Revenge!

After much thought and careful consideration, I finally was able to get my revenge on Logan TWICE!  I know he has a “thing” for a co-worker named Bethany.  I have seen him mooning over her photo on his phone, but she has not met me yet (probably on purpose).  On Tuesday, I “happened” to wander over (via bus and tube) the 27 blocks to Logan’s Office.  I saw him sitting in the park with Bethany, so I thought I might as well break the ice and introduce myself since, apparently, Logan doesn’t think it’s a good idea.  I walked up behind Logan hugged him and kissed his cheek and looked at Bethany and said, “You must be Cindy!  Logan just won’t stop talking about you. I’m his sister Timere. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

Logan’s face turned so hot from his blushing and then he got flustered because Cindy is actually his boss who he complains about incessantly.  Needless to say, Bethany was stunned and speechless.  I heard Logan making choking sounds trying to think of what to say, so I kissed him on the cheek again and whispered in his ear, “Gotcha!”.  Then I let the cat out of the bag and properly introduced myself to Bethany (very ladylike and daintily, of course).

THAT was SO worth the fare!  Logan came home sputtering mad but calmed down when I came out of the kitchen with his favorite meal prepared, and reminded him that I love him.  After dinner, Logan told me that he would clean up since I had fixed dinner.  Well, THAT should have been my clue that he was up to something, but I was still riding the high of the victory and knowing that I had another plan to set in motion.  Logan was clanging the pots and pans around making a lot of noise (even though I had only made his favorite pizza).  But I was relaxed on the sofa watching my programme, when he comes out of the kitchen jumps over the back of the sofa, drops in beside me, kissed me on the cheek as he slapped duct tape on my arm.

Now…..I am accustomed to being waxed from chin to toes (and still do it), but duct tape on skin…The only way to get it off was to get a corner and just yank the foot long piece off my arm.  There were many, Many, MANY expletives expressed because I miscalculated and it took FOUR yanks to finally get it off.  SO not fair.

But because I love him, I opted not to dismember him just yet.  But while he slept, I took his suit jacket and a pair of bright pink see through thong panties, and sewed them into the tail of his jacket so they could only be seen from the back.  So when he goes to the office tomorrow, he’s going to have to explain why he has a pair of sexy women’s panties dangling from his jacket.  I might just have to follow him to work just to see the reactions of he gets. 🙂  <insert evil maniacal laugh here>

Prank Update & Continued

This weekend past was challenging for both Logan and I.  It all began Friday morning when I had poured some blonde hair colouring in Logans shampoo, as he is VERY particular about his hair.  The shrieking from his lav when he saw his blonde top was hysterical!  Thank goodness I had locked my door because he came racing down the hall and ran face first into my solid oak door, which created more for his coworkers to view upon his arrival.  I’ll admit it, I checked on him and helped him with his bloody nose after I had laughed so hard that my ribs and stomach hurt.

That’s not to say I got away with it.  On Saturday, I got up late and was going to go to the pub with some of my coworkers so we could share our stories about the red-headed googly eyed guy from across the alleyway.  I jumped in the shower, grabbed my bodywash and started cleansing, only to discover the water was just beading up and rolling off me.  Logan had put petroleum jelly in my body wash, the little bastard!  Five scrubs later with regular soap and I still feel icky!

Then the little shyte went to the coffee truck I always patronize, because it’s right outside my workplace, and told the 18 year old counter person that I was in love with him AND that he made me horny.  When I showed up this morning, sure enough coffee guy is making puppy eyes at me and staring at, well, it wasn’t my eyes.  He asked me, in a shaky teenager voice, if I would go out with him.  I was confused as to where this was coming from, I had only been polite and courteous but nothing more.  That is, until I caught a glimpse of Logan hiding behind a shrubbery.  Then I knew!  So I smiled coyly, ran my finger along the neckline of my shirt, pulling down to where he could ALMOST see my boobless chest, and said “Come out of that van and I want you to take me right here in the park. I’ll ride you like a cowboy at a rodeo.” And then I winked.  Poor boy, his eyes went wide and by the time I got to “rodeo” he blushed and excused himself.  I ran over and smacked Logan on the back of his blonde head for ruining the coffee boy.

So now, it’s my turn.  What to do, what to do?

And The Pranks We Play

Logan and I are brother and sister.  We live together.  He is my rescuer and my hero.  He is also the target of my mischief most of the time.  And I am the target of his mischief.

