Compute This

I don’t want to even get into the number of technical problems I’ve experienced with computers in the past few weeks.  To make a long story short, I contracted a virus on my laptop and it crashed my computer.  I lost everything.  Pictures, files, folders, settings, favorites, documents, etc.  Four years of personal data down the drain.  I cried when I lost my pictures.  I lost the files from my trips to New Orleans and New England.  I’ll be honest with you, the New England pictures meant the world to me.  Now they are gone, save for the ones that I had printed out in an album.  And unfortunately I didn’t print all of them out when I made prints. 

I spent last week toiling to reformat my hard drive, reload software and settings and I was determined to give it a fresh start.  I even went to the trouble of starting fresh on email, IMs and MySpaace.  There were a few personal strategy reasons for doing that, but the biggest of all was, “Why not?”  There was nothing to lose.  And besides, I now have a uniform name for IMs, emails and a MySpaace ID.  And I will actually get my email updates from MySpaace now.  I hadn’t gotten any in years and it was somewhat annoying.

So that was done.  Last night, I was just loading the last of the software onto my laptop to restore it back to pre-crash capabilities when (I am 99% sure) the lamp died.  Now I can only see a black screen of death unless I shine my desk lamp directly onto the screen and squint.  Only then can I barely make out the faint lines of the display.  Super. 

A bit of background here:  I was given a desktop computer for Christmas 2005 from my parents and I had turned it on exactly twice since coming into possession.  I am not really a big fan of the desktop, particularly since the advent of wireless technology.  While my apartment is tiny and I really don’t have many places to go with my laptop, I miss the portability and the feel of the compact keys beneath my fingertips.  My laptop was my widescreen window into the wide world of web.

So I have begun my quest to set up a little shop for myself on this new/old desktop of mine.  I have no choice in the matter until I figure out what to do with the laptop.  Is it cheaper/nobler to try and fix it myself or take the risk of being ripped off by bringing it to a geek/nerd?  Like the Tootsie Pop dilemma, the world may never know.

There is something different about the desktop that is surprisingly refreshing.  Actually, I feel a bit more inspired than usual.  I like the feeling of my fingers on these larger, lighter keys, but I don’t enjoy the hollow sounds as much as I do the minute clicks of my laptop keyboard.  Since I have been having all these computer issues, I have actually learned a great deal about internet security, Windows and other important updates.  I had never reformatted a hard drive before and I always tended to drag my feet when Steve would harp on me to defragment my hard drive and cleanup my disk space daily.  If only he was local.  This would be perhaps the millionth time I’ve thought/uttered the words, but the reasoning behind it has changed.  There are times when I just don’t have the patience to be a strong, independent woman and I just want a big, strong, smart guy to do this stuff for me.  And then I get angry at myself for having these thoughts.

Computer issues really bring out the worst in me and I am knocking loudly on wood right now that I don’t have any more trouble.

As for life, it goes on, and I don’t have much in the way of excitement to report.  I have been working a lot of overtime.  I went in for four hours today to help out with short staffing.  My supervisor and I were talking while it was quiet at work today and he actually suggested that I quit my job and move to either New York or L.A. and make a career out of my writing.  He knows the way to this girl’s heart but life is not quite that simple.  Isn’t it kind of funny when your supervisor suggests that you quit your job?  Well I don’t know if it’s ever happened to you, but it sure is random when it happens to me.

I watched 0pen Water 2: Adrift this morning on cable before work.  I had seen 0pen Water and actually went snorkeling on vacation with the crew that took the film crews out in the Bahamas to film that movie.  I was expecting a cheesy ripoff of the first movie but it was actually pretty decent for a B-rated flick.  It held my interest and kept me in suspense right up to the end and I put off taking my shower until 9 this morning because I just had to see if anyone lived at the end.  I do so love the man vs. ocean conflict.  There’s something so mysterious and dynamic about the ocean…you just never know what to expect.

Anyway, this concludes my lonely babble for the weekend.  Allegra says hi.  I’m going to read something and take myself out for tacos.  Maybe the gym later.  What a gripping life.

Crash

It’s a rather dull, drizzly Memorial Day Weekend.  I am spending most of it by myself in a recuperative effort of self-preservation and relaxation.  I haven’t been as productive on my housework as I’d have liked, but I did manage to log several hours in the company of books.  I have finished recently:  Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte and I just started Stephenie Meyer’s latest, The Host.  The first was okay, the second very good and the third remains to be judged.

I’ve been a bit weirded out by news from Grandma P. stating that my mother had been talking with her and said that if I ever wanted to run off and get married that she would give me whatever the wedding would have cost in cash value.  This was one of those statements made apropos of nothing.  I am not seeing anyone.  I have been single since November and after the latest installment of heartache, I am not up for it.  The closest I have to a guy who loves/cares about me is Steve and he’s just doing that now because I barely give him time of day anymore.  He was one of the few who texted me on my birthday (and the boy doesn’t text), he called me the calculated MINUTE that American Idol announced the finale winner and we have been talking every weekday in between due to the power of workplace IM.  But that’s it. 

I’ve digressed.  Anyway, this kind of talk upset me quite a bit.  To know that the people who care about me think that I’m not good enough just as I am is no surprise.  I have been the model daughter/granddaughter and no matter what I do, it’s never good enough for them.  Why shouldn’t I be surprised that they’d like to see me married off now?  It’s brought up a huge debate in my heart about the subject of being single versus married.  I don’t mean to draw lines between the two, but the lines were drawn long before I came into being.  Society finds it preposterous that a woman of 29 can be fine on her own, with no desire to “land her a man.”  I guess it’s fine if I do meet Mr. Right, but in the meantime, it’s better to be unfettered by all that nonsense.  In the meantime, I wish I was considered worthy of a nest egg now just as I am.  I wouldn’t mind using that chunk of wedding change to start over in a new city where there is more opportunity and culture.  No way would Mom ever do that.  So here I rot.

