So true, so true. Even when they are douchebags. So faithful reader(s) will recall my encounter with Mr. Post Man wherein he gave me the once over and pronounced me 'getting there' with regard to my obvious aesthetic goals at the gym. I saw him again tonight and he remarked that I was 'looking good' and had 'greatly improved.' What the hell, damn guy!? I. did. not. ask. you.
Oh, and I look exactly the same as I did at the beginning of the year when you saw me outside with a winter jacket on.
Ass wipe. I swear I will be ready for you next time.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Sunday, March 27, 2011
What a difference a week makes
Whelp, I fucked up. That's a line from a story I love. This time last week I was dreading work but enjoying a little me time while Ashley was away. This week I have several new adages to add to the sage sayings chest; never apply for a job you don't actually want, I have never seen a sure thing actually pan out, and for the nth time, never ever say what you'll never do, it is ALWAYS, ALWAYS, ALWAYS a cosmic set up to be punked.
More to come.
More to come.
Monday, March 21, 2011
What we want
You know what's hard for me to do? Move with a sense of purpose towards the unknown. That's probably hard for everyone. It's probably how we stay working at the same place for x number of years or in the same not going anywhere relationship long past expiration. I have met one person that seems to move quickly out of situations but theirs is a different story. Either they are really good at quickly figuring out what doesn't work for them or they don't give anything enough time to settle. I've never met a person who can get a resume together faster. I gave serious consideration to quitting 7 years ago and never even got a resume drafted. Truth is, I'm kind of lazy when it comes to things I'm ambivalent about. What's keeping me largely rooted in my current job is the lack of clarity on what I'd be doing instead. I strongly suspect the thing I hate most about any job I could possibly have is actually having to show up regularly. So if that's my rub and pretty much every job requires me to be present even when I don't feel like it, I can't really see an upside to learning anew where to park and where the bathrooms are.
It was a little more complicated when I left the military but it would be accurate to use that word, 'left.' I wasn't going towards anything, I was just leaving where I'd been. A lot of events conspired to bring me to that decision point but I wondered how long I would stay since almost the very beginning. So I wonder if it will be that way with this job. Will I once again be in a position where it doesn't seem to matter what I do next. I don't know. I feel very lucky. I've worked for the best man I will probably ever work for right out of college. I've survived a whole host of adequate/mediocre to terrible bosses since. Bosses who outright threatened people, bosses who harassed, clueless bosses, persnickety bosses. I've survived them. I have never left a job feeling inadequate, even if I started that way (which I usually do). I just feel done and restless for new bullshit to put up with.
But if you do feel inadequate, neglected and abused, it's hard for me to understand why you would keep inviting another boot to the head. To prove you can take the licks? To come back when it looks like you can't stand and deliver a knockout? To pay penance? I know I will want to be in the corner to commiserate with all the cheap shots not being called by the ref, with the ice pack to take down the swelling, but I really really wish I think, that you would stop boxing. What does an expert marksman need with boxing gloves anyway? What does a football player need with nothing but net? A perfectly good football player tortured with his poor basketball record. What a waste. Not saying we don't all have a little Bo in us; we want to be just as good a baseball player as we are a basketball player. Just hate to see a season wasted watching someone try to be great at something they don't even like. But I understand that sometimes you just need something to move towards.
It was a little more complicated when I left the military but it would be accurate to use that word, 'left.' I wasn't going towards anything, I was just leaving where I'd been. A lot of events conspired to bring me to that decision point but I wondered how long I would stay since almost the very beginning. So I wonder if it will be that way with this job. Will I once again be in a position where it doesn't seem to matter what I do next. I don't know. I feel very lucky. I've worked for the best man I will probably ever work for right out of college. I've survived a whole host of adequate/mediocre to terrible bosses since. Bosses who outright threatened people, bosses who harassed, clueless bosses, persnickety bosses. I've survived them. I have never left a job feeling inadequate, even if I started that way (which I usually do). I just feel done and restless for new bullshit to put up with.
But if you do feel inadequate, neglected and abused, it's hard for me to understand why you would keep inviting another boot to the head. To prove you can take the licks? To come back when it looks like you can't stand and deliver a knockout? To pay penance? I know I will want to be in the corner to commiserate with all the cheap shots not being called by the ref, with the ice pack to take down the swelling, but I really really wish I think, that you would stop boxing. What does an expert marksman need with boxing gloves anyway? What does a football player need with nothing but net? A perfectly good football player tortured with his poor basketball record. What a waste. Not saying we don't all have a little Bo in us; we want to be just as good a baseball player as we are a basketball player. Just hate to see a season wasted watching someone try to be great at something they don't even like. But I understand that sometimes you just need something to move towards.
