I watch his wildest dreams come true..not one of them involving you.

I suppose it’s time for an update…

So much has gone on in the past little while, I don’t even know where to start.

I guess I’ll start will school: School is pretty much never mentioned in my life without a word that would make a nun slap me with a ruler included somewhere in the sentence…
It’s brutal…mostly because I’m so burnt that I can’t think, I slack, I question my work, and I’m at a point where I wake up in the morning and dread going…I’m looking forward to the placement, and the piece of paper, but getting there is the tough part.  I also think I’m slacking because in some masochistic way, I don’t want to graduate…The real world scares me…But, I will graduate, I will rock, and I will take on the world and be a huge success.  So there.

I’ve recently moved(still sort of moving) down the street and into a house with some friends…it’s awesome, it’ll save me a gagillion dollars in the end(ok, maybe not that much…) and I love the people I’ve moved in with to death…this including my man.  Yes, we’ve taken the official step and moved in together…

It’s scary but I mean, it’s a logical step in life…I guess I had to settle down eventually, right?  And I finally found someone worth settling down for.  Someone who accepts me for who I am, and someone who can fully be himself with me.  He’s never been able to truly be himself with anyone until me, and that makes me melt on so many levels.
I love him with all my heart.  He’s my rock, my lover, my best friend and I can see myself spending the rest of my life with him.  It’s to the point that I can’t WAIT to spend the rest of my life with him.

So I guess the point of this post, is to thank someone.  A thank you to a bitch who made me miserable, who made him miserable, and who fucked with us endlessly.  Thank you for driving us together. Thank you for being such a cunt and making us realize that we were worth fighting for to each other.

You were a means to an end.  You’ll be getting a thank you note on our wedding day.

Petition to Chlorinate the Human Gene Pool

I’m not one to judge the whole based on a portion.
Not one to judge an entire group based on an individual.

But let’s face it, as I get older(and more bitter), I begin to notice just how asinine many of our fellow humans can be.  Is it wrong to suggest sterilization for the stupid?

Today, I have read about, heard about and otherwise witnessed human idiocy in action.  And I must say, I witness stupidity on a regular basis, but today was saturated with good old fashioned dumb ass activity.

I was walking down the street and noticed a woman stumble in front of me.  I knew the stumble, I’ve done that stumble: it’s the stumble where you are wearing shoes you can’t really walk in for the sake of fashion.  Naturally, I gazed down at her feet.  The woman’s ankle was wrapped for what I can only assume is a sprain or a healing broken ankle  and she was wearing 4-inch, open-toed, open backed wedges.   I understand fashion, I do.  Yes, they were nice shoes but quite frankly, I’d rather wear runners and avoid further injury such as, oh, a broken leg, or maybe a smashed skull.

Shortly after wedge-woman, I encountered a woman with an arm in a sling(maybe these injuries are signs of previous idiocy, who knows?).  She was carrying a rather large backpack – the kind you use to go camping – which looked heavy as it was hanging low and she was supporting it on only one shoulder.  That would seem like a smart idea, right?  Well, it would if she weren’t wearing it on the same side as the sling. Genius.

For the final case of complete lack of intelligence, I will refer to a news paper article:
A few weeks ago, a young man was stabbed, beheaded, cannibalized and cut to pieces on a Greyhound bus.  My heart goes out to the family of that young man and to the people on that bus who had to experience that horrid display.
I won’t speak of the idiocy of the man responsible, because I’m sure it’s fairly clear that he is not only void of intelligence but also of sanity.
I am referring to a church group from Kansas.  I’m not attacking religion, or any city in America here; only this specific church group.  I am usually fairly level headed when reading news stories, but this article angered me so much, I was shaking and red in the face.
The church group plans to protest at the young victim’s funeral stating that the reason he died was that “God” was punishing Canada for it’s laws and tolerance regarding abortion, homosexuality and adultery.  Apparently, this group has also been known to protest outside soldiers’ funerals.  Their actions not only pass far beyond simple human idiocy, but obliterates human decency.  They demand to be acknowledged in their beliefs and respected, yet they have no respect for others.
Luckily, if the lunatics are raging at the border, the border guard has orders to refuse them access to Canada.  However, it will be impossible to prevent all of them access so, forces have been made readily available to stop them should they attempt to display their ignorance.  Defense, not offense; they will not seek the members of the less-than-humane group out, but should any appear, they will be ready to stop them.
Here’s hoping the police use tasers on them.  Preferably in the genital area.

