I'm not ready for this.

I know Justin, or Cory, or someone will find my "new" blog, and should this post be on it, controversy would ensue.

Maybe this is Airbone Toxic Effect. Or maybe this is Sam's Octoberfest. Or maybe this is a reaction to Dollhouse. Or maybe this is hormones. But...I'm crying. For the first real time in nine months, I'm sad. Not only was I a smash tonight, but I was the biggest smash I've been in three years. And all of my time with Chris had prepared me for this evening. I knew how to speak to mom and dad (okay, my love for dogs and psychology definitely helped with mom). I amazed the shit out of Justin, who thinks girl WoW players who have watched Airplane and do watch Clone Wars are awesome. If he said, "I love you," once, he said it twelve times, and followed it with, "can you come over more often?" Mrs. L hugged me three (or was it four?) times. And Cory? There was nine years of longing in this evening. It showed in the anxiety of making me dinner, the entire 37-paged dialogue he wrote (that we read together), and each and every time he touched me.

The point of this rant? Fear. Alex has reminded me that if I want another man in my life, I will find a way to make it happen. I don't know if I can do that.

I lost myself twice tonight. After reading our dialogue (and the fact that I could read it, without serious fear, right there with him), and watching his expressions. The haunting of Chris didn't help (he liked to "watch" me and took pleasure in my pleasure; the "anxiety"), but he was easier to put out of my mind than I thought he would be.

I don't want to sleep, 'cause once I dream, I know it will be of Chris. He haunts me when I think I might like someone else. Really, I wish he wouldn't. I wish he wouldn't be the model by which I compare everyone. It's not fair...to me, to everyone, fuck, even to him.

In any event, I looked upon Cory twice tonight with emotion in my heart. Maybe it's the fact that it took us nine years to get to this point, maybe it's the whole of him, maybe I just wasn't able to be as strong as usual in the specific situation; I don't know. But I know I lost a little bit of my iron will. The fact that any emotion could eke out scares the ever living fuck out of me. Leaving things off as, "we'll talk," was good, 'cause there's no solid next time. We haven't made new hiking plans, or talking plans, or anything. It keeps me at my distance, the only thing I know how to maintain anymore.

But shit, if Liz was right this whole time would I have to invite her?

Let's just pretend I didn't think that. See? I do not want to think that!!!!!!!

Oh, and if I pull any, "what's going on in there?" (a/k/a "what are you thinking?") bullshit ever again, I'm escorting myself to the door, regardless of situation.

Done hiding.

I'm not hiding anymore, but I'm no longer posting to this site either. You can find me at WordPress these days.

The real "good bye"?

"Let it go,
Let it roll right off your shoulder
Don't you know
The hardest part is over
Let it in,
Let your clarity define you
In the end
We will only just remember how it feels

Our lives are made
In these small hours
These little wonders,
These twists & turns of fate
Time falls away,
But these small hours,
These small hours still remain

Let it slide,
Let your troubles fall behind you
Let it shine
Until you feel it all around you
And i don't mind
If it's me you need to turn to
We'll get by,
It's the heart that really matters in the end

Our lives are made
In these small hours
These little wonders,
These twists & turns of fate
Time falls away,
But these small hours,
These small hours still remain

All of my regret
Will wash away some how
But i can not forget
The way i feel right now

In these small hours
These little wonders
These twists & turns of fate
These twists & turns of fate
Time falls away but these small hours
These small hours, still remain,
Still remain
These little wonders
These twists & turns of fate
Time falls away
But these small hours
These little wonders still remain"

Screw it.

So much for my farewell, yeah?

I don't care at the moment who reads this. I've been drinking some wine, and I'm going to write one of my Daily Spark journals.

Task: "What was your most humiliating junior high experience? Write a short, possibly funny, description of it."

I'm not entirely sure I had one humiliating junior high experience that stands out above the rest. I feel like Frost Valley probably ices the cake, if anything. I opted to go on a nature-trip with all of the other honors eighth graders, packing my baggy red jeans and NYR boxers, which, for some reason I wore proudly like a boy. I proceeded to get my period on the trip, and tell just about everyone. Then I refused to participate in most things, got angry at the romances on the trip (Bess & Mark playing frisbee?! WTF?!) and sulked most of the time. I honestly don't remember much about the trip, save for the compost smelled funny and I was at a very awkward age. Our room named our toilet bowls Joan and Jane Flushing. 'Nuff said.

Oh eighth grade, you amuse me.

'Night, kiddies.

all good things must come to an end.

Dear everyone that reads this,

Those of you that have understood me, and know how I work, and can read everything I've written accurately, thank you. You've made my blogging experience worthwhile.

