does anybody have any cookies?

i could really go for about 2 dozen home-baked chocolate chip cookies, if you've got any to spare.

i went to a goth show on saturday night. strange. not in a bad way, just a scene that i'm entirely unfamiliar with. did you know that while the kids will pile up near the stage to get close to the performers, they won't move to the music? not even a head bob or toe tap... apparently that is the norm, but i didn't know it was even possible. how can you not move AT ALL to driving bass and pounding drums? but...i guess it's just part of the culture. i felt like an anthropologist or something. studying young goths in their natural environment.

sunday i went to a baseball game. probably the most un-goth thing i could've done. but it was fun. we had great seats. and the last couple innings were actually exciting. i kept missing all the exciting parts of the early innings. too busy leaving to buy beer and stepping outside to smoke cigarettes. a couple post-game beers at the bar across from the stadium, then off to home.

being drunk in the middle of the day is probably one of my top five favorite feelings, but coming down is a bitch. it's one thing to go to sleep and wake up with a hangover. it's another thing entirely to be awake for the process, which involves the buzz being slowly overtaken by a roaring headache.

seriously, send cookies.

too much time on the computer?

i had a dream last night about virtual reality. about being in a virtual world. the water was computer-animated, but felt real. i'm just writing it here so it's written somewhere to help me remember later. i haven't pieced the whole thing together yet.

i like pachyderms

letting go

i was inspired by something queserasera posted a few days ago concerning the difficulty of saying goodbye. to people. to places. to things.

i don't like it. not one bit. when i was younger, i just stuffed it all down. left without saying goodbye. i did a good bit of moving around in my early twenties, when most people are busy making the most important relationships of their lives. me, i took for granted every one- or two- year friendship. hardly hesitated to even look back as i was walking away.

the dam has to break sometimes. once or twice a year, for my entire post-adolescent life, i've slogged through my big box of nostalgia. reading old letters, looking at old pictures, listening to old mixed tapes. six or seven beers and half a pack of cigarettes later, i'm usually crying and wondering why the hell i do this to myself. the truth is that if i didn't, i'd probably need to be committed. like i said, the dam's gonna go sooner or later.

i can't stand making connections with people and then losing them. can't fucking stand it. even my closest friends don't identify very well. they're the type to go on a business trip, or a vacation, meet some people, and happily go back home, chalking the whole thing up as a happy memory. i tend to be inconsolable, sad and angry and full of regret on the last day of whatever it is--not that anyone would know. not like i would tell them how nice it was to meet them, that it's a shame we don't live closer, that we'll have to keep in touch. it just sounds like stupid words to me. stupid words that most people say and don't mean.

i've always understood that the people that leave a powerful short-term impact on me do not share my feelings. i know that the communication won't continue. that's probably what kills me the most.

about three years ago, i had to travel from hawaii to virginia for a week of training. the second day there, i met and hit it off with two guys in my class. god, they were so fucking rad. it was like summer camp. we were inseparable. met each other for breakfast and lunch every day, immediately went from class to civvies to the enlisted club as soon as class ended, giggling uncontrollably the entire time. laughing like i hadn't laughed in years. laughing so hard one night that jamie actually FELL down while we were walking to the club. stone sober. just couldn't stand anymore from all the giggling. it made me and charly fall, too. and we're all pointing and laughing and each other's laughter is just making us laugh more.

when it wasn't the three of us; when it was just me and one or the other, the laughter would be interrupted by more serious talk. we'd talk about our spouses/significant others. we'd talk about our jobs. we'd talk about how weird it was to travel so far and hit it off so well with a virtual stranger. all of this in five days.

i couldn't bear saying goodbye to them. i wanted them to play with me forever. i know they liked me, too, but they had their own lives to go back to. they, like most other people, are okay with making quick, close, temporary connections. it took me months to get over them. there were a few sporadic emails, even fewer sporadic phone calls. but what to talk about when we weren't face-to-face, pointing and giggling?

the same thing is happening in my recent dating experiences. sometimes it's not so much that a guy is turning out to be a jackass. sometimes that's not what hurts. what hurts is that someone i connected with, even if just for a few weeks, is disappearing. and there is nothing i can do about it. someone i shared things with, someone who laughed with me, someone i welcomed into my home. someone whose belly my cats took a nap on. someone who exchanged seventy-five pages of emails with me. who showed me the short movies that he and his cronies make in their spare time, filling me in on who's who as they would appear on screen. once a ball like that gets rolling, i can't stand having it taken from me.

