Wanting to believe...

I want to believe that around the corner is a better life. Not that this one is all that bad, but I’ve always been a dreamer and looking forward to the future is more real to me then living in the present.

I took my roommate to see “he’s just not that into you” and even though it’s a harsh topic, I was expecting a happier picture. I found the movie took a long time to begin and everything seemed very negative. The main character constantly dates people who aren’t that interested in her, the next character is married to a guy who sleep with someone else (PS. Not a big fan of Scarlett Johansson) and the third main character’s boyfriend refuses to marry her so she calls it off.

I want to believe that when I finally do find that guy I want to be with, I’m not against the odds. I know that after 26 years of searching for that perfect guy for me, it’s not an easy task and sometimes people need to be told that fateful phrase, making it easier to move on, but still, I went to the movies to escape reality, not get told, and reassured what I already know.

He's just not that into you.

The first time I read this book (He's Just Not That Into You), I read it with the notion that I knew everything Greg was saying and that I didn’t need to really pay attention. But now with the preparation for watching the He’s Just Not Into You movie, I’ve been reading the book again.

After a week and a half of not hearing from the guy I’m sort of dating, I’ve decided that I’m not going to be the one keep emailing or calling him. Is he into me? I’m thinking not. Am I concerned? Yes, I really fell for this guy and feel we have a lot in common. However, as noted, I’ve been through too much in the past few months to deal with more of these crazy “but I like him so much” emotions. If you’re into me sunshine let me know.

But I’m also wondering how us, as women, we can be so thick that we need a book to tell us what we already know on some level. I guess sometimes we just need someone else to confirm our thoughts and if your friends are too thick to have opinions on guys and feel you should stick with a relationship because it’s better then being alone, then read the damn book! Don’t stick it out and compromise happiness for companionship. It’s 2009, we can have kids without them, drive without them, climb up the corporate ladder without them and we can pay our own bills without them.

I’m sorry, I’m sounding like Greg.

I once, in probably a very bitter stage, told a friend that she was afraid to be single. I don’t remember saying it, but know it’s something I’ve most likely thought. And though it was probably hard to hear, she has since dumped his ass and loves being single.

Loves it ladies, and you will to. I do admit that I have times of being lonely, and feel the need for affection and physical attention, but I’d rather save it for someone who’s not dicking around with my heart strings.

Read it, and don’t be afraid to be a Greg, your friends need it!

life or something like it...

I wish i could say that I've accomplished a lot in the past two years that i've been away from the blog. But unfortunately, I haven't. I'm back to being broke, back to the world of trying to figure out boys and I'm back on my own two feet, blogging, hoping for any answers to life you feel like dishing out.

Like any new grad, I've spend the past four and a half years trying hard to save up money and get my foot in a door in order to establish some sort of career. After being awarded a contract job in October of 2006, I moved in with my parents, and the blogging decreased. In February of 2008 I was handed a full time job at a different office and though i often thought of blogging, i didn't want the record of the blog address on either computer I was using.

Life happened and as much as I refused to life it, it didn't give me any other choice. I'm sure in future blogs I will post the struggles I've dealt with and where the outcomes have brought me. In the meantime, I'm excited to be back and blogging and i look forward to the following communications.

night.
M.

Your obsession grows

You are still obsessed as the weekend passes. No word from the hottie and if it wasn’t for your friend who invited you over everyday for the past week, you would have killed yourself with worry and anxiety. But you continue to hit redial for his cell phone and you refresh your email account hoping for a brief but very important email from him.

Monday roles around, you’ve talked to his dad a second time on the weekend but no word. You can’t wait for the message to be passed along and you try other people who you know that know him to.

R, another hottie in the real estate business. You know him from a few bar visitations and would have gone home with him if you didn’t live with hottie A, who was guaranteed to respect you and be good. You think back to the time when hottie told you that it was R or it was him, you couldn’t have both. And you smile cause for once in your life you made a guy extremely jealous.

R emails you back, and your heart breaks.

Hottie emitted himself into the mental hospital and has been there for a few months now. R is willing to see you and sounds excited that you’re going to be in the area. You plan to get together with R. He is the next best thing, but you are sad for hottie and make plans to see him.

So you relax. Hotties alive and you are happy that he has taken the appropriate steps to fix himself but the fact that he is having troubles upsets you.

Your wanting to see him grows.

you go to Ottawa

Picture planning a trip to Ottawa, you spin through the rolodex of friends who you’ve created there and determine who you want to see again and who don’t need to. One, your best friend, however, you find out he’s going to be in Europe (yet another exotic trip this year) while you are going to be there and two, the hottie you lived with before leaving O-town.

You send the appropriate emails out and make the calls, but the one you want to see most, the hottie, isn’t around or doesn’t reply.

You try and try and try again to talk to him, but his cell is off and no one seems to be picking up at home and the last email you received from him was back in January. So then you remember previous chats with him, he was depressed about a year back and almost committed suicide. Not knowing whether he’s fallen back in those shoes again you come to the conclusion that he has, so you contemplate him having done it and you wonder whether you really want to know or not.

The thought bothers you so much that you call his work. But the dagger in your back turns more as the guy on the other end of the phone has no idea who you are asking for. You explain who you are looking for more and the guy on the phone talks dumb to you, as though your world is not crumbling down at your feet and the realization of his non-existence takes one more bit at your soul.

You realize you do love him. Maybe not the way that you’ve been in love before, but now a trip to Ottawa isn’t worth the drive if you don’t get to see him, and you dread a job offer if you have to live with the constant reminder of what you left assuming you’d see him again.

