Good Fish, Bad Fish.

Quick post tonight. It’s only 8:30 and I’m tired as hell. T. treated to me to dinner tonight and I had this awesome shrimp dish with hot bok choy on the side. It was… different. Tasted about like I think hot lettuce would taste, but it wasn’t slimy or overcooked. Then a giant chocolate chip cookie smothered in gelato… Anyway, suffice it to say that I’m full to my gills.

AM2 told me – when I went there at lunch to see how she was doing during her twelve-hour shift – that she hadn’t been in touch with me lately because she can’t handle my “ugly” moods. Now, I stopped being friends with someone because she always brought me down, and I have enough empathy and sensitivity that I can understand someone saying that to me, but it was still…hurtful. I don’t ever want to make anyone feel that they can’t be with me because of my moods. I know where she’s coming from, but I still felt… bad. Very bad.

Anyway, I wanted to put up a few comments that Sis had made lately that made me smile. Here’s the first -

Nephew3 reminds me SSOOO much of you sometimes…. I was up with him last night for a lot of the night; he made his little hiccup geese comment [that his hiccups sounded like quacks] and then about 1:30 I decided to have a piece of jam & bread and he looks at me with his face pointed away, your crazy little smile and the shifty slidey eyes and says “You donna share dat mum??” I AM raising my siblings lmao…..

I thought that was cute. I guess I’m touched that even if I never have children of my own, my gene are stll being passed on. Here’s the second thing – it’s a bit long, but worth saving. I’ve paraphrased it a bit – consider it half my comments and half Sis’s, though the story is all hers. . .

OMG, I totally don’t know why but this is making me think of Nephew2’s sorting by species exercise from school the other day. I am totally living with Creep here….

Madame gives kids this page of animals in squares to cut out. Page contains in random order:
4 cats        6 dogs
3 cows      2 horses
1 robin     1 rooster
1 hen        4 chicks

Nephew2 has two pages of animals when he comes home [he had to do the exercise twice].

Sticky note on second one reads:
“This is Nephew2’s second attempt at grouping animals by species. He did not know what to do with the 3 birds in the top corner.”

The top page was Nephew3’s second attempt at the species-sorting exercise. It has a line down the middle. One side has Madame’s handwriting noting: “Can’t see their ears” – this is how Nephew2 separated the animals. “Can see their ears” and “can’t see their ears”.

The second page is grouped together in boxes drawn by Nephew2 - cats, dogs, cows, horses, chicks and in three separate boxes in top corner: rooster, hen, robin.

So, I open the conversation:

-Madame wrote a note here
-yeah, i know
-want to know what it says?
-sure! Does it say I did a good job so I got to do it again?
-um, not quite, it says you didn’t know what to do with the top 3 birds. Did Madame ask you where they belonged?
-yeah, and I told her I didn’t know
-um, okay, why wouldn’t they go with these birds down here? [meaning the four chicks he put in one box down in the corner]
-’cause those birds are chicks, they’re babies… baby chickens… that rooster is a grown up boy chicken and the hen is a grown up girl chicken and robins aren’t chickens at all… so I think Madame screwed up and they shouldn’t have been in there at all… maybe she put them in on accident
-ok, one, we don’t use the words ’screwed up’ and two, who decided to sort animals by ears or can’t see their ears?
-I did
-Why?
-I dunno, how else would you group them?
-um, well, I think Madame was more looking for groups like cats, dogs, birds etc or farm animals vs. pets or maybe has 4 legs vs 2 legs, you know, the simple things that would see roosters, hens, chicks and robins in the “BIRD” group….
-yeah, I guess you could do it that way

I’m so glad I’m an aunt to smart children. The boys are just such a treasure to have around, even if they aren’t mine.

Today was yet another miserable day. Hell was hell, starting with my boss trying to tell me that I was a moron (for the record, I am not a moron and could prove it). I insulted the new computer guy. I spoke poorly of him without realizing that he was in the area, and I have no idea if he heard me or not. If he did, he was extremely polite about it. But he’s got a crush on me, I think, and I am simply trying to discourage any overt signs of adoration. I guess that makes me sound like a stuck-up bitch, but it’s just the truth.

