My Daddy!!! I love and adore him…and to be honest, I’ve never trusted anyone this implicitly, or deservedly, before. Gone are the foolish days of trusting because I want someone to be a certain way; or worse, simply because I love someone and hopethey’re a certain way. I trust my Daddy because he has earned it, and he continues earning it all the time. (I even did a whole Writing on it: Ways your Daddy has earned, validated, and re-gained your TRUST.) I can trust my Daddy with my emotions, knowing he won’t belittle me, or use them to manipulate me with later. I can trust him with my insecurities, knowing he will do his best to see me as I really am, while still loving and nurturing me. I can trust him with my secrets, knowing he won’t judge me (and oh, he’s had cause and opportunity!). I can trust him with my personality, as bizarre as it may sound…with so many people, I feel I only show them certain sides of me, but with my Daddy, he gets to see the whole gamut, from serious to scared, playful to paranoid, affectionate to aimless, dreamy to depressed. He’s seen it all and then some, participating in, if not outright causing, new parts of me to develop and grow. You get the idea. I love and trust my wonderful Daddy! Mwahhh!
Here’s my Daddy’s!
One Person I Can Trust
Do you really expect me to say anyone else other than my Baby? If so, you are a fool and an idiot who has not been paying attention to my answers to the past days of this Challenge. I trust my Baby more than I’ve trusted most of the people in my life. There are some people I have trusted pretty deeply, and she is on par if not beyond them. I trust her with my deepest, darkest secrets. Secrets such as the things I’ve done and the places I’ve been that I haven’t even told the best of my friends. I’ve opened myself to her in ways I never realized I could, and been vulnerable with her in ways that gave her the power to utterly destroy me… and she took it seriously and was supportive and loving. So I trust my Baby with all my heart, which works out, cuz she’s got it pretty much beating in her hand.
Time travel. I would save a few lives, take a few lives, go into the future and unlock the secret of eternal life, then have fun going and doing and being with whoever I wanted, any time I wanted. heh heh Get it? Any time I wanted.
Be fluent in another language. Spanish has always been one of my favorites. When spoken slowly, it’s extremely sensual.
Here’s my Daddy’s!
Two Things I Wish I Could Do
I’m actually going to cheat and do this Challenge as a two-fer. Two serious things I wish I could do and two daydreams. Here goes!
I wish I had more willpower. I believe with that, I could accomplish most anything I need or want. I wish I had the willpower to do what needs to be done, when it needs to be done, regardless of whether I WANT to do it or not. With that, homework would get done, chores would get done, I’d be able to push myself to work out on a regular basis and actually do a PROPER workout, and I’d be able to discipline myself to get a job and go to it, thus securing a source of income. Then, with income, I’d have the discipline to seek out an apartment of my own, and on the list goes. Alas, among all my wonderful talents, the will to do the things I don’t want to do is not high on the list. I do believe it is on the list, but I wish it were higher.
I wish I had the ability to actually affect change in the people around me more directly. I can support, I can counsel, I can suggest, I can advise, I can do my best to lead, I can show, I can even direct… but I can’t actually DO anything for them. I can only pave the path to the best of my ability, stand at the end of it, and beckon fervently. They must walk it themselves. I know the importance of them walking it themselves and that if I did it FOR them, then they wouldn’t learn or grow… but sometimes, I still wish I could take that first step or two for them, or when things get difficult walk with/in them. It’s a weird concept, but I don’t mean “instead of”, I mean “with”. Like a little girl standing on her Daddy’s feet as he walks.
I wish I had super-speed. As shrimpy as I feel sometimes, you’d think super-strength would be my desire. But nope, I’d rather have super-speed. Not only is it utilitarian (travel times would dwindle), but according to physics speed has as much to do with force as mass does. (Yay F = ma, Force equals mass times acceleration.) True, I may not be hitting with a big, meaty, muscle-powered fist… But when that punch is coming in faster than a greased cat fleeing an oversized vacuum cleaner, followed by another 20 in the next couple seconds? You’re gonna be in a world of hurt.
