Musings on a Sunday Afternoon

I had a whole rant here on how stupid it is to hate growing up and how lame I am for resorting to stupid crutches and useless mindfucks to get where I am now, and how I think I've broken my own heart in the midst of looking for who I am when I'm not trying to be what someone else needs.

Instead, however, I'll bypass the sobfest with a Ctl-A and a swat of Delete, and instead heed my own favorite quote "what you think about, you bring about" and sit for a minute with some contented thoughts.

I highly suggest, even if you aren't a chip eater, a splurge on Terra exotic vegetable chips. They are just other root veggies cooked like chips, today I'm enjoying the Mediterranean version crushed over my salad dressed with feta cheese and red wine and oil dressing, but the crunch and the flavor of each color being decidedly different, and with a more sophisticated flavor combination than cheddar and sour cream (garlic, oregano, and olive oil with a hint of lemon to be exact), well, I'm dressed in gym clothes but somehow think these flavors demand at least a taster of white wine to adequately complete the palat.

For quite some time now, I've chosen not to bother with things that I used to obsess over. I remember my mom laughing quite hard as she walked in to catch me singing to the radio and tidying my sock drawer (by color, occasion, freuency, and leaving room for the 3 pair currently in the wash, we don't want anything out of order...) - of late, my socks are matched but tossed into a bucket of sorts, panties catagorized into 2 buckets as well with "shows panty lines" and "doesn't show panty lines" as the only differentiation. I'm realizing now that perhaps I was on to something in my younger days, especially when it comes to making the bed. Even if I spend all day in bed, there is just something about having to pull back the covers and lay the pillow down that makes it Bedtime. If you aren't in this habit, I'd urge you to try it for a few days and report back if there is a marked difference in your ability to fall asleep and get restful sleep.

I've basically given up on moving out. This is spurred by the continued absence of the girlfriend, causing the roomie to be a bit more chatty, a bit less messy, and quiet in the evenings. I've certainly grown a tollerance to the BS of it all, but as a school teacher with plenty of duties and commitments after work, I find that his regular evening routine amounts to coming in between 9 and 10pm, grabbing a bowl of cereal, and retreating to his room. I'm a bit excited that he's decided his room needed a massive overhaul this weekend and the bed frame is in peices in the living room =) And that he's already had the AC going and has forgotten to ask for bill money in 3 months, well, with the price of gas, milk, eggs, bread, meat, veggies, and I'm sure soon air going up with no myth that it will ever come down, I'm finding a peace in my cheap rent and already-here-ness.

New habits are hard, right? But that doesn't mean they aren't worth while though. I'm thinking if I just keep at whatever I'm doing, whatever isn't my old comfort zone will eventually be part of my new comfort zone, and if I just keep at it, I'll get into a new groove. For better or for worse is yet to be determined, but I think wanting to spend the afternoon walking instead of drinking might be a step in at least a healthier direction, no?
Some things don't have to totally change though, like the bliss that is Ben and Jerry's ice cream. I can't seem to ever find my true favorite, chocolate brownie frozen yogurt, but the light phish food I picked up has added a particular kind of yumminess to my afternoon, even if I did have to leave most of the chunks of phish to swim for next time.

I'm running pretty low on energy to force a smile or happy thoughts these days, I'm a little impressed at myself for coming up with this meager list, but at least it's not another whinefest, right? ;)

Batter Up!

The hits just keep comin folks, get yur popcorn and soda pop and hunker in for a doozie of a show!!!

