Guy's Girl.

I was on the phone with Flower Guy last night after a long day at work in our Madison office. We talked about his work, my day, his friends, his travels, my travels and my friends.

"You seem to have a lot of male friends." he said, "You seem like you're a guys girl, the sports, the humor, everything."

"Yup. Just prefer them I guess, I have female friends too - just not as many close ones." I quipped back.

"So I want to ask you a question, but I'm not sure I want to know the answer or that you want to give me the answer."

"Shoot, I'm an open book."

"How many of them have you been with?"

That's a variation question, it's a lead into the inevitable - how many people have you been with question, but this one even has a bit more sting. Do I tell the truth? If I do, how do I justify it?

And then it dawns on me, the truth is the best response. If he would ever meet them I wouldn't want our huggy natures to be confused with potential cheating, so I answered honestly.

"#1 is my best friend, he's also my ex."

"JF is one of my closest friends, we've made out on occasion"

"Passive aggressive is a great friend, we've made out, but nothing more."

"Admin works with me and I offer to make out with him, he just turns me down."

Silence. Here's where I wonder if I mention RS and I justify that we aren't actually friends, so he doesn't count. Plus he's never been brought up in a conversation.

Still silence, which means I ramble on and on trying to justify it. "I'm one of those people that believes in connections, so whether or not we've ever done anything isn't an issue, it's did we connect - if we did, then they stay. If we didn't - then they go." More rambling, "I mean, I'm not a whore or anything." More silence. "Can you throw me a bone here? I'm rambling and the silence is killing me."

"I'm just listening, it's interesting." He says.

Then we switched subjects, thank god, and went back to Saturday plans.

Bowling Redux.

I'm typing in that hung over, God - why did I do that? state right now. Last night was bowling, which means drinking, smoking and making out. Check, check and check!

Last week I was sober and bowled a mere 54, my team begged me to please drink this week and drinking I did. My score upped to a wonderful 121, good enough for advertising bowling. I also happened to bowl next to Mr. Passive Aggressive from last year and engaged in some witty banter for awhile. My text phone rang from 2 pursuers, and my flirting got higher and higher with my alcohol intake.

And then it happened. I'm not 100% sure how, but there was some smooching with Mr. Passive Aggressive and I forgot what a great kisser he was. I sobered up, left with him (but not LEFT with him), kissed good bye and went home to bed.

In the meantime it seems I've over committed myself once again to engagements, not to Flower Guy's pleasant surprise. I had thought we reschedule our Saturday to Friday, but it was his understanding that I scheduled two dates with him and not just one. Yikes. This didn't go over to well when he finally said, "I don't know how I'm ever going to fit into your world."

My response, "It's your decision - but for three years my work, family and friends have been my world and I just met you, so you don't get priority. You can ease into my world and then you'll become one too."

Not sure how that really set, but now he's getting on my nerves. I know relationships are compromises, but when you first meet you can not compromise who you are and what your life is. Plus he always wants me out there - in Racine. 45 minutes away. Kiss my ass buddy.

What did you do at work today?

Here's what I did!



I love my job.

See how it goes.

Anyone that knows me knows can assure you I’m never at a loss for words, during those awkward moments of silence I’ll bust out something that has nothing to do with anything or use my favorite saying of “so…” but the new guy caught me off guard.

He called after work, I answered and we chatted a bit about the normal get to know you things – how many kids, family married or single, his divorce and our weekend plans. He asked me to spend the night on Saturday, I said I would think about it but I needed to be straight about something – there would be no sex. Which of course led to the sex conversation.

MG: “I’ll be straight with you, there’s no sex until I see test results and I’ll do the same for you.”

NG: “Okay?”

MG: “When you’re in those moments of passion and there’s no condom, I want to know that I’ll be safe – I’m not saying it’ll be done with out a condom, it’s just what I think.”

NG: “I got tested three months ago and haven’t had sex since May.”

MG: “I got tested in August, but we both will need to get tested again – piece of mind.”

NG: “When was the last time you had sex?”

MG: “Doesn’t matter, the test needs to be done.”

Which led into further conversation, one that involved him saying, “While we’re being straight, I’m not looking to just casually date you – I mean, I go into this full force – I want you to be my girlfriend.”

Which leads me back to the first paragraph, the moment that hit my ear a gigantic lump occurred in my throat – the kind that you choke on, you can’t swallow, you can’t talk, you can’t breathe. You just think to yourself, “at this very moment I could die – a really painful, slow death.”

“Is that what you want?”

“We’ll see how this goes. I mean, we just met – you could hate my guts after Saturday.” Diversion, still lump, cough. Still there.

And then went on with normal conversation, but in the back of my head that one sentence – I want you to be my girlfriend – was burnt into my head.

For three years my life hasn’t really circulated around the thought of an “us” or a “we.” Granted, there were small interruptions in the case of CB and somewhat of RS, but never a serious mention on anyone’s part but me. For three years it’s been me, my schedule, what I want to do, when I want to do it. If I feel like having sex, I’ll drive to Madison. If I feel like staying home by myself, taking a bath and listening to girl music, I’ll do it. If I wake up at 7am and decide I’m not going to talk to anyone, I turn off my phone and stay home without anyone knowing the difference. I haven’t had to worry so much about hurt feelings, making time, doing special things, driving to someone else’s place, being their dates at events, meeting parents, making a good impression. Nothing. If this goes somewhere, am I willing to give up all of that for something that could go nowhere?

New Guy.

Okay, scary - but I might actually want to date someone. I met this DJ on Saturday night who is amazingly cute and very sweet - and I got flowers today! It's just a wow, what am I going to do sensation...

Are we ready?

Back in college I did a study on American views for a media class. It was during election time and numerous reports stated that American citizens preferred married, white, Christian (protestants held the number one spot) men who had served some time in a branch of the US Military. That was about 6 years ago - are we ready to change those views?

As many know, Hilary Clinton has decided to run for the Democratic party and also Barack Obama from Illinois. I think both are viable candidates and I believe they should run together. But then, we'll change years and years of history with just the coloring in of an arrow or the punching of a chit. Not only will it be the first female in office, but also the first African American.

All I have to say to this is that I think it might be time, if we stick with what was bargained for six years ago, we get George W. it's time for some Democratic change!

On-line Dating.

I would have to say that on-line dating isn't really helping with finding a boyfriend, but it is positioning me on what I don't want ...

Here's a small list.

I don't want to be with someone:

- Who has hick-characteristics. Congrats on liking Nascar and driving a truck, that just doesn't fit into my world.

- Do not proposition me for sex before even seeing me. Seriously? Seriously!

- Intellectual conversation can take you to point A, but real conversation will get you to B and then to C, which is the place where I take my shirt off.

- Don't be mad at me because I have talked to you for only 6 hours on the phone (at one crack!) - that's a lot of talking time! Especially when you don't participate that much.

- Ask about me, I like to talk but I need you to fill in akward pauses.

- Looks do count. I admit it. Funny guys can override looks, but not so much on-line.

- If you haven't met me, you can't stalk me. I don't want to talk to someone every hour of every day, especially during the work day!

Why phones were invented.

Let's be honest, I'm not quite the innocent girl. I've ventured into a couple of adventurous sexual experience - I was an soft porn photographer for godsake. But I never ventured into the phone area until two days ago.

With my recent cut-off from Madison, a girl can feel a little lonely at times and her own imagination can only take her so far. After text prompting, I made a phone call and engaged in some long distance attraction. Impeccably mind blowing I might add. I didn't have the balls enough to pull out electric devices, but sometimes the fingers can do the walking especially when the person on the other end tells them exactly where to walk.

Worst pick up line - ever.

Gentleman please note this post.

When you see a girl at a bar who engages in talk with you, do not use the line "I gotta tell you - I have a girlfriend, but ..." Here's your first mistake. You've referenced your girlfriend, but maybe you'll get lucky and a chick will still dig what you're about to say ... But then you add, "you're giving me such a chubby."

Honestly the first part isn't quite as bad as the second part. What are you, just into puberty? Because there are many other words that might actually make the first part the bad part.

Ah. Bowling.

So last night was a double team event, first I had one from 6-8:30, which meant not actually participating in bowling but still showing up after to join in the festivities of drinking and socializing.

The thing about our little league is that there aren't that many good bowlers, it's just an excuse for 60 some people in advertising to get drunk, smoke and hook up with other people in advertising for one night. I participated in all three categories last year, but didn't actually end up going home with one of the participants ever - just seeing him. He's a nice, tall red head that has a mean passive aggressive spark to him which is why it didn't work (see birthday post).

Last night I sauntered in to the bowling alley, dolled up in an ivory dress and my 5" leopard heels and did my rounds of socializing, making sure it was apparent that I was there but not saying anything quite yet to him. Finally after half an hour of waiting, I just came up to him. He turns to me and says, "I have been drooling for the last 1/2 hour since you walked in over you."

Little sayings like this make me question why I'm not dating him. I try to remind myself that he uses the phrases "like" and "dude" a little too much for me and that he has that PA streak, but still he has a lot to offer.

Of course, at the same time there's BG that will be there every week and the dating site has led to a cute interaction again. I had decided to be good and to not multi-date anymore, but with these options it's going to be hard to resist.

Just Do It.

After reviewing my social life with some of my random friends the same message kept coming across, "You're always chasing, never being chased." Which is completely true, I'm the type of person that sets my sights on something and gets it. The last couple of weeks, I've withdrawn a bit and decided I wouldn't chase anymore.

