Same Shit, Different Guy

I hate him.

It's a hard realization to come to, knowing that you really well and truly hate someone. "Hate" is a hard emotion to deal with, after all, and the people I've dealt with in my life who I truly have come to hate are people who you wouldn't normally expect. People who you'd think I would still love, no matter what they did.

But I hate him. I hate this one, too. I hate him because he never listens, he only hears what he wants to hear, and if what you're saying isn't what he wants to hear, he will shout at you until you adjust your choice of words to what he wants you to say. I hate him because he values brute force over all else. I hate him because he still gives completely undeserved respect to the first one I truly hated. I hate him because we went through the same shit, so we should be on the same page, be damn inseparable, but instead, we're on different fucking planets. I hate how he keeps showing up in my real friends' lives, even peripherally. I hate his smarmy little comments, his attempts to charm. I hate him for so many reasons. He's a douchebag, and possibly a true sociopath. I've never seen him do anything that would indicate that he cares about anything other than himself and what he's sticking his dick into. Most everything he's done, he's done for his own comfort. And I hate him.

I should try to let go of the hate. I let go of the hate for the one before him. It was hard, it took me years, but I was young and stupid and thought that actively hating someone I wasn't keeping in my life was a good idea. All it does is hurt the person doing the hating. I realized that, and I let go of the active part of that hate. But this one... all it takes is one little comment on one of my friends' statuses, and I want to completely eradicate his existence. It's new hate, so it's illogical like that at times, and I know that someday, it'll fade to a low burn, like what exists for the first, but right now, it flares.

I'm supposed to be helpful for him soon. There's going to be a phone call which could result in him going away for a very long time if I'm properly helpful. But I hate him. There's only one way I've been asked to be helpful, after all. What shall I do when that single question I'm meant to be "good" for passes? "Yes, I think he's simply perfect; he has a great disdain for any authority not his own and thinks that the best way to prove you're right is to smash the other guy into the ground, because being tougher proves your rightness! He also hates taxes 'cause he's a greedy bastard, and doesn't think inner-city kids need after-school programs and the like, because he, a spoiled suburb boy, didn't need them, so why should they?"

I hate him. I don't quite know how to deal with it, because I can't cut him out the way I did the first. He seems to actually be somewhat... *friends* with *my* friends. MY friends. And it makes me want to do things the Rede clearly forbids. Some of the answers I want to give when that phone call comes in could count as violating the Rede. I just hate that this appears to be my fate, and I hate him.

Believe it or not, I am actually fond of Valentine's Day.

I know what you're thinking: "Of *course* you like it, Chii; you have a boyfriend, and have for years!" Ah, but here's the irony: I have found a love who loathes the VD Juggernaut as much as I detest what is commonly shoved down my throat as "Christmas Spirit" (and trust me, that's quite a bit). Now, I'd be lying if I said I'd never spent a single Valentine's Day in my teens lamenting my lack of Valentine for the day--who hasn't, after all, especially at that age? But having a man whose philosophy on the day is that if he truly loves me, he'll be showing it all the year round, and not just on one particular day, has caused me to sit back and really examine what Valentine's Day is all about, and I think I've got it.

Valentine's Day is about love.

Okay, yes, it's also about card companies and florists and chocolatiers making a shitton of money off of people who think that's what Valentine's Day is all about. For them, it's about money. By that logic, so is Christmas. But the real meaning of Valentine's Day is to celebrate love, and the sad truth is, most people think that the only love there is is the romantic kind. I happen to know for a fact that that is bullcrap. Think about it: You love your parents (provided they're not horrible, sick, twisted, evil human beings). Would you ever *romance* them? No! And that's one of the only things that bothers me about this upcoming day. I have plenty of single friends who, whenever this time of year comes around, find themselves inundated with red and pink and white and hearts and flowers and teddy bears with various expressions of love plastered all over them. Couples seem to come out of the woodwork solely to be gooshy and romantic right in front of the singletons, it seems. Everywhere is the reminder that this is the one day a year you're truly allowed to be romantic in public, and the implications (no matter how unmeant) that you are somehow less worthy, less valued, less important, because you lack an "other half". My single friends, throw that bullcrap on the floor and stomp on it. On this Day of Love, take the time to recognize the love you have in your life, whether it's romantic or not. Let me give you some examples:

