Twitter Is My Shrink

I had a new kind of breakdown last night. It was different from the others in that I wasn't sobbing hysterically or angry or hurt or feeling anything other than...well, I'm not really sure what I was feeling. Not jealousy. Maybe envy tinged with regret. But I knew, years ago, that the regret would come. It was one of those, "I'm going to do THIS. I know THIS is going to make me feel like THIS in the future, so don't complain about it when it happens." I'm not exactly complaining. Just trying to write out and understand the feelings. So. I "went off" several times in 140 characters or less. It's nothing explosive, you see. Just stuff that was in my head that needed to get out. It seemed like it should be a blog instead, so here I am. I'm not re-formatting or re-wording anything, as tonight's emotions would color what I wrote last night.


Reading a blog of a person I used to call "friend"--I can't call anyone "Friend" b/c I'm not one anymore. It hurts to see what I've missed..

I have limitations, mostly monetary, some mental, & I HAVE2live w/i my limits. I've always been "Baby in the corner" b/c I put myself there.

It's easier to be away from everyone for me. My head is so full, I can't focus on anything. So i'm trying to focus on ME, as everyone says 2

I've never really been part of a group. I'm the one on the outskirts, watching, feeling, emoting, not feeling cared for. Still there.

So I don't trust easily. And when I do, it usually ends up badly. So. No trusting. No friends. No fun. All raw emotion and nowhere to put it

It makes me wish that I was taught the RIGHT way to be a human, to be a person. I wasn't. No one taught me. They thought I already knew.

But I don't. And that's why I get the looks, or the cold shoulder, from mostly everyone. "Oh, Sam's here. Ok." I'd like to walk into a room

like my little David Mays and get the "Norm" treatment. I don't want to take anything away from my David, b/c I adore him, but I'm jealous

of that little fucker. I won't lie. He's awesome. Even when he's DOWN, he's awesome. And I don't have the tools to be there for him.

I lost my dad before he lost his, so I should have known how to show him how to get through it. But I'm not like everyone else, so I can't.

I have to concentrate all my energies on surviving, not dying, and just staying afloat. Everyone else has great "salaried" careers. I don't.

My only problem w/that is the $$$ I don't have to go places & do things. So I'm at home. I had what I would call a successful theatre career

In my time in the theatre, I worked on or participated in 200 or more shows and did a fairly decent job. THAT was my career. I have retired

from the theatre due2some BULL SHIT that was thrown at me. Now I'm becoming even more hermity as a writer, my FIRST love, & ppl don't get it

And I certainly don't expect them to. I was raised NOT to have friends, but acquaintances. I didn't do sleepovers, phone calls. I did recess

And having acquaintances seems much safer than the alternative.I wasted SEVEN years on some mess. Thankfully I got the gist of that mess on

paper, which is Story #1. Thanks for the life experience, Dbag. (Yes, DBag. The anger comes nearly a decade later.) I was stunted by this

experience, and wasn't able to be open and giving at a time when I needed to be, or needed something from them(something being support)

I'm even more closed off now. I focus my emotions on the stories I'm trying to develop. I want, I need, I would like to have, but why give

voice to those things I won't ever have? I wasn't put on this earth for anything other than to learn and create. I wasn't put here 2 love or

be loved. I'm here to experience all the bad, take it in so that others won't necessarily have to experience it. I'm the empath. I feel what

others feel, but hold no excitement, love, peace, serenity, happiness for myself. It's not to be. I feel as if I was hatched from an egg.

I got the worst version of parents available. Sure, I blame them for a BUNCH of stuff, at the beginning, but then who's at fault later?

Their influence was there, of course, but then I got to be "on my own" ish and went nutbag crazy. And went downhill from there.

The. End.



That's it. It's disjointed. It's imperfect. It's real. It's vulnerable. It's true. There's no "Throw me a pity party" here, not an explanation, but just the way I feel and have felt. I would say I'm more of an observer, but my sightlines have diminished quite a bit since I started throwing people off my island.

Only in My Dreams

So I just woke up. I was having a dream, and I really needed to wake up from it. It wasn't a nightmare, but it did make me sad.

