Less Sex, More Meat

During my research into Adrenal Fatigue, I came across the website of Dr. L Wilson, and what I believe must be the most ridiculous argument against a vegetarian or vegan diet.

I can't advocate for or against these diets because I'm still searching for my own answers, but I think most meat eaters and their vegetarian counterparts would agree that this doctor's lack of research is not the biggest flaw in his articles.

According to Dr. Wilson, (sic) some women develop a strange craving for male semen [...] This may sound odd, but it is quite common, especially among semi-vegetarian and vegetarian women.  They want frequent sex without condoms because they feel better when they absorb more male sexual fluid.

So basically, these vegetarian women (for some reason it doesn't extend to men) are so meat deficient that they try to get their fill with cum. 

But wait, it gets better.


The problem is these women literally wear out their husbands and boyfriends, wanting sex daily or every other day in most cases.  It is not about enjoying the orgasms and some women don’t even have orgasms and don’t care.  It is the fluid they want.  This can be very hard on marriages and other man-woman relationships.

If the man in their life cannot satisfy their new craving, some are tempted to go outside the marriage or relationship for sex.  This, of course, is extremely disruptive to their primary relationship, especially if the partner finds out, it spreads disease fast, and it puts the woman in physical danger although she may not realize it.

Ladies, if you don't eat meat, you will fuck-up your relationships by becoming sperm-hungry adulteress.   I guess we can surmise from this that it's okay for men to be vegetarians then?

One solution is simply more sex.  However, the craving easily becomes an addiction if one chooses this route.  Then it is even harder to control  A better solution is less sex, more love and more red meat.  This will help preserve the marriage or relationship, since for almost all men, sex once a week is plenty, and once a month is fine, too.  Sex with ejaculation is quite depleting for men.

So if you have too much sex, you're at risk of becoming addicted to semen.  You're way better off with less sex and more meat!

On a side note, I'd like to ask the men out there if what this doctor says is true: do almost all men feel that once a week and even once a month is plenty as far as sex goes?

What kind of science do you have to back up this claim, Dr. Wilson?

(sic) I am not sure why eating red meat is so helpful, but it is.  

 

 The only thing that works besides more sex seem to be that these women must eat red meat such as lamb, wild game or perhaps some beef several times weekly.  Only then does the craving seem to subside.  Sadly, many do not like red meat, but this is needed.  Taking a powerful digestive aid such as GB-3 from Endomet labs may help to digest meat.  

Don't fuck, eat chuck.  (sorry, I couldn't resist).

Anyway, if it's that important to eat all that meat, why do you need to take digestive aids to do so?

In a more thorough article entitled Sexual Fluid Craving, Dr. Wilson goes on to describe the condition more thoroughly:

Sexual fluid craving is a condition in which a person has feelings of depression, fatigue and even despair that are relieved when their body absorbs just a little sexual fluid, usually from a man.  It can be absorbed in the vagina, by mouth, or just rubbed on the skin.  This unusual condition is most common in women, and affects millions of young women, as well as some young men.

The vegetarian diet could also be the downfall of society:

The main effect of sexual fluid craving is a highly disruptive one on teen chastity, on marriages, on genital health, and perhaps other aspects of society.  It tends to cause the society to condone pre-marital sex, more divorce, homosexuality, abortion, the use of dangerous drugs such as birth control pills, and perhaps has other effects, as well.

 

[...] it causes millions of very young women, ages 15 to 25, for example (why so young?), to want to have a boyfriend and “play house”.  This is a euphemism for having frequent sex together, usually without a condom so they can get the fluid they want.  To prevent pregnancies without condoms, the young women are often on birth control pills or patches, which are horrible for their health.  Some of the young ladies end up getting abortions, which is also hard on them, but is a common part of the fluid craving ‘lifestyle’.

It's a lifestyle.

Sexual fluid craving may help explain why those who wish to destroy a society often rape the women and even the men, as it is an effective and fast way to cause sexual fluid craving.  This, in turn, disrupts the marriages, corrupts the young, encourages abortions and so on.  It also leads to more lying, cheating on one’s mate, and “stealing” fluid from others, which is a type of vampire-like behavior.  It also makes women much more aggressive, in some cases, and may result in more homosexuality.

 

This craving can bring out a selfish quality that can become exaggerated.  A person craving sexual fluid, for example, may go outside her marriage to obtain male fluid, even though she may not even enjoy the sex.  She simply wants or feels she must have the sexual fluid.  She may also take chances of obtaining sexually-transmitted or venereal diseases, and may infect her partner with them, all to get more fluid.

All to get more fluid...

One of the causes of sexual fluid addiction, according to Dr. Wilson, is a possible entity attachment.


