Thursday, December 31, 2009

auld lang syne & all that shiz

My first "Bah, Humbug!" of the season goes out to NYE. I'm just not enthused about it this year. I will observe it as a passage of time and a click on the dial to another year. I just don't want to DO anything.

I don't want to drink beer or champagne. I don't want to go to a rowdy house party or even a glittery soiree. I don't want to wear funny hats or chant a countdown. For some reason I don't really even want to be around people. I am content to hole up in my spinster pad and wear sweatpants and eat ice cream or maybe even fall asleep early.

(Don't judge me. I rather enjoy nights like that.)

I don't know what it is. Maybe the magic is gone. Maybe I'm just exhausted. Maybe somewhere in my head I've turned it into a couples holiday, and since I've never had anyone to kiss at midnight, what's the point? The allure is gone and this year I just don't care. I don't caaaaaaare.

I could always watch my alma mater play in their bowl game, but I don't have cable, so I'd have to, ya know, go be around people. Besides, we'll probably lose anyway. (Hey, we invented rice krispie bars and peanut butter and computers. We don't NEED to have a good football team, mmkay?)

Anywho - for those of you that decide to be less loserly than me, have a wonderful time, and be safe out there in the madness. It's a full moon tonight, you know.

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

An Exercise in Futility

New Year's resolutions are stupid.

Just a bunch of shiny ideas that never get accomplished. Yet I can't really seem to stop myself from MAKING the damn things. So, since it's going to be inevitable, here we are.

Except they're not going to be things like "lose 30 pounds" and "eat healthy" and "exercise more" (notice how all those are related?) - because I'm doomed to fail from Day 1. I'm not going to lie to myself. I do need to lose a lot of weight. But I love food. I hate exercise. I was actually doing fairly well until the Holidays struck. And perhaps I will again. But I'm not going to chain myself to the idea.

Instead, I am going to do things like call my grandparents more. Take weekend trips and visit my parents more. Cross things off my list. Take more pictures. Have more fun. Clean out my closet and get rid of the shit that doesn't fit. Take a vacation (if even a day) and stay off the Internet (or at the very least, not check my work email). Go see the movies I want to see. Even if it costs me $7 to do so. Learn to say no. Alternately, learn to say yes. Don't run away from the awkward, because sometimes it is necessary. Even out my sleep schedule. Be (more) on time for work. Quit hiding in my apartment. Eat out less and cook more. Fix the things about myself that bother me. Smile - things are all right.

And, you know. Unpack those last few boxes from when I moved last July. (DON'T LAUGH, I'M TOTALLY GONNA DO IT.)

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

For Someone Else

I am not one of the world's greatest bloggers. I am barely more than a speck in the whole grand scheme of things and I am well aware that there is only a small handful of people that even read this. I get starstruck by bloggers who are wittier and more eloquent than I am; who have handfuls of supportive readers-turned-friends that they've never even met. I am envious of the prettier blogs and the well-read blogs and yet at the end of the day I am content to sit in my own corner of the world and just write whatever I want because it's therapeutic for me, and I don't give a damn if nobody reads it. In fact, sometimes it's better if they don't. Because then people know things about me, and I feel vulnerable and exposed. I rarely make any sense at all and I whine about insignificant things like how I'm cranky today because I didn't sleep well last night and I not-slept through my first few snooze cycles and didn't have time to shower today and my ass still hurts from where I fell on the ice two days ago, or about boys that refuse to feel the things I feel, or my dangerously low bank accounts.

But today I am going to write about something else. Actually I'm not going to write at all. I am going to loan my space to someone else. Because there is one of those awesome bloggers out there who needs the words and the space and the support more than I do. Her name is Brandy and I only recently found her blog and even then it was mostly because a lot of the other new blogs that I have discovered and fallen in love with, have been posting this. Curious, I finally went to her blog and was immediately charmed by it. And my heart hurt that her heart hurt, so bandwagon-jumping it may be, but... this is what I want to share today. If it bothers you, I promise I will be back to bitching about stupid shit tomorrow.


My name is Brandy. And I have a blog.

And a plea.

I use my blog to showcase the crazy I meet everyday, share the stories of the kids I teach and document my love for tequila, dairy products and the abdominal muscles of Ryan Reynolds. Rarely do I talk about personal issues on my blog- as personal as the dude that I adore (who I actually met through my blog- single ladies, let that be a very good reason to blog, the possibility of meeting someone as wonderful as my man), but I need your help. And it involves my dude.

He’s a guy who made math comics for my class, so they would love learning about addition. He’s the kinda guy who sends my friends gift cards when they are having hard times, who remembers every story I ever told him, who was the first person I celebrated with when I got a teaching job. He’s the guy who sent flowers to me at school- dozens of my favourite pink roses just because he loves me. He’s a guy who has spent a year patiently explaining (and re-explaining) everything there is to know about football during the important games when silence is preferred. He’s made me word puzzles and comics and stayed up late playing Scrabble with me (even though I beat him almost every time). He’s listened to me cry about school and family and jobs. He is everything I never knew I needed and everything I always knew I wanted.

The holidays have hit us hard. He’s recently been told he may have something called multiple myeloma- an incurable cancer, that gives a person an average of five years of continued life. Though this news has came as a shock, he continues to be exactly who has always been- spending his time worrying about me, rather than worrying about himself. He’s the most selfless individual I know- (he stayed late on Christmas Eve to work, so his co-workers could leave early) and a post like this would never be something that he would promote or encourage but when I’m overwhelmed and feeling helpless, the blogging community has always given me tremendous support and comfort, two things I desperately need at this time.

As I write this, the future is uncertain and we aren’t sure what’s happening. He’ll need to see an oncologist soon, to verify what’s going on in his body. My hope is that everyone who reads this think positive thoughts and if you are a person who prays, could you add him to your list? (You can refer to him as ‘brandy’s hot awesome dude’). If you don’t pray, please keep him in your heart.This cancer is only a possibility and I believe that the prayers and positive thoughts of people can make sure it never becomes a reality.

I want to give a big thank you to the blog owner who scraped their original blog plans and graciously put this up. My goal is to get as many people as possible to see and read this post. If you are reading this and want to help, copy and paste my plea into your blog or send a link through twitter, so more people can keep him in their thoughts. I would be so very grateful (even more grateful than I am to my friend who first showed me the picture of Ryan Reynolds on the cover of Entertainment Weekly. If you haven’t seen it, google it. You. Are. Welcome).

I realize this all sounds dramatic, a Lifetime movie in the making- but this is life. Right now. And I’m throwing away any hint of ego and am humbly asking for you to pray or think kind thoughts. If you are able to pass this on, thank you and if you know anything regarding MM- please email me (my email is on my blog). This isn’t a call for sympathy or a plea for pity. It’s just one girl hoping you can think positive thoughts for the person she adores. If my current heartache provides you with anything, let it be with the reminder that life is short, love is unbending and no one knows what could happen next. Maybe it is silly, but I really do believe that positive thoughts can make a huge difference. Thank you for reading this and if you haven’t already? Please tell someone you love them today.