Those of you that asked me questions when I was difficult to understand, so you could keep my life straight in your head, thank you too. I'm fascinated that you were interested enough in the first place, let alone enough to make a clearer picture.

Those of you that did neither of the above, and simply chose to create drama based on something you neither understood nor knew nothing about, shame on you. I sincerely hope someone creates trouble for you after misunderstanding you and not being intelligent enough to find out any additional information. 'Cause you know what? That's extremely frustrating.

So, to keep the b/s to a minimum, goodbye my favorite blog evar. If you seriously want to read what I have to write/say, you can either become a master of the internets and e-stalk Google until you find me or you can ask me for my new blog information. Otherwise: problem. fucking. solved.

In conclusion:
Alex and I finally did have that talk I had mentioned I wanted to have, and as it turns out, I was pretty off. The only "information" she actually had for me was some hearsay that she classified as such and a lack of opinion/judgment because she doesn't/didn't know MD at all. So all of that "bad people" stuff I had mentioned was, a) the way I talk (I call people "bad people," but don't actually think they're bad; I just like the way that sounds); and b) based solely off of things that are inadmissible because they're either not firsthand or from forever ago. What she wound up telling me was that she had no opinion, because she had nothing to go on, but she would be happy for me regardless of what decision I made, so long as I was happy. That's why she's my friend. Because she's just amazing like that.

What hurts me most in the situation that unfolded because of a passing statement I made that was both fundamentally incorrect and never followed-up on, is that one of the people I love and am finally getting to see more often, got hurt by this. No one thought to ask me what it meant, or why I said it, or if it actually meant anything to me. What I find baffling though, was that after it was written, I didn't change anything. Did I stop talking to or seeing MD? If Alex's opinion was my driving motivation for follow-through, wouldn't I have been like, "aw, fuck this; she don't like him? I'm outtie."? I mean really. Am I that pathetic a person that I would take someone else's opinion and make it mine? I've spent all of my life proud that I don't do that. And what were those words I said less than twenty-four hours ago? "Even if he didn't like you, I don't care. It'd just mean I couldn't talk to him about you." Yeah. That's how I roll.

But instead, I'm spending my Monday evening writing a fucking farewell blog because I can't seem to write down thoughts without someone coming at me with intent to wound. Here's a tip for those people: if you ever want me to disappear, just continue to create drama. I'd much rather drop the people in my life that are involved than I would live with it. I will do everything I can to avoid it, so if you want me to go away, create it, 'cause I will be gone faster than you can finish your next uninformed potential lie.

Lastly: I'm dating MD. I've managed not to use his name, because, well, basically I don't think he'd prefer it coming up in a Google search on him later. But there it is: I'm dating him. Because I want to, and because he wants to date me, and because I enjoy the time I've spent with him thus far. Whatever happens, happens. If I've made it through James, Rob, Chris and Sam, I can make it through fucking anything.

Starting a new blog somewhere else from scratch might be good for me anyway. I can write without bias, knowing nobody I'm dating, have dated or am close (or not so close) friends with will be reading it. Ultimately, I do this for me anyway. So goodbye cruel world. Good luck in all of your endeavors.

the "good days" keep on comin'

Let's see, I got maybe all of three hours of sleep last night, after taking a three hour nap (through the Yankee game--falling asleep in the second inning and waking up for the post-game wrap up), but I woke up, had some freshly made pancakes (thanks, dad!) and coffee, then spoke with Verizon to see my options for getting off Chris's phone plan (has it been 5 months? whoops?). Lynn chimed in to remind me of a conversation we must have had about joining their plan and making a family one. So after some quick (okay, it took us a little while) calculations, we found it was advantageous for me to join in, with them only paying an extra thirty bucks a month or so. I'm not sure if I'll have to toss them the cash, but thirty is better than the seventy I'd be paying were I to go solo. So, basically, win.

Lynn asked if I would go with her to take the dogs to get their nails cut, so I agreed. Three dogs, two women and one five-year old filed into the truck and went on a nail-cutting adventure. It actually worked out well. I wish I could have held my Casey while she tried to get away from the event, but I was there, so I felt better about that at least.

KJ and I played army for a little while, until it was time for him to gear up for tee-ball team photos. I was getting my things together, but my dad tossed me a coach's shirt to denote I was in, if I wanted to be, on team photos. That made me happy, so I went with. Ten out of the thirteen kids showed up, and it was a pleasure to see them in a non-game environment, despite their still being in their uniforms. Anyways, the team photo itself should be adorable: my dad, myself and ten 5-and-6-year olds. Glorious!