And as for that First Love saga that was detailed in my previous blog entry, there is nothing to report.  He has basically fallen off the face of existence.  He hasn’t made any attempt to contact me and I have resigned myself to silence.  It hurts but after ten years and all the other heartbreak he’s caused, this is sadly kid’s stuff.

I have been trying to get back in the groove and go to the gym.  It’s my intent to do that at least one of these days this weekend.  It will have to wait for tomorrow as it’s coming up on sundown and I haven’t even eaten dinner yet.  The days are never long enough, even when you’re holed up in your house depressed, listening to Carly Simon on shuffle and reading Bronte novels.  The world doesn’t stop turning for a broken heart.

I can’t help but think something has to change drastically this summer.  I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop this summer.  I know that big change is imminent but I don’t know exactly how/when it’s coming for me.  Meantime, I sit and stew on the homefront.  I’m not good for much else.

I look back over what I’ve written and realize that I really didn’t have much to say but somehow the action of sitting down at the computer and composing my thoughts has emptied my mind, relieved it of its swelling pressure.  Sorry if it makes for lackluster blogging/reporting, but it is my blog, after all.

Oh, one last thing.  A cargo plane carrying 5,000 pounds of mail crashed less than three blocks from where I used to live (This was my last home.  I moved out in December 2006.  I had lived there for five years).  While the news is sad, I’m relieved that I no longer live in that area.  Who wants to find shrapnel and mail in their yard from such a tragic event?  I couldn’t have handled that, too.

Unsent Letter

Dear Love of My Life,

First of all, there is no one who can ever replace you in my heart.  You were my soul mate, my first love, the deepest cut in my bleeding heart.  Our love was so pure that it never hurt a soul and did nothing but brighten the lives that it touched.  I saw forever when I looked into your eyes.  And who, in this crazy world can boast that they saved themselves for each other? 

But the world vowed to keep us apart.  We struggled against all odds as the torrents of trials came our way.  We held on when so many others would have thrown the towel in.  We were so determined not to lose that battle.  The sad truth is, we didn’t stand a chance.  And when the heartbreak came, it clove my heart clean through.  The irreparable damage has never healed.  My heart will never be intact again.

For ten years now, I have spent countless nights crying myself to sleep and dreaming of you.  I wondered why it was that the world had won and why we were not able to find our way back to one another again.  I trusted in fate to see me through the darkest hours.  I would not die by my own hand, which wanted nothing but the comfort of yours.  But I was never alive again.  Never whole again.  I lost you.

And then by some small stroke of magic, I found you again.  Sort of.  I had finally learned to forgive and convinced myself that I could also forget.  When I found you again, you had changed.  I saw glimmers of the young man I’d loved, but the new love was colder, harder.  The world had changed me too.

You waited, I waited.  We tried to find the time that was right.  All the while, we let the absence of one another tear us apart again.  Would it not have been easier to block each other out and never turn down that road again?  Ah, but we’d always regret it if we hadn’t.

And then came a night about a month ago when you told me that you had never stopped loving me, that you were free again, that nothing would stand in our way this time, that we could be together.  And I wanted so badly to believe you.  I just knew that it wasn’t so.  Something wasn’t right. 

You weren’t free.  You were with her.  You lied to her, you lied to me.  You cheated on me; you cheated on her.  For no real reason that you can ever explain, you dared to think of only yourself.  Your love for me was no longer true nor pure.  You avoided my three telephone calls and never returned them.  My messages went unanswered and possibly unread.  And then you came clean to the world about the injustice you had caused her.  You rued the day you had hurt her.  No mention of the other woman.  Me.  The first woman you ever loved.  The woman you also lied to.  The woman who was cheated of a whole lot more.  And yet I feel bad for her.

You didn’t call on my birthday.  After all that, I guess I should have been done.

But no. 

I called you on your birthday, five days later and left you another message wishing you a happy day.  That phone call went unanswered.

On a whim, I blocked my caller ID and called again.  You answered right away.  But it didn’t sound like you.  It sounded like a gruff, unhappy, broken man that answered.  And your “Hello, hello, hello” sounded all too much like “Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.  Because I knew then that you were not only ignoring my calls but purposely not calling me back.

And now, my love, I leave you with this:  I will always love you.  I forgive you.  I will never forget you or what happened.  And this is a bittersweet end to a tale that should have been in storybooks with a “happily ever after” at the end.  Despite the outcome, you hold that forever place in my heart.  I have never been happier since I was with you.

I am bound to walk this earth alone now, but I have loved no one more in this life than you.

With deepest emotion,

She

If You’re Reading This…

…you would probably be in the minority.  I haven’t updated this blog in three whole weeks.  It was like my spirit had been stolen from me.  I don’t exactly know what the problem was.  Part of it may have been the fact that I was banned from using the internet for personal reasons at work due to a temporary (and ultimately retarded) policy.  Don’t ask me why the policy was only temporary.  I would be the first to admit that my performance at work has been fueled by the “DILIGAF” campaign.  I don’t see this job as anything more than a stepping stone and I feel myself clamoring for something, anything to get better.  I’m sick of sacrificing personal direction for dollars in my pocket.  Eventually something is going to have to give.  But for now, I have a list of things I want/need in life and money is pretty damned important when you have no one to depend upon but yourself. 

My vacation is sneaking up on me now.  I can’t believe it’s less than two weeks until departure.   I finally just bit the bullet and booked my suite to share with Deb in Miami and printed off all the confirmation codes and my e-ticket/itinerary.  I still haven’t received jack for cruise information.  Deb was the primary contact person listed on the trip since she used her credit card to book the stateroom for us, so she received a booklet of information and as yet has had no way of sharing it.  I am considering calling the cruiseline tomorrow and requesting them to send an extra copy for the girl who lives 2,000 miles away.  Considering I paid half of the fare, I should be entitled.

