Highway to the Danger Zone

I want to spend all my time with him. I saw him tonight for only an hour. He came down because he brought burned CDs for T.. That was really very sweet of him. I want to see him now. I wish he’d brought his stuff to spend the night, but he didn’t. (good shoes = good car = no work wear)

How can I have such strong feelings for this guy I still really barely know? He’s a good man, but now, I’m at the stage where I’m trying to determine if I like him or the idea of him. Do I like the idea of a steady boyfriend more than I like CB himself? I don’t think so. I think if that was the case, I’d be tired of him by now. I just can’t get enough of him.

There’s so much to tell, but the weekend was so busy. I spent Friday night with CB, at my place. He had to work Saturday morning, though. That was fine, so did I. I think he slept all right, but I didn’t get much sleep. Saturday I went in to work, then I went to the dentist. I got out of there about an hour after I expected to, and beat it to the grocery store to buy the rest of the stuff I needed for Sunday. Then I spent the afternoon baking for T., and getting ready for Sunday night.

I went up to CB’s place Saturday night with a couple of movies, none of which we ended up watching because he was falling asleep, despite having had a nap earlier. Then we got up early because he went out quadding. I went home and went back to bed until noon. Then I baked bread, finished getting ready for the party, gave up on my hair and put it in a ponytail, and ran out to Zellers for some paper plates and such. Then back to Second Cup to meet with Pretty and T., and then back home. Sis showed up, and finally CB did, and the girls didn’t leave until about ten. CB didn’t leave until 11:30.

Tonight it was work, then rushing home to do the dishes that I didn’t do yesterday, and then CB was here. We went out for an hour and drove around in the good car in a nearby town, then he dropped me off and headed home. He has to work tomorrow, and so do I.

Tomorrow night I’m off to Pretty’s place because T. is doing photos. I want to go, I really, really do (if nothing else, I need to do my laundry!). But I really want to spend the night with CB, too. However, I’m trying to maintain some of my own independence and my own life, because with my luck, I’d cancel the plans with the girls and CB would end up working until 9:30. I’m not living my life for someone else anymore. I did that for ten years – on purpose or inadvertently.

Anyway, I have to get stuff packed up for tomorrow so I don’t have to come home after I get my hair done. Maybe I’ll zip home at lunch, though, and let Indy out for a bit.

Man, I’m tired. It was funny – I asked CB if I was gonna see him on Wednesday night or not, because we’re leaving for VA on Thursday. He said, “I don’t know. I hope so.” I nodded, and as I’m stroking his neck and he’s pulling into Tim’s, I said, “If it sways your decision at all, you’re not gettin’ any next week.” The smile on his face was priceless. I like him. A lot.

I Wanna Be In the Cavalry (reprise)

O for the day that we signed our names and the well that we were wished
The men’s congrats and the pats on the backs and the ladies that we kissed
The band that played and the grande parade and the patriotic shouts
All faded fast, didn’t even last till the uniforms wore out

These poor men. I’m betting most of them are men, though the names and numbers haven’t been released yet. I’m sitting here practically in tears, reading the first news stories out of Fort Hood. Twelve dead, thirty-one injured, a Major to blame for the shootings. BBC is reporting that the shooter is still alive, despite earlier reports that he had been killed. They’re also saying he acted alone, not in collusion with two other suspects.

The suspected shooter is a psychiatrist, and that’s what hit me. How… how when you are trained to deal with this type of thing… how do you end up being the one holding the gun? How … what goes through your mind that this is the only solution, that this is the right solution? I think… sometimes, having been diagnosed with my own mental problems… I just have real difficulty now understanding why people don’t / can’t / won’t get help.

Getting help is the hard part, yes, but getting better is easy. I know that I’m talking from a simplified point of view. But even Dooce says that she recognized signs of post-partum depression the second time around and got additional support for her problems, so it’s not just me thinking that it’s… not easy, necessarily, but good to reach out and get assistance. Admitting you have the problem is hard. Implementing the solution is almost a relief.

I know I’m jumping to some conclusions here, and that not everyone who has a mental illness is depressed, and that not everyone with a gun has a mental illness. I realize my logic is flawed. But I can’t help but have a very emotional response to things like this. It doesn’t help that his name gives him away as non-White.

