Good Fish, Bad Fish.

All right. I’ve been up here for two and a half days, and I’m ready to come home. The family is great, but it makes me miss my solitude. I know that Creep is in the same city as me, but we see each other so rarely that it’s like we’re not only 15 minutes apart.

Mom and Dad are in the back room right now, arguing about how to make the room cool. Yes, really. The argument is about whether the air conditioner works… “It will only take it down to so many degrees below whatever it is outside…” is part of the argument. Um, … open a window. Oh… wait, still listening… It’s because I have the fan in my room, they need the A/C on. Ah. I think Mom’s continuous hot flashes aren’t working.

I’m going home tomorrow. I’m going home tomorrow. I’m going home tomorrow. . . lol.

(I have this mosquito who won’t leave me alone; it’s bitten me at least twice but the bloody thing (ha ha, like the pun?) flies away every single time I try to smack it. Stupid thing, not dying when I want to kill it!

Talked to Hockey via IM and text today. I was stupidly happy when he texted around noon. Yes, stupidly happy. This is not good. He wants to go out for dinner tomorrow night. I’m thinking that’s not such a good idea. One of us has to be the reasonable one, but I keep shaking my head at the idea that it has to be me. T. says that she doesn’t get the “player” vibe from him, so perhaps he’s just naive, or perhaps he just doesn’t care. Anyway, we’ll see how that goes tomorrow. I’m leaving here around noon at the latest – I have a few stops to make on my way home (groceries…and…uh…etc.). And I have to clean up a bit and make the bed before company arrives.

It’s funny… It’s only been two and a half days, but I miss the routine of work. Perhaps because I’m working so much. Or perhaps because lying in the sun today fried my brain. *shakes head* Not back to work until Wednesday, thank God!

Not much happened today. It was all right day – went with Mom to Owen Sound and Meaford. Went to Meaford looking at headboards, and yep, the one I want is still $142. I still haven’t bought it. I also didn’t buy a $40 jewelry box that I liked. I did buy a $5 book and a $1 nail polish – I know, big spender, huh? My mom just looked at me. I know I’m cheap. I’m okay with that.

Heard from Hockey this morning only . . . he did warn me on the phone last night that I likely wouldn’t be able to talk to him much today or tomorrow. I think it sucks. It’s the situation. I understand that. I made the comment today that I wished he was mine. His response: “I’m not?” NO. You’re NOT. You belong to someone else. Damn it.

Had a long talk with T. last night via IM. She always pops up and spends the time just when I need her most. She said she could feel my anxiousness, my vulnerability. Yeah. True dat. lol. She also reminded me not to be ruled by my sign, which was a reminder I needed. Sometimes, I’m such a typical Pisces that I forget the great nature vs. nurture debate. She reminded me that there’s more than just me involved. And sometimes, even as empathetic as I think I am, I forget that, too. My actions affect others. Especially in this case.

Sis and the boys came over tonight. Gave them all their NYC swag, and they seemed quite pleased. The Oldest Boy wasn’t impressed that his shirt was fire-engine red instead of fire-engine yellow like Middle Boy. Oh well – can’t win ‘em all. They did all wear their shirts, and Sis seemed impressed enough with her hoodie. They stayed for dinner, outlasted their welcome (as usual) and went home after the fireworks down by the lake.

No sun for me today – it rained most of the day and was cloudy and miserable for the rest. I did get in a nap, but I feel like I need to go to bed again. Something about being up here (probably the fresh air) really does a number on me. Or maybe it’s that I’m all worked up about Hockey and it’s screwing with my head.

Mother’s getting food ready already for me . . . stuffed steak, regular steak, there’s lamb. . . We’re (c’mon, she) is going to make donuts, and now there’s talk of potato salad… I’m going to eat so well next week!! God, I hope I hear from Hockey tomorrow…

I knew you were something special when you spoke my name
Now I can’t wait to see you again.

OMG. Hockey has me quoting Miley Cyrus lyrics. MILEY freakin CYRUS. T. would tell me I’m in over my head; she told me today that it wasn’t that I fall head over heels, the problem is the guys that I fall head over heels for. Pretty would tell me I deliberately fall head over heels for guys who are unavailable, because that way I don’t have be responsible for them. Chicago would tell me to do what feels right, I think, and Johnny would tell me that as long as I’m happy, not to worry about it. At least, I think that’s what they’d all say. (Chicago, by the way, I forgot you were on vacation and I really bloody well miss your emails!)

