Finding a Guy

After my semi vanilla relations, (Oct to Dec (2017)) . . . I’ve learned I cannot not go vanilla, but I do want to date and cuddle.

I want a positive, ambitious submissive boyfriend. (I do not want a mindless drone or a complainer.)

However I’m slowly learning that life or fate will never put you in the wrong spot. I learned I need to let life do it’s thing. I should not push because I feel desperately lonely.

I’ve learned life will put in me in the right place, at the right time, even if I’m confused in the present.

I just need to do my thing and Mr. Right will be there when I probably least expect it.

Meanwhile I should enjoy my life: good writing, good family, and good friends.

I just to realize I will find that genuine people that I’m into, but they are not into me. I’m not everyone’s favorite soda-pop or cup of tea.

I simply need to move on and focus and believe life knows what it is doing.


Why my hands?

I love to write. The feel of a good pen in my hands as it glides on the page. It invites the words, the color, the creativity.

However my hands have been swelling and cramping for weeks now. I tried water pills, but I sleep and they are swollen again. There are cramps as I write. Pushing down on my palm hurts, moving it too much hurts.

It hurts to hold a pen or a fork. It hurts to make a fist. These damn cramps. I probably have arthritis or carpal tunnel syndrome.

I refuse to give up my writing. I felt due my ear issue, I had give up music. I’m not giving up my writing too.

Maybe I can get my computer fixed soon . . . So I can type more.

I’m going to the doctor soon.


I do enjoy sleep when I have good dreams and the air is just right not too hot or too cold. The blanket is comfy and smells good. I wake up actually feeling refreshed.

This usually only happens maybe 1 time out every 50.

I usually wake up stiff, tired or exhausted (like I didn’t sleep at all). I’ve either hot, cold, in pain, with a headache. . . Or have to wake up due to my bladder or panic attack or choking with breathing problems.

Sometimes I can sleep for 12 hours and feel like I had not slept all. Sometimes I can run all day on four good hours of sleep, again, this is rare. My depression makes me want to sleep even more and not get out of bed.

I have sleep apnea where I do not get enough air in or out. I snore very loud, get dry mouth, grind my teeth, wake up with jaw pain, and headaches.

Apnea makes me wake up choking, my lips to be blue due to lack of oxygen, my head is foggy and it’s hard to focus, my eyes twitch, my eyes are heavy. I get migraines and my stomach don’t settle.

My animea makes me exhausted. I was so tired from the lack of blood cells that I have choked on my food several times.

Caffeine or lack of caffeine really screws me up. If I drink coffee or energy (no ginsing) at the wrong times and my day and night schedules are off.

My anxiety fills my head will ideas and I’m up with insomnia, but I am usually a zombie.

With all of these problems sleep is hard for me.

My current warnings

  1. I can’t cry. I feel like a robot: emotional stuck.
  2. I want to be happy too, but again I’m emotionally stuck.
  3. Im hormonal. It’s due to endometriosis. My body does make enough of one hormone, so others are unbalanced.
  4. I can freak out at anytime: I can go from nice to total bitch. It’s because my hormones are not balanced.
  5. I can be in pain, usually in my pelvic area also due to endometriosis. This can make sex hurt for me.
  6. I can startle easily. However I love a horror movie with unpredictable twists. They are hard to find in this days blah and remakes.
  7. I can easily get stuck in a good book, computer/tablet, or notebook/writing.
  8. I hate to clean, but I hate bugs and spiders more
  9. I only like to clean alone with music blasting.
  10. I am not an outdoor girl.
  11. I am not a girly-girl. I do not owe a dress or make up. I will not wear high heels, in fact, I own one pair of shoes, and two slippers.
  12. I dislike/hate authority. Advise/guide/suggest to me, but do not tell me what to do with attitude or I will turn into a bitch.
  13. I’m not into drug, drinking, smoking, and not into those who are drunk or smoke.
  14. I can talk myself to organize.
  15. I am not a baby/kid person.
  16. I prefer cats over dogs and kids.
  17. I am not vanilla (sexually), and I cannot got back. (I have a seprate blog for that.)
  18. I work better between 11pm and 6am for now. It may change as my sleep cycle never stays the same for long.
  19. I prefer my weather semi sunny between 55 and 75 degrees.
  20. I prefer Pepsi over Coke. I know the difference. I also know the difference between regular and diet.


My love of music is a blessing and a curse. . . It depends on the song and my mood.

I can either take on the world or cry hiding in a hole. . . Depending on how the song pushed my emotions. It could make me laugh or haunt me with a bitter memory of my past.

Music is always something I go to no matter emotion I feel. It is expressive for me and I can make a play list for anytime in my life. Sometime a song just says the words, that I cannot get out of my head.

I was originally a music major in college. I found out that I had inner ear problem on my right ear and it made it hard to play one thing and sing another. I changed my major because of my ear, so music is a bittersweet thing for me.


Between PTSD and depression, I have not been happy.

I’ve tried sims, cooking and the rest of my content list. . .

1. Listening to music

2. Comfortably writing for hours

3. Soda pop

4. Shopping

5. Walking

6. Getting out or dinning out

7. Talking to friends

8. Cats

9. Watching funny TV

10. Going to the movies

I just can’t get or find happiness. Why?


Ironic this writing assignment is over a week late to deadline (anniversary of Toms death January 13th.) The irony is that it was usually Tom nagging me, pushing me to finish my writing on time. Another ironic thing is Interview with a Vampire is playing in the background. Tom’s favorite movie.

Tom’s Dream Funeral

I lived with Tom for 8 years. . . I like to believe you get to know someone really well in 8 years.

As lovely and simple as the real funeral was . . . it was not what Tom would have wanted. He told first of all, he wanted to be biodiamonds. He wanted to be made into jewelry for those closest to him. I would have requested a ring for my middle finger on right hand. The right hand is my dominant and he taught me to say “fuck it” sometimes.

I think it would be in the woods with candles, latter’s and huge bonfire. We have a fake body in which we burn while celebrating him moving into a different realm. We drink, eat, listen to his favorite classic rock music. We sit around the fire and tell stories of him.

What I miss the most, I’ll never find anyone as passionate as he was. He bold, daring, loud, and rambunctious. There was rarely a dull moment with him. Whether it was him yelling at TV over wrestling or football or passionate reciting Lestat quotes from Anne Rice.

I also think I never got to appreciate the way he should have been. He taught me so much about love, hope, dreams, support, and passionate. I hope he knows he will always be remembered for his liveliness.

my prayers