Thanksgiving Update

Lemme tell you about my weekend.

I had a magnifcent work-free weekend. It was lovely.

I wrote about how nice it was to eat thanksgiving dinner and root against the cowboys was at my boyfriend's house. That rocked.

The day after thanksgiving, frank and I had intentions of doing some 5am black friday shopping. I was in it mostly for the expereince, because I've recently found out what it is like to be dirt. Well, finanically anyway. But we went shopping, and it was really fun. It was totally insane, because we ended up going to two malls twice, and even the same resturant twice.

We had a fun dinner with some of the guys from gamestop, including frank's non-biological brother Mike. They're so much alike that it's pretty scary. I have to find a girl just like me so that I can pawn her off on mike, and he can lose his virginity to a good girl. It breaks my heart that mike is a virgin, and I can say in complete honesty that if I wasn't dating frank, I'd fuck mike out of the kindness in my heart. It wouldn't be a sympthy fuck, it'd be more along the lines of a plutonic fuck. "As a friend, I respect you, and it hurts me to my soul that you're a 19 year old virgin. You're a sweet kid, smart, and funny, and you're not pullin in the poonanner? I'll give you some, but next year, I'd better hear plenty a story about how you have to turn down the pussy. Now take your pants off."

That's what I'd say.

OH! Before I forget... My darling boyfriend had been having a difficult time figuring out what he wants to give his little brother for christmas. So the other day while we were out, he turns to me and goes, "I don't know what to get Mike for Christmas." and I go, "Okay." And he says, -while turning his head away from me so I didn't hear him very clearly, "You should fuck him for christmas."

"What?"

That inspired a whole day of random spurts of silence outta me, man. I knew he was joking when he first said it, but it's always worth it to make frank think I'm really pissed with him, because he's so adorable when he's trying to make me not be upset. Plus, I get lots of free hugs when I act all pouty and sad. I'm a real sucker for physical attention (when it comes from someone I want it from), so I'll act up a little bit if there's a few hugs in the deal. There was excelent sex that evening as well. Sex so good that it was on my mind for a good 3 nights, and I was all pissed because I was (am) on the rag, and couldn't masturbate or anything.

Frank has the magic stick.

Yes.

After friday's shopping intensity, saturday came along. I drug frank into philly, and we walked around center city trying to find a gift for Mike that frank wouldn't get his ass kicked for. We also went to Lord & Taylor to go watch the holiday light show. I love that shit. I've watched it every year I've been alive, and I think it's just awesome. In the center of this pricey department store, there's a hall, with an ugly eagle statue. But up above everyone's heads, there's a big huge curtian, with lights, and designs of christmas characters on it. Below this big huge wall, there's an organ.

People come from miles around to sit on the floor in the middle of this department store- people of all races, economic backgrounds, and personalities... they sit on the floor. They sit on the floor look up at the wall and watch the nutcracker, frosty the snowman, and Rudi the christmas bear dance to traditional holiday songs. It's awesome. I think Frank had an okay time watching it. He's all about christmas, so I'm guessing he was into it.

Sunday, I stayed my ass in the house all day and did a bunch of sleeping and nothing. It was awesome. Then monday I came back to work. That sucked.

So that was my weekend. More updates later.

hearts and butterflies,

pam

Written, Monday, Dec. 01, 2003 at around: 3:46 PM

Some thoughts

I know, I owe you all an entry about how my weekend was. This isn't it. I'm going to write that tomorrow. Right now I feel like writing about things that are on my mind. Namely how I've been writing, marriage, and babies. I'll probabally write an entry about singing at some point as well.

I don't write like I used to. I'm so caught up in this weblog style society that I've forgotten how to ramble about nothing.

I've also forgotten how to write online like no one is reading. I can write in a paper journal, or on my own personal Word Documents like no one is reading, but here, I always write to the audiance.

I know who you people are, and I know what you want to (and what you don't want to) hear. I like to write about my period because it puts a good ruffle in your feathers. I like to write about my boyfriend because he's just awesome. I like to write about getting drunk because it's fun. I write about the lord of the rings because it's so awesome.

I miss writing about my problems-- thing is, I don't really want to share them with everyone. Here, take this for example. I wrote this entry earlier on today:

I got a diary review (that I had requested in the summertime and had totally forgotten about) this morning. It said I swear too much and I write for the audiance rather than for myself.

Those are both very fucking true, guys.

So, today I'll write an entry about stuff that's been on my mind.

*disclaimer, I don't want any of the following stuff (babies or marriage) at the moment- nor is this a subtle cry for attention (my cries for attention are never subtle), It's just been on my mind because everyone around me is talking about their kids, and plans to be married. So don't none of yall get no ideas, ya hear?*

Marriage.