I headed off to work following the photo shoot, where I spent almost two hours filing. This was my plan -- I was coming in just to file. The pile was huge, but I did EOBs first, then alphabatized the rest, then filed everything. I managed to find all but three files. One of them I'm almost certain is out of the office, so in essence, I'm actually only missing two files. This is a much better record than the last time I tried filing, wherein I was missing a ton.

After the work interlude, I came home and napped for a while, trying to catch myself up on the lost sleep of the night before. I stumbled out of bed just before six, showered, cleaned up my clothes and stuff lying around and chatted with mom while I did my hair and makeup. MD picked me up at seven and took me to an Italian restaurant in Babylon, which was quite nice. I feel the spiteful urge to write, "I haven't had good conversation and laughed in a long time," so there it is. But in actuality, I'm not an asshole, and that's not true. Anyways, it still was good conversation and laughs and such. I'm invited to Wildwood in August. I'm supposed to get on a roller coaster. I need to get on getting that tattoo I've always wanted. Aside from these things, if MD seeks to change anything about me, he's done for. But they aren't person-compromising, so I think I'm okay with them ... for now.

After dinner, which included a fabulous desert of a "Bomba" -- chocolate & vanilla gelato with a cherry center covered with a dark chocolate shell -- I stopped home to change into something a little more comfortable and then went to MD's sister's apartment. Both sisters & brother-in-laws (well, one's a to-be, but the other is already) were there. Lisa & Gary came by, which I imagine was kind of because usually MD goes out with them on Saturday nights. We basically all sat around drinking beer, daqueris, or wine and watching True Blood episodes and then Harold & Kumar Escape From Guantanamo Bay. [[Side note: I love you, Neil Patrick Harris.]] We chatted and laughed and just hung out. It wasn't awkward at all, and I couldn't help but think I could settle in there fairly easily.

So it turns out Gary & Lisa are celebrating something of someone's tomorrow at the Beer Garden. They were in the process of inviting MD when my attention was caught, mostly due to the fact that I'll be in Astoria tomorrow afternoon/early evening helping BGM and Rob move. I all but invited myself to the Beer Garden, but I know MD would not only not mind, but would be thrilled were I there. So technically I will probably see him tomorrow. Aside from the little "we haven't really done anything yet" awkward, I'm comfortable with that. I might be too exhausted to stay very long, but I'll at least make an effort. Beer Garden new memories take 2: new relationship memories. Hopefully a person or two from the Astoria gang will be willing to come by with me so someone can actually give me an opinion of the boy and I can prove I have freinds. Heh. I think I scared MD though, by explaining some of the snobby ways of that group. I was embellishing slightly, I think, but I do that in my head anyways.

For now, sleep is beckoning. I'm already thinking about the next few days: Sunday-the move, Beer Garden; Monday-Verizon store with Lynn, work, visiting post-surgery Juliette & maybe making her some dinner; Tuesday-work, then a break? nah, probably seeing MD; Wednesday-work, then treking to the Bronx to go to a Yankee game with Tom; Thursday-aside from work, probably nothing, maybe relaxing; Friday-work, tee-ball, staying at dad's. Whew! I'm tired just thinking about it all!

'Night, kiddies. Here's to getting my move on with six hours of sleep under my belt. Hrm, I wonder if BGM & Rob will let me take a nap in their new pad...

quickie.

Heh. Quickie.

...anyways, It's like three hours past my bedtime (for tonight, at least), so Im'a make this quick.

- created yet another alt, this time on Deathwing, to play with MD the newb and his sister, soon to be brother-in-law and already brother-in-law. Figured I'd try to make a new shadow priest, but I know that'll get old at some point. I could just PCT the one on CC, but I kinda like playing with Mike, Rob, Jesse and such. Not that I do often, just that I could. And I would make a little "linda-rule" that I would not be on when my nemesis was. Simple as that.

- I'm pretty sure I was going to do something productive tonight, like clean something or finish my book, or look into grad schools, but nah. MD said he was playing so I found the group and joined in. Must've played for, oh, I dunno, three hours. Sheesh. Only level 8. Lamez0rs.

- Tomorrow I'm going to try to get to work at around 8:30 in the morning...which puts me at about 4 hours of sleep. I'm okay with that, mostly because of the three hour nap I took earlier. Whoops. Still loves me some napping.

- Tee-ball too, if it doesn't rain. Supposed to be some scattered thunderstorms. My favorite. (And no, that wasn't sarcasm.) I'm gonna stay at dad's, play some WoW, get on learning the whole Yankee lineup thing, and finish my book. Goals for tomorrow, huzzah.

- I'm also going to try to start using my Daily Spark book for Journal Writing. I bought that thing back when Rob & I lived in BK, and I think I may have even started using it. But it's so long ago, that any record is probably gone anyway. Not to mention my memory is so shot, I probably won't recall what I wrote in the first place.

