Ahh Romance...

I just got and email from My "former" Crush. (Okay, maybe, but only maybe, I still want to pull him into the elevator and have my way with him when I see him, but I digress.)

Hi Kate,

I am wondering how many lessons this family has paid for. The mother keeps asking me to give her son, extra lessons so that he can "catch up." Were his lesson fees pro-rated because he started late?

Thanks,

Your "former" Crush.

Too romantic for words. I'm swooning!

It's Official

The large, perfect Museum has rejected me.

The rejection came in the form of a letter sent through the mail. Quite the throw-back. It was dejecting, but I guess I knew it was coming seeing as it had been two weeks since the initial interview.

It was slim envelope and I had flashbacks to college acceptance time, when the slim envelope would strike fear into the heart of any high school senior.

Except I got into every college I applied to. I'm always a late bloomer.

On another note, I've made a connection with a young Canadian. This could be interesting.

One of Those Days

Why is it some days, for no reason at all, you just want to scream until your throat is raw? Or until that lone tear runs down your cheek and under your chin you don't even know you're crying, never mind WHY you're crying? Then all of a sudden you're scrambling to wipe the lone drop from existence before someone can see and give you that sympathetic look that would only make more fall.

Even though there are gym and dinner plans you just want to run home and hide under your covers reading without thinking.

And when I say "you" I mean me.

The frustration is getting to me. I make a conscious decision to make changed in my life, and that all well and good, but what happens when the universe will not comply?

I don't know how much longer I can stay at this job. I know I'm not the fist one to hate there job, but I've been here too long, and I can't stand it anymore, mentally or physically. I've already thrown up twice on the way to work, (absolutely not fun whatsoever) and about three times before leaving for work. Yes its gross.

I'm tired of waiting. Tired of waiting for the large museum to call me back, tired of waiting to hear from G, and tired of thinking that I will hear from him, that maybe this one time I wasn't that disposable, never to be thought of again.

I suppose I'm too sensitive, or at least I have been lately.

I've been acting unlike myself, snapping at J about the shower, getting angry at M for not defending my honor after some random kid made disparaging remarks about my chest, of course not using chest as the word, but the extremely offensive word to my ears, that rhymes with "bits." (I'm shuddering as I type this.)

I just need to get a grip. I mean honestly Kate, get a grip.

Even as I'm wrapping up this post, I'm feeling slightly better. It must have been the grocery store artificial mini-cupcake with the plasticine-tasting frosting that is now coursing through my blood stream.

I'm going to go balance that out with a cup of green tea.

Thanks for listening to my mini-breakdown.

Why, Good Lord? Why?

Another J classic for your reading pleasure.

"It's ok. I know that. Just realize that I haven't changed anything since the summer. Last week, I was laying in bed while you were getting up later. I figured you might just be sad or something and hitting snooze. I went late to work everyday, but I didn't want to make a deal out of it. Then when it happened yesterday, that's why I asked if something changed. It did - your work schedule.

So, again, no biggee...if you want to sleep later, I'll just get up 10 min. earlier. I'm only in the bathroom for 10 minutes if that. I just can't get into the shower at 7:55. Then I'm big time rushing when I get out. I am supposed to be getting up at 7:37, but I snooze for 10 minutes because 7:47 is the absolute latest I can get up and make it on time to work (and that is with rushing). You always used to get up at 7:15 and be done showering by 7:32ish

--> I know because the shower is right near my head. I hear when you turn on the fan, then the shower then when you're in the medicine cabinet. That's the unfortunate part of sleeping with your head next to a thin wall next to the bathroom."

All I had written was "Sorry I snapped this morning, I'm not good in the morning" and that was what I got in return. All I really got out of this was "Blah Blah Blah...Blah Blah Blah"

It is seriously exhausting!

Hopes Down

Well there it was. The re-posting of the job that I had been coveting all week. That can't be a good sign. I haven't heard a word and now I have no reason to think that I may.

Chalk it all up to experience.

