All Revved Up

That’s it, I’m pissed. I might’ve been mad before, but sometime this evening, I surpassed mad and went straight to fucking death-star angry. The post below is a letter I wrote to Hockey. Oh, no, I didn’t email it to him, though he deserves it. I emailed it to Chicago, who read it for me. I wonder if he raised his eyebrows at all the times I used a variation of “fuck”. It truly is my favourite word, and yes, I know I’m an English major.

I sent Hockey an email around noon, asking if we were finished with the farce for sure this time. No response. Around three, I sent him another email. I deleted it, I deleted all of his stuff… Anyway, I finished it by telling him that Karma was a bitch, baby, and I hope he ducks when she heads his way. And that, my friends, is that.

So let’s recap, shall we?

This week, I had three major mistakes at work, not all of which were totally my fault, but which reflect poorly on me and piss me off. And I had to put up with my coworker implying I’m a fucking moron for being unable to do his job and mine while he was away last week.

I slept with a guy last week who decided to call me a slut this week because I wouldn’t sleep with him. (I unblocked that post – it’s below.) I’m still looking out the window at Candy Mountain every night, waiting for Photog to show up. I look outside every single time I park my car at home. I’m sure that feeling will eventually pass, but until then, I’m watching my back.

A jerk who’d stood me up twice before stood me up twice this week (oh yes, twice, betcha didn’t know THAT, did ya?). And I simply can’t bring myself to go fucking Super-Bitch on his ass, even though he deserves it. Oh, if you look him up on Canada411, the boy has a home phone number. I wonder how Mrs.Hockey  would like a phone call? 

The world went to hell in a handbasket this week. There was the earthquake in LA, the fact that Nick Perkins is awake and they still haven’t caught the stupid bastards who practically killed a 17-year old boy… The trial of the streetracers at Gage Ave is underway, and the newspaper is chock-full of articles about how the kid was severed by the car that hit him. And then there’s the fact that some (clearly) psychotic fuckwad attacked a young man on a bus bound for Winnipeg and decapitated him.

And to top it all off (yeah, like this is a big issue when some kid’s head was in a man’s hand earlier today, eh?), one of my cousins dropped off a letter about her happy freakin’ life, and how delighted she is that in five years, they’re going to retire to their cottage, if the Lord sees fit. Oh for Christ’s sake. Do you think He gives a good goddamn if you move to your cottage or not? And guess what? I’m not going to your daughter’s stag and doe. It’s bad enough I have to go to the shower, when you didn’t bother to invite any of the extended family to the wedding reception. And no, I’m not giving you my email address so we can “stay in touch that way”.

I think… I think I’ve been trying to remain calm and rational in the face of all these assholes I’ve been running into. In the face of how crap-ass Hell has been lately. In the face of how fucking awful it is to work 56 hours in five days. How much I wish that someone… just … someone (not one of you guys) would reaffirm my faith in humanity instead of constantly beating me down. Tonight I feel like I have the weight of the world on my shoulders, and the bad fish inside me is just vibrating with anger.

Whoompa.

Do you want to know what I really think? Here are my thoughts.

1. you’re actually still married. You think you fooled me, but everything you do and say points to you still being hitched. I think when you invited me to your place a few weeks ago, she was on vacation or supposed to be out with a friend, and damn it all, didn’t you get a shock when she didn’t fucking leave. Then what were you supposed to do? Rather than ‘fess up and be honest with either of us, you decided simply not to answer your cell. Or your texts. Or your emails. ‘cause we both know how mature that makes you look. I’m even willing to bet you took heat for your anxiousness, because let’s be honest, you hoped you were gonna get laid that night. I wonder if she kept a tighter watch on you after that, which would explain why it took you two weeks before you felt comfortable enough to contact me again.

2. You never call or email me or text me after hours. Sure, I totally bought the idea that you were free this past Monday, and that you were going to be free last night after hockey, and you’re going out of town with your family this weekend. But I sure as hell don’t buy that you don’t want to call or email me or add me back onto your MSN list. I suspect she noticed something… this wife that isn’t supposed to be living with you anymore. And now you’ve learned enough to watch your step and you’re lying your freckled face off. The fact that you called me at work the other day just reinforces that you don’t want to have “unexplained” personal calls to particular cell numbers on your phone. I’d even wager a bet that I’m not programmed into your cell, but that you’ve memorized the number and text me as you need to, deleting the texts before you get home. But deleting the call history would be kinda suspicious, if she’s the suspicious kind. So you played it safe and called me at work. No one would question a call to a company like Hell.

