Young, Restless... and Random

It's 12:30 a.m. and my alarm is going to start squealing in 5 1/2 hours. I was really falling asleep during the 11 o'clock news... even cut it short for fear of leaving the t.v. on. But, somehow, my mind started reeling randomly... about my fantasy art studio and whether or not I should add it on to the house or build it at the very back of the yard. Huh? What sense does it make to concern myself with such things when I have all of $900 spare dollars in my bank account and plenty of other repairs that must precede this desired draft house. I immediately surrendered the idea of pursuing sleep and got up to make myself a cup of mint tea. I then was easily entertained with "mint tea... it's minty," and, well, I continue to digress!

I've just made another cup.

Here comes a confession: I've been watching "The Bachelorette." Yes, I'm ashamed, but you must know that I'm not watching it because I truly want to. I think I'm watching it because I'm desperately searching for a reason not to cancel my cable service and spend that $70 a month on something more meaningful than 100 some channels of absolute crap. This debate has been on-going for at least a year now. Why can't I just let it go? I honestly don't watch that much t.v. in the first place.

To continue in the theme of randomness... while watching "The Bachelorette" I searched "how to find love" and came across an article that was semi-interesting and mildly intellectual. Perhaps I could have paid more attention to it, but that would have required my inquiry to be serious... and I just don't believe finding love should be so analytical, calculated, and planned. But, I also apparently suck at it! Interesting, but not interesting enough for me to investigate! Anyway, one of the suggestions the article makes is to make a list of your ideal mate, right down to height, occupation, personality, hobbies... you name it. Hmmm. I've heard this a few times before. However, it gives me a "Weird Science" kind of image when I think of drafting the plans of my future mate and seems entirely unnatural. And if I were to stay true to what my list would entail... I would be single well into my 50's at minimum! The sad truth is the kind of man I truly desire is unlikely to reside within a 50 mile radius of my home, and more likely to require a passport to visit me.

The article did mention "settling" and something about sticking in relationships that aren't really working and therefore distracting ourselves from what we really want. Ironic, because my on-again-off-again (more off than on) fellow of over 10 years asked me out earlier in the evening and I agreed. At one point in time, I secretly referred to him as my husband, meaning I envisioned us married somewhere down the line; however, any nuptial notions have long since passed and never returned. We just haven't been in the same proverbial place in years. I don't think it so wrong to spend time with him. He's a friend after all. It's comfortable. Safe. Familiar. We laugh together. Aren't concerned with false impressions or insecurities. A hell of a lot better than unwittingly going on a blindish date with someone from an online dating site in my book! I've been craving more social interaction and that's all it really is. Lately, I've been working, or basically spending time at home, and not always wisely. I think I'll stick with my plans and save the analyzing and calculating for the weekend.

And I Try... And I Try... And I Try!

So... I tried. I tried to be open with a boy; and I was! Unfortunately, he happened to be a very emotionally immature 41 year old, and (if I'm being honest) I'm left wondering why I even try dating anymore! It seems like everyone is travelling on some bizarre alternate plane and they never connect on the same one. If you decide you'll just have a fling they want to get married before they know your last name. If you try to take it slow, they hit the gas... and if you just go with it... you crash into a brick wall!!!

Thankfully, some girls filled me in on Mr. Not-so-nice guy's M.O. so I don't have to punish myself for failing as a human to understand a man. But I am wondering if finding a compatible mate is really this difficult. Fuck, I've been dating for over 20 years! And even though these bastards we call boys and men seem to run me through the ringer... I'm still ready to play with them! Am I a masochist? I mean really!

So the alternate plan... well... it isn't a plan per say... but I think I'm just going to approach future dating like a man. I'm going to do whatever whenever... WHOever I want!!! I don't know if that's progressing or digressing... but it sounds good to me!

Puking, Sneezing, Pneumonia, and Pussies

So much has happened... can't capture it in a genuinely eloquent blog...

But I can give you a synopsis:

I had the stomach flu.
I had a chest cold.
I had allergies so bad I actually took medication for the first time.
Mr. Nice Guy had pneumonia and his daughter... roseola.

We had some (still) understood dispute over text messages.

He still hasn't spoken to me directly, but sent me some text messages...

And now I see has deleted my pictures from his Myspace, removed me from the #3 spot and ramdomized his friends...

JUVENILE ASS PUSSY!!!!!

