Well, it's decision-making time, and we all know how poorly I operate under those conditions. I just viewed the little wooden house that my shrink referred me to. The location is good, the neighborhood's alright, the rent is reasonable, but god, that place is so small. It makes my current digs look like a palatial suite. Where I live now is just under 700 square feet, and I think that house is about 500, or less. I think I had studio apartments that size in the past, and I had far less stuff back then. There's no way I could cram myself, all my crap, and three cats into that house. I can't envision it. Too bad. I was looking forward to living in a residential neighborhood where I could jog and walk the dogs, and living in a stand-alone house with windows on all sides for a cross-breeze (this place only has windows on one side, which sucks). Plus the house has a claw-foot tub. But in addition to being so little overall, there was very little closet and cabinet space -- I wouldn't be scoring in that regard. I was hoping there would be lots of closets and built-in shelving, like that. Oh well. It's easier overall to just stay where I am. The rent would be about the same anyway, and truth be told, I'm not up to the task of moving, either emotionally or financially.
Another thing about the house, it didn't appear to be built very well. The door and window frames were crooked and the carpet, while new, had an inch-wide gap along all the walls. And the kitchen had some gawd-awful linoleum, gag. Things like that matter to me. Oh, and NO dishwasher! Eeeeeeeee! There was a single professor living in a garage apartment in the back, and I was told repeatedly that he "keeps an eye on things." I don't need some busybody motherfucker minding my business, you know? He could be perfectly nice, but still.
Newpeep = Knucklehead, with a capital KNUCK. I was in a blind, screaming panic earlier, late for my 10:00 class due to a stalled vehicle on the freeway. Then when I reported to the classroom, there was nobody there and no notification of a changed location. WTF? I found a computer and printed off my schedule (which I hadn't bothered to bring with me), and guess what. My class doesn't start until noon.
Knucklehead.
Which is a nice way of saying, Dumbass.
Tuesday, May 31, 2005, 8:50 AM
It was hard to write to Roger because I'm so sick of the subterfuge, you know? But he's my parents' friend so I don't feel comfortable spilling everything. Roger's sort of sensitive and I think he would take it hard, losing his admiration for this fictitious figure that is my father. I'd just as soon let him keep his delusions.
I was working out at the campus gym late one evening when the staff came on the PA to announce the imminent closure of the facilities. The guy said, "Greetings, Earthlings ..." That really tickled my funnybone and I laughed and laughed, but nobody else did. I guess I found it so funny because out in the "professional" world nobody has any fun like that, it's all straight.
Oh, except for one time, it was after five o'clock at my old job and a male cow-irker brought in his toddler son, who was very cute and just learning to talk. The guy handed his son over to his friend, the department secretary, for her to watch while he had to take care of something. The secretary picked up the PA and said to the kid, "Say 'daddy'!" and the kid goes, over the PA, "Daddeeee?" That was funny and so cute. That particular secretary was a pain in the ass, but she could be funny sometimes.
Monday, May 30, 2005, 10:03 AM
Sure as shootin', my bro called today. I was in bed and didn't get the phone, but in his message he said I could go over there. Nah, I don't think so. Much as I'd like to see everyone, I've got a lot to do in this apartment, especially since the weather cooled down.
I see faces everywhere, where everyone else sees only splotches or random patterns. I see faces in wallpaper, wood grains, etc. Right now there's a bunch of dried dog snot on my living room window and I see the face of Yoda. Isn't that a gas?
I think people think I'm curt on the phone. I don't like speaking on the phone and what I hate is hanging on the line after both parties have determined the conversation is over. I just say, "aiight, talk to ya later, 'bye," and hang up. I guess that's from my days as a secretary.
In his email, Roger said he was "amazed at my recollection." I know my parents wish I didn't remember so much. I often let them know little innocuous things I remember from my early years; my way of saying that I haven't forgotten the things they did, as much as they were hoping. Roger also said that, since he was missing his daughter, I reminded him how sweet little girls are. You know, I *was* a sweet little girl. I just don't understand why I had to have such a pervert for a father; why I'll never know what it's like to have a normal, loving, non-sexual, affectionate father-daughter relationship.
I'm finding it difficult to write back to Roger now.
Sunday, May 29, 2005, 10:08 AM
Went to see Madagascar last night. It was cute, although it didn't live up to the enthusiastic review in the paper. I felt the jokes were pat and predictable a lot of times. But I really liked the voices; I love Chris Rock and David Schwimmer too. I hope Schwimmer's career transcends "Friends." He's almost exactly my age, born just ten days after me. We're practically kin. *snort* Anyway, I got a big-ass, mudda-fuggin Coke at the theater and it didn't really taste that good, and it kept me up for all hours.
Don't have anything planned for today. I really should do some cleaning and I want to do dolly stuff too. Gonna work on that doll that's killing me -- I'd like to get her outta here.
6:43 PM
Took a nap. It's stinkin' hot. Looks like rain. I wish it would, already.
I decided not to work on that doll that's eluding me but instead move on to other projects. No point in being stubborn and forcing it.
Get a load of this: my SIL told my mom via email that I'll be going over to their (bro and SIL's) house for Memorial Day. When my mom said that, I was like, "I yam?" So I phoned bro's house day-before-yesterday and left a message and no one's called me back. WTF? They're pretty good about inviting me to things at moments' notice. Tomorrow, I've got things to do; I'm not going over there -- if they call me at all, that is. I'm sick of always being available for people.
Used the epilator on my legs earlier today. Hope I don't get ingrown hairs, but lately after shaving I've been getting nasty rashes for reasons that escape me. It cracks me up that right after epilating, my legs look like freshly-plucked gooseflesh.
You know something I really hate? When I get an idea for a doll makeover and I don't get to it for a while, I see it on eBay -- someone beat me to it. Have you noticed that everyone gets similar ideas at roughly the same time? It's uncanny.
Something happened to me, where I unintentionally did a doll very similar to one done by an artist whose work I respect and admire. Worse yet, I gave my doll the same name as hers. Very poor form, and I'm embarassed. I guess my subconscious tucked it away and after a couple of days I thought it was my idea. :-( I wrote the artist an apology. I still can't believe I chose the same damn name.
The past few days I've been pretty good about avoiding Coke, and it's funny how fast the flab leaves me when I abstain. But I'm totally off the wagon right now; I'm dyin' for a big-ass, mother-fucking Coke. I think I'm gonna go see Madagascar at the movies because I love animated flicks, often more than live-action ones. And slurp, slurp slurp!! "Light on the ice, please!" (Room for more Coke that way.) (What the fuck have they put in that shit anyway, to make it so addictive?)
