Untitled In My Head

2010-07-13T20:45:00.001-07:00

why doesn't he miss me?

2010-06-29T08:35:00.000-07:00

This past weekend was amazing. Re-Friend and I have found ourselves in a very, very strange place, where we're dating -- no, seriously, that's basically what we're doing -- but not kissing or having sex. But we sleep in the same bed every weekend in our skivvies, spoon all night long, are openly affectionate with each other in public -- which, if you knew RF, is something he doesn't normally do.

And then, on Saturday, we played Rock Band with a small group of friends. I was having to leave early to go to a bachelorette party, but before I left, RF wanted to do one more song. (He was playing lead guitar and I was singing.) So, he picked it:

There's times where I want something more
Someone more like me
There's times when this dress rehearsal
Seems incomplete
But, you see the colors in me like no one else
And behind your dark glasses you're...
You're something else

Chorus:
You're really lovely
Underneath it all
You want to love me
Underneath it all
I'm really lucky
Underneath it all
You're really lovely

You know some real bad tricks
And you need some discipline
But, lately you've been trying real hard
And giving me your best
And, you give me the most gorgeous sleep
That I've ever had
And when it's really bad
I guess it's not that bad

(Repeat Chorus)

So many moons that we have seen
Stumbling back next to me
I've seen right through and underneath
And you make me better
I've seen right through and underneath
And you make me better
Better... better...

[Lady Saw: ]
You are my real Prince Charmin'
Like the heat from the fire
You were always burnin'
And each time you're around
My body keeps stallin'
For your touch
Your kisses and your sweet romancin'
There's an underside to you
That so many adore
Aside from your temper
Everything else secure
You're good for me, baby
Of that, I'm sure
Over and over again
I want more

[Gwen Stefani:]
You've used up all your coupons
And all you've got left is me
And somehow I'm full of forgiveness
I guess it's meant to be

(Repeat Chorus)

You're really lovely
Underneath it all
You want to love me
Underneath it all
I'm really lucky
Underneath it all
And you're really lovely
You're really lovely

I admit, I've never really listened to the lyric on this song before (and, in case you don't know which song this actually is, it's called "Underneath It All," and it's by No Doubt, and Gwen Stefani wrote it for Gavin Rossdale, who later became her husband). So, as I was singing it, I was realizing, "Oh, shit, this is about us!" Which, of course, led to the inner monologue of, "Wait, is he saying he loves me?", which inevitably led to the question, "What does this mean?"

And then...

The past two nights, he's slept over with an ex of his. Par for the course. And I hate myself for getting excited.

*sigh*

I'll never learn.

Fuck'm.

2010-06-02T09:02:00.000-07:00

i've reached a dangerous place with you, my heart. i've become so dependent upon you and your time that my chest tightens when you are away. i wait in my corner of the world, hands clenched to my bosom, every muscle tensed in anticipation of your return. it is sick and ridiculous and i cannot help it. sleep comes not soon enough most evenings, and my rational mind tells me that this is a phase, that it shall pass, and quickly so. but 'til such time as that may be, i cannot think but of you; i cannot breathe but your scent; i cannot speak but your name. and i am lost.

2010-01-04T15:14:00.001-08:00

i recently had a birthday -- o.k., it was about a month ago, but that's still recent, right? at least, it's recent enough to be considered recent...in my opinion...anyway... ;-)

as i was saying, i recently had a birthday, and it was a pretty big one. and as the time continues to fly and roll and push its way forward into Age, i get more and more anxious about figuring out what the fuck i wanna be when i grow up.

o.k., truth? what i really wanna be is a singer. all i wanna do is get on stage, either solo or with a group, and sing the shit out of music that gives me butterflies and laugh in unfettered glee. i wanna go from chorus-pedal heavy guitar-driven music to intimate a cappella with complicated and intricate harmonies and vowel placements.

that's what i want.

but i fear -- all the time! -- that i've waited too long to realistically pursue this path. hm.

maybe "fear" is the problem, in the end. i had a teacher once who said that there's enough room in this world for all artists, that we are not in competition with each other, only with ourselves and our willingness to be who we are (i.e. artists). maybe my problem isn't that i'm too old to be a singer and writer; maybe it's that i'm too chicken-shit to discard all of the accepted reasons to NOT be a singer and writer!

huh.

o.k., let's see what happens if i try it from this new point of view...

2010-01-04T15:13:00.000-08:00

Re-Friend has a date tonight. looks like i'm off the hook! yay!

2010-01-03T22:21:00.000-08:00

i've somehow managed to get into a familiar cycle with Re-Friend. this is exactly what i was afraid of. there's way too much chemistry for us to hang out together so much. time to back down.

2009-12-04T17:22:00.001-08:00

hm. i'm finding myself in an odd position. i mean, not literally, like i'm stuck in a particularly complex yoga posture or anything like that. i mean that, for some odd reason, i'm gettin' all kinds of play from da boyz. i mean, guys i've know for months and years all of a sudden are being uber attentive and solicitous.

don't know how i feel about that.

hm.

*sigh*

enjoy the ride, i guess!

(oh, yeah, by the way, one of them in particular left me a kind of adorable voicemail message, and i keep playing it over and over and over and over and over...you get the idea.)

i'm a dork. i'm titillated. i'm nervous as hell.

2009-10-17T18:35:00.000-07:00

it's been a bad couple of days -- not because anything untoward has happened to me, but because i'm going through one of my keenly lonely phases. i don't know if it's 'cause i've started dating regularly which has only underlined the difficulty of finding someone you really connect with, or if it's because there's something hormonal happening with me (always a possibility when you're a woman); maybe it's 'cause i still don't have a job and am lacking a sense of purpose, a sense of worth.

i'm so fucking lonely. i cry, and i sleep on it, and i'm still lonely. if it's hormones, i can't wait for this to pass.

i think some other contributing factors are the recent conversations i've been having with exes.

my first love, and the only man i ever tho't i would marry: we've been having pretty intimate conversations online -- not sex conversations, but the kinds of things that you talk about with someone you feel connected to. we talk about where we want to live out the ends of our days, what it means to have a family, why it is that being out in the natural world feeds our souls, the hopes we have for the other to be happy and fulfilled, and so on, etc., ad infinitum.

and then there's re-friend. the other night, we hung out for italian food and monday night football. we drank three bottles of wine -- well, he mostly drank; i helped some -- and had a really candid talk about why it was that he was so cruel to me six years ago. he asked me to sing him a lullaby. i did. he cried. i stroked his hair. he asked me to stay the night so we could keep talking in the morning. i told him i couldn't. he said, "you can trust me." i said, "give me time." he fell asleep. i kissed his temple and left.

*sigh*

i don't know; was it simpler at some point, this life thing? i wish i could remember. i wish i could do it that way again, all forward motion and no fear. i have a vague feeling i was once fearless. i wonder what that was like?

peace, babies.

2009-10-10T15:53:00.000-07:00

so, i had my first online "date" blow-off last night. totally took me by surprise and confused me. i tho't we were getting along exceptionally well, and even if there was no in-person chemistry, i was really looking forward to making a good friend.

but, when i tried several times to contact my friend about our plans, when i tried to figure out what time and where we were supposed to meet, i was met with silence.

nothing.

nada.

not even a simple little, "hey, i changed my mind. sorry!" or perhaps even an, "i'm not really interested in meeting in person; can we stay pen pals?" or even a, "your last picture you posted? yeah, i think this is done."

i don't get it. i mean, why is it so hard to just say something? just as a common courtesy. and, y'know, i'm sure i'm overreacting 'cause i'm so disappointed. but, still! can't you just SAY IT ALREADY?!?

man sakes alive!

