Harriet and I have had a complicated relationship, to say the least.  I have to say this, first, though. I love her like I love anyone that's entered into my immediate circle of friends, even though I haven't hung out with her in ages.

When the kids were in kindergarten, we dropped them off and stood around the same spot, and started talking to each other. It developed into a tight friendship, where I would sit in her Durango, and wait for the kids. We'd show up every day at school two hours early with coffee and music, and sit there talking waiting for the kids to walk out, even when her daughter and Alden were in different ends of the school, we made them walk around to where we were.

Our deep friendship progressed into a sexual relationship, and that was fun for awhile. She always had a billion things going on at once, and I was sort of happy to be a part of her chaotic life. She would drag me to parties and friends houses, and she did a lot to chip away at my social anxieties. With her, I learned to "fake it till I make it" in social situations.  She didn't give me the choice to sit out, often.  I catered her aunt's 75th birthday party. I loved her and hated her, and I blogged a ton about her back in the early 2000's because she was such a turbulent and zingy ball of energy in my life back then.

Then our house burned, and all that shit happened, and I got too busy.  A few years later, her house burned down, and I helped her out a lot with her pets and other stuff. She moved out of the neighborhood for a few years, while her house was being rebuilt.  She got into some bad relationships, while cheating on her husband, some very jealous types. She got mixed up with a woman that got her hooked on pills, which really kinda killed our friendship for a time. She couldn't really even say hi to me, the woman was so insane.  She served some jail time, lost her job. Got another job, lost that.  So much bullshit. I tried to be around for her, through all this, and she'd come over despairing sometimes, but the light kinda had gone out of things.

So, today she turns up.  Looking good, tan, and happer than I'd seen her in a while.  She's going to NA meetings, and she's been off the pills for four days  We chatted about the houses, she lost more in Sandy than I did.  She moved out of the neighborhood again, when her house got destroyed, and just came back a few weeks ago.   We've both kinda come to the end of our ropes about things, with the houses and we reconnected on a great level.  I opened the door to her. If she ever wants to just come over and get out of the house, just to quit staring at the four walls, I invited her here.  I know that means a lot in the recovery process.  Just to get out of your prison and go take a walk.  I lit up seeing her on the porch. I love reconnecting with old friends, no matter what's transpired in the meantime.  Nevermind all the bullshit, I hope she stays off the pills, and sticks around.

I closed reddit. I cannot bury myself in comforting things, right now. I need to write.

So, Luiz did something almost irreparably shitty to me, today. It's something he does on a frequent and consistent basis, but this turns out to be the most damaging time.

When I love someone and trust them perfectly, I talk to them. Sometimes, my friends confide in me, and usually when it's something I could use input on, or something that fills me with joy, I'll share it with Irv or Luiz. So, once when Schuyler confided to me that was so out of my knowledge zone, something kind of shocking, I mentioned it to Irv mostly, because he's pretty steady and can provide detached unjudgemental information. It was like "Schuyler has this weird situation. I'm at a loss. Please advise." It was a secret. It was something that Schuyler was feeling uncomfortable with, and turned to me for advice. Luiz over heard this, and at the earliest opportunity mentioned it to him. In a mocking way.

That was maybe five years ago? Schuyler hasn't confided in me since then. Our friendship took kind of a turn. We're very casual now, and we barely ever talk. I'm not gonna lie, I've been feeling the sting of it since it happened. Then he told Alden some very important details about my personal life that is none of a child's business. I'm a parent, Alden is my kid. There needs to be some mystery about my recreational life. Luiz went ahead and just shone a spotlight on every facet of my life, to Alden, unasked for. Facets that no kid ever needs to know about their parent.

Luiz will see me pulling cards, for a friend and come hover over what I'm doing. He'll get up in my shit and try to help me. Then in short order, he'll go to that friend, and say things like, "So, I hear you're having marital issues, WELL, Lisa and I pulled cards, and we figured this out about you." Which isn't the case. Sometimes, I turn to him for help when I'm too close, but more often than not, I read the cards solo. I'm digressing. But, I'm writing out the history here.

