I don't want to be a party pooper....

but I'm totally in a funk. A big ol' bad funk. At first I thought it was because I was getting the flu, but two weeks later I still feel like shit with no symptoms in particular that I can really medicate....with flu medicine, that is. Depression runs in my family, so I know what to look for and I will get some help if it gets any worse. I don't think I'm depressed, per se...just a little down from stress related things. I like being in control. I like having my own timelines. School doesn't let me do this. And this whole singlenosex thing really sucks too. I miss being touched ( and spanked...but that's another story). Plus, this shitty rain isn't helping either. My appetite is messed up too. Anyways...this too shall pass. It always does and I promise this will be the last pity post.

Or maybe I'm just still hungover?

P.S. Mitzzee! I miss your sexy zombie ass!

Wow...it's been a year.

And I'm still confused. All I could think about while throwing my guts up yesterday was you. I wish I could throw up your memory...but most of all I wish it had been violent. Maybe then I wouldn't blame myself and I could blame you instead. Yeah that would be nice. Blame you...I do sometimes...I wonder why you thought my silence meant "yes", when I had said "no" so many times that night? I wish I could get your voice out of my head...you're so tight...and the memory of your skinny little dick. I blame myself for not screaming what I was thinking in my head, but most of all I wish I had left when you forced me down the first time. Whatever. Fuck you.

Happy Halloween!!!

.....ouch.....

I don't think I should drink. Period. It was ballerina gone wild last night....with a finale of me passing out on a couch in full costume plus makeup and my contacts still in. I feel like shit today, but it was totally fun....until I puked....twice.

I also found out that, when extremely drunk, I'm the type of friend who willingly offers a helping hand when her girlfriend loses her tampon string. I am officially scarred for life....and if I wasn't sure that I wasn't a lesbian after my girl kiss last spring, sticking my finger into a pussy has definitely made it clear. I am 100% not a dyke.

Now I must go to bed and wipe all traces of last night away....hopefully.

Enjoy the pics....I had fun taking them.

Attention: Uterus

getting ready!
Originally uploaded by jezebelle1.

I'm not sure if you got the memo I sent on Sunday, but you're supposed to stop bleeding when I start taking the little pills again. I hope that I have made myself clear. I want you gone. G.O.N.E.

Thanks!

Jez

Today, I lost my mind. And my wallet.

Literally.

I'll give you the short version.

I forgot my stupid floppy disk in the Arts comp lab for the 3rd time.

And then proceeded to forget/misplace my wallet at the Museum of Anthropology.

I realised this 1 hour later when I went to get my copy card to print some journal articles at the library.

However, I assumed someone had stolen my wallet while it was in my bag, stored in an unlocked locker at the museum.

I frantically called a random mastercard number and was connected to not one, but two people in the UK. Hello? I said it was a Canadian account bitch!

Finally, after a half hour on the phone, I was able to cancel my card.

Fretted (read: cried/contemplated whoring myself out for bus fare) about how I was going to get home with no bus pass, no money and no id.

Decided that it wouldn't hurt to retrace my steps.

15 minutes later, retrieved my wallet from a waytoofuckinghappy security gaurd at the museum.

Thanked God that I'm one lucky-mutherfucking-Irish-bitch (with a whole bunch o' WOP).

Oh, right....just call me the cancel girl.

So...yeah, no date tonight. I had a mini crisis people. Who wants to go on a date after that? Plus, the dude commented on the phone yesterday that he, "didn't expect me to be so, pleasedon'ttakethisthewrongway, intelligent". Fucking rights I'm intelligent, buddy. I gave him a, "what? a girl can't be sexual, hot AND intelligent?" response (don'tmakemegetallfeministonyourass). Oh yeah..don't fuck around when I'm bleeding from the crotch. Just a warning for the future...he he he...I love that I'm being such bisnatch today. Giddyup!

Learning to Kneel.

No sick jokes yo! I took part in a Japanese tea ceremony today. Try kneeling for 40 minutes....no seriously. Try. It. It fucking hurts, no? I was too busy trying not to cry like a little bitch to really get into the whole ceremony, but the macha was alright and the sweet treat was just the right amount of funky. If you don't know what a Japanese tea ceremony is then look it up...I would explain it to you, but I just don't wanna.

How to have a midday crisis....Jez style.

So...right now I have a mastercard in my wallet that I can't use because at approximately 3:12 pm today, I reported it stolen.

Fuck.
Fuuuuuuck.
Fuckity.
Fuck.
Fuck.
and a little more of...
Fuck!!

Wow, I like totally feel better about this now.

P.S.

It's a looooong story and I'm too tired to be pissed off about it now, let alone write about it.