I did.

Monday, December 28, 2009

Christmas: Epilogue

This post-holiday Monday is a bit more painful than I thought it would be (and not just because I fell on the ice on my front stairs last night and bruised my ass) - I am having a really, really hard time getting jump-started after 3.5 days of doing absolutely nothing but eating, drinking, watching movies, and playing Super Mario on my sister's Wii.

Lest you all be concerned, I did make it home for Christmas. The weather forecast was obviously very iffy for pretty much all of last week... Christmas Eve rolled around and I'd resigned myself to being stuck until at least the weekend. But, as luck would have it, Thursday was just a rainy day and so at the urging of my coworkers (and a phone call to one who had already departed for Minnesota), I decided to make a break for it while I still could. As it turns out, this was a good plan. I got up to my dad's safe and sound and the weather for the next two days was absolutely shit-tastic and I would not have probably been able to go anywhere if I'd wanted to.

I didn't get to see my maternal grandparents nor did I get a chance to head down to visit my mother, but! there is time to reschedule that which was missed.

And now I am back to the grindstone and very sleepy and marginally cranky but all in all, it was a great weekend. Bonus? I always forget about New Year's so this week is short too. TWO LONG WEEKENDS IN A ROW. Be still, my heart.


Ridiculous holiday headwear FTW.

Friday, December 25, 2009

I Wonder How Many Times I Can Accidentally Swear In A Christmas-Themed Post

No, I'm not blogging on Christmas day, you assholes.* I scheduled a post so it would do it FOR me. Because I'm pretty awesome like that.

*Though I COULD be, given the shit weather we got handed. Boo.

Side note: I totally title my posts AFTER I write them. I had no idea I could be so vulgar on such a sacred, sentimental holiday. But you did, didn't you. We all know how I am. Sigh.


It's A Wonderful Life is pretty much the greatest Christmas movie of all time. Shit, it's probably one of the greatest movies of all time. (The American Film Institute insists on keeping Citizen Kane at the top of their BEST 100 MOVIES EVAR! list, and you know what? I've seen it. It was okay.)

They don't make movies like this anymore. It's funny and tragic and hopeful and lovely and it makes me bawl like a schoolgirl.

Especially this scene:

I also love the romance between George and Mary. It's sickeningly sweet and perfect and dammit that's what I want. I want my George Bailey.

George: What is it you want, Mary? What do you want? You want the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down. Hey... that's a pretty good idea. I'll give you the moon, Mary.

Mary: I'll take it.

Damn. I loves me some old-fashioned romance.

Anyway. What I would like to leave you with, and which probably could have been the sole bit to this post:

"Remember, no man is a failure who has friends."

At the risk of sounding absurdly sappy - thanks for all the love and support this year (and in the past, and in the future). The friends I have now, the friends I have yet to make - they are really what make my life worthwhile and what has saved my ass from the horrible grips of depression and misery that an otherwise empty, lonely life could have been. I owe you guys more than you'll ever know.

Merry Christmas.

Thursday, December 24, 2009

You Win Some, You Lose Some

This is awesome:

This is not awesome:

That's a lot of blue & purple I've gotta get through to get to where I need to be :(

"Travel Not Advised."

That's right, kids. Looks like I'll be spending Christmas in A-Town. On the bright side, I have had so many people offer to have me over so I'm not by myself, that I almost cried. Because I am weak and emotional these days. When did I become such a girl? ugh.

BUT! Both Grandmas postponed Christmas (because grandmothers have the power to do this, you know) so I won't be missing much. I am hoping I can head up Saturday yet so I don't miss the whole holiday weekend. Fingers crossed.

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

In Which I Blather Incoherently About The Same Shit As Always

It's been a while since we've had some proper angst on the Kelly Channel so I thought I would bring you fine people some snippets of melodrama to tide you over until I have something worthwhile to say. Or more cookie stories. Whichever.

It's going to be a little disjointed. Because I've been composing little drafts here and there of things I want to say, and my emotional circuit is apparently confused.

I'd like to blame the holidays and the snow and the lights and the fact that every single fucking person I know seems to be wrapped up in some sort of lovey-dovey vomit-inducing relationship of sorts (the stuff that usually sets me off) but you know what? I don't, because I don't care. I've weighed these options and realized the only thing that is angsting me is my own stupid, somewhat masochistic feelings. And the fact that "letting go" and "giving up" are two completely different ideas and yet they sort of mean the same damn thing, and while I am okay with the concept of letting go, it is not in my nature to give up.

I've always been able to get what I want. Through sheer luck, hard work, or solid determination, victory is always mine. (okay, okay, sometimes this has involved changing the definition of what I want, but the point still stands). You know why? Because life is too short to settle.

This is pretty much the motto I've embraced since I was old enough to start setting any sort of goals or ambitions. Even when I was little, although my desires were obviously much simpler. If there is something I want, it's mine. (Unfortunately, this also applies to shopping... hence the credit card debt I have acquired. Heh.) Not to say that I've had a fantastically charmed life, by any means, but when it's the things that I think really count, those are the ones I really pushed myself for. Things never got handed to me... and I think I am better off for it, even if I had always wished otherwise. I was the best at damn near everything in high school, I pushed my way through a bitchly hard design program in college, I never stopped to tell myself no. Because why would I? Limitations were for other people. I only got to have one life, and I was going to see to it that it was orchestrated exactly the way I wanted it, the first time. When I am all said and done, I will have no regrets.

What is your point, I know you are asking. Shut up and get off your ego trip, already. You're getting it all wrong, and it is my fault because I am saying it all wrong. Most of my never-say-die ambition in the past was due to a horrible, raging perfectionism and a paralyzing fear of failure. After I got to the point where I made it past all the trivial things and realized that, hey, this is my life, and I am living it for real, my focuses switched less from personal achievements to more of an abstract desire to put all the pieces together in order to make myself happy. It's much simpler now. I don't need titles and awards and good grades and shiny material things. (Although, don't get me wrong, I still have an ego that needs stroked, and I welcome all of these things with open arms). The things I want now are more abstract and intangible and I don't have any good examples so you'll just have to take my word for it.

The whole point I am circling back to, is, the one area of my life I have not been able to control as tightly and as efficiently as everything else, is that of my love life. Which is inappropriately named because it implies that it exists. Which it does not.

I've got options, I realize this, as evidenced by the random boys coming out of the woodwork that have been causing me great frustration and a whole other type of angst. If I wanted any of them, I could have them. I'm not trying to be cocky, I am just simply stating a fact. There is one of my exes that I could simply snap my fingers and he would come running and fall all over himself in love with me if I even indicated that I was remotely interested. (Whenever this occurs to me, I have to remind myself that I am not, in fact, a bitch, and torturing the poor boy would not be nearly as fun as it sounds, because, inevitably, there would be Guilt.) And even with past flings and romances, I always got what I wanted, to a degree - even if it's, say, a drunken makeout session rather than an actual quasi-committed relationship. I succeeded in so far as to at least get the object of my attention to give me any sorts of the attention that I craved in return. So in my mind, it totally counted.