So you call his dad, but the conversation is awkward and you manage to get your name out before it sounds like his phone has hung up and you hang up yours in confusion and realize that might not have been the case. But the dad would have said something about him, if he wasn’t alive. Rather then the “no he’s not around now can I tell him who’s calling.”

So he’s alive. You aren’t surprised, but you still have to wait for the message to be passed along and wait for him to get back to you. He could be super busy and may not want to be bothered with a cell phone any more. How often do you call his dad or when do you call his dad again?

You sit at your office doing a mindless job wondering about him. You have to blog about it and when you are done the blog you realize your talking in third person or describing a situation as though you are going to be in it and there might be some advice to give, but there’s not. I’ll keep you posted with what you do next, but you don’t know right now. And a tear falls and your thoughts continue to scrabble.

You really miss him.

Another piece of Jewelry

Every so often I’ve had to make purchases for myself to remind me that I am sexy and cool and deserving of some jewelry, even if it is just for my own pleasure and peace of mind.

M’s disappointment bought me a ring. I rarely wear it due to attention span with wearing any such jewelry. But it’s nice and symbolizes being able to appreciate myself when it seems like other peple may not as much as I want them to.

And T’s disappointment in university brought me to get my naval pierced. I’m proud of that one and it makes me think of him when men play with that little ring through my stomach. You’d think it’d be awkward having thoughts of an ex-crush running through your mind while in an intimate relationship. However, with my past “players” it’s been nice to have the guy I first really dated on my mind. (its’ a messed up train of thought, I know)

So now with this recent disappointment with C, I ponder what would be a suitable piece of jewelry now. I only have two piercings and kinda like it that way, and I rarely wear jewelry. Or is he only just a crush that will fade with time, maybe he isn’t really worth the cash spent to better myself for him. I’ll wait and see.

But it makes me ponder, what kind of jewelry would he be?

I feel like Lisa Simpson

I feel like Lisa Simpson playing the saxophone with Bleeding Gums Murphy and singing about the blues. “and just this past morning my mother gave my last cupcake away.”

However, I know these blues are merely just pms and post Christmas blahs and that in time, they will fade. But let me play my horn for a minute here.

My dad’s being an asshole again. Just the other day he removed the shower head from the shower preventing anyone from showering. Things like that are his way of taking his bad days out on us, his family. So waking up Saturday mornings are tough (he works the afternoon shift whereas I work the mornings and we see each other weekends) is he going to be nice or a jerk. And for this question, I hate him. I hated my childhood and the abuse I suffered but since I’ve been back I thought it was better. My dad and I were getting along great and for once I actually felt loved from my parents. But now, even though I know my dad’s bad days are not because of me they still exist and I’m left to relive my childhood thoughts of insignificance and sadness. Can my parents just be normal for once??

Yesterday was one of those Fridays that left me wanting beer and wings after work. However, the friends I do have in the area would probably not be up for the idea, each probably being too far from me, being at work or being with their lover. But then I kicked myself for not even trying to call anyone. I didn’t really want to bother anyone with my obvious PMS state. In a few hours anyways I will be getting together with my friends and seeing them two nights in a row might be too much. At this point in my dry spell, beer and wings would have been much better with male company anyways. This sob story has two parts:
A. Friday was a fine day in the field. The weather was nice and probably one of the last nice days we will have till the end of February when my job is over. I set a goal in the morning and only photocopied 30 pages for my co-worker. (30 pages is actually a lot to accomplish in a day.) So then by about 2:30 we had magically reached my set goal and had used up all thirty pages, but the weather was nice and we could have worked longer if we all felt up to it. But I didn’t. for some reason I wanted more then anything to be back at the office. The drive from the work site to the office takes an hour and with the keys in my hand already I got behind the wheel and the other two took there normal spots in the car. To make a long story short, or rather to get to the point. While I was driving more then 30 km’s over speed limit I realized I was rushing back to the office to see him, C. I wanted to spend another day working on the computer beside him making casual small talk that may eventually lead to the question of having coffee, or possibly wings and beer. Anything to get to know him better. But even though I longed to see him Friday, I told myself that I wasn’t going to see him just to see him and if I didn’t see him, it would be no big deal and I would see him again Monday or Tuesday. Now I long for that Monday or Tuesday.
B. I’m driving home wanting wings and beer and wanting to cry for some unknown reason. One crappy song after another I became more and more aggitaded and I hated the fact that I was driving home to spend another Friday night alone. We have no shower and I’m feeling like a burden. So to be nice I picked up a family pack of KFC on my way home. I brought it in the door to realize that everyone had already eaten. My mom had picked up my brother and sister from school and had taken them to McD’s for a treat. But the kicker comes when I find out they had wanted to get me something but didn’t know what so they just didn’t. Good thing I had the KFC in hand or I would have felt really lost, wanting wings and only making myself leftovers.

And now I’m frustrated and almost teary eyed because the guy I thought was my best friend is getting married and I’m not in the wedding party because I’m a girl and I’d throw off the whole all male wedding party thing. I know that being in someone’s wedding party is a pain in the ass and your working and organizing your ass off for someone who will be selfish in the end about every thing. But when someone means as much to you as this guy and his fiancé both mean to me and I to them it’s an honor and shows the appreciation of the friendship. But it’s one of those things that I can’t truly explain why I’m annoyed at, and why I even care. But I was the first person he told, before his parents and before any of his fiance’s friends or family knew and I sucked up all the hurt I had towards relationships then to be happy for him. He even told me that I’d be in the wedding party if there was going to be a wedding party, and so now that there is, I’m not. And I’ve gone down to being in the same boat as the other girls from University. I was the best friend and even maybe if I still am, I don’t feel like it. And maybe that’s why it bugs me, I don’t feel its mutual anymore.

“and I’m the saddest kid in grade number two”