Still Nauseous

I am not sure what to make of my continued nausea, I'm not complaining in a general sense, if I can live of a latte for the day that would be cheap, but given that it doesn't provide the nutritional basics for a 6 mile run, I think I'll need to shove some food into myself and hope for the best. And now before I get some kind of comment about morning prevalent nausea and so on and so forth, let's just say no to that now shall we, there is apparently enough discourse about me currently.

Speaking of discourse, AB was texted last night, by someone who wasn't there on Saturday night, inquiring about the girl in the blue dress, now I have to say blue dresses are getting some kind of notoriety in society, that I want no part of, but I figured that the dress wouldn't go unnoticed, like a walking blueberry or something like that, with as one of the guest felt inclined to tell me a provocative neck line, apparently, good to know even when very impaired that part of the male brain works just fine. In the end it wasn't the blue dress though, it was less than discrete moments, that I know I'm due to for a lecture from Ms. J for - though I think that I chose to wear the dress will likely be the primary chastisement. Anyways I'm digressing... what I was pondering on my longish train ride to work, feeling gross from my no hot shower morning, is how is it that now in my life I find myself on the fringes of gossip for lack of a better word and what do I need to do to get it out of my head my creeping frustration that I've somehow become that kind of girl, the kind that is shrugged off, the tart, now don't get me wrong, I'm not thinking that there should be this declaration of something there isn't or something like that, just anyways fumbling over that.

More importantly so, how is it that I am here. Here being here... here being not waiting but somehow still hoping for someone to deal with their fears. I thought I would be the one with the fears and the worries, and yet maybe AB is too understanding, too safe, too something because I don't have fear, maybe I should, maybe I should fear it but I don't. He does. He has his reasons, fair enough, somewhere in my idealism, I wonder if that, the fears he has, are reason enough for me to leave this all where it is, regardless of everything, that maybe those fears will never truly disappear, maybe they'll serve as some kind of escape clause. I don't know, I can't help but cloud everything in a shade of Saturday, a memory that I find myself unsure of what to do with it.

I couldn't find the Ryan Montbleau songs that I really love, but hell this works for now, to be honest can't really stomach searching for it.

Photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/sashala/391779167/