Bad News Good News

Bad News

My computer died. I can't get into it to access anything I need, which is all mostly online. I'm typing this up on my dad's awful laptop. Is it just me, or is it just not the same using someone else's computer? You don't have everything set up the way you like and you can't play with it the same way you use yours. It's just weird and you never end up spending as much time on it as you do your own. Anyway...my computer crashed and isn't worth repairing.

So...

Good News

I'll be ordering my new Macbook this week. And that, my friends, is what we call excitingjoyhappinesseuphoriarelief. I will be a tad giddy when it arrives, just to warn you.

And if I'm not as quick in responses or reading blogs or anything that involves prolonged access to a computer, I apologize.

Not ashamed...

...that I really like when my parents leave me the house for at least one night alone.

...of how much I truly love my friends.

...of how much I love to dance.

...that sometimes, I make mistakes. Big, small, whatever...everyone does and we live and move on.

...to say that I think I'm really awesome.

...of working hard and playing hard.

...that I love The Boondock Saints so much.

...to say that, no, I am not good with money. Fiscally responsible? Sorry, not me.

...of my amazing skills. In the kitchen, in various creative departments, in wit, in...well...a lot of stuff.

...of my family. They be crazy, but they make me laugh, find me hilarious (most, anyway), and are always there for me when I need them.

...of hanging out by myself at home, drinking a little wine and getting actual rest that I've been missing (have I mentioned how little sleep I've gotten the past few weeks due to the work hard/play hard philosophy I seem to live by?).

...that my fantasy-crush on Hyde (yeah, a fictional character) is...intense.

...that music is my bliss.

...of wanting to get married sooner or later, without being in a huge rush...just, you know, before I'm thirty would be nice.

...of my love for European literature.

...that I stress myself out about my weight too much (I'm a girl, it's what we do).

...that despite this stress I put on myself, I find quite a few physical features that I know to be simply fantastic. I'm hot.

...of being a vegan. Seriously? All my health issues I used to have? So not a problem anymore.

...that I think history is fun to read about.

...of who I am.

...to say that I've run out of things to say...

jumbled

I must apologize for not being around much as of late.

I can tell you that there are all sorts of things that I'd love to tell you, but none of which I can really articulate. Basically, all this stuff is going on in my head and I'm having trouble putting it into words.

Until then, someone should come and sing this to me, I couldn't find a good video so you'll have to make do with lyrics (one of my all time favourite songs):

Oh, my heart is a thoroughbred
I can't sleep in my bed
Everything is burnin' up inside me
I need somethin' I can feel
Cigarettes and a driving wheel and
Oh, my god, when you cross your legs beside me...

I know true love don't love like anybody else
I know your heart don't beat like anybody else

When it all comes down to kerosene
And sorry signs on cash machines
And it don't look like anything you've dreamed of
I won't let you give it up
With sorry sighs and forced bad luck
Come on baby, let's see what we're made of...

I know true love don't love like anybody else
I know your heart don't beat like anybody else

And all these burnin' battlefields are now behind us
Life has brought us here together to remind us
That love will rise above it all and just keep growin'
Life keeps flowin', and every moment starts right here with us...

I know true love don't love like anybody else
I know your heart don't beat like anybody else...

(Mason Jennings, "Sorry Signs on Cash Machines")

Friday Night

It's been raining quite a bit here in the Sunshine State. That's actually fine by me, as I happen to love the rain (especially here where it's not the cold, biting rain, but just kind of chilly rain that feels good between the hot days).

Last night was rainy and the roads were wet, and I had to be on them. Usually, my favourite thing about rainy days is staying in, taking a nap if it's during the afternoon, or getting the best kind of sleep at night. But I was babysitting for my boss and was forced to brave the weather.

As I took a curve underneath an overpass I notice some cop cars under it and slowed down a bit, as I realized my speed might not be the best under the wet circumstances. A little nervous as I thought maybe they caught me going too fast. Sure enough, they pulled onto the road right after I passed, and I started muttering "Oh crap, please don't pull me over, please don't pull me over..."