- Not sure if I actually ever noted this, but I got four As and one A minus this semester. So it's easy to see that my shitty life last semester was the cause of my crappy Bs. I think I might take Mood Disorders again. But I guess that would be in my last semester anyway, 'cause I've got this upcoming one already situated. I'm taking: Natural Disasters, Environmental History, Politics and Society, Psychology of Prejudice and Drugs & the Brain. Know what's funny? I feel like Chris & I would probably be better for each other now than we ever were. S'a shame that ship sailed and it'll never come back 'round. I mean, there are certain things we probably could just never get past, but the more I "find myself," the more I find we'd actually have a lot in common. Heh. Go figure. In any event, I kind of like being the secure one. Not that I expect that to last forever, just that it's adorable to watch someone play the role of "Linda."

- Alright, sleep. Let's do this.

But seriously...

Tomorrow I go on a date. Like a real one, with a guy I like, that thinks I'm fucking awesome. I tried to tell him I wasn't, but I couldn't even convince myself. I actually don't even know if I'm going on a date. I know we're getting together. I know I met his sisters, and I love them. I know things could go really fast, but I won't let them. I'm scared out of my fucking mind.

Scared of what? Who the hell knows. I make a fool out of myself? ...whatever. I offend him? ...could I really? It doesn't work? ...wouldn't be the first time. So why why why???

Jo thinks this crushing part is the best part, but I don't know. I kind of like the comfortable stuff without the awkward wondering and whatnot. Will I get "you're so great" text messages forever? Probably not, but those die down in any relationship, I think. And if they don't...auto-keeper. <3 affection. <3 you to death.

HAHAHAHAHA

I just can't help but laugh. See the lead singer in this song? In January, I was enamored by him. In February, I couldn't get him off my back. I just think it's hilarious how much sex changes opinions. My crazy Valentine. Eh, I got roses.

I could tell stories, but I'll spare Mr. Ryan. If he hasn't stolen one (or several) of my songs by now, I think I'll give him permission to play them. So long as it doesn't come with dating!

Starting to see a connection...

I had a phenomenal weekend. So much so that I'm doing something I seem to do when I get scared. I start going over '07-'09 again. I get sad. I listen to horrible music, like Quote by Evans Blue:

Quote, you are my soul, unquote
Now does that sound familiar?
Kiss the boy and make him feel this way

Quote, well this is me, unquote
You have been so ugly your entire life
So why change now?

Is this how you want to go down?
Right before my eyes
You are the saddest sight I know
You're quiet; you never make a sound
But here inside my mind you are the loudest one I know

Quote, we never talk, unquote
And that's when I don't answer
Don't you dare ask why
Because you don't want to know

Quote, well woe is me, unquote
How different I've become
And no one understands, my dear, no one really cares

And you were right, right from the start
It took everything you had, but you finally broke my...

And now the old things will pass away
I saw your light once
Did you see mine?
But not all things will pass away
You turned your light off
So I turned mine, away from your sadness, away from the nothing that you feel for me

Is this how you want to go down?
Right before my eyes, you are the saddest sight, I know
You're so quiet and you never make a sound
But here inside my mind you are the loudest one, I know
And you were right, right from the start, it took everything you had, but you finally broke my ...

Quote, hey listen 'cause I'll only say this once
I finally found the words
That mean enough to me
Good bye my soul, unquote

I'm starting to think this is some kind of mechanism my brain turns on to create defenses. Last time I did this I had decided I liked SH and wanted to let go of my past bullshit and worry only about the future. Should have made that the present, but better off I didn't, or I'd be just another stupid girl.

Anyway, I'm 116% certain MD is nothing like SH. The things that made SH appealing made him a douchebag. The things that make MD appealing are the things that should. I don't think I'll go into this stuff right now, because part of me is convinced he's found this blog and simply going to sit there and read what I think about him before actually hearing it from me. Then again, the way I work he'll hear it wayyyyyyyyy later, 'cause I'll keep it all safely stored in defensive-land, where my dominating thought is, "I don't even know you." It's a bad sign when you meet a sister or two and immediately think, "don't like her; it'll just be more difficult later." Or, hell, maybe it's a good sign.

Well, he's now aware I have stupid emotional baggage that I'm purging. That's...um...good? Fuck, man, who cares? He stays, he goes, what does it matter? But he gets it. And maybe it's cause of where he is right now, because that would explain everything (I've been there, I know), but regardless of why, I think I'm pretty lucky right now. I should think about that and maybe consider getting some sleep. Stupid naps.

In closing, more Evans Blue:

if it's no ones fault, there's just no one to blame
and nothing to say
this time it's no one's fault, so there's nothing to save
and no one to hate
but I want to so bad...believe me

A "good day."

