(The title is a tribute to my rellies in Minnesota. The post is totally random.)
Uh... earlier this evening I checked my nifty online TV guide and saw that my limited (plug-the-tv-into-Ye-olde-electrical-socket) channels had nothihng on. So I went to Ye Olde Video store (yes, I'm out of touch - I don't have Netflix yet). And I rented a DVD.
But I got home at 10PM and I am in the midst of a "life change:" early to bed and early to rise. If you know me as well as we both think you do, you are aware that is a very tough habit to break. So I figured "if I start the movie now, I won't go to bed early, and the habit change will not be in effect."
It is funny I think, habitual patterns. Because indeed I did not put the DVD in, however I am still up. Good Yuck and Good Night.
6.12.2006
6.09.2006
Evil Thoughts About the Ex
The International Ex is in town. The fucker. I know this because I "got wind of it," not from him directly. He has not contacted me since he shot off his uber-vicious e-mail in February. Two days before Valentine's Day, in fact.
As you can tell I am still a little bit hung up, but it's getting easier with time. However! If that fucker doesn't contact me while he's here, I'll be pissed. Furthermore! If that fucker contacts me while he's here, I'll be pissed. Damned if he do, and damned if he don't. And you know what? He's such a chicken shit baby that I know he won't. So I'm pissed.
I'm happy to be slowly losing that childish baggage. Who needs it? He wasn't all that anyway (I tell myself. I tell myself).
As you can tell I am still a little bit hung up, but it's getting easier with time. However! If that fucker doesn't contact me while he's here, I'll be pissed. Furthermore! If that fucker contacts me while he's here, I'll be pissed. Damned if he do, and damned if he don't. And you know what? He's such a chicken shit baby that I know he won't. So I'm pissed.
I'm happy to be slowly losing that childish baggage. Who needs it? He wasn't all that anyway (I tell myself. I tell myself).
Evil Thoughts
Yesterday I was driving home and ahead of me was a Porsche with the top down. Porsches are pretty much common around here, and you can always tell a newish owner because they have the top down when it’s sunny but only 53 degrees, so seeing this silver one cruisng along was no surprise.
As I got closer I could see the driver had his arm resting on the window sill, but in a really funny way, I couldn’t quite figure out how he had his arm positioned. And then we pulled up next to each other at a light. His arm was actually sticking straight up: he was an amputee and was using that [half] arm to hold his cell phone to his ear! My evil thought? “Nice settlement.”
The second I heard myself think that, the Good Mona slapped the Dark Mona upside the head.
5.27.2006
Whoo - Chi-al... Aren't You Lucky
And I most unfortunate? I just spent over 30 minutes, spanned over and hour and a half, writing an assinine post for this blog. And it didn't stick. In fact, apparantly, this blog "was not recognized." Hrmmph. Better for you. Because the post I had written required you to read it in a 19th Century British accent and then question a lot of international current affair tragedies. Honest. So count your American Blessings, because they are one of a kind. Seriously, they are ONE OF A KIND. And, don't waste them!
5.01.2006
Is it okay to...
Hey. Is it okay to want to demolish every sense of being of the person you broke up with for the fact that he is moving on?
There are so many times that I just want to find a public place (usually where he's been) and add some comment like "the idiot speaks." Or, "because I'm an asshole." Or, "..plus, I'm a fuckhead."
Sometimes I wonder if I broke up with him? I mean, I'm sure I did. I guess I just don't like the way he's handling it. Because, fuck, it really seems like he's handling it very well. In fact, I think he's married now? Two months later? Well, that's the way it looks anyway.
Most of all, I hate that the majority of my Darker Side of Me posts are about the nuclear fall-out of me ending a relationship. Correction, MY apparant nuclear fall-out. What the fuck? I mean, I did this to make a better place for myself! And I'm the one that ends up all pissed off.
Furthermore, what I really meant to say above, is that I hate that all my Darker Side of Me posts are about me stomping my own heart out. I don't want the posts to just wallow in some pity that I brought on in the first place. I want to bitch about real shit like traffic and general idiosyncracies of a selfish culture; I want to laugh with y'all about Bush (because there's nothing we can do for the next couple of years but laugh, the way I see it- he's certainly NOT reading his audience). I want to complain about the way a pair of pants fits or a bad date with bad breath and bad manners and crap like that.
