Monday, December 31, 2007

Good Deeds?

So yesterday I was driving to Springfield to get together a Zombie Preparedness Kit for Ryan's graduation gift when I make a turn around an overpass on the Fairfax County Parkway and see a Ford Explorer spinning out and settling in the middle of the road. By the time I'd slammed my brakes and pulled over to the median I was already on the phone with 911.

I got out of my car, saw the woman in the driver's seat waking up. She said she was okay, and she could move and everything, but we couldn't get her door open and her car wouldn't start. (It was fairly fucked in the front. She'd lost control and slammed into a barrier wall.) She couldn't exit on the passenger side because people were zooming by at 50-70mph there. It was pretty unsafe to be in the middle, and I saw her looking in the back to a kid, about 2 years old. I got the kid out of the back, and pulled the mom through the window. I stayed with them until some other people stopped to help, and then finally the police came.

The officer told everyone not involved to go home, so I did.

Is it odd that while I was driving away I thought, "damnit, had this happened Tuesday I'd have gotten my good deed for 2008 out of the way"? Just wondering.

Thursday, December 27, 2007

It's a wonderful life?

I saw "It's a Wonderful Life" for the first time tonight. It was a very good movie, but the lesson that I got out of it was "give up your dreams and settle for what you've got." My mother seems to think I have a very "interesting" take on the movie, and it appears that she finds something wrong with my assessment. I don't understand why I'm so wrong.

Sure, the world where he was never born was worse off than the one where he lived, of that there's no question. But what about the life where he follows his dreams? Where was that? And I don't buy the argument that in the end he realized his dreams were not to travel and get out of his home town, but to help people and have a family. That's not his DREAM. That's the reality he has to cope with.

Now, I'm glad he did what he did. Clearly he helped a lot of people and he made people's lives better, richer, and happier. And that's not something to be taken lightly. But where's the progress?

Is he any better off at the end of the movie? No. He's not going to jail - that's good. But the mean old man still has his money. And the mean old man didn't change. And his friends have bailed him out of trouble, but he's still not seen the world. He's still in the house he swore he'd never live in. Still working the job he never wanted for the company he never wanted. Still married, like he swore he'd never be, though it probably would have happened anyway. So what's changed? Well... He's just realized that complaining isn't going to make things any better, and he ought to enjoy what he has.

I think that was his big fault. If you're going to give up everything you want, you should damn well get all the joy you can out of what you've got left. So he learned that much. But I still don't know if I'd call it a happy ending.

Monday, December 17, 2007

Aw, shoot

I've got this feeling Shy is ignoring me.

While we were normal after my apparent joke of a confession of liking him, he's not returned any of my text messages for a week. And NO, I'm not one of those horrible people who messages constantly. I've sent about 3-4 messages in 7 days, two of which were sent at the same time.

Hm.

Boys are dumb. I know he's been super busy, but boys are still dumb.

HOWEVER, unless the whole "ignoring" thing lasts like, close to a month, I always assume the other person is just busy or our schedules don't coincide. Doesn't mean I like it, but it does mean I rarely over react or jump the gun.

Sunday, December 9, 2007

Holidays?

I hate the holidays. I mean really hate them - as in I can't stand them and they make me miserable. But for some reason I am the designated Holiday Cheer person.

I have the potential to be an amazing holiday lover. I love to make things pretty. I love to decorate, to bake, to find the perfect gift and wrap it meticulously.

But I fuckin' hate the holidays.

This year I've decided to make a gingerbread house. I've never made one before, so it should be interesting. I'll drive it up to Philadelphia with me to visit family. But being ME, I can't just make a little cottage.

My first foray into gingerbread will have me making a gingerbread chapel, complete with stained glass (sugar) windows, a steeple, and snow. Why?

Because I am insane.

Because I love working details.

Because I'm just THAT good. I'm that person who saw this picture of a Mad Hatter Cake when I was 15 and then just went ahead and made my own without instruction, and to fairly okay results, considering I'd never heard of fondant (that gum paste icing) until the day I worked with the stuff, AND I WAS FIFTEEN.

Now I'm 22 and I kick ass. Tonight, because I felt like it and there are some people coming over tomorrow, I made Raspberry Mousse. I use my own recipe. I made it up once, because I just figured making a mousse was a pretty obvious process. I don't like recipes.

I'll post photos of the gingerbread structure when it's completed.

Wednesday, December 5, 2007

Woo?

Preface: when I first was in touch with Shy over a year ago, I didn't want to call him my friend. I'd taken a shining to him within a few days, and I didn't want him to be weirded out. I called him my Foe, and we've been "Foes" ever since. I tend to do this when I like someone and I don't want to tag them with even the most mundane of social norms. I made up "dream of good crap" when I first knew the captain, because I thought "sweet dreams" was too sentimental. I'm odd, but that's how I roll.

SO I TOOK THE PLUNGE and told Shy that I like him in the least-damaging way I could think of: text messages.

Yes, I'm practically 12 years old. And I made that the premise of my message. I didn't want to scare him off, so it went something like this:

ME: .:punch!:.

HIM: Too late! I've already eaten!

ME: Sorry. I just realized I have a little crush on you and my first instinct was to act like I'm in grade school and hit you. PS: you're not allowed to be weird with me because of this or you'll get punched in person.

HIM: You didn't get my reference!


[60 minutes of messaging about SNL skits]

[20 minutes of messaging about an itch in his inner ear. I suggest he drop water down it.]

HIM: That would be equally as frustrating a prayer-cleaning.

ME: I am so glad I never pray.

HIM: So am I. Your wrath is bad enough without God behind you.

ME: Yeay!! I win!
ME: But... you've never even seen my wrath!

HIM: As your for I've come to understand your wrath despite the distance between us.
HIM: As your foe, I meant.

ME: I know. It was not hard to figure out.

HIM: You're not hard to figure out.

ME: What does that mean?

HIM: I strike another deadly blow to my unsuspecting foe!

ME: =O



And it ends. He never said a word about what sparked my first messages. His avoidance doesn't bother me because he was still acting like normal. But it still stings that I didn't merit a comment. I am 95% happy. After all, I still have my friend.

Tuesday, December 4, 2007

I don't like these decisions

Having no other prospects is not a good enough reason to get back together with someone. I know that.

But that doesn't make things any easier.

Colin wants to get back together after over 4 years. He's dated some psychos (bipolar, controlling, and abusive) and I think he's come to realize that I was the best thing to ever happen to him. I knew it 4 years ago. He knew it then, too, but he didn't care. He says he's grown up a lot and changed. And that's possible, considering when I left him he was 16 and now he's almost 21.

