Thursday, December 23, 2010


I’m going to be away from the internet for a while. Possibly a very long while. I’m constantly being reminded of people that I’ve removed from my life, and that’s not good for me. It’s frustrating seeing guys play the same game over and over and seeing girls fall for it each and every time. Especially when they played the same game with me and I fell for it. Even more so when these girls don’t listen to what I tell them, then they get mad at me when they realize that they made a poor choice in continuing to talk to those guys. It’s just awful, and I know that when I get back on the internet, things will still be the same, but, hopefully, I’ll have come to my senses by then and severed all ties between me and those people. If you would like to stay in contact, message me on Facebook or Twitter and I’ll give you my number ot AIM screename. Whichever. As long as you’re not a creeper.

Stay Gold.

Comments are closed for this post.

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Gotta Keep Your Face Up

After reading Allison's Tumblr post earlier, I was sort of inspired to open up about something that I've never told anyone about. I have Asperger's. Moderate, but active. I function more efficiently than most of those affected by it, but it still controls everything that I do. Einstein had Asperger's and look where it got him. Same goes for Woody Allen, Beethoven, Alexander Graham Bell, Bob Dylan, Thomas Edison, Bobby Fischer, Henry Ford, Alfred Hitchcock, Thomas Jefferson, Carl Jung, Mozart, Andy Warhol, and so many other people who we, today, see as geniuses, innovators, and idols to the masses. My IQ is 193. I stutter. I know all 743 of my contacts' phone numbers by heart. I have no social skills. I'm okay with all of this, because this? This is my life. Welcome to it.

Comments have been left open for this post. Feel free to leave a comment, anonymous or otherwise, below.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Celebrity Spank Bank Part Deux: Guys & Dolls

Part two of my Celebrity Spank Bank. Part one can be found here.

Aishwarya Rai
She’s pretty much the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

Johnny Messner

Mike Ness
The first musician that I ever had a crush on. lol

Chris O’Donnell
I want to make babies with this dude.

Brandon Barash
I first saw him on General Hospital. Then, I saw him in my dreams. haha But seriously. Adorable!

Layla Allman
This girl is the next badass “it” girl. Ferfuckinsher.

Rick Yemm
The world’s most adorable badass. lol

David Boreanaz
Um. Yeah. So… :D

James Deen
How adorable is he? And his dong is reasonably sized, so it’s a win-win for me. XD

Daniela Ruah
Holy legs. She’s so cute, too.

Ian Nelson
Guy next door/James Deen look-alike. Another win-win.

Marshall Allman
Oh, LJ.

Greg Vaughan
He was/kinda still is my dream man. I didn’t put him in part one for reasons that I included in it, but I decided to put him in part two, just because.

Zooey & Emily Deschanel
These girls. Ohmahgootness.

Shia LaBeouf
I don’t understand my infatuation with him. lol

Rachel McAdams

Sofia Vergara
She’s fucking hot. Fuck.Ing.Hot.

Eric Dane
Oh, McSteamy.

Jessica Szohr
*shrugs* She’s just pretty.

Freida Pinto
*shrugs again* She’s pretty, too.

Mariska Hargitay
I want to be this woman.

Christina Aguilera
Talented. Beautiful. Amazing.

Sean Foreman
Yep. haha

Conan O'Brien
Strictly with a beard.

Julie Benz
Mostly as a brunette.

Michael C. Hall

KiD CuDi
This dude. This.Dude.

Sherilyn Fenn

Alberto Del Rio
lol I couldn’t decide between these two pictures. (Thanks to Allie for both of them.)

Jason Ritter

Zachary Quinto
I’d hit that. Obviously.

Stay Gold.

Comments have been left open for this post. Feel free to leave a comment, anonymous or otherwise, below.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Broken Machine

Ten Things That Have Happened Since My Last Blog:
-I made amends with my sister.
-My self-esteem hit an all time low.
-I headed an NA meeting.
-I finished my first semester of college.
-I got to spend time with someone I hadn’t seen in almost two years.
-I cried. A lot. Most of the time, it was for stupid reasons.
-I opened up to someone for the first time in a very long time.
-I grew the fuck up.
-I saw my dad truly happy, for the first time in my life.
-I fought the law, and the law won. Just kidding. I won.

