A Little Crazy

Things have been a little crazy lately. I've been a little crazy lately. I'm going to LA tomorrow with a couple of people to meet with some Mexican film producers. And I'm driving. Should be fun to take a little road trip with the girls. Girls that I only know through work and who both speak fluent Spanish. Yes. It'll be interesting.

Last night I went to the museum gala with the new boy. I gave him the same choice I gave you, and he went for sexy. So of course, I obliged. He told me about twenty times last night how hot I looked. Yes, that works. Girls never get tired of hearing it. So we hung out with all the rich or beautiful people, eating gourmet food and sipping nice champagne (all free of course), and then we went through the gallery and I gave him a little art education, which he tolerated so well it kind of looked like he was having fun. I also managed to get the stinkeye from a few old ladies who clearly were jealous of how hot I looked. I'll send you a picture when I download them. Anyway, he brought me home, but my house keys were missing (seriously, I was bummed), so we had to go back to his house and this morning went back to the museum (where my keys had been found) and he even went in and got them for me so I wouldn't have to parade through the gallery wearing what I wore last night. That would have been an interesting walk of shame.

So yes, the boy is perhaps still in play. We did languish in his bed for quite some time this morning. I don't think I got home until around noon (yes, it's nice to not have to work on Fridays, and I believe he owns his own business or something like that, so he gets to do what he wants). I told him I was fresh out of gimmicks to get him to hang out with me again, so he was going to have to come up with something on his own if he wanted to hang out again. He laughed. And right before he dropped me off, I asked him when I was going to see him again, and he said next week. He seemed sincere. But then again, I watched him have conversations with complete strangers last night that sounded sincere too. Anyway, we'll see. He talks like he likes me, but boys are really good at doing that when they want to get some. And yes, he got some. I have to say, it's nice to be with someone who openly kisses me in public and doesn't feel compelled to bolt after 5 minutes of post coital snuggling and then pretend it never happened the next time I see him. So refreshing.

So the last thing, is that I have something wrong with my brain. As in, actually wrong. I've been having trouble typing lately. It's like dyslexic typing takes over at random. Like instead of typing 'showing', I type 'whosing'. Stuff like that. Not typos, but my fingers literally not doing what they're supposed to be doing. It does happen from time to time, but it's been happening a lot more often lately. And then the night before last I started getting dizzy. As in a weird temporary vertigo from out of nowhere. It continued yesterday while I was at work, and then last night at the gala. I warned the boy that if I suddenly took a dive or fainted that it wasn't the alcohol. Then this morning I woke up and thought that maybe I was still drunk, but no, it's the vertigo. Dizziness is one thing, but the room tilting sideways is quite another. I keep trying to think of drugs that will make it go away, but I don't think they exist. I'm hoping it'll pass, but if it doesn't or if it gets worse I'll be paying the student health center a visit. It's good to be uninsured when the freaky symptoms start.

Anyway, that's about it. Sexy dress, gala, sex, vertigo, possible beau. And not necessarily in that order.

Choices & Cruelty

Sometimes I'm annoyed by the people around me. Sometimes they end up being my family. I got an email this morning from my sister's husband, and the subject line just said 'branding'. I had no idea what it was, but I prayed it wasn't what I thought. But it was. Forty-five full color pictures of a bunch of mountain people branding cattle. As in burning holes in their skin. And my 12 year old niece participating in the whole thing. It was really sickening. And there is a large part of me that wants to tell them how cruel what they're doing is and not to send me such things anymore, but I know I'd be banned from their household if I did. I mean, what's next, pictures of them slaughtering the cattle? Can't wait for that one. And they would say that I'm the crazy one. Now, I understand that there's cattle rustlers in them thar hills, but there's also a myriad of ways to identify said animals without subjecting them to 3rd degree burns that cause excruciating pain every time the animal moves for weeks to come. Do they really not think about this? Or do we really not give a damn about doing something to an animal just because we're going to kill it in a few months anyway? Is the point that their short lives should be as horrible as possible? I'm not about being vegetarian or boycotting leather. I love steaks, hamburgers, and especially bacon. I desperately want to own a pair of leather pants. I'm still a little grossed out by fur, chandeliers made of animal horns, and of course, and dead animal heads attached to the walls. But I still think that we should at least try to be nice to the little critters while they're still alive and breathing and we're pretending to be their benevolent protectors. And if you insist on being a backwards redneck who still lives in the 1900's, please don't subject my small niece to thinking that this is normal and acceptable behavior. I want her to realize that animals aren't just things we play with and then kill, but they live and breathe and feel pain just like she does. And that should be taken into consideration all the time.

Anyway, is it bad that I'm almost more horrified that my niece is quickly being transformed into a redneck than I am about the branding?

So on another note, my head is really hurting from the flailing elbows from the other day. It hurts every time I raise my eyebrows, which is pretty much all the time. I keep trying to find the bump, and there is none, which is frustrating. Damn these head injuries.