I have mixed feelings about this vacation.  I guess in a way I am looking forward to it but in another way I am dreading it.  I have been fixated on losing weight the past week or so to look more presentable in my swimwear.  It nearly broke my heart to receive my two new suits in the mail and realize that I looked like a pasty white cow in them.  I stepped up my exercise regime so hardcore that I was literally in pain sitting, standing or moving.  The worst place was my inner thighs.  I felt like I had been riding a horse for days.  My “work husband” (the guy that sits next to me) thinks I have been up to something much more exciting and promiscuous than merely working out.  He has been teasing me all week asking what I have really been doing in my spare time.  It cracks me up.  Such a glamorous life I lead in his fantasies.

Although I will say I had a rather star-studded weekend by East Jesus standards.  The Pr0fessional Bu11 Riders were in town this weekend and I went to dinner with Kelly and then the event (free, courtesy of MT Liqu0r!).  Afterwards, I stayed out until well after 2 a.m. riding country backroads with Kelly and listening to mix CDs on her car stereo. 

Saturday night, we went out to my favorite club, a swanky martini bar/dance club.  We started drinking relatively early (9 pm) and I got totally happy drunk.  I danced like nobody’s fool on that dance floor, both solo and with my strapping, young (22-year-old) dance partner.  We seem to have a mutual understanding.  In the club, he’s mine for the dancing, and afterwards, he goes home with my friend for the “after-party.”  I have no designs on him, but I really do enjoy dancing with him.  Who knew I was such a dancer?  I can see myself meeting a guy who not only loves me for who I am but who complements me on the dance floor.  Here’s hoping visualization works.

While I’ve been enjoying the company of friends and branching out my social circle even more lately, I can’t help but feel as if something is missing from it all.  And while I’m entirely independent and enjoy staying in sometimes and just curling up with my poodle and a good flick or a book, I’m at a stage in my life where I am starting to feel my age.  And while I realize that I will be 29 in less than two weeks, I’m behaving like a 21-year-old and enjoying my lack of responsibility/obligation to anyone.  Whereas most of my friends are totally whipped by marriage and children and have lost touch with who they really are, I am having a wild adventure as captain of my own destiny.  And I’m sailing in dangerous waters after I know I should be craving calm seas.  So I’m feeling it’s time I met my first mate…or reeled him back in.

Because…for all I know…maybe it’s someone I’ve already loved.  I have such a hard time with new people.  I am so shy and reserved and people get the sense that I am stuffy and elitist when it’s just more of a social disease that I have.  I do think it’s a hormonal issue that runs in the family as my brother has admitted he has social anxiety too. 

Saturday night when I was drunk, I felt SO good.  I felt like I was the happiest, most energetic and outgoing version of myself possible.  Everywhere I went, people were smiling at me or bonding over smalltalk.  I had a colleague grab me in the bar and exclaim, “Girl, you totally need to find some cute guy to take you home!” when she saw how drunk I was.  LOL  I was actually walking out of the club at closing time and there were some black guys getting into a fist fight by the door and I guess I had absolutely no qualms in walking right up to them and yelling “Give peace a chance!”  And when we walked by a nearby bar named The Rainb0w, I broke into the full version of “0ver the Rainb0w” at the top of my lungs.  Yes, at 2:00 a.m. on a downtown street.  At IHOP, I made a waiter, cashier and a whole table full of people laugh.  The cashier invited us back next week for “Sunday morning breakfast” because we had such a good time laughing at check-out.  I NEVER make friends like this.

Sigh.  Wish I had the liquid courage in me at all times.  Part of it might be extra confidence from working out and seeing/feeling some major results for a change.  But I think the alcohol soothed my nerves and left me free to be myself.  Problem is, I can’t drink all the time, you know?  But now I do see why people become alcoholics.  It’s not because they like beer.  It’s because they like themselves better with a few beers in their system.  Eventually you have to drink more to get the same results as your tolerance increases and pretty soon, you’re just…hooked.  So I think next weekend I am going to be bar-free.  Unless my job drives me to drink again…which it probably will.

Let’s see, what else can I tell you?  I haven’t been reading as much.  I have stopped writing altogether, minus the occasional brief MySpace blog where I put my most random entries.  My novel is at a standstill.  I’ve received some great criticism on it and realized that I’ll probably be able to do all my ideas…IF I re-write.  So I’m at a roadblock for the time being.  I have been negligent on She1fari, too.  I am not participating in my book groups and my page count isn’t impressive at the moment.  I MIGHT read 50 books this year if I get really ambitious and keep up with the pace of the first couple months of the year.  But it will be a stretch, I tell you.

As for the love life…I have realized that (despite the near impossibility of it), it’s best to just walk away from the men of my past.  As much as I will probably always love Chris S. and Steve, they weren’t good for me.  I don’t think I mentioned that approximately three weeks ago, I had a rare IM conversation with Chris S. and we talked for over an hour and all systems seemed “GO” but he basically fled the scene and then dropped off the face of the earth.  Now if he had meant any of the words he said to me in the IMs, he would have already planned that trip out to see me.  He actually asked me if I was on birth control.  I joked back “What, don’t you want me to have your baby?” and he replied, “No, at least not yet.”  He also told me he had just inherited a house and how he wanted to make love with me in every room of it.  This is the old Chris.  The perfect match for me.  And then he just…poof! vanished.  For a guy that claims to be single, it’s awfully fishy.  After talking with friends who know our history and one that is mutually friends with Chris and me, the general consensus is that he probably isn’t single, but he so wanted to be when he found out that I am that he lied to me.  And…sources who know things from his perspective tell me that he’s still very much in love with me.  Which, I don’t doubt.  Too bad he fucks things up like no other.  Because he was my soulmate.  And you have no idea how much I wanted our lonely days to be over and break this curse that has lasted more than ten years between us.