Oh, in his email, Roger said that his daughter, who's my age, has been married three times and has four children, all by different men. Holy shit! I thought I was a mess! One divorce? That's nuthin'! I only met her once, when we were 13, and I remember not feeling too fond of her. I think we washed up together and she made fun of my precocious amount of pubic hair. Or did we use the bathroom at the same time or ... well, I don't remember. It wasn't my intention to grow my pubes so early, shit. Then when I was 18 or so, I saw a picture of her and she was really fucking beautiful. I mean, gorgeous. She was a cheerleader. It surprises me that her life has been so disappointing, and I'm sad for her. Makes me grateful for my opportunities.
Eh, I didn't do no more cleaning yesterday; I read instead and went to sleep relatively early. I have to take piccies of my dolly for auction soon while there's still a bit of morning haze out. But before I go anywhere I have to take at least a ho bath, damn I'm smelly. But right now I'm sipping my coffee and watching Newman play on the clean carpet. At the VA office on campus they hired some dope and put him in charge of it all and already he's losing staff. He wants to rearrange the furniture. Yeah, like a tomcat pissing on his territory. Whatever, I'm just there to use the computer. 11:29 AM Oh, forgot to write that the "inspector" never did show up yesterday. Can probably expect them Tuesday. Went to take pics of my dolly and outside there's a little feral kitten. He's gorgeous, pewter gray with green/gray eyes. I tried and tried to catch him but was unsuccessful. I'm having a quick bite to eat and then I'm gonna go back outside with some tuna to see if my luck will change. He's too beautiful and sweet to be left outside like that. Someone will surely want him. When I was a little kid in Germany, my dad brought over an army buddy of his, Roger. Roger's a very nice gentleman and he became a family friend. When my family moved to BFE, Roger moved there too at about the same time, so we visited from time to time. After three years or so, Roger got transferred elsewhere and we haven't seen much of him since, except for the rare occasion he can visit. Roger took my family to see Star Wars when I was 10 and that movie held me transfixed. I had some questions about that viewing: I seem to recall that when we saw the movie, it hadn't yet been released; it wasn't released nationwide until the following summer. Well anyway, Roger was very glad to hear from me and he wrote me this long gushy email. One of the things he said was how much he admired my father. Huh, I wonder if Roger would still feel that way if he knew that his buddy messed around with his own daughter. I'm gonna write Roger back, but don't worry, I won't spill the beans. Far be it for me to rock the boat. Within the past year or two I had a dream that Roger was visiting my parents and we were all sitting at the table for dinner. For some reason I became enraged and started screaming at my mom about how HE, and I pointed at my father, molested me. Everyone sat, stunned, and then Roger arose and left the house. I understood in the dream that my parents had a lot to lose. This past visit, my mom said something to the effect that she doesn't delve down deeply into her feelings and memories. "It's not good to stir things up," she said. Of course that's her modus operandi -- if she gave her life decisions any conscious thought she'd probably explode. Stayed with a pervert, the man who molested her only daughter? Nice. I wish I was a bastard. Sometimes I still hope that I am. After all, I don't see much of my dad in me; my brow and forehead look like my maternal grandfather, and the rest of my face looks like my maternal grandmother. I remember my mom saying to me once that she's never slept with anyone but my dad. That's so wrong and such a lie. I know that they used to engage in wife-swapping when I was a kid. My dad told me, and that's the only time he stopped messing around with me. Well, let's go see if we can catch that lil' kitty-cat. 12:34 PM Gottdammit, gottDAMMit! I had that little motherfucker in my *hands*! He scratched and bit but still I hung on. Then I scruffed him and was carrying him over to where I'd left my bag. I put him in the bag and before I could zip it, he spied a gap and was gone. Gone. Just like that. I went ahead and left because there's no way he'll come to me now. All I've got to show for my efforts is a new collection of battle wounds and ant bites. I'm so mad at myself. I feel like such an idiot. 5:19 PM Can't find any disks to use to transport the pics of my doll. Crap. Without photos there can be no auction. I had a bunch of zip disks and I don't know where they all went. Just went to Best Buy and they don't even sell them anymore, just writable CD's. Well, my dinosaur computer isn't capable of writing to CD's. What to do, what to do. Oh, my shrink put me in touch with a friend of hers who's renting a little house. I spoke to the realtor today and I should go view it Monday or Tuesday. Rents for only forty bucks more than I'm paying now, and it's in a cool part of town. Fingers crossed, fingers crossed. Wasn't that great of my shrink? Shows you she must think well of me, or she wouldn't have stuck her neck out. 6:28 PM Found a zip disk! Schweet! Zippety do-daa, zippety-day ...
I was up at about eight, cleaning cleaning cleaning. I rearranged the living room furniture for good measure. Place still has some trouble spots but looks tons better. I can actually sit on the floor. I don't think the cats are happy to have their debris disturbed. The place was so bad that six hours cleaning was spent on the living room alone. I still have to do the rest of the apartment. I think I'll do the kitchen this evening. God I stink, but I figured there's no point in becoming fresh and clean for housekeeping. My shirt was soaked through at one point, as if I'd gone running. I took a nap during the hottest part of the day, from about two to six.
I think one of my dollies is turning out okay; I need money. I've got one AA doll that I've been working on for months and she just doesn't want to come together. Got the brows and the mouth, but those eyes are killing me. And I'm crampy and my bladder hurts because I haven't drunk enough water. Gahhhhh. What a grouch. I clipped all the kitties' nails. Missy was surprisingly good about it; it's Peep who objects the most. Week's gone already and school starts this Tuesday.
Ugh, crampy. That must be why I've been so tired and befuddled these past couple of days, regardless of how much I slept. Hope the coffee does its magic.
The optical shop has dicked around with my new glasses since March and they still haven't gotten it right. We finally determined that the frames I had brought in were the problem; apparently they were made for sunglasses and not for prescription wear. I didn't know there was a difference, and they sell the Oakley brand too. I think it's bullshit, but I went ahead and bought a new pair of frames from there. I don't think I care for them as well, but shit, I need new glasses. My current frames have bitten the dust. I can't even get rid of the empty frames because the staff scratched the shit out of them, taking them apart and putting them together a million times. They must have bad karma, being from Shay and all. Anyway, needless to say, I won't be going to that optical shop again.
The kitty cats are so hot. I've never seen a cat panting before. While panting makes dogs look friendly, it makes cats look crazy. I let them out on the balcony but they can't be there unsupervised; Missy would likely go after a bug and leap off, and from the third floor the outcome wouldn't be good. Missy is the least intelligent of the three, I think. I'm a little pissed off at her too, because she chewed the hand of one of the dolls I'm working on. Luckily I have a matching body to swap with, but still.
My dolly buddy said that one of my repaints looks like Paris Hilton. Crap. I'll never be able to look at the doll the same way again.
Gottdammit, fucking Missy just gouged the shit out of my leg.
12:36 PM
Goddamn apartment management sent around a letter notifying us that they're entering our apartments tomorrow. Nothing pisses me off more, knowing those fuckers can enter my home whenever they fucking feel like it. Part of it comes from a feeling of powerlessness stemming from first, my upbringing, and secondly, the military, where there was NO privacy whatsoever. And of course, it is true that I've got something to hide: my mess and my cats, which I'm not supposed to have. I fucking hate apartments and busybody managers. They used to leave us the hell alone.