But I'm not there yet. I'm close though, so bare with me a little longer. By the way, I went on a date with Casanova. When we were kissing at the end, he "rimmed my lips" with his tongue. I didn't respond. Then a few minutes later he said sensually "give me your tongue" and then he proceeded to suck on it. I got a BIG hint that he was looking for a blow job HELLO. But hey, you know what, Don Juan? Not getting it on the first date. Sorry. However, to make nicey, I will say you're one helluva hot guy, and I wouldn't put it past myself to consider something like that in the future. But please remember, kind sir, that in my line of business (which to the gen public, NO, I'm not a hooker, escort, or dancer of any sort), reputation is key, and sometimes I fear that bedroom may hit boardroom, and that could be a liability. So. Consider yourself informed that things go My Speed. Check. See you for dinner Thursday.
There are so many times that I just want to find a public place (usually where he's been) and add some comment like "the idiot speaks." Or, "because I'm an asshole." Or, "..plus, I'm a fuckhead."
Sometimes I wonder if I broke up with him? I mean, I'm sure I did. I guess I just don't like the way he's handling it. Because, fuck, it really seems like he's handling it very well. In fact, I think he's married now? Two months later? Well, that's the way it looks anyway.
Most of all, I hate that the majority of my Darker Side of Me posts are about the nuclear fall-out of me ending a relationship. Correction, MY apparant nuclear fall-out. What the fuck? I mean, I did this to make a better place for myself! And I'm the one that ends up all pissed off.
Furthermore, what I really meant to say above, is that I hate that all my Darker Side of Me posts are about me stomping my own heart out. I don't want the posts to just wallow in some pity that I brought on in the first place. I want to bitch about real shit like traffic and general idiosyncracies of a selfish culture; I want to laugh with y'all about Bush (because there's nothing we can do for the next couple of years but laugh, the way I see it- he's certainly NOT reading his audience). I want to complain about the way a pair of pants fits or a bad date with bad breath and bad manners and crap like that.
But I'm not there yet. I'm close though, so bare with me a little longer. By the way, I went on a date with Casanova. When we were kissing at the end, he "rimmed my lips" with his tongue. I didn't respond. Then a few minutes later he said sensually "give me your tongue" and then he proceeded to suck on it. I got a BIG hint that he was looking for a blow job HELLO. But hey, you know what, Don Juan? Not getting it on the first date. Sorry. However, to make nicey, I will say you're one helluva hot guy, and I wouldn't put it past myself to consider something like that in the future. But please remember, kind sir, that in my line of business (which to the gen public, NO, I'm not a hooker, escort, or dancer of any sort), reputation is key, and sometimes I fear that bedroom may hit boardroom, and that could be a liability. So. Consider yourself informed that things go My Speed. Check. See you for dinner Thursday.
4.27.2006
Oh, I'm Sorry...
Pardon? Oh, I'm sorry; I didn't see you there.
Who, me? You think I'm dark? Why, I don't know what you mean. No... you must be mistaking me for some other girl. You know who I'm talking about? Why, yes, it is Mona!
Yes, yes... quite right, Mona can be very selfish. What's that? Yes, she can be bitter, too. Should I tell her you said that? No? Okay.
But - no; I haven't seen her lately. Well, last I heard she was quite busy. However! She did break up with some Dutch bozo who has basically "erased" her... yes, her words not mine, but how lame! After a year and a half. Right. And, apparantly he has some new girl who isn't so new at all... No, from what I've heard, she was seen around and even videologged on the internet as being very present right before the goof-ball's visit to Mona. Yes! Imagine the shock.
Anyway, no, you didn't bother me at all. Yes, I will tell Mona you said hi. No, she's around... just gearing up for some crazy trip to Casablanca or something. Yeah, I guess her brother lives there. I know! That would be a cool trip. Well, have a good day. Right. Will do. Er, what's your name? Okay. I'll tell her. Okay! Bye!
Who, me? You think I'm dark? Why, I don't know what you mean. No... you must be mistaking me for some other girl. You know who I'm talking about? Why, yes, it is Mona!
Yes, yes... quite right, Mona can be very selfish. What's that? Yes, she can be bitter, too. Should I tell her you said that? No? Okay.