I’m just… I’m sad.

Meet Me Halfway

I spent my time just thinkin thinkin thinkin bout you
Every single day yes, i’m really missin’ missin’ you

When he’s here, I don’t want him to leave. When he’s gone, I wish he was here.

I texted CB tonight to see what time I should expect him. The reply? “Not sure. Workin” No shit, Sherlock. Ugh! I wasn’t too happy, but I tried to stick with Chicago’s newest informational gem – “Semper Gumby”. Always Flexible. Got it. So, shit happens. I went to Chapters after work and bought a will kit. While I’m there, I get a text. “I’ll be there in ten minutes”. Good Lord, this man is going to drive me to drink.

The pork chops were done, I just had to cook the rice and steam the broccoli. Little did I know (until after dinner) that CB doesn’t like pork chops or broccoli…normally. His mom cooks chops until they’re rock hard. (Sound familiar, former mother-in-law-of-mine???) I did mine in mushroom soup in the crockpot with real mushrooms and a bit of cream. They fall apart, of course. He ate two. He ate the brown rice without any complaint, and actually cleaned out the pot when he had his second chop. And the broccoli? Well, hey, he didn’t know that steaming was an option… So he liked that, too.

That’s right, folks. I am a good cook. Ahhhh. We all have to be good at something.

There was more mockery tonight. I loved it. That means he’s getting more comfortable with me, right? Not afraid to pick a little? I rubbed his back and his legs again tonight, he seemed a bit tense. Then he curled into me, with his face under my chin, our legs all tangled together, and his arm wrapped around my back just about as close as we could get. I somehow magically forgot that Hell was meh today and my legs hurt from going to the gym.

I realize that I am a sponge, and you know, I tend to sponge up peoples’ emotions sometimes on purpose. If someone near me is in a bad, sad, or angry mood, sometimes I mentally reach out on purpose, opening myself to taking away some of their angst. I don’t do it that often, or with that many people, but I do try it sometimes, and sometimes it does seem to work. (AM2 is a favourite candidate for this behaviour.) But when I take away CB’s stress, when I feel him relax, I don’t get filled with his tenseness. Maybe because he’s touching me, too? So there’s something reciprocal about the sponging? I don’t know. I wonder what T. thinks. I know she gives massages, so I wonder what she’s ever experienced.

My bed smells like cologne and CB, and this stupid smile won’t disappear off my face. One last thought, to leave you with an EEEEE! moment…. “Yeah, I guess the only people I’m buying Christmas presents for this year are you and my parents,” he said, offhandedly. Christmas is two months away!

Hard to Keep a White Shirt Clean

I agree with Corb. It is hard to keep a white shirt clean.

Today I was pretty productive… just not at work. Hell is dreadfully slow right now, which is a refreshing change from how busy September was. But it makes for a long day, checking the same credit request five times just to see if perhaps someone over in Europe woke up to approve it.

CM was also pretty slow. There wasn’t a list of things to do, and Lord knows I tend to agree with TheGuy at the moment… trying to go out of your way to do something different generally results in AM2 dismantling your work and starting from scratch, so really, what’s the point?

CB was supposed to come over tonight, but when I called him at 8, he wasn’t all that sure if he was working or not. Twenty minutes later I had a text saying he was working, and was I off earlier tomorrow? I said yes, asked about going to the movies, and told him I’d make dinner. So the pork chops that I bought the other day are sitting in the crock pot in the fridge right now, covered in mushroom soup, mushrooms, and garlic and onion powder. I wanted to put in onions, but much to my dismay, the only one that I had left is black and squishy (ew).

I’ll either make rice or nuke potatoes, and I have broccoli in the freezer. Dinner done with a minimum of effort, so long as I remember to take the crockpot out of the fridge tomorrow morning and set it.

I also got my legs NAIR’ed. Actually, one was NAIR’ed and one was VEET’ed. I wonder if the hair will grow back faster on one than the other. If nothing else, the Veet smells better. Look at me, I’m a walking experiment.