Meanwhile…Steve and I occasionally IM at work or have a brief phone chat after American Idol (pretty much the only thing we have in common these days), but despite residual feelings, I think we’re both singing the same Roxette song:  “It Must’ve Been Love…But It’s Over Now.”  I miss him most when I hear his voice.  It’s a little bit like rubbing salt in the wound since I have zero attraction to him over the internet.  But the chemistry was always like that with us.  We have a strange “Don’t ask, don’t tell” thing going on too.  It’s hard because I know that we would actually have more to talk about if we knew it wouldn’t make the other uncomfortable.  I know by now we’ve both dated/kissed other people.  I can only speculate that he has had more favorable results with his dating conquests than I had with my blind date.  But it’s not for me to speculate either. 

My motto with guys lately is to leave them alone and let them find their ways home.  IF they are meant to be mine, they will find their way back.  If not, then God bless the broken road.

Wow, it’s after midnight and I feel as if I’ve only shed light into one little corner of my soul.  It was high time I updated though.  I need to do this more often.  I can’t help but reserve some paranoia now after all the crap at work about the internet.  I don’t update from there anymore and I guess I just haven’t felt much like me lately.  Maybe I’ll just get over these quarter-life blues.

If it gets quiet around here, don’t be alarmed.  It’s just me taking time out to find myself.

 

Frazzled Friday

Luckily, it’s Friday.  This has been a lackluster week.  I am ready for another weekend of relaxation and socialization.  Last night my phone rang while I was down in the laundry room, I heard my cell phone ringing.  I was pretty sure it was Melissa calling me, but when I got back upstairs and checked my missed calls, I discovered I had missed a call from B.J. and he had included a voicemail.  So I listened to the voicemail, mainly out of curiosity and he said “Hi A., this is B.J. and I was checking to see if you wanted to get together this weekend.  Call me.”  Yeah, no.  Not so much.  Who waits until Thursday night to make plans for the weekend?  Granted, I don’t have anything planned that is set in stone for the weekend but I like it like that.

I feel like I should at least return the bottle of home brew to B.J. since I myself will not be partaking in the wheaty beer.  But part of me doesn’t even want to see him again or give him any false sense of hope.  The honest thing to do would be to tell him point blank that I have no intention of seeing him casually or seriously and tell him that there was no love connection.  But part of me thinks it would be almost easier to ignore calls and write him off.  It was a first date.   And not even a good one at that.  What would be the proper protocol here?  Hopefully nothing too painful for both parties.  I don’t want to be a killjoy or harbinger of doom.

There’s not a lot to report if I don’t talk about my love life and at this point in my wishy-washy world, I don’t feel the need to elaborate further.  I did some reading, went to the gym for cardio, spent quality time with Allegra, did laundry and dishes and chatted on the phone and online in the evenings.  Work continues to grate by with alarming slowness.  Only three hours left on this day called Fri.

In bookworm news, I have finally moved on to my March “B00k Tag” Group novel of the month.  We had to choose something that was tagged as “young adult” and I decided to start a series.  The books are part of the “Wicked” series by Nancy Holder and Debbie Viguie, and I bought all four books in two distinct volumes.  The first volume includes Witch and Curse.  I thought they would be like Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight vampire series since they are both dark young adult novels about a family of witches.  So far, I’m enjoying the first book.  Hopefully I’ll have it done by month’s end so I am not slacking in my book group obligations.  Besides, March has pretty much been a bust month for page count.

Sorry to spiral into boredom, but the day is dragging and the weekend is taunting and teasing me like an unruly schoolboy.  I can practically feel it tugging on the proverbial braid.  I wish my spa day was this Saturday but I have to wait until the following weekend.  I could really go for a nice hot stone massage.

Happy weekend one and all!

A Rock Star Easter

This has been another busy weekend in the life of a Montana spinster.

I got up early (for a Saturday), showered and dressed and left the house to see a most beautiful spring snow scene.  The trees around the historic district were in full thickly-coated snow regalia.  The snow on the sidewalks and streets was melted, the sun was shining like a golden globe and I just knew the 3-4 inches of snowfall was soon to be gone.  I cherished the moment as I drove to the salon.  It was my first time back to my usual stylist in about a year.  After she had gone on maternity leave, things were a bit mucked-up schedule wise, so I had been going to another young girl who I actually really like for those “in a pinch” situations.  But it was good to be back to my regular stylist.  She does a great job on my highlights and gives me discounts on my eyebrow waxing because I get it all done on the one visit.  Highlights, shampoo, wax, trim and style for $70?  Steal!  Kelly was telling me that her cousin Kim pays $130 for her highlight and trim alone.  And because Kelly’s hair is so long, she pays around that figure.  Ah, the price of beauty.

After the salon, I stopped off at the new age bookstore and kind of browsed.  I hadn’t been in there in ages and I was feeling all reverent and at ease amongst the surprising amount of other shoppers.  I wasn’t in a buying mood, but I enjoyed my visit anyway. 

Next, I came home and met the cable guy.  He swapped out my DVR and we troubleshooted the V1deo 0n Demand issue I was having with one of the dispatchers at work.  It was kind of cool because I knew what was going on the whole time, and I am not a technically savvy individual.  Problem fixed, I bid my tech friend adieu and rented Across the Universe on demand.  I watched half before getting very sleepy and retreating to my bedroom for a nap.

Then I got up, called Kelly to see what was going on for the evening and we decided to go have dinner (Italian).  I rarely eat Italian anymore, but it was really good.  I had some type of chicken sauteed in a wine sauce over angel hair pasta with herbs and tomatoes.  Very tasty.  Kelly picked up the tab, which was cool of her.

