I Am Grateful For People Like Frank Sinatra

There aren't too many articles I read that pull emotions from that deep place where such things hide, but this one did. I am already a Sinatra fan as it is, but this... wow. Loyalty like that is a rare find anymore.

I couldn't have written the story better myself so you'll just have to read it on CNN. I wish there were more people like Frank and Sal in the world today. Seems they are an endangered species.

What a PERFECT way to put it too...

Frank Sinatra's Lesson in Loyalty
Some people are so big during their lives, even death doesn't seem to entirely take them away.

THAT is the kind of immortal I want to be!

Chinchillas and Children

People unfamiliar with exotic pets such as iguanas or chinchillas tend to either be afraid of them, or they wonder why I would want to keep such a thing because they assume these creatures have no individual personality. They would be wrong.

I went downstairs tonight and got some raspberries from the frig and was eating (read: inhaling) them in the kitchen. My chinchillas all reside in the breakfast nook because it is the easiest place to cool down in summer since it's like a small room (they are in danger of heat stroke over 75°F) and the easiest place to contain their mess and clean it up (they scatter hay and cage substrate on the floor daily).

Odin (our 10 year old light grey chinnie) saw me and was immediately sticking his pink nose through the bars begging for a treat: "ME TOO! ME TOO! ME TOO!"

 

I don't like giving him raspberries tho cuz of the tiny seeds (plus they are huge compared to his size if you think about it - that's like giving us a berry the size of a watermelon to eat all at once), so I gave him a small fresh blueberry instead. He loves those. Odin likes all kinds of fresh stuff - organic salad greens and grapes are other things I give him once in a great while (just in case new chinchilla owners seeking info are led to this blog, please note that giving fresh items such as this can cause diarrhea so if your chinnie does like these things, please don't give them anything large, and don't allow these types of treats too often. Once a month at the most for fresh items. Dried fruits are better; small bits of pineapple, papaya, apple, and raisins are your best bet. Chinchillas are junkies - they will quickly become addicted to treats, so you really have to monitor it and only give them one treat per day. That said...)

My other two chinchillas, Edwyn (charcoal grey, 9 years old) and Arty (the 4 year old beige that came to me just after New Year's - I'll have to put that in a different blog cuz that's quite a story), saw me give Odin a blueberry and they're like "US TOO! US TOO!" Suddenly I have pink noses poking through cage bars everywhere.

I gave a blueberry to Edwyn, who grabbed it and ate half, then probably dropped the other half somewhere in the cage to be revisited later tonight. (He's like that - they're nocturnal by the way.)

Then I offered one to Arty who sniffs it and says: "Uh no, I don't like that."

Me: Oh c'mon, you'll like it. The other two like them.

Another sniff.

Arty: No no, I'm sure I don't like these.

Me: How do you know? You've never had one. Here.

Arty: No, I don't like them. I'm sure.

Me: Seriously, try it. (Side note: Yes, I speak out loud to my animals.)

Arty: No.

Me: TRY IT.

Arty: NO.

Me: "Look stunad... they're the same as the dried blueberries you immediately pick out of your dish every time I give them to you. TAKE THIS. It's the SAME THING."

Arty: Gimme a treat.

Me: I AM giving you a treat! Take it!

Arty: I don't want that treat. Gimme a different treat. (Turns "the cute look" on me.)

Me: No, don't do that. Eat this!

Arty: NO, GIMME A DIFFERENT TREAT. (Turns up the cuteness by a factor of 10.)

Me: FINE.

I go get the dried blueberries in the treat container and give him one, which he immediately gobbles down. Mind you, this is the same thing I was offering him before, it's just that these have had all the water sucked out of them.

Arty: That was good. Can I have another one? I'm sure you didn't give me one yet. How come the other two got treats and I didn't?

(And the other two are in the background going, "Yeah, we didn't get treats either. We're sure. Give us one!" They are excellent little liars.)

This totally reminded me of my daughter when she was five. Or maybe when she was FIFTEEN.

