tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51100272271228846892024-03-14T01:34:58.147-07:00Change of PaceChange can be a good thing every now and then.Wranglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548835719150744884noreply@blogger.comBlogger116125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5110027227122884689.post-51961947794140091332014-04-24T12:25:00.001-07:002014-04-24T12:25:38.344-07:00Catching up, Catching fireIts been so long. Life went on with out my documentation of it. Without me needing to put my feelings out on paper. Able to express most everything I needed to. Everything else was just a passing fancy. Mostly.<br />
<br />
I can't believe its been three years since I've posted. Lets see if I can't catch up.<br />
<br />
I'm back with M. Its better. Still a battle sometimes, but show me a relationship that isn't, at least once in a while, a battle. Communication is better. Sex is more prevalent. I get my space.<br />
<br />
I do less hiding. I do more living.<br />
<br />
We bought a bed. A big bed.<br />
<br />
It feels a lot like commitment without the whole ring and married thing.<br />
<br />
The married thing. I'm not sure about all that. Somedays, I wish it would just happen. That he would ask, and I'd say 'yes' and we'd live happily ever after...<br />
<br />
But then I think, really think, I don't know that I can do that. I don't know - even now - that this is right. I do know that its easy. And comfortable. And lovely.<br />
<br />
But not really, a lot of spice. I like spice. Not on my food but in my life. But with spice, comes drama.<br />
<br />
And I hate drama.<br />
<br />
Like really...<br />
<br />
HATE drama.<br />
<br />
Thus my conundrum.<br />
<br />
Without spice, comfortable sounds like boring. Easy sounds lazy. Lovely sounds more like an insult. Love becomes a four letter word.<br />
<br />
Gah. When did I get so jaded? Hahaha<br />
<br />Wranglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548835719150744884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5110027227122884689.post-52356574851985859862011-07-18T14:16:00.000-07:002011-07-18T14:25:17.098-07:00Empty houseLiving with roomates is great. Really, its nice to come home to have some one to talk to. Left overs that you didn't have to cook, and someone to watch the pup.<br />But sometimes I wish they would all just go away so I can have the house to myself. For the whole day.<br />Every morning I wake up and peer out the window to see whose cars are still here because sometimes they sleep until five or six in the evening. It's weird. And so the only way I know if they're gone is if their trucks are gone. I beginning to think one never works more than once or twice a week for like two hours at a time. One works all the time managing to have one day off during the week - which also happens to be my only day off, of course. The last one is just recently unemployed but visits enough friends and stuff to be gone at least some of the time unlike the first who is always doing some form of home improvement.<br />And there always seems to be drama, somehow. Sigh... <br />So I tend to just hide in my room a lot of the time, emerging usually only when people are asleep or gone. I feel exceptionally like a agoraphobe.Wranglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548835719150744884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5110027227122884689.post-35158988112424038512011-07-04T11:02:00.000-07:002011-07-04T11:14:57.138-07:00Space out<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL5Rov4pKugjwZQ7CsnbYBM12ef7u5Rctr8g0xC4Vzd96lIr4rQEU2YUVTeJgmHJbC3dhteEIiwl9a3N1LkQNlt357YGVF3wiGubwiQeYJJwkk4pCzyxhR6i4-YRj0HICtHUzs60vAa60/s1600/IMG020.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL5Rov4pKugjwZQ7CsnbYBM12ef7u5Rctr8g0xC4Vzd96lIr4rQEU2YUVTeJgmHJbC3dhteEIiwl9a3N1LkQNlt357YGVF3wiGubwiQeYJJwkk4pCzyxhR6i4-YRj0HICtHUzs60vAa60/s320/IMG020.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625562198022048194" border="0" /></a><br />So much for my writing at least once a month resolution. I missed a month. Oh well, I've been super busy.<br />I'm finally settled in at my new place. I got a new comforter and sheets to celebrate my new space. It's amazing what having your own space does for your sanity. Even if I've been so busy I really haven't been here more than to sleep and shower.<br />I guess there are worse problems to have. I don't do well with boredom.<br />I feel lighter now. But that might be because I had my first day off yesterday in four weeks. You really appreciate not having anything you HAVE to do for once after a couple of weeks of obligation.<br /><br />I don't know if I'm being fair to everyone in my life right now. But I'm trying to.<br />I'm being chased by like three guys now. I hear the way to do it is to just not get caught. lol<br />I go hang out with M once a week which seems to make him happy. And me. I miss him but I'm still not ready to go back. I'm not sure I ever will.<br />Gentleman from work is super sweet. Apparently he's had his eye on me for a while. I was completely clueless. I thought he came for beers - not to see me. Not sure how to deal with that. But he does brighten my day every time I see him.