Vehicular Exhibitionism

I feel:: scared

Never let me say again that driving in south Arkansas is boring. On the day I took my rental truck back to Fordyce and get my finally fixed car, I encountered a sight I have never seen before. I was about 10 miles outside of Fordyce and driving contentedly with the air on high and Living Sacrifice in the CD player when I noticed a motorcycle coming towards me in the oncoming lane. I saw that it was a man and that he was wearing a red motorcycle helmet. I know he was a man because he was riding his motorcycle with no shirt on. I thought,"What a dumbass. I can't believe he's riding a motorcycle shirtless." As he got closer to me, I saw his bare calf and thought,"He's wearing shorts too? Oh God, deliver me from stupidity." He got closer and closer and I saw more and more of his tanned leg. I thought,"What, he's wearing a speedo or something?" Then, he passed me in the other lane and I was privy to the sight of his unbelievably white butt cheek. He was riding his motorcycle naked with only a helmet on. After he passed me, I just kept driving in sort of a state of numbness. I mean, how often does one encounter nude motorcycle riders? It took a few minutes for the funnyweirdness of the situation to hit me. I couldn't stop laughing and as soon as I pulled into the car dealership to pick up my car, I walked into the showroom to get my paperwork laughing,"I just saw a naked man on a motorcycle!" As I got into my newlyfixedbrandnewlooking car I thought,"Why do I always see the naked people?"

On Monday, my friend E called me. I had been trying to get hold of her for about a week with no luck. I think she had been holed up with her druggywaytooldforher boyfriend. We chit chatted for a few minutes and then she said,"You were right about T. You are right about all my relationships." I said,"What do you mean?" She sighed and said,"T tried to kill me the other night." She went on to tell me the whole hideous story while my heart sank deeper into my chest and my breathing would occasionally stop. I told her to go to the police, but she said she was afraid to because he has told her before that if she ever did that he would kill her and her family. So, I told her to get away from him, but she said he has threatened to kill her son and her parents if she ever left him. I don't know what to do now. She wants me to help her, but she's too scared to help herself. I don't think there is anything I can do unless she's willing to either turn him in or get away from him. I can't make her do anything she doesn't want to do. I'm so afraid for her because T has a history of violence. He went to prison before for the attempted murder of his ex-wife. So, I'm praying for her all the time. I fall asleep praying for her and I wake up praying for her. I'm going to have to trust that God will do his will in this situation. I want to rush in and rescue her, but I know that that is controlling behavior and I refuse to do that. It's so hard to just sit by and watch her suffer. She called me yesterday afternoon while I was studying in the school library with Tanya. She just wanted to talk for a bit. I told her that I was studying and asked her if I could call her later or if she would call me later. She said she would if she had time, but that she was going to be with T for most of the night. She also told me that T has told her that he doesn't want her talking to me or coming over to my house anymore. Great. I'm scared and frustrated. I keep thinking what E must be feeling right now.


The Devil Is Beating His Wife

I feel:: sleepy

Sunday night I had another one of my crazy dreams. I don't remember much of the details of it, but what I do remember is this: The Devil was going around killing all of these people I knew and loved. The whole time he was doing that, he had ordered me to sit naked in the bath tub and wash my hair. After he would kill someone, he would bring the person into the bathroom to show me how he had mangled them or tortured them. I couldn't look, but he would forcibly turn my head to make me see what he had done while he was telling me how he did it.

The next day, Monday, I had to drive an hour and a half to take my car to be fixed. The whole way there and back it was raining off and on, but the sun was shining brightly. My dad used to say that that meant the Devil was beating his wife. I thought that was kind of odd considering the dream I had the night before. My mom also used to say that fog was a cloud that had died and fallen to earth. My parents are crazy. I guess the child doesn't fall far from the proverbial tree.

Today, I have to go out of town again to return my rental truck, which is HUGE by the way. The lady from the insurance company of the girl who hit me set me up with an 05 Dodge Dakota-black. It's great, but it's big. I can drive it pretty well, except I have trouble backing up because of the truck bed and I have trouble parking just because I'm not used to such a large vehicle.

I've been training for the Hardware dept at Sears for the past two weeks. The first week was really easy, but now that I'm into the different kinds of tools, their characteristics, selling points, features and benefits, I'm bogged down. I'm having to take notes on everything because I know next to nothing about tools. I'm stressing over it because my manager keeps walking by me while I'm on the computer to tell me that he wants me to be on the schedule for this coming week. There is no way I'm going to be able to get all of it finished by then, especially since classes start on Monday. This is really a big pain in the ass for a part time job. I did get to have some retail therapy though the other night. Since I have an employee discount now at Sears, I took advantage of it and bought a couple pairs of shoes (like I need more shoes), several shirts and a new purse. Woohoo! I LOVE RETAIL THERAPY!!