That reminds me of an article that I read on MSN today about men and scent and how women are – at their most primitive level – attracted to men based on scent. The article indicated that men could be “fooled” by scents, but that women’s noses were far more accurate than a man’s. One researcher has found a pheromone in men that attracts women, but repels other men and lesbians. Weird, eh? Perhaps being gay really isn’t a lifestyle choice? (not that I ever thought it was, but ya know, some people do.) But right now I can’t find the article or the name of the particular pheromone. Stay tuned tomorrow.

Sunday

For those who wake
With a blind headache
Who must be still
Who will sit and wait
For sunday, to be monday

Some of us (Pretty) woke up with hangovers (Pretty) this morning (Pretty). Some of us (me) did not. However, it sounds like of the two of us, Pretty had more fun.

I got a lot accomplished today, in my mind. I changed the bed and washed the mattress pad and the sheets. I took down the curtains in the bedroom and picked up the rugs in the bathroom and entrance and washed them, too. I did what amounted to very little “clothing” laundry. Washed all the towels and sheets. Hung everything up / put everything away / remade the bed.

I grabbed some compost bags from the store and emptied my planters and put them neatly on the balcony. The bags filled with dirt and dead plants are down at the curb now, next to my recycling. I’ll take the garbage bin down in the morning. Right now, the barbecue is sitting on top of it, and it’s still bungeed to the rails.

I did the dishes, vacuumed, made breakfast (bacon, tomato, a banana, tea, and some slices of Quebec bleu cheese). And I cleaned the bathroom and vacuumed. Not bad for a Sunday.

CB called around 4:30, and said he’d see me later. But I had the feeling, from the tone in his voice… and I knew he was really tired. Anyway, I went for a nap. I took a book, but let’s face it, I meant to sleep. I conked out for about two hours. On top of the fact that clocks changed this weekend and I slept in extra this morning… (after going to bed last night around 12:30 I woke up at 7:30, determined that was too early, so I lay there until I fell asleep again for another couple of hours. It was nice, having nothing to rush off and do.) Anyway, I hope not to complain too loudly about a lack of sleep this week because I got a fair bit this weekend.

T. said she and Seko would come by for dinner on Sunday. With CB, that makes four of us. I’m hoping Pretty can come, and it would be great if Johnny showed up, but I’m not hedging my bets on that one. But if it’s me and T. and Seko and Pretty, then that makes CB the only boy, and that just seems mean… I wish Chicago lived closer. Seeing as I’m not really speaking with TheEx right now, and Chicago lives so far away and Johnny has the kids, I’m a little short on male friends right now.

I’m a bit ticked at CB, but I really can’t clarify why. Okay, that’s not exactly true. I know why I’m a bit ticked, but frankly, I can’t justify it in my own head. He said that he would see me today, and then when I talked to him today, he said he would see me later. And then he went home and apparently fell asleep, because I talked to him half an hour ago and he said he was out cold and going back to sleep. That’s fine. The guy gets up before dawn on the days that he works.

But. I mean, what if I’d had plans today? What if I’d had plans tonight? Am I just supposed to sit around and wait to see if he’s coming by or not? At the same time, I came to the realization that there was no way in hell I was going to go out and do anything tonight, anyway. I could’ve volunteered to drive to Dunnville and didn’t. It’s just… the same with last night, when he said he was gonna shower and come down. And then two and a half hours later, he finally showed. I guess I just find it a bit disrespectful, that he doesn’t have a lot of consideration for other peoples’ time. But again, I wasn’t gonna do anything tonight, anyway. So what is there really to get mad about?

I guess I’ll wait and see if it becomes a regular occurrence and then maybe I’ll say something. I know on the nights that I work and he comes down, he doesn’t usually show until 10. But that might be his way of giving me time to get home and in the door, you know? So I’m not sure if it really is a disrespectful thing or not. And today, well, he had to work. So… ?

I watched a documentary earlier on Black Hawk Down. The movie is on now, it’s part of History Television’s Fact and Fiction series. I just… after watching the two hour documentary, I couldn’t handle watching the movie. Too much bad. I’m not sure who was right and who was wrong, but just the fact that something like that could happen, that it did happen, that it’s probably still happening… It’s sickening. To drag a dead soldier through the streets… a man who was there just doing his job… I hope to God I am never, ever that angry with someone, never that disrepectful of human life. See, here I am talking about CB being freaking late and in the grand scheme of things, it’s nothing compared to what it could be.

