Pages

Saturday, January 28, 2006

How to avoid packing

The last few posts have been rather heavy so while checking out another fellow blogger I found in Australia, whom I discovered links to moi (Yes! So exciting!), I found this little quiz. I've blatantly stolen it (Thank you pomgirl! Don't be mad, ok? Please?) and filled it out from my perspective. Packing will have to begin again tomorrow. Blech.

Four Jobs you’ve had in your life:
Barista - ooh.. I make a mean mocha people..
Recruiter at a temp agency
Receptionist for a market research company
Babysitter

Four movies you could watch over and over:
Chicago
The Princess Bride
The Royal Tenenbaums
The Breakfast Club

Four places you’ve lived:
Ashland, Oregon
Ski, Norway
Lincoln City, Oregon
Seattle, Washington

Four TV shows you love to watch:
Lost
Alias
Grey's Anatomy
Desperate Housewives

Forever:
Seinfeld
Six Feet Under
Friends
Will & Grace

Four places you’ve been on vacation:
Hawaii
Disneyland
San Francisco/Sonoma
The Grand Canyon

Four websites you visit daily:
Yahoo
Myspace
Tribe
Craigslist

Four of your favorite foods:
chocolate
hummus (the kind I make is the best!)
macaroni and cheese w/ feta, tuna, and peas (Don't give me that face.. it rocks!)
burritoes (I also kick ass at these too.)

Four places you’d rather be:
Somewhere warm
Paris
Vancouver, BC
With him

Four bestest albums:
Imogen Heap - Speak For Yourself (I can't stop listening to this one right now)
Fiona Apple - Extraordinary Machine
Rachael Yamagata - Happenstance
KT Tunstall - Eye To The Telescope

Four bestest books:
Catcher In the Rye - J.D. Salinger
Me Talk Pretty One Day - David Sedaris
Lamb, The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal - Christopher Moore
Memoirs Of A Geisha - Arthur Golden

Four favourite items of clothing (added by pomgirl):
My Old Navy velour grey sweats.. mm..
My new black and white striped arm warmers complete with little holes for my thumbs
My 7 For All Mankind jeans - really good butt jeans people
My Garage cargo pants

Ok.. your turn!

Nite all! *yaaaaaaaaawn*

Monday, January 23, 2006

The road to recovery is paved with ice cream

What hasn't gone on over this last week or so? Well, Hell apparently froze over cuz the Seahawks are going to the Superbowl.. *yawn*.. I know, I know.. so sue me cuz I have absolutely no interest in football whatsoever. Nope.. I really really don't. I'd rather do math than watch a game.. while getting a root canal.. with NO anesthetic! Yes, really!

Anyway.. back to me..

My week has been filled with some days of bustling and positive energy and others that are a little more challenging to get thru. My friends have not stopped checking in tho and keep inviting me out to all kinds of random events so we multi-task the necessary healing. They get my mind off feeling like a self-pitying racehorse with a broken leg and we get a lot of catching up accomplished as we most likely haven't seen each other in a while. This is a big deal to me. My friends are a social group with full lives of dating or plans with significant others, plays to direct, bars to open, children to look after, other friends to see, businesses to run, etc., and so far, almost every day one of them has still managed to make time with me just to remind me they care and this will get easier eventually.

But even with all the looking after, I can't believe I forgot my favorite remedy of all time - ice cream. Seriously, there's a direct correlation of break up woe to how much ice cream is ingested. When Kari and I were going thru any heartache in high school and college, the simplest solution to feeling better was an entire pint of Haagen-Dazs ice cream. I can't imagine eating a whole pint now like I did back then, but early last week, I made a dent. I'd say I'm still due about another half pint but I'm pacing it out. And they didn't have Deep Chocolate Peanut Butter, which curtailed the initial excitement. I settled for Ben & Jerry's Phish Food, which is more like 1st runner up than 2nd place, and no, in ice cream ratings, that's not the same thing.. so pfffft..