I had a horrible dream last night. I had a history teacher in eight grade, Mrs. Cowan, who, appropriate to her name, was a serious cow. No passion in her teaching, no love for her students--you could tell she just wanted her summers off. Vacant yet disdainful eyes and a slightly insideous smile. Well, I dreamed she was my biology teacher and something happened where I didn't know something was due and I'd been out a few days and she wouldn't let me turn something in, I dunno. It was a lot more diabolical in the dream. I was very upset and I started screaming at her in the classroom and telling her what I thought about her, and I stopped going to her class. The dream went on and on. I got an F in biology. I was a college student but I was on a junior high campus. Just weird.
Yesterday I went to see a dolly buddy and we yakked all day long. It was a good visit, but at the end I was so exhausted, especially since it's an hour drive each way. I crashed at about nine, which is very early for me, and slept until about eight this morning. Got an appointment with my shrink at ten so I need to hustle.
Saw Episode III last night, just because it's obligated viewing. Although I still felt it was tedious at times, it was still okay. Roger Ebert was right when he said the dialogue was crap. Even seasoned, respected actors, like Samuel L. Jackson and Jimmy Smits, came off sounding stilted. And by the way, Jimmy Smits still looks *fine*. Christopher Lee's part was brief, but does he have a voice or what? I didn't get any sense of the undying love between Padime and Anniken. Padime's part was reduced to that of hand-wringing, stay-at-home senator. But still, there was a sense of satisfaction and closure at the end. If it's true that there's going to be more installments, I hope Lucas stays out of the script-writing and directing. "General Grievous"? That's a villain's name written by a third-grader.
Late for an appointment at the VA. Blah. But I had to have my coffee, don'tcha know.
11:50
Stopped by the campus on the way back from the VA to use the 'puter. Tried to get some color photos of Vivien Leigh that clearly show her eyes. God you have to wade through a lot of shit on the net. Anyway, a dolly buddy wants me to paint one of her dolls with green eyes like Leigh's.
Also went to the campus gym to retrieve the stuff from my locker, which had been cleaned out and put in storage. I was pleased to find that they didn't charge me for the storage.
Stopped by another dolly buddy's house on the way back from my folks yesterday evening, and it was good to see her.
Boring post. I'm hungry and my brain doesn't work on an empty stomach.
Just got back from four days visiting my folks, and damn my apartment is a freakin' oven. The A/C crapped out, which I discovered on the day I left, so I had to leave it off. I cracked a couple of windows and left the ceiling fan on in the bedroom but that was all I could do. And then of course we had record-breaking high temperatures. Poor kitties. They seem to be just fine. Didn't run out of food or water and the three big litter boxes were put to good use.
Andy slept wedged tight against me every night I was there. And when I left today it was awful, he cried and barked and tried to break away to chase my car. I started to cry. My baby, I love him so much. Phoebe appeared to take things in stride better. She's totally in love with my dad.
Ooooh, I just checked my grades online and that bitch who was my German teacher gave me a B-. BEEYOTCH!
Having my morning coffee to ward off a fierce headache. The other day I didn't have my coffee and the resulting headache liked to o' killed me. I actually watered the plants yesterday. I'm such a bad mommy, I pretty much ignore my plants and then they, of course, die. Had to admire my Chinese evergreen, though. I picked it up to toss it out and saw that it was still kickin'. So I cleared away all the dead leaves and watered it and we'll see what happens. Far be it for me to deprive it of a chance to live.
The hot coffee made me sweat buckets. Time to turn on the A/C.
Yesterday I was at the VA from 9 a.m. until 4 p.m. That's the longest waiting time I've ever experienced. It's scary. Thank goodness I'd taken some Aleve before I left the house or the pain would have been miserable. Had a surprisingly delicious, albeit pricey, lunch at the canteen: country cooking, with a sausage, pinto beans, mashed potatoes and peach cobbler.
Slept hard last night and late into the morning; I really needed it.
I'm prolly gonna drive up to see the folks tomorrow. I could use some good feeding and I'm looking forward to seeing the dogs. I really miss them.
Gotta do something about this apartment and also try to take care of the admissions crap for the community college. Busy day.
Fuck I'm gonna miss Mike, that deep sexy voice and that yummy mouth. I know I already said that.
3:39 PM
Damn, went for a run and must have not replaced my fluids well enough because my bladder's hurting again. Ate a can of Campbell's chicken and dumpling soup (those weren't no dumplings) and now I'm pouring sweat. Man. But I may as well get used to it because I'm gonna be sweating all day. The cats aren't going to know which end is up because I'm gonna be running all kinds of machines. Bought some cleaning supplies at Tarjez, including a pair of gloves. You know your mess is bad if even you won't touch it. But last night I dreamed my place was sparkling clean and I had people over. (Whoa, imagine that.)
I was reflecting as I was jogging, or walking, whatever the case may be, that I wasted a lot of time feeling bad about myself. Like, if I had a bad run, like today, if I got overheated or whatever, I felt like a complete failure, a "nonhacker," and I'd get all depressed. Gawd. Nowadays I'm like, "that's okay, it's good that I got some exercise." Life's too short to beat yourself up, to try to live up to some impossible standard.
Called Cheryl to let her know I'll be in town so we can visit. She's having some trouble with her partner because she, the partner, can't seem to keep a job. I hope they work things out; they've been together 16 years. She and I had a lively conversation. She's awesome. Talking to her, though, made me remember that there was a time when I was seventeen that I thought I might be pregnant. I fairly burst into song when my period came, boy howdee. My parents would have fucking kicked me out. Anyway, if I had been pregnant, the child would now be Mike's age. And he/she would have been half Hispanic too. Oi. :-T I think that's the last time I mess around with someone who's not of my own generation, but it was fun while it lasted.
Tomorrow before I drive up to the folks', or on the way, I've got a lot of running around to do. Ugh.
Put some music on and get to work, girl.
6:12 PM
Wheezing. Stirring up all this dust triggers my asthma. :-P
9:10 PM
Can't say the place looks "better," but I do see some progress.
May 16, 2005, 9:00 a.m.
I'm gonna be here all gottdamn day. Gotta love the VA, but of course medicine with the HMO system has degenerated to this level. I relish the prospect of waiting five hours to be seen and five more hours for my antibiotics. I hope the Aleve holds out or I'm gonna be hurtin'. There's a guy in here who looks like Morgan Freeman from a distance. Is he researching his next role? Undoubtedly he already knows what it feels like to hurry up and wait.
Gotta find a new place to live. I think I'll try moveforfree.com. Most likely it'll just be another apartment and not some funky little stand-alone house like I was hoping. If it's gonna be another apartment, it might be worth considering staying where I am. I could easily do worse; I'm on the top floor and there's no footsteps on my head. There's no storage, though, no place to put all my crap.
