damned if ya do, and damned if ya don't

So one of the guys I have been talking to on MySpace finally gave me his number (since I wouldn't give him mine) and said that girls never call guys. While this may be true in his world, I told him that if I say I will call, I will call. (I did not tell him I would call)
After recieving his number, I decided that I was not going to call. That I didn't see a future between us, and I wanted to be up front and honest. (I don't want to waste his time and possibly his money going out when I am not really interested) I sent him a message telling him this as kindly as I cold, because, why keep beating around the bush?
Apparently, I proved his point about girls calling and also about something else which he said he would discuss later.
People keep telling me that all they want is for men/women to be honest with them. But when I am honest, I am the bad guy. I don't think men should have to read my mind, so I really want to be honest when I am not interested, right away, so things don't get misconstrued. I don't want to string anyone along, but I'm mean if I cut them loose?
I don't get it.

Sad News

HR got "Trapped".

Another one bites the dust.


Later...

I'm more upset by this than I thought I would be. On one hand, it always bothers me when a man gets trapped. Children should be a joint decision, not a way to keep someone in your life if you don't think they want to be there. On the other hand, HR is the kind of man who will "do the right thing" which means getting to know him on a more than friendly level likely will not happen. I mean, I would still like to get to know him on a friendly level, but, you know, I looked at him as a possibility. I guess that's what I get for not being bolder. But I cannot change who I am.

Out of control

My sister called me last night while I was a Barnes and Noble trying to find Art Nouveau clip art for my catalog. Here's what she had to say:

"I was thinking just the other day about how when we were little, you used to stuff your mouth so full or spaghetti noodles that your cheeks would bulge out and you could hardly chew. And I thought, next time I talk to Gina, I will have to ask her about it"

I had to reply with the truth.

I still do it. I don't know why. The thing is, I have no noodle control. They fall off the fork then there is just a few, and sometimes they all stick together so that you CAN'T just have one or two at a time. And what might be one mouthful for most people is two or three for me because I have a small mouth. So I end up overstuffing because I just can't help myself.

You might feel the need to leave me a message telling me to cut my noodles up, but I wasn't taught that way and I just can't bear to do it. In my mind there is something terribly wrong with short noodle pieces. I never knew anyone noticed that until Seester mentioned it last night. We both had a good laugh about it, and I'm sure it will be a lifelong issue. Perhaps that is my superhero weakness. I can be beaten by noodles.

Another day in paradise

Had a good weekend. Busy, but good.

Went to dinner with bug guy and his new girl on Friday, AND I got to take home ALL the leftovers.
Went to dinner and a movie with my friend Dustin. Except that I forgot my wallet and he ended up paying, and I'm still very embarassed.
Went to a Franchise Business opportunity trade show to check out the options, and although I found one that would suppliment the soap very well, I have decided to file it for now and build my existing business instead.
My rib has finally retuned to where it belongs.
Bought more plants for my garden. I have not killed any of my garden plants. Hooray!
Went to the pet store twice and did not buy any new pets. I'm researching Hermit Crabs, but I cannot have one (or three) until I get my finances in order. And get a passport. I don't have one, and I could be travelling if I did. Well, if I had a passport and money. hmm.

Conversations with communications

My friend in the communication department just called me. The conversation went something like this. I'm funny.

W: (no, not the president. also not the W I dated long ago.) Is Grace gone for the day?

Me: No...

W: Maybe you can help me. are the consultants still on property?

Me: I don't know. Try asking Rob

W: who is Rob do you have his number?

Me: He's in charge of that project. I don't have his number, his last name is ******* (we can look up anyone on our phones, even if they are staying in the hotel, which has been cool for me because sometimes I find my dad in there)

W: oh, and what is his number?

Me: W, do you really think that be asking me that question in a different way that you would get a different answer? I've had way too much coffee today for that.

W: it's been a long day...

Postalicious

First, a poem:

Handsome Richard, Hi
Do not run away from me!
Do I smell Funny?

Mom says you like me
I want to get to know you
I can't, when you leave!

Had a great evening with my brother who I told I would not be trying to play mother for, since he needs a big sister more than another parent. Fly, my birdie, fly.

My aunt sent me the meme about suing one word to describe the person who sent you the email. I sent her "cheerful" she sent me "Brave"

The answer to this is the following. "really? I don't feel brave, I feel like a big chicken that would like to hide, but has to cross the road in order to pay the rent." Somehow, I think I have found the meaning of life. (Again I find it every few years. Then it changes. The original definition remains the same, but with new ones added on. You know, because life is always changing)

Replies and lessons learned

thnx gina.....your right....i am fucking up.....i just dont know how to get out of the "i dont really care" mood. i know everyone cares and is rescuing me, but sometimes i wish that you all would let me fall on my face, then i could learn and pull myself up... oh, and i did leave the computer on while i was at school, i was a good kid and went like you told me to. : D




Eric,You know I love you. Even when you fuck up. It just breaks my heart to see it. I was ready to storm over there tonight, take away your computer and babysit you until Momi gets home. But I was reminded that I'm not your parent and you are going to do whatever you want with or without my intervention. (i may still come by to use the dryer) I was told to butt out, and I'm going to.Please start to care before you fall, or at least know that when you are ready to pick yourself up you have support. Struggling isn't fun, believe me. Except, that's not really what you want, is it? you want to learn it for yourself. It must be difficult to have every adult in your life playing parent and telling you what to do all the time. I had the opposite problem. I didn't really have a whole lot of supervision when I was your age.thanks for going to school. Please go again tomorrow. i might see you tonight.I've learned a lesson today. Thanks.