3. You really were planning to come over after hockey last night. Even being married, you would have gotten a free pass to be out late because it was your last game of the season, and no wife in the world would object to that. But I wonder what happened… Did she decide to go to the game, to watch, to be a good, decent wife, and support you in your last game of the season, and then you panicked and didn’t know what to do next…again? Or… was it when I told you that I had no intention of fucking you last night that you decided you weren’t gonna waste your time driving to Hamilton?

4. You’re a bit of an asshole. You’re clearly an inconsiderate dick who doesn’t give a rat’s ass that someone else is taking time out of her day, out of her schedule, to meet with you. But you have no qualms about hoping like hell that I’ll scoot out of the office to give you a fucking blowjob in a parking lot because you’re “in the mood”. I’m getting divorced because I thought my ex was inconsiderate and a bit self-centred. But you, fuckwad, take the fucking cake in that department. Not a single call, not a text, nothing. You know, I’ve been with an attached guy in the past. You knew that. And I know how the game works. I really wouldn’t have given two shits that you were still married. But every other guy knew how the game was played, and that you always had to be considerate and honest with the “other woman” when you try to fucking cheat on your wife. You haven’t got a clue how to do this. You shouldn’t be playing the game, since you obviously don’t know the rules.

5. You’re a player. I don’t know what your deal is. Maybe, instead of being an inconsiderate dick, you’re just an egotistical bastard who enjoys portraying himself as a sensitive, intelligent guy who’s interested in some girl (a girl who clearly deserves better than you and you know it). So you play with her feelings and her emotions, dangling the carrot and secretly laughing your ass off that someone could actually fall for this…again. Yeah, let me tell you something. It’s childish assholes like you that give Men a bad name. Your voice practically squeaked when you called me, pissed right off because you’d thought I’d stood your ass up in “revenge” when we met the other night before I went to work. Newsflash, though this letter might make you think otherwise, I’m not a bitch, and I damn well stand by my word. I said I’d meet you, and only a fucking hurricane would have stopped me from showing up when I said I’d be there. And if I’d been in a car accident or I’d gotten stuck late at work, I would have called or texted you to say so.

6. What the fuck is your job title? I don’t give a damn that you’ve been offered the position of VP with your company. Frankly, I flat-out wonder if it’s the truth. Your title changes from “Sales Rep” to “Canadian National Sales Manager” to “National Canadian Sales Manager” (which is fucking backwards, by the way). You clearly change it manually. Guess what? I’m not impressed by titles. Vice Presidents of a Fortune 500 company know my name and what I do. You think I give a shit what your title is? You’re a nobody.

7. You know, if you’d admitted that all you wanted was to get laid, then I’d have a lot more respect for you. Instead, you pussyfoot around, screwing with my feelings and my schedule, and you clearly don’t care.

8. Fuck you.

Nothin’ Better to Do

It’s 10:58. He was supposed to be here between 10:30 and 11. I haven’t received a text, a call, or anything. The only thing that’s been keeping me smiling tonight is Grammar. His texts generally crack me up and provide a great reason for staying up late. That, and letting Indigo fly around a bit.

Am I surprised? Nah, not really. I would be surprised if someone knocked on  my door in the next ten minutes. Especially since I fully intend to finish this blog post and take my ass to my nice, newly changed bed with the yellow duvet (I had the feeling I might need something cheery…).

Hell was hell today – what is it with everyone deciding that they need quotes this week? Luckily, tomorrow is already Thursday and I only work a half-day on Friday… I have to do a bit of running around on Friday afternoon. Asian wants to take me for a ride on Saturday, and I’m still (eep!) weighing the pros and cons of that particular idea. It sounded like a good idea two weeks ago. Now, not so much.