But then the lights came on right behind me and I won't pretend that what I said wasn't worse than "crap."

The officer came over and asked for the license, registration, and insurance (How lucky was it that my dad had just handed me the new registration that morning before I left for work? True.). He then helped me find the insurance card, as I had no idea what I was supposed to be looking for. Seriously, I barely remember the one and only other time I've been pulled over and so I couldn't remember what I was supposed to give him. So he watched me fumble a bit and gave him the right insurance stuff that was right where it was supposed to be with the manual.

Then he asked if I knew why he'd pulled me over.

"I was speeding...?" In the kind of helpless, meek, I-don't-come-here-often, type of voice because I was pretty panicky on the inside.

"You were going about 70 in a 55."

I give him the, "HolycrapI'msosorryIdidn'trealize" eyes, kind of stammer, "I didn't...I must not have been paying attention...I..."

"The highway slows down from 65 to 55, do you travel on this highway regularly?"

"I don't really ever come down this far..."

"Where are you headed?"

"I'm supposed to babysit, near _______"

"When was the last time you got pulled over?"

Sincerely wracking my brain, because it has been a long time, "Um...like...a year or two ago...?"

Then I waited nervously as he went back to the squad car to determine my fate, knowing I was going to die if I got a ticket. But, I thought, he practically handed me my excuse (even though I wasn't lying when I answered his questions, it was all true)...maybe I'll just get a warning. But, I thought, I was going way over the speed limit there and maybe he's not allowed to just give me a warning if I'm going that fast.

He came back and asked me who was in the military. I told him how my mom was retired Air Force, and he told me he was giving me a warning. I was so relieved, I thanked him. He asked me to be more careful as the roads were wet and you know, bad things could happen.

And then I was so thrown off guard I forgot to use my turning signal when pulling back onto the road.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I'm not drunk, I wanna go home, officer
It's been a long road and I feel awful
I'm not drunk, I wanna go home, officer
And that's all, that's all, that's all

With a warning I check my wipers and defog
I notice my mind is on the floor
But I must move onward

So I pick a song and I sing along
While lofty dreams dance on and on
Over a place I'll live forever

I'm not drunk, I wanna go home, officer...
-- Kate Earl, "Officer"

There's Always An Explanation

My parents are looking at getting another, inexpensive car/truck to get me so that my mom can have her car back (someone rear-ended me last July and wrecked my trusty Tacoma, Galahad). Basically, they're get something cheap at auction that they could resell when I move off to another country.

My mom called me today from the auction to tell me the options they might bid on:

Mom: This Chevy was pink.
Me: What? Like...what kind of pink?
Mom: Well not like pepto-pink, but kind of a hot pink...
Me: Seriously?
Mom: Well is it has really great mileage on it...
Me: Yeah, because someone was probably too embarrassed to drive it around!

I name all my cars, and I feel that if I got a pink truck not only would I have to suffer the teasing torture of every male friend I have (and girls too, yeah) but I would also have to name it something like, "Frenchie." I don't know how I'd deal with a pink truck I called Frenchie...

Luckily, there's another one in white...

The Lover Without a Lover

All the kiddos (well, the two of them that were there today) were down for their naps when I initiated a very short conversation over text messaging:

Me: I should so be in therapy.
Becks: Because of the kids?
Me: No, just 'cause I don't make sense.
Becks: LOL

But it's true. I don't feel like I make sense. And I'm blaming it on being lonely.

I was never very good at being lonely. I always wanted the closeness of another person. Before I had experienced it I just longed to know what it was like, and after knowing it I just really miss it. I always feel like I have a well of love that can't be emptied and want someone to give it to (just not in a smothering kind of way). And a huge part of me gets a little irritated by it when the only words I have to describe it are cheesy and make me feel really, really vulnerable just putting them out there. I've always wanted to get married and have kids and care for my husband and babies. It's always been a natural thought process that I could do that, that I desired it and not much else.