Letters to Brother

My mom's in Hawaii and my brother is at home. He's nearly 18 and hasn't been bothering to go to school like he should. I spoke to the attendance lady at his school today and she says he's been missing a lot of school.

I called him at home, woke him up and told him to get his butt to school, even though he was already late. A few minutes ago, I was looking at MySpace and saw that he is online. The following is the message I sent to him.

You had better have left your computer on while you are at school.
Do you know what is the most frustrating part for me? Knowing that you're smart enough to know better but you just don't care. And that there is nothing I can do or say to you to make you understand that it's not ok for you to behave like this. and that you'll get away with it because your parents don't want to look like failures if you fail. But this is on you. You have to be responsible for yourself. No one is going to help you or support you if you don't try. I don't want to see you fail, and I don't want to see you travelling down the road I am seeing you go. But Honestly? If it were up to me? I'd let you go there just to show you the consequences of your actions. Because I love you and if you fail, it's your fault and none of us can save you. You have to do it for yourself. And obviously, you're not going to learn how to swim for yourself if we keep rescuing you. I want you to learn that it's YOUR life you're fucking up. And Eric, Honey, you're fucking up.

I told the truth. Am I a bitch?

the following letter appeared in my Friendster mailbox:


himanshu wrote:> Hi,
I am writing to inquire about possible romance/friends/activity partner/dating opportunities with you. I am extremely interested in pursuing a career in Love and I believe that I have the experience, skills, commitment, and knowledge needed for success in this industry. In addition to this, I have a proven ability to meet deadlines and produce quality results.
Currently I am pursuing MS in LOVE at San Diego State University and I have a 3.46 overall GPA. The last five years of my schooling have prepared me to propose a person like you. I have taken classes that have given me excellent knowledge of love languages such as Love at first sight, Proposing first time, First Kiss, Shopping for girls etc and have learned the fundamentals of sex, party, love, kiss, etc. All of which are extremely useful skills in this industry.
Currently, I am 24, very much male and single and i am responsible to find a partner for myself. In my previous jobs at San Diego State University I worked as Graduate Assistant to Prof. XYZ for Love & Love Communication where I helped his students to discover love. I also learned the value of good eye communication while working for Dr. ZZZ as graduate assistant for Importance of eye Communication.
I would really like it if I could have the opportunity to speak or correspond with you through phone or e-mail as soon as possible; my cell phone number is xxxxxxxx I look forward to hearing from you soon.
Sincerely,> Jai (* PS: If you are already dating/seeing someone else then either update ur profile or break ur relation so that you can date me)


To which I replied:

Dear Jai,
Thank you for submitting your resume. While I found it rather impressive in the areas of section E (English Skills) and Section C (Creativity) of my hiring code, I found insufficient items in Section I (Interests and hobbies) and Section A (Attraction). However, given your proficiancy in Section H (Humor) combined with your aforementioned experience in Section C, I would like to invite you to continue to do business as a consultant under Section F (Friend)

Working from home

So, really, and mostly my own fault, I'm broke. I knowI could manage my finances better, and really I'm working on that, but this does not help the fact that right now, at this moment, I don't have as much money as I would like to have.
So yesterday, when I recieved my weekly pennysaver, I thought I would check the help wanted section to see if anything caught my fancy.
The first option was from a sincere couple looking to pay at least $40,000 for a surrogate mother. Hmm. but do I really trust a couple who would advertise in the pennysaver for an incubator? I mean, I was looking, so other people like me probably look, but something just sounded odd about it. Plus, I'm not so sure I want to spend 9 months pregnant with a child I will probably never see again. For my sisters, I would do it. for a stranger, I'm not so sure. Although the temptation is occationally there to sell my eggs because, hey, I'm not using them! and hey! people actually pay for those, and Hey! men sell their sperm, right? (except that men have an unlimited army as I do not)
So I looked at work at home opportunities, which all sound great except that I have been bitten twice by that and I don't really want to be bitten again. The first time was through a friend of my mother who assembled jewelry at home. I sent my money and application, and never heard from them again. I sent letters, but eventually had to kiss that $150 goodbye. The reason I was trying to work from home is because I needed money, not because I had it to spare.
The second time, I signed up to stuff envelopes at home, but found out that the envelopes I would be stuffing were envelopes advertising how you can stuff envelopes at home and so on. There was a money back guarantee, but I missed the deadline. I can't remember what happened with that. Likely another waste of funds.
This time, I went to the websites advertised. And saw that yes, it is possible to make $15 processing rebates or money entering data, but the data they showed looked more like spam to me, and the rebate comany didn't really say what the rebates were for. Both companies wanted $100 to sign up.
Yes, I am willing to work at a store or something for extra cash. But wouldn't it be nice if I could work from home at my leisure? (Remember, I have a start up business to run) I guess the moral of the story is, there are no free rides and nothing takes the place of hard work. Thank goodness I learned that lesson when I was younger. I hope no one is getting hoodwinked by these companies.

applause from the men's section

It occurred to me today that for men, sex is never free. You can pay for it with a prostitute, or you can find yourself a girlfriend, but either way, you're paying for it. T pointed out that even if you aren't getting any, you are still paying to update your car, wardrobe, etc. in order to make yourself more attractive to the opposite sex so that perhaps you can be "the one".
I would like to pretend that I am outside of the norm when it comes to women and this situation, but truly I am not. Did I not dye my hair in order to be more attractive and then spend countless dollars trying to return it to normal? (it's over $200 in hair products and services now, and I'm still not back to normal) do I not wear makeup and have fake nails? Sure, I tell myself that I do these things for me, but truly, deep down, I really am looking for a mate. And I know that it's my looks that will attract him first. That's biology.
Has dating always been so expensive? T says that lions have manes, women need money. I think I need to examine my priorities and consider what I really want in a man and whether money is really all that important to me. I was brought up not to expect things from people. But I think that in raising the bar for myself, I have forgotten, maybe what is truly important. I don't want time with me to be a financial burden...