Candy Mountain was about the same as usual. I’m getting sick of working with the only guy, but he’s mine again tomorrow night, too! There was a very attractive dad who came in tonight… I talked him out of buying some stuff since it goes on sale on Friday. He got into my personal space a little… not that I minded! We decided his child is clearly a genius, very athletic, and intelligent far beyond his years. … Don’t shake your head at me! The customer is always right!

I didn’t talk to The Ex today at all. That’s unusual. I knew as time passed, we’d talk less and less, and that appears to be the case. I still wish him well, and we really should get on that paperwork…

It’s five after eleven. Think I’m going to take myself to bed. I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night lately for no reason that I can discern. Indigo’s usually chirping, so I wonder if someone is being loud in the hallway or the idiot upstairs is rearranging his furniture or something. Lord knows he was banging around up there at midnight last night.

T., I can’t shake the idea that you’re coming home soon. Really soon. Like, I keep expecting that this time when I go out the door, I’ll be going out for coffee with you. Every day. Must be picking up on your desire to move back to Canadia…

Bang a Drum

Bang a drum for the sinners
Bang a drum for the sins
Bang a drum for the losers
And those who win
Bang a drum bang it loudly
Or as soft as you need
Bang a drum for yourself, son
And a drum for me

Hockey and I are apparently getting together tomorrow night. Do I think he’ll show up? This time, yes. It’s hockey night, you see, so even if he is attached, he has a built-in excuse to be late getting home. Very late, even, since it’s his last game of the season. I’ll admit to cleaning up some – vacuuming the floor (which I was planning to do anyway; Indigo scattered feathers everywhere this morning when I cleaned his cage), cleaning the bathroom, putting away my clean laundry, doing my three dishes… I’ll save changing the bed for tomorrow, dependent on whether or not I hear from him after, you know, 5p.m.. I’m doing my best to keep my wits about me, and I think I’m succeeding. He’s setting off some red flags, so I’m trying to stay level-headed.

Candy Mountain was good today; AM and I talked. Actually, I talked. A lot. About sex. But you know, there aren’t many people you can discuss sex with in an open manner. Tonight’s general topic of conversation was blow jobs. ;-) We did absolutely nothing. Except watch the cute guys come in, and there were three or four tonight. Mmm, mmm, gooood.

Hell was all right; I’ve been busy for the past week doing quote after quote after quote. I know it’s my job, and I’m good at it, but really… Summer is supposed to be slow. Tomorrow I have a couple of returns to process and some other paperwork to finish up so my partner in crime doesn’t have to do it next week when I’m on vacation. And if one more person asks me what I’m doing on vacation, I might be forced to smack them. I’ll do what I want.

 There isn’t a lot going on in my life, otherwise. Texting occasionally with Grammar tonight; his first text to me was at around 9:25, asking if I was mad at him. I took this as a sign that he wondered why I hadn’t texted him, which I usually do as soon as I leave work. Well, I had to stop and get gas tonight, you see. Men. The guy at Candy Mountain says men are stupid, but women are crazy. I tend to agree with him.

I’ve been thinking a lot about moving lately. I had this… feeling come over me last week as I was driving down King St. It was that I wanted out. OUT. O-U-T. That is the first time I have ever felt that way about my city. It was almost shocking. Not that I have any intention of moving tomorrow or anything like that, but I have the feeling this is one of those ideas that’s just going to nest in the back of my head until I take care of it. Odd, because I’d be the first one to jump to the Hammer’s defense. I’ll let it fester and see what comes of it. (Have I mentioned lately that I love my little apartment with the hardwood floors and the yellow walls and the red cushions? I love coming home to it!)

Wasn’t Me

So today someone pointed out first thing that I screwed up at work. You know, everyone makes mistakes, I get that. Can you at least wait until I finish my tea before you drag me bare-assed over a pile of stinging nettles? It kinda smarts, you know?

Hockey emailed me off and on all day. Turns out he’s been offered a VP position with his company. I’m excited for him, and at the same time, very wary. T. and I talked tonight, and she shares my suspicion that our friend Hockey isn’t really separated. I don’t hear from him on the weekends, I don’t hear from him at night, he hasn’t added me back on to his MSN… He never calls me (thus no record of his calls).

