Guilt Feelings

There's a girl (woman) who works where I work. When I worked in the Cabinet Shop, all the guys would look at ther. drool over her. I was jealous. She was so little and cute, and her long hair was so pretty. I wasn't mean jealous, just envious of the attention she got from them, and mostly the attention she got from S, who I was simply mad over.
I have only spoken to her a couple of times, but she is just the nicest person.
then she got sick. and it turned out to be cancer. and she lost (actually she shaved it before she lost it) all that lovely hair.
She's all better now, and she's got this cute cap of curls. but I will always feel a little badly for being jealous. she can't help it that she's pretty.

Something we agree on

If there is one thing we definately agree on, (T and I) it's this:

Bugs bunny in drag is HOT

Dear Peaches, whoever you are,

please put some pants on over your silver lame underwear. there is a big difference between "rock n roll mama" and "rock n roll hot mamma". According to your MSN bio, you are quite the temtress. but this picture does not support this claim.

I spent yesterday in my mom's pool floating on this. It's the best floatie ever.

Underachiever

Once upon a time, I was going through a box in the garage. I must have been in 8th or 9th grade. I the box I found a test. it was labeled "is your child an underachiever?" from the date on the test, I knew that it had been ordered when I was in 4th or 5th grade. I also knew that it wasn't for my older sister, who got pretty much strait A's, or for my younger siblings who were too young to be underachievers.
I had a lot of problems back then. My mom ws too busy having babies and taking care of them to pay attention to me, my step dad wasn't particularly nice. I estimate that this was the period of time when I really started raising myself because I didn't have very much positive adult supervision. Don't get me wrong, I had the basic nessecities, but really no one paid attention to what I did unless it was something bad, and no one kept up on whether I did my homework, or took a shower (that's a story for another day)ate breakfast or lunch, or any of the other things that children have to be reminded to do because really, they're lazy and need to be reminded. It got to the point in school where my teacher and my parents were in fairly constant contact and I was in trouble all the time. but instead of setting up a system to make sure I kept up, I would be spanked and lectured, put on restriction and sent on my way. At least, that's how I remember it. I was a C/D student until we fled. mostly because I was always able to bring the grades up enough to pass so I didn't REALLY get my butt kicked. My teacher wanted to hold me back in the 5th grade, but I chose to move on.
The sad thing about finding that test, is that it never occurred to my parents (it does to my mom now) that there were deeper problems than me being an underachiever. I'm sure you can guess that I am not. I wasn't an underacheiver, I was a non achiever. What's the point in trying when no one notices? I knew I would be in trouble for something anyway and I also knew that no one was really paying attention to what I did. I didn't matter. Finding that test really drove the point home. That I was expected to be responsible for myself, but the adults in my world did not feel responsible for me. They were hoping my problems were biological, not psychological. The test made me angry. which in hindsight was good. because when I was able to start over, I knew what kind of achiever I wanted to be. I never did get strait A's. and that's ok with me. but I was an A/B student and have accomplished a lot since high school.
Underachiever my ass!

whew!

Thanks to Jen, I learned that I am normal.

Joe Normal 47 % Nerd, 30% Geek, 39% Dork

For The Record: A Nerd is someone who is passionate about learning/being smart/academia. A Geek is someone who is passionate about some particular area or subject, often an obscure or difficult one. A Dork is someone who has difficulty with common social expectations/interactions. You scored less than half in all three, earning you the title of: Joe Normal. This is not to say that you don't have some Nerd, Geek or Dork inside of you--we all do, and you can see the percentages you have right above. This is just to say that none of those qualities stand out so much as to define you. Sure, you enjoy an episode of Star Trek now and again, and yeah, you kinda enjoyed a few classes back in the day. And, once in a while, you stumble while walking down the street even though there was nothing there to cause you to trip. But, for the most part, you look and act fairly typically, and aren't much of an outcast. I'd say there's a fair chance someone asked you to take this test. In any event, fairly normal. Congratulations! If you enjoyed this test, I would love the feedback! Also, you might want to check out some of my other tests if you're interested in either of the following: Buffy the Vampire Slayer Professional Wrestling Love & Sexuality Thanks Again! -- THE NERD? GEEK? OR DORK? TEST

My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 22% on nerdiness You scored higher than 39% on geekosity You scored higher than 69% on dork points

Link: The Nerd? Geek? or Dork? Test written by donathos on Ok Cupid

Take THAT geek friends! (actually, I love my geek friends)
More updates later.