But, what I want, right now, is not the temporary affections of a mildly intriguing fling. I want something more real than that, and, unfortunately, I want someone very specific, who is not, in fact, cooperating. I have gotten myself convinced that this is the only thing I want right now (so those other poor boys can just give up and hit the road, because they're not even a blip on my radar) and these stupid feelings have been hanging around for so long and are so unnervingly present all the goddamn time that I couldn't untangle myself if I wanted to. Which, to be honest, I don't really want to. Because even if they are wasted, they are still real.

I've made several unsuccessful choices in the past... and even if I let it knock me down or send me to the bottom of a pint of ice cream, deep down, I always know that's where they were headed. There was always a defining moment where suddenly my intuition would kick the side of my brain and scream, this isn't going to work. I always ignored it, of course, because listening would mean an active choice of being alone, and who wants that? A shitty relationship is better than no relationship, right? (Wrong. That was another thing I have since learned). The difference right now is that both my head and my heart seem to be in agreement, and so who I am I to argue?

The truth is, though... I don't know how to play this game. Maybe if I did, I'd be having better luck in changing his mind. My only strategy right now is to lick my wounds in private and try not to make a huge ass of myself, even though I'm pretty sure it's not a secret, to anyone, anymore. C'est la vie. Just because I want something doesn't mean I can have it. Even if that contradicts the past 25 years of me forcing it to be otherwise.

So it's hard for me to accept that something I have come to believe in, is falling further and further out of reach, and I'm faced with the only option of Giving Up. I don't know why that seems so scary to me. It really isn't. I've been telling myself to do so since this summer. I have a bad habit of not listening to myself.

But dammit. It sucks so hard because I positively adore this boy and it's such a hopeless, hopeless situation. I am resigned to be the tragic heroine in my own fucked up little love story, the pathetic girl who follows around the boy that doesn't feel the same way.

So much for keeping to short blog posts, eh?

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

"You're Gonna Make It After All..."

Long drives always drive me crazy. I barely made it home on time Saturday night before my brain got too full and exploded.

I then promptly scribbled a bunch of thoughts onto some paper and fell asleep. (It was 7:30. pm. Yes, I am lame). I am going to proceed with trying to turn those into coherent thoughts and post them as such. I am also going to try to write shorter posts, because, ohmygod, have you tried to read some of my older stuff? It's loooong. (Hi, my name is Captain Obvious.) Which, ya know. Was necessary at the time, cause I had lots to say. But it makes it hard for me to go back and re-read things because I just start to glaze over.

Anyway. Why was I making an absurd cross-state trip just mere days before Christmas when I would have to do it all over again? Well, my little sis was having her (first) college graduation ceremony and of course I was going to go. Even though we'll have to do it all over again in May when she completes her Master's program and has another one. (yeah, yeah - she may be going to get her Master's degree, but I went to a bigger school, so I'm calling it a draw on the sibling-rivalry-one-upmanship-scale.)

What's weird is, I didn't even think about my own graduation much (obviously, some, it is inevitable in that setting) until I was pulling into town and all of seven blocks from my apartment. It's been three years. Three years I've been out in the big, scary Real World... and you know what? I am holding my own. I don't know why this revelation always amazes me, but it does. I did it. I made it.

(Every once in a while I get that cheesy Mary Tyler Moore Show theme song in my head. Cause I feel as though somehow it applies to me, too.)

I may not have a "life plan" yet, maybe I never will, but I am feeling good about that. It's kind of liberating - everything I DID have planned, I achieved, and with my usual perfectionistic flair. Now? Who cares! I can take whatever comes my way and I am not tied down to any preconceived notions of what my life should look like. Because, in all actuality, I am exactly where I want to be. I'll figure out the rest later.

Monday, December 21, 2009

Today Sucks. I'm Going Back to Bed. Again.

This is where I get really grouchy. For a couple reasons.

1. I had to stay home sick from work today. Normally I can flop back into bed, grab a couple extra hours of sleep, and be fine. I kept delaying the inevitable until I finally just threw in the towel around noon and called it a day. I have at least gone from an all-over blah to a concentrated pain and suffering level situated somewhere in my left sinus cavity, but that in itself is pretty useless knowledge because I don't know how to FIX it. Also, I get really crabby about missing work. I also get really crabby about being sick. Especially once I reach the point where I am moderately functional again and have time to dwell on the fact that I feel like shit.

2. We're supposed to get ANOTHER fucking blizzard this week - I am hearing another 15" of snow, hoo-fucking-ray... and it's supposed to hit therabouts on Wednesday/Thursday. Thursday being Christmas Eve. Meaning, I might not be able to go home for Christmas. This will then be the first Christmas I have missed spending with my family in 25 years. I am 24-0 at Christmas. Fuck you, 2009. Can't you wait until, like, New Year's Eve or something when I don't have to go anywhere?


Also I wrote up a few posts yesterday while I wasn't dead and scheduled them so if you see non-irritable posts in the next couple days, it's because I wrote them while in a much better mood. Hey, I am TRYING to not bombard you with posts or long posts or lots of posts. You're welcome.

EDIT 12/22: SuckWeek continues - today my back tire is flat. Fucking bloody hell fuckers. I hate winter.

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Extreme Home Makeover, Blog Edition

If you're reading this from the web and not from a generic reader, you may have noticed that this blog looks TOTALLY DIFFERENT now. (If you ARE reading it from a reader, this is the point where you get your ass to my page so you can seeeeeee it). I liked my template, mostly, but it was generic and I was bored with it and so I'm like, "what if I just change the color?" and so, whilst consulting with a couple of my web-savvy friends along the way, I managed to find, update, upload, and edit the photos in my code to make it more... custom.

In case you are still in your damn reader, or had no idea how it looked before, allow me to present to you: a visual.


After. Obviously. Since that's what it looks like *rightnow*

See, I'm not COMPLETELY webtarded, as I previously thought.

In fact, I am pretty much awesome. Sometimes.

Thoughts? Feedback? We likes? We don't likes? Let me know. If it makes your eyes bleed I will change it back to the defaults. Maybe.

EDIT: The intensity of the blue was distracting. So I toned it back quite a bit. In case anyone cares. If not.... then.... as you were.

Friday, December 18, 2009

And This Is Why I Drink.

This is not the angsty blog post I promised. Well, I mean, it might be. I haven't really started yet. This is more of a general bitchfest. And yes, there is a difference.

Part I.