I would very much like for him to be single, but I understand now what T. meant; how it’s possible to lose yourself in a guy, and still not trust him as far as you can throw him. Oh, I have no doubt that he “really likes me” as much as he says he does. At least, as much as he’s capable of. But I also have no doubt that he doesn’t really know what he’s talking about. It’s kinda sad, really. I’m not sure I buy anything he tells me, which sort of makes it a case of him fooling me while I’m fooling him. Or something. I think I’m dealing with it using a level head at the moment, though, so I’m just riding the wave.

Didn’t hear from Photog today. I did text T. though, and tell her that I honestly do not feel that I’ve seen the last of him. She pointed out that I never liked him to begin with. Yeah, I might’ve slept with him, but I didn’t like him. She’s probably right. On a scale, I’d say I 35-40% liked him. Anyway, he knows where I work, where I live, he knows my cell number, and he knows my work email address. He could reach me if he wanted to. I just hope that I really have seen the last of him. Seeing him again would give me goosebumps and a shot of adrenaline. No really does mean no.

Mom’s schedule has changed, so now I don’t know what I’m doing for my vacation next week. I was thinking of going to the ROM. And of course I’m going to Johnny’s on Saturday; his birthday is today. I was thinking of going to the AGH, but that’s probably a waste of time, since I don’t know anything about art. We’ll see. I want to spend some time on a beach with a book; I haven’t done that in ages.

And in sad news, The Ex put down Fergus the Cat today. He was the first cat I ever really liked. He won me over with his fat orange face and his puffy tail. The way he meowed for his dinner, and jumped on my chest at 4 a.m., insisting I wake up and pet him. How he’d eye Indigo and swish his bottlebrush tail back and forth… How the first night we had him, he insisted on staying in the basement, until about two in the morning. Then, he jumped on the bed and pounced right in between us, as if to say, “Hey, it’s been, like, three whole hours and you guys haven’t come to stare at me. What gives?” I’m going to miss you, my friend, and I never got a chance to say goodbye.

Bad Girlfriend

I have been waiting for a reason to use this song title. I love the song by TOAD. I didn’t expect to use it quite like this, though. Let’s get one thing straight right here. I am so angry right now, so amazed and so upset and so fucking floored that my hands are shaking. (this is making typing without typos a real treat, let me tell you)

Photog emailed me last Monday, right? After he “hung up” on our IM conversation. HE treated me like everything was fine, like he hadn’t basically accused me of cheating on him on Sunday. I ignored his email. Tuesday, he emailed me again. Then changed his username at the dating site, and emailed me again. I finally emailed him back and said no, I didn’t think a relationship was a good idea. Then he said his gut was right, he should have known, etc.. I deleted the email and then deleted my profile from the dating site. I removed him from my IM list, but didn’t block him, didn’t figure there was a need.

He IM’ed me at Mom & Dad’s today. He wanted to get back together. Actually, I believe his exact words were, “I want you in bed.” I was polite, but distant. Said that the only time we got along together was when we were in bed, so I didn’t think a relationship was a good idea. “Why” was what I got. I told him I was speaking with a few other guys now (i.e. I’ve moved on). I know what he thought of that, and frankly, I didn’t really care. So he suggested that he and I could be “sex buddies”. I said that wasn’t a good idea either, pointed out I didn’t want a purely physical relationship, and if I got interested in one of these other guys, how was that fair? I pretty much left it at that, and Dad wanted the PC, so I said goodbye and signed out.

I get home, had a nap, woke up, and signed in. THIS is what I got. THIS is why I’m so mad…

S says:
so r u up for it
Blue says:
hi.
Blue says:
i really don’t think it’s a good idea.
S says:
why
S says:
it can be fun
Blue says:
but why? i already said i don’t want a purely physical relationship with someone.
S says:
well we can have that and hangout as you figure out who u want
S says:
we have already been there
S says:
so may as well keep it up
Blue says:
no, I don’t think so.
S says:
u have nothing to loose [sic] just to gain
S says:
u really are a slut

And he immediately signed out. I was pissed right the fuck off and emailed him this:

THIS is exactly why we aren’t having a relationship. YOU ask me – practically BEG me – to have a flat-out physical relationship with you, and when I refuse, YOU call me a slut.
 