But - no; I haven't seen her lately. Well, last I heard she was quite busy. However! She did break up with some Dutch bozo who has basically "erased" her... yes, her words not mine, but how lame! After a year and a half. Right. And, apparantly he has some new girl who isn't so new at all... No, from what I've heard, she was seen around and even videologged on the internet as being very present right before the goof-ball's visit to Mona. Yes! Imagine the shock.
Anyway, no, you didn't bother me at all. Yes, I will tell Mona you said hi. No, she's around... just gearing up for some crazy trip to Casablanca or something. Yeah, I guess her brother lives there. I know! That would be a cool trip. Well, have a good day. Right. Will do. Er, what's your name? Okay. I'll tell her. Okay! Bye!
4.17.2006
A letter of discussion from JC
I love this guy. He's a pal of my parents - same generation as them - (happily married and surfing/making commercials in So California) , we've always just clicked. Sometimes he's a little over the top for me, but other times, like in throwing me a few questions the other day, he gets me to actually think about the reasoning behind actions. He'll throw out just a few q's, yet it will take me 45 minutes to respond. At the end, it usually brings better self-understanding:
JC's e-mailed questions:
"I've heard of your fem-technique used before, female-to-male - after the relationship sours, with the gal saying it's over, then executing provocative taunts. Why? - to tease?, to win back?, to reel the fish back into the fem's love boat?"
Mona's self-enlightening response (thanks, JC):
"I wouldn't question the fem-technique. That's like entering a bottomless abyss. Believe me...women, who are so good at pondering/finding answers for things (things need to make sense), don't know why we do this. The only answer I can think of is that this comes to play when the man doesn't outwardly show regret in losing the girl. I am deep enough and empathetical enough to realize that regret is sometimes not outwardly shown, even if it is there. Regardless, there is something innate in we women that just needs to see, wants proof of the fact, that we are good, wanted, and more importantly: missed. I think this happens most when a man comes on like blockbusters and then drops the act "out of nowhere" (obviously it is coming from somewhere, but that's man's territory and we can't decipher the code; it takes too much energy and once deciphered, it usually doesn't make "sense" anyway). For a woman, going from 60 to 0, or pedastal to floor (behind the refrigerator) is a difficult thing to accept. Is the fem-tech to tease? A bit. Fish back? Sometimes (not in this case). Is it passive aggressive? Yes, I hate to admit. Mostly I think, it's to make the drop from queen to pauper a little softer. Because, no matter which girl you are, it's a hard fall to take.
Before you hit the reply button, you should know that above I am only answering your questions. I am like you; fully believing that where you are is where you are, that there is always a changeable path and you are always both directing it and at some point on it. I am comfortable with the decision I made and I can only think at this moment, for the sake of the myself and the path, that that was what needed to happen. I'm taking what comes (including my own obtrusive and innate womanly reactions) in stride, and (hopefully) growing and learning, and thus affecting the path that comes.
All my best,
Mona"
JC's e-mailed questions:
"I've heard of your fem-technique used before, female-to-male - after the relationship sours, with the gal saying it's over, then executing provocative taunts. Why? - to tease?, to win back?, to reel the fish back into the fem's love boat?"
Mona's self-enlightening response (thanks, JC):
"I wouldn't question the fem-technique. That's like entering a bottomless abyss. Believe me...women, who are so good at pondering/finding answers for things (things need to make sense), don't know why we do this. The only answer I can think of is that this comes to play when the man doesn't outwardly show regret in losing the girl. I am deep enough and empathetical enough to realize that regret is sometimes not outwardly shown, even if it is there. Regardless, there is something innate in we women that just needs to see, wants proof of the fact, that we are good, wanted, and more importantly: missed. I think this happens most when a man comes on like blockbusters and then drops the act "out of nowhere" (obviously it is coming from somewhere, but that's man's territory and we can't decipher the code; it takes too much energy and once deciphered, it usually doesn't make "sense" anyway). For a woman, going from 60 to 0, or pedastal to floor (behind the refrigerator) is a difficult thing to accept. Is the fem-tech to tease? A bit. Fish back? Sometimes (not in this case). Is it passive aggressive? Yes, I hate to admit. Mostly I think, it's to make the drop from queen to pauper a little softer. Because, no matter which girl you are, it's a hard fall to take.