It all began when he first moved me in with him.  I have my own room and my own lav.  However, when I’m in the shower, Logan would wait until I started singing (which drives him nuts) and he would flush his toilet. Suddenly, mid-song, all the cold water would disappear and I would get a bit of a scalding.  He claimed my scream was much more pleasant than my singing.  Little bastard.

So, whilst HE slept, I stealthily crept in with my ninja-like skills, and sewed all of his boxers together in one long chain.  Oh my word, such profanity I heard the following morning would have melted granite!  Ah…..sweet revenge.

Logan know that I like my tea.  Do not fuck with my tea!  Every morning whilst my tea is steeping, I get dressed then pour the tea into my thermos and off to work I go.  Well, Dr. Sneakydrawers waited until I had just put my tea on to steep and put a jalapeno in to steep with the tea and when he heard me coming up the hall, snatched it out and ate it.  Imagine my surprise when I went to the rooftop for lunch, wave at my redheaded, bespectacled, across-the-alley gawker, and pour my tea.  I thought it tasted a bit off, but halfway through my cup I was racing around the roof trying to find the water spigot.  I finally found one with no hose so I was practically standing on my head sucking down as much water as I could and giving my gawker the best view of my panda pantied ass he’s ever had.

Again, I relied on my wicked ninja skills, and while he slept, I painted his fingernails Bubblegum Pink and reset his alarm so he would have 15 minutes less time to get ready to catch the train.  Logan is not exactly a morning person, meaning he’s not fully paying attention until he gets his coffee. Thus, when his alarm went off 15 minutes late, he had to dash.  He didn’t notice his nails until he was on the train and someone told him how pretty they were.  I did not realize that he had a presentation to make at work that morning, so he had to scramble to get to the pharm to get some fingernail polish remover.  But not before his co-workers got a good giggle out of it.

Last night, he replaced my body lotion with mayonnaise.  So when I got my shower and applied my “lotion” it was fucking disgusting!  It took another two hot showers to get that nastiness off!  And I’m still smelling it while I’m at work today!

What to do? What to do?

Freedom!

I hear people talking quite a bit about how they are downtrodden and they will never be able to enjoy the privilege of some other group, and in my mind I am screaming “IF YOU HAD LIVED MY LIFE FOR 22 YEARS YOU WOULD LOVE WHERE YOU ARE NOW!” But I keep quiet because no one would listen.

When did we become such spoiled little entitled whiny bitches?  If you want your station in life to improve then improve it!  We are so quick to spout off excuse after excuse after excuse as to why we can’t.  And I will openly admit, I spent years making excuses why I couldn’t leave the Grunge, so I just endured his torture and torment.  When I was FINALLY convinced that I had the power to improve my station in life, I got out and am working toward making my life better.  No, I may never have an expensive car, expensive clothes, expensive place to live, but I will have what I need.

Freedom, to me, means living without making excuses.  If I fuck up, admit it, take the consequences, and move on.  If I want something, I save my money to get it or learn to make it myself (btw, you do NOT want me to invite you to dinner.  My cooking SUCKS!).

I am of Asian/Hispanic/Questionable heritage.  I don’t look at skin color or accent or hair color, or body type.  I don’t really care what the outside looks like.  Are you a good and gentle person?  Are you kind?  Are you caring?  Do we have common interests?  Do we enjoy each others’ company? And trust me, I can pick up on the stench of bullshit!

We spend so much time complaining and whining and moaning and groaning, instead of caring and making a difference that we have lost focus of the freedom of life!

I actually bought a bra on Saturday, much to my surprise, they had one for the flat of chest.  I wore it Sunday and half of Monday.  It felt like I was wearing a bullet proof vest, so during lunch break, I went to the roof as I normally do, and sure enough the googly eyed red haired guy was across the alley working on his computer.  We have developed a rather “long distance” relationship, when I come up for lunch, he looks at me through his window, smiles and waves.  When I stood on the ledge and took off my bra and let it fall into the alley, I think his imagination must have had a meltdown.  His face hit the window hard enough for his glasses to break.  But I felt free!

Free from confinement.  Free to just be!

 

Daydreaming

I love listening to music.  Especially classical music.  My favorite composer is Antonio Vivaldi.  Now I know classical music is boring as hell to most people, but I get the strangest looks when I am walking to work with my earbuds playing Vivaldi in my ears and the people driving or walking by me can only see me trying to conduct the symphony.  Rather like a stork spasming.  But that’s okay. I’m learning to be who I am instead of who I was brought up to be.

