My mom: she left out a bowl of cheeses; cream, cheddar, and mozzarella for 2 days so I threw it out. She asked me what happened to her cheese bowl and freaked out a little when I told her. To her there was nothing wrong with eating cheese that had been left out for days. I love my mom, but she is crazy.

I fixed my hair. The color looks great but it now feels like straw. I go back to the salon on Tuesday--I think--to get the cut fixed.

I tried running last night, and my stomach is so sore. The rest of me is fine, but all that panting gave my abs a major workout. Training is going to be painful--not that I expected otherwise, but I think I underestimated the pain involved.

It is now 2:10 a.m. and I am officially done with this semester. I just submitted my paper!! 2 hours late, but I am ok with that considering I didn't start back to work on it until noon today.

I just realized I forgot to pick up a prescription that I am out of--I finally got the free meds thing, but I have to pick it up from a specific person who was out of the office when I went to get them yesterday when I ran out of them. I won't be able to get them until Monday. I really, really hop I don't start going through withdrawal. For the life of me, I don't understand why they won't allow the pharmacy to ship the free meds to me instead of the clinic.

I am sleepy.

I signed up to compete in a triathlon here in town--now I have to raise 500 dollars to benefit ALS for the prof at our school. Oh, and I have to learn how to swim and run.

My apartment maintenance man grossed me out today (again). He had to come up to drain my a/c something or another and I wasn't awake when he first came by--I saw him in the parking lot and he told me what he needed. I ended up leaving before he got to my apartment, and as I was getting into my car, he said to me: you mean I won't get to flirt with you in your apartment? What the hell, people? Why did he think this was ok? I am guessing it is because I looked like a schlub--did he think he was doing me a favor, or is this just him being creepy. (same guy that called me a chicken for not wanting to go view an apartment with him) And what the hell was he talking about anyway? He has been in my apartment before, and most of the time I ignore him or hold my dogs so they won't attack him. I made myself feel better by telling myself that I was on my way the beauty parlor and would soon not look so shcluby, but........
My hair is ruined. I sat in the salon for over 4 hours, and they ruined my hair.
Thankfully, my friend arranged an appointment at a nice salon in town. So I only have to walk around like this for 1 day.
Here are some before and after pictures:




Horrible, right? All orange and blonde--I asked for a lighter brown than I currently had. I guess that equals shitty dye job.
Even worse, I tipped the girl 50%. It was an accident--I was so frazzled and freaked out by my hair that I couldn't remember how to come up with 20%--the usual way I do it is to double the total, but for some reason, I halved the total. I kept thinking the tip was really expensive and when I passed the receipt to the cashier, she said: she will really appreciate this. I realized then that I screwed up, but I wasn't about to ask for the ticket back.

And I did not get the job I interviewed for--just an all around crappy day. I really hate interviewing for jobs in this town--I never get the job. I cannot figure out why. I hate this town. I hate my maintenance man. And I hate my hair. And I want a job.

You know how I love 80s sitcoms, right? Well, it has taken me 20 years, but I have figured out that all of these sitcoms have gimmicks. I finished watching season 1 of Charles in Charge, and the brilliant gimmick on that show is to have the kids speak in unison--and they aren't saying things that you and a sibling or you and a friend might reasonably say at the same time like: who's zooming who, or tuffu*. And they don't even say "jinx" after they say these long phrases in unison--they aren't even trying to be realistic! Why don't they just burst into song or have a leprechaun that speaks to Charles and gives him child-rearing advice?

I prefer the unison thing to stories about winning the lottery and then losing the tickets--why does every stinking show think they will be the one show to make this lame story line amusing? (I'm talking to you, Friends.)
Oh, I meant gimmicks beyond the normal sitcom--my child is a robot--gimmick.
And I will admit to you that I have been practicing singing the harmony part to the Charles in Charge theme song--so Essie, you better be practicing because you will be singing the melody at this Christmas' family talent show.

I remembered what I wanted to tell you about the dating sites-I noticed that the women on those sites seemed to have much lower standards than the men. For example, there were men on there that actually said: no fat chicks, and then there were women with great jobs and great physical attributes that said their ideal men just had to have jobs. You could look and see what education level their ideal date would have achieved, and I was surprised by the number of women who just required "some college"--these were women in grad programs or women who had already obtained their grad degree. Why????