Before you hit the reply button, you should know that above I am only answering your questions. I am like you; fully believing that where you are is where you are, that there is always a changeable path and you are always both directing it and at some point on it. I am comfortable with the decision I made and I can only think at this moment, for the sake of the myself and the path, that that was what needed to happen. I'm taking what comes (including my own obtrusive and innate womanly reactions) in stride, and (hopefully) growing and learning, and thus affecting the path that comes.
All my best,
Mona"
4.16.2006
Pillage and Rape
Can I just tell you, for a moment, what a motherfucker my ex-boyfriend is?
He's a big, fat motherfucker. There. I said it.
In my cyber-stalking, I have found that he *instanly!* rebounded with a girl who was around when *I was around.* Hmm. Makes me wonder if he was honest when I asked him the Big Sex Questions.
Furthermore, he's not hiding it anymore. On his photolog, he referred to her as "'da missas" so, I can all but guarantee, he's traded this lovely American model in for a more (dare I say? No, I shan't I'm dark but not that dark)... Local Model (albeit more colorful in clothing and less straight in the teeth departments - shit - ok - I am a little dark after all). So she speaks Dutch and I can't understand her, so I can't tell you if she is as smart as me. I can tell you I hate her voice and her Dutchness. But that could be for other reasons. Actually, not. It's because she's my replacement, goddammit. Regardless, he's a big, fat motherfucker.
I must tell you that there have been NUMEROUS TIMES that I have wanted to,and was able to, rain on his cyber-parade by inserting mean comments about him wherever cyberly possible (in his case, many many places). But again, I'm only a little dark. So I do not do it. Why? Eye for an eye and the Golden Rule. I'd hate to have him do it to me publicly (although he has in a private e-mail - ouch all the same but I let that lay there dead in the water), so I cannot bring myself to expose him as the fool man-child that he is.
As you can very well tell, there is still a bit of sting. It bothers me tremendously. I struggled and fought to make the decision to end the relationship, and still, once decided and after a little reprieve, it haunts me. I see the fucking q-tip jar, almost empty, and it reminds me of when he was here thinking I didn't own q-tips. And I showed him how the medicine cabinet (surprise!) works and we re-filled the jar together. And now, the jar is almost empty again, and everytime I reach for a q-tip (daily) I think of that!!! Stupid girl. Stupid girl must often remind herself that this wasnt' even love, and then stupid girl worries big time that, if this wasn't love, then thinking about a q-tip scenario with someone said girl was actually in love with would be altogether quite worse. So this non-fond memory is okay after all.
Back to the title of the post, though. Granted: a break-up with a generally good (though fool man-child) guy is difficult. Hence the pillage and rape. Because it's like a "WHAMMY!" to those guys, all innocent and not realizing they aren't doing the right things. But it sucks on this end, too. In a way, I feel like I am missing something. I miss sharing what's happening in my life with him (actually, it's all good stuff, but still... erase ERASE!). And you know what sucks even more? Being the stupid girl, who still feels bad about breaking it off, and who still wonders a little, and who cyber-stalks enough to wonder even a little more, and most of all.... most of all it sucks being the stupid girl who whines about break-ups in multiple multiple posts! Yes, realizing that you are not really being dark at the moment, but that you're just being one troubled person of a thousand troubled persons being troubled by the same stupid shit, is the most depressing thing of all.
He's a big, fat motherfucker. There. I said it.
In my cyber-stalking, I have found that he *instanly!* rebounded with a girl who was around when *I was around.* Hmm. Makes me wonder if he was honest when I asked him the Big Sex Questions.
Furthermore, he's not hiding it anymore. On his photolog, he referred to her as "'da missas" so, I can all but guarantee, he's traded this lovely American model in for a more (dare I say? No, I shan't I'm dark but not that dark)... Local Model (albeit more colorful in clothing and less straight in the teeth departments - shit - ok - I am a little dark after all). So she speaks Dutch and I can't understand her, so I can't tell you if she is as smart as me. I can tell you I hate her voice and her Dutchness. But that could be for other reasons. Actually, not. It's because she's my replacement, goddammit. Regardless, he's a big, fat motherfucker.
