Relationships

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And Jill Came Tumbling After

Published May 3, 2014 by Carmen Lamiarum

I haven’t written anything since Halloween last year. So pathetic. I hardly ever write in my journal anymore either. It’s only at the request of a friend that I plan to eventually hand write something this weekend. Letters have been promised and never delivered. Paper-filled notebooks sit in stacks by my computer, staring blankly. Yes, a pun.

So many things have happened. The world has turned upside down and right side up and upside down again. I’ve been on the edge of the cliff and back. Climbed to the highest cloud only to fall right through it. Has it really been only seven months? The definition of life itself can change so entirely in that short of a time frame? I am baffled.

I’ll gloss over what I can as quickly as possible. It is not my intention today to write a novel.

In November I became sick to the point of hospitalization, coinciding almost perfectly with the arrival of out of town family. The seemable lack of concern over my health was disheartening to me and frustrating to my spouse, but nevertheless, I recovered well enough shortly after their departure.

December was cold, I guess. And tense. Christmas was a quiet affair, as we unwrapped presents by the tree, just the two of us, before heading out for our traditional Christmas Day Chinese Buffet meal. At this point we had a short term roommate. A good friend of both of ours. Having him around was nice, as I enjoyed the comfort of having someone else in the house without the intrusiveness of having someone in the room constantly. My partner would go to work, I would focus on my failing business, and our roommate would sit in his room playing video games.

January was almost the end of everything. My business venture was officially a flop, having been promised a multitude of commissions, none of which actually panned out. The cold was keeping me constantly indoors, and my spouse was getting more at wits end with my lack of job by the day, and understandably so. While he simply wished for me to keep my word and help our family, I was more focused on finding a position that would make me happy. Something I could be proud of. In today’s society, I guess there’s no room for that. Eventually the D word was spoken, and I felt the weight of the world come crashing down on my head.

It’s unfair to sum up January to that end. Especially when that’s right about the time everything changed for the better. It was in January, toward the end, that everything came to a head and life as I knew it was completely redefined. You see, my partner had begun going to therapy. I had a new therapist as well, but was still not on any medication, as my previous doctor closed her practice last July. I attended a therapy session with my partner and his therapist in a last ditch effort to save whatever we had left. She recommended me to a new doctor, and everything took off like a rocket.

Suddenly I had a new doctor that I really liked, who re-diagnosed me and put me on medications that have worked miracles. Within days of that occurrence, I managed to get in contact with the owner of a local vape store, and was offered the job of a lifetime. One of my best friends and the girlfriend of my roommate moved in part time to be with him, which offered a vast amount of support and happiness. It was surreal that within the course of less than a week, everything had gone from so so so bad to so so so good. I was happy. My partner was happy. And our marriage was on the up and up.

February, everything was good. Valentine’s Day was subtle, but sweet. I still have the card he gave me. It’s a poodle sitting on a pile of bones and says, “The nice little things you do really stack up. Thank you.” He included a little love letter that I keep as a daily reminder of when he had faith in us again.

March, everything was even better. I was absolutely in love with my job, my medications were proving to have lasting positive effects, and we were really moving forward as a couple. I believe to heights we have never attained before.

April was beautiful. Finally, the warmth of spring was here, making me even more happy than I already was. I saw¬†that the dogwood sapling we bought at the festival last year had made it through it’s first winter, and it felt symbolic of the ups and downs that had finally brought my spouse and I to the loving place we are now. As a birthday gift to my partner, we took a trip to Tybee Island for a weekend, renting a beautiful little beach cottage and all in all having a wonderful romantic time together (except for the shark. But that’s a different story.)