So, today, he kind of carpetbombed me. He waited till the very end of a really good day, during PMS, after I packed a huge bowl, 10 hours before I'm going to eat breakfast with her, and announced that he had a crush on Michele. Which hurts, and we talked about the reasons for it, which I might have to write another blog post about. But, it's really nothing that I couldn't cope with, I just needed to digest it, you know? At some point in that conversation, he said

"I'm pretty sure she doesn't hate me. I meant what I said about cultivating a friendship. It's my way to be selfless and be cool.  My designs on a clean friendship are pure."


Then he kept trying to impress upon me that he needs to be friends with her. My answer,


"Well, there doesn't *need* to be. She's my best friend. She's not close friends with Irv, never has been. She's friendly with Irv. She's friendly with you."

So, that was kind of the end of that. He kept begging me to trust him, and I really can't. I trust that he'll do what he wants, what he thinks is right no matter what my feelings are. Something kept nagging at me about the word trust.


At that exact same moment, he was carrying on a conversation with her in another window, trying to be all deep and philosophical and what he thinks as "friendly" I guess. He took a conversation that Michele and I had months ago in confidence. A girly girl on girl conversation that made me happy, some personal bit of emotion and conversation that should have been between her and I only, one that I shouldn't have really shared, but I stupidly did...and repeated it to her verbatim. As in "Lisa told me this is how you feel about this situation, and I think that's just ducky." He was using some piece of confidential information to become closer and "friendlier" with her.

It was just most shitty, scummy, backstabby thing ever. Michele picked up on it immediately and ended that aspect of the conversation. Cards were pulled. He didn't think it had any effect. It most definitely had a very immediate and heart rending effect. Michele now doesn't think she can trust me. And just when we were getting our friendship back on track after Kenn. Now we have this huge, maybe irreparable rift, and this distance. The same kind he caused between Schuyler and I. And Chris and I with his little "open letter". And Alden and I. This 18 year old friendship went through some very brittle times, and now as adults we were just getting so much fuller and better.

I feel like an ass. I feel like now Michele can't trust me, the way Schuyler couldn't, the way nobody could, I guess. I'm not blind to the fact that I made it wrong. I can't believe I'm so stupid. I should never have told Luiz shit. Actually, I was very transparent about recent developments, too, till he spilled my business to Alden. Around then, I started dialing it back around him and not telling him the majority of what goes on in my conversations with people. He didn't even realize that my trust for him was eroding by the day, and was so shocked to learn I don't tell him 100%. Instinct told me to not disclose secrets anymore, and I definitely quit, maybe in early May.

I'm anxious and exhausted. I'm dreading tomorrow morning. I've been sitting here with tears threatening to fall, but somehow not. I feel hot and dry and angry. I'm hurting and raw, and unsure of anything.

He keeps pawing at me, looking for me to comfort him or boost his ego. That's not for him today. He doesn't get to run over my feelings with a steamroller, and my relationships, and expect me applaud him for his spiritual journey to "become a better person" That's the thinnest line of bullshit I've read all night.

I'm falling asleep at my computer. I'm husked out. Maybe I can bring this more out at a later date, or maybe this was enough. I'm not even sure how to go about being social tomorrow.

I know why. I don't even have the emotional fortitude to go into "why" he does this, right now.  It's enough that I know, and I strongly dislike his reasons.

So, on a close friend's wall, I was just subject to a fat joke. Which I didn't even notice/get.  My friend apologized fiercely, and is verging on cutting the guy out of his friends list over it.  I'm...like already over it.  Or, it didn't even phase me.  I had to explain to him, I've been fat all my life, and the word "fat" doesn't even have negative connotations anymore.  At worst, it's like describing me. I have green eyes. I have tattoos. I'm fat.  At best, I told him, it's positive.  As in.  "Yeah, I'm fat.  I get laid every fucking day.  YOU WISH YOU LOOKED THIS GOOD."  That's exactly how I worded it.