We went to one another’s houses to freshen up (hers first, then mine) and hung out.  It was actually sort of fun just chillaxing at home and getting all dolled up.  I miss that sisterhood type thing.  Then we picked up her other friend (also named Kelly), so it was off to the club with the two Kellys. 

One of our usual smoke-free hangouts was charging a cover so we kind of scowled since it’s not a usual thing.  However, there was a pretty cool band playing.  So we kind of wall-flowered it over in a corner at a surfboard table and spent the evening listening to music, snapping pictures, drunk-texting and most of all, people watching.  I actually had a pretty good time.

Then we went to America’s favorite two a.m. eatery (Denny’s) and had a breakfast.  I was the most sober of everyone.  Over the course of the night I had one whole drink, part of another and one shot.  And I quit drinking over an hour before we moved on to the next scene.  Despite being the only one who was sober, I had a good time.  I usually struggle to feel part of a group if I’m the only one that isn’t drunk, but I guess the dynamics all worked out with me and the two Kellys.

It was another early morning/late night for me.  I was in bed by ten after 4.  And up by 11:00.  Such a rock star….

And wow, it’s Easter.  What a weird concept.  It feels soo…unholy to have partied into the resurrection of Christ holiday.  But I think to myself:  WWJD?  He would have been at the bar with us having drinks, chilling out and he’d have broken bread at Denny’s too.

To all my peeps who read, Happy Easter!

No Love Connection

I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open, but I wanted to document fresh after my evening out on the town. 

Basically I pulled an 8-hour shift at work, ran home to attend to Allegra and freshen up, zipped over to the restaurant within the hour to meet B.J. for our date.  I walked in, did a quick scope of the restaurant and then finally found him in the restaurant bar at a high-top table.  He looked like he’d been there a while, waiting and of course he had been working on a beer or two.  He came up to me…we shook hands and then sat down at the table. 

Um, yeah.  It’s not that he’s not attractive.  It’s just that he’s not exactly my type.  And I quickly discovered that he and I were like oil and water.  Don’t get me wrong…we got along.  But we’re totally incompatible.  This guy dreams of farming.  He is good at math.  He brews his own beer and we all know that je deteste le biere.  He hunts.  He lives in a somewhat outskirty/rural area.  He is pretty religious apparently because he told me he’d have to order fish for dinner.  Je deteste les poissons aussi.  And here was the kicker:  we were on the subject of travel and I told him that the view from the Eiffel Tower is astonishing.  And he said (and I quote!) “Ahh, London.”  Ok…that?  Would have been funny as a joke, but I really think he meant it.

So the movie that he picked out?  Was The Bank J0b.  Now, the movie itself was actually not my style at all, but I tolerated it.  It actually started out like a 70′s porno.  I mean, there were T&A in a myriad of scenes throughout the show and he of course got a great kick out of all of it.  We walked in late, sat too close and he kept bumping his leg and hands up alongside my thigh (intentionally? unintentionally? either way, annoying).  My eyes were actually watering from sitting too close to the damned screen and I was tired after the movie.  And when we stepped outside, gone was the 60 degree weather of earlier.  It was snowing, folks.

I had him drive me back to my car at the restaurant.  He parked next to my vehicle and asked for a kiss.  Yes, asked!  Call me peevish, but I don’t like to be asked.  And when we kissed (because how can you say no to a guy who asks for a kiss after dropping $50 on dinner and a movie?) he was a wet and sloppy kisser.  No chemistry at all.  I could have kissed his fish before it met the skillet and saved us both the trouble.

I did give him my number and tried to cut the date off as politely as possible right then and there.  He actually joked about “We can go fool around for a bit…” and I couldn’t tell if he meant waste time together or actually mess around.   Either way…I wasn’t ready for that level of intimacy.  He made sure to give me a parting gift of a bottle of home-brewed beer.  While the sentiment was sweet and his heart was in the right place, it was a bit odd.

He called me about 3 minutes after we parted ways to ask if I got out of the parking lot okay.  Um, no, no I didn’t….I had trouble getting out of the parking lot with the 1 centimeter of snowfall….  Honestly.

Ok, so after all that, he said to me, “You can spend the night at my place.”

“Umm, well, I’m already about halfway home….”

“Well, I could come to your place….  If I had some directions that is.”

Umm, no.  Not so much.  Call me old fashioned, but I was not digging his brazen attempts at hooking up.

I finagled my way out of this most uncomfortable position by telling him that a friend had just called (Kelly) and asked me to a late movie (which was true).  I invited him to join us to see the movie but he dropped that offer like a hot potato. 

So then I met Kelly and her guy friend, Brook for another movie.  And after my cinematic bender, I went home.  The snow was beautiful, lacy and serene and as I walked from my car up to my flat and turned to see my solitary footprints leading up to home, I took a moment to be thankful that I was alone.  After a full day of work/social, I am positively ready to retreat.  My sweet little poodle is warming my bed and giving me the eye every few minutes, waiting to snuggle up next to me.  And so I end this night with a long, heavy sigh of relief.  That’s a wrap.

Witching Hour

It’s the “witching hour” and I’m lighting up the dark here in my quaint little office/bedroom flat.  The washing machine is running on a load of darks down in the basement, my air purifier is breathing out cool ionized air onto my bare arm, Allegra is rooting around on the floor, looking for toys and my Zune is docked on some romantic tunes.  Oh, and dare I mention the full moon tonight?  It’s a writing night, for sure.

There have been a lot of restless/sleepless nights lately.  There is so much going on in my life and I barely have time to breathe some days.  And combined with what is going on in my head and heart, it’s all such a cluster.  I hope that you, my readers realize that I am normally not so disordered, but there is a lot of emotional spillage.

