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I think I have to preface this entry with these 3 small, but important words: I am drunk.

Yes, I am. At this point in time, I am ingesting my 5th Corona. Yes, I have to pee. I have been peeing for many hours. But mama loves her Corona. 

In truth, I have been drunk since yesterday afternoon. What? Like no one else gets their Margarita on for Cinco de Mayo! (Did I just say, "get their Margarita on"? That is bound to be embarrassing in a few days, I promise.) Yeah, so...a few Margaritas in a Mexican dive bar in which my gf's and I were the only women in a land of rowdy Mexican dudes who barely spoke English. Uh huh. We noticed that they would only address our tetas, but dig-diggity damn did we not know that our drinks might have more than Tequila in them. (Yes, please add "dig-diggity damn" to the list of embarrassing shit I am bound to say today). Anyway, after one drink -in which we had trouble tasting anything other than Margarita mix- we felt really hot. Like, REALLY hot! Like, some deeply sweaty type shit going on, I'm saying. Yeah, we promptly left. We still think our shit contained more than we bargained for. 

So, like over-grown college kids on any given night, we picked up some beers and drank away our old age! (Well, Sam got imported beer, because unlike college kids, she can afford to pay $15 for a sixer!) Whoo! And yes, I'm still drinking, okay? Can I get a TRL-style "Whoo!" up in the place? I'm saying, the kind of "Whoo!" that is misplaced and totally inappropriate? The kind of "Whoo!" that actually means, "I don't know what else to say so...Yay to me for being inane and vapid!" Yeah! Can I get that kind of "Whoo"? Whooooo!

Anyway. I don't even know how the hell I'm typing right now, but I'm just about at the point where "happy and fun drunk" becomes "sad and depressed drunk" and I'm not having it! NO! I have a lot of shit to be happy about. 

So. I don't remember what made me want to write, but I felt like I needed to. I do have things I want to say, but...it's not fun, so...not gonna say any of it! I'm only thinking happy things today! Whoo!

This is beyond pointless, isn't it? I know. Also? I gotta pee. 

Maybe someday I'll get around to posting a real entry with some real thoughts and emotions or something. I don't even know.

Current Location: deskside
Current Mood: drunk drunk
Current Music: horrible american idol shit (whoo!)

It took maybe an hour before the damn butterflies showed up! Maybe two before I was imagining what a future with him might be like; three before I was wondering if I'd hyphenate or just full-on take his last name; four before I was wondering if my mama would have liked him (+3 minutes to decide that she'd have loved him personally, but hated him for me); and five days before I realized I was losing my mind.

Yes, apparently I am a 16-year-old (give or take 16 years or so). I know. But he's the only one who has that effect on me. I confess to spending a few days thinking things like: "fate" and "soul mate" and "destiny" and "serendipity" and "kismet." I promise that I didn't say any of them aloud, though. I finally settled on "amazing chemistry" and let it rest, because that's all it really is in the end.

I wish I could explain it, but I really don't have the words. I just don't have the experience. It's both too much and not enough all at once.

I could not even form a prayer around it consisting of any more than "help me." It's all that came to mind. I realize that I have been inviting all of this madness by sort-of-waiting, half-hoping, and comparing everyone I've met to him and how he makes me feel. As long as I keep doing that, I'm never really open to anyone or anything else.

That sound you hear is a door closing. For good this time.

I don't know what the plan is, but it's time.

"Forgive me" is the only prayer left.

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Current Location: bed
Current Mood: numb numb
Current Music: george michael ~ faith (track 9 only)

I want to say things.

I want to say things that fill pages.

It's the lamest damn thing. I have so much I want to talk about, but at the same time? I don't want to say anything. It's like sometimes when I'm really hungry, but I'm just so tired of thinking about/looking at food that I can't even be bothered to eat at all.

I guess I'm saying that I'm actually tired of the sound of my own keys typing out the same words about the same things over and over again. The problem, of course, is that I wanna talk about stuff! I piss myself off.

I don't even care anymore. Well, sorta. I mean, I hate that I'm even thinking about this again. I really, really, really do. I hate that I care if he's thinking about me at this very moment. I hate that I wonder what he's doing. I hate that I want to talk to him. I hate that I had to stop myself from seeing him this morning. I hate that he wants to pick up where we left off and I want to begin again. I hate that he doesn't think it's at all awkward. I hate that I'm such a freakish over-analyzer!