Five Things That I’ve Realized Since My Last Blog:
-I’m awful at disciplining children.
-I spend too much time worrying about things that will probably never happen.
-I can carry four babies at the same time.
-I put too much of my heart into everything that I do.
-I’m the loneliest motherfucker on Earth.

Two Things That I Want You To Know:
-I‘ve gone to the emergency room three times in the last week.
-I love you for reading this.

Stay Gold.

Comments have been left open for this post. Feel free to leave a comment, anonymous or otherwise, below.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

It Gets Better [The Blog Version]

I was going to make an It Gets Better video, but my clarity is much more precise when I'm writing, not talking. So, this is me doing my small part in the It Gets Better movement. To steal a quote from Meghan Tonjes, who stole it from Joss Whedon: "Others can't see your pain. because they're too busy drowning in their own." That was my problem for a very long time. I was too caught up in my own problems to give a damn about anyone else's. My home life was unsatisfying. I couldn't have cared less about anyone else. Everything was about me and all the things that I was going through. I didn't know what empathy was. I still have a hard time with it. I knew what love was. I knew that my family loved me and that I loved them. I knew that, no matter what, they'd be there. But that didn't stop me from making some awful decisions.

When I was ten years old, I had my first sexual experience, and it was with a girl who happened to be my best friend. She started telling people, and those people told people, and so on and so on, until everyone knew. Then, all anyone wanted to do was fix me. The problem is, I wasn't broken. I was coming into myself, and I was doing it in a way that made a lot of people hate me. I was called every name you could think of, and then some. I never told anyone to stop, so it kept going. All through middle school, I was teased. Freshman year of high school, we moved here, to Texas. The night before my first day of school here, I swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills, along with 30 Roxies. I was done. I couldn't take it anymore. i couldn't imagine being reamed the way I had been, in a new school. I went to bed expecting to die. I didn't want to wake up. I didn't want to have to worry about who knew what or who was telling who what. The next morning, I woke up. I woke up as though it were any other day. I tossed the pill bottles in the garbage and went on with my life, never telling a soul what I had tried to do. I started school and fell back into my cycle. I slept with everyone: teachers, principals, classmates. Hell, I even got the captain of the varsity football team. More than once, too. Not to mention the cheerleaders. Word got around that I got around, with girls, guys, and whoever the hell else I could get my hands on. Then, the teasing and snarky remarks began again.

In English class one day, I walked in on a huge debate as to whether I was bisexual or just a plain ol' lesbian. They had pretty much decided that it was the latter. I never told anyone otherwise, so nobody knew any better than to believe what others told them. I stopped caring about what they were saying and started caring about me. Sure, I got around, so this isn't the best It Gets Better story ever, but it's got the same gist to it. Once I stopped worrying about what people thought of me, I became a different person. I was glad to be who I was, and I am glad to be who I am. I'm glad that I didn't die that night, because had I, I wouldn't be content with everything in my life. I wouldn't be here right now, telling you that if you want to be with a girl, go for it, and if you want to be with a guy, go for it. It doesn't matter what you do or who you do it with. You can't be comfortable externally if you're not comfortable internally. Love yourself and everything that you are. Don't let other people define you. Adages and clichés exist for a reason. You can't love someone else until you love yourself. Do that and you can do anything.

Stay Gold.

Any feedback about this post can be sent to using the subject line "It Gets Better [The Blog Version]."

Friday, October 29, 2010

This Smells Like Katrina De Voort

Every time I mention my OCD, I get a lot of questions. Some are ignorant, but some are genuine. I want to help you understand this disorder, as it affects me. I don’t know how it affects other people, so don’t take this as insight into OCD as a whole. This is my story. Short, sweet, and to the damn point.

I was diagnosed with OCD when I was eight years old. It started with me touching things twice, constantly counting to four, and grouping things into even numbers. Over the years, it’s done nothing but get worse, according to the doctors. According to me, though, it’s getting better. The relief that I feel when I straighten something on a shelf, or tap something twice, is unimaginable.

