Catching up, Catching fire

Its 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.

I can't believe its been three years since I've posted.  Lets see if I can't catch up.

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.

I do less hiding.  I do more living.

We bought a bed.  A big bed.

It feels a lot like commitment without the whole ring and married thing.

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...

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.

But not really, a lot of spice.  I like spice.  Not on my food but in my life.  But with spice, comes drama.

And I hate drama.

Like really...

HATE drama.

Thus my conundrum.

Without spice, comfortable sounds like boring.  Easy sounds lazy.  Lovely sounds more like an insult. Love becomes a four letter word.

Gah.  When did I get so jaded? Hahaha

Gone are the butterflies

I've been trying this growing up thing.
I'm not really succeeding.
Every time I look in his direction, my knees get a little weak.
"God, he's hot", I mutter to myself. And then thoroughly scold myself for getting distracted again.
"Your only going to get your heart broken," I scold.

I don't even understand where this attraction comes from.
The night I went to see him. I asked him mid kiss...
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do you like me?"
He sighed as if disappointed with me and stated a variety of reasons.


I wasn't fishing for compliments. I don't even like compliments...
They make me uncomfortable in the moment. (More on that at a later date)
I didn't get it. I don't get my attraction to him. Or his to me.

I still don't get it.
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.

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.

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.

But at least the butterflies are gone.

I've never been like this. I don't pine.
Ever.

Until him, I guess.

Jerk.
Can't even appreciate it.

Trouble...

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...
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.)
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.
What can I say? I know trouble when I see it....
And yet...
I can't seem to keep my heart from lunging for it.
Why do girls always find that one guy who is just absolute trouble?

Stomach, meet butterflies

He kissed me again.


'I just got rid of the butterflies after the last time,' I told him. 'Two weeks! Two weeks, it took me!'

'Really?'

'Yes'

'Lets go for three weeks this time.'

And then he fucking kissed me again!

I am going to kick some serious ass.

Feet to the Fire

There's a meeting at work in a couple of days.
I'm dreading it.
There's been drama and this meeting is supposed to clear up everything.
It makes me nervous.
You know the feeling you get when someone important says 'Hey, we need to talk'. It's almost never good. This feels like that.
It's going to be one of those meetings where everyone gets to have their chance to talk without interruption. Good right? yeah... I hope so. I always have bad feelings about these meetings. Bad memories maybe? They always seem to cause more problems than they help. At least that's been the case in my memory.
This feels especially complicated since this meeting is with my boss and the managers.
I'm terrified that I'm going to end up in tears. I hate crying. I especially hate crying in front of the person who made me want to cry. I don't like giving them the satisfaction of seeing me cry. Bastards.
I like this job. But things haven't been anywhere near smooth in the barn since the old barn manager left and my boss moved up. Especially since he hasn't been doing anything boss like. And this is what this meeting is supposed to address. But it terrifies me. I think part of it is that I know (or at least, think) that most of the tension is my fault. If only I could be just an employee who only does what's asked and then go home.
But I'm not wired like that. I'm wired to be an overachiever. When I work, I work whole-heartedly. I've always said I wouldn't have a job I didn't like. And when I do have a job that I like, I always want to make it better.
I like working. It gives me purpose, I guess.
I've been told I'm a natural leader. I don't know about that. But I do know that I suck at following. I never mean to undercut anyone (unless their being a dumb-ass and as such deserve it). I just have lots of ideas to help things run smoother and I want the approval of those around me. (seriously though, doesn't everybody?)
I don't really have to be right. But I do have to be given good enough reason that I'm wrong. Don't tell me 'no' and not give me a good reason for it.
That doesn't sit well with me.
I can't handle a boss telling me 'no' just because they said so. It's stupid.
I know it's their purogative, being boss and all. But it's dumb.
Why can't I know the reason behind your decision?