<br />Dancer is completely self absorbed - or at least it seemed that way when I let him take me out on Friday to the county fair. I met him out dancing. He is amazing to dance with - I kinda just want to keep him around to dance with me. He's a football coach and plays the part with all this talk of winning me a stuffed animal at the fair. (He never even tried, though) Sounds like all talk, to me. Maybe I'll give him another dance.. err.. chance. lolWranglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548835719150744884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5110027227122884689.post-49331968894628628092011-05-25T22:36:00.000-07:002011-05-25T22:38:06.129-07:00Moving out and up?I've finally moved out.<br /><br />Now what?Wranglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548835719150744884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5110027227122884689.post-5353205762228823542011-05-05T13:02:00.000-07:002011-05-05T13:08:25.156-07:00SexyI'm feeling exceptionally sexy today.<div>So much so that I've taken to walking around the house completely nude for the morning hours. I've been sunning myself in the backyard since all the roommates has dissipated to either work or play activities yonder.</div><div><br /></div><div>I just wish there was someone I could flirt with now without complicated consequences.</div>Wranglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548835719150744884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5110027227122884689.post-5933845510285051992011-05-05T10:30:00.001-07:002011-05-05T10:40:34.764-07:00InstinctI've taken my mind out of the equation. I'm running on instinct.<div><br /></div><div>I doubt its a good thing. But it is keeping me sane.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm moving out in week or so. Life is flying by me at a record pace. I'm just trying to keep up with it.</div><div><br /></div><div>So many lessons. So many hours of work. I can barely keep up.</div><div><br /></div><div>Barely succeeding.</div><div>Instinct.</div><div><br /></div>Wranglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548835719150744884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5110027227122884689.post-57770200986981649392011-04-07T10:12:00.000-07:002011-04-07T10:20:50.178-07:00LostI'm still trying to figure out where I am going.<div><br /></div><div>I feel like I just hit my life with a wrecking ball. I'm wondering if this change I made is really what I want. If this is really the direction I wanted to go in.</div><div><br /></div><div>I look around me and I see the rubble of my relationship at my feet and then I close my eyes and pretend its not there; Plowing through my life with my usual step. Only now I feel a bit numb inside.</div><div><br /></div><div>I lost myself somewhere. It was my biggest fear since I was a kid. I've lost myself and I didn't know how to get it back. Though the best way I know how is to have myself to myself and pick up the pieces of my identity along the way.</div><div><br /></div><div>He says he didn't see it coming. But everyone else is being supportive. Everyone else says they've been waiting for this to happen. Everyone else says 'you've got to do what you've got to do'.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't know what I'm doing. I'm flying blind. I wish someone could just help me get my feet back on solid ground.</div>Wranglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548835719150744884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5110027227122884689.post-47921291304035312492011-03-22T13:16:00.000-07:002011-03-22T13:21:29.690-07:00Hurt<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://artrider.deviantart.com/#/d25jb45"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGzGGrLhyphenhyphen_a_8YW7qdlyJhUsrMCoZ_9vKN6eAPq7Nj2O2WpxJ8LppmYr4eCuOhVfELMPIc_0tsYSpgNV3dDbgnTbwcAoIgdwl-2BxG7Sr1G02enaHLKht9V43mFcliSWnhgSBNNB6LNIU/s320/Fallen_from_grace__by_Be_at.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587001847494572242" border="0" /></a><br />I just broke up with the person who works so hard to make me happy.<br /><br />I'm sorry. I just couldn't do it anymore.<br />It hurt too much to not be able to love you as much as you loved me.Wranglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548835719150744884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5110027227122884689.post-5597359473803898962011-03-20T15:19:00.000-07:002011-03-20T16:05:01.487-07:00Incidentally Falling<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://artrider.deviantart.com/favourites/#/d2h8qq3"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh51fRP80ydwrM9cyZJx3aI7nphzhl3xs0EglUeho-9O1IyoqtKY0i5BVPXNTB8YNEZTG57j4_N2hpzmRtUNAzfIZY6Rc4kbiqU-YNfJV8WLPIbSn2JgOMTMsuVaNne9a27Ksv6ToJWDC0/s320/Absolutely_anytime__by_Be_at.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586301386071128066" border="0" /></a><br />I don't know if you just made my life harder or easier.<br /><br /><blockquote>Do you really think I'm just going to jump your bones anytime I want to hang out with you?<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">No. I am going to jump yours because for a super nerd, you're pretty hot with a great rack and I am sure I could do things to you that would make your head spin.