*grrrrrr*

now i'm crabby. tonight's gonna be a whiskey kind of a night, i can tell. hm, altho' ... i do have SEVERAL bottles of wine that are just sitting there. maybe i'll crack one of those bad boys open.

*sigh*

boo! BOOOO, I SAY!

2009-10-06T11:53:00.001-07:00

so, i know i suck as a blogger, 'cause i really only post when i am in a boy quandary. sorry, kiddies. my bad. and today is not unlike those other days.

here's the thing:

i finally caved into the persistent nagging and hounding of a couple of my friends to try the whole online dating thing. my feeling about online dating has always been:

EEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

and, honestly, now that i'm doing it, i'm not sure my gut reaction was not the more accurate and appropriate one to have.

but, y'know, i'm clearly not meeting the man of my dreams the old fashioned way, even tho' i've met plenty of Good Timers. but the bottom line is that i'm competitive and jealous, and not a little self-important, and i want ALL of my dalliances to be enthralled by me! which, by the way, is (1) completely ridiculous and narcissistic, and (2) completely hypocritical, 'cause i sure as hell am not enthralled by them!

so, to be as fair as i can be when it comes to my lustful wantonness, i decided that, yes, all right, i'll actually date.

hence, the tepid willingness to try online dating.

i've been doing this now for about, eh, let's say a week and a half, maybe two weeks. i've met a few men, but only two have really stuck (read: i've made actual plans to go out with them).

the first one is everything that my dalliances have not been, including age-appropriate. he's actually nearly two years older than me, and lemme tell ya -- it's been a while since i've gone out with someone my own age!

our first date was at a tea house. the conversation was easy, and covered everything from the psychology of stuttering and lisps to favorite childhood memories. he was easy to talk to, was dressed nicely but not metro, was a gentleman (rarity!) and soft-spoken, looked at me when i talked, and actually encouraged me to talk. it was so ... nice. i mean, he's a good looking man; i could definitely see that he'd be a sensual lover. but there was no There there, if you catch my drift.

even so, i tho't that maybe it was just a first-meeting-jitters kind of thing, so we made a second date to go to an outdoor music festival. i figured, if we like the same kind of music, this is something that will be great, right? right??? wrong. turns out, he doesn't really like the kind of music he had intimated he liked. he just liked the one band that was playing the festival who happened to be of the genre of music that he had intimated he liked.

*sigh*

and then, to top it off, i had a sudden realization: in the SEVERAL HOURS that we'd ended up spending together, i had not seen him laugh out loud once. not ONCE! hell, he barely smiled at all! i mean, what's up with that? i'll have you know, i'm a very charming companion, and adorable! surely, you'd smile wide around me! right? right!

SO done.

so, that's one guy down. ready for the next one? here we go:

to start with, the dating site says that we're 94% compatible. that seems crazy-high to me, and is encouraging. second, he likes to drink. BIG plus for me! and he's a coffee addict. even BIGGER plus for me! he's a gamer (c'est moi), literally has the same taste in music as i do (we ran down our pandora radio lists), and is funny as hell. we laugh all the time. i feel sexy as hell with him. so what's the problem? lemme 'splain; there are three:

(1) i've never actually met the guy. we've IM'd a LOT, and texted a lot, and e-mailed a lot, but have yet to actually get together.

(2) he lives about an hour away, and doesn't have a car. yikes. that means i'd have to do all the work. (i mean, he's offered to come up to where i am via bus and train, but c'mon, i'm not that much of a selfish bastard!)

(3) HE'S 17 YEARS YOUNGER THAN ME! i don't know how to feel all right about that one. i mean, honestly, this is the biggest problem i have with the whole sitch.

perhaps the scariest part of all of this, tho', is how much i really, really, REALLY like this boy! i haven't felt this way since ... well, i guess since i was his age. it sucks. it sucks big, hairy monkey balls. or maybe it doesn't? hm.

anyway, we have tentative plans to get together either this saturday or next. i'm sure i'll be letting all y'all know how it goes. dear god, help me!

peace.

2009-08-31T23:36:00.001-07:00

it seems that every single emotion i'm having today runs the risk of The Superlative. i'm the happiest; the most restless; the horniest; the laziest; the most fucking freaked out. i'm not anything in moderation, and everything to the nth degree. it's fucking annoying -- yes, yes, the MOST annoying! (sure, why wouldn't it be?)

and, of course, there's always a boy to add to the mix. this is a new boy, a boy that i know is a tease, but at least he's age appropriate! that's a step in the right direction, right? sadly, while i was trying to be coy with the new, exciting boy, there was another, self-adoring, attention-sucking, buttinski boy who would weasel his way into any conversation i was having with i'm-too-shy boy.

DAMN!

but lovely boy e-mailed me that very same night, mere hours after our confab. he sent me some music that he tho't i'd like (he was correct in his thinking) and said that he was glad that we got to talk more than we usually do -- exclamation point, exclamation point.

and knowing what an overeager idiot i usually am, i chose not to respond 'til the next day -- early afternoonish. i don't know; what's the rule now? i mean, i know there used to be a three-day rule, but i'm getting on in years and don't have much time to waste. besides, at what point is it nobler to just be the freak you are instead of the cool chick you're so obviously not?

so now my point is that it's been a day, and i haven't heard back.

and now, just having typed that, i realize how ridiculous i'm being. o.k., mini-panic attack/sense-of-desperation-'cause-a-good-thing's-slipping-away is over.

oh, and ps: this guy is adorable, but -- as i've already said -- a tease. if i were to get my hopes up, i know that it'd be nothing but mind games and waiting to see who made the next move. UGH! what IS it these days? maybe i could just be the one to say, hey, what are we doing? are we friends? are you gonna ask me out? 'cause i'll say yes!

peace.

2009-06-27T20:38:00.000-07:00

i'm ten shades of anxious right now:

1) i am obsessively listening to a song that i'm co-writing with a friend over and over again, and that i really love, but i want to be able to play it myself and make some changes. i think my voice will sound better on it than hers does, but i don't know how to lovingly tell her that.

2) my father is coming down tomorrow to talk to me about money. when he tried to talk to me on the phone to schedule a time to meet, i began to cry uncontrollably. i don't know if it's because i feel like i'm nine years old again and am in serious trouble, or if it's 'cause i'm so bone-deep embarrassed at my financial state, or if it's 'cause he wants to know my plan and i don't have one.

3) i have run out of money, EDD wants to do another phone interview -- but not 'til july 9th -- and i'm still unemployed with no promising leads. i have no guarantee that EDD will come to a favorable conclusion over the course of our interview re: my unemployment insurance, and if they decide to discontinue payments (which, by the way, i have not received any payments since mid-May), i honestly have no idea what i'm going to do to survive.

4) i'm faced with the very real question of whether or not i can keep up my contractual obligation to pay rent through the end of september (which is when my current lease expires). if i don't get a job or get my EDD unemployment insurance payments reinstated, how am i gonna pay rent, much less utilities, or buy food, or toilet paper?

5) i have a job interview on monday. it's for a part-time job with a really exciting company, but it only pays $15/hour for 20 hours a week. i'm hoping that there's some rule with EDD that this will be just crappy enough of a pay rate that i'll be able to accept the job and not lose my unemployment benefits. but if i DO get the job, what do i do when my unemployment runs out in march of next year? will i have to quit an awesome job to look for full-time employment, or will i be able to morph this job into something more?

6) i'm feeling more alone than i have in a very, very long time. part of this is because it seems as tho' the ghosts of relationships past are coming back to haunt me with a strange insistent ferocity. these men that i once adored and continue to adore want to see me and be around me and talk to me and learn about me, even more so than when we were together, and yet one is married and the other is in a serious relationship. and then, of course, there's a new boy who could be lovely and amazing, but he's a good friend of mine's old obsession; if they never actually dated, would it be breaking the girl code for me to date him?

i need to drink.