I’ll start with the simple stuff.  I got my annual raise at work.  32 cents/hour.  I will try not to spend it all in one place.  I think I may have tipped my waitress more tonight than a week’s worth of raise money.  Heh.  And call volume at work is at an all-time low, so right now I am a disgruntled employee.  Well, there are other reasons I don’t have time to get into right now.  But today I actually got to the point of annoyance at work where I actually put up a big nasty headline on MiSpace to tell everyone how disgruntled I was with the whole thing.  I know I am wasting my potential.  Whenever I start setting my sights on my writing goals and my future career, I start feeling resentment toward the job that I am stuck with for the time being.  I try to tell myself that it is not permanent and that it’s a stepping stone, but now after nearly three years of spinning my wheels in the sand fast, I am chomping at the bit for change.

People ask me what my ideals are…what would I rather be doing?  In a perfect world, Steve would realize that he and I are meant to be together.  He’d realize that I was still in love with him and missed him like crazy (because he truly did told me yesterday that he can read my mind).  He would tell me that he doesn’t want to live another minute without me in his life.  He would take vacation time, drive out here in his new ride, rent me a moving van, help me pack the essentials and we’d drive cross-country together, shack up and get married somewhere under a New England sunset.  And then I would write for a living while he brought home the bacon.  A girl can dream.

I firmly believe that he still loves me right now but has a difficult time expressing it.  He admitted that he missed me on Monday night when we were on the telephone.  It was a difficult phone call because I was riding home from yoga class and endorphins were merging with weird hormones.  It was the first time in almost a month that I had heard his voice and the timing of his call was so bizarre.  I was parked at a stoplight and I reached for my phone and was thinking about him and daydreaming.  I sort of caressed the phone and then it started vibrating in my hand.  And it was him.  The call started out somewhat strained.  Then I was settling in for the night and after we had been talking a while, he said something that triggered the tears and I couldn’t hold them back.  I just cried then and he asked what was wrong.  I told him that I didn’t know exactly but that something was very wrong.  I then admitted to him that I thought by now that I should be moving on with my life but I couldn’t get over him. 

He said to me in a somewhat frantic tone, “Well, Angela, what do you want me to DO?” 

Through all my tears and frustration with the situation, I really had no answer.  I think I blubbered back, “I don’t know.  There is nothing you can do.”  And then released another streamlet of tears and sniffles. 

What I really wanted to say was, “I want you to love me as much as I love you.”  But as pathetic as I was already feeling, I just don’t know if I could have brought myself to say it.  I mean, there I was bawling on the phone with my ex-boyfriend.  The second great love of my life probably was thanking God he had ended things before I had gotten too psycho.

So we are crazy about one another.  What then?  We still might as well live on different planets for as often as we were able to get together and be completely happy/justified in the love that we shared.  I wouldn’t want him back under those circumstances.  I would want all or nothing.

Love is a drug worse than anything else I know.  What is it that makes us want it so badly, that we would forsake our own dignity and self-respect to get it?  Why, when it steps on our toes and beats us down, do we go running for it and try so desperately to hold onto it?  And why is it that when you really love someone that you don’t think anything or anyone else will ever make you feel as complete as having them in your arms?

A couple of things that lead me to believe I am not a completely unfortunate and helpless creature right now….  Yesterday Steve said that he was reading my mind and I asked him what he saw.  I was all focusing really hard on telepathing “I love you” to him when he said, “You want me to do To11booth Willie for you.”  So, this is kind of an inside/outside joke.  Some of you may know that really old school Adam Sand1er CD where he has different skits:  “Lunch Lady, Hannukah, Beating of a H.S. Librarian….”  If you’re familiar, you know there is a skit called “To11booth Willie.”  And in that skit, there is a very funny Masshole accent and references to “Wisstah” (Worcester, MA).  Steve and I were driving back from our overnight excursion to Connecticut last spring when we actually drove through the afore-mentioned town in Mass. and back when we had first met, he used to stay up late on the phone doing that impression for me.  Well, we actually went through THE to11booth that was parodied in the skit.  And as we drove through, he did that accent for me.  I am quite certain that he knows without a shadow of a doubt that is one of the things at which I can’t help but laugh riotously.  It was a guaranteed laugh and he knows I’m putty for a guy who can make me laugh.  And in some really deep, reaching way I took that to mean that he got the message.  He knows I could never kick his voice and accent out of bed.  And I think he did it to a) remind me of the best of times and b) to deliver the hidden message that he loves me still.  Someone please slap me and tell me I am reaching here.

Then today while we were at work and IMing, we were talking about how I need his help with my computer and he got all bent out of shape because he knows I have a date with an engineer Friday night.  He said, “Well you are all set; why don’t you have your engineer fix it for you?”  I could totally sense the hostility and resentment in his voice.

I said, “Steven, I thought we were friends and don’t friends help each other out?”

“Get someone else to help you.”

“Wow, such hostility.  I really did think we were friends.”

And of course, deep in my heart I know that he was a) jealous of me seeing someone else, b) I had a hunch he was angry at me because I told him we were “friends” and c) I think he wants me.

I had to run it all past Kelly at dinner tonight and she totally backed up my foregone conclusions without any coaching from me.  I actually relayed the whole story to her and then at the end asked, “What do you think it means?”

“I think it means he was pissed at you because you said that the two of you were just friends.  He still wants you.”

That still doesn’t stop him from being totally unavailable and emotionally distant from me lately.  And we’ve been officially broken up since November.  I feel like all this time between us is dangerous and every day I am losing the possibility of some reconcilation.  I guess the Romantic in me doesn’t want to admit that the distance killed it.  I know deep down we both love one another and we have this amazing chemistry that hasn’t cooled.  And it seems totally unfair to be so distant with one another after all these years. 

Sigh.  These emotions have me totally whipped and it’s all so out of left field.  I had thought for sure that I was happy and moving on with life and sort of had this random epiphany about it all over the past weekend.  I don’t know how many more niggling doubts I can harbor in the corners of my mind but this is starting to get ridiculous.

