Pour myself a cup of ambition

Yesterday I made the absolute perfect cup of coffee. It wasn't too strong, or too weak. I didn't use too much cream or Stevia (an herbal sugar substitute.) It was the Baby Bear of coffee; just right. Logistically, I knew I couldn't comfortably hug a cup of coffee, but boy I wanted to.

In such hard times, one has to take pleasure in the little things.

What a difference a day makes...

On Thursday the boy I was seeing told me he wanted to pursue a relationship. With another girl.

On Friday my boss told me that I was to take on a challenging new project. Looking for a new job.

I should be a wreck, but I feel oddly relieved and unburdened. I hated my job and in the process of getting a new one when I was sacked. As for the boy, I have another date next weekend. He even has the same name, so no embarrassing, "Davi-er, I mean John" moments.

So don't feel sorry for me because I'm fine. Or maybe I'm just learning to deal with a life that is completely out of control. Either way, I'm off to LAMCA today to see the Klimt exhibit.

Say, say, say watcha want

Here's the deal...

Say you go to a friend's house Friday night. Say there were no street lights on and it was dark and rainy. Say that when you were making a right turn you jumped the curb, scaring the freckles off of you. Say you drive home a few hours later and everything is great, so great you find yourself singing along to Arrowsmith songs at the top of your lungs.

Say you lounge around all Saturday because of staying up all night cuddling and making out with said friend whose house you visited the night before. Say you don't leave your apartment at all. Say you decide to go out grocery shopping Sunday night and find your tire is flat. Say at that moment you remember jumping the curb and that it actually caused some damage to the car. Say you say " Aww shit!" out loud to an empty parking lot.

Say you get back to your apartment and realize that you have to miss work to get this tire fixed. Say this makes you stress out because you aren't the most efficient assistant and you might lose your job.

Say you wake up the next day and all the stress from the previous night has caused your IBS to act up. Say you can't go get the tire fixed as early as you wanted because you can't leave until your colon stops it's spasms...

So...yeah.

Kiss me once! Kiss me twice! Come on Pretty Baby, kiss me deadly!

Last night I had a really good make-out session. I refuse to go into details but go turn on an old episode of Beverly Hills 90210 and you might understand. We also watched the 5o Cent movie, Get Rich or Die Trying, which Gunther rented in honor of my love of Gansta Rap. We also watched Doom Generation. Then we made out. Then we watched Freeway.

It was a rather momentous occasion because I haven't been felt up, purposefully that is, in almost a year. It's such a relief.

I'll take you home and make you like it...

I need to do something with my hands.

I am finding I am free of a burden.

I don't want to make sense.

I am reminded of this lyric, "She's been everybody else's girl, maybe someday she'll be her own."

I'm odd mixture of absurd and serious. Kinda like the British.

I want to be creative.

I want to say something to someone, but I won't.

I am also reminded of this lyric, "Everything you say is so/Obnoxious, funny, rude and mean/I want to be your blowjob queen."

I dream about coming home to my books.

I plan on getting some smoochies this weekend.

I think I'm just like my dad, but have too much of my mother in me to get caught up in it.

I love making my friend Kathy laugh.

I owe nothing to anyone and no one owes anything to me.

(You'll have to say that last one outloud)

You Know Who You Are,

I make this personal and direct. I am a fighter and I never give up. But I do change my mind from time to time. That's what I've done here. I say this in all sadness, hurt and anger, fuck off. Again.

I was starting to let you back in and that was worrying me; but I wanted to trust that the years we spent not talking had brought growth and maturity. It hadn't. Pity.

Fine. You can make a mess out of your life all you want. I'm too old to worry about that, being that my life is difficult as well. Of course my pity party is rather small to the swinging shindig of depression that you live in everyday, but I have many moments in which I feel and act like a ripe asshole. I guess understanding and compassion are just too difficult to muster in this sad state that you find yourself in. Yet, you expect it from everyone else. Hmm.