Procrastination
It's too early to feel this bad about the day ahead but I do want to pull the sheets over my head and hide out in my makeshift fort. Maybe shower, maybe not. My uncomfortable bed (number 132 on the list of things I need to address) never feels as good as it does in the morning when my head is filled with the calculus of the day. I think I will cancel my morning meeting as it just puts me further behind and isn't time sensitive.
May I just digress? Coffee is amazing. I've been sitting her dosing as the temperature allows and I love that first feeling of alertness, especially on an empty stomach, that reminds me of why I shlep around first thing in the morning making it.
It's the perfect stay at home day and though my meeting cancellation would free me up to do just that, it wouldn't do me any favors in clearing some of the ambitious molehills in my life.
The weekend was good and I managed to celebrate part of the day outside, dosing up on some Vitamin D and exercising Baloo. It made me less effecient--so did getting out of bed at 11--but I'm still mostly glad I chose to spend the day that way. My sister left for a party early Sunday morning with the bong bag in tow which prompted me to send her an e-mail reminding her that her job had random drug testing. I told her it would be unlucky for her to get popped but she could manage unlucky by making smart choices. I know I'm that person. I'm only a little bit apologetic about it.
Today is not a good day to be faced with any major decisions so I hope I will not have to make any today. Somewhat related in ways I don't have time to explain, a bit of unsolicited advice; never put your name in the hat for a place you wouldn't otherwise go just to be with a friend.
May I just digress? Coffee is amazing. I've been sitting her dosing as the temperature allows and I love that first feeling of alertness, especially on an empty stomach, that reminds me of why I shlep around first thing in the morning making it.
It's the perfect stay at home day and though my meeting cancellation would free me up to do just that, it wouldn't do me any favors in clearing some of the ambitious molehills in my life.
The weekend was good and I managed to celebrate part of the day outside, dosing up on some Vitamin D and exercising Baloo. It made me less effecient--so did getting out of bed at 11--but I'm still mostly glad I chose to spend the day that way. My sister left for a party early Sunday morning with the bong bag in tow which prompted me to send her an e-mail reminding her that her job had random drug testing. I told her it would be unlucky for her to get popped but she could manage unlucky by making smart choices. I know I'm that person. I'm only a little bit apologetic about it.
Today is not a good day to be faced with any major decisions so I hope I will not have to make any today. Somewhat related in ways I don't have time to explain, a bit of unsolicited advice; never put your name in the hat for a place you wouldn't otherwise go just to be with a friend.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
The meek shall inherit my disdain
Okay, I know this drug is working me over right now but hear me out. I've never met a truly meek person. That's probably why the actual meek will inherit the earth. The poser-meek, people who get their feelings hurt over and over again because they front meek, are discounted and then feel miffed that no one is interested in mining their potential awesomeness, well the title of this post clearly states my position.
I despise weakness, which is not to be mistaken for a lack of ability. I sympathize, empathize with inability. I'm particularly annoyed right now with weakness of conviction, and a lack of self-preservation that is borderline immolation. I think we all visit that place, where it's easier to give yourself over to something than it is to evaluate whether you are getting anything from it, but I grow tired of listening to anyone, including myself, who dwells, you know, puts up curtains and buys comfortable furniture, in self-defeating foolishness. I grow tired of offering a shoulder so one can lament their self-cemented place in life. And if the source of the angst is a job, and you keep offering your nuts up to be kicked, I have zero sympathy and if I love you, I'm really pissed at you. And if you cry, I'm sad for you because now you are that person who cries at work.
Why am I sad? Because you wouldn't be crying or sad if you really believed you sucked. You know you have value and inherent awesomeness but when its not validated, you doubt yourself and then inherit the often presumed opinion of people you usually don't even like or respect. I don't know why but certain people reflexively abuse that kind of personality. And those who don't abuse it, will take advantage of it. Not so much for what they are willing to give (though that's nice too) but because of some other reason I can't quite put my finger on. Maybe a person who doesn't acknowledge they have worth makes other people feel better, like they have a touchstone for at least one person they know they are better than.
