the eff word

"So anyway, blah blah blah. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I know I'm just some random chick you met on the internet, but I hope you think of me as a friend, and know that I'm here for you."

"I do think of you as my friend. That is a fact. I feel like I can trust you, and am totally comfortable talking to you, which is clear because of the nonsense that's come out of my mouth during this conversation".


Vero says I'm just trying to deny my feelings. I don't want to like him, but I do. I know he's hooking up with other people. He's told me. I keep trying to do the same but I just don't want to. I can't help it. I'm distracted, fascinated, overwhelmed by the fact that my face hurts from laughing so much after we spend time together. I hate this. Why can't I just let it be?

Rainy Monday

Thanks to a fairly high dose of prescription Ambien and some more than decent red wine, I've actually managed to get +6 hours of sleep the past two nights in a row. Sure I know it's prob not the most healthy approach to bedtime, but hell - I was so tired I was starting to hear voices. Sooner or later they were going to convince me to walk naked down the overpass or something equally newsworthy.

My apologies for depriving you all of the story.

The architect came in with all of the forms to fill out for divorce yesterday. I was more than a little surprised at the suddenness. I mean, sure I guess I figured it was going to happen, I just thought maybe we'd have a conversation about it or something first, you know? Like I'd get a little forewarning, not just a file folder on the kitchen table when he popped by to help me fix my closet door. He says he wants to get it all over with so we can go back to being best friends, and that he wants me to be happy. He says he wants to start dating and wants me to do the same thing.

I laughed. I'm a chubby, almost 40 loser in a state packed full of lithe blonde prom queens. I'm hardly the ideal date. He's gonna have no problem. In fact he told me that he's already got a girl that he's been talking to. I kinda suspected b/c there is one particular new face on his facebook page that rang an alarm bell for me. C'est la vie, I guess. At least my blog will get (somewhat) interesting again.

le sigh

One of the forgotten drawbacks of being single - there's no one to help you fold the fucking fitted sheet.

I've had family here for basically the last week so just washed a veritable mountain of laundry. That's exactly how I wanted to spend my sunny sundae. Trust me. 

In other words, I have some wicked fucking insmonia. Like even the sleeping pills won't make it go away.  I've been awake since about 3am. I'm feeling pretty good about life right now - believe you me. Though the positive side to this whole thing is that I've lost six pounds. I was being chipper about that to a friend the other day because god knows you can't be chunky when you are back on the dating market. His response to me was that he didn't think I needed to worry about my 'sexpottyness'.

Say it outloud - it's a fun word. Plus it's about the nicest thing anyone's said to me in a while so there's that.

It smells kinda funky

Yes these are dead fish.

Anyway, the downside to disappearing to the desert for a 3-day minibreak is that on the day you have to come home you find that you really really REALLY don't want to come home and so you decide to take a 100 mile detour to the Salton Sea because once you saw it on Bourdain and it seemed all romantic and cool-like but it's really just smelly and full of dead fish. Also you develop a massive stomach ache that feels like someone has grasped your esophagus in their fists and is SQUEEZING your carne asada quesadilla back up towards freedom, which isn't good because it's kinda chewed up now and couldn't make it on its own in the real world. Fortunately I don't have any photographs of the carne.

praise jeebus for sangria

The good think about taking yourself on a 3-day minibreak to the desert is how fucking HOT the desert is, so really all you can do is lounge poolside drinking sangria from a (BPA free, thank you very much) plastic bottle that you smuggled in under the watchful eye of the rentacops. Every once in a while you peel your sweaty self up off the lounger and kind of melt your way towards the pool where you splash around listlessly (way to hot for any kind of list) (though I was probably listing after a bottle or two of sangria). Lather. Rinse. Repeat. When even this becomes too much effort you wander upstairs for a shower and a nap. Clearly I should have spent more time in the desert when I was unemployed, because that is the life I was born to live. Of course I couldn't afford to do it then (and can't really now, because I have 8 days to vacate my apartment and still nowhere to relocate myself or the cats). But that's a story for another day.

exorcise me

So it's Good Friday which is a much bigger deal in Canada than it is in the US. I have no idea why - Puritan heritage? Stubborn refusal to embrace the three (or four) day weekend?

Either way.

Someone on the CBC is talking about exorcisms and the modern Catholic Church. I guess in Italy there are 300-400 alone. In 2005, 500K people came to see an exorcism. I wonder if these people really need exorcisms, or if they just need a hug? I dunno. I'm not sure I believe in the fact that people can be possessed by evil spirits. I mean, I *do* believe that it can happy, but 500K in one year?

I'd like to exorcise myself from the ghosts of my past. It's funny how sometimes they start rattling around in my head like ebenezer's spirits, brandishing their chains and moaning about wrongs inflicted and received. Last night was one of those nights - an inbox full of memories, not all of them good.

(The CBC has switched from exorcism to organic farming. Are they trying to say something about something being full of shit? No comment from this peanut)

All I want for

So for Christmas I received a starter set of Globals and a soon-to-be-brother-in-law (I think that goes down on record as the longest hyphenated word I've ever typed.) Both of these things are awesome.

It wasn't bad, you know - I mean, I missed my fam and my friends, but we had some really good friends over for xmas eve-eve, we had a great meal with the architect's fam on the Eve, and spent the day opening presents, chatting with my family via skype, and then drinking at a friend's place. Last night we headed home to chill and decompress and realized that we'd actually had a really nice holiday. I had only two moments of emotude: one when the kiddo opened his christmas eve gift over the phone with me and told me he missed me, and the next was a post-supernatural text from the sister saying that it wasn't the same without me. Damn those winchester boys.