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Last night I started writing a blog entry regarding the engineer and the fact that I feel emotionally frozen…well that's not true since I feel a lot of things but I haven't been able to communicate them. I just don't know what to say, so I just ignore e-mails, phone calls, texts….well communication in general. In order to escape my thoughts and feelings I've been reading a lot…And last night's book was Listen Up: Voices from the Next Feminist Generation edited by Barbara Findlen….where I found It's a Big Fat Revolution by Nomy Lamm...and interesting enough she states one of my deepest and darkest thoughts, that I don't like to admit to…even to myself…

I will never fall in love because I cannot be picked up and swung around in circles….

After I read that I wanted to slap myself for ever thinking those words myself…

And then I thought that its official I have been brainwashed by society to think I am ugly and undesirable to men. The worst part is that when I look in a mirror I see someone who is beautiful, sexy, and voluptuous…among other things… yet I can't accept that a guy could find me attractive or desirable in any way. Even when a guy does find me attractive, desirable, sexy, beautiful…I don't believe him…whenever I get a compliment from a guy I ignore him, I walk away, and I'm the one who rejects him because I don't know how to react. Society tells me in so many ways that the only way I'm ever going to be considered desirable is if I fit into the monstrosity of a model that Barbie created…meaning the anatomically incorrect model of a tiny waist, thin/slender body…almost to the point of being malnourished, huge breast that defy gravity, long legs, and let's not forget the round firm backside now….

It's so sad that I have ridicule so many people who do outrageous things that seem to me to be in the name of vanity…when all along I am one of them too… I have swallowed countless of diet pills, been on so many diets, and starved myself, never allowing myself to eat in front of a guy who I thought of as attractive all because I thought he might think I'm gluttonous and disgusting….and meanwhile of course feeling guilty and shameful for not being Barbie herself… Yet a part of me is still capable of protecting myself from the insanity in my head…for example, being proud of being a nonconformist…or at least I thought so.

I remember years ago arguing with my brothers about my weight… My eldest brother would insist that I lose weight not because of any health reasons but because he thought conformity was an easier way of life (well he still thinks so). Does he actually think that my life would be peachy if I was a size 2 or 5? Oh how silly of me, I forget that all life's problems are solved by conforming to what society dictates….and here I was trying to figure out who I was and how to be true to myself and be happy….how truly selfish of me… And whenever I use to argue with my other brother about wanting him to clean up after himself around the house, his retaliation was to attack my weight and body issues…oh yes, I was the useless, unwanted, fat, sister…who is blame for everything that might go wrong…. Can you feel that sibling love?

Incomplete thoughts of 1/26/10:

A couple of weeks ago, I e-mailed the engineer to ask him what happened to change his attitude towards me and to my surprise he responded. After reading it my first reaction was to respond back but I haven't yet mainly because I keep thinking about what I want and what is fair. What I want is someone to love me for who I am even with my many contradictions and madness at times… And what is fair… to let the engineer find someone who he is able to love and be happy with. I want to say that yes I am that person but I keep thinking that I'm not. Not because I don't care and love the engineer but because I believe he desires someone who is closer to the beauty ideal mainstream society dictates. Now what makes me think that? Simply the way he expresses himself about himself and how he describes the heroine in his stories.

Awkward reunion

Last night was N's little sister's birthday party and boy was it awkward. Most of their family was there and it would seem that all of the cousins got married and procreated and a bunch of kids were running and crawling around everywhere….one of my worst nightmares come true. Okay I can tolerate the marriage thing but did I ever mention that I don't like kids? Well I don't…there is something about being around kids that makes me uncomfortable. The worst part of the night was when Vero told me that having kids was a part of growing up. I wish I could have told her that's not true…being mature and responsible is a part of growing up…not having sex and conceiving an offspring. Even though I can tolerate the marriage thing it's still sad to see couples that are obviously unhappy together…socializing in public…if I wanted to be a marriage counselor I would have become one…so I don't want to try to resolve or deal with couples' communication issues at parties… So instead of starting an argument I left the party, the only problem was that my mother thought it was a rude thing to do…not to stay for the whole party… It would seem I can't ever win with my mother because I know she would have disapproved if I would have disagreed with anyone at the party but yet it was rude of me not to stay.