Until today. I thought the best thing to do to get over RS was to simply start seeing someone here in Milwaukee, because I'm not sure I want to date anyone in my industry (the people that I am social with every time I'm social) I signed up for a personal website that some friends have had great success with. I've been sitting back silently watching to see who would get a hold of me and needless to say, none have been quality. You can see who has looked at your profile though, and there is one guy that I kept praying would actually contact me. Well it hasn't happened, so I decided to screw the rule of sitting back and sent him a message. Why not just do it?

End of Story?

I was working away, filling out cards to tell clients that we were so proud of their accomplishment on making the 2007 Book of Lists when my computer made a weird dinging sound. I looked up as my iChat perched at me to either approve or deny a message from RS.

What could it hurt to see what he had to say? Approve. “In Madison or Milwaukee?” It asked me. He’s just not into you I thought, but still found my hands to the keyboard to type, “Madison, why?” I lied.

For the next hour we bantered a bit back and forth but I never said that I’d go up there. I gave him the opportunity to make the trip down to Milwaukee saying that I had a meeting at 3:00 and didn’t feel like driving up to Madison to turn around drive home and drive up the next day (I’m in Madison until Thursday, with trips to Milwaukee in between – or at least was supposed to be, but instead am just going up Thursday). To which he didn’t bite. It dawned on me that the gentleman thing to do would have been to ask me to come up, stay the night and drive the next day, but of course it wasn’t said. Reason? He’s into having sex with me, he’s just not that into me.

So I’m at home, about to draw a bath and prepare for a big event tomorrow, typing up my blog and smiling to myself that the addiction is broken. Hey – if you’re not into me, you’re not worth fucking me. End of story – period.

Just not into you.

So after shuffling through old items yesterday, I stopped over at the local Home Depot and picked up some wood, some pain and some nails, bound and determined to make a lovely set of shelves for my living room.

As I cozied up to paint I popped in STC as part of my normal weekend routine, season 6. I laid out paper and the wood and began to paint as Carrie began to dater Berger. As the first coat was drying and my hands, arms and face were covered in black and red paint, Miranda spoke about her date with another lawyer who hadn’t called in two days. She asked Berger what he thought he meant and he told her that he just wasn’t into her and explained that if a guy wants to come up, meeting or not, if he likes you – he will. I can’t believe I forgot about that bestseller book from years ago that was collecting dust … in some box. I continued to paint and smiled to myself, the easiest advice that makes life so simple and I forgot about it.

Well, tonight I put on another coat of paint and assembled my very own, homemade media center (it was supposed to be a shoe rack, but the holes weren’t big enough – eh, you win some you lose some) only to find that I scratched the paint off the wood in a couple of different spots. I began to search for a new paint brush (I was also lazy last night and didn’t clean them, thinking they were only a buck, I’d buy more) and as I rummaged through my craft box for a thin brush I found it – the book.

The pink and black item that, while grossly over priced – especially at the time I bought it, offered the easiest point of advice … if he doesn’t call, email, write; if he doesn’t linger or the relationship ends and he’s still having sex with you after no comment of re-commitment, it means, plain and simply, he’s just not that into you. Ding, ding.

Saturday night was now explained, RS was now explained, and even in later arguments of the ever allusive CB was explained, when it comes down to it – they weren’t that into me.

I try not to be a game player at all, but I realized I need to stop the chase – I’m always into them. The next guy will be the one to call, to ask me out, to do all the things that classy love affairs include – end of story.

Old Stuff.

On Sunday I went over to my dad’s to finish cleaning up the bits of my life that remained strewed about his basement. I had lived with out these things for four months, so in reality, I probably should have blind folded myself and thrown it all out – but instead I spent three hours going through plastic containers that reminded me of old things.

There were pictures of me and my best friend Rachel who moved home to Australia years back, we were so happy then. She was in a crappy marriage, I was 19 and 20 so we pretty much got drunk at either of our houses after work. We shopped, we ate, it was great. Then there was picture of Di and me from our wild crazy summer that made me smile and ache all at the same time. As I continued to dig the pictures got older – there was pictures of exes, both good and bad, pictures of old vacations. I could spend hours looking through the box full of the memories, but I stopped when I realized that it was all in the past. I kept a handful of them and threw the rest out.

Then there was the lock box that I kept, that didn’t actually lock and I had no clue where the key actually was. Inside the box were more random memories, so I tossed them. I decided that it was time to stop relying on my past and keep it where it should be, only in my head, to disrupt my daily routine.

I finally narrowed down my crates of belongings into 10 garbage bags and three containers. As I drove back to my flat, I decided that it was good that all the old stuff was going away and that today would be the start of a brand new me.

Friend to BOYfriend?

This weekend was quite … not sure the words for it.

In normal fashion, I met out a couple friends for lunch, drank a bit too much and passed out – but not before making a drunk dial to BG, who – also in normal fashion – didn’t pick up.

Later that night I met an old friend out for another cocktail. We sat and joked like normal, but then the liquor hit a bit too hard and he said what every girl has wanted a good-looking guy to say to her, “I can’t believe you’re single. You’re so beautiful, so kind, you’re so the girl that every guy wants to marry and have a family with. I don’t know how else to say this, but for the past two years I’ve been in love with you.”

I choked back my Bud Light a little bit and took a deep breath and wondered what the right answer was to the question. I could kick myself, he’d be a great boyfriend – but he’s an even better friend. Should I take the chance or should I just be content in what I have. I grabbed his hand, smiled and said, “Wow. Okay.”

He looked like a kicked puppy, apparently this was not the right answer. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t actually say that I wanted to go out with him and be with him. If I did, I would be lying and I would hurt our friendship. I tried to make it up, “No, I mean, I love you too.” Apparently this at least inched my foot away from his balls a bit as the pain seemed to subside.

We left the bar and hugged. I walked home in the crisp night, too many things reeling through my head at the given moment. I wanted clarity, but I couldn’t get it and now I didn’t know even how to get it.

In the past when things arose I just rang up Madison – I’d have sex, I’d drive home and think that what happened was exactly what I wanted. Now I couldn’t even seek the guidance of a good lay because I am done with being blown off.

I laid in bed for the next two hours, barely sleeping and waking again for the rest of the night. Finally in the morning I took a bath, my cat sat on the edge purring and I thought to myself that I would be completely content being with him and perhaps that would be exactly what I would need to get over RS.

Waiting until 10, I picked up the phone and called him. He drearily woke up, “Morning babe.” I smiled. “Hey, wanted to chat with you” I said. “Last night.” He choked. “Yeah, last night. What you said to me was great, and I’ve thought about it …”

“MG?” He stopped me, my heart sank because I knew where this was going, “Yeah babe.” He cleared his throat. “I had a bit too much to drink, I think we both know that we wouldn’t work.” Awkward silence.

“I don’t agree. We’ve been great friends and I think that …” I started.

“No. I don’t think that. I was just trying to sleep with you. This isn’t going to affect our friendship right?”

“Of course not, I mean – who do you think I am? You know me.” I uttered back, my heart was in my stomach. I didn’t even know how to fix this. “So how are you this morning?”

“Tired. I’m going back to bed – I’ll call you later.” And he never did.

I gotta get cable.

I think it’s really easy for us to judge other people on their behaviors and actions and criticize them for their mistakes; however, this is life.

That being said. Fuck George W. Bush. I try to make this blog about my life and not about politics or religion, but fuck him – and if you don’t agree let me reiterate that this blog is about me and my decisions, I’ve decided to not back him. On New Years I was at my dad’s and watched the names of Wisconsin soldiers who died the past year scroll across the screen. Two things hit me, the first being that these were just kids. The screen replayed over and over, 22 years old, 21 years old, 20 years old, 23 years old. These are young adults that went to war for our country, to be a hero, and they were taken away. The second thing that hit me was just thinking about how many of those people that didn’t die are so messed up. My sister’s ex-husband is psychotic, often threatening to kill himself or her when he returned from the war. Granted, part of this is just him but I’m sure the fact that he wielded a gun for 4 years and saw people, both supposed “enemies” and countrymen die, had a little something to do with it. Her current boyfriend, also a former Marine in Iraq is more stable but still wakes up to nightmares. He won’t discuss how many people he killed or how many people he saw die.

And then there’s a kid from my high school that is standing trial for a murder allegedly committed by him and 2 other fellow soldiers. He’s 21. He has a 2 year old daughter. He was one of those kids in school who never ruffled the water. When it became news that he, of all people, was coming back to the states to face the charges we were a small town in shock. At this point I look at George W. Bush and can’t help but blame him, this kid could have grown into a fine young man, had a fine family, had a life – but his service to his country cost him everything. Yes, it was a decision he made to join, but life could have been so different.

So send 21,500 more of our young men and women to war, but know one thing – the majority of American citizens don’t look at these veterans as heroes, they look at them as poor people that have lived their short lives fighting a war that they didn’t belong in. Or look at them as young bodies in cold wooden caskets, and go to bed every night knowing that your daughters are fine but you’ve ruined other people’s lives.

That being said. I need to get cable so I'm not faced with the decision of watching the presidential debate, One Tree Hill or the Antique Road Show.

Times are a Changing

I didn’t wear a winter jacket all last week. It was 50-60 degrees, the air wet and warm. A cozy sweater turtleneck and a pair of heels. Just how I like it. This morning I woke up at 8 and headed to my back porch for a crisp morning smoke. There was frost every where. I sighed as I went back inside. Times are a changing.