For the record, I cannot date someone without a college degree--and I would rather not date someone without a grad degree. And no divorced men, no one with kids (I'll make an exception for robot children), and no moustaches. And in a dream world, no one with cats. And he would not smoke--actually this is now a must, I refuse to die from second hand smoke. Sometimes I have dreams that I still smoke, and my reaction in the dream is always: oh, crap, I thought I quit and yet here I am smoking.

Hey look, here's my cute dog:



*tore up from the floor up--pronounced too-foo

I mentioned this blog to some people and although I am fairly certain they will forget the name of it and leave me to my anonymity, I decided to go back and read over everything I have written to make sure I didn't write anything about them. I did in fact write about one of them, but not by name. But more importantly, I am a great big whiny baby. How can anyone stand to read this crap?

They don't call them vanity blogs for nothing--it's all boo hoo poor little me. Not that I plan on changing anything. I just want it known that I know I am a whiny baby because it always annoys me when someone is acting like a jackass but is totally oblivious to their own jackassery. I am aware of my jackassery.

I kn0w there was a time last year or maybe the year before when I was obsessed with Scott Baio--but I think everyone is aware that I was never in love with him, right?
Netflix sent me the first 2 discs of Charles in Charge, and I realized I never had a crush on him. He is quite odd looking to me. So why did he become such the ladies man? We all know by now that Pam Anderson has no taste, but he was in Tigerbeat, and they are usually on the money. Fess up, who had a crush on Scott Baio?

Last night I had dinner with my friend--my nutty live in the moment friend and we followed a tour-bus to Wendy's on the chance it contained actual super-stars. It did not. It contained middle aged pasty, doughy white men. I am the opposite of smooth, so when we were ordering sodas, I asked Ashley in a horrible stage whisper--I wonder what the tour bus outside is for. (The only other people inside Wendy's at this time were the middle aged men that came off the bus). I gave them the perfect opportunity to say: well, we are the reason for the bus--at which point Ashley and I were going to commiserate with the pain of fame by claiming to be famous Christmas carolers--kind of like those creepy chicks in the group called "Celtic Woman" of PBS fame.
But, the men did not take the bait. It may have been because I had the giggles, and perhaps also because they saw us following them--we made a sharp turn on 2 wheels across 6 lanes of traffic just to catch up to them and then got right on their bumper. It was totally worth it.

Also, my friend mentioned some law school students were on match.com, so I went home and checked it out--you should too. I totally got the creeps. And--you should also look at the women--there is a fellow law student on there with the initials B.H.

Here's what I found fascinating: everyone I knew lied on their profiles--they all said social drinkers, 1-2 drinks per week. Lie: binge drinker/alcoholics every one of them. And, all of the law students were loud and proud about the fact they were in law school. True it is easier than saying I am a grad student, because it is a little different, but still interesting. And looking at other profiles, the lawyers on there were also very loud and proud about their jobs.

I have more to say about the things I discovered on match.com, but I have to go to therapy now.

Saudade

I decided to end all contact with the ex. Turns out he has been a very busy boy--3 sex partners in the past 4 months. Totally shattered my image of him. I don't think it can ever be repaired. He's just not the man I thought he was, and I could never trust him again--not even as a friend.

This decision (to cease contact) is intended to end the pain I inevitably feel every couple of months with him but it comes with its own pain. I think he is super talented and smart. We like the same music, he makes me laugh. He can be very sweet. I flat out like him. But I had to do a cost-benefit analysis, and the cost was simply too high for me. I feel pain in losing him, and I will feel pain in the future when I think about him, but that pain has a sweetness to it--nostalgia over the good things I remember and the things I wish I could share with him. The pain I feel when I have him in my life is a body searing, heart ripping pain--my body flushes hot and I feel bad. It was this type of pain that caused me to vomit for nearly 12 hours yesterday. This is the pain that comes from realizing the person you have adored does not exist--the pain that comes from knowing you will never have the fantasy relationship with this person--the pain of knowing you are not wanted/desired/loved/cherished by this person in the way you deserve to be wanted/desired/loved/cherished. This pain costs too much. That is why I am choosing the sweet pain of a lost love. I choose to remember him as a guy that I just couldn't be with, and I know if I continued a friendship with him, I would end up hating him even more than I already do.

Today is Lily's birthday. We celebrated her 4th birthday by eating crackers--I have been throwing up all day, so it was a cracker party.
I'll send her your love.