I have it on good authority that I make an excellent girlfriend and those authorities inform me I'll make a fantastic wife. The Ex himself would still tell you that to this day (and so would his mother). One of his friends that has become a good friend to me detailed to me once in an e-mail why seeing me be that girl that's really cool and fun on her own but also goes all out for the guy she's with made me so attractive. It was the first time someone expressed to me from pure observation reasons I should be a coveted partner. (And I am not with that guy who said those things now because? Because I can't return any sentiment to him beyond "I treasure your friendship.") It made me cry because I was feeling the loneliness, because of the truth in the words, and because I didn't know why there wasn't someone I wanted to be with that saw and loved those things. I don't cry easily or often, so that was uncomfortable.

I haven't let the loneliness have any spotlight for awhile. Meaning I just haven't allowed it to be around. I've been on dates, or even just spent time with guys I might be interested in that might have been interested in me. When it didn't work out I didn't give it much thought, not to say I didn't feel a little twinge wishing it could have. I was doing really well "dealing with singlehood." Perhaps that had to do with all the other things I felt going on in my life. Or it was enough that I was putting myself out there.

Or I struggled with wanting something and being afraid of it at the same time. Cautiously keeping my heart on my sleeve where it's always been and hoping I'd meet someone with a guarantee that I could let myself fall in love with.

I told you I don't make sense.

I don't make sense because I find myself in this world the feelings and emotions have made up in my head. And I feel like a pathetic fourteen year old girl that thinks her romantic fantasies will play out exactly the way she dreams them up. I can't stand the part of me that has ridiculous daydreams about a guy that I know won't be around and I won't have. I don't want to spend my time thinking on perfect scenarios that will never play out in the real world.

I am not saying that I'm wanting to be realistic in the sense that I'll settle for whoever asks me first. I'm just saying my make believe world is fit for movie magic and I am not so naive as to think I will be living out The Notebook.

Parts of me are fighting with each other and all of them are angry with Loneliness. There were several opinions against writing this post as it makes us out to be whiny and too much of a stereotypical girl...or something like that.

What it boils down to is me cuddled up under my big comforter at night, surrounded by two regular pillows, four smallish ones, my trusty blanket, holding Bear, who I've had since I was two, and feeling cold. Because there are no strong arms there, no shirt collars that smell of smoke, and no steady breathing matching mine. No warmth.

And don't mistake this for a simple need for an extra body in my bed. I crave intimacy that knows to leave me to myself when I need to cry for one of the three or four times a year that I do. Intimacy that has inside jokes and secrets no one else knows. That is quiet and doesn't require a lot of talk, but is full of laughter and silliness. That tries to understand the system set up for the closet and my processes that can't be interrupted when getting ready in the morning. That doesn't need to say "I love you" out loud for it to be known. That can take me on in a fight, call me out for being stubborn or ridiculous, can accept that in return, and knows not to "just let me win." Intimacy that isn't shy in thought or emotion but doesn't run around shouting things off of mountaintops or skyscrapers.

There's so much to say about it. I just have so many moments lately where it's washing over me and I feel heavy with a longing to love someone like that.

So now I'm exposed and you know my secret. One that I don't usually like to talk about, anyway. I blogged in a moment of weakness...
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You don't need to change
a thing about you, babe,
I'm tellin' you,
from where I sit you're one of a kind.
Relationships, I don't know why,
they never work out and they make you cry,
but the guy that says goodbye to you
is out of his mind...
-- Griffin House, "The Guy that Says Goodbye to You is Out of His Mind"

Now what?

I was ready for an argument. I was ready to listen to someone tell their side but stand my ground anyway. I knew we thought differently, I know we have different approaches and don't always see things the same way. I knew he'd have good arguments and I'd need to be ready to counterpoint with my own brilliant logic.

I was prepared for the possibility that things could get a little heated, and that I'd be getting just angry enough to say things that aren't very nice. That I would get frustrated and flustered the way I do when things turn into raised voices and tempers flaring a little bit. That I might say those things you always want to but won't unless they come out in that heated moment (I was actually kind of hoping that they would).