Logan teases me too, when he hears me singing along with the radio in my shower.  The acoustics in the shower are fantastic…..as long as one has talent for singing.  But I like singing so Logan can kiss a toad!  He told me that he was going to record me singing and use it as his new Wake Up Alarm because nothing makes him want to leave the house like me singing.

Anyway, work has been wonderful.  Being kept VERY busy working with the new computer system.  My stitches were taken out (by the doctor) and no real permanent damage other than yet another scar.  So I have been released to watch Sister Thomasina’s Self-Defense Class, but not participate for another two weeks.

We also adopted a rescue dog.  He’s SO adorable and loves to snuggle with me.  He’s part pitbull and part a lot of other breeds.  Apparently, his mother had pretty much the same life I had, so we are just mutts together.

Started a cooking class at the Adult Annex and haven’t burned anything as yet, which is a plus.  I did however undercook the rice on the first try so my Vegetable Rice with Chicken was…..like chewing gravel.  But progress…..yesterday, I fixed a cake that actually looked like a cake and was edible!

 

Why Came You Here?

I found this poem really made me think and feel like the writer was looking directly into my soul.

Desperately weary
From life’s trudgery
And drudgery,
I wandered to escape
The numbness of my heart
And the heartlessness
That had become my cup.

Wandered I aimlessly
Until upon a ruin
I happened upon.
Entering, I felt uneasy peace.

My eyes closed in weariness
And in my dream
Heard I a voice:
“Why came you here?”
My reply:
“To find rest.”
The Voice, deep and commanding, spake:
“Get thee hence, for peace resides not here!”

My heart sank.

Again came the voice, softer this time:
“Why came you here?”
My reply:
“To find comfort.”
The voice didst boom in command:
“Get thee hence, for comfort resides not here!”

My spirit was weary.

A third time came the voice,
This time a whisper:
“Why came you here?”
My reply was tinged with tears and struggle:
“To find forgiveness.”
The voice, gently replied:
“My child, Et ego te absolvo a peccatis tuis in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.
Go now absolved, and be free.”

My soul didst find wings and fly.

Next dawn, my lifeless shell was found within the old structure.
My heart was stopped.
My spirit died.
My soul had flown to freedom.
And my face bore a smile of peace
For the first time.

Peaceful Place

In my session with my counselor on Friday, she asked me if I had a place where I felt peaceful and completely at ease.  I admitted that I used to find cemetery’s rather peaceful because there was no one there to bother you or try to chat you up.  But the more I thought, there is one place where I like to go walking because it’s a place where I feel free.  So she asked me if I would be willing to take her there.  I wasn’t sure about that because it’s the place where I feel most as ease mainly because no one else is there when I am there.  But I told her I would consider it.

I called her later and told her that I would share it with her but only with the understanding that this is a ONE TIME deal.  I’m not willing to give up my peaceful spot!  She agreed and Saturday Morning, I met her at her office and we walked to my peaceful place.

I love walking here and thinking.  There’s something about being among these trees that have lived through so much and remain so majestic that gives me hope and reminds me that I may be down sometimes but I’m not out!  I usually take my daypack with books, notebooks, and, if you’ll pardon the indiscretion, a roll of TP just in case.

 

I Think I Thunk

I’ve been doing a LOT of thinking and remembering and contemplating and pondering and I think I thunk.  I was talking with my counselor about all I had written (93 entries) about my life with the Grunge.  And toward the end of our session, she stopped and said, “You have so much anger and rage caged up inside you.  What are you going to do with it?”  I told her I wanted my experiences to help others, and she smiled and said, “That wasn’t the question. What are you going to do with all that is eating you up inside?  Are you going to let it destroy you or are you going to let it go so you can LIVE for once.”

Odd question I’ll admit.  But the meds only numb the pain.  The writing brings the pain.  I haven’t grasped the concept of letting go of the pain and anger and rage.  How can I help others if I have this caged pissed off dragon inside?  So I began to think.

I took each memory I had written.  Re-read them one at a time.  Then I put then in the fire in the fireplace.  And as I did that, I told myself that memory is history, it cannot hurt me anymore unless I let it.  It’s time to unlock the cage and release the dragon!