Food, in general, hasn't really been excluded at all. Break ups usually entail some time where food doesn't matter cuz I can't eat at all and I drop a little weight. This one is no exception having lost about four pounds the first week, but I think I've more than made up for it. This week alone I may have ingested my weight in cheese and chocolate. Wednesday was a gourmet dinner with my beautiful friend, Lucine, and dessert was this to-die-for molten chocolate cake that I couldn't finish so do you think I let them waste my chocolatey goodness? Oh I soooo did not.. they boxed up that little bugger and I indulged after lunch the next day. Ahh.. wish I could've done the same thing with the wine. It was lovely. Thursday was dinner at The Melting Pot, a fondue restaurant, with a customer who wanted to take all his 'telecom ladies' out. He brought his associate, Collin, who was adorable eye-candy and while my co-workers cooed over how they thought he certainly liked me (it's possible, but I think it was just cuz I was the only person near his age of 26 being the second youngest in the group myself), I barely stopped to take a breath between bites (yes, I'm sure that was a BIG turn on). This also included an excruciatingly decadent chocolate martini in a caramel-laced martini glass. Um.. two.. to be exact. Yes. Friday was dinner with my two best friends, Loren and Fatima, and dear God, Loren went to town pulling tapas items out of his favorite cookbooks for all of us and when we were done with the smoked salmon lettuce cups, gouda-filled wild mushroom risotto balls, and a layered potato, vegetable, and gouda gratin number, there was still dessert to be had, which was my second molten chocolate cake for the week! But homemade by moi!! AAAAAND there was still enough food left over to feed a small third-world country or at least three sumo wrestlers. Good thing Fatima is pregnant and is eating for two.

As I ended my Friday on that culinary note, I had high hopes for the weekend and how I'd manage my time, but the distractions of packing and house-hunting aren't the same as the 8-5 nose-to-the-grindstone pace I have in the office during the week. There's a lot more time to sit and think, obsess and mope, and thus, drive myself a bit mad. But really, the packing should be plenty to do.. and what a neat idea to oh.. I don't know.. maybe START doing it since I have about 8 DAYS in which to get it done.. but I find myself putting in only the minimum time on that and searching for a new residence while the rest is spent amongst friends and others lest I go stir-crazy from a couple of hours alone. And even that comes with its own complications.

Saturday afternoon was spent with the ex's best friend, Jen, and her friends for a clothing swap. I rid myself of four huge bags of clothes and shoes, but did return with one, tho on the small side, of new-to-me items, which made me a cute sort of happy. And really, I felt pretty strong the whole time til near the end, boy came up in conversation - and he should. Jen has a life that often includes him cuz they're best friends and she shouldn't have to worry about what she says in her own house just cuz I'm there.. but the smallest mention only a few times was just too much for the new-clothes-for-me happy and any upper hand I thought my logical side had over the emotional was quickly strong-armed into surrender. Luckily, we were wrapping it up cuz I knew I'd hit my limit. I was a whimpering mess by the time I got home.

That sort of sucked so I kicked myself in the ass and voila - my night improved! I joined up with friends for a midnight improv theatre performance, drank to the point I was glad I wasn't driving, and reveled in the feeling of temporary bliss all that gave me. One friend inparticular, Blake, who's just so fucking cute I want to put him in my pocket and take him home, is also back in the world of singledom again and there was a healthy combination of laughter, flirting, and ego-boosting going on between us that brightened my mood so much I wondered what the hell I was upset about earlier. I swear, these days, I'm practically bi-polar. I know.. don't you want to hang out with ME?? Whoo hoo - a laugh a minute.. and if not THIS minute.. for sure the NEXT! But the attention made a difference.. it's what I needed.

The self-psycho-analyzing is going pretty well. I should be a shrink. I should be YOUR shrink.. no? Of course self-treatment has proven tougher. Brandon-Two has expressed confusion over this new irrational jealousy I'm suddenly cursed with when he tells me about the girls he's pursuing. What is up with that?! We are friends. And that's all I want.. except.. oh, his undivided attention apparently. How's that for sending mixed messages.. ? Poor guy. I mean, I'm more boy-crazy than I think I ever have been in my life and tho I've unhidden the dating profiles online, I'm not sure why I did it. The attention, I suppose, is providing me validation of my worth, which, uh.. hi.. can't be healthy.. right? Why do I need someone's attention to maintain a positive self-esteem? I don't actually.. but just maybe right now.. I sort of do. Besides, if I do go out with someone - or four, what's the harm in a little talk over a little dinner? A girl has to eat.. and having company with whom I can do that isn't a crime. I mean, fuck.. I'm heartbroken. Not dead.