Weakening of the body due to too much sex as a result of sexual fluid craving often opens the body to entity attachment.  Many do not believe in this, but it has been written about extensively.  It has been mentioned [ ] as a possible cause or contributor to sexual fluid craving.  However, it is also a possible consequence of the condition, as well.  When this happens, which is hard to identify for a person, the condition often gets worse because the discarnate entities often encourage the behavior.

It appears that in some cases, after a woman is raped, for example, souls that float around freely and are sometimes called entities or discarnate souls, get inside the body.  They can get into a woman’s body, where they might irritate the vaginal area or do other things that cause or contribute to sexual fluid craving.

This is a difficult subject to discuss rationally, as some people don’t believe in discarnate souls or entities.  However, they are real, and a Google search will reveal many books about them.  In fact, both the Old and New Testaments of the Bible mention them a number of times. 

The bible, ya don't say...

Another cause of sexual fluid addiction is having too many orgasms.  Too much sex or too much masturbation in a woman or man can deplete sexual fluid and can cause or worsen sexual fluid craving. 

Sigh.

Did you know that sexual fluid addiction explains homosexual behaviours?

Sex fluid craving affects some, and perhaps many male and female homosexuals.  In fact, sexual fluid craving can help one understand some homosexual behaviors when one realizes that they may be attempts to absorb more male sexual fluid.  This includes such things as smearing the fluid on one’s body or the body of one’s partner or mate.  One can absorb the fluid through the skin, in the anus, in the mouth, swallowing it, and a very effective way is to rub it in one’s eyes and ears, and on other delicate parts of the body.

As one follows the program, the entire homosexual lifestyle may begin to seem odd or strange.  I do not understand why this is so, but it can be confusing for homosexual men, in particular.  Clients report that this causes feelings of extreme loneliness, depression and anxiety.  However, once a person works through this, by staying with their nutritional balancing program, which might take a few weeks to a few months, then life becomes much easier and much happier.  Often, homosexual desires are gone and the sexual craving is also gone, or much reduced.

What else?

Christian young women who do not want to have sex before marriage are still affected by sexual fluid craving.  However, they seem to be able to put up with the condition without too much trouble in many cases (aw well that's good).  Becoming a Christian seems to help with the feelings of depression and fatigue that give rise to the craving.

[...] the so-called women’s liberation movement unfortunately can make sexual craving a far worse problem that breaks up relationships that otherwise are going well.  It also fosters selfishness among women, guilt in some cases, and causes more sexually transmitted disease, which is already a terrible epidemic.

Vampirism.  One of the worst outcomes is that it turns otherwise fine young and older women into selfish nutritional vampires who basically crave and steal seminal fluid any way they can, at times, with no regard for their own dignity, for love, or for the well-being of their partners or mates. 
Like all addictions, if left unchecked it can ruins people’s lives, ruin families and children, and has repercussions for the entire social fabric of society.  The reason for this is that the family unit and stable man-woman relationships are the basis for a stable, and happy society.  This is the truth, even if modern psychologists disagree. 

It's the fucking truth.

So now that we know about this horrible disease, how can we get help?

Well, following the prescribed nutritional balancing program is one important step, according to the doctor, and it is especially (sic) VERY IMPORTANT IS TO AVOID ALL FRUIT, although I do not know why this is so.

He doesn't know why, but do it anyway.

To wrap up, sexual fluid addiction can be caused by: lack of meat in the diet, discarnate entities, women's liberation; can cause homosexuality, adultery, semen robbery, wreckage of families and societies, promiscuity and all the accompanying issues (STDs, abortions, rape, etc.); and can be cured by having less sex (leave the poor men alone!), eating all the meat, no fruit, and becoming a Christian.

I hope you enjoyed my review of Dr. Wilson's article.  If you aren't yet convinced that meat = good, I give you the following from the vegetarian diet section of the doctor's website:

 IS THERE ANYTHING POSITIVE FOR ANIMALS REGARDING EATING MEAT? (sic)


Yes.  When animals spend time around human beings, even penned up in cages the way chickens and cattle often are, they advance spiritually.  This is the truth.  The same is true of owning pet animals, too.

Bam.

Notes:

all italicized text is citation from the following sources:

http://www.drlwilson.com/articles/SEXUAL%20CRAVING.htm
http://www.drlwilson.com/articles/VEGETABLEDIETS.htm

all emphasis in bold and/or underlined text is my own

I am not advocating any particular diet choice, all dietary info is that of Dr. L. Wilson

I realize I am being a bitch by 'poking fun' at someone's beliefs, but I'm using the excuse that the source was asking for it by publishing his beliefs as facts.

I apologize for the over-use of memes - I've been reading buzzfeed too much.

<3 M

(Really) Glad To Be Alive

I almost died yesterday.

