Fractured Fairytales

It's a New Day

2010-05-12T05:53:00.002-05:00

I wish I felt more accomplished when it comes to keeping up with this blog. So much has happened/changed over the last 6 months and there were times when the outlet I have here would've helped immensely had I chosen to pour myself into it. I've found myself romanced by the simplicity and immediacy of facebook, however the forced brevity always leaves me feeling less than purged after posting. I've also realized the lack of anonymity amongst family and certain friends forces me to censor myself, something I have a difficult time accomplishing.

*sigh*

So very much has changed.

I really should spend more time here.

It would do me good.

Missing Her

2009-11-24T21:06:00.005-05:00

I miss her.
God help me I do.
I thought I had tucked her away, forgotten her desire, her passion, her...need.

But something happened recently.
Something I cannot share.
And with it came an awaking I have not experienced since I first learned of her existence and the new delicious things which fueled her fire...

The tone.
The commands.
The voice.
The dominance.

The Collar

I want it back...I want HER back.
I want to fulfill her desire to serve
Her desire to please
Her desire to be...used...yet loved.

A friend now has me thinking about Switching.
I've always been a bottom. Not much of a painslut but if that's what Sir wants...that's what Sir gets....because once the collar goes on...what I want no longer matters.

And ooooooooh, the collar...
The way it feels around my neck.
The ecstasy of leather against flesh...
His strong hands tightening it to just the right spot...
Inserting the tiny lock which only he can remove.
The melodic clink...clink...clink... of metal against metal as I move...
a constant reminder that I am his...

I wonder if I can bring her back.
Where I live now leaves little opportunity for this...
my ideal...
my dream relationship.
To be respected, loved and cherished as a woman, partner, wife...
But desired so deeply that He cannot resist the urge to

Own

and

Control

I often find myself having these same urges but never fully thought about exploring becoming a switch. However a new fantasy has presented itself to me...one which sings...

Two People.
Him/her....Her/him
Two Collars...his and hers...
Both tucked lovingly together in a drawer.
Until He decides that she will wear it for Him...
Until She decides that he will wear it for Her...
When one declares "Its time"....the other follows
...devoted
...committed
...in love.

And when Both declare a need...
When Both desire to control...to Top....
Ooooooooh...sweet heaven!!
Power play!
Struggle!
Raw unbridled passion...
Intense, yet controlled, aggression!
Scratches...
Bite marks...
...Bliss...

(sigh)

It's official...

I WANT HER BACK!

The Dwindling Someday

2009-10-08T20:30:00.002-05:00

There are times when I am reminded most that I am 35, single and childless. Today for instance, while enjoying a slice of cheese pizza at the mall, I glanced over at the table next to me to see a woman with three little girls...probably ages 2, 3 and 5ish. I tried not to stare but the truth is, I had never seen such a beautiful family...such gorgeous girls. It was the youngest that tugged at my heart strings. Her pudgy little baby face, her huge blue eyes, and the two itty bitty pig tails poking out the top of her head.

I decided right then that I want my first child to be a girl.

*sigh*

Someday

But how much "someday" do i really have left?

This is Not a Love Story...It's a Story About Love...

2009-10-03T12:03:00.006-05:00

"This is a story of boy meets girl, but you should know upfront, this is not a love story...It's a story about love."

Movies like this do not come along often. Since I wrote that entry (god, so many years ago!), I could probably count on one had the number of movies I've seen which have had such a profound affect on me. In the instance of Clerks II, Kevin Smith's ability to so perfectly capture in so few words the very essence of human nature, caused me to stop and reflect on my failures in the dating world.

I don't often have those Ah-Ha moments, but when they do happen...I stop and take note. And in this instance, it was of the men in my past to whom I have tried so desperately to prove that I am not another example of the stereotype they have been taught to believe in. But that is not what I wish to rehash. The words are already there if you so choose to read.

Today, my heart is with 500 Days of Summer.

For the first three quarters of this movie, I found myself sitting in total awe, believing I was witnessing one of the best movies ever made. The brilliant use of timeline to piece together the story in a nonlinear fashion...the dialogue written not quite as brilliantly as anything Kevin Smith does but still more true and honest than 99% of the crap out there...and that scene...that one amazing scene of Expectations vs. Reality...the dream he still held onto vs the reality he experienced.

But then that last quarter struck so close to home it became too hard to watch. He, the oh-so-in-love man, realizing that while she was his The One... no matter what he did, or how hard he tried, he would never be the one for her. It was hard to watch this less than happy ending...but then that's the way it's meant to be...a snapshot of true life, of relationships in this age where two people come together and one inevitable loves the other so much more that the other is scared and pushed away...and sometimes, pushed right into the arms of the one that truly IS the one for them.

In the movie, Tom believes in love. He believes he's found it with Summer...and for 500 Days, she becomes a crucial part of life for him.

Yet on day 499, when they find themselves sitting next to each other on a park bench, Tom

(whose faith in love has waivered) tells Summer (now married to another man) that he was wrong about love...there there isn't a One out there for him.

Summer's response?

"You weren't wrong, Tom....you were just wrong about me."

I thought I would have to walk out at that moment...my heart twisted and pulled its way into my gut.

And there it was (Ah-Ha)...

The moment which ripped through me and forced me to open up old wounds and study myself yet again.

I don't want to be wrong any more...

When will the day come that I will...finally...be right?

Come Back to Me

2009-06-09T20:50:00.005-05:00

I quit facebook.

Well, I didn't quit...I'm just taking a hiatus.
The constant reminder every time I log on...the "A is now listed as single" which pops up every singe day is more than I can bare right now. I thought it would be gone in a few hours, at the most a day but even as of this morning there it was, slapping me in the face with all its bitter truth.

Also I realized that all my status updates of late were dark and getting darker - and I do not see it letting up any time soon. I decided that rather than subject my facebook friends to my melodramatic, woeful moods, I would focus instead on working through my issues here.

I have to say though that I am amazed sometimes at just how perfectly my life comes full circle at regular intervals. I wrote this in 2006 when I was first falling in love with the Music Man...and now, three full years later I find myself in the exact same situation. More so than that, this post also shocked me with how it is precisely the same situation as now. Am I stuck on repeat somehow? Am I living some sort of hell where I'm forced to relive situations over and over again? Why can't I get out of these cycles?!

That said, let me add that there is something moving and uncanny about the lyrical beauty of music and its ability to capture perfectly all that we are trying to say. It happened again today with a new song. Driving home from the gym, David's Cook's song "Come Back to Me" came on and I was flabbergasted with just how much that song mirrors my current situation. Much like K.J.'s gorgeous lyrics, his song reduced me to tears on the way home. Why can't I get over him? I don't know if I should let go and give up all hope of a reconciliation or stand my ground and retain that final shred of hope for us that gets me out of bed each morning.

I heard that song and immediately thought I would come home and draft an email to the Music Man or a really moving blog post. But eventually I decided to stop here because in my own words, "It's hard to compose for someone when you know the perfect words already exist."
.

COME BACK TO ME
David Cook
_______________

You say you gotta go and find yourself
You say that you're becoming someone else
Don't recognize the face in the mirror looking back at you

You say you're leaving as you look away
I know there's really nothing left to say
Just know I'm here whenever you need me I'll wait for you

So I'll let you go, I'll set you free
And when you've seen what you need to see
When you find you, come back to me

Take your time, I won't go anywhere
Picture you with the wind in your hair
I'll keep your things right where you left them
I'll be here for you

Oh and I'll let you go, I'll set your free
And when you've seen what you need to see
When you find you, come back to me

And I hope you find everything that you need
I'll be right here waiting to see
You find you, come back to me

I can't get close if you're not there
I can't get inside if there's no soul there
I can't face you, I can't save you
It's something you'll have to do

So I'll let you go, I'll set you free
And when you've seen what you need to see
When you find you, come back to me
Come back to me

So I'll let you go, I'll set you free
And when you've seen what you need to see
When you find you, come back to me

And I hope you find everything that you need
I'll be right here waiting to see
You find you, come back to me

You find you, come back to me
When you find you, come back to me
When you find you, come back to me

(Come back to me A...I miss you)

Rambling Sadness

2009-06-08T20:20:00.003-05:00

So far it's been hardest in the mornings...those first few moments when my eyes open, my dreams retreat back into the fog and reality once again pierces my heart. Today however has been different. I awoke in good spirits. I laughed in the car with the niece and nephew (who I am watching until Thursday morning) as we drove to their Ta-Paw's house. I floated around at work on a high - excited about the cruise I've decided to take to escape this sadness. I realized that since I will no longer be going to California to visit the Music Man (I do not yet have the heart to refer to him as my "Ex"...even thinking such brings much pain) I will now use that week to do something amazing and spiritual for myself.

So the idea of the cruise has had me excited all day until now. This evening it seems all the sadness I've held back for the last 12 hours has managed to break through the barrier and drown me. I'm thinking about the beaches I will not be walking hand-in-hand with him on, the Myan ruins I will not be seeing with him, the snorkeling and coral reef exploration that he will be so visibly absent from. I feel like there is so much I never got to do with him. And now in this moment the day catches up to me and I'm crushed yet again. I don't want to roll over tonight and be afraid to touch his side of the bed. God I miss him so much. I ache desperately to hear his voice, to feel his touch, to kiss his tender lips.

I hate that morning has come so late today. But truthfully, its so much easier to fall asleep from sadness than it is to wake up into it.

Someone please tell me when this heartache ends.
I miss you.
I love you.

A Moment of Zen

2009-06-07T21:06:00.004-05:00

I had a moment today.

A much welcomed escape from the heartache of the past few.

Returning home from a movie,
the 12 year old nephew beside me,
the 7 year old niece in the backseat.
The sky was blue and beautiful.
The weather warm but not draining.
Inside I was in turmoil.
Fighting to smile so no one knew
but needing the release of tears and solitude.

Nathan cranks the radio and I hear a song I love...
Lyrics I know that will hurt but still the infectious beat fills me up.
Then a little voice from the back seat
In perfect time and harmony with the song
At the top of her lungs begins to sing

"Well open up your mind and see like me
Open up your plans and damn you're free
Look into your heart and you'll find love love love love"

The nephew joins in, followed by mom
And me listening in silence to the beauty of the moment
A long needed smile on my face
And tears in my eyes hidden by the dark sunglasses I wore...just in case.
If I had not been driving I would've leaned my head back on the seat
Absorbing the sun....
and a 7 year old's ability

...to make it all go away.....

I'm Yours By Jason Mraz

Well you done done me and you bet I felt it
I tried to be chill but you're so hot that I melted
I fell right through the cracks
Now I'm trying to get back
Before the cool done run out
I'll be giving it my bestest
And nothing's going to stop me but divine intervention
I reckon it's again my turn to win some or learn some

I won't hesitate no more, no more
It cannot wait, I'm yours

Well open up your mind and see like me
Open up your plans and damn you're free
Look into your heart and you'll find love love love love
Listen to the music of the moment babay sing with me
I love peace for melody
And It's our God-forsaken right to be loved love loved love loved

So I won't hesitate no more, no more
It cannot wait I'm sure
There's no need to complicate
Our time is short
This is our fate, I'm yours

Scooch on over closer dear
And i will nibble your ear

I've been spending way too long checking my tongue in the mirror
And bending over backwards just to try to see it clearer
But my breath fogged up the glass
And so I drew a new face and laughed
I guess what I'm be saying is there ain't no better reason
To rid yourself of vanity and just go with the seasons
It's what we aim to do
Our name is our virtue

But I won't hesitate no more, no more
It cannot wait I'm sure

Well open up your mind and see like me
Open up your plans and damn you're free
Look into your heart and you'll find that the sky is yours
Please don't, please don't, please don't
There's no need to complicate
Cause our time is short
This oh this this is out fate, I'm yours!

My Biggest Fear

2009-06-06T18:33:00.006-05:00

“When I see your smile, and I know it’s not for me, that’s when I’ll miss you” ~ Unknown

I read this today and realized
my biggest fear is not forgetting you...
...but rather you forgetting me.

Forgetting

2009-06-06T16:54:00.003-05:00

I had a moment today when I didn't hurt.
I forgot about you and me and the us that no longer exists.
But then a funny thing happened,
The realization that I had escaped the hurt, however briefly,
left me hurting more.

For as much as I sob and cry and scream in silence...
I do not want the pain to stop.
Because once it does
It means I have moved on.
And I do not want to move on from you.
My Gentle Giant.
My Music Man.

I don't want to move on
Because I don't want to forget:
The first time you told me you loved me;
The way you made me laugh;
The trip to Woodstock and the little red hotel;
The music that used to fill our home each day;
How you never knew I used to sit and listen outside your door while you played;
And how that sound would fill me up and spill out in silent tears of joy
Because you were here
and you were mine.

I don't want to forget:
The way you looked in your tux;
The way you looked out of your tux;
How you would cook for me when I was sick;
How you would cook for me when I wasn't;
The night of peanut butter ice cream and Planet of the Apes;
The way we made love;
The way you would nestle into the blankets each night,
flipping and turning like a little chinchilla.
The little things that made me happy
because you were here
and you were mine.

So as much as it hurts my love...I don't want this pain to stop.
Because I don't want to forget you
I don't want to move on
The pain is all I have left of you...
All I have left of us...

My beautiful Music Man
My dear sweet Gentle Giant
My little chinchilla

I love you

A Return

2009-06-06T11:04:00.006-05:00

I've reread much of what I've written here.
Some of it made me laugh,
some made me smile...
most left me sobbing.

Two years have passed since I've last written.
I'm not sure why I ever stopped.

I was happy for a while, then sad, then happy again.
Now I feel

empty

Right now I am gasping for air.
My chest has been ripped open and
all the good it housed is now pooled at my feet...
seeping slowly through the cracks in floorboards...
dripping into the darkness below me
beyond my ability to collect...and save.

I was a the sole life vest in our little raft
But even I...
sank.

Feeling out of sorts

2007-06-13T10:50:00.001-05:00

I feel like I've been on an emotional roller coaster these past few weeks, months even.

My grandfather passed away in early May, barely a year after my grandmother passed away last April.

I solved the school finance issue and re-enrolled in school to take my final seven classes only to have the option ripped out from under me again.

Various things at work - Being told I'm not assertive enough, I'm not energetic enough, I don't own my projects enough, and (the worst) I'm not executive enough for my roll as Executive Assistant.

The last few weeks have been a blur leading up to a major meltdown. Doc said...

Time For Meds

Been six days now and still feeling weird. Body aches, blurred vision, paranoia, insomnia, agitation, confusion. Finally feel myself 24 hours after each pill. Can literally feel the medicinal fog lifting, but then its time to dose again and start the process all over.

Movie Recap

2007-05-28T14:22:00.000-05:00

Well, so far, the Summer-o-Sequels has proved to be one big disappointment. I've seen all the big blockbusters to date and not one has really proved to be worth the time or money. Spider Man 3 just flat out sucked - a total let down and by far the worst of the series. Shrek the Third was also a big disappointment. The laughs were too few and the whole flick had an overall been-there-done-that feeling. And Pirates 3...ok, well Pirates was ok. At least, it was WAY better than the second one which I thought was pretty lame. Although perhaps not your typical fairy tale ending, I do quite enjoy the way the third installment ended. And hopefully they won't ruin the series by making any more. A fourth in any movie series has never been good so if they're smart, this will be the end of the line for ole Jack Sparrow, Will Turner and Elizabeth Swan. Now just counting down till Harry Potter 5...

Interestingly the best flick I've seen recently is one I rented off of Netflix called The Dead Girl. Netflix evaluates your rental history of movies and make recommendations based upon the ratings you give to the movies you've seen. After Netflix recommended The Dead Girl, I was shocked I had never heard of it before considering its star power - Brittney Murphey, Giavonni Ribissi, Toni collette, Marcia Gay Harden, and Mary Steenburgen to name a few. I decided to give it a shot and it really payed off. It's short - only 90 minutes or so - but it really pulls you in and gets you involved in the story. Similar to Crash, its told in vignettes. A girl is found dead (brittney Murphey) and each story tells how her death affected that character, be it directly or indirectly. It's very dark and depressing, but each tale was so well crafted that I was left wanting to know more about each character even though it meant lingering longer in their woeful and chaotic lives. There is NOT a happy ending. There are NO resolved loose ends. You will NOT walk away feeling good about yourself. And the ending comes so suddenly you are left feeling rather dumbfounded. But...that aside...this movie is what it is - an amazing cinematic masterpiece with beautifully scripted vignettes capturing the delicate fagility of the human psyche.

It Said WHAT?!?!

2007-05-02T15:55:00.000-05:00

I just had to share something that gave me a big laugh today...

This is a section of the warning label on a box of Midol that I purchased today:

Ask a doctor before use if you have

Glaucoma

A breathing problem such as emphysema or chronic bronchitis

And...

difficulty in urination due to enlargement of the prostate gland

And the award goes to....