In the meantime I've not dated anyone. I know I didn't make myself emotionally available, and I was very caught up in life (deaths, parent's divorce, jobs, school) but that doesn't change that I've not been able to experience anything different or new. And I don't think it's fair that he wants to come back after figuring out that I'm the best of all the girls he's dated while all I've got is what we had back then.

It's also bad timing. I'm just opening up to the idea of liking Shy, and I've just started to consider the potential being with him would have.

Shy is... kind of tall, has a (particularly gross) beard, long hair, a squishy stomach, a family who controls every aspect of his life, and he doesn't always shower, has worn stained and torn clothes out in public with me, he's generally miserable, and clearly by the name I've given him is very shy. Colin is... very tall, has a beard I like, short hair that's still long enough to play with, a terrible family he's trying to get away from, and he always looks great (way better than I do, and girls everywhere turn their heads and stare at him), and is social, fun, outgoing, cheerful (with bouts of depression), and is built like a rock.

And none of that matters to me.

What matters is that I feel like getting back together with Colin would be settling for something familiar. Falling back into old habits would be easy as flipping a switch, but the decision to turn that switch is heavy and grave. It would be stupid of me to do it without making sure Colin really has changed, and it would be even more stupid to do it without telling Shy about my feelings for him.

If Colin really is a "new" man, I'd still choose something new with Shy over something new with Colin. He had his chance. He fucked up royally. And I think he doesn't deserve a second chance until someone else gets a first.

Does that make sense?

Shit. This means I have to talk with Shy. What kind of girl says "no" when a handsome young man tells her he wants her? I hate my life.

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Tipping Well

Today I went out to lunch.

My bill was something like this:

Total 12.57
Tip 8.43

Total 21.00


That's a 67% tip. Why?

Because the lady in the next booth over was being a loud, pretentious bitch. From the moment I was seated all I heard were complaints.

"This place is never as good as the other location."
"What kind of bread is this? Your other location doesn't serve this!"
"Every time I come to this location the food and service is terrible."
"I can't believe I'm eating this. How can they serve this?"
"My cup [plastic cup] is chipped! Look at this! I could have died!" [yes, she said that]
"Where is the waiter? This service is terrible!" [he'd JUST been at her table]
"Is this even chicken?"
"I want to talk to the manager and complain to the corporate office."

ALL THE WHILE she's having a conversation with a man [I assume her friend] at the table.

"Going to JAPAN? Wow! Isn't that exciting!"
"Don't you want to go to Japan? I do."
"You know they say everything's cheaper in Japan." [wtf?]
"How much does that cost? Are you staying in a 5-star hotel?"
"The Japanese know how to be classy."
"Tokyo is supposed to be amazing."
"The only way to fly is first class. Are you going first class?"
"I would NEVER stay anywhere with less than 4 stars."

ON AND ON AND ON.

I finished my meal at the same time as her. She was telling about the cup that was going to put shards in her stomach and rip out her organs and kill her, and demanding to see the manager. I noticed she already drank her entire soda. I figured she wanted a free meal. I left my tip (paid with credit card) and wrote at the bottom of the signed bill:

"I hope this tip makes up for SOME of what that crazy lady at the next booth is doing."



Then I stood up and took the 2 steps over to her table. She looked about 60 years old. Just as the manager was ALMOST there, I said the following:

"Lady, shut up. Do you realize how loud you are? Do you realize that everyone in this restaurant is praying to god that you shut your trap and quit whining like a child? I'm willing to bet that the people who work here want nothing more than to gag you and throw you out the door, but they can't do that because their jobs depend on being polite, and so far they've been more than kind to you, compensating for every innane complaint you pull out of your ass and sucking up to you as you walk all over them. You are a bitter, pretentious woman. If you hate this place so much you would have driven the 15 minutes to the other location. But you came here, BY CHOICE, on your own free will. And you're fishing for a free meal. So SHUT UP. Being retired doesn't mean you get to make everyone else miserable like you. Take this [I toss a quarter on her table] and buy yourself a life.

[I turn away, take a few steps, and turn back.]

And Japan? It's not that great. I prefer Shanghai over Tokyo."


The whole place was quiet. As I left, I noticed a few people giving me a "thumbs up" in the windows.

Saturday, November 17, 2007

Long Time, No Post!

Wow. It's been a while. To give a comprehensive update would require far more typing than I'm willing to do, so here's the rundown:

RYAN AND I are good. While I know she's setting herself up for a major heartbreak, and I'm rather pissed at her for it, we're even closer friends because of all this shit that's been going down. It's been good to get something "normal" to test our friendship with. The two of us are having a great time with the whole "bonding experience," even while we know the subject/cause isn't the greatest.

SHY AND I have not really spoken since the last conversation, but are keeping in touch via text messages and I think maybe one more phone call? We were joking and he said something bad about himself, and I got serious (not stuffy serious, just honest serious) and assured him that I hold him in the highest esteem. I think the fact that we're doing things for each other that shows that we're good friends, coupled with me being secure enough in myself to say things that clearly show how much I value his frienship are all causing him to shy away. But that's just his nature. And I'm okay with it all. I don't mind people shying away so long as they treat me well, and he's done nothing but treat me well.

MY DAD AND I aren't talking. Still. Kind of. He invited everyone to lunch this afternoon (my brother's in town with his girlfriend) and I refused to go... except he didn't know until everyone showed up without me. When he asked where I was, my mom just said, "the roofer came today." I don't think anyone brought it up again. Then he came to the house! Ugh. We exchanged words. I was not polite, but I wasn't rude. I didn't talk to him unless he asked me a direct question.

SPEAKING OF WHICH, when my mom asked what happened before she got home (two cars, so my dad was in the house with me and my brother for 30 minutes before she got in) I told her "I wasn't polite. But I wasn't rude, either."

My brother said, "for you, 'not rude' IS being polite."

Am I generally a rude person? I know I can be mean, and cutthroat, and unleash my wrath and all.. but I don't think I'm RUDE all the time.

It kinda makes me sad.

Saturday, November 10, 2007

I'm Singin' In The Rain...

Today was the first time I’d really talked to Shy in almost a month. We’d sent text messages back and forth, but I hadn’t heard his voice and we didn’t have a real conversation.

It felt really good. I’d missed our conversations a lot more than I expected.

We were on the phone for 45 minutes. Initially I called him because I just needed someone to talk to/at about my new insecurities/trust issues with my best friend. I told him upfront that I just didn’t know anyone else I’d call about it. That part of the call lasted about ten minutes.