It makes me feel like shit, but if something new is going to happen between us, I don't want it to cost me anything. I don't want to have to talk or change or adjust or commit or give or care or think or feel. I just want him to kiss me. Forever. So dramatic, yes, but also? Very true. So why can't he just do that?

I don't want to think about it, but I can't stop. I'm obsessed with it. I'm tying myself into knots trying to figure out a way to get him to be casual with me. I love, love, love that he thinks I'm amazing. I don't understand it, but I do love it so very much. I'm just not anywhere near as great as he appears to think I am. This isn't some false modesty or low self-esteem type shit either. It's fact. And if I'm being honest, most of my trepidation about being with him for real is about wanting to keep his fantasy alive. I would love to be all the things he thinks I am, because that girl? Awesome! I might try to date her myself if she were real.

So, I suppose I'm insecure. It happens sometimes, I guess, but I don't like it. I want to be able to show him all my icky sides and have him still think I'm the best thing ever. The things he likes about me are true and effortless, but what about the things he's just assumed? Is the doubt I feel a lack of faith in myself or him or God or all of the above?

Ugh. So sick of myself.

This is the only part of my life where I still struggle mightily with just letting it roll. I always have to question and control it. If it is at all possible for God to be annoyed by someone, I imagine that He's half past fed up with me and this very subject right here.

The good news is I finally feel like eating.

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Current Location: trapped inside my head
Current Mood: blah blah
Current Music: nelly feat. tim mcgraw ~ over and over

Sigh. I am so ridiculous!

As I was innocently working at the job I love today, I happened to look up and there he was. Yes, him. We work the same route once a month, but I haven't seen him in that way since a long time ago, so I wasn't expecting it in the least. He was just standing there looking at me. I tried to just leave, I promise I did, but my curiosity won out:

K: Well, well, well. [Smiling cutely]
Me: So...how are you? [Smiling cutely back]
K: I'm good. How are you?
Me: I'm okay.
K: Still working around here, huh?
Me: Once a month, yep.
K: [Opens arms] So...come here. [Best hug ever!] God, you smell so good.
Me: [Melting a little at the way he said that] Sigh.
K: So what's going on with you? Seeing anybody?
Me: Nope.
K: How about since me? 
Me: Um, no.
K: [Staring at me intently] Really?
Me: Well, I mean...no. Not really, no.
K: Ah! I see, "not really"?
Me: Ahem. You?
K: Nope. [Goofy grin]
Me: Okay. [Goofy grin]
K: So, when can I see you?
Me: What? I mean, like um, what?
K: What do I have to do? Do you want me to get on my knees right here? I will for you.
Me: What? No, that's not even necessary.
K: Seriously, I've been trying for...what, like, 3 years to have you, right?
Me: Kevin...I...what?
K: Yeah, 3 years. What do I have to do?
Me: Kevin. Kevin! Kevin? You had me. [Immediate regret for saying it due to the look on his face]
K: [Expression softens like a million times over] You never let me just be with you. That made me think things. Like you were hiding something.
Me: I know. 
K: I want you to call me. Just talk to me.
Me: Kev...
K: No. I'm leaving it up to you. Whenever you're ready, okay? Just call me if you want to see me. Or just to talk to me. Okay?
Me: I don't know. I think...
K: When. You're. Ready.
Me: We'll see. 
K: Seriously, call me. [Automatically smacks me on the ass like the old days, amusing us both]

Yeah, so...sigh. Also? We totally kissed. And, yes, it was as amazing as always. What? I'm weak, okay! I know, but I couldn't help it. Yet, I didn't get any butterflies. I didn't even get nervous or panicky like before. My heart feels nothing. I'm finally completely and totally over him. Why would I go back to something that could not be anything more than it had been in the past? Because I'm weak, that's why!

I'm not going to do anything, though. I'm leaving this in the hands of God because I don't know what I'm doing. Maybe Kev is the one for me, but I'll be needing a brick wall, please.

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Current Location: big comfy chair
Current Mood: happy happy
Current Music: antm

"Are you in the dark right now in your circumstances, or in your life with God? Sometimes God puts us through the experience and discipline of darkness to teach us to hear and obey Him. Don't talk to other people about it; don't read books to find out the reason for the darkness; just listen and obey. If you talk to other people you cannot hear what God is saying."