Dear Well Meaning Friends,

Work:
I don't bring up my love life lately because it is screwy. I know it is screwy. I haven't come up with a solution, and it bothers me. So When you ask me about it, and hear that it's screwy and hear me say I am working things out with myself, please don't remind me that there are plenty of fish in the sea and that I am such a wonderful person and I deserve better. I know that. but my heart doesn't. since both of you have been married and divorced several times, I know you know how much these things hurt. Please stop picking at my scapbs, I pick at them enough.

Old Friends:
If half the track team in High School thought I was cute, why in the world did you not intorduce me? i am flattered to hear that I was your second choice in girls to date if you and my best friend had broken up (don't get mad at him, readers, I am flattered to have been on the list)(I wouldn't have dated him, that would have been wrong, but he doesn't need to know that). But you see, one of the reasons High School was such an agony is that I was lonely. and because the boys didn't like me. Based on what I know now, they likely wouldn't have liked me if they knew me, but it would have been nice to know they at least thought I was cute. it's an ego thing.

Thank you.

apparently

I have 50 gmail invites. wow. I don't think I know 50 people. anyone want?

Discovery

the panda cam. cute. I did not see the pandas when I was at the zoo on Friday.
http://www.sandiegozoo.org/zoo/ex_panda_station.html

I was all wound up about something again, but I have now forgotten what it was.

HEY!

Dear coworkers, visitors, and everyone else,

every day you ask me. every day my answer is the same. No, I don't know where Grace is. I can't even see her from here. She doesn't answer to me, doesn't check in with me, and she likely doesn't have her pocket phone. Can you see me from the door? No. You cannot see me from the door. What makes you think that I can see Grace through oak bookcases, and a wall? I'm lucky if I can hear her. If I had xray vision, I wouldn't be working in Document Control. If I was a highly developed psychic, I would not be working in Document Control. But I am not those things, so I work in Document Control. I like it here in my little corner. No one can see what I am doing. Which means I don't know what anyone else is doing either. Do I know where Grace is? NO! Do I care? Not really. now go away. I need to blog about you.


Dear Coworkers, Visitors, and everyone else,

Every day you ask Theresa. Every Day the answer is the same. Yes. I am at my desk. I'm not going to look even if I hear you talking about me because I don't really care. If you want me to poke my head up like a prairie dog, then start talking about something interesting. If you want to make sure I am at my desk when you need me (and I am ALWAYS at my desk unless I am peeing or eating)then call me before you come over. If I am peeing, I won't answer. If I am eating, I will shove my food into my cheeks and try to pretend I am not answering with a mouthfull of food. If I sound funny, then yes, I am at lunch. Don't ask me for anything, I won't remember about it between the lunch room and my desk. I am busy thinking up new and interesting things to post on my blog. So quit coming over and asking Theresa if I am here. call me and ask yourself. She's got better things to do.

too much information

the hair on my knee is long enough to grab. guess I should make sure I shave there tonight.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

That's all. just needed to scream. again.

i FORGOT!!

To take Caps Lock off...

and to tell you that I got my resale permit the other day which offically makes Bubbly Creations legal and tax paying and ifn you want a catalog, email me and I'll send you one as soon as I am finished monkeying around with it. I currently have 4 types of handmade soap available as well as a multitude of yummy scented soaps and salts and body powders and anything else I can come up with.

I'm very excited about all of it.

