Friday, October 7, 2011

The Day After The Talk

It started out as a pretty much an argument, and ended with a hug and hearing Kara cry.  He seems like he's really willing to leave, to be pretty positive about it (though it hasn't even been 24 hours and I've had mistrust of his 'epiphanies' beat into me) and we came to a tentative hashed out agreement about Kara.  We care about each other, but we're driving each other nuts.  And all the while Frank is on my mind... Always worrying that he come to the conclusion that he's 'done'... And Kurt's threats to kill him, wait for us to come home from a date with a bat, leave me scared but indignant, and somewhat devastated.  Frank is all I want.  I'm not sure I could have gotten to this point without him, and, as far as I'm concerned, we are still unfinished.

He's not here today, which is making me sad and feel a little desparate with a three day weekend looming... a hard three day weekend, with Kurt supposedly moving out, dealing with Kara.  I left a message on his phone to call me at the lab this morning, 3:47 and still nothing. Now: should i try him again? ...or leave it be.  Still the chest-tightening frustration that all weekend, I can't call or text... AAAH KURT! I HATE YOU!!

I mentioned getting the phones into separate accounts and Kurt said, 'well, we don't have to do that right away, that's just going to be one big bill.' and he's right.  I will be $20 dollars more a month to have separate bills.  But privacy plus the ability to contact Francisco? Priceless. Truly priceless.  I fear I may be pining this weekend, but hopefully, if Kurt stays motivated and gets some good forward  momentum going, I will be happier on Tuesday when I see Frank again and have some good news for him.  Though I'm frustrated because I know I will finally have some time to myself this weekend and won't be able to see him, which is what I want (I mean honestly) more than anything else, I am hopefull... seeing light, life and love on the horizon.

3:55.  He tends to flake... I'm going to try him.
... no answer.  ??? My heart is squeezed. It may be best I have my thoughts to myself this weekend as everything goes down.  I am not leaving Kurt to go to someone else, I am leaving him to be alone, to be me.  "You need time to get back to you.'  I know it, I just have to live it now.

Thursday, September 29, 2011

Today: Could this be the beginning of the last day?

Kurt came for lunch, brought sushi, and we ate in the cafeteria.  Short because of R's hissy fit.  I had called F earlier because I figured, correctly that he would want to get me to go again... I promised Friday, tomorrow.  I told him (a lie) K need to get his parent badge (which he does eventually).  With Kurt being so 'nice' it makes it hard.  I'm thinking its too soon to tell how F really feels about me (I'm getting signs I am entering fuckdoll status) while thinking he's all I really want.
I want to replay his texts today, they may seem more revealing when I am unswooned. Right now I have a huge crush on him and not just on his body or his skin or the way he moves, but his sense of goofy erratic sense of humor, his mood swings, his sense of himself, his willingness to listen, to learn, his curiosity, his brain... his heritage, his life history, his mostly dead hope, his erratic exuberance over simplicity.

Booo.
Spooky. Where'd you go for lunch?
Chik fila
It was good
How did parent thing go?
He should be good...
Cool
I'm having a hard time with him. My frustration is showing when I think it would be better to have patience
U should have sex and wine!
Remember your theory about dating two guys and by the third one MAYBE I'd be 'ready'?
Wat about it?
I can't wait to prove u wrong. I'm not against ur sex and wine theory. Hence my frustration.
Huh?
I'm lost ...
Haha! Sorry.
Sorry for wat?
Now im really lost lol
Losing you. Can I call u?
(I had tried to call him a few texts before but he didn't answer the phone.  No more in answer to my question...)
Ur frustrated about sex n wine?
Yes!
Hahaha been awhile eh?
U like red or white wine?
White lol.
Crazy monkee sex or boring human kind?
Who cares?!
lol ..
I feel stuck
They have toys for that u know ...
Lol i knew you would say something stupid! ...for unsticking me?
I don't want a toy!
I think I need to stop bothering you!
lol ..
Dont have a panic attack now ..
Wat do you want?
I want a new list of frustrations
It never ends ...
I want to prove your theory wrong too
I realize that
U ar stressed out, ya need to release some ...
How ya gonna do that ?
How u gonna prove my theory wrong?
Its not how its when.
Timing is everything .. But don't forget not everyone is on the same clock u ar ....
I realize that too. I'm discouraged by my own devotion to the virtue of patience.
And kindness! I'm so full of shit! lol!
lol
U ar sexually frustrated thats all ..
That's all?
I can relieve ur frustration not sure about ya stress lol
You're ready to open ur psychotherapy practice
lol
U can be my first client
U can be my first client
U can't be my fixer!
I'm my own fixer. I'm better off at the toy shop!
I think maybe YOU need help.
LoL
I think you need wine
What happened to sex? lol!
Wine will take care of that 'm

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

After a horrible night with Kurt...

I'm at work, after a horrible yesterday with Robin -who probably unwisely has been my biggest confidante through all this- waiting for Francisco to contact me.  After all the sex bullshit yesterday I am feeling weak ground.  And tossed and turned at night thinking of him, ('yes, I want you too, but...'), I realized that I'm not mad at him for it.  I'm not mad at him.  For not coming by yesterday, for stopping in mid-conversation to talk to a young, pretty, happy blonde girl, for not calling, for all the(handful of) times he said he would come by, contact me but didn't.  Not mad.  A little frustrated.  I'm still crazy about him.  I still love him.  I still want him to be my life. I still want a chance with him.
Will he call me, text me, email me, something me today? The ultimate would be stopping by. Stopping by would be the hardest for him and the biggest gesture.  Will he? do anything? Or will I, at the end of the day, feeling defeated, stop to see him?  Knowing I am easy to push out of mind, not sure if it is the situation pushing back at him or a feeling of mediocre, not-quite-fitting importance.
I want to go to him because I need someone to talk to about what's going on, because I want to feel his concern, his compassion... let me see his strength, let it strengthen me as I go through this awful excruciating time in my life, let it calm the doubts that he could handle me completely, closely even after all this toxic 'drama' and reassure me that after all this is through there is no good reason that he and I could not be happy together.  I love him so.  He is unique... I will never 'get over' him.

Kurt cut himself yesterday.  Things aren't truly going well anyway. (How could they? I know I don't love him, and though I am open to seeing if he will ever move my heart, I need to be sure! and I am beginning to fall for someone else.)  Cut himself bad.  Like MUTILATED his leg.  And showed me.  Made me see the bloody towel.  Jealousy.  A barely perceptible attempt to hold back.

A 'you alive !!' text. ...want to do lunch again.  Maybe he does love me. Ha.
 Decided to stop by, Tara Price was there...? Marriage problems? I'm wondering about if she had just popped in like I do. She didn't know about going to lunch.  I copped out of going to Jalapenos, I really wanted to talk to him, or see if I could, about my 'situation' and that I was having 'issues day' and see if he could offer me any... anything. ...maybe a phone call later? or I could use my break to sit with him? A girl is allowed to dream right?
...he's so cute. 'Just go! won't be fun without you now lol. grr' response (I'm unsure about the wisdom of): 'Sorry. I'm having 'issues day'. That's no fun anyway.' Letting know I'm having a bad day is okay I guess.  Sort of a test line. We'll see.

Texting texting texting as he's waiting for Chris to go to lunch.  Kurt called while texting, the cutting has me pretty freaked... more texting.  the texting makes me happy. I can't get the image of Kurt's sliced up leg out of my mind.  Robin's ignoring me.  I'm hating her -just enough. (She came to his cube to get me yesterday all exasperated. Drama.) Now issues day has become he's 'kinda' having one too and now after I recommend hugs, 'I think you should hug me !!' then he 'went weird' and I texted him so.  Mistake? Could we talk it out eventually? I don't know but I hope so.  'Depends how good your pineapple is'.  The sexual innuendo is not me anyway, but when you're looking for more, much much more, its sad and annoying.  Even more so on 'issues day'.  He just (may<-hopehopesillyhope) have a lusty crush on me.  Could he have a tiny spark of an idea that I could be 'the one'?  When it comes down to how good my pineapple is and he should have rights like victoria has secrets: I just can't really believe so.  ...then again, he is a man...
'Only ur pineapples'. Which oddly enough, with all my 'I hate being looked up and down and immediately thought of as a fuck doll' issues, I immediately think of the devotion implied in his innuendo.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Our most basic emotional need: To BE loved

Recognizing the “in-love” experience for what it is- a temporary emotional high-and now pursuing “real love”. The kind of LOVE that is emotional in nature but not obsessional. It is a love that unites reason and emotion. It involves an act of the will and requires discipline, and it recognizes the need for personal growth. Our most basic emotional need is not to fall in love but to be genuinely loved by another, to know LOVE that grows out of reason and choice, not instinct. - The 5 Love Languages
 From TP's tumblr...

