Marriages, farting and old flames, OH MY! Ha ha.
Random quote: “I know why the T-Rex was wiped out. The Ice Age came, and their arms were too short to knit sweaters. They were sitting there, thinking, “Crap, my arms are too short. ROAR! So….cold.” ----Craig Ferguson
Good golly, I need to get it over with and ask that man to marry me. Wonder what he would say? “Um, security?!?” What, what girl DOESN'T want a man who can make her laugh?
Current Mood: Awake
Today was fun, and disgusting. I’ve been trying for about eight days to get my scanner/printer combination to work, and frankly I just don’t see it happening. Throwing in the towel and realizing that it simply IS NOT going to work is probably the best thing at this juncture. I am not bitter, though. No sense in it, after all the thing did serve me well for like four years. That’s longer than the average marriage nowadays. Then again eight days is probably longer than some marriages, look at Britney Spears’ first drunken marriage. Heh.
So I can’t post any more pics on myspace for a while. I know, every one of you who may read this someday is secretly heartbroken. Try to contain your grief.
Anyhow, things here have been well. Only thought about you know who (and if you don't know that's for me to know and you NEVER to find out.....**evil laugh**) once, which is good for me. I have been exercising my right to being random, (I wonder if being completely random is a sign of autism or insanity,) and overall just enjoying spending time with good people. Last night was especially interesting. I was hanging out with some friends when all of a sudden Steven (an old flame, in which the spark was more from me than him,) cam breezing in looking absolutely fantastic. I wanted to shoot him for strolling in looking so good. So he talks to every single person there, owning the room as he always did when I liked him. Such a player, yet he’s so friggin’ charming he knows it, which is dangerous. Any guy who KNOWS he’s charming is dangerous, ladies. Remember that.
So anyhow I casually make my way over to him and we engage in the ridiculous small talk that we always do when I see him. He checks me out, I can feel him doing that when I look away. A teensy part of me wonders if he can tell if I’ve lost weight, but then I remember his mother. Ah, yes, the lovely woman who thought that I wasn’t “suitable” for her “up and coming” boy. Well whoop de do, her little boy (Steven’s younger brother,) got some girl pregnant and was forced into a shotgun wedding, so nobody’s a saint. Anyhow, he tells me he’s thinking of going back to school for his master’s, and he’s currently working in nuclear medicine (NUCLEAR MEDICINE!!!) at one of the local hospitals. I tell him I am slowly working towards my master’s degree, but shoot; after he said the words nuclear medicine anything I said would have seemed small. Trivial even. So then Val comes in later on and tells me he’s single again, Steven broke up with his fiancée when he realized she wasn’t the right one. And just a teensy weensy part of me thought……hmmm. But you know what I did, dear diary? He was hanging around for a LONG time, and every time I turned around he was RIGHT BEHIND me, but I walked away. And I feel pretty good about that. I can still remember the way his mother looked at me when I tried to help her pass her CNA test. Such disgust in her eyes. Like there would never be any way I would be enough. And there’s no way that the quirky relationship between him and his parents there would ever be a way for me to belong. Besides, he’s a player.
Honestly, these last few weeks have been like, déjà vu of the exes. The only one I haven’t seen lately that I went out with is Daniel, and I hear that he’s lost his license for good on all those DUI charges. Such a shame, he’s a nice guy (and built like an underwear model. Whoa.) But hey, I guess this is a way for me to face my fears, so to speak. Face my mistakes, wake up and see what my life would have been like, and know that I am better off because of what transpired. For instance if anything would have went on with Steven I would not be working, going to school or driving, because that’s the way his family believes according to their religion. I don’t want that for me. Heck his mom doesn’t even wear makeup or cut her hair, and the first time she saw me I had a pixie haircut and tons of eye makeup. No wonder she hated me. She probably thought I was some cling-on hussy looking for a nice rich boy to marry. No thanks, I’ll make my own dough, wear makeup and drive myself to work. And with Daniel I probably would have to bail him out of jail every week and drag him out of the bar every weekend. What sort of life is that? Not much of one. It’s not really worth all that just for a hot body. Eventually with all that alcohol he’s going to turn into Flubber, so that nice body is gonna fade away and the alcoholism will live on until HE chooses to quit. Another example of how me liking him wasn’t enough for him to quit. Oh well, I can’t be someone else’s babysitter.