Things that are difficult to say

Talking with T today, I discussed with him for the first time J (the obnoxious coworker) and I mentioned that every time I stop dating someone, I raise my standards a bit. He wanted to know how it was that he raised my standards. I replyed with the following:

"You will be difficult to replace. I cannot think of anything you brought to our relationship that I took issue with. subsequent men will have to meet or exceed the expectations that you set. I guess you made me pickier by setting a higher standard."

To which he replied that he has lowered his standards but he doesn't want to talk about it.

This was one of the most difficult things I have said. But it is true. And sadly,it doesn't make an ounce of difference.

So I waited...

I waited a full year to hear the following words, and Saturday brought that wait to a close. Yes indeed, as I cleaned the kitchen, from the living room I heard a man's timbre:

"No Soup for you."

That bird will never cease to amaze and delight me. I am not a fan of Seinfield, but I do appriciate that many people find the show very amusing. I, myself am amused my the idea of the Soup Nazi and have been telling people that Baby says that, but I have never heard her. Now I have. My day was complete.

quiet weekend

I managed to stay home all weekend long (except for dance class) which is a minor miracle for me. Staying home means that I knitted and cleaned and made soap and...and learned embroidery, or at least started to. This does not sound very exciting but you really have to look at it this way:

I'm so broke it's not funny. so staying at home means I didn't use any extra gas. it also means that I didn't spend any money. Do you know how hard it was for me to make do with whatever crafty stuff I had laying around? I really wanted to go buy needles or yarn or anything but I didn't. I made myself stay home and use what I have bought in the past because shopping is the number one reason why I am broke in the first place. So hooray for me!

Confuzzled

(Confuzzled is a word I have borrowed from my young cousin Sierra. She's a really neat kid. I wish I knew her better)

There have only been three times in my life that I can recall someone telling me that they don't want to be my friend anymore. Sure, friends have come and gone for various reason over the years, and it has always been a bit sad when I have realized that a person I was previously close to will no longer be a part of my regularly scheduled program. I have come to accept that this is how life is, and that it is a part of growing. The first time, I was in 3rd grade and a girl, Natalia, had a new friend who wanted something I had. When I refused to give up my prize, she announced that if I didn't, she wouldn't be my friend anymore. That was the end of Natalia. The second, I have discussed with you as happening a year ago with C, with whom I am back on friendly terms.

The third happened a couple of days agoo when I was reading one of my regular blog reads and I came accross an entry that discussed how the person's blog to blog friendship with me was now over, as we had disagreed. This came as a surprise to me as I hadn't realized that I had ended the friendship. Silly you, he said, I don't want to be your friend anymore. (those were not his exact words, but close enough) He recieved my answer which was, I'm sorry to hear that, best of life to you, you won't hear from me again.

People, as a rule, disagree. We can't all have the same opinion about everything, debate teachers would be out of a job. I regret losing this friend, although his comments had become a bit disturbing and angry, but if it is his desision to end our blog relationship, so be it. I find it sad that one disagreement with his rather firm belief should cause such an extreme response, however, it would be unfair of me to disregard his feelings on the matter as important to him. So goodbye to that person, by his choice, I have removed him from my sidebar and will delete him from my favorites on monday. Sometimes, I guess we can't all just get along.

on a side note, I know that there are many of you who I have not added to my sidebar even though I read your blogs every day. I will try to get those put on there Monday. I am not promising anything because I do have a lot of work to do. but I will try. be well and have a great weekend.