And that, children, is why you shouldn't be nice to people.

Two years ago I had a phone stalker. I worked with him for a couple of months at the Gap and he'd tracked down my new number from my sister. I swear to God, the second my new line was connected, he called. I'm not too sure why I didn't answer the first time he called, but I'm kind of crazy like that...sometimes I answer and sometimes I don't. Anyways, so he leaves a message and I don't call him back. I was busy with school and to tell you the truth the dude kind of creeped me out. I mean, we were friendly at work, but why he gotta be calling me at home? So I didn't think too much of it until I noticed one day that my caller ID showed that he'd called 5 times while was at school. No messages. This was more than a little creepy to me. Anyways, so this happened repeatedly for almost 5 months. He'd call like 6 times in the span of one hour...rarely leaving messages. Every time his number showed up on my phone I felt more and more violated. In the end, my records showed that he'd called over 60 times...never once ever actually talking to me. This dude was in desperate need of getting a copy of "She's Just Not That Into You". I still sometimes get creeped out at the thought of him attacking me in my back alley while screaming "you should have answered the fucking phone bitch!".

Fucking Hair!

I swear to god I'm going to chop it all off one of these days! If only I had the face for "bald"!

P.S. I got my period last night. Now fuck off!

P.P.S. I'm totally kidding...I just think I'm getting the flu and I'm not very happy today. I over slept and then played sex talk with this guy in TO for way too long and now I'm totally behind in my day. Oh well...every day can't be good day...I don't care what the Buddhists say.

Hmmm...something just ain't right.

Hold up! What is going on? Last thing I saw on Mitzzee's blog was an Indian painting of a woman getting her pink bits licked by a very happy dog. Totally disturbing. And then I went back to check on her 'cause she said she was drunk and *poof* her blog was g.o.n.e!! Mitz?! Where'd you go? Should I call for help?!

Plus, I was supposed to get my period today and guess who pulled a noshow? Yeah. Now worries though...unless I'm carrying the next J.C. ifyouknowwhatimean.

Next, I think I gave my PC a virus when I was surfing for porn last night. Ironic, no?

Lastly, I just ate a jello chocolate pudding cup mixed with peanut butter (I good idea in theory, I thought) and now my stomach hurts :(

"Wait a second....does that mean, like, the buses too?"

Oh man, oh man, oh man. Hey there! Holla! Okay, so this semester I've been totally rockin' the whole student thing...getting back killer marks and actually being interested in all of my classes...please...your applause is embarassing...okay, okay, thank you very much..I try, I truly do. Anyways, so I spent all yesterday on my day off preparing a presentation that I have to give in my Urban Soc class on Friday. However, I just learned today that there might be (most definitely) a general strike on Friday. Say what? A general strike. As in all BC unionized workers...not working (whatever, I'm not in Poli Sci okay!). Say what? Yeah, this includes the transit workers. So...I'm just a little bit confused and a tad miffed. Don't they know I have to give a presentation on that day? How am I supposed to get to school to cross the picket line? I kidd...course I wouldn't cross the picket lines...although my momma did once to get me a chair (long story). Okay, that's all I really have to say about that.

Choc.o.late.

I am Chocolate Flavoured. I am sweet and a little bit naughty. I am one of the few clinically proven aphrodisiacs. Sometimes I can seem a little hard, but show warmth and I soon melt. What Flavour Are You?

Baby needs a new pair of shoes...or at least a scarfe.

Since all of my hard earned money is going towards my "education" at the moment, I've been required to live on a budget. A budget that took me at least a month, two sweaters, two t-shirts, and 1 really cute shrug, to actually learn to accept and abide by. I hate this shit. I see a cute scarf and I. Want. It!!! But my tight bitch of a bank account says I can't have it, also known as NSF. Last year I was rolling in the proverbial dough...I'm totally %100 bitter, that I'm now a starving, 5 year old ratty jeans and even older piece of shit shoes student...again. I bought a winter coat last year that cost the same amount as a 3 credit course without even breaking a sweat, but a $25 scarve leaves me wondering if I really need to eat next week...hmm... ?

Still contemplating that one.

I could get a job..you know, on top of my courses...but I've just never been that type of multi-tasking girl...plus, school has always been enough stress for me.

But I have a plan. I'm going to start my own little business. I know it offers flexible hours, it pays well and it's something I'm good at and enjoy anyways....so, I think I'm gonna do it.

I knew you always thought that one day I'd become a stripper or a whore.

Bitches.

Today's not that day.

I'm gonna be a dog walker!

1 tossed salad....please.

Instant Message from:

Austria is awesome: Hey sexy! How are you? I still can't get that amazing blow job out of my mind. Do you miss me?