So anyhow, I get hit on last night by this 37 year old. He’s like, “Yo, do you know you are a good lookin’ woman?” “Um, thanks. You know, I REALLY have to go, take care now.” At least he didn’t spit chewing tobacco spit on the ground after he said it. That would have just taken the cake. There’s only one 37 year old I would like telling me I am good looking, but he’s a movie star and frankly I’ll never meet him, so enough of that garbage.
**Sighs.** Single in the city. That’s me. And since Misty is now engaged to that ridiculous nincompoop, I am the last of my friends to be single. Even Pam is super serious about that…..what’s his name….Chris I think. Christina is getting married very soon. Crap, even Justin has had the same woman forever. Maybe they are right, I am going to be an old maid. Heaven knows that by the time I get my Master’s degree I’ll probably get hit on by the guys who see a woman who has a little money and think they can mooch off of me. Perhaps I never will have anyone who will see the real me. Perhaps I should be used to it by now. Perhaps, perhaps.
I guess for one thing I am told I intimidate some people. Not my friends, and certainly not my parents. They could still knock me into next week. But people that I don’t know very well say that I am intimidating to them. I am 6’ tall, sure. I’m a bloody Amazon. That’s no secret. But I guess it’s that combined with working in a supervisory position, using “big words” so to speak, and a few other things. Things that I have no real control over. I can’t change what can’t be changed. Good gracious.
Another thing which I find more than a little aggravating is the leering from the old men. Not the guys at the nursing home, they’re old and most of them have dementia, so they can’t even remember where the bathroom is, let alone do any harm. But the leering from these old perverts in the outside world; be it at a gas station, grocery store, or even the infamous Laundromat (Remember the “Are you lonesome” thing? That guy was back last week. **Shudders**) Some of these people are so gross about it I feel like I need a bath by the end of the day. And I am sure it’s not just me, good gracious I am not conceited about this or anything. But geez, I feel like I’ve been stripped naked when I go to the grocery store. Sometimes I will wear a hat or no makeup, and STILL there’s nasty people who abound. What do they really get out of staring at a tall blonde chick with a big butt? It’s not like I am some side show circus performer like the Bearded Lady. Gimme a break. Its occasions like this I would rather be invisible. I know you girls know what I am talking about.
So I am standing in line this morning at Kroger. Never mind the fact that it’s like one in the morning, I am shopping at Kroger. I like shopping that time of night, because you practically own the store. Sometimes I feel like doing something nuts, like seeing how fast I can fill up a buggy with poultry ala Supermarket Sweep. But since there’s cameras in there I resist the urge. So anyhow, there’s a good looking man in a distinguished suit and overpriced loafers behind me, and these two eegits about 20 years old in front of me. All of a sudden it smells like rotten eggs in the aisle. Now I know I DID NOT do anything, and the businessman doesn’t look like he’s capable of letting out a fart. Therefore that only leaves two culprits. They have this ridiculous Cheshire cat grin on their faces and proceed to give me the infamous “Joey” look from “Friends.” How you doin’? Ugh. And men consider this attractive? Honestly, when the express lane opened up I was never so happy to get out of there in my life.
If this keeps up I am seriously going to see what the nunnery has to offer, and I’m not even Catholic.
Oh well, I will write something more flirty and poetic another time. Have a good night, and God Bless….
A toast to free spirited ways....forever!
Current mood: artistic
I’ve been neglecting you these days, I know. It’s sad that one of the few certainties in my life is that I still have the ability to write, even though I have been slacking quite a bit. And yet in these last few weeks I haven’t really had that much to say. Inspiration just hasn’t struck me with much of anything profound. I don’t suppose that’s a bad thing, for if one were to sit and ponder anything profound every single day I would think they would go mad. Either that or they are baked every single day, and that’s not my thing.
I have learned some things over these last few weeks as well, and I have been busy with various get-togethers and other things with family, friends, and boring co-workers. I have eaten enough food to feed a small village for three days, which I think most of us do around this time of year, though that doesn’t make it justified.