Thusly comes the second part of the daydream. I wish I had fast healing (yes, a la Wolverine) or invulnerability. Truthfully, with super-speed invulnerability would be more useful because for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. (Newton’s Third Law, had to look up which it was.) So punching a guy at mach ridiculous a few dozen times in a few seconds would be HORRENDOUS on my hands. With invulnerability, problem solved. However, as cool as that is, I’d actually rather have the super-healing. It sounds weird, and I’m not masochistic, but I think it would be good for me to feel the pain. I don’t want to become insensitive or inured. For every time I hit someone, it would be good to be reminded that what I’m feeling, they are feeling 10 times over. It’s a check to make me think twice before using my power in that way. I don’t want a mangled body though, so woot fast healing! Plus, it just looks cooler. Colossus may look awesome with his silver body and bullets just pinging off of him as he wades in unfazed… but Wolverine charging forward and actually TAKING every shot, seeing him jerk but keep going, drop and get back up again, and just keep pushing forward… I think that’s cooler.
So yeah, I’m a nerd. Can you tell? ^_^ Those are two things that are actually lower on the list, but were on my mind. There are other things higher on the list I’d actually prefer, but wishing I could have god-like genie-level powers just kinda feels like a cop out.
“Love”…sandwiched between “I” and “you”. My Daddy hears this several dozen times a day.
“Mwah!”… Pretty sure I can’t go a day without giving Daddy kissies.
“Mmhm”… This word has about as many meanings and implications as the f-word. It can infer sexual pleasure, deep agreement, casual interest, occasional encouragement, bothered acknowledgement…the list goes on. I use it mostly for the first two.
Here are my Daddy’s!
Three Words I Can’t Go a Day Without Using
Baby. Not a single day goes by in which I do not talk to her, and of each of those conversations, sometime during them I call her by my favoritest name, Baby. Or better still, my Baby.
Love. Very often in combination with an “I”, a “you” and the above word. Not a day passes that this combination isn’t used, as well as other combinations.
Fuck. I have some clear views on swearing, and they can be summed up by saying, “appropriate use only”. I don’t like it when people swear just to swear, with no point. If whatever situation/event warrants it, then by all means go ahead. Otherwise, choose something more appropriate. That being said, fuck is such a versatile word! So I’m pretty sure it gets said at some point every day. Appropriately within context, of course.
Happy… The day me and my Daddy became “me and my Daddy”. We had read about it, thought about it, talked about it, and on October 5th, 2012, we finally decided to be about it! I remember waking up the next morning beaming from ear to ear and thinking, “I have a Daddy!” Not just any Daddy…MY Daddy. Who is, by the way, utterly wonderful. *purrs happily* No one I’ve ever been with before has held a candle to his way of being. I love you, Daddy!
Scary… While driving down a two-lane mountain road at 40 MPH, I rounded a corner only to see a car speeding towards me in my lane, with an unbroken line of cars to their right, a cliff to their left, and nowhere to go but straight into me. We both slammed on our brakes and stopped twelve inches away from each others’ bumpers. Apparently they thought it was a brilliant idea to try to pass an endless line of cars, going up a mountain, around a curve. The bitch proceeded to glare at me, since clearly it was my fault that she nearly rammed me head-on being a fucking idiot trying to pass in a no-pass zone around a mountainside. That was the first time I used the f-word in front of my mom. She started bawling as I drove away. I was shaking for about twenty minutes. She never chastised me for my language.
Crazy… At my first job, I had a pretty flirtastic manager. He was twenty years older than me, married, with five kids. At his 40th birthday party, he sidled up to me outside and told me to go upstairs and lay down next to his wife and he would follow me up. Yep, that’s right, bi threesome for the sweet, innocent Christian girl. Um. I was tempted. But I still said no.
Awesome… When I was sixteen, my best friend and I went on a (chaperoned) road trip to another state to see our favorite band, Plus One. We met some of the guys before the concert and got lots of pictures and autographs and they did magic tricks for us and all kinds of stuff. Then after the concert, we went through the autograph line…twice. Then, their manager told me where they were having dinner. So we got to go hang out with them for several hours, it was great. We mingled with Plus One as well as their opening act. A few of the guys sat in the booth with us and we just chatted about all kinds of things for a long time, took more pictures, and just chilled together. It was awesommmme!