A thought that occurred to me this weekend

If your brother was a supervillian (no, mine isn't. What's he going to do, goofball you to death???) How would to introduce him at parties? Would you want the noteriety of having a supervillian for a brother, or would you use his regular identity and pray he didn't decide to take over the world while you nibbled appetizers and drank booze? wouldn't you be terribly embarassed if a superhero came flying into your party for an all out fight? would you cheer for the supervillian or your brother? I mean, he is yor brother and you are supposed to love and support your family, right?

I guess you can look at it this way, in a more serious note, and I would love to hear some feedback on this, if you knew your family member had killed someone, would you turn them in??

And now, back to my regularly scheduled cinnimon roll.

I'M BACK! again

We had no internet yesterday. I had no idea how much time I spent on the internet until I had to find something else to occupy my time all day. yuck!

I know I had interesting insights to share, but I have forgotten what they were.

Keepin it real

So, I know I said I wasn't going to discuss this, but I have a bit of a rant about it.

After the usual discussions today with T (yes, they continue, and no, I sitll don't know what the answer is) mostly involving chocolate, he signed off early with "Keep it Real"

Keep it Real? WTF? SO...

Dear T,

Um, Hi. I know we have this strange thing going on between us, and I am not going to pretend to have a clue what it means. However I do know this. I am not your homie. (I'm not anyone's homie) I'm not sure what you want me to keep real, but you and I both know that the PDC's are real, so if that's what you are talking about, well, I certainly wasn't planning to get implants anytime ever. I also know that you are paler than me. Therefore I'm not sure you should be telling anyone to keep anything real. Maybe I am wrong and this is not an ethic thing. but I see it kind of like the following; an inlander (like me) telling someone to hang loose. (WTF?)
"Have a good weekend" sure. "have naughty thoughts about me" highly likely. "keep it real" uh, um, ok...what?


I am hoping all of these thoughts were summed up in the phrase "Did you just tell me to Keep it Real???"

peace out my bruthuhs. (and, uh, sistahs. yeah)

It made me cry

I accidentally referred to something "Making Joyce nuts crazy". it wasn't until my boss repeated it to me that I realized what I said. Poor Joyce. I don't even think she has nuts.

Cookie Cutters. Defined

I realized during my last post that the term Cookie Cutter Girl is one that my freidns and I coined during a trip to the same club described in my last post, but on a different occation. Below is a definition of Cookie Cutter Girl

Cookie Cutter Girl (koo-kee cut-ter gurl) A flock animal between the ages of 21 and 24. (it is possible to find younger (or older, I'm sure) cookie cutters, however research has shown that they congragate around night clubs) often found with drink in hand. They can be identified easily by thier snobbish "I'm the prettiest girl here" attitude and obvious resemblance to every other cookie cutter in the club. At last sighting, cookie cutters wore short, white skirts and tank/tube tops that were ill fitting for thier body type. Cookie cutters are often unaware that thier clothes don't fit and parade around together looking for men, staring distainfully at non cookie cutters (who might be looking for men, but likely aren't finding any that are interested under the age of 40)despite the fact that thier cellulite is showing and thier beer belly fat is bulging (cellulite I can understand. Beer bellies I can't)When confronted by a cookie cutter, it is best to roll your eyes and walk away. actual confrontation is unlikely, as she will not want to break a nail or risk her hair do, which, at last sighting, is casually down but far too well maintained to show any signs of dancing or other physical exertion.


hope that helped

My Hair is a weapon

They were talking about rude concert goers this morning on my favorite radio show, and it reminded me of the last time I went to a club.

I was out with work people, including J, (who had recently told me he didn't think we should be involved physically until we got to know each other better, yet he had no issue with grabbing my ass all evening) we had headed to a popular club near the beach and had found a small spot where the 5(ish) of us could squeeze together and enjoy our drinks and dance a little.

Along came a group of cookie cutter girls who wanted to be where we were (who wouldn't?). The crowded into us and made it very uncomfortable for us to continue to be where we were. Since we were not on the dance floor, there was really no reason for them to be that close. We tried pushing and shoving about (we were at this point quite trapped against a railing overlooking the dance floor)but they still didn't get the hint. We girls started plotting, but nothing, short of kicking thier asses seemed likely to get rid of them.