I balled myself up on my couch, looking at my dirty livingroom and bedroom floor and curled up to my favorite weekend past time, Sex in the City marathon. All through season 2 I contemplated life like it was 3 years ago, when I had my girl here and our lives patrolled around laying out by the pool, working and meeting boys at the bar. Those were the times, she lived in the same apartment places and was just a walk down the parking lot, we had so much fun.

Now she's in Iowa, married with a gorgeous daughter and contemplating single life again and I'm still in Wisconsin, working like a dog and contemplating how times have changed.

As I entered season 3, I snuck out to my back porch in my tshirt and yoga pants and invited the cat into the mid-morning outdoors. Now the frost had melted.

By near end of season 3, it was getting cold again as I bundled up in my robe and checked my phone, silent.

The night before I was drunk and texted messaged RS, stupidly. At first it was promising, then it demised right around the same time Carrie stopped seeing Big at the beginning of season 2. The last message from him explained he'd be spending the night at his parents, I responded with not even a word, "K" and went to bed. Here it was, now 8:00 and I had heard nothing. At this same point, Carrie's affair was finally admitted to Aidan and she was alone. It dawned on me, I didn't want to be alone.

I finished up the season and was wide awake at 11:00. I took a shower. I'm not sure if it was because the water was hot but a twing hit my head and I felt like I wanted to cry.

I can count the number of times I've cried in my life on two hands, what was happening to me? I arched my head back into the warm water and the pain subsided for the moment as I scrubbed up and cuddled back in my robe.

When I woke up this morning I looked at my apartment, my closet was pure perfection from organization and Good Will would be happy with my current donation. I put on that old pair of jeans I found at the bottom of a box and put on my heels to another day.

As I straightened my hair and applied lip gloss and mascara I realized that my new year's resolutions are all wrong. It's time to stop pretending and bending over for everyone else - because when you're always in that position you're going to, of course, get fucked in the ass. It was time to take charge of myself and start living to make me happy. Those plans don't include RS right now, they don't include spending more time with my family or dressing nicer, they include learning to say no. The hardest part for an addict. The conclusion is, I guess, that that's what I am.

As I walked out of my apartment into the cold air, I snuggled my scarf and slowly wondered if I should go back inside and get my jacket. Nah, I thought, it'll be warm by noon.

Ponder.

Obviously the majority of people don't think the RS situation is good, I called JF to see his opinion, and it turns out every one is sick of the story. So I called the one person who I knew I could vent to and who would give me the advice I need.

"Let me vent." I started and explained that the conversation with RS was a miscommunication and I drove to Madison to have sex. Then, in her true fashion she says to me the one thing that really kicks, "Hey, if you spend your life making others happy the one guarantee you have is what?" I blankly stood silent on the other end, not really sure of the response, I wanted to say "Other people happy?" but I knew that wasn't right, "You guarantee you'll be miserable." Hmmm.

Things to ponder. Why am I driving to Madison? Is it for him? No, it actually isn't. I go because I want to get off. I go because I like the time, I go because I, me, this person typing, wants to. I don't go because I'm afraid he'll never call, I go because I don't want to say no. So am I doing this one little thing to make myself happy? The sex part does, yes and it is for me. The heart wrenching, what is happening doesn't make me happy though. Catch 22.

A Woman and Her Numbers.

So a comment by JBS got me thinking, he wondered why I would drive so far for so little and I started thinking about it.

Primary response is, while temperamental he is, I do cum - multiple times with him and if he can't provide it through regular means, he'll get me there with other ways. But really, I could find that in Milwaukee. So why do I?

I guess a lot of it has to do with numbers. A friend and I were talking 2 years ago at a bar when I started to mess around with #1 again, "Why do girls mess with their exes? I don't understand the philosophy." My response, it's a matter of numbers baby. I will "reuse" people so that my number of partners doesn't go up. I'm not sure why really, but I know what I'm going to get and I don't ever have to blurt out a huge number. In honesty, my number is 6. It was really uncomfortable having filled a hand and switch to another one, granted I've been having sex for 12 years now and it's not really that big of a number for that amount of years, but it's still weird to think about.

I'm not saying that I don't know people whose numbers are way higher than that and that I think less of them, it's their comfort level and their prerogative - it's just not mine to have it be that large.

Out of the six, I still talk to two people that I've had sex with - #1 and RS. #1 is now in a relationship, which takes that relationship off the shelf, so it leaves me with a decision to up my number for the sake of sex or go with what I know - that's how I justify my trips to Madison.

But it's just not sex numbers that a woman guards. Someone women won't reveal their age, their weight, their size. I mean it's just a thing with us and numbers I guess!

5 days in, Resolutions blown.

I will be classier. I said. I will take time for me - to the gym over the lunch hour! I said. I will stop the affair. I said.

Five days in and I've gone to the gym twice over lunch, still packed in 28 hours in 3 days, and couldn't find the spine to say no to dinner with my mom because I'm exhausted (I'll get to that point in a second).

And because I'm exhausted, I went to work in jeans, tennis shoes, a sweater and a baseball cap. I didn't even shower. That's not classy at all.

And I'm exhausted because (if you couldn't tell from the last post) I went to Madison last night. As I drove I told myself it was the last time, so what if it was just one more? I can walk away after this. It's like his dick is meth or crack (which isn't funny I know, but damn that thing packs a punch). I tried, I really did, not to go - but he draws me in like a moth to a flame.

Sex, sex, sex. It's all I was thinking about. The kissing, the cold wall with my warm body against it, the groping and ripping off of clothes. I spent Wednesday night trying to calm my nerves myself, and after an hour and a half I just gave up. Then the texting started yesterday.

Everything was telling me not to do it - a friend called me about a class at 8:00, so I'm bantering over text while trying to rearrange our schedules. Then I agreed to go, his roommate was headed out for the night, and I get a call from my dad's girlfriend freaking out that she hadn't heard from him (he has shingles and got diagnosed with a bad infection) and she wanted me to see if he was okay (my brother and sister live next door, I live 1/2 an hour away - why me?) so I'm calling my brother trying to get him to go next door and see, all while blow drying my hair and putting on clothes after my angry-girl bath. At 9:40 I call my brother back, he hadn't even gone over yet! I insisted he go there now and paced the floor for another 10 minutes, then - giving up, I got in my car and started to drive to Madison. My sister called shortly after to say all was fine, I called his girlfriend back, to which she promptly told me that he had called after she got off the phone with me (an hour and a half earlier than the conversation we were having I might add). 1/2 way to Madison, the exits were closed due to a bus turnover, I got lost but still found my way back to the express way.

I arrived at 10:50, got naked, got off and he had an "IT" episode three times. I assured him it was nothing, he looked apologetic. I tried to leave and he grabbed me close. We talked like we normally did. Nothing was different, I was still confused.

So much for those resolutions - hey, there's always next week. And Darth, no talk back - I read your post on resolutions! :)

When IT happens

Here’s a post for all you guys on when “IT” happens – you know your hitting it hard and heavy and suddenly go limp, or she’s naked kissing up on you and you can’t get it hard. Now, this is alcohol besides, because women totally understand the “Whiskey Dick” as my fellow friends have entitled it – either it won’t come down or it won’t go up – this is for that straight in the moment times.

She will tell you, “it’s not a big deal” and “really it’s okay” as you make excuses from, “I have a lot on my mind” to “this never happens.” But how about whether it is a big deal or whether it really is okay?

I’ve had this conversation with a couple of my friends… the first time it happens ever to a girl they do ask their other female friends if it’s normal – to which the girls normally reply that it happens. But what is she thinking? I can tell you that I say those things, but really I’m doing it to ease your ego. Because, to me, it’s not okay and it is a big deal.

I like it when a guy cums, for 10 minutes or so he’s sensitive to touch, rendered useless except to lie there in your combined sweat and breathe. Sometimes they even become more truthful – ask them any question and they non-chalantly reply.

I usually blow it off the first time and try to get you going again. If it happens again, or continually, we do wonder if we’re not attractive enough, tight enough, shaved enough, good in bed enough, etc. but we don’t want to ask those things because it may be just other things going on and we don’t want to hurt your feelings.

The first time it happened to me with RS I was in shock, I told him it was okay and not to worry. He still did. The second time it happened, I told him that I was a little bugged since it had so recently happened before hand, he explained everything on his mind. Then there was the time it happened when we were screwing at my place which lacks doors and therefore the cat felt the need to walk between his legs and purr, performance anxiety. And then there was the last time when he toyed with me to go to Madison after he found out his roommate would be out for a couple hours. I came twice, but he kept losing his hard. At one point he explained that the bed squeaked too much, I told him to lie on the floor then. When he couldn’t get it up I told him it was really okay, I had cum so it was worth my drive, he explained that he doesn’t like to hear people have sex and he was paranoid his roommate would come home. I jokingly grabbed my clothes and said, “Because then you would have to explain what you were doing, or with who?” He looked down at the ground and said, “That’s not it at all. I just don’t want him to hear the bed or you moaning. It’s definitely not that I don’t want him to know.” Then he muttered something about religion and I left.

Hope that helps - but don't get paranoid, have a legitimate explanation.

Sex.

Why, oh why does the thought of sex take up so much time in my day? They say men think about it all the time and now I know how they feel. I'll catch a smell, I'll see a great butt walking down the street and it's all I think about.

So I've been listening to angry girl music. Angry girl music rocks.