I must tell you that there have been NUMEROUS TIMES that I have wanted to,and was able to, rain on his cyber-parade by inserting mean comments about him wherever cyberly possible (in his case, many many places). But again, I'm only a little dark. So I do not do it. Why? Eye for an eye and the Golden Rule. I'd hate to have him do it to me publicly (although he has in a private e-mail - ouch all the same but I let that lay there dead in the water), so I cannot bring myself to expose him as the fool man-child that he is.
As you can very well tell, there is still a bit of sting. It bothers me tremendously. I struggled and fought to make the decision to end the relationship, and still, once decided and after a little reprieve, it haunts me. I see the fucking q-tip jar, almost empty, and it reminds me of when he was here thinking I didn't own q-tips. And I showed him how the medicine cabinet (surprise!) works and we re-filled the jar together. And now, the jar is almost empty again, and everytime I reach for a q-tip (daily) I think of that!!! Stupid girl. Stupid girl must often remind herself that this wasnt' even love, and then stupid girl worries big time that, if this wasn't love, then thinking about a q-tip scenario with someone said girl was actually in love with would be altogether quite worse. So this non-fond memory is okay after all.
Back to the title of the post, though. Granted: a break-up with a generally good (though fool man-child) guy is difficult. Hence the pillage and rape. Because it's like a "WHAMMY!" to those guys, all innocent and not realizing they aren't doing the right things. But it sucks on this end, too. In a way, I feel like I am missing something. I miss sharing what's happening in my life with him (actually, it's all good stuff, but still... erase ERASE!). And you know what sucks even more? Being the stupid girl, who still feels bad about breaking it off, and who still wonders a little, and who cyber-stalks enough to wonder even a little more, and most of all.... most of all it sucks being the stupid girl who whines about break-ups in multiple multiple posts! Yes, realizing that you are not really being dark at the moment, but that you're just being one troubled person of a thousand troubled persons being troubled by the same stupid shit, is the most depressing thing of all.
4.06.2006
What Up? A Sad Song
Er... I don't really know how to add audio. But I'm gonna try right now. Cuz this song, I wrote a long time ago (and yeah, sounds a bit like I was drinking and singing my blues away). Does it come on? [ed note later: no. Sorry.]
4.05.2006
"C" Is For...
... Cancer. It's unfortunate, really, morbid in fact, to be the one and only astrological sign that shares its name with an illness which is, the majority of the time, terminal. It's a big bummer, to be frank.
I mean, there are no other astrological signs that are synonymous with a deadly disease. It's quite unfair, if you think about it. No one ever says, in a quiet tone, "she died from Aries," or Scorpio, or Taurus. No, not related to something morbid at all, those signs. If anyone happened to suddenly die, then at least, one could proudly say that he or she simply had an ill-fated infatuation with someone of another astrological sign, and it would be death categorized in the from love (or unrequited love), and that would be quite romantic.
But, oh! To be a "Cancer." The term, since the word refers to other ills (the obvious- cancer: a disease which materializes within the body and eats away at the body's tissue until it can no longer operate - and the less obvious - the metaphorical nomiker "cancer," in which a person is considered to be clingy and suffocating, or one who spreads negativity), does not ring lightly or cheerily in human ears, whether speaking of signs or not. It is loaded with negativity; so much so that I often refrain from referencing it when describing myself.
But here's the funny thing. Cancer, the sign that is, is the one most identifiable thing about me. Now, don't take me for some hippie-dippy astrology freak. I'm just saying that, in my three decades on the earth, only my family origin and my astrological sign have made me feel real, definable, and understood. So what I'm saying is that, of the few things I can solidly rely on to come back to my true... my true... "soul identity" I guess I'll call it, is something for which the majority of the world cringes upon hearing when uttered. Cancer.
On that note and on a somewhat half-baked tangent, I want to know something. I want to know something about the questions doctors and researchers ask people who have been identified as having lung cancer yet have never smoked. Because I seriously think it has a lot to do with all the consumer product shit that we either have and swear by or are being forced to believe is required for "cleanliness."
So, here are my questions that I hope to God the reasearchers and doctors are asking, so we can eliminate possible cancer enducers in the future. If they are not asking them yet, I hope someone reads this and passes it along:
Where do you live (I have a feeling most of these cases are in US or highly industry-related cities)?
Recall to the best of your ability what brand of foods did you eat as a child?
