Single People Deserve to Die

A coworker of mine found out that their spouse (a salesperson) was scheduled to take a trip out of the country to an area that had been on the news lately because of outbursts of violence. Among the many reasons they came up with as to why this was a horrible idea (which I agree it was) was “It’s not like (they’re) a single person, they have a spouse.”

All of a sudden it became so clear. Since I have not married, my life is expendable. Phew, now I don’t feel nearly as bad for spending the weekend watching “Deadliest Catch” and eating dip. I probably will stop wearing my seat belt, start running with scissors and perhaps I should take up smoking or a nice heroin habit. Seeing as I am a 34 year old single person, it’s not like it would matter as much. I mean really, I’ve only got one ovary and fallopian tube left and at my ever advancing age, the likelihood of me procreating gets smaller every day.

Sure, I have pets, but they are just animals. I have family and such, but no one has chosen to be legally tied to me, therefore, I’m expendable.

I mean really people, how easy is it to be single?!?! I have one salary with which I pay for all my expenses. Luckily I have the opportunity to buy engagement, wedding, baby shower and other gifts for those people who have found someone who wants to have legal ties to them. It makes me understand that not only is my life not worth as much, but that all milestones in my life aren’t worth as much because Target doesn’t have a registry for “Single Girl’s New Place” or “Heather Needs a New Handbag” or “Dog and Cat Toys are Free.”  I don’t mean to imply that I begrudge my married and baby-making friends, but damn y’all, with a life as non-momentous as mine apparently has been, it hurts the ego.

I have the strength of one person to carry groceries up the stairs.  If a bug needs killing, it’s all me. If someone invites me to do something, pretty much no other person on the planet gives a shit if i do it or not. I mean, hell, I’m SUPER expendable since I don’t even have siblings. I’m like the SUPER SINGLE PERSON. I was born single, grew up single, hit mid-life (ish) single and at this point it’s looking like old age is going to be single for me too. It’s almost selfish of me to have a job. A job that could go to a married person with a family. But that’s how we single folks roll……

The single person really hardly even deserves a vacation, unless to go to a wedding, baby shower, funeral or other occassion. Once we hit our 30’s it gets hard to find a group of single folk (or open minded marrieds) who are apt to want to take the same vacation. Luckily for me, being an only child and all, I can take vacations with my parents….that isn’t pitiful at all!

I hate to sound like a whiner. I suppose I’m lucky that I haven’t been put in a home for spinsters by now. I’m fortunate that I’m allowed to walk the same streets and pay the same taxes as those who have legal ties to others. Maybe I’ll take the route of this lady at least I’d be married.

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Maybe it’s just a phase….

In addition to the family drama of this past weekend, I got to spend some time with my cousin’s three little boys, Jackson (6) Joshua (almost 3) and Lucas (almost 2) and it’s got me thinking about kids again. While it was exhausting just watching my cousin’s wife take care of their every need at all times, it was heartbreaking to watch them cuddle up to her and look at her like she was the most wonderful person on the planet. No matter how much I love my dog, it’s just not the same.

From watching Jack play little league to helping Josh learn to play the wii to watching Luke run around in perfect circles on his tippy toes, it all was so wonderful. I can’t imagine anything more fulfilling then having little lives like that be around you, and molded by you. But I’m almost positive I don’t want to do it alone.

So, it gets back to the whole marriage thing. Well, perhaps not marriage, but at least a committed relationship, committed to the point that I would want to have children with this man. I guess, pretty much marriage.  Will I wake up at 50 years old in a cold sweat feeling like my life has been a total waste if I don’t do the husband and kids thing? At this point, I’m pretty sure I will, and this scares the hell out of me. What is the point of a life if you leave no physical legacy?

I’m happy with my life right now. Things are going well. I’m in a better place in the universe then I have been for a long. long time. But will this contentment make me complacent as to moving forward with my life? Will I get comfortable and never marry or have children? Or is it better to be comfortable and let things happen as they are meant to then it would be to actively pursue marriage and children, which may result in them being scared off?