Now Kathy, being a dear friend, is worried that we won't be able to be around each other. So for her sake, I suggest that you get your head out of your rear and be decent to me if we are ever in the same room together (which will happen from time to time.) I want you to go to the parties and such, because you do need people. But don't expect more than civil behavior from me. I'm done with you as long as you're heading this destructive path. I don't trust you enough to risk it again.

I still love and care about you. Honestly I do. I had hoped that we could overcome the bullshit both of us bring to the table. Pretty silly and immature, huh? I bring plenty of my own BS, I admit it. Seeing you again after all these years has awakened feelings of hostility, affection and even a bit of lust that I thought were long gone. I don't always handle my emotions well and many times I've been passive aggressive. I apologize for that. I also know that I made the choice to contact you and so I take responsibility for my share of what has happened.

Get your shit together. Life is always going to be, even on the best of days, a little fucked up. Find a way to cope with that or else you will not last. You are too talented, smart and noble to go down like that. I will always hope the best for you. That you find some sort of peace and someone to love you.

Regards,

Debbye

Ugh.

This is why I don't like dating, it's such a ego bruiser.

I went to David's place hoping for a smooching session, but no, he didn't even kiss me. I could've kissed him I know, but I like to let a guy make the first move; to see what kind of risks he'd be willing to take. But nothing?

He didn't even try to hold my hand.

I'm trying not to take it personally, but come on! I believe he thinks I'm attractive and he likes me. I think he's cute and I like him. For sure the second date is a time for some kind of move to be made. But nothing?

Maybe it is me. Maybe I'm giving off some "don't kiss me signal" that mixed with insecurity would make him hold back a bit. Jesus Christ! Just kiss me! What can I do to you? Could the possibility of rejection be such an overwhelming fear that it would stop you from kissing a cute girl alone with you on your couch?

I'm going to just kiss him. Unless he kisses me first.

How fucking romantic.

Sing, sing a song

"Greased Lightning" has been playing on a constant loop in my head all day. I must clarify, not the entire song rather just this part:

She's a real pussy wagon; Greased Lightnin'! Go, go go go go go go!

All. Day. Long.

I almost blurted out, "Real pussy wagon!" while sitting in my cubicle. And that was the most interesting thing that happened to me all day.

I was up all night sick because my boss was in a bad mood. She was grumpy and took it out on me. All the stress caused my digestive system to become very, very mad at me. Lousy colon.

My brain is asleep. I feel tired and beat up. Is this actually my fucking life?

I want off.

Have a little faith in me

Oh man.

On a recent email planning a second date, he misspelled a word. It was a rather obvious error. Now I know that people misspell words all the time. Hell, I could go down as one of the worse spellers in history and I have a college education. But I use a spell checker on everything! I know I'm being shallow, so I'm not going to let this bother me.

Too much.

It's just disappointing when you like someone and want him to be perfect. Not forever, but just for a little while...

I'm gonna live forever; baby remember my name

I almost forgot I had two celebrity sightings in one day: Mr American Psycho himself, Christian Bale at a pizza resturant and Maggie Wheeler, best known as Janice from "Friends" at the Ashes and Snow exhibit. David had to point them out to me because I was oblivious.

Because Every Little Thing is going to be Alright

Turns out he's a very cool guy. I mean for the first time in a long time I felt chemistry. Every date I've been on has been wrong: wrong guy, wrong time, wrong medication. This is the first guy with potential that I've been out with for a while.
I like him. I believe he likes me too. I'm not even freaking out like I usually do when I like a guy.

I want to see him again.

Man...

I'm up.

I went to bed at 2:30 AM and woke up at 7:30 AM. Why? Why, I ask?

My date is today and I don't want to go. I'm just afraid that he'll be some loser like all the rest. There are many reasons to believe this since every date I've been on in the last two years has been disappointing. Ugh. Here's how I see it going down; he's repellent. I have to eat lunch and make awkward conversation. Then I come home and eat donuts.

And for some reason I keep doing this! Because I want love, companionship, sex, blah, blah, blah...

Sigh...