Right after I post the last entry, I got this ICQ message and a URL from some random user:

"Want REAL quality porno,lesbians and young teens photosets ? Have a look at this great collection !"

AIEEE. hehe.

From Sarah's blogger (I can't find a way to link to just that entry):

when this one girl i work with started, one time she was talking to her boyfriend on the phone, and it turns out that esentially, the topic came up of whether or not i was single, and for whatever reason it was assumed that i was a lesbian (which, i am not)...? how does that even..? gah. i may not be the girliest person around, but.. girls don't turn me on, man... sheesh. um. i've constantly been "assumed" to be gay for what seems my whole life. i remember vivid moments for example, like in grade 4, or the one i can't shake the most: walking down the hall in grade 9 and this kid matt (who is an occasional customer at work, and i think about this everytime his jerk ass is in the store) was standing still and he just kinda turned his head and whispered: "dyke." whatthe?"

Gah! I know exactly what you're talking about, Sarah. For some reason, people assumed the same about me. Mostly in high school, around that age. Just because I don't slather on lipstick and flirt coquettishly, I obviously romantically prefer women. What?!? It pisses me off. Not because I'm opposed to people being lesbians, but because I'm not one. A label like that can hurt, especially in high school when it would be to die a social death to admit to being homosexual. Then, in college, Sam joked all the time that I was a lesbian. It really pissed me off after awhile. I'm sorry he had a hard time dealing with who he really was/is, but that's no reason to try to make me try to look like I don't know who I am. Just because you don't fit some "perfect female" mold doesn't mean that you can't be heterosexual.

On the other hand, it bothers me that I have such a strong reaction to such a comment. There's nothing wrong with homosexuality, but it's not who I am. I just don't like being misrepresented, I suppose. I want people to like me for who I am, not like or dislike me because I fit into a stereotype of one sort or another.

From "Little Plastic Castle", by Ani Difranco:
people talk about my image
like i come in two dimensions
like lipstick is a sign of my declining mind
like what i happen to be wearing the day
that someone takes my picture
is my new statement for all of womankind

i wish they could see us now
in leather bras and rubber shorts
like some ridiculous team uniform
for some ridiculous new sport
quick someone call the girl police
and file a report

To all those people in junior high and high school who felt the need to judge the book by the cover.. I apologize if I confused you by not being girly enough. I hope I didn't shatter your perfect little world.

What makes someone your friend? What makes someone worth the time to get to know them so they can be your friend?

I've been thinking about the nature of friendship, and the nature of humans. Traditionally, I get along with a lot of "difficult" people. I always figured it might be a little bit more work maintaining such a friendship, but you get the reward of a truly unique individual as a friend. It's the nature of people's personalities and how much they expose that either make a friendship work, or make it easy (or hard). Deep down, I believe most people are decent humans. But we all have a shell, of sorts. Some people have thicker shells, consisting of arrogance, surliness, obnoxiousness, etc. A lot of times, if you work through these "shells", you see the true person inside, and you see the reasons for their actions: low self-esteem, etc. I think as we get to know ourselves better, more of our true selves shine through.

Is this making any sense?

Anyhow, my point is... I'm getting more and more annoyed with people's "shells". I'm tired of trying to look for the good person underneath the layers of utter crap that surround some people. I just don't have the patience for it. I've spent a lot of my life "working" with people.. putting up with being treated badly, after having convinced myself that there'd be a big payoff in the end: The person would "find themselves", and then it'd all be ok. There'd be no reason for the arrogance, surliness, whatever. I've come to the realization that alot of people will never "find themselves." (I hate to use such a trite phrase.) They'll always be plagued with self-doubt, and it shows on the outside, in how they treat others. I know who I am, and I don't want to spend my life helping others figure out who they are.

I guess part of what I'm saying is that I don't want to be around people that make me uncomfortable, either through their actions towards others or their actions towards me. Shyness I can deal with.. it's not abject rudeness. But when you feel you have to watch out for a friend, defend them in their absence.. it's just not worth it. Of course, everyone goes through phases where they have problems, and I'm not about to condemn anyone for being a little flaky... God knows I was for a very long time (and still am, to a degree.)

I never had to "discover" what was inside my two best friends, Aimee and Jay. I met Aimee in 9th grade. I knew she was a nice person when she asked me, a new student, to sit with her in Honor Society. There was no arrogance, insolence, contempt, or anything there. Our friendship has had its ups and downs, but I never have said, "I don't know who she is inside." Even when I find her actions questionable, I know that she's the same person she always was. With Jay, it was the same way. From the first day we met, in person, I found him charming and entertaining. My opinion of him has not changed (for the worse) as I've gotten to know him better. There was an instant connection, and I felt at ease with him at once. As our relationship has progressed, it's been so... relatively easy. With my former boyfriends, there's always been an undercurrent of tension (and we're not talking sexual tension) that has soured the relationship. I've always felt the need to defend them, and their actions. "He's a good guy, deep down, really. He means the best..." With Jay, there is no "deep down." He's just a good guy. I don't have to defend him. He's shy, sure, but that's it. He's never treated me badly. We have fun together, and it's great.

