Alexandra F
Bio
I write to give myself an adventure & if it's fun perhaps you will enjoy it too.
This is the link to my journalistic blog: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/franklynews
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Stories (57)
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Imperfect
So, the football game was on last night. It was one my father just had to watch with the TVs on full blast (that’s right, two of them). His hearing’s bad and he refuses to wear a hearing aid, even one of those subtle ones that are flesh-colored. I closed the door to the office I was working in and managed to sneak my dinner in there too. One of the rules of the apartment is not to eat in the office, but I made an exception for myself since he was blasting the volume on the two TVs and I didn’t want the headache I’d surely get if I went out there to eat or if I left the door open.
By Alexandra F8 years ago in Families
Organic Love (Continued)
A grin that makes me want to sit on it. He has one for when he’s making people laugh at something twisted, one for when he’s in the mood, the proud daddy smile that makes me want to hug him, the touched by love smile, the “she likes me” grin. He’s like a Leonard Hofstadter in being shy and making me make the first move. I don’t have that kind of confidence. I’m still the girl, at least I like being that, in making the first move. I like wearing the skirt in that.
By Alexandra F8 years ago in Filthy
Job Success
Affirming to ourselves that we’ve gotten something done is good. It gives us something concrete to say to ourselves. We’re competent because we actually have proof via getting something accomplished. You can’t refute what you have proof of. It’s a positive feeling to know that one is competent and capable. I think that’s part of why we like having jobs, other than getting paid. Hopefully we also have jobs that are satisfying and fulfilling to us; careers.
By Alexandra F8 years ago in Motivation
Feeling Like a Burden
I feel like such a burden. I have my problems, my agitative depression, my uneven serotonin levels, my yelling in my room I try desperately to curb. I use humor, venting through writing, busying myself with tasks, focusing on the cuteness of my cat, crying it out, anything I can think of to stop myself from being this yelling monster that disturbs others by her yelling.
By Alexandra F8 years ago in Psyche
Happily Ever After
Happily ever after didn’t exist for her, though she inwardly craved it, even in its most realistic of manifestations. Oh, she’d already met her knight in shining armor. She knew it wasn’t a father complex though he was twenty-seven and a half years her senior, her birthday being on November fourth, his being on July fourth. Well, someone had to be born then, she thought before looking in the mirror. For all that she was curvy, she didn’t see it. She just didn’t see her appeal. Were she someone to view herself the way she viewed him, she’d see the paunch that came from years of eating her feelings and two miscarriages was pleasantly plump and that a lot of what she labeled grotesque fat was relaxed muscle. She just couldn’t see how any man could crave it. She was proud enough of her large breasts and her round butt. Even her thighs, of late, were acceptable. But she could not get past her gut. Formosa, which had that connotation of pleasingly curvy, would be what an Italian man would say of her. It would fall on deaf ears. She thought anyone who found her beautiful daft and was convinced that no man she found attractive would feel the same. That was, ever since him. He had high cheekbones, arched eyebrows, a square jawline, slim lips that in no way detracted from his appeal (rather went with it), and a scent and grin that drove her mad in the best way. Even his gray hair only added to the overall effect of making her need a drool bucket whenever she thought of him. He was a dad and that just made him a DILF. She kept a picture of him in her bedside drawer. This was her fantasy man, except he was all too real.
By Alexandra F8 years ago in Humans