</div></blockquote><br /><br />When I start thinking about the whole thing my heart starts to pound and my breath becomes shallow. I feel those little flutters start in my stomach.<br /><br />There is no way I'm falling in love.<br /><div style="text-align: right;">I don't know this guy.<br /></div>He's just someone I work with.<br /><div style="text-align: right;">This is just emotions running away with me.<br /></div>I'm after that rush of being with someone new.<br /><div style="text-align: right;">I can't go diving straight into a relationship after leaving one.<br /></div>This isn't happening.<br /><div style="text-align: right;">I definitely can't date someone I work with.<br /></div>I'm just fantasizing he has a real interest in me.<br /><div style="text-align: right;">I'm just a girl jumping to conclusions...<br /></div><blockquote><br />"It is very often nothing but our own vanity that deceives us. Women fancy admiration means more than it does."<br /><div style="text-align: right;">- Elizabeth Bennet from Pride and Prejudice</div></blockquote><br />I'm just putting emotions in the situation that both don't belong and are probably just a consequence of my imagination.Wranglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548835719150744884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5110027227122884689.post-61861077242427362682011-03-17T10:19:00.000-07:002011-03-17T10:20:17.704-07:00Grr...Men are annoying.<div><br /></div><div>That is all.</div>Wranglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548835719150744884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5110027227122884689.post-68730293488731591872011-03-06T11:57:00.000-08:002011-03-06T12:08:00.968-08:00Seriously?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs36/i/2008/244/2/b/L_amour_dechire_by_j4d3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 550px; height: 402px;" src="http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs36/i/2008/244/2/b/L_amour_dechire_by_j4d3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Does every guy want to see me naked?<br /><br /><br />I'm a little shocked at the guys coming out of the woodwork suggesting I do nude photos. Old friends from college, guys I work with.<br />The balls on some of these guys astonishes me.<br /><br /><br />Holy Crap. I don't know what just happened.Wranglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548835719150744884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5110027227122884689.post-70380722090826806682011-03-03T10:35:00.000-08:002011-03-03T13:39:13.503-08:00Bastard.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2011/027/9/e/20_by_vyatkina-d385fhu.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 540px; height: 303px;" src="http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2011/027/9/e/20_by_vyatkina-d385fhu.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />It's my fault. I let it go on for too long.<br />It was fun for a little while.<br />Now I'm just mad.<br /><br />I thought he might actually want to come hang out with me. As a friend, no strings attached. I could be good. He could've just said no. I would've left him alone. I should've left him alone.<br /><br />lol Could shoulda woulda<br /><br />Instead it was a text conversation played out over several hours, his flirting and me trying to provoke him out of his hiding place.<br />With absolutely nothing, in the end.<br /><br />I don't know who he thinks I am. But I'm not some teenage sex fiend that can't control myself.<br />Yes I kissed him.<br />Yes I like him.<br />But I don't need that.<br />I need a friend.<br /><br /><br />Bastard.Wranglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548835719150744884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5110027227122884689.post-33175112791175611532011-02-17T14:24:00.001-08:002011-02-17T14:43:07.743-08:00Gone are the butterflies<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2010/235/8/1/Hunting_for_butterflies_by_YaraKlaproos.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 504px;" src="http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2010/235/8/1/Hunting_for_butterflies_by_YaraKlaproos.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />I've been trying this growing up thing.<br />I'm not really succeeding.<br />Every time I look in his direction, my knees get a little weak.<br />"God, he's hot", I mutter to myself. And then thoroughly scold myself for getting distracted again.<br />"Your only going to get your heart broken," I scold.<br /><br />I don't even understand where this attraction comes from.<br />The night I went to see him. I asked him mid kiss...<br />"Why?"<br />"Why what?"<br />"Why do you like me?"<br />He sighed as if disappointed with me and stated a variety of reasons.<br /><br /><br />I wasn't fishing for compliments. I don't even like compliments... <br />They make me uncomfortable in the moment. (More on that at a later date)<br />I didn't get it. I don't get my attraction to him. Or his to me.<br /><br />I still don't get it.