Maybe I should have grabbed a bite to eat but I was puking last night so I didn't want to risk it. Mike called me while I was worshipping the porcelain god. Calling Ralph on the porcelain phone. Heh heh heh. But throwing up is anything but funny to the sick person. Anyway, phone rang and I was like, "I'm indisposed!" I returned his call and he and I agreed to call it off. Areas of incompatibility: long-term relationship projection--he's already searching for a spouse and I most certainly ain't; he wants kids and even if I did, my child-bearing years are drawing to a close; he's a Republican--gahhhh! and wants to run for public office...I hate politics and vote Democrat; religion: he's a practicing Christian. So in all the major categories, strike, strike and strike. Not to mention that his mom hates me, that sort of seals the deal. I only regret that we didn't have sex, but it would be best if he waited until he was in a more suitable relationship. He and I sure generated a lot of heat in our makeout session, but I'm not interested in being the proverbial older woman who breaks him in and shows him the ropes. Funny how such a seemingly little factor makes such a huge difference. Kinda like in American Beauty in the makeout scene between Mena Suvari and Kevin Spacey--it changed everything.
Besides, I've sworn off sex, at least the penetration aspects of it. The way I get these godforsaken bladder infections, it's not worth it. It's not worth the biggest orgasm ever. I threw away my toy, expensive as it was. Every time I've been in a relationship, my gynecological problems always put a damper on my desire. I should be grateful not to be obligated in that respect.
I hate the way these people don't think a bladder infection is an emergency. People who came after me are being seen first.
I couldn't take it anymore when I saw blood in my urine this morning. It hurt so bad and I started crying. I feel somehow persecuted, like I'm not allowed my sexuality by some higher power, like I'm being punished. Newman jumped on my lap and comforted me. He's so darling.
Call my name! "Newpeep." Say it! "Newpeep." Bah.
2:00 p.m.
Still heeeeerrrrre. I thought I was exaggerating when I said five hours. Word has it that the pharmacy is far behind too. Hmm, while I'm waiting for the pharmacy, maybe I'll go to the chapel to nap, uh, I mean, to pray.
I've never seen so many wheelchairs in my life, or stumps or sores either. The staff here is overwhelmed. Damn, man, button your shirt--disco is dead! Chest hair hanging out, "I'm sho shexy." Ugh, you wish.
I'm gonna miss Mike's sexy deep voice. It was funny, some of the things he felt insecure about, like his lack of facial hair. I guess it bothered him that he looked so young, younger than he actually was. He also seemed to feel conflicted about his Hispanic surname. Neither of those aspects bothered me any. I thought "Newpeep Rivera" sounded pretty good. ;o)
Got to the VA medical center at 7 a.m. because my bladder was really hurting (you know what bladder infections feel like? needles up your urethra). The person on duty said that what I have is not an emergency and to come back for triage at 9:30, two and a half hours later. Nice. Thanks. So I drove to Walmart, got some kitty litter, used the bathroom there a couple of times and now I'm home. I'm not driving all the way back to the medical center as I'm nearly out of gas and can't be bothered anyway. I bought several containers of cranberry juice so we'll see what happens. My bladder feels better than it did.
I also bought a feeder for the cats for when I visit my folks, probably this week. And an extra litter pan too. I don't like feeders, they let the food go stale. But I couldn't think of an alternative. Not having friends has its disadvantages.
Saw the current GQ magazine at Walmart with Hayden Christensen on the cover. Cutie-pie. Mike actually looks a lot like him. Full lips I could suck on forever. Slurp.
My electric boyfriend is going in the garbage. I've got another bladder infection. So what if I'm not having "real" sex, the mechanics are the same. It ain't worth it. Nothing I hate worse than bladder infections, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. I took some calcium supplements because supposedly making the urine alkaline is inhospitable to bacteria. It has soothed the sting. We'll see.
I sold something to a lady in Germany because I needed the money right away. Well, after she agrees to buy it, she then tells me that I'll have to wait four to five days for full payment. That pissed me off. So I received full payment last week, which was the week of finals and all that, so I didn't get back in touch with her for three days. She's already squawking about wanting her purchase *right away*. Fuck her.
Eduard was going down on me once and he kept going for the very tip of my clit, which is far too sensitive for that. I need a more "roundabout" approach. It got to the point where I was over stimulated, couldn't take it anymore and I told him to stop. Damn, he got so mad at me. God I'm so sick of my orgasmic ability--or lack thereof--being a contest, a sort of measurement of a man's prowess.
I must be cranky. I know I haven't slept well these last three nights.
Bored. Got plenty of things I *should* do but I'm playing with the idea of seeing a dumb movie. Although Jennifer Lopez pains me beyond belief, I want to see Jane Fonda since I've never seen her on the big screen. I just finished reading her autobiography and I've gained an admiration for her, plus a feeling of empathy stemming from common experiences as women. I don't think I've seen any of her movies except for 9 to 5 when it came on T.V. years ago. Not sure why I even saw that one; my dad must have been out of the house. He's banned any viewing of Jane Fonda movies because he hates her guts. Well he's an asshole and he hates any strong woman. He also hates Hilary Clinton and Oprah.
Yeah, I've decided that the next time Mike and I are face-to-face, we're going to end it officially. I'm not going to offer him any farewell sex either, in the interest of protecting myself. I don't want to end up feeling used (I've had more than my share of being used by 20-year-olds and I prefer to leave that well in the past). Tail can be had anywhere and I'm sure Mike won't have any trouble in that regard. He already knows it's over anyway, I could hear a touch of indifference in his voice.
I had a dream last night that Joe, the UPS guy, enveloped me in a big, comforting hug. Joe's very tall with glasses and a nice smile, and he's got a teddy-bear belly. It was one of those things I remembered during the day and I had to contemplate for a second whether or not it really happened.
10:15 PM
Just came back from seeing Monster-in-Law. I really enjoyed it, surprisingly. It's true that "J-Lo" can't act her way out of a paper bag, despite her false eyelashes and nappy extensions. And the guy was just a token role. But Jane Fonda as Viola, and her assistant, sorry, I can't remember the actress' name, but they were priceless. There were some real guffaws, not something I experience much anymore. I hope to see more of Jane Fonda, but I think the only thing Lopez did well was fall off the couch. The ending of the movie was pat and predictable but hell, they had to wrap it up after 110 minutes. Good show.
By the way, Mike's a staunch Republican. I could see if I get a rise out of him by mentioning Jane Fonda, but he's probably too young. ;o)
Oh alright, Mike called. Had to dash out of the computer lab since cells are verbotin. We spoke for about eight minutes, lots of silences in between. I'd like for us to get together so we can speak in person about "significant" things, but although I asked if we could get together, he didn't suggest a specific time. Well, whatever. I've got better things to do than sweat this.Hey, check this out. Don't you think "J-Lo" needs to get the fuck over herself? It's just a movie premier, for chrissakes. All you have to do is smile and wave. Say it with me: "smile and wave." 