I feel:: aggravated

This is a comment I got on another blog I have regarding part of what I wrote in this entry:
I must confess, I had my eye on the steel guitar player. I usually don't like clean cut guys. There's just something about that whole preppy thing, but this guy... I don't know why I was so attracted to him. Maybe it's because he's a musician and I have a weakness for musicians. Or maybe it's because he just looked so yummy and sqeaky clean.

Here's the comment. She didn't even have the guts to leave her name. She posted it anonymously.
listen you.. the steel guitar player is mine, obviously he was with someone (in case you didn't notice, he was staring directly at me the whole time) and yes he is super sexy and he is great in bed. I know, I'm having sex with him regularly!!

And here's my reply:

Taarna said...
Good for you. I never had any serious intentions for him anyway. If you noticed, the majority of this story was not dedicated to him in particular, but to the night in general. I can't help it if I notice a man who is attractive. Like I would really go home with a guy from a bar anyway. If you are the girl I'm thinking of, you sat with me and my friend Tanya at our table. I thought you were really nice, so did Tanya. I knew that he was with you. I saw him smiling at you all night. He was obviously with you after the show was over, so I don't know why you are so upset. I'm not going to justify myself to you. This is my blog and I can choose to write about whatever I want. Your man is in a band and he happens to be attractive. Having other girls look at him is something that I thought you would have expected. Anyway, I'm glad to have met you.

Why she would be so upset about my writing 5 sentences about someone she is seeing is beyond me. I don't even know that guy's name. Until I read her comment today, I had completely forgotten about him. I've heard that jealousy is nothing but insecurity. If that is true, then I feel really sorry for that girl, because she doesn't have a clue where she stands with that guy.

In other news, Ryk called me yesterday while I was training at work. I didn't answer because, well, I was working, but I called him back later. He said he wanted to talk. I was all,"What do you want to talk about?" He said there were some things that were still unresolved and that he was having trouble with and that he wanted to talk to me about it and also he said he was concerned about some things he had heard. I said,"What have you heard?" He said,"Well, for one, I heard that you thought I cheated on you. I immediately thought,"You idiot, you didn't hear that. I wrote that in my live journal and you sneaked on to read it after I had deleted you from my friends list." Instead of saying that, I said,"I really don't think there is anything to talk about. As far as I'm concerned, it's over and done with." He persisted in telling me that we really needed to talk. He's just rehashing everything that went on right after I broke up with him. I told him two or three more times that we didn't have anything to talk about. He finally desisted and we ended the conversation. I thought that would be the end of it, but later when I got home, my phone rang. I looked at the caller id and it was Ryk again. I didn't answer it. He left a voicemail telling me how sorry he was and that he really wanted to tell me that to my face. You know, I just don't give two shits anymore about what he feels or what he wants. As a matter of fact, I try my best not to think about him at all.

Do older people get more childish as they get older? Last night, at about 12 midnight, my dad got up (Remember he drinks half a pint of Jack Daniels every night? He also had been out earlier so who knows how much beer he had consumed.) and started rummaging through the hall closet, which is right between our two bedrooms, looking for a light bulb. Mind you, not just any old light bulb, but a teensy weensy one that he uses for his night light in his bedroom. I saw the hall light on underneath my bedroom door and grumbled sleepily,"What are you doing?" He opened my bedroom door and I saw his hand suspended there holding the teeny burnt out light bulb. He said,"I'm looking for this. Do you remember seeing any around the house?" Annoyed, I said,"Well, dad that's where we keep the light bulbs. If they're not there then we probably don't have any." He clicked the hall light off and I heard him go into his room and start moving things around in there, presumably still looking for the elusive light bulb. A few minutes later, the hall light came on and he was looking for the light bulb again in the hall closet. He repeated this about three more times. He asked me at one point if I would look for it with him. By then it was about 1am. I was sleepy and said, irritated,"Now?" He said,"Well, I need it now and I'm fixin' to go to bed." Sigh. I did not look for the light bulb. I lay there in my bed thinking,"You can walk all the way from your room to the kitchen in complete darkness to finish off your whiskey, but you can't walk from your bed to your bathroom?" (His bathroom is connected to his bedroom.)When I got up this morning, I figured I would be given the silent treatment for not magically procuring the non-existent light bulb out of thin air, but he just acted like nothing ever happened. I wonder if he even remembers it.