<br />I don't even know if he still likes me. Ever since I told him that I told M that I kissed him, he's left me be. Maybe to give me space. Maybe because he's not my dirty little secret anymore. I don't know. It frustrates me to no end this not knowing. Maybe it would be easier to get over this feeling, to grow up, if I knew that he'd lost interest.<br /><br />As it is, I apparently can barely go a week without contacting him in some way shape or form. Fortunately or unfortunately with mine and his current work schedule, we work with each other constantly. We maintain professionalism. Him probably better than I - as much as we ever did anyway. Innuendos abound at the restaurant. I think it's how we stay sane.<br /><br />I have conversations with him without him there in my head. Trying to work through this. Trying to justify everything I feel. Trying to just get my head on straight and move on. But for whatever reason, I feel like I'm being sucked in.<br /><br />But at least the butterflies are gone.<br /><br />I've never been like this. I don't pine.<br />Ever.<br /><br />Until him, I guess.<br /><br />Jerk.<br />Can't even appreciate it.Wranglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548835719150744884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5110027227122884689.post-21640719910192370312011-02-17T14:08:00.000-08:002011-02-17T14:23:01.954-08:00Get a life.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs15/f/2007/110/7/7/In_the_middle_of_the_road_by_gilad.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 550px; height: 384px;" src="http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs15/f/2007/110/7/7/In_the_middle_of_the_road_by_gilad.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I got off work at a decent hour last night. (Reasons notwithstanding) I started to feel a little frisky and wanted to have a little fun and chill out with some friends. Sent out a text once I got home received no answer. Fed the pup. Made some calls.<div>No ones home.</div><div>Everyone's sick.</div><div>Some have plans.</div><div>No one's available or nearby to hang out with me.</div><div>It sucks... I tried to get a little life in my life and no one's around.</div><div>Sigh.</div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe next time.</div><div><br /></div>Wranglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548835719150744884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5110027227122884689.post-25515070943188211542011-02-10T21:56:00.000-08:002011-02-10T22:11:12.916-08:00Loneliness<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZSaggy06eZgTizidXMvaFDX2BtNqIxPvgb2GeEXi6UE9JUMs0w43GpEuAqpM13ySHh5B5yUofyVU4jIWcGfixNdoTWRUSzsoriwT_atwd8weZVox_UKBCeI5QhZdxEX22uksz2IsCHFI/s1600/Dropped_Call_by_andrew_gw.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 177px; height: 264px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZSaggy06eZgTizidXMvaFDX2BtNqIxPvgb2GeEXi6UE9JUMs0w43GpEuAqpM13ySHh5B5yUofyVU4jIWcGfixNdoTWRUSzsoriwT_atwd8weZVox_UKBCeI5QhZdxEX22uksz2IsCHFI/s200/Dropped_Call_by_andrew_gw.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572309533643125746" border="0" /></a><br />I wish I had a friend to call.<br />I'm not one to hate being alone. I love my alone time but sometimes (like tonight) I want a friend who I can call without feeling like I'm a bother. Someone not connected to the boy. Someone who is willing to put for the effort in a friendship. Someone who sees friendship as a two way street.<br /><br />You have to be a friend to make a friend.<br /><br /><br />I thought I found one but instead I found a broken heart.<br />I'm almost ready to give up. This one was my last saving grace.<br /><br />'You have to be a friend to make one', I told him when he asked why I had come.<br /><br />'I need a friend,' I said when he asked me why I hang out with him.<br /><br /><br />I don't think he understood that he was exactly what I needed. Or maybe he did and he just doesn't care.<br /><br /><br /><br />There are other people.<br />But with everyone else, talking feels awkward and forced. I don't think I know how to cross the bridge from acquaintance to friend anymore.<br /><br />I'm trying to grow up.<br /><br /><br />Growing up is hard.Wranglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548835719150744884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5110027227122884689.post-48686760170638318552011-02-07T15:47:00.000-08:002011-02-07T16:02:14.430-08:00Trouble...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgawIUB1V4s1hcHITX1snh1RdZHf2lNs3Gsz2aDl1_zl98ue0u8PJ1mjfL03NbSOgFZAlf8hFWr5hsvwC5r1kN0RQaXzLKyGm-Vf0wCa7-3xeSP_lgBLjUUhrjzGWXQ8nEDKN4hFnvBny8/s1600/jeans+and+chucks.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 280px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgawIUB1V4s1hcHITX1snh1RdZHf2lNs3Gsz2aDl1_zl98ue0u8PJ1mjfL03NbSOgFZAlf8hFWr5hsvwC5r1kN0RQaXzLKyGm-Vf0wCa7-3xeSP_lgBLjUUhrjzGWXQ8nEDKN4hFnvBny8/s200/jeans+and+chucks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571102174401230658" border="0" /></a><br />I promised myself I would write today about this thing that has been on my mind for the last few weeks since I had the house to myself for an hour or so this morning since M started his new job today and the roommates are scattered to the winds...