I then had a bright idea. (I get them about once a week)

Now when I go out, I usually put up my long hair because it just gets hot when it is down and I am trying to dance. And I don't like it when my hair gets all sweaty and sticky. But this was a call to action. Down came my hair in a tumbling mass of long blondness. I started dancing, having warned my friends to look out. swinging about to make any stripper proud, my hair turned into a weapon which sent the cookie cutters running. I'm sure a few of them got a face full. They moved on to a less hairy area, and we were able to continue to enjoy our spot. (and J was able to continue his unashamed butt grabbing. I remember thinking at the time that he didn't make any sense, but it was another month or so before I gave up on him completely, and thank goodness for that!)

seems perhaps I have superhero talents after all, with my vice grip thighs (another story) and my hair whip! hmm. Maybe I could be a comic book afterall! I certainly have the geeky side! ooh! story idea! hee hee hee.

another letter

Dear Men,

Not all men, mind you, but I'm thinking generally maybe older men.

Please do me a favor. If your nipples show through yor shirt, please wear a t shirt. or band aides. or something. Because I can't help but look when they're standing at attention and waving at me. But I don't want to look. Really. I get embarassed. Just as I would like you to look me in the eye when I speak to you, so would I like to look you in the eye. it looks (thanks for this reference, oh jootastic one) like you are smuggling tic tacs. Now I know it's warm out. but if I can suffer all day in an ill fitting bra so that you don't have to feel embarassed when I go swinging by (I do need support, they're perky, not fake!) you can layer so that i don't have to feel like a prevert staring at your chest. sheesh.

Yippee!

I just discovered a place where all the dollar stores buy thier stuff. OH BOY!

I remember what I wanted to blog about. Jessica Simpson has a weak chin. Now, she can sing. And at certain angles (not this one) she is very pretty, and although she may be a little overexposed, I have to admire the fact that she's reaping it in while she can. But her face IS ill proportioned. Terribly weak chin. but I guess we all can't be perfect. actually, who can?

cookies

my cookies were a big success. maybe I will start baking again. I can bake and sew at the same time.

Random Ramblings

I'm wearing my cookie monster socks today. No one else seems to be quite as excited about it as I am.

There's something I want to blog about but I can't remember what it is.

My favorite word today, turdcapades. I got it from http://kadel.blogspot.com/. He makes me laugh. He is also an obvious Harry Potter Fan.

No, I have not read the new book. After starting it, I decided to go back and reread #5. I finished it yesterday. I will now continue to #6.

I am having an urge to sew lately. I have decided that all the two year olds I know need capes. At last count, I now have five in my world.hee hee. They're going to be so cute! Especially those youngest siblings!

We're playing a practical joke on my boss. I managed to get it started without cracking a smile. He fell for it hook, line and sinker. Please tell the acadamy I would like my Oscar.

Confession

I hope you find this as amusing as I do.

Every time I see a large box (large means it's bigger than my ass) I want to climb inside it. You know, like a little kid, except I think it would be difficult and probably innappropriate if I did that at work in my skirt and heels. Guess I just like hiding in stuff.

I was thinking

stop saying uh oh!

While I was watching ou cooks make my food yesterday, and seeing how they use the same rag to wipe the knife and the same cutting boards to cut everything, that a person who's religeous conviction forbids them to eat a certain food would be unable to eat from our grill, or really from our kitchens at all. Now, I admit that it would be difficult to accomodate everyone's beliefs and I imagine that if you have a strict diet, you bring your own food. But just in case you are one of those people, I'm thinking of you.

AAARG!

That's all. Just needed to scream.

Weekend Update

I got my lawn all aerated! I stomped around the doggy doo. Made an apron for my boss's granddaughter's 2nd birthday present. It's really cute. Ate steak at the neighbor's (I don't think his mom cares for me, but that's ok, she's an ok neighbor,but I wouldn't want to be related) All in all, Saturday was very productive.

