TMI Tuesday: Get inside my Head

Oh Behave.

oh behave_tmi

This week TMI Tuesday takes its cue from the world of psychology and sociology, which both deal with behavior.

1. Catharsis - What behavior or activity do you do to achieve catharsis.

Weep and Sob, self destruct, sex, rage, etc etc.

2. Self-affirmations was made famous by Saturday Night Live character Stuart Smalley (now Senator Al Franken): “I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and gosh-darn it, people like me.” What self-affirmation do you say/or should you say to yourself?

I don’t self-affirm. I’m not quite at the self actualization part of the pyramid yet. I suppose I should, it might make me a better person, except it’s pretty hard to look in a mirror these days.

3. “I knew it all along.” What did you know all along?

That this is all there was.

4. Daydreaming. About whom or what was your last daydream?

Whom? Naturally it was about Sir. When is it not? Tsk.
What? I was imagining myself in a different country.

5. We all have fears. What fear (real or improbable) have you taken steps against to protect yourself.

I fear being abandoned. Because of this… when I feel people or imagine people pulling away, I tend to shoot first and ask questions later—I usually try to ditch them before they ditch me.

6. Relationship churning–How many on-again off-again relationships have you been in? Why would you say you that you repeat this behavior?

Exactly zero. I don’t play that shit.

Bonus: Self-monitoring is the ability to both observe (or measure) and evaluate one’s behavior. It is an important component in human behavior that aids one to measure their behavioral outcomes against a set of standards. What sort of self-monitoring do you do on a regular basis?

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.

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How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link totmituesdayblog from your website!

Happy TMI Tuesday!

Music Appreciation Monday: You Love me Like a Bull in a China Shop

MaM

 

 

Easy
by: Dragonette

You love me like a bull in a china shop
Why do I stay if one day you’ll break my heart
Ooh its easy, hard as it looks

Ask me how I never get with other guys
Other guys with nicer rides and better style
Ooh easy, hard as it looks

I could be a-doin’ all of this on my own
And thinkin’ for myself, I’d be the only one
It’s easy, hard as it looks

Why’m I waiting up for you late at night
Comin’ in from someplace when it’s almost light
‘Cause its easy, hard as it looks

And I’mma stick it out until it’s time to go
Am I getting sick of this? Oh no no
No it’s never hard as it looks

Yeah I could be a-doin’ all of this on my own
Thinkin’ for myself, I’d be the only one
And its easy, hard as it looks.

Yeah I could find someone who’d never make me blue
‘Cause nobody could ever tear me up like you
And its easy, hard as it looks

But you could break it
If you let time wear away it
So dont mistake it
For something that you’re free to play with

Cause you could break it
If you let time wear away it
So dont mistake it
For something that you’re free to play with

I could be a-doin all of this on my own
Thinkin’ for myself, I’d be the only one
Yeah I could find someone who’d never make me blue
‘Cause nobody could ever tear me up like you

Yeah I could be a-doin all of this on my own
Thinkin’ for myself, I’d be the only one
And I could find someone who’d never make me blue
‘Cause nobody could ever tear me up like you

And its easy, hard as it looks
And its easy, hard as it looks

 

‘Cause Nobody Could Ever Tear Me Up Like You

Sweat.

I am covered in our sweat. It is freezing outside, but here, next to you, wrapped in your scent and your skin, I am heat. I am molten.

Our bodies move together with no room between us, not even enough for a sliver of light to pass by; though the firelight does cast shadows on our moving bodies.

We are naked and glorious beneath the soft glow, stripped on piles of shearling and fleece. There is no sound except for the heavy breathing, the heated whispers, the sound of slick skin sliding against slick skin. My hands wrap around your shoulders and I hold you to me, shuddering beneath you in the near dark.

Every thrust of your hips makes me come alive.