I felt really special, though, when one p.m. rolled around and I realized I only had four hours of work left in the day, not eight. Small things, I guess. Tomorrow’s another twelve-hour saga, but it’s the last one for this week. It’s screwing me up, though, because I normally work Wednesday and Friday, not Tuesday and Thursday. My head is all lost as to what day it is and when I’m going to be able to wear jeans to work (only on Fridays).

CB was talking about coming down tonight, but did not. This is the third night in a row. But tonight he finally explained why. He’s stressed. About work. About his boss. About his parents, I think, though he didn’t admit to that. Possibly about me? I don’t know. I’m stressed about him, so why not? He didn’t want to complain at me, he said, he just wanted to go home and hopefully sleep it off. I asked if he’d been to the gym already, and he had. That didn’t help. But for a guy who didn’t “want to complain”, he complained for twenty solid minutes on the phone to me. I’m glad he did… I sincerely hope that it made him feel better to share his concerns with someone else.

I BBM’ed T., and told her that sometimes I wish I could initiate the sponge-y part of me, deliberately soak up people’s bad feelings. Hell, if I can do it inadvertently, why can’t I do it advertently? (yes, it’s a word, I even checked) With CB being out of sorts, and T. being totally out of sorts, and so on, I think that part of the reason I am out of sorts is because everyone around me is. She said that it’s great that I want to fix everything, but that sometimes the fact that I can’t just adds stress to my own brain. Well, shit, I’d never thought of it that way before, but she’s probably right.

I did get one problem solved – Pretty is helping me with my snow tire problem. I have staked claim to some that fit properly (that would be 205 50 R16s, for those who are keeping track… I think these numbers are going to keep me awake for a while, and potentially drive me crazy like Hurley). And I looked at my bank account and I think I can actually afford them!

I didn’t want to go to the gym, but I heard TheLifter’s voice in my head as I came up Fairview St., so I turned in and spent half an hour on the elliptical. It did help. Then I came home and sat. And did nothing. Of course, I was waiting for CB, but I realized sometime around seven that he wasn’t coming. And I was getting angry, but then when I spoke to him, I just didn’t have the heart to add to his stress. There’s time to talk about schedules and consideration, but he was trying to be considerate tonight by not foisting his rotten mood on me. I can’t argue with that.

I was on the phone with CB when Grammar showed up. I felt bad for Grammar, but I indicated that there was no way I could hang up. He handed me the roll of bills and left. I think he was probably a bit relieved that he didn’t have to make small-talk. At least, I would have been, in his place. I have to stop at the bank in the morning and deposit $500 onto my Visa. Nice, eh?!

Maybe when I go to the bank, I can get yelled at again by a handicapped man…

Grammar said he would be by tonight with cash. I have yet to see him. I called him. No response. I texted him. No response. I texted him again, and again, and again. No response. I am pissed off and so sorely disappointed.

I spent my day chasing around after snow tires. In good news, even with my coworker gone, it’s not overly busy this week, so I’m not trying to pull my own hair out at Hell. It gives me a bit of extra time to try to find tires for my stupid Focus. Who in hell puts an uncommon tire size on one of the most common cars in North America? They are 205 50 R16s. If they were 195 65 R15s or even 205 55 R16s, it wouldn’t be so bad. But they aren’t.

What I did learn today, through discussions with a woman who had fake bubble-gum pink nails covered in nail jewels (and a thick coating of tire carbon) is that tires are like bras.

I see you shaking your heads.

See, a 38B bra has the same cup size as a 36C. They are “sister” bras. The 38 means it’s got a wider band, but the cup is the same. In the same way, a 34A would be the same cup size as a 32B. Got it? Okay. So with tires… you can play with the sizing, a little bit.

So even though my Focus is a 205 50 R16, I can use 205 55 R16s without too much problem. The difference is 3.4%, which means what when I’m doing 100kph, I’m actually doing 103.4kph. Not a huge difference. OR – I can buy smaller rims and use 195 65 R15s. But that necessitates the purchase of new rims, as well. Either way, I’m not getting out of this for less than $600.

What makes me angry is the fact that I went to one tire store where the woman wanted to sell me a set for about $620. That’s not too bad, in the overall scheme of things. I figured what the hell, and I went to the tire place down the street, too. The guy there? He’s wearing a gold bracelet and a Rolex. First, he doesn’t even bother to ask if I know the tire size (I do). Then he tells me he can sell me some weird Michelin tire… four for $920 installed. I smiled and said thank you. He said, “you won’t find anything cheaper than that.”