My whole life.  No amount of going to the gym, healthy eating, exercise, bicycle, yoga, pilates, belly dancing, weight training, calorie counting, vegetarianism...nothing...changes my essential shape.  I've converted about sixty pounds of this fat into muscle, but I'm still not even remotely thin, and I probably never will be, and what's more, I don't want to be.  It doesn't trouble me.

I feel the muscles rippling under my generous padding.  I'm ridiculously flexible.  I'm strong.  I'm light on my feet.  I'm graceful. I'm resilient.  I literally carry my own weight, well.  I've worked hard on this body, and I can work hard with it. It's amazing what I can do.  Sometimes, I amaze myself.

Turns out, being fat is good for me.

I've spent a lot of time figuring out how to dress, and how to maximize the potential of my finer qualities. I'm beautiful, I have gorgeous eyes and a wonderful, genuine, generous smile.  So, I focus on smiling a lot, genuinely.  I love looking at people, and looking in their eyes.  My skin is velvety.  I spend a good deal of time making sure it stays that way.  My shoulders are sexy, so I show them off.  My breasts are amazing. I show them off.  My legs and ass are strong and muscular, I show them off.  My belly is soft and lush to the touch, I love touching it, and I love having it touched  It really does feel nice squishing about in my hands.  My narrow hips are surprising. They're bony and sexy, and they make very convenient handles.  I have spent a lot of time acquainting myself with my body.  It's a delicious sensual experience, it's a playground, and a temple.   It's both primal and refined.  It's all good.

I care about how I represent myself to the world.  I never want to be unpolished, or sloppy.  I feel like not only do I represent myself, but all women of a certain size.  Every morning, I get up caring about my looks, and how I show myself to the world.  I want to do us proud.  Not only that, but I want to look good for my guys. I want them to be proud to walk next to me, and show me off.  I want to turn them on, and I want to be attractive.

Because of my size, I've worked very hard to find self love, and self acceptance.  Many people never even think about this, but it's something that I have smashed myself against for many years.  I've arrived now.  I don't cringe at my photographs anymore. I don't shy away from full length mirrors anymore (in fact, I embrace them, so I can get a good look at the tattoos I don't normally see).  I'm going to the beach Friday.  I'm going to look hot as hell in my bathing suit.  This journey was all on my own.  Luiz has written sonnets about my body, but until I completely internalized it, they were meaningless to me.  It's all about what goes on within.  If I weren't fat, would I have spent so much time self actualizing?  Who knows?

Because I'm fat, when I was younger, I worked SO hard on being a good person that people would like no matter what.  I try to be tactful and charming. I'm fucking hilarious. I've studied great comedians, timing and delivery.  I was always fat, and I had no friends when I was a kid... so I read whole libraries worth of books.  I'm brilliant, I'm educated, and I continue to be well read.  Rather than hanging out and being shallow with the cool kids...I devoted every spare bit of time to learning learning learning.  I've watched scores and scores of good movies.  I taught myself to write, draw, and paint, and to cook.  Immersed myself in countless hours of exquisite music. I've learned the art of conversation. Without the distraction of banal social bullshit, I've also learned to be alone with myself, and relish my own company.  I've learned to never be bored.

Because I already look different, I never tried to fit in.  I've always been an outcast, so I thrived in that role, turned it on its ear, and made being the "outcast" something positive.  I physically stand out from the crowd, so why not everything else?

I've learned who I can trust, I've learned more than I ever wanted to know about how other people view me, for better or worse.  I've developed lightning flash intuition.  Being fat has conveniently cut many people out of my life, simply because they had a problem with my size.  That makes things nice. Never a need to worry I'm wasting energy on the wrong people. They show their hand early on.

I've also learned to look past everyone's physical appearances, and all superficial criteria, and to not judge anyone by anything, ever.  Being judged hurts, I've learned.  So, I don't do it.