And then we just started talking… about the Wizard of Oz, and how terrible it is that I haven’t seen it. And about Gene Kelly movies, and how terrible it is that I haven’t seen any of them. And how next time we see each other he wants to bring me required movies to watch.

He was saying that despite being a professional dancer and being okay with wearing tights, Kelly was a man’s man and something to aspire to. This lead to a lengthy and sarcastic tangent about how suave and manly Shy is, and how he gives Mr. Gene Kelly a run for his money. I mean, clearly after watching so many Gene Kelly movies he picked something up, ne? Hahahaahahahaa!!! Oh, if only you knew him.

We agreed that Shy should only ever use an umbrella to imitate the routine from Singing In The Rain. It was the highlight of my day. As corny as it sounds…

What a glorious feeling, I’m happy again =)

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

Hmm..

Some of my fear about my best friend are coming true, though the circumstances surrounding these events cloud the truth and make it more difficult to pass judgment than it would initially seem.

The first few years of our friendship included every boy I fancied asking Ryan out and bypassing me. Either that, or she’d stick herself in the middle of my friendships with boys I fancied and somehow they’d all end up asking her out on dates. I never blamed Ryan for this very much. Rather, I attributed it to my undesirability.

She’s blonde, blue eyed, fair skinned, a good three inches taller than me… I’m tan, with dark eyes and dark hair and shortness. I was (and partly still am) convinced that fairer girls will always be considered more desirable than girls with an actual skin tone. I know it’s not really true, but my personal experience and observations support the notion. Still, I recognize that my predisposition makes my “objective” observations intrinsically flawed.

TO THE POINT, when I finally did get a boyfriend, I made sure to keep Ryan away from him for months. I wouldn’t even introduce them, because I was sure he’d leave me for her.

Even though she’d never do anything to hurt me, I couldn’t shake the feeling.

Now she’s gone and stolen a guy from another friend of hers. And the circumstances around the whole thing are murkier than a Georgia swamp on a hot summer day. But I keep coming back to the bottom line:

Ryan became fast friends with the boyfriend of a girl she was friends with.
Ryan spent a lot of time with the guy.
The couple eventually broke up.
The girl begged Ryan not to have sex with her recent ex, and whether or not the relationship was really over is questionable.
Within a week Ryan’s gone off on a weekend trip with the guy and has sex with him.

What troubles me is that before this happened, Ryan was a virgin. She said she couldn’t see herself having meaningless hookups, and since she wasn’t in any serious relationships sex just wasn’t an option. She said that as recent as this last month, but somehow she’s okay with sleeping with a guy who is so obsessed with her friend that IMMEDIATELY AFTER they had sex the guy is talking to Ryan about the other girl.



I know it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense while I’m trying to withhold details. But I can’t help but wonder what kind of person sleeps with a friend’s ex… especially so quickly and without remorse, alcohol, or other impairments as factors.

I know she’d never hurt me.

I don’t think I’ll be introducing her to any guys anytime soon.

Monday, November 5, 2007

ANGRY

My best friend called me on the phone tonight, and in the middle of an otherwise normal conversation started to make blatant references that TODAY is the 5th of November. As if I'd know what she meant.

Then she clarified it as a reference to “V for Vendetta.” She was shocked that I've not seen the movie and declared we "have to see it next time we hang out." I explained my distaste for the movie. She started to recite some damned rhyme about the 5th of November. I hung up.

THEN I GOT MAD.

This is what I released upon another friend a few moments later:



I refuse to watch that movie or acknowledge its existence. My distaste for it rivals my distaste for those three movies George Lucas never made.

As a foreword, I haven't seen the film because I refuse to. My reasons are simple: I take my politics seriously, as I take my dystopian societies seriously. I think, from what I've seen/heard/read that the movie goes into no actual depth, preferring to appeal to the masses with lofty, overblown symbolism and blatant references to the current world order while providing no actual commentary or conclusion/solution/lesson. It’s cheesy. It doesn't give any sort of realistic bent to revolution, and trivializes the entire process with visuals that are backed by air alone.

I HATE what that movie spawned.

More fuckin' kids and stupid adults who think they've found some goddamned enlightenment and truth in a weakly portrayed, childish movie that makes light of complicated cultural-political-humanistic issues. They think they know something. They fancy themselves revolutionaries, and scholars, and people of importance. They think they're so intelligent because they "woke up" or whatever the fuck the matrix told them to do years ago and they also blindly followed.

Pretentious philosopher-wannabes.

I liked the first matrix, but I hate the people who took it to heart and decided it was like a gospel. These people like the movie, praise it to all ends because they get a high off feeling like they mean something.

They pretend to be important, and knowledgeable, and rebellious. But they'd never in a million years actually STUDY the politics, social developments, and psychology of mass movements that they CLAIM to have some nirvana like enlightenment about.

The worst part of all is that the very concepts in the movie are flawed to begin with, but not a single one of these “followers” are willing to see that – or admit to it when it’s spelled out in front of them.

They should just put on their little Che t-shirts, camo pants, arm bands, buttons, and whatever else they have that's self important and "radical" and go masturbate until deus ex machina rids the world of tyranny.

Fuckin’ bastards. All of them!

Thursday, November 1, 2007

Monday, Monday

So I had an epiphany at work on Monday. Literally. One minute I was using photoshop to edit some pictures I took, and the next I was at a dead stop having realized that I am not mad at The Captain.

Here’s the rundown:

I realized that while we would be a fantastic couple – a couple other people wished they could be – he and I would never make it. We are exactly what both of us want in a person, but we want completely different things out of life. He wants a house on the beach in his home state, bbqs with the neighbors, and just to be happy where he is. I want adventure. I live to travel. I can’t imagine staying in any one place for too long – and if I had a stationary home it would only be a base from which I’d jump to my next destination.

In another life he and I would be a firey, passionate couple. We would be the stuff of legends. We would be an epic novel. But in this life? We are friends.

This thought was so important to me, so revolutionary that I went outside and called him up on the phone to tell him what hit me. I told him that if he was in any way beating himself up for how things have happened, he should stop. His terrible actions were merely a reaction to the bad situation that came out of the possibility of us – a possibility made from both of our unrealistic desires.

So I told him as far as I am concerned, we’re okay. And so long as he starts being my friend again, we can go right back to the way things were and I’ll hold no animosity towards him for the way he’s behaved in the last few months.

The best part is, I meant every word.

It’s strange to be (technically) emotionally available. I think I’m going to wait a bit before I let myself get close to another guy like I did with the Captain, but it’s because I want myself to grow as a person – it’s not because I’m wounded by the experience.