I guess perhaps the Sunday blues have caught up with me. I have to make a plan for next weekend – it’s going to be a busy one!

Thriller

So tonight, I told him. CB told me that he never gets off orally, which explains why he’s not keen on it, I suppose. So after we yadda yadda’ed tonight, I said, “Can we have a discussion before you leave?” (he has to work Sunday.) “Sure,” he replied. Very straightforward. I like that. With TheEx, it was always… like he was afraid to hear what I was going to say. And I didn’t realize how much that bugged me until I found someone who didn’t do it. Anyway.

So I asked him what it would be like if every single time he had sex, it consisted of a bj and he never finished. … I said, “Do you see what I’m getting at?” And he said yes. Then, for the first time, he actually asked me what works for me. So I told him. He said it was odd. I said no, it’s not. It’s far more common for women not to get off during sex than it is for women to get off during sex. But anyway, I said to him, “I really, really like you a lot. But I need to get this to work.” He said, “I like you a lot, too.” EEEEEE!

He’s been so damned affectionate for the past week, so very comfortable with me, I think that having me meet his friends was a big deal, perhaps some sort of unconscious test. I guess I passed.

He came by tonight and was in jeans and his dress shoes. I’m sure the BMW was parked outside, but we never made it out there. He said he was in the mood for chicken and pasta. How convenient – I had two chicken breasts that I’d already cooked, and pasta, and a jar of alfredo sauce! Presto, dinner was done! I sauteed some onions and peppers and mushrooms and garlic and added it to the sauce. I added some Pillsbury rolls to the side (omg, he’d never had Pillsbury rolls. WTF?!) and that was dinner. Not enough veg, but I’m working on that.

I got my grocery shopping done today, too. I figured out that CB time is somewhat similar to Pretty time, and that meant I had time to get the groceries done before he showed up tonight. If Mud taught me anything, it’s that I can’t always get people to work to my schedule. And that’s okay, I’m trying to learn to work within other peoples’ worlds. Within reason, of course.

CB told me tonight he has three paycheques in his car that he hasn’t cashed. He said that about an hour and a half ago, and it’s really bugging me. I have no money. I have a budget, yes, and I’m paying down my bills, yes, and I’m far better off than I was with TheEx, yes, but … I can’t not have a paycheque. And I guess it makes me ashamed when I hear of people who can get by without one. … like I’m failing at something or I’m not good at something. And I know that’s not the case, and that for the most part, I’m doing pretty well, but I still feel kinda bad. It makes me angry at that person, when I know for a fact that I’m really angry with myself, even though I manage my money pretty well.

I’m too hard on myself. T.’s said that, off and on for years. Chicago tells me every now and then. Pretty is constantly trying to bolster my self-esteem when it comes to CB (“No, he is NOT going to leave you. He thinks you’re amazing. You are amazing!”). But AM2 really slams it home sometimes, and makes me stop and think. When she says, “You work too much. You should have a coffee sometimes and do nothing” or “Right, because you’re just such a slacker”. And I realize that she’s proud of me and what I’ve accomplished, but she’s also pointing out that I work too hard, I drive myself. I wonder why. I guess that’s just part of who I am.

I asked CB if he’d take me to see Paranormal Activity, and he said yes, he wants to see it, too. But for the sake of him not thinking I’m completely insane, I haven’t told him about the whole “I’ve been haunted” thing. I still have a hard time remembering, or trying to write about what happened in the apartment, all the weird coincidences. Some things, I guess, are better left alone.

Anyway, it’s technically November 1, so a shout out to Woodstock for a Happy Birthday! As she points out, she’s only four months older than me. As I point out, that’s technically a year…

asdfghjkl

No really, that is a song title, I swear.

CB came over tonight and showered at my place. Actually, he was here before I showed up. We talked for a bit, then he drove me over to pick up my prescription and some pop. While we were at the mall, he got a call that he had to go back to work at 8:30. So we ate a quick dinner, yadda yadda’ed, and off he went. Damnit. I wasn’t all that happy about it, but I understand his reasoning for going, and I can’t argue with a guy who’s helping out his boss, a guy with a torn tendon and a broken ankle.