Because I'm fat, I've worked extra hard learning about nutrition and good health.  I have more risks to worry about, of course, which means I go the extra mile to keep myself healthy.  I take lots of extra care, with getting a balanced diet.  But, also, I love myself enough to eat with relish and abandon. Self denial is not in my vocabulary (about anything, really).  It's a fine balance.

Here's the thing about self denial.  I don't do it. Not for love, not for sex, not for just doing whatever the fuck I want.  I will never deny myself a worthwhile sensual experience, no matter how it shows up, and sometimes, that means food.  Or sometimes it means just stepping out of my jeans and wading into the ocean in my panties.  I love myself, and I would never deny myself anything. Just like, I would never deny my loved ones anything.  I love you, so I will never deny you anything.  We talked about love today a lot, too.  I think, somewhere in the cosmos, my weight is just me wearing my "Refuser of None" nature on my frame.  I won't turn down an amazing meal made with love. I won't speculate about calories, or potential consequences. If someone (including myself, because I love myself) fixes me a delicious meal, or takes me out..then I embrace it with full openness and really fucking live that moment, taking in every bit.

My friend. He was so appalled on my behalf, so protective, so hurt.  I'm not.  He's gained a lot of weight in the past few years, and I think it's settling on him nicely.  He looks very rugged and deliciously primal.  I don't think he's ok with his size, yet.  I think that's why he freaked out.  A shot at my fatness was a shot at him.  I want to empower him, so he doesn't feel self conscious about that kind of thing either.  He's beautiful.  I am too.

another sorta beach dream

I had a dream that I remember!  It doesn't feel especially significant, except that it had a load of recurring elements in it, that show up in other dreams.  Maybe as I write it, I'll get it.  Why so many Asian girls? Why the color scheme?   Why a school setting?  It's always school or a resort.  In this case, the apartment felt resort-like, it had a dreamy vacation feel, but it wasn't a huge communal thing like they are mostly.



I was in some class, like a drafting class, or something about technical drawing. The classroom had lots of long tables, and I recall there being lots of tools and accessories scattered around, and we all sat at long tables, shoulder to shoulder.  It was crowded.  I sat next to a young Korean girl, maybe in her early 20's.  We became friends, and she invited me to her house. Only "me" was "us" but I can't recall who was with me, they didn't really show up in my dream, except that there was a distinct "us" feeling about it.  So, we went to her place. It was a really nice sort of studio apartment, with a second floor mezzanine circling the main room, and it was directly on the beach.  Like, walk out the door onto sand.  The dominant colors were blue and white and grey, also, windswept and not at all sunny which seems to be typical beach colors for my dream. Muted, cool.  Every beach is the same pale grey sand, blue sky, grey-blue water.

So, she invited us to her place, and she hunted all over the apartment for food.  She wound up feeding us the Korean equivalent to fancy party food, like appetizers, and delicious little sweets.  It was a pleasant experience.  There was a lot of fun and kinda had a "girly sleep over" feel, with laughing and being playful.

We saw each other in school later, and were still very friendly, laughing about the previous day.  Everything seemed totally cool.  Halfway through the class, her mother showed up, furious, looking for the people that ate her food.  The girl apologized to the mother, and was deeply ashamed.  It wasn't her place, she lived with parents, and they were just out for the day.  She moved away from me, and I got the distinct feeling that the friendship was over, just like that.  Then, shortly after, a bunch of new people flooded into the class, and while I was up talking to the girl and her mother, they took my seat, got rid of my stuff, and I was the only one left standing.  As if I never had a spot, to begin with.  Massive anxiety.  So, I left the class.

The last thing I remember was being outside, by that beach again, which was also close to the class room, leaning over a rail.  Outside, I felt distinctly better, and had that "us" feeling again.  I saw people I recognized off in the distance, hanging out on the beach, people I liked and felt comfortable around, and it went a long way to making me feel better.