And then he had to throw me off by being all rational and making sense and calmly acknowledging where he'd gone a tad wrong. That jerk.

So I had to respond in kind, and have a nice, civil conversation where we actually got things pretty much sorted out between us. At least enough to ensure we're still friends and will continue to be for what will hopefully be a nice, long time.

Or something like that.

Now I want to build up to a tiny yelling match with someone...

Who says you need to know how to count?

Because of poor planning on my part, I haven't actually done a good job of numbering my 100 things posts. So the numbers didn't add up right because I wasn't keeping track very well. To correct this, I've started adding them to another document so I can see them all laid out (I'm a bit visual, so that helps me) and now I have them corrected. But I ended up with one extra, I guess I did eleven one post where the plan was to do ten every time. To even it out I'm going to do nine this time and then proceed from there.

Ironically, one of the things on that list is how I never even tried to learn things related to math in school...

Here we go, numbers 62-70:

62. I failed Chemistry twice in high school, and I really tried to understand it. Did. Not. Get. It. I felt like they just explained it the same way every time and I was all, "Dude, I am not understanding this and I need you to find a way to speak to me..." But they didn't, so I failed. Both times. When I had to take it in college I signed up for an on-line course and my brother basically did it for me. I got a B.
63. I have been called a tease on many occasions. I am always really surprised when this happens.
64. I'm a musical freak. I love them. I could sing you the whole Rent and Wicked soundtracks and do well with many others. Note that my favourites are those with Idina Menzel originating roles (Maureen and Elphaba, respectively) because, seriously, I adore her. She's amazing. I was that kid that sang and danced along to every movie and soundtrack (and still am, actually).
65. I really can't stand when you leave someone a message and they don't even acknowledge that they received it. It's probably one of my biggest pet peeves. I had to explain this to a friend recently in a "Hey, I know you're busy, I'm just lettin' you know that if I get snarky with you about you not calling me back, that's why..." kind of way. I think those were close to my exact words. Because, seriously, it's so rude.
66. I was also raised with the understanding that trying to talk to someone who is on the phone with someone else is pretty much an unwritten deadly sin. Apparently, not a lot of other people know this.
67. I don't like skinny guys. I mean really, why would I want to be with you if you make me look fat by comparison? Ok, so I'm not that shallow, I just really like strong, comfy shoulders and not little, pointy ones.
68. I have only had one actual boyfriend and he didn't come along until I was twenty. I had dated before, but the Ex was the only one that took me on quasi long term. We don't talk anymore.
69. My nails grow really fast and it irritates me because I like them short and hate taking the time to sit down and clip/file them down.
70. I avoid bookstores because I know there isn't a chance I won't spend money if I go in them. It's one of those love/hate things. I have a huge stack of stuff to read and have no business adding to it, but there are so many more books that I need to own. I can usually justify buying a poetry book because it's not like I sit down and read through them the way I do a novel, hence needing to avoid the bookstore.

Ok, this section of the list was a little hurried. But I've been wanting to start posting regularly again and also get this list finished, so there you go.

I love you all, really, I do.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I stand for the power to change,
I live for the perfect day,
I love 'til it hurts like crazy,
I hope for a hero to save me.
I stand for the strange and lonely,
I believe there's a better place,
I don't know if the sky is heaven,
but I pray anyway..."
-- Idina Menzel, "I Stand"

P.S. Look up Idina. She's married to Taye Diggs and if I had idols, she's be number one.

Oh yeah, I said that...

Remember when I was all, "Sorry guys, regular posting will resume at some point when the schedule evens out and I feel less crazed?"

Yeah well, that hasn't really happened yet.

However, I've been lurking a lot. Trying to keep up with all those lovely blogs out there that I adore. Reading, not commenting, so let me just say that all of you are doing a great job and you should keep it up.

Also, Mr. and Mrs. Smith is a super-cool movie. I forgot how much I love it.