I also have a date to the museum party (I mentioned that, right?) on Thursday. And it's not the old boy. It's the new boy. I left him a message last night, and when he called me back, he was out with some friends and stepped outside to call me back and talked to me until his food came. And then he told me not to send him messages on facebook because he had just gotten the one I sent about a month ago, and then proceeded to start to tell me what I had asked in that message until I told him I had already figured it out. Is this making sense? So anyway, he seemed as normal as ever, so who knows what's going on in that boy's head. Maybe I'll get an idea on Thursday. I figured I'd give him a chance to give his input on my attire, since he's going to have to be seen with me. These are the choices: demure, dignified, cute, flouncy, sassy, or sexy. What would you choose?

Little Things

So it turns out that I don't have to do my presentation on Tuesday. It's actually two weeks from Tuesday. Thank you, Lord. And they say there's no such thing as karma. I've been nice, so the universe is nice back. Well, mostly nice.

I realized today that my forehead is sore from getting hit by the boy's elbow yesterday. It hurt at the time, but the rug burn hurt worse. And today I scratched my eyebrow and it really hurt. No bruise, no bump (maybe a little bump), but it hurts. Oh well.

I didn't do any research today, but I did work on my books, which was actually pretty time consuming. It's strange; I realized very quickly that when I'm not doing schoolwork, I literally have nothing else to do. I have no hobbies, no friends, no place to go. Good thing I bought a nice tv. It would be a little less sad if I weren't broke too. It seems like it would be difficult to be more of a loser than that.

I'm still thinking about doing the diplomat thing. I have to order their book soon so I can figure it out. The next test is in October. Maybe that would be interesting. Then again, maybe it would suck. I don't know. But it can't get more pathetic than this. It's like I almost have a good thing going, but not quite. I have a cool job. I doesn't pay enough. I know a lot of cool people. They are all in relationships and too busy to hang out with me. I have hookups to cool things (parties, movies, etc.) and no one to go with. I have lots of jokes and no one to laugh at them. I have lots of artwork and no one to look at it.

I think I'm going to have to go to a wedding in September, and it'll be another event where I don't have a date. I didn't have a date for the last one either, and my gay date cancelled at the last minute. So I was forced to go alone. I went to the art opening last week alone. I go to the beach alone. Go to the park alone. Watch tv alone. Anyway, the wedding is going to be in San Francisco, so it'll involve a plane and a hotel, which will only make me feel more alone while everyone else isn't. It's going to be fairly pathetic. Can't wait.

All my married friends tell me how lucky I am to not have to think about another person and that I can do whatever I want all the time. I'm not really buying it. They don't have to worry about not having anyone there to help when they need it. They don't have to worry about what they're going to do with their other ticket. They don't have to worry about being alone on holidays and birthdays. They don't have to do everything themselves. I do. Plus they can have sex whenever they want. I can't.

Blech. Anyway, I'm still glad about the presentation. It's the little things that I cling to.

Slow Progress

I'm a giant doofus. I've only gotten through one book of research today. I did start another one, though. Today it isn't completely my fault, though. I took a little nap this afternoon, and the next thing I know, the old boy is calling me. He's just leaving his brother's house, and I know what that means. His brother lives about 3 blocks from me (or something like that; I've never been there, I just know it's very close). He always seems to make a little stop at my house after leaving his brother's, especially if he's been drinking. And there was some beer fest today. He just left. So he derailed my research for about 6 hours. I can't be too mad; I could have kicked him out, but I didn't. And everything was fine until an hour or so ago. We watched television for a while, and then I made some dinner and we watched an old movie with Russell Crowe and a horse in it. It was terrible. If I ever meet him, that's the movie I'm going to ask about. Not Gladiator or LA Confidential. The horse movie.

Anyway. So yes, I made dinner (a real dinner, with salad and veggies and a main course and everything) and he fell asleep on the couch while I was doing that. I just let him sleep so I could get a little studying in while he was asleep. It was a little odd, but only because it was more domestic than we normally act together. Anyway, so we ate, watched the movie, then watched Wall-E. Yes, there was some groping going on there towards the end, but that's it. Except for when we were wrestling and he bit me on the ass. Both cheeks. He has this thing where he likes to tickle me when he wants some, and I have a hard time preventing him from doing so, so it ends up being wrestling. Damn him and his long arms. I can't get away from them! Anyway, so the elephant in the room was the conversation I had with him the other day about cheating. It seemed like he was making a little bit of an effort to resist, but eventually gave in. Which is amazing, because I was in Saturday at home mode, in yoga pants and a t-shirt, with my hair pulled back because I haven't washed it today. And my laundry hanging in the bathroom.

He will never make sense to me. He's okay with coming over and seeing me at my least alluring, least mysterious, and most average. Not only is he okay with it, he's still attracted to me in spite of it. Or maybe because of it, I don't know. And at one point, his gf called and he didn't answer. And that was early, so he's probably calling her back now, several hours later because he was too busy hanging out with another girl. So we have all the normalcy of an established couple, but none of the actual relationship. And we only act that way in private.