Every day, when you come home from work, you call out that you're home. Your pet returns the call, either by running to the door and greeting you or vocalizing some how that they know you have returned now. You spend the evenings alone but for your pet, mostly, and your cat curls on your lap and purrs the moment you sit and provide him with one. Or maybe your dog runs in circles around you, jumps and wags her tail while grinning like a madman at the sight of you. Heck, maybe even your very particular parrot, who only lets you handle them, will sit on your shoulder and nuzzle against you. Your pets love you.

For years, you have known a particular person. You've known each other so long, you think of each other as siblings, or damn near. Perhaps you haven't spoken to them in some time, or you've gone through phases of varying degrees of contact, yet no matter what, whenever you see each other again, things are exactly as they've always been. Somehow you never really lose their friendship or their companionship, and you know that no matter what, you will always have them to rely upon. Your friend loves you.

Those are just some specific examples. People develop fondness and love for many different things. A person can love their job, or their hobby. A person can love a sport, whether they participate in it or just watch it on TV. A person can love their gun, or any kind of weapon. A person can love food, or education, or books... the list goes on. Love is not a solely romantic emotion; it has facets and faces and aspects that can go on forever, always fulfilling a niche somewhere in your needs. You do not need a lover to feel love, and you should remember that any and every day you begin to think that might be true. So this Valentine's Day, take the time to acknowledge the many different loves in your life, no matter what they are or how they've come into your life. It is love, it is a part of you, and it is wonderful. Celebrate it!

06 Nov 2007
I love my boyfriend
Category: Romance and Relationships

Now, this may not interest many of you, but it is a thought (or series of thoughts) that I've been wanting to get down for a little while.

I love my boyfriend.

What this means (at least to me) is that he makes me happy. He makes me smile. His happiness is my happiness. His sorrow is my sorrow. His fear and anger (when he opts to show the former) is mine as well. Frankly, I would have it no other way. This is the man who has had my heart for years now. I know he is (at the moment) twice my age, but really, what I feel for him is love, purely, truly, plain and simple (or complex; that depends on your views and thought on love).

Now. There seems to be some confusion in the minds of men when they learn of my other half's age in relation to mine. This confusion seems to make men think that I am a gold digger of some sort. I am not. If all I was after was a sugar-daddy, Brad would have been kicked to the curb a long, long time ago (romantically, at least. Sorry love, but you know it's true). This confusion, despite my explination of how special and different Brad is, also seems to make men think that I am into ALL older men in that age bracket. This, also, is untrue of my nature. As I always explain when I mention my love, while I do prefer my men to be older than me, Brad is the only man his age who has ever been attractive to me. Why, men Brad's age exactly, and sometimes even ten to fifteen years younger than me have flirted with me in the past, and all I've thought was, "Ew, you're old. Go away." Which brings me to the third part of this confusion, which apparently makes men think that since I am dating a significantly older man, I am the town bicycle. I AM NOT. I am no swinger, and I have never seen the point in cheating on a person. If one is unsatisfied by their current lover/significant other, and one wishes to be with somebody else, then by all means, end your current relationship, and pursue someone else! I am with the only man I have ever called "lover", and I hope for it to stay that way.

So, let's sum this up.

I am in love with my boyfriend. I am not a gold-digger, so don't try to lure me away with the promise of money. I am not into all men Brad's age (indeed, Brad is the exception), so if you consider yourself to be in his age bracket (or above), please, don't bother. And thirdly, I AM NO SLUT, so quit trying to woo me away from my man's side long enough for a roll in the hay.

We clear now?

Well, I figured it would be fair for me to give you guys a basic update on me.

I created a review blog. It is http://www.chii-chan-review.blogspot.com . Check it out.