Nice.

In response, I got this:

well u are a slut…u fucked me at a drop of a hat. and now u are eyeing up another guy so fast..slut suits prefect [sic].

And before I let loose my temper on him, I deleted his email. I deleted his profile off my IM. I blocked him. My hands are shaking now, I’m so angry.

There is a difference in having a group of your friends call you a slut. If Brown Jeff did it, it was funny. T., also funny. NJ, when he does it in his emails, makes it sexy. Not since high school has someone used “slut” against me as an epithet. Oh yes, I know that those who anger you control you. I wonder how he’d like an email response, telling him that there were two reasons I don’t want to be his “fuck buddy”. 1) he clearly can’t handle it, and what if, in his anger, he gets violent? 2) he has the smallest cock I’ve ever seen, and yes, size does matter.

I’m writing here, in my blog, in MY space, because this is the only way I’m not going to lose it all over him and/or tell him those things exactly. How DARE he.

T., I know you said that they only know what you tell them and I’ve been keeping that in mind. Maybe I should have told Photog certain things about myself that I didn’t, and not told him others, but this is not cool.

Time of My Life

Well, I got Lorna. Lorna is a pretty ugly Royal Doulton figurine that my Grandma kept for my mom; Mom got it as a wedding gift from a family member she detested (there was some bad blood there with my biological Grandmother and her side of the family – we never knew any of them). Anyway, Mom was planning to take Lorna to a second-hand shop in town and sell her. Ah, no. C’mon, the fact that Mom hates her makes it a story, and the figurine must stay in the family for that reason alone! Sis didn’t really care if she got Lorna or not, as long as Lorna didn’t get sold. So I now own her. I also got a tiny little creamer and sugar pot, matching salt & pepper shakers, and the pink basket that I always liked. Oh, and a tiny cruet. And six dessert plates. Apparently my aunt – the moron – took ONE plate out of each of the two sets, leaving seven. Sis was kind enough to give me six so I had a “set”, and she took one herself. She got the horseshoe flowers and the two little flower pots, a relish tray, and a few other things. And we set aside some stuff for my two cousins, as well. It was all divided up without argument in about ten minutes flat, and damn, was that ever nice!

Creep and his g/f slept in this morning, and I was pretty pissed off, sitting in the parking lot of their building for twenty-five minutes, calling him continuously in hopes he’d answer his damn phone. Called Mom, and I don’t know if she caused the phone to ring louder or what, but he woke up finally. Forty-five minutes after we’d intended to leave, we finally hit the road. Creep is lucky that Grammar was around and I was texting with him and he was making me laugh, or else I would’ve been in a really rotten mood.

Played with my nephews for most of the day… Candy store + pool + dinner + hanging around out front = One Very Tired Aunt Blue. I took a bit of a nap upstairs, and I fell asleep in the pool. Sis says I burned my nose. That’s likely. Tomorrow I think we’re all going for breakfast, and we’ll probably hit the road shortly after that. Mom has to work tomorrow night anyway, and I don’t want to be too late getting home. Luckily, all my laundry is done, and Creep is most of the way through his. I have no idea where we’re going to put everything in the car; it was pretty full with the laundry on the way up here, and now we have the stuff from Grandma, as well as some pickles, and likely some food to take back with us… I helped Dad do his pay claim tonight, too. I type, he talks. It takes him longer to type than for me to talk. lol. These are the types of things I’m going to miss when they’re gone…

I’m always glad to come up, but I’m equally glad to go home. Mom is already planning on us going to Singing Sands when I come up, so I guess I better plan to be back up here in a little over a week. I can take my time, though, spend a day or two, and head back home. Sis was talking about taking the kids to Ontario Place, and she wanted me to go… I’m thinking there isn’t going to be much “sitting and staring ahead” that week. *shakes head*

Anyway, think I’m going to bed early for once. Wait… the fireman just IM’ed me. I might be a few more minutes. lol.