I don’t claim to be supremely intelligent, nor do I say that I have never done anything stupid, but I still don’t come from the shallow end of the gene pool where all the dirt and debris collects and festers.

(Note, that despite the fact that chlorination implies cleansing, I, by no means, think to take it to a Jihad level. I won’t go about trying to eliminate all the stupid people in the world.  Really, if I did, who would run our countries and be our teeny-boppers’ drug-riddled-crotch-flashing-pop-singing-reality-TV-role-models?)

It’s Only Life

My, how time flies.
It’s been a while since I last blogged..and I realize that’s becoming a pattern: sporadic blogging.  Maybe that’s why I feel a bit off…the lack of writing.

Life. Good ole fucking life.  I swear somewhere, the powers that be are snickering and plotting the next twist in my life.  It seems that nothing can ever happen normally to me.
Mind you, I don’t really mind.  Life would be boring if I didn’t have to fight my way through the whole damn thing..I dig myself deep and scramble to find a way out.  I know I’m not the only one, in fact, one of my closest friend’s and I had this very discussion earlier today.

I’m not complaining about what life has thrown at me this time.  I’m just amazed.
You know that feeling that you are always the last to know about something?  I had that feeling last Thursday, when in a drunken stupor I blurted out the dreaded “L-word”.
Yes. I said it. The “L-word”.
My closest friends have been telling me it was there and that it definitely wasn’t one sided.  I refused to believe them, saying that I had things under control and despite the mutual caring, it was not love. 
Everyone knew before I did.
Granted, I was drunk. Very drunk.  Drunk in the sense that I could not gauge the distance to the floor, and I also left a very nice splatter on the ground behind a restaurant, and in the sense that I have a haze surrounding the whole night and fail to remember the whole thing.
Granted, he was drunk, too.  But, he said it back.

The next morning, while still drunk we had a hurried discussion before my ride left to go out of town for a bachelorette party, and I assured him he could still take it back.

The next day, we spoke on the phone, and I again, assured him he could take it back and that people often say things they don’t mean they were drunk.  He then asked me if I wanted to take back.  I didn’t.  And neither did he.

Now for the twist and the reasons for godly snickering.  We are both terrified of this “L-word”, we are both terrified of being in a relationship, and worse, we both don’t want to think about next July.  Next July, I move away, I have wanted to move to this new town my whole life, and come next July, it’s the perfect opportunity. 
But that was before him.

Part of me wants to stay. And the other part is beating the part that wants to stay with a stick and demanding that I go.  Again, a dilemma.  Again, a hole I’ve dug myself into.

He’s only a boy.
But he’s the boy I love.

Clarity.

After receiving a slew of questions regarding my last post, I figured I should clarify a few matters.

It’s funny, I got about ten million congratulations on jumping the gun and being in a relationship, and also people wondering who this guy was and so on.  I also found out through the grapevine that others have read my post and assumed that I was suddenly in a relationship.
Also, it makes me laugh that people who have proclaimed themselves as being done with me and staying out of my life, find it in their time to go about reading my posts.  I’m an open book, so I don’t care. I just think it’s funny.

Now for the clarification portion of the evening:
1 – In no way does “seeing” someone mean that I am in a relationship.  It means that we are exploring our options, enjoying time together, without commitment.
2 – In no way does “having it bad” for someone dictate the dreaded L-word(you know the one…that evil word).  I am not in love, nor am I falling in love.  I like him.  I do like him a lot, mind you, but that does not mean love. 
3 – We’re not dating, nor will we ever date.  Circumstances won’t allow for anything substantial, and we are both aware of that, and totally okay with it.  We’re playing things by ear, and have both told each other that we want nothing to do with a committed relationship.  I will never call him my boyfriend and he will never call me his girlfriend. (Except for those two times, we decided to date, woke up the next morning, looked at each other and pretty much laughed, calling the whole thing off.)

I’m allowed to have my fun.  I’m allowed to see someone without the “relationship” being scrutinized and analyzed under a microscope.

PS: Stop reading up on me.  You said you were done with me.  How about acting on what you say?

Bingo, Booze and Borat?

Well it’s been a while, hasn’t it?