Hmm. Interesting, no? It's an excerpt from my devotional for February 14th. (Yes, I am That Christian. I need  it in daily bite-sized chunks. Leave me be.) That's actually the last one I've done because I seriously did need to take a step back and stop trying to pressure God into doing what (I thought) I wanted.

So, what is God saying to the neurotic woman who wants everything she doesn't have? I don't know. Yeah, I was expecting some great epiphany too, but...not so much.

In Mr. Devotional Writer's defense, it hasn't been that long and it's not as though I haven't had any thoughts or feelings in my down time. I just don't know if I've heard what I'm supposed to be hearing. I guess I'm hoping it will come as a flashing neon sign. To paraphrase Dr. Maya Angelou, supposedly it first comes in a whisper and builds until it's a brick wall for the obstinately hard of hearing. She's probably right. Plus, some random guy was telling me (out of nowhere) that God won't do for us what we can do for ourselves. Hey, was that a whisper? Maybe.

Here's what I do know for sure: A certain someone (who stupidly thought he loved me) was dead on when he pronounced me afraid of everything. I am. Oh, I like to think I'm not, but I sooooo am. I am terrified of knowing that someone else has the power to change my life...for better or worse. I know it's not very liberated to think that I'd have to give up my independence, but I would. And if that's what I truly want, I should do it without fear. I can't do that. Not again.

I want to live in my own place. Alone. I want to pay my own bills. I want to read in complete silence. I want to stay up too late and get up too early. I want to have hors d'oeuvres for dinner. Every night. I want to spend too much money on celebrity magazines. I want to buy 6 more pairs of black shoes that I don't need. I want to take days off for no reason at all and do absolutely nothing. I want to hop in my car and go wherever, whenever. I want to go to Wal-Mart in the middle of the night just to look at random shit. I don't want to answer to anyone for any reason about anything. Can I do that in a real, healthy relationship? I can't. Inevitably, "I" becomes "we." ...Because it has to.

But also? I have no interest in being alone forever. Or for now. I don't know how to reconcile being intensely independent with being with someone who wants to blend his life with mine. Nor am I interested in being with someone who wants to be as independent as I do. I know! I'm fucked up, yo. And scared shitless of what that means.

What am I supposed to do? I don't know. So, I'm going to just give it a rest. I'm in no hurry. God knows what he's doing. I ripped my biological clock right out (and banged that bitch to death!) sometime last year and I haven't looked back. Can I tell you that I have never felt so much relief in all my life? It's not the most popular thing in the world, but here it is: I don't want children. I never have. I love them fiercely, but there are so many, many, many good reasons for me not to have any. And I feel good about it, because not one of them is "fear." Well, I was afraid that people (mothers, my family, potential mates) would think I'm totally selfish and not much of a woman, but you know what? I don't care.

I don't know if this is God at work or what, but I can finally breathe.

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Current Location: living room floor
Current Mood: relieved relieved
Current Music: jay-z ~ american gangster (name-checking depeche mode = love)

I am Angry. 

Yes, with a muthafuckin' capital fuckin' "A." Because people really fucking piss me off! And you know what I do when that happens? I swallow it. I push it down. I rationalize it. I think I'm letting it go, but it stacks right the fuck up.

And I? Am about to fucking snap in half over here. No. Fuck that shit to pieces.

Excuse me while I go apeshit on those I love:

C: [Redacted] Turns out that I was your BFF, dumbass. In every way. [Redacted] You act like you don't know, but just keep fucking with me, okay?

S: [Redacted] It was me who put up with you taking out your stress-anger on everyone. You were so mean and angry that everyone else avoided you. [Redacted] Did I shout that shit out? Never did, never will. [Redacted] Yeah, some of us don't do our wallowing in public, Debbie Downer. Get a journal. [I know.]

J: [Redacted] And now that I see you for what you are, you want me to call you? To come over? To move in with you? Are you high? Like...on some perpetually coked-out type shit? [Redacted] Your happiness is not my responsibility.

