I haven't touched a laptop since I packed up Friday afternoon to visit Matt and his family... The past few days have been eventful, to say the least. I got on the train a bit late on Friday (for safety's sake it's preferred that I'm on the train by 5pm). And then the bus was a little late... But I got there on time. We watched the final disc of True Blood Season 3.  What a mind-trip. And so dark, dark, dark. Then some serious discussion time with Matt and a phone call with a friend. Serious times. I think I finally crawled into bed around 4am.

Because of the late night, Matt and I didn't get up early to prepare for our trip to the beach, Ohio Street Beach which opens at 11am. We only got up around 11am, something like that, to his brother telling us breakfast was ready. Which it wasn't, completely, but we helped set the table and all that while waiting for the gravy to be done. Yummy biscuits...

Then, afterwards, we readied our stuff. Matt did most of the work, finding the beach blanket, the beach chairs, the umbrella, the Frisbee, preparing the food, etc...

The last time we took a trip to the beach, on July 4th, it went horribly. We were suppose to meet one of my former high school friends and some of her friends up in Evanston, where we didn't know where the beach was or parking situation. We got there, we walked a lot of blocks with our heavy cooler, and my phone didn't get reception. >_< I used Matt's phone but I kept getting my friend's voice mail after several rings. OH MY GOODNESS, I felt so worried and guilty and tense, because it was my friend we were going to meet and the meet-up didn't happen successfully. Turns out she had forgotten her phone back where she's staying and so she had to use one of her friend's smartphones to look up my number in a Facebook message to her. I had called Matt's brother to ask him to pick us up, then I had to call him back and cancel it after he was already a few blocks away (couldn't go further because of roadblocks). My former schoolmates and her friends were way late, too.... It was awkward, tense. The fireworks were a nice show, but it still left a bitter taste in our mouths... It was a very tense situation.

Yesterday's beach adventure was suppose to make for the crap-show the 4th of July was. It did not.

We got on the highway fine, but then the GPS started getting all weird. Ohio Street Beach is given the address of 400 N. Lake Shore Dr n the Chicago Park District official website - though it's not on Google Maps by itself - and then it directed us to the middle of the highway. We're not familiar with the area and how to get underneath or beside the highway. Parking was horrendous. We went around and around for more than an hour? We finally got a parking spot in a parking building near Navy Pier, got a taxi and asked him to take us to Oak Street Beach, but then we noticed Ohio Street Beach was on the map so he dropped us off nearby. We had to walk a bit to find it.

That was around 5:45pm. The beach closes at 7pm. We left the house around...3:30pm? And it takes about 45 minutes to get there, by GPS and traffic. The remaining time was just...going around and around. We were very frustrated and tense... But we found it, in the end.

Ohio Street Beach is much smaller than North Ave Beach. It's at the end of Pfc Milton Olive Park. It's not on Google Maps, even, Ohio Street Beach. Anyhoo, because it's smaller there are no changing facilities on the beach. I had to walk all the way to Navy Pier to change - long line for the bathroom, with only 3 stalls - and then I had to walk back to the beach wearing only my bikini with nothing to cover me... It was a little embarrassing. (The dress I wore beforehand was too tight for me to wear over my bikini.) Stupid me didn't bring my phone with me so I couldn't let Matt know I was okay since I was gone for a while...

But...yeah...we set up the blanket, the chairs, got out the food and water... I got back to the beach at 6:15pm and we spent about half an hour in the water. That was nice... The lake really accentuated the height difference between Matt and I. He walked so far away from me before only his head showed above the water. A few times he dropped me in my height water but I was so clumsy I fell over anyway. :P And inhaled water.

( Ill feeling, fridge broke down )

9 minutes

Thanks... Nice to know I "don't seem like a slut."





If you want to read the rest of it here, cool. He does question this rationally. I don't know if he got heated up on his own end, and that he had better control over how he phrased words and and stuff than me.

I was upset from the first comment of his of me not seeming like a slut, and then, and then, him asking abut females wearing "unnecessarily tempting" clothes. I know, I know he agrees and states several times that it is the man's fault for assaulting the female and not hte victim's fault -- it seems we're generalizing about males assaulting females, at least until the end -- but that whole "temptation" thing just...reeks, still, implicitly of blaming the female. And it reminds me of how I was raised. How I had to watch what I wore in case I tempted men, in case I made them think thoughts.