The Fire House

Last night I joined a friend for a co-workers going away party at the new location of “The Firehouse” in Milwaukee off of 35th Street and Forest Home. After a couple of cocktails it dawned on me that the new me might not be good for business. In this industry (Advertising) people are surrounded with fake things - images, taglines, articles – that they don’t want their extra time being filled with more fake things. It’s hard enough to take the cat by the horns and believe things that come out of people’s mouths than to be filled with more fake people.

I was me, in a bit better garb, and it worked just fine. In front of me stood what we like to call “The Whales” – the big catches with lots of people and lots of money, and while I appeared professional the cocktails in my system didn’t make everything I said necessarily that way. And it worked.

Me in nicer clothes may be all the classy I need.

When do we stop being fake?

My New Years resolution – to be more classy. As it was pointed out, it’s not like I’m trashy or anything. Yes, I know and understand this. And as I get ready to go out tonight, I think to myself, “When do we stop being fake?”

This comes to my attention as I’m looking for the bra that makes me look like I have the perfect 36Cs and not the actual ones hanging from my chest. The one that gives me the perfect cleavage and sits correctly on my shoulders with out back fat or hang overs.

When I found the tan bra with the maroon accents and put on the underwear that sucks my belly in just a little bit and then put on the boots that make me look 3 inches taller than I actually am while not being slutty.

This fascinating question dawns on me while I’m applying the eye shadow that makes the tiny speckles of blue in my green eyes stand out and as I’m applying the mascara that lengthens my short lashes.

As I flat iron my wavy blonde hair, noticing my roots are already starting to show and people will now know that I wasn’t born with amazing blonde hair with light brown accents. As I line my lips, just above the line to make them bigger and right after I applied the plumping lip gloss.

As I do the dip and tuck to help out the bra and fasten the zipper on the boots I wonder if I look classy. What I realize is that classy is not fake. And while I do plan on toning it down this year (I did well, except for the wood comment at work …) I also remember I can’t forget who I am.

This comes as I ponder a relationship with an ex. I posted once “Exes are Ex’s for a reason” and preach it to Di as she deals with her divorce yet here I am, afraid to be alone in this world that I am considering it. Funny how an email finally reminded me he’s a bit on the passive aggressive side. “she was really cool & cute too. Oh well, such is life with my luck I guess,” he writes in discussing what happened at my birthday last week. A slight, undertone to what I did to him just 10 months ago.

JF and I talked after my birthday last Wednesday, “Don’t get into a relationship just because everyone else is. That’s not you. You’re great. Get into a relationship because that’s what’s good for you, that you really connected with someone.” He gets me, I don’t understand how because I try so hard to be someone I’m not at times. “Are you okay?” He asks me after I tell him RS just cut ties, “Yeah, I am. It was just sex.” I respond. “I know you think you need to be tough, but not with me MG, not with me.” “It sucks” I tell him.

And it does. It does because he knows how I feel, how I’ve felt for 4 years, that’s why I’m his go to. When things aren’t peachy keen in Madison, it’s a phone or a text and a “Hey, what are you wearing?” and I’m on the road and at his door. It sucks because I want him to be the nice girl that he appeared to be, that he appears to be. The poor 36 year old guy that loves his family and has had his heart broken too many times. The poor guy that just wants to hold someone. The truth is – he is that guy, just not with me. It sucks that I’m not good enough. That I’ve never been good enough for anyone. My first “real” boyfriend told me when I called off the engagement, “You’ll never find anyone to love you. You were lucky I pretended.” The last three guys haven’t even been straight, some part of me thinks I turned them, but the reality is I don’t believe in that – you’re born that way.
I’m a fixer. I put energy into fixing broken things, like lights and paneling and gas stoves. Like businesses that need more work, friends that need to be near someone to love them and take care of them, boyfriends and lovers that are eternally broken and need the right path. Then it disappears, the lights turn on with a flip of the switch, the paneling no longer squeaks when you walk on it, the gas oven turns on. The friends get on their feet and find boyfriends and girlfriends, the boyfriends and lovers finally get the self esteem and leave to do better.

That’s why I am alone, too many broken irons in the fire and every time I fix one – it seems to get sold.

But that’s who I am, that’s not fake. What’s fake is that I pretend it doesn’t hurt. So I’ve adjusted my breasts, buckled and zipped my boots, re-plumped my lips, grabbed my fake Fendi and I jump into the car of one of my friends that doesn’t need fixing – the one thing out of everything right now that isn’t fake.

So Starts the New Year

On January 1st I went to the grocery store and purchased a Mt. Dew on my way out. I always down one of the 20 oz bottles and it tells me every 6th one wins, though none ever do. I get in the car, take a breath, twist "BUY ONE GET ONE" - the new year is starting to look up!

It's 2007

2006 did not end so well. On the 30th, I texted RS. I figured that if I was going to behave in 2007, might as well misbehave up until that point - except I got shot down. Turns out ending the affair will be more on his part then mine. So I deleted him from every aspect of my electronic life.

I went by E & J's for the game (Pack vs Bears - Pack won) and left at 11:00, cozied up with the cat around 11:30 and fell asleep at 12:10, after an empty inbox told me that everyone was too busy to wish a poor girl at home alone a New Year (yes, that's a pity party for me).

On Monday, went by the family to celebrate my older brother's birthday and dorked around with my niece on my back as her horse, on my shoulders. I forgot what it was like to spend time with her. We ate chocolate cake and ice cream and freaked her out when my brother invited her to blow out the candles on his cake and they re-lit themselves (oh we are so funny).

Tuesday I worked a bit even though we had off of work, cleaned my kitchen and decided that I would repaint it myself since it's been 4 months since I took the place and I was still awaiting the landlord's to finish it.

And today is Wednesday, we'll see what the new year brings.

In the times of the New Year

Resolutions. Are you going with the “I’ll never make a resolution” or are you going with the “Happier relationships, lose weight, work harder, save more money?” I can’t resist.

Every year I feel like the plate is wiped clean, after all I’ve gone the last three years without anything holding me back. No lease, no boyfriend. I could get up and leave without a second glance. I see it as a chance as renewal, a chance of forgiveness, a chance of re-inventing.

That’s what the Phoenix is about. That’s why it’s on my back. Now with it’s revamping, I feel like I should revamp myself again. I’m not miserable in my current life, but as we all feel, we could always adjust certain things.

Maybe it’s not a resolution but a re-inventation but here’s the changes I’d like to see in myself during 2007.

Most importantly. I will be classier. The last few years I’ve been more Samantha than Charlotte (yes that’s an STC reference) and I’ve come to realize that Charlotte is not a bad person, apparently naïve but completely classy. I will swear less, I will wear dresses more, I will wear heels and I will be different. When I walk down the street they will say that I’m classy, not trashy. My chest will be covered, my calves will shine in expensive shoes. My hair will be long, my eyes will shine. My hair will be done, my make up on.

Secondly, I will take time for myself. I’m a workaholic, classic Capricorn. My job has always been my family, I’ve lived and breathed it. I couldn’t live without access to email on the weekends or constant cell phone interaction. I will turn it off one day a week so clients, family and friends can’t access me. I’ll sit in the tub and clean my house, I’ll go to the gym and watch cheesy movies. I might even go on a date.

Lastly, I will stop the affair. Men are ridiculous because I’m a phenomenal catch. I’ve been using my Madison trips as an excuse to convince myself I’m not ready for a relationship, when in fact I’m actually in one. I’ve tried to position myself as this renegade, open to a casual relationship when the truth is – even if it’s just sex, I deserve at least a Happy Birthday text message or IM. I’ve already made the first step and registered on Yahoo Personals. The men in my industry are notoriously womanizers and I don’t want to shop talk.

This made me cry.

Stolen from postsecret.blogspot.com

Sometimes we forget that the holidays isn't about us. This made my eyes welt and took my breath away for a second. It makes me want to know who sent it and just hug them :(

Birthday Recap

So the official recap - December 27 saw inking, drinking, hooking up and hanging over. Not all of them were me though.

Inking - yup. Got that addition that I've been wanting. 3 hours in the chair and only one really deep cut, my phoenix is now rising from the ashes. I can't wait to get naked and show the next person I'm with - it turned out great.



As for drinking, with all the people that showed up, I spent more time making rounds than drinking (which was fine since I got so trashed the night before ...). With only 4 beers and one birthday shot, I hugged and smiled all the guests. One of the guests was an ex that I was seeing earlier last year and toying with the idea of dating again. When he showed up I was very happy - except a friend of mine also expressed interest and I reluctantly agreed to help with the set up. So they were the hooking up.

When it came to being hung over - that was most of the participants! Nice thing about not drinking too much!!

Mid-Holiday

We're currently in the mid-Holiday week, what fun! Christmas and my birthday have passed, and now it's just time for New Years.

Though I despise my birthday, this year it was pretty great. On Tuesday night I went out with #1 for an early celebration and got tanked, puking on my brand new shoes. On Wednesday I woke up on his couch and went into work for a couple hours, then I went to get myself a nice birthday present...

When I was 21 I got the Phoenix tattooed because it signified the rising of a new me, at 26 I decided it was time to get it completed. The flames were supposed to reach out from my butt to my mid-backed, but for one of the first times in my life, I couldn't drop my pants for a stranger - so we worked with in context.

Then I had a great dinner with the family and met some friends out at the Highbury - not just a handful - in fact about 15 or so people were there, for me! All people I've met with in the last year, but great friends regardless. I'll post more later ...

What a week!

Joan was in town last week and headed out to the Pack game on Thursday. Taking a deep breath after a long week and having my house back to myself, I sunk into the warm bubble bath that I prepared for myself. The bubbles were all around, crackling as my ears were submerged in the hot water and I closed my eyes.