I talked to my sister who always knows what to say to me, and she helped me realize that one of the reasons I got so upset by the ex's failure to disclose to me his new relationship is because it is the exact same thing he used to do when we were dating that drove me bananas. He would keep things from me--and then say he did it to protect my feelings. The truth is, he probably did have that in mind, but that is not his role--that is a parent's role. I have all the parents I need.

I also wonder if he had selfish reasons for not telling me--in September when that message was written, I was still under the delusion that we could be together. 1 in the hand 2 in the bush, perhaps? Or just avoiding a scene, or trying to keep me in his life period. But that begs the question--what role am I playing in his life? Not a friend, because friends share these things---although I may have requested non-disclosure now that I think about it. So maybe I am a jerk for getting mad when I requested no information on his dating life.

No, I am still upset. Because there is dishonesty to me in having whatever we had this summer and then jumping into bed with someone else. I firmly believe you should be over someone before getting under someone new--and every time I hear of overlap--even when it doesn't involve me, I get angry.

Again, back to the role I play. Am I just the ego booster?
And what role does he play in my life? I don't have a ready answer, but like I told my sister, I intend to use this anger in a positive way. There is no sense in being angry at him--he acted totally consistent with his past behavior, so there is no disbelief element--maybe disbelief that I acted the way I did. Why in the world did I want to be with him so badly?

I don't intend to put him down, but if he wasn't all about me, why was I all about him?
I think this is where the pain I am feeling is coming from--I cannot continue to lie to myself. His dating someone else a month after he left town is totally inconsistent with the lie I was telling myself: the lie that he had the same intense feelings for me that I had for him.

There is the lie, and I told it, so I guess I just have me to be upset with. I'm trying not to beat myself up--that does nothing but tear myself down and I need to build myself up.

ok. This was a stream of conscious type entry. End result: he acted consistently based upon previous experiences and that behavior was inconsistent with the version of him in my mind. Now, what to do about it?
I have already deleted his phone number, and 900+ emails. And I am about to take to the dumpster all of the craft projects I have been working on for him. I think that takes care of everything.

My question to the world is, am I being over-reactive by deleting someone from my life based on something they did 3 months ago--something that was motivated by their natural need to want to be with someone, and the non-disclosure of which I requested. Or, is the realization that I created a version of person that was not based in reality enough of a justification to walk away from someone forever?
I already experienced something similar with a female, non-romantic friend this fall, and I came to the conclusion that if I would not be friends with the reality based version of a person, then I should not continue a friendship with that person in the hopes that the person would suddenly manifest into my fantasy based version of that person. Did I just answer my own question?
I guess all I can say is the same thing I told my female friend this fall: I like him, I just like me more.
Being friends with an ex is not easy, and it may not always be the best idea. If I am reacting this strongly--maybe extracting myself from the situation is the best idea. Right?
Besides, he will just get mad if he reads this anyway--because I asked him not to tell me.

I know this is long, but mostly I am just thinking it out.
If we are having the same kind of drama as friends that we had as romantic partners, and we determined those dramas meant we should not be romantic partners, then it is reasonable that we should not be friends either. Just logical reasoning.

So, I need to try to be more realistic--and stop creating fantasies in my head of how people are/feel about me. I think all of this makes sense. I feel embarrassed about the way I felt this summer--embarrassed that I was so needy and "confessed my love" when all the while he was boning some other chick. So maybe my desire to rid all traces of his existence has less to do with being mad at him for boning someone else and more to do with my embarrassment of not being wanted---and being so blind to the fact that I wasn't wanted. It makes me feel like a loser--and it definitely reminds me of adolescence. Don't make me tell you the story about one of my crushes calling me up--getting my hopes all up in the air--only to ask me about my older, hotter sister.

You know what I really hate? I hate being lied to, and when I find out I have been lied to--be it a lie told to me 5 minutes ago or 5 months ago, I react strongly.
I decided to do another check to see if the ex was dead online, and I found something he wrote in some motorcycle forum: on September 13, 2007, 12:53:50 AM
"Now, as for the girl I recently started dating... ugh, I would rather hear the post-mount noises from the GS. And I thought I was a fan of vocal behavior. Since moving here it seems my life has been a veritable whirlwind of deeply disturbing groans."