This is all hot off the presses... so yes... I am a super pissed, a little hurt, and extraordinarily disappointed in his behavior. Because he is not mature enough to talk about it I am left to draw conclusions... which could be a) he's running scared even though he was the one that was coming on strong b) he's a serial dater and can't be alone c) the catty cunt at the show was right d) he's just a pansy!

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!

I want the hell out of this town. I need a vacation!!!!! Fuck this!

Iris Eyes a Smilin'

Despite my brush with death via disgusting gastro-intestinal distress... I have had a fabulous week! There have been challenges... yes... but just like the iris in my garden, things are lookin' up!

Work has been a lot more peaceful since we've shipped off most of the grants we have been writing, and I've continued to earn praise from my boss; a critical plus, considering we may very well face budget cuts come September. My only "complaint" is that we have switched to summer hours which means no one works in the office past noon on Fridays. Normally I'd be singing "Glory Glory Hallelujah," but now I have to find a way to squeeze four more hours into my work week on another day. Unfortunately, that may force me to once again violate my "me-day" (Monday) and risk distraction while I'm in the studio. A small sacrifice after ten long hard months of unemployment, but after being asked to have my art in an upcoming exhibit, I'd really like to focus on what I'm doing and attempt creating my first "masterpiece."

M.N.G. and I continue to weather the little storms that come our way, and he still magically calms my troubled waters. Tomorrow night, he's taking me out for dinner, and then we are going to his parents house for family game night. His sister and husband, brother and wife, will be joining us. A big to do! I'm interested to see how this goes. So far, I get along with everyone famously, but I suspect his mother is trying to solidify our bond. Not a bad thing... I'm simply wondering if an intense interview is in store! And who's going to be the victim? Me? Him? Us?

I've worked out three times this week! (Last MONTH I worked out once.) Admittedly, part of my motivation comes from the jealous bitch that claimed me to be fat and ugly, however, the majority is my need to stabilize my mind. I'd love to tell you that I'm one who is dedicated to an honorably healthy lifestyle... but the truth is, I just do it to keep my spirits up and my anxiety down. Oh, and this time, to fit into a super cute pair of capris that are just a little snug on my hormonally plumped mid-section. Some other "excuses" I could use to keep my exercise non-plan going: my 20 year class reunion is in July, my birthday is in July, and M.N.G. is taking me on a camping trip in July (read bathing suit in front of people GASP!), and I'm spearheading a community event that involves competing against about 4,000 other people in various athletic events in September. I still doubt I'll attend my class reunion... but the other "excuses" are going to happen. Couldn't be a better time to get back in shape!

My brother, mother, and I have enjoyed some nice bonding time. The three of us haven't been together in over 20 years as a family, and he's really tackling her clutter! There's a dumpster in her driveway now, and I have no doubt that he will fill it. That's about 5 really long blogs... so I'll leave it at that.

I treated a girlfriend to a pedicure and lunch. She treated me with a tanning visit. I haven't had girly girl time ever! I really enjoyed it! She's been such a big support to me over the last few years and I couldn't make her engagement party. Having the opportunity to show her that I truly appreciate all that she has done for me and don't take her for granted meant a lot to me... and my toes look great too!

An exciting weekend is in store!

You Know You're "In" When...

You know you're "in" with your boyfriend when...

He tells you he thinks his (heterosexual and married) sister has a crush on you.

HIS mother lectures him, beginning with "What are your intentions with her?" And ends with "you just need to buy a house and stay with her."

He sends you messages like "You rock my world when you smile baby," and "just keep being you honey, that is the best." Let's not forget the "<3 U."

And you know you're really "in" with a caring, and understanding man, when you can text him "But I don't wanna be sick! I want to be with you! And I'm not puking lately. It's better than the stomach-acid-burned throat, but shitting buckets of water is just gross!"

That's right. Our first bodily function themed conversation. I'm SICK! And tonight was date night, however, something tells me that isn't going to happen... that it shouldn't happen. Here I sit, in bed, in my ugly brown sweats, hair sticking this way and that, and a pasty glow about my face. My lips are crusting from the resulting dehydration, and I posted a "Keep Out" sign on my bathroom door to prevent my brother from occupying the bathroom during pending spells of urgency. Nothing depletes any sense of femininity or sexiness you may have had faster than vomiting and diarrhea. And I can think of little else less romantic!