It’s now 11:14PM, May 3rd. I was fired yesterday. I’ve never been fired from a job before, and it was quite a shocking experience. I personally believe that my termination was due to pre-planned manipulation and a simple miscommunication. I won’t go into the details of it here. All I will say is that I feel hurt, betrayed, angry, sad…and what’s a more polite way to say “screwed over”? My partner is being exceptionally sympathetic, empathetic (two different things), and seems just as shocked and hurt as I am. My anxiety still lingers in the back of my mind saying, “Find a job as fast as you can so things will stay good!” My depression says, “You’ll never find another job that makes you as happy as that one did. You’re doomed to a miserable dead end career.” I’m trying hard not to listen to those thoughts. I think I might try to get out of town for a little bit, just to clear my head. Then I guess it’s back to the drawing board. My spouse has two rather large ideas/suggestions that might resolve the issue of my employment. Seeing as I suddenly have my weekend free, he and I will take that time to discuss our options.

And I’ve asked my blog host site to remind me to post something at least once a week. I’m going to try my best not to do this again. I need to write when things are bad AND when they’re good.

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Girlfriends

Published June 11, 2013 by Carmen Lamiarum

I’m one of those girls who makes friends with guys much easier than with girls. While I have friends that are girls, I really only hang out with one chick on a semi-regular basis, and honestly, I sometimes feel like we don’t have that much in common. I always like to think that she leads the life I would have led if I hadn’t chosen to put family before an artistic career. But recently I’ve been hanging out with a new friend. A chick friend. Actually, the girlfriend of one of my best guy friends. And we’re like two peas in a pod. It’s pretty awesome. We always have stuff to talk about (even though, like everyone else, she often remarks that I’m too quiet. lol.) and we enjoy a lot of the same things. Window shopping, travel, shoes, bowling, silly stories…we just seem to get along really well and I greatly enjoy her company.

Anyway, her man is out of town for some months, and she’s living with her family until he gets back and they can house shop together. Seeing that we’re both interested in eating paleo, working out, etc. I proposed she move in with my partner and I until his return. We could go to the gym together and meal plan together and all kinds of stuff. Motivate each other, ya know? Girl power and all that jazz. She seems to think it’s an awesome idea. So…yeah. Assuming nothing crazy happens, I’ll have a new roomie in a couple weeks. I’m seriously excited about this, which is why I’m taking the time to write about it. She’s just so laid back and chill, while still being down for an adventure. All my other friends seem to like her a lot too. And it would just be nice to be able to say I have girlfriends (plural).

In other news, I bowled my best game ever last night. Only a 120, but I feel like I’m starting to suck less. Oh, and I’ve lost almost 10 pounds on the paleo diet so far. YAY!

A Conversation With My Anxiety

Published May 29, 2013 by Carmen Lamiarum

The first time I ever saw a therapist he told me to make a list of what my negative/anxious thoughts were, then to write down what I knew reality to be next to them. Today my new therapist told me to do something similar. She wanted me to write out a conversation with my anxiety. Address it as if it were a different person. So while it might seem totally silly to you, this blog post is for my “homework”.

Anxiety: You’re not going to clean anything today.

Me: Yeah I am. It’s part of my schedule. I need to clean.

A: But you’re so exhausted. And your back and arms and legs hurt, right? Plus, you can’t even develop a coherent thought, let alone bring order to an entire house.

M: I want to do it. S****** will be proud of me if I clean up everything.

A: Or you could treat yourself to another episode of your show while lying across the couch. Spare yourself the disappointment when no one notices your efforts.

M: My efforts will be noticed. And appreciated.

A: Doubtful. Here, why don’t I make your head cloudy and fill it with white noise? You’re thinking too much.

M: But I can’t function like that.

A: That’s the point, idiot.

M: I need to do that beserker mode thing. 20 seconds of get off your ass and just do it.

A: But you’re not going to.

M: If I say it three times it’ll be more likely to happen.

A: You’re not going to do it. You’re not going to do it. You’re not going to do it. There. Enjoy loserdom.

This whole thing seems ridiculous. Having a conversation with my anxiety seems staged and silly, because I don’t really have…er…I kinda don’t have conversations with myself like that. It’s less of a thought process and more like…like I tell myself I’m going to do something (like clean up the entire house) and suddenly I feel exhausted and tense and down on myself and…words. Even now I can’t develop a clear thought. I don’t know how to explain it. I know I should just get off my ass and get to work, but there’s always some reason not to. I’m tired. I’m in pain. My head is fuzzy and I can’t think clearly. There’s no point. No one will notice/care.

