Disengaged Woman

bitching to myself.

Wednesday is Rib Night at Ikea November 3, 2009

Filed under: Frustrations,Whatever else — Auma Afton @ 9:27 pm
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1. I thought I might send something to Mr. B over Christmas. I want to send zucchini bread, but it seems like it might not work. I did a lot of research, and found a recipe that complied with all the suggestions, such as not using butter or margarine, or brown sugar. I’ve been conducting an experiment to see if it molds sitting in tin foil and a plastic bag for 3 weeks, and I’m very of excited to look at it next Wednesday!

I’m also sending, regardless, one or two guitar player magazines that had interesting articles, and that he may like to play the exercises in, and a CD. I tried very hard to leave off the mushy songs, but suddenly, and for the first time, I’m incapable of not being gooey and in love.¬† Bah.

Otherwise, he’s been unreachable for 2.5 weeks, and I miss him a lot. He said 2 weeks to a month at first, then whittled down to 2 weeks by the time he left, so I don’t know whether to be worried or just accept that the organization has a mind of its own, and will do whatever it pleases with whoever it pleases regardless of me, though really it should be me they consult on their every move, because I’m sure I know better.

2. I’ve been watching Desperate Housewives and Supernanny. I love the vindictiveness, and I laugh when the little kids back-talk. I’ve been awfully bored.

3. Went to Ikea for the first time. Today is rib night! It was fun to wander around, because it’s large and confusing, and i felt like it would never end and that I was always walking inward, and therefore was amazed when it ended and I was on an outer edge of the building. I want all of the rooms. But it was quite exhausting to look at them all. In the end, I found a chair down an aisle of the self-serve furniture area, and sat for forty minutes with the vague hope that someone I came with would eventually wander by, and might carry me to the car.


Me and my stupid problems September 16, 2009

1. I introduce to you: Mr. B. He likes me just the way I am, I know, because I haven’t been anything but myself around him.

2. This is unnerving. Because I’m not doing anything specifically to make him like me. I do nothing, and he likes me, and I feel like I have no control over the situation, and that makes anxious.

3. In the past, I’ve been able to pin point the things I’ve done that seemed to make a guy like me, because they were things I didn’t normally do. I was a slightly different person with everyone, and I could easily point out what made each person different.

But here I am, totally, vulnerably, myself. I don’t even know how that happened, it wasn’t like I have gone into all these relationships thinking “this is the person I’m going to be.” I just become someone, inadvertently, and end up keeping at it because I feel like I ought to be consistent. And then for some reason, this time, I just did the things that I would do, said the things that I would say, was quiet when I would be, and loud when I would be, and was unabashedly dorky and stupid, and lo and behold, I was not thrown from a great height in disgust.

4. It’s great to see, in black and white, how very little control I have over my actions.

5. The word “ought” should be used more often in US.


Yes, I’m terrible at my job. Thanks for asking.

Filed under: 1,Frustrations — Auma Afton @ 12:37 pm
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1. People who hear about what I do and ask me if I’m any good at it.
“Oh, is that what you do? Are you the type who does it crappily or do you do it the way I want you to do it? Let me tell you about the time I had a bad experience with someone who did the same job as you.”

2. My favorite time was when I told my dentist, and he immediately shoved both of his hands into my mouth and bitched a 20 minute monologue about his experiences with “my sort,”, giving me no chance to respond or stand up for myself. His complaints involved him having to do things such as walk 4 extra feet, and I have to say, maybe it’s good I couldn’t respond, because I’ve noticed him getting pudgier each time I go in for a cleaning, and I may have had to comment. It’s always best not to insult those about to poke your gums with pointy metal things.

3. At least I do my endless bitching in such a way that people can stop reading if they don’t want to listen to me anymore.


Well punch me in the balls and call me Nancy.

Filed under: Frustrations — Auma Afton @ 3:04 am
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1. I met my friend’s new boyfriend the other day. I ring the doorbell. My friend’s brother answers, obviously thrown by my presence. “Hey. oh, hey…” he says, confused. I smile, and say I’m here to see my friend.¬† he says “…okay..” and graciously invites me to walk through the door. I wait in the front entrance, hear him announce that as everyone has probably figured out, I’m here. I hear my friend tell new boyfriend he should probably put some clothes on. She comes out to the front entrance and tells me about some of her medical problems.

2. We played Catan, a game which sounded horribly complicated and for only the greatest, most comprehending minds of our generation until I actually played it, at which point I learned it was overly simple and fun only in the sense that anytime anybody asked someone to trade and the other person said “no,” new boyfriend would burst out laughing, making the entire event pretty jovial. Can an event be jovial?

3. New boyfriend soon enough lost a billion points by holding out the plastic wrapped package of cards to me, and saying “do you have nails sweetheart?” Sweetheart? “Um…no?” I reply confidently, checking to make sure, while simultaneously and accidentally taking the cards. I spend the next 20 minutes trying to unwrap them.

4. The cards are finally unwrapped and we’re playing. New boyfriend randomly refers to me as “sweetheart” and “love” and each time I feel it is more off-putting and degrading. He is not calling his girlfriend anything. This leads me to feel that his intent is pure degradation. Still I say nothing. Why do I not say anything?

5. Friend gets up to check her phone. Comes back and tells me she just now got my text that I was coming over. Friend’s brother exclaims delightedly¬† “you didn’t know she was coming over?” He finally has proof that I am just one giant uninvited inconvenience. I say, indignantly, “She ASKED me to come over.” Friend’s boyfriend backs me up and gains back 2 of his 300 billion lost points.

6. Very mature and coherent things I thought of to say after I left:

“Can I punch you in the balls and call you Nancy? No? Then stop calling me sweetheart.”

“Thanks, honeybunch.” *cough cough*

“Do you have nails sweetheart?”
“[my name].”
“[my name]. Please call me [my name]. Dickhead.”

I think the best idea, next time, is to just tell him to call me by my real name. And leave out the dickhead.