I do know the dangers of rebounding tho. That's not what I'm looking for, but if something happens that wasn't expected, I can't say I'd turn it down if I was interested - depending on the situation of course. Human touch is necessary to life.. babies die without it.. and I'm a physical person so if it's not a crutch that's used to excess, honestly, I don't see any harm in indulging as long as the complications due to another person's involvement are minimal.. and you recognize it is what it is and exactly what purpose it's serving. My only worry is that when you start something like this, that healing sense of touch can be addictive and if it's someone you know well and you're not exactly in the best place after a break up, they can sometimes be substituted for the one who's left you. This obviously can lead to all kinds of misunderstandings and confusion.. and that's what I'm trying to avoid. My hurt currently doesn't affect anyone but me and I'd like to keep it that way. I need to get out of this hole I've created.. not expand the square footage.

And with that.. I've segued you to a more positive note - my new roommate! His name is Mel. And Mel is great! He's funny, big brother-ish (if my mom had birthed him at 14 and if she was African-American.. but whatever.. details..), very manly and 40 to boot - not that he looks it. AND he knows all the needed electrical ways and means of hooking up a tv, dvd player, and stereo.. and these are VERY important things.. this gadgety-fun stuff guys like that give me stomach pain just from the idea of trying to hook in all the thing-a-ma-bobs to the whatsitcalled. I usually have to ask a male friend over once I've moved into a new place and with the offending wires and deely-bobs in hand I say, 'Pleeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaase.. just make it work.. *sniff sniff*' looking ever so un-turn-downable whilst I give them my best puppy-dog look ever.. which has never failed me. Beer never hurts either. Men are pretty easy.. sometimes.

Well.. another week has begun and the move-out countdown is now in the single digits. Don't think this isn't stressing me out.. cuz um.. yeah.. it so is.. but um.. Mel has faith! Mel is NOT worried.. no he is not! And tho I have yet to be reassured.. um.. I'm hopeful - in ALL matters this week.. Yes! Yes I am!

*saying things with gusto at least makes me feel like I'm on the right track..*

So y'all wish me luck on the house-hunt cuz you know.. it only takes one good place, right? And if you find oh.. I don't know.. some extra money just.. you know, coming out your ass.. maybe send over some movers.. ok?? Yeah.. that'd be great! Mwah!

Friday, January 13, 2006

Apparently, the universe has a plan

Ok.. let's start with that last post.. um.. a bit of a downer. No really, you can be honest. I can take it. But you know letting go = sort of not easy.. and it doesn't have to be a huge dramatic thing. Even the average closing of the door on any 'you and me' idea that ends on a positive note is difficult for at least one person involved.. and yeah, I've certainly had better weeks, but it hasn't been all bad.

Let's start off with a randomly good story first tho.. shall we?

So.. I'm moving. Yes, again - this is a story for another time.. or maybe later this post.. if you're good, and really, that's a big 'if' people.. but seriously, it's fine. Yes, I know I've only been in my current residence for five months.. Let's not get distracted, ok? Stay focused..

Ok, well.. I still have to kind of talk about the moving thing to continue.. but I'll bring you back to the point and you'll see, hopefully, where I'm going with this..

Ideally I'm looking for just one other person to live with cuz I really can't afford to live on my own so I've talked to a couple of people who seemed interested and for specific reasons, just haven't worked out. One girl was really great, but she wanted a place with a bit higher rent to insure she'd get something she loved. Didn't blame her.. if I could afford it, I would've done the same thing. So I reposted the ad and the second time this darling boy answered. Now, I didn't go there.. no I did not. I'm a practical and realistic girl.. well, sometimes.. but get this.. he did. Went there, that is.

We traded myspace links (I swear that fucking site is going to be the death of me.) to get an idea of what the other was all about. Um.. yeah.. I know.. we're ridiculous. That's sooooo all the information about us we needed to know, right? But he seemed like a nice enough guy. He didn't answer my ad to pick me up or get an instant live-in girlfriend. It's not that seedy. But after perusing my profile, he found there were a 'myriad of attractions' (his words) to me and that caused him to rethink this cohabitating idea. And that the idea probably wasn't a good one. No, it was not. And then, surprisingly enough, he told me all this.

