Author Archives: Krissy Gibbs

About Krissy Gibbs

Just your average hippy white trash incest survivor stay at home mom. Is there an average for us? No? Oh well.

Hard but worth it.

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Don’t you hate those fucking Opportunities for Growth? They really suck. Sometimes they really really hurt in the moment. Sometimes you just want to say, fuck this. Feeling this way can’t be reasonable.

But it isn’t about the feelings be reasonable. Are the bad feelings fixable? Can you look at the problem and say, “What is it that I am missing/needing here?” Maybe it is going to hurt like a son of a bitch, but just maybe it will be worth it. Maybe they are worth it. Maybe. Gotta try though. Just have to.

I love my Debbie

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She talks at about 300 words per minute. She often moves at the same basic speed. And when she is busy talking in a bizarre mix of Chinese (Mandarin) and English it is even more spastic.

She is one of my oldest and dearest friends. She is wonderful. A bigger pain in the ass I have never met–she outstrips japlady any day of the week and twice on Sunday for driving me crazy. It’s great. And she blows through town once or twice a year and expects me to drop any and everything I am doing to see her, and I always do.

Right now she is deciding which of my boys she is going to borrow tonight. I think she is the only female I have ever met who is on par for my sexual voracity and openness. We compare numbers and lists of boys the way some of my friends compare book titles. It’s fun. I have given her dozens of recommendations on each boy. We are waiting until they get home before she actually decides which she is going to borrow tonight. How often does one get to do something like this? Hell, I’m secretly hoping we find out the capacity of our bed. She’s a lot of fun. 🙂

Edit about 20 minutes later: more reason to love Debbie.

“You know what? Why bother picking one? Why don’t we all just swing?”

YAY!!!!

Brain gurggling.

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The tat seems to be doing much better than expected. It isn’t painful anymore but it is INCREDIBLY sensitive. It’s kind of nifty.

Thanks to a fabulous girl in the city I am reading, The Devil Wears Prada and loving it greatly. Yay.

Tonight I get to introduce one of my oldest friends to my boys and that should be fun. Hell, it will be great to see her. I think it has been a year this time. (She works on a cruise ship so I don’t see her much.)

I am having a real hard time making nice in a few places and I want to scream and punch people. Not necessarily the people I don’t want to deal with, just someone as a stand in to let out frustration. I’m not actually angry at the people I don’t want to deal with it’s just… complicated.

I am so angry with the city-centrists that I would like to say fuck you to all of them and stop going to anything in the city, ever. If you are so fucking selfish that ONE GOD DAMN TIME you won’t come to my house then fuck all of you fucking fucks. saljid;ljksdfljk;sdflj;kdsfljk;

Damn me and my unrealistic expectations. I need to stop looking at someone and saying, “I want you to do ‘x'” when I know they only signed up for ‘y’. *sigh*

I keep having nightmares about showing up on the first day of school without a syllabus. I feel so woefully unprepared for my whole life right now.

I have procrastinated the shit out of about a dozen things right now and I don’t know why. Normally I would be unpacked already, even with my busy schedule. I can’t seem to force myself to do it. I don’t know where the block is coming from. I haven’t sat down and made a budget. I haven’t started looking for a contractor. I haven’t dealt with my car. Just the thought of what I need to do makes me want to break down in tears.

I need to find some vicodin before my next tat appointment. Uhm… anyone?

Is it unreasonable for me to hide in my room and cry all day just out of anxiety and frustration? I don’t want to do all the things I need to do. I don’t want to think about having do deal with all of the people I have to deal with. I’m really tired of thinking about the people. Why can’t I just declare that I don’t like someone and not deal with them? Oh yeah. Social groups don’t work that way. *sigh*

The pretty, the spiritual, and the ouchie.

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All in one. Isn’t that convenient. So a while back I started talking about how I thought that I was moving towards being ready to get a tattoo and because I had in my head a picture of what I wanted. Well, here is the start of it: http://people.tribe.net/justsomegirl/photos/0984ce8e-c235-4542-b889-1d77d41e4c57

Ok, the story:
It’s a girl standing in front of a willow tree that happens to be bearing apples. Stay with me for a bit. The willow tree is meant to represent one that grew in front of the house my family lived in when I was about 9. That is when my brother had just been released from the hospital after being in a coma for a long time and going through minimal rehabilitation before he was shunted off to permanent live-in facilities. During this period my brother spent a lot of his time trying to kill me because he hated me for being normal. He had a traumatic brain injury the likes of which rarely manages to survive at all, let alone recover to the degree he did. But he was never “normal”. He had ataxia (spel?) which means that his entire body shook at all times and due to the trachiotamy (spel?) he didn’t speak in anything resembling a normal fashion. He really hated me. So I would climb into that tree and cry. My mother was rarely home because she worked long hours trying her very best to keep a roof over our heads. My sister was about 22 and had a very young child (