2007-04-30T12:54:00.000-05:00

Wow. Can't believe its been a month and a half since I've posted. Amazing. Guess I'm spilling out most of my crap in my weekly therapist appointments and haven't really had the urge to post here. Hopefully soon I'll start blogging again. For myself moreso than anyone who may be stopping by for an occasional read. Here's hoping....

Oh...and just one more person that I can add to my list of people who I am SO happy NOT to be right now...the uber fuckwad who decided it would be ok to speed around a curvy freeway driving a gasoline tanker truck in Oakland California. Truck crashes, blows up and MELTS the freekin highway - tens of millions of dollars and months to repair and one hell of a snarled mess for nearly 300,000 daily commuters...

YOU sir win my "Idot of the DECADE" award!

Updates

2007-03-14T09:28:00.000-05:00

Not much in the way of updates for now. I'm going to see this on Sunday with the Music Man's parents. It should be fun since I've yet to see a big theatrical production. However I can't help but be a little bummed that I'm now missing out on this.

I've recently discovered MeetUp.com. There is a possibility that the Music Man will be leaving in August for a full year on a Broadway tour. I started thinking about him leaving and realized that if he goes, I have one local friend and a roommate to do things with so I needed to start working on building up a bigger social network. I remembered someone telling me about Meetup but never checked it out. It's amazing! And I must say I'm looking forward to attending some of the groups I've discovered.

I've joined two book clubs (one in Stamford and one in Tarrytown) and two movie clubs (also in Stamford and Tarrytown), and a Westchester County 30Something social group. The first club (the Westchester movie club) was meeting this Sunday and I was really looking forward to seeing 300 again - its one of the best movies I've seen in quite some time. The Stamford book club is meeting next week and lucky for me the book they're discussing this month is a brilliant piece that I've already read.

I'm excited about the opportunity of making groups of new friends with similar interests and the idea of seeing this AMAZING movie again on Sunday then going to lunch with a crowd of people to discuss it was something I couldn't wait to do. I'm bummed, and I can't help but feel guilty that I'm bummed. It means a lot to me that the Music Man's parents want to take me (and ONLY me - he's working) to a show and then to dinner. But I'm longing to make more friends and the conflicting dates has me floundering. Of course I'm going with the "in-laws" and I know I'll have fun, but a part of me will be longing for the company of new friends and the cinematic imagery of HOT Spartans in red capes and tightie-brownies!

Farewell Good Knight?

2007-02-15T15:40:00.000-05:00

Any of my few blogging buddies know what happened to our Good Knight?

Jesus Effing Christ!

2007-02-13T14:47:00.000-05:00

Stories like this make me so angry I could shoot someone....

Time to Let Go?

2007-02-06T14:54:00.000-05:00

I think I'm close to shutting this ole blog down. In fact, if it weren't for the title I probably would've already done so. As it is, I've been hesitant to let it fall off this virtual planet because I don't want to let go of the name. I just dig "Fractured Fairytales" - I feel it's crunchy cool and, at one time, captured perfectly the direction I thought I was headed.

But I've changed a lot over the past year and as I have morphed, I feel my writing has too. I suppose I knew it would become something different along the way but what I didn't realize was that my need to be here, my drive to put it all down would vanish.

And truthfully this all runs much deeper than just this blog...SO much deeper.

My entire life I just knew I was going to be a writer - an author - the next Stephen King. But somewhere along the way it seems I reached a fork in the road and the dream went one way while I went another. Now what I can't decide is did I let it go because I didn't believe I could do it, or did I let I let it go because I no longer wanted it?

I don't see the words anymore.
Worse yet...I don't feel them.
Coming up with topics, drafting entries - the act of composing is nothing but work to me now, and I never wanted to feel that way...ever...about writing.

Who knows. Maybe tomorrow inspiration will hit.
Or maybe the next day.
Or maybe never.

Oh My!

2007-01-31T11:33:00.000-05:00

Looks like the young wizard is all grown up...

Drooling over Harry Potter - I feel so perv right now.

http://www.equustheplay.com/pr/index.php

All Moved In

2007-01-23T16:32:00.000-05:00

Well, the Music Man is officially moved in. Originally he was supposed to move February 1st, but his landlady (the same woman who rented me the room in the boarding house I moved from) told him she could rent the room as early as January 23rd if he wanted to move out and not pay rent for that last month. Of course he jumped on the opportunity.

I'm elated that neither of us live there anymore. I had only been there twice to visit the Music Man since I moved, and each time I was hit with a horrible wave of ickiness. Yes I have some great memories of things that occured there - it is, after all, where the two of us met. But the way I felt during the time I spent there was not one I care to remember. It was perhaps the second lowest point in my life. I was in a very dark place there and going back only reminded me of how horrible I felt.

BUT - anyhoo. We're both out of there now. No reason to ever go back really, and even with my gratitude to her for taking me in, I can only say - Thank God.

Happy Birthday to ME!!!!

2007-01-11T14:41:00.000-05:00

Allow me to introduce you to my new best friend...

Cold Stone Creamery's Cake Batter Confetti icecream cake!!

Red Velvet cake layered with cake batter icecream (the best iceream flavor in the WORLD, people!) then smothered in white frosting and decorated with sprinkles and kit kat bars.

The Music Man got it for me to celebrate my birthday last night.
Mmmmmmmmmmmm....
The only thing getting me through the day today is knowing there's half a cake left in the freezer just waiting for me to come home and eat it!

Feeling all growed up! (Not really...)

2007-01-10T11:29:00.000-05:00

I guess I've been MIA. I have been trying not to let my relationship with the Music Man run my blog...I mean, there are other things to write about aren't there? Don't want to bog everyone down with every little detail about us other than major developments, but it seems I've lost the urge to write not only about him/us, but about all the other stuff going on...i.e. my trip home for Christmas, my new years resolutions, thoughts on my impending 33rd birthday (January 11th by the way...). I don't know what's happened. It was this time last year that I lost interest and abandoned my last blog. Hopefully that's not what's happening now.

Anyway...I suppose now that I'm here I'll go ahead and share the news about the Music Man and I. Yeah, I know, I know, but this does qualify for one of those major developments. We've been talking about moving in together. After being away from each other during the week of Christmas we both realized how much we missed each other and that we wanted to come home to each other every night. No plans had been made as to exactly when and how that would happen, but had began discussing such things as possible locations, rent vs. buy, etc. We just assumed some day, some where, some how...

Until now.

The perfect situation fell into our laps last Friday and after some discussion we're going forward - the Music Man and I are moving in together as of February 1st. Turns out one of my roommates (there are three of us) in my four bedroom apartment is moving out suddenly at the end of the month. Crazy bitch didn't even have the guts to tell my other roommate and I in person. She simply left a note on the kitchen table declaring she'd be out by the end of the month and "so sorry she couldn't give us more notice but" blah blah blah. Lets just say we won't miss her very much. Anyway, The first thing I did after reading the note was pick up the phone and call the Music Man. He thought about it, I thought about it, we discussed it together and realized him moving in would be a great opportunity for us to give it a shot without the repercussions of being stuck in a lease or a mortgage if it doesn't work out (not that I think there will be a problem but one can never tell).

So last weekend was been about making the decision.
Monday was about being excited.
Tuesday was about being excited and a little afraid.
Today...I'm scared shitless.
NOT because I don't want him to move in. Rather because I DO want him to move in but I've never had this kind of a relationship before. He however has done this a number of times before so he's being cute about it, really calm and collected. Which is good - I need his calm to help alleviate my fears. I know I can make this work but just this morning as I was plowing through my wardrobe for work, him still sleeping, the pile of crap growing on my floor...I realized that the daunting task of downsizing my life was now looming over my head. I have to make room for him and everything he owns. I don't mind really. I can't wait to go to sleep at night knowing that no matter how late it is, eventually he will be there beside me. But good god - where do I begin taking stock of my belongings and evaluating their worthiness and whether they're "couple" material???

So this weekend will be all about sorting STUFF - books, clothes, knick knacks, furniture, shoes, electronic equipment, and mounds of stored junk that have been eternally labeled with "some day"s and "what if"s.

Happy 33rd to ME!
I feel so grown up now.
A real relationship with a real live in boyfriend.
And, all fear aside, words cannot describe how happy and excited I am about the development.

I just hope his patience level is higher than I thought. :)

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!

2006-12-22T09:42:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow morning I am hopping a plane and flying home for the Christmas holiday. I can't wait to see everyone and smother them with kisses! I actually need the visit with my niece and nephew because a few days with them will probably help kill this baby fever nesting syndrome I've got right now...at least for a little while.

So Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone!! I hope you all get to spend some time with people you love.

(Spring, just try not to kill the rugrat while I'm gone...I'm sure she'll do something that will drive you insane. When I get back I'll kidnap you for a much needed girl's night out!).

HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT!!!!!

2006-12-21T14:20:00.000-05:00

As luck would have it I needed to go to the doctors yesterday (Ahhh the ole' UTI - every sexually active woman's worst enemy...)

So I get to the doc's office and after an hour and a half of waiting, they escort me into the back and first things first - throw me up on the scale. Now, I knew I had gained a little weight since I started taking the pill and quit the job from hell in Manhattan. I lost my three miles a day of forced walking and I lost all the stress and depression which kept from eating on so many occasions. Worse yet, I could tell the ole size 10's were starting to actually fit again and the size 8's were just a little bit snug.

The last time I weighed myself I was 145 but I had another burst of weight loss shortly thereafter. I never weighed myself after that so I don't have a clue what my final low weight was. Well, the nurse started pushing all the metal gizmos around on the scale and I weighed in at a whopping ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY EIGHT POUNDS!!!! So that's 13 pounds just that I know about since October 20. It's got to be more than that since I didn't weigh myself after that last little bit came off - I'm guessing about 15-20 pounds total that I've gained.

I tried on all the size 8's after the visit (I hadn't worn them in a few weeks) and - NO GO! They weren't going over my ass! I pulled out an old pair of size 10's that I had to stop wearing because they hung on me like a sloppy drug addict and lo and behold - perfect fit! And fuck, I haven't even bothered with all the tight skinny jeans I've recently purchase. I'm afraid to find out just how bad its gotten.

I am SO FREAKING OUT RIGHT NOW!!

I can't be that person again!
Today's lunch was cottage, fruit and a little water.
But Jesus all the food in my office right now! Cakes, Cookies, Pastries, Bagels, Candies and Chocolates. And come 3pm we're haveing a full catered extravaganza of champagne, shrimp cocktails, hors'dourves, and - of course - deserts.......

Good lord help me through this!!
I think I now hate this time of year.

(Update - the office party consisted of two large trays of shrip, skewered terriaki beef, a veggie platter, 7 trays of sushi, two gourmet cheese platters with cracker, two trays of misc. gourmet cookies, and two trays of eclairs, chocolate dipped canolies, buttecream stuffed tarts and a plethora of other stuffed pastries and petit-fores.)

Comfort vs Closeness

2006-12-19T11:38:00.000-05:00

Me...the Music Man...and a twin sized bed for the night.
Lets just say I didn't sleep well. LOL
I can't gripe though because the closeness was worth it.
However I will never complain about the size of my double bed again! What once seemed so small now proves to be the perfect cozy size for us. We like being close and the few nights we spent in a king sized bed we gravitated together like two magnets so it was all just wasted space. A queen, maybe...but the double gives us enough room to toss and turn but doesn't make it feel like there's an ocean between us.

The twin was fun for the night but I could lay my head down now and just fall asleep...................

A New Twist

2006-12-18T14:27:00.000-05:00

I had been wanting - needing - to tell the Music Man how I feel about him. I've loved him for months, but even in light of the new relationship developments, I was too afraid to open up to him. Truthfully, I thought he'd run because I didn't think he felt as deeply for me - I mean, hell. He only just this past October made up his mind about me and I wasn't ready to risk that by moving too fast. Kind of funny when you consider that we've actually been moving slower than a dead mule this past year...but I've learned that everything happens exactly when and how its supposed to.

So the plan was simple...I was going to tell him for Christmas. I had a gift purchased for just this purpose and was going to incorporate a letter telling him how I feel. I didn't care if it scared him away. I didn't care if he ran kicking and screaming - I couldn't keep it inside any more and I wasn't going to continue hiding my emotions in order to keep from freaking him out. Let him freak damnit! It was time and I didn't care anymore.

But this past Thursday I had the shock of my life. Laying in bed with the Music Man, making out and laughing like kids, he pulls me close to him and said it first...

"I love you"

I was in shock! I knew he cared for me but I had NO clue that he was ready for this. No clue at all. I was so shocked I just laid there staring at him. I couldn't believe I had just heard him say what he did and was convinced I had hallucinated the whole thing. I wanted to say it back but was afraid he say "What?!" and then think I’m crazy because I'm hearing things. But I had to have heard it! I may be crazy but not that crazy...or am I??

Finally, I realized that my boyfriend just told me he loves me but with all my internal analysis of the situation I hadn't said anything back! And now he was looking at me kind of funny and OMG what if he doesn't think I love him because I'd been to befuddled to speak! So finally - FINALLY - I said the words that I've been wanting to say for so long.

"I love you, too".

He just smiled and said "I know." Guess I'm not good at hiding me emotions after all.
The next day, I thought it was all a dream. I called my sister as soon as he left so I could share the news. I told her I couldn't believe he beat me to it. This is the first time in 13 years that I'd heard those words spoken to me. My sister laughed and said:

"I love you, Poopsie!"

Then she threw my four-year-old niece on the phone and made her say it:

"I love you, Aunt Poohy!"

Then she grabbed my grumbling ten-year-old nephew and made him say it:

"Love you, Pooh"

"There" my sister said. "Now you've heard it four times in one day!"
I laughed so hard I started crying.

God I'm so in love, and I'm never letting him go - even if it did take him a year to come around...

I love you, Baby!

Remembering

2006-12-14T11:57:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I remember my dreams when I first wake up. Other times I know I dreamed something but the images are foggy and the details forgotten. Then there are days where I don't know if I dreamed, I don't even think about it, I wake up and go about my morning without it even occurring to me that something wonderful (or horrible) may have happened to me while I slept. And then there are those days where the dreams are all but forgotten, until something happens - a song plays, a scene in a movie, someone says something - which sparks my memory and the dreams come flooding slowly back.

That happened to me today. I didn't even think about my dreams when awoke. I got up and showered, got ready for work, ate breakfast, watched a little morning news, then ran out the door for work. I had been stuck in traffic for a half hour, listening to my morning radio show, when they played that @#$%&#$ Christina Aguilera song that's so popular right now. I'd heard it before and I hate it. I hate it because it's just too fucking sad and depressing and I wish all copies of that song would be erased, burned, melted down, trashed, whatever it takes for them to stop playing it.

Anyway, so the song comes on and as usual I'm about to change the channel when it hits me. Not like "oh yeah" hits me, but rather like "big ass atomic bomb dropping on Hiroshima" hits me. My dream came back to me, but not slow and hazy like normal. It was like I'd flipped to the Dream Channel in my head and everything was high-def and crystal clear.

I dreamed about my grandmother last night.

I was in a warm, wood-paneled room and my mom and my sister and my grandfather along with a few other key relatives were also in the room. My grandmother was sitting in a big chair positioned almost throne-like at the front of the room. She was talking and using her hands to tell a story and her words and motions were fluid and beautiful. She wore an azure dress, her flaming red hear was pronounced and she was - beautiful...I mean, breathtakingly and heartstoppingly beautiful. She was in the later stages of her life but her body showed no signs of those 40 years she spent smoking and drinking. She looked strong and flawless, without the weight of her life of poverty and hard manual labor and emotional scars.

I stood in a back corner but for some reason I knew I was just an observer and no one knew I was there. I remember thinking I should reach out to her and grab a hold of her because even in the dream I knew I didn't have much time left with her. I kept trying to convince myself to rush forward, throw myself at her feet and just gush my love upon her, but I knew even if I had gone to her, she wouldn't have seen me - she wouldn't have felt me, wouldn't have known I was even there. But it didn't really matter because every time I went to move I was enraptured and held captive by her proud matronly posture, her refined wisdom and her timeless beauty. But god, there just wasn't much time left...and I knew it...and I had to reach out to her.

That's all I remembered but it was enough. I had never had such a nerve struck - remembering this dream and hearing that cursed Christina song playing in the background. Now, I've been crying a lot lately over my grandmother (actually, been crying a lot lately over everything because of the damned pill which I only just recently started taking). But today was different. I cried in my car and it was like I had not mourned my grandmother's death until that moment. I felt empty and raw on the inside. I wanted to go back in time and change all those times I didn't go visit with her, all those times I didn't call, all those times I didn't write. I wanted to see her just one more time and tell her all the things I never did and never had a chance to. Then I started to think about all the events in my life she would never attend - she would never meet the Music Man, she would never be at my wedding, she would never meet my children. But most of all I wanted the chance to tell her how much I loved her and how, even with all the ills and signs of a hard life, she was the most beautiful person in the world.