What Do You See

Questions first. No, I know nothing about a pink sweater. I don’t own one, and I don’t know anyone who does? And a big black rock? Got me. But I’ll pay extra attention. Metaphorically, of course, it could be anything. It’s funny that the weirdness comes up today. I was telling Candy Mountain guy about the loose woman who decided to live in my bedroom for a while this year. He thought it was cool. I said not so much. Also, one of the old employees – the one who came in last week and who I had to put in his place cuz that’s just the kinda bitch that I am – came in again tonight. I don’t think he realized I could both see and hear him. I’m 90% sure he was telling Candy Mountain guy and his buddy that I was hot. Which causes me to wonder if I misheard him, and/or if he needs glasses. Oh, and the petty cash thing? I think it was frowned upon and the money was returned, and that was that. They aren’t going to fire AM1, so…

Chicago, you can lose yourself. I can’t explain it any better than I have before, but it is possible. You lose a part of yourself, and you struggle to get it back. I’ve lost my peace. What T. would call my “coziness”. I know who I am and where I’m going. It’s not my path that I’m missing, it’s . . . like a piece of my soul.

T. got an email today. I’m constantly surprised that she’s surprised when things like this happen. But it really is one of her most endearing traits, and of course, that just draws them like bees to honey. That wide-eyed sort of, “What?” expression. Oh, poor, silly thing. Sometimes you need a Keeper. I’m glad you have The Boy. (and this is why you never could have stayed in B-town.)

Work sucked today, at both places. At Hell, I just don’t understand how people can be so… self-centered. Aren’t we all there on the same team, to help the same customers? In good news, I talked to one customer for twenty minutes. We just yakked, and that’s good for customer relations. And I had to do a rush order for another customer that I used to work with. He irritated the hell out of me at the Little Man’s Office, but it was so nice to hear someone who was happy to hear frome me….

Emailed Hockey this morning and wished him well for his trip this afternoon. He emailed me back around 4:30 or so. He was apparently in a hotel room and a bit… lonely. He also said something that sorta shocked me a bit… maybe he’s not as innocent as his face looks. But it also makes me think that AM1 and Chicago are both right – he’s looking for a lil’ sumthin’ sumthin’… which is fine, for now. But I don’t intend to stop talking to the other guys, and I certainly don’t intend to drop a damn thing in my life to make his life easier. Girl here has learned her lesson – give her a gold star!

Tonight, I miss a man. I want someone to cuddle with. I want someone to give a damn about me. Can’t you rent a guy? …. Oh yeah. They call them gigolos…

Blow at High Dough

I am still talking to Hockey. Sort of. I have thrown him back into the pile, which also contains Grammar, some guy named Luke (really his real name, lol), and HS. Theyre all potentials, I think they’re all hopefuls (?), and I have no intention of favouring one over the other. Oh, listen to me, like some princess from an Arthurian legend who has men fighting over her. Not hardly. What I’m trying to say is that I’m trying to treat Hockey like I treat all the others… A mixture of interest, humour, and casual disregard. It’s served me well so far. With help from Chicago today, I realized that I was treating Hockey in a manner similar to the way Photog treated me. That’s unfair and unrealistic. Chemistry is great, but it only goes so far, and I have to step back and remember my own constructs about the false intimacy that the Internet creates. I’m squashing all my normal impulses. Go me!! lol.

AM1 got a dinner invitation from the smokin’ guy who comes in to Candy Mountain on a regular basis. Who’s fooling who? We know she wants him (hell, *I* want him!) and I hope she’s doing him right now. AM2 gave me hell today for “encouraging” her. C’mon, like what I say one way or the other is going to encourage AM1 to cheat on her husband any more or less? Whatever.

Grammar has revived, and has been keeping me company with texts and postings on my facebook page until all hours of the night (I slept through my text ring last night at 3:28a.m.). I have no idea what his deal is, but yesterday, he suggested that we should meet. Yeah, okay, but I work a lot and he works nights. Maybe eventually. I invited him to come north with me this weekend, even offered to let him drive. lol. He said he works til noon on Saturday. Otherwise, he might actually be crazy enough to have agreed. That woulda been weird, but a blast! Creep and the g/f are coming. I’m picking them up at 7a.m. on Saturday. His ass better be outside that apartment building…

Work was Hell at Hell today. I found myself sitting in the bathroom around noon, wondering where in the hell I’d lost myself. Between Hockey, and these two jobs, and Photog, and T. going back south… I feel sort of … lost. Just adrift. I felt like I was standing at the end of a long hallway, ripping my chest apart to let a long, loud, agonizing, hurt, broken scream out. It’s like if I make enough noise, if I get lost enough, I’ll find myself again.

