Posts Tagged ‘relationships’

That’s a little *too* close to home for my tastes

As a dedicated Second Lifer, I can appreciate that people build actual meaningful relationships on there (I’ve even seen a few that ended in marriage). However, relationships on SL tend to flare up and burn out in record time (I think it has something to do with the fact that there are four SL days to every RL day…basically a new day starts every six hours) so what seems like true love can very easily fizzle out in just a matter of weeks.

But, in the true entrepreneurial spirit of Second Life, someone has found a way to merge both SL and RL all while keeping your privacy. While strolling around OnRez (a website that allows SL creators to sell their wares off-world, and lets addicts like me buy when they aren’t able to get in world; it also helps when you’re feeling particularly lazy and you don’t feel like in-world store hopping and dealing with lag and rez time), I found this little beauty. The concept is simple enough: You pay L$15000 (about $57 US, depending on how the Linden dollar market is doing; at the moment $1 US equals just about L$265…nice to know the US dollar is worth something somewhere, isn’t it) to purchase flowers, candy, wine or jewelry, you give these gifts to your beau in-world, they fill out some information and the gift you gave them on Second Life gets sent to them in Real Life. All without the giver ever knowing the recipient’s address or other personal information.

On one hand, this is a really good idea. Starfruit is owned by a Swiss telecom company, so it has the funding and connections to do exactly what it advertises and it ships to nearly everywhere. So why do I feel apprehensive about this idea? Simply put, there are a lot of people who are married in RL (whether happily or not) and having these sorts of gifts popping up could lead to the end of some marriages. You’re already hearing cases about how sites like Facebook and MySpace ruined someone’s marriage (sure, blame a website, let’s just ignore the big pink elephant in the room that’s carrying the banner “YOUR MARRIAGE WAS ALREADY IN TROUBLE TO BEGIN WITH”).

Plus…I dunno…it seems odd to have the two worlds intersect like that. I have lots of SL friends, but I don’t know if I’d go through the trouble of meeting up with them. I’m not sure that I’d want to meet them. Why destroy the illusion? Tucked safely away behind the avatars, people are willing to be less inhibited. They are more honest with themselves and others. I know details about people’s real lives that they wouldn’t dare tell anyone short of a priest in a confessional. Seeing that person in real life would simply bring it too close to home for my tastes.

However…I do have a birthday coming up…maybe I can drop some hints to a few friends and see if they’ll send me something *grins*

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NPR/BBC withdrawl and other random tidbits

At home we don’t have cable tv. This is because, for the most part, we don’t really watch tv. Oh we havea tv, plus a dvd and a VCR(the link is there for those of you too young to remember when everything was on VHS and there was no such think as YouTube…oh hell, if you belong to that age group, get the hell out of my blog…darn whippersnappers), but those are mostly so that The Kid can watch PowerPuff Girls(she’s Blossom and I’m Buttercup, H goes back and forth between being Professor Utonium and Mojo Jojo) and Backyardigans over and over and over and over and…while I get some work done. This means I get almost all my information and entertainment online and through the radio.

As much as I love my RSS feeds…I can’t say they hold a candle to my local NPR station(which plays BBC world service all night long *le sigh*), and it just so happens that this week is fundraising week (well until later on today) which means every five to ten minutes my favorite shows get interrupted so the employees of said NPR station can beg for money. But I sit through it, mostly because I feel it’s my penance for being too broke to get that damned totebag for a $150 pledge, but also because it’s my main source of news. So much so that, this entire week at my sister’s house, I felt completely disconnected from the rest of the world until I remembered that she has CNN on her satellite. I just happened to catch The Situation Room as they followed the Olympic Torch around San Francisco for over an hour….talk about a damn slow news day.