If I touch something, that doesn’t necessarily mean that I need to touch it again. Sometimes, however, my chest gets really tight, and that’s when I know that I need to repeat whatever I just did. I spend about 4 hours a day doing my compulsions.

My life isn’t greatly affected by my disorder, because I’ve gotten really good at making it look like nothing out of the ordinary. I’m an OCD ninja, all stealth-like and sneaky. The only people that know about my OCD are my parents and siblings…and you guys, of course. I’m not ashamed of it, I’m not embarrassed by it, I’m nothing but content with it. It’s just easier to not tell people, because once you do, there will be a million questions, assumptions that you’re crazy, and funny looks as the rumor mill is in motion.

I’m aware of my OCD, I’m aware that it’s not going to go away, and I’m aware that it affects me more than I’ll ever know.

Stay Gold.

Comments have been left open for this post. Feel free to leave a comment, anonymous or otherwise, below.

Somebody Has To Say It

This is a collection of letters that I’ve written to various people, or groups of people, that I feel needed to be posted for all of the world to see. (Actually, I haven’t actually WRITTEN these. I’m making them up as I go. Enjoy!)

Dear Fellow Fat Chicks Of The World,
There ARE decent looking clothes in your size. Stop wearing clothes that don’t fit you. If you’re going to wear denim, make sue that it’s thick. If you’re going to wear jeans, make sure they’re not low-rise jeans. Nobody wants to see your fat rolls swinging and swaying with every step you take. Also, stop denying that you’re fat. Stop calling yourself average. Being 5’6” and weighing 230 pounds is not average. Being 25 years old and still denying that you’re fat, or coming up with weird synonyms, like “chubby,” “thick,” or “large” is just silly. You’re a grown ass woman. You’re fat. Own it.

Dear Katy Perry,
You’re annoying. I mean, you were cute when you were singing about how guys are bitches and whatever else, but now? Now, you’re singing about being a teenage dream, which I can only take as your not-so-implied way of saying that you like teenage boys. Also, Russell Brand? Really? Really?

Dear Men,
As a whole, you have a reputation for being pigs. In my experience, that is a rather accurate summarization of you. I don’t get it. I mean, you feel the need to creep, even if you’re married or in a relationship. What if I showed your lovely lady the things you send to me? It’s not hard to find her, seeing as how your Facebook page clearly says you’re with her and links to her page. And to those of you who aren’t in a relationship of any kind, I can guarantee you that you’re not going to find the one by borderline harassing her on the internet.

Dear People Who Think OCD Is Contagious,
You have problems. More than those of us affected by this disorder. Being around me isn’t going to make your brain start functioning the way that mine does. At the same time, criticizing me for having to double check things or touch things or straighten things isn’t going to make my OCD magically disappear.

Dear People Who Unfollow Me For My Slightly Obnoxious Tweets,
When you’re watching a sports event or a TV show or a movie or just hanging out, you tweet. A lot. It gets annoying at times, but that doesn’t make me unfollow you. So, when I’m watching someone’s live show and tweet about it, and you unfollow me, that makes me hate you. You care as much about BlogTV as I do about the Yankees or Outsourced or I Love You, Beth Cooper, or the fact that your friend Joe just farted and stank up your apartment. So, it’s like this: If you unfollow me because I’m enjoying something, I’m going to unfollow you because you’re an asshole.

Dear Disney,
What’s up with this “no love for the middle United States” thing? Seriously. Do something about it.

Dear Brittany Burke,
I get that I kinda stole your boyfriend sophomore year, but is that really a reason to completely exclude me from the yearbook? I mean, what about Stormy McCullough-Pendergraph and Angela Jensen? Those girls are the devil’s spawn, yet their ugly mugs are all over your precious little yearbook. I can only assume that you didn’t want my picture in there because then everyone would’ve known why your darling Cody ran around on you…with me. Oh, and P.S. - Your hair still looks like absolute shit.

Stay Gold.

Comments have been left open for this post. Feel free to leave a comment, anonymous or otherwise, below.

Saturday, October 16, 2010

My Weekend. (So Far.)