My day started of okay - had a routine cleaning at the dentist for 11am: the hygenist was extremely chatty the whole time, which makes me anxious, although she was very nice and kept going on about how beautiful my teeth were.

Value Village is in the same plaza as my dentist and that's where I headed after my appointment.  After heaping my cart full, I proceeded to the change room where I spent a generous and painful length of time trying on various things.  After a while, I was so sore that I just had to stop.  I was also starting to get hives, which is normal for me as I've been getting them for the past two years whenever the lightest sweat breaks out (it's very frustrating).

I left the change room and started looking through the items in my cart.  After a minute or so, I started having trouble breathing, so I started taking my inhaler, but it wasn't helping and the hives were getting worse.  I went to sit down and text Brian and right after that, I felt my face was swelling up.  At that point I dialed 911 and went outside to the front of the store, leaving my cart inside.  My breathing was worsening by the second and by the time I spoke to the lady on the other end, I could barely speak. 

So I waiting, bent over a railing, trying with all my strength to just breath. 

The ambulance seemed to take forever to arrive - longest time I've ever waited for an ambulance.  Meanwhile, the 911 lady kept asking me questions, and I eventually just stopped answering her because they had nothing to do with my condition and I couldn't talk!

Then a woman coming out of value village starting acting like my nurse, putting her face in mine, asking me dumb questions, leaning her hand on my back, making it even harder to breath.  I felt like crying. I didn't know what to do.

When the ambulance finally did arrive, they slowly sauntered over to me as if I was suffering from a minor boo-boo and proceeded to ask me questions like "what is the matter,?" "what's your name?" "do you know where you are?" etc etc - all of these questions and they still hadn't even touched me.  I stopped trying to answer their stupid questions because I felt like I was literally drowning - I couldn't get ANY air.

So then they put an oxygen mask on me, which was not emitting ANYTHING.  I tried to tell them but they didn't listen.  I took the mask off to look at what might be the issue and the place where the oxygen is supposed to com out was covered by some kind of plug.  I tried keeping the mask off of me because it was making it way way harder to breath, but they kept putting it back on me.

At this point, I was pretty sure I was going to die.  They were taking their time.  And they stopped trying to put my mask back on.  But I didn't want to die, so I started trying to beg with what little air I guess I was getting (no idea how) - "please help me!" "I can't fucking breath," "please, you don't understand!" And the EMS guy was quite annoyed by this point, and just barked back "this is our job - we know what we're doing!" 

THEN they give me an epi-shot.  Get me onto the bed thing (whatever it's called), and proceeded to take their time.  I started clawing and thrashing out of desperation (not at anyone, just the bed thing) the same way one would if they were underwater drowning - it's an instinct - even if you want to die, your body automatically tries to fight it.  I got yelled at again.  I've never begged that hard or desperately in my whole fucking life. 

At that point, I just accepted I was gonna die and tried not to fight it anymore - next to impossible.

So they had me lying down flat on this bed, and for anyone who knows about asthma or breathing problems, you know that's the worst possible position - sitting up and/or turning on your side makes it easier to breath for some reason.  So I tried my best to wiggle to my side, which was next to impossible  cause they had me belted in so tightly.

They finally put me in the back of the ambulance, where I was half in the bed, and half leaning against some kind of glass cabinets.  The didn't touch me again.  Just left me alone, and I actually started to be able to breath a tiny bit, laying on my side, which was so relieving.

We finally got there... did I mention they didn't even turn on their siren until we were just about to arrive?  They rolled me into the hospital, into a room, where there was about seven staff.  The EMS still hadn't touched me - in fact the one guy told them in a very annoyed tone, that I had no idea who I was or where I was, etc.   WTF.  Yes I did.  I just couldn't breath, motherfucker!

They placed me onto the bed in the room, and put an oxygen mask on me that actually had oxygen coming out of it!  From there on I knew I would live because they were all there giving me what I needed as if it was an emergency.  I got two more epi-shots, an IV with Saline, Magnesium Sulfate, Prednisone.  They gave me ventolin, lots of oxygen... hooked me all up with electrodes and basically made it so I could actually breathe again.  And they were nice to me, too.

Brian came - walked at lightening speed from downtown to the Jurevinski hospital - first time I'd ever had someone at my bedside at the hospital.  Felt odd but good.They continued treatment and monitoring for several hours until they were sure I was stable and okay. 

I was exhausted, and in so much pain: one particular nurse, who I'm sure meant well, kept squeezing and poking my arm, not sure why but I think she was hooking lots of stuff up to me.  I kept saying ow because it fucking hurt like a bitch, and finally I said "I have Fibromyalgia" and they were like "oooohhh, okay" - I don't usually complain when stuff like that happens, but it was too much.  At least they understood why it was hurting me so much when I volunteered that information.  It made me realize the importance of letting people know so don't hurt me inadvertently.