Recall to the best of your ability what cleaning brands/products your family used when you were growing up?
Recall to the best of your ability what brand of pesticides, herbicides, plant food products, pest control products, mosquito repellent, etc your family used habitually?
Name the major brands and products of foods that you have consistently eaten in the last 5 years.
Name the brands of cleaning products you have conisistenly used in the last 5 years.
Name the pesticides, herbicides, plant food products, pest control products, mosquito repellents etc you have used in the last 5 years.
Do you drink coffee, soda, tea, and in what quantities daily
What percentage of your diet is made up of processed food, including items such as homogenized milk products (cheese, butter, milk) and fortified bread products?
Do you consume any products that are replacements ("artificial") for other products, such as CoffeeMate, Equal, Egg Beaters, etc.
Do you use aerosole chemical products of any sort in your home?
OK, I am thinking now that my list could go on and on and soon enough, I would start a grassroots organization in which the constituents would be 250 times more invested in than me. But I think you get my drift: non-smoking lung cancer makes absolutely no sense. Something is happening here, and I think, once again, it can be pinned on our infamous private sector, which is attempting to make a fortune on making our lives easier by introducing products that destroy not only us but our world. Exponentially, it seems.
And so now, with this teeny bit of extremism that I have introduced (yet another one of my "lovely" Cancerian characteristics), you can see how I get all bent out of shape by being a Cancer. Can't you?
I mean, there are no other astrological signs that are synonymous with a deadly disease. It's quite unfair, if you think about it. No one ever says, in a quiet tone, "she died from Aries," or Scorpio, or Taurus. No, not related to something morbid at all, those signs. If anyone happened to suddenly die, then at least, one could proudly say that he or she simply had an ill-fated infatuation with someone of another astrological sign, and it would be death categorized in the from love (or unrequited love), and that would be quite romantic.
But, oh! To be a "Cancer." The term, since the word refers to other ills (the obvious- cancer: a disease which materializes within the body and eats away at the body's tissue until it can no longer operate - and the less obvious - the metaphorical nomiker "cancer," in which a person is considered to be clingy and suffocating, or one who spreads negativity), does not ring lightly or cheerily in human ears, whether speaking of signs or not. It is loaded with negativity; so much so that I often refrain from referencing it when describing myself.
But here's the funny thing. Cancer, the sign that is, is the one most identifiable thing about me. Now, don't take me for some hippie-dippy astrology freak. I'm just saying that, in my three decades on the earth, only my family origin and my astrological sign have made me feel real, definable, and understood. So what I'm saying is that, of the few things I can solidly rely on to come back to my true... my true... "soul identity" I guess I'll call it, is something for which the majority of the world cringes upon hearing when uttered. Cancer.
On that note and on a somewhat half-baked tangent, I want to know something. I want to know something about the questions doctors and researchers ask people who have been identified as having lung cancer yet have never smoked. Because I seriously think it has a lot to do with all the consumer product shit that we either have and swear by or are being forced to believe is required for "cleanliness."
So, here are my questions that I hope to God the reasearchers and doctors are asking, so we can eliminate possible cancer enducers in the future. If they are not asking them yet, I hope someone reads this and passes it along:
Where do you live (I have a feeling most of these cases are in US or highly industry-related cities)?
Recall to the best of your ability what brand of foods did you eat as a child?
Recall to the best of your ability what cleaning brands/products your family used when you were growing up?
Recall to the best of your ability what brand of pesticides, herbicides, plant food products, pest control products, mosquito repellent, etc your family used habitually?
Name the major brands and products of foods that you have consistently eaten in the last 5 years.
Name the brands of cleaning products you have conisistenly used in the last 5 years.
Name the pesticides, herbicides, plant food products, pest control products, mosquito repellents etc you have used in the last 5 years.
Do you drink coffee, soda, tea, and in what quantities daily
What percentage of your diet is made up of processed food, including items such as homogenized milk products (cheese, butter, milk) and fortified bread products?
Do you consume any products that are replacements ("artificial") for other products, such as CoffeeMate, Equal, Egg Beaters, etc.
Do you use aerosole chemical products of any sort in your home?
