Valentine's Day

I have no moral objection to Valentine's Day. Seriously I don't. Weird. I do however have a moral objection to the idea that there will be a man some day in my life who will believe it is important. It is not. It is important that he remember my favorite colour *cough* pink *cough* or my favorite flowers (rose, peonies, tulips, freesia - any are good choices) etc, remember things I like etc. But you know what? I like those things year round. Like a big vase of pink tulips randomly arriving on the muckiest "winter" day around here would be more amazing then a singing card and a vase of overpriced roses (near death)... I know I'm asking too much. I know I'm picky and demanding and not thinking about how hard spontaneity and individual thought are.

So if he can only be spontaneous once in his life time I pray that it is when it involves a Legacy-esque ring and the act of proposing to my sorry self - in other words if he tries to do it on Valentine's day regardless of the carat, the answer will be no. Picky yes, crazy, I don't think so, but then again that might be because I have nothing to test it against.

PS. I will also admitt CEF managed the flowers thing - but he complained about the cost and never ever got a colour I would like or a type I remotely liked... and I am a horrible person for saying that, still

6 Word Memoirs...

I have a handful of addictions - caffeine, vodka, vintage fashion, high-high heels and book stores. Bookstores get me more excited than anyone has, well anyone other than AB to this point in my life... I know it's a different kind of excitement, but the euphoria is similar. The smell of used books makes my toes curl along with the sides of my lips as they form a smile. So in our attempt to avoid a perma-drunk state as well as get fresh air Ms. J and I found ourselves in the local independent bookstore. I left with a handful of books. One of the smallest and in many ways simplest addition to my expensive book collection is 6 Word Memoirs on Love and Heartbreak. The premise simple, 6 words to describe any aspect of the topic.
Some examples:
Love blooms like crocuses: dirty, brave.

It helps to label the books.

Lost my virginity to her husband.

And so the book goes on... so my dear readers I think it's time to add some to the book.

Boys suck. The End. Wanna Date? - courtesy of Ms. J

Even returned the empty conditioner bottle.

I run, catch me, we'll discuss.

Hugs from behind are not mutual.

Love = carrying me when feet hurt.

Your turn...

Wrestling

Let's just say the whole pain in the side business has found it's permanent place in my blessed mouth, and no amount of wishing seems to get it gone. So again I'm learning you don't get what you wish, pray, hope and beg for, awesome no Louboutins for me in this lifetime I guess. But you do get more surprising brain activity than you could ever expect. I've been thinking, a disastrous idea, thankfully I've been sober, or not thankfully, on that thought, could someone pass me a Cosmo?

I've been trying to figure out the future, yes because I know that is firmly within my ability to do so. I've been trying to figure out how to find the balance where I've never seen the necessity to do so before. With BI, I stepped away, and he quickly moved on, and who knows maybe AB will do the same, maybe some day next week, the week after, the month after or so on and so forth he'll run head long into someone who makes all the questions and hurts and uncertainties seem not all that big, someone who makes it worth more than the risks. I know that it isn't in any way sane for me to try and be that person in the hopes that things will change, because that would mean I've denied all the months of beautifully painful self discovery and so on and so forth and yadda yadda. So then how exactly does it work? We remain friends who support each other, spend time with each other within reason and yet in everything find a way to make sure that either individual is available to the dating public, when the kind of scary thing is I'm totally up for a break from all this insanity and AB is apparently not looking... I'll leave that hanging there.

On another note BB (Barista Boy) has thankfully been sated, and I don't have to worry about dealing with all that right now. To be honest, I've found myself groaning as I mumble, they're not AB, for the love of Pete, they aren't AB, and what the hell has happened to me. Goodness maybe I'm up for those drinks Ms. J after I spend a day visiting my favorite uncle... or maybe before so I can help the freezing that I am completely immune to...

Written in the Stars?

To amuse myself I read my horoscope and check out what the wise readers of the gassy masses and centripetally moving masses see, I almost even convinced J to come with me to get a reading, but in the end I just wasn't sure that I could handle what would be said objectively, I knew I'd either hear it would be years before I'd find someone or the opposite, both of which I'd rather leave to those gassy masses... anyways to I checked out the alignment for myself and the two most prominently featured acronyms... I have to say it's funny to read them, because well, in hindsight they seem sooooo accurate.

Well in regards to OM, apparently I'd have to be on crack if I think we'd work out, according to the heavens, sure OM's sign finds me as hot as a Las Vegas August afternoon, but beyond that it also finds me as annoying as one of those afternoons can be chaffing every last inch of you as you burn, melt and darn well get angered to high heavens - yep we can check that one off as successfully achieved... in the end it's a flash in the pan and that's about it, I've moved on as predicted and he's still figuring it all out...

As to the other labeled soul, apparently it could be "magical," hmm, ya not interested if there are saws, bunnies and top hats involved... but apparently we're hot for each like that August afternoon, I'd have to say in my opinion we're at the I don't think I've even considered that stage, so I don't know, it could be, we're keeping that off the table because well why the hell should it be on the table, for one if we remember the whole long acronym, we haven't changed planetary systems so thus I can't foresee myself being considered suitable, but if we do shift the time space continuum apparently I could have found my not railroadable counterpart who will provide me stability, consistency and the patience to deal with someone owned entirely by the twins...only catch supposedly they like to lead thus the no railroad, so I'll be waiting on that time shift shit to go down, I wonder if I can cook up anything in the lab to speed up that process... not that, oh what the hell, why deny it, we all know that I want something to happen... shit my life is just not working out these days, this is the worst ever.

Train Lethargy

Okay so I've written this blog 3 times over and I've decided to scrap it each time and share instead a momentary chuckle from the 50's. So I don't know who this person was - in other words if I did get a name I sure don't remember it, but well he still left an indelible impression. He entered AB and my conversation around the early/middle part of the night - fair enough, I can't even remember how that happened - we talked Youtube and Rocky and something else, and then after I was already getting creepy vibes, I get introduced to his girlfriend - this frail looking, though beautiful, but likely not too self assured girl - whom he proceeds to patronize in front of me. I'm not sure how mocking your girlfriend, nameless girlfriend works in your favor. That wasn't the last time he chose to mock her and her "lame friends." At the end of the night, slightly intoxicated and high the creep vibe came back when he once again injected himself into the conversation.

I had to laugh at it all though to be honest it kind of made me want to slap him. He was about my brother's age if I can guess based on the living at home and the very young looking girlfriend, so even more so, where do you get off thinking that you have endeared yourself in anyway - you're likely chocked full of STI wonderfulness - since I doubt you're faithful, never mind the fact that when a relatively sober (one nursed Tom Collins) is picking up the creepy vibe from an evidently impaired individual - it sure makes you feel lucky, don't it?