Here are Daddy’s.
My Baby and I were talking earlier about dreams, and I related a particularly intense dream I had a long time ago about an arsonist setting fire to the house where my family and I lived. It was a very vivid dream, so it’s stuck in my memory.
My surprise on my 17th birthday when I received my dog Jubal. I’d wanted a dog for awhile, but Dad always said he hated dogs and didn’t want one. I’d pretty much just accepted that it wasn’t happening. Then both Mom and Grandma got involved. My sister woke me up of a Saturday and we drove to Grandma’s. I knew it was birthday stuff, but when mom came walking out with a copy paper box the LAST thing I expected was a puppy. One of the very few times in my life I’ve been speechless.
Getting pulled over for a DWI because I was drinking cream soda. I used to know where I could get liter glass bottles of IBC Cream Soda by the case. There was no label, the IBC logo and all that were just molded into the glass. So when a cop drove by, all the saw was me swigging an amber fluid from a liter-sized glass bottle. Made for an interesting story…
Meeting my Baby. I was massively depressed and considering suicide, and I went to a depression chat room as a coping mechanism. Little did I know I was going to meet someone who would rock my world there. I didn’t actually know she was even a girl at first, cuz her pseudonym was gender ambiguous. I thought she was a guy. Boy was I in for a surprise… (and she loved springing that surprise.)
Chapstick. I admit it, I’m an addict. They say if you don’t ever start using it, you won’t need it, but once you start, you can’t stop because your body gets addicted to it. Dunno if that’s true, but I can’t go more than a few hours without chapsticking it up.
Showers. Pretty sure I’d go insane if I couldn’t take a shower at least every other day. Preferably every single day.
A computer. Seriously, I hate handwriting stuff, it’s so time-consuming and tiring and imperfect and ick! I like the idea of it, but in practice, no. Just no. I don’t understand how people wrote books by hand. Editing must have been a nightmare.
Cold weather. I know it sounds nuts, but honestly, if I was condemned to live in the Sahara for the rest of my life, I’d rather die. I hate heat and the sun and I NEED my cold, overcast, rainy, snowy weather!
Water. Literally and figuratively, I need me mah watah, man!!!
Love. It truly has kept me alive…without it, I’m quite sure I’d have killed myself. I realized today that love is stronger than even hope. I can live without hope, and I have. But I can’t live without love.
Five Things You Can’t Live Without
My Baby. I suppose my heart would keep beating, my lungs would keep breathing, my kidneys would keep kidneying (filtering waste out of the filtrate in order to send the cleansed blood back into the system and the waste into the urinary duct), and so on… But I no wanna. I don’t WANT to live without her.
My truck. Again, it’s true that maybe I wouldn’t DIE without a vehicle, but I would lose more of the precious freedom I so highly value, and I don’t want that either.
My computer. I’ve spent a few days recently where I didn’t have access to my computer, and I hated it. Heck, internet qualifies too. Though in that regard I can actually occupy myself with other things, and I suppose eventually I’d learn to live without it, but… Yeah, that’d stuck hairy balls. And sucking hairy balls sounds mucho not-fun.
A little more on the serious side… people. Specifically friends, but people in general. I’m a social person, so the WORST punishments I can think of are things like solitary confinement and the silent treatment. I may not physically die, but mentally and emotionally I would fall to PIECES and go stark raving mad without social interaction.
Air. Pretty sure I need air to live. Specifically oxygen, but not pure oxygen, cuz that’s actually really bad for you. Even scuba divers don’t breath pure oxygen. So air is good. I can’t live without air.
Phonophobia/Ligyrophobia, Auditory Defensiveness, or PTSD: Loud or unexpected noises give me heart-racing, stomach-clenching, brain-sizzling terror. I hate alarm clocks. I leave the room if someone is going to use a blender. I plug my ears when I flush in public restrooms. The PTSD side comes in regarding little kids crying, when I can’t see them. If I can see them and know they’re really okay, and just throwing a tantrum or something, I’m fine. But if I can’t see them, I get intensely distressed and can’t shake the horrible fear that they’re being abused.