Her: I don't like Indian food.

Me: Try it.

Her: No! I don't like it.

Me: How do you know? You've never had it. (A CLASSIC parent argument.)

Her: I just know! (A CLASSIC child response.)

Me: C'mon, try it.

Her: NO! It smells funny!

Me: Try it!

Her: NO!

Me: Ok here, have this instead. Take this bread (naan) and dip it in this sauce (tikka masala).

Her: YUM! That's really good. Can I have more? What is it?

Me: INDIAN FOOD.

Her: (No response.)

A similar story a few years later during the one month she lived here with me in California before running back to the boyfriend in New Jersey: Oceanside has a street fair in the evening every Thursday. There are a ton of food booths, but this one place sells Greek gyros and OH MY GOD are they good. Best gyros I've ever tasted. The first time we had them it was just luck in picking that out of all the booths; now I go back on Thursdays just for that.

Katy and I had been walking around and she kept insisting she wasn't hungry but she hadn't eaten all day (drama over being apart from the boyfriend... they cried on the phone together EVERY NIGHT for a MONTH - him included!). I finally got tired of trying to convince her to eat and bought a gyro for myself. As soon as I tasted it I knew she'd like it, but getting her to find that out was always a challenge.

Me: You need to eat some dinner. This is really good. Try it.

Her: No. I'm not hungry.

Me: You're missing out. You'll love it. Just take one bite!

Her: NO! What is it?

Me: Lamb. (mistake - never tell them it's anything but beef or chicken)

Her: EWWWW!!! GROSS!!! NO!

Me: TRY IT! It tastes like beef. You won't know the difference.

Her: NO!

Me: TRY IT!

Her: FINE.

One bite, no comment.

A few minutes later...

Me: Do you want more? You need to stop sulking and eat something.

Her: I'm NOT sulking! FINE. Just one more bite. (Rolling her eyes.)

Me: You sure you don't want one of your own? I'll buy you one.

Her: No, MOM! I'm not hungry. (So much eye rolling her head could've been a bowling lane.)

Then I ask her to hold it for me (yeah, I'm smart) and it starts disappearing like magic. When she gets down to the last few bites she asks if I want anymore of it. I say no thanks, you finish it. No other comments are made. (I ate something later at home.)

These things are necessary silent victories lest you lose the next battle because your opponent has figured out your strategy. (She was 19. NINETEEN! Don't ever let anyone tell you the terrible twos stop in a few years! The only cure for that is moving out of the house!)

The next week she asks: Hey, can we get gyros again?

Chinchillas are much more stubborn.

Engineering Genius

Email conversation today with my genius (seriously high IQ, no kidding) engineer boyfriend...

(Sends me this picture from his iPhone):

Genius Boyfriend: Old one broke do I use new one on right or replace nozzle on old one?

Me (missing the fact that he said it was broke): Actually I like the original one better (on the left). Cleaner lines. More modern like the rest of downstairs.

Genius Boyfriend: I thought so since mom likes the new. I like the original better too.

Me: The second one isn't bad, but there was nothing wrong with the original. Why not put the second one in her bathroom since she likes it? Perhaps if you decide to re-do that bath you can use the soap thingy as the inspiration for what goes in there next. :)

Genius Boyfriend: I will do that. I tried to switch the broken top, and the second one is a different color.

Me (finally catching a clue): The top is broken? What happened?

Genius Boyfriend: It just doesnt squirt anymore.

Me: Have you tried filling the bottle?

(Long pause.)

Genius Boyfriend: filled the bottle. works now.

Nature is MOCKING ME

Actually written Monday or Tuesday I think...

This weekend held a lot of fun, but it was also a tough one because circumstances (and some truly asinine voices that won't shut up in my head) prompted me to initiate one of those "serious" talks with the boyfriend about what's on the horizon of the path we're walking. I'm not one of those stereotype girls that pushes for a white picket fence, but I know how I feel and after being together a year, I'm pretty sure it would NOT suck to spend the rest of my life with this guy. On the surface you'd think he felt the same. He has certainly professed his love in many awesome ways. However, behind the scenes there were a lot of comments and innuendos flying in both directions and I finally got tired of second guessing his intentions, despite my attempts to live only in the Now. Sometimes a girl just wants to know, ya know? Besides, games should be regulated to cards and boards and fields. In real life I prefer the Truth. All the time.