And as productive as Saturday was, Sunday was just as lazy. I didn't even climb the mountain. Oh well, it was a lovely day, comepleted by a big bowl of mint chip ice cream. mmm. yummy. I only left my neighborhood to go get the ice cream all weekend long. how's that for saving gas?

PR did not call, which was good on one hand, but unfortunate on the other because I was all psyched out to explain to him why I can not date him, (not the too old, bald thing, that's just mean) but because I really am still hung up on the ex, and I wouldn't want to do to anyone what C did to me. If T and I were not in constant contact, it would be different. but we are, and as long as I still have hope for him (soap opera still continues) it wouldn't be right to date someone, especially since I would really ony be using him to amuse me (since I am not really interested in him) and keep me from being lonely. Sure, it is possible to come to care for someone that you were not initially interested in, I have done that before (C and J) but that doesn't always work out as well as it did for 2 years with C and usually you have ick feelings like I do for J. So all in all, better that he didn't call, but at least I was ready to give up a truth to make sure all was well with the world.

Hooray! Progress!

She signed the partnership agreement and I can now file my application for a sales permit. YAY! Cross your finges that I get it in time for a September launch!

Searching fun.

The following web results got people here. I am highly amused that someone would web search "Monster Ick"

And, By the way, Lurker from Tempe, do I know you? It is unlikely that anyone would search "ginamonster" so many times if they didn't know someone who called herself such. I'm not saying that I am the only one, but there aren't many other than me...I'm just curious.

ginamonster
white see-through skirt
array
husbands are assholes
sargini
nakid in bed
humming birds
anti-queer eye
where are raves
top ten ryan reynolds
monster ick
hairy chests
christian slater 2005

CRAP!

I don't think I told you about Park Ranger, the guy I met at the faire on Sunday. Park Ranger (PR) came along and sat for a long time watching me as I learned to weave on my Inkle Loom. We talked about this and that, and about my family's property which is in his desert jurisdiction.

He expressed interest in joining our guild at faires. So I gave him our card. (my info is not on the card, I am an apprentice) Then he wanted my number. Now, judging from my attitude towards him, I can say that although he is a nice fellow, I am not interested. Judging from the fact that I'm thinking (based on the amount of grey in his beard and the lack of hair on his head) that he is at least 10 years older than me. Out of my preferred range.

So I was thinking by yesterday that I wouldn't be hearng from him. Then he called last night. After a legnthy conversation, he asked what I was doing this weekend. I told him I was busy. Then he asked the question all women dead when they are making excuses. "Really, what are you doing?" uh, uh, (crap!) I have a lot of pick up work around the house that needs to be done (if I tell him I need to aerate my lawn, is that too obvious? I do need to, and I will be doing it this weekend) you know the stuff I would have done last weekend but I was at faire. (uh, um, panic, panic!CRAP!)
So I stuttered out a few mindless activities, feeling like a big idiot bitch, and finally said, "Why don't you call me this weekend and if I'm not knee deep in mud, I'll try to come out".

When will I ever learn? Oy.

Thank you

Thank you, all three of you for your wonderful insight to my last post. Your comments have helped me see this situation from a light I didn't want to consider, even though it was nagging in the back of my mind. I accept that it Sargini may be right on the money. I don't like it, I hope he's wrong (as far as T just trying to get a piece, which, I assure you he has not) but he may not be.
Since you guys have so kindly waved a sign in front of my face, I can step outsde this stuation and watch how it goes. I do think that this is a drama that will have to play itself out. I don't know how it will end. But I will do my best to hold onto my belief that fuck friends never turn out for the best (I've been burned twice by this) and that while it is possible that T and I may actully live happily ever after (slightly more likely than Orlando Bloom showing up on my doorstep and falling madly in love with me, but only slightly) it is even more likely that I will before too long (if things continue like they have) ask what is going on and act accordingly. I have come to the amazingly comforting conclusion that this drama just has to play itself out. I'll let you guys know when it is over and what happens.