Mottephobia: Moths scare me because they don’t seem to have fear of humans. Most insects and animals run away from you – moths don’t give a shit, they just fly up in your face and flap around! I hate that. I have spent many a night hiding under my covers for fear of moths getting me.
Acridophobia: Crickets and grasshoppers freak me out for the same reason moths do. Crickets are worse about this, because unlike other bugs, they don’t jump away from you – they jump into you, crazily! Gahhhhh! I do think crickets look very cool, though.
Sinkholophobia: This is an unofficial term, but when that massive black sinkhole opened up in Guatemala, a new fear of mine was born. I’m usually not at all scared of typical scary things – horror film monsters don’t scare me, etc. But this shit SCARES ME. *shudders and snuggles into Daddy*
Agliophobia: Pain…scares me more than death. ‘Nuff said.
Maieusiophobia: Giving birth. *shakes head vehemently* Never gonna happen.
Misophonia: This one isn’t really a fear, but I was hard up for filling this thing out. hehe It’s really more of an annoyance – it’s about quiet but repetitive noises such as someone chewing or an animal grooming itself. It drives me nuts.
Seven Fears and Phobias
Living and/or dying alone. I could actually just expand that to BEING alone, but that’s not actually true. I don’t fear actually being alone. I don’t like it, but I could. Going through life alone and dying alone though? Yeah, that’s tied with the next for my biggest fear.
Abandonment is my other biggest fear/phobia. People I love leaving me, or not caring about me, or turning against me.
Loss of loved ones. This ties into the above two, but they are all different in their own ways. I know growing up, drifting apart, growing in different direction, death, and so on are all a natural part of life, but I still fear losing the people I care about.
Effing up where the people I care about are concerned. I fear hurting those I care about, putting them in no-win situations, making a bad situation worse, and just generally being worse for them than I am good.
Not being able to protect those I care about. An example would be the proverbial back alley mugging situation. I’m mentally and emotionally comfortable with me getting hurt or even killed, but I have a LOT of fear that I will fail to protect my loved one(s).
Blindness. I don’t live in constant fear of it, but I depend on my eyesight heavily. I don’t want to, but I believe I could handle going deaf. Blind though… that’s scary.
I consider myself to be somewhere between Atheist and Agnostic, but I was raised Christian. So I will admit that I do still have a fear of dying and finding out I was wrong. That is not to say I fear dying. I fear being wrong and going to hell. As I understand Christianity though, if you go through the whole believe/confess/be baptized schtick it should be out of a love of god, not a fear of hell.
Faked niceness by bitchy people who think life is their own personal stage.
Anyone with a weak handshake or a disturbing lack of eye contact.
When my hair won’t stay behind my ears or becomes otherwise itchy, hot, or frustrating.
People who talk in the movie theater, or crackle their snacks loudly, or bring their kids to a scary movie, or bring their babies to any movie.
And here’s my Daddy’s!
Eight Things that Annoy Me
Vacuous and vapid people.
People (in particular girls, but guys do it too) who use their charm, looks, or sexual appeal to manipulate others. (I included this one because it especially annoys me. Number 2 does annoy me significantly, but this one annoys me far more.)
Metal on metal, specifically things like a metal utensil scraping against a pot or pan
The sound made when nails are run across a finely stripped material. Some jeans have it, some restaurant upholstery, etc.
Um, so for no particular reason, I went a bit crazy with music links, today. Ignore me. Or listen to every last one, and get a very shocking mix of music that I like. Here’s a pillow for the genre whiplash.
Nine Things You Do Every Day
Wake up feeling awful. I know, boohoo. But seriously, it’s severe enough I’ve looked into chronic fatigue syndrome and sleep apnea because of it. I never feel rested, no matter how much, how little, or how consistently I sleep.
Guzzle water like a fish. Ice water is my favorite drink and I pretty much always have a bottle on my desk with me. Since our fridge doesn’t make ice, I’m currently using plastic bottles and putting them in the freezer so they get icy and very, very cold. I switch out every few hours.
Listen to music. Usually on YouTube, since my iTunes is messed up.
