endeavors

Saturday, June 29, 2002

I am so fucking drunk right now. Yep. That's all. The Boy enjoyed the wine, I enjoyed the rum from the cruise. OK, it's hard to type. I'm going now.

I do not like wine. Even when it's expensive and I get it for free. zha, you will be getting a bottle. Let me know how it compares.

Friday, June 28, 2002

So much for going to bed early.

Sometimes I wish there were no human emotions. Sometimes I wish I lived on a deserted island with a huge pool and a clean beach and tons of books and digital cable. Just me and some horses and some lions. That would be easy. Easier. I could read and sleep and learn and maybe even correspond on the internet. But not talk on the phone. Not have any contact. Because the internet would just be words. Maybe I would have postal service to my island. But no one would visit. The people I kept in touch with wouldn't seem real. Because they would be two dimensional. And I could live in my head. And remember. But I wouldn't lose anyone. No one would move away. People wouldn't get married and have their own lives. With children and dogs and everything. Why is it that I would not be able to function if something happened to zha or tosh? Or my dad? Or mom or sister? Why can I say I love you to some people, but not to others? I could say it to zha in front of his mom or sisters, but not in front of my parents. Because they don't understand. They only see love as one thing. They would probably have a conniption if they knew I said it to Tosh. Because I do. I love. Her and zha and Heather and even my Lazzy Bear. I love Johnny, but I've never said it. He's said it to me, but I've never said it back. Because some part of me is still programmed by my parents. Love is not one thing. But sometimes I wish I felt nothing at all. Then I wouldn't be sad that my friend moved to New York today. Or that someday I'll leave everything behind for my own dreams. Or that the one person I feel the closest to will soon be the farthest away. Yes we write and yes we talk, but we don't drum together. Or eat dinner. I haven't heard him whistle in so long. And I have been more open with people lately. I tell them how I feel. I let them know how important they are to me. Because you never know. One day you might hug them goodbye, and that's it. You never see them again. And this is not all about death. It's about people's lives changing. Moving to another city and saying you'll keep in touch, but really, after a while, you don't. Because you meet new people and forge new relationships. But why must we do that? What does that fill? Do I even want to do that when I move? Start all over again? What's the point? People come and go and that's just a fact. But what makes them stay? Why do I meet someone and have a fantastic time, and the very next day drive her to a bus station so she can live in another city? Sometimes I anticipate the pain of letting go so much that I won't let anyone in. Part of me isn't counting on us living together. Because something always seems to happen. Something always seems to change. Maybe you really will go to Florida. Maybe I really will stay here. Because at this moment, I can't imagine being anywhere else. It just doesn't seem possible. I just want to hole myself up in my apartment and let the world spin around me.

But maybe none of this is real, and it doesn't matter anyway. I know you know. Why won't you tell me?

This morning I dreamt that I had a cold. My entire dream consisted of me sniffing snot. And wouldn't you know, when I woke up I had that heaviness to my eyes and a runny nose. It's summer, people. How can I possibly have a cold?! I spent all day blowing my nose and sneezing. This better go away by tomorrow. Grr. Grr, I say. So my big plans for Friday night? Take a shower and be in bed by 9:30. So if you are my friend and you are reading this and were thinking about calling me, please don't. I will be asleep.

Thursday, June 27, 2002

I think I've decided to boycott leg-shaving. I hadn't shaved since my last incident, and I was beginning to look a little ape-ish. I couldn't stand it anymore, so I took a razor to my legs. Now, shaving is not the most fun thing to do. You have to balance on one leg in a slippery shower covered in soap and water. I was doing fine until I came across my right shin, where there was a nice, big bug bite. Which I had forgotten about. And that sucker came completely off. I was holding my hand over it as pressure, but the blood was seeping through my fingers. Good god did that guy hurt. Now I have a hole in my leg where the venom used to be, which matches my scab on my left knee from last week. I tell ya, the things we go through...Actually, I love having my legs smooth, so I may need to try other alternatives to the blade. Because, as you may have noticed, I'm not the most coordinated person in the world.