You know what you just guaranteed? That I am never coming back here again. Don’t ever presume I’m stupid because I have tits and I compare tires to bras. And don’t try to rip me off for $300 either, jackass.

Anyway, I’m tired and fed up. CM wasn’t too bad, but the new kid is making me a bit crazy. He’s a good enough worker, but again, I have nothing in common with a 17-year old boy. Oh! And I got yelled at by a customer. She wanted one of our products, and it was on the floor with a sticker for $219.99. The problem is that the computer says it $279.99. There is no way in hell I was gonna make that call. In the end, I called AM2 and the customer hung up on her. We didn’t sell the product. *sigh*

It’s just one of those weeks.

I wrote the post below earlier today. Then when I came home tonight, I wrote The Characters (who’d I miss, Chicago?).

Now I’m writing my entry, sitting here sweating from doing four sets of cranks. It occurred to me on the way home from CM tonight that perhaps the reason that my mood has been faltering lately has little to do with my medication, and more to do with the fact that I haven’t been to the gym on a regular basis in about two months. I asked T. and Chicago and Pretty earlier today to keep an eye on my moods and let me know if they thought I was reverting to pre-May Blue.

I know I am, a bit. But I find it hard to believe that the pills would just stop working. And I feel a bit like a dork, going to the doctor less than a month after my last appointment and saying, “hey, by the way, I think my brain is broken again…”

But I’m tired all the time, and I’ve noticed the grumpiness has started to extend beyond an hour or two at a time. But then there are these things:

1. Christmas is coming and I’m broke. As usual.
2. I have a new boyfriend, but I’m (admittedly) afraid to feel for him.
3. Grammar still owes me money and hasn’t given me any in about a month. Long story, still in contact with him, but not happy.
4. I need snow tires. See point 1.
5. I haven’t been to the gym regularly in two months.
6. My sister wants me to buy a house with her, and I don’t want to hurt her feelings, but plan on telling her no.

But then there are these things:

1. Christmas is coming, and I love the holiday.
2. I have a new boyfriend who “basically” feels the same way I do.
3. Grammar is supposed to give me a cheque for the balance owing on my Visa.
4. Pretty has a new house and a new boyfriend who treats her well.
5. I’ve lost weight and had to go shopping to buy pants. I don’t fit – even remotely – in a 15/16 anymore.
6. The other half of my brain has come home to stay – willingly or unwillingly, she’s here.

So I’m trying to reason it all out in my head, and I’m not deadly concerned yet. But it is something I’m aware of.

Anyway, the cranks earlier did help. I wanted to do six sets, but stopped at four when I could feel my quads shaking during the squats. I think Indigo and I are going to go and read in bed for a bit. We’re trying to work our way through Samuel I and on to Samuel II.

I might’ve been born just plain white trash…
But Fancy was my name!

So what’s the deal with self-worth?

I don’t normally talk about other peoples’ lives in my blog, but today I’m going to break with tradition a bit and I hope that no one minds.

T. and I were eating subs on Sunday, in a scuzzy Subway in downtown Hammer. T. was discussing her future plans, and what she wants to do with her life, versus the path she’s taking now. She said that she was surprised that the company for whom she’s working was bending over backwards to accommodate the fact that she can’t live in the US for the next few years. I had told her that they would, of course, but she didn’t believe me… not until it happened. Not until they offered to get the $1000/hr lawyers involved to get her back across the border. Not until her bosses started managing the panic that resulted from the news that she wasn’t going back. Then, and only then, did she believe that they valued her as much as I’d said they did. Only when they started talking about flying up video-confrencing equipment and finding her an office…

Pretty and I went through a very similar experience this morning, which only goes to show that revealing your insecurities or secrets is sometimes a good thing. I mentioned to Pretty that I was a bit concerned that CB had a “thing” for her. I know, logically speaking, that he doesn’t. I’m the one he’s had a crush on since high school. I’m the one that he spends his time with. I’m the one who’s going to inherit his ATV and spend Christmas with him. But sometimes he brings up Pretty’s name or Pretty’s boyfriend’s last name (which I had totally forgotten), and I get that twinge of jealousy. I know better, in my head, I know better.