Ugh, the concept of being married fills me with the feeling of being confined, and comfortable all at once. It seems to be on the lips of a lot of people lately. Well, perhaps not their lips, but it's been a subject that has been brought up a lot more than usual. My mom brought up marriage the other day, and I was so taken aback that I couldn�t give her one of my patented, �Mom, stop talking,� responces. I�m not particularly fond of the idea of being married- well, that�s not true, I go back and forth. Getting married seems fun, but afterwards, it�s all very spooky and scary. Really though, my mother's uprorous success with marriage (sarcasam, friends), two years of working as a wedding caterer and the fact that I've watched some of my best friends go through very painful divorces really are not ringing endorsments for the institution of marriage in my eyes.

Yeah, there's that dress-wearing, dolly-playing-with, little girl who wants to get married to her one true love as her best friends support her by being her as bridesmaids and have a beautiful ceremony followed by a magical reception all sealed with steamy, erotic, sexual, never-see-the-light-of-day honeymoon in me somewhere, but for once the pessimsist in me is a little more badass on this subject. I want a pretty dress, a party and a vacation, but I could do that for my birthday, man . Being attached to someone for the rest of your life is a serious prommise. It�s not a prommise I doubt I could follow through with- I know I could. I'm one of the most monogmally minded woman I know (Save the me + boyfriend + extra chick sex). Although I'm somewhat afraid of commitment, I handle it quite well.

It's the fear involved. I don't know what the person I'd marry would be thinking, post-vows. That's why I'm afraid. My mom was married, and so, okay, where's my dad? Who knows? I don't even know if he really is who she says he is. I don't want to be responsible for the wonderment of a child who has no clue about one half of themself. Plus, divorce is so commonplace now. That's just the worst way to get dumped, man. What do you say to someone who walks up to you and says, �I want a divorce,� ... �No?� I don�t think that works.There are more divorced couples than married couples in america. The average lifespan of an american wedding is now only 3 years. 3 years! That's not for life, man, that's just a conveinance.

It's sad. Love doesn't seem to mean much to our society, and seriously- are people even really marrying for love anymore? Who knows. I know 4 couples who tried to get married and subsequently failed. One got married, and the girl got her ass kicked almost every day. Another got married, and their marriage ended in less than 6 months. This other couple got engaged, and that didn't even last 2 months before someone was fucking around. Another marraige resulted in twins, and the dad split after they were born, never to pay child support. He ended up moving in with a chick who paid all his bills. Lame.

Yeah, so seeing this, and the pain involved with the divorces (because no matter how bad the first 90 days are, no on ever has sense enough to get an annulment) I'm supposed to be all like, "Yeah marriage is for me." Fuck you, society. Ideally, I would love to grow old with someone, and share a combined life with them. Realistically, I don't think that a wedding will provide that. A wedding will provide several things: Bills, a party, aggrevation, and stress. Most importantaly, though a wedding ceremony provides you with a peice of paper that says that you're related to that person. Good for taxes, property and 401k. That means absolutely dick in regards to love, compassion, and monogomy, though.

"The bitterness is strong in this one," said Patty to Selma about their neice, Lisa.

Yeah, I fear marriage, but I don't want to discourage anyone from getting married just because of my insecurities and disbelief in the pre-existing structures of what this anglo-saxon society has provided us with.

Babies.

I love children. If possible, I'd like to have a kid one day. One day loooong from now in a land far far away, I'd like to have a kid. Not anytime soon, in the words of eminem, I still got a whole lotta growin up to do/I still got a whole lotta throwin� up to spew. I�m responsible for giving the thumbs up to fetal murder-- yeah, the �A� word. Abortion. I�ve had more than one, which really kind of puts me in the front of the going to hell line, according to those church people... but because of how old I was, the stablity of the �father� of the jars of baby, and my living situation at the time, it really was better for the babies that they just weren�t born and hit the vaccum.

I�d rather be responsible for killing a bit of flesh with no brain than ruining the entire life of a potential grown-up.

Sure that sounds evil. Sure, I�m pretty fucking heartless for saying such a thing. I know. They�re innocent babies. Satan jumped up in my body and convinced me that it was a good idea to kill my own unborn children. There isn�t a depth of hell deep and horrible enough for the sin I�ve commited. And the audacity to do it more than once? I should be killed for what I�ve done, right? Because that�ll make everything even.

Okay, I�ve heard it all. But guess what? Those fetuses that got flushed down the peverbial toilet are doing a hell of a lot better than the kids being raised by other 17 year old mommies who still live at home, have no jobs, are physically and mentally abused by the fathers of the babies-- girls who will not gain an education, and feed their 8 month olds doritos. These innocent babies that were generously not killed by their good, teenage, christian mothers and brought into this world are doing so much better than my aborted zygotes. Yeah, it�s so much better to be raised by a teenager with a temper who will beat a 3 week old, or leave their 4 year old with friends who stick her daugter between the wall and the matteress because she wouldn�t eat her vegitables. It�s so much better to be raised by a teenage girl who will pawn her kids off on her retired mother so that she can go get drunk. Girls who may never have a decent relationship with their kids. Girls who may very well not put their kid up for �adoption� but still don�t even know their 2 year old�s favorite toy and coloring book. These amazing young parents on welfare, drugs, and let their uncles abuse their young babies-- they�re such awesome parents.