I'm disappointed! I'm pretty sure no one enjoys being ill, but what didn't this happen yesterday? I had to miss work today... and now I'm gonna miss date night! Pfffft!

Bloomin' Idiot!

Mr. Nice Guy is a saint! Not only did he tolerate my insecure shutdown on Friday night... he didn't even bat an eye when I explained it to him. Sometimes I wonder if he even notices my mini-freakouts! Luckily, I'm smart enough to see the pattern with them... and they all involve "women" that want to sleep with him, or claim him as their man. One was the ex, and the other was a wanna be. Being the forgiving, loving, sensitive, mature woman that I am... I didn't see through their soap-opera-worthy man-stealing tactics coming! These women are 39 and 40 years old!!!! Are you serious? I didn't think females acted that way past the age of 18... which was over two decades ago for these claw-wielding wenches! The wanna be even babbled a bunch of garbage and followed it with... "Don't tell (Mr. Nice Guy) he'd get mad at me." Yeah right. I've been dating him for over two months... he treats me amazingly well, and I just ran into you for the first time in 20 years. Are you fucking kidding me? She even asked me to add her as a MySpace friend... Sorry, but I require my MySpace friends to truly be friends. Until MySpace offers a "Catty Cunt" category, added she certainly shall not be!!!

M.N.G. took me to breakfast today, followed by shopping for a replacement for my crapped out coffee maker. At first I was very devastated because I had a coffee maker with a thermal carafe. The ability to keep coffee hot at least an hour after the lazy ass who presses her snooze alarm an unpredictable amount of times actually gets up is critical to the maintenance of sanity! Unfortunately, most coffee drinkers are either very routine and responsible, or can't handle the caffeine withdrawals, so they DO get up when their coffee is done brewing. There are endless coffee makers with glass carafes... but very few thermal ones to choose from. The first store we went to only had one thermal option and it even looked like a crappy model! Low and behold, at good ol' Walmart, I found my newest love!!!! A BREW STATION!!!!!!!!!!! Not only is the machine cool, it even sounds cool! I enjoyed my first cup from the cool coffee dispensing gizmo, and look forward to seeing it magically make my coffee at 9 a.m. this morning.

So I still have a fabulous boyfriend. I have an even better coffee making machine. I weeded my front garden... finally! And... I got to spend a few hours with the neighbors for a cookout. My brother even helped me dig out a bush and tree that didn't survive last summer's brutal dryness. It was just truly a feel-good kind of day.

I might be a bloomin' idiot sometimes, but at least it isn't always! Believe it or not... I am making progress in my crazy mad little life and the happy days are finally outnumbering the difficult ones.

Mr. Nice Guy and His Big White Horse

Oh my am I just dumb.

After replaying the evening's events, I realized that I let the probably ill intentions of a "woman" Mr. Nice Guy and I both know, ignite some almost disappeared insecurity with our relationship's good standing. You see, I've never understood "mean people," and I truly believe that people shouldn't play high school games after the age of 21... so 40 year-old women who act like catty little teenage bitches... over a boy... just don't make sense to me!

He and I haven't totally discussed things, but he does know that I was upset, and expressed sincere concern. Had I not spent the day with Chester, I'm sure we would have had a meeting to discuss the issue.

We do have a breakfast date tomorrow... and I'm going to just tell him what happened. And... I think it's going to be okay.

Fucked. Up.

It's all fucked up.
Me.
Us.
And maybe him.


Mr. Right wasn't there for me; but in his defense, I didn't ask him to be.

And in my defense, I don't know how.

But, I do know, that I'm broken hearted, and a stubborn ass bitch... that's what I had to become to survive. So, unless he finds a big white horse...

it's done.

Spinning

Holy hell is there a lot going on! I can't possibly verbalize the abundance of emotions I'm feeling right now. Just the thought of trying to is exhausting! So here's a brief inventory of my current dilemmas:

My 84 year old grandmother is STILL in the hospital. She has congestive heart failure, and lives in California... so visiting her is easier said then paid for.

My cat is doing better for now, but she is in some stage of kidney failure. She's gonna die. Right now, it's just a matter of on who's terms: mine or Jesus'. I'll find out what the vet recommends sometime next week.

The schooling program I have been jumping through hoops for for a year has become nothing more than a serious pain in my ass because the people in charge can't seem to send papers where they should in time. Classes are supposed to start next week. In support of my sanity and happiness... I think I'm going to scratch that plan off the list.