My sister speaks spanish fluently (which is helpful because her husband is a citizen of Spain that was born in the Dominican Republic), so she watches Novelas on TeleMundo and Univision. Which means I watch Novelas on TeleMundo and Univision because she works from home (lucky). I’ve gotten sort of addicted to them. Unlike US soap operas, Novelas don’t go on forever and ever. They have a distinct start and end point. This means that you can see an actor/actress from one Novela on a completely different one. They also have Novelas that are targeted towards teens. Like historical fiction? They have Novelas that are set in the Victorian era. I actually sort of like these novelas. I’ve never been a soap opera watcher. I hate them for the most part. Rich, beautiful white folks who make problems for themselves. For some reason I just couldn’t relate to that. Granted a lot of the characters on Novelas are rich and beautiful, but they’re Latino, which means they come in all kinds of shades and colors. And they women are CURVY. Not just big boobs. Thick legs, round bottoms, wide hips.

One of the main characters, the title character in fact, of a Novela called Victoria is a woman in her late 40’s early 50’s who was dumped by her (rich) husband for a younger woman only to find herself as the love interest of a man some 20 years her junior. Played by Victoria Ruffo (the darkhaired one), Victoria is not some super-thin impossible beauty. She is classy, always well dressed, and beautiful. She carries herself wonderfully, and yes, she has a little weight on her, but her character has had three children in the course of a 25 year marriage..no one would expect her to be some twiggy heffa. She’d be unbelieveable and no one would really relate or even feel bad for her if she were some cut and sucked plastic surgery doll. BTW this is one of my favorite shows.

Now, my sister is bilingual. I, however, am not. This means I get a play by play from her after each scene. Not as good as hearing the real thing, but she gives me the homegirl break down which adds a certain amount of spice to it.

As much as I’m enjoying this semi vacation, I kinda can’t wait to get back home. I miss being able to call things mine. Plus I forgot to grab this turkey pastrami that was on sale at Meijer last week and I really want a pastrami sandwich (turkey pastrami is about $3 cheaper than regular). More over I miss H. I need to be hugged and kissed and all that. The Kid does that…but in a completely different way.

We’re taking this weird turn in our relationship. I guess because we got married fairly young (I was 21 and he was 22), so we’re growing and changing and having to deal with those changes. I’m one of those never-say-die types so come Hell or high water we’re going ride this out.

BTW…Lewis Black, Root of All Evil….Best. Show. Ever.

The Most Disturbing Blog I’ve Ever Seen

I do a lot of blog surfing. Especially when I’m bored (which is often). And I’ve stumbled across blogs of almost every sort on almost every topic in nearly every language (thank God for Google Translator and Babel Fish). I’ve read blogs by people who are blatantly racist, sexist, homophobic, morally reprehensible, narrow minded (and not in a benign way), or just plain offensive to anyone who has any sort of morals (even the most lax). I rarely bat an eye. I’ve learned to curb my instinct to rant and rave and berate these people. Fact is they thrive off that sort of attention, so I don’t give it to them.

However, this time, I’m not disgusted. I’m not offended. I’m frightened. Not for myself, but for this blogger.

I was going through WordPress’ tag surfer when my eye fell on a blog that started “I was going to steal condoms today!” Well that was enough to stop me dead. She goes on to talk about how she didn’t get the opportunity to, what she plans to wear for her “hang-date” and how the guy she’s going out with sent her a message on Facebook. Then I looked at her login name: how to lose your virginity in 150 days.

I did a double take. That couldn’t have been what it said. But it did. I went to her blog. There was no way this was real. It couldn’t be. Could it? She was obviously young based on what she had said in the blog that I initially read. Could a young teenage girl really be scheming to lose her virginity in such a crass manner? Previous entries proved my worst fears to be real. She doesn’t have an archive up, so I had to go back through entries one at a time (each time HOPING to find some proof that this was a hoax). My heart sank when I came to her “Welcome” page:

I’m 15 years old, and most likely one of the horniest people you will ever meet. I’m on a quest to lose my virginity before I turn 16 (which is in 151 days from today), meaning I have 150 days left.

“But, NKA, it’s not really your business. This is a matter for her parents to handle.”