Watch part of a movie. I have a dreadful habit of eating in the living room, so I always watch a movie for ten or twenty minutes during meals.
Learn something new every day. This is a fairly new thing but I’m really excited about it! I prefer for it to happen by natural means, but if the end of the day comes and I realize I didn’t discover something, I go looking.
Wake up. Yeah, I’m pretty sure I wake up every day. Sometimes I don’t wake up till the day is past halfway over, but I DO wake up!
Talk with my Baby. No matter how busy my day gets, she is important to me and I will MAKE time for her.
Eat cheese. I don’t think a single day goes by in which I do not have something that contains cheese or just a straight up chunk of cheese at least ONCE a day, commonly more.
Play some kind of game. Whether it’s a video game, a brain game with the family, or just a silly little game with myself, not a day goes by in which I do not play a game.
Struggle with depression. Because of life experience, counseling I’ve had, self-awareness, study, and a LOT of practice I have a pretty good handle on it. But, that does not mean it isn’t there.
Look at my Baby’s pictures. She’s colored a few pictures for me I have them on the fridge. Every day I pass by them I see them and look at them.
Daydream. I love daydreaming and not a day goes by that my mind doesn’t wander down some fantasy path.
Do something on my computer. This is almost a cheat because I’m on my computer ALL the time. Even when I’ve got school as soon as I walk in the door I’m picking up my laptop.
Tell my Baby I love her. Again, she’s important to me and I love her. There’s a song by Garth Brooks called, “If Tomorrow Never Comes”. It’s touching and a little sad, but it describes how I feel and what I want to say.
If tomorrow never comes Will she know how much I loved her Did I try in every way to show her every day That she’s my only one If my time on earth were through She must face this world without me Is the love I gave her in the past Gonna be enough to last If tomorrow never comes
I refuse to kill spiders. It’s actually due to the book Phantom by Susan Kay. There’s a part where The Phantom is really upset because Christine wants him to kill a spider, and he goes on a tangent about how people hate spiders and kill them just because they’re ugly. *sniffles* I love The Phantom, so…I can’t kill spiders, now.
Snowboarding is my sport of choice, though I haven’t had the money to go in about five years. Last time I went, I was starting on rails, which was incredibly fun!
Christmas is my favorite time of year. I love winter, snow, Christmas trees, and everything else that goes along with the season. Don’t be surprised if you catch me with my nose buried in the grocery store tree lot or the bin of cinnamon pinecones.
I always have a quirky stuffed animal in the rear window of my car. Right now, it’s a green dragon. Before that, it was a six-foot long orange snake with flames. That one scared a few drive-thru girls by accident…
At my last job, I designed an eighteen-page schematic for opening and closing procedures, unbidden. It was for my own personal use, but my manager caught wind of it and asked to see it, once. He was blown away and wanted me to send it to corporate.
Cemeteries don’t bother me; in fact, I used to go to one after work at 10:00 P.M. to unwind and relax. I’d roll the windows down in my car and turn my music up, then walk around for awhile.
I have a purple guard monkey named Sparkles who’s been hanging on my doorknob for a decade. I’m not even into monkeys, but he was just so fluffy and cute, I couldn’t resist. He’s survived many a stuffed animal cut in my bedroom and is the only one who’s always out, no matter what.
Cute notebooks are my weakness and my curse… I can’t resist buying them, but once I do, they’re so pretty and perfect, I can’t bear to ruin them with my messy handwriting. Besides, I find it much easier and faster to type than to write…a piece of logic which, thus far, hasn’t curbed my notebook-hoarding ways.
I’m OCD, though much less than I used to be. A few years ago, my rituals and tweaks robbed me of a lot of sleep and peace. Now, it’s more something that I notice is there, but for the most part, choose whether or not to “scratch the itch”, as my Daddy would say.
So You Think You Can Dance is the only TV show I watch, even though I can’t dance a lick. I love seeing the dancers’ personalities unfold during the course of the season, and the excitement of wondering what the choreographers will come up with, next.
Here’s Daddy’s ten!
Ten Random Things About Me
For a long time, without trying, I scored the MAXIMUM amount of points under Extroversion on the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator. I haven’t dropped much.