Off to New Hampshire this weekend. Everyone left with out me again so I have to trek up there on my own after work. My job is so ridiculously inflexible. That is one of the reasons I want to leave so badly.

Oh well! Back to the drawing board.

I'm trying not to be disappointed, but as soon as I saw the job title again, just posted yesterday, my heart dropped into my stomach. I just feel like I always have negative news. I want to share something that people will be excited to hear or I'm going to start to get a reputation for being a downer.

I'm trying hard to make changes for the better, but sometimes I get the feeling that the universe is against me.

Sigh, hopefully New Hampshire will revive me a little.

Interview the Second

I applied for this particular job back in January. When I got the call I let it go to voicemail thinking it was the most recent job I had applied for at the local zoo. (Fun huh?)

I checked my voice mail as soon as the indicator sounded and was surprised to hear back from the large museum within walking distance to my apartment. If the HR girl (trust me she is a girl) hadn't left the name of the position I would have has no clue for which job I had applied. I had to scramble around looking for the cover letter that was sent, the job description that had obviously piqued my interest and when I had actually sent all my information.

A Ha! January! It was now March. I feel better about being just a little clueless. I was excited about this prospect. The location was ideal, the benefits a dream come true, full medical, dental, a full week more of vacation. Sigh, good on paper.

The interview was arranged for nine days later. NINE! Just enough time to induce full panic mode. It was also enough time for me to get a new fancy suit, which I love and which I had retained enough patheticness after the G debacle to have my mom offer to pay for it. Score!

So my last two weeks have included interview preparation, the G bomb, and trying to coordinate a trip to NJ to see a friend who lives there with two of my friends who live here. They were leaving on Wednesday, my interview was on Thursday; therefore, I was on my way to NJ on Friday morning on a train, but that's just an annoyance I don't want to recount, I just want to forget about it. Not the train ride itself, I'm in love with the train, but the build up to the trip.

Speaking of trains I'm getting off-track.

Thursday comes, I bolt work early, citing I had to catch the train Thursday afternoon. I arrive at the HR office of the large museum five minutes early and sit and wait. For TWENTY-FIVE minutes! Of course I was nervous and warm and feeling a little uncomfortable to the point where I had to remove my fabulous suit jacket and discretely fan out my shirt in a failed attempt to cool myself down. Luckily I had armed myself with copious amounts of deodorant and body splash.

I'm not good when I'm nervous.

Finally the HR girl emerges from her prior exit interview, apologizes for being late and says we can walk and talk seeing as the office that I'm interviewing for is across the street. She decided that this would save time.

Interviews are nerve wracking enough with out having to be mobile at the same time. Usually you can anchor yourself to the chair and try to look comfortable while being articulate. When you add in a busy street, big puddles and a tiny HR girl who keeps jumping against the wall because she is afraid of being splashed by a car, you have a whole different situation. The noise made it difficult to hear her questions, our pace made it difficult for me to answer smoothly, and crossing the busy street was just plain dangerous, but we made it. Phew! I had to grin and bear it and not focus on the fact that I get a little anxious about crossing busy streets when I am not at the designated crosswalk. (I know I'm a dork, but I am also a klutz and I'm always afraid I will trip in the middle and be squashed by an eighteen wheeler.)

I met with a man first. I forget his position, but I have his card somewhere.

I really felt comfortable talking with him, it seemed more like a conversation than an interview. He asked me questions about my prior employment and the rest just rolled from there. He asked me about my ideal office environment, and I told him about my current one and how I felt I could adapt to any situation. After I had told him a little about my current working environment he paused.

"That sounds stressful."

I laughed out loud. He had no idea, but I managed to wax poetically about handling the space and managing my time and how it had taught me that there was no problem that couldn't be solved. blah blah blah. I feel I actually did pretty well.

When he started to describe the working environment at this job, I started to get giddy.

My own cube? Privacy? A hands off manager? Laid back environment? Room to make the psition my own? Is this heaven? I refrained from actually asking that, but he could probably see the desire in my eyes.