Ok, so I was...somewhere...and I was by myself, I think I was at a camp site or in the lot of a concert site or something, but there's available storage, or a car, not sure which. In my mind, it's one of my old bedrooms from my childhood, the blue one with all the sun. But it's pretty much just me, a chair and an umbrella, which I'm getting ready to set up on some rocks. I have a tent in this room, but as I tell the person who latches onto me, I'm not putting up the tent b/c my nieces and nephew and their mother used it for a camping trip and it's all wet and fishy inside. This person, a female, kind of a cross between "Mellie'/"November" from Dollhouse and the lesbian from my 8th grade year who kept trying to sleep with me. (Just for the record, EW.). I think this is one reason I'm not setting up the tent. I also mention that we're on top of gravelly rocks and I just want my chair.

All of a sudden, this vision kind of just goes away, and I'm at this super awesome cabin in the woods at a huge party. There are tons of people there, and I know most of them, but, in real life, I don' t recognize them. Like, I don't see Lauren and Jimmy, but I can feel Richard and Carlye. Sort of. I know these people have been my friends, but I'm not sure about now. I sense an ill feeling, like not everyone likes me. And I just want to go out for a cigarette. I think the weirdo from earlier is kind of there, I think, trying to get me to be alone with her--ish. I think I go out for a cigarette, which I don't remember, and go back in and people are talking about my "rival."

For some reason, I'm really craving another cigarette. I think it's chilly outside, so I'm looking for my black hoodie---which I haven't worn in years; it's my Stage Manager hoodie that I retired a few years ago--and I thought I had put it on the loveseat by the front door. I looked, not there. I looked around a bit and returned to the loveseat but there were people on it. I saw what looked like it, but didn't really pay attention.

I went back into another room to look and people were telling me my rival was there. Insanely curious, but really looking for my jacket so I could go smoke, I walk back into the front room, where the girl who plays "Mia," I think, on Days of Our Lives, is coming towards me with a big fake smile and a present. She smiles at me, holds up her present, says something, and keeps walking. (This is strange in real life b/c A. I don't have a rival, and 2. I don't watch Days a whole lot anymore, but I did see a scene with this girl, and she was carrying around a present.)

She continues on into the back of the house, but it seems the place is abuzz with the news that the "Rivals" are in the same place. "Rival" is the term from my dream, not the one I chose.

I continue my search for my jacket, but soon give it up, willing to freeze. I head toward the front door and it opens to reveal...Brian Jones.

(Brian Jones is the name of my second grade crush(which I just now remembered), and also the name of a very talented actor from UCO, and one boy I never had in my sights. He was already taken(by pure Evil) by the time I met him. Sure, he was cute, talented, smart, but I never thought of him in a lustful, gotta have you kind of way. I barely knew him.)

So. In walks UCO actor Brian Jones, and I think he's wearing a letterman-style coat. I can feel the material beneath my cheek when I hug him. Apparently he's my fiance. And he used to be "Mia's." I'm excited and grateful to see him. The paparazzi didn't follow him. He's a soap actor. H

He asks me what I'm doing. I want a cigarette and I'm looking for my jacket. I drag him all over the cabin to find it, again. I think I see it under someone's butt on the loveseat and try to pull it from under them, but I give up, thinking it's not my jacket. I say, "I give up. I'll just freeze." So Brian and I go outside on the porch where we're mostly alone. That's when I notice I'm wearing my ugly winter coat. I chastise Brian for not telling me that I was already wearing one. But I didn't have it on inside. And it's warm enough outside not to be wearing one, so I shed it and leave it on the porch before I lean my cheek against his chest. My hand goes up to feel his neck, his cheek, his hair. I can't remember if I say it first, or he does, but one of us says, "I love you." The other says it back.

I feel surprised to hear the words. I think I said it first. "I love you." And he says, "I love you, too." And he means it. Experimentally, I say it again, with more feeling, and cuddling into him. He says it back again. I can feel his love. We just stand there with our arms around each other, and then I wake up.