Did Peter Fish Naked?

I feel:: sleepy
What song is on a loop in my head right now:: Pearl Jam~Black

Sunday morning, I managed to wake up early enough to get ready for church. Amazing since I didn't set my alarm. I was in a perky mood, well, perky for me anyway. I got dressed and set off for church at about 9:30am. I was tooling down the frontage road of the freeway that separates the town in which I live and listening quite contentedly to Pearl Jam when I noticed a man standing on the side of the road. He was an elderly man. The next thing I noticed was that he was completely naked. I was too shocked to even slow down. I just kept driving. My mind went into temporary shut down mode. After a few seconds I thought,"Was he really naked? I can't believe I just saw a naked man on the side of the road." Not only was he naked, but also he was leaning on the bridge supports as if he were posing for his high school yearbook picture. I found that to be extremely odd. Later on, (and right now) I felt badly for not stopping to see if he was in some sort of distress. I thought, when I came to my senses, that he might be suffering from Alzheimer's. From what I understand, some Alzheimer's patients are prone to walk around buck naked. Then, I thought what with my fear of men in general, that it might not have been a good thing for me to stop and talk to a completely naked man. I should have called someone though. I have a cell phone. I should have dialed 911 or something.

Well, I finally got to church and resolved not to think about the naked man and to concentrate on why I was at church: to worship, to learn and to hang out with my friends and their kids. I managed, thank God, to pay attention and to glean some knowledge during the service. My friend, Richard, gave the sermon. He was, at one time, the youngest Associate Pastor of the Assembly of God Churches in Arkansas. (The church I go to is not Assembly of God, it's Calvary Chapel. Richard's family is Assembly of God and he was brought up in that church and only changed a few years ago.) He said he thought he had everything figured out and that he "knew what ministry was and what ministry wasn't". Then, he said, after repeatedly banging his head against the wall, he realized that he was limiting God by trying to limit the things he could/would do for God. He talked about not putting God in a box by trying to figure out what God wants us to do, instead, just to do what God puts in front of us. The lesson focused on Peter and how he must have been a fisherman all of his life along with his father and his father's father. Richard said that we don't know this for sure, but it's a good bet. He said that he only found three places in scripture where Peter actually caught fish and those times were when he did what Jesus told him to do. He talked about the scripture when Jesus appeared to the disciples, after his ressurrection, as they were fishing. They had been fishing all night and had caught nothing. Jesus called out to them from the shore, but they didn't recognize him. He said,"Friends, have you any food?" When they said no, he told them to put their net out on the other side of the boat, then they would have fish in their net. Richard said that he could imagine how tired they all must have been after fishing all night and not catching anything. He said two things about how he would feel if someone came up to him at the end of a tiring, useless day and told him that he needed to work more: 1. that he would say something like,"Man, I can't help you right now. I've been working all night. I'm tired. My wife is cooking breakfast and I need to get home to see my kids." or 2. that he would be extremely indignant that someone who didn't know how to fish (i.e. a carpenter) was telling him how to do his job. But they did what Jesus told them to do and they caught so many fish that they had to drag the net along the bottom of the water in order to get it to shore. What touches me is when they got to shore, Jesus had made a fire and had bread and fish already cooking. He always served them. I think he did this because of his great love for them and because he wanted them to follow his example. When Jesus asked Peter three times,"Peter, do you love me?" (one time for each denial) and Peter says,"Yes, Lord you know I love you." it makes my heart ache. Peter was so confident in his faith before his denial. When Jesus told him,"You will deny me three times." He vociferously rejected this idea telling Jesus in effect that he loved him more than all the other disciples did. He was so prideful in his faith. So was I at one time. For me, everything used to be black/white. There was no middle ground. I was so confident in my own abilities that I thought I would never fall so low as I had been. (Right now, I'm hearing in my head,"Surprise, surprise, surprise!") Basically my attitude was,"I'm right and you're wrong. If you don't see it that way now, I'll badger you until you agree with me." I was so, so prideful. I thought that I was such a different person than I was before I started following Christ. A few years, and a few ladder rungs downward, I know that I'm just as capable of doing bad things as I was before. I don't even say anymore that I "follow Christ". I say that I am a follower of Christ and that I try the best I can to do what he would have me to do. That doesn't mean that I'll actually accomplish it. I'll probably fall flat on my face several times before I realize that I'm being an idiot. When Peter sat on the shore with the risen Christ and said,"Yes, Lord you know that I love you." it makes me think that he was saying in effect,"I love you like a brother and you know that this is all that I can give you." I thought to myself during the service,"How many times have I denied Christ in my words or actions or thoughts? How much do I really love God?" My heart sank right then into what was almost despair, but then I realized that I do love God, but my love for him is not perfect, just as I am not perfect, but I am always coming back to him and asking for his forgiveness and wanting to be with him. Right as I was thinking this, Richard started to talk about David and how he committed all these atrocious sins: he slept with another man's wife; he had her husband killed, etc...but yet God called him a man after his own heart because he always admitted his sin and humbled himself before God. So, I realized that I'm ok and that made me feel a lot better and I was able to pull myself out of the cavern of my thoughts and concentrate on what was being said and after that, to worship. As if to cement what had just been on my mind, right after I was through with my inner dialogue, I looked to my left to see a good friend of mine sitting next to me in the pew. I started to really study his facial features (not paying attention again) and then I thought the most absurd thing. I said to myself,"I bet he's hung like a horse." I've never thought that way about him before. Like it really matters anyway. It disturbed me and I shook my head as if the thought would somehow magically fall out of my ear. It didn't. So, during the end of service worship, while I was standing with a white knuckled grip on the pew in front of me, I sang and prayed that God would forgive me for lusting after my friend (Why I was lusting after him is a mystery to me. I never have before and I've known him for like fifteen years.)and to forgive me further for lusting after a married man. Oh joy. The things I think about in church. I said earlier that I'm imperfect, but that, I think, is the understatement of the century.