Anyway, yes, I'm still trying to work on my research paper, and yes, the universe is plotting against me so I can't finish it. When I made the effort to stay home, someone comes in to interrupt. And now I may have bruises on my ass cheeks and rug burns on my elbow because of it. Damn my complete lack of willpower and inability to say no.

Dead End

I started working on my paper. It's not going very quickly. I'm not one of those people who can stay focused for long periods of time without interruption. So it goes: research, watch tv, check email (which isn't working right now for some reason), check facebook, eat something, play computer games, take a nap, then back to research. All along it should have just been research and more research. And now one day of my weekend is gone and I'm looking at the stack of 24 books I still need to cull through, and think about how long it's going to take to type 17 pages and I feel like it's hopeless. And then I think about the book I'm supposed to be putting together before Monday (pagination, typing, gluing about 200 pages). I have to return the typewriter I borrowed on Monday, so I have to figure it out soon. So yes, I am being crushed by school.

And yet the weirdness of my life continues. I got a facebook message from a guy I met last week. He's the friend of a friend, and he sent me a message to tell me he was "mesmerized" by me. Whatever. I sent back a polite yet funny and somewhat distant message, and he promptly asked me out. He also added that he's older than he looks, which doesn't help his case. I swore off older guys years ago. Anyway, it's a little odd that he's so enamored when he only saw me for a couple of hours with a bunch of other people. I don't even remember what we talked about. Nothing important, I'm sure. I did see him the next day at a gallery opening, and I had another guy with me at the time. Why wouldn't he assume the guy was my boyfriend? He's not, but under normal circumstances, it seems that it would be a safe assumption. Anyway, his enthusiasm brings to mind the other old guy, who in the beginning stared at me as if I was a unicorn or some magical creature and couldn't get enough of me. And seeing as how the other situation turned out, I'm not inclined to repeat myself. At least not in this case.

So I have a bevy of more or less normal guys who want nothing to do with me, and one old guy I barely know who thinks I'm amazing with no basis for thinking so. What is it with the old guys? I don't remember a time when old guys weren't hitting on me. When I was 19, they were 28. When I was 24, they were 38. When I was 28, he was 53. My guess is that this guy is approaching 50, especially since he said he is older than he looks. And most of them are men that don't know me very well or even at all, but somehow they can't stop staring. And they're probably wearing an ugly sweater ala Bill Cosby. Just the way it is.

So back to the research. It's all about memory, and I can't help but think about my own memories as I read the materials. My memories are all jacked up. I've never tried too hard to place them in a context, but I probably already have. It just makes me think about all the stuff I've done in my life and where I've gone wrong. And how my story is most likely going to end with me since there's not a big chance I'll get the opportunity to have any kids. So after everything, I'm just a dead end. Just like the paper.

Yesterday

My weekend has started. And I'm already procrastinating. But I'm planning on doing what I have to starting tomorrow morning. Library, research, research, research, writing seventeen pages. Oh, and I'm supposed to make a book in there somewhere, too. It's all coming down, just like every semester. I'm wondering if there are going to be any interruptions from the myriad of boys that are alternately ignoring and bothering me.

So the old boy came over last night. We watched a movie, ate pizza, drank wine. I told him his girlfriend was an idiot with no imagination because she hadn't figured out that he's been lying to her since the day he met her. Not the nicest thing I've ever said, but it could be one of the truest. I also reminded him that he never lied and cheated before that malevolent bitch of an ex burned him. I told him he was letting her get the better of him by becoming a worse person because of her. And he was becoming just like her. I also told him that I didn't think he's a bad person, deep down. I also told him I was mad that he's going to Buenos Aires and I'm not. Unrelated, but whatever. And then he gave me a big long hug. He stayed over, but nothing happened. He also gave me a big long hug before he left this morning. I also seem to have some strange memory of telling him I loved him, but I think I may have said it in my sleep, or right before I fell asleep. Yes, I'm an idiot.

I'm sure I said some other things that I don't remember, but those are the main points. Maybe I was too blunt with him. Maybe it comes off as me being mean. But I feel as if a weight has been lifted. Mind you, it wasn't a fight. It was just me talking. I'm not sure if he really listens to anything I say, but I hope he is. It's quite possible that he just takes me with a grain of salt. Whatever. At least I know I'm making myself as clear as I know how. Maybe one of these days he and I will have a relationship like you and I do, where all the crap goes away and we can just be friends. Not that you ever put me through the wringer like he has, but you get the idea. The attraction, the resistance, etc. Maybe in ten years he'll tell me he should have dated me too. Theoretically it should be gratifying, but I can tell you it isn't. It's like saying 'I wish I'd had the steak' after you already ate dinner. It's pointless.