But I admitted to Pretty today that I needed someone to reassure me, and tell me that CB has a thing for me, not someone else. Not one of my dearest friends. And she did; she gave me the smack about the head that I needed. But then she admitted that she was nervous about introducing Farmer to me for fear he might develop a thing for ME. Clearly I’m not the only one with insecurities about my own self-worth.

AM2 freaked out a few months ago when the owner of the store came in and told the TheGuy and Rico that the store was a mess, and was this what happened when AM1 left?? The store went to the dogs? Of course, TheGuy told AM2 what the owner had said, and AM2 automatically (and justifiably) assumed it was a shot against her own management abilities. But when she called the owner to check on her comment and what she needed to improve upon, the owner laughed at her, and said that the comment had been intended for TheGuy and Rico, who needed to learn to pull their own weight. She wanted them ashamed, and she wanted them helping AM2, because she thought AM2 was working too hard and pushing herself too hard. Basically, she was doing TOO GOOD of a job and neeeded more support from her staff.

What is it with our inability to see our own self-worth? There has got to be a difference between being an egomaniac with an overinflated sense of self, and a shy wallflower with no sense of self-worth. Then again, I don’t think that T., Pretty, or AM2 are wallflowers. I think we’re strong, independent women with common sense. So why can’t we see our own value? Why do we assume that whatever we have that’s good, is only due to luck?

Why can’t T. see the value and the cost-savings and the security that she brings to her organization? Why can’t I overcome my jealousy and see that CB wants to be with me, likes being with me, might even LOVE being with me? When will Pretty learn that her own value doesn’t lie in the size of her hips? …. maybe that’s exactly why. Maybe because I can’t get over my jealousy, and maybe because Pretty can’t get over her weight issue… but what’s the deal then with AM2 and T.?

There has GOT to be more to it than that. Because we’re all intelligent, logical women, and we all know that we’re not without value and worth. So why do we forget / let ourselves get beat up about it? Why do we allow these insecurities any power over us at all?

I stayed in Dunnville last night. I went over with pork chops, potatoes, green beans, and sausage, and he decided he wanted to see what I could do with a pork chop on the barbecue. Uh, okay. Just because your mom can’t cook ‘em doesn’t mean no one else can. Anyway. I microwaved potatoes, boiled beans, and sauteed onions while he worked on his quad. Then I went out to grill the meat, only to find out that he had to run over to his brother’s place. I know that “I’ll be right back” doesn’t mean “I’ll be right back”, so I didn’t start the chops for fifteen minutes. Even then I had to text him to get him back to the house.

He likes my food. I guess the last one didn’t cook, or couldn’t cook, or whatever. I like to cook, and I like having someone to cook for. He went back out to the garage to finish working on his quad. I guess a good girlfriend would have gone along, but I didn’t. I stayed inside and read my book, curled up in a blanket on his couch. I went out to fetch him just as he was coming in.

CB decided not to go riding this morning, so we actually slept in a bit for once. And then… uh… yadda yadda, and I discovered that the boy likes having mirrors in his bedroom. I shall tell him to go ahead and take advantage of them next time. Doesn’t bother me any.

As we were on our way out, he decided my rear tire was almost flat (nuh-unh), and had me pull around to the garage, where he filled it, then looked at the tire, jacked it up, and had me feel the two bulges on it. Shit. I knew the tire on the other side was going, but now this one is, too? So I went to Walmart to look for snows, but they don’t carry my size. So I went to Canadian Tire, and they don’t carry them, either. So I’m going to make a few phonecalls tomorrow morning, and go from there. CB said he’s quite concerned about the tire, so I know I need to do something about it, but I’m not made of either time or money, quite frankly.

Pretty has been away all weekend with her Farmer. And then he was going back over there again, tonight. I’m a bit jealous. Not… no, jealousy isn’t right. I’m new to the dating thing, as much as I’d like to think I’ve been on enough first dates to last a lifetime, thank you. But our relationships are progressing at totally different speeds. And I’m not jealous, per se, but perhaps a bit envious that they spent an entire weekend together and then he went back over there again tonight.