Blanket

When I was a wee lass, all blonde and curly and smiley, rumor has it that I wandered around all the time with an object I only faintly remember, fondly known as my lovey, but more recognizable as an old diaper. This was in the days when disposables were new and expensive and tended to chafe a baby's bottom quite badly, so those of us who were born during this predisposable time lived in a world of cloth diapers, diaper pins, and rubber pants. (the phrase rubber pants is going to get me some weirdo hits, watch.) Diaper pins are a thing of the past, and cloth diapers, while still available, have been renamed Burping cloths for the use of the disposable diaper generation. And believe me, they're way too expensive now to use a few times then turn into dusting cloths which, all cloth diapers became when baby was potty trained.
I don't remember carrying my lovey, but I do remember once it was gone, returning to the hall closet where it lived for a little while as a dust cloth to rub my cheek against it. I also don't remember why I got in trouble once and had to wear it, but I'm pretty sure that my step dad was trying to make a point that I was acting like a baby at the tender age of six. And if I was going to act like a baby, I should wear a diaper for a bit. There's not a whole lot more to that memory, I had forgotten it was in there until just now. Come to think of it,I think my lovee disappeared altogether after that. But I do believe that I will always be fond of the smell of freshly bleached cotton and enjoy the feeling of it next to my skin, and what do you know, thanks to this post, I understand why!
But really, my lovey is not what this post is all about. I also remember a blanket that I aquired when I was about 4. At least that's when I was told I got it. I really don't remember a time before I had it. I do remember that it smelled good. That it was a quilt. That I liked to look at all the crazy patterns on it when I couldn't sleep at night and I would stay up playing on my bed. Was? I mean is. I stopped sleeping with it a few years ago, along with the little pillow my mom snuggled when she was pregnant with me because she wanted to hold me so badly. My quilt and pillow are packed away now, along with all my other blankets.
I don't know how this item has lasted through the years. I remember the day my step dad sold my Benji sleeping bag at a garage sale because he insisted that it was my security blanket and had to go. I didn't know then what a security blanket was, but I knew my sleeping bag kept me warm. Somehow, the quilt and pillow stayed with me, escaping his scrutiny.
As I have grown, (I retain a great fondness for quilts) I have come to understand that not only do most people have a favored blanket from thier younger years, but that many of them still have it. be it quilted or crochet, it has remained through the years as a reminder of the child that was and the comforts given. The other day, as I presented my boss with a quilt I created to be given to his new granddaughter. He smiled and told me about the quilt that he's had since he was a young man that he still wraps up in when he's feeling sick. I started remembering all my friends who have told me over the years that they still have that special blanket. I watch the young children in my life as they drag theirs around. I am proud to have made some of them for them. I realized that when I give a child a blanket, it's not only something to keep them warm and snuggly when they are young, it's a lifetime of hugs they might just treasure forever.
I realized that rather than be ashamed of my blanket, and believe me there have been many times when I have hidden it away so that a new boyfriend wouldn't see, I should take it out and treasure it like the old friend that it is. It may be tattered and torn, and way too tired for a bed mate, but it certainly isn't something I should be ashamed of. It certainly deserves better than to be stuck in an old bag in my closet. it should be out, visible, caressable, smellable, loveable. Treasure that it is. My blanket. Not for security, it never was, but for memories of the child that I was and the woman I have become.

This morning

This morning, I had lots of things to blog about. This afternoon, I got nothin.

I am now Gina with the light brown hair. I don't really consider it enough of an improvement, but I have gotten a few compliments on it and, I understand that she didn't want to fry my hair off. it's going to take a lot of time to get me back to normal. sigh. I'm calling my hair plaid because it had horizontal stripes and now it has vertical ones too. I'll post pictures as soon as I download them off of my camera, which I could do right now, but I have to pee instead.

cracking up

Someone found me by searching "porn starlets in lakeside" obviously, although this person lives in San Diego, they have never been to Lakside. I mean, I've learned to like it there, but as soon as you hit the county border, "dueling banjos" starts to play no matter what station your radio is tuned to. A woman with teeth is rare, and if she only has one illigitimate child, and she has teeth, well, that might be the porn starlet you're looking for. Sadly, in Lakeside, I'm something akin to a demigoddess. (all my teeth, no kids, never been married, not on crystalmeth, and I only hear voices on Tuesdays)

Bits and Pieces

You know, every time I say or think pieces, Ashlee Simpson starts singing in my head, which makes me very upset because, well, I'm not impressed with her. and that's me being nice. Except when I think about Reeces Pieces, in which case I think about how yummy they are, how much my mom likes them and ET.

Meanwhile, here's some stuff that I need to get offa my head.

Dear Self,
Your hand it not a hammer. Hammer hands is not your superpower, so stop trying to use your hand as a hammer. especially when there is a perfectly good real hammer 10 steps away. You only get two hands, and you have abused them enough over the years.

thank you,
me

Odd things overheard in my apartment Sunday:

Hey! quit eating my socks!
OW you bit my toe!
Hey! Quit eating the carpet. There will be no carpet munching! (I hope my neighbors thought that was funny too)

No, I didn't have a date, the bunny was out.

I was very proud of myself for covering my new plants with plastic last night to keep them warm. then I forgot to uncover them this morning. I'm worried about the Lemon Balm, she's not looking very healthy. But at keast they will be warm today!

I ran for 30 minutes on the treadmill last night. went 2 whole miles. Thus begins an earnest effort to be prepared for this years mud run. I also ate 5 full servings of fruit yesterday. I have another 5 just waiting to be eaten in my purse right now. I learned that if I eat fruit all morning I'm not so hungry for lunch. I also learned that fruit makes my purse heavy.

Went for ice cream with guy last night. I told him I wouldn't date him, am I leading him on by letting him buy me ice cream? I don't want to confuse him with hope...How do I get myself into these situations? Is everyone as confused by dating as I am??

Perfection

Nobody is pefect. You just can't exect that of someone. so I think that part of finding a partner in this big lonely world, is meeting someone who you are not only attracted to, and you like to do most of the same things, and you like talking to each other, but also that you can accept the things about them that may drive someone else nuts. D, for example, handled my clutter like some sort of saint (whereas I would get VERY upset if he rearranged the furniture). But it is entirely possible that after me, he cannot handle a woman who is crafty and has to leave a craft explosion everywhere she goes. I'm not sure. I've never asked.
I believe that while everyone has their deal breakers, everyone also has their things that they may not like, but they can handle for the sake of loveing someone. It could be a husband that leaves his underwear of the floor. Or a wife that sticks her loose hairs to the shower wall.(ahem. you know who you are). T didn't shower before bed, but I snuggled him anyway. D, on the other hand HATED that I came to bed with cold wet hair every night and consequently dripped it on him during pre sleep snuggles. He never asked me to change that. It never occured to me that I should. (or at least learn to use a hairdryer, which, by the way is not one of my many talents) I think that part of the reason D and I weren't right for each other is that I wasn't willing to change my wet night hair. But he would have lived with it for the rest of his life if I had asked him too.
I don't think it is fair to ask someone to change for you. When I think of this, I always hear Mark tell Bridget, "No. I like you. Just as you are". Then Martina McBride starts singing in my head about how her baby loves her just the way that she is. And I realize that perhaps, that's the way it's supposed to be. I think that sometimes, even though they may be willing to change for you, if they have to, right off the bat, then perhaps they are not a person who you should be with. And that they shouldn't change because you want them to, or because by changing, you might want to be with them, but because in the normal course of things, they have decided that it is time to change themselves. And then you support them in this.
I think that if a person is right for you, you accept those things without even considering if they should change them. Because no one is perfect. It the imperfections that make us interesting. Or annoying as the case may be. Perfect. It's such a constricting word.