2009-04-29T19:36:00.000-07:00

i recently realized that i get turned on by taiko drumming. seriously. as in, full body tingling, blood rushing to my face and clitoris, butterflies in my stomach turned ON.

*sigh*

i have to join a dojo. there's one here where i live that's actually famous. they're pretty hard-core, though, and i'm not sure i'd be up to it. i was watching an interview with the sensei, and he was saying that the students there do 500 push-ups and sit-ups a day.

seriously.

i mean, i'd like to think i'm a woman of great determination who'd do whatever it takes for her art. and taiko -- as with a lot of asian disciplines -- is beyond an art form; it's also a spiritual way of life kind of thing, with a mind/body philosophy tied to the way you perform the music, hold the drumsticks, stand or kneel or lie before your drum.

have i mentioned that this shit turns me on?

*sigh*

yeah, i gotta figure out a way to make this happen.

2009-04-08T15:53:00.000-07:00

so, ex-friend has somehow become re-friend.

i'm not sure exactly how this happened. i think it was probably a combination of wanting to be polite and wanting to have my friend again. that being said, i'm really, really not sure this is a good idea. i mean, we've hung out a total of three times now (once by ourselves), and i gotta say: OUCH! it hurts -- i mean, really hurts, so much so that i am semi-desperately trying to find a way to not see RF anymore.

*sigh*

anyway, i have to run, but i just wanted to state what i, well, stated so i can have some sort of record, some proof of accountability. i'll fill all y'all in later when i know more.

peace.

2009-02-03T14:08:00.000-08:00

i've known my best friend, gina, now for 27 years. she's married to this guy named aaron. one night, they were watching "the fountain," and she saw that the director's name is darren aronofsky. for some reason, that just struck her as completely and totally funny: "aronofsky! aw, who are you, honey? you're my little aronofsky! yes, you are! ar-on-of-SKY!"

you get the picture, right?

and, what makes calling aaron "aronofsky" even more fun is just how much he hates it. i mean HAAAAAAATES it! so, we get a couple of scotches in us, and suddenly we're, like, "hey, remember when you started calling aaron 'aronofsky'? that was funny!"

"aw, aronofsky! who's my aronofsky? YOU are!"

"ar-on-of-SKY! ar-on-of-SKY!"

"hey! only gina can call me that! no one else, damn it!"

*snicker, snicker*

so, sunday night (two nights ago), a couple of us were hanging at gina and aaron's place, sittin' on the balcony, drinking, smoking, listening to awesome music, and i mentioned that darren aronofsky had a new movie out ("the wrestler"), which i felt gina and aaron should see, since it's, y'know, aronofsky.

this led to a general discussion about movies we were excited to see. i mentioned the new star trek flick. aaron tried to make the vulcan salute, but accidentally did the boy scout salute, which turned the conversation to the fact that aaron was an eagle scout.

in a fit of brilliance, our friend, jae, said:

"aronofsky, the eagle vulcan. live long and be prepared."

i just about lost my shit.

peace, babies.

2009-01-25T19:13:00.000-08:00

once again, the saga of EF rears it's at-one-time-hideously-ugly-but-now-just-needs-a-good-pore-refining-treatment head.

as i mentioned in a previous post, i'd gotten word from EF's roommate (and a friend of mine) that EF misses me. i, naturally, pooh-poohed the notion, since i think that, not having seen each other in two and a half years and not having been friends with each other for almost five years probably falls somewhere under the category of Having Moved On And Forgotten All About It.

but then, on friday afternoon, i got this text from EF's cell (names changed to protect the truly innocent):

hey do you wanna play laser tag for my brother's birthday on Sunday? lemme know

um, HUH?

i was confused. i couldn't comprehend that EF had invited me to his kid brother's birthday gig, especially since history told me that these things usually just consisted of the siblings and the parents, and maybe one old family friend. why me? had [jujubees], EF's kid brother, asked if i could be there? if so, how could i find out without sounding paranoid? i mean, if the kid specifically wanted me there, i would maybe go. but if it's just some oddball idea of EF's, well, no thanks!

after some further consideration, i tho't that perhaps it wasn't really EF who had texted the invitation to me, but his sister (using his cell phone, obviously), since she and i have remained good friends all this time, and it's exactly the kind of thing she'd do. so, thinking it was her, i wrote back:

Ur bro [jujubees]? What day?

to which EF rather brusquely -- and rightly so, since (a) he only has one brother and (b) he'd already told me what day -- replied:

sunday

i immediately felt sheepish. my bad.

i also realized, based on the terse answer from EF, that it WAS EF who had contacted me. immediately, warning signals started flashing. i mean, don't get me wrong; [jujubees] is a fantastic kid, and normally i'd love to go and celebrate his birthday and hang out with EF's sister and their dad, who i also really enjoy. but the event itself was too personal, too intimate. i mean, really? really??? who does that? who invites an ex-friend to their little brother's birthday party?

so, i lied. i wrote back:

BUMMER! Alas, this Sunday is spoken for. Thanks for the invite!

*sigh*

i hate lying. HATEHATEHATEHATEHATE IT!

but the Truly Gutless -- c'est moi -- often must lie in order to avoid potentially painful situations.

but wait! there's more!

the next day, i got a missed call from EF. this time, he didn't leave a message, so -- against my better judgment -- i sent him this text:

what's up?

to which he replied:

not much hey are you still blogging

me:

Some, but not much at the [insert name of political blog to which i contribute] lately. Are you thinking of writing?

EF:

just started something if you wanna check it out. [name of EF's new blog]

o.k.

o.k.

weird, right? i mean, SO WEIRD! and now, a day and a half removed from the whole thing, i find that i can't tell if i'm glad, or if i'm dreading any potential fall-out from the whole thing.

ultimately, tho', what i really think is that i'm thinking too much about it. that is to say, now, as i'm writing this post, i'm thinking a lot about it, and my stomach is churning. truthfully, tho', i hardly tho't about it at all today.

huh.

so, then, maybe this is all just a bs post and there's nothing worth mentioning after all. well! who knew?

*sigh*

how old am i? oh, yeah, that's right: TOO FUCKING OLD! ;-)

peace, babies!

2009-01-25T19:09:00.000-08:00

It's strange. Aside from a kinda shitty job where I am made to feel like shit and do shit work for a cheap-ass shit organization that is doing amazing, important, world-changing work, life has been unusually forward-moving lately. I mean, the social life's been crazy-good, the home life is getting good, the family life remains good, and the creative life has been really, really good.

Hm.

Should I be worried?

2008-12-28T15:28:00.000-08:00

I'm procrastinating. I really need to do some housework, and today is day five of a five-day holiday break, courtesy of the partnership at the firm where I work. I even told myself and other people (I find being accountable to other people is one of the more effective ways to make sure I get stuff done) that I'd do cleaning...um, well, that I'd do cleaning yesterday; yesterday was the day I was supposed to clean. Supposed to. As in, didn't do it. And then today, I set my alarm to wake up at such an hour that I could get it done today -- nothing major, just vacuum ONE ROOM and dust ONE WINDOWPANE.

*sigh*

I'm a lazy S.O.B.

Anyway, I'm getting restless to get something creative done. Maybe I'll quickly do that minor cleaning, and then my reward will be to work on a new song. I think that'll work out just fine!

Ooh, one more thing before I go: yesterday I used my Christmas bonus from work and bought myself a battery charger for my digital camera; a new battery for my laptop; a Sony PSP; and a game to go with the Sony PSP. Needless to say, the last two items were completely unnecessary and I'm experiencing buyer's remorse.