So yeah, I�m the one going to hell.

I really have no interest in being responsible for a little person right now. I�m not a teenager anymore, and I have a stronger sense of responsiblity (which is seriously not saying much), but come on. I'm 22 years old! I know that a baby would totally consume my life, because that's the type of person I am. I'd also be preoccupied with not fucking the kid up, so I'd be all uber-mom about it. My first priority would always be the needs of the child, and right now I'm really fucking enjoying being a selfish gimme gimme bitch with my life. I have no need or use for a child right now. But for whatever bizzare reason, a lot of girls think they have this use and need.

Sharee (do you remember her from way back in febuary�s entries? no? okay) is pregnant. She's having her baby-- Sharee doesn't believe in abortion. Sharee is seven days younger than I am, and is a whole hell of a lot crazier than I am (which IS saying a lot). She's all about having this kid. I don�t think she�s going to spend much time being a mom, and that the cycle of poor parenting is going to continue with her relationship with her child. I�m looking at the situation from the outside and for one reason or another, (perhaps abortional guilt?) I have a really strong desire to be involved in the life of this child. At first I just thought I wanted to buy her baby cute clothes and toys, but after giving myself a quick gothica style self-analysis, I realized that I want to be a part of her child's life.

Woa.

I have this need to be a part of her baby�s life. Maybe this insane attitude will dissapate before new years (I hope!), but it�s pretty intense. I want to be a glimmer of hope in what I see as a pretty bleak life for this kid. The baby ought to be healthy- Sharee says she�s going to the doctor regularly and everything, but... I�m afraid. I hate to hear of neglect, child abuse, and poor child rearing (isn�t that ironic coming out of the woman who�s had abortions?) and I�m terrified of what lies in front of the baby that�s gonna poot out of sharee�s woumb. And sharee has a really bad temper and some seriously skewed world views. She's totally going to cloud the mind of her baby, and that's not really fair. If the baby doesn�t calm her down, I�m afraid she�s going to unnesicairly beat the shit out of her baby, or at least fill the kid's head with insanities.

I don't want to raise her child, I jus want to be an objective source for sanity.

I guess a lot of it is guilt, and even a bit of envy. I want to ensure that her kid is raised correctly because I didn�t bother to raise my �kids�-- I took the easy way off. Well, pam, too little too fucking late, right? Yeah, I know, but although I know the deal, that's not going to stop me from caring about this child that's being brought into the world. I�m not in this for sharee at all. I could honestly give less of a fuck about how giving birth effects her, how she feels physically or even how this effects her mentally. I�m just worried about her baby. If it meant that I�d never have to see sharee, and just care for her baby a couple times a week, I�d clean my apartment from floor to ceiling, take the godmother application, fill it out, and call every morning to find the status of my application.

It�s just the person I�m dealing with. Ew. Sharee isn�t stable, and I�m not sure how that�s going to effect this baby.

I seriously should make up my mind where I stand with this whole thing soon, because It�s an all or nothing deal.

It's weird to write like no one is reading anymore, I tells ya.

hearts and butterflies,

pam

Written, Monday, Dec. 01, 2003 at around: 12:58 PM

post-thanksgiving

I am really not enjoying the meal I'm eating right now. but it was free, and only cost the person who bought it for me one dollar.

Thanksgiving was better.

I ate at Frank's house for Thanksgiving this year, and it was a lot of fun, very breezy-- simple, and relaxed. I was unnesicarily nervous about meating Frank's dad. I was afraid I'd do something like I normally do every day and stick my foot so far down my throught that I was shitting toes, but no. Everything was fun and cool.

The meal was pretty average, but the time spent was splendid.

Frank's little sister, who I think is just as cute as a button (Yeah, she's almost 18, but she's just too cute to be an almost adult. She is 14 in my mind. Plus, she's only like 5'4" or something, so yeah.) is totally awesome. She and I had fun conversations about Frank, and we giggled about how picky he is, and she showed me a goldmine of embarrasing photos of Frank from when he was a kid. He was SO cute. And the pictures of him and his sister were priceless, he's the typical big brother, protecting his little sister and her pigtails.

Pigtails! Aww!

So yeah, thanksgiving was very awesome. The day after was awesome too, but I don't feel like (or have any time) writing anymore. I'll update again I'm sure.

hearts and butterflies,

pam