He has been texting me again. Several times a day. I know it’s partly to show that he’s putting an effort into making us normal again, but it’s also because of that phone call. I think there’s a good chance we’ll be okay. I think he needed to hear from me that I really felt okay with everything and that I don’t have some secret distaste for him. I know he was scared when he thought I hated him – which only kept him further away from me. Now?

Now I think we can move forward. And I once again look forward to seeing him in the spring.

Sunday, October 28, 2007

What a night..

Hmm.. I would like to preface this post by clarifying that I am not an emo person. I started this blog specifically to talk out things I normally would keep to myself, but I am not emo. I don’t spend all day moping, crying, or otherwise acting like some dumb angsty teenager. With that out of the way, here we go:


I’ve known for some time that a second inevitable talk was going to occur between myself and The Captain. I called him out for all of his shittiness and assholery in September, and he promised he would change. He promised he’d be a better friend, he’d be in touch regularly, and he’d call me “next month.”

I knew he was lying when he promised he’d call. And I was right.

And when things didn’t really get normal with us (strained conversations which tapered off eventually and were always at his whim) I knew I needed to set him straight. And I decided it would be last night. Except I wasn’t feeling up to it. I wasn’t feeling cocky enough.

So I talked to Shy. I asked him if he could do me a favour and cheer me up before “an inevitable and rather bad talk” I was going to have. He said he didn’t think he could, that he’s “not a terribly upbeat fellow.” I countered that with telling him that he usually manages it [cheering me up] pretty well in the course of conversations.

And then it hit me. Shy has been nothing but supportive and wonderful. In everything. And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad if I open myself up to the possibility that I might have a crush on him. Especially when he moves back to the area in December.

So Shy cheered me up, and I took the plunge with The Captain. And it took two hours of continual talking and opening up for us to reach a [sort of] conclusion. The super-boiled down version is this:

Me: I need to know if I’m supposed to be getting over you or not

Him: [after some time and rambling] I think I know what I want in a person. but I don’t have the ability to say how I will be in the future. which I know sounds awful.

[then he went on about how he wants to be with the other girl and how that wasn’t really my question and that I asked how he felt about me.]

Me: how you feel about me is pretty irrelevant at this point, wouldn't you say?

Him: no I don’t think it is at all.


[I tell him how rude and simply inconsiderate it is for him to give me no answer AT ALL for so long, and that he’s essentially using me as a safety net if things with the other girl don’t work out. we talk, he opens up a whole lot. Admits the way he’s been behaving was total betrayal. Admits he doesn’t know how to be an “active friend” to people, and tells me how he’s always lived in a fantasy world and he’s afraid of growing up and getting out of it. I tell him fantasy world’s aren’t all that impossible, though it’s hard to get there. I tell him how I get gut feelings where I just instantly KNOW something that hasn’t happened yet, and how I’ve never been wrong. And how it could be completely irrational when I realize it, but it’ll happen. It ALWAYS happens. And I told him I had gut feeling about him when I first saw his photo that made contact him 4 years ago.

I explain his complete apathy is the worst thing anyone can do to another person, because friendship, love, and hate all require an effort, and apathy is simply the lack of even caring enough to have a response to a person. He says he’s avoided me because he thinks he won’t be able to share with the other girl if he’s still so open with me. I tell him to suck it up or face my wrath. He says he’s more afraid of losing me than he is of my wrath, because at least wrath means I care enough to get mad. I told him he already lost me before, when he ignored me for three whole months.]


A lot of other important, interesting things were said. By the end, two hours after the start, it went like this:

Me: it's almost impressive that after all of this talking, which was constructive, I never did get that answer. you're very good at your skill of avoidance. and I actually mean that as a compliment, and not so much as a stab at you

Him: which question was that again?

Me: Do I need to get over you?

Him: Ah yes, the actual binary question.

Me: Which apparently has a hexadecimal answer.

Him: oh FUCK. That comment makes me think about all the things I know about you.

Me: Sorry?

Him: No, no. Look: the issue has three parts for me. I love you in all the ways it is possible to love someone via long distance. Which I must say is considerable. I don’t know if I’m physically attracted to you. This is obviously very important. I want to tell you yes, get over me, for your sake. By MY gut feeling says that wouldn’t be the right answer. I’m also in a relationship I which I am not eager to end. Which I don’t expect I would ever consider ending if I didn’t know you. Which just fucking kills me.

CONCLUSION: We agree that when we’re 80 years old, neither of us want this to be a story of “what if…”



Yeah. Not quite the conclusion I was hoping for, but it’s good enough. For now. I made it clear that I can be his friend, so long as he puts effort into that friendship.

Personally (I did not tell him this) I’m going to try to let myself feel things for other guys. But I know, and The Captain probably knows, that he’s going to have a place in my heart, no matter what, that will always be his. Likewise, I’ll have one in his. And when we see each other in the spring? Well… I guess that’s just up in the air.

Friday, October 26, 2007

Travel!

People are travelling, and it''s gotten me in the mood to think about the places I've been and the places I'm going. I will absolutely be leaving the country again sometime soon - the itch to see the world is far too great. In the meantime, here is a map of the places I've already been. Keep in mind that this is simply the "pretty" map generator, and that it didn't even have all the places I've been to listed (no Liechtenstein, Gibraltar, Caymen Islands, or Vatican City!).

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Yum!




I make good cakes.

Every year, as a new tradition, I make my best friend a cool birthday cake. Her family generally ignores her birthday, so I like to go the extra mile and make sure she has something special to look forward to. This year I decided that having lived through a year of total turmoil (her last birthday was spent in the hospital, and she would return several times after that) she deserved something.. unique. She thwarted meningitis. She soundly defeated several nasty cuts while working in a deli shop. She overcame IBS, which turned out to not be IBS but might actually be cancer, but she doesn't know yet, and it might just be something minor after all. And she put up with me - which at times is no easy task.

Okay, that's a lie. I'm actually not a difficult person to get along with.

BUT she earned her 1up.

And that's why I made her the 1up cake. An extra life may go a long way =)

Sunday, October 21, 2007

With a little help from my friends

The weekend was amazingly awesome and I can't begin to try explaining it other than to say I'll post some cake photos later and give a little more detail.

One thing that's unrelated to the fantastic weekend was a car ride in which I got to talk with my best friend. It's rare that we actually talk about "normal" things that best friends/girls would talk about. Up until a month or two ago we never mentioned much in terms of deeper and more personal topics about our families, about boys, or about life in general. We were super-acquaintences. Now we're becoming true best friends.

