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blondefeste

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tired [Jan. 26th, 2015|09:26 am]
blondefeste
I'm getting tired of being lonely and not being good enough.
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(no subject) [Nov. 7th, 2014|08:45 pm]
blondefeste
I'm just going to call it a wash for today... and hope that the GM was just having a shitty day since he's been dealing with opening up buildings and getting shut down at others. Otherwise I'd be quitting today.
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Here we are again good ol' livejournal. [Sep. 1st, 2014|12:41 pm]
blondefeste

Here we go againCollapse )
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Being the good guy [Jul. 8th, 2014|03:29 am]
blondefeste

Well, here I sit, alone, in the house where I'm dog-sitting, chubby in more ways than one, with the puppies looking at me like, "Dude, you were going out, why are you back? Shouldn't you be out doing something?" And they're right. She was beautiful; the kind that people right fucking songs about. The alabaster skin with dark green sweeping tattoos up and down her arms and playing with the curves of her back, hair tied back to reveal the strong shoulders, long neck, and sweeping curvatures of her spine visible through the scissored t-shirt. She was ready, she wanted sex, fun, free, and unattached and it was all I could do to resist her. She was a karaoke junkie, for Christ's sake, she pressed warmly and smelling all womanly, breathlessly singing "Wicked" in my ear. Hot. I mean REALLY really hot, the kind that makes you growl as you try not to bite her in public, kind of hot. "To be honest, I just want to go down on someone and then ride them until I can't anymore." Did she need to be more specific Aaron!? Hell, you were next-door to a goth/sex club that she has a membership to get you both into, did you not think to just go next-door and make an evening out of it?

But she is also a good friend and drunk...fuck. I want to, GAWD i want to... but I can't. I can't risk her waking up the next morning and asking herself what the hell she just did... or worse, why. I can't risk being the mistake, I don't want to be a mistake, I want to be a great night that doesn't make her want to never see e again.

Is that really it Aaron, or are you just afraid? Let's be honest, you're not getting any younger or hotter. Did you just miss the best chance you've ever had with one of the hottest women you know, who is not repressed in her sexual nature and wouldn't hold a quick romp against you? Did you just guarantee akward interactions later anyway, without at least enjoying the fun first? Were you just scared that she'd find you too vanilla? Where you scared that she wants someone to be dominant and playful at the same time? Were you afraid you couldn't handle her? Were you really just being the good guy, or were you being a fucking coward? Did you fear it so much that you tried to ensure whiskey-dick by ordering extra shots or were you trying to fill yourself with liquid courage? If you're really the good guy, why did you get so close when singing along to the musical numbers? Why didn't you turn your hips away? Was it because you're her friend, because you wanted it, or because you couldn't resist, or because it was a safe middle ground? Was she drunk and honest, or drunk and desperate? Were you just the best that was available right then? Was it just the fact that you felt gross from work that stopped you? Why didn't you offer shower sex? You shower, she falls asleep in bed, and you still get to be the good guy. Win-Win.

Basically, WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING!?

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Flash point. [Apr. 22nd, 2014|04:03 pm]
blondefeste

Hallooooo... Here's hoping there are still some of you jagulars out there willing to drop on me when I look up.

In other news, yeah, work is scaring me. I don't feel like I'm taken seriously so I slack off which causes me to not be taken seriously. I do not feel respected by my equals in rank. My bosses write my ideas of as "being overly cautious," or just say, "don't worry about it." At the same time, I can't just ask them, "is this a 'you're too stupid so we'll handle it' version of don't worry about it or is it more of a 'shut up and do as I tell you' version?" Then I have days when the shows are going off back to back without a hitch and everyone just thinks I'm the Baby Jesus, Elvis Presley, Teddy Roosevelt, and Abraham Lincoln all rolled up into one. Sadly those days are becoming fewer and farther between and are only going to continue becoming more so with my move from this building into the coliseum for the summer. I don't want to be at the coliseum and the other supervisor doesn't want to be at my building, sadly she has no experience with changeovers at the coliseum so this is how things are going to play out until the company can hire a new person to replace my immediate boss. (He's the good one who always make me feel like I am getting heard and that my concerns are valid if not a little over-zealous.)