I even made him laugh a couple of time, so I felt a sense of accomplishment from that.

From there I met with the woman who would be my direct boss, but she was in the middle of a grant crisis so she only had a few minutes to meet with me. I was relieved, but this part of the interview went well too. I didn't have to talk about my strengths and weaknesses and where I saw myself in 5 years and all that bull-loney.

So that's it. Interview number two. It went well by my view, I have no idea what they may be thinking.

At the risk of jinxing any possibility of getting this job, I will only say that it is quite possible that I maybe might think that this could in someways be a good fit for me and I maybe might be wishing very hard that I hear something positive very soon.

One Year

I have all these intentions and then I don't know where to start.

I could start with the interview, or I could start with my weekend trip to New Jersey or I could start with the fact that my assistant up and quit while I was gone. I mean seriously? I was gone for one and a half days and THIS is what happens.

I could also say how my little blog turned one year old on Saturday and I celebrated by having three Guinness in a little Irish bar in Hoboken, New Jersey. I'm actually surprised to see it turn a year. I figured it was something that would occupy me for a couple of days seeing as I set it up on a whim. Friday's at work are always notoriously slow.

Yet, here I am a year later and still writing. I wish I had the drive to write more often and I always promise myself I will, but things get in the way. Yes, the ambiguous things. In the next year I will try to write more. All the little post I start to compose in my head I will try put on to paper.

It seems like everything I'm trying to put into blog form. Its just when I think to start it or write it down, I lose focus or drive or usually my phone rings (because I'm at work.)

So there yah have it! One whole year.

I'm impressed with myself and that rarely happens!

Getting Angry

I'm not upset because G is dating someone else. I'm not so delusional that I didn't know that that would eventually happen.

I'm upset because of the way he approached the subject (over email) and the fact that he has some how twisted it around to make me think that I have done something wrong. (I haven't). The fact that he still would like to be friends, but "only on email for now" rubs me the wrong way. I'm not calling him five times a day so he has to tell me not to call. I haven't heard his voice since January.

Okay so maybe a few weeks ago had called him after a few (many few) beers at a Bruins game, but that's when I believed him to still be my friend. Obviously I was wrong.

A mutual friend asked me if I really expected more from "someone like G". (Emotionally stunted)

Well, g'damnit! I did! Why wouldn't I?

The bottom line is that I feel like I've lost my best friend. Did I really think I was going to end up with G? No. Did I think it would go beyond where it had? No. Did I hold on too long to this relationship? Absolutely!

He was just my rock for about a year and half. I told him everything that mattered. When I had news he was the first one I wanted to tell, I could vent to him because he was an outside observer.

Will we talk again? I'm sure we will. Its a little too open ended for me to be comfortable with, but I'm fine giving him the space he feels he needs.

I just can't shake the feeling of being cast aside.

Maybe I'm wrong?

Ending

Kate,

Yes I am home. I am sorry to hear that you did not get the job. I know there is something out there for you, you are too smart to not get something great.

On another note there is something I have to tell you. I have met someone, I did not mean to it just happened. I would still like to think we can be friends but we won't be able to talk as much as we used to, pretty much only by e-mail right now. I have been dreading telling you because I don't want to hurt you. I don't know what else to say right now. I will talk to you when you are ready. I am sorry.

G

Its a Start

I liked that my dad sounded genuinely shocked that I didn't get the job.

The call came this morning and I knew as soon as my cell phone started ringing that it was them calling to notify me of what they chose. I silenced my phone, letting it go to voice mail. I couldn't have had either conversation at work.

As I waited for the voice mail notification, I squeezed my eyes shut and chanted in my head, "Please don't give it to me, Please don't give it to me." It was the coward's way out. It wasn't my dream job, but one day at work after a particularly frustrating morning I shot out four job applications in quick successions. After I did so, I promptly forgot about them.

I was completely taken aback when I was offered and interview. It would be more of a lateral move, doing basically the same tasks and probably dealing with the same annoyances, but I had made a decision at the new year to stop whining about my job and to do something proactive about it. Applying was that. I hadn't really gotten to the second step.