As normal, the cat paced the edge of the tub. He hates it when I'm in there. Not sure if it's the water or the fact that I don't see him, but he will not leave my side when I'm in the shower or the tub and pulls back the curtain to paw at my arm and ferouciously lick any speckles of water that are in my hair or on my face or arms. As in normal context, back and forth he went but this time he went too far.

He's a tom-cat, which is bigger than a normal cat, and I may be over feeding him a bit - so when he reached the far end, he had difficulties turning. "Oh baby!" I sat up to help him, at the same time he used my face as a launching pad to keep from getting wet. I sunk in the tub, thanking God that I closed my eyes so quickly. The water seeped into the cut, the stinging started above my eye and kicked over to my neck. "FUCK."

I got out of the tub, looked in the mirror and I was covered in seeping blood.

Prior to work I tried to hide the resinating scratch but to no success - looks like it will be a season of Scarface.

And this is why ...

My dad calls today, "Hey you know next Wednesday isn't for your birthday, right?"

Me: "Huh? But she said it was for my birthday (sister)"

Dad: "She changed her mind, it's baby J's Christmas since we're all going to be together."

Me: "Umm. Wow. Okay."

Dad: "I know it's an issue when we combine, but it's only convenient."

Me: "At least I'll have my cake."

Dad: "She actually ordered one that says "baby J's Christmas."

Me: "Oh."

So ask me again, why do I hate my birthday? Grrr.

And then there was the invite that arrived yesterday as I went to my hair dresser. Wedding, Feb. 9th, 4pm (hair dresser's wedding). At my appointment, "You know you HAVE to bring a guest."

Okay. So gotta find a guest I guess...

Happier note - I love this Christmas song and this is a great rendition!

The Dawn of a New Day

Okay, I went to check out Bally's yesterday and while it's not my choice of gyms, I think I'm going to get a membership anyway including the personal trainer. I called my dad who was out of ideas for me for Christmas and asked him to pony up the enrollment fee and he agreed, so I'm going to enjoy getting fat today and then tomorrow it's the strict gym regiment!

And then there was one.

Have you ever been in this situation? You are single, have a great group of single friends that all hook up with each other and just are in the STC life of being. Things are going great. In fact, one of your friends even has found “love.” That was two months ago and things are going great for her, she doesn’t spend much time with the group anymore but she’s in love and there’s plenty still in the circle.

Except, now two of the other sets have hooked up and stayed together. They aren’t much for hanging out with the old group, so the four of them have formed their little circle. Granted, they call once in awhile when there’s a spat, but they’re generally happy.

So now your great group of friends is down to just four, two girls and two guys. The first guy has been seeing someone on the side and now, due to the holidays, they’ve gotten a little cozy. You see him once in awhile.

And the girl, she went back with her ex-boyfriend because she can’t stand the thought of the holidays alone. Who will be under the mistletoe for her or that midnight kiss?

So the two are left, the happy-with-disenchantment-love-doesn’t-exist type of friendship. They joke about getting laid, in fact he’s taking a girl home tonight that he just met.

The next morning the girl gets a call from him, “I had such a good time with her last night.”

She jokes and sings a song “You love her, you want to kiss her. You’re going to marry her.”

“Nah” he says, “but the things she can do with her tongue. Think I might see her again.”

And the next week, she leaves for Christmas parties and he goes on a date with her. A real date – he even pays. The next morning she calls and he doesn’t answer. She goes out.

He finally calls her, “Can I talk about something with you?”

“Sure.”

“So I was with the girl last night and we really had a good time. We talked and then we had sex. We were cuddling afterwards and she asked me where this was going.”

“Balls – after a week? Christ, you took her home the first night.”

“Yeah and I told her I liked hanging out with her and wanted to do it more. And then she said there were two things she wouldn’t stand for (1) me being with anyone else and (2) me dealing drugs.”

“And”

“And I said okay. So what does that mean?”

“It means you have a girlfriend.”

“I have a girlfriend? A real girlfriend?” All gitty like a two year old.

“Yup.”

And then she goes her own way and goes to her regular booty call as he calls her to say he’s seeing her again tonight. She has a great time on her own. 4 hours of sex. Every time she tried to leave, he asked her to stay. And when she finally put her shoes on he pinned her against the door and she looked at him,

“Seriously, you’re okay with this.”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re having fun?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’ll tell me when it isn’t any more.”

“Yeah. And you’re having fun?”

“Yeah.”

“And the same goes for you?”

“Yeah. Okay.” Kiss. “I’ll see you in two weeks.”

With barely enough sleep she wakes up in the morning and goes about her business, contemplating what that little end conversation meant. And then she texts him to help her clarify.

He responds, “Still with her.”

And he calls, finally, six hours later to recount how he is falling in love.

And then there was one. One single person. One person who has spent the last 4 years by herself for every Christmas, every birthday and every New Years.

Don't cry because it is over, smile because it happened.

I don't hate this season 100% because of Christmas or my birthday, I hate that it slows and we have to perceive our lives in the last year and are tempted to make judgements on it.

A couple phrases I've found very insightful the past few days:

Live your life with no regrets, because you'll never wonder what if.

I've loved 1/2 my life, hated the other 1/2, and in the meantime I forgot to live it.


The first phrase is how I've lived my life in the last few years. I spent too much of my youth being cautious and doing things for other people that I decided to live my life with no regrets. While painful leasons have been learned in the process, I don't regret much that has happened to me. For instance, when I saw RS was online I toyed with should I text or not. I called a friend who told me, "You've got two possible outcomes - he'll answer back or he won't. Would you regret not knowing either way?" So I went to my back up phone, found his number and sent him a text - "So looking to schedule a welcome home interaction?"

As I waited for a response, I was reminded of a phrase I heard ions ago (I can't even remember the source - but the person was dying at the time) - the second phrase. I contemplated, with my legs hanging off my balcony, if in all the hub-bub of working, socializing and going on with daily activities if I forgot the main purpose of why I'm here - to live. I for the most part am not a hateful person, but when I was younger I spent a good amount of time hating people that my boyfriend informed me weren't good people - including my father. I was wrong. In recent years I've become more laxed and found that hating people is not in my nature and I wasted over 1/2 of what my life will be doing it. So I've decided to love everyone and not regret them or the relationships I've been in. But I don't think I've actually really loved anyone and I don't think I've actually lived my life.

So what's a girl to do? I pondered as my phone vibrated from a text and beeped back - "What did you have in mind?"

I smiled. So JF and #1 were right to a point, I was willing to make a stop this weekend when I was out and about in Madison for a friend's party, but not that night. Instead he came to me. And I came twice.

Getting ready for the new year

Tis the season to start thinking about what went right, what went wrong and what changes can be made in the new year. Last year my main goal was no more destructive relationships. For the most part, that was fulfilled. I needed to remind myself occassionally of my worth and, except for the most recent snafu with RS, I'm ending the year having never had a relationship that was destructive.

In looking back I changed a lot this year. I accepted a new position, found happiness in a job, found a new place, moved out on my own. I found pieces of myself that I had thought were lost but I also lost more pieces of myself.

While so many changes happened, I forgot to believe in myself. That's the main goal for this coming year.

Tis the Season

While I love the holidays and I do enjoy Christmas because I love to make people's days - I also hate this time of year in the straight out Bah humbug kind of way.

First of all, it's a pity party for myself. This is my 3rd, technically 4th Christmas season alone. 4 years ago I was falling out with Guitar guy and didn't even spend time with him during the season, though we "technically" were together still. I'll never forget having to travel to Neenah under the pretense that we were still together. Shoot me. And while I've had an ankling pool of boys, none of them were ever around for this time of year which of course means that I got no kisses in the snow or gifts (even in the 4th year segment) to show appreciation. And then there's my birthday.

I'm December 27, two freaking days after Christmas. One of the busiest traveling days as well. Which means people are either just getting done with the holidays or traveling back after them. This, ironically, means that I plan my own get togethers and while the whole bayou says "no problem! we'll meet you out!" it also means on that day I usually sit on a bar stool by myself only to be bombarded with phone calls on the 29th insisting that they feel like horrible friends and they forgot. The past couple years I've traveled over the date and just go MIA. That way I blame poor cell reception on the lack of phone calls and no one has any pressure to see me because I'm out of town. This year, however, my birthday lands during the week and I can't escape due to other people's holiday schedules. I've given up any hope of a get together and will be dining with my sister and her two-year old.

Digressing back to the alone thing, to top it all off it seems like it's over between me and RS. Rightfully so, it's that time of year and I knew he was getting feelings as well. Turns out I was his hooker without having to pay. I say this because a Fuck Buddy at least gets some communication, whereas once you're done with a hooker you have no need to call or talk to them again. After unreturned phone calls and texts, I've opted out of this game. As JF and #1 point out, as soon as I get that text I'll be driving to Madison to spread my legs, but in the same sense I'm over it.

And then there's work. I love my job as you may know, but we're going through big changes right now and I'm not sure I want to hold on. The bad things about sales are also usually the best, meaning that the more you sell the more you make. I've tripled their sales on a monthly basis and now have adjusted my lifestyle to fit that of what I'm used too, but now I keep hearing "I know this is tying your hands ..." and am basically stuck with not having an opportunity to make my sales and therefore commissions. Not to mention the coordinator at work likes to use me as a scapegoat for things and seems to be trying to pound nails into my coffin. On numerous occassions I've asked him if he's trying to get me fired and the response is always a chuckle. I'm too old to play these games.