This passion I have, I don't even know what it is or where it comes from. But it does get me in a lot of trouble. And that is why I'm slightly terrified of this meeting.
I just wish I could handle it. But I don't know how.
I'm sure all my worrying is over nothing and this meeting is going to be fine. Everything will work out fine.

But I certainly feel like my feet are being put into the fire.

Mistake?

It was just a kiss.

That's what I told him. It didn't mean anything.

But when does a kiss really mean nothing?

Never.

This kiss was about a missed opportunity. A crush that never quite made it through.

It was a promise that maybe someday.

It was a lie that I never wanted anything more.

The first was a gift.

The second...

well that one was a wish.

A Rest

Its hard to write when there is always someone there that might look over my shoulder at the monitor. It's not even that I care if people read it. Well, maybe some people. but it's like doing homework with the very music you hate blaring in the background... it just isn't possible. It's distracting in the worst way.
What I wouldn't give for a laptop sometimes. Or, you know, a room to myself. Ah the life of a poor college student with a roomate with a boyfriend with several friends who like to party... in our room with beer. (Crazy country boys, gotta love 'em)
I'm just whining. I love it. Really I do. Sometimes you just need a rest.
A rest.
That's what this week has been about. Was supposed to be about. I suppose, though, that life has a way of changing your mind about what you think you need. Like how I stayed up until four in the morning with the boy. That's a different kind of rest altogether. Oh but, a hot tub and a foot massage. I mean, who can argue with that? That certainly is relaxing, even with the acrobatics that followed...
And now, I'm craving something entirely different...

Blissfully Boring

So no big revelations or heavy issues weighing down my heart this day. I've moved back to school and haven't looked back. I'm really comfortable here. There are things to keep me busy and breaks just long enough that I can actually relax and not feel like a total bum. Classes don't start until tomorrow but today was busy enough with the start of the Job Hunt; getting and filling out applications that I hate, then returning said applications to important people and flash an innocent smile that hopefully convinces them that I'm a good choice to hire.

I'm a hard worker. It doesn't even matter whether I like what I'm doing or not. I'm a work-a-holic so as long as I'm working, I'm in bliss. So hopefully someone will take pity on me and let me work myself to death.

I just want a job. I want a boss that I can respect. I want responsibilities. I want to be able to pay my bills with money I made. It's all part of that independance thing.

Roomate's Boy pestered me all night last night so I had to set him straight with a deck of cards. He's been pouting all day. Calling for a rematch that I'm going to win. Luck, my foot.

I'll be writing more over the next few months less class or natural disaster interfere...Or the campus network crashes for the umpteenth time (ah life of communal living!).
Nothing eloquent or special here today.
Just living and loving life.
My life.

Fabulous

I bought this spectacular little black dress this morning. Spent money when I shouldn't have especially this close to Christmas. Waited in suspense all day long just to it home to prance around since the two minutes appraisal in the dressing room at Penneys.

I really can't afford this...

But it is fabulous.

I really can't be spending this money...

Its black, I would wear it more than once. Every girl should have a little black dress. It's a fashion thing.

It's a little snug...

It's sexy.

It shows my knees. I hate my knees...

Oh get off it, you love it. It is on sale...

...

This dress is so mine

I don't indulge in being female very often. I actually try to supress the impulse any time it tries to rear its ugly pink, fashion-consious head.

But this really is a fabulous dress. I'm so going to knock them dead.

The Art of Guy Stealing

I love to dance.

Anyway to anything and with anyone

(...just about...)

definately not with the creepy guy who keep groaning everytime he sees me shake my ass.

That's so not cool.

not hot.

not sexy.

not anything.

When I go out, which is not usually all that often, I go to dance, not to drink.

Drinking just gets me into a groove a little faster. And more confidence to really let loose.

But I definately don't have to drink to have fun.

I feel one of the best things about going to a bar is that you can do just about what ever you want on the dance floor and if someone thinks you look like an idiot they'll probably just chalk it up to the fact that you are more than likely drunk. That's just my philosophy.