Anyway, I'm hoping that he and I have reached a point where we can be around each other like (mostly) normal people. Sure, it's always going to be painful, but so were you for a long time. I got over it eventually. I'll get over this, too. I may never find someone who wants to be with me, but maybe I'll be able to find people who at least understand and accept me.

Old vs. New

Today I spent some time with an artist friend who is married and has two teenage kids. And I ended up spilling my guts about the new guy to her, even though the whole saga is pretty much over. But it still felt good to have someone who knows about it sitting in front of me listening to my craziness. But the thing is, I was pretty calm about it and didn't feel all that bad about it, even though I know I do feel kind of bad about it. How does that work? It's like the outdoor version of me is unable to reconnect to the indoor emotional version of me for any reason. I'm so much smarter when I don't pay attention to the indoor version. When she's locked away where no one can find her. Because she sucks. No one likes her. She's annoying and boring and pathetic. I need to make sure I channel outdoor me more often.

I have to go back to work tomorrow. I haven't been in the office since Thursday. It's odd. I love my job, but I'm perfectly happy not being there. I like being at home doing my own thing. And then the phone rings.

It's the old guy. Jerkface. What does he want? A chat. He wants to hang out tomorrow. Casually mentions that he's going to Argentina in July with his GF. I also happen to know that she's coming to town in a couple of weeks, even though he doesn't know I know. Thanks, facebook. So of course, I'm having a hard time containing my irritation that he's calling me, wanting to hang out. I say 'well, since you're taking another big trip, things must be getting serious, right?'
Him: "Getting?"
Me: "Or is serious. When you gonna make your move?"
Him:.....
Me: "Or are you planning to keep things the same indefinitely?"
Him: "Maybe."
Me: "Most girls don't want to just date forever."
Him: "Who doesn't want to do this?"
Me:....

And in my head I'm screaming at him. Are you fucking stupid? I hate that you treat me like this. I hate that you think that I belong to you even though you have never done a single thing for me to show you care even one iota about me. I hate that you still lie to me. I hate that you somehow think it's okay to do the things you do. And lastly, your girlfriend is a fucking moron. I can't believe she hasn't caught on to your bullshit yet. I have wanted to spill the beans on multiple occasions, and for some reason I haven't. Not because I think it will bring us together, but because I am just tired of the lies and I want her to know what a truly despicable asshole you are. You have been cheating on her since the day you met her, and she has somehow never suspected anything and thinks that you are some gift from god. For some reason, I'd like to let her see that you are just a guy with giant issues who can't manage to have a real relationship with anyone. Lies will always be what you do best.

I also happened to mention the upcoming horse show, and he expressed interest in going. I'm not sure if it was interest in going with me, or just going in general. The interest was such that he thought he might forego a BEER festival for the horse show. He never misses beer.

So in some strange world of his, he misses me and wants to be around me, even though there's no reason for him to want to be around me. At least no honorable reasons.

At least the new guy didn't jerk me around with a girlfriend and a bunch of lies. That's something.

It

I sent the new guy a text. And he answered. Kind of normal, but also kind of weird. Before he would keep texting about nothing; today it's one, maybe two. It's possible he was working and not really in a position to play, but it's still not what I'm used to from him. He did ask what my schedule is like. So we'll see what develops.

Still haven't cracked a single book for my paper. I think there's something wrong with me. I'm not usually so bad about getting this sort of thing done. Usually I have all sorts of research done by now, with pages and pages of notes and some idea of what I'm going to write about. The paper is due on May 17, but each person in the class has to give a presentation about their topic. Presentations start a week from tomorrow. I don't know yet when my presentation is, and I have no idea what I'm going to be talking about. Or if I'll need to bring anything. I don't really work too well without hard deadlines. I just hope that I won't have to throw a presentation together in 24 hours. Yes, I'm a slacker, but I know that I'm not alone. A lot of people out there are just like me.

So instead I make the books. I finished one yesterday and started one today. I also worked on another one that I'm hoping to have finished by Monday. Making books is actually kind of fun. It's kind of like putting together a puzzle, except I get to pick what the pieces look like. I also feel like I've been let in on a big secret so it feels kind of special.

I guess that's it: boy: meh. research: yech. books: yeah

Normalcy

I did a lot of work today. I finished one of the books I was working on, started another, and worked on another one but didn't finish. I haven't done any of my research. I really need to get something going on that paper. Tomorrow I'm going to be working from home, so I hope I'll have a little extra time for me stuff. I take my time at the office anyway, so it seems plausible. My living room, however, has paper strewn across it since it has become my art studio. Good thing I don't have a lot of visitors. The jerk boy was going to come over tonight, but then decided he was too tired and cancelled. I'm kind of glad. If he'd come over, I wouldn't have gotten any work done, probably would have drunk too much vodka, and would have most likely ended up doing something I don't really want to be doing. All sorts of blessings, I guess. Now that I think about it, maybe it's a good thing that everyone ignores me, since it gives me more time to get my work done. The universe is helping me to graduate. I guess I should just keep telling myself that. Maybe that will depress me less, but I doubt it.