Dear Frank,
 I don't seek to be in love with you (though I am)... I am seeking to to love you and be loved by you.  I know, I am certain that I could love you, that I could make you happy, when I am able to... I am not certain that you want to, or are able to (could), love me.  And that truly is what I had wanted from the beginning, from before the beginning, to be loved by you.  By you in your unique way, your exuberant way.  I remember thinking, 'how nice would it be to be greeted by him everyday with such happiness?' That was the dream I had.  I still haven't let it go.  I know what I am looking for now, this idea, sparked by you, but perhaps I need to look in a different direction.  I will always love you, I know.  I am not willing to start something where I feel sure that I will go through more hurt.

Friday, September 16, 2011

Another talk

Another long (break-forfeitting) amazing calming heart-grounding talk.  But.  I didn't mention Wednesday.  The talk was too immersed with deep goodness to regret.  Falling for him even more. (Could I already be in love? Could I already know he will be my life-long?)
Now Kurt.  He is sad. The reality of where we are is out, the challenge of where we can be has been hinted at.  Me, Him & Kara.  I want to see Frank, to let him take me... I want to be able to talk to him this weekend.  "Is it okay if I call...?"  The inevitably long minutes will show on the phone bill, if, when he checks.  A long weekend without my friend. (This morning, driving in looking for his jeep, "Oh he must not be here..." "Who?Who's not here mommy?" "Um, my friend Frank." "Aw, mommy, maybe you will see your friend tomorrow."  So sweet little girly.)
Such a difficult thing to work out, and with Kurt sad, maybe hoping there's a way for us, testing him with 'seeing other people' rules could be devastating to our best possible outcome. Kara's Happiness, my Happiness.
But I want him now, to settle into him, for us to start our lives together, start wrapping our minds around each other and seeing things from dual perspective.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

to picture anyone else...

The perfect beautiful bubble has burst. My 'sign' came, and it basically said stop.  After tuning me out, he forgot about me.  A few too many distractions and 'poof!' its like I don't exist.  I was devastated, after it sunk in -such a beautiful dream I clung to had to die hard & its hard right now to picture anyone else in my imaginary happy heart.  I'm afraid I'll never feel the same way about him as I did.
I waited like an idiot, feeling special, lucky, adoring how he thought he 'had to just come say goodbye', 'twenty minutes is still twenty minutes.' a short 'bye', hanging up the phone a leaving.  Not so much. Waited. Let Yvonne and Mai know to alleviate some weirdness... went to the door and looked down the hall (writing this out is so sad)  I have to leave and get Kara for her dentist appointment, but can just wait another minute... where is he? ...is he okay? is something wrong? I wonder what happened. I walked out the door and down the hall, pretty sure I would run into him, through the servers, out the door, past the break area... there's no way he could be at his desk. explanation then 'bye'. Sitting there.  Messaging, smiling.  Nothing. 'hey'. smiling. No explanation.  'Say goodbye.' Took my hand, have a good night, 'here's a note for you, read that later.' Walked away. Stunned. Shoving it away. Don't think.  The note just said,'Frank 000-000-0000 If you ever just want to let off some steam'  Let off some steam irritated me after I looked at again later.  What wrong with the word 'talk'?! Talk is a perfect word for what I need, why couldn't he use it? 'let off some stream' sounds like a booty call. I considered ripping up the note.  'I'll call him when this all gets rectified, he'll have to give it to me again'...
I needed that not to happen.  I was crushed.  It only took three days for him to start tuning me out, taking me for granted and fail to follow through on a fucking simple promise.  I will not ignore you red flag.  To be in tears over someone after only three days of talking is not good.  Its not right.  He knows (Monday's long, hour? long talk, so perfect, so comfortable -I couldn't wait to tell him how wonderfully, uniquely, bizzarely easy to talk to he is) the fragile situation I'm in, if you want me to give you the love I feel and I know you need, you know to be careful with my heart.
So, in me, it feels over.  I'm grieving.  Attempting to not talk to him today (see if he realizes, I think he doesn't even realize what's happened, which, in a way makes it worse) and dreading running into him again.  Unless... he comes looking for me.  And shows me, and asks me, and wants me... I could die.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

He didn't hesitate... and asked me out.

Before I flesh out the hows and whats, I need to do this:

I'm worried that I'm pushing something along, albeit inch by inch, that I'm not sure I may want stopped.
He gets 'giddy', and I guess I've used the word 'exuberant' before, which is adorable, and 'joyful', which is awesome and inspiring -and good to be around.  But all this, I'm sure, could wear on a low key girl... like me.  I'd hate to feel annoyance and regret at his happy over-reactions, and I'd hate for him to feel the pain of my changed regard for him.  I don't want to be pushed, but how will this happen if he doesn't let me know what wants and how he feels.  In my love story, I'm not sure I want to be the one blatantly putting myself out there.  I need to be convinced.  I know I need to open to convincing for that to happen.  And besides all this, I'm not ready, my situation is not ready for him.  I want this, but I want it slowly.  I want to talk.  I not only need the friendship right now (remember how frustrated I was that Kurt didn't want to talk to me about Rob? It was to the point of hurtful: this is what I'm going through right now, don't you care?), I truly want the friendship for my 'love story'.  Now that I think about it, its absolutely essential.
He asked me out.  I need time to process this, and to be mindful and aware of the huge changes happening in my life right now.  I need to stop indulging -so often- in these (delicious) fantasies.

Friday, September 9, 2011

It's going to be a long weekend

It occured to me last night, as i was endlessly tossing and turning and 'dreaming' (lust tends to take over when I lay down in bed, knowing I'm free of distractions for the night hours... I think of his height, his brown skin, his intense brown eyes... yum. All of it. Yum.) that I wouldn't be seeing him today -he's not usually here on Fridays.  When I hesitated yesterday, when he was 'roaming' out of the elevator, that was me body trying to tell me to stop and talk.  Maybe 'get a fix!'.  Its going to be a long weekend.  -Maybe for him, too.  Funny how I feel bad for him...
I went to his cube... I was a little taken aback that he had left the note there.  But then I considered what he had written on it: Who wrote this note? Sign here (arrow to an open space).  I suspected yesterday in my mental wanderings that he may be an impatient person, the note on the note is a bit of confirmation of that.  Remember when idiotface wrote that long letter asking for essentially 'details': write this, write that, you don't want me to think of you badly do you?  bullshit.  The note on the note made me feel that way to.  Then I thought of him coming in to work early Monday morning and seeing nothing and how that may feel to him.  I'm really not trying to drive him nuts.  Honestly I was thinking he was a grown, mature man who had a firm sense of himself and his life and if he wanted something he would approach me or whatever it was he wanted and go after it.  As you get older, you know you can't make demands of people, you make requests if anything.
I'm out of time, but, I know that I just want to see him in person and talk about why the note, I'm not ashamed of it or the why.
And I can't wait for Monday.  Yes, It's going to be a long weekedn

Thursday, September 8, 2011

End of the Day... and nothing more.

I did run into him this morning, I have to remember that.  All day I've been hoping to see him again so we could talk, get some things out, fix some impressions that may have been made, just be around him.  But only saw him in the stairwell again, again as was walking up as he was walking down, and he gave me an odd sort of tense smile... not a happy to see me smile, guarded maybe.  Maybe I did freak him out.  If the note didn't do it my timid behaviour on the 'bridge' when he came looking for me did.  There's so much I wish I could change about that conversation.  I was 'not cool'.
I'm mad at myself because, hadn't been wanting to talk to him for so long?! Given my chance and I was so in awe that I didn't take it!  There were so many things I wanted to say, but I had also wanted to portray myself as... someone he could talk to, someone he would want to talk to, someone who cared and would listen.
Oh, well. That may be the beginning of the end.  Maybe he had already decided he was done and just had check one more time on the author of the note, just to make sure he really wanted to be done, that he had nothing left for me; and maybe our talk confirmed that for him.  <--silly conjecturing, I know, but I'm actually trying to make myself feel better, I think.  If our 'talking' is over, doesn't that save me the awful awkward conversation where I tell him I have a boyfriend and don't see how I leave him right now? Perhaps even divulging a little how crazy I am about him but that I can't put him before my daughter.
I desperately need to find my zen, now  more than ever.
Patience.
(There another 15 minutes or so left in my day.)