I don’t know, but it’s pretty much consuming my mind these days. That, and the face below, who could SO be my kid and I totally should have snatched when I had the chance 🙂  My cousin has two more kids, would he really miss one?

Lyrical Truth….

Nobody’s Girl                                                                                                                                        (W. Braun/ M. Braun)                                                                                                                             The first man that you ever loved
Left your mamma, never said goodbye to anyone
And you were raised with your head held high
But any fool can see it’s just a clever disguise

You’re nobody’s baby
You’re nobody’s darlin’
You’re nobody’s girl

You’ve always been a little scared to open your heart
And you never let anybody take it too far
You never let em’ on the inside
‘Cause you’re always scared of getting taken for a ride

You’re nobody’s baby
You’re nobody’s darlin’
You’re nobody’s girl

Everybody wants you but you don’t wanna care
So you keep em’ at a distance with the frown you wear
You spend your time trying to even the score
And you’ve got it in your head you deserve a lot more
The first one was a total disaster
So was the second one and every one after
But when you’re breaking in a broken home
You’re gonna be sure to spend some nights on your own

When you’re nobody’s baby
You’re nobody’s darlin’
You’re nobody’s girl
You’re nobody’s baby
You’re nobody’s darlin’
You’re nobody’s girl
You’re nobody’s girl

This is one of my favorite songs by my favorite band. It has been suggested that this is MY song and perfectly explains me. No amount of love for the band or the song can make that statement not suck.

This is a HORRIBLE song to have people think it about me. Sure, there are some similarities to situations in my life. Sure, most of my nights are spent in bed with a dog and two cats, not some hot fella. Of course, it has been expressed to me that I tend to keep folks at a distance, but I don’t frown that often!

Fine, this is SO my life. Again, the illustrious Braun brothers have insight to me without even knowing me. Now how do I change this?????

 

God Bless Reckless Kelly!

They’ve posted some preview tracks from their upcoming cd and I’ve been listening to them ALL DAY!

I can pretty safely say that they are my favorite band….and hopefully not sound like a teenager when I do so. To write tearful ballads, hard rocking songs and now a “topical” tune (American Blood) shows the extent of their talent. Seriously, just when I think they can get no better, they prove me wrong.

I look forward to a lifetime of them proving me wrong and cannot wait until June 24!!

If you want to be in the know go here. Just don’t tell the IT guy at my office I’ve been streaming all day 🙂

What’s on my mind today.

  1. a certain friend who is being distant these days. When I ask them about something in particular they indicate that I don’t know what’s going on with their world right now and when I point out that the inquiry was attempting to remedy that precise situation, they say nothing.
  2. an email a friend sent me the other day about “farting strawberries” that continues to make me laugh out loud.
  3. how men can walk into the bathroom with a cup of coffee or other beverage in their hands and do their business. Even if they put the cup on the counter, who knows what kind of “spray” is floating around there. My office is across from the men’s room and I have offered my desk, etc…as a storage spot for beverages. Not nearly enough of them have taken me up on this offer.
  4. sometimes I think that I don’t express aspects of my personality and interest correctly. For example, I love to go to art shows, etc….but I think most people think I’m just a bar type gal.
  5. in addition to art, I also enjoy this immensely. If only I could roller skate and was at all a bad ass.
  6. I want attention from boys, but I don’t want to have to ask for it. Wait, correction, I want attention from certain boys.
  7. most people don’t get me. It’s not that I’m all complicated or anything, I think people just don’t know what to make of me a lot of the time. I guess it makes sense since I don’t know what to make of myself a lot of the time. Perhaps I need to find more folks who are willing to come along for the ride.
  8. There is a boy/man in my office whose hair I want to run my fingers through. In a meeting yesterday I could vividly imagine myself reaching across the table and doing just that. I even think my arm twitched a bit in an effort to move my imagination into reality.
  9. I can’t wait to move into my new place, but HATE packing.
  10. If I look just to the right of my monitor I see my Tim Gunn bobblehead and a chair that has one of my old bridesmaid dresses and a box with a broken piggy bank in it.
  11. My hair needs to be colored in the worst way.
  12. Everyone keeps coming in and “borrowing” my flavored coffee creamer. Whatever.
  13. There is a member of my family who is dying. This person has done terrible things and has pretty much ruined a segment of my family. However, they have recreated themselves for people who don’t know the “other stuff” and those people are completely devastated at the idea of the loss. I feel bad for the people who are able to live in ignorant bliss about this person.
  14. I miss my girlfriends in Cali. like crazy. Recently I’ve just wished it was like 9 years ago and we were all ruling the music department at a So Cal Borders with caustic wit and more estrogen then you can shake a stick at. The best part is that, even though we don’t see each other very often (and I see them the least of all) I know that they will always have my back and I will always have theirs.
  15. I really wish the damn IT guy would come load iTunes on my computer!!!!
  16. cupcakes again……
  17. my dog
  18. how my March madness bracket could have gone SO badly. However, not badly enough for me to be in last place in the work pool, where I would at LEAST get my $10 back!