That's all I've got in me right now, but lets just say that I got my haircut Sunday, it's decidedly exactly what I asked her not to do, and I've found out that I can go back and ask for her next Sunday on her next shift and get it done the way I want for free. When I got here the week before Thanksgiving, it was darn near to my ass, the cut I really liked had it just past the shoulder, and I asked this chick to take it up 3 inches from there. The point is, this time next week, I won't be wearing my childhood security blanket down my back anymore; I'm changing, and it hurts, and people are noticing, and some are really verbal about how much they don't like me, and when it's on top of about every random thing coming from the easy daily contacts, it's just enough to get you to spastically clean.
That's right, I didn't reach for the bourbon or the beer and I didn't go out for brownies, I found enough carpet to vacuum, hung a picture, did laundry, and the shower is soaking in some goo I have to scrub off soon.
And ya know what?? I don't feel any better, but, I don't feel any worse, and maybe I'll stop sneezing when I come home, so there is today's silver lining.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm done with this game today, too many stray balls I didn't see coming have me more exhausted than the pop flies and fouls I actually got to swing at, so I'm going to take a long hot shower, use the yummy body butter before curling up in some fresh PJs with a cup of hot tea, and let this day ooze off of me before I attempt a good night's sleep. If you want to play with me, work this quizzical dilemma over a bit: if one decides to be single, to spend time alone to decide what they want/like/need from life/love/work/home but they find ways to constantly put themselves in situations that require dating skills (like, say, moving across the country and being nice to everyone they meet because, say, everyone has "gotta guy" who might put sugar in your gas tank for not saying Excuse Me when passing in the grocery isle or whatever), and those in the know often toss out "you should be in the service industry, you are great with people!" and "why aren't you in sales, you are a natural!" and "your job should be helping people somehow, someway, because you just brighten my day so effortlessly, you could be a life changer for those in need just by being you!!"... if all the attention is there, just from severely inappropriate sources, and one thrives on it as if it were oxygen itself... should one find a woman's campus to hibernate in until the wounds heal over and the spine grows in, or stop with the pussy footing around and get on some dating sites and plan on never having dinner alone again? Just a little 'what if' to work over amongst yourselves, I'll check in after I decide if sleeping pills should make it onto the shopping list.

Exhausted

Ok, uh, who was that chick on the last post?

Me?? Geez, how long ago was THAT?

Friday??

huh.

It's absolutely astounding what Flo will do to a woman.
Let's hope all this bs can be blamed on that bitch. I'll check back in a few days, let's see if that Friday perky happy about everything when there isn't even sunshine but it doesn't matter cuz she'll shit you a rainbow chick makes a trip back around.

I can say this - growing a spine hurts. Getting it kicked in while it's still fresh, by people who didn't know it wasn't there before and have no idea how crippling their little blows can be because they can't stop talking about themselves to see the crushing effect they have on the person standing right in front of them??? Well, I think that hurts worse. I'm told by those who know me that being a doormat isn't the best thing, but getting up from being a doormat ain't for the weak of heart. And, I am, weak of heart. So, there we have it.

ttys, let's find something to be happy about instead of thinking of getting in the car to go to work and never showing up and never getting back home and living somewhere in those middle states where no one will find me...

OK, ok, ok, ok, are you ready?

The whole event took less than 5 minutes, though I'm so excited about it I could write enough to have you reading it for longer than that, but as I'm too kind, I'm going to cut to the chase.

I had Little Trainer Boy take my measurements last night. We haven't done this since the first or second week of January. I was impressed at the first one, that my weight was on the higher side of my range, that my inches were what they were, that women's sizes are so deceiving when compared to actual measurements.
While he was super impressed at my first measurement, the neck, going down by half an inch (for which I had to razz him incessantly because he just went to his girlfriend's sorority formal and had to actually know his neck size for the shirt he had to wear, and I never even have a top button if I do wear a button up), I was more impressed that every other body part had also gone down by at least half an inch at the muscular parts (bicep, calf) and an inch to an inch and a half at the fatty bits.
RIGHT. So, even with the brownie platter and the intermittent gym attendance and irregular workouts with Little Trainer Boy and his death by hamstring curl, I'm seeing in plain blue ink that 11lbs can make a big difference.
So, with the office of girls committed to pulling out their Weight Watchers materials and adhering to those guidelines starting Monday, I'm ready to see what a more dedicated attitude can do for this fitness thing.
Lets face it, when you've got muscular legs, and you can see your bicep flex when you brush your hair in the morning, and the weather warms up, it's a lot easier to want to get rid of the Jello covered parts and get into some shorts and a tank top and see if Little Trainer Boy will actually jump on you like a bonobo monkey the way he says he does when he sees toned legs, because, damn, that would be worth the pain!!!
To add to the fun of the day, I have to admit I'm so thrilled to find out that while the company has a closed-toed-shoe policy, my manager understands that we have no contact with the public and therefore lets us get pretty casual with our business casual attire, and with the temps in the 70s for the 3rd day in a row, I am more than excited to find out that my 10 pair of open toed sandals will get to become part of my work wear wardrobe again!! Oh, with the slip on sandals and the skirts and the cap sleeved tops, the hair is getting cut again soon and the tan is starting to take, add to it a couple inches dropped without really trying and the motivation that breeds, and this Garden State is about to see a whole new side of this Cali Girl!!