So there is a girl standing in front of a tree. A tree that has all the meaning in the world to me. A tree that in many ways saved my soul, and maybe even my life some days as Tommy chased me with knives. The girl in the picture is me, but specifically also not me. She is just a girl. She is someone who is also searching. Around her legs are brambles that have cut her legs. In the brambles are the things she has had to work through: hate, anger, and self-doubt. In the tree, attached to the apples (I actually didn’t 100% intend the Garden of Eden imagery it just kind of happened) are banners that will show what she is working so hard to get to. She is reaching for a fruit that bears the word, “forgive”. Others in the tree are: hope, love, trust, faith, and lust because these are all things I want in my life more than I can say. They aren’t things that are easy to reach for. In fact, I have to work very hard but it is worth all the pain and discomfort the process entails. She is naked because she no longer has shame. There is nothing behind her that she is going to hide herself from in any way.

There is hope ahead.

So that’s the story behind this tattoo. Today while I was getting it I discovered that I had no fucking clue how much such a thing was going to hurt. OHMYGOD. And I process pain in two basic ways, I make noise or I move around a lot. Guess what I can’t do while getting a tattoo? Yeah, no moving. So this left crying and yelling out my agony. This was fine for the first part as my artist had wanted me to come in before shop hours because he is leaving town this afternoon. When people started arriving for their day their hostility and irritation were palpable in the air. They yelled back more than once, “When are you going to be done with this one?” and one woman when walking by stated, “No one else would put up with this crap.” It is my nightmare come true to have people be angry with me for processing pain in the only way I know how. This is something I have some serious baggage about. So I started crying nearly hysterically because I had to be silent and that lead to some really deep emotional pain on top of the physical pain. We stopped early. That is why there is no ink on the top part of my back. I couldn’t work through the pain in such a hostile environment. We have agreed that all of my future work will start hours before the shop opens so that there will be no disapproval in the air. He is a fabulous artist and I am really glad I chose him, but his co-workers kind of suck. When we were done and I was crying and crying he held me close and stroked my hair and told me that it’s ok to cry. It’s ok to let out pain. I really like him. He sees my fight against being honest with my pain. I’m glad that if I am going to have continued agony it will be with him guiding me through it.

memeage

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(Click here to post your own answers for this meme.)

× I miss somebody right now.  (I miss many people) ✓ I don’t watch much TV these days.  (Shoot your tv.) ✓ I own lots of books.
✓ I wear glasses or contact lenses. × I love to play video games. ✓ I’ve tried marijuana.
✓ I’ve watched porn movies. × I have been the psycho-ex in a past relationship.  (Define psycho…) ✓ I believe honesty is usually the best policy.  (ALWAYS)
✓ I curse sometimes. ✓ I have changed a lot mentally over the last year. × I carry my knife/razor everywhere with me.

it goes on…

Evil speaketh its name

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And it is… Procrastination.

I swear to god I have made a lot of progress today. It’s just not super easy to see because I am a dork and I get stuck in small details. *sigh* I went over to Ikea today looking for a few specific things and then realized that I didn’t know what sizes/colors I needed so the trip was kind of silly. But I wandered around and got ideas. Then I went to Target for big plastic containers. I didn’t buy too many because I wasn’t sure how things were going to shake out. I came home and realized I need a bunch more. S’ok. Buying more is easier than returning stuff I don’t need.

Cleaning house is a pain when I don’t want to do much with Noah’s stuff without him around. I don’t yet actually feel comfortable just going through his stuff without him present. I’m sure I’ll get over it. 🙂 But at Target, in honor of telling Noah that I would actually marry him (so far I’ve been saying maybe) I bought a wedding organizer and promptly almost had a panic attack. Jesus Christ. Am I actually doing this?! Looks like I am. Alright. Suck it up and get through it. (For the record: the scary part is the wedding, I’m looking forward to being married.) So now I am procrastinating mightily because I just pissed off my back by trying to move the monstrous filing cabinet without help. Sometimes my impatience is counter productive.

Things to deal with in the next few months:
Start actual wedding plans.
Remodel the house.
Put together at least two more unit plans before the start of school so that I walk in with a full year plan for juniors and a good start on… whatever else they give me. (WHOO HOOO! Just checked work email. I have three classes of Juniors and two classes of comp/lit. They are the low performing/behavior problem kids. I’m really excited! No really–I asked for them. 🙂
Get ready for Burning Man.
Am I helping organize TNG4?! Scary thought. It’s been brought up and discussions are starting… that will be decided in the next month probably.
Oh dear lord. I think that is going to be enough to eat my brain for the next year. Good thing I’m plucky!

(Travel stuff coming soon… I swear.)