In happier news, I got to go to Jen's birthday party earlier this week and had a great time with new people who are friends with old friends. Games, sing-a-longs, and food. What more could a man ask for that doesn't involve taking off his pants? Better than that, once everyone had left and it was just Brian and I, we ended up cleaning up a bit but mostly just pontifically talking about anything and everything until 4 in the morning. You know those conversations that you feel fantastic about later but when asked couldn't tell anyone what was said? It was one of those glorious ones.

It is those shining moments that I hold onto these days because work is just a haze of "you're not good enough, get it done faster, do it cheaper, and do it now or you run the risk of getting fired." I think I now know how all of those crazily stressed 1950's nuclear power plant workers must have felt; guiding the world with bountiful energy while simultaneously trying to protect it from the blinding light of post-modernist consequences.

If I don't get a day off soon, I may just let the reactor melt down. To clarify, I mean a DAY off, not 24 hours where I am not in the building, but a whole day where no one can bother me and I am not expected to be at work, thinking about work, or even using the word "work" at all. I HAD 2 days off planned for Friday and Saturday but those became 2 blocks of 24 hours interrupted by work "emergencies." So I say again, melted reactor.

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Work is killing me [Apr. 12th, 2014|08:28 am]
blondefeste

I hate this job, I really really hate it.

It's been almost 2 weeks since I had a day off and every day has been no less than 12 hours and sometimes as long as 16. My body hurts. My mind is shot. I've still got 12 more hours today and if my boss finds something I missed, I'm running the risk of getting fired and living on the street. There are days when this job is awesome, but right now I want the building to burn down to make my life easier.

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(no subject) [Feb. 17th, 2013|02:00 am]
blondefeste
I'm getting really tired of killing my friends in my dreams. I'm getting even more tired of the bourbon not knocking me out properly. Damn you liver and my habits of hydrating!
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Fear [Feb. 9th, 2013|02:15 am]
blondefeste
It has been a long time since I've had a dream that woke me this frightened.

I can still feel it in my hands.

I have a friend who is very much like Sarah Brightman in ways physically (same shape, good skin, and lovely hair, she's too much of a perfectionist to agree that she could sing the parts too.) also she's a big REPO! fan so I can see why my mind cast her. I just don't understand why I was who I was... It was this strange amalgam of REPO and Phantom of the Opera. I had the Repo suit and a half mask where someone had smashed it into my face; the face cover was split in the center, stuck in my cheeks like some horrible beak. I looked down upon everyone swarming across stage. I was angry, no one was listening to what I told them (I think I was protecting from some kind of invasion on its way to the Opera house; I want to say zombie or at least a mob.) They all were jostling her, running about her, while she tried to calm them, they rushed her ready to kill. I rode the chandelier down pinning her to the stage and then I butchered her. From stem to stern, there wasn't anything left to identify her as human save for her eyes and her lips. They never stopped looking at me and working trying to beg me to stop. I was vicious with it. It was quick but it felt like forever for me. She saw me coming, she thought I was going to make it all better and I betrayed her in the most intimate of ways I could find. But everyone followed me. I was on top. If anyone questioned me, I'd eat another part of her and that would solve the problem. When I ran out of body parts, I'd slice myself to maintain control. I bled her eyes from my wounds. I'd eat them again to make them stop staring at me... Eventually I sounded like her, her voice was in my throat and I couldn't rid myself of it. I looked in the mirror and it was her eyes in my head, her lips on my face. Both folded back and started pressing inward until I woke up...

You'll have to forgive the horrid punctuation but I had to get it all out.
Anyone have any incites other than, "Geez that was a fucked up stress dream?"
I may have put a dent in my wall while asleep...
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(no subject) [Jun. 25th, 2012|10:19 pm]
blondefeste
Hiya Livejournal! Long time, no see!
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Beautiful and Sad [Aug. 15th, 2011|12:14 pm]
blondefeste

I get a bit depressed sometimes... more than a bit actually. Frankly I go through a midlife crisis every other month or so. But there are those who remind me of what life is supposed to be; how it is always beautiful and sad. To all of you, I'm sorry I don't tell you more often that I love you. I love you for what you do for me and for who you are. I am not refering to an amourouse or lustful way - even though this may be true of some of you - but in an accepting shared experience of horror, fright, worry, joy, death, and victory. You are my deepest friends and worst mistakes. My source of strength and my one truest agony. Thank you for being beutiful and sad. I love you.


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