Nothing quite like a case of the maternal crabs.

So my mother and Jaye’s mom were supposed to come and visit with my nephew this week. I’ve been planning for about a month, getting stuff ready for people. They’ve never seen the new place we’re in. I bought my mom and nephew the plane tickets. Jaye’s mom was the one who kept asking what we were doing this summer. I felt obligated to create some kind of vacationy happening for her. That’s why I invited my mom also, who I have an awkward relationship with anyway. Over the last two months, Jaye’s mom’s been hemming and hawing about committing. I mean she was at first, but once I planned it, she sounded like, “Oh sure, sounds great!” but no exact date of arrival. So last night I texted her about when her plane was getting in and she said that she couldn’t make it, gave me a bunch of reasons why she couldn’t make it… Drs appointments that sounded routine or those that could wait until she got back. She’s done this before, so while I was pretty irked, I’m not surprised. I’m not inviting her to shit ever again. Also, this morning my mother called me crying and said she couldn’t come because she has SCABIES. ..yeah. Scabies. I actually laughed into the phone. She’s 70. She has no idea how she got them. I believe her.. She had to look up what scabies were. I have so many last minute people coming to the house first thing in the morning to prepare for their arrival. Today we had the window washers, the tv guy, a handyman. Tomorrow we’ll have a painter, the cleaning people, and the gardener come at 8 fucking am because my mom’s plane comes in a 10am. Yesterday, I bought a tree for the atrium. Yeah. A fucking tree. Not one of them little ficus trees, neither. Seriously, I want to go to the airport tomorrow morning, run out onto the tarmac, and shake my fist at my mother’s incoming plane and scream, “SCABIES YOU MOTHER FUCKER< SCABIES!!” I told my mother to mail one of her towels to Jaye’s mom so that maybe she can get the scabies too. I’m so upset. Emotional whirlwind right now. *drinks lots of beer*


It’s only a small burn. It’ll heal soon; don’t worry.

Every once in a while I get to the point where I feel I need to check out a new game. I’ve stuck with IMVU for this long for a number of reasons, but the main ones are that I don’t venture off into new territory easily, and IMVU is better-looking than some of the others I’ve checked out.

I’m most focused on quality, really. I want to go where I’m sure I’m not going to be talking to kids. Sure, there’s the whole thing about not wanting to accidentally expose them to sex talk, and the like, but I’m also realizing that the new generation of social gamers are lying and manipulative bastards. I’m not interested in talking to a spoiled little shit who is focused on adult behavior for shock value, emo cutting, and making me think they are some kind of rockstar because they believe it makes them appear badass.

I remember being in high school. I know that being immersed in that is your whole world and you don’t know any different. You don’t realize that adults don’t really act that way, and if they do they have some serious issues they need to take up with their psychologist. Hey, I’m not looking to know your entire real life, nor do I really need to know much outside your online persona, but there comes a time where you just feel like you’re hearing the same old story. Try mixing some of your real life into your fantasy world and extend yourself. Eventually, you’ll be 40 and realize that playing people online in a lame attempt to get instant love and adoration isn’t going to work for you. This is what happens when you’ve been online since you were ten. Shame on your parents.

I knew that something was wrong with my choice in online bfs when I heard him on Skype, talking to a bunch of other (supposedly) newly 20-somethings about how he was so popular in high school for juvenile behavior and how his mom still doesn’t understand him because she nags him to get a job. I know, I know. My bad. I’ve learned; and now that the emotion is gone from the entire thing, the humiliation set in right nice, so I’ve learned my lesson.

What do they say? Dating some 20 years younger than you isn’t cool. It just means you were putting up with the same shit you were putting up with 20 years ago. I think that’s going to be my new mantra. Maybe I’ll just say I was in it for the sex. Takes the sting out of it a little.

So, since social behavior is where I have to focus hardest, I don’t like games that have a steep learning curve with too many buttons. I know that makes me sound like a moron, but I can’t focus on more than one thing at a time. I’m too aware of myself in front of people to feel good about experimenting with a wonky avatar and a million new controls.

SecondLife seems awkward and boxy. Everyone loves it, but I’m not exactly sure why. I’m awkward and boxy in real life, and I’d rather not transfer that over to my fantasy world. I’m looking into RedLight, but I’m not sure how much gay there is there. I saw lesbo stuff there, but that’s the wrong side of the spectrum. I’ll have to read some reviews and see what people say. Like I said, I’m looking for quality, and I’m hoping that by heading into the adult arena I end up finding people that can spell and who are mature enough to know how to get a credit card as opposed to finding the standard back-o’-the-porno-shop type of guy.


Oh. And it’s my birthday ^ ^ Yay me.



Rock, paper, scissors…

I’ve been thinking that maybe I should get a part-time job working with my hands. Like maybe I could get a job working at one of those small organic gardening places. I could water stuff, and plant stuff, maybe just dig holes and move dirt from one pile to the other pile. Whatever it is they do. I just need to get my hands into the dirt. I want to work hard and create something. I’d like to get paid to do it, just so that I can have a moment of pride for what I did for the money rather than pride that I made some money. I don’t usually make a lot of money, but I’m at the crux where I can if I go a direction I’m not interested in traveling.

I worry.

I should read more.


See what happens when I don’t work with my hands? Adrien is a friend. …still, I think.



Go ahead. Prove you’re human. I dare you.


Personally, I think they’re being too selective when it comes to membership.

Yes, of course. This is hello.

Lots of days, I feel like this:

Bjork vs Puff Daddy

Some days are so hard, it’s either laugh or cry. I’d rather laugh.

I’ve always said I’d rather laugh, but if I really think about it, it’s kind of a cheat statement. Since I have such a hard time crying (I mean really crying, more than just a mist-over and sniffle.) It’s like saying “You’re my favorite dad.”, when you only have one (unless you have two dads, in which case you need to go to your room and reconsider your manipulative tactics.)

It would be more appropriate to say that I’d rather laugh than stare aimlessly in an outwardly blank panic, but that’s hardly as inspirational.