One of the things I have learned is that if life continues on this path I am on, I have no intentions of ever getting married. That’s right. NEVER. And I’ll be just fine with that. Too many times I have heard of people who are miserable in their relationships, and I think to myself, “Why on earth would I want that?” Then after they talk about how sad they are, they attempt to smooth over the situation with, “Oh, but YOU’LL find someone.” Yeah, right. This is the girl that if there’s a ½ chance of getting a free prize under a pop bottle lid, “Please try again.” So I don’t foresee this ever becoming a reality, no white knights to rescue damsels, no men of honor and valor and all those things that used to be important. These girls that I have talked to, my great friends (and some not so great friends) all talk about how great things were in the beginning. But then the husbands changed, became controlling, demanding, and verbally and physically abusive or simply treated them as though they were invisible. They took no stock in their dreams anymore, because their dreams died when they married these men. By this time the women have children, and to not break up the families they stay with the men who in essence……break them. Break their spirit, break their confidence, and make them believe that without them they are worthless. I would rather spend the rest of my days without any sort of suitor (do people still say suitor? Who cares?) then to live my life under the thumbnail of someone else. It would kill me, more painfully than any wound ever could. I have big dreams, and while this may be construed as selfish, then that is my choice to make.
I love my family and friends. I have no idea where I would be without my family, and though they aggravate me sometimes to the point of sickness, they are blood. Nothing can take that away. Nothing. And real friends, not those people who sit there and claim to be BFF or whatever other ridiculous acronym and then stab you in the back. I had a dinner last night with my four closest friends, and I truly think that it was just as therapeutic for every member of this little group sitting there. There’s the girl desperately trying to break free from her parents, even using a man she doesn’t love to get away, though she’s miserable because it’s not the man she really cares about and secretly pines for. There’s the lady who has had the most amazing love affair with her husband of almost 40 years, who tells great tales of her and this man that she loves forever. And she considers it an honor to eat with us….no; it’s us who are honored. There’s my wild and crazy friend who just found out she’s pregnant...and her eldest will graduate high school soon. And let’s not forget my other great friend who longs to break free and be allowed to be herself, but a selfish man keeps her from HER dream. And then there’s me….the dreamer. The girl with her head in the clouds who is trying to find her place, her path to greatness. We’ve agreed to meet if nothing else once a month at the same place, to just sit and catch up on us. Just us. Our lives. What a priceless gift friends are.
Another thing I have learned about myself is that there are some things in this world that make me very happy, having nothing to do with relationships or romance or any of that nonsense. I love to write, for one thing. My English teacher introduced me to it long ago, and Nick helped me get reacquainted with it, through this blog for one thing. And though Nick is no longer available for comment, for he has made himself unavailable through making promises to talk at this time or that and then not being there, knowing him was not a total loss, for he taught me something. Regardless of who the person is who enters or leaves your life if you have learned something from them then it wasn’t a total loss in their departure. So wherever you are Nick, be safe, and do great things with your life.
I love shooting photographs. I love everything about it. I love going out and seeking that next shot, I love the energy that surrounds me while I set up, I love that feeling when I have taken the shot, and I love the creations that I come up with. Granted there are shots that are terrible, and I contemplate the lighting or the angle or whatever tedious little flaw that could have been improved. But it makes me feel….alive. Really alive somehow. It’s almost as though whatever is going on in the universe is somehow all right through making something beautiful.
I have learned not to take most social interaction very seriously, especially those which involve the Internet. Let’s face it, most people just get on there and blah, blah, blah with someone else because they are bored, not because they wish to find a longstanding friendship with anyone. So take everything which is said and done on the computer with a grain of salt. Out of the people I have talked to this year via the computer, only one has been there through it all, and that includes my two best childhood friends: Richard. He’s a great man, and I suppose he’ll do great and wonderful things with his life. I wish him well, and I value his friendship. God Bless Richard. And God Bless Pam and Justin too, my friends throughout much of my life in this state. I know whatever choices they make they’ll be the right ones, because they’ll be the choices they want to make. If that makes any sense at all.