Randoms: I can't, okay? [Redacted] Move the fuck on. [Redacted] I don't care if you are a breast man or an ass man. Keep your promises to yourself. I am horrible at math. No, that does not make you superior. Stop speaking to me in Spanish. Don't insist that I am Hispanic or Other. Stop saying, "You're not really Black" as a euphemism for "You're not like other Black people." No, it's not a compliment. It's racist and insulting. See also: "You're so articulate, well-spoken, etc!" Yeah, we kinda know this means you didn't expect it. Shut up.

D: Not going to church and/or not being a fan of organized religion does not mean that I need to "come back to God." I haven't gone anywhere. God and I are better than we've ever been. I'm glad you care, but you can't save my soul. Drop it.

G: I get so frustrated because I don't understand. I trust that you know where my heart is and you will help me through this.

I feel a little better already.

(Right. So, I wrote this a while back. I was really pink-in-face-on-the-brink-of-tears-fire-breathing angry, so I thought I might need to sit on it a few days. That stretched into a week or so. At the time, I was really all about shouting out some super personal info about myself and others that just would not have been cool at all. I'm generally not a fan of self-editing, but it was beyond necessary.)

Current Location: all over the damn place
Current Mood: embarrassed embarrassed
Current Music: my own deep, cleansing breaths

 I once said God is "funny." I'd like to exchange that for a "hilarious," please.

I know it was forever ago, but as of late I have been thinking about Kevin. Yes, I know, but I was just kind of idly wondering if I had made some great mistake. And by "idly wondering" I do mean "full-on obsessing."

Wait. Hear me out.

It's not as though this sudden attack of rueful regret isn't well earned, okay? In the last two weeks I have met two men. They both started out normal enough, but as I've learned, a huge helping of "normal" always comes with a side of "WTF?"

Guy #1: Normal quickly stirred into overly touchy-feely/kinda sex offender-esque; only to be poured into a huge bowl of "Oh, yeah...I'm married." That last little tidbit I heard from someone else he was stalking. Someone who isn't quite of legal age.

Guy #2: He was very nice, actually. Friendly, cute, funny and respectful. And then. Suddenly, he whipped up a batch of "God has ordained that we get married and have kids. No, there is nothing we can do about that. Yes, it's meant to be. No, you can't disagree. Fate is bigger than the both of us."

Yes, so...I know that Kevin came with a heap of problems, but in comparison to who I'm meeting now? Shoulda, coulda, woulda, you know? But being that I would be an asshole to contact him and there is no way in hell he'd contact me, I needed to stop thinking/beating myself up about it.

So, I prayed. I prayed that God would help me to move on. That was 4 days ago. Kevin and I ended up face-to-face. Yesterday.

There he was smiling at me and making me feel beautiful all over again. He was so happy to see me. Oddly, I was thrilled to see him, too. Beyond how I had forgotten just how hot he is, I remembered how amazing he makes me feel. After a few moments, I became acutely aware that people were watching us stand there smiling at one another like we were both deranged. Finally, we said our "hellos" and "how-are-yous." I could have kissed him then. I know he wanted to touch me. I'm not even sure how it ended, but I remember he was gone and I was having a full-scale panic attack. I nearly passed out. No, really.

I didn't find out if he's moved on, but I'm sure he has. And here I am obsessing more than I was 4 days ago. See? God equals hilarious. I'm not sure what it means, but I don't believe in coincidence. Maybe it's simply the beginning of God helping me to finally get over this.


(BTW, "Blasphemous Rumors" is a song by Depeche Mode. Some lyrics: "I don't want to start any blasphemous rumors/but I think that God has a sick sense of humor." Personally, I wouldn't say God's sense of humor is sick at all. I may seem bummed, but trust that I am always amused.)

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Current Location: middle of the bed
Current Mood: good good
Current Music: tmz rerun

You know, reading back through some of my entries might make a person think that I am unhappy all the damn time! Seriously, that's such a weird thing considering that in my day-to-day life I'm actually pretty upbeat. It's so odd to realize that I only tend to document all my angst. That's one for the therapist, I think.

So. It's 2008! Yay! I love the beginning of a new year. I mean, I know it's cliche, but it really is like a whole new start. I was perusing the Cosmo (I know...) at the job I hate today. Just flipping through, you know? I swear it had nothing to do with looking for the article on "Dirty Sexy Sex" advertised on the cover. No. I swear.

Ahem. Anyway.