I called back and set up the interview. As soon as I hung up the anxiety set in. It was two fold: anxiety about the interview process and anxiety about sneaking around at work, going to the interview and possibly giving my notice. I felt as if I were cheating.

The interview fast approached. I did the required research on the organization, an art school in the city, and tried to sum up my strengths and weaknesses, where I wanted to go in my career and all that other bull shit you have to spew in an interview.

I had done a test run the night before. It is a little dorky, but in the past I have found that it eases the tension a little. Getting there is half the battle.

The interview took place in a conference room with a large, extremely ugly glass conference table being supported by what looked to be a tree split in half. I was tense, but the three interviewers all seemed nice.

They started by reading a statement and saying they would ask me a series of questions that would take 35 to 40 minutes. I panicked a little. What a long time for an interview! Not to worry, I was out in 20.

But what did that mean!?

I obsessed about it for about 10 minutes before deciding there was nothing I could do about it. The questions had been predictable and I feel like I had represented myself well. It was over and done and I could always just look at it as good practise. Besides, I didn't even know if I wanted the job.

They called this morning citing they had offered the job to a "strong internal candidate." I wonder if they say that to all the candidates. "Its not you its us," sort of deal. To soften the blow and give you no reason to fault yourself. Now I can say, the only thing that was wrong with me was that I was not an internal candidate. Its like having a guy break up with you because he's gay. Well you can't help that you're not a guy. Okay maybe not QUITE like that, but you get the gist.

After hearing the message and experiencing a little disappointment mixed with relief I called my dad.

"You're kidding me." He said the shock apparent in his voice.

I appreciated it.

Once Bitten, Twice Shy? Probably a Good Idea!

The other day I was having an innocent conversation with My (former) Crush's roommate, who also works with me.

We were discussing the impending storm and our reluctance to drive in it and a optimism that there would be no work the next day. (HA! Wishful thinking)

In the middle of our begnine conversation the most random thought popped into my head.

"He totally knows I'm a biter."

To have that kind of though pop into your head during a conversation as mundane as the one that we were having is not easy to cover up. I mean seriously, I have no reason to be blushing over the weather.

So I bite sometimes while hooking up. I'm not vicious, I don't leave marks and it doesn't hurt, but for some reason I got this premonition that My (former) Crush may have kissed (bit) and told. (Yes there was some return nibbling). I was slightly embarrassed seeing that I don't know this roommate very well and he is privy to some private information on me.

Oh well! Haven't had any complaints before.

Though I did leave a vicious mark on G the first time we hooked up. The kind of mark that prompted the shocked indignant response, "I did NOT do that!"

He just grinned, I think he took it as a compliment, as well he should have!

My Nomadic Adventures

Okay, so maybe its not much of an adventure, but for me, wearing the same pair of pants in one week to work is crazy.

I haven't been home since Tuesday morning because I am a big, fat wuss. I am afraid to drive in the snow or ice or sleet or (the horrors!) freezing rain. So for Tuesday night, the night before the stupid Nor'eastah, I imposed on the very agreeable GJ to sleep on her couch. She lives 5 minutes away from my work and the storm was supposed to be its worst during the morning rush hour. My commute isn't that bad, but its on the south east expressway, which is congested in the morning at best, its a raised highway, with horrible drainage. Its not even that I doubt my own ability to drive in the snow, I doubt everyone else's ability around me.

So as I watch the storm unfold around me yesterday while I was at work I started to get nervous about driving home. Listening to the people call in to make sure we were open, then berating me for being open because didn't I know that the streets were going to turn into sheets of ice? Yes I knew, well I knew because they were telling me, which in turn started to REALLY freak me out about my drive home.

I was supposed to go to C's house for dinner anyway and C lives midway between work and home so I asked to crash in her recently vacated second room.

My desire to not have to drive home to Cambridge ended up out weighing my desire to sleep in my own bed. I have a great love affair with my bed too, so you know that i had to have been really petrified.