I thought my week was bad. Who would’ve thought that my weekend would be even worse? I got off of work Friday, came home and just hung out for a while. My mom gets home and tells me that my sister and her fiancé are coming here for the weekend. I hate them both. Very, very, very, VERY much. They get here around 10pm, and I’m watching Psych on Netflix and doing my homework. At about 1 or 1:30, I head upstairs to go to bed. I see that my brother’s door is open, and I knew that if he were home, his door would be closed. So, I just figure that he’s out. I go into my room, turn around and lock the door, and my phone rings. It’s little brother. This was the conversation:

"Hey, I need you to come get me. I’m out by the high school, further down the road."
"Why are you there?"
"I snuck out and went to Frank’s. He took his mom’s car and wrecked it."
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I’m fine. Just come get me, please."
"Is Frank okay?"
"Yeah. PLEASE come get me."
"Okay. I’ll be there in a minute."

The fear in his voice was enough to make me start crying. I grab my keys and wallet, go downstairs, and ask my sister’s fiancé to move his car, because he parked behind me and I couldn’t get out of the driveway. He says he has to pee and he’ll be right out. I get in my car and I start shaking...bad. I can’t even tell you where my heart was at that point. Little brother calls again. Here’s that conversation:

"Hey, I’ll meet you in [neighborhood’s name.]"
"Hey, just please, please, please don’t tell daddy. Please..."
"I’m not going to. Just calm down and I’ll see you in a minute."

This time, the fear in his voice had turned to something familiar. I could hear in his voice that he needed comfort. (A tone that I know all too well, from working at a daycare.) Then, I called my little sister. She was over at Frank’s house, spending the night with his little sister, Hannah. This was that conversation:

"Hey. Are you at Hannah’s?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"Is their mom awake?"
"Okay. Go wake her up."
"Frank took her car and wrecked it."
"How do you know?"
"[Little brother] was with him. He just called me. Go wake her up and tell her. And DON’T SAY ANYTHING about [little brother] being in the car."
"K. Bye."

I didn’t know how bad the wreck was, but I knew that Frank’s mom needed to be there. If not for her son, then for her car. I go and get my brother and tell him to show me where the accident was. (Rewind: The car flipped, little brother kicked the window out, and got the hell out of there. Just so you know.) He shows me where the accident was, and the cops are already there. He begs me not to drive any closer. I say okay. Had the cops not been there, I would’ve gone, anyway, just to make sure that Frank was okay. I’ve never met this child, and I know he’s bad news, but I would’ve taken care of him. He’s 15, has a rap sheet longer than my arm, and just got out of rehab, but he’s a human being, a child at that, and I’m not completely heartless.

Anyway, I head home with little brother. I ask him what happened. He says all he remembers is Frank swerving, then the car was upside down. The guy driving in front of them stopped and called 911 and let Frank use his cell to call his mom. I ask him if Frank was high, and he says no. I ask him if Frank called his mom, he says yes, but that was their only car. So, I tell him to call little sister or Hannah and tell them that I’m coming to get their mom, so she can go see her car and son, and talk to whoever she needs to talk to. Little brother shows me where they live, then walks home. Little sister had told Frank and Hannah’s mom that little brother was in the car, so she knew by the time we got there. Little sister, Hannah, and mom (I never caught this woman’s name, by the way) get in the car and we head back to the accident.

I pull up behind the police cars and Frank’s mom was getting out of the car, and I told her I was going to stay with her. So, we walk toward the chaos and the sheriff is there. Oh, and there was another boy in the car. Jason, his name was. His arm was cut pretty badly, and by the time we got there, they had him in the ambulance already. So, anyway. Frank’s mom and I talk to the sheriff and he says that Frank and Jason are both high. He says that there was another passenger in the car, but he took off on foot. I wasn’t about to snitch on my baby brother, and luckily, Frank's mom kept her mouth shut. The sheriff says that he didn’t have to stick around, and the only thing that he would be charged with, if he weren’t high, as well, would be being out past curfew. He says that Jason is going to be charged with being under the influence and being out past curfew and Frank is going to be charged with being under the influence, driving without a license, being out past curfew, intoxicated assault (because Jason was hurt,) and he tells us that the only way the insurance will pay for a new car is if she presses charges against her son for stealing her car. (I’m still not sure what she’s going to do, as far as that goes.)