Let us look at this Logically

If you were a man (and perhaps you are)and you considered a woman, who was once your Girlfriend, just a friend, would you do the following:

Email her all day every day (you do not e-chat with anyone else)
Strike up very naughty conversations in said emails
Go to dinner and movies with her semi frequently
Make naughty popcorn jokes during said movie
Agree to teach her all you know about a subject (not dirty) promising a differnt chapter each day
Express dissapointment that her naughtier side did not have time to appear during your months together

Can we understand given the signals I am recieveing why I am so confused?

Almost made it

I didn't tell you that we watched "Sky High" last night. It was a fun movie.

Steven Strait almost made it to my hot list, but fell out of the running when I found out he's only 19. That's just wrong. Guess that's what I get for watching Disney Films.

Meloncholia

I have it today. I'm sure you know why. I guess I had more hope than I thought I did for my little outing last night. I will not be discussing it further.

today's amusing phrase:

penile decoration.

Spinning. This expression is known in my family as the "Leroy Look" and it's a perfect example. it's one of the few things I inhrerited from my father. I do it when I am concentrating.

Dear Lady next to me at the funeral Friday,

Hi. I realize we have not met. That you have never seen me around the neighborhood or in Church before. You may wonder why, if this is the case, I am dressed so well in my suit, heels and updo, since I must not know that man very well if you have never seen me before. The guy up there was a business associate. I dress like this for work. Because I respected and liked him so much, I am missing work to pay my respects to him and to support his family. That said, the following is a message to you.

Please stop staring at me. You may be staring because I am not singing hymmns with the rest of the congragation. That is because as a non-church going pagan individual, I don't know the song. I don't want to know the song because I find contemporary hymns repetitive and annoying. The melodies do not speak to me. tey do not lift my heart and make me think of God, they make me quietly beg for it to be over so I can start the process of getting the mindless droning out of my head. Had you been singing Amazing Grace, you would have benefitted from all the (two) years of vocal coaching I cleaned house to pay for. So quit staring and mind your own business. This isn't about me, it's about that 47 year old man who fell through his roof last week that we will all miss terribly.

It turned out well

I ended up having a wonderful, although tiring weekend. Ran into old friends, made a new one, learned a new skill. I can now weave on an Inkle Loom, which means that I can weave flat bands for...dog collers and leashes? Whatever, you know how I am about learning new things even if they appear useless.

T and I are going to the movies tonight. I am catching a lot of shit about it here at work, but he seems excited to be going, and that makes me happy. It's a quiet day here, so imagine more entries will be forthcoming. maybe I will find something interesting. im the meantime, I have a letter to write.

Trying

I am really trying to embrace my inner geek. I am not having a good time of it.

Spent most of my day at the rennisaunce faire, because I see it as an opportunity to spin all day long. Nothing but fiber talk and gossip. and yes, I do dress up. I have to admit, I am a little ashamed of it. I think I have mentioned it before. but I feel like an asshole thinking geekly of the people who are really into it (more the people my age who get REALLY into it and learn swordfighting and talk about it nonstop...you know the ones I'm talking about) Because I go, so doesn't that actually, in truth, make me one of them? I don't think everyone tere is a total geek, there are some really facinating, interesting people there. Maybe I am an asshole, and that is what I truly have to accept.

Another Re-Occurring theme

You know that my roomates frustrate me sometimes. I'm sure I frustrate them too. since I have a tendancy to leave my mess on whatever open table space there is. But they don't say anthing. Actually, I have asked if it bugs them and they say no. But I have to admit, it bugs me, so I assume it bother's them as well.

The people who know me suggest that at the end of my lease I swallow my pride and get an apartment. Alone. Here is why.