I am a Star Wars nut, but not in the typical sense. I’ve seen the movies several times, and I do like them, but my interest lies more in the Extended Universe. Mostly the books in the years following the Battle of Yavin, all the way past the New Jedi Order and I’m currently working my way (slowly) through the Legacy of the Force series. (Jacen, not Cade, for those who actually understand what that means…) Also, I have played Star Wars Saga Edition tabletop rpg quite a lot as well.
Many consider me to be a redneck. I don’t wholeheartedly agree because although I do like guns, and horses, and am from Texas, and drive a truck, and love country music, and love my jeans and camo, and my favorite hat says PBR (Professional Bull Riding)… I was born in AUSTIN (Awwstin), which is about as liberal as Texas gets. I’ve never lived anywhere near the country, and I’m a city boy through and through. I’m also missing some distinct “redneck” qualities. I prefer chiggin over beef, not a big fan of beer, never been hunting (though I want to) and I’ve lost my thick southern drawl. Those are all stereotypes, I know, but… Yeah.
I love my hair. I am proud of how long and thick it gets, and maintain I am a redhead. In truth I don’t actually know. I look in the mirror and see a kinda mostly brown/maybe a little blondish with a reddish tinge. But I talk to other people and they say I’m DEFINITELY a redhead. Explanations thus far as to why I can’t tell include lighting and that I’m a bit color-blind.
My all-time favorite food is TEX-MEX. In particular cheese enchiladas, though I always get a taco with it. Runners up include mac and cheese and frito pie, but Tex-Mex still wins.
On that subject, I am likely going to die young from the amount of cheese I consume. I flipping LOVE cheese, and I’m sure I’m corroding my arteries with plaque as we speak. (Crams another queso covered chip in my face.)
When I was in my late teens/early youth I was incredibly shrimpy. I’m short to start with, and I was SKINNY. I didn’t like it, and felt very weak and wimpy. So I started working out, doing Martial Arts, and took Fencing. One of the best feelings of my life was hearing a friend turn to a guy who was pestering me (in a playful fashion) and say, “dude, you don’t want to mess with him. He may look short and look small, but he will kick your ASS.” *Does a wiggly happy dance of awesome*
Not actually related to the above (well, maybe a little…), but for most of my life I have had some pretty serious anger issues. It wasn’t the only reason, but one big reason my parents decided to homeschool my sister and I was because I was that bad. I was coming home EVERY day with slips and notes on how bad my behavior was. Calls to Mom/Dad’s work were very common. My sister, who attended the same school in a higher grade, had standing permission to get out of line and check on me anytime they passed my class. My GRANDMOTHER had come in to sit and observe my behavior on more than one occasion. (This was a big deal.) I’ve mellowed now, but oh the stories I have from kindergarten and first grade… (Yeah, kindergarten I bit a kid cuz he took my seat. Tore flesh out. That bad.)
I’m a dreamer. I have daydreams about all kinds of stuff, most of it ludicrously impossible. I’ve pictured myself flying high above the clouds in a futuristic aircraft, engaging and warning off enemy or unfriendly pilots threatening our land, being responsible for not only myself, but also anyone in my plane (if I’ve got a buddy behind me) and my wingman. I’ve kicked back and thought about what I’d do if I won a few hundred million dollars (this is a favorite). I’ve imagined and worked through the gifts I’d give to people, the security I could give them, the possibilities it would open, the stuff I would buy… (at least three separate trucks for different functions, and a couple sports cars). Hell, I’ve even worked out via Disney rules how to become a free genie and still free the other genie. Yeah, I’m a dreamer.
My #1 most amazing quality is my capacity to love. Despite my Martial Arts training and penchant for weapons, I really am a lover, not a fighter. I am capable of loving hard and deep, and establishing a bond with someone quickly. Furthermore, it is not a weak or shallow bond. If (or when) something happens, that bond doesn’t just evaporate and disappear, it sticks and that person always has a piece of me. Because of this I ought to be more careful who I share myself with, and I have learned the hard way that it’s not safe to wear my heart so openly, but… That’s how I am.