<br />But alas, here I am thirty minutes before I have to go to work with nothing accomplished except the sink clean, the toilet plugged (don't get me started), and eating a ham and spaghetti sauce sandwich (not as good as it seems at the get go - hey don't judge, I was attempting to be adventurous.)<br />The main idea was that I was going to grow up. For no good reason I seem to have my heart set on getting my heart broken. I have this huge thing for Trouble. I just need to get over it. I don't think friends are going to work since we are apparently magnets that can't stay away from each other unless the atmosphere of professionalism is between us. It's trouble.<br />What can I say? I know trouble when I see it....<br />And yet...<br />I can't seem to keep my heart from lunging for it.<br />Why do girls always find that one guy who is just absolute trouble?Wranglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548835719150744884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5110027227122884689.post-78447654087129492022011-02-02T10:01:00.000-08:002011-02-02T10:03:17.167-08:00Shame shameNot giving up yet. Just been trying to get my head around somethings before I write them down. And been failing miserably. Instead of actually thinking about them, I really just push them out my mind and make my hands busy.<div>So shame, shame on me.</div><div>Ah well, such is life, right?</div>Wranglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548835719150744884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5110027227122884689.post-84791302122124513702011-01-25T10:30:00.000-08:002011-01-25T11:44:50.542-08:00Sleepless thoughtsI couldn't sleep last night. My mind just wouldn't shut off. I keep going back and forth over stuff that really doesn't concern me. Instead I distracted myself with M. But now I have to go to work and work an exceptionally long shift on just over four hours of sleep. Someone save me.<div>I need to get over this hump and get back to being me.</div>Wranglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548835719150744884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5110027227122884689.post-48376067766710142292011-01-23T10:52:00.000-08:002011-01-23T11:03:20.286-08:00Wishing it was simpler<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs18/f/2007/225/5/7/Stress_by_millifrosch.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 392px; height: 600px;" src="http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs18/f/2007/225/5/7/Stress_by_millifrosch.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />So many changes...<div>They are all so little but it's just that extra little bit of stress that seems to cave me in.</div><div>I've been absolutely drained for the last three or fours days now and no matter when I go to bed I can't seem to catch up on any rest.</div><div>I start teaching riding lessons this next week. I'm super happy to be back in a place where I can work with horses again. The work is so obvious. So plain. There's no drama with horses. They just are. Horses don't lie. It makes life simpler.</div><div>Simple is welcome right now since I had to go and make life <a href="http://wranglersforceofwill.blogspot.com/2011/01/complicated.html">complicated</a>.</div><div>I'm still trying to get my head on straight about all that. It's dragging me down pretty hard core at the moment. I'll try to be less vague in another post... I just can't seem to put what's in my heart or head down on paper yet.</div><div>And now I've chosen to be a trainer at work. It's hard. I mean, it's not <i>that</i> hard but it's uncomfortable for sure. I have a hard enough time keeping track of myself in restaurant; let alone someone else too - and doing everything (and I mean <i>everything</i>) up to standards (even the stupid ones).</div><div>So here I am just wishing it was all simpler.</div>Wranglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548835719150744884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5110027227122884689.post-22444031715049145272011-01-20T22:08:00.001-08:002011-01-20T23:14:07.443-08:00Complicated<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs19/f/2007/289/f/a/fa6730fc656e178c.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs19/f/2007/289/f/a/fa6730fc656e178c.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">Sweet Infatuation by </span><a href="http://ahemjez.deviantart.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">ahemjez</span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>I get a big goofy grin anytime I think about our time together. He makes me smile and he's not even around. My breath catches when he touches me. I can't make my mouth say anything even resembling intelligence. My heart starts to pound when he watches me for too long. I can feel it in my ears. I get a pang of jealousy when I see him flirt with someone else. I never get jealous.<div><br /></div><div>Worst of all...</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>He's not <a href="http://wranglersforceofwill.blogspot.com/2009/07/because-it-was-monday.html">the boy</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div>Life just got terribly complicated.