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

I think I may marry him

Well...
I didn't write yesterday after I 'did something weird' (how I put it when I confessed to Robin my latest crush).
I left him the note, in his cube, on his desk.  I spent the rest of the day fretting about what would happen next, how he would take it, if it would creep him out, if it would start something that maybe I couldn't deal with, he couldn't deal with, or if it would be taken simply as a stranger's expression of gratitude (<--this is the one that I used to make it okay to do...)
I was determined to avoid him today.  Not to try to run into him, but still do what I had to do out of the lab, but without lingering.  I wanted at least a day or two to process what I did.  To figure out... I wanted to leave the note as a offering of sincere, pure gratitude, not just to him, but to the universe -appreciating the little moments where I feel safely and exuberantly happy.  I tried to leave it be, I figured wondering if anything would happen and how it would affect him was normal, but I wanted to leave it and just feel good about telling someone how I feel without any expectation -after all, this was a thank you for something that had been given to me.  Bravery in return for bravery.
So anyway... !!! I was walking back to the lab, and I was about to get to the doors the bridge AND   I saw him through the window.  huh?! what's he doing back here?! We talked. a little. Idk, it seems like a stupid conversation now.  I was so nervous -caught off guard again- and again I was, honestly, a coward.  He asked about my daughter and asked if I was married, and I feel awful and ashamed that I didn't say I had a boyfriend.  That must be fixed asap.  It's not right: I wanted to give him hope! I did! But the reality is that there's barely any at all.  No one knowingly wants to make a grotesque Jerry Springer episode out of their life.  He should be able to make an informed decision about wanting to keep trying to talk to me 'another day'.  (That's what he said.  "well, I'll bother you another day." Dude. You are never a bother.) He should be able to decide whether he wants to talk to me again or not, knowing everything, having all the information.  I should have mentioned Kurt.
I thought maybe I would run into him at some point, maybe in a few days, and maybe he would say hi and maybe that would be it, or maybe he would keep seeming down and nothing would happen.  I was going to make myself be okay with that.  I NEVER thought he would come where I had never seen him before... LIKE HE HAD COME LOOKING FOR ME.  I have to admit, I just love that.  His actions are what I need.
Oh. AND. I confessed to Robin the whole Francisco story.  All of it.  And she said the most (surprisingly) encouraging thing anyone could possibly say... "That's such a nice story!"  Robin cares... and can be really great.  Thanks Robin... yeah, it is a nice story.
...he was so cute, the way he was talking to me.  "You're really quiet!" I think he said it twice, it must be frustrating for him.  I was so nervous, getting that frozen feeling the more I tried to talk, I forgot to smile.  I asked his name, told him it was nice meeting you, and held(shook!) his hand.  I adore him.  That's that.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Self-Worth

I feel so disappointed, I let down my heart, and its about to hit home.  I still have a breathless crush on him, though I know I need to let go, let things happen.  But I just ran into him and he seemed so down, so quick to avoid me, avoid eye contact, to say nothing.  It was in the stairwell, he opened the door just as was walking up, said 'hm,' and looked down.  I know I played a part in getting this type of reaction, but it hurts.  That is so different from the guy I fell for and so far from the reasons I fell for him.  I loved that he was so exuberant and happy and now, what and who is this?  Did I do that to him or is he just moody?
I'm trying to, have set determination to, find a balance between stop obsessing and focusing on and examining my life as it is, seeing how I can be better, what I can make better; and the same time keeping a sense of gratitude towards him, not forgetting him completely but finding a way to express appreciation to him for what happiness I've had because of him, what inspiration he's been a catalyst for.
After this morning's run in, I'm pushing away the danger that I may start to feel that perhaps I really don't deserve a good man who is crazy about me and isn't afraid to express it.  The high that that new hope had given me, a hope that felt so close to real, I fear may come crashing down.
I will not be such a coward next time, I will have a solid perspective and remember to always be grateful for anyone who is willing to put themselves out there for me. (even if its just a fleeting crush.)
I need a firmer grasp on my own self-worth.  I may be getting one.  This whole trial may just be a test.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Words with Friends

I ran into him, finally -but after really forcing myself to.  And I knew, as I was wandering around to fullfill my petty calculations that I was hurting myself, losing ground on my dignity, erasing possibilities for mind to believe, and showing, specifically showing him, a sideways glance at a side of myself I am not proud of.
Talking to the blond haired woman again. And someone else.  I think about playing 'words with friends' (ha! put that in your pocket!)
I know now that I'm really looking for, craving, that exuberant excited showering of attention, that 'crazy about you' love.  I want it in excess so that I believe, I want someone, him, to work hard at convincing me.  Love.  True, quiet, bigger than any noise, calming, so sure and so true that there is nothing to do but live it out in utter bliss.
Well, I'm not getting it.  In his corner, its gone.  I cherish those memories, and I believe I always will.  Hopefully in the future without so much bitterness.  My stomach is turned, from seeing him and breaking my own heart with all this highhappy projection.  I would love to be able to apologize to him, and the chance to make it up to him.
I also want to know him.  What made him so brave?  Was that just a part of his personality? Like exuberance could be a personality trait, and any lucky fleeting 'fancy' of his can take it any way they like?
My already destroyed heart is breaking.  I know I have to let him go.  I'm afraid his bravery will come back to him and I won't be there to encourage him, to show him how grateful I am and to feel and take in the joy of it.  I am tired of pushing away joy.
Kurt and I watched an episode of The Office I had never seen, when Jim and Pam get married in Niagara Falls.  I got upset(inside) and teary eyed(outside, ie what Kurt saw), and Kurt said, smiling at me, "are you crying over Jim and Pam's wedding"...  How could he not understand, is the first thing I thought.  I will never have a wedding like that.  Or have someone who I can rest in the conviction of their true love for me.  Or someone I can love 'exuberantly' and passionately and utterly joyfully with no holds barred and no inhibitions or insecurities getting in the way, because I will be completely free of the fear of getting hurt. (by the way, 'getting hurt' does not even begin to describe the feeling I am afraid of. 'getting hurt' sounds paltry and trivial compared to what I have been through and even disrespectful to what I have endured, what I am enduring and what I will endure.
 It occurred to me, after trying to get into the whole 'everything is happening for a reason', 'waiting for something you want is okay if you know its right and it will happen eventually', that maybe and perhaps definitely, I am not ready for him yet.  If he got to know me, my nervousness and awkwardness, clinging, clenching, paralyzed by anticipation and dread and all the hurt that has come before.  With the way I feel now, after walking by him, knowing he was in a conversation and wouldn't talk to me let alone reiterate the 'crazy for you' sentiments that he had -(self-destructive?) I don't think I'm ready.  I don't feel ready. When I'm with him I want to feel confident, free to talk, happy, myself.  I want to be able to take him in and open up to him.  I definitely don't feel that now.
I want to be ready.  Somewhere, in my secret heart, sometimes I even secret way from myself, I believe, I allow myself to hope, that my happy heart life is just around the corner, coming at me, all I have to do is focus and wait and be ready to take it in when it comes.  'Being ready' is key.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

we won't break if we let go

I became a little worried about Frank, I hadn't seen him (at his cube, which I passed when I didn't see him in the first five minutes of the day) and his chair looked untouched, until after noon, when he was at his desk.  I found his number this number and let it ring until I got his voice message and cringed at the sound of his lovely voice.
I've been wondering about whether or not leaving him a thank you doodle is a good idea or not.  Maybe too stalkerish when a lot of other things I'm doing are definitely too stalkerish.  I know that I need to take the opportunity to talk to him and smile the next time I see him, but I'm afraid that I won't and the raging sorrow for the chance at something that would be good for me, make me happy (even if its just the warm light of receiving the positive vibes of a positive guy who has a crush on me and nothing more, let alone an intelligent friendship) will spiral me into a paralyzing depression.