It was good to talk to you. I know I lean on you quite a bit, but you're one of my oldest and most reliable friends. You've been there for me when no one else was, so I keep turning to you in desperate times. My only other friends is the one in New York, and she has a tendency to judge me for my weaknesses. She also doesn't understand why I get so lonely, so she tends to be unsympathetic to my issues, especially since she always seems to have issues of her own that cloud her ability to pay attention to what I'm telling her. Plus it takes her an hour to tell a 10 minute story, which drives me crazy. I love her, but I just have a hard time showing my vulnerability since she'll most likely answer with a "hmm...bummer" and then ask me what kind of organic ice cream she should buy since she's in the grocery store. Which also inevitably involves a story about what her cat can eat as well, which also makes me more hesitant since she sounds more and more like a crazy cat lady every day. Sure, the cat is cute and fluffy, but he'd still scratch her eyes out if she pissed him off.

I'd like to think I'm not a crazy person. I don't have any cats and I don't talk to myself (usually). I do repeat the same things over and over again and expect outcomes to be different, but that's a whole other sort of crazy that's only a part of me being desperate for something to be different and not knowing how to make it different. But I'm not crazy house crazy. Just boy crazy. Or something like that.

Anyway, we should talk more often. It's nice to talk to someone who knows about my particular brand of insanity and acts like it's completely normal.

To Do

I drank some alcohol last night to help me sleep. I was still up until 4 am, and now I don't feel so good. I didn't drink that much. I don't get it. What happened to me? Perhaps its the lack of food thing. I made popcorn last night around 3 because I suddenly was starving. I guess that's probably the worst thing about being depressed is that I don't eat so it messes up my drinking habits. I'm sitting here now thinking I should eat something, or have some water, but there's not enough reason for me to get up off the couch and do it.

There's also stuff I should be doing, but I don't have the impetus to do any of it just yet. I don't want to clean the house. I don't want to leave the house. I don't want to read and research for my paper. I don't want to make my book. I don't even want to cut the paper or print the pictures or sew the pages together. I just want to lay here watching Alias and wish I could disguise myself like she did and not worry about all this stuff that I'm worried about. I know it's bad when I start comparing my life to one on television. It's so ridiculous.

I have sharp knives in the kitchen. No one would know or care for several days, if not longer. And I wouldn't have to hurt anymore.

Trapped

I came home from work today and slept for 5.5 hours. And I did it for no other reason than I had nothing to stop me. No plans, no obligations, no conversations, nothing. And now I'm going to be up late and it's going to screw up my time schedule until Monday, because I'll have nothing to get me back to normal all weekend.

My hours were reduced this week, so I'm not working tomorrow. I won't be back until Monday. My paycheck is going to suffer, which means no fun for me in the month of May. And June. I'm feeling a bit trapped. I'm in a job I love, but its also a job I can't make any money doing, so every month I struggle just to make ends meet. Pay the rent, utilities, food, and gas. So every month my savings account gets a little smaller and my student loans and credit card bills get a little bigger and I don't have anywhere to go. I can't get a second job because of the demands of my first job and school because of the need for my schedule to be flexible all the time. Truthfully, I'm not sure I could handle the stress of a second job and still say sane anyway. And I can't quit because it's a job I actually care about and is relevant to everything I want to do with my life. You can't just throw those away for a job waiting tables.

So I'm trapped in a job that is financially a drain, but is important for my career. Like that internship you do in college, except it's not an internship and I'm too old to be so financially unstable. It makes me wonder how I'm going to manage in 20 years, when I'm old and retired and have no money in the bank. I'll end up as a Wal-Mart greeter and a hollow shell of a person who once had dreams and sold out for a paycheck. And is still alone.

I can't do this anymore. I don't know how. I need someone that I can talk to, someone I can lean on, someone I can confide in. And there is no one. I have no one around me that cares about anything I do. I could do the Howard Hughes thing and not come out of my house for months on end and it would make a difference to no one.

But I guess in a way that has already happened. I may not lock myself away, but no one is communicating with me. I might as well be locked up. I guess it's worse. I'm locked in. I can't get out. Everyone holds me in by ignoring everything I say. My work is the only place people respond to me, and it's the only place where I can't talk about any of this stuff. So I'm important to someone only when I'm not myself.

I'm so frustrated. I have tried to reach out and make contact on numerous occasions, and my voice echoes into a long vortex of nothing. So I thought I had friends and I don't. None. Which makes me feel even smaller. A person is nothing without friends.

Conversations

I'm listening to the neighbor have sex again. I think she's gotten laid more times in the last week than I have in the last year. It's kind of depressing. I'm still depressed. Today I found odd thoughts going through my head. Things that have nothing to do with anything. Why did someone paint over the green tiger by my work? I liked the tiger. How much of my life is off the record? How am I going to get to the airport in a month and a half? How will I get home? How am I going to learn Spanish?