I'm too old maybe should be the theme of this bah-humbug post. I'm too old to be a hooker, to be in kid like games at work and to old to count on people to try to make me happy.

So raise your glasses and cheers to the holiday season, and if you're in Milwaukee on the 27th say Happy Birthday to the blonde at the bar with the Bud Light at the Highbury.

Start a new, play it out?

Bz posted on her site about the worst kind of confusion being about yourself. I'm not sure you ever stop questioning yourself.

In my last week off since any encounter of the driving kind, I've of course had time to think about what should happen. "If he texts me, then he cares." i tell myself, as my phone lays silent. Now I'm starting to wonder if it might be best to let sleeping dogs lie and not have any of my encounters anymore. This is the problem when you have too much time.

JF and I were out to drinks and he commented that one of the girls he was seeing had just gone on a 2 week vacation and that "the momentum is just gone" after that period of time, I'm wondering if RS is feeling the same way and I'm pretty sure I am too.

Before he left we had intimate time, just not in his bed but in eachother's presence - that was a stepping stone but perhaps a stone that is now covered - in 14 inches of snow to be exact.

Truth in Lyrics for December

Eerily like RS:

And I don't wanna see you anymore
I'm just not that strong
I love it when you're here
But I'm better when you're gone
I'm certain that I've given
And oh how you can take
There's no use in you lookin'
There's nothin' left for you to break
Baby, please release me
Let my heart rest in pieces, in pieces

Someone let you down again
So you turn to me,
Your convenient friend
Oh, but I know what you're doin'
And what you hope to find
I've seen it a thousand times
All the fire we had before
Are now just bitter ashes
Left scattered on the floor

That Girl.

Last night JF, BG, N and I went out for a beverage of adult content. I knew that CB was going to be brought up. We haven't spoken since my ill-fated email that explained I didn't want to be a secret.

BG left and I turned to N, "JF knows everything - so you can say whatever you want." "What happened? He's heart broken."

JF had my back, explaining that he was a huge backer of CB for the entire time and that my actions were warranted. But she still pailed home that I was "That Girl."

"That Girl" is the girl in conversations when you're talking to a friend and say, "Oh, that girl." She's done something to warrant her being an object and not a real person. "That Girl" can be used in different contexts, for instance...

Scenario 1:
"I had crazy sex last night" - "with who?" - "that girl." Usually with some kind of head shaking and crazy eye expression that makes you feel like you should give a high five. I'm "That Girl" in the RS situation.

Scenario 2:
"She broke up with me over email." - "THAT GIRL did?" - In the sense of, "who does she think she is?"

Scenario 3:
Or in the past sense, "So I saw her last night." - "Who?" - "That Girl." as in, "she broke my heart."

So I'm that girl in all situations. It's not the first situation that I'm ashamed of, it's the last two. I feel like crap. I mean I've been dating for 12 years now and I haven't broken any hearts and only one person might talk ill of me, and he sued me so he has no right to. I knew once the "V" word was said that I was walking on glass and had to take things in the right way or end up launching a piece about 5 inches right into his heart - which I guess I did.

While talking to N I mentioned my affair with RS and how I actually feel happy, but I must admit that the situation with CB has taken me aback a bit. I feel like I don't deserve to want to be happy.

I guess "Shit, I was almost happy" applies again.

Son of a B*tch!

I pay $650 a month for rent - water & trash are the only things included and I live in an old place, this means that heat leaks like no tomorrow so my gas and electric tip the scales close to $130 a month. Justification purposes, my rent was supposed to include a parking space (off street) and a washer and dryer.

Well, with our little blizzard the landlord's brought out both trucks and now I can't park! Also, both washing machines are in use all the time and I know one of them is on my electric. The hall light is also on my electric and is turned on all the time without me. I'm getting to the short end of my leash here.

I've composed this letter (note, my landlord's live downstairs so I don't want to be mean):

First let me say that I really enjoy living here – you guys are great, I love being able to walk Cocoa, I love the location and I love the place.

I was really hoping to have a housewarming party this weekend; however, I know the remodeling is not done yet. My birthday is coming up in a couple of weeks and I would love to have people over for it, I was curious to if you thought it was possible to finish the place within the month? If not, please let me know so I can make alternative plans – either way is not a big deal.

Also, as we’ve discussed, the truck does take up a large amount of parking space and I can barely get my car in when it doesn’t snow. I was able to maneuver my car after shoveling out the space on Saturday but I’m really not able to get in at all with the truck on the outside of the garage at all. I’ve been parking on the street but am risking getting tickets every night with the snow. Part of the allure was having an off-street parking place in the rental amount, is there any possibility of having the spot available? If it might not be all the time I’d like to get a night parking permit for situations like this that arrive and take the amount off of my rent.

I don’t mean to be a pest, but I feel that I am paying a decent amount of rent for the area and I’d just like to be compensated for what I’m paying for.

I know there’s a lot going on right now and I am more than happy to utilize my dad’s workmen to finish the kitchen and pay them for their time if I can take that money out of my rent for January.

Please let me know your thoughts!

Almost Happy Again

I was doing my normal Monday scrolling, checking on all my favorite bloggers to see what was going on and I made my normal 11:00 stop at postsecret and saw this postcard above (link to it on the side). It was funny how it hit me.

"Shit, I was almost happy again." How many times do we sabatoge what's going on in our lives because we fear that we might be happy again? I do it constantly.

I was reading Darth's blog and in one post he discusses his Uncle & a woman he is dealing with - both situations are drastic, and all I could think is that they'd prefer the sympathy of others than to fix their ideal situations and then I wondered if that was me.

BG and I were at the bar the other night, grabbing a beer and celebrating the fact of his band being mentioned on-air. A couple got tossed back when he informed me that he knows we'll never be together because he's not my type - but it doesn't mean that he doesn't want to be. He told me he's accepted his position of being my friend and will forever be my protector. It made my heart drop - how many girls would envy the position of a good looking guy saying that to them? I asked myself if I was potentially giving up happiness for something that could never be.

Of course, you know that means that I went to Madison the next day seeking solidarity and clarification. I actually didn't do it intentionally, I was walking my landlord's dog and when we arrived home I got a text message, "Should I be expecting company tonight?"

I was confused and not technically in the mood so I wrote back, "From me?" and dipped my toes into the warm bubble bath to heat up my cold skin from the walk. A little banter and 20 minutes later I drug my bubble soaked butt out of the tub and plugged in the curling iron. He'd be gone for a week, I could justify my second romp of the week, plus I left upset last time because I couldn't service him properly.

The night went on as normal. I couldn't get his doorbell to ring, he opened the door and I entered. He tried to kiss me, I told him to sit on the couch. I performed a little strip tease and we got down to business. He came, I didn't. He was out of commish, but held me close. It was 10:00 when I told him I wanted to leave before the blizzard, it was 2:00 when I actually did. This time seemed different, we chatted about his favorite band coming into town on tour, we talked about his week of vacation in Michigan. I asked who he was going with, and then he answered, "the guys."

With out thinking I asked, "the guys?" and then it dawned on me - The Guys. The guys from the band, including my ex. Without hesitation he confirmed and we chatted briefly about each individual person and their status - including a brief synopsis of the ex (with out my prompting). I felt that the conversation was about "the guys" and not the usual conversation dealing with "my ex." I wondered as I laid on his chest if he finally made a disassociation and if he was getting to a point where he could see me as a genuine person in his life. "You don't have to go if you don't want" he said as I put on my boots, "Do you want me to stay?" "No" he said as he hugged me and kissed me. I saw him waiting by his window as I pulled away.

I called #1 the next day, and told him I wasn't sure what to do anymore. I've crossed the line, I've screwed up. I was the girl that wanted sex with out strings, and I didn't stop when my emotions started getting in the way. #1 told me that I knew what I had to do, but asked me if it was what I wanted to do. I told him no, but I couldn't go through what he put me through years back. #1 asked me if I was stopping myself from being happy or if I've justified him as the reason to be happy. I told him that I can't help but think that he's the right guy. #1 reminded me that past mistakes aren't usually forgiving in the future and told me "You know what you want to do and you know what you have to do. Now you have to decide."

And with that being said I think to myself, "Shit, I was almost happy again."

It's pretty okay.

So it's been an interesting week or so.

Thanksgiving was a ton of fun. My sister and I baked pies at 5 in the morning while drinking wine (to sustain her buzz that she still had from Wednesday). After our first rounds of dinner due to the divorced parents, we were outside talking just the two of us. She looked at me and smiled.

Sister: "You're so happy."

MG: "Yeah, not much to not be thankful for these days."

Sister: "It's not that MG. You're seeing RS, aren't you?"

MG: "What? No."

Sister: "Yes you are. If you're not dating, you're sleeping together."

MG: "Are you serious? What would make you think that?"

Sister: "Because I can tell. You two need to get over the ex, you're supposed to be with each other."

MG: "It's nice to hear, but it isn't going to happen."

To be continued! Work day is over!

late night chat.

So tonight i went out with cocktails with #1 to do the pre-thanksgiving celebratory dance. His friend, also an old roommate from when we were together, was there and it turns out we were left at the bar together.

That's when he informs me that he's surprised I still hang out with #1, and I ask why. Big mistake. "No offense, never thought highly of you. I mean I do now, you're beautiful and accomplished."

Ouch. Dagger to the heart. #1 denies nothing, I tell his friend, "well, we obviously have two sides to a story."

Nervous.