Wednesday, June 26, 2002

It's 8:43 p.m. and my upstairs neighbor is having sex. I'm in my living room with my dehumidifier and my ac on. And I can still hear his squeaky bed. Oh, he just changed positions. The bed stops bouncing for a bit, then the rhythm starts up again. Maybe I'm just jealous because I'm by myself in front of my computer picking my nose. Maybe I need to buy him a new bed.

Life amazes me sometimes. Most of the time. I woke this morning with the most beautiful sense of peace. The past two days at work have been stressful. 22 hrs. Not including my 2 1-hr lunch breaks. And today will be the same. But I have tomorrow off. And it seems that everyone is moving back to Dayton. Tomorrow I'll be spending time with Martha, zochae, and my baby. And lunch with my mom. And time with Natasha. But at this moment, I'm so happy. With everything. I was having some insecurities about The Boy, but they're gone. Don't know why. I just woke up and felt so good. So content. And I wished I had the ability to stop time. Not for very long. Maybe an hour or two. But just keep that moment. Hold it. And then I read Tosha's thoughts. And I cry. I wish I could make all the pain go away. I wish I could hold her and protect her from the world. I wish so many things for her and her mom. And her brother. I wish she could be with me in my moment of nirvana. And forget everything. But I can't. I can call her. And talk to her. And see her. And listen. But I can't make it go away. Or make it less.

But I can love.

And that I do.

Very much.

Monday, June 24, 2002

The Boy is so cute. Last night we did absolutely nothing but lay around and chat. So these are the games he played when he was little:

"THESE STAIRS ARE LUMPY"

It's actually hard for me to type the rules, because I'm laughing so hard at not only remembering how he told me, but the game is so...well, you'll see. What You Did: He and his brother (they're about two years apart) would wrap themselves up in multiple blankets and then throw/roll themselves down the stairs. They would have pillows set up at the bottom to break their fall. That's it. That's the entire game. And the other:

"GHOSTS OF MILLIONS OF PEOPLE"

Now, for this one, they would cover themselves in a sheet so they couldn't see, and then try to wrestle each other off the bed. The titles of these games are what kill me. The fact that these boys actually played these games for hours at a time also kills me. Ahh, life is so good.

Sunday, June 23, 2002

I just want to sleep. Is that too much to ask? Yesterday I had to work at the center from 8-1. Which is really 7:45-2. Then I worked the Rose party from 4:15-1 in the morning. And I barely made it home to bed. It was a ball and I left with two bottles of red wine, a bottle of white, and some champagne, and all I wanted to do was sleep until 10. But my upstairs freak of a neighbor insists on being up early on Sundays to drop his bowling ball several times and roll it around in the kitchen. He is seriously so incredibly loud. I want to go up there and yell at him. "IT IS THE SABBATH, YOU CRAZY LOUD MAN!! LET ME REST!" But, alas, I just lay in bed, tossing and turning for over an hour, trying to ignore him, and eventually giving up and getting out of bed. Last Sunday was even worse. He was banging the poo out of his woman. And I mean sex like you've never heard. I was afraid someone was going to get hurt. You could actually hear the mattress coming off of the box spring. I've never been so scared in my life.
"What happened here, officer?"
"Well, ma'am, it appears that the upstairs neighbors are fine, just a little shaken. Unfortunately for the girl below them...She was just trying to sleep when the bed came crashing through her ceiling, crushing her to death."
They finished their violent love-making in the living room. And I could almost hear them hi-fiving each other. The woman was like, "Whoo-hoo!! Alright!! My God!!" I thought she would go hoarse.
Today I have to work at Click. My second to last Sunday. I resigned last week, thank god. No more of this working six days a week crap. My social calendar has been much more busy, which is kind of stressful. It's like, I have so much to do personally that I feel like I'm neglecting my friends. But when I accept invites from them, I'm so pooped at the end of the day, all I want to do is veg out in front of the tv with a movie and The Boy and go to bed early. It's a very delicate balance. One I'm sure I can handle. It will just be easier when I have my Sundays completely open.
OK, the complaining is over. I have a date with Billy Blanks.

Friday, June 21, 2002

OHMYGOD!! Make it stop! I am becoming a sappy, dorky girl. And I'm never like that. He makes me squishy. This is disgusting. Poor Tosha pukes every time I talk to her. Cripes. Cripes, I say.

Today's nasty porn headline:

"SMELLY BUTTHOLE JUICES!!!"

