What Cracklin' Oat Bran?

Yes, I've been away. Lucky for me I got to see Preggers yesterday and she's inspired me to continue writing. I'd apologize to you all for having to read my words that I think lack, shall I say, pizzaz? But you're reading it of your own free will, so that's your own issue.

I've been contemplating my career a bit lately. One of my least favorite coworkers came to my desk recently and told me that I look so at home here. That I have "administrative assistant" written all over me, and she can see me doing this forever. Why would she say this? I know she means well, but how often is a conversation like that positively received? I'm 26 for God's sake! Of COURSE this isn't my long term job! It's great while I pay off my school bills, but . . . I digress. One of my very favorite coworkers, Boobalicious, and I have wonderful talks, and she always presents me with calming words of wisdom. Or tells me to fuck it all, which is also helpful at times. But this time she reminded me that just because I'm good at this (meeting planning, call scheduling, database management, boring blah, blah boring), doesn't mean that I won't be fabulous at something else. Something more rewarding. Something to make me truly proud. And I have plenty of time to find it. *Long sigh* Thank God for Boobalicious.

Looking to move soon! Jack is putting an offer in to rent-to-own (sort-of) his current dream condo, which has an extra bedroom AND bathroom for moi. I'll miss Staci and the short walk to the metro, but it'll be nice not to live in a frat house. A lot of things will be nice about that situation. The money won't, though. That'll be much more expensive, but totally worth it.

Upcoming money-suckers I look forward to enjoying:
-Late January / early February trip to see Geno-beano for a post-Christmas Christmas
-New tires
-Early Summer or early Fall cruise to Alaska for Grandma's 80th birthday
-Next Christmas in Italy? D & J may be there on sabbatical. That'd be sweeeeeet.

I'll post again soon to recap the joyous Christmas holiday.

surprisingly pleasant evening

Last night I saw one of my favorite bands to see live. They’re from Dewey Beach, and they’re called Love Seed Mamma Jump. Last night they played at the Clarendon Grille, great bar. I was standing up front the whole time, dancing my little heart out. (My legs hurt SO badly today!) Definitely check them out, if you can. They play in Arlington, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Delaware, Dewey, and I think a few other places.

After running into a neighbor (not the ex, thank God), my friends and I suddenly found ourselves surrounded by the neighbor and his coworkers (all guys), who happened to be flirting a little – all slightly cute, really funny, smart, nice guys. Neighbor boy was not flirting, thank goodness. The last thing I need is another one of those. So basically, we’re all getting good man attention. Excellent surprise.

We’re all dancing, and of course I’m in front ogling the band. Then this guy comes and stands right in front of me, dancing like crazy, totally blocking my view. He was clearly enjoying the band. (I realize that I’m switching between past and present tense, but it works for my writing, so you just have to deal with it.) I was slightly miffed that he cut in front of me like that, but he was trying to get the crowd more excited. Then a girlfriend bet me a dollar to grab his ass. So easy. Typical dollar bet. Needless to say, I went home with an extra dollar in my pocket last night. The guy turned around and couldn’t figure out who had done it, so he danced a while longer, then went back with his friends. I never saw his face b/c I avoided eye contact when he turned around.

About 20 or 30 minutes later, he taps me on the shoulder and says he was told that I’m the girl who grabbed him. (Apparently he had some nark friend behind us.) I claimed I didn’t know what he was talking about, but I didn’t make it difficult for him to see through my ruse. He apologized for cutting in front of me, but said he totally loves the band. Me, too! So we sang along and danced together for the rest of the night, and he got my phone number. He was pretty cute. Very preppy, but cute. Big blue eyes and dimples. Yum.

I didn’t look at my watch until the band’s third set was over. 1:15am. Yikes! I can barely stay awake until 11 these days!!! Then we went to IHOP for some delicious biscuits and gravy, which were perfect. So I didn’t get home until 2:15. And now I am paying for my night. The fatigue just hit me, my legs are killing me, and my throat hurts from all the singing and yelling. Excellent night, though.

So tonight Staci and I are going to hear some guy play at a bar in Chinatown. Sunday will be bocce ball, then we’re seeing another guy play/sing that night, after West Wing, of course.

no rebounding for me

1. Feeling bitter toward the ex. I need to date and think of others. All I said when we broke up was that he didn't do anything wrong, but all I feel now is that he led me on, got my hopes up, and dropped me. Bastard. (Clearly, not on purpose, but I must call him a bastard for the time being nonetheless.) I spoke to him for five minutes this weekend. Generic chit-chat that left me feeling like crap. Why did we even date? We have nothing in common and he wears stupid hats.

2. Met a hottie Boston cop this weekend. There I was, buzzing, ready for a little rebound action. He wanted the same. I was flirting, arm-touching, doing my thing. Unfortunately, his version of flirting is educating me on immoral cop violence, discussing his republican preferences, and using the word faggot. There goes my rebound action. Damn.