I am so fucking sick and tired of being the mothereffing mediator in my family. Especially when my mother flips her shit and starts screaming and raving about how my dad is this spineless asshole who ruined her life and bladdy bladdy blah. Seriously. You've been divorced, what, ten years now? Stop dragging him through the mud and let it go, and for the love of all that is holy, quit pretending the two of you are besties whenever you're not currently pissed to high hell about something he may or may not have done to serve you whatever perceived injustice you've got your panties in a twist about now.

Cause frankly? He's less crazy than you. And you make me want to reach for my xanax. The stuff I save for special occasions.

And for the love of Jesus, please be civil for my sister's college graduation this weekend or I swear to all that is holy, I will get stabbier than I've ever been. Don't ruin shit for her just because you're riding first-class on the Crazy Train.

Part II.

I have had some issues with the Other Neighbor. Not the neighbors that I share an entryway with, the ones that I know and like, but the one around back whose name I think I may have heard but who has gentleman friends over that talk loudly out on their cellphones at midnight on her deck and the (same) one who is apparently unaware that this is a no-smoking building AND that marijuana is, in fact, illegal and that no amount of incense is fooling the rest of us.

I randomly woke up in the middle of the night on Wednesday (Thursday, technically, I SUPPOSE) and my entire bedroom was permeated with the lovely fragrance of Special Smoke. Now, I'm going to lose a lot of street cred here because I don't really actually know what pot smells like, but I do know what cigarette smoke smells like, and I have been to my fair share of rock concerts. And I have awesome deductive reasoning skills.

Anyway, it was horrible, and I had a hard time falling back asleep, which, if you know me, should say something, because I am nothing if not a world class champion sleeper. I debated sleeping on my futon out in the other room but that would have just resulted in me being even crabbier, and besides, I shouldn't have to, just because that bitch was trying to asphyxiate me. My stubbornness? Not particularly a virtue, most days. Then I got hungry and went and ate a turkey sandwich (contact high munchies, maybe?) and then I finally fell back asleep. And was grouchy. And drafted an email to my landlord, which I was smart enough to proofread in the morning before sending, and I told my friend that lives downstairs, so she didn't think I was an epic snitch (this is NOT the first time this issue has come up, although it was the Actual Neighbors who brought it up the first time, and she freely admitted to it)... and she was like, "yeah, the incense has been bad lately" and I'm like, "honey, I am pretty sure that it wasn't incense this time" and she's like, "oh. well, shit." and the landlord (who is fucking awesomesocks) was all, I'm on it. So, if she does it again, she's probably gone, and I'd probably feel bad, except YOU DO NOT INTERFERE WITH MY SLEEP WITHOUT REAPING THE CONSEQUENCES and, also? Smoking (anything) is gross.

Part III.

I owe some poor boys some formal rejections. I'm quite guilty of the fade-away-and-run-fast maneuver and one of the boys I've recently pulled it upon just totally didn't deserve it, and the other one? the arrogant emotional-assault-bag? Well, I should probably come clean so he quits messaging me. I'm at a loss for what to say and I might just take my friend's advice and "borrow" from my rather eloquent rejection from this past summer. I am sure the guy who wrote it wouldn't mind, obviously he's not going to know, but if he did, maybe he would be amused. I'd like to think so, anyway. Plus the whole idea of it is kinda funny. In a really twisted sorta way. But, yeah. If I don't report back on the matter soon, e-kick me in the shin cause I totally deserve it. Except I'd totally be a huger bitch if I did it around Christmas so maybe I should try to get to it this weekend. Otherwise I'm obviously going to have to wait.

Part IV.

The holidays are stressing me out. Like, hardcore. I know, I know - you're all, "join the club" EXCEPT I don't usually get stressed out. I usually enjoy the holidays. BUT. Guess what. Being poor has once again ruined my goddamn life. Christmas is expensive. Even if I didn't buy presents, there are still cards and cookies and traveling and I may as well just call all the people that sent me bills this month and apologize in advance. Or maybe I should apologize to my bank. Except they don't care, because they make lots of money on my overdraft fees. AND I don't have time to donate plasma right now and I neeeed the extra money. Dear 2010: please don't suck, financially. Or I will find your metaphorical groin and kick it as hard as I possibly can.

Part V.

I am failing, guys. My hardcore determination to eat well and exercise and try to be thin is... faltering. I'm gonna go ahead and blame the holidays cause DAMMIT THERE ARE COOKIES EVERYWHERE AND IT'S MY OWN FAULT BECAUSE I BROUGHT THEM INTO CREATION and I don't take care of myself and then I get tired and exhausted and have no energy, not even to do my damn 10-minute Pilates (although I always allow 30 mins because I do 3 of them). And my calorie counting? heh. I've fucked that up so hard it needs a post-coital cigarette. I think... I might just give up and try again AFTER the holidays are over. Besides, I am at least feeling appropriately guilty when I consume something with lots of calories, so I am sorta training my brain. I'll get there. Maybe.


Thursday, December 17, 2009

Cookiethon II: Revenge of the Cocoa

I swear I am not going to turn this into a baking blog (because that would limit my subject matter entirely too much, and it's hard to drop therapeutic f-bombs when you're talking about cookies. Unless of course you happen to be near my kitchen while I try new recipes. In which case... nevermind.)

I am working on a real (and if we're lucky, angsty) post but right now my head is rather shoved into my ass so it's more incoherent than usual AND I should be wrapping Christmas presents AND I should be doing my Christmas cards, but, I don't wanna, so, anyway, I am going to share my latest cooking adventure with you. So there.

Monday night's endeavor was a batch of chocolately cherry cookies. Unlike the sugar cookies, these were not some time-honored family recipe. They are out of a magazine I bought in line at the grocery store while buying powdered sugar for said sugar cookies cause I effed up the frosting. They looked super easy and kind of interesting so I figured, what the hell? Tis the season to bake and give shit away so it doesn't all land on my ass, so, Operation New Recipe began.

Well, first off, the batter is really bitchy. Like, I don't even know. Cocoa powder? Apparently really freaking messy. It just poofs everywhere and leaves a chocolately residue which you THINK sounds like a good thing but it's not. And then trying to mix it up was a challenge cause I could hear my poor trusty Kitchen-Aid handheld mixer practically huffing and puffing (like I do after I try to run more than, say, a block) because the mixture is incredibly bitchly thick.

Once I got through that, I figured it was a piece of cake (no baking pun intended) from there.

Then... the frosting. Oh, God, the frosting.

I apparently can't read directions... or something. Every single recipe I've ever made that involves chocolate chips uses the whole damn bag. So I dump it into a saucepan, dump on the condensed milk, and wait for it to melt. And wait and wait. And then a little lightbulb goes off in my head and I peer back at my propped open magazine... I was supposed to use HALF the bag and HALF the can of condensed milk. Oops. Now, this would be no big deal... except it made an unholy amount of frosting. It would be wasteful to throw it out. So, I kind of backed myself into a corner of making another batch. No biggie, I had the stuff.