Ok–that’s all. My mind has just stopped suddenly. I will now go watch the clock countdown until I will leave the office and go to the bar to play some trivia and drink some vodka…..but seriously, I do like art 🙂

Five years later…..

March 2003 was a pivotal month in my life. Well, really just a couple of days in March 2003.  I’m thinking it was  Tuesday March 18 when the changes started.  I had been working with a local band for over a year. I LOVED it. Had so much fun I couldn’t believe it, that kind of thing.  For a few weeks, things had seemed strained when we were all together. I was getting odd messages from various band members about other band members. I was NOT getting return calls, follow through, etc. That morning I got a call from the drummer. The rational one (which is odd for a drummer!) and he said “Well, you probably figured this out already, but we’re done.”  It was kind of like an odd break-up. He started to go into details and such and I stopped him. I didn’t want or need to know. I loved those 5 guys and didn’t want any information to cloud that love. I knew enough.

Literally 30 minutes later, my father called.  My friend Matt, whom I have never NOT known, had had some medical issues over the weekend and they got the tests back that day. He had liver cancer. Well, more precisely, he had pancreatic cancer that had spread to his liver.  All of a sudden I wanted to know all the band drama, just so I could occupy my mind with anything but this. 

Matt was 29. Married to an amazing woman. Father to two crazy boys. From what I understood at that point, he also now had a death sentence. I instantly went into my boss and said I needed to take a few days off to go to Michigan. All I said was, “Matt has cancer. I need to go.” She didn’t ask any questions.

I ended up leaving town early Thursday, March 20. In between Tuesday and when I left, the US had gotten ourselves in a war. Well, another war. This time with Iraq. I remember watching them drop the first bombs on Baghdad and just being numb. I didn’t really know why we were dropping bombs. Yeah, Sadaam Hussein was a terrible person who was doing terrible things to his people. He also happened to have a fleeting resemblance to the people who attacked the US 19 months earlier. But, to this day, I don’t REALLY know why we got into this.

I thought of all the guys I knew in the Marines from back in my “barracks bunny” days. How many of them were over there? Did THEY know why the bombs were dropping?

As I drove toward Michigan I kept crying and crying and crying. Not for the Iraqis, but for Matt. And his wife. And his boys. And his parents, who were my second parents. And all the people who knew him. He was just that kind of guy.

Meridian in Indianapolis is one of my favorite parts of the drive to Michigan. All the big, beautiful old homes built with insurance money. Not ostentatious, simply lovely. This particular drive down Meridian wasn’t my favorite. I decided to listen to NPR. At this point it was wall to wall cover of Iraq. I was literally listening to the war unfold in my red  99 Saturn and it was the best thing I could have listened to.