3. Stepmom J met a woman at a party in Ohio who has a son in the area, and they set us up. I met the guy on Friday, and he has since left for Iraq for two months. Ah, my impeccable timing. Honestly, there wasn't a strong connection there, but he was tall, handsome, smart, nice, and he sings really hard with whatever band is playing, so there's potential. And if I find myself continually disappointed by my dating options, at least I have a date to look forward to in a couple of months. That's something.

4. My ipod came via FedEx today - hurrah! Of course, all my music is on my pc at home, so I have to wait in agony all day, but who cares? It's here! I am SO driving around listening to it from now on. Gas prices schmas prices.

5. My coworker came to my party this weekend (where both hot Boston cop and the ex were present - good times), and so as not to come empty handed, she brought me a lovely Indian jewelry box. What a doll she is! THESE are the little acts of kindness I should be focusing on - not jealousy of the ex's car. Priorities, Duchess. Priorities.

Nice Ad

There is a FABulous ad in many papers today. I'd send you a link to the article that discusses it, but the washingtonpost online sucks more than my hoover. I found the ad in the post and wow, is it dramatic. Love it.

Wait! You can read about it here and you can see it here. I recommend zooming in.

Chris Sheehan and the Gold Star Families for Peace put it in the papers and on TV. Wow.

How much do I love the fam?

So much. I was having a really shitty night. Unproductive work day, generally feeling lazy. I distracted myself with cooking and cleaning for a good three hours. Then an hour of TV. It wasn't until I was in my car, on my way to the store that I lost it. Any particular reason? No. But since the ex lives negative 7 feet from my home (and of course my parking space), my distraught mind easily went there.

Moving on, one sobbing shopping spree and one cigarette later, then ex pulls in. Of COURSE he doesn't notice me or say hello. Rude? No. He's simply distracted and has little, if any desire to focus on me whatsoever. How flattering.

So my phone rings. I figure it's Jack, since I called him 27 times this evening hoping for a smoking buddy. (He's a sympathy smoker.) But no, it's home. J and I had a nice long talk about recent goings on, and it was a great pick-me-up. Plus I think she's setting me up with some nice dude. Even if it's weird, at least it's a different dude.

Anyway, love the fam for the distraction and perspective. Always good. I wish I could spend more time with them.

Time to play the guitar

Sometimes you just need to play the guitar. Anyone? I have yet to learn how, so that's a bit of an obstacle, but not insurmountable by any means. Last weekend with the fam was a major inspiration, and I simply must learn.

My grandparents also blew me away. Who works that hard? And that long? All day - they're up at six am and in bed by 10 - they're active alllllll day. Cooking, cleaning, reading, organizing, crafting, building, fixing, golfing, visiting, praying, singing, always moving. How do they do it? I woke up at 10:30 today, went to the shop to have my oil changed, went to the bank, came home to some leftover lasagna, and now I'm pooped! And it's not even one yet!

I'm trying to talk myself into making some bread, but I may end up spending the afternoon watching a movie. *sigh*

Racism?!?

Holy crap. I came across this site today, and I'm infuriated. (I couldn't help but comment as "Midwesterner.") And from reading these comments, I looked at this site. Also infuriating. I didn't read the whole site (I do work some of the time, folks), but the racist comments on the first site and the anti-semitic views on the second site almost had me in tears. How can these views still exist?! I am so very disappointed in our society sometimes. This makes me want to have 14 children so I can simply ensure the continuance of civil rights in our country with their votes. This should not be necessary! AAAAGHGHGHGH!

My insightful girls

I've got girls all over. The Indigo Girls are currently soothing me in itunes. Love 'em. And of course I've got the girlfriends. I can't express how wonderful they've been to me. My savior at work has been Latiberry, the sweetest, wisest woman ever. And SO fun-loving. I can't get over her - she's just the best. My savior over email has been Riss. Now, I don't know where all of her wisdom came from, considering she's . . . 22? Good Lord. But the girl is amazing, and says all the right things. Both women are social workers, go figure. Anyway, they've made me think such good, strong, and smart things. Not to mention my kind, supportive roommate, my sweet and always loving Queen B, my every-present, phenomenal Jack M., my tender mother, and countless others. I am blessed.

As you can see from my last entry, I've been having a rough patch. More like a rough sea, it feels. Regardless, these wonderful women (ok, and men) in my life have been so dear. They give me perspective. And do I need it! (Is the pope Catholic? Does a one-legged duck swim in a circle?)

Thanks, all. I swear I'm getting better.

Warning: not an entertaining entry!

If you happen to be reading this blog for fun, I’d recommend skipping this particular entry. It’s all self-pity and introspection. This is essentially my diary, as I am too lazy to write by hand, so this is where the shit feelings go. I have all of these thoughts swimming around in my head and I have to get them out somehow.

I'm obsessing over this break-up. I haven't talked to the ex in quite a while, and at first I thought that was good - give me time to get over things. But the more I don't talk to him, the more elusive he seems, and that drives me crazy. I know he's staying away from me to give me the time and space I need. But I'll catch a fleeting glimpse of him from time to time out the window, and I see his car every bloody morning when I leave the house. There's just no escaping it.