I heard from Curious1 today via IM. It just pissed me off. T. said it was because Pisceans can’t handle the NSA aspect of NSA relationships. LOL. She’s quite likely right. Frankly, I would think if you want occasional sex with someone, you should at least make an effort to say hi every now and then. Is there a difference between FWB and NSA? One is missing that “friend” word. Is that just terminology, or does it actually matter? I think in my case, it matters.

Granted, I can’t get this bloody guy (Hockey) out of my mind. He’s making me crazy. Not like Curious1 crazy, because with him, I knew it was never ever going anywhere. We are from two totally different worlds. I grew up with barns and a bicycle. He grew up with clubs and motorcycles. Today, though, when I heard from him, it just irritated the hell out of me. Perhaps, Pretty, that proves I’m moving into the “I want more” category?  Does that mean I’m growing and developing as a person? Or that I’m once again falling for the wrong guy?

Hockey’s a Pisces, too. He’s saying all the things I want to say… and in return, I’m saying a lot of them, too. That’s dangerous shit. It’s very dangerous to admit to an attached guy that you like him a lot, and that he makes you want more. It’s stupid and dangerous. It’s . . . that’s heart breaking sort of dangerous. And stupid. Like, that sort of humiliation wherein the hottest guy in school asks you to the Senior Prom and you find out that he was never really interested in you and it was all a bet? (No, no, it never happened to me, c’mon, people, don’t you know a movie plot when you hear it?)

But then he leaves me voicemails that say things like, “I really like you a lot.” And when I call him back, he emphasizes the point that he’s not playing games and my cutting my time short with my family is not a wasted effort and he wants me to know it’s for real. The scary as fuck part is that he’s saying all the things that I want to hear. And, really, isn’t that too good to be true? It’s got to be too good to be true. Guys don’t feel this way about me. Hell, The Ex never felt this way about me.

I haven’t let myself feel like this since Donny. A year ago. And Donny turned out be a liar. A liar who takes advantage of women and then plays the injured party. A liar who says everything a woman wants to hear, and then obviously laughs his ass off behind her back. So yes, T., I totally see the potential for hurt. I’m sure I’m setting myself up. But I’m tired of driving with the brakes on. Isn’t something bound to go my way sooner or later? Who says that “thing” can’t be Hockey?

Who knows… maybe it is all an illusion, and this “naturally passionate” feeling will dissipate on Monday, and it will all have been just a dark parking lot on a Wednesday night, never to be repeated. At least right now, we’re both enjoying the goosebumps . . . right?

Hockey is apparently in Calgary as of this morning. I’ve gotten a few sporadic texts… nothing for about five hours. It’s making me bonkers, which in turn is making me nutty, which in turn is making me feel stupid and ashamed. Heart and mind are warring on this one. This one would be easy to give in to. It’s not like Curious1 or even Mud. Well, maybe a bit like Mud. That sort of comfort, that when I looked away, I knew he was looking at my cleavage and not at my pudgy stomach. That sort of “wish he would call right now” feeling.

That sort of, hope I didn’t rearrange my visit up north for no reason sort of thing. Email was down at Hell today, but I had a really hard time concentrating on anything, anyway. I spent my day reliving last night, from the first glimpse I got of him walking in the door to the way he sort of announced that he wanted to see me again. And how tickled pink I was at the thought. And how much I wish he wasn’t married, because this guy is a keeper. That bitch is lucky. LOL

But, in true Blue form, I’m gonna try to stick to my guns here and follow the unspoken rules. You know, the things you don’t discuss, the questions you don’t ask, the phone calls and texts that you don’t send.

Shit. I have to finish packing for up north still. This is how scrambled my brain is – when I can’t remember that I might need to put my toothbrush in a bag or something. Jesus. I know Carlo cut and dyed my hair tonight, but I swear I’m not really a blonde, Hockey just makes me that way.