Damn.

'K., off to vacuum! Peace, babies.

2008-12-27T22:30:00.000-08:00

My G,

Thank you for the e-mail about the postcard! When I saw that photo, I was immediately filled with the impulse to hop on a plane and jet away, picking you up en route to that little bit of paradise. Can you imagine? We could water ski and snorkel and swim with dolphins during the days, and then at night we could eat the freshest seafood and drink exotic fruity concoctions and make life lists without fear or hesitation 'cause we know, after all of these years, that we can trust each other with our most fervent hopes. And so I bought the postcard and sent it to you, my dear friend, my G-ski.

I don't know if I've told you about this yet, but a beloved friend of mine is dying of cancer. She's been battling it for 8 years (she was diagnosed when she was in her early 20's). It began as ovarian cancer. She went through chemotherapy, went into remission, but had a recurrence. It had mestastasized to her liver. More chemo, then good news, then bad news, then more chemo, then surgery, then good news followed by more good news followed by budding hope. Then things just "didn't feel right," to use her words, and these Not Right feelings were followed by dread and fear and then, finally, doctor appointments, followed by recurrence, only this time the cancer had metastasized to her brain.

The bad thing about the brain when there's cancer in it: you can't use chemo 'cause of the "blood barrier" surrounding the brain itself, so the only treatment options really are either (1) surgery or (2) radiation or (3) a combination of the two. Dannille had two tumors in her brain. One was inoperable, and after 8 years of treatment, two heart attacks, and a recent spate of seizures, her doctors did not recommend surgery; this meant her only remaining option was radiation. So they scheduled her for five treatments; she only could endure three. After the third (or maybe it was the second), she was so sick that she couldn't stop vomiting, which meant that she couldn't lie still for the radiation treatment, and she -- at long last -- decided that it was enough, already. She was done. She was given a year to live, had a conversation with her now 10-year old daughter, and called in all of us, her Army of Women, to help her go through her writings and thoughts and help organize them into a sort of memoir to leave for her family.

So, that's what I've been doing, my friend. I've been reading the stark and honest thoughts and feelings of this beautiful, intelligent, generous woman who is my family and is dying. She reserves the right to change her mind, to resume treatment, but I'm fairly certain this is it for her. It's been a long, hard journey, for her and her daughter, and she's tired. I do everything I can not to argue with her, but at the same time I try to do everything I can to motivate her to keep fighting. It's an odd and precarious balance to maintain all the time, and I often feel unequal to the task. It's a puzzle worth working, though.

Anyway, I wanted to tell you that I love you, I'm proud of you and what you're doing, and I wish you happy and well. Especially over the last couple of years, and even more so in recent months, you have been on my mind and I miss you. It is not looking good for me to come see you for your 40th birthday, but I still have hopes for 2010. In the meantime, peace, my friend.

2008-12-24T21:18:00.000-08:00

it's christmas eve, and i'm in the middle of watching It's A Wonderful Life. it's strange for me, this holiday, made up of such rich and engrained rituals and traditions, because i am essentially alone. both of my roommates are out of town for the holidays (well, technically only one's out of town; the other one moved back home, and her replacement won't be moving in 'til after christmas). all of my friends are visiting family, or are on vacation somewhere exotic, or are housesitting somewhere and their husbands/boyfriends/girlfriends are keeping them company on this eve of christmas.

i sit in my living room and watch jimmy stewart.

i don't feel lonely, exactly. matter of fact, it's been a really nice thing, having my apartment to myself. (makes me realize how desperately i want my own place. someday...right now, i don't want to leave the ocean.) but i do feel like maybe i'm missing out on something. part of me still thinks maybe i'll try to hit midnight mass somewhere, just 'cause then i wouldn't be alone on this holiday. at the same time, i don't want to do it just for the sake of appearances, which is what it would essentially be. i don't have any real desire to leave the house, but i do wish i'd gotten a real tree instead of my ghetto-fabulous fiber optic table-top tree. (i love my table-top tree, but still...)

anyway, i was thinking about my friend, dannille. she's sick. well, that's an understatement, and an absurd one at that. the truth is she's dying. she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer on january 12, 2001; in a few weeks, it'll be the 8-year anniversary of that fateful, horrible day.

(by the way, as i write this, i'm simulateously watching the movie, and had this thought: you see george and mary bailey on their wedding night, having just given away all but $2 of their gift money in order to keep the ol' family s&l alive, and you have to wonder whether any love outside of 1940's hollywood could possibly be that generous or strong. it's nice to think so.)

dannille's cancer metastasized, first to her liver, then to her intestines, then -- and most decisively and inoperably -- to her brain. that's where she's at right now: living with at least two brain tumors, one of which is inoperable. i'll say it again: inoperable. what a bumbling word for such a definitive status. she initially tried to do radiation treatments. (chemotherapy wasn't an option; something about the "blood bag" surrounding the brain which prevents the chemicals from reaching the brain.) she was scheduled for five treatments, but only made it through three, 'cause the treatment made her so violently ill that she couldn't stop vomiting and shaking.

she decided enough was enough.

she ceased treatment.

the doctors said that early tests showed that the treatment she did manage to undergo appeared to have shrunk the tumors, so who knows? in the meantime, she reserves the right to change her mind about ceasing treatment; she may decide eventually to resume. she doesn't want to leave her newly-turned-ten-years-old daughter to the not-so-tender mercies of this world. (i don't blame her.) the strange thing is that for eight of those ten years, her daughter has been living with this vicious cycle of diagnosis/treatment/recovery/re-diagnosis. i wonder: what would it be like for that little girl to have her mother living the kind of life most of us complain about having.

anyway.

i've been going back and reading dannille's blog postings, anonymously, 'cause i'm too cowardly to tell her about this site you're reading right now where i spill my own selfish, self-important nonsense. her writing is so honest, and it's scary to read it all, 'cause she and i are good friends, and have known each other for years, but somehow i have managed to remain ignorant of the entirety of what she's been through.

truthfully, i think she's been trying to protect all of us from the stark reality; i think she doesn't want us to be sad, either for her or ourselves. and i think she doesn't want to come across as weak, or for anyone to feel sorry for her. which makes all of these writings she's been doing all the more remarkable.

anyway, i just lost steam in writing this post. sorry, kiddies. more another time. my brain is much too full.

2008-12-21T21:58:00.000-08:00

I've been having a difficult time getting into the holiday spirit this year. Even now, as I'm listening to holiday music via Comcast's OnDemand "Sounds of the Seasons" radio station, I'm feeling financially desperate and a little hopeless.

Money's tight. Work's a nightmare. Life's lonely and difficult. I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up. It's a strange sort of accounting that I'm taking right now of my world. I generally try to focus on all that is good and hopeful, but then there are times such as tonight where I have lost all sense of direction and feel supremely island-esque.

From what I understand, this is not an unusual sentiment for this time of year, so I experience it all in a well-seasoned fashion: with multiple colors and sizes of grains of salt.

I've been thinking a lot about Ex-Friend lately. I went to this gingerbread house construction party. EF's roommate (and life-long friend) was there and told me that EF had been saying that he misses me. Roommate had said this the last time we hung out, too, and for some reason I just didn't want to let the sentiment slide once again without rebuttal.

Here's sort of how the conversation went:

Roommate: "Yeah, whenever you name comes up, EF always says how much he misses you."

Me: "No, he doesn't."

RM: "Yeah...he does."

Me: "No, I'm sure he misses the friendship we had in the beginning, but not what it became in the end. I mean, he'd told me on more than one occasion that he's not even sure if he likes talking to me or being around me. So he doesn't really miss me."