I need a vacation after my weekend

Had fun with Guy, he was dissapointed in dealbreaker, but we got along well and are going to remain friends. We went to old town and walked around and toured the Whaley House, which, if you're in the area and want to experience some ghosties, I recommend it. They were active while I was there. Small children who haven't learned not to, might see all sorts of things (there was a girl of maybe 4 who saw a child dancing, and then a baby sleeping, all in empty rooms) I was aware of a couple of presences and had my own experiences. it was great.
After, I went with C to see if we could catch a glimpse of the satelight that was reentering the atmosphere. Went all the way to the desert to see, nothing. But, we had a good talk about our friendship and where things are with us now and in the past. I didn't go to bed until nerly 5 am.
after I dragged myself out of bed, I headed to Wal Mart where I was inspired to plant a porch garden! i'm growng sage, strawberries, cayanne peppers (which I don't eat but I want to grow anyway), basil, lavender (girl roomie gave me a plant for my housewarming present), Lemon Balm, rosemary, and oregano. then, there was a frost. dangit! I'll be checking on the plants tonight and now that I have charged my camera, I'll take some pictures to share. Unfortunately, i did not have my camera for the Whaley House trip. That would have been cool. Poor ghosites, all these people tromping through thier house taking pictures all the time!
on a completely different subject, My mother informed me Saturday that she was talking to a person who knows (oh god, not this again) and apparently Handsome Richard likes me (why do I feel like I am in High School??) but he has a girl friend. I still maintain that he is handsome but I couldn't say whether I "like" him because well, we never talk, except for the occational Hello and he's so quiet all the time that I don't know what he is like personalitywise. Since I am comfotrable around his coworkers, he gets to see me in all my whacked out glory. So I couldn't questio how he could "like" me when he doesn't really know me. madness, all of it.

Blink, blink...

After the rapid fire responses to my last post, I am not sure what to say. I will say, however, that I treasure the support, and I consider the criticism. I had something to discuss, but I have forgotten what it is.

Deal Breakers

Talking on the phone last night with Guy (he's not really "new guy", I mean we haven't even met yet, and well, read on) we got in to a conversation about Alchohol and he admitted to me that what he really prefers most of all, I mean more than alchohol, which he doesn't drink that often, is a little bit o'weed once in awhile. and I thought, oh. well.
Not that he isn't still a very nice guy, and not that I haven't in the past gotten over some of my usual deal breakers when encountering a nice, attractive man, but this is one that I don't feel as though I can overlook.
Here's the thing. I don't do drugs. And while I can accept that there are people who do, I am not comfortable having them around me. My father is a drug addict, and, I could lose my job if I don't pass a piss test.
So here's what I imagined in my little head after I got off the phone with Guy last night.

We meet in person and like each other enough to date. (he wants to go to dinner Saturday).

A) He promises not to smoke it around me. But I show up at his house and he is just finished/still passing the joint/obviously high. Instant discomfort for me, and he feels badly for making me uncomfortable. Or, we're out camping with his friends and someone has some, he wants to do it, but "can't" because I am there, I become "that" girlfriend (you know the one everyone hates because she cramps his style) and he feels a little resentful that I am there because he is not free to imbibe.

B) He promises to quit. I am not the kind of woman to try and change a man. This is something he likes to do and there would be a little bit of tension between us as a result. Eventually, he sneaks a puff, which will lead to him lying about it or me losing trust in his word. Among other things.

I think, although he could be the man of my dreams, that this is just not worth getting involved. Sure, I can be his friend, we can go camping/to magic mountain/dinner/whatever*. but I just don't think I should get involved with someone who enjoys something I am this adamantly against.

*Whatever does not include sex. Or kissing, or petting, etc.

I just need to have the courage to tell him these things right away, because I don't wish to lead him on. He's a nice guy and deserves happiness.

when it rains

Now I'm talking to TWO men. TWO! and I'm not even drunk! and man #1, I just learned, likes Pho. he's making some points, that's for sure. I mean, he camps and likes pho? wow!

when it comes down to it, I guess I'm not really that picky after all, am I?

Wow! do a little (lot) bit of bitching...

So I was contacted yesterday by a man under 35 who seems very interesting. we'll see what happens.

Grr

I am feeling an overwealming animosity towards my printer today. I understand that it is old and tired, and that my company will not buy me a new one even though I need it for my job (Yeah. Document Control. What do they need printers for???) but I have to complain that every day it gets a little worse and since it's been a year since I wore out my last printer, i would like to hope that someone will recognise soon how much more efficiant I can be with a decent printer. you know, so I have plenty of time for blogging.

I may not be able to catch a 30 year old...