I made myself wake up. I was too disturbed by this. I have never said these words to a person and really meant it. Actually, I've only said these words, for this kind of love, once, in a refurbished barn, to someone who didn't deserve it or say it back. But I've never said it to someone and them said it back, him knowing every bit of me and still saying it. But I felt it when he said it back. And in that moment, I was incredibly happy, and fulfilled. For that second. Until I woke up, incredibly confused as to why I was dreaming about a boy I didn't even really know, haven't thought about in a long time.

I'm sure this is all fraught with meaning, but it doesn't matter. Humans have a basic need for love. I want it, sure, but I'm not going to get it. Logically speaking, it's ok. I've already come to terms with what I'm not going to have. Mostly because I don't want it. I don't want anyone to know me that well again. No, I don't want to get hurt again, so there's a wall between me and everyone else. It's safer for me to do this, easier to keep everyone at arm's length, because I know that the only person who I could love that wholly and could love me back like that doesn't exist. There isn't a man alive who could put up with/deal with/be with me. And that's ok. It doesn't keep me from wanting all that, but once I realized that isn't going to happen, and that's not going to be what fulfills me, that I have another plan, another purpose on this earth, it's fine.

Yes, it's lonely. Yes, I would love to cuddle on the couch watching a movie on a cold night, or spend a whole rainy Sunday in bed, but that isn't my destiny. I don't have big dreams, or aspirations. I just do what I can, what I have to to survive and keep myself busy. I've cut a lot of people out of my inner circle...right now, I have two straight females in that inner circle, a gay man, and two other straight girls in the next circle, a couple of couples in the next and the one after is where I put the one straight boy I talked to. Everyone else is just about inconsequential. They fall where they fall. I keep them away b/c my friendship is inconsequential. They live their lives, and I'm a fringe friend. I've been like this since I was a kid.

So, it's nothing new.

Mommy Blogging

So there's been all this hoopla about Mommy Blogging, and what basically boils down to payola or bribes or whatever. Mommies talk about the products they use, and then big companies send them freebies or whatever, so then the Mommies say that whatever product they just got is the best thing ever and that everyone should be using them-even if it's a car seat made out of jello.

Mommies like free stuff. And Mommies talk to other Mommies about things they buy.

Guess who also does that?

Single people. We, too, talk about the products that work and don't work, but we have to pay for them--I don't see anyone sending me a DVR, or video game, or even a free sample of yogurt. If I got something awesome like that, for free, to try out, I would shout it from the roof tops, even if the product wasn't all that good. It's free, and the company had the goodwill to try it out on me.

See, even if a product didn't hit me just right, maybe something I said might hit someone else the right way. Just b/c it doesn't work for me, I wouldn't bad mouth a product. But I wouldn't rave about it, either, just so the company would keep sending me stuff. If it wasn't for me, I would find someone else who would enjoy it.

FTC needs to get off the bloggers' backs...but on the other side of that coin, the bloggers need to up their integrity and not do things that could possibly endanger people.

That being said.....If anyone out there has products you would like ME to try...chocolate, motor oil, computer software, sewing needles, you go on ahead and contact me. If I don't like your product, I will tell you first, and I'll tell you why. I wouldn't bad mouth you without a reason.

Beer Basics from BeerBitch12

Ales vs. Lagers

The word Ale may come from the Old English "ealu," or even further, "alut," which holds connotations of "sorcery, magic, possession, intoxication."






Lager, comes from "lagern," which
means "to store."






An Ale is a type of beer using top-fermented yeast, fermented at higher temps so they ferment faster than lagers. These higher temps produce significant amount of esters, which give the beer a fruity quality, whether it be pineapple, apple, banana, etc., so they have a sweeter, fuller body than lagers.




A Lager is a type of beer that uses bottom-fermented yeast that ferments at lower temperatures at the bottom of the vessel. They are usually light in color and usually fall into one of the three following categories: helles, pale lager or Pilsner. Because of the type of yeast and temperatures used, lagers are more mild than ales and have less fruitiness and spiciness to them, as the lower temps don't release as many esters as in a lager.