I told her about my talk with Colin. About the questions I'd asked and about how confused I was that Colin answered immediately while Shy flat out refused to give me his thoughts, other than:

I've known girls who are MUCH less attractive than even your undoubtedly stilted view of yourself who have boyfriends and I have also seen girls who are a lot more crazy (honestly, you are not the bucket of neurosis you paint yourself to be, most of the time you seem perfectly normal, if quirky, and everybody is irrational sometimes) with boyfriends

Yeah. That's a different story.

But my best friend made an excellent point: new people we meet find it hard to believe we're single. This has happened to her recently, and she's come to the conclusion that being content with yourself is unusual. People who like who they are without having someone else in their lives to "complete" them tend to be overlooked because they seem happy. Her theory is that most people who WANT to have someone to date are desperate. They tell people they're single and looking. They go out of their way to find someone at parties or social gatherings. They don't sit back and just let life happen.

We let life happen.

Saturday, October 20, 2007

Tired

I’ve had some long talks with my ex, Colin, recently. We were very close friends for a time, and I feel that we can be fully honest with each other without having reservations – which is a good relationship to have with someone who knows you so well. Lately I’ve been asking questions … questions that put him on the spot.

Many of these circle around one theme: why do you think guys don’t want me? I even specifically asked if my looks are what keeps guys away from me, or if it’s my personality. I even asked for specific percentages for each category. (He replied that my personality is at least 60% of why guys don’t want me, and looks are whatever’s remaining).

Tonight Colin asked me if I think companionship is what will make me happy. He said “you make it sound like if you don’t snare a good guy now, you never will.”

I don’t believe that. I think the problem here is that I’m too comfortable talking to Colin, and I assume he and I are on the same wavelength when we’re not. I don’t NEED a boyfriend to be happy. I admit that relationships have been on my mind recently, constantly, but it’s not out of desperation. It’s out of curiosity.

I am a bit of a scientist at heart.

I realized that at 22 years old I should (statistically) have had at least one guy interested in me in my lifetime. But that’s not been the case.

And before you start saying that I’m talking about my ex… he doesn’t count. I pursued him. I had to do everything in the relationship from planning when we got together to implementing the break up because he completely took me for granted. When someone uses you like he used me, that does not constitute “interest.” I know he genuinely cared for me, but doing nothing to ever show it doesn’t give that care any merit. He wouldn’t even admit we were dating.

Back to the point: I realized that I’m somewhat of an anomaly. Naturally, this sparked my curiosity, and I’ve been coming up with different hypotheses about WHY no guy has been interested in me. All of my talks with Colin are a result of me trying to gather data to support of disprove my various hypotheses. I mean, you can’t just make observations without data!

I realize now that my experimental design is flawed. Leading my test variables to believe something incorrect that might impact their data collection is just sloppy. And now my ex thinks I’m crazy.

I think it’s time I just go to sleep. It’s 6:00am, and I just made a 1up cake and cleaned the kitchen.

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Woke up new

The Captain has abandoned ship, and Shy is moving to another state. My boys are leaving me. It… hurts. It’s not like there aren’t other guys I’m close with, but I’ve loved the Captain for years, and Shy… There may not have been anything between us, but there was potential. He’s the kind of guy I could hang out with and share intimate (platonic) physical closeness with. And if we’d gotten the chance to get to that point, who knows what might have transpired? He's the first guy since the Captain that I've felt I might let my guard down with and allow myself to fall for.

I know it was selfish, but I was thinking that Shy would play a major role in me getting over the Captain. It would have helped to get closer to another guy while the other shrank away into darkness. But with Shy leaving, there’s nothing special pulling me out of the Captain’s grasp and I’m afraid that maybe he will pull me down into the darkness with him. I know I’m strong. I know I can will myself to pull through anything. I was just hoping that this time I might have some outside help.

I hate distance. It consumes the soul of a friendship and vanquishes all hope.

Wednesday, October 3, 2007

Feelin' Fine

For a long while I’ve known that Nada Surf captured a big part of my life in their song, “Do it again.” It was this past week, with the whole blow up with my dad, that I rediscovered the song. It tends to pop up when I need it. I'm aware that it's probably a subconscious reaction on my part to stress. But that doesn't make singing the last lines with all my heart any less therapeutic.

My first listen in the car after making a random playlist filled with free songs that Barsuk Records had available for download on their website was memorable. Like many times before, I was listening to get high off the upbeat sound. Lyrics didn’t register so much, but the feel did. It registered, checked in, and made itself at home.

I would have no idea what the song was or who sang it for almost a week. Then I burned it onto a CD with some other similarly upbeat songs and began listening a bit more discernibly.

The introduction tapped into the depression I was refusing to admit I felt, even though I knew it existed. It hit on my own constant need to keep up appearances of having everything together. “I spend all my energy staying upright.” That’s exactly what I did for years. I had nothing left to give after just working to function.

Well I'd snap to attention if I thought that you knew the way
I'd open my mouth if I had something smart to say
I bought a stack of books, I didn't read a thing
It's like I'm sitting here waiting for birds to sing


It made me think of my own lethargy. It was painfully close to my situation of always waiting. Waiting for the people around me to wake up and stop taking me for granted. Waiting for my degree to happen. Waiting for that one guy to step up and tell me he loves me and then actually do something about it. Waiting for my life to start. “It’s like I’m sitting here waiting for birds to sing.” Every time I hear that line it echoes in my heart.

Looking up the lyrics provided me a view into my own emotional state of mind. I’d heard “I like the masked noise quiet of your breathing nearby” as “I like the masked noise of your quiet bleeding me alive” It never occurred to me how that line didn’t fit into the rest of the song, and it never in a million years occurred to me that the line didn’t actually make sense. All I knew what that I sympathized with a person who put energy into a relationship only to be slowly killed by the other person.

I want your lazy science, I want some peace
Are you the future? Show me the keys


All I wanted was a new start with new people. Every day I begged no one in particular to cut me a break. Show me the damned keys.

But the biggest part of the song, the thing that makes me a song I connect with, is the end:

Maybe this weight was a gift
Like I had to see what I could lift


I’ve always stood by this philosophy. All the crap I’ve had to go through, and the pain I’ve been dragged through and saturated in… I always considered it a double-edged sword. I will be far more prepared for my future than I would have been otherwise. I’ve learned to deal with the worst of things. I’ve gotten stronger every time I’ve been cut down because I’m far too stubborn to ever give in to anything. I flat out refuse to be beaten, and there have been very few situations my sheer willpower to overcome adversity has failed to pull me through. Years ago a friend of mine said that I had the strongest will of anyone he’d known. He told me there was nothing in the world my will couldn’t tough me through.

He was damn right.

So yeah, maybe this weight was a gift. And it reasserts my ability to always survive and become a better person.