Batter went better the second time around. First batch baked. Wasn't sure how to tell if they were done. The time given was insufficient, I can tell you that much. The amount of icing I ended up with? Yeah pretty much would have been enough for eight batches. Makes me wonder how much I would have ended up had I actually bothered to pay attention to the recipe.

Anyway I ran out of cherries so I couldn't make a third, fourth, or seventh batch. That, and I should probably place a moratorium on baking until I (a) get rid of some of this stuff or (b) find more containers. I don't even know where to PUT anything.

That being said, here are my photos from the Almost Fail Cookies (tm) and this recent baking experience.

Turd balls on a sheet.

Cherry pockets.

Mmm, frosting. Way. Too. Much. Frosting.

They tasted all right. Not earth-shattering awesome, but acceptably delicious.*

Oops. This guy is a little exposed.

This is how much frosting I used for only two batches.
I was being very generous with the second batch, at that.
Also: I still haven't changed my stove clock since daylight savings time. Oops.

*EDIT: after they fully cooled down, these were really fucking tasty. Just so you know. I'd give you the recipe but then I'd have to get up and go look for it. So maybe another time.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

I Think It Might Be Blaspheming To Call This a Christmas Miracle, But I Might Anyway


I haven't had snowboots since I was a kid. They were accompanied by snowpants. Which I hated. You know what else I hate? The smell of wet snowpants when all the kiddies come in from recess. It's a wretched, wretched smell. I even hated it when I was a kid, which I think is probably weird.

Anyway. I ordered them after Snowmageddon #1 and then it snowed a lot again and I continued to wear my damn sparkly ballet flats because I am a moron and I do own other shoes but sometimes I am too lazy to tie things in the morning, OKAY, so it wasn't a problem except that I had to chisel a sheet of ice off my car this morning and it was a hundred degrees below zero (approximately) and I was actually lamenting my lack of gloves more than my inappropriate footwear, but tonight when I was driving home from belt testing (which I actually feel good about, we shall see) I was like "dammit my Snowboots better be on my porch when I get home" but of course that was ridiculous because I just ordered them on Friday and they didn't ship til Saturday and they went USPS which means it would have had to have been nothing short of miraculous if they arrived.

Then I checked my mailbox and I dropped my electric bill down into the ginormous, knee-high snowbank that I had to trudge through to retrieve and my legs were cold and snowy and I cursed my lack of snowboots and then I went inside and LO! ON MY STAIRS! A parcel!

I had also ordered some Christmas presents so I had to see if it came from Amazon or the Boot People (I didn't want to get my hopes up.) The Boot Fairies. The magical, wonderful Boot Fairies.

And they were my boots and I did a happy dance and I ran up into my apartment and I put them on and they fit and were fuzzy inside and warm and I may or may not have worn them around my entire apartment and baked cookies in them and did dishes in them and all but snuggled them.

I am excited to wear them outside. Except I have a client meeting tomorrow. So I have to dress nice. So I should probably wear (bring) real shoes.

NOT ballet flats.


Monday, December 14, 2009

Cookiethon 2009

So, it's not the holidays without excessive baking. In particular, it is not Christmas without sugar cookies. Not just ANY sugar cookies, mind you, but the sugar cookies I grew up with that are ridiculously bad for you and ridiculously delicious.

I forgot how much of a pain in the ass they are to make. I started Friday night, finished a batch Saturday, baked the last batch on Sunday, and am still dragging my feet on finishing them (icing and decorating, to be specific). Still, they're totally worth it when they're done. I'm just not sure any cookies should merit random bursts of obscene words.

Because I'm lame, I took pictures of various cookie bits... with my phone... which got some flour in the rollerball... which actually seemed to make it work a little better... go figure. So the quality is shit but you can get the idea.

Also, apparently, I am the keeper of an icing recipe that my friend Calee desperately wants. Muahaha. (She's not getting it at least until I get the hat she made me.) I didn't realize it was such a valuable formula. #powertrip

Anywho. I've got a couple more recipes I would like to try out, so I'll likely have a few more batches yet before I hang up the apron, but, we're off to a good start.

And yes, I am blogging about cookies because I don't want to blog about my feelings or any other similar shit because I am in a Mood and I will probably just turn into an emotional headcase as per usual.

red & white cookies

Pretty swirl design as the blue frosting came into being

AAAaaa! Frosting everywhere!

Shiny pretty blue cookies.

A sampling of the finished products.

Friday, December 11, 2009

Hope: Not Just a Campaign Slogan

Similar to the setup of FML, TFLN, MLIA, PMS, TMI, STFU* - we add GMH to the pile.

However, I actually like this one. It kinda sorta makes me tear up. SHUT UP OKAY.

*ok, ok, not alllll of these are real sites. Might as well be, at the rate they are procreating.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

One Monday This Week Was Enough, Thankyouverymuch

So, after being holed up all day due to Snowmageddon, yesterday felt eerily like Sunday and subsequently today felt a hell of a lot like a Monday. (By logic, if tomorrow then feels like Tuesday, I shall be pleasantly surprised when I realize it's actually Friday...) Two Mondays in one week? Yuck.

Luckily, it was a rather quiet day, I spent most of it absorbed in a small number of projects that took more time than I'd thought (as opposed to lots of projects in wee increments of time), and thanks to the glory that is Word Of Mouth, I found out Qdoba was giving out free burritos from 2-4. My friend Molly, being awesome although slightly creepy in her lurking-yet-not-joining of Twitter, came and got me and I took a late lunch and had a most delicious FREE burrito (and I won a koozie, hooray), got back to the office and felt like I was going to die, didn't die (obviously), and as it turns out, I didn't even break the bank on calories today. So, epic wins all around.

My Christmas cards arrived in my hands today. At first I was really disappointed, and kicking myself for not adding some design elements in that I FOR REAL ALMOST DID. Like I wished I'd made them bluer. I forgot how white the paper was, even for a metallic. I used the "wrong" blue, it didn't match my envelopes or my ubercute return address labels. I pouted. I got home, and tried to look at them objectively, and really, they're not that bad. I am sure some of you will get them and you will have to tell me that they are awesome even if they are not otherwise I am going to feel bad about having some printed up and spending more money than if I'd just bought some damn boxes from Target. Phooey. Oh well, I guess. It's far from the end of the world. I just wish I wasn't such a perfectionist. I should also quit pretending like I'm still a designer. It's been almost three years (THREE FREAKING YEARS WHEN THE HELL DID THAT HAPPEN) since I've really designed anything, and I'm losing my eye for it. I still can distinguish between good and bad design, mostly, but I can't do it. Then again, I've always been able to see it better than practice it. Meh, whatever. That is why I am a Project Goddess instead. (I should have them change my business cards.)