Now, you ask, why didn't I laugh and laugh and point and laugh some more and call him crazy? Oh you know me.. a good compliment can last me all week.. especially this week, right? Fragile ego, compassion abounds.. and I like those direct and blunt type guys. Oh yes I do. But I'm nothing if not insistant that even the worst situations should be able to be resolved for the benefit of both parties involved. You at least have to try, right? So I suggested we meet for drinks to see if his theory was correct or if I might be able to persuade him that tho cute, after three months of knowing me, any attraction would be diminished as the latest research study seemed to indicate. Besides that, the pictures of me are possibly just accidentally very good and in person, I'm just a Monet (oh come on.. you know what I mean - far away hot, but close up.. just a bunch of dots.).. again.. NOT that THAT would be the determining factor if we could live together or not, but apparently ugly is ALL the rage for compatible rooming.

His name? No, I'm not going to give you even three guesses. You know why? Come on.. nod your head.. you know why. And BINGO! You have it! Someone give the reader a prize! And, in response to your statement, yes way. It's Brandon. What are the odds, you ask? Um, hi, have we just met? Yeah, I don't do math.. I have no idea.. but pretty damn small if you ask me.

I think he was shocked I responded at all, but he agreed to meet and told me he had a story for me when we did. And wouldn't you know it.. we got along great.. or greatly. Or whatever it was that happened. I wasn't considering sparks cuz my heart's still rather MacGyver'd together with duct tape and a garden hose right now and again, the priority is to focus on what I need, which is to find a new place to live. But there was much fun and storytelling and rehashing of my break up and he related by telling me about his own break up a few months ago with a girl he met by way of (wait for it..) trying to find a place to live (!).

Ok, so he has a tendency to romantically pursue prospective female roommates it seems.. but hey, we all have our issues.. he's also a very good listener and advice giver-outer, his emails are intelligent, quick witted, even a tad cocky, and in person that's all there, but really, he's a big teddy bear who's actually fairly reserved (compared to me, the spastic chihuahua) til he feels a bit more comfortable or is a bit more intoxicated.. whichever comes first.

By the end of the night, there was an obvious mutual affinity, but as I'm not considering anyone romantically at this point, what I saw was the potential for a really good friendship. He did too, however, he still entertained 'ideas' for something else, which also led us back to why we were actually there and we decided he'd need to think it over and get back to me.

The next morning I received a very thoughtful and lengthy email from him beginning with how torn he was feeling, tho still positive we may be able to co-exist pretty happily with just my amazing dishwashing and cooking skills alone combined with his of being the resident spider-killer, bbq magic maker, and all around noise checker-outer and thief/rapist/serial killer stopper. Ahh the perks of living with big, strong men. But by the time he'd reached the end of his monologue, he'd reasoned himself right out of it and concluded the ramifications of any conjoined living, with us being the.. um.. conjoiners, would most likely result in disaster, or at the very least, some serious maiming, and therefore, he wished me well on finding someone else.

So.. pffft.. there went that idea.. but wow, I was very flattered and really appreciated his honesty. But moreover, I couldn't really deny the connection with this random ad-answering second Brandon and we continued to talk throughout the day.

And it started out as a very good day.. and then.. I sort of had a small ocean of depression wash over me....... and oy, the day just became much harder to get thru. So you know what my second-Brandon-in-a-row did?! Suggested we meet for drinks again. And you know what I did?!! Agreed. Wholeheartedly! There's just a very rare comfort in finding a new friend to talk to about all your latest tragedies.. maybe it's that they're so uncontaminated by your life that you have this addictive clean slate with which to work. I like that.

Anyway, there we were again and the company was so nice. He was very sweet and empathetic when I felt the need to release more relationship woes upon him. Then somewhere in the middle of a random bit that included ex-boy's best friends, Jen and Brian, my second-in-a-row Brandon stopped me and asked what these particular friends looked like cuz his ex had two best friends named Brian and Brandon. And.. it just couldn't be.. but when the details started to get more and more specific, our eyes just kept getting wider, and I think 'It's A Small World After All' started playing in our heads VERY loudly. My now Bizarrro-World Brandon was, in fact, the ex of Jen, whom he met six months ago when searching for a new place to live and who happens to be one of the best friends of my former Brandon, who so recently decided to break up with yours truly, who, tho brazenly sexy, which has no purpose in this sentence whatsoever except to boost my own ego, found herself in need of new housing and responding to an email from Bizarro Brandon about maybe needing a roommate and a new place to live.

Phew! Everyone still with me? Did we lose anyone?