I have learned that I am very very independent and “hopelessly flawed” as Jo puts it from “Little Women.” And I am ok with that. I don’t have a perfect body, and I have a bad temper at times and sometimes I wear my heart on my sleeve (which I intend to change that,) and many other things. But this is me. God accepts me, my family and friends accept me, though for whatever reason I am not sure. So it should just make sense that I should accept me as well.
I have learned that I have loved once, maybe twice. It’s not really my fault of the one, for I should have known better than to trust a conniving pothead whore. It’s entirely his loss that he did not want a good woman. But the other was entirely my fault, for I could have had the love of someone very amazing, and yet I threw it away. And now he has moved away from here back to his home in the same state as his parents, and I haven’t seen him in almost a year. Dear Heaven, how I miss him, and how I mistrusted myself. He was the only man since my birth dad that has ever intimidated me. And yet he inspired me at the same time. Caring for the one was like nursing a wounded soldier, but caring for this man was like tending a wildfire with a bucket of water. Totally different, and yet utterly the same result. And yet I am not bitter, or resigned, or depressed. Content, that’s the word. Content with me, content in the knowledge that I did indeed care twice in one lifetime. And content that I have amazing stories yet to be written, secrets yet unheard, beautiful and haunting places left to see, and mysteries to unravel. My spirit is intact, my heart is healing, my mind is as full of ideas as ever, and my life is out there. Soon it shall be time to get out there and grab it.
Merry Christmas, and God Bless. C`est la vie.
Closing One Chapter and Opening another…My Life is Waiting…
Current Mood: Relieved, seriously this time.
Today is a good day. A day of discovery. A day of hopefully utilizing some inherent wisdom. A day for me to finally come to grips with reality and get back my sense of self-respect. Yep, today is a good day. You know who has lied for the last time, to me anyhow. He lied about where he was going last month, he lied about his very sexy relationship with another woman, he lied about his drug use (he claimed he didn’t do anything for months,) he lied about not knowing it was me on the other end of the phone when she picked up the phone. All of these things could maybe possibly have been….I hate to say it…overlooked, had it not have been for the fact that he lied. A guy told me yesterday, “It’s impossible for a man to always tell the truth to a woman.” Well, that’s where you are wrong. This woman would much rather has someone tell her the bloody truth than to have to hear it from another source. Obviously though I loved him dearly, my love wasn’t enough for him. It’s a shame really, having your heart stomped on. It’s not a total loss if you learn something from the situation. And boy I know I have learned something about myself and life in the last few days.
But in any case, it’s done. The past cannot be changed, nor do I think I would want it to at this point. I have spent the last month of my life blaming myself, hating myself, cursing myself and doing things and saying things that I had no business doing or saying. Now I have to answer to God for those actions. I think the breaking point for me was when I had literally stressed out so bad that I had given myself a migraine. The worst one I have ever had in my life. It was the kind that has the nausea that’s so bad you wish you could purge just to relieve some of the tension, but you can’t. So I am laying there in the fetal position when I think: is this really worth it? Is this really the path you want to take?
So today is the first day in one month where I feel absolute peace of mind. I let myself smile, not a forced thing either. I laughed already a couple of times, and it’s only 8 am as I am writing this. I hadn’t laughed in nearly two weeks. It feels good to laugh.
I believe that this is truly divine intervention. Yeah, call me crazy. I don’t really care. I am going to get my self-respect back. I am realizing that I need no validation from some guy to understand that I have self-worth. This is my day to be my own cheerleader. There is a real sense of finality to all of this. Finally, after weeks of questioning everything, questioning who I was and the very things I believe in, I feel…..free. It’s as though I was carrying around a boulder, and last night it was lifted off of me.
It feels good to be back among the living. I am reminded of the new George Strait song, “She Let Herself Go.” That’s gonna be me. No, I wasn’t married, but I felt…obligated somehow to be available in case….in case what? I am not even sure anymore. But I do know that I feel more alive today, more sure of myself than I have in a long time. The old me is coming back…I’ve missed her. I think it’s time I catch up to Sally, my sister in the Quarter-Life Crisis. Except, it’s not a crisis anymore. It’s a conviction…
Watch out world…Ladyhawke is alive and well.