it seems like a fucking waste. why share anything with anyone? why even try to make new connections with new people? and how can such a connection affect me so strongly and just seem like a casual nothing to others?

i'm not comfortable with this aspect of myself. i wish there were a drug or a magic word that would help to bring my level of ferocity down a couple notches. it's the reason i have a huge box of nostalgia in the first place. if i can't bear to have people leave me, how could i stand to get rid of the writings and photos that are my only remaining link to them?

roller boogie

i finally was able to convince someone to go to adult night at the local roller rink. actually, i guess i was wasting time asking the wrong people. 'cause this dude just said, "cool, what time?"

it was the raddest thing ever. if you haven't been inside a roller-skating rink recently, trust me--they haven't changed. a bit. i think they're even still playing the same soundtrack as they did the last time i went. five years ago. no "november rain" during the couples skate, though. maybe that's just an east coast phenomenon.

complete timewarp. felt like i was fifteen again, hoping mom would be late with the minivan so i could scope out cute boys in the parking lot.

you know, they have a monthly rate there, too. i bet it's a great workout. and way more fun than any stupid gym. hmmmm....


p.s. it is surely time to say goodbye to my crush. he appeared a few days ago, rapid-fired some responses, then disappeared again. fuck him.

it's mynewbestfriend's birthday, ya'll!

jesus, it's been an entire year. i didn't post every day, mind you, but i think i did all right.

one whole year of all my crap, just sitting here...

i actually kept up a journal for an ENTIRE year. right on.

this occasion feels like it should be celebratory. so, if you're gonna be out bein' social and whatnot, and you have a drink in your hand, dedicate at least one sip to mynewbestfriend's ability to last a whole freaking year.

and cheers to you, too, my friend.

guess who

finally decided to make a return?

and guess what prompted him to get back in touch with me... he noticed i updated my profile on the dating website. HAH. he's absent for two weeks, then a little jealousy spurs him into stupid action. i only see two possibilities for this sudden turn:

1) he took my updated post to mean that i definitely don't have any serious intentions concerning him, and he feels safe to start up the casual banter again.

2) he's not quite ready to let me completely slip away, and is just making sure that the fire's still lit under the back burner where he has placed me.

fuck.

do i respond? can i respond right away, or should i wait? i hate waiting...it feels like a game. games are what got me here to begin with. fuck it. i'm responding right away. tell him i want to see him this week. if he doesn't follow through on that, then i'm movin' on. for sure. seriously. come on, don't look at me that way. i'm not kidding.

i'm such a little girl.

fo' shizzle.

haircut

yesterday i got a haircut at one of those cheapy, stripmall places. the small vietnamese man who was cutting my hair was trying to engage me in small talk by asking about my love life.

SVM: so, you have boyfriend?

me: well, no. i was kind of seeing someone, but that ended.

SVM: oh no. no good. what happen?

me: he kind of up and disappeared.

SVM: disappeared...?

me: yup, disappeared. suddenly stopped calling. i don't really know what happened.

SVM: [long pause] so...you date him, yes?

me: yes.

SVM: for a little while, yes?

me: yes.

SVM: and he just no call no more?

me: that's about the gist of it.

SVM: [long pause] so. he like you, he don't like you, but he no call?

me: no call. nothing.

SVM: wait... so he date you, many times, then he no call to tell you he no like you?

me: exactly.

SVM: [long pause] that is very strange...
SVM: ah! i understand...must be an american boy, yes?

sometimes stuff is pretty

but i'm still in a rotten mood.

pissed off about his new haircut

today is not a good day.

it's one of those days. it feels like my head isn't on straight.

i spent almost $300 on teeth repairs.

i'm about to pay a man $400 for car repairs.

it's friday the 13th. which i actually don't give a crap about, but it's just so perfect that it's this big superstitious day and it's sucking so fucking hard.

i'm depressed.

time has stopped. it has been 1437 for the last five hours, i swear. it will NEVER be 1700 again. EVER. i'm fairly certain that at 1459:59, it will all of the sudden be 759 on monday morning.