This same nurse, when the moved me to another room when I was stable, came in and slapped my leg "affectionately" asking how I was doing.  I screamed because it felt like she just dropped a ton of bricks on my leg.  Sigh. 

Yesterday was not my day.  But I lived.

So a bit of background: as I said, for the past two years or so, I get hives so easily, just from a tiny bit of sweat.  They usually start on my chest and can stay for a quite a while.

Then about a month or two ago, I started going to the YWCA to use the treadmill, which I'd done many times before and never had an issue.  One day I came home and almost immediately broke out in hives all over my body, itchy, sooo itchy.  I was itchy inside and outside - and I felt myself swelling up - my face, eyes, lips, basically my entire face, so much so that you could still see the effects of the swelling two days after.  The scariest thing though, was that my throat was beginning to constrict. 

So I laid down in bed, put the fan on my full blast, and concentrated on relaxing my body, and breathing, paying attention to the swelling so that I'd know if it got serious enough I would call 911.  The only reason I knew that it was a serious thing, is because since I was a little girl I have been allergic to fish, so much so, that even to touch the juice of it sent me into severe antifilactic shock - my eyes would swell completely shut and my throat would swell and cut off my air completely.  I had twenty minutes then I'd be dead.  When I got a bit older, they shortened my time of death to three minutes - scary stuff.

After that exercise incident happened, I went to the doctor and told her about it: she set up an appointment with an allergist and gave me a prescription for an epi-pen.  She also told me to take allergy pills before doing any exercise, just in case.

Well we found out yesterday that ODSP doesn't even cover an epi-pen - something that could save your life quite literally.  I thought that was ridiculous.  Brian brought the perscription in to get filled and they handed him a form - not an epi-pen, and told him I have to go back to my doctor to have the form filled out.  If I had had that epi-pen yesterday, things might have turned out quite differently.  Luckily, the nice doctor who took care of me yesterday was awesome and filled out some form for me to take to the pharmacy to make it so I can get it covered.  A hundred dollars is what it would have cost.

He also prescribed me a new inhaler since I used it all up trying to breath in the value village yesterday, and three days worth of prednisone.

So, I went into antifilactic shock yesterday, so bad that it almost killed me.  And just from my own perspiration, apparently.  What's that about?  My throat closed up, and I couldn't breath.  That was the scariest thing I can think of that I've gone through - I find it really upsetting to think about so I've noticed I've been trying to stuff it inside so I don't have to deal with it.

I know I have been quite judgmental in this post, mostly regarding the EMS people, and it's quite possible they were doing everything they were supposed to do and it just didn't seem like they were because I was so desperate to breath that I couldn't help feeling that way.  I realize this - I just really needed to vent it all.

I've had to call 911 various times in my past due to asthma attacks and every time, the ambulance arrived quickly, acted quickly, gave me oxygen right away, took me to the hospital asap.  So I just don't get what they were doing yesterday.

Also, I'm extremely grateful that I had the brains to call 911 - my pattern has always been to avoid calling them at all costs until I knew I would absolutely die if I didn't.  I'm not sure why I have been this way except maybe that that's what my mother has always done, or because I didn't want to "waste their time" unless absolutely necessary, or I just didn't care about myself enough.  Or maybe all of that is why.

So all I know is that I am somehow alive today.

What scares me now, is that this could happen to me again at any time, any place, any day.  It has been easy with the fish allergy because I just had to avoid fish.  It would seem now I have to avoid sweating too much (until maybe the allergist can figure out what's going on), which is really impossible since it happens just when I make dinner, and not to mention summer is just about here.  I'm scared.

Not sure if anyone will read all of this since it's a pretty long post, but for those who do, thanks.


<3 M

Pride & Prejudice

This writing was inspired by something a friend wrote...

I'm a 30 year old disabled girl.

When you look at me, you might see a very overweight 30 year old girl but you will not see anything to indicate disability.

I'm one of the lucky ones with the invisible disabilities: I don't look sick, ya see.

I don't look sick, but I do look fat and out of shape.

And when you don't look sick, people come up with their own explanations of why you can't do a lot of physical activity.

And when you don't look sick, but you're over weight, people come up with even more fun explanations of why you can't do a lot of physical activity.

To many, fat = lazy. It's a judgement. And it's one I am paranoid about because I'm a prime target of such thinking.

I believed that about myself for some time too.

When I started to get sick, I was a slim girl. My disabilities and my weight both went up together for various reasons.

I was only moderately active before I got sick. Now I struggle to do the simplest things. Some days it's almost as if I'm perfectly healthy and other days I can barely get dressed. I never know which I will get.
 Most of the time, it's somewhere in between.

But the judgement that I am just fat and therefore lazy is sad and untrue.