I guess I’ll get back into the blogging groove by recounting my weekend.

This weekend, I travelled from my home in North Bay to Timmins, mostly because my friend was having a surprise bridal shower on Saturday but also, because I miss my friends. A lot.

We drove up Friday and ended up leaving later then we intended, which means we only got into town around 11pm.  At which time, we then proceeded to fill ourselves with drive-thru goodness because we hadn’t really made any stops on the way up.

When I got home, I realized, oh my, all of my clothes, my son’s clothes and our bags smell of beer.  In a big way.  My friend Kay(who was driving) had accidentally broken a bottle of beer in the trunk of the car the day before and the smell managed to infiltrate everything I owned.(Not to mention that we could smell it in the car…bad news if we had gotten stopped, but luckily we didn’t)

I had to do laundry the minute I walked in…and this time I hadn’t really brought laundry with me…All my clothes were clean…They just smelled of beer.

By the time I was home, it was too late to really call anyone to go out, so I decided to have a quiet night in and catch up with my mom.  After she had gone to bed, I stayed up a little later, to finish my laundry.  I then tried to go to bed, but couldn’t sleep.  When 4 a.m. rolled around, I thought I would watch some TV and would probably fall asleep in front of it.  When 8a.m rolled around, and everyone was getting up, I realized that I thought wrong.

I had so many plans for Saturday, that I knew I wouldn’t get the chance for a nap, so I made some coffee and proceeded to drink the entire pot.
I helped my mom out with a “yard sale” she was having, which was actually being held in the basement.  The door to the basement is immediately to the right of our door and there was a giant sign on the door stating that, however, I stayed upstairs to make sure that no one went wandering around the rest of the house, and yes, people tried.  Someone even attempted to try on my shoes. No! Those are mine. Sale is downstairs.  Some people’s gene pools require a lot of chlorine.

After the sale, I rushed around the mall to pick up a last minute gift for my friend’s wedding shower and try to get ready before it started at 7.  I got harassed by the handcream guy but luckily I looked as busy as I was and he didn’t push any further when I told him I was running late.  After the mall, I shoved half of a sandwich in my face, wrapped the gift, showered, shaved and changed outfits 3 times.  It was too hot for pants, but to my dismay, my legs were covered in bruises.  I decided I didn’t care and threw on a skirt anyways.

The wind was terrible and my legs got whipped with gravel…not to mention the other exposed skin.

I got to the shower later then I was expected to be there, but I was still early enough not to ruin the surprise.
When the person going to pick up the bride-to-be showed up and told us she was going to get her, and we would have approximately 15 minutes, I took advantage of that fact and went out for a cigarette. While I was standing outside with a friend, a dog came running towards us, and proceeded to stick his nose up my skirt (not the only beast that evening who would try to get up my skirt). I then informed the dog that it was cute, but I didn’t know it well enough and had only had one drink. Haha. The dog stuck around for a while and entertained us chasing leaves and garbage blowing in the wind. In the midst of telling the dog it was cute and that I wanted to take it home, it stopped threw up and kept jumping around. It sounded a lot like this: “Aw, you are so cute, puppy. I want to take you ho-uh, never mind.”

So we head back inside the bar to wait for the bride-to-be.  By this point I had already started drinking because the shower was held in a rentable pool hall.  By 8:30, I was a little more then drunk.

During games, we played bingo and had styrofoam stars and moons as pieces to mark our squares.  Jessie(bride to be) and I monopolized the stars.  At some point I had voiced that I was going to the bar after the shower and would stick the stars in my bra and use them as confetti at the bar.  My friend Jen(who was also feeling might good), said it would be great if I screamed “BINGO” while I did this, and me being me, I also decided that since they were in my bar anyways, I might as well flash people while I did it. 

I was then told I should have a test run.  My friend’s mother, flagged down a male waiter who was coming from the stock room to head back downstairs and informed me I should test it on him.  Reluctanlty, I ran my first breast bingo…and many…MANY pictures were taken.  The waiter told me it was effective but I should try it again, to perfect it.  So I did. And we have some amazing action shots of the whole thing.

At one point I had gone to the bathroom and the second I pulled my underwear down, a styrofoam moon fell to the ground.  So I came out asking people why there were moons in my underwear, only to reliaze it must have fallen out of my shirt.