As if there weren’t enough complications in my life, the other night I actually talked in IM with Chris S. again (for those of you new to the show, he is the First Great Love Of My Life).  We only IMed briefly but he immediately told me he was horny and I asked him if he was still in a relationship.  He told me that they had broken up a month ago.  However, much to his detriment here, he has a quite recent comment from said chick on his MiSpace comments, stating what a great boyfriend he is and being all sappy and lovey.  He had just asked me if I was still in a relationship and I told him no, that I had broken up with Steve back in November.  Chris told me he was sorry about that and I typed out a “Sorry about your relationship too.”  Then, without any notice, he bailed.  Mr. Horny was gone in a flash and never came back. 

And before you start rolling your eyes, yes I still love him.  And I am sure he still loves me too.  I don’t know how I can be so certain of these things.  But I would lay my life down on the line that the two great loves of my life are still harboring feelings for me.  And of course both of them broke up with me when we had circumstances beyond our control rob us of happiness (family/distance).  So we never had a chance to fall out of love.  And living thousands of miles, respectively from each of them, I have to tell myself that clearly I am all about unavailable men.  It’s like I have some sort of phobia or failure in dating local men.

Which brings me to this date I have…technically tonight in about 17 hours.  I am trying so desperately to remain calm, but I am freaking out here.  I haven’t been on a new date without being in a relationship in about ten years!!!  It’s so much easier just to fall in love first, then date. 

One piece of good news:  Semi-Pr0 is no longer playing and I am actually sort of relieved.  I had heard it was lame and it didn’t strike me as a must-see.  I am going to try to convince my date to see Shutter instead.  What’s better than a PG-13 horror movie first date?  IF that is how we’ll roll, I will feel a bit more comfortable.  I wasn’t feeling his vibe with the BBQ joint and man-comedy movie pick.

And this last tidbit is totally unrelated, but:  tonight I went to Target to get some essentials:  shampoo, conditioner, socks, condoms, etc.  And I just knew I was going to have the condoms in my cart and bump into someone I knew.  Sure enough, one of my best friends’ sisters stopped and chatted with me and gave me a funny look after glimpsing my cart.  I am pretty sure it was all about the condoms.  I am NOT a ho, but the last time I bought condoms was probably two years ago and they almost expired before Steve finally got out here to visit.  This time, I just want to be prepared for whatever happens.

Kelly thinks I should try to contact Chris and give him a second chance to come up here since turning him down last time he asked to come out to visit.  She said I owed it to myself to give him another try.  While I agree that he definitely deserves another chance and that I actually regretted having to turn him down last time, I still can’t help but have all these freshly-stirred feelings for Steve.

Meanwhile, I think that if this date with B.J. goes anything but awesome, I am going to pull my iron out of the local fire and call it good for a while.  I have learned my lesson not to jump in where it’s hotter than I can handle.  I don’t need anymore men on my plate.  I just need to deal with the ones that are already ruling my heart and my head and keeping me up half the night.

Still, this weekend should be interesting.

Green Day

I have a little bit of time before I have to leave for yoga class, so I thought I’d take advantage and write.  This past weekend was rather lovely, actually.  It left me feeling happy and carefree after all was said and done.  Friday night and Saturday morning were spent in productive relaxation around the house.  I cleared out my DVR, wrote a little in my novel and posted my first chapter in a secure location online for interested audiences.  It’s so difficult for me to put it out there.  I imagine it must be like sending your children off to school for the first time.  No matter how great a job you think you might’ve done, you can’t help but wonder if the rest of the world will see failures and shortcomings.  This novel is my creative baby, these characters my progeny.  And if it’s not good enough to hold someone’s interest right from the beginning, what makes me think it’s even worthy of being published?  It’s a total mindfuck, I tell you.

Saturday I went out on the town with Kelly and her cousin and friend.  The night started off hard for me…I was the last one to get a buzz going.  But the combination of not one, but two! smoke-free night clubs in town within a block of one another raised me up and the Jamaican 10-speed kept me grinning from ear to ear.  The club was packed and I even danced with the girls and a guy we rustled up.

Sunday I slept in until all of ten a.m. before Kelly was calling again.  We met up in the early afternoon and went shopping.  I got some stuff for Lucas & LeeAnne’s new baby girl, M (born Friday in their home via midwife and doola).  Then we went over to their place and I got to see and hold the new baby.  Less than 48 hours old — priceless!

I think all the estrogen at L&L’s house triggered my period early.  I had a surprise spotting issue and then it came on with a vengeance.  I was almost doubled over in pain later that evening.  I had taken Grandma P. to dinner at Subway and then we went to “27 Dresses” and I was almost doubled over in pain from the cramps right before the movie started.  I told Grandma P. that it was probably the butter on the couple of handfuls of popcorn I had eaten that upset my stomach.  And well, it could’ve been that…but I really think some unseen force was driving a Mack truck through my uterus.  Yow.

This weekend was strange.  I started missing Steve in the midst of everything and so wanted to call him but I also wanted to let him miss me.  I don’t think he really cares anymore because I try to talk with him at work and he’s always too busy and short with his answers in IM and the rare occasions I do actually call him and leave a voicemail, he never calls me back.  Maybe he’s found someone and moved on.

Speaking of finding someone and moving on…the date is all set for Good Friday.  I am meeting B.J. at a BBQ joint and then we’re going to see a movie (that new one about Will Ferrell and basketball).  Both of these places were his choice.  Although to his credit, he did ask me if I had a day off on Friday for the holiday and if so, suggested we should take a ride in his plane.  I told him I wasn’t fortunate enough to have the day off but I liked the idea.  Maybe we’ll save that for Date #2 (if the first date warrants an encore).  I have such an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach about this date…I keep waiting for Steve to call and tell me he wants me and that this is some foolish mistake.

I know.

He won’t.