I was flipping through and came to that little horoscope guide-type chart to my exciting new year in love-and-whatever, hot-sex-Cosmo-sux-like-for-reals, same-shit-different-month thing. It's not that I believe in any of it (Christianity has broken my hopeful superstitious spirit), but it just made me realize that here I am at the tippy-top of an entire year that could bring anything. I realize that some of it could be bad, but...whatever! Bright side! By this time next year, I could be in love or engaged or married or with child (what? I'm old, so "with child" comes with the territory). I could have a new job or a new friend or just new shoes. I could win the lottery or meet Ben Affleck or pose for Playboy. I could write a letter or an article or a novel. I could learn to ski or cook or swim.

Yay to possibilities! Unfortunately, I can't say that I won't feel any of the angst that I just luh-HUH-huv to document, but for right now? Totally excited!

Also? Yes, I know I won't be posing for Playboy. But I did check out Adrianne Curry's "spread" (I know...). And...ew. I don't care what those "bunnies" like to spew forth, that shit is not tasteful. No, Adrianne, it's just not. Maybe there are raunchier ways to show off your new salty fun bags and artfully groomed cootie-coo, but...that was plenty, thanks. She and her chick-on-chick-on-chick fantasies (played out in pics with her real life BFF, no less) can stop assaulting my memory at any time. Ew. Way to choose a winner, Tyra.

Happy New Year indeed.

Current Location: big comfy chair
Current Mood: cheerful cheerful
Current Music: r.e.m. ~ out of time (my fave cd! makes me so happy!)

One day, my best friend stopped speaking to me. Once, she sent me an email stating that she knew all she needed to know about me. That would serve as our final communication. She shut me out completely. I'm still not sure why.

That was eight years ago.

Yesterday, she called me. Out of the blue.

I answered the phone and there she was. All sunshine. "Merry Christmas! I'm making out my cards! What's your address?"

After eight years. Of total silence.

After 5 years or so, I finally let it go. I stopped crying. I stopped blaming myself. I didn't bring it up yesterday. I just talked to her. For seven hours. We talked about everything but that day. She told me how much she has missed me. Nothing more.

I miss her. I love her. And? I fucking hate her.

She asked me to visit. She told me that she still tells people stories about all the fun we had. She put her husband on the phone. He, at least, seemed to realize that the whole thing was pretty awkward. Especially since I suspect he had something to do with us not speaking anymore. Maybe he knew how much she talked to me about leaving him. Maybe he didn't know how many times I encouraged her to try to work it out. And she's still talking about leaving him. I think she's serious this time. Again, I told her to get some counseling to see if the marriage could be saved. But secretly? I hope she leaves him. Trust me, the reasons are very good. Reasons I don't think she even knows exist. But he knows I know.


God is funny. (Peculiar and ha-ha.) Cat was not exactly what I prayed for, but she's just the right answer.

And as dramatic as this may sound, with all things coming full circle it kind of feels like I'm done now.

Maybe I'm finally done.

Current Location: big comfy chair
Current Mood: hopeful hopeful
Current Music: india.arie ~ acoustic soul

Let me say that I love my friends. I really do. I love Claudie, Sam, Dina and even crazy Stace. What I'm feeling isn't about having mad love for all of my chicas, okay? I'm so glad they are in my life. Sometimes they drive me nuts, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Besides, I'm no picnic myself. I'm aware that I can be annoying and judgmental and mean and dismissive and distant and just...well, me about things. I'd like to think they wouldn't have it any other way either. Ahem. So, what I'm about to say isn't about them not being enough. 

It's just that...I'm lonely. I know it's so retro, but I'm not the kind of woman who can be all Mary Tyler Moore-the-gay-divorcee-and-loving-it, okay? I need hugs. I need someone to call me before bed and make me feel like I'm the last voice he wants to hear. I need someone to call when something crazy happens. Someone who loves me in a way that my friends just can't. I need someone to hold my hand and laugh at my stupid, stupid jokes. And, God help me, I need kisses. Miss them the most.

Yes. I need all of it. I know it's not very liberated or progressive, but I miss that stuff. A lot. All the time. It's my dirty little secret.

I can't apologize for it, but I feel like I should.

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Current Location: living room
Current Mood: lonely lonely
Current Music: Heidi & Seal (so adorable!)