I managed to get myself into some mischief last night when we went out. A couple guys from out of town were looking for a good time. They were pretty well drunk by the time we even got to the bar. The girls and I were getting drinks at the bar and just hanging out. As the better songs came on, my boogie came out just a little bit more. I kept getting nudged toward the dance floor, but I wasn't quite ready. Y, my suitemate, had her boy there with us. The new guys were sitting next to her. Somehow they get to talking about wanting to dance She asked them who they wanted to dance with and and They had pointed to me and said "that one" so Y calls me over.

"You (pointing to me) and You(pointing to striped shirt) go dance."

Me: "Well, alright.."

And the song ends as soon as we hit the dance floor. Striped Shirt bows out and we head back to the bar. It's about here where I should introduce the creepy guy with glasses standing behind me who was staring rather obviously at my ass and groaned audibly anytime I dance in the near vicinity. Such a buzz kill. And I was even buzzed. I hadn't had a drink yet.

K bought me a rum and coke and we discussed said creepy guy. I'm trying to save my money. I blew a lot at some random trips to walmart the past couple of days but I digress...

a local boy, Moose, came up and asked me to dance.

Now, here's my philosophy on that. I'll dance with just about anybody who asks me because it takes a pretty big set of cajones to ask any random girl to dance. Except the creepy old guy, nuf said. We don't want to encourage that one.

Throughout the night I danced a lot. A lot with friends, several by myself, a couple with random guys who said they couldn't dance. (I have this thing with people who believe they can't dance, I don't care if they actually can or can't keep a rhythm, the point is to just have some fun.) And several with Striped Shirt. I made him salsa dance with me because I didn't know of anyone else who would since Roomate wasn't out with us. Apparently, one of my girls had her eye on Striped shirt and I was causeing some trouble with her pulling out the moves.

At this point, I feel I should say that I don't care who who goes after and usually I'll stay out of the way, but I was there to have a good time and Striped Shirt was too. We just wanted to dance and have fun. Besides, I have my own boy who I love. I don't need anyone else.

Too bad SS wasn't interested in her.

Now, I had no idea she was even trying to go after him until her and a KDub ambushed us on the dance floor. I let C take him and KDub gave me a look with her hands on her hips said, "Don't you have a boyfriend?!?"

"Yes I do." And I walked off the dance floor.

She can have him. I didn't care.

He was cute and nice and not trying to pick me up (well at least not obviously until the end of the night.) so I was ok with dancing with him more than once. As the night wore on, C kept cornering the poor boy. I had to come to his rescue a few times but he was polite and didn't just ignore her.

He came over to talk to me at the end of the night asked me about my boyfriend, ah... so they told him... not that I was trying to keep it a secret, I just don't feel the need to tell everyone I dance with my entire life story.

"Our heat doesn't work in our room we're staying in, so I keep trying to get my buddy to sleep with me. Hey get over here and keep me warm and he tells me 'hell no'." I laughed and told him I could think of another solution to keep him warm at night. He kinda coked his head and looked at me.

"C"

He threw back his head and laughed. He shook his head. "Well, what if I said I'd rather have you keep me warm."

So much for not trying to pick me up.

This time it was my turn to shake my head. "Nope, I'm taken. Sorry. I'm very happily taken."

But the end of the night, I was sick of the drama that I had apparently caused by stealing this boy. Cause, you know, that's exactly what I was trying to do by turning him down.

I borrowed a pen from a friend and wrote my number down on a scrap of a receipt that was left in my wallet from some bygone era where I used to try to keep track of where my money had gotten off to. Just a simple, call if you're ever in town again.

I handed it to him.

Just to piss her off.

Maybe I was in the wrong in the first place, but man, if you know me, you know I'm not going to cheat. I'm not going to take some boy from anyone else. I may save them from you but that's as far as it goes. And it goes both ways... I'll save you from them if its needed.