But I always bounce back! I still have dreams... dreams of being healthy, wealthy and wise.
Kurt is as cold and closed off as ever.  The looming question of sex fills me with dread.  Did I mention how awful the weekend of the hurricane was?  I wanted him to look in my eyes and see how hurt I am, how much I need to be loved... And he failed.  Apparently he thinks he has some resentment to hold over me.  Rage.  Bottled, asphyxiating rage.  He is not remorseful for what he did to me, to our relationship.  He is a lazy thinker anyway, working towards loving me again probably seems to be an overly difficult task and not worth the effort.  Thinking about this rips my heart apart all over again.  I always cling to a tiny shred of hope for us, and wind up feeling worthless.  I think about him and what he must see in me: worthless, not worth the effort, much less than who he had in mind for a woman, not deserving of love, deserving pain and a broken heart.
It's just a matter of time before he cheats on me again.  He doesn't have a standard to hold himself to.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lCtKULLcVXY&feature=player_embeddedI found this most beautiful song on tristan prettyman's blog, followed by a serendipitous quote days later:
"I want to beg you, as much as I can, to be patient toward all that is unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue.
Do not seek the answers, which cannot be given to you because you would not be able to live them.
And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.
- Rainer Maria Rilke"

I have to be careful not to get too bitter of what may have been a lost chance at a loved life with a great guy.  It's all just a dream, the affection he felt may be completely gone now, never to return.  And it may have turned out that way even if I was single, open to love, ready to start a life...

I snapped at Kara yesterday morning, like really snapped, because of a potty accident, and I feel absolutely terrible about it.  Of course I can't talk to Kurt about it, he ignores the feelings behind abusive actions... (I tried, we ended up fighting.)  The weekend had been so harrowing and I was so stressed, feeling physically strangled with heartbreak.  Like a wound in my chest.  This poor sweet little girl caught the brunt of my anger at being so sad... I need to get healthy if nothing else for her.  More yoga, running, meditating, breathing, healthy eating, writing, organizing, saving money, clarifying goals, focusing on positivity and openness... for her. She's worth it, it would break me to think that she didn't think so.

I wanted to make sure I mention that I got my first cross-stitch kit in the mail yesterday and started it last night. Actually I wanted to document it, I took pictures I'll post eventually.  I want to 'research' the whole process, how people package their products, the ordering process, notes in the box, both sides of feedback (which I really need to put on my list of things to do). My little whale is coming along and so far I have recognized that doing these embroidered works that I have this idea about is, most of all, tedious.

I also need to get back into doing my 'real' blog again.  I know I need to, and need to just forge ahead (and edit later).  But my self-discipline is lacking -I don't know what's wrong with me.  Yes, I do: I'm depressed.  I may just need this time right now to feel where I am in my life.  To know where I am so I can see clearly, if sadly, where I am coming from and I can bear down for the road ahead.
I always think I have so much free time at my job, and its true, but the mood here is toxic and energy sucking.
I have to fall into trust, and get into my work. The process of my goals.  Get into myself.  Live the questions.  Work at being aware and mindful and look for signs and life-lines.  My love will come.



Friday, August 26, 2011

First Dance

I can't say 'it's getting crazy', because it's been crazy.  A few days ago was the most crazy ever.  Talking about daydream fantasies about F. 
I went back to a blog that I had found earlier this week, this head in the clouds, feet on the ground surfer yoga cali chick, that I had loved and gained inspiration from.  Living an inspired life: mindfulness, love, musician, yoga (a dream for my next life!)  From there I started thinking about Frank.  Maybe a rilke quote from her blog? it seemed perfect... (august 25th just hit me like a truck, I cried one of those good/bad cries in the bathroom) ...I really want to give him something, a doodle, a thank you note. 
But anyway, I was imagining pulling him aside, and talking to him, seeing how much I could lay everything out for him, being so honest and open and simply grateful for his being and not regretful that there would be no way he could shoot back daggers.  Yes, he may think I'm weird and do a 'back away slowly' move, but at least then I would know and we both could be done with this whole thing.
Would I ever do something like that? Probably not -I cringe to say that, because I'd like to believe that someday I will be defferent, more me- but this is why I don't think so: I saw Tara Price, julianna's mom, as I was going to pick up Kara, grabbing her stroller in front of the daycare.  Tara had the good-bye present photo for Miss Sue and... she was walking with him.  A thrill.  Too excitedly a hihowareyou to her, looking at him, smile... (They walked past and the soft way he asked her 'when was that picture taken' melts me as I think of it.) I was thinking, though I already lost my opportunity for it to seem somewhat along the lines of normal yesterday which was the first time I saw her next, that I would ask her his name.  But I couldn't think of her name.  I looked it up (I know:freak) in the daycare sign-in book this morning.  So know I'm thinking write her an email? If I ask her in person about 'last wednesday afternoon when you blah blah blah' will she remember? Is that definitely weird to ask so far away from when it happened? (no doubt revealing I've been thinking about it, him?)  I guess there's no denying that I'm hoping she'll talk about him, mention to him that I'm asking, maybe get interested and involved.  I know she's married with 3 kids, I even looked at the 'school quilt' of family photos just to make sure that it wasn't Frank standing with her and her girls.
So, I don't think I'll do anything 'drastic' (read: honest, open, free, approach him with heartfelt confessions, explanations, apologies and gratitude) because I don't have the guts to write an email, and doubt I will mention it to her in person -I can't decide which would be easier/harder/better/more normal.
The 'crazy' label appears when I'm sitting here in the morning thinking about us at our wedding, holding each other close, talking to each other in low, intimate voices during our 'first dance' telling each other how we can rest now, we have reached the end of a long road, we have found each other. I see that in him... this guy I hardlly know at all... his eyes, his looks, his exuberance changed to carefulness and reservation.  (I do sincerely owe him an apology.  I'd like to make him as happy as he had made me, once I had pulled my head out of my ass.  I'd like to give back to him, I am certain he deserves it.)
I can hear the tinny little voice in the back of my head ringing: You are so foolish.  Not just because it will very likely all come to nothing -you've felt this before over an intriguing stranger. (as strongly? or happily?, IDK. is there a difference between any of them?)  But also because if I push, and the 'disaster' as I call it, happens, hearts are broken (the only one I really care about is Kara's) and I get what I want: to be his, our relationship will be ever marred by the process of it.  Who can ever be expected to weather such a storm intact, let alone our heart's hope, our bright happy shiny view of each other, who can get through ugliness and outright brutality with poise and grace?  very few.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

No Shit: Earthquake

I didn't see him today... yet.  Is that why I feel down?
I want to, I hope I do.
So unmotivated, so much to do.  Going for a walk now, maybe I'll feel better.

...
Ha!
So as I'm coming back from my walk, entertaining a really bizzare Frankfantasy, the building is being evacuated.  There was an earthquake! 5.8 they're saying right now!  I started to walk around to see Kara -the daycare had to wake them up from naptime- and hoping to see him.
Just called Kurt, got him. He had no idea.
I'm wondering where f is.  I had walked by his cube twice(sic) and he wasn't there.  On my walk I went by his jeep.  So he's here.. somewhere.

Another non-productive day... days, weeks down the drain, wasted away... where is my motivation? How can I get it back? Where can I go to find it again? (if there ever was)

Getting sent home while they check for 'structural damage'. wtf.


Monday, August 22, 2011

But what a Nice Dream

He's always catching me off-guard. That's the way of this thing.
:I ran into him on the stairwell this morning, almost first thing, I was going down to the bank, he was coming up.  Looking down, I saw him before he saw me, he was right in front me talking (listening) to someone he was with, -leaving no room for someone who may be coming down- and was right in front of him before he noticed he was blocking my way.  He looked a little shocked (may I say perhaps 'stunned'), but smiled, I can't remember what he said, but I said 'excuse me' and smiled, only because the look on his face was so awkward, the guy with him said good morning.  And after that I was all wound up.  Making my sick with fantasy desire.  Rationality cast aside and completely indulged in 'being loved'. He's kind of a big guy, I noticed.  Not little.  It's too much, makes the fantasies too good.
Here's some rationality: His awkward goofiness will annoy me, probably sooner than later; he's probably corny, soon enough will seem annoyingly so; his exuberance is surely fleeting, the dream of lifelong adoration from this 'wonderful, affectionate man who cannot resist me' is just that: a dream; his immersion in his culture is probably a huge barrier for anyone he's with who isn't also hispanic.
I feel ill today, a little sick to my stomach and exhausted... it was a long busy weekend.  It may also be time-of-month related.


Thursday, August 18, 2011

Sentiment

Please don't make me hate my life. This is my plea to the universe. Has been for most of my life, knowing I have been on a slippery slope.  My standards, expectations are high, my hope and my ability to dream have never been lost.
My poor body, screaming out to tell me I'm doing wrong by myself, that this is the wrong path, in agony.  I get stuck in my head avoiding these agonizing messages my body, always entrenched in reality, always paying the price for my mistakes.  My body is so sensitive to eveything, things I eat and drink, workouts draining and revitalizing, music and noise, people, voices, body language, tension, the mood and energy of places, colors can even get a severe emotional reaction.  But  my head will keep dreaming no matter how much my body, in reality, gets beaten and battered.  I suppose I have been closed off the happinesses of present moments because my mind is stubbornly stuck in a gray or black or red rut.
Right now i don't want my reality.  I want him, I want the dream of him, the possibility of him.  The possiblity of being loved and adored, worshiped even by a good true mindful man is agonizing, twisting my already broken heart.  How am I still hopeful? I am glad I am, but... this? I want his brown skin, his sinewy muscles, his brown eyes, his laugh, the timbre of his voice, his expressions, his exuberance, I want them all and to claim them for my own. I want someone good and true to love, someone worthy, someone who inspires more love unto himself.
A relationship, i realize, of true love built in mindfulness and bravery, is so rare and so lucky to have the chance at, let alone to simply have, to live.