I despise people not sticking up for themselves, who care more about people liking them than about representing any part of their interests, nevermind their best ones. Whose default compromise is themselves. That makes me crazy. You can never be sure of where you stand with a person like that because they want to know how you feel before they can register their opinion or preference. Pull the thread and one can doubt if a person like that even wants to be your friend, so adept they are at molding to other people's preferences. We all take one for the team but they take almost every. single. one. for the team. Then they shudder under the pressure of expectation once the team expects them to keep taking it all and ironically convince themselves that no one takes one better. It's disgusting. It's destructive. It's annoying.
Seriously, this allergy medication releases the haterade. I need to taper off.
I despise weakness, which is not to be mistaken for a lack of ability. I sympathize, empathize with inability. I'm particularly annoyed right now with weakness of conviction, and a lack of self-preservation that is borderline immolation. I think we all visit that place, where it's easier to give yourself over to something than it is to evaluate whether you are getting anything from it, but I grow tired of listening to anyone, including myself, who dwells, you know, puts up curtains and buys comfortable furniture, in self-defeating foolishness. I grow tired of offering a shoulder so one can lament their self-cemented place in life. And if the source of the angst is a job, and you keep offering your nuts up to be kicked, I have zero sympathy and if I love you, I'm really pissed at you. And if you cry, I'm sad for you because now you are that person who cries at work.
Why am I sad? Because you wouldn't be crying or sad if you really believed you sucked. You know you have value and inherent awesomeness but when its not validated, you doubt yourself and then inherit the often presumed opinion of people you usually don't even like or respect. I don't know why but certain people reflexively abuse that kind of personality. And those who don't abuse it, will take advantage of it. Not so much for what they are willing to give (though that's nice too) but because of some other reason I can't quite put my finger on. Maybe a person who doesn't acknowledge they have worth makes other people feel better, like they have a touchstone for at least one person they know they are better than.
I despise people not sticking up for themselves, who care more about people liking them than about representing any part of their interests, nevermind their best ones. Whose default compromise is themselves. That makes me crazy. You can never be sure of where you stand with a person like that because they want to know how you feel before they can register their opinion or preference. Pull the thread and one can doubt if a person like that even wants to be your friend, so adept they are at molding to other people's preferences. We all take one for the team but they take almost every. single. one. for the team. Then they shudder under the pressure of expectation once the team expects them to keep taking it all and ironically convince themselves that no one takes one better. It's disgusting. It's destructive. It's annoying.
Seriously, this allergy medication releases the haterade. I need to taper off.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Some random shit
Daylight has saved me no time and I want my hour back.
Yesterday I drafted a post called 'things that make me happy.' I trundled off to bed before I finished it and now the moment has passed. Today I'm a hot druggy mess. I was bubbly at work even as I struggled with arthritis in one finger. At least I think it's arthritis. It hurt, what do I know.
Anyway, I helped a friend deal with an asshole at work in what I am going to deem tonight as my trademark perfectly calm and reasoned way of letting someone know I will fuck them up and have absolutely nothing to lose in the transaction. I have already done the math and determined it's worth it so let's do this. Felt good. Haven't worked out in over a week and am taking allergy meds that have predictably thrown my brain chemistry into a heady tailspin. Needed an outlet.
Got majorly bummed about my mom tonight. She's basically slowly starving. I remembered when we talked about my being a donor I proposed the worst case scenario would be that she ended up back on dialysis. I wish I had been right. I'm not sure I will ever stop feeling guilty about that. She went through hell and it didn't even work. Dialysis and waiting for the right kidney would have been our best worst case scenario. It is done but it doesn't mean I don't feel bad about it. I was doing an inventory tonight of what else I might be able to give away while I'm living so that maybe someone will be better off. Pretty shitty feeling all around.
Caught up with long lost Maybe of whom it has been said 'would rather be interesting than be married.' He vented about his relationship, going into its third year, lamenting his lost sense of self and lack of decorating autonomy. It was therapeutic for him and educational for me. He was like a man getting a break from prison, just happy to be free to talk, to have his space. His situation is not unlike mine, under siege in an unwelcome communal existence. He misses his girlfriends, his ability to talk to women at all (I have apparently been grandfathered in but he still called me while she was out of town), his space, his autonomy. He still wants to have kids but not actually raise them or be married. He's such a strange man. But he owns it. I liked catching up with him. I forgot how nice it was to have our kind of conversation. Honest almost to the point of lacking tact. It's how we do.