Gotta Love It

Here I was, all ready to post that I was having a good day, that the AH-HAH was more like when you notice the fog has cleared than a lightning bolt, I'm feeling refreshed and pleasantly exhausted by the experience but on the whole very proud of myself, and in 20 minutes I'm a mess again.
Not a 10 car pileup like last week, not a garage fire like this week, just the kind that Merry Maids could take care of for $300, but still. What the hell does it take to get a little stability around here? And why is it that Alpha Dog gets in a shit mood and I'm the one cowering in a corner about it?? I leave the room and I don't respond to the curses to the sky and I don't feed into the monster, but honestly, is it that hard to keep your life in your own cube??
So, I'm sitting here in the muck she left, and it's compounded by my willingness to help her get something done for Boss ASAP, only to find when I come back from running all over the next door office for her that she is on the phone with every place that has her old credit card on file and yelling that Boss was making her nuts - then everything I did to help she had to go and redo, on speaker, so I could hear everyone I'd just talked to face-to-face saying exactly what they told me and I told her. One more email from Boss and she was so fed up she had to leave the office for a while.
Well, at least I know that clean sheets make the day start well. That's something. Maybe I'll get a chance to soak up some sunshine on a lunch break of my own, but with the rant about how all lunches must be taken by 2pm on the week I've been leaving at 3:30pm, well, I just can't wait for that melodrama to unfold!

Ballhair

I thought taking the day off would clear my head and make it all easier because of my new found peace... turns out, you need to stay firmly entrenched in your version of the BS or else it will eat you alive when you get back into it.
It's like quicksand, it's futile to fight, so you just sit and be quiet and let it suck you in.
Plus, I didn't get the cathartic WOW I was expecting. Still waiting, trying to let the thoughts pass through my head with barely a notice, hoping one will plant itself right in front of me and demand that this is the one to pay attention to, act on, build the next steps of my life with.
Until then... avoiding the cookie platter and enjoying whatever smiles I get, even if it is a one liner from a taken 20 year old...

Wholly Heart Attack Batman!

As a public service, I present to you a list of possible ways to perform routine checks of your adrenal system. These can be used to help you get over the 2nd day hangover from not getting any sleep mid week, perk up mid afternoon, as a way to help you quit caffeine cold turkey, or just to test your deodorant application today.
As the creator of this list, and at the tail end of it's tests myself, I'd recommend not attempting them all in the same day. I am setting goals for 30 years old, not quite there yet, have lived a healthy lifestyle with no illegal drug addictions or favorite barista at the coffee house even, and I fear I may need hospitalization before sun up tomorrow because of my extensive testing of this list. I do feel I need to offer my findings to you, in case you need to check your heart health.