Dear Frank,
{right now, ha!, i feel certain that} You are the best thing that will never happen to me. Thank you for inspiring my dreams.

Its funny and so not, that in several months (no, not a few weeks, not a few months, this may take longer... I'm smarter wiser and more in touch with reality now than when I had the nonsense crush on Doug. (he really returned barely hint of sentiment towards me, definitely* not in the way Frank does, Frank -at one point, not now- made it clear and obvious and loud to me and many people who happened to be around that he had a thing for me. *that is what makes this so hard -Frank probably doesn't have the adorable achievement-oriented girlfriend that Doug had.  Frank is more me I think, though I'm not sure how much, and probably not as much as my richly visualized and passionately felt daydreams.  Oh, what daydreams.  It's apparent I am desperate.  Speaking of: must learn Spanish.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Not to make this a 'crush' blog, but... I did see Frank(I wonder if he goes by a different name?) yesterday, just for a tiny moment, as he was coming out of the door to the stairwell I was walking out of the blue lab doors to go to the bathroom (if I had gone to the break/kitchen area first, would he have stopped and waited? or turned around to meet me there? would we have talked?). He gave me a big smile and a wave. A bigger wave. Happy to see me.  I gave him a smile. Big smile. (Happy to see him.) But I have to remember why. Not the fantasy why. Happy, friendly, exuberant, crush on me guy.  That's all. That's not a life, not a guarantee.  Still: nice.

Breaking update: never listen to anything Robin says. She and L-Dog are contradicting each other about unemployment. Actually, if we go back to when I was on maternity leave, she's contradiction herself. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Yes, I hope I see him today.  Yes, I am still determined not to walk by his cube anymore, just to get a glimpse of the side of his head or to see what shirt he's wearing.


My birthday is coming up and I had originally been planning on making a whole month of it, to myself, privately. A little splurge on things I've had my eye on, some books on my wishlist, some other things from other wishlists, taking a little better care of myself...
But that got a little screwed up with the furlough. For one thing, Idid splurge, and ended up spending too much money on things unexpectedly.  I'm not totally regretful though.  I took most of that time for myself, which I feel bad about becuase I only took some of that time to be with Kara, but I could have taken more... I was stressed.  And I had been needing some me time, but I needed Kara time too, and Kara needed mommy time... we got some... For her daycare vacation week, I may take more than one day... we'll see. I'd like to plan something fun for her.

Written about Frank maybe a month or so ago. I was mad.
{ Pretty hilarious that this dude just walked by me. -not even: I'm working at the store, he's waiting at the elevator with his lunch in his hand -and nothing. Not a hello, not even a look, possibly avoiding eye contact! W.T.F. How do you go from stalkerish exuberant interest to 'I don't see you'! So he's not really that exuberant or friendly. Just another weirdo. Men are so childishly fickle. Oh and: that was quick. Not so sure I feel sorry for him anymore. He's fucking fine.
-Just annoyed that this would have been the perfect opportunity for both of us to be able to talk and he. is. so. not. interested. Just hurts that I can add 'anymore' to the end of that.
Rush past this to the point where I'm relieved to have dodged that pain heartache and drama of another man who is  immature and thoughtless.}

Even now, I don't disagree with what I was thinking then.  After weeks of pushing away, ignoring and being annoyed, once I realized how much having attention meant to me, I wanted more. And even after getting mad that he had taken it away, I adjusted my thinking to suit that part of myself.  This idea, and the idea of 'love', can get so  complicated and confusing.  I'm still mad and disappointed, I wanted him to keep going: if he had it would have seemed like a huge statement about how strongly he felt, the possibility of being convinced is just too enticing.  But what could he really be so in 'love' with? My looks?! God, I hate the idea of that! And what is it that I like about him? How much he likes me? I'm not sure if that even works, but i doubt it would be enough for me. But now I'm back here. Geez, for two people haven't spoken more than a four word conversation we have already had a lot of ups and downs.

I haven't mentioned, and this would have gone in that long list of sightings, 'get it all down and out of my system post, that there was another time I saw him, that I think was is really significant, and sad(contributing to why I feel sorry for him): I was walking(exercising) one day and saw him walking out of where cars turn in for the main entrance.  This was very early on... I was on the other side of the road, into my music, and though I noticed him and may have for a split second thought is was strange, I was determined to ignore him out of what should have been coincidence.  But, duh, it wasn't coincidence.  Did he think he would see me and I would stop and talk, was he going to walk with me? i don't think he knew what he was doing, i think he just wanted to see me.  I glance back and he was walking back toward the building with his head down.  That should have ended it.  You've seemed to make a fool of yourself for me, and I appreciate that, truly, but there's nowhere to go.

Monday, August 15, 2011

for want of a passionate (about me) man

Hello Monday.
A harrowing weekend.
I feel accomplishment deprived.

I've been walking by Jimenez' cube the past month or so, just to get a glimpse.  I don't actually want to bump into him when I'm right in front of his cube for no verifiable reason, but I almost never see him around anymore (so weird, right?!) and as time goes by there's things I want to know...
I was thinking that he must be avoiding me, that he caught on to my stalkerisms, and he's freaked out and knows there's just no way and no point...  That hurt. But it may not, and probably isn't true.  I saw him today as he was walking to the elevator and I was walking towards the doors to the labs and he looked at me, did a stop and did one of his little waist high waves, exaggeratedly, like, 'hi, is it okay to talk to you?' idk. A short exchange, but the most comfortable one ever, 'hi' how are you? I said! 'good! how are you?' 'I'm good' I kept walking, should I have stopped?, what would I have said? Could I have convincingly asked his name? I wish there was something... well, there was.  His 'exuberance', his friendliness, his crush on me and his willingness to be a fool for me half a dozen times.  But I killed that, and I should be glad about it -I don't want another mess do I? and I've 'decided' that leaving Kurt is the wrong thing to do, and I'm not doing it.  So it should be good that this guy has stopped crushing on me and being so happy about seeing me.  But I miss it.  And I feel really bad that he may be a little heart broken.  He just seems so sweet, and a good guy.
Ooo, I just thought of hearing him speak spanish...
I want to know: frank? your real name?, where are you or your parents from? (so I know what to 'study' ha!), do you speak spanish?, where you, are you in the military? (he has a maguire sticker on his jeep, which I shouldn't know), what is it that you do in the summer outside that gets your skin so dark? (beach person? boat? surfer?), is your family in the area? do you spend a lot of time with them?

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Dear Frank

The unrequited agonizing lovelorn Jacki is back.  I have this idea, that I probably will not do, though I am seriously considering it, that I should write him a sort 'thank you' note and... leave it on his jeep or in his cube.
"In another life... " I had a whole rundown, but I can't think of it now.  I've spent most of the day thinking about kisses, hugs, the lilt of his voice, seeing his restraint to calm himself down so he doesn't scare me, passionate embraces, getting myself all worked up.  (Maybe its the time of the month.) My brain is pretty much mush.  And I'm supposed to see Michele today after work after god know how many years, who I've been wanting to talk to.  I'm doubting my ability to connect today.
I want to know the love of man I know will never hurt me.  I don't have that, I may never have that, but I know I want it. I can think about Kurt and believe he loves me if I look at him hard enough and in a certain suspended-reality way, but it's painful.  I don't like our love story, it will never be pure and will never swell me up with good feelings, just the opposite in fact.  I haven't given up on us (dumbly enough, though this makes me angry when I admit it to myself) but I know we will never be happily free -even at our best, which I can vaguely imagine a 'best' for us... it's not bad- and with his weight at my lifelong side there will always be a prominent melancholy to how I live my life.
The frank I have conjured is truly just a figment of my imagination, only in my dreams. As real as it may seem, as much as I desperately want and need for it to be real.  I am content, though I am not sure it is good for me or not (it may be something i need to cope, the harsh reality of my life may be a bit much for me, though i am into this idea of having productive dreams lately -which this is not) to dream about loving encounters, about basking in the nourishing glow of his love and adoration of me, of exuberant affection, of attentive love. Of love that is strong and sure, that leaves no question to 'doing the right thing' and 'what has to be done'.  Declarations of devotion, undeclared, but unmistakable devotion. The 'good man' that god I hope is out there and truly exists.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

trailer trash

Questions for little Kurtalina:
How many times did you stick your dick in her?
How many other teachers have you stuck your dick in?
Was Maria really worth becoming 'every other weekend Daddy' for?
Are you heartbroken now that you don't get to see your fuckwhore anymore? Poor baby.
Is Maria the one who gave you piss to pass your drug test? Classy. She'll make a great stepmom. Good choice faggot.
Does Maria know that you're pillhead? And she's okay with that? Awesome.
Just a point here. I've seen Maria. I know what she looks like.  You're not allowed to say anything about Steve going from Leslie to Margi or anything else superficially derogatory about anyone again.