If I were slim right now, i would still be disabled. I would still have days where I could barely move. The only difference would be less weight on my joints but as I've found out, that only helps to a point, it does not cure anything and it has no bearing on my Fibromyalgia.

It took me a long time to learn some important things and you know what? It isn't about weight, it's about lifestyle.

A skinny person who eats horribly and never exercises, is not healthier than a fat person who eats horribly and never exercises.

A skinny person who eats horribly and never exercises is not healthier than a fat person who eats well and regularly exercises.

It's about lifestyle and biology. My mum has Fibromyalgia and Osteoarthritis (and Borderline Personality disorder for that matter), and I was lucky enough to inherit these things by the time I hit age 20.

The reason this topic is heavier on my mind right now is because, after waiting a really long time because my ego was too proud to give in, I got a walker.

Without anything to aide me, I can walk extremely short distances and not without being in a lot of pain.
Because my lifestyle has been like this for the good part of ten years, the lack of physical activity has made me out of shape, which is a contributing factor in the pain I feel when walking.

With the aide of a walker, I will be able to actually go out and walk somewhere. I will not be so trapped. It will change my life. And it will get me walking, which will help me build up some strength.

My hope is that after a while of using it, I will be able to walk longer distances WITHOUT it, thus getting me into better shape.

I want badly to be stronger. I hate so much feeling trapped in this limited body. I hate having to plan so meticulously how I'm going to get somewhere just in case I'm caught stranded. I hate feeling left out of certain activities because my body won't cooperate.

But I was really afraid of getting a walker. I was afraid it would mean I was somehow giving up. But I know it is actually the opposite.

I was, and still am, afraid of the judgements: I am a 30 year old, overweight girl using a walker. People will look at me and think "that girl is so fat she needs a walker to help her move." But they have no idea. That's why judgements are so dangerous - you just never know.

Anyway, I'm gonna try to use the darn thing as much as I can. Hopefully the part of my brain that just doesn't give a fuck what others think will kick in more lol.

P.S. Judging is bad, mmmmk?

<3 M

Hypnotized Existence

My dreams taught me an interested thing in the last week - not sure why at this time exactly, but it's an important lesson nonetheless.

First, I had a dream that I was three months pregnant.  So I told people I was due November 1st.  But in the dream I didn't even take a millisecond to do the math.  But when I woke up, I wondered "why November 1st, what does that mean?" (Yes, I take my dreams seriously).

Then I realized November is six months from now, so it was literally my due date in the dream. But why did I know that without even thinking about it.  Usually I have to count the months, ya know?

Two days later I had a dream about a man named Clive.  When I woke up, I wondered about it cause I thought it was an odd name, I don't know of anyone named Clive, it's such a random name for me to have in my subconscious.  Curious, I googled 'Clive' and got 'Clive Owen' the actor.

I didn't/don't know of him (so I thought).  He was the exact guy in my dream, looked exactly the same.  No idea why I'd dream of some random actor I've never heard of.

But these two dreams made me realize somewhat how the subconscious mind works, which was both interesting, and worrying. 

My brain can do that math without "thinking" about it because it already knows it.  I, in my thinking process, have to "do the math" to come to the answer, but my subconscious already knows it because it's stored in there, as something I've already learned.  It doesn't need the time that I do to calculate, it had held onto that information.

I may not know of Clive Owen, but my subconscious mind does.  So many movies, tv shows, advertisements, tweets, updates, articles, etc. that we are not going to recall most of the little tidbits of information we come across: names, faces, dates, facts... if we remembered all of these things, we couldn't operate sanely on a daily basis, I think.  But if we've seen it, a part of the brain has retained the information - somewhere, probably, in parts of the brain that we have yet to consciously utilize.  It's in there, stored up.

They say that everyone in your dream are people you've seen in actual life.  Even just walking past them down the street.  The subconscious mind observes and takes in so much!

It is amazing, really, and so cool.  Our brains are so powerful, so much more than we can imagine, and we've only tapped into part of it so far.  What is going to come in the future?  How will it be when we evolve more and more and unlock other parts of the mind we have not yet had access to?  It's an exciting thought.

But it is worrisome.

This phenomenon makes it a piece of cake for us to pick up messages, unbeknownst to our conscious mind, that greatly effect who we are, what we do, what we believe, and what we value.  Talk to any ad person who's willing to tell you - this is a large part of how advertisements are created.  They spend a lot of money studying how our brains work in order to persuade us into thinking what they want us to think, thereby gaining loyal customers - usually starting when they're very young because that's when the mind is most susceptible.

Because of this phenomenon, every single person is powerless against picking up unwanted messages.  Unless of course you live outside of any society and aren't connected in any way to media/tv/internet.

