By the By

Don't tell me to take a cab to a boy's house by telling me you will drive me to work in the morning if you don't intend to answer your phone in the morning.

Around and Through

So I have gotten really good at not being with Boy 1. I proved it to myself (and fortunately enough, to him) last night when he came by to tell me the interesting news...Well, he said he had some news I would love. It was that Rebecca texted him. Wow. I'm shocked. Thanks, Firsty, for that bit of stunning news. (Please read with excessive sarcasm, thanks) I didn't actually say that, I just feigned a little middling interest and then went back to talking to Boy 2 at the bar.

That's right, I'm really bad at not being with Boy 2. I got spent the night at his last night, which was a bad idea, as I spent all my cigarette and food money on a cab back into downtown. And I can still taste and smell man. Even though we didn't have sex. Apparently, getting under someone to get over someone else puts you in a position like this.

(Except that I actually slept with Boy 2 long before I even met Boy 1 and I didn't intend to use Boy 2 to get over Boy 1, he just helped a lot, not by taking my mind off it as much as just giving me a little bit of perspective. The hardest thing about just sleeping with a guy like Two is that he's such an amazing person, it's hard to retain that distance, although it is inescapably necessary. Damn.)

Over(t)ly So

I think way too much for my own good. And I'm gonna hurt myself.

Here's what I know, Boy 1 (of "old-woman-loving fame) is calling up to ask me out for a drink and Boy 2 (of the "just-found-out-he's-a-daddy" club) is still calling me beautiful.

But I don't think it'd be smart for me to be with either right now.

Plus, Boy 2 plays pool and has been trying to get me to play, and he's a bit of a know it all, so I'd get real pissy real fast, but I think I just might find a lonely, secluded pool table to play with and reteach myself how not to lay too much english.

Cupdate

There has been very little mention of the whole dating thing with Boy, except that he said he was "trying to love me". I had told him I was broken, and he responded by being exceptionally wonderful. At which point I, of course, got prickly and unfair when he complimented me. and he said, "I am just trying to love you." But it was similar to last time in that he sorta just said it as he was walking out of the room and I was drifting off into tear-streaked sleep. (Well, the last incident was laughter, this one was tears. Sue me.) So I got up and asked, "What did you just say?!" It was kinda surreal. I feel like I'm in a movie. I told him I did love him. He said he loved me, too. And then added, "more than you know."

So the question is: Is it foolish for a broken girl to hook up with broken-for-now Boy? Even if he's broken for a reason and for awhile, as opposed to my being broken forever and just because I'm me? Can a sometime-broken guy break me further, or would I be in danger of pushing him closer to broken-for-good?

On a lighter note, should I start playing pool again?

Hindi

Apparently I'm going to start blogging in Hindi now.

Not really. I just think it's funny, 'cause of the fact that my white, middle-American filter said, "Why the fuck would anyone want to blog in Hindi? Are there that many Hindi bloggers out there? I mean really?" I'm such a wasp...

Anyway. Here's the fast and quick version, since I'm sick of talking about it.

Rebecca is the mother of a good friend of mine from high school. (And by good friend, I mean I wouldn't run the other way if I saw her walking towrd me on the street. Unless she was with her mom, but I'll explain that in a sec.) She's a hairdresser, so when she offered to give me a flapper bob for New Year's Eve, I was thrilled. And she raved about some boy, some 24 year old boy that she was sleeping with. When I went in for my appointment, she told me about how he stole her lingerie and a miniskirt and was an idiot and she had made out with a theatre designer much closer to her age and was very hungover (reassuring when you're getting your hair done, let me tell you).

Anyway, not 3 days later, I was hanging out in the bar and started a friendly conversation with Jake, the man sitting next to me, very cute, kinda funny, drinking a beer and about to go to the same concert I was going to go to. We went together and started hanging out every dayand sleeping together and my friends started calling him my boyfriend. Here's the weird thing. He is the twenty-four year old lover who stole the clothes. Rebecca said (to Jakein text form) "the cow says moo. do you like that? you make me sick" and later, my personal favorite, "how's the grand canyon?" She's 48 and she's less mature than my 16 year old sister. I pitied her more than anything else.

But then she came up to me one night wasted at the bar saying I needed to dump Jake, he was an asshole and the other night when he told me he was at home, he was really fucking her (and I quote, "no, Sam, really fucking me all night long." Classy). Anyway. I told her it was no biggie. I didn't care who Jake fucked, I knew he was an asshole, which is why I always referred to him as my lover and not my boyfriend. Although before Papa's best friend died, I was starting to get caught up in it.