A Serious Self-Analysis of Potential Relationships over the Last 12 Months
Current Mood: Bemused
I do think that this year was the year for disastrous relationships. Strike that, they weren’t even relationships. Crushes, potential relationships, failures, and unabashed tales of unrequited love; that’s more like it. I think that along the way I have learned a few things about what not to do or where NOT to look for a guy. Come to think of it, looking for a guy gives me gas. Not really, but it does kind of bring a sense of self-pity and forces one to eat massive amounts of mint-chocolate chip ice cream, which in turn can cause gas/bloating/nausea/guilt/weight gain. Any of the aforementioned side effects puts me in a bad mood, which in turn makes everyone around me cranky, and that’s just not fair.
And since I am the only one who chances are will read this, I feel compelled to be as completely honest with myself about it, putting these lessons into writing so as NEVER to forget them. They are in random order, and no silly rule is more or less important than the next.
Rule Number One: Under NO circumstances do you let your date pay for your food until at least the eighth date. Failure to comply with this causes nothing but undue heartache on your behalf, due to the fact that the man will come to…..expect a reward for his chivalrous paying of your meals. So save yourself the whole, “So, when are we gonna… you know? I have paid for like all your meals this week.” Yeah, that’s foreplay. And when the guy asks you this ridiculous and piggish question, get rid of him.
Rule Number Two: Do NOT ever, EVER make the first move. Make him embarrass himself by attempting it. Better yet, date a guy who would ask permission to kiss you. That way he’s putting any potential intimacy at your disposal, and if you find him repulsive you can simply say no.
Rule Number Three: For Heaven’s sake, be honest about everything. Not so honest that you air out ALL your dirty laundry (some things really SHOULD be kept a secret, exes and such,) but don’t lie to a guy. It’s so much easier to tell the truth then to try to tie it up in a fancy lie. If he can’t handle the truth, ditch him and find someone else. Trying to cover up your imperfections with lies is really lame.
Rule Number Four: If you sense that it is really not going to work out, don’t prolong the inevitable. Leading someone on is simply one of the most horrible things you can do. It really is. Girls who do this are disgusting. You don’t want to be disgusting.
Rule Number Five: If you are the kind of girl who dates more than one guy at a time, it is really in your best interest to let both guys know that you are seeing him and someone else. If either one of them has a problem with this, you are going to have to break it off with one of them. Jealousy is a powerful and dangerous thing, and let’s face it, there’s some freaky people out there. So be upfront.
Rule Number Six: Long distance/Internet relationships….will NEVER work. These poor souls (I was one of them, so I KNOW what I am talking about) who think that a guy is going to be monogamous while you are so far away are really fooling themselves. And as far as the Internet thing, frankly people can pretend to be anything they want to be, so either meet the person or stop fooling yourself. Just make sure if you ARE going to meet someone from the Internet that you have at least three other people with you AND you are in a public place. That way if you were expecting Brad Pitt and you got Bubba Gump, you can take your friends and high-tail it out of there.
Rule Number Seven: If you have any doubt about whether a man is gay, he probably is. We’ll leave it at that.
Rule Number Eight: Convicted felons, former assassins, people who are in trouble with the law and/or a person who has more firearms than the local police station do NOT make for a great time. Trust me.
Rule Number Nine: If you think that you are only dating the guy, you are very wrong. You are also dating his mother and dad, his cousins, his friends, his job and his goldfish. If you cannot handle any of the above, leave while you still can.
Rule Number Ten: When in doubt, don’t. If you really need an explanation to this, you are more pathetic than I am, and that’s saying something.
Rule Number Eleven: Never date a guy you work with. It just makes for a sticky situation when things don't work out.
So that’s some things I have learned about myself in the last twelve months in the realm of relationships. If nothing else I will read this someday and maybe even take my own advice. Of course there are many more rules of engagement, dear diary, so stay tuned for those.
Ten things never to do at a Laundromat...