Why is this such a big deal?  Because hypnotism is serious.  Because you go see hypnotists to help you quit smoking by trusting the hypnotist with your subconscious mind to influence you in a positive way.  That hypnotist could easily take advantage of the situation and give you any kind of suggestion they want.  You wouldn't know it, but your subconscious mind would, and that's good enough to effect you on all levels.

What if the hypnotist were to tell you, while under, that you are not beautiful unless you wear X-brand sunglasses?  It may not be a big deal, but imagine getting that message all the time: you would start to believe it. Imagine your kids getting messages of this kind everyday, as their thoughts, their minds, their personalities, and beliefs are forming.  What do you think that does to them?

I may not present a convincing argument, but I hope it makes you think.  It's not just sunglasses, digital cameras, and barbie dolls they're selling you.  It goes much further than just advertisements, but I think I'll not go further into it here.

A lot of who we think we are, is not even true.  Our identities are shaped by what we see, hear, and experience.  It's scary.  And I hope there comes a day when we won't be used so casually for the profit of others.  I know I'm a dreamer, but crazier things have happened.

I encourage you to do a bit of research on what I'm talking about - you can't really get away from the problem but I think it helps if you know it exists. That awareness does have some power over it.

Anyway, just wanted to share what my dreams have made me think about this past week.


<3 M

Don't Drink The Wormwood!

I set the timer for three 15 minute intervals in a row: do you have any idea how much you can get accomplished in 15 minutes?  It's ridiculous.  I kept having to check the timer to see if it was broken because it seems like it should have gone off already.  Nope.  I got a lot more done than I set out to do because of this little trick - but more importantly, I got off my ass and started.  Fifteen minutes.  Mind you for more physical jobs like cleaning the apartment I think ten minutes may be a better idea, depending on my pain levels that day, because I found myself needing to sit around the ten minute mark.  But I pushed on I did!

Then I made myself a Swanson's microwave dinner and Mel came over.

And like the magi she is, she brought me frankincense and myrrh. This is the same friend whose handfasting I was at last Saturday, the one who was married by Santa :-D

I made a pot of wormwood tea.  Have you ever had wormwood tea?  It tastes like you're chewing aspirin.  No exaggeration. In fact, it's possibly worse than that. I got the stuff from Brian, who told me it was not possible to finish a whole cup of the stuff because of how nasty it tastes.  I had to test this theory, plus I wanted to see what effects it would have since it is well known for its ability to bring altered states and enhance the third eye etc. and since we were going to do readings, that would have been fitting. So we did our best to tolerate the horrific taste (with O.J. chasers).  I managed to finish half a cup, Mel was a real trooper and managed to finish all of hers.

The effects were good but not THAT good. Not good enough to repeat. I'll take my wormwood in incense form, thank you.

It was a nice, witchy night.

There's a story about her earrings that I find interesting:

Mel's step-mother gave her a pair of earrings that were owned by her sister.

The sister's name was Dana "Poppy" Pastori.  Poppy was her slave name.  She was planning to leave her bf/Master but I guess he didn't want to release her because instead, he strangled her and chopped her up into pieces which he then mummified and shoved into a box.

Her body was in that box for three years and then came Hurricane Katrina.  That's when her body was discovered.  He had kept her with him, even BROUGHT HER WITH HIM when he and his new gf moved.

Now he's in prison.

And her sister (Mel's step-mother) gave Mel the earrings that Dana had been wearing in that box the whole three years.  She told Mel she wanted her sister's spirit to "live with her."

So now Mel has these earrings...

Before mentioning any of this, Mel asked me to tell her what I felt from them (psychically).  That was on Saturday right before she was handfasted.  I felt nervous excitement.  Then I felt like the oxygen was cut off from my head and my ears started ringing.  So Mel then told me a bit about where they came from.

I held them again tonight, this time I felt like I was being pushed down and had a cutting pain in my arm right above the elbow.  Then Mel filled me in on a lot more of the details about these earrings.

I asked why her step-mother would want her sister's spirit to live with her rather than to move on - kinda weird don't ya think? But as the step-mother wished, Dana's spirit seems to now be hanging around Mel.  At least that's what she tells me.  But at least she's trying to help the woman move on, and I find it pretty cool that she seems to mainly be doing so in her dreams (yay dreams!).

Now there's a good lesson for all you Dom(me)s and Masters/Mistresses out there: if your slave wants to be released, it means s/he wants to end things, it does not mean you should go mental and pull an "if I can't have you, no one will" or something equally as psycho.

P.S. I love you Master! mwa!


<3 M

The Oscar Goes To...

Today is lazy day here: I planned to do a butt-load of laundry amongst other things but it seems I have done only the minimum amount of required work and have spent most of the day doing stuff online

Last week I woke up in the middle of a revolution in Egypt.  It reminded me a lot of how I felt when I slept in on 9/11/01: I woke up all groggy to people panicking and just assumed it was some kind of joke or that my friend was over-reacting to something.  I felt outta the loop.