Also: I have belt testing already next Monday. Holy God. I am feeling slightly more prepared than I was this past Monday (you know, the first one. The "real" one.) I missed a lot of class. My motivation was sinking and the only reason I was hanging in there was because I put it on my damn list that I wanted to get my black belt before I was thirty. I know myself well enough to know that if I quit with the intent of just "taking a break" - I'm done. I don't half-quit. Either way, I will be testing for my brown belt. You know what that means, kids? I will be three belts away from my black belt. I feel like I've just fucking plowed through the ranks and I'm almost there. Which terrifies me. I feel like I've gone through them too fast and I am not ready to be up there. Yikes. But, I guess I wouldn't be here if I didn't earn it, so maybe I am doing better than I think. I don't know.

Anyway. I am going to go back to straightening my hair. Why, you ask? Because it makes me feel pretty. And God knows I need that sometimes. Also because I feel like I've looked like a slob all week. You can only make a ponytail classy for so many days in a row (four). Side benefit: it is warm and it is freaking chilly in here. The only warm room is my bedroom and sometimes it's too toasty in there. I suppose it would make sense to open that door and share the wealth, but my stupid cat is into everything and I don't need cat hair on my clothes or bed or everywhere. And I don't want her to eat my jewelry. Cause that bitch totally would try. (She totally managed to fish a tampon out of a box today. That would have been awkward if I'd had company, then again, if I had company, I probably wouldn't be leaving boxes of tampons anywhere out in the open, either.)

PS - tomorrow is payday, praise Jesus! I can PAY MY BILLS and NOT BE IN THE RED and my cell phone company can STOP CALLING ME (I scheduled a payment yesterday, dammit! PATIENCE!) and I can get my car running again and all shall be well. Peasants? Rejoice.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Snow & Angst. Snangst.

Well it appears as though Winter Death Storm #1 is subsiding. Sounds like the area got hit with 10-14" inches of snow, I'll just go with it, it's not like I'm going to run outside with a yardstick to check or anything. That's a bitchload. The entire city was shut down today... from what I could hear via Twitter, most of my acquaintances can't even get out of their lots and driveways, even if they wanted to. Myself, I'm not actually going stir crazy, possibly because all I do on days off is sleep, but I am getting restless. This probably has more to do with the fact that I couldn't go anywhere if I wanted to because my car is borked, not because I am terrified omg of the snow. Which is also slightly valid, I guess. But, the sudden oil leakage from my car replicated itself with a new dose of oil, and so it's stuck until I can go get more. We don't have official alternate-side street parking on my street during the winter, more of an unofficial, unspoken "everybody park on the same side so the plows can get through" rule - and I feel really, really bad because I can't move mine. But my landlord was freaking awesome and was apparently out snowblowing today and cleared the area in front of my car so when I CAN move it, I can actually get out. I should make him some cookies or something.

What's more, my bank account is severely overdrawn (largely because of overdraft fees - holy hell, the new bank merger has resulted in larger fees. Shit.) - I can't afford anything ANYWAY, even if I had an opportunity to go somewhere. Which I didn't. Because everyone was snowed in and everything was closed. It was bizarre. Seriously - we closed early yesterday (which we did once last year so it wasn't completely unheard of), but we were closed all day today. I don't think I've had a full official snow day since high school. If I owned showshoes or even snowboots, I could probably have hiked it in to work, but there wouldn't have been anybody else there, and judging from my inbox, none of my clients were really working today anyway, so it really wouldn't have been very worthwhile.

I suppose I could have been slightly more productive today than I was, but... having no money and no transportation hinders any external things I could be doing, and I was too cold and depressed to do anything around the apartment. I did do some dishes, though, so that should count for something, I guess. My computer desk and my bed were the two places I could be found all day. Sigh.

Also... I am trying really hard to be good what with just sitting around with nothing to do but eat. I've only gone a wee bit over on my calorie counts, but, well, I've got it set on the most challenging setting, so meh. Also, surprisingly, the stuff I actually have around here isn't terribly high in calorie-count anyway. Except my grilled cheese sammiches.

Also... I am really annoyed at this blog right now. I have nothing of note to write about so I just blather about my car and my lame diet attempts. Which, whatever. Then I read other people's blogs that are actually GOOD, with worthwhile content or at least quality humor, and I get inferiority complexes. I suppose it will pass and I will be back to my usual narcissistic self, but. WHINE WHINE WHINE. Maybe I need to give this one a facelift. Except I pretty much hate all other Blogger templates so I will probably just keep this one. I'm sick of my Twitter avatar too. I am bored, I think. I alternate between contentment and boredom. Which, I suppose, isn't a horrible thing. It's just not terribly interesting. And life is too short to be bored for an extended period of time.

I need to refresh things. I am definitely in a rut. And this is what is making me restless.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

F Words.


Today sucks. I mean, I'm in a perfectly pleasant mood, but it still sucks. First of all - I'm broke. I finally manage to deplete my funds and over draw my account (again) and I have to wait three more days for the cavalry (aka my paycheck) to come in. And there are still transactions that haven't gone through yet, so I'm going to have some hefty overdraft fees, I am sure. Boo.

Also, my car might be broke'd. It is possibly leaking oil. And not just a little "oh, we'll add more in and it will be fine" leak. Like, it peed all of its oil onto the street overnight on Sunday. My light came on while I was driving to work yesterday, I had a friend help me check it (same friend who helped me check my coolant. And my tires. And... her dad apparently taught her wayyyy more about cars than mine did.) and it was pretty much empty. So, got some oil, poured it in... haven't had a chance to check it again but I'm keeping my fingers crossed. Hopefully something wasn't tight or something was otherwise done incorrectly the last time the oil got changed, and the sudden cold weather and snow triggered it and made it bleed. Otherwise, fuuuuuuuuuck. I can't afford another car repair. Either way, it's going to sit until payday and I will carpool until I can get it checked. Fixed. Whatever.

And yes, that's right, I said snow. Motherfucking snow. Just a little bit, not quite enough for me to have my panic attacks yet, but we are supposedly in the throes (borderline throe-age, I guess) for Winter Death Storm 2009 and are supposed to get pummeled today. Fucking great. Which, I guess, if I'm not driving anywhere, I don't really care about, but still, it's just the icing (no pun intended) on the cake.

The only thing I have to console myself with is that my jeans fit kind of better today except I think it's probably because they've already been worn and thus stretched out a little. Still, I am hoping this fitness regimen is working... it's the only thing of interest I have going on right now.

Say it with me: SIGH.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

I'm So Vain, I Probably Think This Blog Is About Me

(well, possibly because it is... Sigh.)