This blog will be used for more personal things, you know, notices about my life, rants, that sort of thing.

Oh, and I changed the layout. As much as I liked the sandy one, I liked this blue one better.

So yeah.

Chii-chan out.

Well, well. I think it's safe to say it's been a damn long time since I posted. :/ Ugh.

Well, I lost that job at Ralph's, and I'm still looking for a job. Unfortunately, no matter how many places I apply at, and no matter how often I follow up and try to keep my name and face fresh in their memories, nobody's hiring me. My mom's pissed, like I'm not trying hard enough. D: Pisses me off.

Anyway, I've been thinking about making this blog into a review page or something for webcomics and comics and novels and the like. Been thinking about it for a while. Maybe I'll do it.

Later.

[07 May 2007 Monday]
Sew.... knit.... crochet.... cross-stitch... embroider....

So, lessee. A review of my weekend, yes?

Let's begin with Friday. On Friday, a very important event occurred. I GOT A JOB. That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I have re-entered the world of the employed.... kinda. See, it's for the Ralph's Fuel Center that will be opening up up the street from me.... on the 16th. And that's if all goes well. When I was signing all the employment paperwork, the managers at the Ralph's told me that there had been some delays in the construction, so it might open later than that. Still, they're training me this weekend, so if everything opens on time, I'll be good and ready to go.

When I got home on Friday, I went to the mailbox and got the mail. Upon dropping it on the table, I started sorting through, hoping and hoping and hoping to find a certain envelope.... and lo and behold, a small, non-professional-looking envelope appeared before me, with my name written in carefully-cramped pencil in the center, two stamps, and "Emil Enoch" in the same carefully-cramped handwriting in the upper-left hand corner. I squealed with joy (I believe my precise words were "Yay!! Squeee!!!") and ran into my room to tear open 1) my first bit of written mail from a friend in years, and 2) to collect the money for the ragdolls said friend ordered from me where my brother could not see. : D Yes, this is my first commission, and I'm SOOOOOOOO excited about it. Her letter was great, and covered with doodles (gotta love artists, eh?), and she sent me the original of one of a pic she drew for me as part of an art trade (viewable at http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/45643929/). I LOVE IT. It's getting framed and hung up when I get my own place. I may even get a frame that will hold both the picture and the letter together, so I can hang them both up for everyone's viewing pleasure. : D Tee-hee. So, generally speaking, Friday rocked. I got a job, I got money for another job, and I maintained a general level of happy all day. And there isn't even a "but" to that. That's what makes it even better.

Saturday I went to Southern with a newfound courage, thanks to my new state of employment and the extra money from the doll commissions. First and foremost, I made sure to find Becca and Krista, and I spoke with them at length, asking if we were all still friends in light of recent events (outlined as best as I could, from my perspective, in my two previous blogs [before "I Hurt"]). They both told me essentially the same thing--that they were just tired of drama, and they were totally over the whole "rumor" thing, and just wanted to wash their hands of it. Do they still consider me to be their friend? Yes. The relief and joy I feel for knowing this is immeasurable. I don't care if the whole damn faire hates me, as long as I still have Becca and Krista to go to when I need someone to be a friend. Despite the short amount of time we've known each other for (and considering how often we see each other), I consider them both to be among my best and closest friends. I don't know what I would have done if they no longer cared for me. I learned of several strange things as well--that either before my absence from the faire the previous weekend, or because of it, the rumors about my spreading rumors had blown themselves so out of proportion, some people apparently thought my pass had been pulled. I don't know how tales of my supposed rumor-spreading went from "she's been talking this shit" to "she got her pass pulled", and frankly, I don't care. I can't figure out why anyone would think I got my pass pulled for supposedly talking shit. From what I've heard, it takes something much worse than supposedly spreading rumors to get yourself blackballed. Examples I've heard? Scalping tickets, attacking/heckling/seriously mistreating customers, engaging in child pornography, et cetera, et cetera. At any rate, I confronted the person I suspected of spreading the rumors in a very calm, rational manner, and before I could even ask if they were the one, they assured me that they were not, and that "I'm not that kind of person." However, when I asked if they knew who had started the rumor, they said they didn't know. I'm not even worried that it wasn't my suspect. They were the only one who I feel really had a reason to do that to me, so I called them on it. Since it wasn't them (at least, that's what they say), I don't care. Nobody else is really worth my time or energy to confront. I did what I felt I had to do, and I feel much better for it. Case closed.