In this case, because I have woken up a lot since then, the more I heard/read/watched, the more enraged I became at the stupidity of government. It never surprises me, never fails to.. well, fail.  But I am extremely happy for and proud of the people of Egypt and hope they serve as an example that change IS possible, no matter how impossible it may seem.

Sigh.  Anyway...

I had an awesome weekend with Brian and Drew: we played games, had yummy snacks, watched lots of Simpsons, and cleaned some messy bedrooms.  Lots of fun, still a little sore from piggy-back rides but I'll survive ;-) 

This is Drew's impression of the ridiculous viral video 'Sittin' On Da Toilet'  - She is too cute.

 

In other news, I've been pondering what might go on in people's heads when they choose to make things controversial, ultimately making their own lives difficult.  When you treat a person like garbage and THEY end up extending their forgiveness to YOU, you would think the person would at least take that opportunity to leave the past in the past.  Apparently this is not logical for some people.  I guess this person wants to feel awkward and uncomfortable... seems a shame really, but not my problem anymore.  If you're going to be hanging out where I am hanging out and interacting with my friends you are not going to be able to avoid me, sorry.

Such is life.

And life is absolutely grand! :-)


Love M

You're An Asshole

We are social creatures; we need each other.  We are also, as a species, selfish assholes; we hurt each other.  What makes us keep those people in our lives who seem to lessen the quality of it?

People come into our lives, I beleive, not randomly, but quite intentionally (I don't beleive in accidents).  Unfortunately, this includes people who hurt us in various ways.  The paradox is that we need these people to be assholes (and the assholes have even more assholes - it's very much like an asshole pyramid scheme) in order to give us the opportunities for learning and growth.  The assholes in our life help us become better people, ultimately. 

So really we should be thanking people for being such assholes to us rather than letting their neurosis make us miserable.  We can choose to gripe and complain and continue whatever unhealthy dysfunctional relationships we're in or we can learn from the crap they have brought into your life and move on. 

You might notice that over and over again you attract the same types of asshole and the same melodrama seems to play out.  Well, you will just continue to do so for the rest of your life until (hopefully) you learn from it and apply the wisdom accordingly.

Here is how it works:

More assholes = more wisdom to apply to future relations = ultimately less and less assholes necessary. The less assholes you need in your life, the less of an asshole you are to others (yes you are and/or have been an asshole in some form or another whether you know it or not, otherwise there would be no assholes to speak of).  All of this equates to having better relationships and less asshole-ish-ness to deal with.  Mind you, learning never ends so there will still be an asshole on the horizon to sharpen us up, teach us more.

Well, this is how it works ideally.  The other end of the spectrum is not learning from the assholes, keeping them in our lives in one way or another, and continuing to have miserable relationships. 

I opt for the first choice O_O

But I find it hard, often, not to feel judgment toward those who just seem to "not get it" and continue a life of asshole-dom.  I am not the most mature person, that's for sure, but sometimes it feels as if I am the only one being an "adult" when it comes to dealing with interpersonal relations.  It surprises me less and less that people who are old enough to be my parent have the maturity of a two year old - and even my two year old niece knows better.   I know, I just have to remember that people tend to re/act from a place of fear and that deep down, everyone is vulnerable, everyone has been hurt, and everyone has fears.  Asshole-ish-ness is definitely a secondary emotion.

I think the point of all this 'thinking out loud' I'm doing here is to say that it is a wonderful feeling noticing the shift in my life from having a few sturdy people and a buttload of assholes to having more and more sturdy, real friends and slowly but surely less assholes.  It's really important to me to have a solid and healthy support system/relationships and I'm liking what is developing.  I know I have a lot of things to overcome if I want it to be this way: I need to reach out to people; I need to open up and not hide in my shell no matter how shy I am; I need to nurture the good relationships in my life and stop putting energy into the not so good ones; I need to stop being SO TRUSTING! (yes trust is good but I take it to another level).

I admit I'm a scatterbrain, especially these days with the fibro fog eating my memory and my dire need for more structure in my day to day life, and this more often than not results in me forgetting to keep in touch with people.  I will have to figure out how to not let that happen.  Like I said, we are social creatures and no matter how many times in the past I've wished I could just hibernate and not have any relationships whatsoever, the fact is, we need each other.  We are all a bunch of assholes who need to be with other assholes.  So poetic, I know.



Love M

It Really Is Gross

First 'what the fuck' of the day is my continual shock at how people can be so two faced and get away with it. I think it keeps surprising me because I always want to believe the best of people. The verdict is still out on whether or not that makes me the idiot, or them.