But I can see T. shaking her head, and I can hear Pretty’s and Chicago’s voices, too. Each relationship is different. And my marriage was like that… (and in no way am I insinuating anything about Farmer here, because I’ve never met the guy) we were together all the time, because TheEx didn’t have friends of his own. Pretty and her ex weren’t really like that. So perhaps it’s just a case of the shoe being on the other foot. CB went to Guelph today with a friend, but I talked to him four times on the phone. So he had his things to do, and I had mine, and we did them separately, and there’s nothing wrong with that. I guess I’m just feeling a bit maudlin on a Sunday night (like that is unusual). A bit unloved, even though I’m not. Even though I know that CB cares for me a great deal, and he’s showing it in his own way.

T. came down to the laundromat and we had subs together for lunch. What a neat feeling, she’s just there, and then she’s just at the Subway, and then she just left, but I’m going to see her again this week. It’s such a neat, unique experience. Not unique, but not something I’ve experienced on a regular basis for two years. I like it! Coffee dates at Second Cup!

Anyway, I think I’m going to go to bed and read for a bit. I’m just not feeling particularly motivated tonight to do much of anything. I drove from Dunnville to Walmart to Canadian Tire to Pretty’s house, to the laundromat, to Pretty’s house, to the mall (to pick up my hemmed pants), and then home.

Tomorrow’s another day.

The nurse finally said doc’s ready for you
you’re not gonna feel a thing we’ll give you some novicane
That tooth will be fine in a minute or two
But he stuck that needle down deep in my gum
And he started drillin’ before I was numb

It’s 9:30 on a Saturday morning and I’ve already had two fillings put in by my dentist. They tell me his name is Dr.Paul, but it’s not. It’s something long and unpronouncable. But he’s a good guy, patient, quick, so we don’t mind. Call yourself whatever you want, dude.

Anyway, my face is still frozen. I talked to the receptionist on the way out and said that my hands were shaking. She said she gets the same thing; it’s from the epi in the freezing agent. She made a note on my file for me that perhaps next time they can just use a local instead of the shot because it makes me all edgy. He had to double-shoot me because he filled another cavity and the freezing wore off from the first one while he was drilling. It didn’t hurt, exactly, but what a unique feeling. Sort of like a tickling vibration in your tooth.

I spent last night at CB’s. I think I’m falling in love with him. The sex is getting better, he slowed down last night and paid attention to what I said. Then I messed it all up because all I could think about was the actual intercourse portion… but that shows he’s at least willing to listen and learn and I really appreciated that.

And…. he’s planning to go east next summer. And I can go along if I want. I was like, “Wha…?” Next summer? East? Trip? Uh…. Yeah! But you know what that means? He plans to be together next summer. I mean, why else would he say it? And then we were out in the garage, bleeding the brakes on the VW, and he got playing around with the quad just before we left. He said that it would one day be mine. Again, I was like, “Wha…?” Well, he doesn’t like the two-seater ones, so if I’m gonna go with him, he’ll have to get another one. And then his old one will be mine. Uh…. Outwardly I was calm. On the inside I was doing the Ugly Truth dance (you know, when Katherine Heigl jumps around like an idiot when she gets a date with the doc).

I told him that Pretty’s boyfriend brought her flowers. But he looked a little disconcerted, and I laughed and said that my boyfriend had fixed my headlight and my tail light, so it really kinda evened out. He laughed, too. Said that that’s how long he’s been out of the game, it didn’t even occur to him to buy flowers. I was just joking with him, because I can. We laugh about how “great” he is (the boy doesn’t suffer from a fragile ego), and he said last night, “you know I’m just joking, right?” But, you know, I do think he’s pretty fucking great.

Nap time. I’m cold, the epi’s making me a bit jittery, and I’m tired as hell. And… because I have nothing better to do today.

Fuck.

What a stupid day today has been. Hell was hell. I had a problem with a customer, who informed me he was going to send an angry email, which is fine. Warning is good. Then the guy in charge of that particular product basically told me to go fuck myself, he had no intention of helping me out. Whatever. It’s your fucking customer who isn’t gonna buy the product anymore, but sure, you just make it someone else’s problem and then you can wonder why no one likes you, asswipe.

