All right, who’s looking for me using both my blog title and “simplyblueiis”, do you think? Earlier this week, someone was searching for “simplyblueeyes”. I know this sounds stupid, since I put my life out here for anyone to see, if they really want to, but it’s still a tad bit… creepy… that someone could locate me. I think of all the people I’ve ever googled, all the email addresses that I’ve ever searched, and the fact that I’ve always thought people would be stupid not to do the same. But… that doesn’t mean I want them to.

Anyway. It’s neither here nor there, because there isn’t anything I can do about it. There aren’t that many people who know about the simplyblueiis email address and can pair that with my actual name, so I guess I’ll presume I’m … well, I was about to say safe, but that’s silly.

I feel as if I’m getting a bit of a cold or something. I thought that earlier today, too. I ache and feel icky, like I’m getting sick. But my legs are dead to me, thanks to the leg cramps. And I burned the roof of my mouth with my lunch, so it’s possible that that slightly icky feeling is due to that, too. I guess time will tell.

Walking up and down stairs today was a sort of exquisite torture that I can’t even begin to explain. I can’t recall the last time my legs hurt this much. Of course, I’m strangely looking forward to doing leg cranks again, now that I know how much they can really kick my ass. Perhaps I’m a bit of a sadist. It’s not the idea of the pain, but the idea that I can take it, and still walk, so obviously I should do it again. I swear, this is how boys much think sometimes. It’s like logic completely escapes me. It hurt, so I should do it again <insert Goofy laugh here>.

I went to the library tonight after work and got some books and CDs. I poked around a little more, too, and was left wishing that I still had my library card for the Hammer. Their library is much bigger, but then again, the population is about five times as big. B-town’s library is okay. I’m positive that TheGuy’s sister was there, at one of the computers. Seriously? Because seeing them at work three or four days a week isn’t enough.

You know, sometimes when I type, I remember how The X Files always ended, with a shot of the computer screen, and the words scrolling across it as Fox (or was it Scully?) wrote out journal entries. And I remember thinking that man, that person must type fast, in order for someone to read along at the correct pace. Of course, it’s entirely possible that they sped up the tape. Duh. Anyway, sometimes I think that, and challenge myself not to make any typos when I’m pounding away at the keyboard.

Okay, that was totally a tangent. Curious1 is online right now, and I find that both humourous and annoying. He almost never appears online, and the past two nights, he has. I expect it’s a blatant invitation to me to strike up conversation, and for some reason, it irritates me. I can’t explain why, but the idea that he just thinks I’m going to jump because he snapped his fingers after almost a year? I mean, I enjoyed the time we spent together, but c’mon. You’re cute, but you’re not all that.

Woodstock wrote me an email today in response to one I’d sent her. I wasn’t sure how to word it, but the basic gist was that I wanted to get the point across that Mud and I haven’t had those serious chats yet about family and “what if” and “in the future”. In my opinion, and in the opinion of others, the fact that the man is flying cross-country to see me is a statement of intent. One doesn’t do that just for a piece of ass. Well, unless you’re… Nevermind, I won’t finish that sentence. 

Anyway. (clearly I’m loving tangents tonight) I told Woodstock I was concerned that I would appear to be rushing things, and that I didn’t want to give the impression that I wasn’t enjoying the relationship for what it is.  We all know patience isn’t my strong suit. But at the same time, if we don’t want the same thing, then what are we doing? If he isn’t willing to consider having kids, then what? If he isn’t willing to consider having someone move in with him, then what? If I’m going to move away from my family and most of my friends to a new country and a new city, is it unreasonable to expect that he’s going to have to foot some bills for a while on his own while I get established? And here’s what Woodstock said. I never replied back, because I spent most of the afternoon pondering what she said (in a good way):

But when you’re at the point that the guy is staying with you for nine days, at your place… uh, to me it’s time to get down to business and figure out if you’re just wasting your time. In a nutshell: I think you’re being too hard on yourself again. You’re doing the right things for the situation; be confident that you’re not rushing, and you’re not living too far in the future. You’re being smart, and if he doesn’t like it… well, then he’s being silly.

It’s good to hear that I’m not insane. Woodstock-at-Work can be very clinical, so I  assume that if she sees things a certain way, then it’s a logical response. I haven’t talked to Mud much today; I left him alone yesterday except two emails that were each one sentence long. And the hour-long phone call last night. And then today I sent him two texts and didn’t respond to the last one he sent. Like Grammar, I’m inclined to think that it’s rude not to respond when someone sends you a text. But I restrained myself.

I’ve been trying to give him some space to breathe. And something happened on Friday night, when I called T. and flat-out said that I was dating Mud. Like a lightbulb finally went off over my head. I don’t need to be insane, it’s okay. Blue can make it through this. Like a grown-up, even!

Other than that, my struggling libido returned full-force about a month ago. Chicago gave me hell for not mentioning it, and I guess I should because it is, after all, related to the depression. Let’s say interest in that aspect of my life has returned with a vengeance. Hopefully it sticks around for when Mud comes up. The teeth-clenching has also returned, and I’m less inclined to look favourably on that particular side effect.

Anyway, before I continue rambling nonsensically, I should go to bed. I remember one time a few months ago when I did in my triceps so much that I moaned in pain when I rolled over in bed one night. I expect that it’s gonna be one of those nights for my legs… God forbid a fire started and I had to run down the stairs, because I’d almost rather just sit and wait it out than attempt to get my ass down them tonight. There’s something to be said for bungalows…