After the festivities, we took some sultry photos on the pool table, and headed to the bar.  But not before I stuffed some stars in my pocket.

At the bar, I must have had a flashing sign over my head that screamed “EASY” because so many people tried to pick me up.  One in particular, followed me around the dance club like a puppy dog.
Apparently while I was away from Timmins, a memo had gone out to all the horny bastards that a specific line should be used to pick up girls.  Every guy who tried to pick me up each said word for word “you are a very attractive woman.”  It’s nice to hear, but by the third guy, I began to say “I know” and walk away.

After the bar, my friends and I headed to Subway for some post-bar food.  I stayed outside to finish a cigarette and was immediately targeted by another guy.  Sitting on the front steps of Subway, he sat beside me and proceeded to hit on me, again, using the same line.  This guy wouldn’t leave, so I humoured him.  He had me turn around for him and then looked at me, and used a very Borat “Very nice”(which I has actually heard several times that night).  I then decided to go inside to my friend’s before he requested some “sexy time”.  After Subway the guy outside tried to drag me into a cab (which he stole from my friend) to go party with his friend.  I enlisted his friend to get him into the cab and off of me.  He then instructed the cab driver to stop on the highway to yell out his window at me that I should get into the cab.  He kept insisting, so at that point, I yelled at him: “Sorry if I lead you on honey, but I’m a lesbian”, but that didn’t get through to him apparently so I leaned into the cab and told him: “I like pussy.  You don’t have what I want, and you have something that I really don’t want.”  The cab driver thoroughly enjoyed this and laughed, giving me the thumbs up, when I told him to drive away.

A friend and I then decided to go to an after party, but stop at another house before to pick up another friend.  At this house, the friend was passed out and we found out that the person throwing the after party failed to go home.

After this, my friend decided to go home, and I decided to go see the boy I’m seeing who was drinking with a friend.
Arriving at this house at about 4:30a.m, I find him as drunk as I am, jumping around screaming death metal.  The trouble here, is that the friend he was hanging out with, and I hooked up a while back and things were mildly awkward, but not too bad.
We walked to a nearby corner store to get smokes, and the boy I’m seeing bought the Aviator, so we popped it into the DVD player and started to watch it.  My boy, then came to snuggle with me on the couch and fell asleep on top of me.
While he was sleeping on me, his friend decided it would be a good idea to proposition me.  I kindly declined.

The friend had to work at 9 a.m, so he left and just instructed us to lock up.  I knew that if I fell asleep, I wouldn’t wake, so I stayed awake and finished the movie.
At about 10:30, I called for a ride, and struggled to wake up the drunk boy who was sleeping on me.

I went home, got ready, packed, and headed to a BBQ a friend that I hadn’t seen since I left in September, was having.  At this point, it was my third day without sleep.

I had a plastic lei in my purse that was so mangled it was now only a plastic purple string.  My friend Ray, who had given it to me the night before, then placed it in my hair, and I announced that I felt like a princess.  I then became princess of the rock I was sitting on.  Shouting out “I am Princess of this rock, and all you in my kingdom below shall bow down before me!”  We then hung the string from the tree and I fashioned into a subpar noose, jokingly.

At this point, I was so sleep deprived that I was mentally unstable. Which I was ok with. 
I had a visit with my friends and went home to finsih packing because our estimated time of departure was at 6pm.  When 7 rolled around, I was told it would be at 8.  We ended up leaving close to 9.

I didn’t sleep in the car ride home.  When I got home, at about 2a.m., with my son and my boy, I found a dead hornet and proceed to freak out, because I am allergic to their stings in a big way.  I actually fell asleep that night and then became unwakeable the next morning. (today)

I found about 5 more dead hornets.  I don’t know how they are getting in, but they seem to get in and die, which is quite fine with me.  Better them then me.

I haven’t found anymore yet, and I’m hoping it was only a very few that got in, and no more are coming.

On other notes:

I realize my last post was about me quitting smoking.  Well that hasn’t happened yet.  I don’t have it in me yet, and I have far too much stress to stop right now.
I still have yet to find a job.  It seems the job market here is terrible, or I have somehow, with all my credentials, become unhireable.  It saddens me, and stresses me out that much more.
Also, I have it bad for a boy…for the boy…the boy in the post, and in previous posts.  But we’re quite happily taking it slow.