I don’t even want to post this. I’m going to because I took the time to write it. But I know a few critical minds who will scoff at me. I don’t even want to think about what they will be saying/thinking about me. I’m starting to panic just imagining it.

Anxiety: 1 billion

Me: 0

I need a cigarette.

Well, We’re Outta Cake!

Published April 24, 2013 by Carmen Lamiarum

So dinner was actually a success. I decided last minute to cook the veal more like it was bacon (in a skillet) cause it was so thin. Put a little seasoning on there, and it turned out just fine. And of course, I baked the broccoli in some coconut oil and balsamic vinegar, which I’ve done loads of times before, so that turned out well also. And sauteed some spinach in minced garlic. All in all a fine paleo meal. The cuppy cake “frosting” turned out more like chocolate lava, so I injected some into the cupcakes, and then poured some more over the top, making them chocolate lava cakes. My partner at least seemed to love them. So…yeah. I didn’t ruin anything. I improvised and it still turned out fine.

Couple other things I wanted to go over real quick. I had my first therapy session with my new therapist today. She’s so awesome. While I was pretty nervous/anxious about the whole thing, it turned out to be unlike every other therapist session I’ve had. For one thing, she actually told me a little about herself, which was pretty cool. All the therapists I’ve had in the past have been very strict about not saying hello if they see me in public (she said she would) and not sharing personal information. Maintaining that strictly business relationship. She doesn’t seem to be like that, which makes it easier to talk about me because I feel like I at least sort of know the person I’m talking to. We also went for a walk. I guess she gauged that my discomfort was partially caused by the new location, so we went outside, I had a cigarette, and we just walked around through the trees for a little bit. It was great. I think what she’s trying to do is create a physical comfort zone for me out of her office and the surrounding area so that my anxiety will go down enough for us to tackle some of my past traumas. It’s nice to feel like the person I’m working with is actually proactive in helping me. Not just sitting there nodding their head and trying not to doze off, ya know? Anyway, I really like her and I think we’ll be able to work well together in the future.

The other thing I wanted to talk about was bowling. Yes…bowling. I’ve picked it up. A couple weekends ago, my partner said he wanted to do something more active than just sitting around watching movies and smoking hookah, and by some happy chance, we found ourselves walking into the local bowling alley. Two weeks later and I have my own (purple) bowling shoes, a (purple) bowling bag, a (purple) wrist brace (cause I spin to the left and need to learn to keep my wrist straight), and I’m waiting for my super awesome bowling ball to arrive. Check it out.

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I figure…cosmic bowling…cosmic bowling ball. Isn’t it prettyful? I’m still pretty bad at the game in general, but I’m slowly learning how to control my spin (which I need to practice more. With the brace on I bowl pretty straight, resulting in a lot of splits) and aim and everything. I’m seeing a bit of improvement. I’ve almost doubled my initial game average in just two weeks. Hopefully my scores continue to get higher and I can actually get good at this. I really enjoy it, and more than once I’ve bowled until my wrist was sore. It also seems to be one of those things that most of my friends enjoy as well, so it’s prompting me to be a little more social and do something other than just sit around at my house. So…yay!

Now I have to go clean another floor of the house. My goal is to do one floor a day, minus the weekends. And with all sorts of company arriving Saturday (if you know me IRL and wanna come, you’re invited of course. We’re going to float a keg for my partner’s birthday celebration.) the house needs to be spotless. Oh! I also need to come up with a bunch of paleo “horse doovers” for snacks and stuff. Fun times.

Cake Or Death!

Published April 24, 2013 by Carmen Lamiarum

“Little red cookbook! Little red cookbook!” Hehehe…sorry.

Today I said something to my spouse that I often say when I’m bored or stressed out. “I want some cake.” You know what he said to me? He said he’s training his brain to make himself nauseous at the idea of cakes or sweets of any kind. Why? Because we’ve gone paleo, and for some fucked up reason he seems to think that means no yummy sweets.

Well, I’ll show him!