OK, I am thinking now that my list could go on and on and soon enough, I would start a grassroots organization in which the constituents would be 250 times more invested in than me. But I think you get my drift: non-smoking lung cancer makes absolutely no sense. Something is happening here, and I think, once again, it can be pinned on our infamous private sector, which is attempting to make a fortune on making our lives easier by introducing products that destroy not only us but our world. Exponentially, it seems.
And so now, with this teeny bit of extremism that I have introduced (yet another one of my "lovely" Cancerian characteristics), you can see how I get all bent out of shape by being a Cancer. Can't you?
3.30.2006
And the Dalai Lama Says
I don't claim to be an avid reader of the philosophies of the Dalai Lama. But I flipped through a book today of quips and wisdoms of the DL, and basically, what I read told me that gathering love for *everyone* would help eliminate Anger, with a capital "A."
So. Anger. I don't have much of it. Unless, of course, absolute frustration is equal to "Anger" in the DL's view.
Quite honestly, society today frustrates me to no end. No end! I wonder, sometimes, if the DL lived in San Francisco, if his philosophies would hold true.
Take, for example, the selfish culture of today. Many a time I will be walking down the street only to be sidled to the gutter, or end up "shouldering" a person (er, definitely NOT DL style) because soemone felt they owned the sidewalk. Or, on a different level, there have been many times where I have held a door open or moved out of the way on the sidewalk, only to have my intentions of generous compliance completely unnoticed. Unnoticed!
That is when the gravy hits the dirt for me. Time and time again in San Francisco, generosity or pleasantry goes completely unnoticed. How, may I ask, does the DL fill these circumstances with love? Oh, how I wouldn't give anything to see him try to keep up his philosophical dream while trying to park his VW near his pied-a-terre here in SF. Quite frankly, I think he'd issue a whole other ballgame.
I try hard to just appreciate the plain fact that I did something good and generous, on the occasion that I let a hotsy-totsy Marina Girl move me out of the way on Chestnut Street, or when I open a door for someone more frail than myself. But honestly, when these acts of graciousness go completely unnoticed it is difficult to continue on the so-called path of purity and goodness. The path gets rocky and clouded and obscure. It gets hard to define. So much so, that you are left with only one question, and that is: "is what I am doing making an actual difference?" And out here, in la-la land, it is hard to render an answer. Because a few times out of 100, it is clear that someone notices and is thankful of your human kindness, appreciative at the very least. But the other 97 times it takes to get there is a tough pill to swallow, and sometimes I wonder if this is the lesson that the DL meant to have us all tackle. That is, "If you are pleasant and obliging and giving love to humankind 100% of the time, is it okay that they only reciprocate it 2% of the time?"
So. Anger. I don't have much of it. Unless, of course, absolute frustration is equal to "Anger" in the DL's view.
Quite honestly, society today frustrates me to no end. No end! I wonder, sometimes, if the DL lived in San Francisco, if his philosophies would hold true.
Take, for example, the selfish culture of today. Many a time I will be walking down the street only to be sidled to the gutter, or end up "shouldering" a person (er, definitely NOT DL style) because soemone felt they owned the sidewalk. Or, on a different level, there have been many times where I have held a door open or moved out of the way on the sidewalk, only to have my intentions of generous compliance completely unnoticed. Unnoticed!
That is when the gravy hits the dirt for me. Time and time again in San Francisco, generosity or pleasantry goes completely unnoticed. How, may I ask, does the DL fill these circumstances with love? Oh, how I wouldn't give anything to see him try to keep up his philosophical dream while trying to park his VW near his pied-a-terre here in SF. Quite frankly, I think he'd issue a whole other ballgame.
I try hard to just appreciate the plain fact that I did something good and generous, on the occasion that I let a hotsy-totsy Marina Girl move me out of the way on Chestnut Street, or when I open a door for someone more frail than myself. But honestly, when these acts of graciousness go completely unnoticed it is difficult to continue on the so-called path of purity and goodness. The path gets rocky and clouded and obscure. It gets hard to define. So much so, that you are left with only one question, and that is: "is what I am doing making an actual difference?" And out here, in la-la land, it is hard to render an answer. Because a few times out of 100, it is clear that someone notices and is thankful of your human kindness, appreciative at the very least. But the other 97 times it takes to get there is a tough pill to swallow, and sometimes I wonder if this is the lesson that the DL meant to have us all tackle. That is, "If you are pleasant and obliging and giving love to humankind 100% of the time, is it okay that they only reciprocate it 2% of the time?"