Again? What the hell? An update.

I know it’s typical of me, but here goes nothing…

I’m quitting smoking…again…the last time I lasted about a month, but then I got hit by a truck and have been smoking again ever since that faithful day. November 30th.

Well, I’m trying to quit again…for several reasons:
1. Money is insanely tight and I’ve gotten into chain smoking due to the stress of school. I go through 2-5 packs a week. Which amounts to about 200$ a month on smoking, if not more, which means about 2,400$ a year. That pays 3 and a half months of rent.  So yeah, I’m attempting to push away this expensive, and bad habit.
2. Health is a big issue.  I’m always sick and cancer runs in my family in a big way.  So I’ve decided to quit for my health as well.
3. My weight is an issue I’ve been tackling a lot lately.  I’ve lost quite a bit just by changing my eating habits and taking diet pills but with smoking, my lungs and energy levels have taken a hit so exercise is kind of difficult…and when I find myself running for 2 and half blocks to catch a bus and am out of breath for a few minutes and my legs are wobbly for about 10 minutes…it’s time to quit.
4. Long term goals…I’ve always wanted to run a marathon or at the very least a half marathon…but with my lungs..well that’s out of the question.  I have bad lungs to begin with (health stuff I won’t really get into) so running is difficult enough as it is, but with smoking as much as I have been, it’s not even an option.
5. The major reason, which compiles all the other reasons into this last one, is my son.  I want to set a good example for him.  He already knows that smoking is bad because of all the no smoking signs and the fact that I tell him it’s no good.  I want him to grow up in a healthy household and I want to be there for it, and to be able to keep up with him. Not to mention have the cash to do it.

So my last cigarette is sitting in a pack in front of me, and I’ll smoke it before I go to bed.

Tomorrow I’m going cold turkey.  It’s not fun, but I’ve done it before(not that I have anything to show for it right now…).  If I can find something to take over my time, I should be ok…I’ll probably start cleaning or working out when I get a craving.  So by the end of the week my place should be spotless. Haha.

I’m still looking for a job, which is difficult because I can only work days Mondays to Fridays because of daycare.  I can very well go to work and leave a 4 year old(5 in two weeks) alone, can I?  And in terms of sitters, everyone else has their lives to tend to, which is fine with me.  So I went and applied to the local Teletech…I worked at the one in Timmins, and that was an interesting experience…nothing spectacular but it’s a job, right?

School is basically over for the year.  I have a few more things to hand in before the 30th and then my first year of Advertising is over.  Then, comes the waiting.  I wait to see if I passed everything, which I think I should.
If I didn’t pass…well I’m leaving.  Some may call it running away, I call it a new beginning.  If I don’t pass my classes, it means I can’t return next semester or graduate because I’ll be missing some necessary credits, so what’s the point?  I could take it second semester of second year, but I’ll be on placement, so I really can’t see myself doing that.
If it so happens that I fail, I’m going to Montreal. Far away from here, where I know almost no one.  Maybe that’s what I need. A REAL fresh start.  Other than school, there’s nothing holding me here. No one has asked me to stay and I don’t expect them to, even though it would be nice.  I know I’ll be missed by some, I’ve been told that, and of course, I will miss many of the friends I’ve made here, but friendship isn’t reason enough for me to stay in a town that I don’t particularly like anymore.  Friendship can last the barriers of space, that was proven to me when I moved here, away from my many friends in Timmins.  They are still dear to my heart, and we still keep in touch.

Tomorrow, I’m going to do a few things that I am not too proud of, that I am not looking forward to doing, but as much as I’ve tried to avoid them, I can’t think of a way around it right now.

I’m aggravated with myself, and I kind of hate myself for doing it, but my future, hell, my present is on the line right now…so it has to be done.

Wish me luck in life. Apparently, I need it. I suck at life.

You live, you learn; You lose, you win

Over the years, like anyone else, I’ve lost some friends, and gained some new ones.

I realize that if I lost the friends, I really didn’t consider them worth fighting for in the first place.

People who had once been an integral part of my life and let something ridiculously mediocre get between us and ruin what should have been true friendship, don’t matter to me.

Those who are out of my life are out of it for a reason. I don’t need their drama, I don’t need their childish ways, and I certainly don’t need their pathetic tantrums when they aren’t the center of attention.