I like to treat wherever I am living as if it were my own home. This doesn't mean that I am perfect, but a bit of up keep is important. My yard, is looking like crap. Boy roomie, tends to turn on the water and leave, so although he tells me it's on, sometimes I forget to turn it off. But he doesn't bother to move the sprinklers. (we do not have an automatic system.) Which means if it is out of the path of the sprinkler, it doesn't get watered. I go around with my wtering can, but we have a lot of fruit trees, and they are all dying. When I mentioned that the fruit trees need water, he joked, "oh, they need water?" Sigh. I am buying myself a short hose maybe tonight with a little spray nozzle so that I can water better.Which is where my current gripe with Girl roomie comes in. The dog likes to make her waste under the Lemon and Grapefruit trees. This is also where the hammock is. and the horeshoe pit. The Lemon and Grapefruit trees are two of the oldest trees on the property. I think They are dying. Now, we cannot make Molly poo somewhere else. But it NEVER gets picked up. so when I am out there with my little watering can in a pathetic attempt at bringing back my trees, I have to dodge to poo. When the neighbor's kids come over, I have to tell them they can't play over there. Plus, it stinks. I have picked up the poo on a few occations. But she isn't my dog. Poo is one of the reasons I don't have a dog. Girl roomie does not often come home before 9:00 at night, if at all. The dog has also torn through on of the screens on the back window and is working on the other one. Which means the window cannot be open and there is no airflow in the house. Which means my pets might be cooking in there as we speak. I clean up after my pets. She's good dog. I wonder about her owner. sad.

CURED!!

My counselor says I don't need her anymore right now. I can call her if I have any more "bumps" to get over, but right now, apparently, I am cured. And all I had to do is decide that I am willing to consider the idea of having children.

However, the counseling sessions helped me in many other ways too. I now know that it is ok for me to be mad at my mother's second husband because he's a jerk. We get along now, but he really did make my childhood unpleasant. It's also ok for me to be mad at my mom for expecting so much of me. I can forgive myself for mistreating my siblings because I was really too young to take on the responsibilities that were put upon me.

What does this mean for my future? I don't know.

Scary dream though, I had a baby. A boy. There was no father. I think it's because I was watching "Where the Heart Is" before bed. I haven't finished it yet.

I also watched "Wake Up Ron Burgandy" last night. Lame. Don't bother. they constructed it out of delelted scenes, and it was obvious. The funniest parts had already been put into the uncut version of "Anchorman"

um...

is it a good thing that he wants to HEAR (read) all the naughty things I would have liked to have done but didn't?

Just in case it is, I am. I'm not very good at detail. I'm glad my boss isn't here to see me blushing. I'm not goood at this...

sob.

I'm screaming and crying and carrying on in my head because I so love to talk about my feelings (it hurts) and really, in the end, I don't think that telling him that he exercised his exit option just when I was finally getting comfortable will benefit me. Except that I managed to express myself. small consolation to a (still) broken heart. very small.

I'll put these feelings back in thier place and return to talking about interesting stuff like my stripper brother soon, I promise.

You guys will be so proud of me!

So the stripping conversation turned into a discussion on me releasing my inner slut, who, contrary to popular belief, is a very good friend of mine, but, like I told T, is very shy and must be coaxed out. (he thinks coaxed sould be a dirty word) He expressed remorse that he never met her and suggested that he should have gotten me drunk. My reply read something like the following:

"Perhaps. But then again, I was finally feeling comfortable and secure. I still repect your decision, but perhaps you should have stuck around longer."

Point to Monster. Course, now I'm all weepy again, but I think I am hiding it well. He didn't respond to that comment. Maybe he will, likely he won't. to a comment I made in another conversation, about how I would like to be a slutty wife (you know, at home) someday but that attitude hasn't gotten me very far, he says "patience grasshopper". How do I take that from the man who's slutty wife I would like to be? Guess that means I lose my point for being strong and expressing myself. damn.

bad, bad, visual

T and I were discussing the fact that one of my step brothers is now stripping. Yeah. although my mom would like to, I will not be attending the show.

snore

I had computer training all day yesterday. It was boring, but there was a bit of excitement. First a letter:

Dear guy on the Freeway,
We are flattered that you chose to stare openly at us while we were driving. I realize that my coworker is a sexy pregnant lady and that there is nothing more exciting about a woman who knits in the passenger seat, but, please keep the following in mind next time you see ladies on the road:
You were cuter with your shirt off. This is not something I say often. But really, keep your shirt on.
Men Licking thier lips is not sexy. It's gross. You are no longer cute. you are now "icky"
Don't hang out your window to stare at me longer as you drive by, you're on the freeway. In morning traffic. I'm not that cute. moron.