It makes me think of something Aimee mentioned to me a long time ago... we were driving down Richmond Road, in Lexington, talking about relationships. I think this was shortly after one of my breakups with someone after a short courtship. Aimee said, "You shouldn't have to work at a relationship." I all but laughed at her at the time.. of course you have to work at a relationship... otherwise, it'd fall apart. Now I see that Aimee was right (at least mostly). A good, solid relationship shouldn't require tons of "work". It should come naturally. Of course, you have to communicate, etc. But a real relationship doesn't have to be filled with tension and bad feelings. If the feelings aren't mostly good, why are you in the relationship in the first place? (Of course, ever relationship might have their crisis periods.. and everyone has their ups and downs. Sometimes one person needs more than the other person, sometimes it's the opposite. It's give and take. But generally, I think it should balance out.)

And so I think alot of this conjecture and reasoning that goes along with romantic relationships applies to friendships as well. It shouldn't be a constant battle, or dread over seeing someone, or fear that someone will make an ass out of themselves on a constant basis. Allowing for ups and downs, of course. We seek out friends because we want companionship, and love (of sorts.) We don't seek out friends to make us feel bad. (I am an italics fiend today.)

I guess for a lot of people it's hard to know when to burn bridges (myself included.) When does the friendship cross that line between more negativity than positive feelings? With years of history between you, how can you cut someone out of your life? It's not an easy decision to make. But rarely does it have to be a final decision. I've refound some connections with people that I'd put out of my life for one reason or another. The friendships aren't as strong, but really, they can't be. The reasons that you took the person voluntarily out of your circle of existence still are there, and people don't change that much. And if I've had my integrity, honesty, or intelligence severely insulted, I'm going to want to think twice before approaching that person again.

I've completely lost my point here. It started out about how everyone has a shell, or a wall around them. I've just lost my patience with walls. Maybe I seem like more of a recluse than I used to be. Maybe I am. Maybe that's irrelevant. I'm happy to have the close friends that I do. But I refuse to take crap from anybody anymore. :)

(please don't read this as me being mad or angry with anyone in particular, it's not about that. I'm just stating thoughts I've been having as of late.)

Last night I fell asleep at probably 1 am.

At 2:45 am, I wake up. I'd evidently gone into REM pretty quickly, and had an extensive dream. I can't remember the gist of it, but my ex-boyfriend Keith had been sleeping vertically in a sleeping bag (any dream with him in it can only be a nightmare). Someone had been killed (someone I knew, but it was actually Winona Ryder.) I didn't know about it, but I suspected. Anyhow, I find my mom. She's doing laundry, and she has a forced cheerfulness about her. I asked her where the person who was actually Winona Ryder is. "We'll talk about that later." "No, Mom, where is she? Is she dead?" Mom just kind of nodded. Then I noticed my sister wasn't around. "Mom, where's Shannon?" "No, we really will talk about that later." "NO. MOM, WHERE'S SHANNON?" She looked at me and started crying. And then I started crying, as hard as I've ever cried. "What happened? Was it.." "Yes, the sewage people.. they said if she went back..."

It made no sense to me, either. All I knew in the dream was that Shannon was dead. I cried and cried and cried. It occurred to me, in the dream, that it might not be real, and I woke up. I was still in the cusp of dreamland and awake-land, and I crawled over to the phone (at the end of my bed), got enough light from the window to dial (damn non-lighted keypads), and called home. (I was rational enough to know Shannon was probably still up, playing online.) She answered the phone.
"I just wanted to call to make sure you were ok. I had a bad dream."
"No, Colleen, I'm fine. It's ok."
"Ok. I'm going back to bed. Stay away from sewage."
"Ok, goodnight."
"I love you."
"I love you too, Colleen. Goodnight."

I probably freaked her out. hehe. But I had to make sure she was ok.

Blah. I had taken a painkiller before bed, to make sure I didn't wake up with my ear hurting. I wonder if that's effecting my dreams. The rest of the night was uneventful, as far as I remember. But that dream was a doozy.

I just almost choked on a Jolly Rancher.

It was probably small enough for me to swallow, but it scared me nonetheless. I see why my parents wouldn't let me have hard candy when we were little. Maybe they shouldn't let me have it now.

Standard Monday morning complaint
Jesus, I'm tired.

Now that that's done with...

This weekend started crappy. Friday morning I woke up with my right ear burning. OK, pretty common, despite the fact I use eardrops EVERY NIGHT now, and that should keep it from happening. I put some peroxide in it, forget about it, and go to work. In the five minutes on the way to work it starts hurting in the most MAJOR way. An hour later, I was ready to cry. I called and made a Dr's appointment for 11:15 am. By that point, I was ready to cut off my ear with a pair of unsterilized scissors. He looks in my ear, and it's so swollen he could only see 1/4 of my eardrum. I had a bad case of external media acute, and a developing otitis media acute. (Outer and middle ear infections). I got a nice prescription of oral antibiotics, otic (ear) antibiotics, and a nice painkiller. I took the rest of the afternoon off and laid in bed, half-high on painkillers (the generic version of Vicodin.) Luckily, that killed the earache, and as the antibiotics started to kick in, the pain actually subsided. It's been hurting off and on all weekend, and my hearing's been substantially dulled, but it's not a tenth as bad as it was on Friday. I'm very very thankful for that.