And So Begins A New Year

Seems like a lifetime ago since I’ve had the opportunity to post anything here.  I got released into counseled care after one of my cuts went too deep.  27 stitches later and a psych eval later, here I am at the beginning of a new year.

I talked at length with my counselor about all I had written about my life under the control and domination of the Grunge and all he did.  She wanted to give me meds to help me not think about the events, but I can’t and don’t want to forget!  I NEED to remember them so perhaps some day I can help someone else.

I remember New Year’s Day when I was 12 and was just beginning to grow into womanhood, the Grunge noticed hair growth where it normally should be on a girl, but he said he was having none of that, so he called his step-sister to come over and “get rid of ALL hair below the neck.”  She was terrified of him and obeyed without question never looking at him.  All I can tell you is that, even though she tried to be gentle, hair removal fucking hurts!  I tried to talk to her, but all she would say was “I’m sorry, he did this to me when we were children too.”  OMG!!!  How many lives has this evil man destroyed?

After Logan helped me escape from him, I tried to contact her but she wouldn’t have anything to do with me.  I worry about her damaged life and want so much to help her.

On a different note, I am back at work and have found lots of books I want to read.  And Sister Thomasina told me I can come back to her butt kicking class when the doctor signs my release and my stitches come out.  Thought about taking them out myself, but that won’t get my release signed.

I’ve met with Sister Thomasina for tea and the occasional beer at her favorite pub.  I decided that I would try some of the pub food, and have found that haggis is truly repulsive as is tripe.  But I have found that they have a salad that has walnuts, cranberries, goat cheese, spinach and lettuce that is absolutely delicious.  They also have a steak sand that is mouthwateringly wonderful!!!  I felt like such a hog!

Logan is getting his “home office” set up and even has these partitions he uses as office walls.  He is so fussy and it’s hilarious to watch him getting everything in its proper place.  I, as a joke, put his lamp on the opposite corner of his desk than where he put it, and he was so flustered.  I always knew he was very picky, but this is OCD at its most intense, I believe.  Even his pens must be exactly the same.

Christmas was quiet.  We celebrated in my hospital room and I gave Logan a Pink Flamingo coffee mug, and he gave me the most wonderful scarf!  It is cashmere and so soft and so warm.  Perfect!  One of the nurses has taken it upon herself to teach me how to crochet.  WOW!  THAT is a LOT harder than it looks, but it’s also a lot of fun learning something new.

Time for my next appointment, so until next time…Thank you for reading.

Floods of Memories!

I must apologize for being absent for the last several days.  I followed Sister Thomasina’s advice, and began writing about my life with the Grunge.  So many memories and so many things I had blocked for so long came flooding back to my mind!  It was more than I could handle all at once, and when Logan told me that I had gone back into my “FUCK OFF AND LEAVE ME ALONE” mode, I realized that maybe I had opened Pandora’s box.  Now I have to try to figure out what to do with all the demons that have been turned loose in my mind.

I am ashamed to say that I resorted to my former coping methods and ended up with more scars.  I know, I know, self destructive behavior is not going to solve the issues.  But in the end, I will have escaped the torments remembered, right?

I brought my laptop to Sister Thomasina’s apartment and sat at her table to write out all that was within me while she crocheted a sweater for a gorilla or something like that (it was HUGE).  Without realizing it, I wrote out everything I could remember and yet my fingers couldn’t keep up, but I couldn’t stop the flow.  Wrote for four hours straight without even stopping to pee or eat.  I did sip water through a straw so I didn’t have to stop.

The words and visions kept coming until I was literally drenched in sweat and shaking so bad my spelling just sucked.  When I finally was too exhausted to go on writing, I locked myself in the bathroom and just cried.  Yes, I did pee first.  I didn’t want to go home because I knew the memories would keep attacking me, but I knew I had to go home (baby steps).

I haven’t slept in 3 days now, even with meds, and haven’t been able to stop shaking.   My boss sent me an email reminding me that the office would be closed this week and next week but I will still get paid.  That was a positive.

Logan has been so understanding and has done his best to help me, even going out of his way to decorate our flat for Christmas.  He understands because he endured the same things I did and even worse, yet he is more focused on my well-being instead of his own.  I don’t know how he doesn’t fall apart like I do or how he keeps his sanity or even why he would want me to be in his life, much less sharing his flat.

I feel so lost right now, and I know that is part of the processing, but I just want to be normal, if there is such a thing.