I was awestruck by the fact that  I was living in a time of war. I was living in a time when things I loved sometimes went away. I was living in a time where the one person that I had known my whole life, was possibly dying. But somehow, with all of that realization, the war soothed my mind. Having something as foreign to my thinking as listening to real bombs dropping on real people made so much more sense to me then cancer. Any cancer. Particularly Matt’s cancer.

My friendship with Matt is an amazing thing. Our parents were/are best friends and we were pretty much expected to follow their lead. And we did. I could go for months, years even without seeing him and within about 2 seconds of being together, it was like no time had passed. I understood how special he was in my life, which made his illness so much harder.

When I finally made it to Niles, I really can’t remember what I did first.  Probably drove out to Barron Lake to Matt’s parent’s house. My dad had been staying there for a few days. That house has only happy memories associated with it. Everytime I was there was for a celebration, planned or not. This time it was different. When I saw Matt’s parents we hugged like we always do, but it was so much more meaningful this time. We didn’t talk about what had brought me there.

The next day we went over to Matt’s house. At this point I had had some discussions with his Mom and Dad about things. His mom gave me medical details and such. His dad just talked about how wrong it was that this was happening. This wasn’t normal. His dad was always the detail guy, his mom the emotional one. It was a whole new world we were living in.

When I walked into Matt’s house, he was sitting on the couch. He didn’t look terrible, but he didn’t look good either. We had been so excited when he went from a gangly boy to a filled out man in college. There I was looking at a gangly man. We just hugged each other for a really long time. I told him I was glad I was there. He said he was pissed I was there and laughed. His laughter took a huge weight off my chest. My friend Erin had driven in from Chicago to come and talk to Matt and to be there for me. She had a lot of experience with different cancer treatments, etc. through her work. I have known her since first grade. I had always imagined Matt and Erin meeting. I hated that this is what made that happen.

We had a normal dinner. Played trivial pursuit. Talked about what the next steps were in the treatment. Just a normal night, sort of. Erin drove home that night and I made plans to come back over, just me, the next day.

Matt had been dating Angie for 2 weeks when I met her. She came up to me at his parent’s 25th Anniversary Party and said “so, you’re the first girl he ever saw naked huh?” I loved her instantly. She grilled me that whole night about him. She wanted to know it all. At one point at the bar she came in close and whispered in my ear “I’m gonna marry that boy, just so you know.” She did marry him almost 2 years later and it was one of the most perfect unions I had ever been a witness to.

Sitting in the rec room of their split level in South Bend, I kept thinking of the night we met, and their wedding, and how we both had joked that we always wanted a sister and now felt like we had one. I thought of this as she told me how she had to physically take Matt’s records out of the oncologist’s hands and see the post it note that said “Too many and too big” on the report about the possibility of removing the tumors on his liver. I held her hand while she talked about trying to figure out how she was going to raise 2 boys by herself. She was just saying all of the things that she couldn’t say to Matt, or his parents, or her parents or anyone. I was so glad I was there for that. We both sat there and just bawled for awhile. Matt came down in the middle of this and quickly ran back up the stairs which made us both laugh while we cried.

I left late that evening after dinner and some more board games. As I hugged Matt he whispered, “Sorry I fucked up New Orleans.” I choked as I was once again laughing while crying. At our 21st birthday celebration in Las Vegas, we had decided that for our 30th, it would be The Big Easy. That just wasn’t going to happen now.

They jumped on his treatment like crazy people. Helps that Angie was a nurse, a tenacious nurse that wouldn’t take no for an answer. A few months later the tumors in his liver were shrinking due to a procedure that cut off blood flow to them. It turned out his pancreatic cancer was never going to be a real issue and that he had probably had it for awhile.