I'll read this a few times, and figure out what it could mean.  It didn't bother me, and it didn't feel all that significant.

[4] I'm writing a lot more now.  Sometimes I just need to be kicked into motion.

Insomnia tonight.  Insomnia every "night before". I feel like a kid on Christmas. Too wound up to sleep. I literally started writing a shopping list, for tomorrow, and cleaning the bathroom.  I try to fill the whole day with stuff, because if I sit idle, I'm liable to start biting my nails again.  Who the fuck am I kidding? There is no sitting idle.  There is only nervous energy.

It's a good feeling.  I hope it never wears off.  That anticipation and longing that comes with being in love, and loved.

I thought I was going to write earlier, but playing Borderlands 2 with Tutt and Luiz was offered, so I went with that.  I turned down playing last night, so I could sit in quiet contemplation. I needed it after yesterday.  Tonight was fun.  Sometimes, it's just because I can laugh for two hours straight, and it brings me back to old times, so many times over.  Back to 2005, when Tutt and I first met and created our adventuring team.  Thousands of needless deaths, and like at least fifteen games later, we're still a total horror show.  When we both first started playing Star Wars: The Old Republic, last year, we were both in this lavish city, and we spied some decorative pit in the center, filled with white light.  As one, totally spontaneously, we both went charging for the railing and dove over it...and died.  Luiz went on a 30 minute tirade about our antics, and how we should have grown out of them already.  What can I say? I'm eternally a kid.  Tutt and I have gotten into some hilarious trouble together, and I wouldn't trade that for any amount of headshots in the world.  What are the stories we tell, five, ten years down the line? The fucking funny ones.

I get that Tutt doesn't have a load of joy in his life right now, so I'm glad he's got this escapism.  It's good for all of us.

Looking forward to tomorrow night.  Looking forward to making some Thai food and drinking some Maker's.

[6]  I don't generally sit to write like this, but I'm on a tear.  I did a huge cathartic bunch of writing today. The medicinal kind.  If it doesn't fix anything else, just the putting it out will fix my heart and answer my questions.

I must be fine now, because I'm watching darkwave videos and my skin feels slightly carbonated. Sisters of Mercy reminds me of the best time I ever had in my life, being ignored.  I think about that time a lot, because this time of year is when it hit it's inevitable and violent turn.

I looked through all the bands in my iTunes. Studied each band thinking if that was the direction I wanted to take tonight.  I wanted Steve Earle, I have to take a break from that album. I keep hovering over it, and deciding against it.  I'm obsessing some.  I hope it doesn't become some tragic soundtrack in my life like Sisters.  So, I went Peter Murphy.  His sound is so acidic and acerbic it'll shatter anything clean, sterile even.  Peter Murphy leads to Bauhaus leads to Sisters of Mercy.  Why am I so maudlin all of a sudden?

I haven't done this since Saturday.  Sunday I couldn't even. I would have thrown myself into the bay.  Monday I was too busy freaking out for Tuesday, the elections. Tuesday, the elections, and I was passed out by 10:30 on the couch.  So, tonight.  I'm glad of it tonight. After earlier, my heart is light.

Hearing his voice is like being wrapped in a rich warm blanket, the oldest, most comfortable, favorite.  It's got the power to blast my mind blank. We're so awkward with the talking.  We were awkward at everything, once upon a time. We get over it.

Is my head empty yet? It should be after earlier.  Just sloshing the last bits out.

I'm listening to Transcendental Blues, now.  I couldn't stay away. It fills my heart.  It's not all wonderful.  I've read the lyrics to "Everyone's in Love With You"  That's a little much.  Then there's "I Don't Want To Lose You Yet" which is the most perfect capture, the most hopeful, and the one I love the most.

I'm having fun here, listening and analyzing the lyrics, but I think I'm going to go immerse myself in the Scottish Highlands of 1743.  I love this book, Outlander.  Lots of lush setting and purple prose.  Breathless sexuality.  Darkwave moody mood passed.