God I ache right now. I miss her so much.

Killer Kicks

2006-12-06T16:00:00.000-05:00

The best thing about a new pair of shoes is when you get stopped and complimented by total strangers. I just love those moments!

I bought these hot babies at JC Penny's where they're have a 50-70% off sale on all boots. Normally $100, I walked away only paying $44 for these...I love them so much I may have to go back for the black pair. The shafts are extra wide so they fit my big-ass calves AND a tucked in pair of skinny jeans (yes, I finally found a couple pair that actually look good on me - also at JC Penneys I might add AND for only $19 bucks a pair!).

The first night I wore these I got stopped at the restaurant by a total stranger to tell me how much she loved my boots. **sigh** Getting compliments on a killer pair of kicks that you own is almost as good as sex...almost...

Definitely need the black pair now.......

Cohabitation

2006-12-01T16:20:00.000-05:00

I have thought a lot recently about the idea of cohabitation. Growing up, and only until recently, my thoughts on the topic of cohabitation were "Nuh-uh...no way...never!" Not because I was morally opposed to the idea, but rather because I thought living with someone first would negate my romanticized ideals of marriage - essentially making it nothing more than a signed piece of paper between us.

Lately though, since I've been with the Music Man, I can't deny I've been thinking how nice it would be to wake up to him every morning...how great it would be to fall asleep each night knowing that, even though his schedule prevents him from being home before I turn in, eventfully I'll feel the gentle movement of the bed and the warmth of his body as he climbs in next to me. We spend most Friday and Saturday nights together and I've gone from sleeping best when I am alone to sleeping best when he's beside me. Don't get me wrong, I think absence is good but I can't seem to shake my newfound desire to "domesticate."

So in the midst of my own conflicts and thoughts about all this, the radio station I listen to each morning was having a discussion recently about the top ten reasons to stay single. Of course singlehood is something I never want to go back to, but one of the main reasons for staying single is time to yourself. The participants went on to discuss how people who live together can smother each other and essentially ruin the relationship because they are always together. One woman did counteract by stating that living together can work provided both parties maintained friendships and interests outside of the relationship. Everyone agreed but then proceeded to pound home their "Stay Single" mantra.

It was then that one of the guys mentioned something that brought back an old memory. He said that one of the great things that comes from living with someone for an extended time are what he calls "oh my god" moments. These occur when your significant other, who you are accustomed to always having with you, is suddenly gone for one reason or another. You see or hear something and think "Oh my god," instictively turning to the space that your partner normally occupies only to realize that they are gone. He mentioned that those moments always leave him longing for his wife - in a good way.

This happened to me once with my last boyfriend. I was nineteen years old. He had graduated college and moved to Georgia for basic training. I was driving down the road alone just days after he left. Without thinking, I reached out beside me to put my hand on his knee only to do a double take when I found nothing but empty seat. His absence was never more pronounced than in that moment...when my most basic of instincts caused me to reach out for him only to find he wasn't there - and as I would later learn, never would be again. I don't remember that being a particularly happy moment.

Anyway, my thoughts are scattered on the topic but the raw truth is I'm ready for something that I never thought I would want. I suppose somewhere down the line this is where problems begin. You've got two people who come from two completely different sets of life experiences. One who's been single her entire adult life - never lived with anyone, never been married - so she has no bad feelings about the idea of either (other than her own internal dialogue which is not backed by personal experience so she's willing to give it a shot). Then you've got another who's been in and out of serious relationships, been married, been burned, is going through a divorce and thusly has no desire to do it all again - and his ideas ARE based on personal experiences so he is even less likely to give it a shot.

Sometimes I hate that I'm still this doe-eyed soul who's had such a sheltered romantic life. I haven't been burned, I haven't been soured and am more willing than I should be to throw caution to the wind. I have to wonder if my inexperience at adult relationships (or rather FAILED adult relationships) has skewed my view. I see rainbows and roses...puppies and kittens and little yellow houses with white picket fences. Someone who's been seriously burned sees rainclouds and prenups...fights and arguments and the inevitiable breakup.

But where does the truth lie?
Somewhere in the middle I suppose....

Turkey Day Wrap-Up

2006-11-29T12:02:00.000-05:00

So my holiday was great. I spent turkey day with my roommate, her boyfriend, and both sets of families at his parent’s house. First off, the entire day was amazing. I keep saying it was very "Norman Rockwell." Lots of laughter, hugging, story telling, and eating. Both my roommate and her boyfriend’s parents are still married. I was amazed by this and even more amazed by the way both families interacted with each other...as if they were long time friends who felt truly comfortable in each other’s company.

I enjoyed being upstate with all of them, but when I returned I realized it left me feeling lonely and envious...

Lonely because I missed my family back in Florida, I missed my boyfriend who was at work, and I missed my friends scattered about the country.

Envious because I want so much that sort of home environment for myself. I want the house and the big cozy kitchen. I want the living room with the fireplace or wood burning stove. I want the big windows, the extra bedrooms, the driveway and the back yard. And I want an open door policy for all my friends and family to stop in and spend the holidays - or any days - with me.

More than anything it left me envious for more than the house - it left me wanting a family of my own - even if that family is just me, him, two dogs and a cat.

I Give Up!

2006-11-16T20:49:00.000-05:00

I have to bitch. Truthfully I want to fling myself to the ground flopping and wailing like a kid but if I have any control over myself, it will be to prevent such an outburst...albeit not by much.

But I'm about to bitch about something that I know a lot of you might not relate to.

I'm a gamer. I play video games till my eyes cross and my thumbs go numb. I can sit hours at a time working my way through level after level, or chapter after chapter of an engrossing title. I LOVE getting lost in a game where the puzzles and challenges are tough and the expansive story arcs blow your mind with their intricacies. The longest game I ever played was a brilliant peice of work called Kingdom Hearts (Square Enix rocks!). Imagine being thrown into a world of evil where you must keep the "Darkness" from stealing peoples hearts (souls) and your counterparts are Goofy, Donald Duck, Peter Pan, Beast, and a few other Disney characters. It was amazing that they pulled that piece of art off. The original is now considered a PS2 classic (as it should be) and was so well received a second one followed suit not to long ago. I believe I logged well over 70 hours on the original title - and no, not in one sitting...I'd be a total fat-ass if that were the case. Although I do recall putting in 5-8 hours on more than one occasion while tooling around in that world.

Anyhoo...to continue with the fricken bitchin'...

I purchased a new game last weekend - Shadow of the Colossus. The point of the game is no more convoluted than most other games. Save the dead/dying princess by killing all the big stone statues that lumber around the earth making everything shake when they walk near you...stab em with your special sword in their special spots - spots that are exposed when you catch the sun and shine it on the beast with your sword thus illuminated for the duration of the battle - and all this because some voice from the heavens told you that this was how to save your rotting girlfriend.

Ok, so there you have it. The "plot." Until last night the execution was divine. Enjoyable - just enough difficulty to keep you frustrated and feeling challenged but not so much that you wanted to throw your damn controller across the room. Notice I said "until last night."

FOUR HOURS

Two hours last night and two hours tonight spent trying to kill one particular colossus. You climb up these fuckers being careful to mind your grip strength - indicated so annoyingly by the dissolving puple circle in the lower right hand corner. When the circle become a pin-prick and you hear that damn bling, bling, bling...you're about to be fucked if you don't get to flat ground soon (the fuckers are so big they have little walls and platforms built on em...yeah, I know...oh so realistic).

So this new fucker is a bird. A big fat stone bird flapping his big-ass wings around a big-ass lake that YOUR little ass has to navigate. First you've got to get yourself ON him - no prob, just pull out your bow and arrow and get his attention by shooting him up the ass or something. This pisses the fucker off and he swoops down at you to peck your eyes out, only being the brilliant hero that you are, you get the wise idea to jump and "grip" hold of him...notice I said grip. Ok, so there you are on this big ass stone bird flapping his big as wings while you try and hold on for dear life. Ultimately the goal is to get yourself to the tip of each wing...each flapping wing...and stab that god forsaken symbol with your fucking sword and hope it takes the goddamned mother fucking bird down!

AAAARRRRRGHGGGH!!!!!

I said flapping...as in moving...as in you gotta hold on and use your grip. The goddamned wing is flapping and moving and crinkling up and knocking your sorry ass for a loop. And lets not to mention the head wind that knocks you off if you let go (letting go for an extended amount of time replenishes said "grip" strength). So I give up! Can't take it! My head hurts and my thumbs are stiff...I'm gonna go pig out on malted milk balls and watch CSI. Tomorrow...I'm buying some cheats and knocking that fucker to the moon...to the goddamned MOON...

(Ok, so maybe I can't avoid the tantrum after all.......)

Sleep

2006-11-09T21:49:00.000-05:00

Ok, the winter sleep cycle is trying desperately to take hold of me early this year.
Last night I was in bed and turning out the light at 7:30 pm.
This morning I had to force myself to get up at 6:30am.
I slept solid the whole time and could've kept on sleeping.
It was nice but made me feel guilty for some odd reason.
I don't have a husband or kids to worry about so sleeping so much shouldn't be a problem.
But I guess sleeping so much reminds me that I don't have much of a life either.
I think I'd rather have the husband and kids.
A reason to stay up late and to wake up early.
A burly man in my bed and a bunch of snotty nosed kids filling my house with laughter...
...and my life with meaning....

Jesus...I think I'm starting to hear it.
The unmistakable tick-tick-ticking.
And all because I slept for as long as I wanted to.

Tonight I'm forcing myself to stay awake.

Wouldn't You Know It

2006-11-07T20:31:00.000-05:00

I thought 30 days was a short window for waiting for my health insurance to kick in. Other than the last gig, all my other jobs had a 90 day wait period. So I was happy to hear 30 days and knew it would be no big deal. But wouldn't you fucking know it I've just noticed something wrong with me.

Not to be gross here...ok, fuck it...to be totally gross here, I'm having some kind of very, very, very light bleeding. Nothing major. In fact its so light I had to do a double take when I wiped (yes I look, just in case such an instance should occur) just to be sure I saw what I thought I saw and it wasn't just the lighting.

Over the weekend I started to feel weird crampy things in my abdomen. Not quite as severe as starting my period but definitely something out of the ordinary. More of a persistent nagging than an outright cramp, I occasionally feel like someone is gently tugging on the ole uterus from the inside.

Then the crazy spotting started. We're talking so light you'd have to be a color expert to see that there was a little pale pink mixed in with the expected white/clear/yellow (I know, I know, if you got a tender stomach, you should've stopped a while back). Even now I'm not 100% sure that it's blood but the color is definitely off and leaning more into the red-hued direction, and I'm damn sure not about to run around with a used up piece of toilet paper asking my roommates "Hey, does this look like blood to you???" So I'm guessing here that this is what it had to be. And its nowhere near time for my period to start. That's still another two weeks away.

So anyway, I think a trip to the doc is in order but can't afford the visit and the insurance doesn't kick in for another 23 days. I'm thinking its the pill. I started taking it again a little over two weeks ago. Which probably explains not only this but also the the bloating, the voracious appetite and the mild morning sickness I've been having the past few days. And no, I'm not knocked up.

You know, sometimes I just hate being a woman.

Speaking of the pill, I've been doing a little research and have learned about tricyling (great article here)...meaning instead of taking the week of sugar pills, you roll right over into your next months pack. Apparently the period we have during the sugar pill phase is not a real period and the pill was designed this way because they thought women would feel more comfortable if they still had their period every month. FUCK THAT! Take mine away! So apparently you can skip the sugar pills all together and go pack to pack for months. They suggest doing three months then take your week of sugar pills meaning you only have FOUR periods a year rather than one each month. I'm damn sure gonna give this shit a whirl!

The End of a Fabulous Week and a Slight Change in Thought (Dreams)

2006-11-02T21:20:00.000-05:00

The first week on the new job has been great. The boss is fabulous compared to the ones I had previously...but then I've gone from working for two New York female executives to working for one male executive. I can't tell you how many times us executives assistants exlaim to our career-sisters that working for a woman is like working for the devil...in fact, I am conviced that Satan is a woman CEO.

Other than the commute, the location is fabulous. I have a direct view from my desk of the Connecticut harbor complete with endless blue sea and a plethora of boats and yachts. The building environment is cozy because everyone refuses to use overhead lights and all the offices are warmly lit with a variety of floor and table lamps. The office temperature is kept comfortably warm as opposed to the arctic hell I left behind. And I can actually get up and leave my desk to walk around some without feeling guilty because my phones can ring all the hell they want to and the voicemail is allowed to pick it up rather than a live person.

Some pros about the job itself is that I've learned my salary is based off of a 35 hour work week (my hours are 9-5 with an hour for lunch), thus my hourly rate is nearly $4.00 more an hour. I get paid additional (at my base rate) for any hours worked over 35 and time and a half kicks in for any hours over 40 (I didn't receive ANY O.T. at my last job). If I work 40 hour weeks then I calculated I would make $300 more per paycheck or $7800 a year. BUT...truthfully, I like only working 7 hours a day. I like that I've been getting home each night at or before 6pm. Those of you who knew my prior situation know this is a BIG deal.

The benefits are also incredible. Vacation package is good (two weeks), paid holidays are pretty great (11 full days, 4 half days, and 4 personal holidays). They have a tuition reimbursement program, and an adoption assistance program (which I wish I could give to my best friend in N.C. who's just learned she can't have children). The best of all these is the health insurance. Every job I've had in florida had a plan where the individual was covered 100% but families (spouse and kids) was only partially covered. My sisters family pays nearly $300 a month for their family plan working for the state of Florida. My last job here in New York only did an 80% individual and family coverage with a huge deductible, so people were paying out the wazoo to keep their families healthy. But...

My new insurance kicks in after just 30 days and it pays 100% of all medical, dental, vision for BOTH individuals and family plans with nothing more than a $10 co-pay each visit! I'm not married and I don't have kids, but truthfully, one of the big factors keeping me from having any were the costs of keeping your family healthy (well, that few hundred dollar expense in addition to daycare, clothing and saving for their education). Additionally their maternity leave program works similiar to short-term disability - 10 weeks off at 100% your salary and if wanted up to an additional 16 weeks at 50%. I don't know that I'll ever be in a position to take full advantage of these benefits (meaning I don't believe I'm ever going to be married or have kids) but after seeing what my sister goes through to pay into their insurance and hearing the complaints of struggling parents at past jobs, I can at least appreciate that for some people this is a big deal...not to mention the emergency daycare they offer (at yet just another $10 co-pay for the whole day) where parents who run into a jam can bring their kids into work and leave them at the daycare. There is an annual cap on this ($300 max) but 30 visits is a lot of life saving visits for the single parent who suddenly finds there's no daycare that day. I adore how family oriented this place is. Almost makes me want to think (dream) about the future a little more than I have allowed myself to in the past.

Anyway, there's tons more - like a cafeteria on the harbor with outside seating (with great food that I know will help me get fat...their homemade peanut butter cookies are already a fav of mine), friendly co workers, and a workload that balances my need to breathe with my need to stay occupied and feel more important than just a "secretary." This will definitly be a role that I can grow into so much more.

I believe what makes me happier than anything else is that I am, for once, looking forward to the weekend...but simply because its the weekend - not because it means I've escaped another long horrible week in hell. I can actually enjoy the time off I have now and maybe, just maybe, Sundays will become Sundays again instead of those dreaded pre-mondays.

Something Beautiful

2006-10-30T20:23:00.000-05:00

I didn't blog after I returned from my trip last week because I just haven't been bitten by the writing bug in a while. Even now I'm forcing myself to pull some thoughts together but I'm fighting myself to just keep going here so please forgive the not so great prose. It's like that part of my brain that liked to write is just gone now and I don't know where it went. Ah, well. Hopefully soon it will return.

The week off was great. I left Friday for Woodstock with the Music Man where we enjoyed each others company non-stop for four days. We had spent an entire week out of contact and away from each other while the Germans were here and when we were finally able to come together it felt like we were throwing ourselves into each others arms. It was indescribable... amazing... incredible...

I guess I noticed a change in him about a month ago. He seemed to be getting more attached to me but still not real vocal about anything to do with an "US." He had a wall up between us for so long that I never even noticed it was there. I had nothing to compare it to really so I just assumed things were great between us for so long and would get wrecked every time he would pull away or try pushing me away. I must admit the signals were mixed for so very long...just enough good to keep me around, but more than enough bad to keep me miserable.

But the walls have finally come down. At least, most of them have. And thank god, because I don't know how much longer my faith in him (in the potential for "us") would've allowed me to hang on. I was close to walking, closer than I ever really wanted to admit to myself. But - therein lies our story and thankfully things can only get better from here.