-- Realize that if you have 2 alarms set, only the first one goes off, the second one blinks instead of beeps. Do so as you thank Daylight Savings Time for having the sun up when you need to be up, and that article you read saying you should drink more water as you waddle/hobble/race to the bathroom to start the shower and decide which morning steps can be done during the commute.
-- Do half your morning routine in the car while driving roads with stoplights, side streets, and school buses who stop for train tracks. For added appeal, be sure to ram something in your eye as you slam on the brakes. If not applicable, try to catch your drink as it catapults from your cup holder. If you can do both at the same slam-on-the-brakes stop of the block, you will get the added shot of go-go juice from the shock of pain to your eye and hand. Not for those with heart disease in the family.
-- Have a cop jut out behind you, follow you for the 2 blocks after you've passed a semi in that 102 feet before it actually becomes 2 lanes. Maximum effect achieved when his lights go on. If/when he passes you, do not expect your heart rate to normalize, this method will keep your cheeks flushed for a good 5 miles.
-- Try to run over your boss as they walk across the parking lot as you drive in 8 minutes late, then divert course so they don't see it's you driving in. Previous tardiness has proven that even if she beats you into the building, sometimes you can make it look like you got there first- another heart racing experiment, I suggest not doubling them up if at all possible. If unavoidable, be sure to mention that you saw them walking in, offer to do their coffee run for them so they can get right to work.
-- Watch the office lay off dozens of people in 3 days. Notice that every time you get asked for something you are eating, drinking, in the bathroom, or checking emails. Then get a meeting request for 3:30pm, knowing the boss leaves at 4pm. The email at 3:15pm could be hard to arrange, but it will add a kick to your afternoon only a white line can compare to.
-- Be told no supplies are needed for this meeting, but to close the door behind you.
-- Watch the boss explain this and that aspect of the business, it's longevity, mastermind projects from the upper levels of management that has to be carried out one way or another, and sleepless nights over what she has to do with her directives. Give this a good 15 minutes, you will feel your chest and face and ears and scalp tingle with all the extra blood flow as you try to politely stare and bite your tongue so as not to ask to just get it out already.
-- Straight up ask if you are being told to pack your desk to move to another office location or out of the company all together. Be sure the person on the other side of the desk pauses after being asked any question, let alone one that requires an answer with meaning and/or tact, this will inspire actual chest pains, letting you know that not only is your heart working at full capacity, your pecs have had to step in to help.
-- Leave the office with a boatload of information you have nothing to do with, don't know if you can share, and are fairly positive is way above your rank on the totem pole. Mentally run over if you actually were told anything of use to you. Ruminate on if you gave any information that was actually taken in context. Realize you were talked over every time you opened your mouth. This will cause you to loose feeling in your extremities, your peripheral vision to disappear, and the ability to communicate will be not so momentarily incapacitated. Do Not attempt to move while this happens. If you do, blame the ripple in the industrial carpet for your trip. Find a safe secluded place, like your cubicle, and ride the wave.
-- Have the flash of a memory of "this all has to be decided by Tuesday" just as your breath starts to return to normal. Realize that you told her you understood head count cuts need to happen, and that you don't work as well without a team to support - basically negating her ability to move you around the company, or into a roll like you used to have, opening up 30 other offices to work out of. This test is especially effective if you check your emails and find 12 ads for possible places to live have been forwarded to you, 4 of which are in towns your company has offices in.
At this point, I must stress, don't fight the hyperventilation. Especially if you must continue working. It will be much easier to work when you get your metacarpal, visual, and auditory functions working again.
-- Have a coworker invite themselves to your couch for a make-out session. Be sure you are in the company of people who would have no reason to know if it is a joke or not. Works best if you work with them every day. You will know if this is a good heart attack moment if there is dead silence in the room.
-- Get hungry, have no food with you, have a Snapple. Forget there is caffeine in it even if it's diet. This will feel like you have ingested actual hard core drugs. The headache is normal, don't try to satiate it with water, this adds to the dizziness. Find crackers ASAP, before the spins set in. Office chairs are not meant to catch you when you try to stand up in this state, I implore you to find a way to avoid falling back into your seat, as this can leave a nasty bruise in a number of places as you fall into every binder, staple remover, cord, and edge of the table behind your insufficient seat.