My thoughts and feelings about the relationship have changed. First of all, I don't think I miss him. Yeah, I miss knowing how he is, having someone there, sex, etc. But I don't think I miss HIM. However, I'm just as upset as ever, and I think I know why:

1. Rejection. Nobody likes it, I feel it, and that sucks.

2. He was really excited about me at first. It wasn't until he got to know me that he lost interest. And he's this great guy. So, we have this great guy who gets to know me and decides, "No thanks!" That hurts.

3. I don't like the way I handled myself in the relationship. I became insecure, needy, and clingy. I don't like being that way, so it made me feel worse about myself, and I regret acting that way. So even though I'm sure that this relationship wouldn't have worked out anyway, it kills me that I feel I screwed things up, and that he and I will both remember me as this clingy, insecure person. I hate that so much, and I'm having a really hard time dealing with it. I’ve never been that person until this relationship.

I went to Ohio last weekend to visit the family. Lovely visit, lovely drive home on Sunday evening. Then I walked onto my back porch to find a neighborhood cookout, and of course he was there. He opened the door for me twice while I carried things in, but didn't say one word. I know he's being careful so as not to upset me, but it felt weird. I marched straight up to my room and haven’t stopped crying since.

This sucks. I'm trying so hard, but this huge sadness keeps sneaking up on me. It catches me off guard, ruins my days, and makes me feel incredibly weak. And I don't think it's all about the ex. For some reason I keep comparing myself to him. God knows why. And that makes me feel horrible. He loves his job (mine is fine, but I have no career direction), he makes tons of money (me, not so much), he loves his friends (I don't have the close local friendships I used to), he's incredibly healthy and active, while I sit at home half the time feeling sorry for myself and thinking about the fun he's having NOT thinking about me. It's a terrible pattern. I'm not really excited about anything right now. And of course, I'd rather be content and even happy with myself and my life instead of having to distract myself all the time. I don't know if this is something I just have to deal with for a little while longer, or if I have to make some changes in my life. I'm just unhappy. Bottom line.

So. Wave your magic wand and fix this mess, please. I simply will not tolerate it any longer. I miss being in a relationship, but if I become one of those people who thinks she needs a man to make her happy, I swear I’ll join a convent.

Heeeeeeeere's Regression!

Not a good night. I came home Sunday night to find the ex on my back porch. All of the neighbors were having a cookout at our place. I played it cool. I was carrying a bunch of stuff, so he opened the door for me a couple of times, but didn't say a word. After I had all of my things in, I went straight to my room and bawled. I HATE regressing like this. I thought I was doing so well after that weekend at home. I wasn't even sad on the drive back. Damnit! So I've been in a funk ever since. Last night, today. I'm back to being sad. Can't stop crying. This sucks!

On a lighter note, my good friend Dude is coming this week to visit. She might be coming in tonight, I'm not sure. I definitely don't get to see her very often, so that'll be a nice distraction this week.

Aaarrrghghghghh! I shouldn't HAVE to have distractions anymore! I'm so pissed!

Rearranged my room!

It's lovely! I'm going to get rid of some things, I think. The room looks great, the moving around was cathartic, and my sweet buddies helped me. : )

Back to bed and the Red Tent. Read it? So far so good!

Mixed feelings

I feel like I should have better documented my post break-up phases so I can look back and get some perspective. Oh well. Maybe I'll go through some old emails and backtrack for documentation later. We broke up on July 7, so it's officially been over a month, and it still sucks ass. I really thought I could mentally conquer this. I figured, if I straightened things out in my head, I could control my feelings. Not the case.

Here's what my head has been doing lately. I still think about him quite a lot, but not constantly. More than anything else, though. I have several reactions to thoughts on him:

1. I miss him so much. I want to cry and sink into his arms. Let him rock me to sleep. God, I miss being held.
2. I wonder how he's doing. In a slightly platonic way, I'd like an update. How is work going? Are his friends all doing well? How is his family? What's new with him? It feels unnatural to not know the general goings on, since he's been such a big piece of my day to day life.
3. I just want to give him a big hug. We're both mourning the loss of our relationship (though it feels like I'm the only one who's mourning, since I have no clue how he's doing), so I naturally want to go through this WITH him. Obviously that can't happen. It's pretty f-ing hard.
4. I want to punch him in the gut for hurting me. Sometimes I'm really mad at him.
5. Mostly, I want him to check in and see how I'm doing. A phone call. An email. Something that shows that he cares and has concern. I know he cares, and I'm sure he's giving me space to deal with this on my own - smart - but it would be so nice to hear from him.

Best seats in the house, baby!

I, Duchess, am going to the Nationals game tonight. Sure, I've been to see them before. Always a good time. But have I gone when they're playing the Dodgers? No. And have gone with 6TH ROW TICKETS? No, no I have not.

But that's what I'm doing tonight! Hurrah! Thanks to the boss lady for thinking of me with those posh corporate comps!

Best. Show. Ever.

Six Feet Under is SO VERY AWESOME!!! Sorry to yell, but I just watched episode 60 on HBO on demand, and I'm psyched. Those writers, directors, and actors are freaking brilliant. I love it. Love it.

Whoa

I'm sad, but I'm not this sad, so I guess I should count myself lucky. I guess if I start having sex with teenage boys, then I'll know I'm in trouble.