Its interesting how much experiencing a real emotional connection with someone can change everything. The way we interact with each other. The little no-reason touches. And the sex is un-fucking-believable. To be so in tune with someone that you need only lay still with them inside you and the intensity becomes more earth-shattering than any night spent having wild and athletic, how-fast-and-hard-can-I-fuck-you sex. It was...I don't know what it was because I've never felt it before...ever...in my entire life.

So the walls are down and its like I'm with a new man. Don't get me wrong, he was amazing before this, but there is something so different about him now. Something so solid and here (if that makes any sense). I suppose before I was merely dating a ghost of a man, only I didn't realize it. Kind of like how you adjust to the wattage of a small lamp thinking "this is good enough" then someone comes and flips on the main light and you're like "AH HA! So THIS is light!"

He still has a lot of things he's trying to work out, but at least now the mystery of me...the confusion of "us"...has been resolved. There was that moment yesterday when we unfolded ourselves from the warmth of his car and began to walk the trail around the water reserve. I looked at him now a few paces ahead of me and my chest exploded, my face wanting to betray the giddy emotional drunkenness that suddenly presented itself deep within my core. I sidled up beside him and slid my arm around his waist my head resting gently against his shoulder...

I heard him say "Yes?"
And all I could manage was "Just wanted to be close to you."
It was just...
Something Beautiful.

He is my Music Man, my Gentle Giant, and I hope never to be without him again.

Poor Thing

2006-10-25T17:32:00.000-05:00

I got a call from my dad. My four-year-old niece is in the hospital and will be there for a few days. Apparently she's been running a fever, throwing up and complaining of a headace. This morning the headache had her screaming so my sister rushed her to the emergency room.

The final diagnosis was viral menengitis.
Thank god it wasn't the bacterial kind. The viral strain will run its course and she'll be good as new in a week or two. It's the bacterial kind that can cause brain damage and death.

From what I've been told she'll be just fine and is being quite the little trooper, even though she's a little lethargic. Wish I could be there with them.

Sometimes I miss my family so much it hurts. The picture below is me and the niece when I was home last April. I can't believe its been that long since I've seen them.

A Toast!

2006-10-20T20:38:00.000-05:00

Today was my last day at the old job. I thought this week would never end - for more than reasons that just the job.

A short synopsis of what I haven't gotten around to writing about...

The Music Man has another woman in his life that was around before he met me. He met her years ago when he lived overseas in Germany. She still lives there and was in town with girlfriends this week. I was worried - although he told me not to because this thing with her was pretty much over. I knew things were changing between us...becoming more emotionally and physically intense but I still had no confidence that what I have to offer would win out over their history.

So...I worried. ALL week I worried. And it was miserable! Essentially, with no contact with him I had little choice but to fill in the blanks with my imagination and the images were tearing me apart.

But he called today. The germans are gone, dropped off at the aiport and heading for home...she probably never to return. He picked up on something in my voice while we talked about the weekend and shortly after we hung up he called me back . He told me that I sounded nervous and that he wanted me to know that he realized this week that I was the one for him.

What that means...I don't know. Are we starting a relationship?? I don't know. Do I even want a relationship with him?? Oh-my-god yes! We're going away together for the next few days so I hope during this time these questions will be answered.

So I'm raising my imaginary glass and toasting...
Here's to ending an old job that sucked!
Here's to starting a new job that will be amazing!
Here's to a week off and a new car!
And here's to hoping that this trip is the beginning of an amazing relationship!

Still Got It

2006-10-18T12:19:00.000-05:00

God bless construction workers.

"Hola bonita!"
"Baby, I looooove you..."
"Te quiero Mucho!"

Light beige slacks that hang just right
Tight forest-green baby tee
Figure forming, feminine cut jean jacket
Pointy toed light brown shoes
Killer earrings and wild curly hair...

"Damn, baby!"
"Oh I want me some of that..."

No matter what happens this week
Its nice to know
I STILL GOT IT.

Sunday

2006-10-15T19:29:00.000-05:00

Sundays used to be my favorites days of the week.
Sundays were the days I would lay around the house, relaxing after a busy Saturday of house cleaning, running errands, and on some occasions, going out with the girls.
Sundays were about recharging and not letting the world make me feel that I had to be a "body in motion" or that I was wasting my life away by just...vegging out.

Because my Sundays were about "home."
And I loved that.
Waking up and watching an early morning movie while sipping hot tea and eating cereal.
Booting up the PS2 and getting lost in some fantasy world where I must shoot shit to survive.
Curling up on the sofa and reading that book I'd neglected all week.
Watching another movie while munching popcorn, potato chips, pretzels and whatever else junk food might be in the house.
And all this before 11 a.m.

Lately though Sundays have become something much less relaxing.
They're not Sundays at all really...but rather pre-Mondays.
Unable to enjoy the day given to me because I'm fretting about the week to come.

I had thought today might be different with the new job on the horizon, and this coming week being the last one I have to endure the office from hell. But I still found myself in a crummy mood.

I tried to escape. I packed up my journal and empty notebook and headed to a coffeehouse in Peekskill. I thought listening to some music, sipping on a cappuccino, and writing would lift the spirits.

Funny though...it only made it worse.
Mainly because when I put my pen to paper and tried to write, I was immobilized by...
fuck, I don't know what!
Fear?
Ignorance?
Lack of Creativity?

Whatever the hell it was I couldn't string together two words that felt right.
The music was good - it too just didn't feel right.
The cappuchino was delicions - just didn't feel right.
And the pen in my hand...the blank page before me...
I felt like I was staring at a total stranger.
And it just didn't FEEL right!

Words aren't unknown to me.
I've always been comforted by the fact that when I put my mind to it, I can create something amazing.
And I had hoped that I would leave there with a completed first draft of a new poem for the Music Man. Or at least a good start on one.

What did I get???

My creativity is gone! What do I do???
Poetry...I want to write for you but I'm empty
So tired
Nine hours sleep and ready for bed
Where am I??

How's that for some deep fucking shit??

Jesus.
After that I packed it up and left (ran) for the safety of home.

All my life I was going to be a writer.
Yet words aren't so friendly with me anymore.

I'm hoping today's dissapointment was merely the symptom of an entirely different situation.
My mind has been with him most of the day.
Where is he?
Where is she?
Where did they sleep last night?

What would bother you more about the person you care about sharing his/her bed with someone else??
Would it be the physical intimacy that could happen?
Or the inherent emotional intimacy that comes from such a situation??
What shocked me most today was the realization that I'm not so hung up on the thought of him fucking someone else (although I'm certainly not condoning it)
But rather the thought of them lying side by side...
Arms about each other...
Feet reaching out and touching in that "middle of the night justing making sure you're still here" kind of way.

The image of him holding her body while they sleep worries me so much more than than the image of anything sexual that could happen between them.

He says its over with them. What's left are years of friendship that he understandably wants to keep...a history that I refuse to come between.
But she isn't even here to visit with him.
So why can't she just stay at her hotel with the friends she came with?
Why the hell is this bothering me?
And why the fuck do I keep thinking

Where is he?
Where is she?
Where did she sleep last night?

And where will she sleep tonight?

Today Was a Good Day

2006-10-10T19:55:00.000-05:00

Today was a good day!
A new job offer...
Spending a little bit of the beautiful afternoon with my guy...
McDonalds for lunch (a caloric luxury for me)...

sigh

Yes, I was offered the job today in Stamford. Not quite as much as I had hoped but I feel like an idiot whining over a measly 2 grand. I will now be making $8,000 more a year (I had hoped for $10K more). But cest la vie. The job will be fabulous.

My music man drove me to my interview to save on a rental car and offered to take me to work afterwards. Of course, the good news made me not give a damn when I got back to work and me in a suit and heels had him on fire so lets just say we had an incredible afternoon before I finally dragged myself into the office. Hopefully no one noticed my disheveled hair and dopey-ass grin, or if they did...I'm sure they just figured I was all twinkley-eyed from the new job.

sigh

I start the new job October 30th. My last day with the current job is October 20th. I hope to spend as many of those days as possible in between with him...lying naked with him in bed or walking hand in hand while we shop or gazing into his crystal blue eyes from across a cafe tab le...but never more than an arm's length away so I can reach out and pull him to me whenever he looks at me just right in that way that he does...

sigh

Today was a good day...

Gotta love nooners
(and McDonalds)

A New Toy

2006-10-07T17:54:00.000-05:00

So the past week has been a flurry of activity. The best being some time I spent with the ex-roomie up in Woodstock this past Monday and Tuesday. Something incredible is happening between us. I can't quite write about it yet as I'm still trying to get a firm understanding of things. But I mentioned to my friend Rachel in North Carolina that although I've dated a lot and have developed some incredibly strong feelings for men in the past, there is something very different here. I can't put my finger on it, but its unlike anything I have ever experienced before. Perhaps it is because for once it seems as if someone may be feeling something in return, which is a new one for me. But I fear ruining it by saying something too soon, or reading too much into things. But god its amazing.

On the job front, I had a great interview on Wednesday for a new job. Its a large established company so I wouldn't have to worry about stability like I would with CJ's job. Speaking of - I haven't heard from him since I met with him and his partner Thursday a week ago. That meeting went well and his partner is very odd, but nice in his quirky way. When I left I was told that they were waiting for the funding to come through on their entertainment venture at which time they'll move forward with bulking up on staff. I realized I couldn't wait around for his job to pan out so I decided to keep looking. Thank god because I had an incredible interview for a new job this past Wednesday and I'm pretty sure I got it. It's in Stamford and the hours are 9-5 and the pay will be between $8-10K more than I'm making now. Can't beat that!

The only downside is that I'd have to get a car. Not that big a deal really even at my current salary so the pay increase would certainly make owning a car easy. So, the ex-roomie and I spent the day today at Toyota. And pending things go the way I think they will next week after my second interview, this bad boy is mine...the 2007 Toyota Yaris in Flint Micha (exactly as shown above). Actually, the paperwork is signed, the down payment arranged, the only thing waiting now is them to prep the car and me to get car insurance. Most likely I'll walk (drive) away with this car later this week even if things fall through with the other job. The car was too cute and it felt too good to be driving. Also, if the current position doesn't work out, owning a car will make it a lot easier to keep looking for a job outside of Manhattan. So far I've had to rent cars each time and I've probably spent well over $500 just in the past month on rentals. So fuck it...I'm keeping her either way!! :) WooHoo!

A Not-So-Awkward Moment

2006-09-27T19:06:00.000-05:00

I had an interview of sorts Tuesday evening. Turns out I have a job opportunity in the most unlikely of places...my last Dom...the un-ex Ex. (Additional backstory here...Interesting how both entries are entitled "Missing Him"...never noticed that before).

Essentially, he contacted me about a position he has available with an attorney he just partnered with. The pay would be good (more than I thought I could make) and the hours even better (9 to 5 or 5:30 at the latest). I pondered his offer for a bit then bravely suggested that the two of us meet to discuss this amongst ourselves before I even think about waltzing in for a meeting with both him and his partner together. It wouldn't exactly be easy to interview with someone I know - especially when the last time he saw me I was stripped to my underwear cooking dinner and wearing his collar. The opportunity sounded great but I was concerned whether or not I could work with him in a professional environment without some debilitating level of awkwardness.

So we met in Grand Central for drinks Tuesday night to discuss the job, how we've each been, and...unavoidably...us. I arrived first and managed to work myself into a panic - sweating and nervous that this was going to be an excruciating experience. I worried not so much though that the awkwardness would get the best of me and ruin the evening, but that it would get the best of me and ruin the job.

The first thing I noticed when he arrived (besides that I had forgotten how short he is) was that I had forgotten how great he looks. We hugged, smooched cheeks, and as I lowered myself into my chair the sweating suddenly stopped and a calm assurance desceded upon me. Here before me was a beautiful man who once ruled my world...someone who I had given more of myself to than any other man. I felt the biggest, dumbest smile play across my lips and I knew to him I looked like an enamored teenager - or the Cheshire cat, one.

Truth is, I was enamored, but not the way one might think. When he walked up and we hugged, the calm that helped to steady me wasn't him...but rather the thought of someone else. The goofy grin that invaded my face wasn't because I was happy to see him again, but because I was longing to see someone else and it felt fucking incredible to know that...to feel so strongly in that moment for this other person rather than the one before me.

My Nilla ex-roomie.
My amazing Gentle Giant.
He wasn't even there that night but he saved me nonetheless.

Soooo...CJ and I spoke and the discussion was comfortable and easy. We discussed the job for a while then moved on to the more interesting (for him) topics of how we've each been these past 9 months. We both realized we felt comfortable being around each other and he commented that we were more like two old friends rather than "ex"s. I wanted to argue that we weren't exactly exes because we were never a committed couple but figured I'd let sleeping dogs lie and get on with charming him for his job.

We discussed the lifestyle and he asked if I had given it up. That big goofy grin came back when I answered matter-o-factly "Yeah...I sure did." He, of course, wanted to know why. I told him the truth...that I learned what was missing from our relationship - an intense level of vanilla intimacy - ended up being what I needed more than anything else. I learned that I need an emotional connection filled with laughter and passion more than I need the pain and the submission. I told him about my Music Man and Gentle Giant (pet names left out of it of course) and that after having what I've had with him...after feeling the way he sometimes reaches out and touches me for no reason...kisses me in a way that weakens my knees...makes love to me in a way that sends me to the moon and makes me shake for hours...theres no way I'd ever want to go back.

I think he was envious. Not of me...I already meantioned that we both realized that we're just great friends. But he was envious because he wants the same connection someday but his drive for control, his need to own and dominate prevents him from ever really connecting with someone on a deeper level. I pity him really and hope he finds what he truly wants. But I also respect him as a friend and appreciate all he's done for me.

So I left there feeling incredible. The job might be a real possibility and I realized I could actually do the job and do it well. And I realized that there is this amazing man in my life that I would do anything for and some day hope to be brave enough to spill out all the words I've been dying to say to him.

But, and perhaps this is a story for another day, there are still some roadblocks between the ex-roomie and I right now. Things are good but I'm scared because in the next few weeks everything could change between us...

Update

2006-09-26T19:20:00.000-05:00

I can't exactly say a lot has happened the past couple of weeks, but I can say that a lot has change - with me at least.

I had a moment two Saturdays ago. I woke up alone and spent the morning busying myself with housework and chores, trying without success to ignore the silence around me. Eventually I decided to take the bus across the bridge to the Palisades mall. I had been wanting to do this for some time but am always busy on Satudays (the Tappan Zee express doesn't run on Sundays).

As it was, I arrived at the mall and spent only an hour walking around, pretending I was in the mood to shop...pretending I didn't notice the couples, the families, the groups of friends around me. I made my way to the food court, planning to eat before I left. But as I sat there, a piece of pizza before me, watching the ferris wheel go round and round, listening to the mothers laughing with their children behind me and the slow music being piped through the speakers, I suddenly realized I was worse than lonely - I was completely and totaly alone.

The rest of the day and night is a blur. I left the mall in a depressed stupor, made my way home and eventually decided to have Chinese for dinner. I remember walking across the street and ordering up something new, then sitting down at the one tiny table the establisment had and waiting...and waiting...and thinking...and drifting... Eventually I felt a hand on my sholder and a strange voice speaking to me in broken english "You ok, Maam?" When I looked up at him, confused by his question he responded by putting a finger to his cheek and saying "You ok? The tears..." I was crying. I had gone so far into myself, so deep I had fogotten where I was and what I was doing, capable of nothing else but feeling the rotten core within me. I smiled, thanked him, took my food and left.

That night I researched online for medication. I'm not ready yet to go phamasuticals again so I looked for something homeopathic for stress, anxiety and depression. I found some items, purchased them and had them sent to me via overnight delivery. Pretty pricey but I figured something is better than nothing at this point and it was time to do something to pull myself out of the pit I've managed to land myself in.

I've been on it all now for a little over a week and truthfully I noticed a difference on day three. By day four the people in my office commented that I seemed to be in a good mood and I wanted to say (shout rather) it's not a good mood...its just ME. I definitely still ride the wave. I don't think that will ever change with me - the rapid cycling in and out of moods. But I'm not waking up wishing I had a hot poker to shove through my eye, or that a bus would smoosh me like a pooh-cake on the way to work. I'm not a fool to believe that a homeopathic regimin for my issues will ever work as well as pharmasuticals, but I also know that there are no side effects right now (unlike my recent experience with Cymbalta...that was a nightmare!) and any improvement is better than none at all.

On top of that improvement, I've put other plans in motion. I'm joining the YMCA next door on payday and siging up for personal training once the job situation is remedied (meaning once I can be home before 8pm at night). I'm also going to start taking piano lessons, something I've always wanted to do. Of course neither of these are things I can start right away, but once the job situation is fixed...I think I'll be able to start living again.