Thursday, September 27, 2007

Songs

So somebody who I'll be a lady and not name (Jay) found out that we both have a mutual love for the band Our Lady Peace. But when he asked what my favourite song of theirs was, I couldn't give a straight answer. Furthermore, I couldn't even name a favourite album because three of them stand out as being superb in my eyes for totally different reasons. Today I went on a quest to find my favourite song. While I still may not be satisfied with the choice, it will have to do.


Raine's Top Seven Our Lady Peace Songs:

7. "Starseed" from Naveed
This was the first OLP song I ever heard. It is sentimental, it is clean, it is energetic, and it can't be forgotten in my top seven.


6. "4am" from Clumsy
The first time I heard this song I wasn't listening to the words. I was young, I wanted something upbeat, and I changed the track. A few days later, it hit me just how close this song comes to me. Immediately I thought of it as a prediction of what was to come.

I walked around my good intentions
And found that there were none
I blame my father for the wasted years
We hardly talked
I never thought I would forget this hate...



5. "Right Behind You (Mafia)" from Spiritual Machines

For a long time this album was my favourite. I sang this song with all my heart when I was a teenager and all I wanted to do was crawl in a hole and never come out.


4. "Made to Heal" from Spiritual Machines
While this was originally not a song I thought of for the list, it has significance to me personally. It's love and hate. It's.. life.


3. "Potato Girl" from Happiness is Not a Fish that You Can Catch

The buildup, the words, the tune.. it always gets me.

I'm just so tired of waking up on the ground


Oh yes. That just hits me. And so does the rest of the song. Just listen to the lyrics. Listen to his voice.


2. "Is Anybody Home?" from Happiness is Not a Fish that You Can Catch
Not only does it convey the contempt for society that I have, but the song is very well paced. I enjoy when a song that really rocks takes the time to slow down. Those softer words are powerful. They force the listener to pay attention. "Has anybody wasted tears on loneliness that everyone becomes?" Brilliant. Really, how can you not relate?


1. "Annie" from Happiness is Not a Fish that You Can Catch
This song often reminded me of... well, me. Sometimes I wonder if I'd end up like Annie if some little things in my life had been different.

You're a little bit shy, a little too quiet. You're the mixed up girl that everybody leaves behind. A little bit weird, a little to bright. But you just might be that little bomb at their side. They'll pull your hair, they'll leave you wide eyed. But did anybody wonder what Annie might have in mind? Oh no.

This part is very reminiscent of my childhood. While no one pulled my hair (I was very intimidating) they certainly called me names and made me feel like an outcast. I never let it show, but it ate me up inside. I would often imagine the demise of my... enemies.

You're a little bit dry. A little uptight. You're the messed up girl that everyone tries to hide.You've had enough. They're too unkind. But did anyone consider what Annie might have in mind?


I high school I readily identified here. I'd found out that friends of the family had gone years without knowing that I existed, while knowing everything there was to know about my brother. My father didn't find me to be topical because I wasn't accomplishing all the things my brother did. I was also always wearing black, and always looking angry. Because I really /was/ angry.

It wasn't normal teenage angst like my friends. It was anger because I knew my father was cheating on my mother and no one else knew. And what can a kid do about that? I was boiling with rage, and I really would have been considered dangerous had I let anyone know what I was thinking at the time. I often joked that I would be profiled as a school shooter, even though I was a pacifist who made and wore an Anti-War arm band to school from the start of the Iraq war until graduation, and who only skipped school to go to peace rallies in Washington, DC.

Part of me still identifies with Annie. The rest of me knows better.

Monday, September 24, 2007

The weekend

I think I’ve been given the excuse I’ve been looking for to disown my father and never speak to him again. I’d just never imagined it would come around like this.

We tend to argue a lot. And to clarify, I mean that we’ve had three hour long arguments in the past. Since I was about twelve years old he’s been changing. He’s not the same man I waited for at the top of the steps every night when he’d come home from work. He’s a monster. He throws people away like trash and is only concerned with money. He thinks anyone who doesn’t live in a mansion and doesn’t have top-of-the-line everything is a loser. He once told me I was a loser when he asked me what I wanted in life and I replied that all I needed to be happy was to be able to support the family I want in the future and to be happy and live comfortably.

But as he said, only losers don’t want a castle and 40 cars.

So we get into fights over a lot of things. This weekend we went out of town together to visit my brother. He was okay on the flight out, and even pleasant the first day there. I mean, we’ve gotten along so well for months now and it was refreshing to see that we could coexist peacefully. This wouldn’t be the case for long.

He picks a fight with me on the second day just before noon. According to him, I don’t care about looking feminine (his definition is pretty much a skanky whore) and I need to start caring about my appearance. “Everyone I know says you could be a knockout. Why don’t you act and dress the part?” Blah blah blah.

We argue, it gets very heated, I throw up my hands and go inside, and he and my brother go out to the store. Three hours later? He picks the SAME FIGHT again. Only this time he’s insulting me more personally, and then insults my mother for good measure. Long story shorter than it would be otherwise, he says all the right things to get me furious, I call him out on being a jackass, and he transforms even further into a monster, holds his fist up to my face, and then a second later hits me.

It did not hurt. Not physically, anyway.

I yell at him not to hit me. He yells at me to keep quiet. I get off the couch (yeah, he was standing over me the whole time) and leave for a walk. My brother races after me, not knowing what happened other than knowing there was yelling going on in his house. I tell him, he gets pissed at our dad and brings me to sit in his car while he goes inside to give our dad the “what the FUCK were you THINKING?” talk.

I’ve never had anyone stand up for me. Ever. It was nice. I wish I could have heard or seen it. I almost don’t believe it. Not because my brother wouldn’t do that, but because he NEVER stands up to our dad, and no one, ever in the history of my existence, has stood up and fought for me. I was never able to rely on others because no one would ever be there. No one cared enough to get mad over my mistreatment. And honestly to this day I can’t understand why anyone would. I’m so used to thinking I’m unworthy and unwanted that I can’t accept it when someone steps up for me.

But that’s another story.

So my dad and I played nice after a few hours. I think he really thought I was okay with everything. He was wrong. We are completely not okay. I always said that any man who raised a hand to me would be tossed out of my life faster than he could blink. I just never factored in my blood relatives.

So as soon as we got to the airport and my brother was gone, I steadfastly ignored the man. I could not change my seat next to him on the flight, because everything was booked. I was at the window, so I leaned away from him and looked out and listened to my iPod for the duration of the flight. When we got to the airport, I told him I was getting a ride with someone else.