I'm incredibly nervous these days. I love my job, but they've just capped me at sales due to our impending move. Then my boss tells me that I'm in a negotiating position, if they lose me - the business fails. I would never negotiate, but it still makes me nervous. One of our instructors left and with out being able to give people dates for classes or even a for sure head nod that the class can happen, I'm screwed. A nervous wreck. I need to hit my 7% cap to make rent. I was almost a grown up. Crap.

Then there's the whole social life. Wow, I can't imagine the mess I'd be in if I ever actually took off my pants (well, except for RS).

Here's an indepth update ...

CW: F*ck CW. Dumb 36 year old a**. Read yesterday's post for more - won't even bother wasting my time to reiterate. F*cker.

CB: Told me he felt distant. I told him it wasn't a feeling. I put 5 months into something that isn't working, it was time to move on. That didn't go well. Plus I did it on email - I was "that" girl. Guess I had Sunday coming to me due to karma. He told me he'd try harder, I told him my patience had wained. The truth is I'm not even attracted to him anymore (I didn't say that though)

BG: Still friends, really trying not to give an opposite reaction.

RS: Unfortunately I'm getting too attached and struggling hardcore with seperation of sex and feelings. I'm not sure his stance and too afraid to ask. I'd rather have sex then nothing.

JF: Is getting right up there with #1 and our friendship, in fact #1 seems a bit threatened of his position. I love them both, I'm a lucky girl.

I compare them to you.

I spent Saturday in Cedar Rapids visiting a friend. You can’t believe how amazing and strong both her and her daughter are for dealing with something so huge. I left early, had a date with CW at 1:00. At 8:00am, I headed back to Wisconsin.

At 10:30 I finally ended up in Beloit and stopped to get gas. My phone rang. It was CW. I was pumping, so I didn’t answer. He left a voicemail…

“Hey MG, it’s CW. Listen, I can’t see you this afternoon. In fact I can’t see or talk to you again. I don’t have a girlfriend like last time, I don’t know. It’s just hard to explain. Have a great life.”

I listened as I paid. I was angry. I wanted to drink or cry. I couldn’t tell which. The truth is, I don’t cry – so I wanted to drink to cry. Part of me was bent on fate, how could we keep bumping into each other? The universe throwing us in each other’s arms. How could that mean nothing? I called back.

“CW. We are both adults here. It’s been five years. I’m not asking to be your girlfriend, I was asking to be your friend. I missed being around you. But I guess some things never change. You have my number if you ever want to use it.”

I called E. She was busy. I called JF. He listened, “You’re too good.” I know I am. “Are you okay?” Of course I am. “MG, stop being strong. I know you are, you don’t have to be with me.”

I spilled, I’m not mad at him. I’m mad at me for believing I was worth something to someone. For buying into the “I loved you” mania. For holding my breath to have it taken away. I was mad for yearning for something that wasn’t good to begin with. I was mad because that guy, that asshole that left me the voicemail, I compared every guy to him. And no guy matched up. To that. What scum have I been dating?

I went to the game with E’s boyfriend, he was there. I was pissed. We had to see the game there because he’s a Bears fan and it was on digital cable. I hid in the backroom.

I went home and finally took the bath that I promised myself I would. I sat in the bubbles and the bath salts and contemplated why I wasn’t good enough. Keith Urban came on my iTunes, Tonight I Want to Cry.

The night before I talked with RS and he had said he’d be in town until late afternoon. I waited for late afternoon, not knowing when that would be. 7:00 was night, so it must be 5:00? It came and went. 6:00? Came and went.

I paced. I lit candles and laid in my unmade bed and I couldn’t take the built up emotion. I cried. Just a little. Frustrated with myself, it was 7:00. I put on clothes and started to head outside. Still angry, I text messaged RS to see if he was coming.

He drove completely out of his way and showed up. We kissed, forever. I didn’t think of anything but his hands on my neck, back, etc. It felt so good. We didn’t have sex right away like normally. We just sat there with each other, enjoying the teasing and the foreplay. We had slow sex and fast sex and then I laid in his arms for two hours, naked and he talked. I didn’t say anything.

I wanted to say, “What’s going on here.” But I was afraid he’d say it was just sex and I’d be by myself. I was afraid I’d lose him forever. He left just a few minutes ago, I walked him out to his car, his arm was on my back. We kissed for awhile. Dirty little secret exposed to the moon.

I walked back inside. I’m not sure how long I can hold out this charade of hard-ass girl looking for sex.

In many ways I’m angry at CW for being that guy, but as I said goodbye I was actually glad he was. After all, RS is just like him – except kinder. Gentler. Here now. That comparison I was glad for.

Crazy Pre-Weekend Post

This has been the week from hell.

I'm planning this major fundraiser and hoping to GOD people actually start signing up. It's nerve racking!

Broke up with CB, never heard from CW, and kissed JF.

Now I'm off to Iowa!

In 15 Minutes

I'm going to the doctor in 15 minutes to finally figure out what's wrong with my body. Why I can't eat meat anymore, why I can't eat anything for that matter, with out getting sick. Last time I was there, it just didn't make sense. Working out non-stop, eating a vegan diet, getting as sick as I was and putting on weight. Finally the doctor said it was time to address the issues. So today I'm doing blood tests.

The funny thing is that today will be a deciding day. The doctor is the only one I've admitted to that I'm struggling with the thought of anorexia again. The good news is I haven't thought about bulimia, both of which I've suffered in the past. I'm almost afraid that the results will come back that nothing is wrong and then I'll go back to old habits. It's funny that I've been through all the counseling and I see the warning signs, but just can't help to think that I'll just skip breakfast and run that extra mile, or I'll just have a glass of water for lunch. I'm trying so hard to be healthy, but it's so hard to see myself in old pictures and not want to return that way.

10:00 on Sunday and the clock is still ticking.

I moved a lot this morning, nearly all of my belongings pegged between two rooms, scattered on the ground or in plastic containers. I needed something to keep me busy while I waited for the game to attend. The game did end, and I didn’t get a call. Around 6:00 a co-worker called, he needed some items for Monday. To pass time I offered to do them for him and I went into work.

At 7:00 I flipped the phone between my fingers. I called. I probably shouldn’t have, but I did, Hey it’s 7:00 – wanted to see if you still wanted to go out. Call me.

Then I went to #1s with McDonald’s in my hand and patiently waited for a phone call. I laid in bed with #1 and he played with my hair. I talked about yesterday and how much fun it was to be with RS. He laughed and said the line that I always give him about his FB, “You’re going to get married and have babies and live happily ever after.” I sighed. He asked why. Because that would be great if we did.

As we talked I asked if I could tell him something. What? I got stood up. With CB? Oh geez, no (I’m from Wisconsin, we say oh geez). From CW.

He rolled his eyes at me. He told me he was glad because the old MG from 5 years ago would take it with a grain of salt but that person is gone and now he has no chance. It’s better this way he says.

And the truth is he’s right. Part of me wanted to call a few minutes ago and leave a voicemail saying that we’re even. But the truth is, we aren’t.

In all the lovey-doveyness and, by all means the second round was my fault, me getting freaked out way under plays the topic of him having a finacee the first round and not tell me. Or the girl calling me a dirty whore. Or the phone call he followed up with telling me to leave him alone. No, he still should be on the shit list and this has just compiled it.

If he calls tomorrow, I’m going to explain that I’m not 21 anymore. I don’t play these games. And then I’m going to tell him it was great seeing him and I wish him the best.

So God helps us make decisions through actions. I won’t regret leaving him anymore or look at construction sites to see if he’s there. I won’t wonder if he thinks about me. No. I now know that the me I am now is better than him and he’s still his old self.

Now to just let down CB. We went out on Friday and still nothing. This time I didn’t even pretend. I don’t have the energy to fake a relationship. He kept asking if he was taking too much time – and now I have to tell him that he did. I think he’s sweet and cute and great to be around, but I think he’s that person romantically for someone else. I thought I was clear on what I needed and he couldn’t give it to me. Next time, don’t take so long.

It’s that time of year. The time of year where relationships are out there to be had, but none are in my lap.

Decisions to make.

I saw RS this morning. He offered to come down last night, but it was snowing and my house still lacks anything besides a bed, so I said no.

I’m not sure why he makes me smile like he does. At some point in the near future I will have to have the “grown up” conversation, Is this just sex? Though I shamelessly hold out to see what might happen with CW.

What a weird sense of fate. The two people that I’ve wanted to be with in the past few years I have an opportunity to “be with” in one sense or another.

CW is actually the one who set the standard for RS. Both are manly, yet shy. Balding, tattooed. It’s been so long since I’ve been with CW that I actually can’t remember what it’s like to feel him next to me, or inside me, or just have a relationship with. I think it was good, why would I hold out feelings this long if it wasn’t? RS though, RS and I just share something. He can fuck me bloody, then lay and trace the phoenix on my back and talk about servers and I am completely content. And it’s been over 3 months of sex.

3 months. Wow. That’s awhile for an FB establishment I must admit. I wonder how someone can go that long and not have an inclining of any feelings? Granted, I push mine away so I can have this relationship, is he doing the same?

Tomorrow CW and I are going out. I’m wondering what that will be like? Like old friends? Old lovers? He’s been the reason for so many things in my life, can we just catch up and pretend there wasn’t 5 years of silence? And what if he just uses me? Will I be able to recover with out copiously trying to find a replacement? I often wonder what I will say tomorrow? So what’s new? I’m happy now, I haven’t been for a very long time and now the pieces fall into place. The last two years I’ve realized I don’t need a man to make my life function, but have also taught me that I want one.