RM: "All I know is that he says he misses you whenever we talk about you. The rest of it, I don't know, but that's what he says."

Me: [feeling like an asshole for having this conversation at all, much less at a holiday party] "It doesn't matter. It's all right. I'm gonna get another beer; you want one?"

RM: "Uh, no, I'm good."

Me: "O.K."

*sigh*

And, of course, I'm seeing all kinds of signs now, too. For instance, just as I began writing this post tonight, Neil Diamond came on the radio. Why is this significant, you may ask? Simple: Neil Diamond is EF's favorite childhood music artist. As a matter of fact, EF used to sing Neil Diamond songs to me all the time when it was just the two of us. (O.K., not all the time, but at least once, and he often talked about his love of Neil Diamond.)

I need to find a new job. I mean, I have another, say, eight or nine months left in my commitment to where I'm at right now, but I think it's never too late to start looking. I want to be consistently happy in some part of my life. I think work could be the place to start.

[Not to change the subject, or anything...]

I miss G-ski. For all of the moaning and groaning I've done over EF, G-ski was really the one man that I think could have been the great love of my life. (I just like to pine over EF 'cause he's so fucking gorgeous and complicated; it makes me feel superficially smart that I "get" him.)

G-ski lives in Australia -- Perth, to be exact. He's in love with this woman who's a single mother of a sweet and loving daughter, and if I understand G-ski correctly, they actually have been living together for a little while now.

That being said, he's actually "on the road" right now, just him and his BMW motorcycle. He read this book recently that made him take a serious look at what his life had become, and he felt lost (must be a theme). He told me he needed to find his head space, which I completely get. Knowing G-ski, this is not a strange thing at all, to suddenly want to up and leave those you love to go on a cross-country motorcycle trip, with no real idea of when you'll be back or what it is you're trying to find or figure out.

This is why I love him.

G-ski told me once that there was something about me and the way he feels about me that he doesn't quite understand. He said that there are so many things that I do or that I am that in other people just drive him crazy. But there's something about me that makes him not care about those things. He doesn't have to forgive them in me; he simply doesn't notice them.

Isn't that extraordinary?

And the physical chemistry between us is crazy. Although we've never made love or touched inappropriately or even so much as kissed on the lips, we have danced very, very closely, and he would often wrap his hands around my waist, making me feel enclosed and embraced without being trapped. Have you ever felt that way? It's simply delicious; it's subtly erotic and comforting all at once. Amazing.

God, I hope I feel that way with someone else some day.

Oh, and Universe? While I'm at it, could you throw Bryce my way again? And let him be as into me as I am into him? Or make me realize the next time I see him that he isn't so great? That'd be super; thanks!

O.K., late evening rambling completed. Suena con los angelitos, queridos.

2008-12-21T12:40:00.000-08:00

I recently went back and re-read everything I've posted thus far on this blog. I was prompted to do so by the simple occurrence of something that I hadn't planned for: letting someone I know that I was the author of this site.

As clumsily put as that last sentence was -- and I assure you, there are plenty more even clumsier ones to follow -- the bottom line is that I told someone that I know in my "real" life about this blog, and that I was the one who wrote this blog, effectively eliminating any pretense of anonymity that I may have wished to retain. I did this 'cause my friend let me in on her own personal blog, and I figured that fair is fair.

I don't regret the decision, not altogether. I worry now that I won't be as open and honest 'cause someone I know may or may not read what I write here. Do I have to begin to be grammatically correct, or coherent? Must I have a clear train of thought when I write? Do I have to go back and edit and edit and edit?

*sigh*

So, here is my promise: I will do everything in my power to continue to write as though no one in the world knows who I am. I need that for myself, even if no one else is reading this. I have to believe somehow, in a odd and almost morbid fashion, that what I write and share here will move another human being, or at the very least amuse them.

That is my wish.

Anyway, I'm very, very hungry right now, and must eat immediately. More later, I hope.

2008-10-05T22:37:00.001-07:00

It's been so long since I've written anything honest anywhere, much less here on this ... what shall I call this space? It seems to be more important -- to me, my friends, only to me -- than a "blog," yet not vulnerable or risky enough to be a journal. Ah, but it is self-indulgent, nonetheless!

But I digress.

The point is, time has passed. And I have managed to be uncourageous, for the most part.

Recently, I've been getting mixed signals from a man who is fairly new to my life. He's actually not someone that I would normally bother myself with, as he is existing in a world of which I know very little, and for which I have no real affinity. It's a very movers-n-shakers kind of place, altho' he personally came out of the proverbial rat race some time ago. Still, he lives in a world of gourmet this and designer that.

It makes me uncomfortable.

And then there are the moments such as yesterday, where he comes up behind me, slides his arms around my waist, leans into my back, and nuzzles the hollow where my clavicle meets my throat. Feeling him there, wrapped into me so perfectly, I find myself melding to the shape he is holding. And then he speaks clearly, intimately into my left ear: "You knew it was me. You just let it happen. You knew it was me. I love you for that."

And in that moment, I cannot say anything at all, because either it is all a lie, and I will disappoint this man who is experiencing a perfect moment, or it is all true, and I cannot fathom how something so easy and natural could be real.

I am at a loss.

2008-03-09T23:22:00.000-07:00

I'm trying something new. One of these days I'll figure out what I wanna be when I grow up. One of these days I'll figure out that I'm grown up.

2007-11-18T21:49:00.001-08:00

Today's been an interesting day for me.

I went to see my friend perform in a modern opera version of Tartuffe, and it was cool, and all that, but the production kinda sucked ass. And, as is often the case with the collegiate level of performances, the acting of these classically trained vocalists also kinda sucked ass.

I largely blame the director, tho'. Clearly, she was really unsure of how to fill the time in between lyrics in such a cramped performance space, and most of these kids didn't seem to have any sort of method or Eisner training, which led to a lot of cartoonish filling time shenannigans. It was a nice little studio production, but not worth more than the $10 I paid.

Anyway, that wasn't really my point.

My point is that, even tho' my friend had his mom and his aunt and his best friend with her boyfriend -- both of whom used to be his roommates -- and then another friend with his girlfriend all there to cheer him on, my friend really seemed happiest to see me. I mean, really, truly weird! He just hugged me and didn't let go. It was so beautiful and wonderful, to be that appreciated. I mean, sure, I'd given him a really gorgeous card before the performance began and I wrote some pretty moving shit that apparently put him in exactly the right place for his closing performance, but still!

So. That's that. Me tootin' my own horn. [Hey, everybody, I'm someone to be appreciated!]

Blecch. Now I feel like an asshole. Huh. Oh, well! Too bad!

2007-09-03T12:57:00.000-07:00

For you:

2007-08-19T21:09:00.001-07:00

My best friend's getting married. She wants to have a ceremony on the beach, followed by live music by our dj friends and, once it starts to get dark, a bonfire. And so I've begun researching bonfires around here.

Yeah. It's not gonna be easy.

Plus, the electronic music? Apparently we're not supposed to have any amplified sound. But I'm thinking that if we include all of that stuff in our use permit application, we should be covered. At least, that's what I'm hoping.

Anyway, just wanted to let all y'all know. Not that it really matters, but it's a fuckin' cool thing when two people find each other and make that decision to build a life together. Amen.

I'm off to bed now. I thought I had enough energy to actually write something, but it turns out I way over-estimated myself. G'night. Sweet dreams. Or, as my mother used to say to me when I was a kid, suena con los angelitos.

(And now you say, y tu, tambien. Well done!)

Peace.

2007-08-12T20:32:00.000-07:00

So, I survived the night...more or less. The whole thing was really all right for me, in that there was no real awkwardness or ickyness or hostility or anything like that. I laughed a lot, I met some cool people, had yummy drinks, got to celebrate my friend's b-day, and was feeling good about myself in general.