I was on my way to school today and started having an imaginary conversation with the boy. It's that conversation that most boys are too cowardly to have, the one where they say, yes, I'm not interested in you any more, even though I led you to believe that I was really into you. And then they rattle of a reason or two for changing their mind. I usually think it's something I said or did or didn't do. Maybe it is.

So the conversation we had in my head went something like this:

Him: You are just so controlling. You can't let anyone else be in charge.
Me: I let you open that bottle of balsamic vinegar, didn't I? Didn't you feel like a big man then? By the way, it was kind of sexy the way you flexed for me before opening it to show me your big biceps. Not my usual thing, but for some reason, I liked it. It was kind of funny and cute.
Him: No. You always want to call the shots. You do your own thing. You call me when you want instead of waiting for me to call you. It's like you do want to give anything.
Me: You know, I've been taking care of myself for a long time now. I haven't had anyone sheltering me since I was 17 years old, and so excuse me if I don't hand the reins over to you after we've spent a few hours together and assume that you have my best interests at heart and that you are still going to be around to attend to my needs once I've gotten used to it. So sue me if I've learned to take care of myself. And god forbid I'm a little bit careful about giving control to someone I barely know. I probably would have eventually, but I suppose if you need immediate control of every little thing, then you've got giant problems that have nothing to do with me, and it's probably a good thing you're getting out now, because I'm not a pet. I'm a person with a brain and a will and things to do. So get out of my way. I have things to take care of.
Him:.....

Then later today I started going over everything again. Everything I said and did, where I could have messed up, what I could have changed. Oddly enough, I kept wondering if there was something weird about the sex. But eventually, I knew that there was nothing wrong with the sex. Not even a little bit. We both had a good time and it was fine. And we were laughing and talking afterward. And everything was fine before hand. And we weren't drunk. And he kissed me before we parted and said I'll talk to you later. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing strange. And then just nothing. And now it's almost a week later and still nothing. Part of me wonders if it's some sort of test to see if I'll wait around or not be clingy or whatever. Part of me thinks it might slip into a friends with benefits thing, which I'm not too keen on. And then there's the part of me that thinks he may have bolted because he was having a great time and was worried about getting too attached. For a guy who has no problem sharing random intimate details of his life, this is definitely an abrupt shift in MO.

The neighbors are done. She didn't get off.

Earthquakes

It seems like the whole world is shaking these days. Haiti, Chile, here, Sumatra, China...are there any places where there aren't any earthquakes? Or should I be surprised that there aren't more of them? It's like they're short spans of time where there's a whole bunch of drama and it doesn't have anything to do with me, and I didn't cause it and I can't change it and everyone is going to be a part of it. So there's something oddly comforting about it. At least, about the one that was here and didn't kill anyone.

The other earthquakes I think are a lot more terrible. The ones that have nothing to do with tectonics. The ones where I feel like my life is falling apart; watching when I carefully construct things, only to watch them be decimated in record time. I build walls to protect myself. All it takes is a few kind words and I start taking them down. So stupid. They need to be thicker. I try to build relationships, and then I watch them fall apart. Sometimes it takes days, months, or even years, and other times it seems to only take minutes. Everything down to nothing. Just piles of rubble with my insides squashed underneath. It's like the San Andreas runs right down my middle. There doesn't seem to be any stability, and I'm not sure there ever will be. If I could somehow manage to be completely content living as a hermit, everything would be still. And quiet. But no, I have to constantly search for other people to round out my life, so everything is constantly rumbling. They prop me up and then kick my legs out from under me. And my wind is gone. And I'm left gasping and wondering what the hell just happened.

And I think it's because I'm so misunderstood. People think I'm something that I'm not. They think I'm needy, clingy, or just plain crazy. I'm probably just nervous. Waiting for the ground to shift. Thinking I have to get everything out before that happens, trying to prevent the inevitable from happening. Like trying to stop the sun from going down. It's going to happen, and it's going to happen before you're ready. And so another person is then roaming around thinking I'm some kind of nut because I don't want the sun to go down yet. And they turn their back on my and I have to start rebuilding the damaged parts and retreat into a world involving my couch, my computer, and my tv. And not much else. Food even starts to be optional. All because I want everything to stop shaking so I can be properly understood.

Away

I need to get out of this city. This state. Probably even the country. If I was in a place where no one knew me, it wouldn't be so depressing that I don't have any friends. That no one wants to talk to me. I took a long hot bath tonight and wondered why I don't have any friends. I've lived here since I was 28, so no childhood friends. I don't play team sports (and haven't played any sports for almost 15 years), so no friends there. I'm older than everyone I go to school with, so no friends there. I'm the only single person I work with (except for the guy I think might be on crack--for real), so no friends there. Neighbors? Don't know 'em. So I guess that's it. I can't think of any other places where people make friends. So there's really no point in me being here. I have already failed. Maybe I don't deserve to have friends. Maybe I'm too selfish. Or too weird. But the point is, when I don't feel good, or even when I do feel good, I have no one to turn to. This blog/computer is all I have. No one answers if I call, so I stopped bothering. It's worse to leave messages that never get returned than it is to not even let the phone ring.