So the depression is on the mend and I'm taking action to do things that will further enrich my quality of life. I'm excited about learning the piano. I always swore when I had a family of my own, our home would be one filled with music and laughter and so much love we'd be swimming in it. But I never received the guitar I asked for for Christmas, and I was never given lessons for the piano that was purchased for my sister. I only hope with practice my fingers will be as nimble and talented as they would've been if I had started playing at a much younger age. But damnit, even if my family is only me...I want there to be music in my home...music that I make and enjoy if for no other reason than to pull myself away from the drudgery and weariness of life.

Also, pending nothing horrible happens on the job front forcing me to do otherwise, I'm staying in New York. When my head cleared I remembered that I promised myself I'd give this move five years. One down - four to go....

I know this is rambling bad writing, but I'm tired of editing. I just wanted to get this out of me so I could move on. Got other stuff to say and to write about.

2006-09-13T19:11:00.000-05:00

But he that dares not grasp the thorn

Should never crave the rose

~Anne Bronte~

I read this today.

And it moved me.

Beyond words.

Thought I'd share.

(Going back on hiatus now)

Hiatus

2006-09-11T16:15:00.000-05:00

I won't be writing much for a while - not that I've been writing all that much lately as it is.

Got hit with a third dose of reality in the wee hours this morning.
I'm in a very dark place right now.
I mean...VERY.

My writing would be nothing the average, sane person would care to read so I choose to keep this phase of my life private right now. Curious that some of us seem to be going through this kind of thing at the very same time. Maybe its contagious...and why bring the world down with me?

So I'm going on writing hiatus. And for those of you I actually hang with - I don't know how social I'm going to be for a while. I have a lot on my mind and a lot to sort through. One of the biggest being whether or not I am stying in New York. Yes, I'm seriously considering moving back to Tallahassee. It seems the moons have aligned themselves in such a way that my internal compus is pointing me in that direction...

Towards home...

Because right now the only place that feels like home isn't a place at all...its a person.

So much to think about.

I think I need to shut out the world for the time being before I spread my disease.

Good Morning!

2006-09-09T07:34:00.000-05:00

Jesus, 8:30 am and I'm awake. WIDE awake.
I love it when I go to bed at a decent time on the weekend and wake up naturally so early. I feel I have an entire day to do the things I need to do rather than just a few hours.

But right now all I want to do is make some tea, eat some ceral, call some family and enjoy the mild chill in the air (and forget about the job hunt for a little while).

I love this time of year!

Solution without a resolution

2006-09-08T21:25:00.000-05:00

Got hit with a double dose of reality today.
Time to wake up and smell the roses - or coffee, or horseshit...whatever you want to call it.

The first is my job. I took a moment on Wednesday to open up to my boss and tell her that this isn't working out. She was understanding and eerily supportive saying she would talk with HR and see if there is anywhere else in the company to put me. This resulted in a meeting early today with me, the boss, and HR.

The end result? Simply - there is nowhere to put me. No other jobs are available with the company that they think I'd do well to fill. Not a problem as I don't want to work in Manhattan anymore anyway. Being there everyday (or at least 5 days a week) has made the city lose most of its magic. I liked it best when it was a mystery to me, untouched by familiarity....when I was wandering the streets as a wide-eyed tourist rather than a seasoned resident.

So whatever. It is what it is and the the solution with HR, the boss and myself was that they would start looking...I would start looking, neither abandoning the other. At least I get a great reference out of my boss. But it hit me hard that - holy shit! I've quit my job and have to find something new pretty quickly in case they fill the position before I move on. Nah...no pressure there. No immediate resolution on this one.

The other dose? Fuck, I don't know if I'd call it bitter or sweet. But it was certainly an eye opener.

An email. From the ex roomie. Closing with one simple line...

...i have to talk to you about something...

It's amazing what words like that can do to you. A simple sentence - no harm no foul. Could be good, could be bad. But I, the enduring pessimist, thought the worst. I wish I could come close to describing the way my heart sank into the very pit of my stomach. But that would be like trying to describe the color white or explain the smell of clean air. Both of these are simple definitions for the lack of something...

Lack of color equals white.
Lack of fragrance and odors equals clean air.
So I suppose what I felt could be described in much the same way because what I was feeling was a lack of...him. For a short while I believed what was a happy status quo was coming to an end.

The end result wasn't nearly so bad, though not especially great (I'll get through it - I did last time). It wasn't over and I felt foolish for assuming the worst. But then I realized I was still upset and it hit me - its not so much this other person as it is realizing that I'm latching on - yet again. And just once, just once, I'd like to know what its like to feel someone latching back.

Ugh.
Just some inner dialogue here.
Sometimes I feel so retarded.

So yeah, two doses of reality today.
Gotta deal with the job
and deal with myself about him.

Blah, blah, blah.

And maybe tomorrow reality will be gone and I can go back to la-la land.

Dear God...

2006-08-29T19:47:00.000-05:00

I need help.
I can't do this anymore by myself.
I feel so...broken.
This is beyone my ability to cope.

Please make it end.

Amen

Finding Myself

2006-08-28T20:29:00.000-05:00

I found myself this weekend...actually, she found me.

I woke up Saturday morning and realized I felt amazing and incredible. I mean blissfully, completely, and totally happy. I'm not sure what exactly brought her my way or how she managed to escape but I was so glad to see her. So much so that I spent the entire day on manic high (the good kind, not the bipolar kind, folks - I'm fucked but not that fucked). I cleaned, I played, I walked, I danced in the living room, I shopped, I joked, I laughed...god did I laugh...

And it felt so damn good.
I was back.
Me
The same me who I thought I somehow left behind in Tallahassee because I haven't seen her since.

I suppose a lot of things brought her out to visit...
...a great interview Friday afternoon...
...spending time with the girls Friday night...
...seeing the ex-roomie, A, later that same night...
...waking up beside him the next morning...
...getting out of bed and letting him sleep, knowing I could leave and do what I needed to and he'd still be there, beautiful, strong and peaceful...
...sitting in the kitchen, the fall-like chill in the air as I sat by the window talking to my sister, sipping hot green tea...

sigh

It was a great weekend!

But...she didn't stay long. She hovered about me for most of the day, even lingered through part of Sunday, but eventually the anxiety and fear of facing the new work week descended upon me and dissolved her. She vanished - absorbed back into the muck and grime she had escaped from.

I want her back.
I want me back.
For good.

Single Digits...or Really??

2006-08-22T20:24:00.000-05:00

Ok. I did it. I finally went shopping for new pants. I've had a problem with all my current pants fitting me. Not that they've gotten too tight - but just the opposite. I started losing weight back in January when the benefit of walking three miles a day from Grand Central to the office finally began to kick in. I didn't really notice the change - just that my pants were starting to hang a bit.

Then March, April and May hit. And with those months came a serious bout of depression - actually perhaps a couple bad spells. I wasn't eating much. Stayed in my room hiding except when I was forcing myself to be social. By June I realized my pants were now beyond loose. They were hanging on me. And not just a little...a lot. I mean too much for it to look neat or professional. I tried using belts so I could go as long as possible. I even contemplated trying to gain the weight back to save money. I mean hell...these were my size 10's which is a damn good size for me to be being as I was once an 18.

So I finally broke down and bought some more pants. I didn't want to spend the money but truthfully I was looking like a crack addict with my pants hanging so low. I thought I would just need a new brand of size 10's because my thighs are huge. I've lost no weight there. But imagine my surprise to go trying shit on and learn that I'm now in single digits. I haven't been in single digits since I was in my early 20's. I was shocked.

BUT - there isn't much consolation because the stores do what's called "vanity sizing". I hate that the stores do this. Marilyn Monroe was a size 14 or 16, but by today's standards she was our size 10. I googled Ms. Monroe and found this blurb:

"The standards for women's dress sizes have not remained constant over the years; they have changed as the size and shape of the average woman has changed. (Clothing manufacturers assume most women don't want to wear clothing of a size identified as "Large," for example, so they adjust their sizing so that the average-sized woman takes a "Medium." If the size of the average woman has increased a bit over the years, then the very same size that was a "Large" fifty years ago might be a "Medium" today. This is sort of what has happened to women's dress sizes since the 1940s: a woman who weighs more now than she did twenty years ago might actually be wearing a smaller dress size today.) "

But I can't say as I blame the sizing experts. It's pure genius really. I mean, if I wear a size 10 at Express, but at New York and Company I wear an identcal fit pant in a size 8...I'm damn sure going with the size 8.

Damn those fuckers.

Changing Seats

2006-08-17T16:09:00.000-05:00

Ever since the move I've been stuck with crappy seats on the train. In the mornings, Tarrytown is the last stop before Grand Central and the crowd waiting on the platform is huge - hundreds easily. And when the train arrives, everyone pushes and shoves to be the first on board, scrambling for the all-hallowed window seat. I occasionally am lucky enough to procure one of these seat, but it never fails that it's facing the wrong direction...looking back instead of forward. I can't explain why this bothers me so much, but it's been a thorn for the last year - for as long as I've been taking the Metro North.

When I do end up with one of the backward seats I find I'm always trying to rationalize that a window is a window...at least there's something to look at. I should be happy that I'm not stuck staring at the back of someone's head or the seat in front of me. I can see the river, the bridges and the cliffs across the way...

But reasoning with myself never works. I still get icked-out that I'm facing the wrong way. And I've always wondered...

Why the HELL is that???

Then today, after I was seated in one of these seats, and as I sat watching the world passing me by in reverse, I think I figured out why I hate it so much.

I like seeing where I'm headed, not where I've been.
I like seeing what awaits me, not what I'm leaving behind.
I like feeling that I'm moving towards something, not stuck moving backwards.

And the bigger question I asked myself was...

If I physically must sit where I can see what lies before me...why do I mentally spend so much time facing backwards...wallowing in the past...not seeing what's ahead - making even the present a peripheral blur until it, too, passes me be...in reverse.

Neither lived, nor enjoyed, but reflected upon like a distant movie.

Time is carrying me forward, yet I continue looking back.
Never seeing the sun rising upon me because I'm focused on the memories of where it has set.

I think its time to take another seat on this train.

Sweet and Sour

2006-08-15T21:03:00.000-05:00

I know I haven't written much lately. I spend so much of my day composing in my head but when the time comes to finally sit down and get it out, my body shuts down. I've been so exhausted lately. The commute is hell. The job is shit. I officially started job hunting this week for something closer to home. Hopefully soon I'll have the energy to write (bitch) about it some.

But trust me - its sour right now. And I fucking hate it.

A couple of sweet spots though...

The living situation is fabulous! The roomies (the permanent ones anyway) are awesome and a ton of fun. I love being here.

And the ex-roomie is still making me smile...a lot. God I love his eyes. He's like a dip in a chilled pool on a hot summers day. Sometimes when he looks at me, I feel I could just swim in him...curl up in a little tube and float down him...to the very end of his river and just...

...stay.

Orgasm with a Spoon

2006-08-08T21:23:00.000-05:00

I just had sex....

At least it felt like I did.

I just finished off the last of a pint of what could only be called the bestset, most delicious thing in the world...Haagen-Dazs' Caramel Cone ice cream!

I think I need a cigarette now.........

Headache!

2006-08-04T22:32:00.000-05:00

Two hours and two minutes...

That's how long I was on the phone with Netgear tech support setting up the wireless router at my new place. I just popped two tylenol and am headed straight to bed.

But hey! I'm finally connected.....

Pondering on Clerks II

2006-08-03T09:53:00.000-05:00

I saw a great movie last night. My friend Rachel would argue otherwise - she hates Jay and Silent Bob movies, too many "f-bombs" she says - but I still love any flick that Kevin Smith puts his energies into. Its not so much the action or the anticts but rather the dialogue he writes. Most of it is juvenile and gross but he manages somehow to capture moments between characters where you find yourself thinking "Holy shit, now that was deep!" or "How the fuck did he get into my head?!"

He fills his movies with characters who, though moronic in nature, somehow manage to be so in tune with life, spewing dialogue that miraculously means nothing and yet everything all at the same time. It perplexes me - but in a good way. Its eerie seeing on screen the very things that sometimes swim about inside my head...things that I thought were unique only to me. Perhaps there is a little solace to be found in knowing that it isn't just me...that the rest of the world wrestles with problems and ideology similar to mine.

This particular movie really made me think. Actually, it made me think more about an issue that has been haunting me for a couple of years now. In the flick, the main character is in a relationship with a woman who he thinks he loves, but he doesn't realize she is controlling him, shaping him to fit her perfect little world...changing him into someone he isn't. Meanwhile, off to the side is another woman who adores him for who he is and loves him, but remains quiet because she knows he's happy with this other woman.

Why the fuck does this happen? These women exist in real life and I don't understand why guys choose them - the conniving, scheming, heartless ones - over the good ones...the ones who don't care about wedding invitations or honeymoons, or how many guests to invite, because they know the important thing is that they're with him... the ones who get that its who he is as a person, not his status or rank in society...the ones who would love him bruises, warts and all, because they (we), truthfully, don't see any.

The good ones don't care if he wants to work at a thrifty mart, we just care that he's happy. The good ones don't try to force him into some tiny perfect box (a line from the movie), but rather encourage him to fit where he feels most comfortable then nestle ourselves into a cozy spot right next to him. Good ones like me don't care if he thinks he's a mess, we don't try to "fix" his problems and make him a better person...we recognize that he already IS a better person and any changes he makes to himself would only further his beauty in our eyes. And jesus christ, we don't tear him down...we NEVER tear him down. We build him up and make him feel like the king that he is.

So why is it...why the fuck is it that men always chooses the OTHER women? The worst part isn't that they choose them, its that they eventually realize the truth and come to believe that all of us...every last one of us...even the good ones like me...would treat him in exactly the same way if he let us get too close. So because of the rotten few, we ALL become soured in their eyes.

This has been my cycle for so long. I meet a good guy, but he ends up having been burned and I wind up trying to prove not that I'm better than the one who hurt them, but that I'm better because I'm me...that there are some of us who still glow from the inside and make life just a little richer...and when his knees grow weak and his soul is weary we are there like crutches to hold him up so he can keep fighting the battles within.

Chris in Tally
Cort in NY
The ex-Roomie....
All beaten down and left to find themselves again...leaving little room for women like me to shine, forcing us to stand by the side and hope that someday they realize that not all of us become weighted lead around their necks...

Some of us can actually make the burden of life a bit lighter.

Confusion

2006-07-30T19:40:00.000-05:00

I don't understand.
I should be happy.
My first night in my new place and I should be ecstatic.
I felt excited while I was unpacking earlier today.
But as I was sorting my clothes, hanging them up one by one
I realized my eyes were tearing up.
I was beginning to cry.
Why?
Why the hell am I crying now of all nights?
So much shit is running through my head right now.
But all I can think is that my bed feels too big...
...and empty.

Have I made a mistake?
Where was I supposed to go?
Manhattan? Brooklyn? Home??

I don't want to be in such a tiny room.
I don't want to be as hot as I am right now.
I don't want to be living with total strangers.
I don't want to be as alone as I feel right now.
I don't want to keep hiding my affections for him in public.
I don't want to go to work tomorrow.
I don't want to move my stuff next weekend.
I don't want to keep pretending that I'm someone I'm not.
I don't want the introduction to always be "This is my friend Pooh"
I don't want my family so far away from me.
I don't want to reach out at night and feel emptiness beside me.
I don't want to adjust to a new environment.
I don't want to miss out on hearing him when he comes home each night.
I don't want to miss my nephew's first season of pee-wee football.
I don't want to miss my niece's first year in school.
I don't want to miss the secret door.
I don't want to be without them.
Any of them
All of them.
My family, my friends, him.
I feel so alone right now.

This bed is too big.
And too empty.

Release

2006-07-23T20:14:00.000-05:00

I said goodbye to a part of me tonight.
I mean, I officially said farewell and sent her off for good.
And the sad thing is - I'm not sad about it.
At all.
Not one iota.
Not even a little bit.

I deleted my profiles at b.com and collarme.
I didn't just hide them.

...point...click...delete...

I'm not that person anymore.
Yes there is a part of me who is naturally submissive and always will be. I am, at my core, one who desires nothing more than to fulfill the needs of others. But I will never again be on the hunt for a dom.

I am so different from the person I thought I would become when I first moved here. But I'm not complaining. Let's just say I had an eyeopening discussion with myself today and realized it was time to let go of everything that wasn't 100%...ME.

Of course, all those friends of mine who are involved in the lifestyle, I still want to hear all about it. I still want to hang with the munchies when I can.

But I am moving on.
I have to.

The submissive inside me knelt at my feet today and asked for her release.
And I...
...gently removed her collar and set her free.

