Thirteen years ago, I was contemplating sex with a stranger, at the risk of being labeled a slut. Today I am contemplating screwing the lead guitarist of a band that my father bought every album of, just because I will be covering the band’s concert here this spring. Open relationships mean one thing: Trust is more important than monogamy, and “hunk o’ burning love” is taken literally. The problem arose when Dennis did not want me sleeping with any man except himself, something that wasn’t fair, as he confided in me that he had had several “encounters” on the road, then “clarified” that they had all been between bandmates. What? He’s screwing other men? It’s not surprising to me, but it really threw our therapist back a few inches.
But if I had sex with another woman and he could watch, that was fine.
Isn’t it always?
I have been in conversation with the guitarist that I am planning on conquering this spring, and he’s really a nice guy. He doesn’t know what I’m planning, yet, and a good groupie doesn’t divulge what they are planning until the moment happens, but he offered to buy me coffee and talk about the tour. How nice. I needed a shot of insulin after that conversation.
Hey, my manager says I have to be nice to the bands that I interview! It’s out of my hands! If we give them bad publicity, they may shit on our publications, and we’ll lose readers. Normally. Knowing today’s youth, if a band said “[This] magazine sucks!” millions of people may jump out and buy it or order subscriptions. Unfortunately, the managers don’t think like that, and if we get bad publicity from a band, the reporter who caused that bad publicity is fired. Permanently. So, it’s my motto to be a groupie in disguise of a reporter! Besides, I’ve been a groupe since I was fifteen, and I’m still waiting for that one “bad thing” to happen to me to spoil it all.
Dennis has been trying to get me to rethink many things on my agenda. Things such as sleeping with this guy, packing up and leaving the family, and other “mistakes that I am going to regret” in the future. I replied that he sounded like a middle school teacher, preaching about “the future” all the time. I’m at that point in my life where I don’t care about the future anymore. I just want to make it through the present and learn to let go of the past. If that means that I am a whore or a slut, or a “druggie whore” as one of my lovely blog visitors has referred to me as (I can see those referrer logs, dumb ass!), then so be it. It’s amazing that people really care that much about what I think of them that they are willing to insult me over an invisible media. There’s the discussion of what this may be “setting for Chloe.” I can honestly say that my own mother’s promiscuity had no effect on how I grew up, other than I wish she had not physically and emotionally abused me in the process. Other than that, it’s her body, her pussy, her choices. I’m not married to her just as Chloe is not married to me. If Chloe grows up and has sex with Marilyn Manson, good for her! I hope she at least gets his autograph out of it all!
My biggest concern is that I don’t know if I can go through with it. I’ve been having that problem for a long time now. Call it a conscience, call it chickening out. I don’t know what to make of it. Ideas?
Before any rumors start to fly, why yes, I did some dumb shit and hurt myself this week:
On the day after Christmas, I became the world’s worst parent and allowed Chloe to get her ears pierced. Since that day, she had been pulling on her ear lobes, then shaking her head, as if she had a bug down in her ear canal. Not on the posts, per se, but the actual lobes. This morning she was doing it, and then complained of hearing a pop and then nothing. Like me, Chloe has implants in her ears so that she can hear. She has had them since she was a couple of months old.
I took her to the doctor today. Surprisingly, it was a very simple procedure to fix the implants. He just put something down her ears that looked like a long ink pen and she could suddenly hear again. He told me that the pulling on her ear lobes caused the implants to slip and she wasn’t to pull on her ear lobes any more for any reason while she has implants in. By some miracle, she didn’t have any infection in the piercings. When her hearing was restored, the doctor asked her why she was pulling on the ear lobes, and she said they itched inside. We were both stumped by that since the itching phase of the healing process should not have started with in the first hour of getting her ears pierced.
I guess one would want to know why I would approve of getting my six year old pierced ears. Well, her sister did her own self-piercings when she was about six, after begging, demanding, asking, threatening, and blackmailing, she pierced her ears herself. Much like I did when I was ten years old. PoRo and I had the same complications: infections, crooked piercings, uneven piercings, and to this day the only type of earring I can really wear has to be sterling silver because of all the infections that my ears have gone through. I am very fortunate that I didn’t lose my ears to gangrene or from my hair constantly being tangled in the cartilage piercings.
Since coming home from the doctor, she hasn’t pulled on her ear lobes, but she’s still shaking her head from time to time. I asked her why and she said she didn’t know. Back to the doctor, then.
Today is Dennis’ birthday. We’re going out to eat soon. I may/may not post pictures later on.
Tell me I don’t love the man:
I have one hell of an infection in one of my old piercings. It’s so bad it’s draining onto my neck and in my hair. I can even smell it, so I imagined other people can smell it too. I changed the backing, cleaned the earring and my piercing with alcohol, then smeared my ear with Neosporin and drenched my earring in it. The entire back of my ear was swollen and tight. I was hot on that entire side of my face.
I’ve written my paper that is due on Thursday three times since I threw it together on Wednesday night. I must be a good writer because the two people who have proof read my paper tell me that they could tell that I put a lot of work into it. Um, no. I just love writing, and I cranked it out in a two-hour span the night before the first person read it. I don’t even think it’s my greatest work.
I realise that I’m behind in my emails and stuff. I know some people want to continue to “talk”, but right now I’m passing blood (not my period), I have an ear infection, and I have this damned paper I have to write. I hate writing papers for school. But after that, I should be able to catch up on emails and other things. Right now, I have to focus on my school work and getting well. That’s the important part.
I have a couple of new themes that I want to get going by the end of next week. I haven’t spent a lot of time desigining them, but they’re coming along steadily. Yes, the fonts are going to be small on them. But there’s a couple of magic buttons you can push on your keyboards to make fonts bigger on sites. command++. You can push it a few times and any font will be bigger. =) I’m also planning a new layout for spring. Isn’t that so like me? It’s not even winter yet, and I’m already planning for spring. =) New beginnings, new hope.
I tried to install Drupal and Expression Engine here, because I like their themes much more than I do WordPress, and not everyone and their granny is running those scripts, but I can’t get my entries to show up in Expression Engine, and Drupal won’t install at all. Holy run-on-rhyming sentence! =)
I also want to show off my nose piercing:
Isn’t it wonderful? =D I know it looks red there, but it doesn’t hurt anymore, hasn’t been infected, and it’s less than two weeks old. My nose isn’t dirty, either. I had a nose bleed last night from bumping my face.