Ladies, you know about this, right? Some days are just Ugly Days, where it doesn't matter in reality whether or not you're looking good; you just feel ugly. And then some days are Hot Days, where you know your mojo is workin' and all the boys flock to you. Right? Right! And yesterday was a Hot Day for me -- thank the gods!

Anyway, the only tough thing about last night is that I did see Ex-Friend. He actually came over to me and hugged me, which I have to admit kinda took me by surprise. I sort of half-rose from my bar booth seat and half-assedly hugged him back, but greeted him with a dazzling smile, trying to convey a sense of, hey, no harm, no foul here! I think it worked.

The hard part, tho', is twofold:

(1) I got a really strong feeling that he wanted to talk to me, that he wanted to be funny with me, to make me laugh, to connect somehow. He kept trying to bring up subjects and debates that, given the others sitting in my bar booth, only really the two of us could engage in (regarding very specific types of music and artists, etc.). But he was so hammered that I think he himself found his efforts to be lacking, and I didn't help matters by allowing myself to be pulled away from his commentary all too easily. It made me feel sort of rude, and in the past I would've tried to find him and give him an opportunity to complete his thought, but I kept reminding myself that this person makes me feel like shit most of the time, so let it go.

(2) Seeing EF made me really, really, really, really miss having him in my life. Last night after I left, and all day today, I've had this ache where I keep trying to devise excuses to text him or e-mail him or even call him, just to try to cling to some small thread of what we once were. He was my best friend. And now, seeing him again, well...I just wish we were good for each other. But, if there's one thing I've learned in my long-but-still-young years, it's that loving someone, be it family, friend, or lover, does not automatically mean you're good for each other. In fact, it's the very people you love the most that can deal you the highest amount of damage. (Just ask any videogame fanatic; they'll tell ya.)

So, I survived, but now I'm sad again, not 'cause I had a bad time, but because I had a good time, and wish I could have it again.

Askin' a lot, eh?

*sigh*

I don't know anymore. When is it the right thing to stick to your guns, and when should you just let go of your Word and give someone another chance? I don't know anymore. (Wait, I already said that. Nevermind.)

2007-08-11T08:51:00.000-07:00

Well, today's the day. It's funny, 'cause I'm not really nervous anymore. I'm going to have a good time in the park this afternoon with a bunch of people that I really like, then I'm gonna go and meet up with a lot of people that I don't know anymore, including Ex-Friend, but it's gonna be O.K. Everything else in this life is so good that an hour or two of discomfort cannot keep me from being happy. What a thing, eh?

2007-07-22T20:07:00.000-07:00

I've been freaking out lately. My friend is having a birthday party in three weeks, and Ex-Friend (EF) is going to be there. I don't care so much about seeing EF; it's mostly that I wish I were looking better, that I hadn't gained so much weight over the last two years, and that I wish I had a hot boyfriend to drag along to this party as a sort of status symbol -- y'know, so that all of the people that used to comprise my Circle of Friends but that essentially dropped me when EF and I ceased communication will know that I don't need them ANYWAY!

*sigh*

I wish I were more grown-up, or at the very least more mature. Turns out I'm neither.

I also wish I didn't have to go to this party, but it's kind of required, from a personal ethics kind of place. Y'see, my friend who's throwing the party recently almost died while in the hospital, and she's got this renewed sense of living and celebrating life. How could I possibly turn away from her? Being an insecure idiot is not a good enough reason.

2007-06-22T12:47:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a Day -- capital "D"! It was one of those days when every single customer was just a little too whiny and implacable, where every copy you try to make gets a paper jam, where every step you take in your cute platform loafers feels like you're about to fall on your ass.

Yeah. One of those Days.

So, when I went to Target after work to buy toothpaste and window cleaner, and some guy tried to steal my parking space, I turned into one of those confrontational, insistent types.

Here's how it happened:

I pulled into the South Marketplace Shopping Center. I drove to the row right in front of the Target, and while I was coming around the corner, I noticed a guy loading stuff into the back seat of his car. Perfect, I tho't, finally a break on this hellacious day! The spot was only, like, five spaces away from the front door, and since my feet were not cooperating that day, I figured it'd be best to not have to walk very far.

Plus, I was tired and already cranky from my Day.

So, I stopped and turned on my blinker, indicating that I was waiting for this guy to leave so I could take his spot. And, as is the natural way of things, he left, and just as I began to move forward to turn into the space, this car zooms out from behind me, swings around my car, and pulls into the space.

WHAT????

I began to honk like a mad woman, as though I was having a diabetic fit and the horn was a needle full of insulin.

The guy decided to ignore me, probably figuring that, in such a polite little country town, the Crazy Lady will be too embarrassed to press the issue.

He had no idea.

I put my car in "Park," removed my key from the ignition, and jumped -- yes, literally jumped! -- out of my car, yelling, "Excuse me! Ex-cuse me! That's my space!"

The man stared at me in dumb silence.

"I had my blinker on. I was waiting for that guy to leave. That's my space."

More stunned silence.

Then, finally he said:

"Look, you were only there a minute. I've been looking for a spot for a lot longer than that."

To which I replied, "Well, I'm sorry you left to try to find a better spot, but that one's mine. Thank you! That's my space."

One more round of stunned silence.

So I said, in a slightly higher-pitched and more desperate tone, "I'm gonna have to insist. Thank you. That's my spot. I don't care. Thank you."

Yeah.

He got in his car and left...to park in the spot that, in the course of our little encounter, had opened up two spots down. Now, I know some of you may be thinking that I probably should have let it go and taken the other spot. To this I answer:

HELL NO!

The whole point is that I had my blinker on, and I had been waiting for that particular spot. He needed to be taught some manners, and I was just the Crazy Lady to oblige.

ROAR!!!!

2007-05-23T11:42:00.001-07:00

Y'wanna know why Friendster sucks? Because they don't have a customer service e-mail address. Oh, no, that'd be too much work for them! Instead you have to sift through their 13 pages of FAQs and hope that one of them addresses your issue -- which, by the way, has never been the case for me!

I hate Friendster!

So, here's the scoop:

When I used to have a Friendster account, I also had a blog, and since I wanted to be able to format my blog and do some reasonably cool stuff, I had a blog for which I paid $8.95/mo. When I followed the online process to cancel my account, I tho't that would also cancel my blog.

I tho't wrongly.

Turns out the blog aspect of the whole Friendster thing is actually run by a company called Six Apart Ltd. (SAL). For some reason, you have to contact them separately to cancel your blog.

I wrote to Friendster's suggestions e-mail address ('cause, as I already said, they don't have a customer service one) saying they should probably let customers know this at some point during the whole canceling-the-account process. Friendster's suggestions team wrote back saying, yeah, y'know what, you're right! We probably should! Weird that we don't. Huh. Head-scratcher, that!

So I went to SAL's site to ask them to stop charging me for my Friendster blog, as the account had been canceled.

A couple of months went by, and I saw that I was still being charged $8.95 every month by SAL. I finally had enough and contacted my bank to dispute the most current charge and any future charges. As a result, my debit card has been canceled and my bank is issuing me a new one, which means that, for the time being, I HAVE to either write checks or carry cash; otherwise I can't buy anything.

Convenient, no?

HELL NO!

And to top it all off, SAL is insisting that the account still exists, and therefore the blog still exists. I went around and around with them, saying, look, if you Google my site, it comes up with a, "No, it ain't there!" screen. IT DOES NOT EXIST!

SAL responded, well, sure, the blog itself doesn't exist, but the corresponding photo pages still exist, so we therefore get to keep charging you. If you want us to stop, you have to go back and cancel your Friendster account using their online process.