My relationship with Mr. Nice Guy, thankfully, is in a good spot. After a mildly neurotic and seriously awkward (for me) exchange of communications, it has now been officially established that we are an exclusive couple. However, with everything that is going on in my life aside from our new relationship, I'm concerned about him getting lost in the shuffle of my busy mind, thinking I'm a hopeless mess, changing his phone number, and boarding a one-way flight to Tokyo.


I sent a message to my Dad, suggesting that we meet sometime this summer. That was two days ago. I have heard nothing back from him.

My brother moved back to town. He's supposed to be staying at my mom's house, but... well that is a very long story. Let me just say that we are about to have an intervention of sorts, a last ditch effort, to encourage her to finally get her house in order. I'm happy to see him, and thankful for the opportunity to get to know each other as "grown ups," but I also have to take care of myself and have healthy boundaries. Because that is something I haven't quite mastered yet... this whole situation makes me a little nervous.

My new job is great, but there have been some sources of stress. Some are simply part of the natural process of settling into a new career, and others are the result of inefficient operating systems. I also have the reality of potentially losing my job in September, if we don't get much needed grant funding. My wounds are still rather fresh from being without a job for 10 months... so there is a legitimate level of fear associated with this. One thing I know for sure, is that I need to lay off the coffee, get some regular sleep, and make time to eat some damn breakfast!

None of this is more than I can handle. I just wish it wasn't all coming at me at once! I've done a lot of growing as a person, and was finally getting a good handle on the good, the bad, and the ugly that makes me who I am. Chaos is not my friend, so it is critical that I maintain some sort of balance during all of this. I just have to remember to... breathe. It wasn't that long ago that I had nearly given up on happiness. I had actually picked up the pen to write it off. But now that I've found it, and now that I have had some time to appreciate how beautiful inner peace and happiness truly are, I'm going to protect myself, and fight whatever battles are placed in front of me to the death!

Mr. Nice Guy and the Dipshit

Things between me and Mr. Nice Guy seriously get better every day. And of course, I keep waiting for the bottom to drop out... for him to find something so wrong with me that he runs like Forrest Gump... far far away and never to return. I am very aware of my little (big) problem, and I'm just dying to confess to it. I was, in fact, so close to spilling my guts last night that I asked him to sign an imaginary waiver that relieved me from any liability resulting from me being an idiot.

This guy... is unreal. He had the tech guy bring me speakers for my work computer after my tower blew up and was replaced with one that had no sound at all. He knew I was secretly very upset because I was facing potentially having to put my cat to sleep. He takes me on real dates. Holds my hand while we are walking. Wasn't grossed out by the enormous tumor-like zit I had on my back, and thought my snoring last night was cute. He took me to breakfast this morning... with his MOTHER! The funny thing about that is that she vividly remembers he and I dancing at her daughter's wedding. She is a very kind and forgiving lady, who also looks beyond amazing at 61!

See! Now I don't even have the "I don't get along with his mother" excuse to sabotage this! Man am I screwed! I might be falling in l-o-v-e with this guy. I've opened up the door a little bit and sent him a text two nights ago that said "I maybe really kinda sort like you." Juvenile, yes, I admit to that. It was a calculated effort to minimize the potential for painfully blatant rejection and provide me with the "escape" I'm always looking for, just in case he didn't reciprocate the same sentiment. Today I sent him a text that said "I retract my previous statement. I DO like you." I'm happy to report that he expressed his affection for me as well. I knew that. Guys don't do the sorts of things he's done for me if they don't like you. That just magnifies the stupidity of my fear.

Here are some of our text exchanges today...

Mr. Nice Guy: With any luck I'll be snoring like you were last night in a min. ;) xxxx

Dipshit (me): Fucker! Another not so sexy attribute of mine. I'm sorry! And embarrassed.

Mr. Nice Guy: It was cute love.

Dipshit: Sure. No wonder you are so tired.

Mr. Nice Guy: Not true it was wonderful and peaceful with you cuddled up to me.

(after our confessions to "liking" each other...)

Dipshit: Hooray!!! I feel like I won the lottery!

Mr. Nice Guy: fuckin a! Let's go on a vacation then.

Dipshit: honey you are prize. No fortune here.

Mr. Nice Guy: You got jipped.

Dipshit: I disagree rather strongly. I don't deserve you.