After faire on Saturday, I went down to Koroneburg to spend time with Brad and Allyce, and also to celebrate my state of being newly-employed. I was there until about 10 PM, then I went home, as I needed to shower and sleep and ready myself for faire on Sunday. Of course, if I hadn't had to go to faire the next day, I might have seriously considered crashing in Brad's tent.....

Anyway, yesterday was hot. Really hot. Really effing hot. And windy, too, but only in those stupid bursts. I think we were getting caught in dust-devils or something all day. I was seriously considering getting the boys to cry this bit of news in the food court: "HEAR YE, HEAR YE! It's HOT! Drink water! Lots of it! Seriously! We're dropping our accents and everything! So DRINK WATER!", but they didn't. We *did* cry the news, though, while the Queen was knighting children at the Kid's Kingdom. Fabian ticked me off before we went on Queen's Progress, but I got over it. Mostly. Aside from the heat, not much happened. I played with the Foolies and Revelers, and danced before the opening gate show for old times' sake, and because it was my last day there. I got to walk and talk with Richard (who I gave one of my <3 favors to the day before) for a little while, which is always a pleasure. It was generally a good day, heat and wind aside. Afterwards, I went back to Koroneburg and rehearsed "Morgan" with Fabe, Mentor, and Kearson. Aside from tripping up on a few lines, I remembered my part (from watching it over and over again at Big Bear last year, oh my!) pretty much perfectly. We even got to work on blocking a few times. I think we'll be fine when we do it. Some jerks made us look bad, though, because they needed a key to the gate to get out of the festival grounds, and they left said gate wide the fuck open, which pissed Tom off. Well, it pissed us off, too, because we were the ones that loaned them the key, so they made us look like peripheral douches. Grr. Other than that (and mosquitos), the evening ran smoothly. I came home, relaxed on the computer, showered, and slept like a baby until five this morning, when I awoke with hunger pains, and was woken again a quarter after seven by my stepdad, reminding me that I had promised to give Kyle a ride to school, as he sprained his ankle over the weekend. I thought I'd nap when I got back home, but the traffic surrounding the high school proved to be too much to let me remain drowsy, so I've been awake since 7-ish. Not the time I *like* to be awake at, but there's also a strange kind of calm to the day when it's that early in the morning, a calm I don't get to experience much. I like it, I really do.... I just really wanted to sleep in this morning. Oh well.

Anyway, that's all there is to me right now. What about you?

<3
Chii-chan

Currently listening : Laura By Scissor Sisters Release date: By 02 November, 2004

[20 Apr 2007 Friday]
Concerns

First off, just a few thoughts I wanted to get out of my head.

Someone has been spreading rumors about me, saying that I've been (haha) spreading rumors. While the irony of this is not lost on me (and indeed, Irony and I had a few good laughs about it once I was able to really sit back and look at the situation), there are a few things that bug me about it. I suppose we should start by looking at the rumor I was supposedly spreading--that my friends, Krista and Becca, were not happy in the Fool's guild, and were thinking of becoming Criers. I've gone back over my blogs, and found the statement that might be misconstrued as that--however, making it seem like I was saying that is a bit difficult, as all I said was "Oh yeah, and my foolie friends, Krista and Becca, visited a lot, too" at the end of a paragraph that started with "It seems like everyone wants to be a Crier"--a clearly joking statement if you read the accounts of the other actors who visited with the Criers backstage (all members of hugely successful stage shows in the faire circuit. I mean, really. Do you honestly think that two-thirds of Sound and Fury and a Poxy Boggard *really* want to leave their paying gigs for peanuts ringing bells at the front of a parade?). Now, for the things that bug me about this.