Quotes

2006-07-20T20:26:00.000-05:00

My friend Spring did a post today with a picture that brought back memories. It made me think of all the movies I've ever seen that had moments and writing which made me go wow. They may not be great movies...but it only takes one well written moment to make a flick memorable. Here are a just a couple. There are of course tons more:

The poem from Ten Things I Hate About You:
I hate the way you talk to me
And the way you cut your hair
I hate the way you drive my car
I hate it when you stare

I hate your big dumb combat boots
And the way you read my mind
I hate you so much that it makes me sick
It even makes me rhyme

I hate the way you're always right
I hate it when you lie
I hate it when you make me laugh
Even worse when you make me cry

I hate the way you're not around
And the fact that you didn't call
But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you
Not even close, not even a little bit...
not even at all.

Beautiful Girls (pic above)

A young Natalie Portman (Marty) is skating circles around a late 20's Timothy Hutton (Willie):

Marty: But if your feelings for me are true, you'll wait.
Willie: Wait?
Marty: Yep. Wait 5 years. I'll be 18 and we can walk through this world together.
Willie: In 5 years you won't remember me. I'm formed and you're not. You have changes to go through. You'll change. And I'll be Winnie The Pooh to your Christopher Robin.
Marty: No literary reference left unturned. How do you figure Pooh?
Willie: Christopher Robin outgrew Pooh. That's how it ended. He had Pooh when he was a child. When he matured,he didn't need him any more.
Marty: That's the saddest thing I ever heard.
Willie: Yeah, but it's true. You don't realize it now, but you'll be doing some changing. And...I can't be a Pooh.
Marty: I think I'll skate away now, Pooh.
Willie: All right, Christopher

Random Thoughts and a Forgotten Truth

2006-07-19T20:16:00.000-05:00

Ever wish you could turn it all off?
Your stress, your feelings, your emotions, the world and your place in it?
Sometimes I hate that I feel so much.
Hate that's its so easy for me to...fall...

What makes us want to lay claim to the people we care about?
Why do we want to wrap our arms tightly around them and call them ours?
How do you love unconditionally without wanting to possess completely?

Ever notice that the polar reflection of
ME
is
WE ???

Perhaps one balaces the other. And without a solid "me" there can be no solid "we."

I was 25 and sitting in my step-father's truck. It felt massive to me, huge and overwhelming, yet still I handled it well like only a good southern girl can. I sat there in the driveway, engine still running, the ac cooling my skin from the scorching Florida summer heat. My hands were on the wheel and I was staring at the little trailer that my mom and then-step-dad called home. She wasn't ready for that relationship. I knew it. My sister knew it. We all knew it but her.

So I sat there for an unknown amount of time, thinking here lies the fruit of Mom's attempt number four at a happy marriage. Not knowing if they would make it. Not knowing that they wouldn't, or that there was yet one more to come. I knew she was not happy, and I knew her unhappiness ran so much deeper than this one man...this one rushed marriage.
My mother was incomplete inside.
And as I sat there, I realized I was saying the same thing over and over again...

You can't be half of something when you yourself aren't whole.
You can't be half of something when you yourself aren't whole.
You can't be half of something when you yourself aren't whole.

(You can't be in a "we" if there is no solid "me".)

I wrote it down. I had it plastered on my mirror, the wall, in my journals and art books...

You can't be half of something when you yourself aren't whole.

It was my own personal motto thought up by yours truly that I lived by for nearly 7 years. I mean, I really fucking lived by it.

But somewhere along the way it became simply...My Forgotten Truth.

It came back to me today like an old friend. How could I have forgotten you and the pains that brought you into fruition...the lessons I learned by watching my mother fail miserably over and over and over again.

How could I have been so reckless.

The daughter of a mother who's failed at four (and failing at five), the daughter of a father who's failed at two, the sister of a sister who's failed at one. My forgotten truth had its genisis for a reason. I can't believe I forgot this vital piece of who I am. But it's as if that first amazing kiss seeped its way into my brain and wiped away the memory, recalibrating who I am. I thought I was being the sail, but in fact became the anchor in the process.

I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.

Nothing New

2006-07-15T20:41:00.000-05:00

I don't know why, but I just haven't felt like writing much lately. Nothing new to report other than how apartment hunting here in New York is a completely different ball game compared to Tallahassee. Its a scary and lonely process here. But I'm leaning towards Westchester now instead of Brooklyn or Queens.

The roommate and I have exchanged some casual email comments about possibly finding a place together. I want to more than anything, which is a BIG step for me because I have never in my life lived with anyone. But truthfully though, getting our own place forces an evaluation of "us" but I don't know if he's willing to do that. I suppose however after 7 months of "hot-n-heavy" its about time one of us said something, but I've been afraid to bring it up.

Hell, I haven't been able to tell the guy how I really feel about him, so me broaching the topic of a relationship or using the "g-friend" and "b-friend" words???? Shit. Scares the hell out of me just thinking about it. But I've really got to get over his hangups from his past relationships - cuz they're just that...his...NOT mine. Seems I've tailored the way I do things based on how I fear he will respond. Initially that was the best possible thing for me because I tend to rush things when I fall for someone. This forced me to take my time getting to know him and helped me realize that for the first time ever in my life I've fallen for someone because of who they truly are as a person rather than how they look, or what they do, or any of that other superficial bullshit. No...this man just fucking moves me like no one ever has. And that is amazing....

But now we've reached the point where I am holding back when I feel it should be ok to move forward - I'm sacrificing the romantic that I am in order to maintain his cautious pace. I don't think anyone would argue that after 11 months of knowing someone, and seven months of the intense growing level of intimacy between us (both physical and emotional) that its time to address this.

Maybe tonight...
But hell...I've been saying that for months.

More Stars!

2006-07-10T19:34:00.000-05:00

I spent sunday with roomie A up in Peekskill (which I'll blog about later...right now just want to post this and get some damn sleep...)

While there I saw yet another Supah Stah!

They had closed off most off the main drag through Peekskill (if you could even call it that) and were filming a scene right outside the little coffeehouse A was playing at (he sounded amazing by the way...). Turns out it was Vanessa Williams they were shooting.

I wasn't brave enough to snap her pic but the roomie snagged my phone and went outside to take one for me. Isn't that so sweet??? :) (yeah, I'm disgustingly smitten here...)

So this is the pic he managed to get for me...

(Sorry, Spring...the just keep popping up on me! I can't help it......)

Failure

2006-07-09T22:07:00.000-05:00

Well, another medicinal attempt has ended in failure. I took my first dose of the new med Friday night. I woke up at 3am vomiting and was up and down throughout the night with a severely upset stomach. I spent all day Saturday in a fog much worse than the one which envelops me during a bout of depression. The feeling lingered through the day, the night, and much of the following day.

It would take my body 4 to 5 days to acclimate to the new substance flooding my brain. I couldn't handle another another hour of it, much less a few more days. I refused to take another one.

UGH...

2006-07-08T12:22:00.000-05:00

...new meds SUCK!

I don't which is worse - this tired, nauseous, floaty, disconnected, everything is in slow-mo feeling, or pulling my fingernails off with a pair of pliers. I think if it guaranteed me a lifetime release from my depression...I'd go for the fingernail removal over this any day.

And I had such great plans for this afternoon.
Now I'm stuck here just trying to remember which hand is my left
and which is my other left....

I Almost Peed My Pants!

2006-07-07T20:55:00.000-05:00

HA HA HA HA HA!!
Ok, so this site had me in stitches!
Specifically their FAQ's about feeling Depressed As Fuck (that last line killed me!)

Quote from the home page:
I know, the meds suck donkey dong.
But you know what? When you're mentally ill and you're not taking the right medications, it sucks syphilitic donkey dong while a red-hot poker is being jammed up your ass. That's what it's like without any meds at all, and that's what it's like if you're taking completely inappropriate medications. And that's what it's like if you're taking psychiatric medications when you shouldn't be taking any at all.

Christ I need some pampers now!

Depression, Medication, and the Infinite Wisdom of Pooh

2006-07-07T15:51:00.000-05:00

"I am a Bear of Very Little Brain, and long words bother me."

It's no secret that I struggle with Depression. I may not openly admit that I'm a loony fuck, but those in my life can tell when something isn't quite right. They witness the "real" me - the talkative perky bitch who will bug the shit out of you with girly nonsensical chatter, crazy laughter and too much silliness. I like this person. She makes me happy...probably because she is happy. But then there's this other me. The fearful Doubting Thomas, the one who counts imperfections on her bedroom ceiling, the one who curls up in a fetal position for days at a time, crying out for someone, anyone, to come and hold her, cradle her like a baby and rock her back and forth saying "It's all right...It's ok..." The scary thing is, in those moments - while I'm sobbing and an emotional wreck - I do find that comfort I need, however it's my own hand that caresses my cheek, my own voice drifting out of me in a raspy, almost soothing melody singing over and over and over "It's alright...It's ok...It's alright...it's ok."

"It is more fun to talk with someone who doesn't use long, difficult words but rather short, easy words like "What about lunch?""

No, I'm not insane.

Just depressed.

I call it cycling, or riding the wave. Some of my friends have probably heard me use the latter, for example:
"Hey Pooh, why so quite all of a sudden?"
"Oh, no reason. I just rode the wave."

"Well," said Pooh, "what I like best..." and then he had to stop and think. Because although Eating Honey was a very good thing to do, there was a moment just before you began to eat it which was better than when you were, but he didn't know what it was called"

For me "cycling" refers to the bigger picture. It encompasses a larger time frame, be it a week, a month, a year. It involves little waves of stress and depression which build upon each other, creating a weight on my shoulders that I struggle day in and day out to carry. And as the load gets heavier my soul becomes weary and tired until finally I just give out and crash. I may spend a day (recently I spent two) curled up in bed...unable to eat, unable to communicate, unable to do anything but feel. But after the crash, it's as if the weight of the world has lifted from me. My chest is light, I can breathe easier and it's as if nothing ever happened...until the cycle starts all over again.

"Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day."

"Riding the wave" is a term I use to describe the mood shifts that I experience throughout the course of the day. I may be talking to a friend, feeling a bit elated and generally happy about life, then suddenly I can feel a dip in my mood that is honestly, very physical. Most often the sensation is nothing major - I have simply slipped from a state of excitement and contentment to a more mellowed state of presence...I’m here, only not. Make sense? (Probably not) It's not that I'm unhappy after riding a wave, but I’m also not Chatty-Cathy either, if you know what I mean. Do you? (probably not)

"It gets you nowhere if the other person's tail is only just in sight for the second half of the conversation."

So, the cycling has been happing faster for me. Pre-meds, I used to cycle and crash once every few months. Earlier this year though the cycling went to once a month, and most recently I've been crashing (and crashing hard) every two weeks. I tried seeing someone back in early March after a particularly nasty crash and was put on a medication that actually made matters worse so I stopped taking it.

"You can't stay in your corner of the Forest waiting for others to come to you. You have to go to them sometimes."

Then, in early April my grandmother passed away. I knew this had affected me, I just didn't realize how much. Have you ever spent long periods of time feeling like your whole body was enveloped by a dense fog…you can see a few inches in front of your face but you can't really focus on the world around you? Well, that's been me – for three very long months, perhaps even longer but the last three have been the worst...the most trying...the most lonely...even with some great new friends and a pseudo live-in boyfriend.

"Wherever they go, and whatever happens to them on the way, in that enchanted place on the top of the forest, a little boy and his Bear will always be playing."

And now, after last week’s crash, I realized it was time to start seeing someone again. I'm not afraid to admit it...I’m not skurd! (that's "country" for scared...my sister taught me that one). I met with her yesterday and was prescribed something new and with any luck, in two weeks I’ll either be normal again, or so fucking out of it I won’t give a damn what the world thinks about me! WooHoo.

But I hate the stigma that comes with depression and the people who say "Oh, just get over it already" "Pull yourself out of bed" "It's just a mood" "Going to the gym is all you need..."

"People who don't Think probably don't have Brains; rather, they have grey fluff that's blown into their heads by mistake."

These people obviously have never felt true clinical depression, or had a relative that they could witness going throught the cycling like I do. Because when it gets bad, when your limbs are weighted down by emotional mud and muck and the fog descends so thick and heavy you can't breathe...making you reach for a bottle of Jack and every pill bottle in the medicine cabinet, playing Shawn Mullins in the background over and over and over waiting for it all to hit and take you away...there is no coming back from that on your own.

"If you live to be 100, I hope I live to be 100 minus 1 day, so I never have to live without you."

Don't get this little chicky wrong...I am better. But I also want to STAY that way. So this step is probably the most responsible step I can take for myself...and my life.

"If ever there is tomorrow when we're not together.. there is something you must always remember. you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. but the most important thing is, even if we're apart.. i'll always be with you."

~All quotes from Winnie-the-Pooh~

Pressing "Play"

2006-07-05T09:22:00.000-05:00

I made a big decision last week.
Actually, I made a few.
But perhaps the biggest is that it's time to move.

I've been in my little multi-cultural household for almost a year and on an oh-so-eye-opening walk to work last week, it hit me like a runaway truck that it was time - beyond time - to pack it up and walk away. I don't know where to yet, but I'm not all that concerned with getting my Manhattanite Social Club Card stamped for membership. There is coolness all over the place, and I don't mind being a bridge-and-tunnel girl if I've got a nice sized place that I can come home to each night and call my own.

But it is time.
It's time for a lot of things - a lot of changes.
I realized that I have put my life on hold.
I don't know when it happened, but something tells me it was the moment my car made its way up this little street and I unpacked what life I brought with me into this tiny room.
I've been on hold for a number of reasons but the most influencial has been fear.
I've been afraid of so much lately.
Afraid of leaving yet again everthing that I know.
Afraid of getting lost in a city filled with cold faces and empty hearts.
Afraid of missing out on even one precious moment with him.
Afraid of being alone.
I'm so sick of this person I have become and I can't be her any more...
...this cowering, fearful little girl who's afraid of...living.
This house...has paused me.

Ahhh, but I'm Paused no longer!
Time to push play and start living again
Just not here,
In this house.
Even if it means missing out on some of those precious moments.
Because I am sure...at least I hope...
with him, there will always be more.

Spilled Honey

2006-06-29T13:28:00.000-05:00

Years of brick and mortar
A decade of cement and stone
The protective barrier I put up so long ago
Exploded and crumbled to dust on the train today
I don't know why it chose this of all days
But at Marble Hill my chest felt swollen and full.
Near Morris Heights I felt it fighting to hold back.
And by 125th Street it had surrendered to the pressure, bursting.
Allowing all that was inside to spill
Pooling about me like honey.
Rich, thick, and sweet.

I want to beg you to stay
Or take me with you
But no matter where you decide you belong
I am in your corner
As a friend, as a lover
As a guardian angel who would wrap her protective wings about your body.
Let me spill inside you
Just as you have me
I will pool at your feet
Like honey
Rich, thick and sweet

I know I promised that I would not say the words
Because deep within I knew
You weren't ready to hear them
And I not ready to say them
But the wall has crumbled
And I feel I can't hold back much longer
Soon my heart will betray my lips
They will open
Releasing words that will pool about you
Like spilled honey
Rich, thick, and sweet.

Three little words
I feel them in your laughter
I feel them in your silence
I just feel them
for you
like honey
Rick, thick and sweet.

Will you taste them?

Oh God

2006-06-26T06:30:00.000-05:00

I am sick...Can't stop puking.
Thank god I called in to work.

Reassurance?

2006-06-26T04:28:00.000-05:00

Its 6:45 am and I have been awake for hours. I awoke at 4am not feeling well (turns out I'm sick and will be skipping work today) but since then my mind has been reeling and I was unable to quiet my thoughts (or my stomach) enough to go back to sleep.

Something happened Friday night that I haven't written about. I've kept it to myself because the details are private and because I've needed to think about it and what occurred.

And now, I realize I am so hurt and disappointed with myself. It had been such a long time since I've been with anyone. And I had hoped that when it finally happened between us that it would be special for him (for us). I am not one who does casual sex, but this was also the first time that I had been intimate with someone that I had developed such deep feelings for prior to the act. If I had known that that night was going to be the night, I would've done things differently, but I fear I pushed it when it least should've happened. I had been drinking and just ended up making a mess of things.

I think the worst is the lack of communication since. We were in no condition to talk the next morning so there was no discussion, no cuddling. My head was throbbing, he had to go to work, and all I wanted was to make my way over to my bed and a bottle of advil. But as the day wore on and the hangover subsided, the act that had occurred the night before began to sink in and I realized that I was sinking rather than floating. I needed him so much at that moment, to feel his arms around me, to feel his warmth and his breath. I needed to hear his reassurance that despite all the awkwardness it was meaningful for him.

I managed to pull myself through the day, missing him dearly, hoping to spend the next night curled in his arms, going over the details of the night before. But the poor thing was violently sick when he got home from work and rather than burden him I let him be so that he could sleep off his illness in peace. We have not spoken since.

But now I feel so horrible. I don't know what to think about things. We finally make love after this long buildup and all I am capable of the next morning is a quick kiss goodbye. How could I have let that happen? Why didn't I grab him the next morning, in spite of the headache, and tell him how amazing he is and that I am glad it finally happened? Is it wrong that I am so upset with myself? Is my need for some sort of emotional reassurance from him me being too needy?