Just thought I would say

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Today is Independence Day. Probably the most impact that has on me is simply that Thomas Jefferson was an amazing writer and I am thinking about the fact that I want to go find a few more books with essays by him. I may or may not watch fireworks; I don’t really care one way or another.

This last weekend was very interesting. I went to a con and took a lot of classes that really made me think. I didn’t play much, but what play I did was SOOPER HAWT!!! Very exciting. Even more exciting was calling my Noah right before the second bit of play and having him laugh and tell me to go have fun. I really love my boy.

So after the conference and the lots of thinking I started being all insecure and off-kilter. I got to talk to my Spot for a long time and I felt a bit better about that interaction but my Noah was off being all social like and for a little bit I had a hard time with that. But me being me when he asked if I was ok I said I was fine. Him being him he called me when he got home even though it was massively late cause he seems to be able to smell it when I lie.

We had a hard and scary conversation. We talked about feeling vulnerable and afraid to trust one another with some big things that are close to our hearts. It was really really hard. I’m having to look at the fact that even though I trust him more than anyone else in the world I don’t know if I trust him enough yet. This weekend I had to look at how much a few things with Tom really hurt my self-worth and ability to trust someone in some very specific ways. I hadn’t really been aware of how bad that trust damage was until this weekend when I tried to talk about that stuff. But I told him that he had to shut up for a while (dude, it’s Noah) and I let out this outpouring of scary stuff about what I want versus stuff that I’m afraid are needs and how scared I am to really go after things that I think may be needs. He listened, and more importantly: I think he heard me.

I’m still scared. And I miss him so much I ache inside. I don’t get to see him for seven more days and those days feel like they will last 3,000 years. I told someone about seven months ago, “If anything like this would ever work for me it would work with Noah” thinking that I would never get this shot. But I have it.

Please God, let me not fuck this up.

Postcards and phone calls and mess, oh my!

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Ok, if you see this post you need to send me your address today in an email. PLEASE assume I don’t have it. (Hard drive crashes, rebuilds not happening… all suck.) If you have an email, use whatever you have. If you haven’t got one: this nick @ livejournal DOT com works. 🙂

And a request: I’m going to be sending little pieces of travelogue to different people in postcards. It would be really cool if people would copy that portion onto their lj with a tag: Krissy’s travelogue. 😀 How’s that for a meme? When I get back I will cut’n’paste the stuff I sent to everyone and put it all in a big nifty piece for me to keep. 🙂 Perty please!

Yay!

*bounce*

Oh, and I plan to be off-line for the next three weeks. I plan to check email no more than once a week (it will mean I actually go do things) so even when I do check it I probably won’t respond. I won’t be checking lj or anything at all so if you want me to see something eventually shoot me an email with the link and I’ll make sure I check it when I get home.

Additional note: this whole going offline thing is hard and scary for me. For the first 9 days I really am going to be on my own as the NY people I know may not really be up for much. Phone calls would be great. If you think of me and want to say hi: just call and say that. I would really appreciate feeling loved sporadically throughout the trip. In case you don’t have it, my number is: 408-202-4083. If you call I will give you a suuuuuuper detailed description of what I am looking at so that you can feel like you are with me. 🙂

Oh! And! If you come over to the house to see Noah, please ignore the mess. I have had about three days to unpack and I just haven’t been able to get much done. 🙁

A quick babble

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I had a lovely weekend. I got to spend some time with multiple really awesome people. Snuggly time. Time walking and talking with a really terrific girl. Time driving around admiring houses with another spiffy girl. Lots and lots of Noah time–not enough, but that is the state of my life right now.

This weekend it was pointed out to me that my level of social connectedness is highly unusual. What a strange thought. Me? Have lots of friends? Whatever happened to the prophesy that no one would ever like me because I am such an awful person? Guess mom was wrong again. 🙂

I’m looking at a beautiful bouquet of roses. I’m glancing around my messy living room and deciding how I want to clean it today. How I want to paint it next month. What I think it will look like in 5 years.

I am so very happy.

Hey everyone!

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Clicky on this link and pass it along. I am so about encouraging this kind of thing.

http://www.pleasemakethiswork.com/

(The story is: this guy made a website and if he gets 5 million hits his girlfriend will participate in a threesome. I’m so into this idea. heh. The site is overall worksafe though there is a little video where they talk about it a bit. No indecent pictures or anything.)

Hey! Cool!

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A friend posted his grades today and that prompted me to think about mine.

Not too sucky! Yay!

Twentieth Century Poetry: A
Seminar in Performance Culture: A-
Seminar in the History of Rhetoric: A-

Now, if only they didn’t subtract for -s. Damnit. Only a 3.8.

But my overall GPA at this school is 3.54. This isn’t superb, but it’s respectable.