But before I left I had a few awkward moments with one of my dad's friends. I don't know what I do to give the impression that I want my dad's friends to hit on me…it's like I have a stamp across my forehead that says please fuck me. And all I have to say is GROSS!!! No offends but knowing my dad or being his friend isn't appealing to me…it's kind of creepy and yes you can account that to Senor Yanes…so been there, done that…and never again will I walk that path….However unsettling I find it that my dad's friends flirt with me it's nowhere near how disturbing it is when they do it in front of my dad…..again GROSS!!!

The Return of the Bookworm Zombie

Okay these past couple of days I've been getting a bit more sleep, meaning that the zombie part of me died but unfortunately I underestimated the power of caffeine. Yesterday I thought I would treat myself to a fabulous intoxicating vanilla latte and to shake things up from a different big chain coffee shop. As heavenly as the vanilla latte was I regret drinking it. Why you may ask if I'm such a vanilla latte addict…simply because I couldn't sleep a wink. Sleepless nights are horrendous for me, they feel like I'm confessing all my darkest secrets and being punished for every last one of them. I know that sounds a little dramatic but I can't help thinking of the reasons, motives, drives that underlie my behavior especially when it comes to my emotional/sexual life. I can't help but wonder how different my relationship with men would be if Senor Yanes (sorry I can't come up with anything for him) wouldn't had betrayed my trust while being my confidant and mentor and if instead of feeling violated, dirty, worthless, and like a common whore after having sex for the first time I would have felt some degree of pleasure. Or if I was certain that my next door neighbor didn't sexually molest me when I was a child even though I was and still am an overprotected girl. Or if I was never told over and over again that I am pretty but if I was thinner I would be beautiful or if I wouldn't have been told that everything is my fault for most of my life.

And after all that my mind starts to wonder why I tend to be impulsive when it comes to my sexual behavior… I have kissed total strangers and even had sex with one or two of them. And the haunting fact I have never had sex with someone I cared for. So it makes me wonder why I freeze up when I feel anything for anyone. With the poet I was unable to love him as myself…I needed that shield of anonymity to be passionate, sexual, flirty, sensual, playful, alluring. With the engineer it was the same thing...the only difference was that the poet gave a chance to be myself…it would seem that the engineer prefers not to know who I am. Anyways with the vampire…or creature of the night…well that wasn't a relationship, it was just an impulsive stupid incident. With the guy from LA, I was myself but he annoyed me by telling me that I should think more like a girl….and here I thought I did because it has become clear to me that I fail to think like the stereotypical guy or any guy by that matter….Okay fine, the main reason why things didn't work out with that guy was because of the way he asked me to be his girlfriend…he asked me if I wanted to be his property… I'll save my comments and insults on that one… after I said no; he processed to act in a childish manner. With my childhood crush, I am myself and that is the problem…there is no way I could have hidden myself in this case, especially given where and when I met him, and that's why I am afraid of saying a word to him (I know how sad and a bit pathetic). Moving on, in the case of the mystery man, I did hide from him for a long time until I felt I had no choice, that if I didn't let him see me, I would lose him…and that's when I started to feel vulnerable and my obsession to know something real about him began. It was almost like if I knew something I wouldn't feel so afraid and vulnerable. Now the question of why I didn't want to lose him, well the obvious answer is: I didn't want to lose that feeling of being desired by someone.

And then my mind wonders through the many years of my life that are blurry for one reason or another.

So you see why I need something else other than my thoughts occupying my time. Usually when I can't sleep I talk to random people online but since I haven't been in a talkative mood or even in a cheerful mood by that matter, I have 86 that pattern of behavior for the time being. So in order to occupy myself or at least try to…I've been reading. Tonight's book is Arousal: The Secret Logic of Sexual Fantasies by Dr. Michael J. Bader. Dr. Bader's book didn't only entertain me for night but he also made me question myself in some uncomfortable but necessary ways. I think the most interesting thing was how he described master/slave relationships being a fantasy in itself since the master acts in an entirely selfish and ruthless manner without any real negative consequences. Also I found the following quotes interesting and thought provoking but alas I'm too tired to explain why I found them interesting…

The master and slave provide each other with a special kind of attention and recognition that counteracts an internal sense of being unimportant, invisible, and without value.