It’s funny how I’ve moved on and some haven’t.  I suppose that is what happens to spoiled children when they are no longer the center of everyone’s universe. Guess what? It’s not all about you.

Luckily for me, I have real friends, I have a support system and I have everything I need. Minus the crap I had to sift through to find that.

It would be nice if people got over themselves and realized that there are more important things in the world then themselves.

Also, a little civility would be nice.  I’m a civil person to those who have left me in the dust, but apparently I’m a dying breed.

Religion 101

So I may not know a lot about religion, but I do know more than a lot of people.

I have taken course after course, and read book after book. I’ve researched and spent sleepless nights wondering, calculating, analyzing.

There are some things that I do know for facts and it’s that those in a particular religion, those who are truly dedicated, will refute anything you tell them, they will refute whatever you may tell them that could possibly falsify their beliefs. I understand this. I really do.

I was raised as a Roman Catholic and I truly believed.  I was a good little Christian, I went to church every week, prayed in the morning, at meals, and before bed and more importantly, I kept my questions to myself.

As I got older, religion seemed questionable to me. I began to ask questions, and in doing so, alienated a great many people.  I learned to keep my questions to myself again.  But eventually, you begin to realize, you aren’t the only one who doubts that faith they were raised with. 

I began doubting my faith at a young age, though I still wanted to believe.  When you are a child and you’re told that you are being protected my some ominous great power, that you are being watched over, you feel safe.  When you begin to doubt your faith, it’s like going out on the ocean during a storm on a rickety canoe with no life jacket.
I wanted to believe, I wanted to be proved wrong. I wanted all my theories to go to shit, and to have some powerful bright hand come down on me and tell me to believe and tell me that “He” was there and that I was not alone. That never happened.
Around 15, I began to stop hoping. And at 17, I stopped believing completely.
This is why:

At 15, I began to discover that I was not alone, and I found the safety that had been lacking in my life with people who encouraged my free thought, who really listened to my religious theories.  They even started to believe what I believed! I didn’t want to be the founder of some new religion but it was nice to see that there was some validity in what I was thinking.
It was like that for quite some time.
At 17, my father went into the hospital. This was nothing new, because he’d been sick for a long time and would have sporadic spurts in the hospital. This, was however the last time, and he would never come home.
When my mother came home and told me he was unresponsive, I screamed, and cried and threw the most childish fit you’ve ever seen. And then, I prayed. I didn’t stop, I prayed. I begged god to let me keep my daddy or to at the very least let me say goodbye.  That didn’t happen.  I didn’t get to say goodbye to my daddy, I didn’t get to tell him that I loved him and that I was sorry for the times I treated him so miserably. And I was. I was so sorry.
The day I had to say goodbye to my father’s cold body was the day I stopped believing almost completely.
When he was in the funeral home, I retreated into the chapel by myself. I sat there, in the back of the dark empty chapel, and had a one-sided argument with the cross at the front. Begged for some answers. Cried, even screamed, and I got nothing.
I no longer believe in this Christian god.

I’m not bashing those who believe. I understand why you believe, and I’m not trying to convert you.  I’m just giving my reasoning.

The sudden onset of wanting to write this post was because i spent the better part of an hour Facebook creeping a religious group.  The pictures that were posted were very anti-religious, adn the comments on them were terrible.  There’s a vindictive onslaught of arguments and hatred.

I understand the validity in ALL religions. I have studied and in fact based my belief system upon many religions.

Is it so hard to live and let live? Is it so hard to let others believe what they may in peace, and have your own belief system?

I have no problem with other religions, as long as no one tries to convert me to them. 

I just wish everyone could get along.  I may not believe what you do, but at least I respect the fact that to you, it’s everything.  It would be nice if others could do the same.

Oh, What a Night…

It’s amazing how you can have a preconceived notion of someones personality in “difficult” situations, and it turns out to be nothing like what you had in mind.

Last night I had several interesting experiences with human nature, and misconstruing meanings.  One will be kept to myself but the other needs to be out there.

I have a friend, whom I thought of as a gentleman.  He’s a wonderful man, a gentle, kind hearted, successful, attractive, intelligent and generally amazing person.  At one point, because of all of this, I had considered him a “prospect”(kind of crude isn’t it…but I suppose you get what I mean…).