I'd agree there are times where people can be blamed for the type of thoughts they cause others to think -- primarily emotional abuse comes to mind -- and a few times my answers were simplistic but still, just...to think that, say that, ask that...

( Rest of the chat )

And yeah, probably there are statistically more male rapists/sxual assauterls than female ones, but I got confused near the end if we were talking adult-adult or also cindluing children. I know i didn't end hte chat on arational note but...gah. I know it's likely others will read the chat and think I'm really overreacting and that he brings up good points or that he didn't raise his opniionions like an asshole douche and my feelings are blinding me to that. To be fair, he is a little on the conservative side, which is no surpsrised this reminded me of my aprents and how I was raised.

But I sitll feel even if a man's thoughts suddenly veer towards sexually thinking about a woman and that was her intent (because a lot of the times a woman wearing a sundress with a little cleavage doesn't want men to think of her that way or it doesn't even enter her mind but she just want st o dress lightly in the weather), why should that matter?

I know when we're angry our filter between thoughts and mouth can get really porous. (I think it's harder to forgive someone for hurting you and insulting you when they've actually thought it through.)

I also know that most people react very badly when they think they're being emotionally manipulated or blackmailed or threatened or given an ultimatum.

I got reminded of something when I looking up old emails with someone. I was trying to find a link they had sent about their volunteer work and found part of the following email. For some reason, until I reread this email, I had completely forgotten Nathaniel, in a response to thinking I was threatening him with cutting myself unless he kept his promises, told me to "fucking cut [myself] you bitch".

I don't like emotional blackmail, doing it or being a recipient of it. I had hoped I would keep my issues down enough that my partner wouldn't feel that way or that they'd give me enough credit to at least try to tell me if they're upset even though they know I don't respond very well to stressful situations. 2008 was the year I got sick, couldn't keep down food and lost weight to 79lbs. It took me the winter break between 2008 and 2009 to weigh more than 90lbs. I can see it from the other person's perspective, too. That even if the mentally ill/mentally unstable person didn't explicitly threaten, you're aware of the risk of saying something they're not quite ready to handle with but you can't hold in anymore and they react in a self-harming way so sometimes you censor yourself. But you also don't want to be held hostage to it.

I got really upset when I read the email I wrote my friend and the chat log (I use AIM through GMail). I called Matt and asked him if he'd ever felt like I was emotionally blackmailing him or he felt pressured or threatened or obligated in any way due to my self-harm. He said he's aware that I've gotten back to self-harming in moments of high distress, how can he not be aware of it, but also that he doesn't spare me. We had a big argument Saturday night - spent hours on the phone - and he said he didn't spare me then and he thinks I would have been insulted if I knew he was thinking of sparing me or have in the past. I would have, if I had known. He said he was aware of the risk that I may cut during/after the argument (not going to lie, I thought about it) but we had to fight out the issue. We're fine now and he's coming up tomorrow. :) But, yes, I'm glad he didn't spare me.

We've had several low blows in our 2-year relationship but nothing to that degree, I think, where we really prick into the other's sensitivities and vulnerabilities. We both can use sarcasm. It may still come and slip out. And if it does, well, I know that'd really hurt. It hurts anytime. But I really hope, even in the red-hot moment of rage, that I'd have enough self-control to not reach in that bag of "really really sensitive stuff almost to the point of unforgivable or forgivable only after a looooong time." Or I'd even forget what his sensitivities were and just fight about whatever we were fighting and try to put the blame all on his side. >_<

( Way back in February 2008 )

(973): I'm watching CSI, they found semen in the woman's ear.
(1-973): Guess she heard her killer coming

I had to groan when I read that. But it's pretty good, off the cuff.

( 3 C's )

From this article which is an excerpt from a book. I've never seen an episode of Bravo TV's "The Millionaire Matchmaker." So I don't know how reliable she is.


But this seems common sense. Or perhaps that's just hindsight and experience talking. I think when I was younger, I didn't give much heed to the communication part about resolving arguments or being able to state your feelings without feeling judged. And some parts of compatibility. I think I assumed if we can talk on the phone for hours about likes and dislikes, that ease will automatically apply to all types of communication we need, including deeper things. Hmmm.