</div></div></div>Wranglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548835719150744884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5110027227122884689.post-41400690248765348072011-01-13T09:32:00.000-08:002011-01-15T09:18:52.645-08:00Self censorshipI talk to myself on a regular basis. Things always sound better in my head than they do coming out of my mouth. Since apparently there is something broken in that connection I have to talk to myself to make sure I don't sound like a complete idiot.<br />When I leave a conversation, I have to repeat what I've said to myself in sort of an afterthought censorship. Sometimes I even have entire conversations with someone without them even being there.<br />It's terrible.<br />I'm pretty crazy.Wranglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548835719150744884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5110027227122884689.post-41227914189032819242011-01-11T09:20:00.000-08:002011-01-11T10:16:06.409-08:00Stomach, meet butterflies<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://fc08.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2011/009/b/d/bddaf0de82963e4bd28e58dc7e305abe-d2x83ve.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://fc08.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2011/009/b/d/bddaf0de82963e4bd28e58dc7e305abe-d2x83ve.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />He kissed me again.<br /><br /><br />'I just got rid of the butterflies after the last time,' I told him. 'Two weeks! Two weeks, it took me!'<br /><br />'Really?'<br /><br />'Yes'<br /><br />'Lets go for three weeks this time.'<br /><br />And then he fucking kissed me again!Wranglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548835719150744884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5110027227122884689.post-3042518317598798552011-01-10T09:15:00.000-08:002011-01-10T09:27:13.329-08:00Setbacks to writingI'm definitely sensing a small problem with my blogging more. Firstly, I'm freaking cold. I could write in the living room where its warmer but then I always feel like someone's looking over my shoulder. So alas, I'm suffering with frozen fingers and draped with layers of clothes. Maybe I should try gloves...<br />Another is my life isn't all that interesting currently. Just a lot of work mostly.<br />A peer into my day would show<br /><ul><li>Time with my dog.</li><li>Time with the TV/computer.</li><li>Time at work.</li><li>Occasional drama with M.</li></ul>Though the drama is my own doing. My craziness that makes me female. I hate it.<br />I wish I could go back to being a good kid with a good head on my shoulders. Life was simpler.<br />Anyway... I still have a story or two up my sleeve. I just have to get them out of my head and arranged satisfactorily on paper. I think that writing even simple stuff like this will help get me get back in the groove.<br />It's not like when I was in school and was writing something every day for class. Because I'm not being made to write, I've kind of gotten out of the habit. And so I'm attempting to remedy that.<br />And here I am...<br />...rambling. lolWranglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548835719150744884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5110027227122884689.post-5916568655812424492011-01-09T09:52:00.000-08:002011-01-09T10:24:45.317-08:00Dreams are funny<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://th08.deviantart.net/fs31/PRE/i/2008/208/1/6/Dreams_Are_Dreams_by_olushia_loosiczka.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 510px; height: 657px;" src="http://th08.deviantart.net/fs31/PRE/i/2008/208/1/6/Dreams_Are_Dreams_by_olushia_loosiczka.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Dreams are Dreams by </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(65, 77, 76); font-weight: bold; line-height: 17px; font-family:'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><a href="http://olushia-loosiczka.deviantart.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">~</span></a><a href="http://olushia-loosiczka.deviantart.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">olushia-loosiczka</span></a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I've been having so delightfully intriguing dreams the last couple days. They are strange but not unsettling. Not the kind where when you wake up you are off your game for the rest of the day.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Instead, the kind that almost uplifts you and makes you smile.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">This morning's dream was so vivid and long. My parents backyard was massive suddenly and they had various empty flower box things everywhere. My best friend and I decided to do a little bit of gardening so we went outside discovering.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">A few were full with various vegetables that were a bit scraggly. And one particular had what I thought were those live forever plants that my mom's side of the family adores. But they turned out to be hermit crab type animals with plants as tops instead of shells that grabbed your finger and scared the living daylights out of me. We moved those into a different box and planted wildflowers where they were.