Mr. Nice Guy: Ohhhh our first argument! Can we skip right to the name calling part? I want to call you dirty names.

Dipshit: What are we arguing about?

Mr. Nice Guy: Who deserves who :)

I think that kinda maybe sorta counts as confessing to my feelings, doesn't it? Although he does deserve the respect of the unabridged version. Last night I was out with him and a group of his friends, and today with his mother... so I suppose that means we are now publicly a couple. I also happily declined a "booty call" from a former lover who was messaging me while I was with Mr. Nice Guy. The fact that I felt it was wrong and didn't want Mr. Nice Guy to think I was interested in someone else tells me that I'm serious about him. So it's time to shape up, let him know how I feel, and quit acting like a scared little child before I lose this guy! The question is: when?!!

My Vicarious Sex Life

It's a rainy Saturday morning... actually it's nearing noon, and I have spent my waking hours in bed... watching a fabulously scandalous show: Mistresses. The men are delicious and the story lines are captivating. And, I, I am in sweatpants with gravity defying bangs.

I realize that it's unlikely that I'll walk out my door today, on my way to care for a 94 year-old man and meet a dashingly handsome man who wants to romantically ravage my body in expensive, high-thread-count sheets... but one can dream, can't they?

It's T.V.... unrealistic, right?

Since discovering this show, I find myself questioning my own romantic motives, or more accurately the lack of. Fact is, it has been over five months since I have found myself entertaining the rip-your-clothes off kind of thoughts... and I miss them. I miss him. At least the forgotten feelings he so easily stirred up in my mind. And I'm wondering, is it time to find his replacement? Is it possible to find someone who has such a power over you that you forget all that is proper, and allow yourself to endulge your every desire? I hadn't planned on finding him. And I'm still not quite sure why, or how, it all happened, but I know it doesn't happen often... and how long will I have to impatiently wait until the forces that be allow me to feel so alive again?

Unspeakably Unspoken

I did it.
I broke the silence. The security. His serenity.
I wrote C.F.
I said one-gazillionth of the things I long to say...
I wanted him to know that I think of him; every day.
He's busy. Wrapped up in life. In the demands of being him. But I had to tell him. I still want him. Need him, but that, I didn't say. He wrote back, and said I can expect a "proper letter" soon.

Fuck proper! Nothing about us is, or was, proper. Part of me wishes I'd never met him, and the other can't stop wishing we'd never "parted." And, I'm simply driving myself mad thinking.

Our "entanglement" was secret. So I'm left alone... to wallow in it. I dare not discuss it freely... only he and I may truly understand it.

I miss him.

I'm pushing people away... like the rich on a street full of beggars... and although I do not enjoy my loneliness, I wish not to share it. It's unspeakable. Unspoken.

Beyond the Door...

I sent my last message to my father nine days ago... there's been no response as of yet. Is this proverbial door still open? Has he closed it? Has he sought out security and solace behind it?
I have no idea if my father has a computer at home. No clue as to whether he has Internet access, or takes trips to the library or a friend's to check his email. What I'm dying to know is if he read my last message.

If you recall, our last exchange involved him bringing up the subject of my childhood. And I feel I handled that very tactfully. I was careful to not offer too much detail to prevent him from feeling guilty or responsible for what he cannot change. I didn't want him to dwell on whatever feelings he may have towards his absence in my life. I've let that go. If he chooses to discuss it, I will entertain that discussion, but rehashing or living in that dusty old past does not interest me... it is not my motivation for allowing this door to be pried open.

But with Martha's recent passing, and feelings of loss for Pam still pulsing through my heart... my belief that knowing my father in whatever way this life allows is important, becomes even stronger.

We don't know how much time we have here. Not a single one of us. We never know what conversations will be our last. We never truly know when we will see someone again... Really telling someone how I feel has never been my strong point, but the importance of doing so has been screaming in my ear for the last week. I don't want my father to die thinking that I hate him, or that he ruined my life. I don't want him to think that I would never understand his choices, or that I would never forgive him. It is for these reasons, that I hope he has not shut this door.

My wish for all of you, my lovelies, is that you take every moment you have to let those around you know how special they are to you. That when you think those kind thoughts, you turn them into kind words. You may never know the impact kind words may have on someone's life, but you might, if you muster up the courage and energy to say them. But what you will know, is that if by tragedy or circumstance, you never have the opportunity to converse with them again... you will have expressed your gratitude for their presence in your life. And with that, I will thank each and every one of you, for being kind enough to share this magical, mysterious, and sometimes, maddening, life... with me.