Well, yes, but, apparently, her parents are clueless about her plans or this blog wouldn’t have gotten to day 121 (she’s counting down). I have to wonder what sort of conversation this girl’s parents have had with her about sex and sexuality that she thinks this is the appropriate way to lose her virginity. Being homeschooled I’m guessing they gave her the abstinence talk, but not much else.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not stupid. I know teens have sex every damn day, but most don’t document their quest to lose their virginity with the desperation this girl does, and I wonder if this goal of hers is going to cause her to be reckless (we’ve already seen she’s having problems getting condoms [even though you can get them free just by searching “free condoms” on google]). Not only that, but I wonder about where she’s meeting these guys she plans to meet and try to have sex with. Not every 17 year old boy online is a 17 year old boy in real life.

This is why I’m a total advocate of invading your kid’s privacy (to an extent). So long as your modem is working, the whole world is at your door and not all of them give a half a damn about you or your family. In fact, a startling large number of them don’t.

I’m not wholly against homeschooling. I once met a five year old that was homeschooled and knew her times tables (though whether she knew them or had simply memorised them is something I’ll never know). But if you’re going to cut your kid off like that (and it is cutting them off, especially when you’re already “in the middle of nowhere” [her words]), you need to make sure you’re teaching them every last thing they’ll need to know about surviving in the world past the end of their driveway.

Reading her blog you can tell she’s naive, beyond the normal naivety that most 15 year old girls have. She is putting herself in harms way just because she wasn’t taught how to handle her hormones.

Part of me wants to keep an eye on her blog (the part of me that wants to save everyone), but part of me can’t bear to watch this girl put herself at risk.

I dunno…maybe I’ll decide tomorrow. Right now, I have to go kiss my baby girl and pray to God I don’t make whatever mistakes this girls parents made that set her on this road.

Addendum: I don’t blame her parents for what she’s doing. She’s smart enough to know what she’s doing isn’t exactly going to rank high on their list of things they approve of, this is proven by the fact that she goes through great lengths to hide her identity. Therefore she’s smart enough to understand she’s taking a huge risk. But understanding something intellectually and accepting as a truth it are two different things. I’m certain her parents did their absolute level best. That they taught her what they thought she needed to know. Sometimes though, in protecting our kids, we strip them of the weapons necessary to live in this world. And with the best of intentions, we send them into the world, declawed and toothless. Every parent screws up in some aspect of raising a kid (the fact that The Kid isn’t irreversibly traumatised is still amazing to me), it’s a daunting task and we can only do what we feel is right and best and hope to God that it really is.

If anything, her parents have my deepest sympathies. If I could possibly hunt down her parents to alert them, I most certainly would. Without a single moment’s hesitation.

Protected: Teaching this old dog a new trick…and some other stuff too

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The Relationship Between Good Hygene and a Long Life

BEIJING (Reuters) – A Chinese bride burned her new husband to death after he got into bed after a drunken argument without washing his feet, state media reported on Wednesday.

“Wang and his wife, Luo, were married on February 2. The couple, however, frequently fought over trivial things while still on their honeymoon,” the official Xinhua news agency quoted a local newspaper as saying.

The couple, from the central province of Hubei, had another fight on the night of March 4, “and in frustration they together drank a bottle of liquor to ease their anger.”

“At about 10 p.m., Luo watched her husband get into bed without cleaning or washing his feet. In a fit of anger and intoxication, she set fire to the sheet he was sleeping in,” the report said.

“When he awoke, the two began fighting before a very drunk Wang collapsed. As fire engulfed the bedroom. Luo escaped to the living room, leaving her other half to burn,” it added.

The woman has been arrested, Xinhua said.

Protected: This time change is killing me…and other random thoughts

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Alls well that ends well….I guess….well…not really

If you’re curious as to what happened to me and my friend (MT) since I last wrote about us parting ways so he could pursue another avenue…we’re still good friends. And the avenue turned into a dead end. I won’t get into the whole mess because I’m just drained over the whole situation and I don’t have the energy to rehash it all over again. Essentially, someone one led him to believe one thing, then turned around and did another. Sucks doesn’t it.

But MT and I are still friends, a bit bruised in our friendship but no worse for the wear.

I’m feeling a bit peevish today

Last night, around midnight, I got a text from H. “We need to have a meeting.”

Now take note, “meeting” can mean a few things between us.  On one hand there can be something major that’s about to come up and we need to discuss it. It could mean a change in our usual course of things. It could mean something is bothering him. It could also mean sex. So I replied, “What’s the meeting about?”