On a related note, the boy hasn't called. Or anything. Maybe he just wanted me for my taxes. Regardless, it brings everything back into sharp focus: no one wants me. No one has ever or will ever want me. They are more than happy to sleep with me, and that's where it ends. What is so wrong with me? How is only half of me sufficient? It's like there's this wall around me and everyone wants to climb it and peek inside, but not actually get inside. They want to see the wizard behind the curtain. These are really stupid analogies. But the truth is, I haven't been able to keep anyone interested for longer than a month for something like six years, unless they are only coming around for sex and the occasional cure for outright boredom/loneliness, which leads straight back to sex. And I'm so stupid, I always think they are interested in me as an actual person, and not just someone who gives great head. Or whatever it is. So I guess that's my problem. I'm just stupid. Unbelievably, irreverseably, undeniably stupid. Like goldfish stupid. It's like I can't even remember what happened the last time, so I go ahead and do the same stupid stuff over and over and over and over again. And I keep thinking it's going to be different this time, like the proverbial insane person. I think that he said this or he said that so he's actually into me, right? And then it's not different and he's not really into me. And so I spend the next week (or two or three or four...or years) trying to figure out what went wrong and why he doesn't like me or what changed his mind. Or if he always just thought I was nothing.

So there you go. That's why I should disappear. Go away where no one can ever find me. Not like anyone would ever look.

Refunds

I got my taxes done. It's all starting to be a strange trend. Whenever I have help doing my taxes, I end up sleeping with the person who helped me do them. Is that odd? So yes, the new guy came over the other night and helped me with them, and ended up staying the night. I'm not sure where it's going, or if it's going anywhere. He's an interesting guy, though. Smart, funny, good looking. Not my usual type. I usually go for the doofus. This is a guy who knows what to say, knows how to act, and doesn't seem to make it a habit to act like a moron. But at the same time, he doesn't seem to be the kind of guy who keeps secrets. He just is who he is, and you can either deal with it, or leave. He blurts things out and expects you not to judge him. Which is kind of what I do as well. I understand it. And I appreciate it. It helps us get along. It is such an odd feeling to have a guy say stuff that reveals what he's thinking. He said he was parked in a place where there's no parking starting at 7am, and asked if he needed to move his car. I told him I assumed he was going to stay. He said he rarely orgasms from BJ's (he said probably three times in his whole life). And so the ensuing conversation involved our experiences in successfully 'finishing'. And then I asked him if the whole BJ comment was to give girls a goal to aim for. He laughed. He got it.

We ate dinner. I made salad (it's all I had on short notice). We drank. We didn't get drunk. We had sex at night, then again in the morning. I have no problem blowing the guy who just got me a refund. I'm glad to do it, in fact. I probably would have done it without the refund.

He has tattoos. Did I mention that before? That's about all I can say about them. I don't even know what they are of, because I only see them when he's naked, and then I'm concerned about other things. The one on his back is a big black tribal tattoo, and I'm not a huge fan of it, but hey, it's not my body. Who am I to judge? Plus, a guy can be tattooed from head to toe as long as he's nice to me and makes the effort to get me off. Yes, he made the effort; no he didn't succeed. Not his fault. It just takes me some time to get used to a person. Plus it's been a long time since anyone but myself has even bothered. He'll get it, as long as he keeps trying. If he keeps trying.

What's it like to be in a relationship? I don't even know. Does it mean that we spend all our free time together? That we talk every day? That we know every little thing the other person does each day? That we know their friends? Family? Past? Future? I realized the other day that I really have no clue how to do things like a normal person. Should I call? Not call? How often should I expect to see someone I'm dating? Daily? Weekly? How long until we have to meet each other's friends? See each other regularly? Expect each other to be in our plans? Does that even happen anymore?

One more thing: his birthday is one day before mine.

Taxes

So this new guy is still talking to me as if he means it. And tomorrow he's supposed to help me do my taxes. Did I mention that he's a financial adviser of some sort? Anyway, as I was going through my bank and credit card statements, it occurred to me that by letting him do my taxes, he's going to see exactly how financially irresponsible I am. How is that going to work? That's like me being around someone who thinks that Wedding Crashers is the height of filmmaking. I'm suddenly a little scared about the whole thing. Course, I guess I'm always scared of something. I'm still not 100% sure that he's into me or if he just likes getting laid. I haven't seen him since last week. But he seems to be interested in something. Today he casually (yes, casually) asked me if I watched porn. While I indulge in quite a bit of off-color humor from time to time, his comments sometimes catch me off guard, which is a new feeling. It is rare that I'm left without a witty/pithy remark, but he's not someone I can one-up. He takes it to 11 right away. I'm still trying to decide if I really like this boy. So far he hasn't given me any reasons not to.