That someone was Shy. I’d sent him text messages about the ordeal after it happened, and asked if he was free to maybe give me a ride to my car from the airport. He doesn’t live far from there. He wasn’t free. But he made the time for me. In the car he told me how he needed to get home before his dad did or there would be hell to pay – while Shy is not religious, his dad is and they’re Muslim. If he didn’t get home in time for prayer for Ramadan, his dad would be really mad. I mean, it’s their major holiday. It’s when he makes his kids observe his religion.

But he got me from the airport anyway. And he talked. And told me stories. And I was laughing and giggling. And I felt like me again after 4 hours of airport/flight crappiness. When we got to my car I dropped my bag on the ground and then got back in the car and leaned over and gave him a hug and thanked him yet again for everything. I told him it meant a lot to me. He told me it was nothing.

I love how boys ALWAYS look like deer in headlights when a girl hugs them and says something sincere =)

So now I have to figure out if I’m throwing my dad out of my life forever. Yep. Decision making is overrated.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

oh god

Long talk with The Captain.

Chest hurts. Can't breathe. Heart ripped to shreds and glued back together. Scar tissue. Love.

Hope.

Goddamnit.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

The votes are in!

I’ve asked around, and it seems there is one clear reason that no guy wants me: I am intimidating. When my ex-boyfriend told me this, I laughed. And no, he wasn’t citing it as the reason we broke up – for I broke up with him. But after a few seconds, I realized that he was probably right. So I polled my male friends – the ones I’m absolutely just friends with, and asked them to be as honest as possible. These were the results:


Boy One: You’re intimidating. I know you’re just being you, but that’s often tough to compete with.

Boy Two: You have a really strong personality. Anyone who knows you knows they can’t dominate you and that turns some guys off.

Boy Three: Scowling. You’re “relaxed” face is something that would make mothers scoop of their kids and run away. It’s ironic because when you’re talking I can’t recall a time when you weren't smiling or grinning.

Boy Four: Intimidation is your middle name. Right?

Boy Five: You’re a guy. You don’t understand decorative-pillows. You give directions with street names and distances, not landmarks. You game and you vie for world domination. Just now when you said you wouldn’t get mad at me for my answer, I knew it wasn’t some girly ploy to use something against me later. You say what you mean. You’re smart. Men compete for alpha male status. They don’t want to compete with a girl for that.

Boy Six: Intimidation. You’re not intimidating to me, because I’ve known you so long I think. But I can definitely see you being so.



I thought I’d get more varied answers. I thought maybe it was some group of things. I didn’t expect the answer to simply be that so long as I’m being myself, I’m just not dateable. I wonder if there are any boys in the world who like a girl with a strong personality, a brain, and an apparent need to compete for alpha male status.



These are a few of my favourite things…

I was going to write a post about a US Senator who is suing god. To prove a point about frivolous lawsuits, he’s seeking a permanent injunction ordering god to cease harmful activities, citing “fearsome floods, egregious earthquakes, horrendous hurricanes, terrifying tornadoes, pestilential plagues, ferocious famines, devastating droughts, genocidal wars, birth defects, and the like.”

It accuses god “of making and continuing to make terroristic threats of grave harm to innumerable persons, including constituents of Plaintiff who Plaintiff has the duty to represent… [as well as] calamitous catastrophes resulting in the wide-spread death, destruction and terrorization of millions upon millions of the Earth’s inhabitants including innocent babes, infants, children, the aged and infirm without mercy or distinction.”

The lawsuit even goes so far as to say that god goes by many aliases, and because god is “omnipresent” it is safe to assume that after reasonable attempts to contact the plaintiff, that god will know of the lawsuit, even though he was unreachable.

I find it pretty ridiculous. Personally I hold all religion in the same contempt, but this? I don’t think it proves his point. Well… maybe a little, but it saddens me that a Senator would make such a mockery of our legal system. Is it also sad that I had a dream last night in which I finally got a copy of the US Constitution small enough to fit in my pocket? I was so happy when I got it.

And… wait a minute! It looks like I wrote the post I’d previously agreed not to write. Very well.


Saturday, September 15, 2007

Knock some sense into yourself

I met myself on a busy Philadelphia street. It was late afternoon, and I was buying Water Ice from Pop’s down on the coolest address in Philly: 1337 Oregon Avenue. [get it? 1337? Oh yes, I am a nerd.]

Twelve years old, dressed in black from head to tow, sarcastic and cynical, I was quite the sight to behold. So what does my 22 year old self say to 12 year old me?

Never be afraid to say what you feel or think, because you’re going to have a shitload of regrets when you don’t. Eventually you’ll get over them, but they’ll always haunt you. And when you feel a connection with someone, always, ALWAYS tell them.

Kiss that boy, damnit. Shyness is not cute when it makes you miserable. Don’t repeat my mistakes. Don’t date a guy for two years and let him get away with never kissing you once. Yeah, he’ll be a ton of fun. Yeah, you’ll care about each other. But it’s not love. Especially when he won’t kiss you because he doesn’t want to get close. He’s right that you’ll leave him behind and go to college. But get your act together and live, damnit! Don’t be me: a college graduate whose never been in a real relationship, let alone hooked up with or even kissed anyone.

Learn to open up. Don’t wait until you’ve had three nervous breakdowns to realize that keeping everything to yourself is a bad idea. You are going to experience terrible things. Lots of death: both slow and horrible and quick and accidental. Your entire childhood will be turned upside down. You’ll be dragged through hell and back like a see-saw. It’s NOT good to bare all of that on your own. It’s okay to act your age and ask for help. Or just find someone to listen.

Cut your hair. I don’t care how much twelve year old me loved having hair so long it went all the way down her back. You freakin’ look better when it’s shorter and just past the shoulders.

Get your hands x-rayed. Yeah, this is a weird one, but sometime between six years old and fifteen years old I broke both my wrists and didn’t think it hurt enough to complain about it. By the time my doctors took an x-ray because I had pain from a week-old injury, my radii had long since healed themselves incorrectly. Breaking a bone into three parts and letting it set itself isn’t good. It will cause a lifetime of pain. Especially when you manage it on two hands!

Stop being a cold-hearted bitch. You know you’re not. You know you’re.. how did Shy put it? A “sweetie pie.” So don’t scare the world away.

Learn to study. Yes, you’re a freakin’ genius. Everyone knows it. You coast through school doing nothing, getting Fs at mid-terms, and then doing a little work and pulling your 62% failing grade to anywhere from 80-95%. I know. So why the hell don’t you just work a little all year? You’ll coast through school, get a 4-year academic scholarship to an excellent university, and then have NO DAMN CLUE what to do in college. Study? YOU? Blasphemy! Right up until you choke and lose your scholarship and barely pass your classes because you still refuse to open a book or do ANY kind of studying. Good job.