This is going to be a hard conversation (when we have it) because 1. you're a lifelong advanced bullshitter and 2. (and most importantly) you are a liar, and you think nothing of lying to people.  So anything you say or explain, I won't believe you. I've known you for three years, I know what you're capable of.  And its scary.

I know what I did to you. I apologized for about six months straight before it started to feel ridiculous and then kept apologizing and feeling bad about it.  You never apologized for driving me to the hospital to deliver our daughter high as a fucking kite. You never apologized for leaving me stranded and alone in the hospital for over four hours while I was bedridden with fucking tubes all up and down my arms that were keeping me from having a seizure.  You never apologized for coming back to the hospital even higher than when you left.  You never apologized for insisting on sleeping in the room with the TV blaring -when I asked you to turn it off so I could sleep you said you couldn't sleep without it on. What. the. Fuck. The nurse had just come in and insisted that I had to sleep, my blood pressure wasn't coming down and I was in danger of having a seizure.  (You remember her don't you? You only told her six times you were going to write her a letter of appreciation, asked her four times what her name was, wrote it down and the name of her boss. What a guy.) You never apologized for screaming at me while I was pregnant because I had finally got up the nerve to confront you about being a drug addict.  You never apologized for getting angry and screaming at me because I was in the tiny bathroom crumpled on the floor crying.(Of course I was crying you dipshit.  That was back before I became numb the ridiculous bullshit that is being related to you. It takes time to adjust.) You never apologized to going to the child birthing classes high as kite (as the half the class tried to ignore you while everyone, including the nurse teaching the class gave these sympathetic looks), not taking it seriously when i tried three times to tell you how terrified I was and how important learning this stuff was to me and our baby.

I know I'm a good mom. You know how I know? Because I know that if Kara ever finds herself driving into a trailer park to hang out with her drug addicted, drug dealer boyfriend I will drag her out by her fucking hair.  She and I will have a long talk about how only a guy who really cares about you will not have sex with you until there is a mutual, rationalized commitment and will never make you feel guilty about not having sex.  Kara, if you're reading, blue balls is not your responsibility and if a guy mentions anything of the sort, turn around and run, trust me, that bullshit is just the beginning.

Monday, July 18, 2011

Stupid Frank Sarno!

Hectic, crazy-feeling rushed weekend with no real actual rest time, but so fun.  It was just me and Kara (I didn't even have to see L-dog, though I did 'entertain' a phone call.  No Kurt from Friday at 6pm till Sunday 4:30pm.  To be said only on this (private) blog, I think a few more days and I might actually have missed him.  Maybe I was too caught up in trying to jam a fun weekend for Kara and I in what I knew was really just a short time.  We got a little bonding time and what I realized was the big (mental) break for me was not having to food shopping!
I found emails from Maria (Sarno or K-something-y)(Kobrinsky). I'm wondering if he air quote cheated on me or if he really cheated on me.  "Did you stick your dick in her?" is what I'd like to ask him.  I'm keeping it to myself for now: I'm not sure how I feel about it yet, again the absence of shock and pain just like the pills -a little anxious which I think is just the adrenaline from 'snooping' (I never actually let him know that I thought I should have his email password since he has mine or that I actually already have it ((side note: how weird was it that he didn't hide better his password when we were in the shop signing up for our new smartphones?)).  I thinking about how best to stick it in his face as well as waiting for that perfect when best. Anger should hit me first, as it is, but its making me jittery and all out of focus, which is how anger usually hits me, its a very uncomfortable feeling for me.  I need some distance from this whole idea. But I also need to process this and how it affects my situation.
I hate Kurt for this, even more than I ever did.  Or do I?... It's similar to the pills, I knew he was a liar, a horrible person, an evil force with no conscience, so this is just evidence.
I don't know how I feel. I know I need to calm down and be able to be calm when I think about this.  I need to talk about this with someone but I don't know who.  I have no one really, no true friend. (I would love to come back and update this...) I'll be writing a lot I suppose -I SHOULD BE! To-do. Every day till it dies.
This should spark my 'extra-income' initiative.  Or totally depress and deflate me, as is wont to happen.  This tears wide open the whole 'how much longer can I be with Kurt?'  I was actually starting to have flashes of a vision that included us connecting later in life, after we put Kara through high school and college... There will be trust issues. It just dawned on me that he will need to make the same declaration of devotion that I have made after I air quote cheated on him. 'Kara is the focal point of any goal.  You are important to Kara's well-being, you are important to me. This is workout-able, failure is not an option.'  I will doubtfully ever trust him again, though I was never going to trust him anyway!  I have been a little freer, a little more at ease, a little more creatively inspired since I let any preconceived notion of him being anything other than less than what I need and the most of the sadness that comes along with that (still working, though I don't want to be totally numb, a little wistfulness at my wasted youth is in order -and I can't blame that all on him).

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

More Notes: Transcribed

In a process of letting go. How does it go from seeing him at every odd, uncanny turn, to not. at. all, unless I deliberately walk by? Dreaming of redemption of some sort, and there's no chance to at all.

Found this amongst my 'rubble' and want to be done with it.  Too many prying, insensitive eyes. Written while living with L-Dog when Kara was an infant.
"What have I learned? I know I've read a lot and even had quite a few experiences that should inform me on how to keep a level head. -how not to be so depressed.
There is something going on with me that triggers this response of despair that the node of  may be misconstrued as having to do with pride. But I don't think its pride, I think it would be wrong to label the root of my issues as a lack of humility. I have a track record, no. No there is no track, no past... I was thinking about how I analyze myself to see if I am overcompensating, using pridefulness -self-righteousness- an attitude of "I have learned this!". But it may not be true. I analyze for it, but I don't remember saying to myself, "yes Jacki, you're overcompensating."
What could it be? the natual reaction of an intelligent being unable to live a life of basic needs... stifled creativity, lack of space to perform everyday bodily maintenance, difficulty clothing, feeding, bathing, sheltering and growing for the baby. The simplest expectations go unfulfilled.
And the attitude -hard to describe. The 'everything's wonderful', the 'I have time to talk about nothingness' attutude. The lack of commitment to do better. Unable to look ahead and see how much worse it will get. Its a psychosis of some sort.
I have no real people in my life... Real people, as in people who live in reality... not necessarily in a pessimistic way.
The starvation for the human-intelligent reciprocal acknowledgment of reality has been pinpointed.
Now, how do I deal in the meanwhile, since that issue is... the resolution of that issue will be an arduous journey and a long time coming, with... people. Other people. These fake people surrounding and stifling and depressing my life. How do I survive?"

The tone of this sounds so odd, robotic.  What was I reading then?  I got the house.  That's how I got out of that. Thanks to my grandmother... and Mary Ann, whose idea I think it may have been when I was looking for our own apartment.

On the same sheet of computer lab paper was this: (Shows I was trying.)