But apparently, I am some sort of Goddess to the over 40's. (not all over 40's, just the ones that hit on me. actually, all the men that hit on me are over 40)
I recieved a message on friendster this morning from a man, 43, who on paper looks really good. on picture, not so much (I can't help it, looks are important to me) so what I want to know, is, what is it about me that attracts men that are so much older? at 43, this guy has 15 years on me. that's a lot at my age. I mean, isn't there something inbetween the kitty video and the much older guy? This isn't just about internet dating. Rememer New Years (I'm still traumatized)??? and the guy in the Karaoke bar who wanted to be my chair? yeah. over 40, and that was like, 4 years ago so it's not that at 28 I am starting to look "mature".
I don't get it. Part of me is flattered, don't get me wrong. but truly, I don't see how they could be interested in a girl my age. I have a lot of growing up to do. I have very little attraction to men thier age. by very little , I mean, that it's rare that I feel an attraction to an older man. I am also not attracted to 20 year olds. They have too much growing up to do. In all honesty T is the only man my age who has hit on me in a very long time. and that was almost a year ago.
Will I respond to Friendster guy? I will because it's polite. He seems like a nice fellow and I think it would be an insult to his intelligence to ignore him. do I plan to date him? no. Maybe I will be surprised by life and eat my words later. But I doubt it.

This about sums it up

if you truly wonder who i am, Think this quote, from me to the fire chief I have been chatting with today sums it up better than I could ever have imagined when it flowed from my fingertips:

"I would like to think that the last thing I will be concerned about when I die is bills, but truly, I will likely feel guilty for leaving them for my family to pay when I am gone."

Shopping

This weekend, when I was at Ikea buying my new couch (see below) I found that my fellow shoppers and indeed the people who worked there were some of the most unfriendly people I have encountered. Now, we all get a little pissy when shopping, but I know that I always try to be extra polite to the staff because having worked in customer service, I know you can catch a lot of shit just for doing your job.
However, when I ordered my couch, the woman who helped me barely acknowlaged my presence and behaved as though I was inconvienecing her.( I walked up to her station where she wasn't doing anything and requested my furniture specifically. I was not a difficult customer) I don't think this is acceptable, but it was a busy sale weekend, who knows what she had been going through all day. then, at the register, I spoke to the cashier about the coffee table I wanted and how I couldn't lift itand since I was having the couch delivered anyway could I just pay (like I was with the couch) and have someone else pull the table? (generally, I don't buy anything I can't lift) Apparently not. Apparently there are people on the furiture floor to help, even though I didn't see one when I was over there. So I had to get out of line, and go find someone to help me. The cashier's attitude told me that he thought be pretty dumb for not knowing that. What would the store do if someone came along with an obvious physical disability?
Returning to the sales floor, I chased down a helper who pulled the table for me and, since it wouldn't fit under my cart, told me that I would need a flat cart for the item. Ok. So I went and got one. When I returned, my table was sitting on the floor, which meant that I would have to lift it in order to get it on the flat cart. Without the cart rolling away. Helper boy was gone. As I was mauvering it (it was a 4" lift, and I managed to get it that far) a woman happened by. She offered her help, although at that point I had it covered.
This was the first real kindness I had encountered that day. I told her so, and thanked her for her offer.
It was then that I learned that people from elsewhere find west coasters to be antisocial. That we have a reputation for having tunnelvision. This saddens me. I rarely talk to people because I am shy, but I have to say that when I do make a snarky comment in the grocery line, I am uaually ignored or greeted with strange looks. SO I have to admit that it is true. I guess I should come out of my social anxiety and do something about it. Start talking to people like my cousin Richard (maybe not that much!) and help to change this view. Not for my fellow natives, but for me. life's too short to be rude to people, it's too short to be a snob.

Meanwhile, Zube Girl says that people should try to be more like dogs. and I was thinking about that. I think she's right! who doesn't love a puppy? dogs love everyone. they sniff your hand, lick your fingers, and if you pet them, they'll love you for life (hey, maybe I am like a dog!) they don't care what you think of them, they don't worry about fitting in, of course, they also crap on the street, but it all boils down to, they are who they are and will be whether you like them or not. Just like children, everyone is their friend. I think we should all take a lesson from puppies and children.

Oh, now really.

Dear men on MySpace,
I am aware that one of the neat things on Myspace is that you get to change your template and add things in order to personalize it. I, too, have personalized my page, although just a little bit because I don't have those kind of skills. However I just wanted to let you know that if you are searching for Miss Right, you may not be as likely to find her if you have streaming video of a woman petting her kitty on your page. I'm not talking about the kind of kitty that goes "meow". Kitties that go "meow" actually attract women, while the other kind of kitty really should not go "meow" and if it does the woman with the meowing kitty needs to see a doctor because she's got something stuck in there.
I will admit that I appear to be vastly different from the other women on MySpace, mostly in that in comparing my picture to thiers, I have class. and if you are searching for a classless woman who posts half nakid pictures of some anorexic fashion model in hopes that you will think thats her, well then, I'm sorry that I stopped by. Please have fun with your suggestive photos, I am just going to go ahead and stick to my own page over here where there are suggestive bullitins, but no nakid pictures or video of women petting thier kitty.

Ps, dear readers, if the above description covers the men who I consider for dating, then I am perfectly happy to remain an extremely eligable bachelorette.

