Here's the thing: I am fucking imperfect. I martyr myself over superficial issues and I am always projecting myself. I don't know who the real me is anymore. Am I a fictitious creation propagated amongst individuals I call 'friends'? I am losing the thread on what makes me anymore. I am changing faster than I can keep up with. I feel like I am in a whirlwind speeding through and suddenly time is going faster and things are happening faster than I can catalog them. I'm processing them slowly when they need to be consumed and digested immediately like fast food, fast, changeable emotions.

I am staid, and slow processing. Strong footed and stubborn like a fucking Ent.

Let's get Cheesy

I fell in love. Simply put, I fell into the rabbit hole head first, no hesitations. In fact, it happened so suddenly there was no time to ponder implications, lapses of judgement, the influence of overcharged passions. I am still baffled and processing the entire thing. I fell in love and it happened so rapidly. It was like I was waiting for this person to connect with me. This person who is now so natural and so needed in my life. How quickly he became a part of me.

The Boys Edition

Ummm, so I saw that one of Milan's school friends left him a message on his wall saying something like, "are you coming or what?" and then I see that he left a comment on my wall asking what date a certain band was playing. And then I got a message from him all, "hey darling, I'm coming to ****** to look for JOBS (capital letters). I'll be there soon, so we can go to that concert.". Checked his profile and it says he's in a relationship, so this will be just a friend thing, right?! I had such a crush on him and was crushed in return when he left. :/ I think I blathered on and on about him for a good month after. Anyways, the point is I need dick quick because I might be losing my mind a bit (NEW SONG called NEED DICK QUICK! Cuddling not optional).

Did I tell you that the Latin Tolstoy dude that jerked himself off via Skype is coming to visit and has promised to bend me over and give me an earthshaking what-what in retaliation for not showing him the whole caboodle via Skype. We seem to have a sense of sexual freedom when we chat. Naughty! His penis was big and purple even though he is white. He joked around and said that he was white with a black dick. I said I was white with a black ass, so he said we were meant to fuck. Just fuck, let that be clear. No sweet words, no nothing, pleasure and release, that is it and it is very clear.

I have a crush on Burrito, did you know this is still going on? It's a school girl crush, I think. Heart palpitations and head rushings and giddy silliness. It's kind of funny. There is something slightly off humor in him and I find it interesting. He's a gentleman! What a friggin' nice dude. Even if I don't bang him I'm still glad we get to hang out and stuff because he is such an all around good guy. Awwwwwww. Also, I really wonder what his penis is like. I bet he's hung. There might have been a "moment" at the bbq, but it also could've all been indigestion.

I've still been hanging out with the Lead Guitarrist; did you throw your panties at the screen when you read Lead Guitarist? Women should be throwing themselves at him. Maybe in Japan they would. An almost per word repeat of the funny convo I had with him. Women in here apparently do not care if he is in a band and do not throw themselves at him. Maybe if he weren't so self effacing and shy. Such a shy guy! Shy Guy, let's capitalize. Has a lot going for him but doesn't have the confidence to strut his stuff. Has had multiple chances to kiss me or make a move and hasn't though I know for sure that he has a thing for me.

I sing him this song.

call me call me call me call me, forget about it

I met a guy. I like this guy. He has not called me, though he has my number, though we had a great time, though it was unexpected, though it was fun and exciting and invigorating... though, though, though. He's older than me, is divorced, is a talented musician (yes, really, again?), seems like a nice guy without being a pushover. He kept mentioning how much fun he was having and how cute I was and all of these other platitudes that at the time seemed sincere, but now I have my doubts and I wonder if it was all in my head.

I'm a schmuck. I shouldn't be over thinking this, but I am, I am hoping and pining and sitting by the phone figuratively speaking. I am crossing my fingers, and crossing my heart and making a wish on a falling star and I am trying too damn hard. The thing is, my past dating traumas has been a serious lack of spark, and if there is no spark there cannot be love. There can be sex, plenty of it, but if the spark is missing there will be no romantic progress. And I just want to progress with somebody. I'm as lonely as I've ever been in a long time and I long, I fall in love easily, and any connection has my tail wagging and my heart thumping. I want to fall in love, but the more I WANT the less I get. It's like the universe is playing tricks on me. The more prepared and ready I feel, the less I get what I want.

Waaaa waaaa waaaaa, gonna go stuff my face with home made hot chocolate, howzaboutit?

I have been proposed to multiple times. Most of the time in jest, or maybe I just took it that way. I make a mockery of that type of commitment but secretly crave it. I love the idea of a white picket fence, the big family, tons of kids, a supportive, loving, funny husband. Lots of family and friends, community, it all appeals to me.

Just burnt a tick with a lighter. He was found creeping on my bed and this Land of Smokey will not allow for creatures that suck blood and possibly carry diseases. Tick Fever is no laughing matter.

Latest proposal comes from The Adventurer, a little romance I had about two years ago. Met him at one of my former places of employment. Such a bad ass and at the same time intelligent and street smart and kind. We had a very chaste three week romance until we parted ways. Things never got beyond PG 13, and yet we still chat and communicate to this day. He's always held me in high esteem, though I believe its just because he met me in a very chaste moment of my life, thus this clouds his opinion (or that's my very own convoluted stream of thought and paranoia). We've always had these very intense chats on FB, where we joke around about starting a commune on a farm, far off in some mountainous region, where we grow our own food and school our kids... religious LSD trippin' hippie shit, what else?