H: Everything.

Me: Well, that’s kind of vague. What about everything.

H: Just get your rest. We’ll talk tomorrow

Me: I don’t like these “meetings” where you say we need to talk but don’t tell me what about.

H: Ok, so let’s have the meeting now. Meet me in the kitchen. (this was a sarcastic reply, he was at work)

Me: That’s not what I’m saying. I just want to know what brought this on. Is it so damn bad that I want to know what’s on your mind?

H: Everything means anything that comes to mind BTW. Feel free to bring any questions or concerns to the table.

Now that was what I wanted to know. See, I’m horrible at talking (he knows this), so these surprise “meetings” feel like an ambush if I don’t know what he wants to talk about. I can’t just get my thoughts together in a timely manner like that. It sucks because I can do it in writing any time I want. My text and instant messages are full of thoughtful and insightful things. I can be poetic, philosophical, witty…but you sit me down face to face and I become mute. A friend once told me “We have great conversations on text message, but in person you never talk.” That sums it up pretty well.

My friend Ihsan found a wiki article that described me really well. Initially he found it for himself, but reading over it I kept thinking “That’s me.” It was nice to know that there was a name for how I felt, as opposed to feeling like a freak for being the anti-social one in a very social family

So now I’m waiting on H to wake up (he worked from 4pm to 8am) so we can have this “meeting”. Personally I don’t really have much to talk about that he doesn’t already know about. Well, there are one or two things, but I need to research them further before actually going into them with him.

The main points I think I’m going to bring up are 1) saving up some cash so I can get my bike fixed for the summer; 2) joining this health club that opened up nearby (that’s a lot cheaper than powerhouse/golds/bally’s/etc.); 3) possibly taking a week or so by myself and going somewhere during the summer, that’s something I really need to do. I’d probably go to the west side of the state and hang out in Holland by the beach; 4) my eternal struggle with getting a bloody job. Apparently being unemployed for four years, not having a college degree and being a mom are negative points in the business world. Not to mention all my “professional” references are people I knew back in college or while working in high school, so they’ve moved around quite a bit and even if I could remember their last names (which I can’t), finding their phone numbers would be nothing short of impossible.

I’m still sick too, btw. I can’t shake this cold for the life of me. I really hope it doesn’t get any worse.

…And then BAM! it hits you

This evening wasn’t a very good one for me. I had something of an episode.

H asked me what was wrong with a little too much attitude in his voice. So I left the kitchen (where I had been sitting) and went upstairs to my room. I started crying. Not bawling, just crying. The Kid knew something was up and started to come up after me (she’s pretty intuitive for a four year old), but H stopped her and made her go back into the living room. That I was happy for. Fact is I don’t like her seeing me upset. I’ve only recently gotten on anti-deps, so for three years she’s seen me at my worst. I don’t want her seeing me like that, or even near that, again.

All the things “wrong” came pouring from me while I sat there. I grabbed a pen and paper and scribbled them down, sobbing the whole time but feeling better with each line that I wrote. A little over two pages later I went back down stairs and dropped the notebook on the kitchen table for H to read (that is if he actually could read it…my handwriting got a little bad as everything flowed from me). Then I went back upstairs to the bathroom and ran a shower. After standing under the water for a few minutes I flipped up the lever to close the tub drain, sat down and let the shower head fill the tub and the water pound down on my back and neck.

Once I started losing hot water I turned the shower off and laid back, sinking slowly into the water until my nearly my entire head was submerged, leaving only my nose and mouth above the water. I allowed my body to just relax and float (insomuch as one can in your average bathtub). In that suspended state my mind cleared. I could hear noise through the water, but I focused on the sound of my heartbeat and breathing.

That’s as close as I ever get to a truly deep, meditative state. In my tub, mostly submerged, listening to the blood pulse in my ears and my breathing. And it was here that I discovered what the true source of my episode was. A mass of conflicting emotions over a situation with a friend. The answer came right after: I had to be honest with him and make the hard choice neither of us really wanted to make.