I like your pants around your feet
I like the dirt that’s on your knees
And I like the way you still say please
While you’re looking up at me
You’re like my favourite damn disease

Y’ever have those nights where you’re all, like, sleep, what the FUCK is that? and you’re like, wondering why you should even go to bed because you’re like, all wound up and shit?

Yeah, yeah, it really is still me behind the keyboard. I just had an interesting evening out with Hockey. Which really does nothing except further convince me that all the good ones are taken. I think I could get used to that kind of attention. T., tell me no.

Wow.

Sparks indeed.

I’d say more, but that’s pretty much all I’m capable of. My brain is fried, melted into goo (can it be both melted and fried? ice cream can, right?) and totally wishing Aunt Flo had taken the week off. Stupid bitch.

Ah well. Anticipation. Condoms. Must buy condoms.

Gotta go. This isn’t making any sense, even to me. ROFLMAO.  g’night everybody, i hope you enjoyed the show….

PMS sucks. My lower back is sore. My head hurts. My pants don’t fit. I feel like shouting, and it hurts to twist.

Sitting here talking to T. (who is coming home earlier than expected) and Aussie. Was talking to Hockey, but he was having IM problems, I think, and then vanished. Haven’t seen him since. For once, I’m not worried. I’m sure things are fine. And if they’re not, I’ll live. I spent the day emailing him (Chicago, does that explain the scarcity of my replies? lol) and we’ve arranged a tentative and very vague meeting for late tomorrow night. In a dark parking lot. Have no fear, I’m not completely stupid. I’ll make sure someone knows where I am and who I’m with. Not exactly a virgin at this. Hmm. Pretty much not a virgin at anything. Meh. Oh well. Hockey sounds interesting and a great deal more mature than his age shows. We’ll see what happens in person. Doesn’t hurt that he’s cute.

Otherwise, not much is new. I’m supposed to be doing laundry tonight, but I took a nap and accidentally slept for an hour and a half. I have no idea what I’m going to wear for the next three days, but I think it’s going to involve a great deal of skirts. All my dress pants – with the exception of the two pairs that I still haven’t hemmed – are dirty. I wish we could wear jeans to work. But then the Germans might get us. Ahhh!

I think I’m in the midst of burning my fries. Wonder what I’m going to eat for dinner tomorrow? Hmm. Chicken on brown? Might work… Now, where’s my Midol?

A little poetic license, perhaps. It’s not my eyes that are hungry, more like my stomach, but it’s too late now to eat anything, so that’s just how it’s gonna haveta be.

T., I have two letters for you. UB. That is all.

I know Chicago is the only one actually commenting  on my blog, but I’m getting about five or six or more viewers a day. I wonder what that means. I wish there was a way to tell if it was the same people – i.e., if I have groupies. lol. Me, with groupies. Gawd, what a thought.

Nothing new or exciting today. There’s a debate raging in town – the fate of the Lister Block has finally come full circle. For those of you who DON’T live in the Hammer, basically, we have this decrepit old building downtown. It’s actually the first indoor mall in all of Canada. It sits right on a major intersection, and it’s boarded up, hasn’t been used in years. The facade is appartently priceless, the interior is shot to hell, and the big debate has been whether or not we should try to save it, or whether we should tear the damn thing down. Personally, I’d prefer we try to save it, because we’re going to regret it if we don’t. There was a deal in place with LIUNA to rebuild the Lister Block, but then they changed the design plans part of the way through and that fell through. Well, City Council voted today to buy the building from LIUNA for $25M. Kicker is that they want LIUNA to commit to a “second phase” (i.e. condos or a retirement home) and guarantee a tax revenue of $600K.

LIUNA quashed that plan. Now Council has until Wednesday morning to come up with some other plan. I don’t know what to say. I’d like them to save the building, but then they have to have tenants to put into it. City Hall staff would be great, but the problem is, they want to designate City Hall as a heritage building too, ugly piece of crap that it is. But, still. If they tear down the Lister Block, we’re going to end up with another parking lot.

Okay, rant over. I’m still hungry, now I’m tired, and I’m talking to the Aussie. I had planned to be asleep by now….

Tonight’s not a good night. Don’t patronize me, don’t make me feel better, don’t leave me comments or send me emails that tell me everything’s going to get better. Sometimes, the only way to get rid of the pain is to wallow in it.