Don't Hate the Player... Hate the Game!

"R" just left. We spent a few hours together. He's handsome, kind, and full of compliments... but he's not C.F. If I had my way, I would be in C.F.'s arms... in bed... for about a week, with room service delivering any and all necessities to avoid the need for clothing.

But, I can't have him.

And, I got a very sweet and romantic card from Ireland today, featuring the artwork, "The Kiss" by Klimt.

So here I am, feeling like one of those arrogant but hot "player" guys that all of the girls say they hate... but they wind up sleeping with anyway. I'd love to tell C.F. how I feel, but I don't want to risk running him off and ruining what is left of our intellectual love affair. And I'd love to tell the Irishman that I'm going to date other people... but what would that do to our spark? Is there a spark anymore?

And "R." "R" asked me what I want last night. A little too premature in my mind... but something I may have been open to before I had become so entangled with C.F. I was sure to explain to him that I am in a very transitional stage of my life, and that I am finally pursuing lifelong dreams. That I don't know what will come of them, where I will end up, and what I will be doing at the "end" of it all. But I surely didn't volunteer that as of now, my heart and mind belong partially, if not completely, to someone else.

I don't want to complicate my life. But I don't want to let it pass me by either. So I suppose my "moves" will have to be a slight bit strategic when it comes to "playing with boys." I've never dated more than one man. And this situation is a little strange! I'm pining away for a man I can't have that lives out of state, travels for work, and is also in a serious relationship with someone else. I'm chatting across the ocean with a man from another country... and playing kissy face with "R." A man who would like a relationship with me, wants to fix my car, and help me with projects around the house.

And all I can think of right now is chicken wings and C.F.

What a wicked, wicked game!

Cinderella's Story...

Despite not getting into bed until 9 a.m. And rising 5 hours later... I managed to have good day.

Up all night writing random rants of love unrequited... seemed to have cleaned out some of the negative clutter in my mind. I was tired. But alive again.

It was a beautiful day outside. Sunny and warm. Opening the windows allowed the world to breathe new life into this house. Into me. I soaked up some of the warmth of the sun... watched the squirrels play, and the butterflies bouncing along the blades of grass.

And when I came inside... I began cleaning my house. Feeling attached to it again. Loving it again. I was beginning to resent it. Letting the burden of affording it while unemployed sour the joy and pride it used to fill me with. I was happy to clean it. Smiling. Sweeping up dirt from the plant that got knocked over, cleaning out the cat litter... even finding a dead mouse; made me happy.

My carpet is clean and waiting for the piano to rest it's legs on it. We are supposed to leave to pick it up between 4 and 6 p.m. I'm excited, but a little nervous. Nervous about moving the massive thing, and nervous about whether I'll actually play it. But having a piano in the house, in my sight, makes the dream of playing a little more real than just a drifting thought in my mind. It really seems meant to be. The woman who is giving it to me is single and 36. Very kind and thoughtful. A church going woman. We exchanged some emails early this morning and she thanked me for the coffee conversation. I have a feeling we will become friends. An interesting connection.

Emails. Yes, many emails. Emails from C.F. Thankfully, C.F. has left the lines of communication open. I would not have faired well if he had just shut me out completely. And as the days slowly pass I become a little more comfortable with "the end" of our brief love affair and the continued growth of our friendship. He's a special person to me. And I like to keep those special people around. Close to my heart. I hope we enjoy a long and lovely friendship.

There is already a "boy" volunteering to sit in the newly emptied spot on the roster. Someone that I initially met when I was in a serious relationship. He was an acquaintance of my ex, and someone I always found attractive. We just happened to be in the same place at the same time, and he asked for my number. When he walked away from my car he said "You look good!" Thanks! I needed that! A freshly rejected woman will never be ungrateful for a man telling her she looks good.

I'm not really feeling a need to get involved. My mind is on C.F. and I am supposed to be having a visitor from Ireland in December... so getting into any type of serious relationship right now would be silly. And as nice as "R." is... we don't know each other well enough to even get into that quite yet.