After running what I was going to say through my head a few times, using my breathing as a sort of metronome to keep the thoughts from racing too fast for me to put together properly, I emerged from the water (once near scalding hot, now luke warm), ran some conditioner through my hair (soaking as long as I did underwater will turn my curly hair into a natted mess) and got out, confident in what I had to do.

And I did it. And I bawled for about an hour and a half afterwards. I hurt someone I loved dearly, but did it so they’d have the freedom they needed to do what will, hopefully, end with them being happy. It hurt like fuck on my end, and I’m sure it wasn’t very pleasant on theirs either. I cried a few more times after that too. One friend assured me it was the right thing to do. A mutual friend of ours echoed the sentiment. I know it’s right. But right still feels like having a limb torn from you.

But that’s the way these things work. You struggle for the right answer, the one that makes everyone happy. And sometimes there is no answer that makes everyone happy. Sometimes you have to just hurt someone, and yourself, in the process of making them happy.

Ah hell…I won’t end on that load of pseudo-philosophical bullshit. Fact is I tore out his heart and mine all in one swift move and I did it because I loved him enough to want him to be happy in his life and that wasn’t going to happen so long as I was still holding on to him. That was the answer I came up with to my problem. It was a fucked up answer, but if I had kept on the way I was it would have been detrimental to my emotional health, and I know he wouldn’t have wanted that.  I still consider him one of my closest friends and confidants. He knows me inside and out. I don’t know if he’ll forgive me, or even talk to me, but I’ll have to live with it anyway.

Spanking Makes You Kinky

So maybe that explains it…

Doing my morning rounds of RSS feeds, I came across this link in Mistress Matisse‘s blog.

I dunno if I agree though. I can’t say I know anyone who doesn’t have some sort of kink or “perversion”. Also they don’t really explain their definition of “sexual deviancy”. I know folks who think talking dirty during sex would qualify you as a deviant. On the other hand, I know a girl who enjoys being spit on and humiliated during sex (no I mean really humiliated, the less of an actual person she feels like during sex, the better it is for her) and everyone that knows her pretty much agrees that she fits the definition of “sexual deviant” (and these are people who are pretty out in the open with their kinks).

I grew up being spanked (pretty often too, I was a little hellion), and I admit, I have some kinks (nope not gonna list em here), but I don’t think it has anything to do with being spanked as a kid. If anything, I would connect it to the fact that I was just plain rough as a kid. I was a tomboy from the age of 6. Being the only girl in my neighborhood pretty much made sure of that for me. I fought, wrestled, rode bikes, climbed trees and did all the things that most boys did…because that’s all I had to play with. Boys. When a girl my age finally moved into my neighborhood, we played a bit, but she was too girly for my tastes. She wore skirts and kept her hair nicely done. Me, you couldn’t pay me to wear a skirt (except when forced to by the nazis in catholic school…maybe that explains my kinks…). For all that, I was never sexually promiscuous. Yes, I did the normal high school experimentation, but didn’t have actual “sex” until I was 19. Even when I started having sex I was picky about my partners. I had a monogamous relationship for over a year and a half; after that ended I had a series of partners whose numbers remain in the single digits. Then I got married.

That was it for me.

It was the same for my (older) sister. She was spanked too. She was my complete opposite. She was the “golden child” of the family. Very girly. Dated often. But wasn’t promiscuous. I think she actually had fewer partners than I did before she got married (I got married about two years before she did).

On the other hand, we’ve had friends (and family members) who weren’t spanked, but instead were sheltered. Once they got an ounce of freedom, they became the village bike.

Maybe me and my experiences are the exception and not the rule. But, then again, maybe it’s time we stopped being afraid of actually enjoying sex. Hell, even the Catholics stopped promoting the idea that sex for enjoyment (as opposed to strictly for procreative reasons) was bad. Not every position outside of missionary is deviant.

You like being spanked? Fine. You like being tied up? Go for it. You like having clamps put on your nipples and being shocked with low doses of electricity? Erm…well…if that’s your kink and you can find someone to participate with you…why not.

Folks want to tackle the problem of promiscuity and risky sexual behavior in teens, how about we start with what these little brats are watching on TV?

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