God I hope not, because right now I need his touch more than anything
I need to look into his eyes
kiss his tender lips
and do it again
the right way.

Concert this Saturday!

2006-06-25T17:58:00.000-05:00

For those who have asked me about this woman, and the song I wrote about, you can hear a sample of it here. The song is called "I found you" and you can listen to two different versions. The album it was originally on is called "Looking Forward Looking Back" and the link to sample from is right there. However, the other version you can hear is under the album "Live." You'll actually have to click to sample all songs from this album as there is no individual link to the song. This version is most like how I originally heard it, accoustical with KJ and her guitar. I like this one best, but the original version is quite lovely also.

Spring and I are going to her show this Saturday at the 55 Bar in Manhattan and I just can't wait to see this songbird again...

Ranting

2006-06-25T16:09:00.000-05:00

So I set out this morning with the intent of going into Manhattan to check out Pridefest, but once I hopped the train I took a good look at the darkening sky and decided perhaps today was not the best of days for playing fag-hag in the city. I thunk up a quick shopping list and headed for Target instead. Why is it that when you go shopping with a list of only a few items in your head, one of two things will inevitably happen...

1) You get distracted, spend tons of money and come home with everything but the items you initially set out for; or

2) You get to the store only to discover that some, if not all, of the few items you seek are gone, sold out, or simply are not carried by that store, so you spend a ton of money anyway because, well who wants to go home empty handed?!

Now, I find it hard to believe that Target does not carry the crap I wanted, but in both instances I wandered up and down the appropriate isles only to NOT find what I needed. And I'm damn sure not gonna substitute my Frizz-Ease hair serum for some knock-off shit. Only the best (and the original) will do. I finally gave up on the serum and moved on to the next item - my can of John Frida Brilliant Brunette aerosol hairspray...but what the fuck?! Not only did they not carry it, but it seems most other brands were gone too. Oh, I could've come home with me some hairspray...that is, if I wanted to spend $1.99 and carry home a mammoth sized can of Auqanet. But come on! Who the hell buys a gallon of hair spray? It ain't the 80's anymore people!! Plus I use this shit maybe once every week, so I'm also not about to purchase your expensive ass $14.99 bottle of Redkin Super-Stick mega-sized, ozone-depleting, yet packaged quite lovely, I must admit, can of spray! Not that my spray is any better for the ozone, but at half the size and a mere $3.99, I at lease feel like I'm doing less damage.

So one scented candle, a four-pack of votives with cute colored vases, three shirts, a tube of toothpaste, and nearly 80 bucks later...I left Target feeling like they owed me something. I wanted my wasted time and spent energy back...but I'll keep the scented candles thank you very much! Who knew "Tamarand Spice" was so intoxicating!

To make up for my dissapointing experience at Target, I hopped over to Applebee's and noshed on a shrimp and parmesan cheese sirloin steak with broccoli and garlic mashed potatoes, followed up with a Sizzling Blondie with butter toffee sauce. Oh, c'mon...its not like I ate it all. I brought home most of my dinner but I damn sure ate all the blondie.

So, I'm home now. In case you haven't figured it out yet I'm PMSing hard so those candles and a long hot bath would do me some good...only I forgot number three on my list...

...a stopper for the tub.

Something tells my I would've had so much more fun prancing around in the rain with a bunch of gorgeous gay men.

Shedding

2006-06-25T15:37:00.000-05:00

I was in the shower a few days ago (and yes, Peanut Gallery, I've showered since...) and noticed that when I rinsed out the conditioner, it seemed to carry with it strand after strand after handfuls of strands of hair. I thought maybe it was a build up of naturally shed hair, which happens often to us curly headed folks because the hairs don't fall out so easily once they've escaped from their folicles, they linger around mixed in with all the other hairs until we finally run a brush through it.

This is different though. The amount of hair I saw in the tub was far from normal. In fact, add that to the amount of hair that was in the tub the next few days, plus the hair that comes out when I brush each night and we've got a full scale baldathon going on. It wasn't just in the tub...it was everywhere - on me, in my hands, in the towel after I dried off. Made me a little afraid to check out my bed.

Unfortunately I know what the problem is. Stress. Lots and lots of stress. And I can tell you its directly related to my job. I haven't blogged much about the details and I don't plan to, but let me tell you, when your coworkers openly admit to each other and to you the you've got the shittest job on the floor, then its definitely time to start thinking about a career change. Sad thing is I've only been at this job for six months but the past two of them have been pure hell.

Life kind of sucks when the "Monday Morning Dread" starts as early as Saturday afternoon. Kind of kills the whole weekend. I've already spoke to HR and it turns out I have to be in my job for at least a year before I can transfer to a new department. I doubt I'll make it that long.

So believe me when I say I don't want to go to work tomorrow.

I want my hair back!

Quandary

2006-06-24T17:29:00.000-05:00

Thursday a week ago I attended one of the local munches with a friend. It was an uneventful night - except for the creepy guy who sat in a corner of the bar staring at us all night - but it was fun to be out with everyone. It had been a while for me.

This past Thursday I checked an old email account and had this note waiting for me:

"Hope you don't mind the email, but I have a question for you. Remember T, the big guy in the kilt (big, goodlooking guy :-)) who came to one of the munches? Anyway, he's interested in you wants to take you out and speak with you some more about your interests and whatnot and wanted me to try and get your contact info...it's up to you..."

I was flattered. I remembered T, but only a little. I think it was two months ago that I met him. He seemed like a nice guy, very funny and lovable, and the kilt was certainly a conversation piece.

My initial reaction was to email this person and tell them no...I'm taken. But then I rationalized that truthfully, I am not taken because A still has his german girlfriend so why shouldn't I branch out and make the most of my youth and singleness.

However I then re-rationalized that, although I may not be technically taken by A, I am oh so very emotionally taken. I've grown to love him deeply (even though he does not feel the same way) and how fair would it be for me to go out with someone else without being able to give them everything...without my heart being truly in it.

But I then went on to re-re-rationalize that I should not waste my life waiting for someone-especially when the odds are stacked against me that I will be the one he chooses. How will I move on if I don't start putting energies elsewhere? Why shouldn't I try my luck with someone else? A little distraction from him and her and everything might do me some good...

Ah, god, but he's all I want.
I don't want to see someone else...
I want him.
And only him.

I suppose I've got myself one fubar of a situation here.

I thought about talking to him, asking if he's ok with me going out with other guys.
But I chose not to, because truthfully I fear that the answer will be...
...yes.

When in reality what I want to hear is
No! Please don't...I want you...and only you.

Hard Limit

2006-06-23T23:40:00.000-05:00

Kissing a smoker is like sticking your tongue in this...

Smokers have always been a hard limit for me.
I swore I would never do it again. Not after the last time.

He's smoking again.
And the smell is horrible.
My lungs burn today just from sitting next to him.
Do I make my hard limit a soft one instead?

Is it shallow to walk away from someone who you adore as much as I do him because of a habit they have...because of smoking?
But my health, my lungs, my asthma...

I don't know what to do.

I suppose there's nothing I can do but grin and bear it. After all, I have an addiction of my own...

...him.

Flattery

2006-06-23T13:43:00.000-05:00

I love flattery.

Today I wore my hair up to work for the first time ever (for the first time in years really).
I wore an old gauzy baby-doll top and stylishly rugged jeans.

Two coworkers were having a conversation when I arrived and they both stared at me when I walked up to join their cozy circle.

My god, you look amazing!
You are so beautiful...

I shrugged sheepishly, wanting to walk away.
But I remained and listened as they went on to discuss my appearance amongst themselves.

She has perfect, porcelain doll features.
She's so "classically" beautiful.
I can't stop looking at her...

Never have I been flatterd with such kind words.

I think I will try to wear my hair this way more often....

I Found You

2006-06-21T21:39:00.000-05:00

She was beautiful when I first saw her.
Coffee colored skin, wild midnight hair.
Perched upon a tiny wooden stool, she cradled her guitar with the precision of a true musician.

I no longer remember the exact date, not that the recollection of such is necessary, but I do know it was early March, perhaps even late February. It was cold and the tiny coffeehouse offered up to me a welcoming warmth, intoxicating with its aromas of french roasts and specialty blends. I weaved my way through the growing crowd, settling for an empty table in the far back corner. With my laptop liberated from its case, and a newly purchased cup of hot green tea, I perched not unlike the woman up front and prepared to write.

My reason for being there was medicinal in a way - I needed to escape...from someone else, from a situation, from myself. Without burdening one with the tedious backstory, I had just been given word that someone I adored and cared about was expecting a visitor...a romantic visitor. What was to become of their time together was not known (and perhaps still isn't, even after all these months) but the truth as I saw it was simple - I was losing him. I did not argue. I did not fight. It was not my right to do so...at least not with him. Instead I waged my battle upon myself and did the only thing I knew how to do...run away.

So there I sat in that lovely oasis, paragraphs before me - none of it any good really, but still I plowed on praying that the very act of writing would become the catharsis I needed. I drifted in and out of my little world, until, reading the atrociousness I had somehow managed to vomit up, I thought for a moment I should leave.

It was then that she began to sing. The first few songs were amazing and melodic. I found myself caught up in the way she swayed upon that tiny stool, the way her eyes seemed permanently closed yet her fingers, skilled beyond the need for sight, still found the right strings. I became lost in the sound of her. After a few songs she took a breather and spoke to the crowd about the tune she planned to play next. With a smile I later learned to be sincere, she asked if anyone had a box of tissues to pass around.

This song is my most requested. I often get invited to play at weddings because of it. If you start to cry don't worry...you won't be the only one.

I laughed quietly at her declaration yet looked down to discover I had already pulled my pack of travel tissues from my backpack. Well, it never hurts to be prepared...just in case...but I expected nothing I hadn't heard before.

I was wrong.

It wasn't long into the song before I realized that the house had grown silent. The walls no longer echoed the clink of cups or the polite murmur normally associated with a crowd of this size. There was no movement and no sound except for the songbird and her guitar. My face grew moist with spilled tears.

And she was right. I was not the only one.

Her words were my heart and my fears. I drove home not knowing if I should be happy or sad.

Its been four month and situations have since changed. As moving as the song was back then, the words ring even truer now. Yes, my gentle giant is still here, but truthfully, I don't know for how long.
Even now I could still lose him...
Lose him to the past and the woman who haunts him deeply
Lose him to the future and the opportunities which await him in a far off country.
I would never try to sway his decision. I'd be happy for him no matter where he allows life to take him.
But for now, in the present, I can only hope he loses himself in me.

I've often tried to recreate that moment in the coffehouse, sitting before this tiny screen, hoping to craft my own little piece of magic for him.

But it's hard to compose for someone when you know the perfect words already exist...

I Found You
KJ Denhert

Now that I found you, please don't go away
Don't leave me wondering if you're gonna stay
I have risen, out from under this pain
Seems we've been given a chance to love again
Now that I found you don't you lose your way

I can love you in my quiet way
I can hold you when your spirit fades
Yours is the kind of life I could breathe each day
Yours is the kind of heart I've looked for everywhere

Now that I found you don't you lose your way

Oh in the morning I would love to speak your name
In the nighttime, see you again
Well I could be wrong, but I think it could be great

Now that I found you, please don't go away
Don't leave me wonderin' if your gonna stay

Love is seldom perfect, and its given to change
I'd be glad if you'd take my hand and try love once again
Now that I found you don't you lose your way
My guitar, well its burning and it's asking me to say these things to you now

Father's Day

2006-06-18T21:15:00.000-05:00

I have been reading some blogs and realized there are quite a few writers who have chosen to honor their fathers today. Not to be a lemming, but in the spirit of the holiday, I have decided to do the same. I have a lot of stories that I can, and perhaps someday will share about my father, but for now I simply want to post something very dear to both of us.

When I was 26 I had something horrible happen to me...actually, to say it "happened to me" implys that this horrific event was something unexpected and out of my control. Although both my be partially true, the fact still remains that this thing didn't happen to me...I did it to myself. But that, my friends, is a blog for another day - one I may or may not ever be able to write.

Shortly (well...immediatly) after the "incident" I was asked (forced, really) to spend some time in the hospital. My father, never one to openly express himself, came to me at the hospital and asked that I write for him. He wanted a poem and even assigned a topic – "What Impact Has My Dad Had In My Life". Though merely trying to get my mind off the pressing issue of my recovery, what resulted from his request was the medicine I would come to learn I had needed my entire life...

The Mirror

A young father – with a lesson to teach
sat his daughter upon his knee.
“You will always be a mirror of life, child.
But you can choose the reflections that you see.”

The daughter was overjoyed!

“I choose all my toys,
choose all my dolls and dresses!
I choose paints and pencils,
choose making lots of messes!
I choose my baby kitten,
choose my tea party dishes!
I choose Christmas presents,
choose making birthday wishes!”

The father smiled and let her go her way.

This same father – some years later,
sat his daughter in a chair.
“Be that mirror once again, but
choose your reflections now with care.”

The daughter rolled her eyes!

I choose hanging at the mall,
choose shopping for new clothes.
I choose all my shoes,
choose painting all my toes.
I choose my best friends,
choose my favorite songs.
I choose dancing with a boy,
choose my high school prom.

The father smiled and let her go her way.

This father – a lifetime later
phone in hand heard only his daughter’s voice.
He said “Your mirror may seem cracked and broken,
but its reflection is still your choice.”

The daughter was relieved.

“I choose moving to this town,
choose my stressful job
I choose this tiny house,
and the bills that it will cause.
I choose my dear, sweet husband,
this special man I married.
I choose to be a mother,
choose this baby I now carry.”

The father smiled and let her go her way.

Now this father – aged and ill,
had his daughter by his bed.
He went to speak but she silenced him
while stroking the silver which now lined his head.

“You’ve taught me about the mirror, Dad,
and choosing the reflections that I see.
But the lesson to be learned today
here now lies in me.

I remember choosing dolls,
remember gifts and dresses.
I remember something about
paints and making messes.
I remember choosing shoes,
remember friends and songs.
I remember something about
boys and high school prom.

I remember choosing stress,
remember moving away.
I remember something about
my job and bills to pay.
I remember choosing my husband,
and yes, my own daughter, too.
But this mirror in my life, Dad,
has always reflected you.”

The daughter smiled, and let him go his way.

For my Father - June 2000

Haunted

2006-06-14T19:20:00.000-05:00

I knew something was different as soon as I opened the door.

It was the smell...stale and old, like an ancient house that had been kept dark for centuries.

This house is old and well stocked with more nick-nacks, battered lamps and ceramic vases than one could ever hope to find a place for, which could certainly make the claustrophobic feel rather constricted. Yes, at times the overflow of forgotten junk can be annoying, but it gives this place a decidedly grandmotherly feel (a feeling I quite enjoy now that my own grandmother has passed). Until today the air in the house has been fresh...unless you ventured into the basement after a particularly nasty day of baptisms and defecations by the two house-rats (I dare not call them dogs because these animals lack any of the common sense or cuteness of their canine counterparts) and in those instances a gasmask would not save you from the assault - but I digress...

The smell stopped me in the entry way, backpack still slung, key still in hand. I was taken aback because it was so unexpected - the house smelled normal when I left this morning, but the odor that enveloped me when I returned was the kind that takes decades to grow and cultive into the overwhelming musk that it was. Yet, this smell, was new - as if the years of dust and mildew that must surely plague this place decided to make themselves known...as if this already ancient house decided to grow old overnight.

Though neither bad nor good, the smell assaulted me in much the same way that the animal urinal that is the basement sometimes does. I made my way through the main hall towards the staircase, inhaling through my nose, thinking maybe the next sniff would clue me in to what this odor was. As I climbed the stairs towards my room on the second floor it became obvious that the smell was getting stronger. Though reminiscent of the kind of odor which emanates from every molecule of an old house, this smell clearly had a source and I was getting closer. The mystery was solved when I reached the second floor...

Books...piles and piles of old, worn books. I looked into the room which flanks the tops of the stairs and realized that every shelf which had previously been adorned by these centuries of words were now empty and bare. A new roommate is coming - I dare not speculate what this monstrous task did to my landlady's nerves.

So it was the removal of all this forgotten knowledge that became the cause of the new smell. I realized that here lay before me pages and pages of brilliance that had been allowed to sit and wither for decades. Even worse was the fact that these were certainly destined for some even darker corner of the house. I was looking at a mountain of worlds that would never be explored, thoughts that would not be entertained...voices that would never be heard. What amounted to nothing but paper and dust to her, seemed a lost treasure to me.

I began sorting...looking for gold.