I went out at lunch and returned a pair of pants and a shirt. Oh, I forgot to bring those other ones in… I exchanged two tops for larger sizes. I told that to the Teenager at work, and she said, “But you’re so tiny!” That was very nice to hear, but apparently I still don’t fit into a size medium at Suzy Shier. I have broad shoulders for a short chick.

Tomorrow I have to go to the mall to take back another pair of pants. I also have to get three pairs of pants hemmed, and I’m going to see if I can get two skirts altered. Then I have four pairs of pants in the wash that are “wearable” now, so that should give me plenty of work wear.

Tonight at CM, I had to call AM2 about five times. It just wasn’t my night. At all. Everything I did, I did wrong. You know those nights when you just can’t wait to get home so you stop being a danger to yourself and others? I’m surprised I didn’t get in a car accident on the way home.

I’ve folded up all my fat pants and I’m taking them to VV tomorrow, too. I’ve put anything that is a 15/16 into that bag. Hopefully if I get rid of them, I will never need them again. God, I hope. You should see all the hangers dangling freely in my closet, now.

I also cleaned up the counter, took the recycling out, bungeed up the garbage can again, cleaned the bathroom, and bagged up all my old lingerie to go into the garbage (because no one - and I mean no one  – should buy used lingerie, ever). Oh, and I sorted the laundry. I’m trying to decide if it’s time to wash my sheets. What with going down to Grandpa’s, and staying at CB’s a few nights, I can’t remember how many nights I’ve slept on the damned things.

I was going to paint my nails, but I think I’ve accomplished enough. I’m going to read for a bit, and go to bed. Or play Farkle. Either way, it won’t involve thinking…

Now I’m eating pickles and drinking OJ. It’s not so great a combination. CB called, he still isn’t feeling well and has spent most of his day asleep. It’s probably better for him. . . It sounds like he goes through periods like Mom where he can function on four hours’ sleep a night, and then it suddenly catches up with him. That’s okay, I’m off all weekend.

This is my home…

Today was an interesting day. Hell was no fun – I had stupid thing after stupid thing to take care of… you know, once you get the routine stuff done after you’ve been out of the office for a few days, you have to turn your attention to the other crap that doesn’t require an immediate response but also won’t go away. My afternoon was spent taking care of that type of stuff. At one point, my lips were all chapped from me pursing them and frowning, so I applied some lip balm. It’s some stuff that T. picked up for me, and I suddenly realized that putting on lavender-scented lip balm was probably one of the smartest things I could have done. I just sat for a minute, breathing in the scent, breathing out, and feeling the tension dissipate from my shoulders.

T. stopped by at around 11:30 and dropped off some paperwork for me. Turns out she’ll be back next week and doesn’t need me to run an errand for her, but we weren’t sure. So she brought paperwork, a gift certificate, and pastries. Ah, pastries. If you don’t have a friend who brings you pastries in the middle of the day, then you need one. Because let me tell you, my pastries disappeared in about half an hour flat.

Grandpa asked me to set up an email address for him when I was in VA. I did so, and left him instructions on how to access it and showed him how to create a message. Well, apparently he still had some trouble. So when T. arrived at Hell today, I was in the midst of creating an Adobe file complete with screenshots on how to access his Verizon webmail and send a message. Then he still couldn’t get it to work tonight. So when I got home, I looked up his email account again. He’d saved it to his Drafts folder. So after I figured out how to get back into the damn draft, I sent it to myself and then called him. It sounds like he was unaware that sending the message meant that a copy would automatically be saved in his Sent Items folder, so at no point did he need to hit save. Anyway, I think I have him straightened out now, and I sent him an email to reiterate that point, as well.

I told him via email that perhaps Pretty and I would come down in the Spring, visit the historical sites and maybe the beach. In his email, he said he thought that was a great idea and we were more than welcome to do so. He encouraged it. Then when I was talking to him on the phone, he said that again. That’s good to know. I bet come March or April, Virginia is gonna look pretty damn good…

I also confirmed that a car accident that Dad & Mom and I saw on the way out of VA was indeed my new grandma’s grandson. Grandpa said that everyone was okay, aside from a few airbag burns. It’s still upsetting to hear, but as long as everyone is all right. He also gave me the name of one of my cousins, spelled correctly, so I’ve looked her up on Facebook like I said I would and sent her a friend request. She seemed lovely.