My priority is still finding a job. Got my 6 month car insurance bill today, and more bills from my June trip to the hospital. None of which I will have money for. Two weeks left of unemployment and I have to wait to file my extension. Silly red tape. As if I'm not stressed enough! Right now... I'm thinking of skipping the plan to pursue the $10,000 in free tuition and opting for the help with attaining a job. It doesn't make sense for me take more college classes. You have to pursue careers on their "high demand" list. And the only one that sincerely interests me is "Interior Designer." Unless there is a way to finish that in two years... I'm not interested at all. I'm really feeling good about pursuing my writing and artistic adventures. Feeling like it's what I'm meant to be doing. And I don't think I should waste anymore time and energy on something else. I've done that for most of my 36 years... and it didn't make me very happy.

"Find your passion. And pursue it." That is what I'm going to do...

Mona Lake is Dead???

So tonight I confided in a friend. And I said, "I think Mona is dead." Which is me, of course.

But. Fuck that. I'm not dead.

I'm just hurt because I allowed myself to really feel, for the first time in a long time... but with a man who couldn't, even if he wanted to, feel back. And as much as I could try to convince myself it was wrong, I know it wasn't. There was a devine reason for us to meet, which the true meaning of, I have yet to discover.

But I know, that I've wasted the majority of my life denying who I am, what I want, and where I want to be. And when it's all said and done, I'll have one last regret.

So I'm here. Wanting him. And he probably wants me too. But, that can't be. So. I'm thinking I am about to entertain the thought of a "no strings attached" relationship, based solely on sex. Because... I am... a 37 year-old woman, that is fit, smart, sexy, funny, and open-minded... and there is a world out there that keeps on spinning; with or without me. And damn it! I want to have some hot sex! Not once. Not twice. But at least, three times... this year!

The Empty Chair...

I have sat here... in this same... old... hard... cold...

uncomforting, uncomfortable chair... for twelve hours. Half a day. A lifetime. Lifetime of feelings. Conversations. Words. Said. And unspoken...

And

I

Am...

Mourning. Frustrated. Sad. Hopeful. Desperate. Needy. Full. Empty...

All at once. And...

All

Alone.

In this empty chair...

A. Fucked. Up. Mess.

The defintion of a fucked up mess... according to Webster:

A: "from beginning to end; completely; exhaustively"

Fucked: "great, malicious, unfairness"

Up: "as a virtually meaningless element added, esp. colloquially, to almost any verb"

Mess: "6 a) a state of embarrassment, trouble, difficulty, a person in either of these states 2. to make a mess of; specif., to make dirty, soiled, or untidy; also, to bungle; muddle; botch: often with up

The Big Fat Fucking Mess

Now I've gone and done it. Fucked it all up.

I can't get into all of the details. I'm still spinning and sick with the dizziness. Already uncomfortably brewing with too much coffee on an empty stomach before I got the message from C.F.

The message.

C.F. and I had been intimately chatting and sending photos for the last six weeks. And we had finally met. It was electric. Pure. True. And right away, I was afraid. Afraid for all of the cliche reasons... afraid to be in love, broken-hearted. But also afraid of feeling something that most likely would have to end... and I didn't want to ever have to let it go... so I almost didn't let myself begin to feel it.

But I did. And I do.

And now... he's afraid. Justifiably afraid of the consequences of our feelings. Of us meeting again. Of us being more than what we can handle... because he's involved with someone else. And if he holds on to me... he inevitably has to let go of her and his life. It's a mess. A fucking mess. And I want to talk to him about it so badly, but he's afraid that we can't meet. We were supposed to meet tomorrow.

I can't make sense right now. Not of this. Not to explain it. Can't make sense of what I feel... and I can't try... because our relationship was a secret. So I am stuck here... with this bubbling, explosive mess... trapped inside my sickened stomach. Alone.

And to further scatter the wreck and confusion that is me... Mr. Irishman called right after I got the news, and asked me if I was okay. I just said no and that I couldn't talk about it right now. So... I have to add to the mess... and not tell him the truth. Not tell him that I'm basically almost in love with someone I can't be with, but that I love him too. God. Typing that just completely paralyzed me. It doesn't seem possible. How could that be? How could something so entirely fucked up even possibly happen? And why am I so torn with convincing myself that it was stupid to begin with, and feeling like the honest reality is that we can't help who we love, or why we love them. And damn't... we can't isolate the tangled web of the world that sometimes keeps us away from where we want to be... and who we want to greet us when we get there.

Fuck.