I was prepared to crash at GJ's so I had all the necessary toiletries, PJ's, ONE change of clothes, and for some reason two extra pairs of underwear. The fact that I had enough foresight was the reason I could crash at C's. Because maybe I can wear the same pants, I would have to draw the line at underwear.

I was not disappointed either when i woke up this morning to a desolate frozen tundra outside. The street on which I was parked was a bumpy terrain of ice. Traversing that in my knee high boots produced mental images of me completely falling on my ass, but I managed to make it across to my poor frozen car.

Of course the doors were frozen shut.

After much cursing, pushing, pulling and grunting I managed to get the passenger side door opened, which allowed me to crawl into the car and kick open my driver's side door like any self-respecting New England girl would do. When in reality I just wanted to sit on the curb and cry, but I knew in doing so my tears would freeze my face and my butt would probably freeze to the curb.

Seriously!? Why do we insist on living here?

I blame my parents, as I do for most things.

So now I'm sitting here at work, in the same pair of pants I wore Tuesday and a borrowed sweater which allows my turquoise and green (discounted Victoria's Secret purchase) print bra show through at times, feeling a little discombobulated. I want my own bed, my own shampoo and conditioner, my hairdryer, my robe and most of all my razor, which I had forgotten. Ick!

What I Have Been Doing*

1. I got a migraine, while driving.

2. I got a nasty cold which involved my sinuses. Today is the first day I haven't felt like someone had jammed two steel rods up my nostrils, through my eyes and into my brain.

3. I became obsessed with Everwood and was unable to do anything after work except go upstairs to my room, lay in bed and watch it from 6-7. I cried at the series finale and the time has now been filled by 7th Heaven. I suppose now I can get back into going to the gym.

4. I have not heard from D.

5. I have not heard from G, until yesterday when he responded to my "Are you alive?" email.

6. I attended my Sister-in-law's 30th birthday party, which consisted of couples and babies.

7. I made a new friend. He watches TV with me. He's about an inch and a half long and even though I know he's dirty, I can't help but think about Stuart little and I don't want to kill him. Yesterday I gave him a peanut. I think he was grateful.

8. I got into a battle with my mother. It reminded me of high school and not in a good way. The result was me throwing my bottle of water across the room. It was open. I then stormed up stairs sobbing. Keep in mind I had a cold. It wasn't pretty, but it felt good after.

9. It's the first week of the spring semester. I hate my job.

10. I applied for four jobs last week. I have not heard back from any of them.

11. I learned, after another temper tantrum, how to fill up my tire. My dad has since used this story as an anecdote for his friends seeing as I was on the phone with him at the time.

12. I had to get four new tires. Not because of anything I personally did.

13. I really really want to get a pug puppy, but everyone seems to laugh at me when I bring it up. I want to name him Bob.

I think that pretty much sums it up.

*Not in any particular order

And So It Begins

I'm sitting on my couch, all cozy, because in this lovely town of Boston it was about 8 degrees, watching Access Hollywood, when my phone signals that I have a text message.

Hmm...I wonder who that could be?

It is of course D, the only person who texts me now a days.

"That you up to?" D is the WORST text messager ever. He doesn't pay attention and leaves me to decipher what he is trying to say. I think I even got a message sometime over the weekend with the word "wolf" in it.

I reply that I'm not doing much and I ask him what he's doing.

"Just got off work!" He's very excited I guess.

"Oh so late!" I have no idea what to respond to that, "How have you been?"

"I tend to work late! I'm good. How far do you live from the city these days?"

My radar goes up. I think our dear doctor friend may be looking for a little company and not the extended kind. I reply that I'm very close to the city now and ask him where he lives.

He replies with his street address and adds, "Want to come over for a drink and see the place?"

I pause, I really do want to hang out with him and see his new place, but I know I can't right now. There is no psychological reason and I'm not playing hard to get. The reason I can't see him right now is because I have a massive cold sore on the upper right corner of my lip. Its on its way out, but its at the flaming red scabby stage and I don't want our first encounter in six months to involve him politely ignoring It and me trying to hide It with my hair.