Sitting in the community college lab for possibly the last time since the semester is over. Some thoughts occurred to me since I wrote last (five minutes ago) (oh, alright, about an hour ago). You know how sometimes someone says something and the full implication doesn't sink in until after the fact? Well, based on something he said last time we were together, Mr. Mike must be working on his next candidate as we speak. Our last meeting had an odd air of finality about it, or so I thought I read in his eyes--looking back on it of course. I wasn't pissed before but I yam now. I don't need to be played, and he knows that. Just be straight with my sorry ass.At least I got my fifty bucks for my textbook; I feel rich.
My coffee's a bit on the weak side but I'm too lazy to roast any more right now. Slept in a bit today. I have to get to the community college bookstore before they close at midday to sell my book back if I want to get 50%. Afterward it'll be only 25%. How stupid and arbitrary! But I could use da cash. I didn't get a gottdamn nickel back for my books at the university. >:-[
So. I left Mike a voice mail over 24 hours ago and I haven't heard a peep back, which is not like him. Is he gonna dump me by default? If he tries I'll let him have it. I'm more or less over the situation after having a couple of nights to sleep on it. Y'know? WHATever.
Kittycats are so precious. I'm going to scrub my motherfucking apartment starting today. Took my last final yesterday and feel I did well on it, which is good because I need something to bring up my grade. Funny how what seems to be easy and common-sense before the exam flies out of my head during the exam.
I just love this site:Chick on cell: I don't know if it's his complete lack of direction in life or his total depression, but I find him like soooo freaking hot.-
--110th & Broadway
Overheard by: djlindee
10:47 AM
One thing that's sweet about Mike is his sense of empathy. He asked about what I was like in high school, ugh. So I told him the truth, that I was a friendless, spiritless shell drifting from class to class, wishing I was invisible, treading water until I got my diploma so I could finally get the fuck out of there. I looked in his eyes and saw genuine concern and pathos. Not that I want or need anyone to feel sorry for me, but he was in sharp contrast to the indifference I've encountered in others ["Who cares what your life was like back then? Get over it, it's over. Let's fuck."]
Anyway, I forgot where I was going with that. I left a message for Mike to call me back.
That statement of his mom's, "I want a daughter-in-law, not a shopping buddy," strikes me as a very odd thing to say. I surmise that she wants someone she can control and influence and knows that it wouldn't happen with someone my age. Not to mention that I'm not of suitable stock. I kinda feel like that stable hand who had a relationship with the princess until the queen intervened and put a hasty end to it.
Class. From what class do I derive? If class is denoted, as I believe it is, by how one treats others, up to and including his or her offspring, then I do indeed come from a lower-class background. I've always sensed it, and I suppose others have, as well.
Since Mike's power and confidence stem from his strong family background, I'm not going to be responsible for disrupting it.
I was going to run or rollerblade but I've succumbed to my fatigue.
Gotta love insomnia. I'm reading Toni Morrison's The Bluest Eye, and the scene with Pecola, Geraldine, Junior and the cat really bothered me. It made my heart hurt. Between that and Mike, I can't sleep. It occurs to me that the way Geraldine regarded Pecola isn't too different from the way Mike's mom regards me.
I keep thinking about how Mike asked me for a one-night stand when I broke it off with him before. I'm gonna call him tomorrow to talk. We'll end it and I'll offer him a night if that's what he wants. It won't be the same though. That twitterbated, giddy feeling is gone. It's as if, shame on me, that's what I get, I didn't deserve to feel that way. Best I take myself out of the sexual equation, put a lid on my sexuality. Finish school and get the fuck out of this stupid city.
I've got our night planned: first I'll offer to go down on him until he comes. If I remember 21-year-olds, he'll be ready and raring to go again in no time, and I want it to last. I'll wear a female condom to make it feel better for him. I'd like for us to sleep together afterward. It'd be nice. But once again I'm putting the cart before the horse. Have to see what he wants, first.
Well, this doesn't bode well. Mike's got marriage on his mind. He would be quite a catch, looking at it in view of a "good provider," seeing as he's so focused and hard-working. I could see being with someone like him; his earnestness, love, intelligence and conversation. But there's a couple of things. It sounds laughable to even be contemplating all this so early, but he plans to run for public office in the future. He could never have me for a wife; some muckrakers would go digging in my past and inevitably find someone who would come forward for a few bucks to say, "Yeah, I fucked her. She was a slut, she was an alcoholic," or god-knows-what.
Then there's the fact that his mom is totally unhappy with him seeing me. Apparently she teased it out of him today and she hit the fucking roof; she's completely against it. His mom is only, what, seven years older than me. She said something like, "I want a daughter-in-law, not a shopping buddy," [as if] and I think she actually forbade him from seeing me anymore. I don't have the people skills to breach such a gap and she's probably right anyway. Mike wants kids and I won't be able to give him any. Plus his family seems to get along well and I don't want to be a cause of discord. Eh, it was a nice fantasy, anyway.
Whatever happened to dinner and a movie?
9:21 PM
Who needs love anyway, I've shed my tears and I've got my Haagen-Dazs triple chocolate ice cream. Did you hear me? Triple-fucking-chocolate. Oh. My. Gawd. If you haven't had any, you're totally missing out.
Undoubtedly Mike's mom feels that with his youth and good looks, he's got many prospects on the horizon and doesn't want him to limit himself. She's not wrong. I also feel her reaction against me is based on perceived socio-economic factors, that I'm a barracuda ready to sink my teeth into her son. Whatever. I plan to elevate my socio-economic level without the use of marriage, thank you very much. But that's beside the point.
Sometimes it's hard to figure out what the Universe wants for me. Am I to be solitary all my life? I guess my first concern is to be financially solvent and fuck the rest.
*Yawn* I'm not actually sleepy but there's something in my nature that says I shouldn't be up yet. I went to bed around 10:30 though. Supposed to get together with Mike today. He still can't come over.
After my marriage ended and I thought that it was a trial separation and that we still had a chance together (hah), I realized that I didn't really know anything about sex. Basically I'd been fucked all my life. So I sent away for a bunch of sex manuals from Amazon. Then, of course, the occasion to put them to use never arose so I had them locked away for five years. Anyway, I thought it might be fun to look them over with Mike or let him borrow some if he wants. He seems like the studious type. :-) Not saying he needs them, boy-howdee. Whew.
I'm gonna have to turn on the A/C today. Every year I resist as long as I can but come May, there's no other choice.
One thing that's funny about kitties is they have such small mouths in comparison to dogs, and such teeny-weeny teeth.
I'm out of milk so I've been having hot tea with lemon and honey instead of coffee.