That next summer, Angie planned a surprise birthday party for him. It was a few months before his birthday, which helped with the surprise. My mom flew in from California. Matt’s good friend flew in from Texas. I drove up from Nashville. He never had a clue. He didn’t even know what hit him when he drove up to his in-laws place. We didn’t know what hit us either. He had gained back a lot of his weight and looked great. I couldn’t stop hugging him. I smiled so hard it hurt.  He wasn’t out of the woods yet, but some sunlight was shining through.

I got a call from him this past weekend. His doctor gave him the all clear. No longer would he be going to the oncologist every few months, just once a year. He was in complete remission.

The band never got back together. We’re still at war in Iraq (what exactly do we “win” with that one?). But Matt is alive and healthy. So, as far as my little world is concerned, these have been 5 productive years.

I’ve got the Austin itch….

Don’t worry,  it’s  not some strange disease that stems from too much Shiner Bock, queso dip and swimming in Barton Springs. It may be contagious though.

I want to go to Austin so bad I can’t stand it. It is one of my favorite places on the planet. I can honestly say that arriving in Austin makes me happier then arriving in any other city. NYC has some power over me, but nothing like Austin. You get off the plane there and you are greeted with live music and taco carts, even in the morning….AHH breakfast tacos, *sigh* You go out and grab a tacky turquoise cab courtesy of Roy’s Taxi and the adventure begins.

The last time I was in Austin, I arrived at 2:30 in the afternoon on a Friday.  I picked up a rental car and drove towards Zilker Park.  I remembered there was a Whataburger right there and stopped to get some grub.  Took my burger to the picnic tables by Barton Springs and just sat there, ate and smiled. The late March air was warm and sweet and intoxicating. After a walk around the park and recalling the last time I was there during the ACL Festival and how it was quite a different place, I hopped back in the car and set off to drive. I just drove and drove and drove. I got caught in rush hour on Capital of Texas Highway and even that made me happy.

After my hours long driving around Austin, I parked near La Zona Rosa, my ultimate destination to watch the live recording of my favorite band’s new live record.  Since it was so close to Sixth Street, I set out just walking around and ended up needing a cocktail. I strolled into Katz’s Deli and hopped into a seat at the bar. The bartender was just starting her shift and was in the lovely mood that I come to expect in Austin. There are no strangers there. There are some strange folks, but they only add to the happiness. So I ordered my Tito’s and Tonic and we started chatting. She opened a fresh bottle of Tito’s for me and we talked about how awesome it is that this great vodka was made right there in Austin and how H.E.B had some great juices to use as mixers with it. Good times.

Once I was nicely “titoed up” I strolled a couple of blocks over to La Zona Rosa. Reckless Kelly is a huge reason I love Austin. I have met some great folks through them and they are some of the sweetest and most fun guys you will ever know, musician or not. The crowd that night was thick with die hard fans. Folks were there from California, Florida and even England. That is how beloved they are!  Luckily I had met some “Millicaners” earlier and they saved me a spot up front by Cody, where I always like to be!  The show, well, it rocked. Nearly two years later and I am still trying to understand the wonderfulness of that night.

After the show and some post show drinking at the bar next door, the party moved to “The Shed”–if you are an RK fan, you know what that means. The party continued until all hours of the morning. I had a 7 am flight, so I had to leave around 5:30 and as I walked out there were people who were just arriving.

So—even though I spent only 17 hours in town….it was glorious.

But I didn’t get to have migas, or Amy’s Guiness Ice Cream. I didn’t get to go shopping on South Congress. I didn’t bar hop on Sixth Street. I didn’t swim in Barton Springs or see the bats. I didn’t get to have late morning coffee at Mozarts’s on Lake Austin or go shopping at Central Market. I didn’t get a stomach ache from too much Sweet Leaf Organic Mint & Honey Green tea or take a short trip to eat meat at Kreuz’s 
in Lockhart. All of these are reasons that I must go back. I must go back to Austin soon. I would love to take a road trip there with a couple of girlfriends (to help me look at all the cute Texas boys) and Noodle (because he would LOVE it there) and just hang out for a couple of weeks. Being cool, even though it’s almost always hot there. Eating good food. Talking to great people and just remembering that this is one of the best cities on the planet.