For the master, the slave's devotion is evidence that he or she is important, the center of the slave's world. For the slave, the master's attention—even if this attention involves figuring out the precise manner in which pain and degradation are to be inflicted—makes the slave feel that he or she is important enough for the master to want to control or hurt. People prefer to be the object of negative attention rather than be invisible. In the master/slave relationship, in whatever form it is constructed, an intense bond between the two parties counteracts feelings of insignificance and loneliness.

Venomous N

Tonight I realized that no matter how much time has passed some…well many… childhood issues still haunt me. If there is one person in this world that I truly can't stand its N. It's not her fault really. It has nothing to do with the way she is…okay maybe it does have to do with the way she is…a little. It's just that whenever someone tells me how nice and awesome she is…I want to scream and slap that person with a dose of reality…. Okay a little background on N and I: We grew up together, she was not my best friend but our parents use to belong to the same organization so that meant they would socialize lot together…dinner parties, birthday parties, coffee, camping, dancing….and so on. So N and I would spend a lot of time together…meaning I had the pleasure of knowing the real N…not that sweet, charming, delightful, attentive girl…but the lying, conniving, cold, calculating, pretentious, shrew. You might think I'm being a bit harsh but to me the girl is toxic. She has the ability to seem charming and perfect but if you let your guard down she'll stab you in the back… okay maybe you don't even have to let your guard down, just not be listening mean while she destroys your reputation…she is or at least was the ideal mean girl…

On top of that my mother would always compare me to N; I had to always be better than her. I had to be more proper, ladylike, respectable, amiable, successful, ambitious, grand and cordial, determine, recognized, intelligent, and so on than N. And if I wasn't better than N, I just wasn't trying hard enough. But even if I was better than N…it was never good enough for my mother….she (my mother) has always resented the fact that I'm not the social butterfly that she is and that N seems to be…. My mother even thinks I have a phobia of people…well to an extent I do but it has to do with crowds and market places/malls…but that's a different story… I do like to socialize it's just that I don't want to talk about fashion trends, beauty products, celebrities, and gossip…in other words of things that don't matter to me and that I find boring…

Okay so what brought on the memories of N; one of brothers has been talking to N and all I hear about is how great N is, how much she has changed, that is such a great person compare to the girl my brother has been obsessed with….all because he got into an argument with her…but all I have been hearing about is N this and N that…and its driving me up the wall….and the fact that N invited me to her sister's birthday party.

Zombie Girl dies

These past couple of days I've been getting a bit more sleep but still not enough it would seem since today I knocked out. I heard my alarm clock, I got up, got ready, had breakfast, and then I sat down to watch the news before leaving and I knocked out. So today was not as productive as I would have liked but the good news is that the zombie girl in me died….

Well in the spirit of the bookworm zombie I was doing some late night reading last night. I was reading Male Sexuality: Why Women Don't Understand It—And Men Don't Either by Dr. Michael Bader and let me just say that I feel like a fool to a certain extent and on my defense I was never notify of the boundaries and the kind of the relationship it was suppose to be.

You may be wondering what the hell I'm talking about...well Dr. Bader talks about his patient Joe who often went online to masturbate whenever his wife was gone or asleep and he would develop sexual relationships with women always using a pseudonym. Okay so far Joe is like the average guy I chat with online…yes I know that I'm assuming that some of them are married or have girlfriends...but I think that the majority of them are just lonely or bored…. But getting back to Joe here; it was crucial for him that cybersex would be interactive since only then could he feel he that he wasn't alone…that he was able to relate to someone, even if it meant through his sexual desires. Yet immediately after he reached an orgasm he would lose complete interest in the person or connection. So far Joe's behavior seems familiar and interesting but Dr. Bader also refers to a patient that I found far more interesting "David". Now he would require the anonymity of the Internet and the fictitious quality of the transient relationships he found there in order to feel safe enough to express his innermost fantasies. He also required the realness of having a conversation with an actual person to counteract his detached and depressive baseline mood. He needed it to be real and yet not real.