Slept pretty hard last night. I don't think I’m going to run today because I'm going to make a dent in my apartment. Gotta do it anyway since I'm moving. I'm probably gonna work up a huge sweat in the process. Good thing for my asthma meds because I'm going to be stirring up a lot of dust and cat hair.
Newman's lying on the couch looking impossibly adorable. I could just smooch all over his little face, but he doesn't like that.
Funny about the sociology class, I learned things I hadn't anticipated. Like, it helped me heal some wounds left by the marine corps and other experiences. Just reading the brief section regarding Philip Zimbardo's interest in losing self-identity was a revelation, about his experiment with a mock prison and college students randomly assigned the roles of guards and prisoners. Even after a few days the subjects of the experiment were so immersed in their roles that they lost their former identities. In my life I've always felt shame and a sense of failing about my performance as a recruit. I was like a whipped dog scurrying around with its tail between its legs, waiting for the next blow, while the drill instructors and stronger recruits lorded over me. I find this painful and embarrassing to write about, and I seldom, if ever, talk about it with others. Then, a bit later in my life, I had internalized the subservient role of "secretary," hating every minute of it, feeling I was smarter than that, but somehow believing that I didn't deserve better. Learning the "sociological" angle was a freeing agent for me; it contradicted the "psychological," where I, and my weak psyche, were to blame. I've never felt such a sense of peace and acceptance of myself as I do now, in my role of student. I feel freed.
Oddly enough, Eduard helped me heal too. With him I learned that I wasn't permanently sexually damaged as a result of my early abuse. Also, he and I talked, probably inordinately, about our exes. I guess I needed to be heard and share some laughs at the ex's expense.
Mike reminds me in an unidentifiable way of my former brother-in-law, Nick. They're both Taursus, and both possess a sort of "golden" quality about their physical appearances. Anyway, I remember Nick telling me once, "He's my brother; I know him better than you do." Internally I thought, bullshit. I figured that since the ex and I had been writing for months and revealing our innermost thoughts to one another, that I should know him better. Little did I guess at the time that the ex was only revealing what he wanted me to see, and what I wanted to see. The ex was like that line from Madonna's song where she says he's an actor reciting his lines. He doesn't know who he is, and with me he was trying on a new persona to see if it fit. Guess what? It didn't.
Contrary to how it sounds, I'm pleased to be rid of him. I chose someone who is lacking character and integrity at his core, and I certainly don't want people like that in my life. I guess I bemoan the fact that I lost so much time because of him, ten years total. Five years with him and five years to get over him. Could be worse I guess.
6:53 PM
I was reflecting earlier that I've begun to view sex differently. I don't know if it had anything to do with Eduard or not. In the past, probably as a result of my upbringing and the reinforcement of gender roles in the military, I viewed sex as an extracurricular activity, a melding of body parts that might or might not feel good. Although a part of me sought affection through sex, I didn't regard sex as an expression or means of emotional intimicacy. Lately I'm beginning to see sex as just that a physical reinforcement of the connection of the spirit.
One of my damn fish was dead this morning. I have a 10-gallon tank that's divided and houses bettas. Well, one jumped the divider. Yesterday he was just fine and this morning he was stone cold dead. Once these fish die out, I'm not replacing them, although I might keep the tank running because the cats like to drink from the filter (I had to get a plexi-glass lid cut at Home Depot to support their weight).
Mike called this morning but I didn't get to the phone in time. I phoned back right away but got his voice mail and he hasn't called me back yet. That's a first for him. I thought his voice was funny in the message he left. Here I'll allow my petty suspicions to rear their heads: he went out of town this weekend to visit a friend; I never thought to ask what gender this "friend" is. I never even thought to ask if he's seeing other people. Well, if he stone cold (there's that phrase again) dumps me, at least I don't have much invested.
Had nightmares. Realizing that I'd forgotten to take a final exam, that kind of thing. Also my best friend from high school who dumped me made another appearance. Her name's Liz, by the way. Twenty years. Twenty years! I'd like to purge this out of my psyche already; I'm sick of being haunted by this. I don't even dream about my father molesting me anymore, or of my ex-husband either, but I still dream about Liz.
12:36 PM
I was out running and boy is it muggy. Half an hour later, sweat is still streaming off me. I have to give myself a pedicure so I can wear my sandals. I'd like to get one done professionally but I read in the paper about the possibility of contracting bacterial infections from dirty footbaths, so ... never mind. Anyway, I was carrying my phone in my fannypack, just in case, and guess what. Mike called. So I took a break from running and we chatted for a bit. He's hitting the books for a final tomorrow. Man, he works hard. I'm gonna have to ask him for some pointers. I quizzed him about his out-of-town trip and his friend, to whom he referred as "he." Next time we get together I'll have to ask him concretely whether or not he's pursuing anyone else, and carefully explain why I have to ask.
Made a B in watercolor, which is nice. I didn't actually see the professor but he left everyone's work in the class for pick-up. His note to me said that I paint well and have a fine eye for color. Not bad for paintings pulled out of my ass. :-)
Peggy called and she and I yacked for nearly two hours. It was nice. We need to figure out a way to get together for a visit.
Tired. I think I overdid my run today.
Ever since yesterday afternoon I've had sour stomach and heartburn. :-( Maybe if I drink a lot of water today it'll go away. I don't have any Tums or anything. Whoa. Intermittent waves of nausea. My system's all out of whack.
Looks like I'm gonna be moving after all. Rent's going up, there's no way around it. It's too much. I'll find something. FedEx delivered the sandals I ordered from L.L. Bean to the leasing office. I don't want to go over there to retrieve the parcel; I don't want to deal with those people. I'm procrastinating.
Went for a run earlier and got caught in some rain, which was nice. I wish it would rain some more. Now I'm tempted to soak in the tub and/or take a nap ... got so much to do though. I was considering asking Mike if he'd mind dropping by my apartment once a day for a few days to feed the kitties while I go visit my parents. The place would have to be spotless.
7:52 PM
Dude, I made a bargain with God and now I have to pay up. Earlier I was napping when the smoke alarm went off. It does that if I'm cooking sometimes, so although I didn't have any heating elements activated in the apartment, I stood beneath the smoke alarm and fanned it, trying to get it to stop that shrill, unbearable shrieking. I was unsuccessful so I poked my head out the door and saw that the whole building's alarm had gone off. So I went outside where some people were gathering but it didn't appear that there was any crisis. There wasn't any smoke or anything. Damn alarm was just malfunctioning. I went back upstairs and tried to call the cats to take them outside because that alarm hurt my ears so you know it hurt theirs, but they were well-hidden and I couldn't find them. After a good twenty to thirty minutes, the fire department arrived and shut the alarm off. In my 2-1/2 years living here, that's never happened before.
So anyway, I was totally praying, "Oh God, please please please please don't let anyone have to enter my apartment! I'll do anything you say, I'll start cleaning up right away, please please please please!" So now it's time to put my money where my mouth is.