Unfortunately it turns out our thoughts on the future differed (which I knew before, but all his teasing made me wonder if things had changed because they certainly have on my end). This makes me sad (which I don't feel entitled to), but no less in love with him (or him with me he says). Still haven't figured out how much of a problem my feelings are going to be when we finally hit the apparent fork in the road (altho I have a good idea from past experience, and what if they don't make enough organic chocolate for this one?). Right This Minute I decided to cross that bridge when it comes up and not spend the rest of the hike moping about it. You miss out on too much good stuff if you're looking down at your feet sulking. Then again, a left at Albuquerque is sometimes the only bypass around Hell, crappy as the road is for lack of maintenance. (No, that is not a crack at Arizona altho the temp is about the same.)

Normally, when I'm feeling a bit off I look to nature to provide some clues as to which track might be the happiest one but this morning I admit I skipped out on meditation in favor of getting some work done. I haven't found anyone at the power company yet that will let me pay the bill with love and cuddles dammit. Ditto for Chrysler Financial - they prefer to have the government suck their... well, anyway... Perhaps the Gods took offense to my lack of attention, or the Universe is just not one to be ignored. Or maybe the mean voices in my head that are beating the crap out of my Ego manifested this to make sure I wrote it down, as writing is a form of meditation for me afterall.

The weather has been cooler these past several days so I had the sliding door open behind me. I heard a persistent tapping sound outside on the balcony. When I finally got curious enough to turn around and look, I saw a small brown bird sitting on the only twelve inches of railing visible from my chair. He was alternating looking in my window and smashing something against the wood. "Hi Birdie! What doin?" I asked. I love when the feathered ones come to visit. He looked at me in between every bash, as if to say, "Are you watching?"

"What's he smashing?" I wondered like every dumb blonde ever to lean over and peer at the monster to see if it's really dead. Cue the horror movie music.

I stood up for a closer look, and I swear he turned deliberately to show me what he had in his beak. The bastard.

It was a DRAGONFLY.

And apparently it was still half-alive because then I noticed the wings flutter after every pounding against his little green head. Can you hear the screams? Oh wait, maybe that's those stupid voices.

Since I was up, I moved toward the door to shoo the bird away thinking maybe it will drop the dragonfly in fright, but hell no. Instead he looked right at me, arched his neck and swallowed the damn thing whole. Well fuck me. Who knew birds could double as snakes? I haven't seen a performance like that since I owned boa constrictors. Of course he flew off once his meal was safe and his point made. I'll bet he's the jerk pooping all over my balcony too.

To the Gods I say: Thank you Captain Obvious. That makes me feel SO much better about Life when I see my own totem being mercilessly pummeled then eaten in one big defiant gulp. Perfect way to start my day. I need to go hug my iguana (Lizard is my other dominant totem).

Of course my head raced through all the things this could symbolize: I'm beating my head against a wall and should really just accept that the relationship will end and let it go. I should become the bird and fly away free with a full belly (you are what you eat, right?). It's just the food chain - the dragonfly served a purpose as nourishment for the bird - coincidence - meant nothing. Yeah right. Maybe I'll just become a regular Walmart customer while I'm at it.

Either way the opportunity to rise above the scene did not improve the cacophony in my head. I get a big fat F on that test. I know in the end it just is what it is - neither good or bad. That'd be fine if I wasn't human. Damn the bad luck.

~*~

There is actually more to this blog entry but I find one of the reasons I haven't been posting like I should is because I get stuck in editing over and over and adding too much then never finishing what I wrote. So that's a good stopping place and there it is. I need to start writing happier/funnier blogs tho. I notice lately everything I bother writing about and posting is the crap that goes on in between all the awesome stuff. Arg.