Okay so how or why do I find this interesting…well because I don't think it's not unique to male sexuality…and of course because it reminds me somewhat of the mystery man….mainly because of the secrecy/privacy/mystery behind the mystery man…if in truth the mystery man is anything like these men…I wish he would have specify the boundaries so I would have never developed any kind of feelings toward him. But more than that I wish the moment in which the mystery man became real to me had never happened. For many years the mystery man was a peculiar man who had brief phone conversation with me and then suddenly he became my obsession. How or why…honestly I don't know…

On another topic: Last Saturday I had a long conversation with the engineer (over text) and I'm still processing it but the gist of it is that I am the bad guy for making him feel invisible, for hurting his feelings, for betraying his trust, for thinking about myself, for not caring, for not listening to him, for abandoning him, and the list goes on. And sadly he never wants to step foot in San Francisco again…what a shame since San Francisco truly is a beautiful city.

Yet on another topic: I had an eye exam yesterday and reading with not enough light has finally gotten to me it would seem….okay so maybe that has nothing to do with it. Okay when I was around thirteen I was prescribed glasses but being the ill-manner, annoying, and immature teenager…or a brat…I asked my doctor if I had to wear them all the time and he said, "no, only when you feel your eyes getting tired." I took that too liberally…in other words I barely have ever used my glasses. I think the only times I have made the effort to use them has been to make a fashion statement. Otherwise, I feel silly wearing my glasses because I feel I can see the same with or without them that is until yesterday. I already knew that my right eye was a bit weaker than my left eye but I've never noticed that very small letters look blurry when I see them only with my right eye. Great, just great; that means I have to use my glasses more often. True my glasses are cute and they help me pull off the naughty librarian better but I can't help feeling like it's a sign that I'm getting old...

Bookworm zombie

Once again I had trouble sleeping because my mind tends to run wild especially when everything around me becomes quiet. So last night I was reading Erotic Interludes: Tales Told by Women Edited by Lonnie Barbach and here is something I found interesting:

For women, the emotional relationship between two people, the love, trust, familiarity, and caring, account for making real-life sexual experiences particularly good. However, in erotic fiction, passion is often generated by the mysterious partner, the one who offers no security, a partner who cannot be totally owned. The unavailable partner becomes more exciting, more compelling, because the relationship cannot be played out completely.

The mystery man is often the strong silent type who elicits passion by allowing the woman to maintain her fantasy projection while challenging her to continue to probe his undisclosed depths.

Situations in which the woman does not feel secure in her partner's love, in which she cannot control her lover's responses to her, promote a chronic state of disequilibrium. She has no place to rest or relax. She must always be ready to react, jump in, protect herself. And this state of heightened readiness, this emotional activation, when directed toward the erotic, creates a high degree of passion and erotic response (103-4).

After I read that I started thinking that the mystery man is a genius. Why? Simply because he has been able to find a way to be the perfect or ideal character in an erotica since he has been able to keep me in a state of longing, confusion, excitement, pleasure, and euphoria for so long.

And here is something else that I found interesting since its sort of how I feel…

From An American in Paris by Kim Chernin:

[I] have come back with my pride and arrogance as a lover stripped away, I have let myself be broken in heart during these years and now I can't even say I believe in love any more, certainly not in that kind which roars and breaks into flame and feels fated to transform you and ends badly and drags you down into the most carefully hidden secrets of your past and leaves you there, howling in darkness, to work it out on your own.

And I need to find a way to start getting more sleep or else I'm really going to start looking like a zombie…well at least I'll be one beautiful undead girl...

Sleepless night

Last night was another sleepless night. I stayed up most of the night thinking of how special the engineer made me feel in reality since he would pay attention to everything I said that was important to me, no matter how silly it may have seem. It would seem that my mind can't help but punish me for all the things I that I took for granted. For example, both Alice in Wonderland (the Disney movie) and Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll have a special place in my heart; and I've always wanted to have a tea party to celebrate my guests' and my un-birthday at Golden Gate Park and the engineer remember that. And once he sent me an un-birthday card…how sweet… and how perfect. Another time I told the engineer that I have a thing for hands (well for fingers) and what did he do…he drew his hands for me. And when I expressed my admiration for Flamenco dancers because of the power and sensuality they embody and exude, he gave me castanuelas so I could dance Flamenco. Anyone who knows me, knows that I love Halloween and Friday the 13^th s, so every Halloween and Friday the 13^th the engineer would encourage my enthusiasm instead of thinking I was weird. And I remembered all those nights when we would talk for hours about the most random things and I would just babble on and it wouldn't matter to him. But I think what I am going to miss most is the moon game. I have never gotten a chance to play the moon game with any one for so long since everyone gets bored or ends up thinking it's silly but I love it and could go on for hours playing that game. And the list goes on and on…