And the woman has ignored me ever since, except for a drunken apology and a slur on Jake, who I still consider my friend, although I can't have sex with him any more, since it makes him act all weird and shit, which is a whole other story.

Anyway, well before I met Jake I had what I thought at the time was a one night stand with a guy I saw at the bar all the time. We became sorta friends in passing, and the one night stand has turned into a bonafide on-again-off-again stand of indeterminite length, which may have taken a bit of a hop into the dating realm last night, when he told me "maybe we should just date each other." Actually it went like this:

Me: (inane conversation, drunken giggling)

Him: (more inane conversation, funny laughter)

M: (laughing at his funny laughter)

H: Maybe we should just date each other.

M: (more inane conversation)

H: (mass inanity, how many times can we use that word?)

M: What do you mean "maybe we should just date each other"?(!)

H: We shouldn't talk about this like this tonight when we're drunk.

Exeunt, with flourish

The End. As in WoW! I don't know how I feel about it. I can't stop thinking about it. I'm scared and I hope it doesn't come up again. But I know if he doesn't bring it up, I'll have to. Becase I'm a talker througher and rational to a fault and I know that I need to weigh the options now, and if saying no to dating means never being with him again, I have to say yes...Does that mean I want to date him, or just that I don't want the good thing to end? Is that the same thing?

alpha

I hate the new Blogger. That said, my website will probably not be around much longer. I'm sure they don't take kindly to people saying that. I'm just trusting Google not to be evil and wipe my blog off the face of the internet. Like Accutane wiped the pimples off the face of my sister. I'm in quite a mood today and confused about the whole friends and lovers business.

Just a quick update, Jake had sex with the old woman again and it was actually okay, because if you remember correctly I had demoted us back to friends and lovers, but he's all depressed and shit. We still have sex on occasion. Anyway, I'm trying really hard not to make it more or less than what it is, but it's hard when he asks how to get to my mom's house and gives me a look that says, "I wanna fuck you on her laminate floor."

Winter

It hasn't been autumn for a long time and I'm sick of the autumn look, so I think I'm gonna make a wintry look, or maybe a springy look as wishful thinking.

What do you think?

Bad Day(s)

I'm not a good girlfriend, so I'm relinquishing the title. I am just going to try and be a good friend for a while. I never really have been before, and maybe that's the key to being a good girlfriend, really. I've really been hating this the past few days...

Anyway, the news is that I haven't had sex with Jake for almost a week. In fact, I haven't even made out with Jake for almost a week. And the past few days I've been dying for it. And the worst thing is that I could have had it. I ran into two guys last night who I know wanted to have sex with me, and I was approached by three other men to start converstaions. I was like little miss popularity.

And I thought, "I don't want to be alone tonight."

And I saw, "I don't have to be alone tonight."

And I realized, "I don't just not want to be alone; I don't just want to be with someone. I want to be with someone specific."

And then I felt more alone than before.

And then I sat and talked with Ryan about sext messaging and talked to Lawrence about the scifi movie he wants to make, and really, all those feelings passed.

The point is, it's hard not to be a whore.

Part Deux

(Thanks, K-La)

1. YOUR SPY NAME: [middle name and current street name]

Joe Fort


2. YOUR MOVIE STAR NAME: [grandfather/grandmother on your father's side, your favorite candy]

Anna Heath


3. YOUR RAP NAME: [first initial of first name, first three or four letters of your last name]

S Bail


4. YOUR GAMER TAG: [a favorite color, a favorite animal]

Red Kitten


5. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: [middle name, city where you were born]

Joe Nampa


6. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: [first 3 letters of your last name, last 3 letters of mother's maiden name, first 3 letters of your pet's name]

Baioonbon


7. JEDI NAME: [middle name spelled backward, your mom's maiden name spelled backward]

Eoj Noopsrehtiw

8. PORN STAR NAME: [first pet's name, the street you grew up on]

Odie Bloom


9. SUPERHERO NAME: ["The", your favorite color, the automobile your dad drives]

The Red Peterbilt (or The Red 1500 or The Red Malibu...They all just sound like cars)

10. YOUR ACTION HERO NAME: [first name of the main character in the last film you watched, last food you ate]

Clementine Bagel

Survey

I feel like doing one. I'll have to look for one. More later

Hospital

I found out this morning I actually have a boyfriend, now. An official title. I've never had a boyfriend before. He told me he loves me, that I make him happy, that I'm pretty, that he's lucky to have me in his life. And this afternoon he found out that his grandfather is refusing traetment at the hospital in favor of home hospice. So the day I got a boyfriend is the day his papa (which warms my heart coming out of his mouth, because papas are a very special thing. I should know. I lost mine in 2005) has decided to go home and die comfortably.