Notes and a Breakdown

(Started last week)
What a weekend. Not fun, but a lot to chew on.  I'd like to think that I at least gave Kara a fun weekend, which is really all I care about.  On Friday I cleaned her room, which she actually did notice.  Saturday... I don't think we did much.  Sunday we went outside and finger painted -I think she had more fun putting paint on all our noses and washing her hands in the bucket that actually painting.  After her nap we went to Joe and Mindy's -she played in the sweltering humidity in their dirty (sorry) backyard with JD and little Mikey for hours.  Monday morning I took Kara with me to the store, with a quick flower pick-up at Produce Junction -a fun adventure.  After nap we did an early picnic table dinner (love, just so much more relaxing than inside, feel luxurious) then played in the water table and ran through the sprinkler.
Found more pills on Sunday morning.  This time oxycodones. Journaled about it while resting (so exhausted all weekend), lost one of my diamond earrings that Mommoms had given me while getting ready to shower, cried while Kurt helped me to look for it and then he found the journal page.  No talk... "Is there something you want to (talk to me about)?"  WTF. "Is the something you want to talk to me about, Kurt? Whatever you want Kurt, whatever you wish."  At this point, at least, his little pill addiction has very little to do with me and pales in comparison to the loss of my grandmother.  No dipshit, I don't care to beg you to stop doing pills AGAIN and I honestly don't care to hear more lies, bullshitting and crybaby idiocy about your immature, unmotivated issues.  BUT, if you want to talk, I will listen, I will lend a supportive encouraging ear.  I will not make your addiction my life, I have to much to live for not to mention the huge responsibility of raising an incredible, beautiful, intelligent, loving human.
So this is what he found.  And I don't feel sorry about it.

"Found oxcdn this morning! What is going on?!
He's acting really bad, worse. Jibberishing, defensive. My tolerance is low because I'm still not sleeping well.  I feel so physically tired, I really worked my ass off on Friday and got a lot done. But I'm paying for it.
The doctor name on the bottle is new. Who is prescribing him this shit for back pain? Who would? What kind of bullshit scam is he into now?
I was feeling nauseous this  morning and he was being obnoxious and loud with Kara. -which I  mostly let go. Its not good for her, but she has to learn to deal with it and I can't shield her from everything. (At a time when she is mimicing everything, great that her dad's a drug addict :erratic, moody, up & down, loud and rammy, whiny, overly particular in one moment and distracted and clouded the next.)
I've been thinking that her childhood is way too close to mine for comfort, but now, with Kurt and his bottle full of oxys, it just dawned on me that it may be worse.
And me. He's being mean. We're going to a party at Joe & Mindy's when Kara wakes up and I feel it will end up a repeat of Ross' parents' house. Trying to psyche myself up, armor up and be prepared for some sort of emotional abuse. I am strong. He is weak. I can choose."

So he didn't want to talk I guess.  He moved the pill bottle into the house (I don't even get the courtesy of a good hiding place) and there were less than half than the morning before.
If you and I break up, whatever the cause or reason, you will not see our daughter unsupervised without a clean drug test.  I will let the court know that you have successfully and recently used someone else's urine to pass drug test for work and that you need to have a closely monitored test.
He may have also read these, which I also don't care, not to mention they are good notes. (This was written while we were living with Lorraine.)


And here, for posterity, the oxies. Effin druggie. Poor Kara.










Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Man Trouble

Crushes work hard on me.  Letting this one go is hard and sad.  How many other good (warning: who MAY be good) men will I dodge and turn down? How many chances at happiness will I miss out on? And because of what?

These voice messages make me feel a little better.
Demitri the Creepy 'Catch'
Hilarious.

I have a conversation in my head where a friend asks me what my type is.  "Projects. My type is projects.  Financially irresponsible, some type of substance addiction, unmotivated... that's what gets me."
"I think marriage is for suckers."
"But you have issues."
"This is true." Nodding.
"Maybe you're not ready to start dating yet."
Smirking, "Maybe not."

In the rush and head-strong determination to start my 'real' blog, I've paralyzed myself.  I don't know what to write, I don't know what pictures would work... I don't even know what I want to say here.  Feeling uninspired and timid.

Yoga tonight.  Maybe I could spend the time on me instead daydreaming about Jimenez.  I was in good place, an almost great place a few weeks ago.  A little closed off, but dealing well and being positive.  Not sure what happened.  ...most likely a series of things. I'm searching for a new perspective.

Thursday, June 30, 2011

Dumping Ground

I'm extremely annoyed with Kurt for a handful of reasons this morning, starting with and exacerbated by my lack of sleep, which is 94% his fault.  When Kurt takes pills, the kind he is -I'll say it here- hopelessly addicted to, he not only is upredictably moody -He's up! Uh-oh, lookout! he's down!- but he twitches in his sleep.  Last night was unbearable it was almost constant for hours and hours on end -I'm thinking he may be more exhausted that I am. So the twitching specifically last night and the pillhead thing in general, then the lack of financial responsibility. Texting to remind me of that daycare is due, then thinking I'm going to call Comcast and put it on the card.

The 6% was me settling down into my pillow indulging in a fantasy of the fantasy.  ...


I'm going to use this little space to get it all out of system(hopefully).  List/paraphrase everything I ever heard him say, every interaction we ever had(all three, maybe six if you count his little waves).
So. Yeah this should be fun. I actually had this idea yesterday and had gotten to a point this morning where maybe I could have begun to let go.  It's painful, it's not conducive to healthy mental or emotional growth and it's sucking energy that I could be using to help me reach my personal goals and goals as a mother...  I got to work and felt beaten by the 'story' I had conceived and was tired anyway... But then I went to put my food in the refridgerator and I saw him, in I guess what was 'dress down' clothes(I think he has off on Fridays), a trend-graphic print gray t-shirt and jeans and some sort of longish beaded necklace.
He looked animated as I went to walk by him, waiting for the elevator.  He saw me and got excited and went to give me a high-five. ! Always catching me off-guard with his exuberance, this guy.  And I had just been thinking, sadly, how nice it would be to be a part of someone's life who greeted  me with such exuberance.  I high-fived him awkwardly, and laughed.  "what?!" or was "sorry!! I'm in a good mood!" "Well, that's good!" I said, laughing. Then, as I walked pass him and the elevator, I heard him say, "come on! dude, I've been waiting forever!" and saw the blonde haired lady/girl (mid-thirties, a little more on her later) walking to meet him, probably for breakfast in the cafeteria.
The first time I remember was when I was walking at my previously usual breakneck speed, intently focused on some pressing task taking up space in my head.  Since the 'incident' with mr.weirdo my tendency to keep my head down, avoid eye contact and stay away from people, while trying to be polite, nice and smile kindly -but not enough to allow too much of an opening for conversation- has gone from 'introverted characteristic' to an all-out rule.  So I saw that there was someone behind me head towards the door to the stairwell, but he was far enough back for me to not feel obliged to hold the door... I would have been standing there for what would have been an awkward amount of time, making whoever I was being so kind for think that I wanted to talk.  So the door slammed.  I headed down.  It opened with its notorious squeak and he says, teasing, "thanks for holding that door!" Something like that.  So I feel a little bad, maybe more embarrassed, for a pang, a split second later I realize that its a guy and he's probably doing some flirt teasing of the 'little pretty girl' who may be charmed by that bullshit. (being fucked with is not fun, and being the fucker does not make you cute.except that in this case...)  I do my notorious(well, not, but I know the faces I make to seem animated in social situations) "Oh! I'm soorry!" he laughs, I laugh. What a ... Leave me alone, I was thinking at the time. I don't have time for this, and its crap.
Two other times: I can't remember which one came before or after, which I think would be important... Kara was sick, I had been called down to get her and was talking on the phone urgently to Kurt (who, it is important to know is still jealous, distrustful and resentful -been tip-toeing around that broken glass for a year and a half now) I knew guy was in front of me on the stairwell, but I was trying to sort something urgent, important and daughter-related out on the phone.  When I neared the bottom guy must have turned around, maybe his friends had pointed me out? (I'm wondering about some of his friends, what do they say?) "THERE SHE IS!!!" In what I have come to know is his exuberant way, so loud, in front of a lot of people.  How do you have the lack of inhibition to do something like that? (I don't know if I'm horrified or more in appreciative awe.) I was on the phone with Kurt and stomach twisting skin tingling dread washed over me.  Had he heard that? I tried to cover it up "hold on people are talking really loud i can"t hear you" and i was astonished that he didn"t notice the "loud excited< happy to see me guy who I had hurried past, without making eye contact, pretending to ignore the whole bizarre situation.  (I mean, what really was going on there? What would have been a normal reaction to that?) I was resigned to feeling angry about that, about what could have happened and how awful it could have turned out and how could someone act so inappropriately?  But I’m wondering, thinking probably, he got the embarrassment of the situation and feels bad.  He was noticeably more subdued and until this morning has never been close to that exuberant since. The other: I was making tea, and came up alongside the counter and picked up my mug and said “Tea for me?” teasing. “Yeah!” I breathed and smiled.
And another time in the stairwell (before the shouting stairwell incident?), to his friends as we are heading up sort of together in our line, “So long to the third floor?! Doesn’t it seem like it takes a much longer time to get to the third floor?!!”
Then, the little, smileless, waist high waves, (like we were once friends who don’t really keep in touch anymore).  Hearbreakingly obviously subdued. This is what got me.  This is when I started thinking about the stairwell incident and wondering how he was feeling.
Before or after I noticed the little waves, I’m not sure, was the riding in the elevator with Kara.  Now, this would have seemed hugely momentous to me. (Here’s the kid. You will love us.) But then it didn’t even register.  “This is your daughter?” he had said. “Yes, this is Kara…” Again, way more subdued afterward.  Probably the realization that with a young child, I must be in a relationship.
Then, sort of recently, I noticed the blonde woman.  Walking with him a couple times, then leaning against the balcony (to me, this seems very public) I overheard her telling him something that may have been about an ex seeing his kids, “I just wish he would …with them…” He was making a really odd face: like overly animated concern.  And gave me one of his ‘little waves’ when I walked past.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Naming the Issue