We were both reeling with the incestuousness of it all, tho he found it rather humorous and I found it rather sad. There I was.. rejected by two different Brandons within six days of each other. They both found me funny, beautiful, smart, maybe more than dateable, and fun - yet one had decided that tho these were not advantageous qualities for his newest roommate, that other possibilities might be intriguing to ponder.. and the other, having already experienced all of the above and then some, had reduced these charms of sorts that comprise who I am into something 'less than' (tho he would disagree and just call it 'different').. One liked me too much and the other, not enough. Ahh.. my powers are surely fading, but God must've taken pity on me and sent me another Brandon doll to see if I couldn't work some magic with what I have left.. I think He, of all beings, should know what Hell is paved with.. or do you think I need to tell Him?

So is it Fate? It's possible. Is it a strange set of circumstances that led me and Brandon number two circling all around and nearby each other til WHAM! we just inevitably crashed head on? More likely. And, more than anything, I choose to believe that maybe there is this window that's opened ever so slightly when a door is closed and these invisible angels lead in Hope and Wonder to wash over you when you feel like you're broken and that it's going to hurt so much for so terribly long and they've come just to tell you it simply isn't true.. and they arrive in the form of new friends and new opportunities you never expected... and surprisingly, it makes all the difference.

Well kids.. that is my rousing bedtime story for you all. May you all have something to hope for, something to dream, and someone to share it all with. I gotta run. Kevin Bacon is still waiting for me to call.

Sunday, January 08, 2006

Babygirl crashes and burns

(Author's note to her subject: Sorry babe - don't know if you'll still be reading my awkwardly crafted sentences or not during this required bit of space-taking til we move on to being 'just friends'.. but know this spilling of my emotional gut is part of my catharsis and I hope you understand.)

He found me on myspace.com in late September or early October. Such a cutie he was though six years younger than me and I thought.. what could he possibly have to say.. but he wasn't the typical younger guy who couldn't put three words together. He was smart, approached me without a come on and then engaged me to meet after a couple weeks of chatting back and forth. I thought, what the hell and I left the house with no expectations, but when I first saw him, he smiled at me and I thought.. hmm.. adorable... and what a great smile. And then we talked. All night. It was easy, he was funny, we created imaginary pets we would share, chihuahuas, Rufus (I named) and Petunia (he named), and then pretended to argue over clothing them (me) or not (him) cuz they do tend to get chilly, but, since Rufus was mainly his, and too manly for any type of sweater in boy's opinion, it was agreed he could wear one but only when he was with me.

The time flew by and before we knew it, it was pretty late for a weeknight out. I hugged him goodbye and he surprised me when he leaned in and kissed me just ever so sweetly. It was lovely and there was a very cute twinkle in his eye that I noticed.. I thought he may be a little bit of trouble, but cute trouble nonetheless..

Dinner and I think a movie made up our second date and tho I think we thought both were marginal, our time together was better than average. Upon making another attempt to see each other is when he told me he'd had a great time, but if I was looking for something serious, we should end it here cuz that's not something he wanted right now. At the time, I was in the midst of my dating experiment and seeing two other people. I wasn't about to get caught up in one person either so it wasn't a big deal to me. That's fine. Serious? Pffft.. who wants that?

He's allergic to cats, among other things, as I've noticed Virgos always are in my experience, so I think there was only one time, early on, he stayed with me in the two-cat house. A valiant effort it was too since Holly's kitty decided to declare war on us at 7:30 am on that fated Sunday morning and peed on the bed with us in it. An unwelcome awakening, boy, half asleep, patiently waited while I attempted to clean up what I could, informed Holly of her baby's infraction, and we grabbed our things to head back to his place so we could finish sleeping in, shell-shocked as we were. From then on, sleepovers were always at his place.

A month and a half had gone by, the other two guys had been let go cuz the connections just weren't there for any of us.. and boy had become the front-runner accidentally. Suddenly I realized I was comparing the others to him.. I caught myself many times being a goofy and dorky girl and thought, wow.. I can really just be myself and it's ok. This is so comfortable. There was also, maybe, some sort of rush happening every time I saw him.. It was still casual, but friends were being introduced, various party dates were being scheduled, lives seemed to be slowly intertwining a bit more.