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Nothing really grew in the dream yet but we had high hopes for a beautiful garden after some rain and time. We discovered an old hand pump that had more of a foot lever in a shallow pit next to our garden. I fell through the thin plywood cover on the lever and started flooding the shallow pit that my best friend was standing in. With a tiny bit of panic during and giggles after, she jumped out somewhat more damp after. We covered the pressure lever back up so we wouldn't unintentionally trigger a flood somewhere in the yard.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">After finishing our part in the new garden we discovered an underground house. It was huge and newly finished. Inside there was a bunch of game rooms, with a bowling ally and basketball court amongst the others. It super cool. My parents came down to play with us and enjoy the new hideout.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I don't remember everything else that happened. The last scene in the dream ended with me looking at the garden with fondness, even the hermit crab buggers, and hoping for progress and lots of color. I knew some of the seeds wouldn't take root because in some of the boxes we hadn't removed the gravel that laid above the soft dirt, just mixed the seeds in. But those that were strong enough would put root down anyway. I knew this and felt peace anyway.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I woke up to my dog jingling her collar feeling peaceful and rested and happy to greet the day. I almost hope I actually had that garden.</span></div>Wranglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548835719150744884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5110027227122884689.post-77533802218653955182011-01-07T09:28:00.000-08:002011-01-07T09:59:54.769-08:00Sometimes life does funny things<div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2010/028/6/9/new_life_by_meppol.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2010/028/6/9/new_life_by_meppol.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://browse.deviantart.com/photography/?qh=&section=&q=life#/d2iiyc3">New Life</a> by *meppol</span></div><i>Like throwing a wrench at your head.</i><div><br /></div><div>I miss writing. I haven't done it in so long. It's hard to write while living with someone. Especially when you want to write about said person.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm going to try to get back into the habit again this year. It's a tentative resolution because I'm terrible at resolutions. So I feel if I make it tentative, it will work out better.</div><div><br /></div><div>Other resolutions I want to try to keep:</div><div>Pay down a significant part of my credit debt. I don't have <i>that</i> much but enough that it's going to take me a little while. That root canal and losing my job two years ago really did me in (that was three grand by itself). This is definitely where my tax refund is going to go this year as well as every little scrap of extra cash that comes my way. I think I'm going to set a tentative goal at paying off three grand by the end of the year. It seems reasonable. Especially if I get this new riding instruction job that I'm drooling over. (Shh... don't want to jinx it.)</div><div>Get myself and the boy in better shape. Mostly the boy. I'm not the kind of person that manipulates my boy because I'm vain or selfish but then I kind of am. I'm really just tired of him <i>talking</i> about wanting to lose weight and then never doing anything about it. So about a month ago, I did it. I pulled out all the stops, waterworks and tantrums, every trick in the book. Not proud of it but it worked. When he gets a job we're doing P90. I have to do it too. And cook all the food. Gah.</div><div>I want to try to be a better employee. I'm really pretty terrible. I mean I'm a super hard worker. It's just that my attitude starts off all roses and butterflies and then goes to dumpster diving and grunge after a while. I just get to where I sit on top of my high horse and know what I am doing. A little hard to describe. At best, I would call it a sort of perfectionist's complacency. Anyway, I'm going to try not to talk back so much at work and keep my nose to the grindstone and let the little things slide off my back instead of taking everything to heart and getting pissy about it. This is going to be so much easier since the one manager I was the worst with was fired over my vacation.</div><div><br /></div><div>A friend of mine has started a <a href="http://acnewardiary.blogspot.com/">daily blog</a> of the war on her acne. I love the idea and I wish her the best. I'm trying to decide if I could do the same thing with one of my goals this year. We'll have to see.</div><div><br /></div><div>Hmmm... the puppy is whining. I need to take her somewhere and finish my to do list for the day before I go to work at four.</div><div><br /></div><div>Remind me to tell you about my newest drama later with the three kisses.</div>Wranglerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09548835719150744884noreply@blogger.com0