Thursday, June 20, 2002

Sometimes I wonder if other people can hear my conversation with Tosh when we're on our cells. Has that ever happened to you? You hear bits and pieces of other people's lives. Well, last night they would have been in for a treat. I picture three middle-aged men sitting in a room somewhere, scanning the airwaves for drug stuff, when they come across us. And get to hear all about blowjob techniques.

Tuesday, June 18, 2002

I wasn't even going to post. I was just going to go straight to bed. But as I walked away from my triple-locked door with a dopey grin on my face, I passed two pictures I had set out. To make copies of. And I still can't believe this is real. I can't believe the boy I had a crush on last summer is gone. I cried in the shower this morning. And at work. They let me leave early. This whole thing just makes me so sad. All I could think about this morning was the cruise. My sister and I went snorkeling at Champagne Reef, and it was just like in the geology books. I saw the shelf drop off. I remember swimming to the edge and looking down into a hundred feet of nothingness, and I felt the tug of the ocean. And it scared me, so I swam back towards the shallow area. But it was incredibly difficult, even though I'm a great swimmer. And I wonder if that's what Aaron felt. But he couldn't swim back. The river was too strong.
Dammit.
I'm sick of crying. And I had such a wonderful time with The Boy tonight. We watched Goodfellas and I completely forgot about the outside world. And I just wanted my night to end like that. To say goodbye and go to sleep and look forward to seeing him for lunch tomorrow. But instead I pass a couple of photos. And I remember, Everything.

I have the absolute best friends in the entire world. Tosh and I talked for a while last night. I didn't want to tell her--she's had to deal with a lot of death lately--but I did, and she's great. And all I wanted to do was to say hi to zha. I just needed to make sure he was okay. But it was late, so I decided not to. I get online to post, and I have a whole bunch of stuff in my in-box-- four from him. And I just started to cry. So I called, and he was up. And, again, I wasn't even planning on telling him. But as soon as I heard his voice, I could barely speak. And he was such a comfort.

God, I'm so lucky.

This morning, I was half-awake, and in my dream, I was talking to god. "I need some kind of a sign, something. I need to know he's okay." I was just saying that over and over. And my phone rang and scared the buhjeezus out of me. It was Tosha calling to check on me. Just to see how I was doing and to ask how I slept. I love you guys So Much. But the last person I talked to last night was The Boy. I felt weird calling him because we haven't been seeing each other that long, and that's a lot to dump on a person, but I really wanted to hear his voice. And, bless his heart, he stayed on the phone with me for an hour and a half.

And I slept really well.

Monday, June 17, 2002

I saw Hottie Pete the Space Cowboy tonight. Actually, I called him Saturday and left a message saying he and Aaron, his Ricky Martin lookalike roommate, should come over 'cause I'm having a small gathering. And he called me back at one in the morning and said we should get together soon. So I met him at the coffee shop tonight. He was sitting outside, but to get there, you have to walk indoors. Melissa was there, so I chatted with her for a bit. And somehow, I mentioned I hadn't see Aaron in forever.

"Oh, I wouldn't mention him around Pete."
"Why, are they in a fight or something."
"Wow, you don't know."
"Geez, did he die or something?"

He's. Fucking. Dead.

And I thought, this can't be real. She's kidding. She's playing the sickest goddamn joke in the world on me. TELL ME YOU'RE KIDDING. But she wasn't, and I had to sit down with Pete like nothing happened. I couldn't even process it. My friend is dead, but I can't grieve because I need to be strong. So Pete and I chat for a bit, then he looks up and says, "I don't really know how to say this, so I'm just going to tell you." And I said I knew. That Melissa had just told me. That's why it took me five minutes to walk through the coffee shop. And we talked for a long time. And it was really good. And next week we're making dinner together. As soon as I dropped him at his place, the tears came. So I called Tosh. When I got home, I looked through my pictures. I'm going to Click to make copies to give to Pete. And I cried. Until my eyes hurt. And I remembered the last time I saw Aaron. He was stationed in Iraq for a while, so I hadn't seen him. Then, one day, walking to my car, I passed the OE, and he and Pete were eating. So I stopped and chatted for a long time. And got two really great hugs from him. And a week or two later, he was gone. I'm really glad I saw him that night. I'm really glad.