Later, on Friday night, I went to Patrick's (and Jody's, after some debate) birthday party, at Heath's. The theme was: Offensive t shirts. You had to make your own. Since I had neither the time nor energy to create an entire t shirt, I cut up a cheap t shirt my parents had bought me in Mexico (SO cheap that it's truly see-through. I couldn't even wear it in my own home without feeling like a 'ho.) I cut out a block of fabric, and wrote "I Kathie Lee Gifford" on it, and pinned it to my shirt. The best one I saw (most offensive) was Jody's...
Side one: "Jesus is coming."
Side two: "Grab a tissue."

It's bad. hehe.

I only stayed at the party for two hours, because I'm not a huge fan of parties, I wasn't drinking, and I generally felt like crap.

Saturday I went to Florence and picked up Jay. We went to Pizza Hut, played with Catherine, his kitty (she's so cute. We petted her in tandem for like ten minutes. She ate it up.), then we went to Sam's so he could look at a computer, with Jay driving. hehe. Later, I let Lizzy (who's had her learner's for two days... well, had at that point), drive to Barnes and Nobles, and Jay drove back. Lizzy did really well for driving for two days. They were driving their mom's car, of course. No one's driving my car until they have a license. Finally, Jay and I arrived in Lexington, went to Kroger, and came back to my place. I prepared veggies and meat to marinate for kebabs the next day, and we baked a cake.

Sunday we made said kebabs, and they were really good. I also took my first stab at preparing basmati rice, and it wasn't bad. It smells SO yummy. I bought cumin seed at Kroger, and the "quality seal" had already been opened, so that's going back. I'm not using any already-opened cumin. Anyhow, later in the afternoon we went to play putt putt at the Bible Putt Putt owned by the YMCA around the corner from my apartment. It was the cheesiest thing ever. Beth, take note: If you ever visit Lexington, we are so going to play Bible Putt Putt. There was a Noah's Art. OK, no big deal. But there was a CROSS on Noah's Ark. Let's think about this for a second: Noah's Ark is Old Testmament, pre-Jesus. A cross represents Jesus, which is the New Testament. Maybe the Noah they envisioned was a really forward thinker. At the end of the course there was this plastic box on a stand, probably three feet by three feet. There were various international looking Barbies sitting on a hill, with a few international male dolls of various origins thrown in there. There were some open Bibles around the perimeter. All the dolls look well played-with. There was a large inflatable earth (small beach-ball sized) above the Barbies. There was a button to press, and it playeh "Love in any Language." It was the cheesiest thing EVER. "Campy," Jay said. Truly truly campy. hehe.

Later that evening Jay and I went to Bella Notte, and then went to walk around the UK campus so he could get a feel for it. After that day, I was very very tired and slightly sunburnt.

So that brings us to this morning, where it's nearly 11 am, and I've not done too much but correct some typos. I also have a bunch of timesheets to fill out, so I guess I'll do that right now.

I'm trying to integrate my Blogger look with my website look.
I think it's working well.

I saw Moulin Rouge yesterday. It was like Disney on absinthe. It was nice eye-candy. I don't know what what I think of it overall, though.

The weather has been icky lately. It's been all rainy and stuff. June seems to be a very rainy drizzly time in Lexington. Wow, this is the fifth summer I've spent in Lexington. It's weird to think. The last long period of time I spent in WV was after graduation in May of 1998. I think I was there five or six days. I'm not sure. I've been there four or five days at a time since then, I think. Whenever I'm there, I feel like I'm always rushed, trying to see everyone. And I know I tend to get snappy towards my parents... my patience is in general worn thin by the situation.

I went to Florence on Saturday. We didn't do much, just sat around Jay's house. We did get locked out by Jay's brother. He thought we were going to Lexington, so locked the door when he left. Jay has no key. We tried to open the windows, to no avail. Finally, Jay unscrewed a doorknob, and jimmied the lock. We were in, finally. I accidentally bent my glasses, so we had to take them to the Lenscrafters at the mall to get them straightened. We also attempted to make an easy peach cobbler, and it came out all bad. It tasted fine, but it wasn't something you'd wanna eat over and over. Raw cake mix, basically, in a soupy peach sauce. hehe. The recipe called for dry cake mix to be put on top of canned peaches, and then for butter to be put on top of that. We get home with the necessary ingredients to find out we had no butter, so instead we use a little Crisco. I really don't think that was the death of the recipe, though. The whole thing turned out like raw cake batter with canned peaches in it. Umm. interesting.

Does it mean I'm getting old if hot dogs give me indigestion? Blech.

I have nothing exciting to tell here, so I'm going to stop right now. hehe.