Very Excited

I bought my very first brand new couch this weekend! It's light green, very pretty, and I'm very excited about it. my first couch was a hand me down from my sister, the second one, a friend gave me. It cost me $15 to leave it at the dump. Have you ever been to the dump? let me build a mental picture.
the couch Tammy gave me was big enough that at 5'4", I could lay down on it without scrunching up too much. That made it about 6' with the arms. My CRV holds about 5', so you can imagine that when I loaded the couch up, it stuck out a bit. Although it was in pretty good shape, the thrift stores would not take it due to cat damage. I went to the dump, paid the entry fee and thanked goodness for all wheel drive. I reached the dumping spot, and got out of my car. I think I was the only woman there, and I was alone. All the present men (about 20 of them) turned to watch as I hauled the couch out of the back of my car and onto the ground. Their amusement was apparent. I don't like being watched and was very happy to leave.
But back to my new stuff. I also got a coffee table and my apartment is starting to look like a home. Like a big girl home, not a cluttered up junk filled space you can barely walk in. Mostly becuse all my clutter is still in boxes or in the office. However, the coffee table has little drawers that pull out and I was able to put my rocks in there. You can see them through the top. fancy.
that's all for now.

a conversation with my mom

Momi: I think I'm going senile. either that or I have too much on my mind.

Me: You aren't going senile, you haven't started eating your poo.

Momi: EEW!!!Do they do that?

Me:Yes

Momi: well then if I have a heart attack, just let me die. I am going to have Do not ressessitate tattooed on my chest just in case

ME: Do not ressesitate, I don't want to eat my poo?

Momi: ha ha ha! Yeah.

Thankfully, I'm pretty sure she means when she gets old, because, we went through this two weeks ago and it never occurred to me that she wouldn't want to be ressesitated, not that I had a choice, I wasn't there, they just smacked her back to life, but it is something to think about as our parents age.. Wow. I just took a really funny conversation into a not so funny place. I had better go talk to T about porn some more.

More Brainstorming with T

I came up with this idea, and T of course is running wild with it (he has volunteered to take the photos, All I would have to do is market them, whch would save my virgin eyes) so I need to know if there is a market for it. Please post your thoughts


X Rated Jigsaw puzzles. yay, or nay?

owee

So I exercized some more last night after I cleaned my whole house and did not start another puzzle or figure out my computer situation. which is good, because now I am counteracting all that movement with a Scor bar I bought yesterday along with my nylons, which I must say tastes a lot better than the twix I also bought.
So the point of my story is, that I think I pulled a muscle in my inner thighs because it hurts right there as if I got some, and got some GOOD, except that I didn't.
Yesterday I signed up for Dance classes like I have been saying that I am going to do for 3 years. In fact I stopped calling myself a belly dancer because I haven't been dancing. But last night, I put on those arabian rhythms, and circled my hips like someone was watching. I even pulled out my veil (the cute red paisly one) and swirled for awhile. I'm very proud of myself.
that scor bar was so good, it's gone now. Thankfully, because it is tofee, I can spend the rest of the mnorning removing it from me teeth, which makes it a longer lasting candy bar.

On another subject, I think I mentioned about a month ago that my father ad made contact. The real reason he made contact was because he wanted to borrow money, and he was asking my mom because for some reason (could be the fancy job and the lexus) people think she has some. She really doesn't, although she probably has more than me. I don't know, it's not my business. So, because she can't tell him no, and because we both have hope that he will heal himself into the person that we know he can be, she loaned it to him. then, we didn't hear from Daddy anymore. Until yesterday, when he called her to tell her he had her money and could pay her back now. He also has a PO box. And someone keeps calling the bubble phone and hanging up when I answer. He also has his own cell phone and is currently living in a hotel until he gets a job. I want to hope that this means he really is cleaning up his life, but like I told my Aunt Valerie, if he wants a relationship with me, he's going to have to chase me around for awhile. I have tried enough. Sad to say that about your father, but I've shown up at his house too many times only to have him gone/not answer the door/ send me away because he's "sick" (high).

See, now that's funny

I have a GMail account. I use it for business. Ususlly, there is junk mail from my vendors in there. Occationally I get spam. like one every couple of weeks which is about how often I check in there.

Today, I noticed for the very first time, that there was a Spam recipe in my spam box. courtesy of GMail. it's really difficult to see if you aren't paying attention, and really, I don't eat spam (I don't like spam!!) but I still thought it was clever to put a spam recipe in my spam mail box. maybe it's just me.

More quotes from my boss (regarding hair)

"Gina! I just realized that I am going to have to start shaving my belly! The hairs are poking through my shirt! I went outside and i was like, Whoa! where'd those come from??"

"If your eyebrows are starting to look like pubic hairs, you need to do something about it"

Amen, Dean. Amen.

ooh. That's naughty

Lindsay Lohan has finally admitted that she is not only Bulimic, but she has also experimented with drugs. Hollywood, by nature, breeds starlets with eating disorders, so I am not going to go into a tirade about how she should love her voluptuous body and all that because frankly, if people were constantly taking my picture and anylizing my waistline (or in her case, boobs) I would likely develop an eating disorder too. and, how many people do you know who, at 19, have not tried some sort of illegal drug? I know I did. But that's another story.
What does get me riled is that she denied it. Who's going to believe that shit? "Oh, no, I don't hve an eating disorder, I have just been eating more healthy. My body is supposed to look skeletal" or, in the immortal words of Kate Moss, who insisted that she did not have an eating disorder, "I just don't like food". They must really think we're stupid.Humans like food. we need food, it's called life, deal with it. Anyone with a high school education can see when someone has a bit of an eating problem. Illness (and yes, I know this is an illness, I'm talking about cancer and flu type illness) notwithstanding, skeletal people have something wrong with them. I grew up in the 80's with pictures of starving Ethiopian children on newsbreaks during Saturday Morning Cartoons (right before Cal Worthington and his pussy cow, oh fooktactular one). I know what hunger looks like, and Lindsay, (and Nicole) you are it. Quit lying, eat something, get some counseling, we'll still love you.