Today, albeit a busy day, qualifies as a good one. I was at our Lake Success office at 10:30am and done at 2:30pm. Having forgotten my gigantic local clams and pasta, made for me by my new office manger, I ventured out to Stony Brook to collect my yummy treat. I stopped to work for about two hours, but it was okay, because I got a lot done and I'm prepared for tomorrow. Also, I guess it can also be looked at like I made a bunch of money.

Anyways, I brought my delicious meal home, heated it up and had it for dinner at 7. Then I went to get Mike from the train station and bring him to Liz's to pick up the new member of his & Jenny's family, N00b (which I will not spell without zeros, ever, no matter how incorrect it might be). I drove them back to Astoria and when I went to text Liz that they were home safe & sound, I had a text from Raab, telling me he thought I'd be out (and he had a cookie for me). Since I was but blocks away, I stopped by McGinty's for two (yes, only two) drinks. It was initially a small group of people in honor of Joe's visit, but it quickly dwindled down to Raab, BGM, Ricky and myself, where we shared another drink (the second one), some silly laughs, and good times.

I stopped for street meat before heading home, mostly because the last time I did that, I did not get to enjoy it and had to throw it out the next day. On the trip home, I sought out MD via text. Thought about texting SH too, but I reallllllly don't want to do that. So I asked MD about a hang-out offer I had received from a mutual friend, to see if it sounded like he was asking me on a date, which we agreed. MD said he should tell him to keep his hands off of his kool-aid. A little (girly) party of me went, "eep! he called me his kool-aid!" followed by some weird "it's new, and it's not really anything just yet," emotion. I let it go at that and didn't respond to that particular message, but another one, and we said "good night," and stopped chatting.

I need to talk to Alex. She thinks MD is bad people (or maybe just bad people for me), though I'm not entirely sure that's true. Laying it out (briefly) for Joana, it seems like we have a lot in common. But, for some reason, I'm hesitant. I think it's the "it never friggin' works out" fear, but some of it is, "don't rush shit, Linda." I clearly make that mistake wayyyy too often, and I think he does too. Oh well, maybe it's time I find someone else that does that, so we can be foolish together.

Orrrrr maybe I should shutthefuckup, enjoy life, and stop worrying about stupid boys. Yeah. Yeah, I'll do that.




...but....but he called me his "kool-aid."

Now I must be EXTRA stupid.

I didn't get uber-angry, or come up with some way to "trick" a response. But I'm a big fan of understanding, and if something goes awry, I want to know why. Even if it's entirely my fault, or even if it isn't something that can be fixed, or even if it makes me feel bad, I still want to know. So I asked. And I offered that answering me would get rid of me faster. And then I poked, but not in a naggy way, in a "duuuuuuude wtf?!" way. And, forgetting I changed my WoW toon name, I said 'hi' in game. Then had to explain who I was. Whoops. No real getting out of that one, so seeing as I was getting a response, I did the "WTF?" thing. I got some answers. Not particularly good ones, but not particularly bad ones. I threw the stupid ball at him, and said, "whatever." The part that kills me was this was in game. I still can't get over that. Anyways, it'll be what it'll be, I guess, even if that's plain ol' nothing. I'm not a huge fan of not having that control to decide if it'll be anything, but I'm not shutting myself off to the rest of the world either. I just...kinda liked him, is all.

In the realm of things that are part of my normal life, tee-ball was exceptionally fun today. It was allllmost rained out again (today was a makeup game). The other team had maybe 6 kids show, while we had about 9 (out of 13). The kids had a "tickle the helmet coach" moment, until I called "tickle break." Kellen was a monster that needed less sugar or a tranq shot or something, but he makes me so happy. Cole cried because I "moved his spot," in the lineup, which was adorable. Every kid loves to bat last and hit a "home run," except Cole, who couldn't understand the concept of 'rotation' and why we were doing it. I wanted to hug him and squeeze him and tell him he could bat anywhere he wanted in the lineup. Of course, when he realized last was, like, a cool spot to be in, he wanted back in. Dad's a little hard him, though, but I liked the way he said, pitching the ball to his son, "swing hard, like you want to kill me." Maybe that's 'cause I'm just a teeny bit screwy in the head.

My dad, on the other hand, complimented my LI song and discussed Tim's comment about adding harmonica & bass. This is a little very weird for me. I feel like Tim should maybe stick around in my life, though I sent him a response explaining that I didn't think we'd be "good" together. He wanted to know why, and the part of me that wants to know why about stuff (see above) answered him, 'cause it was fair to, and I respected that. Anyways, dad wants to mix other stuff into my song, and was really proud of me, and well...that made me happy too. I kinda like my family now.