Anyone else beating their head against the wall yet? Damn!

So I went back and contacted Friendster -- which, if you'll recall, does not have a customer service e-mail address; I keep having to contact them through their suggestions e-mail address -- and explained the issue. I got a formulaic response saying that the suggestions department doesn't handle these kinds of questions, and I needed to go back and contact customer service.

And, yes, say it with me now, there is no customer service e-mail address to contact!!!

*sigh*

I seriously could cry.

2007-05-10T13:25:00.000-07:00

Ex-Friend texted me last night.

...

AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

...

I'm having a little freak-out over it.

So, here's what happened.

About two or three or four months ago -- I don't remember how long; I'm horrible with sensing the passage of time -- I got a friend request on MySpace from Danny Kaye. Of course, it wasn't the actual Danny Kaye, but still, I LOVE Danny Kaye! And so I went to check out the profile for this Danny Kaye.

On the MySpace profile, there was a video of Danny Kaye and Harry Belafonte doing a little ditty on The Danny Kaye Show. It made me laugh out loud, it was so campy and playful! It just made me happy to watch it, and I had an undeniable urge to share the joy with someone.

Enter EF.

Danny Kaye is EF's favorite, from childhood. EF LOVES Danny Kaye, and introduced me to a lot of Danny Kaye stuff that I never even knew existed. It was one of the many things that the two of us shared between just us. It was loving and special, like we were part of some secret club that no one else really got.

So, it was completely natural, if a little unfortunate, that the person with whom I wanted to share the Danny Kaye video most in the world was EF.

And then, I thought about it some more, and realized, hey, what's the big deal? So you send EF a video! That doesn't mean that you have to be friends with EF! It's totally safe; there's no way EF will ever try to talk to you again, anyway. And if you use your new e-mail address, who knows? Maybe the video link will get put in EF's junk mail box instead of the inbox, and EF will never, ever, ever know you sent the dadgum thing in the first place! This is totally fine!

I sent the video to EF.

I believe my e-mail said something to the effect of, "I saw this and it made me laugh, and I just had to share it with someone. Naturally, you came to mind, and I figured, eh, what the hell."

Months passed. And then I got this text last night:

"thanks for the danny kaye video. i hope you've been well you have been in my thoughts."

My immediate reaction:

RUN FOR THE HILLS!

My actual, carefully crafted response:

"Glad u enjoyed it kid. Hope ur good too."

Calm and cool, right? Right! In my text message. I'm calm and cool. Right.

God help me.

2007-04-26T08:03:00.000-07:00

This morning I had a dream about Ex-Friend. We were in some sort of cafeteria-style restaurant/open market place getting lunch together and we were in line for the cash register.

Throughout the dream EF had been standing behind me, and every once in a while he'd accidentally -- and I really mean accidentally, not one of those oops! did I do that? kind of accidentallys -- brush the back of my knee as we were walking around. But somehow, when we got in line to pay for our food, he'd gotten in front of me, and it was me who accidentally brushed the back of his knee with my bag (or something; I don't remember exactly what).

The worst part? I could smell him. When he was standing in front of me, I could breathe him in. The scent was so real and so familiar. And although I was nowhere near ready to wake up (as far as how many hours of sleep a girl of a certain age may require on any given night), in my dream I was aware enough of how dangerous it could be to become comfortable and familiar again with EF that I literally dragged myself out of my dream to wakefulness -- almost an hour before my alarm was set to go off!

O.K., so, damn for that! And double-damn for the fact that I had this dream in the first place! And triple damn that I couldn't shake the dream afterwards and so lay in bed panicked for the next forty two minutes!

I blame this week's episode of Gilmore girls. It set me up to have this dream. (If you watch the show, you'll know what I'm talking about. And just in case you taped the show and haven't watched it yet, I'm not gonna explain further here.)

2007-04-12T12:05:00.000-07:00

I've been smoking lately...a lot...DAMN.

See, here's the thing: My current roommate has a boyfriend who lives in this lovely little coastal town in California. My roommate is a smoker. Her boyfriend is a smoker. And while I'm in total denial as to whether I'm a smoker or not, generally I only smoke when I'm hanging out with them, which is about once a week.

For instance, this past week I didn't have a single, solitary puff of anything remotely cigarette-esque. I'm sure I was exposed to myriad other carcinogens 'cause, well, hey, let's face it, everything causes cancer these days. Even so, I go down on Saturday night to Roommate's Boyfriend's house, and on my way feel obligated to buy two packs of cigarettes. Two! Two, I tell ya!

Why two, you may ask? Because, silly rabbit! For those of us who are "social smokers," half the fun is trying out different kinds of flavored cigarettes, even though they're generally stronger, and the next morning you feel like you've been living in a coal mine for the past twenty years. (Not that I would have any idea what that would actually feel like, but I have a fairly vivid imagination.) So I had to buy the cherry flavored pack -- which, by the way, are totally YUM! -- and then I had to get the Export A Extra Lights for my cool, unflavored pack.

And guess what? Between the three of us, we managed to polish off the entire pack of cherry cigarettes, and I smoked half a pack of my Extra Lights on top of that! DAMN!

And, yes, this morning I woke up feeling like I'd spent the last twenty years living in a coal mine. I even noticed that I was wheezing a bit all day today. There's this little whistle thing that's really fucking annoying and makes me feel like I'm the sad, sick character on a bad reality TV show that everyone's supposed to start out making fun of but later rediscovers their own humanity through witnessing my own personal, tortured journey.

And did I mention DAMN? I mean, seriously, DAMN! That's a lot of fucking smoking in about a seven and a half hour period!

*sigh*

I have to quit giving into peer pressure.

2007-04-03T13:24:00.000-07:00

I'm so f**kin' restless. I can't take it. I don't know if it's the full moon or what, but I just...must...do...something...

*sigh*

Alas, I am an 8-to-5-er peon. Back to entering meaningless data into a spreadsheet.

Crap.

2007-03-28T09:08:00.000-07:00

I had the most delicious dream this morning about a friend of mine that I never, ever, EVER, in a million years would consider hooking up with. But, I gotta tell ya, this dream was just what the proverbial doctor ordered!

Let me be very clear, here: It was not dirty, or sleazy, or even particularly suggestive. So, then, what was it, you might ask?

Well, let me tell ya.

It was comforting and loving and endearing -- all of those things that a single girl misses when she has nary a semblance of a relationship in the works, and all of the things that a sorta single girl hunts and digs for in her existing relationship but can't seem to find, not to mention all of the things that a definitely not single girl means when she says something is missing from her relationship (unless, of course, she unwittingly is dating a gay man; then that something missing might just simply be sex).

The best part of the dream wasn't that we made out or anything, 'cause we didn't. It was simply this:

I walked up to him to put my hand through his arm and rest my head on his shoulder while we were waiting for these movers (don't ask; would require a much more detailed explanation of the dream, and isn't really the point here) to finish what they were doing. And when I'd been standing that way for a while and started to pull away to go pick out a DVD to watch (again, not explaining the DVD side story at this stage), he ever-so-slightly tightened his arm, keeping me with him, making me feel safe and embraced and loved.

Fellas, truly, it's the simplest things...