This was the point when I finally looked at the car. Completely totaled. Upside down in the ditch. The passengers’ side of the car is completely flat. The driver’s side is still intact, except for the shattered windows. Basically, the car looked like a wedge. I’m not big on religion or spirituality or any of that, but I swear to you, little brother has someone or something watching over him. There’s been too many times in his life that he should’ve been killed, but he always walks away unharmed. I was still shaking from when I initially got into my car. When I saw what the car looked like, my legs turned to mush. As I was sitting on the road, an officer walked by, leading Frank, who was in handcuffs. When I saw Frank, I knew that I should've been mad. I knew that I should’ve wanted to kill him. I don’t even know this kid, and all I felt when I saw him was disappointment. I got myself together enough to walk back to my car and let Frank’s mom handle all the paperwork that needed to be done. On my way, I stopped and looked at Frank. I gave him that “it’ll be okay” hand-on-the-shoulder-and-nod thing. Looking back, I’m sure he was like “Who the hell is this girl and why is she touching me?” Oh, well.

Something funny did happen, during all of this. Hannah was in the backseat of my car, and being the nerd that she is, all she was worried about was getting her homework and textbooks out of her mom’s car. Her mom came back to the car with Hannah’s school things, so for Hannah, all was right in the world. I took them home, and told little sister to get her things, because I didn’t need her over at their house with all of this going on. On our way home, I told her to call little brother and tell him to wake dad up and tell him what he’d done. He begs me to let it wait until morning. I told him he better wake up before I do. I get home and park behind my sister’s fiancé in the driveway. (You’ll need to know this when I get to why Saturday sucked.) I go to little brother’s room and ask him if he was high, too. He says no. My little brother’s an asshole and a liar, but he has never lied to me. (By the way, I believe that he didn’t know that Frank and Jason were high.) So, I head to bed. This was at about 3am. We had to leave the house by 8am on Saturday, which meant I needed to be up at 6:30am.

6:30am rolls around and I take my three and a half hours of sleep and pretend it was longer. We had to go get our military IDs redone, now that my dad’s retired. My brother and dad were in my dad’s truck, and little sister, mom, and myself were in mom’s van. Mom asks little sister how she got home from Hannah’s. She says I picked her up. Mom asks me what time. I say about 2am. She says “2AM?! Why?!” I say that she needs to talk to little brother about that. She says why. So, I tell her. She calls dad. Dad supposedly talks with little brother about it. I know my parents all too well to think that they’d discipline either of the younger kids. Later in the day, little brother says “Dude. He wasn’t even mad about it,” thus affirming what I’d already known.

On our way home from getting out IDs done, dad says to call older sister and ask if she and her fiancé want to go to breakfast. They say okay. Then, older sister calls little brother and asks him to ask me where my keys are, so she can move my car. I say they’re in my room, but my door’s locked. Dad says for them to just chill and we’ll come home and I’ll move my car, so we can go to breakfast. Older sister calls dad a few minutes later and tells him that they don’t need us to come home and that they’ll meet us at the restaurant.

We’re sitting there eating and older sister says something about driving my car. I said “You drove my car?” She nods like it’s no big deal. It normally wouldn’t be, but the fact that she had to break into my room to get my keys made me so mad. My OCD doesn’t like people being near my things. My room, things in my room, my keys, my car, whatever. I’m not okay with anyone touching any of it. As we’re leaving, she hands my keys to little brother and tells him to give them to me, and he does.

Later in that day, we leave for dinner. Little sister rides with older sister and her fiancé, little brother and I are with dad in the truck. We pull into the parking lot and little sister has sunglasses on her face that look awfully familiar. She gets out of the car and says “Hey, did you give these to [older sister]?” I say no. She says “Oh. She said she got them from you.” So, not only did she break into my room, go through my things to find my keys, take my keys, and drive my car, she also stole my sunglasses. My parents wonder why I hate her…