Where's the lie? Lie by omission--never told me he was dating someone. Probably done to "spare my feelings", but suck my dick--I don't need another person deciding what I can or cannot emotionally handle.

What's the real source of my strong emotion?
Do I really even need to explain?
I think I am the better catch--I am better looking, more in touch with my feelings, way funnier--and aside from taking medication for 2 years for a mental illness I never had and the bad behavior that went along with that--I am just generally a better romantic partner. Yet he is the one having sex. This always happens with the 2 of us. I seriously cannot understand how he gets laid and I don't.
Of course I am jealous. And hurt. And a little disgusted by his public, tacky posting--get a new trade name, I beg you.
And I am annoyed that I snooped (but I have always been a snooper). And I am annoyed that I care.

But, on the upside--I am angry, and great things can happen when I am angry. I have been so blah for the past 5 months--I haven't cared about my appearance or school or making relationships--neither new ones nor fortifying the bonds of existing relationships. But this emotional reaction is just the kick in the pants I needed. I am back in the game, and I intend to win.

I'm off to destroy some things. That sounds a bit more dramatic then I intended--I am off to destroy all evidence of his existence. Still dramatic, but.....

I'm over the self hatred.
Now I just hate people who whisper in the library. I cannot concentrate with all that dang whispering---whisperer ground zero is that obnoxious girl from Sarasota. Did that make sense? All the whispering stems from this one girl--she has actually made the rounds to whisper to her friends.

I feel a little weird about something I did, but I'm hoping I am over-reacting due to the late hour.

And--a 50 year old lesbian has a crush on me. Total bull dyke. She rubs my back and stares at me with a weird little smile. Creepy, right?

Wow. Lily was crying in her crate, so I went in there to check on her and she pooped in her crate, and I think Sophie must have peed on my bed. It didn't smell like pee, but who could tell with the strong poop odor in the room. Since no one in my little family seems to be able to keep their shit together, I guess I can tell you what I did that I am now feeling weird about.

First let me say that my neck is killing me--so that you can maybe say, oh, she may have done xyz, but her neck hurt. We all know neck pain can make you do silly things.

It really isn't that bad. I tried calling the most recent ex yesterday when I was avoiding studying. He didn't answer--no problem. On my way to the library tonight, I got stuck in traffic due to some holiday thing going on downtown--lot of road blocks..I had to park a few blocks away from the library. This kind of thing drives me nuts because I am convinced the world is plotting against my study time. So I called the ex again--no answer. I call his cell phone--no answer.

When I am in the middle of finals, I find tons of stuff to occupy my time, and obsessive thoughts are the norm. I decide the ex is either dead or with a new lady friend. Obviously, I prefer the latter. I knew I had the potential to obsess over this, so I decided to nip it in the bud. I deleted all of his phone numbers from my cell phone--I didn't want to keep calling him, because if the latter is the reason for his reticence, he obviously doesn't want my number burning up his line. And if he is dead, I won't need the numbers anymore anyway.

I returned home and started to play on the internet, and although I tried to talk myself out of it (out loud I might add) I googled his livejournal name so I could check his entry calendar to see if he made an entry recently--just to confirm he is alive (I can't read his journal, but livejournal makes me feel bad inside so I avoid it.) I'm guessing he is alive as he made an entry a couple of days ago. While doing the google, I see he has a dating profile under the same name. I check it out--I have to log in to see it. No problem. Since he now has proof that I looked at his profile (because he has it set up that way) I decided to leave a comment on his profile. Just basically saying he's funny and such. And while I was writing it, I was aware that he may very well be on a date with a girl from this site, so I didn't want to pimp him out too hard because he may not need it (and my pimping always works). And I wanted to send the message to him that I just happened to decide to check out his profile because I was curious NOT because I am a stalker and I am the cool ex who is totally fine with us both moving on and look, here's proof of how totally fine I am with it all, I will write a message to the women of the world recommending you as a partner.

So that is what I did and why I did it and now you can feel weird just like I do.
It is now after 3 and I think it's time for some 3's company to chase the weirdness and insomnia away--providing my bedroom no longer smells like a circus.

And for the record, I am fine with moving on. Mostly. I just hate it when the other person moves towards another person faster than I do. I am trying to remind myself that it is not a reflection of my worth, and if I really wanted to, I could totally be making it with a 50 year old bull dyke. And possibly an albino with eczema.
I have options--hot, sexy options.