But at the moment I need to go digest what I've been told.

And cry for a really long time.

Sunday, June 16, 2002

My favorite part is moving my hair out of my face and smelling your cologne on me.

Saturday, June 15, 2002

Let's talk about leg shaving. When you cut yourself, sometimes you don't notice right away. Today I nicked my left knee, but didn't think anything of it. So I went on to my right leg. Then I noticed a pool of blood gathering at my left foot. I had taken a chunk of my skin off. But it didn't really hurt, that's the deceptive thing. And usually by the time the shower is over, the cut has healed. Not this guy. As I'm drying off, I notice a lovely thick river creeping down my leg. The first thing that comes to mind is alcohol swab. MotherExplative that hurt! And it took a good ten minutes to finally clot. So I'm relaying last night's revelries to my lady with my leg above my heart. But now I'm blood-free and silky-smooth. And ready to do laundry and dishes. Life is good.

Friday, June 14, 2002

Read this. It makes me sigh. And the best part is I'm in the wedding. I've known Heather since the seventh grade, and I absolutely adore her. And Amy is fantastic. And I'm so bursting with joy for the two of you I could just vomit!

Wednesday, June 12, 2002

We have a summer slim down special going on. With tons of advertising. The first thing you see when you walk in our center is a four foot poster of a fat woman with camel toe. I mean, please folks, could we have chosen a different "before" pic? I have a perfect view of said 'toe from the front desk, and sometimes I just can't stop staring. It sucks you in. It's like a black hole. Ohdeargod! Someone help me.

zha once told me that cold showers increase your sex drive. Now, that may be true, but I think the stipulation is that you actually have to want to take that cold shower. Usually I like to take showers so hot it burns my skin. During the summer, I take luke warm showers. But this morning, I took a nice cold shower.

Not on purpose.

See, there are three things the guy above me does: Moves heavy objects whilst wearing metal boots and tapdancing, has sex occasionally, and bathes. I was in a rush this morning, so I had no choice but to join him. And, for the record, the coldness did not make me horny. It made me angry.

And now you know my bathing habits.

Tuesday, June 11, 2002

So my job. I'm the assistant manager. But I run the place. Today I trained the actual manager on some computer stuff. Plus I got my consultation, and she didn't. heehee. The one thing I don't like about this job is how money hungry management is. Which I understand, but they have to understand something, as well. We are in the weight loss business. This is the number one most sensitive subject for women. And they don't want to be harassed or bullied into buying something. So, I guess I love the servicing part of my job. Not the selling. Even though I'm really good at both. ;)

So tonight. Yea For Courtney!!! Steph and Jason and his man and C joined Tosh and me for our date. We saw The Sweetest Thing. Which was so worth the buck fifty! It was raunchy and exactly the way we are. And for the first time in forever, I was in the mood to go to a bar afterwards. So I drove to the Oregon District to see if the coffee shop was open, or the music place so I could meet someone I don' t know. But neither were, so I came home. And now that I'm typing, I'm starting to get sleepy. Courtney suggested to Tosh that when the two of us get back from Kings Island, we should call her up and go out to a bar. Very much looking forward to that!

And The Boy is getting used to me. It was cute. Last night he came over, and after we stopped making out he wanted to watch a movie. Which was absolutely fine with me. I love movies. My perfect day would consist of making out all day long and watching movies. Just laying around. And making pancakes. P.S. My mom borrowed 4 dvds from the library for me, so I just might do that on Saturday. I may be by myself, but I'll be a happy camper. Anyway, he asks if I'm really okay with it, or if on the inside I'm all, "No, you sonofabitch, we need to cuddle." Which I wasn't. Not that cuddling is bad, I was just in agreement about the movie watching situation. And, judging from the way he talked, he's not used to that. See, I say what's on my mind. Ask The Scmuck. But, like I said, we're still in the "getting used to each other" phase. I'm not psychotic and he's not an asshole. This is working out well.

Sunday, June 09, 2002

Oh, yeah, I now have strawberries and chicken and raspberries and lettuce and salad dressing. My fridge doesn't look so naked.