That was Beer Lesson #1

Next up: Beer Laws of Oklahoma!

Beginner's Sake 101

Just a few facts, a little information for anyone interested in Sake...


--Sake is often called the "Drink of the Gods" by the Japanese and is produced from rice, water, koji spores and specially selected yeasts.

--Sake is brewed like beer but drinks like a wine, and has 15-16% alcohol per volume (apv).

--Premium sake is to regular sake what Single Malt Scotch is to the blends.

--Premium sake is brewed by family craftsman rather than large industrial manufacturers, and is made by hand rather than machine.

--Premium sake is gluten-free, sulfite free and kosher.

--Sake can be served chilled or warm, at body temperature, and not piping hot, as heat destroys the flavor.



Levels of Sake

Junmai-shu --highest grade of sake made with pure rice and uses less than 70% polished rice. It ends up heavier and tasting fuller than other sake.

Honjozo-shu--has a small amount of ethyl alcohol added during the final stages. Water is added later to keep the alcohol content the same. It's lighter and drier than others and can be served warm.

Ginjo-shu--uses 60% polished rice and is fermented even longer than Junmai, which results in a complex and delicate flavor.

Daiginjo-shu--like Ginjo but the rice is polished to 50% of the original size and takes even longer to make.

Futsuu-shu is any sake that doesn't fit into one of the other categories.

Oklahoma gets a good deal of Futsuu, but the Premium Ginjo is rising in popularity, and is starting to be made available.

Class dismissed!




Info comes from Vine Connections, wineintro.com, and The Sake Handbook.

There's no clever title today.

I will straight up admit it.

I do not like to see other people happy.

I am fucking irate today.

I am not sure why, exactly.

It's like the PMS/PMDD is extending itself beyond its time, but is EXTREMELY bad RIGHT NOW.


It's August 11, 2009.

So what, right? It's Danyel and Jon Jon's wedding anniversary. It's Turner's birthday. It's Dave Bewley's birthday...It's Derek Bewley's birthday.

Aha.

Wonderful.

So I am in a rage because of THAT? AGAIN? REALLY?

I am really hoping not.

But, yes, as one of my facebook statuses(stati?) I said something about the 4th or 5th worst day of my life being 8/11/02...Right after May 25, 2005, July 1, 2002, and graduation day 2003, or May 3, 2003.

Yes, I know the dates.

Each one is engraved on my mind and soul for all time.

Not to be overly dramatic, or anything.

I am seriously pissed off.

I guess.

I am not entirely sure WHAT I am feeling.

Let's dissect.

I am completely broke. I have no money for gas and I have no idea how I am getting home and back to work tomorrow. Every literal penny I have is gone. I cannot get out of the ghetto that I call home. I can't eat this week.

I am stuck in fucking limbo.

I can't even explain myself well enough, can't get my ideas across, about something I am passionate about...and when I try, I end up losing.

Quitters never win, yes? Well, I wish I had never started.

Why do you have a fake id?/So I can vote.

My childhood is dying, right before my eyes.

Michael Jackson, dead at the age of 50, due to a dr. who couldn't say "No" to the King of Pop, and instead enabled his disease, thereby killing him with a drug that should ONLY be used in ORs, under the careful watch and guidance of an anestheologist.

Not that I had his posters up and was totally enamored of him...I didn't realize how big of a fan I was til I found out he was gone. Sounds about right, for my life.

John Hughes, founder of Shermer, Illinois, director of all 80s movies that really mattered, died today of a heart attack while walking down the street with his family in NYC. "The city claims another victim," so sayeth Jenn Turner.

WTF?

Creator of Sixteen Candles, Weird Science, The Breakfast Club...Mr. Mom, even. I grew up on this stuff. THIS is what has made me [partially] the smart ass I am today. As sophomoric as "they" say the humor was, it seemed real. It seemed that every Samantha would get her Jake(ha!) and that all misfits had a place. It gave us hope.

Now what do we have? Vampires that sparkle in the sun?

THAT's not hopeful.

THAT's faggy.

RIP John Hughes.