm always so exhilarated during them! It feels amazing to exercise my mental abilities and fucking think! And then I really think...I think, "god, this is as good as I'm ever going to feel at the hands of someone else". The last time that I had an amazing conversation with a guy was that Turkish dude...He had me at seeing "The Symposium" on his Nook...Le-fucking-sigh...Hot, rich and smart...THAT was the last time that I thought, "okay...totally." Sometimes I wish that I had self-esteem issues or daddy issues or some sort of issues that would allow me to just say, "you're a guy! And you like me! Wanna be my bf4evz?!" But that's just not me. Thus, I am doomed to be a carbon copy of my mother..a perpetual bachelorette whose only male companion is a teacup Maltipoo.

Now that THAT'S out of the way, back to the original topic...

I can't handle people and their relationship shit any goddamn more. Figure that shit out. If you're gonna break up, do it clean and get the fuck out..OR  torture each other..in silence..don't subject your friends to the agony of hearing about your shitty relationship that wasn't, still is, whatever...save the Chinese Water Torture for Guantanamo Bay..figure your shit out. I'm trying to re-wrap my intellect around the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing, but I can't..I guess it's just been a really long time, so my only frame of reference as far as why it would be appealing is the on-call sex...I can't really see any other benefits. You know it's going to end..it always does..and badly..It reminds me of this joke that Louis C.K. (whom I fucking LOVE forever and ever...or at least until he has a scandal for dropping some heinous epithet or something). He talks about having a dog when he was a kid, but it got cancer in it's snout and had to be put down. He then goes on to talk about how getting a dog is like subjecting yourself to the impending agony of it eventually dying. It's cute, and then it dies. That's what relationships are like. They're cute, and then they die. So why even buy the goddamn puppy?! Why even have a fucking relationship?! Because we're all just codependent egomaniacal narcissists searching for something to fill whatever emptiness there is in that place and time, I fucking guess.

"CRAPOCALYPSE 2012": A Shedding Of Ways.

So here we are..a few weeks into 2012..and everyone that I know is depressed, going through duress and extreme life changes. I'd be a liar if I said that I was happy right now, but I definitely think that I've got the better end of early 2012, compared to most of my friends. Between really hard breakups, assaults, emotional cutting and everything in-between, most of the people that I know are barely afloat, quasi-drowning in a sea of undoing. Why is this? I think that it's the universe forcing us all to get real and shed the excess bullshit that we've allowed to accumulate. Forced growth. I think that if I didn't stay so isolated, I definitely would be exactly where everyone else is, thus, I've got 99 problems, but a dick ain't one. Most of my issues stem from the realization that it's time to woman-up and devote myself to a career path, at the very least a job that I get fulfillment from. I've spent my late teens and early twenties bar tending and cocktail waitressing..and it doesn't make me happy..I don't know if it ever did. The money definitely made me feel great, but the ups and downs of the industry is soul-sucking. I'm tired of being at the mercy and fickleness of the bar tending tempest. I want to invest in myself and actually use my fucking brain and support myself doing it. I want to work from home and decide for myself if I want to get out of bed. I'm learning how to design websites now. It interests me so. I love solving problems and seeing the direct result of turning thoughts into action. I'm doing my best to really focus all of my energy (positive and negative) into this. Between web design and Fantasy Funeral, 2012 is going to be busy. Anything that I do from now on that does not pertain to me actually achieving these goals are either means to an end or distractions. I don't want to go into my mid-twenties doing the same fucking thing.

On another note, I want to analyze what the fuck is going on with everyone and their mothers breaking up or having opposite sex drama right now. I don't think I've ever seen so much dissension in that area as a collective in my life. There is a palpable agony in the air. Maybe I spend too much time on Facebook, so I get to see all of the maudlin status updates and "in a relationship" to "single" profile changes. It's insane. I said it before, I'll say it again. I really think that it's a communal atrophy. We're all just getting rid of stuff that doesn't work anymore. I'm a firm believer in the principle that if you don't initiate change, then the universe will do it for you, but it won't be pretty when it does. Relationships are fucking tough. Every aspect of the human experience is tough. I've been re-reading "The plague" by Camus, and it really reminds me of what a lot of the people that I know are going through. You see the rats, they're signs, but you ignore them, until there's a full-blown plague. And here we are in 2012 and everyone's got it. so how do we cure ourselves? How do we recover? First step, get rid of the rats. Second, heal thyself. We can't rely on crutches like drugs, alcohol or other people to get better, stronger. We gotta do it ourselves, from the inside out. So many people spend their lives looking for their other/better halves..I would love to meet someone awesome as fuck etc, but I refuse to settle..I'll waste my own time, thank you..but I see so many people that put all of themselves into another person, so when it doesn't work out, it's almost as though it's a slight against who they are as people, which is just not so. I also think that a lot of people get caught up in weird fantastical romance scenarios..I don't know. Perhaps I'm a cynic..maybe i'm just the bitter single girl, I don't fucking know..but I feel pretty lucky that I do not have trippy S.O. shit going on. I'm a logical and guarded person with too much objectivity anyway, so for me to get swept up in some sort of all-consuming love affair is insanely unlikely. I think too much.

Anyway, I hope that all of my homies can get through all of this shit relatively unscathed psychologically and able to love again. 2012 is still in it's infancy, and I have faith that all the barely floating will end and we'll all be back to swimming.

"Some Men Just Want To Watch The World Burn.": ASHLEY STARTS A RECORD LABEL

Yes. I, Ashley, am starting a record label. No, not a super cooper serious one, but one that's mainly online releases. How did this come about? Funny you should ask! I've been making music since I was 19 years old. I've played shows, released some shit, but I'm not the kinda gal who screams, "LOOK AT ME LOOK AT ME!!" Or begs people to go to her show..Or beats down doors of record labels..It's just not my thing..For all of my fuckery, I am quite shy and detest being at the mercy of others. It took some time, but FINALLY, I feel as though I have a sound that is mine all mine and fits who I am..Straight Funeral Parlor Shit. I'm super stoked that the playing field has finally been leveled for musicians..Sure, they'll always be a Lady Gaga, and shitty pop ain't going anywhere. But for DIY-ers like myself, it's a lot easier to get your shit out there AND actually make money from it. And with this, I have decided to start my own label! Why the fuck not?! A couple of weeks ago, I brought my MacBook in for a repair to the store in Georgetown. The little Genius that helped me asked me what I used my laptop for. I told him that I made music and wrote. He asked me to explain the type of music that I made. After I did, he asked me for my contact info so that he could try and setup a show for me there...Gulp...WHAT?! In Raleigh, my live performances are legendary. From smashing beer bottles, to dry humping audience members. I AM LEGEND. On top of that, a lot of my songs are soo explicit that I couldn't imagine a Georgetown Yuppie jamming to my shit..?? So I just chalked it up to the little Genius trying to flirt a bit..No big deal. Well a few days ago I received an email from the fucking Apple Store informing me that I would be receiving another email from a head honcho in regards to playing a show. It renewed my interest in reviving my music, and on my own terms. So now I am starting a little label for me to release my music. If it actually turns into something moderately successful, maybe i'll have an opportunity to sign other acts..That'd be fucking awesome. the name of the label is "Fantasy Funeral". I think that it describes the type of music that I make perfectly. I love a good church organ..