Approximately a year ago, we kissed(OK well things were slightly more “heated” then just kissing but come on, I don’t kiss and tell…Or rather, I don’t kiss and blog…OK, so sometimes I do…That’s enough! Haha.), but though I was attracted to him as a person, there was a grand total of zero chemistry, no fireworks, no sparks. Hell, there wasn’t even a shimmer of the possibility of any fire.

Last night I had this terrible feeling, I just didn’t feel comfortable in my apartment, I felt like I was being watched, or that something just wasn’t right.  I was pretty creeped out, for lack of a better term.  I told him this, and being the gentleman he is, he came over to make me feel more at ease.

Well, it turns out that he had been drinking, and he assumed that his chivalrous act deserved a booty call. Well, nay, sir, NAY!
I tried politely turning him down while he attempted to do what I can only assume is eat my face, and then I, a little less politely, tried pushing him away when he held my arms down and clamped down on my neck(and I was in a weakened state due to medication for my sore back). At this point, I nearly shoved him down my stairs.  I told him enough was enough and that he needed to go home and get some sleep.  And the gentleman that I always knew, kindly turned and left.  I watched him leave, and locked my door.

At about 2:30 that morning(I was still awake…sleepless due to the sudden unexplainable creepiness factor of my apartment)there came a knock on my door.

I won’t go into details but there was a hushed, yet heated argument, and I after threatening to scream didn’t work, I threatened to call the police, which sent him on his way and left me feeling empty with a sore arm and clenched jaw.

It’s funny how people can misconstrue meanings so easily.  I suppose he thought I wanted him because I agreed to let him come over to “protect” me…
I am an incurable flirt though, but I’m sure I didn’t lead him on.

I doubt I’ll speak to him again.  He scared me, and I don’t deal well with overbearing men.

I’m going to start watching my signals, watching my words, generally being careful about what signals I may send out.

(Oh and on a side note: never, and I really mean NEVER, have serious discussions with people you care about on MSN or any other chat dealie…Words are far too easily misconstrued there, intonations can’t be considered, and meanings get messed up. Discussions turn into arguments which turn into full blown fights.  Luckily, for me, my mistake is pretty much fixed. Yay.)

Why Don’t You Give Me Some Love?

Give Me Some Love – James Blunt

Me and my guitar play my way
It makes them frown
The little pieces by the highway
Bring me down

Mine is not a heart of a stone
I am only skin and bone
Those little pieces are little pieces of my own

Why don’t you give me some love
I’ve taken a shipload of drugs
I’m so tired of never fixing the pain
Valium said to me
I’ll take you seriously
And we’ll come back
As someone else
Who’s better than yourself

Many faces at the doorway
All hang around
Watch me fight in the hallway
But make no sound
So standing all alone
And I’m only skin and bone
So many faces but they all look out for their own

Why don’t you give me some love

I’ve taken a shipload of drugs
I’m so tired of never fixing the pain
Valium said to me
I’ll take you seriously
And we’ll come back as someone else
Who’s better than yourself

Why don’t you give me some love
I’ve taken shipload of drugs
I’m so tired of never fixing the pain
Valium said to me
I’ll take you seriously
And we’ll come back as someone else
Who’s better than yourself today

And someday
Soon they’ll drop the bomb
Let it all out
Someday!
I know that someday
Soon we’ll all be gone!
So let it all out!
Let it all out today!

And give me some love
Yeah give me some love
Come give me some love, today…

******************************************************************************************************

This song definitely speaks to me, hell, this song could have been written for me.
“Why don’t you give me some love, I’ve taken a shipload of drugs. I’m so tired of never fixing the pain.”
Really, nothing helps.  I’m beginning to think that I’m one of those people, one of those “depressed people”.  The ones who can never truly be happy.  I’ve tried just about everything. 
And yes, I can hear you muttering under your breath: “Well, if she knows she’s depressed, why doesn’t she just take some anti-depressants?”  And I’ll tell you why: because I have tried them already, and guess what? They don’t work either.  My doc and I played around with dosages and he kept a close watch on me. No matter the dosage, no matter the type, it never quite worked for me. 
I’m worried it might be self-sabotage.  Is it possible that I truly don’t want to be happy?  Isn’t it human nature to want to be happy?

I’m fucked up. Seriously. So why don’t you give me some love?