Dave Brubeck is the best

How cool is he, really? Love him to death. And not just Take Five, either. His stuff is really fun.

I am making Queen B's sloppy joes, and they smell FABULOUS. They're so very delicious.

I am definitely not over the boyfriend. Shite. And not only is he clueless, but he's totally fine. What the smurf?

I need more adoration and everyday beautiful things. God is going to have to bring me adoring fans. In the mean time, I think I should spend more time at Eastern Market. Huzzah!

ps - I heart Jack M.

God Bless Mary

Mary the bartender, my new best friend.

Sidebar: I haven't felt like drinking lately. Figured I was just getting older, lost the taste for it. Apparently not.

Saw Wedding Crashers last night. Excellent flick. But the lovey dovey stuff made me sad. And the me who no longer cried about the ex suddenly started crying about the ex again.

Lesson 1: I'm not totally healed. It's not easy to get over this. My feelings were strong and true. This actually makes me happy.

Lesson 2: If you go up to the woman bartender with tears in your eyes and say, "I'd like a strong rum and coke, please," you will be drunk after just one. Mary is the bomb, and I had a semi-decent night. I also had a freakin' cheap tab (in Georgetown!) so Mary got a 150% tip. Love her.

Good news: I don't wake up wishing it weren't true anymore.

My (ex)boyfriend's back

Yeah, he's back early from his trip. Haven't "seen" him, but saw him out the window. I am strong, not going over, not thinking too hard about it. I'm listening to 100% funk and getting ready to go out with my friends.

Seeya!

~Sexy Beast

Summer movies

I gotta say, I'm impressed with the Summer line-up for movies this year. Haven't been in a while, but I am pleased.

Movies I've seen:
Batman Begins (loved it)
Star Wars Episode III (loved it)
Sidways (ok, maybe this was Spring, but I liked it)
I also saw the old Bad News Bears for the first time, too. I thought it would be a kid's movie! Not so much.

Movies I want to see:
Wedding Crashers (this weekend)
War of the Worlds (might suck)
Fantastic Four (might also suck)
Hotel Rwanda
Miller's Crossing (not so new)
Hero
The Dukes of Hazzard (might suck)
Sky High (Kurt Russell and that kid from Will & Grace, not out yet)
Rent (not out yet, but the original broadway cast! Yay!)
Producers (also not out yet)
Sunset Boulevard (the new one, to star Ewan McGregor and Glenn Close)

Movies I'm scared to see:
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - this looks totally creepy!
Aliens - I only saw the first, but peer pressure may get the best of me
Stepford Wives - it's got Glenn, Bette, Matthew, and Nicole. How can I not want to see it?

I'd join netflix, but my freakin dvd player isn't working. The madness!

Breaking up is hard to do

We broke up on Thursday, still saw each other on Friday and Saturday, but platonically. That was SO hard. Now he's gone for a week, thank God. Things are getting a little bit easier, but they're still not easy. Of course I've been thinking about this a lot, and I realized something. I'd been telling myself that I'm sad to miss the intimacy and disappointed that it didn't work out. Those things are true, but I think what it comes down to is that I'm sad because nobody likes the feeling that they're unwanted. He didn't want me. Bottom line. That's what hurts the most. And it hurts a lot.

I still wake up wishing it weren't true.

Well, it's done

It's done. We've broken up. I am sad. However, he was lovely about it. He let me talk, he answered my questions, he was patient, and he was kind. That made it . . . good. It was a good break-up. And I miss him already, but it'll be ok.

Riss just sent this to me. It, too, is lovely.

I'm lonely, but my friends and family are great. Mom sent me flowers today. Dad wants to be mean to him when they meet. Yeah, he still wants to meet my family. That's so nice. And it makes me feel good. Isn't this funny? I feel so sad, and yet I feel so good about why I feel sad. Hm. It's a shame it didn't work out because that would have been WONderful. But it is what it is. And it was nice there for a while.

Remember when . . .

Remember when I said this week was gonna suck? I think it was yesterday or the day before. Regardless, I may as well be a freaking prophet, because my boyfriend and I are breaking up today. Yep, apparently it's a day-long process because we started this morning and we're finishing at dinner. Doesn't that sound just so formal? I'm pretty damn upset over it, which (as you can imagine) is doing wonders for my make-up. Perfect for the workplace. Luckily my coworkers are lovely and supportive, so it's not monumentally embarassing.

I know I've seen this coming, and I know it's for the best, but it REEEEALLY sucks. It's nobody's fault and I can't turn my sorrow into anger because he's fantastic - didn't do anything wrong. I always say I'm going to stay friends with the exes. I hope I can this time. I really do.

Penis envy, here I come

Usually when I hear the term "penis envy," I scoff. Who would want one of those hanging around? Getting you in trouble, embarrassing start-ups, embarrassing lack of start-ups, having to compare size to others, easy target for painful contact - one kick to the groin and your down. I don't want to deal with all of that!

However, when I get to the little blue pills and I'm crying for no reason and doubled over with cramps, I think to myself, "A penis? Why not. Sign me up!"