Before I can think of a response. (A was no help seeing he suggested that I "share the love") D texts me back.

"The only catch is that I told people from work that I would meet them out at 9:30-10ish."

Well that makes my decision much easier. Earlier in the week I had told J I would go check out a band with him, but I was probably going to back out of that, but it provided me with a valid excuse without have to admit to lip fungus. I was also slightly put out and confused. Not really being in tune with D and his intentions, I wasn't sure if that was "So you'll have to get the hell out before I go." or "We'll have to go out."

I was leaning more towards, the "You'll have to leave."

I was happy to get that text before I had responded. So I just sent a text telling him I already made plans with my roommate, but that we should get together soon.

It was met with silence until the next random texting session.

I'm sure it was just for a quick hook up or what ever, and I'm actually okay with that, but this was a little too quick, like he was fitting me in.

I have a tiny bit more self-respect than that, but this is not over. I will see his new place and find out the story of why he's back in Boston.

I will also have pretty lips at the time.

Cold

"I look at you and I see that you're a strong person. That's why I rely on you so much." J said to me the other night after I stopped him from talking incessantly about himself.

He's not right. I'm not strong. I'm good at pretending I'm strong.

He's referring to how I got over C. It wasn't magic or a testament to my strength it was a necessity and it was something that took time and effort, something that he really is not open to. He doesn't realize what it took for me or any person getting over a break-up, because he only talks about himself. I never talk about me, I don't like to drag my "feelings" out into the open and dissect them and examine them with friends or family. They are what they are and I am who I am.

In most ways I am a calm, rational, unemotional person. My Friend once told my my Native American name would be Stiff-As-A-Board. I'm not quite sure why that is. I've just always been guarded, stand-offish, unimpressed.

I don't like to be touched, I hate sharing a bed with someone I'm not having sex with, and I hate close talkers, never mind the double-threat, close talkers who touch you when they talk. Its not that I'm unfriendly, I'm very friendly and nice to a fault. I just have these barriers that I don't like people to cross.

While J talks at me all he likes, I draw the line at hugs, cuddling or any touching at all. I can't stand it. At firs he would insist on hugs and i would stand there all stiff armed, uncomfortable. Lucky for me a friend of his came back into his life who is affectionate and will hug him and sleep in his bed. (ick! that is just something I can't comprehend) so I've been spared the requests.

I remember looking at G while I was there, it was morning and he was trying to convince me to get out of bed to go get coffee, "This is the most human contact I have had in months." I confessed.

"Me too." We're the same in that way. We'll say goodnight and then roll to our respective sides of the bed, but I'm much more affectionate with him than anyone.

"I'm not like this back at home, you know."

He raises his eyebrows, doubting my words.

"Seriously, I'm not touchy at all. In fact, I can't stand it."

"Could have fooled me!" He chuckled.

I miss him.

I realized this last night laying in bed. I haven' t talked to him in two weeks due to his Japan trip. He's probably the best friend that I have right now. The one I feel most comfortable with. The one I can talk to about anything, vent to and not feel like I'm being judged. The one I can be vulnerable with and let down my guard with and know that he pretty much already knows all my faults and that I won't surprise him with anything. He knows my quirks, he knows me.

I have accepted our situation, but he has become one of those people who sticks in your life. He will always be there to talk to and even though it may not progress any further than it has, he will always be someone of great importance in my life.

He is also extremely generous, a fabulous gift giver and a free place to crash in San Diego.

Oh and I wouldn't kick him out of bed. Even us cold, unemotional people need a little human contact now and again.

You Know You Want My Living Situation

Because I'm lacking energy to try and be witty and comprehensive about my weekend, I'll just post this for now.

J sent this gem yesterday. Notice the subtle calling out of A.

Hey guys:>

So here's the thing....our heat bill sucks. P and A, I know I've bitched and moaned about keeping the heat low, but we HAVE to work harder at this (A). We've had a pretty easy winter so far, but it's going to get frigid before the end. This weekend, we should take one day as roommates and maybe get that plastic wrap or something. We gotta do something. I don't know if that would help, but do you guys have any other ideas?