First - housekeeping: Still going strong on Operation:Not Fat, I ate a little more today which is probably good because I've actually been unintentionally not doing so this week (after my spree of trying to get caught up on finances after my full paycheck, I'm starting to worry about what remains, so I haven't gotten groceries yet. The fact that I forgot to pay my cell phone bill last month is actually probably beneficial to me, even if it annoys US Cellular. Meh. I'll pay that one first this month.) Some of my coworkers and I went out for lunch at this really num-a-licious pizza place on Main Street - and I was good! I got a chef's salad which was actually ridiculously huge. (I did get one of their signature cookies, though. Hey, I'm not a saint.) That and last time I ate there the pizza really fucked with my stomach. It's damn good, but I'm not sure it's worth the pain and suffering later. Then I went to tae kwon do which was a phenomenal workout today, and we had the master instructor today so I actually learned things and felt like I was getting somewhere, and less behind. Belt testing is in two weeks. One word: FUCK. Of course, now that I am on this fitness kick, I will have a hard time justifying skipping class. So, that's a plus. Then I came home and did some Pilates. Which is kind of an interesting experience when you've got a kitty trying to climb all over you.

ANYWAY. I started a separate blog once upon a time to track my exercise stuff, did two posts, and abandoned it. Maybe I should use it again, ha. I don't want to bore y'all with all of it in this one, but until I get a routine going, you might just have to deal with it.

In the meantime!

Despite the fact that I am not feeling on my A-game, looks wise, I am kind of a little bit proud of some ads that I "modeled" for for work. We did a photo shoot with some of the new pieces for Iowa State University and the University of Iowa. As it turns out, I ended up on the cover of both of our catalogs AND in the ad that went in some area papers. I'm actually getting the most comments from people who are seeing it in the ISU paper, which is kind of funny, because I don't even go there anymore. I know more people still in school than I thought, haha!

Anyway. Before I quit my day job and head to Milan to hit the runways, I'll just be content with my 5 minutes of central Iowa fame. I present to you: my modeling portfolio.

(almost made it through that with a straight face, ha.)

For the "other" team. But my dad's a U of I fan, so it's ok.
Plus I like this pic better.

The cover photo for the ISU catalog.
I accept this pic as being moderately cute.

The "famous" (infamous?) ad.
(*cough* shameless plug *cough*)

This one wasn't used. I am making my "are we taking a photo right now?" face.
Cause as you can see I am not actually smiling.
I don't actually know WHAT I was doing.

This one didn't get used either but I think it is kind of a cute one.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

I Suck At Titles.

Hello, bloglings! I see you've returned for more aimless rambling. You've come to the right place.

I've been pretty exhausted all week. I had a cold over Thanksgiving which, interestingly, started Wednesday, hit its peak on Friday and was nearly gone by Sunday. Hey, I'll take it. I thought that was the end of this bout of illness but I felt... drained... all week. This morning I woke up and my head hurt and my stomach wasn't quite sure what it wanted to be like and it was quite apparent that I needed to get more rest. My general practice (because I hate missing work) is to give it 2 hours... by then, I'm either dead to the world for the day and NOT leaving bed at all, or, I'm usually as good as I'm going to get and I haul myself out of bed and proceed with the day - and usually by later in the afternoon I'm feeling good again. Today, though - man. I could have probably slept like a rock until late afternoon. When I crawled back under my blankets, I slept so hard that I had dreams within my dreams. I still didn't have a lot of energy but I had stuffs to do and so I pushed myself out the door and as the day went on my body started to snap out of it. Yeesh. NOT a fan. Right now though I am feeling pretty good, just got done showering and grooming and that usually helps with mornings, because I don't have to do much besides get dressed and slap on some makeup. Showers on cold mornings aren't exactly appealing. Once I can figure out how to get my hair to look awesome after sleeping on it damp, I will be all set.

The Self Improvement Project continues... I am on Day 2 of remembering to track my foods and Day 3 of actually doing some sort of Physical Activity, so I consider this a success, so far. I may be stubborn and ambitious but dammit I also love food and have no willpower. My friend Calee pretty much made me sign up for a calorie tracker called the Daily Plate, which I finally started using yesterday in earnest... which has actually helped me pay attention to what the hell I am putting in my mouth. I actually felt guilty for eating 3 Oreos today, even though I have extra calories to spare since I pretty much forgot to eat all day (oops). So far I am doing really good... the biggest challenge is going to be to stop binge eating, which has always been my biggest problem. I never feel like I'm full. :(

As far as exercising, I think this is the longest streak I've been on, post-HS, which is saaaaad. It was easy to be in shape back then; I was in whatever seasonal sport was occurring (volleyball, softball, track, and in my "off" season I was working so I was on my feet a lot) and we had practice every day and it was just easy. Then I got to college, and got lazy. I did make it a point of personal pride to always walk to class. There was maybe one or two times when I had a class on the wayyyyy far end of campus and it was cold and rainy and my friend talked me into catching the bus. But mostly I walked. Even in the winter. Aaaaand now I sit at a desk all day. (Well, most of the day. I suppose I get a few points for my random bursts of running around like a madwoman).

Monday I went to tae kwon do like a good girl, and I felt like it was painfully obvious that I haven't been going as regularly as I did when I started. But, now that I am forcing myself to exercise, I think it will be easier to motivate myself to go. Yesterday I did my new Pilates DVD that arrived in the mail. I don't know what it is about Pilates but I really enjoy it. Maybe because I don't need fancy equipment or even to run around in my living room and get overly sweaty and out of breath - it is simple and effective. I want to tone up, and that's what it does. The DVD I got has three targeted workouts - belly, butt & thighs. Not surprisingly, the thigh workout was the easiest for me. My legs have always been freakishly strong and kind of muscular, even when I don't do much. (My arms, on the other hand? WEAK WEAK WEAK.) I was a tad disappointed today that I couldn't really feel much other than a little bit in the upper abs... but when I went and did it again tonight, the belly segment was way harder than it was yesterday... so it did something, I guess. I also found a different Pilates DVD that I bought, eh, a year ago and never used (or opened) - that one has five segments and came with toning bands, so maybe I'll alternate up the two. The one that I just ordered came recommended to me by the lady I coached softball - she has two kids and about fifteen years on me, and she looks better than I probably ever will. So, I am trusting her recommendation. She swears that if I keep at it, 3x a week for 6 weeks, I will definitely start to see results. SO- I guess that is what I shall do.

I also went to Target today and bought a yoga mat because daaaaamn hardwood floors are NOT fun. (Bonus? There was one on sale for $8! YAY!) I also then almost died on the way home because some jackass decided to drive in front of oncoming traffic. I think he was in the left turn lane coming from the opposite direction, and instead of yielding at the green light, he pulled out in front of two lanes of traffic. I was, of course, in the right hand lane, so I didn't even SEE him until it was almost too late, because there was a minivan to my left that had pulled out first. They probably had a better chance of seeing him but even so, who would be expecting it? He may as well have run a red light from the crossbound lanes. RIGHT in front of us. I mean, this was a huge SUV, I almost t-boned him, I had to slam on my brakes and I'm pretty sure I was only inches away. It was scary as fuck. NOBODY needs to be in that big of hurry. I was still shaking by the time I got home, which fortunately I was pretty close to otherwise I probably would have had to pull off and hyperventilate for a minute or two. I got really lucky. My Pontiac vs the SUV? I would have accelerated right into the passenger side. It could have been really, really bad. I'm still a little freaked out just thinking about it. Fortunately, I guess, it wouldn't have been at too high of speeds, coming from a red light, but... still. I think somebody upstairs was looking out for me.