However, for what it’s worth, Nashville will always be home……..

“If I know what love is, it is because of you.”….Herman Hesse

One year ago today, I was living my life. Loving my new job. Thrilled to be out of my old job and feeling as though I was back to being myself, perhaps an even better version of myself then I had been.

That was a Monday. The next day, Tuesday, I looked around the Craigslist pet listings as I was known to do to kill time. For some reason, that day, I decided that I wanted a dog. Well, I had wanted one for awhile, but that day I decided I was going to get one. I wanted a small dog. A purse dog. A dog that I could take with me pretty much wherever I wanted. I came across an add for a Pomeranian/Chihuahua mix. The ad said it was 6 months old, pretty much full grown and up to date on shots. The little picture was the cutest thing I had seen in a long time.

I responded to the ad immediately. Turns out the ad had only been up for like 5 minutes so I was the first call. I made plans to drive to Clarksville that night to “look at” the puppy. Sweet Nikki agreed to go with me and she, Brianna and I piled into the car and drove to Clarksville.

I had made plans to meet the woman in the parking lot of WalMart. After some interesting searching….do you know how many blue mini vans are in the Clarksville WalMart parking lot?…we found her. What I assume to be her daughter brought the puppy out and it was a done deal. I grabbed that little ball of fur, handed over the “adoption fee” gave her my email so she could send me the vet records and then and there, I was a dog mom.

He was so small and furry and snuggly. I couldn’t believe he was mine. We went to PetSmart to get all of his accessories. Here is the first picture I took of him:

The “Nature’s Miracle” package in the background was pure coincidence. We stocked up on his needs and got back in the car to drive home. The whole way home he snuggled up into my neck and eventually fell asleep. It was LOVE!!! Nikki and I tried to come up with names and quite frankly, I can’t remember any of the names we discussed. Out of nowhere, I remembered a dog that a friend of mine had drawn. We joked about making a whole cartoon about this dog and becoming famous. I even “wrote” a theme song. The dog’s name was Noodle. It was perfect. Cute, fun to say, spoke of my love of carbs and just worked.

I finally got home, introduced him to the cats and there I was, Noodle’s mom and my life was more complete then I could have imagined.

Our first week together was a dream. I couldn’t wait to get home to him. He peed on his pee pee pads. He chased the cats. He slept with me and made cute little puppy noises at night. It was ideal. Until I broke him. After exactly one week of being together, he ran out from under a chair and I stepped on his little leg. He made the most horrific noise and my heart broke right there. Eventually I found an emergency vet and off we were. I was bawling my eyes out and he was licking my hand. His concern was my happiness, not his injury.

The first thing I learned at the vet was not the state of his leg, but rather, the fact that the woman who had placed the ad for him was either delusional or a big fat liar. He was only MAYBE 3 months old, no where near full grown and had no sort of Pomeranian OR Chihuahua in him. Not that it mattered at that point, I was in for the long haul. After some x-rays and such, it was determined that he had a broken leg. They brought my little guy out with a big blue cast on. My heart broke all over again. But when he licked my face the second I took him in my arms, I knew it was going to be alright.

He used that cast any way he could. He ran around like a pirate dog with it knocking on the floor. It didn’t slow him down. He would bang it on the floor when I wasn’t paying attention to him. He used it on the cats as a weapon. He would make sure I remembered it was there whenever he was getting in trouble.

As a result of his injury he had a lot of vet trips. As a result of the vet trips, he got to come to the office a lot. He was an instant hit. If you ever start a new job and have trouble meeting folks, bring a little puppy with a broken leg and a great personality in and you will meet everyone. He was the agency mascot. We joked about putting him on the payroll as a “Vice President of Good Moods.” It was great.