Oh, and side note? Love achievements; love daily quests; need intervention.

What am I, stupid?

I let you "have a chance." For what?

I let you know everything I was afraid of.

I let you see how silly and how crazy I really am.

I lied to one of my absolute best friends, because you convinced me it was a good idea. Now we're not even speaking, and I don't know how to fix it, or what exactly is broken. But I know he'd make me forget about you.

I actually cared. This is new. I haven't given a shit about anything in five months.

And what'd you do? The same thing you said you wouldn't; the same thing that is your "nature." But I knew all along, I just didn't want to believe it. As soon as this is cleared from my system: never fucking again. (Not that I'm never fucking again, just that I will never get this involved with anyone. Ever.)

Everyone told you not to do that to me; I'm a good girl. But since when have you listened to anyone, really.

Do I need to find a new WoW guild? Can I just leave you on 'ignore'? Can I ever LARP again? No need to worry about gchat; you're successfully avoiding that well enough for both of us.

Today's funny dictionary word is "naive." I feel like the universe is laughing at me.

"I look at the ground
and give the sky the middle finger.
Something inside said
'Here's a day you should remember,
so mark it on a wall.'

I never believed it could happen to me;
something like this only happens to dumb girls;
taking themselves too seriously;
I was so damn smart,
I was the one girl
who never believed it could happen to me.
Something like this only happens to somebody else."

-Dumb Girls, by Lucy Woodward

all over the place.

Here's another one of those random blogs.

- Wanted to take a Positive Psych summer course online, but really don't want to give up my summer. So I'm not.

- Poof-be-gone situation #2. So much for the "begging for a chance" of February/March. Fuck men.

- An ex is fucking a friend. They knew each other before he & I or she & I had met, but still. The ex is no longer my friend now. Especially after the gossip bullshit came out last night drinking with a friend that was my BFF in high school, and now works with the ex.

- I don't feel like being around people anymore. Selfish, nasty creatures. Right now I'd like to put three or four of them into a flesh-barrel and set it on fucking fire. So douchebags and weasels and liars can burn eternal.

- Now to return to my regularly scheduled beating-the-fuck-out-of things on my computer. Today, Blizzard, you can be my friend.

some super positive happy shit.

Holy hell, temporary insanity. I started today on kind of the same path as last night, but work turned it around. I was forced to do things with people I don't hate. For once, work was welcome. And mind you this is immediately after getting a call from Gucci.com to ask me for more information about my order...if you know me at all, you'd know I definitely didn't order anything from Gucci.com. So evidently my credit card information was snatched from the interwebs at some point. I immediately called AmEx. Nothing was charged to the card (yet), but 700-something dollars was pending authorization. So if and when I see that/those charge(s) pop up, I can call and report fraudulent activity. Lighting up a stress-relief cancer stick, I thought, rather ironically, Shit. Could it actually get worse?!

And it didn't. It didn't necessarily get better either, but it leveled itself out. There was work. And school. And both of those leave little room for crazy thoughts. Fortunately, we did some meditation practice in Buddhism. I wish I could list all of the things I brought to mind when instructed to focus on 'anger.' But I think people pretty much know what has pissed me off, so there's no real need to list anyway (plus, who wants to leave incriminating evidence?). The meditation was definitely relaxing enough to calm me down some. It didn't make me happy, as it was supposed to, but that was because I couldn't come up with the "happiest moment of my life." I came up with some happy times, which were as intricate as sleeping under my grandmother's arm during thunderstorms when I was younger or as general as petting a puppy, but nothing that stood out above the rest. Slightly disappointed, I polled a few friends. Two out of five answered, which made me feel a little better because the other three were like, "damn, I don't know." So I'm not the only one. But I should really start thinking about that. And meditating. Who knows; maybe it'll help.

Anyways, I'm stalling writing my Buddhism paper and writing out some answers to my Ecology study questions. There's only 100 of those to get done by Sunday. Final's next Wednesday, too. Looks like it's going to be a busy two weeks.

...good.

No, really. I came mostly out of my funk. I'm back to defending myself the best way I know how--completely crushing any feelings that come up. Aside from this weekend, it's worked really well. I keep to myself, always keep busy, and stop stalking. Once I get those down, whatever happens, happens. No matter who fucking likes it or not.

reflections of a crappy-ass weekend.

Friday I can't talk much about, but I can say the Blue October concert was fucking phenomenal. I love those guys so much, especially live. As for the rest of the night, it went downhill. I got emotionally nostalgic and then in almost a lot of trouble. I played the "get out of jail free" card, to its most literal extent, and have not been the same since. Aside from shame and embarrassment, I am disappointed in myself. For the past few months I was doing what I thought was quite awesome, and then it took a turn and I feel like I'm damaging myself. And I can't tell what came first: the turn or the boy.