This week is gonna suck.

SO feeling this right now

Women are like apples on trees. The best ones are at the top of the tree. Most men don't want to reach for the good ones because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt. Instead, they just take the rotten apples from the ground that aren't as good, but easy....... The apples at the top think something is wrong with them, when in reality, they're amazing. They just have to wait for the right man to come along, the one who's brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the tree.

Now Men.... Men are like a fine wine. They begin as grapes, and it's up to women to stomp the shit out of them until they turn into something acceptable to have dinner with.

Quarter-life crisis?

My coworkers are actually doll-faces most of the time. I am lucky to have a good job and a roof over my head. I am blessed with work. I have kind friends and a supportive family.

Then why, I ask, am I so frustrated? Let's talk about it. Job, good, but not my career. Who the hell knows when that will show up. Maybe I'll go to Hawaii to look for it. Friends, most of them are getting on my nerves. Thank God for Jack M, Rissy, and my Chicago crazy couple. Just thinking of them all makes me feel better. Family, they're great, but they're not here. And I wonder if they were here (or I were there) if I'd be any happier. And finally, boyfriend. Holy crap, that's a huge mess in my head. Do I love him? Do I need him? Do I want him? Is he good for me? Probably not, but I sure am feeling dependent. Way too dependent, if you ask me. I don't like it. Can't let go, though. Not yet. Effing mess.

Ew. This is not happiness. But did I not just finish the Kite Runner? Why should I be complaining when there are starving, abused children all over the world? I ain't got nothing on them. Do I just suck it up and smile? Be grateful? Or is that a lack of ambition? Is that fear? This relationship has made me weaker, less myself. Unhappy.

But I can't say that out loud. That would make it real. That would mean that I have to end it. When I have so much more I want to get out of it. Is this something I can get better at? I'm so worried about it I'm ending sentences with prepositions. Good God.

control freak

I officially have control issues. I stayed at work past nine tonight - not the first time - because I prefer to do the work myself rather than ask for help. I've been burned one too many times by dipshits who screw up my work, and so I prefer to do it myself. It's getting a little out of hand. I should have been playing kickball in the rain tonight!

Change of subject: I am obsessed with this. There are plenty of scary, gross pictures, and I can't tear myself away. It's the deep sea angler fish, and it lives in super-deep waters. I'm told that they have one at the Baltimore Aquarium, and now I'm chomping at the bit to go. Love it!

2nd THAT emotion?!

I think my dad just pissed me off for the first time since I was . . . 5? The rents split when I was 5 and I lived with my mom for most of the childhood. Since dad wasn't around punishing us all the time, it was easy for us to put him up on a pedestal. And we did. We all did. I've kept him there this whooooole time. He was super dad who took care of everything. Balancing act supreme, always working his ass off to make everybody happy.

So today he asks how things are going with Hotty McHotterton. Good, I say. Except there have been occasions where I cry and I can't help it. (Like the odd incident in his room with the other chickie.) Anyway, my mom used to be a cryer before she and dad split. And, uh, the prozac. So instead of giving me a supportive, "I'm sorry about that, honey. Anything I can do?" he gives me a, "don't keep that up. He'll get tired of it and stop being nice to you." Great, dad. That definitely helps. And makes me feel better. Do you know women at all? No. I think you would walk across fire for yours, and all others are considered less than and high maintenance. No more talking to dad about the love life. That made me feel like shit. Now I want a cigarette.

Of course, cigarettes make your birth control inactive. F*#k. Even better for the relationship: a baby. Thanks a lot, dad.

Washington Nationals aren't that bad!

Last night Jack M, Whip-it, Staci and I all went to a Washington Nationals game. Haven't been to a baseball game in a while, though Hottie McHotterton is taking me to another at the end of the month. At first I enjoyed the fun, laid-back atmosphere, a cold beer, and my over-priced hot dog and fries. All was well, despite the fact that after I mocked Staci for dripping mustard down her black shirt, I dripped catsup down my light pink one. Karma.

Then it happened. The seventh inning stretch. I stood up. The song played. I sang. I sang, and I meant it. And so did everybody else there. It was so sweet, so Americana, so sincere, and so easy. I wish people could get along this well over more troublesome affairs. *sigh*

Good game.

to the intern in my office

I don't like you. Please don't make comments about my boss being irresponsible for not giving you enough work. That won't make me like you any more. She works her ass off and doesn't have time for your whining. Frankly, your work is horrible, and neither of us are inclined to give you more since we will inevitably have to re-do it. Your rude comments about this woman I respect are not going to make me bond with you simply because we both work for her. You suck. Go away.

Travelocity can kiss it

It really shouldn't take a master's degree to book multi-city travel online. Should it? Apparently so, since that's what I've been doing for the last 4 hours and I still couldn't get the job done. I consider myself literate, educated, computer-savvy. But I suppose I'm not savvy enough!

Moving on, Grease fired my best friend from my old place of work, AKA Hell. He is now officially Satan. I'm sure of it. I didn't think Satan even existed before today. Now I know where he works. Funny how it's in the same city as GW, don't you think?