When he was here we took off to some far off islands where we relaxed together with only our voices to keep each other company. On the way back he spotted a huge snake crossing the road, which he caught with his bare hands; the picture I took shows the snake draped on his shoulders, the snake's head securely held between his left index and thumb. Fearless would be a good word to describe him. Also reckless in a very calculated way. A real man in the sense that he hunts and he can look inside your hood and diagnose what is wrong with your car, fix shit with his God given hands, while speaking to you on an intellectual, rational level.

Lanky, with a schnoz that would make a yenta or two proud, multi colored eyes, shockingly straight hair that shoots up at odd angles. A crooked smile and a gentlemanly way. I always felt like his type of man doesn't really exist anymore. A Man's Man.

I'm going through a dry spell right now, can you tell?

Chicken and Cheese

The French dude whom I had a little romantic sexual Internet rendezvous with a couple of months ago is here for ten days. I met him IRL this afternoon, today. He's a lot more fit than I thought and I was a lot more bloated than he thought. Was not feeling sexy or good looking at all. He's single, unattached, does not live here, is good looking and successful, and I've already seen his dick, he's perfect candidate for a week long rendezvous, 'cept for the fact that I'm bleeding to death, heavy cramps and all. Oh life, you never cease to amaze me with your perfect abilities for cockblocking.

Also for the fact that I feel as though I am not ready to be with someone intimately. This dawned on me only a week or so ago, and I have been pondering since I read about the concept in an autobiography that I am currently reading. Although at the same time I crave physical contact with someone. I crave satisfaction and reactions and contact and connections.

On the other hand, I might be sort of infatuated with a friend of mine. He's my buddy and yet I've been having indecent thoughts of him while gazing at his lovely, deep warm eyes and sculpted biceps. We had the perfect moment set up last night and yet neither one of us acted on it. I feel as though each of us is waiting for the OK, Come Hither command from the other one, but so far no one makes a move. Maybe its all in my head and I'm getting my cables crossed. Either way its nice spending time with him and all of his weirdness (because he is an oddball, although I feel as if lately all I date are Oddballs).

I Meart You

Had a mini meart attack... typo, but it's staying! No, not really; my meart did not implode or stop beating. It's still beating apathetically because it is cold and alone and lonely and just wants a good round of healthy sex, perhaps a spanking.

So, 2010 came and went pretty quickly, eh? I felt like I lived three different lives at one point; oh wait, I really fucking did. I felt like I was living a real life segment of a series like Friends or Seinfeld or Two guys, a Girl and a Pizza Place. Different jobs after a couple of months, different guys all the time, new friends, old friends, odd situations, World issues, mid to late 20's problems, parental issues, etc. I learned some important shit and was able to actually remember it to actually recall it later, at a time like this auspicious moment on my very public blog (not).

I believe I did a lot of maturing in 2010, did a lot of growing up and putting on my big girl panties (they are large, beige, seamless, cover all of my rather large bum and are up to the navel). I made a lot of good decisions that have made me very happy and relieved. I do notice that I am not as sweet and naive as I used to be, that I have lost a certain softness I used to carry in my face; it has been replaced by a hardness of the features, a shrewd eyed stare with a calculated smile.

Time doesn't pass by without leaving some sign of his passing.

I finally, cut things off with the Creative Hustler (which is probably the worst nickname I have ever given anybody, ever). He's too fucking intense and intense and intense and passionate and irrational and imbalanced. The freak in me fucking loves that but the rational, pragmatic me (who is, to be honest, a total wet towel) knows that I've been in these sorts of relationships and they're always fucked and intense and Way Too Much Trouble. He almost brainwashed me into having goodbye sex. Sneaky conniver! I kinda really wanted to, but I just know that it would cost me at least another 2-3 months of uh, passion and I am just ready to be done with it.

I have to meet him next week because we have some transactions we need to get done. I just want to give him his shit and get my shit and EJECT right out of that scenario. But he's going to want to have a beer and talk. Maybe not. Maybe his manhood won't allow him to hang with the woman who just dumped his ass to the curb. Oh bla bla bla, the poor, little, easily hurt MALE EGO. What a pile of barely held together manhood, its a miracle they don't strut around naked, cocks erect, thumping at their chests.

I'm obviously dealing with some shit, can you tell? So, I'm reading the silliest, cheesiest but probably very true, book titled Single, and it is very true that I hide it when people come over because it is a bit embarrassing. Hi, I'm SINGLE but I'm coping, kinda. Stupid, of course because I have always been a strong person and I don't like having to read self help books because I feel I am perfect and don't need no stinking help. But this I am reading, -and gagging through. A couple of the suggestions were laughable, but I'd just skip through the parts I felt were too corny. It's like the bad medicine you have to take or some other terrible analogy (you can't have your cake and eat it too, what the fuck is that all about? Who buys a cake they can't it? Silly!).