i have no plans for the weekend. not a one. this is my first non-busy weekend since the beginning of may. i should be excited. BUT of course i was planning on spending some quality non-busy time with dumbass. the fucker.

i think i'm depressed.

i need girlfriends. how does one acquire such things if one is not in school or at work for a place where there are any female peers? i don't have any real roots here; no branches of acquaintances from which to pick a social life.

god i could go for a good old fashioned girls' night out.

fuck. i just remembered that the place i took my car to, they wash it for you before you pick it up. which they goddamn better well do after sucking 400 of my hard-earned duckets. but that removes one time-wasting errand i was planning on using this weekend.

i thought about getting faded tonight and watching movies. but lately it's been less fun and more likely to make me feel like putting on sappy music and crying.

pop music is the bane of my current existence. it should be illegal for anyone who is nursing an even slightly bruised heart/ego to turn on the radio.

i want to go roller skating on adult night, at the actual RINK, in actual old-school quads, and pretend i'm a kid again. will you hold my hand during the couples skate? can we do the hokey pokey and laugh when i fall down?

i'm really not doing too good today. i can feel it burning and festering inside. i hope it stays at a simmer.

(and why, for cryin' out loud, is it STILL not 5pm?! i want answers!)

it's finally occurring to me

that i don't like the way he makes me feel.

and he obviously doesn't care about that. doesn't care that he's making me feel shitty.

why would i want to entertain the idea of keeping someone like that around? what is wrong with me that i still wish i could find the magic words to keep him from continuing to drift away?

what does that say about me?

say anything

I feel like the last straw to you. There was plan A, then B, and I'm C. I would be C. I'd be C if you ever called. And that's so embarrassing. I'm not ok with it, just so you know. And you probably aren't, either, but we've both reached that point. You know the one. You're lonely, I'm lonely, together we're somehow less lonely. This isn't the type of "relationship" where you play Peter Gabriel outside my window, or where painting my toenails is appreciated... but I'd do it anyway and that's so sad. That this is where I am. It's no lie. I really feel pathetic, but I needed to say so. Maybe to humiliate myself into realizing what I've been reduced to. I feel completely pathetic. It wouldn't be as bad if I didn't actually like you, but I do. I didn't want this kind of relationship. Relationship - used loosely. I actually wanted to date you - I liked you. Do like you. And so I'll just accept being plan C because it means that I still get to be around. And I'll lie to myself.

I'll lie to myself for this.

(originally posted by coffee for one. i liked it, and, obviously, can currently identify with it.)

true vegas

i was in las vegas for a few days to visit my folks. they're normally 3,000 miles away, and i figured it was the least i could do to take a day of work (yay!) and drive out to see them.

i was readying to leave town very early saturday morning, and finally saw some real vegas. keep in mind this was at six in the morning.

i leave the hotel, asking the parking lot attendant for directions to the nearest gas station. i desperately needed one close-by. i feared the fumes in my tank wouldn't even get me near the freeway.

it's just a block or two from the hotel, which was on fremont street. second only to the strip in its disneyland safety and appeal. i get out of the car and scan my surroundings:

1) a cop car with two officers inside is parked directly across the street.
2) there is a small crowd of people diagonally across the street.
3) a hooker is arguing with her pimp near a phone booth in the gas station parking lot.
4) a homeless-looking fellow holding a spray bottle is approaching me.

while i'm pumping gas, the following things happen in quick succession:

1) the cops pull their car forward, park crooked in the middle of the street, and begin engaging in a full-on "cops" moment involving the small crowd. people are searched, and cuffed, and told to lay down in the street or lean palm down on the rear of the car.

2) a trucker pulls into the gas station parking lot, stopping in the middle and not in a parking spot. he motions to the hooker, who immediately stops fighting with her pimp. she sway-hips her way over to the rig, stepping up to talk to him through the passenger side window. she smiles. it's clear he asks her a question. whatever it is, she steps back to enter the cab, then her head drops from view. the driver has one relaxed hand out the driver's side window, and suddenly leans his head back, his eyelids at half mast and a lovely smile on his face.