The point is, I love the idea of having a boyfriend. I love being in love with this guy. And I am. I fell for him pretty hard, pretty fast. I love the feeling of importance. I love that he notices little things about me that I wasn't really aware of before. I hated leaving him to go to work today. I hated seeing him hurt. I hated knowing how he felt and not knowing for sure at the same time. And all of a sudden I think I may actually understand the difference between a fuck buddy and a boyfriend. And that's it. The only difference is that wanting to make them as happy as they make you. Maybe this is that mother-children love thing I don't get either. That "i-feel-pain-when-you-feel-pain" feeling. Weird. More about this later.

I can't go, I'm a horrible friend.

Actually I'm a horrible employee, and I will lose my job if I leave early today. Son of a bitch. I'll be out in early March. I promise.

Portland

Ah, I'm torn. (And I'm not apologizing for not having posted for nearly a month; deal with it. I've been really busy, and now I'm posting at work to waste time, further solidifying my fear that I will not pass my final exam and I will be looking for a new job next month)

In recent news I received an eviction notice in the mail, but I'm ignoring it, because my landlord was too stupid to send it with a receipt, and I have to move out within three days of receiving it, and I never did, to her knowledge, so ha. I'm glad i just recorded that in print, because now she knows i got it, if she ever found my weblog, which she won't. Anyway. I've sent in my 30-day notice with a veiled threat to report her to the housing authority for the mold problem, the leaky ceiling, the fact that she sent people in to knock holes in my walls and hasn't had them fixed for over a year now, and for my apartment always smelling like pot and I can't have any. Fucking jobs. The people above and below me smoke out all the time and since I have holes between my bedroom and both stoner apartments, I have to deal with that shit all the time and that really messes with your ability to abstain, right? I guess that last one is probably not such a good argument to take to the authorities, but still.

So I'm slowly packing up all my shit and trying to move into the apartment across the street, since I hate moving if I have to use a vehicle. It blows.

Also, hey, I've been dating a guy for almost a month now, which is weird. I still don't refer to him as my boyfriend, but he kind of is, I guess. Or at least my friends say he is. I never really understood the difference between a monogamous fuck friend and a boyfriend, so I'm not necessarily a good one to ask. I don't introduce him to people as my boyfriend, and he doesn't call me his girlfriend, so that may be an indicator.

Just in case you're wondering, I'm not going to say anything about maybe going to Portland this weekend, because nothing's set in stone. I kinda have to figure out this eviction thing first. Shit. But I may be in Portland on Saturday afternoon. I certainly hope so. I need money, though. Shit. Grrrr. (Insert a whole string of expletives here. I'm sure you can imagine.) I hate rent. Not so much the musical and only a little bit the movie, but a whole lot the actual paying of a landlord for the ability to have a leaky roof over my head.

Yes, Adam, there is a Santa Claus...I mean, I do understand. I miss both parts of you. And K-La, I miss you like bleeding from my eyes. (Not I miss you like I miss bleeding from my eyes, which is not at all. I mean missing you feels like bleeding from my eyes. I need to know when you'll be back on this side of the country, 'cause I get two weeks vaykayshun. And I need to see you. Hopefully I'll see Adam on Saturday. Adam, what are you doing on Saturday?)

PS

Jason Mulgrew is probably a walking STD conglomerate, (what with all the ass he gets, apparently in a one-night-only capacity, he's probably a medical miracle) but I'd still probably have sex with him after four drinks, if it weren't the first night I ever met him, because I don't do that anymore. Mr. Mulgrew is decidedly not reading this, but if he were, I would still leave this post up, because I'm too lazy to take it down and because I want him to know beyond the shadow of a doubt that if we ever wound up on the same side of the continent for more than a week together, I'd hunt him down, get some kiltlifter in him and have my way with him. But I'd definitely make him wear a condom. Not because I'm just safe like that...I mean, I am just safe like that, but even if I weren't, that boy probably has (what would Gareth say?) knob rot (ha) like you wouldn't believe.