So I discussed this with my boss, who suggested that perhaps these people are being sustained by love. I told him that while love may have some nutricious value, that isn't likely to sustain human life. When he got the gist of what I was saying, he shut up really quick. I love grossing out my boss.

In the meantime, I am having nylon issues today and I am really cranky about it. Once size does not fit all and if they can't make some that can resist a hangnail then I don't think I should be expected to wear the fucking things.

Went swimming for exercize last night. Yeah. Couldn't pull a 200. I am ashamed. But I will keep on swimming for exercize because it's good for me and will shrink my ass. I didn't, by the way, buy the scale. yet.

I am a computer genius! ok, not really. I did hook up my home pc last night. both of them, actually. with a kvm switch. One of the computers works!! (the other one may not have actually been fixed after it went to sick bay. I will be checking it out tonight as long as I don't get wrapped up in another puzzle) It turns on, but that appears to be it. Could be that the kvm switch doesn't work right. Could be that I am just pretending to be computer literate. If not for Mike, (see sidebar. He's Norbert's owner.) I wouldn't know what a kvm switch is.

Since I have been bitching about everything today, my boss has labeled me "Nag with a snag" he's funny.

Last night, I had oatmeal for dinner. I made up a rhyme about it. it went like this:

Oatmeal,
Goatmeal,
Scroatmeal... eew. Oatmeal will never be the same. the picture that conjures is REALLY nasty. blah. and now all of you will think of scroatmeal when you have oatmeal and, ha ha ha ha ha!

Probably not

So, I keep getting these offers in my email to buy property in Costa Rica for 25K, and while it's certainly tempting to know that I could own a piece of this lovely country, somehow i don't trust it. Mostly, because althoughI hear they love Americans down there, I am not a citizen of that country. and I know that in Mexico, Americans can't really own land. and if they think they do, the government can take it away if they want to. I don't think that's a bad thing, I just see that as a warning to perhaps not buy land in forign countries. especially ones where I don't speak the language. especially ones where they are selling land via spam. But I would like to visit Costa Rica. I have to get my passport first. and keep reminding myself not to try and pick up the frogs even though they are cute and colorful.

Meanwhile, when I went over to te house to mark my stuff for the Salvation Army (with paper, not pee), it was all under a ginormous tarp with the landlords stuff. SO I had to cancel the pick up. and I had to talk to the landlady. We were nice to each other. I still would rather not seek her company. And I have to go back over there today when I just want to go home and get back to my puzzle.

Puzzles are evil attention keepers.

I am going to start back up on my exercize program tonight! yup! I'm done coughing, so I'll be in the pool swimming my hiney off. cuz, you know, it's getting kind of big. And I figure all that mucous still in my system, well, the filter will get it. eew. And I think I may also pick up a scale and keep it in front of the fridge. so I have to step on it to get to the cookies in the feezer. you know, the thin mints from last Girl Scout campaign. I'm kinda sick of thin mints now. shouldn't have bought 17 boxes. But Emily got her duffle bag! which made her a way cool girl scout and me the best aunt ever! ok maybe not ever. but close.

Another conversation with my boss

B: I just dropped my ball!

Me: hee hee, does that mean your balls finally dropped?? HAHAHAHA!

B: I can't get it! (belly is too big to reach it under his desk)

Me: What ball?

B:The one I had ahold of(as he reached for the broom to retrieve his ball)

Me: Oh! Your mouse ball! I was trying to figure out what kind of ball you were holding over there!

B: GINA!

Me: HAHAHAHAHA!

too much fun. more in a bit.

How was I supposed to answer??

New Years was, interesting. Opted for the friend in Riverside. There was one (one) single man there (Eddie doesn't count, he's like my brother). He was in his 40's and really not my type. I'm going to stop the story right here and put out the disclaimer that I had a lot to drink. I intended to only have a little, but I don't like to be a party pooper and so when the drinking game called for shots, I had shots. (back to the story) Apparently, I fell for the oldest trick in the book when 40 year old asked if he could stand with me and kiss me at midnight. I was thinking a kiss along the lines of on the cheek or maybe quick peck on the mouth at most. I was not expecting 40 year old to stick his tounge in my mouth. And Me, being drunk and surprised, kissed back. When I realized what I was doing, I quickly removed myself from the situation at hand, and "oh my! there's something on the floor I need to pick up right now" (blah, blah, eew) and when I stood up, the conversation went like this:

40yrold: wow you're a great kisser, where did you learn to kiss like that?

Me: Uh, lots of practice?? (eew, EEW)

Thankfully, Eddie happened by at that moment, and I was able to cleanse myself by kissing his cheek, then W and twin happened by and they helped the process by planting one on my smacker, but I'm still icked out despite telling myself that I behaved no worse that a night in TJ (actually better because I didn't freak with anyone) .

Meanwhile, I woke up with a headache and neck ache, which I attributed to sleeping on the floor, but realized last night that it was from head banging to AC/DC. oops. oh well, it's feeling much better today.

Also, while I don't really make resolutions, I have resolved to try to do the following:

Stop thinking of myself in negative, depressing terms such as "Spinster" and "Old Maid" and start thinking of myself as a highly eligeable bachelorette. I mean, men can be eligeable bachelors and it's a good thing (I remember JFK Jr being referred to as this before he married). In fact it makes them more desireable, right? So I think I deserve better than to think I am not desireable. and I encourage all my single lady friends to see themselves the same way. We and not refuse, we are not wasted, we just haven't chosen which of many men we want to grace with our permenant presence. So there.