3) the fellow asks if he can wash my windows, which i'm already in the middle of doing, so i say, "no thank you." there are no other windows around for him to wash, so he makes small talk with me. comments on the reliability of hondas. asks if he can wipe down my hubcaps, because he's bored and the cleaner he has in his spray bottle is strong stuff. i admire the result, telling him that it is, in fact, strong stuff. i ask for directions to the freeway (which turn out to be wrong, but i imagine he doesn't drive around town much). i get my change from the gas station attendant. i give it to the fellow.

it was a nice chat. and my hubcaps look amazing.

one of the things

you really liked about me in the beginning was that i "seemed real honest with no traces of hardcore bullshit."

i only wish you had indicated at that time that, while i wasn't a bullshitter, you were the majority leader of the bullshit party.

i don't like today very much.

oh well.

after all, you can't like 'em all.

still...

...no call. no contact at all for that matter.

goddammit.

fuck.

fuck.

i realize now what a moron i am. but why with the lies? why does it always have to involve these little white lies that i constantly insist on believing?

why make the plans if you know you won't follow through? why say you'll call and then you don't?

i don't fucking get it. where are the real people...the people who don't hide behind little white lies, thinking they'll end up getting what they want? (the problem being, of course, that they often DO get exactly what they want. lucky little white-lying bastards.)

boys

why do i keep attracting such dumb boys? DUMB, i tell you. you'd think they were fifteen, the way they behave. oh yeah, to their friends, and on the first couple dates, they present this manly front. it doesn't take long, though, for them to start being complete fucking idiots.

why wouldn't you call? you bailed on our saturday night plans at the last minute. your reason was a decent one. i was disappointed and upset, yes, but not entirely angry. you said you wanted to make it up to me. "can i call you tomorrow so we can make plans for the next couple days?" of course i agreed, because there's nothing like a dumb boy to bring the stupid little girl out in me. and you did call. that was something.

of course, the phone call ended with the promise of an email to be sent the following day, starting the planning ball rolling. everyone already knows the answer to this one...

so no email. and no follow-up phone call. i'm trying to convince myself that perhaps you think that it is MY turn to make a move, since you called yesterday. that maybe you, too, are confused as to the lack of communication today. but it seems obvious to me that the ball is CLEARly in your court right now. to bounce or toss or to keep as you see fit.

you told me you didn't want me to think that you didn't want to see me. that you did very much want to see me.

i think you're lying.

because if you were telling the truth, wouldn't you be kissing my ass right about now? if you actually gave two shits, that is.

goodbye, jerry...

the memorial started at two. i arrived a few minutes late; luckily, the family is not known for its attention to time. my ex was outside, greeting people. when he saw me, our eyes locked and we slowly approached each other. we hugged. i started breaking down. he held my hand as we walked inside.

his brother-in-law greeted us inside. he seemed sincerely happy to see me and gave me a big hug. i cried some more. his sister smiled sadly in acknowledgment. a row of his friends were seated just inside the door. i sat down a few feet away from them, too choked up to say hello.

and i didn't know if i should. it is clear where loyalties lie in this divorce, and i didn't want to force someone into a conversation with the 'enemy'. not that this sort of event is ripe for confrontation; i just wanted to avoid making anyone feel awkward or uncomfortable.

i should have given his friends more credit back when they were a part of my life. one by one, they began to wander over and say hello. my ex's best friend went out of his way to include me at their table after the eulogy. people seemed honestly interested in catching up with me.

his sister's long-time boyfriend read the eulogy. it was fantastic. perfect. fitting. everyone was a wreck at the end. but...there was some happiness, too. it was jerry's time to go, and the eulogy made note of that. it also made note of the great life he led, and how lucky we all were to have shared a bit of it with him.

after the eulogy, my ex and i walked to his parent's home to visit my old mean cat. we chatted. we got that much closer to what i hope will eventually become a friendship. (that old cat is skinny, by the way. and much sweeter now. living with old folk agrees with him.)

i sat with his mother for a time. she told me she loved me, and that she hoped we could stay in touch. i told her the same. we both were a little overcome. she is a very strong woman, and was full of love and support for everyone else there, even though she's the one who feels the loss the most deeply.

it was an emotionally draining day. my ex walked me out to my car and we hugged goodbye. he held my hand for awhile, stroking it while telling me how strange everything felt. i couldn't help but be reminded of 'high fidelity'. but we are not in a place to be able to strike awkwardness away with physicality. he's a good man. i truly hope he finds what he deserves soon with a woman more suited for him.

saturday was the hardest day i've had in a while. but it was totally worth it.