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In case you missed it last time I posted it:
I just don’t recommend leaving it at your communal work printer for very long, because bills.
As I’ve mentioned, I started to really make friends in high school because everyone fits in somewhere. I mostly nerded out with the music department, but I also found a home with the ‘goth’ kids. Not emo, but goth – dark clothes, wallet chains, skulls, angry music, platform leather boots, and pants with legs you could fit two of your friends in. Because of my depression, I’ve always identified with the more macabre things in life and really found comfort in that crowd.
I often sat with the goth kids at lunch, usually with my best friend. For no apparent reason one day during our junior year, she told our friend Heidi that she should kiss me. I’d never kissed a girl before, but the idea didn’t actually sound terrible to me. Heidi had long, blonde hair, eyes as blue as the ocean, big tits, and a smile that warmed your soul. She’s absolutely gorgeous, so I didn’t exactly protest.
It’s halfway through the month, and we’re only days away from Spring in the Northern Hemisphere. Those of you in warmer climates haven’t been too affected; but the poor bastards (like me) who just had to dig our way out of Storm Stella in the Midwest and Eastern U.S. have just about had enough. We all need a little something to look forward to right now, so I figured it’s a great time to get my Anniversary Bash going.
Below is the Calendar of Carousal followed by descriptions of the events. Extra activities and giveaways will be added along the way, so subscribe or check back frequently to be notified of what has been released.
March 15 – Pot Pocket giveaway opens – enter here: Bash Giveaway #1: Pot Pocket – 6 Prizes!
16 – Reader Poll – What Ails You?
17 – ‘Firsts’ Story – It’s my First Anniversary Bash, so I figured I’d tell you stories about some of my ‘first times.’ This first true story is titled “I Kissed a Girl Who is a Guy.”
18 – Review: The Womanizer Pro 40 from Good Vibes – a toy for clitoral stimulation
20 – Chameleon Glass giveaway opens!
21 – Topic: Depression
22 – Review: Chameleon Glass Wake ‘n Bake Mug
23 – Review: Bucky King Co. – we’ll check out their pipes and portable gravity bong
24 – ‘Firsts’ Story
25 – Topic: Cannabis
27 – ‘Firsts’ Story
28 – Reader Poll
29 – #WednesdayWisdom: “Ask Ophelia” – I get a lot of questions, so I figured I’d tell you the answers
30 – Reader Poll – Bash Ends
Music has always been an extremely significant part of my life. From singing, to playing piano, to being a DJ, to having music playing almost constantly; it has always served an important purpose for me. It has gotten me through my worst times, and even my best times. If music didn’t exist, I’m positive the silence would kill me.
High school was a particularly difficult time for me. Between school itself, a strained relationship with my mother, and having already had a depressive childhood, I saw some of my darkest days in high school.
About a year ago, I sat in bed and cried into my bong while I sang Adele, and asked myself what the hell is wrong with me. If that sounds pathetic, it’s because it was. I was in an extremely bad place; so much so that if I didn’t find my way out of it, it was going to start affecting my life, marriage, and overall health. I decided then that there would be no more unexplained crying into my bong allowed, and that it’s time I get serious about attempting therapy. I understand most of what’s wrong with me, I just need some pointers on coping with it.
My depression began when I was nine years old after a series of traumatic events. I had always been a happy child who loved people, but everything seemed to change that year. I cried, I was sad, and I hung my head when I walked. I felt the change, and my parents saw it too. Depression started young for me, and while it comes and goes and mutates itself in hundreds of ways, I know it will probably always be a part of my life.
I’ve shared my depression stories with you here and there over the last year, and many of you have bravely come forward in response and commented or emailed me parts of your story as well. When we share our experiences with each other, it’s very therapeutic because it doesn’t fall on deaf ears. Depression makes us feel alone in a crowded room, so knowing that there are others who have seen the same lows that we have is extremely powerful. Seeing someone describe the same feelings you’ve experienced allows you to breathe for a minute and think, “OK – so I’m not that crazy.
So I’m opening up a forum for us to talk about depression. There are over 350,000,000 people affected by depression globally, and half of Americans with depression are seeking absolutely no treatment. People with depression are shunned, overlooked, and condemned to being called “lazy,” so talking about actual experiences seems uncommon.
It’s time we change that.
Remember playing Super Mario Brothers on your Nintendo? It’s still my favorite game, so I thought I’d find the online version to share with you.
Tweet or Instagram an old picture you’ve taken on a memorable vacation. It can be of you, scenery, or an interesting soup can you saw in an alley. I’m just looking for creativity/thought.
Music is a major part of my life, and some lyrics mean more to me than others. I often see imagery in my head when certain songs are playing and I really focus on the words, so I thought I’d recreate them here.
Blogging didn’t even exist yet when I was born in ’85, and shoddy dial-up Internet didn’t reach US homes until the 90’s. Growing up as an 80’s/90’s kid, you relied solely on books for information. If you wanted to learn or understand anything, yes, you had to go to this place called a ‘Library’ and scour through books (with no Ctrl-F) endlessly until you found what you were looking for. As you can imagine or have experienced, this is very time-consuming, and mostly unhelpful.
This practice was fine for book reports and learning about the Civil War, but as a developing adolescent there were only so many books for me about ‘What is this vagina thing?,’ ‘Oh-I own something called a G-spot?,’ and later in life, ‘My partners don’t make me orgasm so there’s probably something wrong with me, right?’ I remember sitting in the corner of a Barnes and Noble a few times growing up reading titles such as “Where Did I Come From?” and “What’s Happening to My Body?,” taking care to have a Highlights magazine keep the book hidden.
I got picked on a lot in my formative years for one thing or another, simply because children are ruthless. I was a good kid, I didn’t hurt anyone, and my heart was and still is enormous. But kids don’t see that, they see whatever they imagine. So I made friends in different cliques and tried to stay under the radar. In seventh grade boys weren’t terribly interested in girls yet – and only the popular ones if they were – so I had very platonic interactions with them, if that.
One in particular seemed to enjoy harassing me, especially if he was in front of other people. He really was just that piece of shit, asshole kid who isn’t popular but acts like a dick to be noticed. He never had anything nice to say to me, so I pretty much avoided him.
Thoughts With a Dildo in Hand has existed in my mind for a couple of years now, and I finally released it to the world just over one year ago. For my first anniversary, I’m throwing a month-long virtual bash in your honor. After all – I’d just be talking to myself if I didn’t have my faithful readers.
To celebrate, I’ll be reviewing some awesome products and giving away a bunch more. I’ll be sharing personal stories of other ‘firsts’ I’ve had, and have other fun things to do too. There will also be llamas.
I tend to watch comedies because there’s already a substantial amount of drama and action in my life and I desperately need the comedy to round it out. My husband likes history too, so we’ve been watching this ridiculous comedy on Hulu called Quickdraw. Despite paying actual currency for a Hulu Plus membership, you’re still subjected to watching a slew of ads – usually 3 at a time. I typically spend that time wondering what the heck I’m really paying for anyway.