Declaration: In one month I am travelling to Colorado to visit my friend Dude and I am SOOOOO EXCITED!!! Love her to death. Can't wait to see her, plus I'm bringing the BF, so they can meet and agree on how awesome I am. And there's a chance we'll go horseback riding, which also excites me. I'm pretty sure I'll suck at it, but I can't wait to try.

More soon . . . .

Blogger, my old friend

Here I am at last. Been a while. I've been busy sexing it up, which I think is an entirely worthy cause. Let's catch up, shall we?

Job: crazy as hell these last few weeks. I like being busy, though. I just hope I still like it now that things start to slow down a little bit. I'm slightly behind in the work right now, which makes me nervous, but I'm not stressing too much. Good sign.

Friends: I seem to be losing patience in my old age. Some friends will always be dear and funny and assholes in the best manner possible, and I shall love them for it forever and for always. Everybody else is just getting on my nerves.

Family: Love 'em. I got the Ohio clan tickets to a JT concert in July and I'm SO excited for them to come. It'll be great. Full circle, in a way, since Dad used to sing his songs to us when we were kids. I miss them. Not enough to move back, but you get the picture.

Men: Pretty good in that department. Today was the first day that he actually irked me. Two months - that's pretty good, right? He's an absolute gem, and I adore him. The other night was a kickball party and there were LOTS of attractive, nice, fun guys. Tempting? Yes. But boy is this guy worth the wait. Today I walked into his room and there was a chick there. I trust him completely, and it didn't cross my mind for a second that there was anything going on, but part of me felt out of place. Like an intruder. Of course it doesn't help my inner insecure 13-year-old that she was tall, slim, and pretty with straight hair. It also wasn't a big deal at all. Still, there was an awkward moment, during which he didn't say much of anything. I ended up introducing myself and making an awkward exit.

Luckily I've evolved enough that I didn't overanalyze the situation, but I did overanalyze my own discomfort about it, which proved quite bothersome. So I'm going to go over there and tell him about it. No fun. Hope it's quick.

New topic: I just bought the Killers cd, and I really like it. Mr. Brightside is on right now, and it's making me feel better.

Magnito the Communicator

I majored in communication, and I can't make this shit up. It's fantastic. (Now) former coworker, who shall henceforth be called Magnito for reasons soon to be revealed, has a stellar bar persona. I had an inkling, but had no idea it could get this good.

Picture it, Black Rooster Pub, 2005. (That's black cock pub for you gutter-minds.) Magnito wooed the hell out of my roommate all night, and laid out such smooth lines that the rest of us couldn't help but write them down. The man is a genius. Roommate will be called Staci in the transcript below, as that is what Magnito called her. (Even though it's not her actual name. Classic.)

I should preface by saying two things. First, it helps (at least for me) to remember these little snippets of heaven as they're actually said - in a thick, Indian accent. That's right, Magnito's from India, baby. Only the best from my programmers. Second, some of these quotations may or may not have been taken out of context. Magnito is usually your typical, gentlemanly, polite coworker. Easily embarrassed, usually appropriate. Glad I threw some shots into the mix! I'd have never known! Regardless, none of this is fabricated. It's quality stuff, my friends.

Staci: You have a magnetic cock?
Magnito: Yes, of course I do…
Staci: Really?
Magnito: There’s only one way to find out.

Magnito: I’ve never had a nipple.

Magnito: We’re going to make-out?
Staci: Later.
Magnito: Oh, my lady (kissing her hand)
Staci: That’s right my lord.

Magnito: Say it again, Bitch. If Duchess pays $50, we’re gonna tongue.

Magnito: If everyone was at the same level I am…All I want to do is talk, baby…

Magnito: That is such a bullshitty thingy

Magnito: Are you getting there Staci? Am I looking any more handsome?
Staci: Are you pressuring me?
Magnito: Do you want to be pressured? Then hell yes.

Magnito: I’m sorry. I was disturbed by your breasts.

(Magnito putting on lip gloss) Magnito: My lips are niiice.

Magnito: If you grab my right breast I’ll give you whatever you want.

Magnito: Busyhands, right here. Crap, goddamn it!! What the fuck am I doing tonight?

And now, recorded online forever. Never to be erased from the history books of the blog. God bless it.

Ignatius falls

For all (two) of you, my loyal blog readers, the time has come. Ignatius, made famous by my first blog entry ever, has fallen. He was my favorite calendar man from the cowboy calendar given to me by HO two Christmases ago. He lasted several extra months, and was my hottest prospect for quite some time. But now that I've discovered a kind, handsome, mature, smart, considerate, responsible, adventurous, caring, sexy, giving man practically in my backyard, Ignatius and I must part. I'm alright so far; thank you for asking. Poor Ignatius is crushed. He closed his page and refuses to look at me. It's for the best, I suppose. Nothing good could come from holding on to our past.

Farewell, Ignatius. You were good to me. But in the words of Scotty-two, I had to trade up. They all trade up.

One love.

Magic Eight Ball

Months ago I was working on a show that used a magic eight ball as one of the props. Every night while setting out the props on the table, I asked the magic eight ball a question. Usually they were questions about finance or romance, as I was craving stability in both areas. The magic eight ball wasn't giving me very optimistic answers.