After the service was over, I was talking to another friend of mine, Mary, about my classes at school, when Richard's wife Kacy, came up to me and asked,"What car do you drive?" I told her and then I noticed a shy, guilty face peek out from behind her back. The face said,"I just backed into your car." Before I could stop myself, I rolled my eyes and gave an exasperated sigh. I walked outside to discover that she had hit my car on the driver's side front panel and the driver's side door. She hit it so hard that I couldn't open the driver door wide enough to even get in. When I left, I had to crawl in through the passenger side over the bucket seat and the gear shift. That was fun. I managed not to say anything bad to her about her driving skills while I was copying down her insurance information. I actually wasn't really thinking anything disparaging at that moment,(Well, her boyfriend/husband was laughing like he'd never seen anything so funny and I really wanted to smack him.) but when I got in my car to drive home, the little angry woman that lives in my head started cursing like a sailor. The whole way home, I was totally fixated on how stupid I thought she was for just backing into my car like that. The mental cursing continued like a torential rainfall even after I got home. My dad asked me what was wrong as soon as I walked in the door. I guess he could tell how pissed I was. I told him about what happened and as I turned to walk to my computer room, I mumbled,"That dizzy bitch needs to learn how to drive." I kicked off my shoes so hard that they banged against the wall and ricocheted from there into my laundry basket (they were wooden clogs so it was pretty loud). I sat in my big chair and proceeded to stew in my anger. After awhile, I realized I utterly stupid I was being and then I felt like total ass. So began another session of me telling God what an awful person I am and asking him to forgive me. I am convinced that I am the most stubborn, willful, rebellious, lustful, sinful, etc...girl that ever existed. I might as well just make a flashcard that reads,"I have just [insert sin here]. I don't deserve your love and patience God. Please forgive me and restore in me a right heart." I should just carry that around with me all the time. Frustration is the word o' the day.


Do I Have A Flashing, Neon "VICTIM" Sign Over My Head?

I feel:: stressed
What song is on a loop in my head right now:: Prince~Purple Rain

Last night, at about 9:30, I leave my house, albeit unwillingly, to go to Wal-Mart for my dad. He has been bugging me to get some cat litter. I figure while I am there, I can get a few things for myself as well. Enter Creepy Middle-aged Man: I walk to the back to get vanilla soy milk. He follows me and gets chocolate soy milk. I wander over to the breakfast food aisle and pick up chocolate fudge Pop-Tarts. He gets Pop-Tarts too. I grab some peach tea mix a few aisles over; he follows me. I go all the way to the ass end of the other side of the store to pick up cat litter and he follows me there.