He liked my spoon ring, the funky shoes that no one else did, and he always said I knew how to get around the city better than anyone he knew. I marveled at his not-gay affinity for musicals and how his hands were always cold.. and there was a level of intimacy created by silly and dirty text messages sent between us. We talked about trips to Vancouver together, toothbrushes and saline solution were left at his place, cute grandpa-type golf caps were borrowed for lengthy periods of time, sick and injured days were addressed with affection and needed care packages, and my favorite, pet names were applied randomly. He became Sparky and I was either Sparkly or later, Babygirl - which I think of as one word cuz it felt like my name and thusly, weakened my knees every time he said it..

As Christmas rolled nearer, we dressed up for parties and he couldn't have been a more perfect date.. he was affectionate and adoring, made sure I was ok at all times at his party, was friendly and entertaining at mine and for me this was special since I haven't had someone to dote on, or vice versa, at holiday time in forever. Since he rather spoiled me by surprising me with paying off the gorgeous dress and necklace I'd put on hold for said holiday parties, I tried my best to spoil him back. One gift was just a scarf to replace the one he'd lost recently and I gave it to him before he left for his trip home to the east coast for Christmas. He's not good at keeping scarves for lengthy amounts of time and he thought for a while he'd lost mine, but it turned up at his father's. Dad sent it back safely. I think that's a record for him for scarf-keeping time and I just thought it was cute.

He was gone for about nine days and we talked a lot, which surprised me. But at some point, we had a heavy conversation about love. It wasn't exactly word for word, but there was enough talking around it for him to know I was feeling it and for me to know he wasn't. And probably wouldn't ever. There was one night tho, his office Christmas party, he almost told me.. but he realized, having too much to drink, he probably shouldn't say something he may not feel except for in that particular moment.. and he was right.. on both counts. I knew that night that I'd fallen for him, but also thought saying anything would be the cause of our demise and I wasn't ready for that yet.

So while he was away, casual chat moved into something serious when I said I wished he could tell me how he felt about me cuz I really didn't know. I don't think there's anything wrong with asking for clarification at times, but this probably wasn't the best choice of opportunities - a totally girly move and I wish now I would've just left it as it was. But we decided to talk about it and tho he didn't feel the way I did, I'm the one who said it was ok.. let's keep going.. why should we ruin something that's practically perfect just cuz we think we should and then be sad after? 99.9% of what we had was great.. we had fun, we were happy, we could be complete goofs together, and the sex was passionate and sweet or sometimes just a flurry of removing clothes as quickly as possible, which cracked us up a lot and that's how it should've been.. it was silly and hot. But the boyfriend/girlfriend label was still just used as a convenience cuz he wasn't interested in being exclusive. He still wanted the option to see other people even tho he wasn't and hadn't since we'd started seeing each other. There just seemed to be a goal he was working on maintaining for himself and whether I understood or not, I thought I should respect that. I thought whatever we had, as nameless as it was, would be enough for me.

New year's was spent on the phone back and forth, laughing at drunkenness throughout the day and figuring out when to call across the timezones. Tho he was at the other end of the country, I still felt like he was close. I missed him and he made the effort to let me know he missed me too and that he was there at whatever midnight we could have together.. even if he was barely standing.

We had a good couple of days together upon his return tho there were times it seemed he was processing everything I was saying and doing into a subconscious checklist that wasn't in my favor. I was getting on his nerves and he blurted out a few things here and there that tho under the strain of being tired or hungry, I thought still held some truth. He apologized right away and he may not have meant them.. but he didn't want this. I could tell. He couldn't deny for much longer he was in a relationship.. open or not.. casual or not so. We'd become a couple by accident and we'd finished the coasting of the honeymoon stage, the plateauing seemed to begin, and a little work would be required to keep us moving. This was his conflict - cuz to work at something would mean it mattered.. not that I didn't, but not to the same degree he mattered to me and he didn't want to confuse me. I think he also wanted the easiness of something casual and at three months into it, we may not have been 'serious', but we weren't casual anymore either. Going backwards just seemed silly to me, but I didn't want it to be over. I started to think we were postponing the inevitable, but I couldn't be the one to pull away.. and I just thought we could last a bit longer than the end of this week, but I was clearly wrong about that. Neither of us could really make the decision right away cuz tho the negative stuff seemed to be looming over us, the positives were still going strong.. they just didn't hold much weight any longer.. and as the night wore on, we both knew he couldn't do this anymore.