It's been a few days now since the books were expelled from their homes. They still sit in the hallway at the top of the stairs, overflowing up onto the steps which lead to the third floor. The smell is still there but not as pungent. Part of me wants the smell to remain because it makes me remember things that, truthfully, I can't remember. It's on the tip of my tongue...some ghost of a memory locked far away in the recesses of my mind that this dank, earthy smell is associated with. Maybe someday it will come to me, but for now I quite enjoy the way this smell haunts me. I hope it remains...

...because when it is gone, it means those pages of forgotten gold will, too, be gone...banished to some remote, far off corner of the world.

Time to Wake

2006-06-12T20:56:00.000-05:00

I have something to blog about.
But it scares me and the words just wont come.
Not the way I want them to.
Not the way I need them to.

How do you wake yourself up from a dream?
You know its time, but you think if you just keep your eyes closed...
...if you keep sleeping just a while longer,
then it all will become...real.
incredibly and unbelievably real...

Dear God, I don't want to wake up.
But this dream...
...will never be real.

A sea of letters.
And none of them mine.

Cryptic, I know.
But perhaps that's the way should be.
That's the way it should've been all along, Sweetie.
You've always been an easy puzzle to solve.
Perhpas too easy?

Another place, another time?
Because this place...this time...

...all a dream.

And, my love, its time to wake up.

Missing Him?

2006-06-07T18:28:00.000-05:00

A friend of mine blogged today about missing an ex, which is funny because I have been thinking about Him a lot the past few days. I wouldn't exactly call Him an "ex" because that would imply that we were in a relationship. We weren't - therein lied the problem. But...He was my last dom (again, not an "ex") and it's hard to move past someone who you give up so much of yourself to.

I've wondered how He is and who He's got making His morning cappuccinos - who He has wearing my/His collar now that I am gone. I've wanted to email or call to see how He is, but truthfully I fear experiencing the desire to surrender to Him again, and that I never want to do. Our "thing" was horribly one-sided. Many of my needs were not met and I've come to realize that we were incredibly incompatible.

But still...I gave my all to Him, and I left a part of myself behind when I walked away. I don't know if He realizes this - that a piece of me is still there, haunting His apartment, floating about like a ghost caught in limbo - refusing to admit that it has died...afraid to move on to the next world.

And that piece of me I've left behind? The submissive I once thought I was.

Don't get me wrong, she's still here. But not like she used to be. Which is ironic because she is the reason I am here. She is the reason I packed up the life I once had and made the big move, leaving behind everything I knew and everyone I loved.

You'd think she'd be suffering right now, but truthfully...I think she's found peace.
Because she realizes that everything happens for a reason - that every gust of wind is a chance to change course...
And her course...her journey brought me to him...
My Nilla roomie...my Gentle Giant
The most beautiful man I've ever had the pleasure to meet...
...and to love.

So yes, I still think about Him, the un-ex Ex. But perhaps that is because he tamed her - that piece of me that needed to be bound, collared, and controlled...if only for a little while.

My new mattress...

2006-06-05T19:45:00.000-05:00

SUCKS!

I was excited about it initially. My landlady cleared out a room and asked if I wanted the mattress that was in there for my room. I said hell yeah, because mine was made for a trundle bed. Basically it was smaller than a twin - a "mini-twin" if you will" - and the springs poked me horribly through the night.

The new mattress is a true twin (yay - now me and the nilla roomie can snuggle with a whole three extra inches of room) and sits a few inches higher. It's fabulous for watching tv...but sleep???

I might as well have been laying on concrete. It was the most miserable night ever.

I know I will adjust but for now, I've just doused myself with Tylenol PM and am keeping my fingers crossed that I'll be able to sleep tonight.

Then again, I find I never sleep good on Sunday nights - I normally spend Friday and Saturday nights in my gentle giant's room and sleeping alone after two nights snuggled up with him...of course I'm not going to sleep well.

Stars Everywhere!

2006-06-05T18:45:00.000-05:00

Ok, so I didn't actually see any but I'm surrounded by them!

On the way home I walked smack dab through the filming of Spiderman 3. They had removed all the signs and posters for the production that normally shows in one of the theaters on 44th street and put up mock signs for "Manhattan Memories" starring Mary Jane Watson (aka Kirsten Dunst). Attached is a photo I snapped with my camera phone of the theater which I assume was premiering "Miss Watson" later that night. It's not a good photo cuz my phone sucks but it's still cool. You can't tell here, but the chick on the poster is Kirsten Dunst as Mary Jane. I guess that means Mary Jane will have gotten her break as a star in the third movie. I thought I'd hang around to watch the shoot but the crowd was growing and I was hot so I came on home without seeing anyone famous.

Then...when I got home, I was told there were Russell Crowe sightings in my 'hood today. I wasn't surprised actually because posters went out over the weekend that certain streets would be closed from 7am Sunday to 7pm Wednesday because the independent film, teen drama, Tenderness, starring Russell Crowe would be shooting in the neighborhood on those days. My inital though was Oh great...Russell Crowe...like I really want to meet that moody jerk. I googled it and found this "Plot Outline: A policeman (Crowe) works to figure out whether a violent teen (Foster) murdered his family."

Anyway, on my way to the train this morning I noticed that big white trailers had snuck their way into the hood. And coming home there were people walking around with clipboards and bullhorns and badges hanging around their neck. Then a neighbor stopped me and said "Hey! Russell Crowe sightings in the neighborhood today!" My reaction to that?? "Really?! Where???"

Yeah, that's right. I became a squealy little girl.

It's funny how you can be snobby and swear you'd never want to meet a certain celeb, but as soon as you hear their in your hood walking around...I guan-damn-tee you that their assholiness will be all but forgotten and you'll run like a damn little kid looking to see the Supah Stah! I feel so paparazzi right now.

A Conversationless Conversation

2006-05-28T19:34:00.000-05:00

Me: “I realized something tonight. A couple of days ago it dawned on me that pretty soon my time with you is either going to stop completely, if your decision is to move to Europe, or become hard work, if you decide to move to Brooklyn. I became concerned that if my thoughts at this point were that seeing you would become “work”…does that mean that it’s you that has me so captivated…or the convenience of you??

But...when I saw you tonight…when I looked up and there you were standing at my table…I lit up! I was so happy to see you. I smiled and realized…

…No, it’s you…definitely you.”

His response??

Him: “Well, the only thing I’m focused on right now is not letting anyone influence my decisions. Those were your words to me once.”

Yes they were…but what the fuck did that have to do with anything??
I thought I had just shared something deep and important.
And that was his response?

I remained silent the rest of the night.

Counting

2006-05-28T18:27:00.000-05:00

My ceiling is smooth and white.
There are six distended imperfections.
One large circular crack.
The small circular molding in the center has four rings
The crown molding about the room has 6 ridges...
...or is that seven.
The shadows are throwing me off.

I've got to get out of this bed.
But I can't seem to move.
I don't know if I felt this one coming.
Things have been good.
Maybe too good...
...to be true.

Thump, Thump.........Thump, Thump........Thump, Thump
I think that is my heart...
...but the fan is causing something to bang against my closet door.
I should move my head and look - just to make sure.
I try, but fuck it. Too much work.
I surrender back to nothingness...
...and the damned white ceiling.

Somebody is sitting on my chest.
God they are so heavy...
GET OFF!! Please, I can't breathe!
I gather all my strength just to move my eyes.
You can do that much can't you?
I want to confront the squishing bastard.
But when I look down, there is...
...nobody??

Like me.
Nobody.

Counting again.

one..
two...
three...
four...
five...
six...

wait...I think it's seven again...
But I blink away the tears...
...no, its six. definitely six...

It never ends.

Sleep

2006-05-20T17:09:00.000-05:00

This morning when I awoke...I was not alone.
The bed was not mine although the pillow was ... the room was not mine either although I needed only open one door and I would be "home".

I spent the night with him, A, my lovely nilla roomie...and I slept better than I have in weeks.

It wasn't that I was that exhausted - although I was.
It wasn't the comfort of his bed - although it is so much softer than mine.
It wasn't because of the perfect temperature that his room somehow manages to maintain.
It wasn't even due to physical exhaustion from a night of hot sex - because there was none.

No, I slept so soundly because of the comfort of him. His presence...his smell...his touches as the night melted into morning. Something happened to my restless spirit when I laid down beside him. There was a release, my chest relaxed, and the stress of the week became nonexistent. I was finally able to rest my weary head on his gentle-giant sholder and let sleep take hold - aware of nothing but him and me and...us.

Jesus...it scares me how deeply I feel for him.

But I suppose that is best saved for another blog.

What a Week

2006-05-18T19:04:00.000-05:00

This has been one hell of a long week. And there's still one more day to go. The job is what it is and I don't have much of a choice but to suck it up and deal.

The problem is, I've never been one of those "God, I love my job!" kind of people. No matter what I do for employment, my job will NEVER be my life. My life is my life - the time I spend away from the office, and with those I love is my life. No matter how much I may enjoy what I do, I count down every minute before I can leave, and am painfully aware of every minute I have to stay late, because there is only one place for me...home.

Some people are made for their work. Others simply do what they have to to pay the bills and save the excitement for when they're with those they love.

Take this job and shove it!

2006-05-15T17:50:00.000-05:00

I HATE MY FUCKING JOB!
And I fucking mean it!

That's all I had to say.

Leggo Goes Fetish!

2006-05-14T18:37:00.000-05:00

I googled "BDSM" for a photo on my last post and look at the funny site I found!

F-ing Trolls!

2006-05-14T18:24:00.000-05:00

It's amazing how stupid some people are.

I just logged onto my collarme profile and saw I had a ton of new mail. This time around I've been pretty lucky in that, though none of the responses I have gotten pique my interest, none of them are bullshit, Neanderthal craposity either...

Until today...

"i'll be your master baby...i'll pimp you out nicely...reply to this email with fetish pics only...obey"

I'm too annoyed to even respond. What's funnier is the fact that this person has himself labeled a Male Slave.

I hate stupid people...

Death by Chimichanga

2006-05-13T20:31:00.000-05:00

I'm in so much pain!
Although it was worth it... :)

Went with my buddy Spring tonight to see the indi flick "Water" then to have some Mexican food. Both the movie and the food were amazing.

I ordered the usual - chicken chimichanga.
Not only did I eat it all, but I ordered a side of guacamole (which ended up being a whole bowl of quacamole dip) and ate all that too! Not to mention the tons of chips I downed before, during and after the meal...

I'm going to be full for weeks.

But damn it was good!

Clarification...

2006-05-12T18:56:00.000-05:00

It was brought to my attention that some clarification may be necessary with some of my blog entries.

For those who read but don't know me, or those who do know me but still aren't aware of what is going on in my life, when I write about "Him" I am speaking of an ex...my last Dom (hence the captial "H"). We are no longer together.

But there is another "him" in my life.
A beautiful, amazing 'nilla man.
My gentle giant...

It is that "him" who, for the moment, has my heart.

How 'bout them apples!

2006-05-12T18:37:00.000-05:00

Now, before you all go freaking out...this isn't me.
(I know, I know...disappointment fills the room)

It is however, something I am considering. I've been wanting to get them pierced for a while now. When I was seeing Him, He talked about us going together when I had them done - kind of a ritual signifying ownership. But we never got around to it. Hell, who wants nips you can't touch or play with in the very first few months of a new relationship!

But we didn't last, so I've decided there is no reason to wait. I can do this all on my own.
The only thing stopping me now??? The goddamned metal detectors at the airport...

But when I do get it done, I promise to post pics that really ARE me... :)

I am living proof...

2006-05-12T10:04:00.000-05:00

...that alchohol is a depressant.

I had one of those moments on the way to work today. I don't know if it was the miserable dreary weather, or the sleep deprivation, or the alcohol still swimming in my veins (probably all three), but the sadness hit me - and it hit me hard.

How is it that something that makes us feel so good can cause us so much pain afterwards? And why, after experiencing that misery, do we go back for more time and time again?

Yes, I'm talking about booze, but I do see the door I just opened... and the deeper discussion that could be had...one that I am not prepared for at this moment.

Right now, what I really want...

...is him.

To curl up beside him and kiss his soft lips.
I want silence - no television, no music, no talking.
Just the comfort of his presence and his arms around me.

I want to rest my weary head on his gentle-giant shoulder
...then close my eyes...
...and sleep...

Note to Self...

2006-05-12T06:31:00.000-05:00

...I'm not 22 anymore...

One beer - good
two beers - ok
three beers - not so good
Three beers and three shots on a Thursday night - bad...

...Very, Very Bad...

This is going to be a long day.

Drunk as Hell!

2006-05-11T23:10:00.000-05:00

Ok, so I didn't intend to drink as much as I did tonight. 12:08 and I'm just settling in for the night...which is WAY late for me...

Tomorrow is gonna SUCK!

At least tonight was worth it!

Met some great new peeps and some hot new guys! But really need some sleep now........Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Doggy Dom

2006-05-11T13:44:00.000-05:00

Ok, so this pic cracked me up.

I know most people will think this is cute - a parody of how the Shar-Pei gets its wrinkles.

But those of us who are familiar with the BDSM lifestyle might see something a bit different!

I've never had to endure clothes-pin torture, but I hear it's a real bitch...

...no pun intended...

*snicker*

Death and Perspective

2006-05-10T08:21:00.000-05:00

It's amazing how the death of someone close to you can really put things in perspective.

My grandmother passed away last month. With the support of my family, I handled it well, crying mostly in private...trying to remain strong for my mom.

I still have moments where it hits me suddenly...sitting in my room, on the train, walking to work...suddenly I think with total clarity...She's gone...

I miss her, but through this experience I learned that life is shorter than we all truly realize. Even though someone may live a long healthy life, in the grand scheme of things, their time on this earth is relatively short.

Now...things that once seemed so important to me (making lots of money, owning the biggest and best gadgets, having a big house, becoming successful in the corporate world) have become trivial. I realized all that shit is not what matters in the short time we have here.

Now my focus is on the smaller things....

Lauging till I can't take any more.
Seeing the world and traveling to far off places when I can.
Enriching the lives of those around me.
Passion!
Sunday afternoons snuggled up on the sofa with someone special.
Hugging and kissing and making love all night.
Spending as much time with family as possible.
Never holding back - telling people how much they mean to me.
Loving unconditionally.
Growing old with someone who is my best freind and lover.

Its sad that it takes the death of someone close to you to make you realize that, though you are still breathing, you might as well have been dead yourself.

I miss my grandmother dearly...
...but her death has made me more alive in so many ways.

I miss you Nana!

On the Train

2006-05-09T11:19:00.000-05:00

Dragging myself out of bed
Pulling myself into the shower
Why am I so tired…
…it wasn’t even a late night

Perhaps it’s the weather
This gloomy "not-quite-rain-not-quite-sun" state of being

The walk to the train normally invigorates me
But not this morning
I think my mind is laden with thought
And the load is heavy

On the train I dozed
Normally I stay awake, glancing at those nodding off around me.
Today, however, I succumbed to its mechanical lull

I dreamt I was flying...
...there was my family looking up at me.
Waving, smiling
Come home, Pooh. We miss you...
There was New York
No heads turned, no one is waving.
We don’t even see you...go back where you came from.
And then there was him…
A smile, a quick glance…
And silence.

Last Stop – Grand Central Station!
I awake and wonder where I am.
Oh yeah…I’m here.

It’s time to walk…
…and I’m so tired of walking…

Fear

2006-05-08T18:20:00.000-05:00

I often look into his face and wonder if I will ever find the nerve to say it.

I have planned on many occasions to finally open up to him, however when the moment comes and my mouth opens, what comes out instead is not the intended words, but rather nervous laughter or stunned silence. I find a way to laugh it off gracefully and move on, thinking next time...next time I will tell him.

Why does telling someone how we feel about them invoke so much fear in us? I supposed it is the fear of rejection - of looking that person in the eyes, spilling out everything that has found its way into your heart, and having them turn and walk away...love denied. Or perhaps what's worse is them not walking away, choosing to stay and partake in your company but voicing their intentions of not entering into any sort of relationship...knowing that you are hanging on...and hoping.

But I look at him and for an instant I believe that rejection would be worth the few precious moments of confession...because in those few moments there still lies the hope that he has been waiting for me to say these very things, that he too has been held captive by this thing between us.

But I have been single for twelve long years. I've had many confessional moments with a number of other men, but the end result has always been the same.

You are wonderful, but I'm not ready.
You're moving too fast for me.
I'm not looking for a relationship.
You just aren't "it" for me...

I'm sorry, but I don't feel the same way.

I fear opening up to him.
I fear the emotional exposure because history has been my guide, and the only thing I've ever been good at...is not being good enough.

Zzzzzzzz

2006-05-06T21:30:00.000-05:00

Went with my buddy Spring to see a movie tonight. It wasn't a late one and I was home before 10pm.

However, as I was walking in...yawning my head off and counting down the steps before I could curl up under the blankets and burrow my head into my pillow...I passed a roommate of mine in the hall. She was getting dressed and heading out for an evening of debauchery.

God I miss those days.

When the hell did I get so old?!