Wherever There’s Smoke, There’ll Soon be Fire

I mark days off my calendar before I live them, letting them drop off like they mean nothing. On my calendar it is already Thursday, the 11th of December, a third of the way through the last month of the year, my first day off in a week and a pay-day to boot. What am I doing on that day I wonder? Languishing in my laziness, letting my aching body rest, eyes closed, listening to music in a bath tub maybe… just letting it all bead off of my shoulders and roll away.  Continue reading

A Lover’s Discourse

I’ve begun re-reading Roland Barthes’ A Lover’s Discourse. In English. Though I do have a beat up old copy in French that I bought at an old and dilapidated but cozy bookstore I used to frequent–my, but they had the best little treasures that would sneak up on you out of nowhere. This is the same place I used to go trolling for vinyl and yellowed love letters that would sell for 5 cents a piece.

When I first read Barthes’ I had not yet experienced what it meant to be a lover or to have a lover. I was cynical, obtuse, and a little immature. Re-reading this book years later I am finding so many tiny and large grains of truth. It is like someone has ripped me open and poured out all of my thoughts on love into this “novel.” I contemplate then… is the experience of love a human experience–I mean, do we all go through the same exact highs and lows, know the same anxieties and fears? Is love a homogeneous experience?

This book raises such questions in me. And at the same time, evokes such deep feelings in me. I find myself devouring each teensy little “definition” over and over again. I am voracious to read these words and feel pangs of recollection and knowing in them. Some I read and my heart aches with a pinpoint of recognition–some errant and passion filled thought that I assumed I was alone in feeling (in the whole wide universe). I have teared up quite a bit while reading this. I thought I’d share a single passage:

 

That most devious of organs.

To speak

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Also, my nail broke today at work. And ever the narcissist/loathing myself greatly, I am embarrassed by how crooked it looks in that picture. Sigh. It also feels kind of raw. So there’s that. /pouting

*I* Ride the Power High

I sit in his lap, facing him, arms draped over his shoulders. Everything is quiet except for the steady breathing between the two of us, our chests rising and falling in time with one another. It is early morning and still dark, pre-dawn. His hands move against me, as mine do to him; I wind my fingers in his hair and hold him tight to me. I rest my face in the crook where his shoulder and neck meet… my favorite place to bury my face in him, to smell his scent, to rest my cheek. He leans in to me and without warning I open my mouth, let my warm breath beat against his skin, kiss his throat, and then rake my teeth against that tender flesh.

He shudders beneath me, body vibrating, throat humming with a deep growl.

“Hmm?” I break the silence and nip the same place I’d just bitten.

His fingers pinch the nape of my neck, chiding me gently. “You know it’s not a thing of words.”

I wiggle in his lap and squirm until my lips rest just beneath his ear, my breath warm and damp against his skin, my tongue flicks against his earlobe and I whisper softly: “So few things between us are.”
Continue reading

I Have Weak Ankles

sustained from an old injury. They only flare up every once and again. Enough to make me fall head over heels on occasion.

My hair grows like a weed. I cut off six inches two or three weeks ago and now, I can barely tell a difference.

I grow my fingernails long and smooth and rounded. I used to file them into sharp little points once upon a time, but I’ve grown out of that phase.

I keep my feet in pedicures… they’re one of the few luxuries I really, really indulge in.

I have a soft heart and it makes me cry easily for animals, small children, the suffering of others, and the beautiful agony that is my own suffering.

I have a strong will that lets me struggle and strive.

I have an unhealthy relationship with food and consequently, my body, that my personal trainer is trying to break me of; instead of seeing food as sustenance, which is all it is, I see it as both the enemy and comfort, depending on my mood.

My favorite parts of my body are all the little bony places: my wrists and ankles, my collarbones and hipbones, the tiny points where my ribs poke out beneath my breasts.

I want, more than anything, to travel, penniless, through the world, making my way the only way I know how.

But that thought frightens me too, because I know the terrible, squeezing grip of poverty well, the way it makes you unable to breathe, the anxiety it gives you, the scars it leaves… and I never want to know it so intimately, ever again.

They say people who drink whiskey straight are real alcoholics. I prefer to think of myself as a connoisseur.

My compartmentalizing skills are legendary: they are how I survive but also have the propensity to ruin me utterly.

The bottom part of the year is my favorite. Autumn is passing into Winter, and the cold air soothes my spirit. I’ve been listening to Christmas music like I need it to live, and I’ve had a roaring fireplace every night for a week… warranted, by the way.

I want something dangerous and exciting and new to happen to me very soon.