My father thinks highly of me. Nothing I would have wanted to know more as a teenager I think. I have it now and it makes a difference in how I regard the rest of the world which has never been as hard on me as he was. The world can basically kiss my ass because he might be the hardest man to work for or with that I have ever known. I avoid working for or with assholes when I can but I don't think I could have had handled them the way I have had I not had him as my sensei. He gave me sympathy for the devil. He told me before I got on the plane at 19 for boot camp that no one there would say anything worse to me than he ever had. He was right, they didn't faze me. And as an adult he has randomly written me or called me with the best things a father could ever say to his children. Platinum level shit, y'all. Like throwing down the gauntlet for the yet to be named possibly fictional future Mr. Ava. Mr. Ava is going to have to be tight and right. Dad is mercurial and devastatingly effective at eviscerating your feelings/esteem/confidence, but he's articulate, handsome, sensitive, generous, does the right thing, wants to do the right thing, and is beautifully flawed and fascinating. And he thinks I'm awesome which makes me want to be live that in a way that could probably be taken back a notch. Not sure. Just comes to mind when I consider whether to entertain a conversation with a man who makes it clear he does not want to date me but does want to come over to my house. That's not what someone oozing awesome does. But it is what a single woman with idle time and thoughts to match might.
Yesterday I drafted a post called 'things that make me happy.' I trundled off to bed before I finished it and now the moment has passed. Today I'm a hot druggy mess. I was bubbly at work even as I struggled with arthritis in one finger. At least I think it's arthritis. It hurt, what do I know.
Anyway, I helped a friend deal with an asshole at work in what I am going to deem tonight as my trademark perfectly calm and reasoned way of letting someone know I will fuck them up and have absolutely nothing to lose in the transaction. I have already done the math and determined it's worth it so let's do this. Felt good. Haven't worked out in over a week and am taking allergy meds that have predictably thrown my brain chemistry into a heady tailspin. Needed an outlet.
Got majorly bummed about my mom tonight. She's basically slowly starving. I remembered when we talked about my being a donor I proposed the worst case scenario would be that she ended up back on dialysis. I wish I had been right. I'm not sure I will ever stop feeling guilty about that. She went through hell and it didn't even work. Dialysis and waiting for the right kidney would have been our best worst case scenario. It is done but it doesn't mean I don't feel bad about it. I was doing an inventory tonight of what else I might be able to give away while I'm living so that maybe someone will be better off. Pretty shitty feeling all around.
Caught up with long lost Maybe of whom it has been said 'would rather be interesting than be married.' He vented about his relationship, going into its third year, lamenting his lost sense of self and lack of decorating autonomy. It was therapeutic for him and educational for me. He was like a man getting a break from prison, just happy to be free to talk, to have his space. His situation is not unlike mine, under siege in an unwelcome communal existence. He misses his girlfriends, his ability to talk to women at all (I have apparently been grandfathered in but he still called me while she was out of town), his space, his autonomy. He still wants to have kids but not actually raise them or be married. He's such a strange man. But he owns it. I liked catching up with him. I forgot how nice it was to have our kind of conversation. Honest almost to the point of lacking tact. It's how we do.
My father thinks highly of me. Nothing I would have wanted to know more as a teenager I think. I have it now and it makes a difference in how I regard the rest of the world which has never been as hard on me as he was. The world can basically kiss my ass because he might be the hardest man to work for or with that I have ever known. I avoid working for or with assholes when I can but I don't think I could have had handled them the way I have had I not had him as my sensei. He gave me sympathy for the devil. He told me before I got on the plane at 19 for boot camp that no one there would say anything worse to me than he ever had. He was right, they didn't faze me. And as an adult he has randomly written me or called me with the best things a father could ever say to his children. Platinum level shit, y'all. Like throwing down the gauntlet for the yet to be named possibly fictional future Mr. Ava. Mr. Ava is going to have to be tight and right. Dad is mercurial and devastatingly effective at eviscerating your feelings/esteem/confidence, but he's articulate, handsome, sensitive, generous, does the right thing, wants to do the right thing, and is beautifully flawed and fascinating. And he thinks I'm awesome which makes me want to be live that in a way that could probably be taken back a notch. Not sure. Just comes to mind when I consider whether to entertain a conversation with a man who makes it clear he does not want to date me but does want to come over to my house. That's not what someone oozing awesome does. But it is what a single woman with idle time and thoughts to match might.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Boo
It wasn't supposed to be like this. I was supposed to finish some chores early and have this great expanse of time to sort out all the virtual posts I've been making in my week away. Instead I'm an hour behind the hour I lost to the arbitrary daylight savings time fairy. I'm dreading work in the usual way and haven't exercised in a week. Denver was wonderful company with mostly shitty weather and though I shouldn't, I did take the weather personally.