This, courtesy of Fark, is my new favourite thing. I turned the setting all the way to “sad” and “nostalgic” and put in songs with less lyrics and got wrapped up in its beauty for a while. I think this is my new bedtime ritual.

I guess in this case the title should read “What An Idiot She Is”, but that’s not the song’s title, so we’ll just have to make do.

It’s Sunday night, I’m sitting here with this bloody new keyboard that I’m still getting used to, and the bloody mouse, both of which sporadically disconnect from their wireless server if they aren’t used often enough. Then I have to press a series of buttons in some secret, random order in a cursed-fueled attempt to get the damn things started again. I’m so glad I paid $15 for this set.

Anyway. I’m watching Grey’s Anatomy, and sitting here eating frozen fruit (instead of ice cream – everyone cheer). I’m not appearing online right now to anyone (how’s that for a bit of disconnect anxiety, Johnny? Hell, I’m even – going to – there, I’ve turned my cell off, too.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m feeling antisocial. I imagine it’s a bit of PMS, but right now, I just don’t like people. Perhaps it’s because I’ve had to deal with them all day, perhaps it’s because I’ve never been a people person. I want to close my eyes and go to sleep like Indigo (curled up against my neck right now).

I’m very much looking forward to going north next weekend and letting someone else take care of me. Sometimes, I think we all just need to go back to being six. Sometimes, being an adult really does just suck.

(there is someone  – or some people – upstairs. it is not my normal, loud-car-starting-otherwise-completely-silent upstairs neighbour. frankly, whoever it is is irritating the hell out of me. you’re walking on a hardwood floor, motherfuckers. take your goddamn shoes off.)

I guess I’m not exactly the cheery channel tonight, am I?

yet make it funky….

Today was a busy day. I need to learn to take these Saturday afternoons and go sit at the beach with a book, or something. Running around like a chicken with my head cut off isn’t helping me.

Worked at Candy Mountain until two. Headed over to the pet store and spent over an hour looking at an aisle of cages, trying to find a new one for Indigo. I settled on one, eventually. Of course, they don’t have any unassembled in boxes, so I had to take the damned display model. This sort of made the choice easier, because a lot of them were poorly constructed by the geniuses at Petsmart. This new cage is about one and a half times the size of his old one. Bought him a new bell and a swing. Of course, in typical Indigo fashion, he refuses to touch the damn thing. Oh well. He’ll get hungry at some point.

I also went to Future Shop to find myself a microphone for the PC. I have it on good authority that the audio systems in webcams aren’t particularly great. Having now heard The Ex’s webcam (and my own voice echoing back), I tend to agree with that summation. Luckily, the sign was still up for the headset. Instead of paying $45, I paid $26 on sale (sale ended yesterday, no one took down the sign). While I was there, I also spotted a wireless keyboard and mouse Open Box special, on sale for $50, down from $59. However… it was on an additional sale for $14.99. Da-yum. Since we all know how much I like putting my feet on the desk and kicking back when I’m writing (which, uh, I do so very frequently, uh, these days), I had to buy it. C’mon. Fifteen bucks?! (I am making so many typos…keys aren’t where they’re supposed to be…)

(Theres’s a bug crawling down the wall. This is only the second bug I’ve ever seen in my apartment. I’m kinda fascinated.)

I have to write an editorial for the UnOfficial Erotica Newsletter at WDC. I have no idea what to write about, but I told the new Senior Editor (who was me, until about a month ago), that I’d have an issue for her by tomorrow. Yep, procrastinating…

Assembled the birdcage, talked to Aussie for a few minutes, tested my new mic with The Ex, and ate some tuna pasta salad. Haven’t been hungry much the last few days. Ate lunch yesterday, had a croissant and that tuna today. I’m staring at a peach…

And that’s that. Probably to bed early tonight and hope the bird lets me sleep in a bit in the morning. The bags under my eyes are turning into black bags. Not a hot look.

Oh, and have you ever heard of Jeff Dunham? I had not. Candy Mountain coworker talked about him… I looked him up on YouTube and laughed so hard I cried. Almost like T. was here.