1) This person went up to my friend, Becca, and told her that I had been "going around", saying that she and Krista were unsatisfied in the Fool's guild, and wanted to become Criers, or leave in general. "Going around" implies that I talk to other people in Guild Ghetto. For future reference, I assume that everyone in Guild Ghetto (with the exception of my guild) wants to kill me, therefore, I exchange no words with anyone back there unless they address me first. Therefore, I could not have been "going around", spreading this rumor, as I never speak unless spoken to. Logical, right?

2) Second, the loosely-tied statements I made to form the rumor of the rumor I was spreading came from a blog which was, as all my blogs are, "friends only". This person was not on my friendslist at the time that I posted that blog (and still isn't). Therefore, in order for them to have gotten the information from that blog, they either did some snooping/hacking, or had someone do it for them. Even worse is the thought that someone read it and messaged this person, saying, "Hey, look what that bitch is saying now!", and completely misconstrued my words. (If that is the case, rest assured, once I determine who that person is, they will be removed from my friendslist--anyone who would twist my words like that is clearly NOT a friend.)

Now, I cleared everything up with Becca, when she found me before a parade and asked me if what she had heard was true. Still, though, if someone is (for whatever perverse reason) reporting what I say to parties that dislike me, or is snooping into my blogs via hacking a mutual friend's account, I'm growing tired of it. I've had enough shit flung in my direction because of things I've said in a private blog, with information specifically meant never to reach someone. I don't mind when my own words are bad enough on their own, but when two innocent statements of mine are twisted and ripped and distorted and glued together to make something I didn't say at all, it angers me. Of course I should expect it--I've clearly earned myself enemies, and if I've learned one thing from TV and Politics, it's that people will fuck around with your words until they have you saying things you've never said, yet still somehow did. It frustrates me to no end.

Anyway, on to more lighthearted matters.... I guess.

I was so busy today, I wasn't able to look for an apartment OR a job in Apple Valley via the VV Daily Press online. I'm kinda glad I was busy--I've been desperately wanting something to do, you have no idea--but I really need a job, and since I ultimately want to move up to Apple Valley for this phase of my life, getting one up there (and preferably BEFORE my mother forces me put down roots down here) is the best thing I can do right now. Still, I had no real chances to look, and I'm going to be busy this weekend. You know, Faire and stuff. I'll look on Monday. I hope I'm well enough.

Did y'all know glass can explode? I didn't. I found out it could today. It was a little scary (but it was also a very little candle-holder, so it had no potential to become a "big scary").

I'm getting involved in a show which has been causing all kinds of drama. I know I'll only be taking a part for two weeks, but a part of me is wary. Maybe it's because I've never had a speaking role onstage. Maybe it's because I've seen all the trouble and anger and drama this show has been causing, and I'm anxious about taking one of the parts, even if it's only for two week(end)s. Maybe I'm just overreacting. I'm young, I'm pretty.... I can be Kendra for two weekends. What's the worst that could happen?

There's so much drama in the world. Sheesh. I hope that someday, I'll be rich enough to live in a nice, isolated little spot away from all of it. I'll farm and stuff. It won't be too horribly hard, especially if I'm rich.

Earlier today, my boyfriend dumped a lot of his stresses on me. Okay, saying he "dumped" his issues on me is a bit unfair. What happened, more accurately, is we were talking, and he had many stressful things on his mind, and he talked about them at length while I sat on the other end, listening, wishing I could do something to make things better in his world. I just feel so cheap when all I have to say when he's done venting is "I really wish there was something I could do to help," or, "I wish I was there for you." That, my friends, is why long-distance relationships suck. When the one you love needs you most, oftentimes, you can't be there, even if all you can do for them is hold them and give them your moral support. Still, I'll see him this weekend. I'll give him my love and support then.

Hmmm.... not much else to say at the moment. It's almost midnight, and I'm gonna be setting my alarms for frikkin' 6 AM. (Gotta be consious enough to drive, y'know.) Take care.

~Chii-chan