But my heart doesn’t want to admit it just yet.

Oh yeah, and I almost forgot:  Happy St. Patrick’s Day to you lovely lads and lassies!

Saving Dates

Lately it feels as if I’ve been saving dates in my head.   I am starting to see the calendar heat up for appointments, vacation and personal dates, so this recent flurry of activity leaves me craving fruit (ie: a Blackberry!).  This is a nice change and I think it’s only possible because of my que sera, sera atttidue.  I am just trying to stay positive and go with the flow.

So tomorrow night I’m expecting my first call from The Aviator (finally).  We hadn’t been in touch at all over the past couple of weeks and I finally broke down and sent him a message to ask how things were going and he replied with the most briefest/breeziest of responses.  Then he asked me if we might be able to speak on Saturday sometime after 4 pm Pacific.  I replied with a yes, so we’ll see.

I hope he doesn’t wait too late to call though, because I’m supposed to be heading out on the downtown scene with a group of friends for a girls’ night out tomorrow night.  Last night I hosted Kelly and her cousin at my house to watch Dan in Real Life and we cemented the plans for a girl’s night out Saturday, complete with a designated driver (I’m not it!).

Then we’ve got our practical matters like my haircut/highlights touchup next Saturday, my cable checkup on the following Saturday.  And well, I have a date.

Good Friday, which also happens to be a new moon (ideal timing for starting something new), I am meeting up with a man I met though a… *cough, gag, choke* dating website.  I don’t know what possessed me to sign up.  I have my profile filled out, my picture under lock and key to save myself some semblance of privacy.  I really do feel completely exposed here on the internet.  So far there have been a handful of hits.  Everything has felt pretty seedy up until I met B.J.  This guy is younger than me by two years.  He is an engineer and has his own plane.  What the hell is up with all the aviators anyway?

Anyway, long story short, B.J. and I have been messaging back and forth the past couple of weeks.  I was feeling quite shy because I could tell he was going to suggest a date this weekend so I avoided the dating website all week.  I logged in today and sure enough, he had asked me out at the beginning of the week for tonight.   I had to turn him down because my real Friday night plans are to chill on the homefront, update my diary and work out at the gym.  No, really, I was looking for any excuse not to jump in head first.  This all seems a bit fast for me.  Somehow.

But then I convinced myself to act and asked him how next weekend was looking.  He’ll be out of town so he suggested Good Friday.  So I accepted right away.  Deep breath.  I hope that two weeks from tonight I am ready for my dating debut. 

Meanwhile, I haven’t spoken with Steve much lately.  Today was the first few tidbits of conversation I really had with him all week and he informed me his plans this weekend were to a) go out tonight, b) go to a car convention tomorrow and c) chillax at home and do chores/laundry.  When he told me that he’ll be home on Sunday, I actually felt a twinge of mixed emotions in my heart and thought about calling him.  But I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.  I mean, I really miss him.  I just don’t think he wants to put forth the effort that is necessary to even maintain contact.  So I will let him sit out in the rain for a while and wonder what he’s missing.  If we’re meant to be, we’ll find a way.   In the meantime, there are a lot of Mr. Right Nows knocking at my dating door.  Guys with planes. 

I’m not very happy with Heidi right now.  Lately, with her, it’s like: bitch gone crazy.  She’s been hanging around this new friend who has completely brainwashed her.  And Heidi, needing to feel a connection with anyone at this point has latched on at the teat.  Man, I am filled with random pleasantries tonight, aren’t I?  Anyway, do you ever meet someone who just completely rubs you the wrong way from the get-go?  This friend of Heidi is sheer evil, I’m telling you.  Heidi has done nothing but slink around and blow me off every weekend since the emergence of this new friend of hers.  I am sad because my would-be best friend has lied to me in order not to hang out so she can spend time with the new girl.  I don’t think she knows I am aware that she’s lied.  But I found out through the grapevine she was out at a restaurant after the bar last weekend after telling me she was cancelling breakfast plans because she wasn’t feeling well.  What kind of friend does that?  I am not going to say or do anything — karma is going to be such a bitch to her. 

Why do I always get the “damaged goods” friends?  It seems like I’m forever having to cut people out of my life and take breathers from them because they either go completely psycho or treat me like dirt or stand me up.  I’d like to think I’m a super friend and I deserve to have the kind of friendship that I myself give.  For all the gifts that I have given, for all the favors I have done, for all the times I was there when the shit went down, I get rewarded like this.  I am not a doormat.  And I’m pissed.

Like I really have time for it all anyway.  My calendar is filling up. 

In other news, I have joined a record number of book groups on my favorite book site (She1fari).  I have been a busy bee networking with authors on MiSpace and I have finally decided on a genre for my writing.  Heretoforth, I will consider myself a niche writer for the upcoming genre that I project will be the next big thing in bookstores:  feminine gothic.  Sort of a combination between chick lit and darkness/horror/gothic suspense, my novels will boast strong female characters who unravel mysteries, suffer due to secret histories and who are no strangers to tragedy.  Selecting a genre was recommended by a writing book I read and having determined that, I also feel more inspired, more inclined to write.  I sense the months ahead being prolific times for me and my novel in progress.

Speaking of my novel in progress, I have decided to share the first few chapters with a small focus group of online friends.  If you are interested in receiving a few chapters of my unedited manuscript and reading over it and sending me some honest, constructive criticism, I am looking for you.  I can’t offer any compensation but I can give you something to new to read by your favorite? future author.  I value opinions like yours!  You are my objective friends, and I’m grateful for you.

I know that having plans to chill around the house on a Friday night might be disappointing for some girls, but I feel amazing tonight with all this free time to do that which I love.  I’ve got the gym, my laptop, a good book, my cuddly poodle and my journal tonight.  So how could I ask for more?  Whatever else unexpected happens tonight?  That is just icing on the cake.