In order not to spend the night thinking of all the things I did wrong and how stupid I was if I made the engineer feel like he didn't matter to me, I decided to read The Erotic Spirit: An Anthology of Poems of Sensuality, Love, and Longing. You might think I am beyond weird or a true masochistic for reading about love and longing in a time when I feel disappointed in me for not realizing what it means to be loved. Okay so here are some things that struck me while reading:

"Denis de Rougemont, in Love in the Western World, divides love into two types: "Christian love," a love between equals concluding in a marriage for the purpose of procreation; and eros, a love between "unequal" persons, rooted in passion, rejecting marriage, and growing ever more passionate through separation of the lovers."

Eros seizes and shakes my very soul

like the wind on the mountain

shaking ancient oaks.

-Sappho (6th century BCE)

He is almost a god, a man besides you,

enthralled by your talk, by your laughter.

Watching makes my heart beat fast

because, seeing little, I imagine much.

You put a fire in my cheeks.

Speech won't come. My ears ring.

Blind to all others, I sweat and I stammer.

I am a trembling thing, like grass,

an inch from dying.

So poor I've nothing to lose, I must gamble…

-Sappho (6^th century BCE)

Untitled

Usually I'm not concern if what I write offends or insults or hurts anyone because what I write is only one side of the story (MINE) and at that specific moment. But today I realize that maybe I should stick to writing when I am in need save it and days after re-read it and then decide if I want to post it. It never crossed my mind to be careful what I write about because I thought come on who would read this…when all it really is: a way to regroup my crazy, illogical, irrational, emotional, inconsistent thoughts. Maybe I should come up with a disclaimer of some sort.

New Year’s Eve

All I have to say is that the whole night I was feeling hot and bothered and didn't know where to turn and hide my blushing face.

I went to my friend's party or get together since it was a small gathering of close friends where both of my brothers were. The whole night was good until we started playing Apples to Apples. Well there is nothing wrong with the game, it was really fun. Now what happened to make me blush was that one of my friend's friends sat on the floor across from me and she was wearing a very short black dress with white panties. It was so hard to contain my desire to lick every inch of her legs up to her panties, pull her panties down with my teeth and enjoy her. I couldn't help but blush and tried my best not to look at her. I think what made it harder was knowing that my brothers can't ever know that I tend to fancy members of my own sex from time to time. It's not that I am ashamed of it; on the contrary whenever someone has asked me about my sexuality I have either answered bisexual, Heteroflexible, or bi-curious (feels or shows some curiosity in a relationship or sexual activity with someone of the same sex…the term bi-curious implies that the individual has had no sexual experience—or very little—of that sort, but may continue to self-identify as bi-curious if they do not feel they have adequately explored these feelings). Even though my parents and brothers are very liberal and open-minded and accepting in regards to other people's sexuality, race, background, religion, and even political views…but when it comes to my sexual ordination or even my sexuality in general it's a touchy subject…no its more of a taboo subject…since no one, including myself is allow to talk about it. So everyone just pretends that I am asexual which is fine with me.

A few days ago

Sometime in December:

I have lost the sense of time, so I'm not completely sure what night or morning the following happen:

About a month ago I started talking to this guy who claimed to be a master or Dom and he offer his services to properly train me as a slave. Okay I started talking to this guy since lately I have been even more curious about sadomasochism, fetishism, urolagnia, bondage, dominance and submission and the BDSM lifestyle in general and he provided me with another perspective or sample of a person who practices or who has BDSM beliefs. Everything seemed to be going fine until I told him that the mystery man was older than I was and this guy threw a hissy fit. He told me that I was utterly disgusting to him and that people like me deserve to die. Wow. I was speechless. I still don't understand what's wrong with the fact that the mystery man is older than I am.

Okay fast-forward to a few days ago: This same guy was telling me that I have a tendency to be disrespectful. Call me crazy but I don't believe someone who wishes I were dead because I don't see an issue with there being a substantial age gap in a relationship is worthy of my respect. So I'm sorry if I have a tendency to be rude, insolent, ill-temper, and petulant among other things to this guy.