I also love Gareth, but I wouldn't have sex with him or the actor who plays him. Because 1)Mackenzie Crook is married and 2)I mean, come on...Gareth!?

The date

I need a cigarette. Hold on. I gotta try and get 'em all in before next week...

...Insert seven minute lapse...

The date was lame, not much more I can say. I met this guy on a Wednesday, we hung out for a few hours. The he called me back on Thursday.

...A bit of a side note here...guys never do this. If you are a guy and you're reading this, (which is highly unlikely, unless you're Adam) you ought to know that the number one way to impress someone you want to date, or even just fuck, is to call them the very next day. I'm not saying it's the only thing you have to do; there's a lot involved in conveying interest. But for the record, calling the next day avoids a lot of that nonsense. It says, "I'm still thinking about you," and there isn't much more appealing to someone who wants to be pursued.

I don't know about all people, but I can say that for me, what holds me back from dating is my deep-seated fear that he's really not interested. So I'll just put it out there that a next-day call-back makes me think he's not just bored. I'm not just someone to fill his time and his bed; he likes me. Even if it's not true, the message is clear. I know a guy who gets more ass than anyone I know, and his first move is always the next-day call-back. I've even heard him say, "I really don't have anything to talk about; I just really wanted to talk to you." Isn't that sweet? Doesn't it melt your heart and your barriers? That's the point. Get it?

(Hi, Adam. I don't mean to shortchage you, but you probably already know this, seeing as how you're very good at interpersonal relations, and I really can't imagine you not having figured this out.)

So anyway, this guy calls back the next day and asks if I want to go out on Sunday. I said yes and we set up to meet at The Neurolux at 8pm. We did and it was fine, except it was just like hanging out with a friend. No subtle flirtation, no buying of drinks, no compliments. And then he proceeds to explain this fuked up situation with this girl at work and how he really just wants to be friends right now. I am okay with this. (One thing you'll all already know about me is that when I'm not going crazy, I'm pretty fucking easygoing).

Anyway, we just talked for a couple hours, set a tentative friends-only date to watch Spinal Tap, as it's prerequisite to a friendship with me anymore, and he went home early. I went and sat with other friends of mine, who had been waving at me all night and met 3 or 4 other guys, one of whom was very promising, but I'm not getting my hopes up.

Anyway, the night wasn't a waste, just a weird experience. And one that I likely won't have again, as I am predicting the next guy who asks me out on a date will actually want to date me. This date tonight doesn't count, because he asked me before I made this prediction, and I'm pretty sure it'll end exactly the same way. Friends-only. Story of my fucking life.

-

Happy holidays to all of you, or if your religion doesn't have a holiday in this part of the year, well, I'm pretty sure you're not reading, because only two people are, and they both celebrate Christmas. Sorry, Hindu ghost reader.

Meanwhile...

I don't know when I'll be able to sit down and write again, but I thought I'd let you all know I have a date tomorrow. A real date. I've never really had one of those before where me and a guy who likes me go out in public together. Isn't that exciting?

I'm Sorry

Hello. I feel bad about not updating in so long. Like Steve at The Sneeze, except slightly less annoying because I don't think there are hundreds of people who check my weblog every day to read something hilarious. Good thing, too. 'Cause I got nothin'.

I'm sitting at my mom's house and there's a guy over here who wants to date my mom. His name is Jeff and he's a doofus. That's pretty much the only word that fits. He thinks glue sticks were invented sometime this year. He doesn't understand "why the blacks always wear those big necklaces". He is laughing at a nature show about white water rapids in Idaho. Hello? We live in Idaho. What's more, this guy actually owns and drives a jet boat. Why is he watching...Oh, nevermind. It's not worth being condescending to someone who doesn't understand that you should type and spell check your cover letters when you apply for a job. It's also not worth being condescending to someone when they can't hear you. And he will basically never in a million years read this, so fuck it.

Anyway, yes, I am quite alive and very well. Just got a job with a major telecom company, about which I can say nothing, due to the fact that I'd then have to kill you and I don't really know how to kill someone. And I'm too lazy to look it up and too cheap to hire a hit man. It'd be a huge fucking mess.

I also bought some shit and had a few crushes on a few different guys. Same old stuff.

Also, the whole Spider thing happened, but I'm still not gonna talk about that yet. I'm still embarrassed and terrified about it.