Today is actually his birthday, and I’ll be using this recipe http://www.crossfitpulse.com/chocolate-paleo-cupcakes-with-icing/ to surprise him with paleo birthday cuppy cakes. And he’s going to love them. Or else.

Actually, I’m in a total panic over my partner’s birthday. He’s the big 3-0 today, and while I think I got it right with the gifts, it’s the cooking and cleaning I’m worried about. I cleaned up the house really well, spending most of the night with a broom and a mop and a scrub brush. But he’s much more tidy than I am, so I only hope it meets his expectations. Or that at the very least he will appreciate the effort. Heh. And then there’s the food…

There are a few dishes that I’m pretty good at preparing. But when it comes to just making things up on the fly or making something from scratch, I tend to bring about chaos and destruction in the kitchen. (For example, I once put chopped up potatoes in a blender, thinking it would be a smarter way to mash them…not my first kitchen fire…) Tonight not only am I making paleo cuppy cakes from scratch, but I’m also kinda winging it with dinner. We’re having veal. I’ve never cooked veal. I’ve never even tasted veal. But I have a great baked chicken recipe that’s super easy to make. So I’ll be substituting veal cutlets instead, and praying to the cooking gods that I don’t end up driving us to Steak and Shake for my spouse’s birthday dinner.

You might think it’s no big deal and isn’t that difficult of a thing to manage. You know, cooking and cleaning. But I don’t have a very domestic background. In fact, my first website was called domestication fail. So…yeah, I’m pretty bad at this kinda stuff.

Wish me luck!

Dove Defines Beauty? I Think Not!

Published April 17, 2013 by Carmen Lamiarum

Fuck society’s standards. That’s really what this post is about, if you opt not to read the whole thing.

I watched this clip last night.

My initial reaction was happy tears. I even went as far as to share it with a friend and remark on how touching it was.

Then I watched it again today. And I got sort of pissed about it.¬†Every single one of the people featured are already “beautiful” by the standards of society. They’re all relatively young, thin (Oh my god, just go count the times they use the word thin as a positive adjective. Also note that every time they say “fat” it has a negative connotation.), and just a picture of what society deems is acceptable. I get that the point is that we’re all our own worst critics, but this commercial isn’t actually portraying the beauty of diversity at all. There’s one male, and we don’t get to see anything about him. There’s one Asian woman who doesn’t even get to speak. And the two African American women are only shown shit-talking themselves. All the “featured” people are white skinny women! Is Dove trying to “inspire” us to strive for blonde hair and blue eyes? Sounds a little…I dunno. Racist? Sexist? Both?

I wish this video was being plastered all over facebook instead. It might not be as initially touching, but the message at the end is far more honest, I think. Don’t let the title fool you. This is a great clip. (If you don’t/can’t watch it, I quoted the ending under the video.)

“But the important thing is, at the end of the day, I don’t owe the world a thin body in exchange for their acknowledgement and approval. I’m not magically a better and more worthy person because my pants size is smaller. If someone is going to make a contingency for love and acceptance based on my weight, then they belong with all that toxic sludge I was eating a few years ago…in the trash.”

So now it’s time for me to do something I don’t want to do. I’m gonna lay down the facts.

I’m nearing 27 years old, and I’m 5’6″. I weigh somewhere around 185lbs. I’m chubby! I have big boobs and a bigger ass. My hair is black, I have no eyebrows, and there’s a huge scar/birthmark on my lower lip. My teeth aren’t straight. My face breaks out. I don’t have manicured nails. My hair is thin and stringy when I don’t style it.

And beyond a general desire for a healthier life, I am perfectly fucking fine with all of that. Why? Because I’m beautiful. And you are too.

I Was A Bad Kid…

Published April 5, 2013 by Carmen Lamiarum

…but I was good at not getting caught.

So I was skimming other blogs just now, and I saw something really interesting. A blog post this girl had made where she typed out excerpts from her childhood journal and then commented on them. Ballsy. Real ballsy. But then again, her journal was about Anne Frank and birthday parties. Still, I couldn’t resist. I ran upstairs to my little hiding place and busted open my box of childhood journals. I use to write a LOT, so I have two or three dozen of them. I picked up the biggest one, and started to read.