This chick I know, we'll call her S, (who just might be crazier than I am), is now all buddy-buddy best friends forever with this other chick I know, who we will call J, when just a few weeks ago, S was totally bad-mouthing J and saying she would never be friends with her because yada yada yada (basically a bunch of stuff that she now apparently doesn't care about). Not only that, but J wasn't too keen on S either.

Why does it bother me enough to be writing about it in my blog? Maybe because I know that S is and has deceived a lot of people under the guise of genuine love and healing and to my knowledge, no one has ever called her out on it. I don't think she's ever really had to face the consequences of her actions and I guess I'm saying that's bullshit. And I was a victim as well.

Maybe it's hard to react to - how do you deal with someone who seems to be the epitome of passive-aggression? My only hope is that karma will straighten things out.

Most of my friends are men, and for a very good reason - girls suck. Girls can't co-exist without bullshit ensuing. But I'd been missing having a gal-pal to talk to - talking exclusively to men about my problems was starting to fuck me up lol. So I thought I'd open myself up to girlfriends again, which was wonderful until heads began to double and I was once again reminded why there aren't many girls in my life.

I don't get it. THIS is what's keeping us from running the world, ladies. Save the drama for your mama.

Anywho, I'm not writing off females again, I'm just gonna be a lot more careful from now on and especially avoid situations where there are too many vajajays (that one's just for you Sunny) in the same room.

Speaking of Sunny - she's a girl. She's awesome. Hopefully I will find more where she came from as far as gals go. I'm too naive for this society damnit.

Anyway, just remember that if you care at all about having any class, lop off that second face right now and bury it deep in the ground because, in the words of Bob Saget, "that shit ain't right."

Oh lordy, who will censor the censors?


-Love Marylin.

Projects Gone Horribly Wrong

The Vulva project died a silent and painful death, without explanation to any of the eager folks who were on the edge of their seats in anticipation for today… as today was to be the opening of the Vulva community.

I’d like to say a few things about Vulva.

1. Vulva began with the best of intentions, and on the path it was going (with its editor’s tireless work and creativity) it was to be something quite spectacular, something to be proud of and something a lot of women (and men) would have benefited from.

2. Without proper communication from all parties involved in a project, the project is likely to go awry. This is what happened with Vulva. Some people realized that they had bitten off more then they could chew and for reasons unknown could not communicate this to the rest of the people involved.

3. If you’re going to go into a project as hefty as a magazine/community with friends, you are taking a big risk – you could lose friends if all involved are not capable of proper communication. On the other hand, the risk could be fruitful… this was not the case with Vulva.

4. Note for the future: don’t talk about a project until it’s ready to go. This will prevent you from looking like an idiot if the project fails before it even begins.

5. Always make sure your vision is the same vision the others have. My idea of feminism seemed to greatly differ from some of the other project participants. That can’t work – the vision has to be the same, so make sure you figure that out before you go forward.

6. If your project does not work out, take what you’ve learned from the experience and move forward to bigger and better things.

7. Another good rule of thumb is that if a group project fails, never go ahead with that project afterward on your own without discussing it first with the people who were involved – that is no different than stealing, unless the idea was originally yours, than don’t even think about it, it would be tacky. Besides, they would probably give you the okay if asked first.

8. If it weren’t for Vulva, I probably would not have gotten to know its editor as well as I have and we may not have become friends… so I’m thankful to Vulva for that, it is very much in the Vulva spirit :P Like I said before, take what you can from the experience and move on.

9. Luckily, there are many other publications and communities out there that share the same voice that Vulva had/was to have, so anyone disappointed that Vulva never got off the ground can check these other projects: http://vaginapagina.com/ is probably a great place to start.

10. I won’t get into the details of what a nightmare the Vulva project became at its end, but I will say that it ended with the best of intentions, for the sake of saving friendships, because some of us believe that friendships are more important than PDFs.

I’m all vulva at heart and the seed of what made Vulva a great idea has not died, it will just have to grow in other places.

R.I.P. Vulvazine


-Love Marylin.

And A Bedroom Balcony...

I live in a lovely one-bedroom in a very good neighborhood in my beloved Hamilton: By MYSELF. A goal I've been striving for from practically the very beginning of my tenancy with my former roommates/former friends this past March.

Thank the gods. That's all I have to say. Thank the gods. I've learned a lot about having roommates in the past four or five years and I'm adamantly opposed to it (you never know who is going to fuck you right over).

On the other hand, I'm happier than a pig in shit, as they say, and isn't that they way life usually spins it?

Should I have listened to my friends, my family, my therapist when they told me these people weren't really my friends and I'm crazy if I don't get the hell out?

Nope. Shoulda listened to myself.

On that note, time to move on to bigger and better things, thank you.

Camera, lights, action!


-Love Marylin.