It will, if you've done it right, feel like you've partaken in a college experiment to determine if blood letting is a significant and worthy medical technique. Also, I suggest being inappropriately lightly dressed for practicing any (or all, as the case may be) of these heart rate spike tests, as it is a little intriguing to see someone in a scoop neck flushed, not so much with a turtleneck sweater.

This has been a test of the Sassy Emergency Response System. You'll be glad to hear I have made it through this series of tests and have planned a night of rented movies and perhaps a few shots of tequila as a reward for enduring such mild shocks throughout the day. I am still a bit flushed, and kinda hungry, and my chest is sore from the workout, but I assure you, any of these are guaranteed to rewarm chilled fingers, fight back the pins and needles of sleeping limbs, and test your fortitude for standing upright at any given moment.
Now back to your regularly scheduled moody rant...

Just When You Get Comfortable...

I knew it.
I fucking knew it.
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

Well, at least my chin is breaking out, letting me think maybe I can blame some of this on PMS.

The fun broke today. At 3:30pm.
I'd been merrily going along in my someone sedated but none the less moderately happy demeanored way, very proud of myself in so many areas of my recent behavior, and I came back from a lovely loner lunch with my book and my salad in the window seat at the local eatery and stood for that extra moment to soak up the sunshine before getting back to the office where I found the email that got me wondering who exactly the boss had been demoting and/or cutting all day and how far this recession is really going to go in affecting my daily life.
I guess it's not all that serious, but when all I do is approve stuff and my boss wants to see everything before I approve it, well, I know she won't do what I do, but I'm kinda not seeing that my job will seem all that important when she can whip out her red pen and toss back a stack of papers.
The cross training has begun, and that we have people in our small (but double the size of this time last year) team planning to be out for maternity leave within the year, and I do have some stuff to do on the other days of the month (though my coworkers haven't been able to wait for me to get to work to do some of it lately).
Anyway, that on top of roomie searches on top of single apartment searches on top of coming home for dinner to find I can't even approach the kitchen to going upstairs to find someone had just finished a shower in my bathroom to a little moment of taking deep breaths to wait for the impluse to chug alcohol or chow pie to pass... so, all this stuff has been pretty latent lately, and just when I think I'm getting back in control of my emotions and remembering a healthy perspective on this shit, Trainer Boy responds to my text of "ok, I saw you every other day, so now the prospect of not seeing you for 10 days has me bursting with questions to ask you" with "you got me at such a good time, I'm so horny right now..."
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.
I have been awsome at turning down the food addiction, I don't even have alcohol in the house and haven't for weeks now (I must go out in public and with people to drink, much different!) , and the gym thing is becoming more of a choice than a chore, and I'm so proud of myself every time I notice that I don't do something because someone else wants me to and for voicing my actual opinion and for taking care of myself and being upbeat and NOT CRYING so much lately, and on the afternoon that has me meditating through the tears I get an offer of hottie sex with a totally inappropriate guy - one of the other vices I haven't been so good at controlling.
Yada yada, an hour later with the texting back and forth he is getting tired and since I didn't have a drink tonight I'm clear headed enough to know these impulses pass.
Don't worry, I didn't miss out, he's totally hooked on me, and probably every other chick he tells to stick their chest out and watches their ass do squats, he just needs to turn 21 so we can get drunk and screw.
Did you see that???? I got propositioned by a super hottie but have been so good at being a good girl that I turned down the opportunity to royally fuck up our flirty friendly and TOTALLY WORKING FOR ME trainer/trainee relationship, then had to slip in the "but he'd have said that to anyone who texted him at 9:30pm".
Stupid hormones. No amount of walking a treadmill or bench presses will combat the NUCKING FUTS in my head.
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.
And, now I'm horny. fuckityfucken kid didn't even send the pic I've seen and been begging for since Thursday. Remember Sexy, that gym rat I screwed all over the county?? Yeah, he looks like that, but with brown eyes, and a bit more smarts behind them.
aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh IIIIIIIII really don't like this phase of no control, the part where I start to take control and it blows up in my fucking face.
Plus, now I resent my boss for screwing with my day - I don't even approve anything for another 2 weeks, why did she have to throw that out today???
I'm hungry and horny and I didn't get my workout and I can't decide where or how I want to live and I don't think I'm dating coworker all week and no one gets my witty comments in email or text anymore and this is the kinda of state that gets me doing really stupid things, or in bed for a month.
fuck.fuck.fuck.
fuck.