In any event, my Saturday was changed due to my Friday night, but I did manage to have a pretty good lunch with Chris (this is a whole 'nother Chris; there are like 9 in my life), who came to my rescue (the second time--to give me a ride). I was also run through an instance by Rob and Sam, but that doesn't make WoW matters any better; I still can't do the shit myself. But whatevs, I leveled my undead whore to 68 and made it to Nagrand. I still don't feel like she's mine, you know? I played 63 levels on fucking 'follow' for the most part, and only now am I trying to figure out what the hell the game is even about. It looks to me like a time-killer, but lately...well, I've been so down, killing time works. I won't get into the other shit I had to mentally deal with last night 'cause it already put me over the top of my stress-limit today. In short, I'm a hot topic of conversation. But I'm pretty sure I set the need for that aside today, and for all the wrong reasons this time.

Today I did the MS Walk, for which I raised $750. Rena was supposed to come with me, but she went to a bachelorette party last night and did not get up in time. I forgot to expect her not to come, but fortunately I'd done it often enough in my past, that I was fine. I think being emotionally fucked-up from everything made my apathy all the stronger. In any event, what made me most happy about the entire event were the dogs. I chose Belmont Lake because they were hosting the "Pooch Parade" and I knew that meant there would be some 30-odd dogs at least. There were. I pet lots o'puppies.

And I walked. I walked in front because I guess I'm kind of an impatient walker. I have a faster default pace than most, I think. I don't know if it's a city-related thing, or I'm just that impatient a person. It rained, the entire time. I started out with a raincoat on, hood up, but after loitering before the actual walking part for a while, I opted to just let the rain fall on me. Halfway through the walk itself, I took the raincoat off. I was wearing a long-sleeved shirt with a t-shirt over that and a sweatshirt over that. I'm not entirely sure why I dressed for the tundra, but at least I could shed layers, and that made the rain kind of refreshing.

At 10:30 or so, the walk was over. Mind you, it began at 10. I had only begun my inner reflections around the last bend or so of the trail, so without much thought, I shed another layer, geared back up, and went for two. As I walked again, I wondered why I opted to do it. Did I feel like one "lap" was cheating? Then I thought back to an episode of House wherein Wilson goes for a walk in the bitter cold without a jacket. House figures he's either lost his mind and actually forgotten the coat, or he was punishing himself. So I thought maybe that's what I was doing.

Punishing myself for what, you might ask? Not having enough self-respect, mostly. For playing a game the deep, inner workings of my soul knows I can't win, but still playing anyway. Maybe that's why my brain lost control and I've felt like a crazy woman for days. Referring back to my setting aside the need for conversation, well, I started to slowly stand up for myself. I semi half took it back, but the damage is done. I am officially back to insane. And the only way to cut the crap is to cut the apron strings. As referenced by my prior incredibly brief blog post, everyone wins. Except me, but I did that to myself. Regardless, walking two laps, in the rain, without warm clothes didn't punish me enough. I spent the remainder of today doing that mentally, and tossing around the remainder of events from the weekend.

I hope I can snap out of this at some point, 'cause I'm not sure I know how to live like this for very long. I don't want to talk to anyone. I don't want to do anything. I'm not hungry, I'm not thirsty; I just want to sleep and turn my brain off. As a matter of fact, I didn't do my paper (due Wednesday) so I don't even think I can get better than a B in Buddhism. Although the B wouldn't kill me, I should still write the stupid paper. I took books out of the library and all. And seeing as there's still two evenings to write it...

If I could only come up with the motivation. I'm utterly pathetic right now. And what's worse is knowing it is magnifying it. Fuck, I sure hope I come out with some super positive happy shit tomorrow or something.

everyone wins.

New plan: I date no one. I sleep with no one. There. Now not a single person can have a problem. No real sense in hoping for a "chance" either, 'cause there are none.

Everyone wins...'cept me, I guess. But what I was doing to myself wasn't healthy anyway. I'm much more sane when I'm alone. I think I'll take the loneliness over the fucking crazy.

concession...out of desire or being wounded?

I'm going to start changing names to protect innocent people. For this story, I'm "seeing" James and am being e-mailed by Paul.

Brief background on Paul: We hooked up a few months ago, for a very short period of time. He's still very hung up on an ex of over a year ago. His career goals are a little out of the realm of probable. I stopped seeing him because...well...he was a little clingy. Or maybe the word is controlling. I don't know; a combination of the two, I suppose.