Lastly, I’d say, “You’ve traveled the world. Seen 19 different countries. Learned one foreign language and are well on the road to learning another. Drag raced a Camero and won. Made a two-time heavyweight champion of the world cry. Wowed audiences with your original fiction. Had your heart broken by everyone you ever cared for. Lost most of the people you loved. And learned that following your gut will never, ever lead you down the wrong path. And you’re only 22 years old. So chill out, and don’t hate the world and yourself. Because you’ll find out it just doesn’t get better than you, in this lifetime.

And what would my twelve year old self say to me?


“Leave me alone.”

“I can’t believe you cut my hair.”

“You’ve NEVER had a real boyfriend?”

“I can see why no one wants you.”

“Go away.”




Yep. I sure was a “sweetie pie” when I was a kid =P



Friday, September 14, 2007

So I figured...

If random internet people can immediately point out a major flaw in my life, then I've just been a lazy person. Thanks, Jay. I just booked a non-refundable flight to see the Captain in the spring. He is very excited to be seeing me. Who says the internet is full of crazies?

Well... I do, but I'm one of them!

Talked to Shy a whole lot last night. Stupid boy keeps me up late hours with conversation because he's unemployed and doesn't need to wake up early. There were a few very personal moments, but I don't think any went beyond "very good friends." There was also a lot of talk about HBO's Flight of the Conchords. I freakin' love that show. One day I need a guy to sing "If you're into it" to me. Hahahah!



Thursday, September 13, 2007

What the hell?

Oh shit. I just remembered something: What do you do when you find yourself wanting to say "I love you" to someone you don't love?

I caught myself with Shy. We were saying goodbye last night, and I felt my throat tighten just a little the way it always does when I'm about to speak, and in my head I heard "I love you." Sometimes when I think about saying something I can feel myself making the words with my mouth, even though I'm not moving. That's what it was like. I felt it. I felt myself mouthing those words but it was an illusion while I just looked at him with my lips firmly shut. And I don't understand it. I have done this on the phone, too, but I always figured that it was reflexive - as my mother's about the only one who calls me regularly, so maybe Shy catches me in a habit. When I'm not physically in his presence, or hearing his voice, I have no desire or impulse to say those words.

When I think about him, and I mean really think about him, I know I don't love him. So.. deep down I know the truth and for some reason it's not registering? Sounds lame, but it's true. I can search my heart and say that I don't love him with certainty. So why all of this?

With Shy, it's being with him and hearing him that makes me want to blurt out such false sentiments. But with The Captain, I think it regularly, without provocation. That's love. Not this... thing with Shy.

Have I gotten to a point where loving and being loved are so important that I trick myself into thinking that I might want and be wanted in return? Why does it suddenly seem like wanting someone is important to me. I think I'm looking for some way to prove to myself that I'm capable of loving someone in te physical world. Loving The Captain is like loving a literary character. It's so true and not real - because all we have is writing.

This is clearly not the best scenario.




Another night out? Is that a record?

After an hour of figuring out what we were going to do, I saw Shy again. The guy has no decision-making skills, and I have learned that he can’t plan even a few hours in advance for things. He over thinks.

He was less strange, but I only felt once in the whole night that I saw a glimpse of his real personality. The rest of the night it was clouded by other friends with us, the group dynamic, and his irrepressible need to both be close to me and push me away like I’m diseased. I wonder if maybe he doesn't know how to act with a girl who is his friend, not his girlfriend? Funny. And they say girls are complicated.

Also, every time I see him I end the night with odd bug bites on my legs. Maybe he’s a shaman in disguise, and he is plotting my eventual death via slowly getting bitten by a million bugs until one night a deadly, venomous one shows up? Then again, maybe I’m just outside more often when we’re hanging out. Who knows?

Monday, September 10, 2007

Slow Sunday

Today I listened to music and cleaned. The new Spoon album didn't fit my mood and I need a new needle for my record player. I listened to a whole bunch of songs of different genres, but I specifically I threw on a mix with a softer side for a good mid-day rest on my new sofa. It had songs like:

Piano Man, Billy Joel
1979, Smashing Pumpkins
Piazza, New York Catcher, Belle and Sebastian
Current Therapist, In Civilian Clothing
Sway, Jessica King
Stairway to Heaven , Rodrigo y Gabriela
Freeze The Saints, Stephen Malkmus
Beyond the Sea, Royal Crown Revue
Sky Blue Sky, Wilco

Completely wonderful. I doubt there could have been anything more relaxing at that moment in time. It felt like I'd become one with the sofa: and I was comfort.

Had some fun with Illustrator CS3 this evening. Made a few t-shirt designs, and I'm hoping I get the design job I want. I've been saving up money, so I've got enough to buy myself CS3 (I currently use a copy from work) but now I'm thinking my money may be better spent on a new laptop. The Powerbook G4 is three years old now, and Macs leave a horrible taste in my mouth. The time for a PC laptop is approaching. I can feel it in my bones. It will be nice to be dual platform at home again.

Mr. Shy didn't get in touch, but it's been one day - why would he? I thought about it on and off all day. Not because I feel anything for him beyond friendship, but because I'm just tired of complications and I don't want him hurt. I'd considered the idea that I seek complication, and perhaps all of this is in my head - but I'm not that kind of girl. I like things to be clear cut and honest. It's never been honesty and clarity that lacked on my part of things, so I can only assume for now that it's the other person.

Sunday, September 9, 2007

Complications

I have been talking to this amazing guy, Captain Wonderful, online for a few years. He loves me. He told me as much. I am friends with all of his friends. I am possibly his best friend. He told me that, too. And I don’t think he wants me. If he does, he has a strange way of showing it – by dating someone else and replacing me.

I have another guy I’ve been talking to for far less. We’ll call him Mr. Shy. I haven’t been able to figure out if he has a thing for me or not. There are big hints, and there are big possibilities that I’m making it all up because The Captain hurt me.

I met Shy in person last night. We were in a group and didn’t get much time to talk directly with each other, but it was fun. I was kind of a 5th wheel type in the group, but I participated and had a great time. I would love to get to know him, as friends, with some time together that doesn’t involve 800 other people. I am not in love with him. I am fully in love with The Captain. But I would like to get to know Shy a little better. He’s a good friend, and I could use another good friend.

Is it weird that he called me 30 seconds after we said goodbye and got in our cars and left the restaurant where everyone went for drinks? I hope he doesn’t like me, like me. That would make my life far more complicated than it needs to be.

He has pretty blue eyes. Just like The Captain.