Confession Time

No I didn't buy a ridiculously expensive handbag or pounce on the baby barista boy today (or ever - neverever on that one), I realized that the biggest reason I'm not all giddy at the moment about anything in my life is really I'm scare shitless. So why? While some of you know the in's out's and ALL the details, the majority of which has remained for direct conversation and that is my choice, not X's - she's right about some stuff just shouldn't be blogged. But ya, anyways I'm coming smack face to face with things that no amount of therapy can prepare you for, the great unknown and conversations I can't imagine having when your heart is on the line, but yet I know that I have to have at some point in time, with someone whether that's whomever I am seeing this week or someone else. Now I know BI is going to think this is where I haven't changed - actually I have - the issue is now I know why it scared me before - being the survivor of abuse is no easy road, to be honest I don't know how it's done, because it seems to be one of those you have to live through it processes, you explain yourself into a place of understanding, but you also seem to continually be in a place where you are continually asking the unimaginable of people - for them to understand something that makes people go silent... so ya that's what I'm chewing on today, in addition to cucumber - Ms. J I think I need a drink... deep breath, and one step at a time.

Good Girls Don't

Do lots of things I'm sure I've been known to do, which is maybe why I like the bad boys when it has come to dating. My policy has been if they're tattooed, pierced, have a little bit of a potty mouth and play an instrument, then I'm all over it like a bridezilla at a Kleinfeld sample sale... in recent months I've learned that while that may be what I'm attracted to since I'm not a purely good girl, and you don't get the bad boys that you can change - a la Beauty and the Beast, and vice versa, good guys it seems are looking for something a little, perhaps wilder. I was thinking about that as I wrote out for like the millionth time that an individual I know is a "genuinely nice guy" and blah blah blah, so why not this said genuinely nice guy? Because well I know I'm not even registering on his radar, that is if guys have that... so be that person out of left field saying hey you seem like a really great guy wanna go to _____, seems so completely wrong... am I wrong for believing that?

It's Not Worth IT is it?

Sitting here trying to figure out how to start, do I empty out my frustrations about the brunette always being labelled as the tarts that defile the young men, only to be rescued by the blond (check your bildugsroman definitions), I love how pop culture steals just enough to capture the attention of the fringe, we had this discussion in another time and place about a music video featuring a cuckold... but anyways that is neither here and not there or here... so moving on. After a weekend of partying, I'm trying to figure out how I decided to in my old age to ramp up my social calender...maybe just maybe because I figured somewhere along the way it would all pay off and I wouldn't be blogging about acronyms and mystery pseudo men, that it would all be wrapping itself up into a neater bundle, of boy meets girl, boy calls/FB's/emails girl, boy and girl meet informally - coffee, used book store, gallery or whatever - not all on one day of course, and then if boy likes girl we progress from there. Simple? Well apparently it goes more like this: boy and girl meet, girl thinks boy is cute, emails/FB's/texts boy, boy responds, waits, waits, boy waits a little longer and girl moves on... or girl gets impatient and asks uninterested boy out... or as seen on the weekend as we passed by a local nightclub, I apparently would be successful if I took the dress I was wearing on Saturday night, opted to skip the double sided tape and took 12 inches off the bottom, ensuring that the hem instead of grazing my knees grazed my toosh instead... is that what I'm left with? Is that how it's done? Because while I function under the I don't care if you look policy those boys I believe function under the belief they get the right to touch after one weak assed martini... even a strong, excellently executed one doesn't get you that far, it may get you my guarded with my life phone number... yes you are of select company if you get my number, it has something do with a CEF... all that being said I believe today June 8th it's SO NOT WORTH IT ALL, someone please I beg you prove me wrong.

I wonder if you ever

Get used to this feeling? Or any of the feelings around relationships? And while yes I guess I'm referencing all those happy feelings, I am specifically in this moment talking about that old as ways of communicating feeling issue. Even back when Tweets were just a glimmer in some super computer's eye and those too were a glimmer in some silicon's eye - girls, ladies, women waited to be called, written, talked to or whatever mode of communication was the accepted norm and of course the easiest for the man involved. So me? I'm waiting for an email, I've ruled out a text or a phone call despite the fact that yes OM does have the ability to do so. It's going to be fast approaching 48 hrs, and yes while granted I guess I shouldn't care, I do. It's a feeling you don't get used to, the slow rejection. Maybe I'm really a girl because I like to talk it out, to know the hows and whys and sometimes that's not an option. In this case I want to know what the hell is going through his lovely bald head. Yes, No, Not Now, She's kind of odd (Yes I am, I remember an ex saying I am as complex as a 8 sided Rubik cube), OMG she's got a tattoo - I wonder where it is and what it is of (You'll see it in due time, most of the world has), I don't think there is chemistry (Humph! I'll show you chemistry just hand me the vodka), I can't believe I didn't kiss her on Saturday (I can't believe you didn't either for the record). I just wish honestly that I could get a shot to show me - you know on my terms - cook for him or do as I did with BIWHMBHWTMK (Boy I would have married but he wasn't the marrying kind), we spent an entire day doing what I wanted and in the end he chose the movie... I can tell you I know he wanted to kiss me that day, again he didn't either... damn it. Oh well he's got a girl and a little boy and as happy as a clam or something like that. Where were we, feelings - so no hopes high here.