<!-- --><style type="text/css">@import url(https://www.blogger.com/static/v1/v-css/navbar/3334278262-classic.css); div.b-mobile {display:none;} </style> </head> <body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d13240712\x26blogName\x3dMenTal+fUrbAll\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dSILVER\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttp://amber7211.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_US\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://amber7211.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d7038441246555938682', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script> Today's Honoured Guest

my peeps The Boys

RaJ
Tayster
factory_peasant
Surfer Mitch

Scared Bunny
Jake
Hof

my peeps The Girls

Sass
Steff
Crystal

Lyvvie
Cate
OEN
--spared--

Rachel
bitchy

Pajiba
Dlisted
Janet Charlton
MPH
Go Fug Yourself

the pretty pictures

Tristan Roy
Owen Billcliffe
No Traces
Sam Javanrouh

the professionals blog

Radiohead
Matthew Good
Margaret Cho
Rick Mercer
Tony Pierce
Whil Wheaton
Waiter

shameless self promotion

My Photo
Name:
Location: Ontario, Canada

blue eyes, crooked teeth, intellectual, goofball, slacker, socialist.


Stuff and Nonsense

MY POETRY
ShittyBlogSurvivor






Blogarama - The Blog Directory


My influence
[1338.4]

Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 License.

Powered by Blogger

I humbly appologise for any and all spelling mistakes I make while leaving comments on your blog :) You LOVE Me THIS much

What Came Before

2005.05 2005.06 2005.07 2005.08 2005.09 2005.10 2005.11 2005.12 2006.01 2006.02 2006.03 2006.04 2006.05 2006.06 2006.07 2006.08 2006.09 2006.10 2006.11 2006.12 2007.01 2007.02 2007.03 2007.04 2007.05 2007.06 2007.07 2007.08 2007.09 2007.10 2007.11 2007.12 2008.01 2008.02 2008.03 2008.04 2008.05 2008.07 2008.09 2008.10 2009.01 2010.01 2010.03 2010.05


From the ghost land of the easy life.

15 February 2006

nobody loves me it's true :
I'm always wanting. I want to be liked, want to find love, want to be happy. Maybe I spend too much time wanting and not enough doing. There has been and seems to be continuing to be - a distinct lack of love in my life. Can't say that my family was particularly good at giving love, affection, support or encouragement. Infact growing up I was under the distinct impression I was a burden more than anything else. It's hard to get the idea you are just a problem out of your head. It's what I realised last night.

For some reason, Valentine's Day aside - last night I was very sad. So sad some fidiot on the phone made me insane and I had to come home. Seriously it made me so mad I wanted to just start swearing at him and not EVER stop. I was almost pulling out my hair and I was cyring - losing it totally. Thing is the guy knew what he was doing. He was being deliberately dumb. He was actively NOT listening. He was eating instead of doing what he needed to get his computer fixed. He was doing everything he could to be a pain in the ass. He wouldn't tell me what he was talking about, he'd mumble, wouldn't speak into the phone, didn't listen to anything I said. He seemed to think I was psychic no matter how often I told him to explain what he was seeing to me - he'd just say two woords like green screen, over and over like he was stoned or some thing. Given a gin I woulda gone postal I swear. I was thinking about it when I got home. After Kid M told me it sucked I came home (just what I needed by the way).

That guy epitomises the experiences I've had with guys in my life. REALLY. They want something, they're dicks about getting it, don't care to listen or even participate, will do or say whatever is necessary to keep you hanging on but nothing more and mostly they make you want to kill them in the end. I think I hit paydirt with my issues last night. It is sad that I can boil down my romantic life to the most frustrating phone conversation I've ever had (almost 2 hours). But that's the bottom line. I'm frustrated. I'm tired and I'm cracking.

I'm honest and straight forward, if a little reserved at first. I don't say what I don't mean and have desperately trying NOT to say too much. It's always done me bad to be the oversharer I am. I still end up floundering in the mental morass that comes along with wondering what the hell is HE thinking? I know I told Sass I was going to leave all this on the back burner but I got into the drama and it flipped me out. As usual. I didn't mean to lie, but as with all my plans - it went to hell fast.

So here I am the day after Val's Day, wondering if I'm even going to bother anymore. As much as I'd welcome the distraction of someone else in my world, I'm tired of the stack of players I have now. There's the guy who thinks I'm only good for cyber, the guy who thinks I'm only good for a hook up, the guy who won't talk to me unless I talk to him first (he's so not into me but reactionarily polite) and the only guy who is interested sat down the other day with a laundry list of judgements about me and how I live - that pissed me off. You don't know me and you think a good way of finding out about me is to list off a bunch of BS about how you think I am - it's all wrong and not even remotely like a backhanded compliment. For a writer he's so NOT smooth.

And yet at the end of the day, when it's all said and done and I'm wondering why I insist on letting a whole bunch of strangers make me feel bad (I can do that myself). I'm still a hopeless hopeful romantic. I'm still waiting for my guy. The one that's gonna love me just because I live and breathe. It's just really kicking my ass that right now I can't even get a guy to talk to me - unless he thinks I'm desperate and then he's all like hey baby wanna fuck? Which is occassionally the idea but those guys are never around then so it's all really tiresome.

I told my BFFC taht I'm going to become a nun. Just call me Sister Mary Sunshine k? And In the mean time I swear to be so nice to myself that I'll lose this dark cloud. To hades with all the players thinking I'm the game to frazzle. I don't need them. All I need is my own company. No more drama, sing it with me Mary J :) I hereby solemnly swear to have no more drama in my life. No more letting people think I'm all cheap and see through. No more defeatist attitude. No more worrying if I'm fucking up before I even get a chance. It's been going on for a bit where I'm so predetermined that I can't really just let the moment be or take things for waht they are. I'm so always trying to find the plot twist, the hidden meaning and the subtext. I think I've spent too much time trying to find the outcome I'm missing the actualy story. And then, sometimes, I get all internally disconnected, and I need to be there but it's all so surreal that it ends up seeming like a dream and I can't reacall anything other than I was there.

Right now my body's telling me it needs a sick day. It's been telling me that for a while but I've been ignoring it. It took a stand last night with the melt down. It always wins with the public tears = burning humiliations. I know I get 3 days off soon but I don't care. I'm calling in sick. I'm needing to hang out in my pj's and watch tv and sleep for a bit NOW. Not later. I know totally that the feeling isn't just mental - cuz I know I sound insane - my body knows the best way for me to realize I need downtime and to really just lock up and stay in; isn't through a bad tummy or a fever or anything else - it knows I'll keep on trucking until I feel menatlly unstable. I'm such a workaholic I can't help myself. I just can't take a break from pushing myself around. I'm a pusher. Robert Modell and Cerulean blue have nothing one me.

So I'm off to call in sick and be off for the day and rest rest rest. I promise to do nothing more strenuous then eat and play Need For Speed Underground. Wish me better luck and yoga k?

Keep blogging.
ghost writer Ambrrrr at 10:26 AM

MenTal fUrbAll