And For The Girls...

Women would be amazed if they knew what men desire about them. Yes, of course, they want to see women naked and supine and melting, but male desire is far more readily stimulated by what the oblique glance discovers: the parted lips, the micron of eyelash which the mascara brush missed, the changing angle and shadow of cleavage, the bra-strap alternately displayed and covered up, the ripe-camembert plumpness at the edge of hips. There is, inside every adult man, a relentless Peeping Tom, a perennial 14-year-old boy, still amazed by the phenomenon of women on display, flagging their sexuality, their availability, with every square inch of visible flesh, clothing, make-up and curve.

...

We desire the personality that we discern in the walk, the clothes, the laugh … We look, and sigh, and wish to do certain things to her, first urgently, then luxuriantly, and keep doing it indefinitely; but we also hunger to have her do certain things to us, unimaginable though it may seem – we want her to want us. We don’t just want her surrender, like a slave captured in battle; we want her approbation, her adoration; we want to enchant her to desire us back. For, no matter how humble we feel before the dizzying fact of female beauty, men are just as narcissistic as women.

- John Walsh from Desire: What Really Turns Us On

This all sounds very flowery and nice, but I think he missed the basics of mens' desires: 4-inch stiletto heels, scraps of cloth that pass as clothing even if the temp is below freezing, a lack of lingerie under your skirt, a "Hall Pass," and to be left alone during The Game!

Update on That Wedding Video

Okay, this was really funny!

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

Someday...

My sister posted this on her Facebook and I think it's SO cool it had to be re-posted here. This is nothing short of BRILLIANT. I wish I'd thought of it myself, but lemme tell ya, if that day ever comes for me, I am SO TOTALLY stealing that idea and improving on it. Do you think fire jugglers would be too much? I mean, let's face it. There's no way I'm marrying someone "normal" anyway. And at least then when my family talks about what a circus my life is, they will be absolutely correct! Bonus!