About the time his cast came off, he was four months old, which is a good time to determine what size he would be. He weighed about 12 lbs at 4 months, which meant he would be 25-30 lbs when he was full grown. If he was going to be a purse dog, I was going to need a MUCH bigger purse. Friends joked that he wasn’t just “Noodle” anymore….he was more like “Lasagna” but as his size grew, my love for him grew too.

I would like to not come across as a crazy dog lady and hope to go on dates and such, but dammit, I love my dog. Seriously, I can have a horrendous day and as soon as I remember that his furry face is going to greet me as I open the door…it’s all OK.

He’s an amazing listener:

He likes to stay well read:

He protects me:

He’s good on car trips:

He likes ice cream:

He’s not afraid to give me his opinion:

He knows how to enjoy a nice relaxing day on the couch:

He lets me dress him up (but doesn’t alway like it):

But most of all, he makes me super happy and has brought things to my life that I didn’t even know I was missing!:

Happy anniversary my furry friend. I hope to some day be half the person you think I am. I also hope to find the human version of you…..but maybe I should hope for half the human version of you 🙂

“The only way to find true happiness is to risk being completely cut open.”

If the title quote is true….and I believe it to be…does it count if I walk around with a (metaphorical) knife prepared to cut myself wide open at the drop of a hat? Or is it more that I should risk being cut open by someone/something else? I really need to know because the (metaphorical) knife I’ve been wielding lately has become cumbersome and I feel may be scaring people away.

Have you ever found yourself surrounded by a group of people, people who you care deeply about, people who you are pretty sure care about you, and felt completely alone? I had that happen this evening. Friday nights have become something I look forward to lately as a group of us get together and play darts. Tonight was special in that it was one fella’s birthday and I had my own darts that I bought today. All signs would lead to this being a stellar evening.

After my partner and I were eliminated in the first round of the draw…although we gave our opponents a run for their money and I LOVE my darts, the evening took a turn, at least in my mind. I wasn’t really drinking tonight…which is probably why I was so AWARE of things. I felt as though I had become invisible. I would make comments on occasion and try to chat with those around me, but my words seemed to fall on deaf ears. It was like they were looking right through me. Once it was determined that my partner and I were completely out of the draw, I closed my tab and packed up my things. For some reason, as I was saying good-bye, everyone had something to say to me. There were attempts to get me to stay, pleas for me to hang out for just one more beer, etc….But it was too late. I already felt on the outside looking in and no invitation to come in would be enough. In order for me to have stayed there I would have had to had many many drinks very very quickly and I didn’t trust myself to be responsible as the end of the night arrived. I didn’t trust that anyone there would have helped me be responsible either. I felt that if I stuck around more, nothing good would happen.

Had this taken place a year ago, I would have cried uncontrollably the second I left the bar and had a total freak out. With the aid of certain chemicals and a general better outlook on life, I was able to walk away from the situation and chalk it up to not being my night.

You know what really stinks about this whole night? I can trace so much of my angst back to boys. I am so friggin’ tired of having my happiness or lack thereof tied to the males of the species. I mean seriously!!! It is simply not healthy. I would like it if, sometime soon, the planets could align and I would like a guy the same time he likes me. What tends to happen is that I like them, they don’t get it, I get over it and then they like me. Or…and this is much more rare….they like me, I don’t get it, they give up on me and then I like them. It is just so stupid. It’s so juvenile. I love the chase as much as the next girl. I can play hard to get–and deserve an Oscar since I am anything but. But I really don’t want to have to chase or be chased. I want to fall into a comfortable relationship where I don’t feel like I need to read between the lines or anticipate what is coming next. I want to be confident enough in myself in a relationship that I can be confident in him as well. I want someone to hold my hand.

I want someone that I would SO risk being completely cut open for, but know that they never would.

Damn you Chuck Palahniuk and your quotable ass!!!