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Alright, from the two posts from yesterday morning, I can see I'm a bit off my rocker.

Though the details are fascinating, absolutely mind blowingly off the charts even for me - not all bad, not all good, just way off the fucking map - I mean, how many rants about bad roomies and stupid chicks and flirting with inappropriate boys and driving around New Jersey can you hear before you completely disown me?

I'll tell ya, I'm not in the mood to test that limit today. Not in that weepy woah is me pass me a tissue and stop pouring the Merlot kinda way, don't get me wrong, I'm feeling pretty ok, which is completely unexpected considering how I typically go over and over this kind of feeding frenzy of existential crisis like I actually live on dramatic fits alone. Nope, this time I'm ready to admit that I've hit MY limit of the bullshit, that I've apparently maxed out my frustration with these lovely blows to the ego and the happy spirit, that I've become comfortable in my supposed misery.
While I can't quite decide if this is the mature or simply instinctual reaction, I've resigned to just be.
PMS is next week, the breakouts have already started, we'll see how long this lasts, but that I'm here NOT talking about any of it says libraries about how I've just accepted it.
And knowing that a particular state of hell must be reached for the calm to set in scares the shit out of me, but knowing that I'm not comfortable unless the comfort zone is in hell is a recent revelation I didn't think I wanted to prove, that apparently I have.

I will say this though, I'm making some moves these days, I'm standing up for myself a little more, I'm choosing my battles instead of excusing my defeats afterward, and I'm proud to not have the 'what if' reel playing in my head, no matter how the outcomes may fall.

What I have to add to all this is what made me realize I've gone batshit crazy - the cackling, aching, gasping for air hysterics that has me now yawning because my brain was without oxygen for THAT long... a sentance from a post, again from the blogroll I forbid you to scroll through, but one I visit for giggles now and again: If you were to dip a Dr. Seuss book in acid and then lick it from cover to cover, this might be what you'd sketch.
aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhahaahahahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahaha ::GASP:: ::Tom Hanks' 'Money Pit' laugh:: ::Steve Martin's 'The Jerk' laugh:: ::tear, one, from each eye, and some drool::

I'm off to enjoy a bed of perfectly puffed pillows to lay my not so puffy face on (Go. Me. with the turning down of potato chips and not adding a chocolate bar to the end of the leftover mu shu pork dinner).

Two Posts, One Morning!!!

OK, so I'd logged on to check the weather, had to pour a little soul out before the shower and coffee (because I couldn't get into my shower or brush my teeth for the coffee, which they drank the whole 10 cups I left for them but not even a warmer of sludge left for me 20 minutes later - they only make 3 cups at a time, how did they do that??), so I decided to check up on my blogroll.

It needs help, don't go there, I'm on it as soon as I get an actual chair to sit in to do it (the milk crate puts my legs to sleep).

One in particular has me completely hooked, like a soap opera wrapped in prime time drama dipped in coke and topped with warm triple chocolate brownies.
So, I'm reading from the bottom up because I just have a whole thing with it now and refuse to let the office environment cramp my enjoyment of sporadic tear droppage and can't get to the home computer every night for fear of forgetting what the actual world looks like, and at the top I see a button, that's a link, that talks about another page. You can immediately see why I HAD to click on it:
(OK, she posted the button link but it's telling me the "tag is not closed" and I don't know how to fix that, so just go here and scroll to the Mickey)

Now, it's been a while since I've been all up in the Blogger World, but before I knew it I was 3 pages over and realizing that if I didn't stop reading my eyes would surely swell shut, and seeings that I have plans that involve driving today, that really would be a problem.