I am not Catholic but I do like the idea of Lent and often try to participate just because. This year I considered giving up online dating but then gave up giving up things. I wasn't in the mood to break my habit of hanging out in the sad singles bar that is online dating doing about the same thing I do in regular bars; read and hope against all odds that someone amazing notices me.
Right before I left for Denver IBC surfaced and told me I was a good friend and opened up a bit about this last long term relationship which set me off daydreaming and regretting and wondering all over again. A recap for those who have not mentally indexed the blog, IBC (short for Inappropriate Boy Crush) is a dear sweet guy close to a decade younger than me who used to ask me out to things (including his family cabin where he told me loved me). I was never quite sure if he was pursuing me as a friend or had something else in mind which provoked in me a charming mix of aloof and spastic so I never did confirm in conversation or otherwise where his head was at when he told me he loved me. I just know he's special to me and when he was dating someone else, I felt bad I had missed my chance to find out what was on his mind back then. He's actually one of the good guys. His label on my phone was Opie when I first met him. He's just adorable.
I've been trying to figure out how I will feel about this time in my life when I'm old. Will I cherish my debauchery (such that it is) or tell cautionary tales? Will I ever take a real risk in the actual moment with IBC or anyone like him or will I maintain my poker face and continue to analyze the moment long after it has passed? Will it be unambiguous if it's ever right? I just know I rewrote the ending to that encounter years ago with IBC over and over again in my daydreams and wished I knew if he was a good kisser. I can't conceive a world in which we would actually date and my optimistic guess is we were interested in eachother but both too serious/pragmatic to make that move. Too much a chance it would be very messy and feelings would be hurt.
It's just so much easier when feelings aren't involved. Loving the one you're with, even though it is singularly unsatisfying (so far) in all the ways that matter--I understand the appeal. It feels great not to care. Like buying a knock off bag. It's a waste of money but to the untrained eye, it looks covetable, it gets the job done, and it's not a tragedy when it falls apart. I have another weekend to myself coming up and I am tempted to dust off an old knockoff just to have something while I wait for nothing else to happen.
Boo to shitty weather, boo to Monday, boo to men, and boo to daylight savings. Just Boo.
I am not Catholic but I do like the idea of Lent and often try to participate just because. This year I considered giving up online dating but then gave up giving up things. I wasn't in the mood to break my habit of hanging out in the sad singles bar that is online dating doing about the same thing I do in regular bars; read and hope against all odds that someone amazing notices me.
Right before I left for Denver IBC surfaced and told me I was a good friend and opened up a bit about this last long term relationship which set me off daydreaming and regretting and wondering all over again. A recap for those who have not mentally indexed the blog, IBC (short for Inappropriate Boy Crush) is a dear sweet guy close to a decade younger than me who used to ask me out to things (including his family cabin where he told me loved me). I was never quite sure if he was pursuing me as a friend or had something else in mind which provoked in me a charming mix of aloof and spastic so I never did confirm in conversation or otherwise where his head was at when he told me he loved me. I just know he's special to me and when he was dating someone else, I felt bad I had missed my chance to find out what was on his mind back then. He's actually one of the good guys. His label on my phone was Opie when I first met him. He's just adorable.
I've been trying to figure out how I will feel about this time in my life when I'm old. Will I cherish my debauchery (such that it is) or tell cautionary tales? Will I ever take a real risk in the actual moment with IBC or anyone like him or will I maintain my poker face and continue to analyze the moment long after it has passed? Will it be unambiguous if it's ever right? I just know I rewrote the ending to that encounter years ago with IBC over and over again in my daydreams and wished I knew if he was a good kisser. I can't conceive a world in which we would actually date and my optimistic guess is we were interested in eachother but both too serious/pragmatic to make that move. Too much a chance it would be very messy and feelings would be hurt.
It's just so much easier when feelings aren't involved. Loving the one you're with, even though it is singularly unsatisfying (so far) in all the ways that matter--I understand the appeal. It feels great not to care. Like buying a knock off bag. It's a waste of money but to the untrained eye, it looks covetable, it gets the job done, and it's not a tragedy when it falls apart. I have another weekend to myself coming up and I am tempted to dust off an old knockoff just to have something while I wait for nothing else to happen.