Anyway. I need to get to bed and recharge for tomorrow - it's gonna be Thursday already! I thought for sure this week would drag considering last week was a short one... but nope, it's flying by. Weird.

Also weird, I'm starting to find that I can't really go to bed/shut down for the night until I've written something. It's a very relaxing way to end the day, to just purge it and be done. Whether it be a blog post or scribbles in a notebook, I feel like the day is incomplete if I don't do it. There's been a couple nights that I actually wrote things out by hand, on paper... mostly cause by then I was curled up in bed and didn't want to get back up to go to my computator. So, I'll possibly probably have to type those up and post at some point, just to make sure the chronicles of this year stay in tact. It's kind of handy, I'm practically writing my autobiography while in progress. ;) Except that I don't write about everything and the first... eh... 20? years of my life are not recorded to pixels anywhere and quite frankly I'm not sure I really need to share all that anyway. It's not that I had a crappy childhood... I was just kind of disconnected from the world and was content to live in my own imagination. If I was that same kid right now, I'd probably be loaded down with medications and/or diagnosed with autism - looking back at myself, it would be easy to confuse my daydreaming independence for some sort of disorder. So, I'm kind of glad I grew up as a child of the 80s when they just kind of let you work your shit out on your own, and hey look, I turned out just fine. Then there was middle school which was horrible and embarrassing because I never fit in and I prefer to not dwell. High school was okay. It got better towards the end. I somehow flipped the magic switch between junior year and senior year and managed to be "cool" enough. I know I faked a lot of it, but high school is not the place for as complex and... err... unique a personality like my own. It was too big for a small space. Nobody would have understood. So I learned to moderate the me that everyone saw, compared to the me that was actually genuinely me. Fortunately, during college I was able to "save" myself and embrace my weirdness and whathaveyou and finally learned how to be myself, the self that I had spent 18 years trying to hide and conform.

Aaaaand like usual I've managed to veer WAY off course because all I wanted to do was sign off and go to bed. Funny how that works. It's starting to fascinate me how I manage to completely stray from whatever crap I was talking about into things I never meant to say or even really thought about, but they just come out of my fingertips like they've been waiting. Blogger is my shrink. I hope Google doesn't decide to start charging me for this service. It's like my own personal therapy.

Say it with me now: Fiscal Responsibility. ;)

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

(Yes, we are STILL on this.)

Where to begin, today? There's no real starting point. There's nothing new to uncover. It's more of the same old drivel. Your time would be better spent doing just about anything else than wading through this crap.

The onset of winter always makes me sad. A general glum melancholy that I can't explain. For no good reason at all - which is absurd. So I always go looking for one. I don't generally need to look far right now. I have a perpetual source of angst to fall back on.

I don't really know what my deal is. I've never had it this bad or held on for this long before. Couple months, tops, usually. But damn. I'm closing in on, like, a year. Is this what this feels like, to have such and epic, unrequited, hopeless attachment?

I can't shake it. God knows I've tried. I've tried being aloof, I've tried avoidance, I've tried focusing on friendship, I've tried being angry, I've tried being sad, I've tried going on dates with other boys. Hell, I've tried everything I can think of to get over this. Maybe I'm not trying hard enough. Maybe on some level I don't want to. Either way... it's just not happening.

So what now? I've resigned myself to an indefinite torture, of wishing and waiting and of keeping my big mouth shut. It's no use bringing it back up; nothing's changed for me, why would it have changed for him? We are at a stalemate. It's possible he could change his mind - stranger things have happened. But let's be real, and face this with a healthy dose of skepticism. We are at a stalemate. I keep my silence, as painful as it is, in an effort to hang on to that last bit of pure friendship. Even at that, it feels like I'm losing. Failing. Besides, it's hard for me to work out my side of being Just Friends that isn't tainted with all my ulterior motives. That, and I'm totally don't even feel like I'm being honest, because I'm pretending to not feel what I do. But it would just be stupid to reopen that conversation. That first rejection hurt a LOT and I don't particularly need nor want to relive the experience. Would saying it again suddenly inspire a change of heart? HIGHLY, HIGHLY doubtful. Just more hurt and embarrassment for me. I'll pass.

I am thinking that that line from When Harry Met Sally is right. A man and a woman can never really be friends. Biology complicates things.

At risk of sounding completely conceited (what's new?), I don't get how I can be so completely disregarded. (I know, I know, we've been over this, already). I'm starting to rack up an impressive tally of wannabe suitors. I know I may have some severe self-esteem issues right now, but if I can get my body image under control, I'm damn near unstoppable. I used to be able to get what I wanted. Maybe not right away, and maybe not permanently, but enough to be satisfied. I don't care how many compliments I get (I'm pretty, I'm fun, I'm witty, I'm smart, blah blah blah) - it feels like empty praise if it isn't serving me how I need it to. It's like... like it's being noticed by all the wrong people, if that makes any sense. It's being wasted. And thus, it is of no use to me. God, I sound so terribly vain. Which is amazing considering I cringe every time I look in the mirror. Textbook narcissism, I guess.

The thing that possibly pains me the most is how very helpless I feel to resolve the situation. I am tied to my emotions and they are wreaking havoc with the logical side of my sensibilities. Why in God's name would I put myself through this? Hell if I know. Maybe cause I'm just human, like everyone else. What I do know is, these damn feelings have been lingering for far too long, and they're relentless.

And I know that time is only useful for so long. I've had this nice long period of relative clam... but nothing stays the same for long. What happens when some other (available) girl piques his interest? What happens when she reciprocates? I sure as hell am not going to be able to sit around and watch that. The thought of it leaves me greatly unsettled. It's kind of like how the general jealousy-inspired saying goes - if I can't have him then I don't really want anyone else to either. I have an invisible claim, and just because he's not cooperating... ....

I sound insane. I realize this.

It would all be so very very simple if I was able to function like, well, someone with common sense. An acknowledgment that he's "just not that into" me, never was, never will be, didn't seem to faze me. I need to let go and move on to more plausible endeavors. But I cannot reiterate enough how very very stupid I am. Or have become, rather. Like I said - I used to be able to let go. Now? Hell, I can't even explain to you what my logic is. If I can look at it objectively, I can see how ridiculous it all is. But it's never really objective, is it? The heart wants what it wants. I am no more able to control it than I am able to snap my fingers and magically drop 30 pounds. Feh.

So what is all the point of all this whining, you ask? Quite simply, there isn't one. I don't want pity or advice or cliched sentiments of encouragement. I don't really want anything, because nothing that could be said changes anything. The status quo stands. As always. All I really wanted was to get it out of my head so I can get some sleep. And now it's out. And I will.