Pretty happened to be coming over anyway, and I told her that CB had made comments about high school again. And that I wasn’t letting it bother me, as per her instructions that I’m way hotter now than I was in high school, and if this was a high school fantasy thing then it would’ve been over by now, but that he’d said something about why hadn’t I groped his bum in high school. So she looked at me, tilted her head in that way she has, and put it all into perspective.

“This started in high school for him,” she said. “Remember how with you and Mud it started for you way before it started for him? You started the journey before he did?”

…. and the clouds parted and a ray of sunshine shone down on my dumb blonde head ….

“For CB, this started in high school. So he’s at a different point in the journey than you. But that doesn’t mean it’s a high school fantasy, because if it was, it would be over by now. And it sure would’ve been over after he’d introduced you to his friends.”

And that makes total, complete, 100% sense. CB doesn’t keep referring to high school because he wants to still be in high school, or that he wishes I was the high school version of myself. He keeps referring to high school because, as Pretty put it, “that’s when it started for him.” Oooooh. Like me talking about walking around the lake with Mud. That was a big deal to me. Not so big to Mud, because he didn’t see it the way I did. But CB noticed me in high school. I was part of his high school experience. He wasn’t part of mine.

Now, I’m listening to techno dance music (WTF??) and thinking I should probably hit the sack.

Oh, another thing. I started the yadda yadda part of the evening with oral. And CB put a stop to that and we just yadda yadda’ed together. And after, I asked him why he’d stopped me. “Well, how long did you want to keep going?” he asked. “How long would it have taken you?” I asked him. His response? “Never.” Wow, dude. That’s like throwing down a gauntlet!! Never. He has never gotten off orally. Which is probably why it doesn’t factor into his repertoire. But I enjoy doing it. And that really surprised him. So perhaps we can find a bit of middle ground there.

And now that I’ve finished telling you things that you don’t want to know about me… I’ll leave you with this. “Doggy style” is kinda… naughty. Right? Good girls don’t like it like that, only porn stars do. So how – when you’re not the one in charge in a relationship – do you tell the guy that you’re with that you want it from behind? (not in the behind, but from behind) Sticking your ass in the air seems so… not sexy.

Love

It seems like only yesterday
You were just a child at play
Now you’re all grown up inside of me
Oh, how fast those moments flee
Once we watched a lazy world go by
Now the days seem to fly
Life is brief, but when it’s gone
Love goes on and on

CB was supposed to come by tonight but wasn’t able. That’s okay, I think he’s planning on coming down tomorrow, based on the conversation we had when I left CM.

I’m so damn lazy tonight. I’ve done nothing – just sat here and played Farkle on FB and IM’med with T. for a bit. It’s now about twenty to eleven and I’m headed to bed, I think. I have dishes to do and crap like that, and no interest in doing them. Tomorrow is definitely another day for that junk.

Mom is coming down with my costume on Friday; I’m working an extra half hour so I can take an hour for lunch and we can get together. Otherwise, it’s been pretty quiet at Hell, even one of the other guys commented on it today. Not a good sign, but not much we can do about it. It’s a five-week month, and it’s a damned long one. November is almost here, which means Grandpa’s wedding, and T. coming to town (not since May has she been here!) and Creep’s birthday and so on… Then it’s practically Christmas.

Let’s not rush things, Blue. There’s plenty of time before the year ends. Now take yourself to bed and fall asleep with a smile on your face again.

… for the record, I have a few friends who need some kind thoughts, so take a minute here… T.’s mom. Pretty. AM2. TheGuy from CM. Just take a minute to send some good karma their way.

Puppy Love

I am in love with this man.

I can’t help it.

He’s practically perfect.

I know I might look back on this post in a week, in a month, in six months, and wonder what the hell I was thinking.

But for right this minute, I can’t wipe the smile off my face.