I make my way to the register looking around for him and expecting him to be right at my heels, but I can't find him. I relax a bit. I'm standing at the register idly reading a People magazine when I feel someone breathing down my neck. I turn cautiously and, lo and behold, it's Creepy Middle-aged Man with all of his purchases, which are identical to mine, in tow. I move forward a bit because I can't stand to be that near him; he moves forward too. I move forward again; he moves forward as well. At this point, I can't go anywhere because there is a lady in front of me dressed in a pink jogging suit waiting for the cashier to finish ringing up her purchases. To say that the cashier is slow is a gross understatement. By now, I'm nearly at full freak out. Finally, the cashier gets finished and the lady in front of me pays with her debit card. The cashier asks her,"Did you want cash back?" The lady in pink screws up her face guiltily and says,"Yes, can you give me cash back? I already pressed 'no'. Do you want me to cancel it and do it again?" Oh joy. She finally gets finished and moves away with her few purchases and it's my turn. The cashier is moving like she is under water. I keep glancing surrepititiously at Creepy Middle-aged Man to see what he is doing and how much closer he has gotten to me. At this point, I can reach out and touch him with no problem. I can even smell him. Every time I see him out of the corner of my eye, he is staring at me looking every bit like Chester the Molester. I silently will the cashier to move faster to no avail. She finally finishes, by this time, I have already gotten my keys from my purse and crammed them quickly into my pants pocket. I shove the money to the casheir and wait impatiently for my ten or so cents in change. I grab my one bag and the unbelievably heavy box of cat litter and turn to go out of the store as fast as I can when these two women, oblivious, stop right in front of me blocking my way. They are talking to each other completely unaware of anything but each other. I push their buggy aside roughly and walk as fast as my sandaled platforms will carry me out to my car. I disarm the alarm before I ever reach the car, open the driver's side door quickly, throw my purchases and my purse into the passenger seat, fall into the car, shut the door and quickly lock it. I just sit there in my car for what seems like hours. I look around for Creepy Middle-aged Man. He's nowhere to be seen, so I start my car and begin driving home. I am freaked out, but I don't quite know what to feel. I keep thinking I am just being paranoid. That thought keeps me calm for a little while, but then my fear takes me over and I start to hyperventilate. My whole face starts to tingle along with my hands and I realize I'm about to pass out while driving my car, so I force myself, with great difficulty, to breathe deeply and I slow my car down to 20 mph. I finally make it home and when I step out of my car I start to hyperventilate again. I make it inside and manage to put everything away, but my dad hears me wheezing in the kitchen from his recliner in the living room. He says,"Did everything go ok?" I don't answer. I can't. I'm having trouble catching my breath. Again, he says,"Are you ok?" I walk over to him and he finally sees me with my face swollen, red and streaked with tears. He says, "What happened?" I try to tell him in between breaths about the man, but all I get out is,"There was this man...at Wal-Mart." My dad,"Did he hurt you?" I say no and my dad says, in typical fashion, "Why are you so upset then if he didn't hurt you?" I get angry with him right then and scream raggedly," HE SCARED ME!" I feel like I'm going to pass out again, so I walk into the hallway going toward my room. All I want to do is sit down. My dad says to my back,"I'm not trying to discount it, but he didn't hurt you he just scared you." I wheel on him in a fury and scream again,"HE FOLLOWED ME ALL AROUND WAL-MART! HE WAS SO CLOSE TO ME THAT I COULD SMELL HIM!" My dad said,"Why didn't you tell security?" At this point, I feel like I could melt into the floor and I sob desperately,"What are they going to say to me,dad, when I tell them that some man was following me around Wal-Mart, but he didn't touch me? THEY ARE GOING TO TELL ME I'M A STUPID, PARANOID GIRL!" I leave him to his recliner and tv at this point and finally make it to my big chair in my room. I fall into it and pick my phone up to call Tanya. I say,"Hey." She says, worriedly,"What's wrong?" So, I tell her the whole story. In the middle of my talking to her, my dad comes to my bedroom door and asks me who I'm talking to, then he wants me to retell him everything that happened, so I did as Tanya waited on the line. Tanya keeps telling me that it's ok now, that I'm at home, that he can't get to me, and that he can't hurt me because I'm safe in my house. She keeps saying,"Everything is going to be ok," which is just what I need to hear.

So, that's my Wal-Mart adventure. No more night trips there for me.


A Peck of Paraphilias

I feel:: crazy

Peter Piper picked a peck of paraphilias. A peck of paraphilias did Peter Piper pick.
[Repeat ad nauseum.]

Yeah, I've been studying bizarre sexual behaviors way to much. This has been running through my mind on a loop all week. All work and no play makes me a dull girl. All work and no play makes me a dull girl. All work and no play makes me a dull girl. I got to see a picture of a penis sliced in half today, bound and stretched along with ball torture. Fun times.