So here's the deal - I knew how to get around Disneyland before I knew how to read a clock. My mom used to sign my school absence notes like this: "Miss Sassy had a very important appointment at my establishment, could not reschedule, had to miss the whole day. Sincerest Apologies, Mickey Mouse." If I could have stolen my school records just for this, I promise I'd buy a scanner to post it to prove it. My parents went to Disneyland for their honeymoon. My cousins loved the idea so much, they did the same - a few of the cousins actually. I made it my pilgramage every year for 10 years starting with my high school grad trip. I tell everyone they MUST experience it, especially if they never went as a kid, it's better as an adult anyway, you can eat as many ice cream sundaes as you can afford and you don't have to take potty breaks from the Jungle Cruise line.
Add to it that Mom died of cancer 6 weeks after diagnosis and this woman has just heard she is a THREEPEAT.
Apparently this time it's worse.
This I can't wrap my head around.
I watched the first set of pills turn my mom from someone with a headache and blurred vision into a water retaining puff of mentally incapacitated weakling barely able to lift a full cup of coffee (we quit buying gallons of milk, couldn't get the half gallon in a carton, had to be the plastic with the handle).
This woman wants to go to DISNEYLAND.
I don't have the energy to think about Disneyland some days.
She is being eaten alive by her own body and this is her wish?

I'm not pulling the Mom card. Really, I resent everyone who carries that kind of baggage like a satchel that motivates every favor they need.
I'm really not asking you to donate because I know you who email me on the side that you've read my posts that I should have buttons for YOU..
I wanted to point out that I might be posting more often because I've found more humanity in the last 12 minutes of blogrolling than I have in the last 4 months of living in this house, working at this job, or existing in my insulated life.
I was deeply touched by this stranger with an alias, and I feel more alive in these tear stained cheeks that I thought I was capable of.

In case you are so inclined, my lurkers, I liked this button too - they reached the $3000 goal in the 3 days between first post and when I read it, so this family can have a dream vacation with their maybe fatally diagnosed mom, but the way no one would tell me anything about the billing of even 6 weeks of cancer, well, you know the insurance company isn't helping her anymore and she will need some new comfy sweats to fight this in:

I'd love to stay and chat, but it's supposed to get up to 60 degrees today and I'm looking forward to appreciating the wind in my hair a little more emphatically today.
Word of the Day: ohgofuckyourselfhonesttearsarefantasticandI'llhaveasmanyasIwant, or, ifyouwantsomegogetthemthelinksarerightherebutbewareofactualprimalinstinctdrivenempathy.