He came here, even though he was clearly exhausted. His face was drawn and he was just not happy. But he came because he wanted to see me. Last night, when he wasn’t able to come (car trouble – alternator problems), he IM’med me to say, “I was really looking forward to seeing you tonight “

Guys, don’t ever, ever discount how important the words are to your woman. It was so amazingly wonderful to hear that. Then tonight he came over, and he brought bulbs for my car. He went out and bought bulbs for my car. And then he changed my brake light, and now it works.

I bought him dinner (Swiss Chalet – who doesn’t love Swiss Chalet?). Then he still wasn’t quite “right”. So I asked him to lie down on the bed and I rubbed him from toe to head and back again. His feet, calves, hamstrings, his back, his thighs, that tendon that runs past his knee, his tris and bis… The back of his neck is his favourite spot, I think. And by the time I finished, he was in a much better, more calm mood. Not that he was upset, but I think he was just really tired.

Then we lay there for two hours and talked. About why I broke up with TheEx, why he broke up with his ex. About sex and sex toys and religion and politics. About this and that and dating and everything. God.

No sex, Chicago. Either I’m doing something very right or very wrong, I’m not sure which. Because at some points, during the whole rubbing process, he was … excited. But he didn’t. And you know, I’m not in charge, so I didn’t, either. lol. I could stay wrapped in his arms forever. I think we’re finally getting past the tiptoeing stage and we’re actually getting to know each other now. And I still like what I see. A lot.

I need to share the karma story, but that’s for tomorrow. Tonight, I’m going back to my bed, which apparently “smells great” and definitely “smells great” now because CB lay in it for three hours, almost. Me likey.

Workin’ 9 to 5

So last night I posted my blog entry about the concert. I’d actually written it at 4:30 Monday afternoon, because I wasn’t really busy at work and I wanted to jot down my thoughts.

Now I’m doing the same thing – I didn’t really get the chance to blog last night, so I’m doing it now, at 12:30, at work.

I worked last night at CM with Rico, who is leaving for Japan in about two weeks. He’s taking a teaching position there and he’s over the moon about the concept. I would not be over the moon about going to another country, where the first language isn’t anything even resembling English, and where I know no one. I’ve learned in the past year that I like my friends, and I love my family. I’m not sure that moving half a world away would be a great idea for me. (As an aside, I always criticized Sis for not being able to move away from Mom and Dad. But perhaps she is stronger than I am in being able to admit that she needs familial support?)

CB was supposed to come over last night, but I called him when I left work (I’d missed his call) and he was extremely pissed off. He called me back at about 10:30. He’d been planning to come to my place, but had problems with his car and the alternator belt that resulted in him driving home with no lights on, and having to take part of a day off work to play with the car today. He caught me on IM a little later and said that, “I was looking forward to seeing you tonight. ” I was touched, he doesn’t often say things like that, so it was really nice to hear.

He’s planning to come over tonight, but I haven’t any idea when. I brought my gym stuff just in case and I’ll have to stop by the mall and pick up my prescription, anyway. I saw the doc about an hour and a half ago, and he agreed that I could stay on my Prozac until the new year. Yes, he said, December wasn’t a great time to start coming off the pills. So I have 60 days plus a refill, and I have a physical booked for January 22. I’ll talk to him then about going off the meds. He said that I’d be taking one every other day for three weeks, and then one every three days for three weeks. Then hopefully I can fly free and without Prozac, at least for a little while. I expect that this might be a problem I have on and off for the rest of my life, but at least I know how to treat it.

There was a guy out in front of Hell yesterday… he deliberately walked into the path of a transport truck and was killed instantly. I am so, so glad that my depression has never once invoked suicide. Sure, everyone has thought about it, but it’s always been an idle thought for me, not something that I could see myself doing. I never bought a sharp knife or a razor blade with the intention of killing myself. I never seriously contemplated driving my car off the road or walking into the water with my pockets full of rocks. I certainly can’t imagine just stepping off the sidewalk and into the path of a truck. I feel worse for the driver than the victim, though. The poor driver, who has to live with the fact that he inadvertently killed someone. If you’re gonna go, if you’re gonna take your own life, do it yourself. Don’t put someone else at risk by your foolish actions. That driver has to live with that for the rest of his life.

I haven’t anything to do here at work right now, but I probably shouldn’t advertise that fact.