To which A responded:

I think it goes without saying that when it gets cold you use more heating fuel. You're right that it has been a relatively mild winter, hence a lower heating bill. And I agree that when we're not home we should turn the heat down to 55-60 but I don't think 65-70 is unreasonable when we're home (which is what I have it set at). If you want to conserve you might want to consider taking the a/c's out of the windows which is where most of the heat is lost, especially when your running the fan all day. If you really want to save money you should look at cutting back on the cable bill. I'd rather pay more for heat and be comfortable than all the extras for tv that I dont use. Sorry but just because I'm still in college does'nt mean I want to live in a frat house freezing my balls off all winter!!!

Your Loving Friend,
A
xoxo

(Typo's and spelling errors left in tact.)

Hmmmm? I wonder what is zapping my energy?

Grace

My phone rang in the middle of the night last night, (okay so it was only 11:45, but it FELT like the middle of the night, as I had already been asleep for some time). I reached for it, somewhat confused, somewhat excited because random, middle of the night phone calls usually produce something interesting.

It was M, not so interesting. We had actually talked briefly earlier that night and he said he would call me back in an hour, he forgot and for some reason though that instead of calling the next day and apologizing, he would call at 11:45.

Doesn't he know I'm old?

So of course now that I'm woken up I have to use the bathroom, so I struggle out of bed and head towards it. J is in my (our) bathroom brushing his teeth, so I keep on going to the bottom floor, there are two steps to go and all of a sudden I'm on the kitchen floor.

I had missed the last two steps and fell straight down into a pile of fleece bathrobe and limbs. Because I was still half asleep I'm still not quite sure what happened, and then I finally comprehend that I'm on the kitchen floor because I FELL DOWN THE STAIRS!

I look around, because for some reason I feel like P and Legs witnessed my acrobatic manouver, but the whole area is dark so I stumble into the bathroom.

This whole time I'm still on the phone with M. He's still talking. He has talked through my tumble and has continued.

All of sudden he stops. "What are you doing? Did you stub your toe?"

"Umm something like that?"

If me falling down the stairs literally into a heap at the foot of them sounds like someone stubbing their toe, than I must be a more graceful klutz than I thought I was. I could have sworn I sounded like a heard of elephants. I was expecting someone to see if I was okay, but I was left to pick myself up. The floor was VERY cold!

This morning there were no visible bruises, but we'll see.

P.S. This post is dedicated to my friend S, who gets endless pleasure out of seeing me fall on my ass!

Seriously?

I'm just minding my own business, mooching off my parents for a few days, enjoying the last two days of my mourning period in isolation and out of the blue, I get a text message.

I tend to go into incommunicado mode when I'm visiting my parents. I revert into an 11 year old. I trail them around, Mom can I get this? Dad said I could! and so on and so forth. I never bring my cell phone, my bag, my wallet or money when I'm out with them.

We were out bulk shopping, one of my favorite activities and when I got home I casually glanced at my phone and noticed I had a message. Not expecting anything exciting, probably just a morose text from the ultra-depressed J, imagine my surprise to see the name D under the text message.

"You HAVE to be kidding me!"

My mom looks at me, her mom radar all a-flutter. I haven't heard from D since our moving texted goodbye in August. He was moving to Florida, he had bought a condo, (of which he kept showing me pictures even though I had already seen them all) and was taking a position at a St. Pete's hospital.

I basically figured I would never talk to him again. It had definitely fizzled out.

"How are you?" He inquired.

Two hours later I wrote back, "I am well, How are you?"

"Good. Guess what?"

"What?"

"I'm living in Boston again." My jaw literally drops. I have mixed feelings. My first is, "Oh good a distraction", my second is, "Oh damn, He's such a flake, this will probably be too frustrating."

We exchange a few more texts ending with my saying "We should catch up sometime" which is met with silence.