Boo to shitty weather, boo to Monday, boo to men, and boo to daylight savings. Just Boo.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Oh that's what I was missing
It's Friday night, it's First Friday and the streets are packed with teenagers trying to get wasted off of cappuccino sized plastic cups of free wine being passed out in the galleries that stay open on First Friday. I forgot it was First Friday until I got about a block away from home and ran into a blockage of aimless teens in skinny jeans (girls and guys), obnoxious eyeglass frames, scarves, and more obnoxious headgear. The week is done, Ashley is gone, and I've got that aimless feeling, the kind that ends up calling someone I shouldn't call or indulging a conversation I shouldn't have with the same person I should not have called. I didn't like WBB but I sure wish I had this luxury of time when we were dating. I hate that all I have on tap is picking up poop, doing laundry, and watching my DVR'd shows. Oh, and figuring out what I'm going to eat. I think I might be a suffering junkie. That I'm that woman from the Flannery O'Conner story, "she'd a been a good woman had there been someone there to shoot her every minute of her life."
When I come home most nights, the TV is on, Ashley is posted on the couch and Baloo has not been fed. I sigh while Judge Joe Brown clowns or Judge Judy berates and feed the dog and look for something to eat, walk the dog, retreat to my room, and fall asleep. I had forgotten this routine. This aimless feeling. I thought, yay, I can talk on the phone (no one is around), I can invite WBB over (we're not dating anymore), I can go out with girlfriends (out of town). I will find myself eventually tonight and it will be fine, maybe even better than fine. But I'm thinking right now, I finally have time and time has nothing for me. Why must you be like that time? Why?
When I come home most nights, the TV is on, Ashley is posted on the couch and Baloo has not been fed. I sigh while Judge Joe Brown clowns or Judge Judy berates and feed the dog and look for something to eat, walk the dog, retreat to my room, and fall asleep. I had forgotten this routine. This aimless feeling. I thought, yay, I can talk on the phone (no one is around), I can invite WBB over (we're not dating anymore), I can go out with girlfriends (out of town). I will find myself eventually tonight and it will be fine, maybe even better than fine. But I'm thinking right now, I finally have time and time has nothing for me. Why must you be like that time? Why?
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Observations
I have great friends. Really amazing, considerate, funny, talented, loving, outrageous friends. Not everyone has friends like mine. Not everyone has someone outside their family that they trust with their heart with their most precious and their ugly. Who are on the receiving end of so much thoughtfulness and care. Who I would chose over my family to care for me when I'm ill. Friends are special and amazing extensions of my family even though they have families of their own.
My sister is going to 'visit my parents' this weekend. I suspect she will take a second stab at weed acquisition and spend a significant chunk of her home time out visiting friends. If we were not related, I can't imagine I would ever hang out with her. I am looking forward to a nice house-to-myself time though I sorta wish I still had a WBB or equivalent to relish the alone time. Annoys me that she decides to give me a weekend when I no longer have a gentleman caller though I guess it should annoy me more that she was kind of a jerk about being scarce the few times he did come over.
I am responding to a 25 year old guy originally from the Ivory Coast. I know I am unlikely to marry or have a long term relationship with anyone I meet on the internet or with anyone at all. I have already told him he is too young for me and still he returns, this time with a phone number. I definitely do not understand men and I definitely want to figure out how I can add cats to the equation of my long term companionship planning. But when I want blog fodder, I can always count on the the 'ol interweb dating sites.
My sister is blow drying her hair after 11. Least considerate person I know. Easily.
Arg.
My sister is going to 'visit my parents' this weekend. I suspect she will take a second stab at weed acquisition and spend a significant chunk of her home time out visiting friends. If we were not related, I can't imagine I would ever hang out with her. I am looking forward to a nice house-to-myself time though I sorta wish I still had a WBB or equivalent to relish the alone time. Annoys me that she decides to give me a weekend when I no longer have a gentleman caller though I guess it should annoy me more that she was kind of a jerk about being scarce the few times he did come over.
I am responding to a 25 year old guy originally from the Ivory Coast. I know I am unlikely to marry or have a long term relationship with anyone I meet on the internet or with anyone at all. I have already told him he is too young for me and still he returns, this time with a phone number. I definitely do not understand men and I definitely want to figure out how I can add cats to the equation of my long term companionship planning. But when I want blog fodder, I can always count on the the 'ol interweb dating sites.
My sister is blow drying her hair after 11. Least considerate person I know. Easily.
Arg.
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