I think my antsy-giddy sleeplessness (feeling lovesick and daydreaming about passionate kisses) has just as much to do with an irrational-based on nothing-teenage style crush on 'Frank' as it does starting (grand opening commencement of) my public blog.  It means a lot to me I guess.  In an almost subconscious way I am aware of the possibilities doing this could bring -and how much it would mean to my daughter, and me!  Just trying this is a big step, and I guess that it what is keeping me up when I wake in the wee hours of the morning -that I am taking a big step.  The beginning of something.  I feel like last week I had reached a plateau and then promptly fell off in a downward spiral.  I knew, not how, that I would break out of it and gather momentum again, but in a different way.  Positivity has many facets, as positivity in and of itself can be difficult to buy into.  I have my own little brand of cynical optimism that you don't read about in the secret and other self-help books.

So that's it, I'm taking a big step.  I think I thought of a http name: thepleasantvilleproject.  It makes sense to me -drives home why I'm doing all this, sort of commemorates where I'm starting and I like the name Pleasantville (the irony, but also that it could be a fun design name...kitschy, playful).

The name itself will no doubt change and be a process of settling in...  I got nuthin' right now, I'll like something for a few minutes, then hate it.

This reminds of the Batman Movies ...love the dark mood

Some findings I'm loving from this morning (trying this joannacoffee style):
(Pics aren't loading... swans from rosaline's this is glamorous blog)
(Pics aren't loading... Avocado and Smashed White Bean Salad)
For extra flavor, mix some fresh lemon juice and chopped garlic into the bean mixture.
  • And this, (apropos of my blog title) I am finding brilliantly hilarious right now. "The first step is admitting you have a problem."

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Dads

Feeling really inspired by a few things found in 'the surf' (<-is this corny? or is it just corny because I put it in quotes and then asked if it was corny?): I had be thinking this morning that I could do a fatherhood post, and thought maybe that would be okay for a first RealBlog post. I've been running into fatherhood musings a lot lately -not sure why, I hadn't been thinking on dad's much or looking for insights and nothing has clicked yet... but... you never know, just keep your eyes open.
This article found yesterday via a blog lost in the ether: Jeff Pearlman's adamant suggestions on CNN. (I'm thinking next father's day print out 1 through 10 and handing them out?)  And, a bit eerily, just this morning Miss Jo's husband got a spot with this to say.  All this precipitated by the lengthy chapter on fatherhood  in this book (I'm still reading it), written by John Gottman, who I can only assume is a SuperDad.
Then there's this...
...which I'm thinking about sending to it to brother Steve, another SuperDad of sorts. (I mentioned that he looked like a hipster with his grown-out -toupee looking don't tell him I said so- hairdoo and this "Your dad was inappropriate before you were" blog falls right in line with the Steve-O persona.)


Then, I found something else I was blog-inspired by: and entire blog called Little Lottie Loves, a sibling of Lottie Loves.  I'm not especially sparked by the blog itself, though I'll read it, but I love the idea and plan to expand upon(upon? on?) it: Children's clothes, interiors and all other related products plus KB events, activities and anecdotes (I'm thinking 'Kara says...or is...') Not as much readership as a general women's interest blog, but I think I would come up against less road blocks and be more inspired and less timid.

Monday, June 27, 2011

The 'Real' Blog

I put myself to the resolution that I would start the 'real' blog, as I've been calling it, today.  And now, to be honest, I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed.  After spending some time this weekend with people who may or may not be reading it (but who I'm essentially gearing it towards) I'm not sure if I feel more or less nervous.  I have no 'clean cut' posts from this blog, which means posts I can just copy and paste, all posts have a dose of negativity or oversharing on the personal side.  But there are a few that need only minimal editing and just a little tweaking.
I guess the first thing to do is to just get the new link in...
So, what to do for the first post. Hm. This idea scares me: I could just copy, paste, edit.  But it wouldn't be awesome to have a sort of commemorative first post? And now not doing some sort hoopla bothers me...
One idea is to link over some of my favorites, and talk about how they inspire me. But, I think it may be too early, and a little 'coattails'-ish, to do that yet.  Or I could do something sort of 'in the news' that strikes a chord with me.  Or a yoga commentary post.  Or just a general health-tip kind of post.  I think whatever I do will set the tone of the blog, and maybe I'd like it to.  What to do? ...I have four and half hours to make good.  Going for a walk now.

Its not happening.  I have to think of an address name, which is permanent, which needs to be well thought-out, which has stopped me in my tracks. Having an off day. (Again.) See following post.

More Blog Love


I have not (yet) finished what I set out to do this morning, but I have found a new blog that I am finding interesting and has got me thinking: about being a writer.  This thought train began a long time ago, and was give a turbo chugging dose of coal when my grandmother died and I got to thinking what an amazing life she had.  She was a professional writer.  Made a living, helped raise her children and made herself a name (we, my old peeps and I, used to call them local celebrities).
The Newly Found Blog with carefully and well thought and thiught-provoking posts is called Remarks from Sparks and is written by a 28 year old grad student (writing degree) who still shops at forever21 and happens to also do letterpress.  (Letterpress. Who knew?)
I am realizing not only how important it is to have your voice as a writer, but also how important it is to me to develop and have a voice and really be a writer. Heart wrenching how bad I want this.  Or I may be getting confused over my forlorn feeling-sorry-for-myself state over my latest crush.  Just waiting for someone to confess their undying love and devotion for me.  (I know it was just that "THERE SHE IS!!" day in the stairway.  I mean really who does that? --Oh, he must love me. Apparently just waiting for my next chance to be a fool.  Dumb guy didn't even know me -though he seems to have realized that.  Rode with KB and I in the elevator -done deal).  I just want that kind of enthusiasm to be real -wouldn't it be great to get that sort of attention every day.  I'm a silly, silly girl.  I really do feel lovesick.  Or maybe its just that I haven't really exercised in a while, I'm hungry, I didn't sleep well last night, I don't have anyone to talk to at work and I've been stuck in the computer screen all day.

Friday, June 24, 2011

Headbands

To head up, an Anouncement:
I do believe that I am ready go public and do a 'real' blog.  Why not? I need to get a round-up of good, consistent posts going, I know what I need to edit and what will work, and after confessing my mastermined plans to my brother, it doesn't seem like that big of a deal.  It doesn't have to be known to the whole family (i.e. L-Dog or Kurt), I just want to get it started with some simple kitschy posts and develop content later.

And speaking of heads, I am a headband fanatic.  I don't wear them all the time (ahem, as much as I would like to -they do not always fit the situation, the outfit, or the grown woman) and 'headband fanatic' does not mean I'm into 'fanatical headbands'.  I am specifically looking into simple, at least somewhat understated, pretty hair jewelry.  Not to be combined with too much other adornments and not to be worn at serious toned prove-your-grown-up-seriousness related activities.

Here are the contenders:
Love the messy-hair pony tail in this one.


This is actually how I, as of now, usually wear headbands.





Love this.  And I know how it will look!


This is actually a long-time Etsy favorite.  I would so rock this. Probably more often than I should.

I'm not sure about this one, but I think with the right outfit and occasion and placed over a 'bit-unkempt' bun, this would be great.


Maybe a little fancy, but again, love the leaves.

This may be a little much, but I can't help it -I like it!

Loving the animal-theme lately, and this is different.

 
Comes in silver too, which I actually like better (very cute), but love the hair in this photo.


My current favorites are the 'patent' bow at the top, the little twisted bow, and the gold laurel leaf one gathering dust in my etsy favorites.

If I were posting this publicly, I would obliged to provide all image links, mention etsy shop names, number the headbands maybe? and edit the commentary to more cheesy, less self-specific notes.