Moven On Up

I posted on a roomie website a few weeks back, thinking the worst that could happen is I could appreciate my current situation more. So what if it's 40 minutes to work from 3 towns over?? At least it's not putting 40 miles on my car!! I live so far from everything it's a chore to get gas??? Who cares, you don't need a house key because we never lock the door this neighborhood is so safe!! Housemates so inconsiderate they beat furniture into the walls and play basketball in the house??? Well, it forces you to get out of the house more often!!!
OK, so I'm done convincing myself that I should stay here.
There is a lot of my Jersey life here - gym, luncheonette, finally found a grocery store I like, the coffee at the one spot is what I wake up for on Saturday's... alas, I'm going to meet one of the roomie website people this weekend, because she and I finally connected last night and spent 3 hours on the phone, then she invited me to spend basically the whole weekend with her, and is forwarding me apartment postings that are absolutely flooring me with how divine they are - and CHEEEEEEEP!
Now, all the rest of it comes into play, the drive, the gym, the reestablishing a life, but, I've moved like a bazillion times now, and when I woke up this morning, at 7am (when I should wake up for work but can't manage it til 7:45am) and check my phone to find a voicemail, not just a text, from the roomie (we ONLY chat through text, and that's IF it's significant enough to warrent telling me - parties of 15 that start at 9pm don't count) who asks at midnight Friday if his 'guest' who will be staying in the kids room he's been cleaning for a solid week and just found the carpet of can use my shower all weekend.
OK, I think, how hard can it be to not be on this person's schedule?? I know he didn't come home til late last night, I'm up early even for me... what is that noise??? Oh, you mean I woke up to someone already in my bathroom and she is finally in the shower?? Alrighty, I'm done, thanks but no thanks, I'm going to find a place that doesn't make a trip to the city an all day affair, a roomie that won't eat all my eggs just in time for me to want to make an omlette, and anywhere where I get enough respect to at least be able to piss in my own pot in the morning.
I might freak out, but I think all the building up of my stockpile of goods here was a great reason to have stayed, and now that I've knowingly kept my stupid phone past the 30 day return period and given up the idea of blowing my wad on an iPhone (because the money channel says they are out of stock for a reason and their new product is coming out a quarter early!!!!), well, it's all pointing to this Jersey Girl moven right on up, and to the east side (right next to the Holland Tunnel, if your mapper is so inclined, mine wouldn't let me link it for you) of this Garden State, to try to find the creature comforts of home, like sleep.

Bad Girl

Being naughty just feels good, doesn't it?
Even being home and leaving my shoes on is such a change from the usual, it feels like I'm being bad, and somehow that is exactly what I need today.
It's been alllllllllll day now.
Got to work late with no excuses.
Took off the sweater to reveal the too-sheer-for-no-cami-that-is-what-the-sweater-was-for shirt.
Remembered, then promptly forgot, to do some of my first of the month things (why some of my Outlook task list has the reminders working and others don't is beyond me, but whatever).
Have been using pet names with absolutely everybody. Everybody. Like my boss. And the checkout kid at the convenience store.
I rekindled the thrill of a lone quickie in the restroom today, THAT is how naughty I've been!!!

OK, so some of it has to do with the temptation of maybe having a guy to be interested in hanging over my head all last week and then sitting here in limbo as he decides to call or not. Part of it might be the afternoon of flirting with a friend I have written off quite a number of times now, making the "oh, you're doing yardwork, I'd love to get dirty with you, do you think the neighbors would notice?" so much more indulgent because he is on my Bad Boy list as it is. Perhaps this is the other way to spend energy when I'm not at the gym - much better than moping, though just as much of a waste of time and mental energy.

Even the delight of a sushi dinner with Co-Worker With a Crush is adding to the sinful heaven of the day. To feel full, to know the sauces are laiden with fats and sugars, to have it be a surprise invite and a great uninterupted conversation... well, she is kinda on my Bad Girl list too, and I don't say that just because she smacked her ass as she walked away then looked over her shoulder and winked at me as she made sure I saw that.

Loving this time of elevated mood, no matter what brought it on. Adoring that I have about 20545 things that could make me upset right now, and two weeks ago they did, but today I just can't muster the energy to let this shit bother me.
Just watch - I'm growing a spine, I'm becoming comfortable as ME, with ME, for ME, by ME... if history repeats, he's lurking around the corner. And he is going to ruin me. Please please let's make this go around let me keep ME in the picture.

Weekends Rule

I meant to convey the absolute brilliance of this weekend before having to tell the story 4947902342780 times, but, I will say that sleep does not a weekend make, I love to flirt, and I might be talking a lot more about the bar scene in upcoming posts. Let's hope I can either manage this week on 5 hours of sleep at a time and reset next weekend, or find a way to work out at 2am when I actually feel like being active. Oh lordy, I'd love to be active at 2am these days, but if the pool of men is exemplified by the super nice and mentally competant but utterly moveless beau contestant of Saturday's outing, well, the 2am workouts won't be the Bedspread Olympics I hope for. For now, maybe 2am will just be post nap bed time.