Oh, one more thing, we went out to dinner to celebrate my brother’s and my sister’s fiancé’s birthdays. My parents said it was their treat. Sister’s fiancé thought it was okay to order nine drinks. My mom looked like she was going to cry when the server brought the check to her. Seriously, I would’ve made him pay for his drinks. No part of dinner involves NINE drinks. Another thing! Sister’s fiancé thinks it’s funny to interrupt or reverse my compulsions. When I move something, he moves it back. When I adjust something, he readjusts it. If I need to touch something again, he moves it. He’s not going to think it’s so funny when I lose my mind because of him. (He’s an asshole, by the way. He bosses my sister around, telling her to pick this up, or pick that up, do the dishes, iron his clothes. Fuck that. You’re a grown ass man, do it yourdamnself. If anyone ever tried that shit with me, I’d slit their fucking throat. Fuck you, you’re not an incapable child. Jesusfuck.) So, there. That was my weekend.

Stay Gold.

P.S.-Never once did I think to wake my parents up. My only thought was to get my brother. After his second phone call, it became needing to get TO him and not just get him, if that makes any sense at all.

Comments have been left open for this post. Feel free to leave a comment, anonymous or otherwise, below.

Friday, October 15, 2010

Celebrity Spank Bank!

My name is LuchaDoll and this is my Celebrity Spank Bank.

James Roday
I remember the first time that I ever saw him. He was screaming like a little girl. I’ve been in love ever since. lol :] It doesn't hurt that he has a huge scar on his chest. Scars are hot. haha

Sidney Crosby
What do you get when you mix an innocent crush with a big mouth? You get a tattoo of Sidney Crosby’s jersey number. Also, he's a fellow member of the Big Teeth Club. XD

Amaury Nolasco
My family and I used to watch Prison Break every Monday. My mom and sisters would swoon everytime Wentworth Miller or Dominic Purcell was on screen. Not me, though. This fine piece of Mexico is who did it for me. Still does. Forever will, I’m sure.

Desi Arnaz
HUH?! Yep. This one’s kinda creepy, but whatever. He was a handsome ass dude.

Matt Bomer
The first of many gays on this list. If he were a little taller, he’d replace Greg Vaughan as my dream man. (Sidenote: Greg Vaughan isn’t on this list, because when I think of him, my ovaries want him more than my heart does. We’d make beautiful children. haha)

Boris Kodjoe
I wasn’t even aware that this man existed until just recently, and my freakin’ God. I am disappointed in all of you for not telling me about him sooner.

Jensen Ackles
I’ve had a crush on this man since I was 7 or 8 years old. lol All these years later, he still gets my gears going.

Terrence Howard
Do I really need to explain myself on this one?

Isaiah Mustafa
Look at this man, now back at me, now back at this man. Now, keep looking at him while I go change my pants.

Ross Everett
I’m sure all of you are wondering about this one, but I don’t care. He’s funny, he’s adorable, he makes me happy.

Robert Downey, Jr.
The first of many oldheads on my list. He gets better looking as he gets older.

Sam Jaeger
I first saw him in Catch and Release, but I didn’t realize how much I liked him until this season of Parenthood started.

Mark Harmon
Another oldhead. Another dude that gets better looking as he ages. And have you seen those eyes? To.Die.For.

Denzel Washington
I’m pretty sure that Denzel is on every woman’s list.

Corbin Bernsen
I first saw him as John Durant on General Hospital. Now, I see him every week as Henry Spencer. He was ugly when he was younger, but sweet jesus, he looks good now.

Christopher Meloni
Another dude that I’m sure is on every woman’s list.

Alan Ruck
Yet another oldhead. Yet another example of one that looks better now than he did 20 years ago.

Bruce Willis
Heh. Yep.

Michael Buckley
What a handsome man.

Nate Berkus
Dude can decorate my home ANYTIME. *suggestive wink*

Brett The Intern
I love Brett. That is all.

Joseph Julian Soria
I think JJ is the youngest guy on this list. I sometimes forget that he and I are friends on Facebook, and I post things about how adorable I think he is. lol He’s gorgeous. End of story.

Jon Favreau
Obama’s speechwriter. Obama’s adorable speechwriter. Mmm-mmm-mm.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt
I’m not really sure when this little crush developed, but whatever. He’s adorable. :D

Stay Gold.

Comments have been left open for this post. Feel free to leave a comment, anonymous or otherwise, below.