She's Like So Whatever

Have you ever done something you knew was going to come back around and slap your karma silly but you didn’t regret it one single little bit? I’m not normally prone to drama, but once in awhile it comes looking for me.
My landlady – who is AWESOME – gave me two huge silk trees a couple weeks ago because they didn’t sell at her garage sale and she didn’t want to deal with hauling them to Goodwill. (She only lives a half mile up the road from me.) She knows I’m a craigspert (i.e., expert with craigslist.com) so she offered them to me if I wanted to sell them, and she didn’t even want a share of the money! This is not the first time she’s practically given me the rent this way. Like I said – total sweetheart. <3
When she dropped them off, they had price tags that said $60 crossed out and marked down to $50. I can’t believe no one bought them for that price. They were both in excellent shape and not even dusty, and given their size and quality, a designer would charge upwards of $150 each for them. I put them on craigslist for $80 each including delivery and today they sold. Yay! I had to drive 45 minutes to Mira Mesa to drop them off, but it was worth the gas to make the $160. Pure profit is a beautiful thing.
Turns out the lady that bought them only lives 2 miles from my – dare I say – boyfriend. You see, our relationship (like everything else in my life) is not easily pigeonholed by conventional terms. This male friend and I have been seeing a lot of each other (A LOT) over the last several months, and the mutual respect and love has carved a groove a little deeper than either one of us intended. Even so, we have both agreed that our long-term goals do not mesh precisely; therefore we have not made any commitment to each other. I accept that and I understand the reasons why, even tho my hormones sometimes commit mutiny.
He’s the one that started the name-calling tho. I thought perhaps “girlfriend” was just a convenient adjective to describe me to his buddies since I am his friend and I am a girl and humans are territorial creatures, but he’s stated it means more to him, and his actions match his words. He seemed pleased when I started referring to him as my boyfriend, so no trouble there. My heart ran away with that even while my brain was shaking its finger saying, “You know this doesn’t change anything; he’s still not thinking marriage. He’s made that clear.” My Cinderella complex was like, “Yeah yeah, whatever. Shut up. Can’t you see I’m busy swimming in this romance here?”
This is why men and women are generally not best friends outside of romance, because eventually one gets too keen on the other and it ruins the whole thing. Damn the bad luck of owning the boobs, cuz it’s usually that one which falls first. ::sigh::
Up until now, when he’s chosen to spend an evening with someone else, I’ve just swallowed my emotions and reminded myself I have no claims on him. It’s been easy because he’s not spending multiple evenings with anyone serious and he’s certainly not an ass about it or anything. If anyone has been an ass, it’s been me because I can’t seem to keep my mouth shut about my own isolated incidents (which mostly happen because I feel like they should, since I know this won’t last forever). Some might say that’s passive aggressive, but really it’s just me being dreadful at keeping secrets. I hate secrets because they make me paranoid.
I know there will come a day when he will find the right girl and I will have to let go and it will suck hard (except for the pints of Haagen-Dazs), but until then I’m having a really good time. Live in the moment, right? Appreciate what is NOW. I totally get that. I try really hard to walk my talk. He’s not breaking any promises, so it’s up to me to be an adult about it and keep myself in check. I’m just enjoying it while it lasts. I keep deciding it’s worth the pending heartache.
Do you see the big BUT(T) coming?
A woman he used to date from across the pond arrived Tuesday to visit for a month. I know that Europeans vacation for much longer than Americans do, so I don’t find the timeline suspect. I also know she’s not staying in his guest room (or a hotel if you get my drift), but again – I have no claims so I can’t complain. What bothers me is that suddenly I’ve gone from “girlfriend” and primary companion to secret (??!) dinner date after the Mon/Thurs workout, and the sleepover ritual has been terminated until further notice. He was even checking his watch after we ate. It’s like he got married overnight. (And no, he did NOT. God, I hope I’m not THAT blind.)
When I asked what the deal was, he said his foreign friend was not mature enough (emotionally) to understand our relationship. (Read: he didn’t tell her what he was doing.)
Christ, haven’t I been here, done that? What did I miss the last 10 times around? How am I here again?
That’s rhetorical.
I admitted I was jealous, and told him calmly and rationally about all my icky thoughts on the situation; how I felt very excluded even on a regular friend level. I am not this shut out when his family visits, or even when he has parties attended by State-side ex-girlfriends. He stuck with the “she wouldn’t understand” (read: approve) story. The Inside Voice said fuck her – she needs to grow up.
Instead I said, “Then why are you still friends with her? People that didn’t get Mark’s and my openness didn’t hang around long. If you can’t run with the big dogs, then stay on the porch.”