I don't know how to write about hurt other than to say I have it, it's disabling at times, leaves me with irritatingly swollen eyes from crying an ocean or two, and I wish it would go. But without it, it would say I never cared and he never mattered and that's hardly the case here. Life continues, it is what it is, and I believe strongly hope always remains. The hard part is feeling the only person who can console you is the one person who's let you go..

I have no regrets. This has been a lovely, lovely three months and tho that's a joke of an amount of time to many people I'm sure, I just know I was really happy for a little while.. and boy deserves a lot of the credit for bringing that to my life. So as he walks away, which was a hard decision, but it's the right one for both of us in the long run, goddamn it, I deserve to mourn us a little.

Three months is still progress for me as far as my dating records as of recent years. And boy is a good guy, really.. he's so many good things, but was remarkably honest, which is so hard to find, ever so positive and patient, just an immensely cute and genuinely good person who was to me, quite disarming. We're in different places and want different things and don't get me wrong, this fuckin hurts right now.. but I'm so glad I met him. I'm glad we tried. That's all you can do. Nothing's ever guaranteed.

In the meantime I know I should be honest about what I want and that I deserve someone who's crazy about me in a way that's so unstoppable that my imperfections and annoying habits are actually endearing. Yes, I know, that's going to be a hard person to find.. don't think I don't know that.. but anything less than that is unacceptable.

My always-always-there-for-me friends, Jen, Fatima, Andrew, Keith, Kari, Kam, Abby, and Loren to name a few, to whom I'm eternally grateful for the unconditional love and support they bestow upon me, keep reminding me it's good to risk and have a heart as big as mine and that I'm perfect the way I am and that I'm incredibly lovable and they know, unlike me, that there's at least one other person, as of yet unknown, but who does exist, who will scream to the rafters that he agrees with them.. one day.

Til then, please excuse me while I get drunk.

Thursday, January 05, 2006

Ah.. resolution time

I realize I've been neglecting the blog updating and for that, my lovely readers - all five of you - I do sincerely apologize. You know how it is with the holidays - December felt very rushed and after the new year celebration, which, ohmygod do I have stuff to write about that, I'm feeling like I want to relax a little. However, I do know I have a writer's responsibilities so tho this will be shorter than usual, I will do my duty.

Below is my list of this year's resolutions for myself. Um.. please note the varying levels of difficulty indicated by the amount of stars to the right of each..

For this new year of 2006 I resolve to:

***** talk less and listen more - keep your comments to yourselves here.

****** be less controlling - uh ditto as above regarding comments, thank you.

** be funnier.. I mean, who doesn't like funny, right? I'm a frickin crack up.

***** stop backseat driving - Brandon doesn't think this is possible. This sounded like a dare, so I'm going to show him. Um.. or try.. well dammit.. turn off the wipers when it's not raining in the garage, ok babe? Help me help you.

**** yell less at the stupid Seattle drivers who should realize we live where it rains 10 months out of the year, but for some reason they still can't drive in the rain anyway.

*** try harder not to get upset when you suggest a plan and someone says, 'Hey, that's a good plan, let's go with that,' and then confuse them cuz you suggested the plan to make them happy and they are happy about it.. maybe too happy.. and that confuses you for some unknown reason so you confuse them extra by getting upset that they liked your plan... then, after some thinking, you have to call them back and say what a freak you are now that you've realized the plan actually really is a good one and oh by the way, you're crazy, but if they could look past that small small quirk, you'd be greatly appreciative.. and um.. you're happy the plan is good. Yes. Period.

****** be less crazy.

oh and last but not least..

*********** stop biting my nails.. as in ew.. cuz if you knew what exactly was under your nails.. girrrrrrrrrl.. but um, this is so hard.. like 34 years worth of hard.. ugh. And don't suggest that nasty tasting nail polish.. dude, I had braces for 4 1/2 years.. I figured how to bite my nails with those on.. it's a desperate situation.

There. That's all I can think of at this time. I think that's plenty for a 12-month period.. don't you? I don't really believe in resolutions anyway, but I would like to do my part to try to be a better person in general so putting these in writing may help me along a little bit more cuz now they're out there for the world to see so I sorta have to follow thru. If I can accomplish these, it's a testament to my strength and determination.. and well, if I fail.. know that I had my fingers crossed the whole time anyway.. but hey, it's the thought that counts, right?

Happy (belated) new year everyone!