November 28, 2010

So, that was that. Let's give a little applause and usher in the next contestant (as if there is even a next contestant! They're all cowering in fear in the corner of the studio, crossing themselves repeatedly). I'm not saying that there aren't any pretenders to the throne, it's just that it blows chunks to go back to ground zero and start dating apathetically again. I hate pretending to care, pretending to be interested, and that is what people usually do on first and second dates (and barf barf barf). I just want someone fresh and exciting and different. I want to get slam dunked by pheromones and this crazy desire to get naked and feel each other and propel ourselves to greater heights. I want an a passion that doesn't consume, but creates.

The thing that I realized (and maybe I had realized it before, but had forgotten along the way) recently is that it has been nice to be on my own, to be this single woman, but I've also missed having someone to share my life with. The minutae, the ordinary, the sharing of unicorn dreams and glitter and Wayne's World and silly inside jokes and pet names. A partner in crime, an explorer of thoughts, a buccaneer of feelings. I'm co-dependant, but at the same time crave this independence, or this respect as a woman. I don't want to be tamed.

I don't want to be subdued, to be underestimated and under appreciated. R-E-S-P-E-C-T and all of that other suffragette chatter and bra burning, but at the same time I want him to open doors for me and think about me as this tender creature who does get overwhelmed at times and who does need male help. I want him (whoever this Make Pretend Dude is) to be a Man, capital M and not a boy, not a boy/Man either. All right, maybe 65% Man and 35% boy.

Whatever, truth is I don't know what I want and it wasn't more evident than this weekend when I got into a fight with The Creative Hustler (and we'll call him that because he free lances and gets his money where he can) over my indecision regarding "us". I sent him to hell at 2am and then he shows up at my house at 5am grabbing tit and kissing neck. I play dead like the good opossum that I am but he wanted to talk about us and our relationship and what the fuck has been going on all at 5:30am of course. I tell him to go to bed and that we'll speak in the morning, but he gets intense and I mumble something or other to his stupid fucking questions and he gets incensed, puts his clothes on and walks right out the door, which I lock angrily right after him, good riddance! He calls me a couple of times and it gets ugly. I don't go back to sleep til 7am. I'm done with this buffoon and his bipolarity and insanity. He's driving me insane and the drama is not worth it. The entertaining factor is gone and its getting messy and its time to bail the fuck out. Bail bail bail!

November 17, 2010

Hey so, ya wanna get high and watch a movie with me? Why the fuck does it seem like I am dating my cat. Fuck this shit. Let's cuddle.
A sudden sense of desperation set in. "I don't know what to do," she thought. Her mind raced over the things she should be doing, would be doing had she not taken that hit from the pipe sitting conveniently on her left hand side.
The thing about the guy I am dating is the following: he never lets past issues be. He brings it back up in a joking manner, but the truth is I KNOW he isn't kidding. I know he still thinks about it obsessively. Why even bring it up at all if it is a subject that is not even relevant anymore? I'm searching for the EJECT button in a half assed manner, curious as to how far this train wreck of a relationship will go. It is my own little socio-emotional experiment.

November 16, 2010

Just found a pipe that I thought I had lost. It was in my glove compartment complete with some old weed stuffed into the hole. I'm smoking it right now hoping that I get high and not sick from it. You know you're a stoner when: you find yourself smoking anything that resembles weed, you smoke weed that you have "found" even if it is old/comes from unknown sources.

What the fuck is this shit that I am smoking? Waste not want not, so smoke it up even if it is kind of funky.

I just rolled what may very well my first rollie. I know, please, the appluase is too much, I am very humbled, thank you.

This video is a brief summary of my current so called relationship. This is the same guy that has a newly pasted picture of his ex girlfriend on his wall. I haven't brought the subject up because really, who gives? Nobody obvs. I just can't summon the ire and rage and care to broach the subject. I am not very excited about him either. Spent 5 days without seeing him, hanging out with my friends, getting stoned 24/7. I only thought of him once in awhile and only in passing, much like an annoying bee in your general area. Still, I have to wonder why I am with him, if only for the company because not even the sex is a good enough reason to remain (when in fact, it should be the first reason to leave him if I had my head set on straight).

November 12, 2010

so how long did that last?

A record, probably. Water and oil lasting as long as it did. Didn't want to tell you I (they) told you so, but I (they) told you so. Of course I was completely aware of what I was getting into, but still it stings. I feel like he was a bit like my little emotional science experiment; one more case that draws me ever closer to knowing exactly what I like in men. And what is it that I like in men, if I dare ask myself this.

The guy I re-met last weekend is a lovely specimen of the kind I like: a lovely British accent, dark brown hair, deep forest green eyes, tall, a little on the thick, manly side with what appeared to be a big schlong. Did I mention that he's a captain of an 80 foot sail boat? Total swoon inducing.

November 5, 2010

tyrant destroyer

He tells me I'm complicated, full of mysteries and surprises. I don't deny it; our personalities clash at times, our communication is not understood, misunderstandings occur. I get flustered and push the words out of my mouth much like Sisyphus pushing boulders up a mountain. I forget how to empathize, how to say a tender word, a soft caress... All the good things he does, has done, will do, wants to do fade and are replaced by hurt, anger, resentment, mistrust. I want to trust him, I want to trust him, I want to trust him, but he must gain my trust.

I went out last night with a guy friend who is in a similar situation as me (trust issues with the person they are dating, both of us have been single for awhile, etc) and we had our own little head shrink session. In the end my opinion was that love is worth the eventual heartbreak, because it makes you feel alive. You haven't really lived until you've gotten your heart broken, smashed to little bits, stomped and spat on then set on fire, blazing into black ashes.

We live our days afraid of feeling, afraid of experiencing, afraid of getting hurt or injured, afraid of falling in love. I don't think you decide to fall in love, but you do need to open your heart to the possibility in order to experience it. Falling in love is not a decision. You fall into it; sometimes you know it is happening as it occurs, while other times its a blindsided knock to the head, leaving you shocked at the sheer brutal force of it.