Sis and Dad and AM2 were having a war of words about my status update on FB today. All I said was that even though you might have 100 or 200 friends, it’s always the same ten or twenty who scroll through your news feed. It turned into a conversation about who my top ten friends were, though I’m not really sure how or why. I told Dad that of course he was my number one. The conversation went back and forth several times and came out with these gems -

from Dad:

Blue’s universe exists on many planes. There may be any number of ones and twos which may fall ahead of or behind tens or twenties on another level.

from Sis (this is true, FYI):

She culls the herd; she was telling me that she routinely deletes people who don’t post anything, comment on anything or in general exhibit far less addiction than the rest of us. She likely floats above that crucial 82 often, but if you don’t make the grade, you’re gone…. I wonder if the 82 shall become 20??

from AM2:

Her level of deep meaningful facebook relationships is scary, perhaps it is she who has the issue and not them…

from Sis:

She loves who she loves and she loves ‘em dearly; should we all be lucky enough to care half as much for half as many

I thought that was really sweet. Do you think now is the time to tell her that I don’t plan on getting involved in her “buy a house with me” plans? Or should I wait a few days?

(did you notice that not once in this blog posting – until now – did I mention CB? Pretty proud of myself, eh!)

I think I love you so what am I so afraid of
I’m afraid that I’m not sure of a love there is no cure for
I think I love you isn’t that what life is made of
…..
I don’t know what I’m up against
I don’t know what it’s all about
I got so much to think about

So yeah. I spent last night with CB. Before I left, he’d had two beers, four tokes, and a quarter pound of bacon. Then when found out I’d eaten bread and some cheese for dinner, he offered to cook me a burger. *sigh*

And on my way home, I got to thinking. I got to thinking about how much I enjoy spending time with him. How much I enjoy being special to someone. How much I really like that someone else is thinking of me when I’m thinking of them. And then how completely and utterly fucking scared I was that it was possible that perhaps he doesn’t feel this way about me, he’s never going to feel this way about me, and what if he’s another TheEx, and I end up having to take care of him? Or what if he’s like TheGiant, and he decides that a relationship isn’t in his best interest? Or what if he’s like Mud, and decides that he can’t care for me for fear it might change his precious little world?

And so I started going a bit mental, driving back to B-town. As I passed through Binbrook, I updated my FB status (illegally) from my ‘berry. I posted, “Blue has had a hell of a night and has more questions than answers.” Within five minutes, CB had sent me a FB email and asked, “Do you have any questions for me?” Now, let’s put it in perspective. The guy practically never, ever comments on my status. EVER. Let alone sends me FB emails. So feeling it was almost a sign from God, and being a bit angry and frustrated (because we all know that’s when I do my best thinking) I told him. I sure told him.

I said, “Hmm, that depends on whether or not you want to hear that I might be falling in love with you and I don’t know what the hell to do about it.” He replied less than a minute later. “I wish I wasn’t so darm [sic] ripped so I could think…. but I’m smiling.” I called Pretty from a stop overlooking the city, and she told me to stop being such a dunderhead and realize that CB is not TheEx or TheGiant or Mud, and that he was smiling, meaning he was happy about it.

Tonight, I brought it up just before he left, commenting that I was surprised he’d answered my status update, since he never did. He said he’d been in a weird mood. “And I didn’t know what to say, but I was smiling. I basically feel the same way. But I’m not good at saying it, I guess. But… I think I just did.” Or something to that effect. It was very sweet…. until he started talking about his exgirlfriends. I brought up that I was afraid of getting hurt, and he said he thought we all were. And then he started talking about how his exes had hurt him. In hindsight, that’s basically what I was going to do, so I suppose I can’t really complain. I was going to tell him that TheGiant went back to his wife and Mud stomped on my heart and TheEx was a baby… so he just beat me to it. And who needs to one-up the other when you’re talking about getting hurt?

Someone at work said today that his homework was going home and making his marriage last. He was joking around, but I think it’s true. Unless we do go home and invest that time in making it work… well, how do we expect it to last? I just need to be careful that I’m not the only one studying while my partner goofs off, I guess, but so far, CB seems to be holding up his end of the bargain. Pretty and Chicago are both still rooting for him, so perhaps I should just let go and let it happen. Let myself fall in love with this guy, and see where it goes from there.