As you may know, one can only ask the magic eight ball yes or no questions, as its range of answers is rather limited. And usually it gave me precisely the answer I did not want to hear. But one night I asked it if I might meet someone through my soon-to-be roommate and have a big, fat, healthy relationship with him. The MEB said YES. I couldn't believe it. The first positive answer I'd had since . . . ever. I didn't dare ask it another question for the rest of the show's run.

So now, as I reminisce about prop placement, sing along with the Bridget Jones' Diary soundrack, prep for TaeBo, and plan what I'll be wearing out to Adam's Morgan tonight to impress the new guy (who happens to be a friend of my current roommate), I thank you, Magic Eight Ball. I thank you.

Good news and good news

Clearly, this week began in the suckiest manner possible. Work had me crying in the bathroom, and nobody wants that. Well, I took care of it. Quit. Told 'em. Finished it. Gave 'em notice. All the people I like were incredibly kind and supportive about it, in addition to being respectfully shocked. It's been a good Wednesday and Thursday. People whom I didn't think noticed me much (but whom I really like) were also especially kind. Gotta love that.

On to more important business. Happy Hour. Better yet, HH with the crush. I invited. He attended. He said he'd stay for one beer (had another HH to attend), and he stayed for two, plus good conversation that lasted us through the end of our Happy Hour. I tagged along (with an invitation, thank you very much) to the second HH. There was some back touching, some arm touching, overall VERY good body language. He's kind and smart and hot and good to me. So no matter what happens, tonight made me feel oh so very good. And yes, there were numbers exchanged.

Greasy day

One would think that Valentine's day could be sweet and such, if even for the cookies and cakes that my coworkers generously bring into the office. But no. Today was Greasy. Today I met with Grease.

I was told that I have 30 days to get my shit together and present to him a true understanding and plan for my project, or else. I'm essentially on probation. Initially I thought - hey, I can do that. It'll just take some elbow grease. Grease, indeed.

Then I realized that I don't WANT to do it. I don't want to work my ass off to prove to this man I don't like that I am worthy of a job I don't want to do. What's the point of causing myself so much grief? I'll tell you the point. Money. I have to decide if this misery is worth this money.

It's not. I'm out.

New guy! New guy!!

Yep, met somebody. Sure did. I met him, alright. Uh huh. To be honest, I don't know much about him. We haven't done anything more than chat. However, the first impressions are really good, he is clearly smart and kind, and handsome to boot. We're at that butterfly stage where we're paying more attention to each other than anybody else in the room, emailing nice things, etc. I love this stage. And the next stage. Hope there's a next stage. I suppose the most exciting thing is that I so rarely meet anyone who I can even consider a prospect. And this, my friends, is a pros-pect.

New car!

It's official. I have the brand new '95 Toyota Camry. Exciting! Roommie and I drove him back from Illinois this weekend, and he's still running and everything. This is my first male car, so it's a bit of a risk, but I'm willing to take it. I've named him Odysseus, but we'll call him Ody for short.

I had a lovely visit with the fam. First we stopped in Illinois, where I learned over brunch about the time that Grandma visited Aunt C and accidentally (and unknowingly) had some of the "special" brownies. Apparently she passed out. Then on to Ohio where I stole some of my oldest brother's home brew and learned that my sister has been calling the youngest brother Fruitcake Pansy. Nice, no? The kid's only ten, but he does use at least three different kinds of Garnier Fruictisse products. I know because I had to bum some this weekend, and he had the best stuff in the house. Innnnnteresting.

Goodbye Tea! Goodbye Sympathy!

Last night was the final show of the play I've been stage managing. I've been craving for this to be over for the last two weeks because it's so time consuming, and of COURSE I'm super-sad to see it go. I've been good about not crying so far, though. And today is strike, so I'm pretty sure I can contain myself. (Of course strike is on Superbowl Sunday. Why wouldn't it be? Not that I would have rather done it last night . . . .)

Speaking of last night, it was the cast party. Not as lively as I'd expected, but nice. I was drinking Yuengling all night, so I can't complain. Plus, I had half the cast thinking that my friend I brought was my stripper girlfriend, Bubbles. Another plus.

The worst/best part was when then fawned over me in thanks and compliments. I don't take compliments well, so I was completely uncomfortable, but everyone likes to hear those things. I'll miss those guys!

So as the week progresses, I project late nights at work, lunch dates with the actors, and (could it be?) time to do my laundry. Fantastic. Still, I miss the play already.

I can't sleep!

It's past 12:30 in the am, and I got no zzz love. Nothing. I've been lying there forever, and my teeth are starting to grind. So sucky. I started creating mini soap operas in my head, hoping that they would turn into dreams, but they just made my brain run faster. I'm going to pop a couple of advil and see if that helps. If not, pizza rolls, here I come. I missed dinner, you see, and . . . oh who am I kidding. I'll eat pizza rolls at any hour.