Let the frustration begin!

Then on Tuesday, (this all happened on Saturday.) I got a text from him saying "We should hang out some time!"

I'm pretty sure I had already suggested this, but I wrote back "Yah definitely, give me a call sometime."

We'll see how that goes.

This weekend is J's B-day weekend, maybe it will produce some interesting stories to jump start me back into blogging. Our screaming match in his car last night is not something I really want to relive right now.

I'll just say, he's such a fucking drama queen!

Mourning Period

I have allowed myself a brief mourning period to get over the loss of the holiday season and subsequently my return from San Diego.

I am mourning San Diego and the perfect time spent with G more so than the holiday, but I am only giving myself through the weekend, because I bring this all upon myself.

Monday is the "snap-out-of-it" day. The day I start eating right again, going to the gym and accepting the way my life is.

Right now I'm still stuffing anything I can get my hands on down my throat, lamenting the fact that I miss G and his cozy apartment and huge T.V., cursing the day I ever moved away from San Diego, and hating everyone I see in this god-forsaken area of the world.

Just the weekend and I'm done. I promise.

My New Career

I seriously must have "therapist" stamped on my forehead.

For some reason, J thinks its okay to pour his heart out to me about his relationship (or lack there of) with WG. Its been pretty constant for about 5 days now, and I don't think I can take much more. Fortunately, this is my last day of work until the New Year and I'm heading down to hide out at my parents house, so I may be able to avoid it.

Friday, I managed to avoid most of it by having dinner with C and then going to see the Holiday. J had called while I was in the movie. His response when I walked in the door was.

"Thanks for the call back!"

I stared at him for a moment, blinked a few times and went into the kitchen.

"Where were you?" He called after me.

"I was at a goddamn movie." The interrogation was getting to me. I had to work the next day, but I sat and tried to have a conversation with P, Legs and J. When the conversation turned into a J sob fest, I had to retired.

" I have to work tomorrow, I'm heading to bed."

J can't stand to be out shone. "Well try having to study all weekend for a test you have no idea about."

I sighed and threw him a disgusted look. "Yes J I realize that your life is SO hard and SO miserable. You win! Goodnight!"

Later P told me that Legs got a kick out of the way I dealt with J. Its the ONLY way to deal with him. If you give him an inch, he'll take a mile.

Saturday had me nodding constantly over dinner as he went on and on and on about this relationship. I told him my opinions about WG. I believe her to be self-centered, snobby, not very attractive, and mean, not to mention having a very high, unfounded opinion of herself. She hooked up with her ex boyfriend, which sent J into a tailspin of emotions, resulting in tears. There really isn't anything much more uncomfortable that a guy crying.

All I know is after seeing M cry, I was never fully attracted to him again.

Sunday he walked in all red faced. I asked him what was wrong and he dissolved into tears. I do the best I can, but I can't understand all this for a sub-par girl.

I asked him point-blank to tell me ten things that make this girl worthy of such a display of emotions. He didn't really know.

"She's just great."

"Why?"

"I don't know, she just is."

"You have no reasons? If you cannot write me ten reasons then you have no reason to be acting this way." I'm starting to get mean.

"Okay, fine." He picks up the pen and starts to write.

"Sex doesn't count." The writing abruptly stops and he drops the pen.

I don't know Kate."

He kept wanting hugs, and at one point I was trying to watch "Love Actually" to get in the Christmas mood, and he kept coming down from studying and talking AT me, and at one point he sat on the ottoman at the end of the couch I was sprawled on and hugged my feet.

I hate to be touched, I'm not a huggy, touchy feely person. Not to mention someone touching, actually hugging my feet. It was just awkward. I'm trying to be nice and there for him, but its exhausting, especially when the girl is NOT WORTH IT!

It was when he started going into his abandonment issues, and his issues with his mother and what a bad parent she was and all when I checked out. I can't handle all his issues that are stemming from an unhealthy relationship that I warned him about in the beginning.

There's something we must all remember. Excluding her OWN relationships, Kate is usually right!