Jez: Who is this?

I wish I could report that this kind of conversation is unique, but alas I'm a cocksucking whore and it seems to be happening a lot. But you knew that already ...right? Right.

Lately I've been getting a wholelotta internet action, but nothing in the real world. Which, whatever, I girl needs to take a break sometimes...

Anyways, I have a date this Friday with this writer guy from Chicago who seems pretty crazy, fun and cool...with a wholebuncha tats to prove it. I ain't never been with a man who has tats before. He looks like a total badass hottie...which is exactly what I need right now. However, I'm going to be in the middle of my you-know-what by Friday I ain't never gonna be the girl who gives up the goods without anything in return, understand? So action of a below the belt nature is out...but a little snog is always a fun time. I'm a little apprehensive with this one because he's always telling me how beautiful I am and bladity blah...not that I don't think I'm attractive, it just puts a lot of pressure on me to bring out my A-game. I'm still not sure if I should go curly or straight....it may seem like a simple decision, but it will totally dictate my outfit and my mood for the night depending on which way I decide to go. Did I lose you already?

It's pissing rain.

But I don't mind.

I like getting wet.

P.S. I just realised that the title was chosen with a completely different topic in mind...maybe next time then?

Secrets.

I have many.

I don't love you. Maybe I never did. And I wish you would stop saying it.

I wish it had been violent. I wish I had screamed. Maybe then it wouldn't be so confusing. Maybe then I could blame you.

I hate it when you call me beautiful or sexy or cute. Most of the time I'm not and I wish you would accept that.

I screen my calls. Most of the time I don't answer.

I have blocked you on IM for over a year. The other day when we talked, I had accidentally unblocked you. Your benevolent nature makes want to throw up. I hate your words, and I hate myself for hating them.

My life is full of good intentions, but rarely good actions.

I kissed another man when I was still with you. I pushed him on the bed and I would have gone further if we weren't interrupted. I never felt guilty. I still don't. I felt more passion in that one kiss then I ever felt in our six months together.

I've loved you since the day I first met you over three years ago. I'm waiting for the day you two break up.

I only dated you to make your friend jealous.

Our friendship is fake. I don't know anything about you anymore and it's obvious that you don't care about my life anymore as well. It's the 16 years we've known eachother that's keeping us together. We both know it.

Your boyfriend tried to sleep with me last New Year's Eve while you were passed out on the couch. I never told you because I thought you would blame me. Nothing happened.

Half of the time I don't listen when you're talking to me. You don't seem to notice.

Sex with you was never good. I know that now.

I think you're an asshole. I'm sure that's no secret though.

And the truth is I miss you...

It was a year ago that I last got to hold you. I knew you were sick, deep down I knew you were dying as I held you close to me. I was hungover and tired. You spent the day with me. We watched tv all day...just the two of us. I can still feel the warmth of your body against mine. You were so frail and light...no bigger than 2 lbs at that point. All bones and fur you were. My dog of 14 years. When I left you to go back to my home, my home so far away from you, I didn't know it would be that last time I would see you. You see, I knew you were sick...but you had been sick before, right? You always got better. You did. But a week later my mom called to tell me that you were dying of kidney failure...that there was nothing they could do....that you were going to be put down the next day. I wanted you to hold on until the weekend...just 3 more days. I wanted to make sure that you weren't scared..I wanted to be there...I wanted to say good bye. You were always so cold, I couldn't even make sure you were buried with your little blanket. That was a bad day. They said you went as soon as the poison hit your system...just seconds. I know you were suffering...I do, but I want you to know that I miss you. That I still, even now, look for you running to the door when I come home for holidays. I look before I sit down on the couch..just so I don't squish you. You even haunt my dreams. I miss you so much it hurts even to write this...my keyboard is wet with my tears. I wish I could know that you were okay because you were a great dog. You were my dog. And the truth is I miss you....

I got this from Mitzzee...who got it from Caracola and I couldn't resist doing it myself and was pretty satisfied with the outcome because it is sooooo true.

My real "topic secret" name means:

Versatile, intelligent and artistically talented. You love to enjoy yourself and tend to experience a happy domestic life and material success. You have a methodical and thorough mind and are able to organise large projects easily. Charming and likeable and with more than your share of sex appeal you tend to find yourself in the spotlight and much admired by others. Life is more fun with you around.

Woah...I'm totally cool.

Go here to find out the hidden meaning of your name.

I spent the day in my tutu. If you've never pranced around in a huge red tutu. You. Are. Missing. Out! It's awesome. I was really just procrastinating...and at the time, taking pics of myself and digitally enhancing them was way more appealing than getting to know Hobbes, Foucault, Agamben and Balibar. Shit, I really should start this essay. Anyone know anything about social theory?