Then, I innocently got a muffin when we arrived. I thought it was blueberry. It was banana nut. I'm allergic to bananas. The instructor looked right at me just as I was trying to spit it out and said, "Oh, please, go ahead and eat". I nearly tripped on the way to the trash can. Then everyone watched as I dug through my purse searching for antihisimines. I took two yellow allergy/sinus pills and prayed they would work. and proceeded to drink a litre of water over the next hour. I felt really goofy and when I went to the bathroom, I discovered that my tounge had turned pink. bright pink. like something out of Willy Wonka. It really freaked out my coworkers.

Thus ends my report of interesting suff from yesterday. My tounge is no longer pink.

yeah. we are so not ready.

I just found out that one of my vendors died tragically yesterday. He fell off his roof and landed on his head. That's the sort of thing you see in movies.

I am so sad to see him gone. I don't work with a lot of vendors in my position, and he was one of the ones I looked forward to seeing. He was always in a good mood, always interested in doing whatever he needed to do to make my life easier. And when we would work closely together, we would talk about his family, how much he loved his wife, and the couple's retreats they would go on together to help them be better partners to each other. He is a good soul. He had so much advice and so many suggestions for me. we would talk about philosophy and the bible. He would tell me bible stories, which, ordinarily would sound unpleasant, but he is the first person who made the book sound interesting. It was to him that I first suggested that I might actually read it. because the stories sound good. It makes me smile to know that he likely went home that day feeling as though he had done his job as a christian that day by spreading the word of christ. See it from his eyes, and you will be happy for him too. Now, when I do read it, I can think of him and know it would make him happy.

I can only imagine the sorrow that his family feels. I would like to think of some way that I can express to them the sorrow I feel too. I hope that I get the opportunity to tell them somehow how much he meant to me, and how much I enjoyed our times together. He was actually a little bit more than a vendor. I would like say he was my friend. I wasn't ready to say goodbye.

I'm ready for my heartbreak now, Mr DeMille

Epiphany in the shower. Guess that would make it a nakid epiphany.

My mom said something yesterday about how she thinks perhaps T is not ready to settle down. (this is not going where you think it is going, trust me) This could be true, but it is not the epiphany.

I realized, that in life, we are never ready. We are never ready for children. we are never ready to buy houses. we are never ready to settle down. or, like my title says, we never sit back and say "Ok, Universe, send me that heartbreak now, because I am READY for it" But we do the things we do to get by in life, and when sadness comes along, we deal with it. And I think, most often, when love comes along, we're not ready, but we are so busy trying to be ready that we don't recognize it until it is gone. I think that is why C still has hope*. Likely, that is why I still have hope even though it tears me apart every moment of every day**. So it is best to stop trying to prepare and live life, before we miss it completely.

We can be ready for the pitch. We can be ready for dinner. We can't be ready for life. If you say you are ready, I really think you are deluding yourself.


*He called last week and we went to the movies last night. I made sure I met him there, and bought my ticket before he arrived, and no, I didn't want iany snacks, thank you, so it would feel less like a date. The movie was good, and thankfully we parked in opposite parking lots so there would be no deep conversations. I am wary, because he only seems to be my friend these days when I am single. And I don't think that is a true friendship.

**The most difficult thing I think will have to do (in recent history) is to tell T that I still care. Because if I don't, I will always wish I had. I know it will be humiliating. and that it will make things uncomfy between us if he doesn't feel the same. That my confession will likely force me to walk away for good, as I have been threatening to do for three months. But since I have been waiting for the time to be right. Waiting for me to be ready, then I think sooner is better than later since I will never be ready or comfortable with it, and the time will never be "right". This is life, not the movies.