So anyway, I'm hoping for a big refund this year, since I've had to pay for the last two years in a row, and last year it was a whole month's salary and it really was painful. Plus I'm poor, so I shouldn't have to pay taxes.

Ridiculous

It's funny how the world works. Except that most of the time, it's not funny at all. I got laid the other night. Cool. He's on my facebook; has been for a long time. No big deal, right? Sure. So the other night, he mentions that he looked at some of my pictures, and I realized I hadn't looked at any of his. So I felt obligated, now that we've gone past facebook intimacy. There's nothing all that interesting in the pictures, but then today I'm glancing at some of his other friends. We have a couple in common, and I skim down to who else is in the little box underneath that. And lo and behold, I see a name I recognize. Not a San Diego name, but a name that recalls times from long ago. Serious long ago. High school. Someone I knew when I was 15 and living in Small Town, Middle America, and now she's living in San Diego and is Facebook friends with some guy I just slept with. And the first thing that leaps into my brain is this: did he sleep with her too? Yes, this could be a problem.

So anyway, I decide to follow this ghost from the past to see what she's up to. Here's her background. When I was 14, I was into horses, and so was she. I had scruffy horses and second hand gear, and she had Arabian show horses. I was the geeky girl with braces, and she had long, curly hair and was incredibly beautiful and tall and athletic and popular. In short: she was everything that I wasn't. So naturally, I'm curious as to what she's doing now. Gotten married? Popped out a bunch of kids? Still into horses? Well, based on the fact that she lives here and knows this guy, I would say no to all of them.

So here it is: I don't know if she's married or has kids, but I do know this. She FOUNDED her own real estate investment company and specializes in commercial and multi-family buildings. Translation: tons o' money. Plus, she's still beautiful. WTF? I have always held this naive belief that all those people that were awesome in high school would get fat and settle soon after the glory days of letter jackets and class rings were over. Not in this case. Not that I don't like her; she was always nice to me and seemed like a decent person. I just always thought the dorks would inherit all that is fun and awesome in adulthood. I doubt she has ever felt awkward or unpopular in her entire life. So sue me if I feel a little indignant that I actually KNOW someone who has led a charmed life for all the years that they have been alive. That there has never een a time where she has felt ugly, stupid, unwelcome, or unwanted. To be honest, I would be extremely surprised if she wasn't happily married with some awesome kids in a big beautiful house on the beach. She's just one of those people whose touch always turns things into gold. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit jealous.

So then this is the other prong of the issue. I just sexed someone that knows her, and I have no idea what kind of relationship they have. Facebook is sooooo vague. Dammit. Would she even remember me? I'm not so sure. Popular girls never remember anyone. Blagh. I think my life has some sort of clause written into it that says that nothing in my life can ever be even a little bit normal. There always has to be some weirdness that will complicate everything to a degree that no one would ever believe it unless they were there to witness it. Are you serious? The guy I just fucked KNOWS some girl from my hometown of 10,000 people, which is 2000 miles from here??? If you had written it, I would never have believed it.

This is ridiculous. My life is ridiculous.

New Schtick

Cut to the chase: I got laid. Normally I don't talk about it, but that's because it's usually with people I know I shouldn't be hanging out with, so I keep it on the down low. And maybe I shouldn't have done it this time, but I did, so there. This time it was with someone new. Not someone who has been jerking me around for 4 years. Not someone who has a girlfriend (that I know of). Not someone who ignores me. However, I have known him for several years in an acquaintance kind of way. He's friends with a woman I lived with a long time ago (like 4 years ago, actually). I haven't seen him since last summer, but we hung out the other night, and well, you know how it goes. Alcohol definitely makes things a lot easier.

Anyway, I'm not sure where it's going from here. There have been texts, but this is a holiday weekend, and apparently his roommate's birthday is Friday, so I won't be seeing him until some time next week. He promised to help me with my taxes. Yep, he's a financial guy. Who would have ever thought? I'm a little unsure of what to do from here. I already gave up the goods, so there's really no mystery. I have to rely on being really really awesome instead. That never seems to go well for me. Although truth be told, nothing ever seems to work well for me, so what difference does it make? I'm also a bit unsure of what's going to go on because many years ago my friend warned me that this guy was a bit of a player. At her wedding, me and another girlfriend of hers made fun of the fact that he brought a bimbo date and ended up having to sit at a table with a bunch of strangers because he neglected to RSVP for two. So I'm not sure what to think. He's fun, good looking, smart, successful, and charismatic. And an enthusiastic lover. He also has a giant tattoo on his back/shoulder (Mom would love that). But essentially, it's not all bad. It could be good. Or it could be a disaster. But I'm just glad it's a little different schtick and I'm going down a little different path.

By the way, Planned Parenthood is right next door to his house.

How apt.