About a month ago I went on a date with a guy who was 16 years older than me. I have a thing for dirty old men. I like to imagine them touching me in naughty places and making me their nasty little sex bitch....like I said, I have a thing. Now, I'm sure you're wondering where I would meet these dirty old men....well, that's simple, the dirty old man Mecca..aka Lavalife. Truthfully, I've never actually experienced my dirty old man fantasy in the flesh. I mean, sure I've had sex with men who could, if you're looking at this from a technical point of view, be my daddy, but they weren't what I would classify as "dirty"...although that one guy did know how to give me a real good spanking (damn, I could use one right now). Anyways...so a month ago I agreed to meet this older guy because, well, I was pretty bored and had nothing better to do. Plus, he appeared to be pretty wealthy and promised to give me a ride in his flashy new car. I like nice things. So shoot me.

So I got myself all prettied up....I even shaved down there, because you never know, right? And a hairy cooch is so embarassing...but from past experience, guys tend to not even give a fuck, just as long as they're getting at least some kind of ass. Am I right? I'm sooo right. Shut up.

I'm not going to get into the details of the date because it was pretty basic. But it ended with him singing Backstreet Boys, the old school stuff, on the top of his lungs when he drove me home (do I need to elaborate on the wrongness of this? I didn't think so.). I gave him a peck on the cheek and decided that he was more creepy than dirty. There IS a difference. Look it up.

Hmm...I'm not sure where this story is going? I think I just wanted to mention my old dirty man fantasy again.

You see?! This is what happens when you deprive yourself of sex...or maybe it's just me.

Okay, so tonight I'm going to try one more time to get the g-spot without any help from other sources...if it doesn't work, then it's to the sex shop I go!

P.S. I'm in the middle of reading "Lolita" right now. Humbert Humbert you are dirty!

Mission Update: 1st attempt unsuccessful. However, after spending over 10 hours at school...nothing was quite that successful. On another somewhat related note, I'm afraid I'm on a frightful path of becoming re-virginized...again! The technical definition of re-virginization is the obstaining from sexual intercourse for at least a year (or so Charlotte from SATC says). You see, once I have not had sex for more than a couple of months, the thought of it actually begins to scare me. I forget what was once my favourite cardio activity and instead think to myself, "keep that scary thing away from me"...which I actually said to a guy last weekend. Besides, I'm almost half way there...what's another 7 months?

I'm on a mission to, once and for all, find my fucking g-spot. I've mastered the clitoral orgasm...now I'm ready for level two! I'm getting so frustrated with hearing other people's freakin' squirting stories. Now it's my turn goddammit!! Yes, it might very well be easier with a helping hand of the male variety, but I was able to get myself off for the first time when I was 10....this shouldn't be much harder to master. Wish me luck! I'll keep you updated.

P.S. I still can't put titles on my posts...hmpf!
P.P.S. I know it's probably something I can easily fix, but I'm still hoping that one day I'll log on and it will magically just fix itself.
P.P.P.S. Speaking of magic, I totally went to a magic show last night...but that, my friends, is an entirely different post.

This guy was staring at my chest today and then he looked up at me and said, "hell ya!". I was a little offended until I realised that I was wearing my "Everyone loves a Catholic Girl" t-shirt. Oops. So yesterday "the Asshole"...if you used to read my blog before you might remember him, told me that he loved me. It was in an instant message. I sat there for about a minute thinking what the bloody hell? At first I thought he was joking, but he insisted he was serious. What do you say to that? At times I really hate the guy and now he's telling me that he "loves" me?! He didn't even say "luv"...it was a full on "I love you" ambush. The fucked up part of this story is that I'm 100% totally head-over-heels infatuated with one of his close friends..who at the moment has a girlfriend, but seems to ALWAYS IM me when I sign on. I totally know that he's just not that into me...but come on, why string me along? This is kind of like that movie Threesome...except none of the guys are gay...so it's not really like the movie at all...except that everyone likes someone who doesn't like them in return. Woah. I'm rambling. Anyways, this little situation is very confusing...especially if I factor in the fact that I've been recipro-texting another one of his friends dirty messages during my Monday night class. Being single is hard work people!! Anyways...I have to get back to the Arcade aka my field work site. I just got my first Anth 407 mapping assignment back today and I got an A+ suckas!!! Now I have to observe non-verbal communication...it shall be interesting...or something.

P.S. I've totally become addicted to Bubble Tea.
P.P.S. It's been almost 5 months since I you-know-what...eek! I'm going nuts!