THEN out my mouth came “Fuck her, she needs to grow up.” (Because THAT was so mature. And yes, Jess, I see the irony.)
Points to him for letting that go.
He went on to say she’s way more into him than he is into her. It sounds lame, but it’s something he’s expressed before outside of these circumstances and it’s been my own experience with him, so why would I think he’s lying? She IS a friend, which is why she’s staying at his house. They have a history, and he and I aren’t exclusive. Just because he likes her too doesn’t mean he likes me any less, so case closed.
My own logic does nothing to assuage my stinging emotions.
To support his claim, he explained he’s not that into her because she’s gained weight. Knowing how freaky he is about his own weight and his penchant for trophy women, I have to assume this is also true, but neither does this lessen my jealousy. What IS it with the stupid human emotions?? I should know better.
To preserve the scrap of dignity I was clinging to, I asked him not to come over again until she’s gone home. (I have some decisions to make between now and then anyway.) Which means we won’t see each other at all for a month – not even for the party he’s throwing, which he did invite me to even tho she will still be there. I have truly warred with myself on whether I’m cutting off my nose to spite my face, or whether I’m just enforcing my boundaries. Just when you think you’ve got all the grey areas covered, the Universe makes a greyer one.
I relented on IM/email, so we will remain in contact for as long as I can stand sitting on my Ego. This is weird in so many ways after spending almost every day together for so long. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth (which my friends Ben and Jerry are going to help fix).
So I told you all that so I could tell you what I don’t regret…
Todaaaaayyyyy I told him on IM that I sold the trees because we like to share our craigslist triumphs. I also told him I was delivering them 2 miles from his house, to which he replied, “Why don’t you drop by for a game of pool?” (He just bought a new pool table and he’s been having fun seeing how much he can screw up his game just so I can keep up. What a doll. :) I dunno if he really thought I would or not, but hey, he offered and I MISS him and it’s only been a handful of days. And then the ‘tude kicks in and I decide perhaps the balls on the pool table aren’t the only ones that need to be dug out of the pockets. I mean seriously. How old are we?
(HA – quick note here: A ladybug just flew in, buzzed my head, and landed on the wall in front of me. It’s been dark out for awhile; I was under the impression that ladybugs are not generally nocturnal, so I take this as a sign. I Google “ladybug medicine” and I get this page, which is weird in its own right because the title is “Follow the Dragonfly.” HELLO. Universe is texting me again. Except it’s not limited to 160 characters since it’s all Infinite and stuff. Haha
In summary, ladybug represents energies of renewal and regeneration. It teaches us to release worry and “let go and let God.” Shows us how to stop harming ourselves. And lastly says to get out of our own way and allow Great Spirit to enter.
::sigh:: Crap. Ok, I suck.
I don’t know how atheists can believe there is NOTHING [even if it is an advanced version of our own selves] watching from some other dimension we haven’t even dreamed of yet.
Moving on…)
So I deliver the trees, collect almost $200 and pass go. This is the part I’m sure karma will swing back on me for, but perhaps I also learned a valuable lesson already. Afterall, isn’t that what we’re here for? To provide each other with learning opportunities?
First let me say, his take on the following was that his ladyfriend avoided confronting me, like some kind of mouse. Could be true – certainly he knows her and I don’t, and it’s always amazing how a group of people may all witness the same event but come away with different versions of what happened. Another girl he was fooling around with when we first started hanging out was also very mousy when I finally located my pride and put myself in front of her to say hi at a party, so it’s not an unreasonable conclusion. We do tend to pick the same type of people over and over in our lives. But his view is not at all what I experienced.
When I asked him tonight how much trouble he was in, he said none. He could be blowing it off to avoid any further bullshit from me (which is entirely understandable; I’m not exactly being reasonable over this). His answer gave me some perspective on why I may have experienced it the way I did. (As in my personal history skewing my perception, much like how we see light refracted through a prism.)
Perhaps my version only took place in my own head (well, of course it did, but you know what I mean), but I’m learning to trust my sixth sense and a lot of it was hitting that radar, not the standard five. We’ll never know since the other two parties wouldn’t be inclined to talk about it (nor would at least one party be capable of self-examination to that depth from what I’ve heard), but it’s food for thought. This must be how people end up in the nuthouse.
Anyway… here’s what * I * saw happen.
He had given me a key to his house, so I used it. Loudly. I walked in and yelled jokingly, “Ok, put your clothes on and let’s play some pool.” No response. The house was weirdly quiet. Hmm. Maybe he knew they were leaving which is why he extended the invite. Oh well. It’s not like I made a special trip. We do play pranks on each other. If I was interrupting anything I figured I would’ve heard something immediately, so that wasn’t it.