2007-03-24T13:46:00.000-07:00

you're leaving
i know you are
you don’t even have to say it
you could even not know it yet
but you’re leaving, i swear
you can lay along the couch
speaking nonsense about nothing
i'll sit across from you
gently smiling
genuinely interested
but constantly distracted
waiting for you to leave

you’re going
you’re already out the door
i have the feeling
i'll not be seeing you anymore
you may not realize it yet
but you’re going, i swear
you can speak reassuring words
talk on and on about importance
i'll listen and wish to believe you
all the while resigned
to an empty night

i don’t know how to be
i've gotten so used to you
foolish me, letting my fingers
reach out to dip into our smile
what was i thinking
i should have remembered
that, eventually, you’d away

you’re done
though i can see you
you’re no longer here
you still don’t know it
i cannot be for you
dearest
you don’t see or hear me
never thought i'd be weak like this
never thought i'd hold on so tight
while pushing into that cold room where i stay locked away

2007-03-11T22:29:00.000-07:00

I've been thwarted!

I'll admit it: I love chick lit. Bridget Jones's multiple diaries were like a balm to me. So when I found the blog "The Company Bitch," I was in girl-drama heaven! The writing was funny and witty, and after having read her for so long, I felt like I knew the characters/people that she wrote about.

Today, tho', I went to catch up with the CB, and she has apparently set her blog so that only invited readers can read her blog.

What????

Doesn't that kind of defeat the purpose of writing a blog? I mean, don't most of us do this 'cause we want to share our thoughts with other people?

I gotta say, I know I need to get a grip, but I'm feeling kinda betrayed, here! Damn!

O.K., kiddies, it's bed time for Gonzo. Sweet dreams!

2007-03-03T23:49:00.000-08:00

I'm so tired.

I was watching a 1996 George Carlin special on HBO with a couple of friends, kickin' back in this not-so-comfortable recliner, and I couldn't help but start to fall asleep. I fought it and fought it, trying to be especially conscientious of any potential snoring-esque emittances, but at long last I succumbed to the reality of the situation. I rather abruptly stood up and announced, "I'm leaving."

I think I surprised my friends.

Of course, now, having driven home, I'm ever-so-slightly more alert, but still completely exhausted, yet too awake now to actually sleep. Damn.

Y'know what? I'm gonna try anyway -- damn the consequences!

2007-02-19T22:24:00.000-08:00

My family's a bit fucked up, to tell you the truth. Both of my parents (legal parents; my mom is not my birth mother; another story for another night) are in their fourth marriages, and there are six of us kids, ranging in age from 4 to 36, and none of us have the same two parents. Plus, I've not been speaking to my mom for about five years now, so I haven't even met my youngest sibling yet.

As I was saying, my family's a bit fucked up.

But the worst of us is undoubtedly the oldest boy, S. He was an angel of a child, so sweet and loving, but when he hit puberty (this is my personal theory, anyway) his genetically inherited psychoses from his mother began to kick in.

Long story short, he got involved in gangs and drugs, spent ages 16 through 21 in the California Youth Authority -- which, anyone who's societally aware will tell you, is enough to permanently damage any human being and turn them into a bit of a sociopath -- and is now a father with a girl that he doesn't love and has no intention of marrying.

Oh, and by the way, he's a "recovering" heroin addict and an alcoholic, as well as a two-pack-a-day smoker. He's a mess.

Anyway, I just have come to the point where I don't know how to help him survive. He's been diagnosed recently as both bipolar and paranoid schizophrenic, but he refuses to take any kind of meds for either condition because he says they make him feel like he isn't real.

In the meantime, he goes into fits of rage where he destroys furniture and smashes out storefront windows and punches holes in walls. He got arrested again recently, but is such a charismatic guy -- despite his purposefully outlaw look -- that the judge let him out on bail without bond (from what I understand).

Oh, and in case you hadn't guessed already, he can't hold a job. Actually, it's not that he's incapable of holding a job. He just stops going after the first week or two.

As I said, my family's a bit fucked up.

2007-02-14T22:40:00.000-08:00

Today is EF's birthday. I think EF's 27 years old now. I really miss them.

I actually began text messaging EF to wish them happy birthday, but fortunately kept myself from doing so. What's that rather famous adage? Something like, "Principles only mean something if you stick by them when it's hard."

God, but I miss EF. I wonder what they're doing right now... I wonder if their day was a good one... I wonder if EF took the day off and did things that makes them joyful.

I hope so.

2007-02-12T21:55:00.000-08:00

I had this thought just now, as I was trolling through all of these new blogs, trying in my quiet desperation to find one that will be entertaining to me, that will read like a chick-lit novel so that I can take a break from my self-imposed daily torture test of reading a gazillion progressive and green blogs:

Doesn't anyone have any frivolous thoughts anymore?

I know I do. I just think they're too frivolous to put down on paper -- or, rather, to type into my laptop and post to my blog.

That being said, I want to talk for a moment about "Lost."

Please, please, please, can we get back to Jack a bit? Or what about that hot British/Aussie/whatever-the-hell-he-is guy who appears to be some sort of pre-cog? Oh, man, he's pretty fuckin' yummy, if you ask me.

And why can't a romantic comedy get an Oscar? Huh? What's the deal there? Are only sweeping epics or tortured tales of loss and grief worthy of an award? Why don't we have an awards show like the Billboard Music Awards which rewards the biggest box office makers? Isn't the amount of ticket sales indicative of what The People, in their almighty wisdom, want?

So, my brother was in jail again recently. He's got this nasty history, going back to when he was just a teenage kid (I think he was arrested for the first time when he was fourteen years old; can you imagine?). I didn't visit him. I thought about visiting him, and then decided not to. I just didn't want to try to be encouraging, I guess, although that's not entirely true, either. I just didn't have the energy to be encouraging just then. I thought I'd give it a couple of days and see how I felt.

And then today I found out that my little sister didn't know that our mom had been married before she was married to my dad, or that my dad and I lived in our house (where our mom now lives with her new husband, my sister, and my brother that I've never met 'cause my mom and I haven't spoken to each other in -- dang, five years? can that be right?) before our mom was even married to our dad.

And what's more, my dad doesn't think that my sister knows that our mom was actually married two times before my dad. Yep, that's right, my mom's on husband number four, but my dad's on wife number four, and I haven't been in a relationship since 1995, so who are any of us to throw stones in these glass houses of ours?

Oh, and by the way, my stepfather's sister -- so, that'd make her my aunt, I guess -- apparently told my sister that she thinks she's anorexic.

Really? This is my family? Wow.

And, just for the record, my sister eats PLENTY! And as far as I can tell, she doesn't throw it all up later -- or, if she tries to, it's way too late after eating, and it's all been digested already.

Who are these people that call themselves our family? Seriously.

2007-02-12T16:40:00.000-08:00

I had to delete my old blog, 'cause my anonymity had been compromised. I feel much better now, beginning from scratch. So let me start with this pathetic story:

I'm an addict. I'm addicted to checking up on people who won't talk to me anymore that used to be my close friends. Fortunately for me, MySpace makes this relatively easy, as my most recent obsession (I call them Ex-Friend, or EF for short) is a member, albeit not a very active one.

EF and I used to be inseparable. (Is that how you spell that word? I have no idea.) And then EF moved to a new town, found a new friend who was similar to me in a lot of ways, and basically began treating me like an unwanted stray dog. So I cut EF out of my life (in a very kind way, if you want my and my best friend, G's, opinion).

Having said that, I still miss the little shit, and so every once in a while will go onto EF's MySpace profile page to see if there's anything new. Now, keep in mind, EF doesn't actually write anything on their profile page; most of my info comes from comments other members have posted to EF's profile, or by going to EF's band's site, which often has info on their upcoming performances, and their friends will sometimes post pics of their gigs, so I can "see" EF, too.

I've officially gone off the Sanity Pier.

Anyway, apparently EF has moved, altho' I don't know when or to where or with whom. And EF looks good -- really good. Damn.

And while it's what I promised myself I needed, it's hard to realize that this friend is actually gone for good. Sucks ass, if the truth be told. Damn...again...

Anyway, that's that. Done for now. And welcome to my new blog!