I was a terrible little shit when I was younger. I mean…I was kinda gloating to myself before I started reading. “All these years and I remember what my first entry in this journal is about.” (I thought it was about an argument I was having with my then-girlfriend.) Buuut…I was way wrong. In the first ten pages of my journal I:

  • had some lesbian sex
  • got caught smoking at school
  • skipped detention
  • stole from department stores
  • skipped school/snuck off school property
  • dumped my girlfriend immediately post-sex (because I gave her money for smokes and she didn’t buy them…that was the “argument”.)
  • shot my brother with a BB gun
  • stole my mother’s mail
  • forged a report card
  • smoked weed and dropped acid

In only ten pages! And that was in 2001, so I was…*pause to ask someone else to do the math* 15. I was fucking 15?!

Oi, I bet I was a real fun person to be around at 15. hehehe…

I was always under this impression that though I did a few bad things as a teen, I never gave my parents much trouble. But if these ten pages are any reflection on my childhood…I’m really really sorry, Mom and Dad.

So I guess we’ll get on with it. I really wanna try this reflections thing. Since we kinda skimmed over the first ten pages, I’ll just open the book to a random page. Here we go.

August 2nd, 2002 Page 104

“Happy Birthday to me! I’m 16, finally! YAY!!!

Ok, I’m really sorry I haven’t written anything in awhile, but I think you may have noticed by now that there just isn’t much to write about during the summer. But so far, this vacation has been pretty cool. I swim in the pool every day and I’ve been to the beach three times. I have a great tan. I even got a tanning sticker and now I have a butterfly tan line on my back.

You wouldn’t BELIEVE how many hot girls I’ve seen here! It’s crazy! But even though they’re everywhere, I still miss Hannah.

For my birthday dinner, I finally tried lobster for the first time. (tradition: no lobster until your 16th birthday.) After that, we went to this cool ice cream parlor. I got cheesecake ice cream with raspberries, white chocolate chips, and pralines mixed into it.

While I’ve been here, I bought:

1 CD

1 shirt

1 book

1 glasses case

2 tanning stickers

1 cross stitch pattern

Not to mention about a million things I’ve stolen, including a radio and a pack of cigarettes. (BTW, I’ve had three smokes in the past two days. Ahhh! I’m dying!) I’ll list all the stuff I stole when I get back home. I can’t look at it all here.

Oh, guess what? Cameron got a tattoo! He says he got it for me. Isn’t that sweet? It’s a dragon on his leg. Cool, huh? And I got my navel pierced today! It pinched, but it felt great. I really like the pain of piercings I think. I’ll probably get more, but Mom says, “you can’t until you move out!” Whatever. Like if I get my nipples pierced she’s ever going to know about it.

Love,

Maluenda D’Ravyn”

Oh. My. God.

Mom, I never got my nipples pierced. Promise.

Ok, first off…why the fuck was I calling myself Maluenda D’Ravyn? I don’t even know. I don’t remember that. Silliness. Secondly, how I never got caught stealing anything is beyond me. That I DO remember. I used to carry around huge purses everywhere and just steal shit left and right. I remember I once stole like $200 worth of clothing and my brother got busted stealing a bracelet. I was so terrified they were going to search me too, but nope…never got caught. Still, I learned my lesson either way, and I don’t steal things now. Ever. No, really. I don’t. Cause it’s dumb.

This was also during my lesbian phase. I say phase because that’s what it was. I’m bisexual. Always have been, always will be. Even then I knew I was bisexual. But in public I was identifying as a lesbian. It seemed like there was only one person in my high school who could get away with being openly bisexual and not treated like shit for it. So I felt pressure to “pick a side”. While I had very deep feelings for Cameron at the time, Hannah was there in person. So I was a lesbian for a short while. And apparently a very horny lesbian at that. lol. For the record, Hannah was NOT the girl I was breaking up with at the beginning of this blog. That was a totally different girl.

Was I a lesbian slut?

Either way, I really want some ice cream now.