Okay, I swear I am not trying to avoid talking about my future family, but my whole real family is sitting right behind me so I can't swear or smoke or talk about anything that indicates I'm not a virgin. But speaking of that, remind me to tell you about Spider and the dagger, too.

You Really Can't Go Home

I'm upset with Bon Jovi for being so fucking stupid as to misinterpret one of the most accurate statements of all time. You can't go home.

Come on, man. It doesn't mean that you can't go back to your house or your family. It says that you can't go home, Jon. Think about it. Think about the way that after you made Slippery When Wet, the kids from your neighborhood all looked at you differently when you "went home". Do you still live in that industrial neighborhood where you grew up, dude? Do you even really want to go home? I mean, I know you're all "Jersey" and shit, but I promise you, Richie doesn't wanna go back where he came from. That would mean forfeiting the right to fuck the likes of Heather Locklear and Denise Richards.

You sound like a retard more and more every time I hear you sing this song, so let me point out exactly what this means...

Every day that I age, work, live, I get farther away from "home" as I came to know it as a child. I still have my mother's phone number at my childhood house listed as "home" in my cell phone, even though my house hasn't been hers for nearly three years. I think that home will always be this house, this family, my mother and sister. I may get married and have kids someday (more about this later, actually), but even then, part of me will be imagining home as the place where I was a child.

When I was just out of college, I really did try to go back, but I was a drinker and a member of the workforce. I paid bills now. In this place, which will always be home, I am not who I was, so it isn't what it was...Does that make sense? Think about it. You may go back to your home, but once you leave, you are visiting a place so entangled with memories, it's a ghost home. Once you leave, home becomes something you can't go back to, but something you strive to create for the rest of your life.

Basically, Jon, you need to understand that...well, the song blows and it's annoying as shit. Take it off the radio, please.

Three Reasons my New Job Rocks

A little background:

Starting when I dropped out of college I worked at an inboundcal center for two years, only to be fired on thanksgiving because they accused me of drinking on the clock, which I did not do. It was fine to leave because I hated the job and was intending to quit in January. The shitty thing was that I was fired and have to disclose that information at every new job I apply for. Since it's my only real experience, I have a hard time glossing it over.

After that, i worked as a telemarketer. Enough said, I believe.

I have been working at a temp agency since May, and I have been dismissed from both of my last two assigments. The first for my imperfect driving record, the second for throwing a phone book at a patient. I don't feel like explaining the injustice here, but I will because the guy hadn't taken his Xanax for two weeks and seemed to mistake my taking out a phonebook to look up a number as my throwing it at him.

I get accused of all kinds of shit, and apparently I look like the kind of person who throws phone books at the mentally disabled while sloshed at work.

I just got a new job in a call center (inbound, thank god) just down the street from my house. There are maybe ten reps here, only two team leaders. The company sells hundreds of thousands of downloadable products eery day and we ten handle all the customer support. That said, let me say what I adore this place and I'll work here 'til I retire or move away, if I am so lucky.

1. The company subsdizes the vending machines. What I mean by that is, the powers that be think 75 cents is a ridiculous price to pay for a can of soda, so they pay extra to the vending machine company to have the price for the employees lowered to only 50 cents. The company buys a third of my customary lunch soda for me. Beautiful.

2. Tomorrow we are turning off the phones in the busiest part of the day to have a judged costume contest with all of the phone reps, meaning no one will have to watch the phones or miss out on the fun. There are prizes and games, and we all get paid to sit around and drink coffee and vote for the greatest halloween costume for an hour, while the customers wait. Why? Because it builds morale.

3. Wednesday is the big BSU game. This time, we get off an hour and a half early (instead of taking morning time) and get paid to hang out and tailgate for BSU. And it's real tailgatingwith a grill and free beer and also prizes for most spirit. Basically, if I dress up, I get something rad, just for wearing blue tomorrow. And I get something rad anyway, which is being paid to drink free beer out in front of the company where I work with great people who are currently grilling me a hot dog. Hell Yeah.

Of course I could list a million reasons why this company is great, mostly that I like the work and it likes me and the people I work with are not stuck up prigs or mental patients. But these are favorite three things of today. I'm looking forward to the rest of the week. And here's hoping I'll still be hung over when I pick up that first during work beer on Wednesday. That'd more than make my Halloween.

If you'll excuse me, I have to go get paid to smokea cigarette for tewenty minutes and drink my Mountain Dew, purchased at 33% off.