In an attempt to be more social, I went to a fun party tonight. The Boy was supposed to come over and/or call, and he did not, plus I had already accepted the invite to this event, so I drove slightly east of the Middle Of Nowhere to Renee's. And actually had a good time. Plus I left with glow-in-the-dark bath bubbles, which sounded pretty interesting. And holy crap was there a lot of stuff there. I mean, the chick literally had about ten suitcases full of toys and a rack of clothes. And there was this cute little red dress that I almost got so I could match my girlfriend, but I opted for the bubbles, instead.

Tuesday we're adding Courtney into our date night, which I'm looking forward to.

Yesterday I had a conversation with zha, and he had this to say:

"When I see couples holding hands in the produce section of the grocery store, I consider ramming my cart into theirs."

Ahh, that boy will always make me smile.

Thursday, June 06, 2002

I did three loads of laundry yesterday, and they're on my bed so I'll fold them before I go to sleep. Yeah. So they're moving to the floor. I had a faboo time with my girlfriend tonight. We gabbed and laughed as usual, but she said something that was funny to me the way "I will always have a soft spot in my vagina for Foxy Boy" is funny to her.

"You're cute. Bring your penis over here."

Ah, I love my lady.

This will be of interest only to Adrienne and those who live/work/deal with the deaf community. Today a girl came in for her daily, and she had two friends with her. The guy was deaf, and I recognized the girl from the silent lunches last September. So I introduced myself and George asked if I had a sign name. Which, I didn't. So he gave me one! I was very excited. See, only deaf people can give sign names, so this was incredibly exciting for me. And I wanted to call Adrienne (hope I'm coming close to spelling your name right) right away to tell her, but her purse--along with her cell phone--was stolen, so I can't get in touch with her. And this morning I put some chicken into my brand new crock pot my mom gave me so I could eat as soon as I came home. But, apparently, I did not add enough water, so my chicken was a red chunk of crusty disgustingness. Much sadness.

Wednesday, June 05, 2002

I find myself trying to find things I don't like. And at this point, I can't. I think it's a protection thing. The last three were so disappointing. I just haven't done a good job at weeding them out since My Matthew. Which was, gosh, three years ago. But this one is so great. I think I'm just afraid he'll end up being a shmuck like the others. But something tells me he won't. I don't know. How 'bout we not analyze this and we go to bed. OK. Sounds good. P.S. Still no food.

The only thing in my apartment I have to eat is broccoli and garlic. I need to go grocery shopping.

Tuesday, June 04, 2002

Where to start?...Today it rained. Hard. But it was sunny. So sunny you had to squint to see. Steam rose off the black and yellow parking lot. Life is so good. So good. Lemme break it down. I went on a date last night. Now, I haven't been on an actual date in two and a half years. Yeah, there was The Shmuck last summer, as well as Foxy Boy. But the first was dating after the initial drunken kissing at a club, and the second involved only one date where we figured out that we had nothing to talk about, so we should just stick to making out. So this was a bona fide First Date. And the most fabulous part wasn't the first baseman throwing me a ball 'cause I'm cute, or the guitar playing and singing, or even the foot massage. It was in the middle of the conversation when everyone around us stood up and clapped, and we realized the game was over. And today, all of the managers and assistants were in our center for a big meeting. And starting Monday, I'm going to be the assistant manager of the Fairborn Center. Aww, yeah. Who's your daddy? It's only the second day of my third week on the job. Tonight I spent the evening with good people at TGIFriday's because DWBob loves us all. Who I would link to, but your "letters from Bob" page cannot be found. And I'm so amazed at everything. Life. The hot pink and blue sky. Your unrequited love. And I had so much fun tonight.

Me: "So next Thursday at the courthouse at noon, be there."
You: "Yeah, but I get to be your maid of honor."
Me: "Of course. Plus I might need another hand to hold him down in case he tries to run."

Everyone had such a great time.

And my neighbor upstairs is moving a bookshelf, and dropping all of the books along the way.

Monday, June 03, 2002

What an amazingly perfect day!

Sunday, June 02, 2002

"Dogfart Sluts"

What in the name of all that is good and pure does that mean?!! I have my email sorted so all the junk mail goes to another folder, but I always check it just in case someone I actually want to hear from gets filed there. And, as I have mentioned earlier, some of the titles for the junk are insane. But this one takes the cake.