Beer Breath

 There is something about the smell of beer on someone's breath, when it's at the point where they should stop or haven't stopped when they should have - it sparks something in me. Sexual. 

Literally, I can grind off against something whilst inhaling their breath. I first thought it was T. But mostly anyone since. 

And I know where it comes from. My sexuality, my kink, my proclivities, my fantasies, come from when I was 15-17. J would only interact with me when drunk. And he drank beer. And he sneakily touched me. I was 15. He was 21. When I was 16, he was 22.  I didn't realize he shouldn't be doing that. I wanted it. Absolutely I wanted it. It was not against my will, Yes. Please. And I was not alone. My friends felt the same way. Ok I may have been a little ahead of them. But there were many at my level. Plus I hung out with someone 1.5 yrs ahead of me. But also I was sexual at a very young age, but that is another trauma story . 

I met him Memorial Day. My 16th birthday was way into our interaction (July) .  So I think I was already 15 at his bday , also in June or July when he said "this is my birthday? you invited my least favorite people" 

Referring to their friend forgethisname and me. I stormed into the bathroom , properly offended. He followed me in, to have the quintessential John Hughes (He had Emilio Estevez cheek bones, you know the ones that stick out a little that get pink easy, but hazel eyes.  Not green, not olive drab, a light ... Hazel)  bathroom talk about how "Look, you're a great kid but you are only 16...." My facial expression saying clearly saying "Weellllllll"..... And his hanging his head, shaking it, in a silent "fuck".  And when his birthday came along, I bought him a Mets Tshirt (because M. Told me too)

For my next birthday, 16, He got me a phone book that got eaten by M's dog.  M told me her dog ate HER phone book. Or that's what I understood. Which looking back on that may have been my bad. Lol. So he joked about the dog eating my present and I thought he was lying, or didn't know what he was saying. July. I was dating B by August. Having sex by September. J knocking on that door after that, asking "are you still a virgin?" But not able to keep it hard enough to penetrate me. After saying he "has something for me" while fishing out a magnum (yeah, that part is accurate) condom from his wallet. Him literally pulling up his pants and declaring "I gotta go", gather up himself, and was still fumbling when I caught up with him.  I don't remember what was said but I mumbled something like  "I could love you." Straight out of 16 candles. 

I Digress....beer. breath. Yeah. Its hot. 

I have become the person you warned me about

I was once warned not to embrace the “Bohemian lifestyle” because it was dangerous and degenerate. 

At the time, I pshawed it because it was in direct response to my decorating preferences.  Yes, the assorted pillows, the eclectic patterns and textures, the mix of vintage and personal art, baskets, candles, and various lighting types – all the doorway to debauchery and depravity!  

Firstly, I knew, that this person had no idea what bohemian even meant.  

(Below thanks to Wikipedia, BTW - paraphrased) Bohemianism  

Bohemianism is the practice of an unconventional lifestyle, often in the company of like-minded people and with few permanent ties. It involves musical, artistic, literary, or spiritual pursuits. Bohemian is a term for young artists and intellectuals with shared experiences of struggle and poverty, with an appreciation of friendship, idealization of art and contempt for money.  Subcultures are often referred to as "bohemian" in a figurative sense, especially (but by no means exclusively) if they show traits of a precariat.   

Precariat (!) another interesting word:  Precariat  In sociology and economics, the precariat is a neologism for a social class formed by people suffering from precarity, which means existing without predictability or security, affecting material or psychological welfare.  

Members of the precariat are only partially involved in labor and must undertake extensive unremunerated activities that are essential if they are to retain access to jobs and to decent earnings. Classic examples of such unpaid activities include continually having to search for work (including preparing for and attending job interviews), as well as being expected to be perpetually responsive to calls for "gig" work (yet without being paid an actual wage for being "on call").  The hallmark of the precariat class is the condition of lack of job security, including intermittent employment or underemployment and the resultant precarious existence.  This may sound like a dated term, something from the Industrial Revolution days, or the Great Depression.  But it is a very relevant term in the 21st century, directly linked with political developments including Brexit, Presidency of Trump, and the COVID 19 pandemic.  We have heard that “nowadays, there are not careers anymore, just jobs”.  Sometimes multiple jobs in order to make ends meet. Reports have shown that only one quarter of the population of so called civilized countries have enough funds at the end of the month for discretionary spending.  Living gig to gig.  Paycheck to Paycheck. 

I digress.  