I get an e-mail from Paul the other night, asking how I've been. I give the short story: school, work, family, and politely ask how he's been. His response entailed a request for a date when school is out. My first thought? Let's see where James stands on "us." 'Nowhere' is clearly the answer. The word "relationship" scares him. That's fair; we haven't really spoken to/been seeing each other very long. But in meeting him I realized I didn't really want to be involved with Paul.

So if I agree to this date--am I doing it because I really want to? Or because I'm just a little bit hurt by James's pseudo-denial? Am I subconsciously lowering my standards, or just my self-esteem? Is Paul a pick-me-up, because I know he'll be enamored by me?

I suppose I'm going to have to give him an answer soon. There's nothing "stopping" me from going, so I probably should just go. It's a date, not a marriage proposal. I'm just not a huge fan of dating because it presents itself; I'm a fan of dating because I am actually interested in pursuing something. And I don't think I am, with Paul. Of course, I am interested in such with James. Ah, well, I just keep telling myself there'll be other Jameses.

That might be my answer right there. And anything less than the truth is lying.

subjective opinions.

Unless you read an automotive journal, Consumer Reports, or have worked on automobiles long enough to be able to take them apart and accurately comment on what's going on "under the hood," how often should you be using the words, "X is better than Y"? I've had five cars thus far in my lifetime: a 1987 Dodge Charger (not the cool one; the one that looked like a Plymouth Duster), a 1989 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme, a 1997 Chevrolet Cavalier, a 1997 Volkswagon Cabrio Highline and my current 2007 Ford Focus. I have had problems with each and every one of these babies, and rightfully so--cars fall apart, ultimately. Aside from hearing from some unknowledgeable teenage asshole about how "plastic" the Cavalier is versus the "strong, metal" Cutlass, what information do I have as to the durability of these cars?

The answer is none. I would be basing anything I had to say on my particular experience. It would be biased, and it would be inaccurate. Yet I see this happen all the time. I am constantly in contact with people who think they are automobile connosoirs, and only twice have I ever spoken to someone who's built a car, or taken an engine apart.

Eh, I suppose I'm being snobby and cranky. I've been awake about fifteen minutes, so I suppose the sleepy has something to do with it as well. I guess what I'm trying to say is stop making comparative judgements based on absolutely no scientific information! At least all I can see that comes from it is an aura of ignorance. Who wants that, really?

for all the right reasons.

I was going to write an "in yo face" blog about all the good things I have in my life, and comment on how weak and stupid my dream blog was, but...well..."I don't want to be that guy anymore." Writing some "I'm better than you" public information is cheating. No, it's vain. Vain and immature. Two things I have had trouble escaping. So here's an additional effort to do so. I am two weeks away from summer and things are surprisingly good; no need to try to make myself feel like a level competitor. I'm finally starting to feel like I don't need to do that. Which is kind of amusing really--I win; know why? 'Cause I don't care about winning.

Wait, don't get me wrong here: writing about the good goings-on is wonderful--encouraging, even--but doing it as a reaction, or in a boastful way, that's where things get screwy.

Anyway, onto other stuff... in about 4 minutes I'm going to force myself to sit down and write my Long, Strong Island paper. You know, the one that accompanies the song, so that I can get that A. I played the song for the class yesterday evening. At least 60-70 people sat and stared as I capo'ed the second fret of my pretty new blonde baby, played G/C/D Am/D G/D/G/C/D/G over and over and sang what seemed to me to be lyrics that would never make the cut. My teacher spent the five minutes following my perfomance praising me and making the class aware of specific lyrics. In short, I was a hit. Being such put me on a high horse for the remainder of the evening too. I think I drank 4 "celebratory" beers, played some WoW with Mike, talked to the two people closest to me atm, put on the new Depeche Mode album and danced and laughed all night. Holding Buddhism class outside on the lawn (and getting hit on by some 20-year old cutie) definitely helped the rising spirits too, but they were before I even played the song. ;) Okay, maybe it was wearing that dress too. I can't help but think about Chris telling me I looked good in it as I strolled down Clyde Street the day he signed the lease on his apartment. I think that picks me up an extra confidence point or two.

So the best few days I've had in a long time were Saturday-Tuesday. I'm still not out of the scared-out-of-my-mind woods yet, as my trust is still at a dangerously low level, but I'm workin' on it, and I'm determined. 'Cause no matter what happens ultimately, I get something good out of everything I do. Unfortunately, I can sometimes see what I'm going to get from someone way early in a friendship/relationship/interaction; I just hope in knowing what that is, it doesn't coincide with a forseen "end." Then again, what did I just finish saying? Even if a relationship of any kind ends, I still get something from it. So it shouldn't really matter, should it?


The answer is 'no.' But I'm still not a fan of "ends"!