My friend MARNI

So, I've just picked up the "Mother Zone" a book by Marni Jackson, and I have to say, it is come at quite the right time for me. She opens up about her family, like few do. I am really about opening up, and sharing my feelings, but have found the a lot of people really don't like to do that. They may pretend that they do, but really - they don't.

Truly, I am trying to build friends for Stinkapee, after having gone thru so much change and difficulties over the past year, or rather I should say - after having so much change thrown at her over the past few years - I really want to put my best effort forward in trying to get her some nice friends. You know, I've found, that for the most part, children aren't nice.

So, at this point, I'm trying to build allies for her. I don't want to risk alienating the parents and then risk Stinkapee a play date. I don't have to connect with them on all things politically, I just want Stinkapee to have some fun.

Anyway, reading Jackson - was like reading a friend. I was having a melt down yesterday. Today is a better day, for sure.

For me, the men I meet don't meet me where I am, and always leave me feeling off. Today I'm putting out a posting for my men's group. I'll write more later...

RESENTMENTi shouldn't be writing this, but I want all my time back, not some, but all... and I want that denial pill again...and...

The clothes need to get folded, stuff needs to get done, piles of paper need to be picked up, a lot of things need to get done around the house. I know this. I know this. I know this. But I want to sleep, I want to go walking, I want to go for a beer, I want to fuck off! And I don't want to negotiate with anyone. I don't want to negotiate with DD, AND I also want to be taken care off, I want to loved, I want to be pampered; I don't want to have to do anything, I don't want to take people's feelings in to consideration, I don't want to feel my feelings, I want to pretend I don't see, I want to run, I want to be left to wander, I want a large bank account, I want stuff handed to me on a silver platter, I don't want to be accountable for my actions, I don't want to be accountable for my actions, I don't care... I don't care... I don't care...

I'd don't like to answer questions, I don't want this and I don't want that. Everyone, fuck off! I just want silence! I just want no one to talk to me. Okay, I want everyone to talk to me! AHHHHHH!

I'm a teenager! I'm a child! I'm confused! Well, I know what I want. And it's ALL juvenile! But it is ...
Ok, I need to go and read a post I wrote a couple of days back. No doubt, I'll be like: oh yes: I remember writing this - I must have blanked it, .. i feel like crying now.. I feel like a mess...
ok.. i'm going to read the post called: "Took a trip to Monrovia, Dad revealed." April 11.2007

Reading this post should ground me. Then I'm going for a walk around the block, and taking some deep breaths. Then I'm going to have a chat with myself (or on this blog)

Blood, Piss, and Shyt...

So, I'm thinking about my relationship to the human body, and how much I hate my body, and how much I hate the female body, and how much I hate stuff oozing out of bodies. Ok, so my rationale *adult* self doesn't show this for real- in public - but I do hate it.

I've been thinking about how I see and understand the human body, and it is in a very surface way. What this post is really about is the game of denial of play with myself, and how dangerous is actually is. I have issues on my body that need to get checked. I have dental stuff. I have bones stuff. I have a fair number of things that need to be checked out by a homeopath.

IN terms of the blood, piss, and shyt.. well, I have issue with women's bodies, how they work, and what they do. I want to talk about how I expect women to be the picture of cleansed, while I think it's okay to walk around spitting, whorking, outside - the car, on the sidewalk. Sounds like your typical double standard. Sounds pretty basic.

But it is the truth.

I came from a sanitized family house, devoid of mention of bodily functions and when it was mentioned, it was usually frowned on, or in the case farts, laughed. One thing is for sure, ther was no discussion around what women's bodies do - how they work, or anything like that. My father explained nothing. NOTHING. period. My mom either. So, I'm realizing as I write this, that I have another piece of me that I'm set to repeat with my children (and myself) which is fear of the female body - which is a book...
More coming...