Rats

Hey, it’s a legitimate song title! Pearl Jam, baby!

Okay, tonight is a thoughtful discussion of human nature… for a few reasons. One, I saw Dark Knight tonight with Johnny. I’m not into Batman. I’m not into comic book movies. But this movie was amazing. I would definitely pay the eleven dollars to go see it again, and I just might. The movie boils down to good vs. evil, of course, as every comic book movie does. We’ve all got positive and negative in our natures, and what we do with that makes us the people that we are. Some of us are better than others. Some of us like chaos for the sake of it (Donny), some of us like to sit back and wait, some of us want to be the heroes… (on a side note, some ass stole my parking spot tonight. seriously? i have the worst parking spot ever!)  The Dark Knight movie really plays up madness, anarchy, and the struggle for good, bad, and ego. Go see it. NOW.

Two, Candy Mountain has been a hotbed of gossip and rumours. There are six staff. SIX. The place has been insane lately! Because I’m mature, intelligent, and not under 25, I’ve become the confidante of both assistant managers. One assistant manager did something that I had a problem with. It involved the business. She didn’t need to tell me – she should not have told me. She put me in a position where I had to tell the other assistant manager. Which I did. And she told the owner. Who told the first assistant manager that she knew. So now the first assistant manager knows that I told on her. God, got all that straight? And it sounds so petty. But T. taught me that if you feel the business is in jeopardy, you have an obligation to step in and do something about it, whether it’s the popular choice, or not. I don’t know how the situation is going to go down, but this is again about human nature. I don’t mind being your friend and your confidante, but you have an obligation to keep me out of stuff that’s not my business, and not give me information that I feel I must use against you.

Third, Hockey. Remember him? Let me see if I can … Yes, I can. Okay, I had a Hockey folder that I started the other day when I got his first email… for the third time. I deleted the folder this morning, because I knew then. What was it he said to me this time? This is from yesterday afternoon:

“What I mean is I’m not going to tell you I’m going to stay because that doesn’t mean much. I do, however, have the opportunity to show you.”

And as Pretty would say, then I laughed… I sent him a text last night and got no answer. I sent him a lighthearted, easy email this afternoon (literally, “It’s busy today! I wish it was five! How’s your day?”) and got no response. Unless he’s dead… I’m now trying to figure out his nature. Does he just need a random ego boost every two weeks? Does he like playing with my emotions? Or is he truly confused (I was about to add, “as a newly separated person might be”, but it occured to me I have absolutely no way to verify that he’s separated or that anything else he said is true). So explain his nature? What possesses a person to be that way – to lie, to create a false sense of familiarity… He’s not the person I thought he was. The polish has worn off, and I’m actually sad. But my Boy is out there, somewhere. I just need to find him, and I know it’s really gonna happen when I least expect it.

And lastly (but certainly not least), I heard from Mud today. He gloated a bit about the grass/greener etc. but I told him I was generally enjoying being single. I know he was working through lunch down there, which means the place was basically empty… He probably felt it safe to email me if there wasn’t anyone around. And probably why he felt it was okay to go out with me last time I was down there… No one knew but T. and The Boy. It’s like I’m a bit of a guilty secret. Okay, I don’t know if it’s “guilty” secret, but it’s definitely not something that he wants to share or even discuss casually with others. So what does that say about his nature? And his relationship with his ”not traditionally pretty” girlfriend? I know, T., I’m reading too much into it. But it’s my blog and my inner monologue. lol.

I just… I’m learning a lot. This summer is going to be about lessons, I know it. I’m learning about how I react to people, and how people take me and my reactions to them. And how sometimes I’m too quiet, and sometimes I’m too loud. I think human nature is ever-evolving. If it was static, how boring we’d all be…