My new sandals are pretty kewl. I wanted to buy some Teva's but they're $75, which I can't justify spending. But L.L. Bean came out with some knock-off's for $30 and I like them just fine. Also bought a pair of flip-flops, which I haven't worn in years, and the thong part hurts between my toes.
John, this is bad. Bad! (I love it.)So this woman goes into a tattoo parlor and asks for two
tattoos: one on each inner thigh. "I want the left one to be Robert Redford and the right one to be Paul Newman", she said. When the tattoo artist had finished, the woman looked at the results with a hand-held mirror and shrieked, "These don't look a bit like either one of those guys! I'm not gonna pay you!" "Whaddya mean?", said the parlor owner. "Anyone could recognize these faces! I'll tell you what", he went on, "I'm SO sure of my work that I'll make a deal with you. We'll bring in the next person who walks by the store and we'll ask him if he can tell whose faces those are. And if he can't, then you don't owe me a thing!" The woman agreed. So they waited in front of the parlor and the next person who walked by was an old drunk. They invited him in and asked him to identify the faces tattooed on her thighs. The drunk looked at one tattoo...and then turned to look at the other. Slowly back and forth. Finally, he answered, "Well...I don't know who those two guys are...but the one in the middle with the beard and the bad breath? That's Willie Nelson!"
So between today's earlier events and what went down yesterday, I'm barely coherent. Mike told me something personal that I won't reveal here, not because I'm afraid that one day he'll read my blog but because I feel instinctively that it would be disrespectful. I had him pegged all wrong. I sense that he's got a core of integrity, honesty and almost purity that I never expected to ever encounter, and it reveals the degree to which my own attitudes have jaundiced, the walls of self-protection I've erected.Well, I can't stay much longer because my kind neighbor said he'd pick me up from school and then give me a jump so I can go buy a new battery.
Holy mother of gawd, what a day. First of all, this keyboard sucks. Anyway. I had my final exam for my distance ed course at the community college campus today. I was to be here no later than one. It was shortly before noon when I jumped into my car and the fucker wouldn't start. Not a groan, not a squeak, no nothing. Yesterday it died and I needed a jump but I had assumed that I'd left my lights on or something equally silly and thought no more of it. But no. So I called a cab but was left particularly uneasy by the incompetence of the person I spoke with. I'm not a particularly social person and am not bestest friends with my neighbors but I saw a friendly gentleman I'd spoken with before and begged him to take me to school. By this time I was well on my way to utter panic. Got to the campus on time and guess what. I couldn't find the test location. I ran all over campus looking for it and asked every school employee I could find and nobody knew dick. So, I didn't take the freakin final. This was too much for my poor fragile psyche and I broke down and cried. Realized I hadn't eaten yet so I walked to McDonald's. Usually I like McDonald's and a Coke but today it didn't taste good. And my stomach hurts. Anyway.That delicious young punk/goth dude is sitting nearby and he smiled at me. And guess what? I've got a hickie. A hickie! I haven't had one of those in years. Years! And I've got my hair up in a ponytail too so it's on display. So I guess I can rule out flirting.
I'm freakin'. I'm tweakin'. I inhaled some asthma meds and they make me hyper as all fuck. Plus yesterday. Oh boy. Spent the afternoon with Mike. First we had some Chinese food and then we went over to his place. Where we totally made out. We stayed dressed (from the waist down) but I've never ever experienced such complete, matched passion. Never. I can't think straight, I want him so bad. I love his mouth, he has such full, soft lips, I could suck on them all day. I'm simply beside myself. I *must* clean up my apartment.
Remember me mentioning Dan, a fellow veteran who I thought dug me? He was in here earlier and received a phone call from a decidedly female voice. Yep, the selection pool grows ever smaller. ;-)
I left my cell at home today. If it weren't for Mike, that wouldn't concern me ... and it shouldn't concern me now.
Mike called a few minutes ago. Little does he know that I'm seldom conscious at this hour. :-) I have work to do on a paper but he said we could meet up on campus later while I take a break. He'd suggested that he come pick me up at my apartment again; I think he really wants me to let him in, in more ways than one. Good thing my apartment needs a thorough scrubbing from top to bottom before I can have any guests; it'll be a means to keep him at bay. It cracks me up that he's in such a hurry. I totally get the impression that he's sowing his oats, which isn't necessarily a bad thing because I'm not ready to settle down either. One thing I'd like to see different about him is, I'd like to see him laugh more. He's so focused and serious. Also I wonder, if/when we have sex, he can answer to my request of giving it to me slow. I remember 21-year-old sex and it was like riding a race horse. I've had enough of that.
Mike did call and we made plans to have some Chinese food, but when he came over to pick me up (I was waiting outside), he said that some errands suddenly came up and that he had only twenty minutes to be with me. So, we walked over to the back of the complex that faces the man-made swamp, I mean, lake, and we sat on a bench and we necked a little bit. I still felt rushed but this time I acquiesced. He sure didn't seem interested in talking, that much was apparent. He said at one point, "It must have been a while for you," to which I said yes, because "a while" is a relative term, and then I said, "how about you?" and he replied, "not so much." So, if a 21-year-old says he recently got some, it must have been the night before, because if it was so much as a week ago he'd be like, "it's been soooo longggggg!" So, when/if we ever sit down and actually converse, I'd like to know exactly what he seeks in me, and whether or not he's fucking other people. I assume he wants to fuck me, but if he's fucking others, then he doesn't need me. Even though he did have my motor running, whoa. But at least my electric boyfriend is monogamous.
Wednesday, May 04, 2005, 12:23 AM
Dude, I'm hurtin'. Tired. Want. To. Go. To. Bed. Wondering if I should risk taking a nap or if I wouldn't be able to get back up. Shit, I should have the art of all-nighters down to a science by now. Took my Wellbutrin, B-vitamins and drank a bunch of Pepsi in an effort to jack myself up. Why the fuck do I have insomnia on nights that I don't need to stay awake?
3:32 AM
I did go to bed and feel better now. Whew. You know that I forgot what day it is and totally missed my sociology class? A classmate called me and was like, "Are you going to class on Thursday?" I replied a little shittily, "Yeah." I didn't know what the hell she was talking about. And then I was like, "OMIGAWD!" I swear, I'm such a spazz, I do the most weirded-out things. I was partly concerned about my painting and partly climb-the-walls horny. Ai chihuahua.
5:32 AM
My rose painting turned out okay, considering it was my first ever. I've always been intimidated by roses in the past.
Listening to 80's MP3's. Prince's "Erotic City" ("You're a sinner, I don't care. I just want your creamy thighs") and the MaryJane Girls' "In My House." Weren't they Prince's protégés? Remember them, dancing around in their underwear? Although I don't have this song, I've heard Billy Squire's "Stroke It" on the radio a lot lately. The words actually made me blush, and I used to not blink an eye. Oh, remember Sheena Easton's "Sugar Walls"? Another Prince project, I think. Funny how our culture has gotten more sexually cautious [run and hide, everybody! it's Janet Jackson's nipple!! Eeeeeeeeeeeeee! Disaster, catastrophe!]. I kinda miss the old gleeful, over-the-top abandon.