I got a new job, I’ll say. I love it. I graduated from college. I have to degrees, I’ll brag. I’m doing well for myself, not well enough that I can spend money left and right, but well enough to live happily off what I make. My cat is great. My family is wonderful, but stressed because I never see them. My grandma wonders why I haven’t settled because my cousin is married and now pregnant. I tell them I’m just waiting.

It’s been 5 years, he’ll say. And I’ll say that I know, it’s been too long. And then we won’t talk. We’ll look at each other and I’ll want to take him home, sleep in his muscular arms. And think if I’m making the right choice.

I’m not psychic, but then I’ll go back to Madison to be with RS and I’ll lay in his arms and look for the comfort, feel out the future. And then I might have to have the grown up conversation.

With him I’ll ask, is this just sex. And he won’t know what to say. Because I know him, and I know part of him likes being with me, and the sane part knows that he shouldn’t. He’ll ask why, now? And I’ll say that I love being around him, but I want to make sure we’re both healthy in our decisions. If we are FB’s we have to establish that, and I miss being with someone in public. And he’ll say he can’t. And then we won’t talk. And a part of my heart will shatter as I wonder if I just cast something great back into the lake.

Then I’ll remember that something great isn’t an FB. But part of me will want to take it all back, because those once a week ventures are thrilling. To be with someone in that fashion that you’ve wanted to be with so long. I’ll miss how he kisses, how he touches, how he smells. How he traces the phoenix. And if things happen with CW, I’ll go back and see if that touching makes me as happy.

And either decision I make, or what happens, I’ll always wonder if it was the right one. And I’ll never know for sure, because that’s the nature of decisions.

To Each His Own

I full heartedly admit that any innocent bystander of my night tonight would assume I was drunk or stoned.

After family pictures, I headed out to #1’s to drop off a piece of artwork he bought – that was at 7:00, it’s nearly 9:15 and I just got home. I laid on his couch and he laid on the floor and we had our normal banter of cracking each other up amongst serious conversation.

I tell #1 everything, that includes that he knows the background with CW (short side note – I was with CW before the first go around with #1 and admitted I needed to get tested because we had had unprotected sex and I found out later he had been with over 100 girls), so I admitted to the Champps incident and told him that I really hoped he called. #1 hates this guy, not only for the above reason but because he knows that I really liked him when we were seeing each other and he (#1) had to deal with the pieces of a shattered ego from it. He cautioned me that I had to do what I had to do – but that he wasn’t a backer.

Doesn’t matter much because CW didn’t return my call from his original call anyway.

I digress, we discussed our current love situations and how the multiple people in our lives constitute one great person – just they aren’t together. BG is attentive, CB is sweet, RS is a great fuck and #1 is the perfect companion. He has a 20 year old love interest that is hot, hot, hot. The age difference kills it for him and he has said if they ever got together they would just (and this is a legitimate quote) “Have monkey sex for 3 months and be done with it.” One of my committee members is also an interest for him because she’s adorable, he said she’s the kind of girl you just want to cuddle with all weekend long, and then there’s me that he can just lay and shoot the shit with. The combined packages are phenomenal people – we just have to find them. Interesting, no?

As for the move – I’m still in boxes and 1/2 my stuff is still at my dad’s. I brought the bumpkin over last night to get associated with the place, he cried all night. Finally about 5am he settled under my covers, something he hasn’t done since Moo left, hugged tight to my leg. He stayed there until I showered and promptly returned when he saw me packing my bag. I came home around 4:45 (LOVE THIS COMMUTE!) and he was still there, I’m not sure he left all day. He’s also a horse and hasn’t touched his food.

He’s not your typical cat, even my dad thinks he’s more of a dog. He comes when called, plays fetch and even walks on a harness (not well – but he does it). He doesn’t ever cry, so when he is vocal I know he’s perturbed. This is a huge adjustment for him, he always had Moo and when she was gone there was always someone in the house – either my sister with her kids from her daycare next door or my dad or me. Now it’s just me and I’m not home that much. I feel like a bad cat mom L.

Other than that, I did put my bed together but I realized my internet connection isn’t the best – looks like I’ll have to cough up that $60 some a month – yikes. At least my gym membership is done after this month.

I still have no TV, so there’s not much to do these nights except sleep. Hopefully when the alarm goes off tomorrow morning I’ll actually get out of bed and run like I’m supposed to.

In a quick boy update news:

CW: Didn’t return my call.
#1 and I hung out tonight
BG and I have been chatting over email – but nothing major
CB tried to hang out all weekend but I blew him off for the move
RS and I slept together Friday, I tried to do it again on Sunday but he never returned my text.

To each his own.

The Ex-Factor

I’m not sure why I do this, but I make little propositions to myself to help me make “educated” decisions. For instance, “If Construction Worker (see this post: ) is at the bar for the game I’ll give up on CB.” I do it to justify not giving up on CB; however, sometimes my little propositions go south.

E & her man were running late, so I scrapped plans to head west to the Brookfield Champps. When they called 1/2 hour before the game I propositioned Greenfield Champps instead since I could make it there for a seat with in 10 minutes. “Sure” E said, “We’ll see you in 30 minutes.”

That’s when I made the above proposition, just for shits and giggles because I obviously haven’t seen CW in years. I walked into the bar, looked directly to the end to survey just in case they were there, and boom. Yellow hat, tanned skin.

Of course E ends up being an hour late and I’m tapping my foot at the bar. I forgot my phone – there’s no solace. He’ll talk to me, I want talk to him. I toyed with my fake engagement ring and pounded Bud Lights. They finally showed.

“You sit here. I’ve gotta pee, you come with me.” I grabbed E and headed to the bathroom, “Remember that guy that I say I drive slow past construction sites for?” She looked at me like a deer in headlights, “He’s here?” “He’s here.”

For a moment we toyed with the idea of me talking to him but I said no, did two shots and watched the rest of the game. As fate would have it, I walked to the bathroom as he walked out. We actually bumped into each other.

“MG? Oh my god, I was just thinking about you last week.”

“CW, yeah. It’s me. You look, you look really good.”

“MG, seriously – I can’t believe it’s you. You were the f*cking love of my life and you dogged me so bad.”

“I know. But, yeah – I’ve thought about you a lot. You’re my epitome.”

We chatted about life. “Are you single?” I asked. “Yes.”

“We should go out.” I said, he replied, “tomorrow. Let’s go out tomorrow.”

Because I was drinking I stopped and said no. I didn’t want to go out if there wasn’t a connection, so I kissed him. Connection.

A bit of honesty

I might delete this post, as I'm sure I'll try to convince myself I am wrong.

I slept with RS last night. It was great - we talked a lot. He threw in a little jests about ex-girlfriends, etc and it weirded me out. I wasn't really sure what I thought until this morning.

And I've alluded to this fact a couple of times, but I'm completely in love with RS. I have been for 4 years. I've seperated myself enough that I'm not the psycho girl that's pawing at him for a relationship, but if I'm honest with myself I know that I want to be with him.

And CB is a lot like RS was when we met, and I think that's why I'm dealing with all these crappy situations because I want CB to be RS.

The fact is that CB is not RS and RS and I will never be. This sucks.

I want to be in Iowa right now! :(

Exit Stage Right.

Out of the friends that I have that have met CB, there was one still hanging on - JF. Last night JF, my friend M, CB and I went out for a drink at one of the local bars by my house (my new house, that I move into THIS weekend! Eeeee! Exciting!) and enjoyed a couple adult beverages.

When it came down to conversation, CB didn't participate. In fact, he didn't seem comfortable at all. I cozied up, he stayed straight in his chair with his arms crossed. This morning I found out the last remaining bandwagoner has fallen off.

I got this tidbit of advice ...

I think you should probably move on. I hope you don't mind my two cents here, but you two are on opposite sides of the universe when it comes to what you want, physically, in a relationship. As we've discussed at length, that is very important. Again, there's really nothing wrong with being the way he is, it's just not what you want. I'm sure he is perfect for someone out there, hell many girls out there, but certainly not you. It does suck, because he is a really nice guy and he isn't shitty to you, but I think you would be consistently frustrated with him if this continues and, really, is that worth it?

I've stayed out of the Pro-CB spotlight and JF's right, it's not worth it. Because he doesn't make me feel wanted, I seek it in other places. Now I realize I'm justifying seemingly cheating ways on fabrication; however, let me reiterate that we actually aren't boyfriend and girlfriend, haven't done more than kiss, so I have definitely NOT cheated. And back to what I was saying, I obviously won't be faithful in a relationship if I don't get that, so it's better to cut ties now.

In the past I've put a lot of effort into "fixing" people and making a relationship last, and I've hung on because I put that time in and don't want to see my "project" fail - but it's time for a new leaf. He's guarded his heart too long and the horse is sick of chasing the carrot.

i've opted to go to Madison to get man-handled after work, straight up F*cked. I'm wearing my pink fuck me boots and my jacket - that's it. I have his college's sweatshirt to put on afterwards for round two. I'm so incredibly excited to feel his body on mine, feel his hands on my neck, feel him inside. Wow, 2:00 can't come fast enough - or cum, I guess I should say.

In moving news, this is it! This is the weekend! I've slowly been moving things over every day. This morning was the last long ride to work. I plan on going to Madison, fucking, coming home, packing and Saturday unpacking at the new place. I bought a beautiful, huge, work of art on gallery night that's starch black and white of a girl smoking a cigarette and drinking coffee to go above my couch - if I had a couch ...