Current Mood: Amused
So I was sitting there at the Laundromat today, and I thought about some things that I know I should never do there. And I don't think I will again, simply because that place is extremely hazardous to your health. Anyone who has had to undergo the extreme grossness of the Laundromat for the sake of semi-clean clothes will identify with at least a couple of these. Good times, heh.
Things I will never do at a Laundromat.
1. First and foremost, I will never attempt to meet/hook up with a guy I see at a Laundromat. Anyone who has seen my red, black and pink underwear with the turtles on it and I have never even so much as gotten a dinner out of it has already had way too much intimacy with me with no reward on my behalf. And truth be told, they are usually there with their girlfriends and are just looking to see if they can get some action on the side. (I don’t foresee that relationship lasting.) Either that or they are the horny foreign guys who live in the apartments upstairs and are looking for the same thing. Seriously, do you think calling me a “hot blonde taco” in Spanish is going to melt my heart?
2. I will never attempt to bring a guy with me to the Laundromat. I saw this one guy today that was with his girl while she was folding her underwear (I don’t understand why people fold underwear in the first place, but that’s another argument) and she asked him for help folding them and he looked so uncomfortable it made me feel sorry for him. Girls, if you are so neurotic that you fold your underwear, don’t drag a man into it. They only want to remove them from your body, not fold them like Holly Homemaker.
3. I will never wear anything suggestive to the Laundromat. Today I saw this chick wearing this skin-tight outfit and high-heeled boots. Seriously, when you are at the Laundromat you are supposed to dress for comfort, not look like some cheap desperate housewife. Furthermore, I was wearing my cute little shirt I got from Wal-Mart that said “Lonesome Café,” and some dude mistook it for an advertisement, and proceeded to ask me if I was indeed lonesome. Uh, no, there’s a girl with high heels that might fit that description. Please go away now.
4. I will never look at anyone from the Laundromat for longer than three seconds. If you look at anyone from the Laundromat for longer than this time they assume one of two things: One, you are going to steal their dryer; or Two: you want to sleep with them. Frankly, I normally am just trying to figure out what kind of soap powder they are using.
5. I will never use the bathroom at the Laundromat. There are no locks on the doors, so the pervert who wanted to know if I was lonesome would have a clean opportunity to see me naked (“Oops, I didn’t know you were in here.” Yeah right.) In addition to this potential embarrassment, let’s not forget that the vandals have stolen all the soap from the dispenser, and taken all the paper towels and shoved them down the commode. In addition, there’s usually something sticky on the walls and/or floor, and I am sure nobody wants to know what that is.
6. I will never have sex at the Laundromat. See number five for further clarification.
7. I will never go without checking my pockets for pens one more time while at the Laundromat. I lost my very favorite shirt, the one that makes my cleavage at least two sizes bigger than it actually is, to a gel pen. The shirt put up a valiant effort, but let’s face it, gel pens go everywhere when they break.
8. I will never forget to bring a book with me to the Laundromat. I think they used to have magazines there, but they went down the stopped-up commode with the paper towels. Most of the time when a man sees a woman with a book, he assumes she’s too smart to have sex with him, so he leaves her alone. And he’s right. I’ve never seen Russell Crowe at the Laundromat, and anyone else just doesn’t compare. Ha ha.
9. I will never ask an elderly lady if she has change for a dollar at the Laundromat. A lecture will ensue. Something about not having Laundromats when she was your age and how she is NOT a bank already, so why do people constantly ask her if she has change. It’s just not worth the hassle.
10. I will never ask the maintenance guy why my washer/dryer is making a funny noise. The fact that a Laundromat even has a maintenance guy is puzzling to me, but I digress. He will either laugh at you as though you are a crack head or he’ll proceed to rip the entire contents out of your washer/dryer. Thongs will fly if you make this mistake, trust me.
These are some of the things to avoid while enjoying your miserable stay at the Laundromat. Hopefully it will keep you from suffering embarrassment or acquiring an STD. If not, I am sure that the high-heeled hussy or the lonesome pervert are still hanging around, go ahead and take your chances. Until next time, take care and God Bless, and stay away from all men/women who ask if you are lonesome. Only Elvis could ask that question and get away with it, and he's dead. Or pumping gas in Minnesota, whichever you prefer.