But there’s rustling coming from the garage. I go check it out and he’s putting the arcade back together. Oh good, he just didn’t hear me and we get to play afterall. He looks only slightly surprised to see me.
After greetings, we set up a game. I’m racking up balls and he’s checking his cue stick when his ladyfriend appears at the top of the stairs. He tries to introduce me as his friend that helped him change all his furniture thru craigslist (which is entirely true :) but I can see she’s not buying it and his words seem to fade at the end of his sentence. I’m amazed that he sounds not like his normal cocky self, but more like a little boy trying to avoid trouble. Who is this guy? I know he’s told me he hasn’t always been as confident as he is nowadays, but wow. I almost feel guilty for coming over. Almost.
She barely glances at me and mumbles some acknowledgment with an accent I can’t help but find charming, which of course sends my Ego into a whirlwind of conflict. (Fuck charming – but it was charming – I said fuck charming! I’m not ready to let go of my jealousy!)
I try a dry “nice to meet you,” which garners not just NO response, but the true meaning of DEAD AIR becomes crystal clear to me at that moment.
She keeps staring at him and doesn’t look at me again. The silence is beginning to stretch.
There are people I know, and others that have been described to me as “being able to suck all the fun right out of a room just with their presence,” but this is the Dyson of uncomfortable vacuums. For a split second I am paralyzed as if we’ve been caught doing something naughty (not even close – we’re at opposite ends of the table). I think I was actually holding my breath. Then suddenly I find the whole thing terribly amusing and I have to beat down a laugh.
It looks like he is in a lot of trouble (or perhaps we woke her up? But I doubt it). I had to rethink whether the words I heard in my head were actually spoken by her, and honestly I don’t think they were, but they came across loud and clear and even in her accent, which I had only heard in one mumbled sentence two seconds ago. I heard “Why is she here?” You know – in that clenched teeth tone, but only inside my head.
The lack of sound now feels like a lead weight infusing itself into every particle in the room and dropping effectively to the floor. No one said anything. This could all be just me, I dunno, but it was absolutely surreal. I always joke about “thinking things really loudly” but in this case, it might be the truth.
I think he’s lucky to be alive because I wasn’t real sure looks couldn’t kill right then. She seemed to be totally staring him down. He was kinda all deer-in-the-headlights, which was odd because normally he’s quite brash in a fantastic way. I was surprised by the continued non-conversation.
After a very long pause she pretty much just turned and went back in his bedroom without another word. No goodbye or anything. I didn’t see her again for the rest of the time I was there.
We played three or four games, during which he must’ve lost his mind - he invited me to stay for lunch and to go to the beach with them after. (Black’s Beach – which is clothing optional. Because that wouldn’t make things more uncomfortable AT ALL. That is the impetuous guy I’m familiar with, although I did not hear a true teasing challenge in his voice like normal. Maybe it just lacked the flirty part. He sounded tired. Maybe he didn’t sleep well. Who knows.)
Ya know, he has the most powerful motorcycle on the market and he likes to get all dangerously fast on it, but I wasn’t taking his DEATH WISH so seriously.
On the way home, my Ego was really having a field day of evil thoughts about what I could’ve said.
“Oh, nice to meet you – you’re not nearly as fat as he described.”
“Oh, nice to meet you - do you mind if I come up and get my toothbrush? I left it in his bathroom.” (True fact.)
“Oh, nice to meet you – do you have trouble with the cats laying on you all night too?”
I know I sound psycho, but I'm much meaner in my head than I ever would be in the real world. The chances of me expressing those thoughts unless seriously provoked was nonexistant. Just the fact that I went to his house was out of the norm for me. I am usually the mouse. But like I said, I don’t regret it a bit.
Anyway, reviewing her non-response I can see why he may think that she was simply avoiding confronting me. However, I also have intimate knowledge of the nature of women and even those that are demure and keep their mouths shut are usually seething underneath, so I’m equally as sure that even if she never did show her anger, it wasn’t like it didn’t exist.
But again, perhaps that’s just me. My experience with this type of confrontation has always been angry, so I acknowledge that may be the sole reason I felt all that. Our worlds really do only happen in our own heads afterall, which is why everyone has a different experience of the same event.
I’m glad I gathered the guts to go, even if it was for the wrong reasons and creates entries on my karmic record. I figure at the very least, if a big dose of reality is getting spread around, I’m sure as hell not going to be the only one without a knife. One of these days I hope to evolve tho and not get into or feel this kind of pain over such silly emotional matters.
If you make a comment, please don't "take sides."
Soundtrack: Girlfriend by Avril Lavigne