2:25 PM
Just got up from a nap; I'm expecting Mike to call.
Hopefully the second half of my day will be better than my first. I turned my paintings in to the watercolor professor this morning and let him know, without whining or excuses, that I didn't do that one assignment, the interior. Gawd he looked pissed. Why would he care whether I did it or not? I'm the one who has to suffer the consequences. Hopefully I won't get lower than a C in the course. Watch the interior composition be worth 50% of the grade or something. :-p I know, I'm a slacker, I'm a dawg, what can I say.
Then, I realized this morning that I forgot to pay my motherfucking rent. FUCK that pisses me off. So I go to the rental office, checkbook in hand, to ask what the late fee is and, underneath, kinda hoping that they'd cut me some slack. Well, not only did they cut me no slack whatsoever, they wouldn't accept my check; I have to get a motherfucking money order. It's not like I bounced a check or something. This is so totally arbitrary and unnecessary. Plus the late fee for one fucking day is fifty bucks. And this new manager is a total bitch. I said thanks, and then as I walked off I said, "thanks for *nothing*." I'm sure they heard me. That was a passive-aggressive thing to do and probably not mature, but fuckit. So, I have to go to the post office for some money orders (because I think that I'll need to get two to cover the total cost) before they close. I'm dropping the payment in the drop box because I don't want to have to deal with that ho. Why can't the property owners hire decent managers?! I might look to move after all; you can bet that such a cunt wouldn't cut me a sweet deal on the rent. Ooh, and ouch, if she finds out I have these cats she'll have me over a barrel.
You know, I HATE HATE HATE fuckheads who have any authority over me. Not real, respectable authority, like a judge or a professor or something, but perceived authority, like apartment managers, for example. Small, petty, inexpert jerks who relish and gloat in their "power" over others.
I hope Mike's hungry, maybe we can get some Chinese. I need to be careful not be be cranky around him. *sigh* So thank you for letting me spill my bile here.
But ... he hasn't called yet ... and I can't remember, did he say he'd call me today or tomorrow afternoon? Crap. Well, whatever, I'm not calling him; I'll rely on him to call me when he said he would.
Remember that Checkmate Kit doll I was talking about? Well, it always struck me that her face was laterally compressed, like a fish's. Really couldn't stand that pinched, pointed look to her. So, I boiled some water, poured it over her face to soften the vinyl, and then I smooshed her forehead in and held it until the vinyl cooled. Voila! Now I've got me a pretty doll with a sweet face that much more resembles the prototypes. Cool! I think I'll keep her.
Tuesday, May 03, 2005, 12:53 PM
Oh, alright. I phoned Mike, got his voice mail, left him a message, and he called back right away. Whoa. I was half expecting him not to call back at all, or at least let a bunch of time elapse, but he doesn't play games, which I appreciate. Anywho, we agreed to get together later this week. I told him that I need to go slow with the physical part, and in his response I thought he sounded a bit dismayed (heheehe). Not to worry, I'm not a tease, I just want for us to get to know each other first, build up some trust. Believe me, I can't wait.
Now my heart is fluttering and I've got a smile on my face. Wow, that feels good. Damn I'd better get to painting. But first I'm gonna go for a run. Gotta get in shape for when the time comes that Mike sees me nekkit (assuming nothing happens to interfere--knock on wood) (oh! I made a funny! wood!).
2:53 PM
I could wind up looking back years from now, smacking my head, and saying, "What was I thinking?" like I always have. Or, I could look back and think that it was a sweet episode in my life. Either way, I'll never know unless I take the leap.
4:42 PM
Went to the Taco Smell drive through and on the street adjoining my apartment complex was a squad of police cars pulling people over for speeding through a school zone. The ending time listed on the sign is 4:30 and it was 4:15. Fucking oinkers. I remember being at the San Francisco pride parade where people were stripping off and walking around in the buff and the cops didn't care. Well, this ain't San Francisco, jack.
I was told quite adamantly by a fellow adult-student-art-major-math-retard to never never never never take college algebra over the summer, not even at a community college. Okay, I'll take her word for it. So I'll take it at the community college in the fall instead. That entails a little rearranging, but I'm okay with it. For the summer I signed up for a women in literature course and intro to philosophy for the first session. For the second session I would like to take a watercolor course at the community college, if it's still open by the time I complete their cumbersome registration process, that is. :-PSpeaking of watercolor, I have to pull quite a lot of paintings out of my ass to turn in tomorrow. Sound like fun to you?Got some other stuff to talk about but I need to get busy.
Now tell me, *what* am I doing? Huh? I'm sitting in the VA office on the computer, even though I'm technically done in here ... wondering if Mike will come in. Goddammit that's pathetic.
Painting for profit, my ass! I'd better start painting so I don't get a freakin' F!
Ugh, I need a big meal. And where are my vitamins?
Mike awakened my libito. Thanks alot, not sure I needed the distraction. I've even been running these past few days to use up some energy and still. Bleah. Don't women come into their sexuality in their late thirties or something? Kinda don't need this! What am I gonna do, wank myself stupid? Or clean up my apartment and call Mike? Oh gawd.
It might be my low self-esteem talking here, but I can't imagine what Mike saw in me. When I look in the mirror, I'm not altogether unattractive but I see those crow's feet and man! I can't envision hanging with a twenty-something and not take on a maternal demeanor -- that just seems wrong. Even if he and I "got together" and I taught him a thing or two, it would just be for the benefit of some other woman ultimately. And you know what? I'm not that altruisitic. In fact, I'm downright selfish.
Awright, well, I'd better eat before I faint.
Kinda sittin' here, glad that I don't ever have to go to that German class ever again. I'm not sure what's up for painting class. I reckon I should get off my patootie and check the syllabus.
I finished painting a doll for my own collection last night and I'm very pleased with how she turned out. I seem to have a block right now in regards to painting for profit.
Fuck I swear, don't you hate when something goes ka-thunk and what you've typed disappears into internet neverneverland?
ANYway, what I said was, I'm "fantasizing" about calling Mike up. And no, I won't do that. But I keep thinking about the fun we could have had. :-
But I guess I have to go with the premise that things work out for the best so regret is useless.
Today I met my bro, SIL and niece at the park, along with a friend of theirs, Lisa and her daughter/son twins. I don't like Lisa, never have. Don't know why, she never did anything to me. Maybe it's her brisk, breezy manner, or the way she seems to dismiss me. Don't know if I'm imagining it or not. But anyway, she's not my friend, she's my bro's, so I don't see her much. Her kids are little cuties, though, very sweet. I let her son play with my digital camera and he actually took a couple of cool pics.
Otherwise, not much going on. I more or less pissed my weekend away. And Blogger's really pissing me off.