My ex-boyfriend

Today on the metro, approximately four stops from home, someone got off the train, leaving an empty seat. I chose to stand. (Hold your applause, please.) Then a young-ish man (32?) came forward tentatively and asked, "Would you like to sit down?" He motioned to the seat and everything.

"No," I said. "You go ahead." The man sat. Ladies first, though, just like a real gentleman. As you can imagine, we started a whirlwind romance, with him treating me like a lady, and me ignoring his plain looks since they are so clearly overpowered by his kind nature. Plus he reads the paper. I like a reader.

Then I saw his wedding ring. Ouch. It was good while it lasted, and meaningful, of course. He was quite a man, that ex of mine. Good times.

Lap dance

Tonight I received a short, but talent-filled lap dance from one of my cast members. Should I even ask how sad it is that the most action I've had all year is from a gay man? Let's be honest. I'll take it.

WHO's getting a new computer?

ME! That's who!

I'm getting a new computer on Saturday, la la LA! Dude, I'm getting a Dell. It's a flat screen 15 inch desktop with a DVD player and CD burner. Sweeeeeeeeet.

So long, Governor!

The National Kidney Foundation will soon have my car. Though I loved driving her, it was time for the Governer and I to part. Yep, Govey and I had some good times. This last patch was rough, which really sealed the deal on our parting ways, but I'll have some nice memories to cherish. Can't think of any right now, but . . .

So I'm really loving this play. And the people involved. And the overall experience. And the fact that it's keeping me from sitting on my keister all night watching the tube. However, I really miss sleeping. Sleeping was always good to me; we got along splendidly. Some would say we even spent too much time together, and I really, really miss it. I'll totally miss my new theatre buddies, but I can't wait for more sleep. Ahhhhh, feels good just thinking about it.

Today I got two, count em, TWO pieces of real mail. One: a save the date card for my friend Ashley's wedding. I have to start saving money. I have two weddings for people I actually like in June (I know, so does everybody else), but I REALLY want to go to both of them. Lottery, anyone? I can't wait to go. Oh, and I'm gonna need a date . . . . Anyway - Two: a bumper sticker I ordered online. "Nixon was reelected, too." I love it. GREAT mail day.

The hypothetical game! Yay!!

So let's say, hypothetically, you don't feel like going to work. You know you can stay late tonight, so you decide to give yourself an extra half hour in the morning. No problem, right?

Then, when you're "getting ready" (aka lounging in your oh-so-comfortable-especially-in-the-morning bed), your dear friend calls because she locked her keys in the car 30 minutes away, and you have her spare.

No worries, because you're already late to work. What's another hour? You'll just stay a little later. Next, hypothetically, you drive your car down to help her, but on the way something goes awry. The battery light comes on. The clock starts fading. You remember putting in a hypothetical new battery and alternator less than two weeks ago. What could this be? Whatever it is, it's enough to stop you just a mile from your friend's abode. Ick.

So while you sit by the side of the road, missing work, crying on the phone to your dad, bitter about the money you've dropped on this car over the last month (since you're getting rid of it in two weeks anyway!), your friend sits at home missing work as well.

Then, the tow truck shows up to drive you to a shop so they can perform a hypothetical inspection, and you cry some more because God just decided to remind you that you're not pregnant. Great. While your friend gets her car jimmied by AAA, you continue your afternoon task of staying at this random, dirty car shop for FIVE HOURS, wasting your entire day. The car will not run without hundreds of dollars of work. Not that you need it for any hypothetical non-metro-accessible theatre job five nights a week or anything. NoooOOOOOOooooo. Of course not.

Rest assured, by eight o'clock that evening, you've hypothetically returned home, just twelve short hours after you woke up hoping for a low key, yet productive day. And now you have a box full of car stuff so you don't have to clean it out in the middle of the night before the donation people come to take it because WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND would buy this CAR?!??

But that's just a hypothetical situation, of course. I mean, when does that happen? And it's not like it would matter to me anyway, because all I need is this ash tray. Yep, this ash tray is all I need. Oh, and this paddle game. This ash tray, and this paddle game are all I need . . . . . and I need this remote control . . . .

Where the hell have I been?

It's been almost a MONTH since my last blog entry. For shame, I say. For shame. Where have I been, you ask? In non-sleep land. Not that I'm complaining. Maybe slightly.

I also discovered that the techies at the new job actually do spend time monitoring the sites we visit. This means that they can read aaaallllllll about themselves. Ok, I haven't really written about the tech folks. They pretty much rock. Whatever. It also means that I'll only be writing from home from now on. I'm home for about 8 hrs a day, 4 of which are spent eating, showering, talking to my roommate, and doing theatre paperwork, so you can guess how much sleep is happening in my bed. Would that it were for the right reasons!

Moving on, the play is awesome. Draining, but fantastic. I can't wait to get into the swing of performances and actually have three nights off a week. Unfortunately, my car doesn't want to take me to the theatre anymore. So sad. I've been driving this for a couple of years. But since it now needs $1500 worth of repairs, I'll be driving this starting next month. I'm pretty excited about it. Mom's getting a new something-or-other and selling the camry to me. Good mom.

Gotta get to DRESS REHEARSAL. Eeeeek!

More soon, I swear.