I have come to the realization, that I am, in fact, living a bohemian lifestyle. Yes, financially – not such a favorable determination, I am proletariat.  I live paycheck to paycheck.  I have no discretionary spending.  This is fact.  However, my highest priority is not on my financial accomplishments.  Things that give me purpose and pleasure are books, films, music, and sex.  I have often times thought in the way that ‘things’ are not important. Experience, pleasure and relationships are.   (this is also a source of stress and struggle, because to survive in our world, we need money, even when we despise it)

This is dangerous and degenerate? Perhaps so to those addicted to commercialism and capitalism.  To go against what is expected , especially societal norms, is dangerous and degenerate.   (the person who warned me of this ‘lifestyle’ was/is , in fact, obsessed with image, and conforming to what is expected and ‘normal’) 

I have become the woman the woman I often fantasized about becoming, But it was a slow gradual evolution that I barely knew the journey was taking me there. But here I am. 

When I was about 15 or 16, I said I wanted to adopt a child or children.  A child who’s birth parent could not provide for them a safe and loving home.  –  The journey was more complicated than that, but here I am the proud adoptive mother of a beautiful, brilliant daughter. 

I have always known I was bisexual (since age 6 or 7) , and often when I was older would fantasize about being part of a sexual commune.  – The idea is more mature than a free-love brood, but I have a girlfriend and a boyfriend.  I am “ethically non-monogamous” and am active in the KINK community.   Sex and pleasure is important to me.  Not just my own pleasure, but those around me.  Love knows no bounds, it is eternal and connects us all.  

My boyfriend is an artist. Living gig to gig.  Proletariat.  Atheist.    

I live with my girlfriend, who is 17 years younger than me.  She also has her own boyfriend. 

I am surrounded by my books, my choice of music, my eclectic décor.   I have a black cat who eats my plants and demands cuddles with taps of her little paws.  My daughter is non-binary and pansexual, and a budding pagan.   

I am bohemian.  I am that lifestyle you warned me against.  And I am okay with that.   

 Walking around the empty paint ball field. It is fenced in. Workers swept it for people before they left. We've been here ever since. No one is in there. There is no chance that someone is in there. But as a woman. I am conditioned that when I walk around a new area, to be wary. To be afraid of a guy lurking in the corners. It's not paranoia. It is how we are raised and conditioned. This world is not safe for us. Men hunt us.

May 20, 2022

 That one time I dated this guy who was .... less than intelligent. But I didnt know it. He was really nice to look at. He had this great log cabin type home, rustic but beautiful. It had character. It did not, however have heat...but I digress. His house was decorated for Halloween, but in an adult sort of way, skulls and candelabras. I palmed the skull and made a Hamlet reference. But I always forget the skull's name (Yorick) and I tried to make conversation around that. He looked upon me as if I had 8 heads. You know, Hamlet? Shakespeare? His eyes remained vacant. "I never saw it." Or read it ... or...

He sure was pretty though.

July 5, 2022

 If I ever thought I could go without my anti-depression meds, I will remind myself of this week.  

I was out of said meds.  I can usually go 2 days - by the 2nd day, I start to experience withdrawal symptoms.  Of course the first couple of times, I didn't realize they were withdrawal symptoms.  Thank you Google:  fatigue, nausea, vertigo, mood swings and flu-like symptoms.  "FLU-LIKE" symptoms is a good way to describe it.  Just overall not feeling well.  

This wasn't the usual me waiting until last minute to pick them up - it was a combination of the meds being at the wrong pharmacy, and the fact that I didn't have the money to get them.  

I had literally $22 dollars in my bank account.  And my car was nearly on E.  It was Tuesday & Wednesday, and I get paid on Friday.  I dug up a $5 bill out of my purse to get a container of Milk.  I don't usually carry cash, but this was left over from something.  By the next night, day one of withdrawal, the physical symptoms were in full force.  For lack of a better term, its a general "I don't feel well" state.  But I've learned, I am not sick.  By day 2 - the mental affect was dire.  

Hopeless - thinking there is no release/relief.  There is no light at the end of the tunnel.  My life will always be this struggle.  

The thought that so many people have better lives, better circumstances.  and not a jealousy of that, but rather the fact that I am no different than any of those people.  But they made better choices in their life to get them where they are.  

this should be dated 5/12/2022 .... I'm ok now.  Refilled prescription and all that. 

Pretty sure no body is watching ... and that's fine

 Setting this blog up to get me motivated to write more often.  I had blogs before , but they were specific and themed - this is probably going to be a dear diary type thing.