3.17.2006
What Up
hmm
here's the thing. I think about him everyday still, but I don't pine for him. I just wonder. Just wonder what he is doing and what he is up to. Is that Dark? Is it Dark if I stalk a little teeny tiny bit to see what emails are coming in? I don't think so. Especially not when several of those emails are coming from Playboy. OK. Glad my e-mails aren't competing with that anymore. I'd just like this to be over.
Watching Telefutura isn't any help. It just improves my Spanish. Which I don't really want to do. I guess I'm watching because there is nothing else on?
Speaking of Spanish, that damned Spanish guitar instructor, whom I met at my friend's bday, keeps calling and emailing and calling, and I don't know what to do other than ignore? Any help out there? I certainly do NOT want to take him up on his offer to play songs to me in the park... ugh.
here's the thing. I think about him everyday still, but I don't pine for him. I just wonder. Just wonder what he is doing and what he is up to. Is that Dark? Is it Dark if I stalk a little teeny tiny bit to see what emails are coming in? I don't think so. Especially not when several of those emails are coming from Playboy. OK. Glad my e-mails aren't competing with that anymore. I'd just like this to be over.
Watching Telefutura isn't any help. It just improves my Spanish. Which I don't really want to do. I guess I'm watching because there is nothing else on?
Speaking of Spanish, that damned Spanish guitar instructor, whom I met at my friend's bday, keeps calling and emailing and calling, and I don't know what to do other than ignore? Any help out there? I certainly do NOT want to take him up on his offer to play songs to me in the park... ugh.
2.27.2006
I Hate to Admit
I hate to admit it, but I am not feeling so Dark lately. Nothing to complain about. Please stand by...
2.17.2006
Is Post Break-up Stalking Normal?
I think post break-up stalking is normal. I didn't say it was healthy, but it's pretty normal. Normal, that is, when one part of the ended partnership just wants some clues about how we arrived at splitting.
The funny thing is, I ended it, he's the one who was surprised... but I'm the one stalking.
Now, I'm stalking in a pretty covert way, and although I have discovered tons of ammo to use if he ever decides to say he was "wronged." But then he'll know I was "doing research," and then he'll just think I'm psycho. So disclosing the ammo is not really an option. But here's a clue to all of you internet junkies who have your info all over numerous sites and you use your real name or one singular handle across the board... you. are. very. easy. to. track. So, beware. From statcounters that identify where you live, the number of times you've been where, how long you were there and where you went, to tags and links that show you associate with other groups, to rss feeds of your posts or comments being directly sent to someone's feed aggregator, there's a lot of ways to see what you've been up to.
So yes, part of what pissed me off and made me end my long distance relationship was the fact that I could see him doing really stupid stuff on the internet, like commenting on his buddies' blogs or making a video of himself flipping the world off, instead of trying to contact me when I was not sleeping. Now, don't get me wrong, I was not glued to the computer, but DUH, comments have a time and date stamp. So do posts. So do videos. Additionally, it's not like I was asking for him to contact me more than before. I was just desparately hoping for the same level.
Anyway, I have another secret. Somehow, probably he never signed out when he was here to visit, I can enter his feed aggregator from my compu, which shows the titles (not the content) of his email account. I had to translate it (thanks, Babblefish!), but I found one today that said he had a new message from his online profile at ---.com dating site. Hello! Fucker. Not only that - the online profile pic is one that I took of him on our August vacation. Not only that - he's been active since October. Bastard.
Normal or not, healthy or not, psycho or not, I feel good about the things I've learned from the stalking. He was certainly not where he claimed to be emotionally throughout our relationship. No wonder he couldn't articulate his feelings, he probably thought they would hurt me. And, the fucker, he's still wearing the shirt I bought him when he came to visit me, which obviously means it's just a shirt and doesn't hold any sentimental value. Well, not obviously. One thing I've learned about long distance relationships, is that if there is not clear and constanct communication, both parties end up making assumptions about half the stuff going on.
So. Long distance is now absolutely out of the question!
The funny thing is, I ended it, he's the one who was surprised... but I'm the one stalking.
Now, I'm stalking in a pretty covert way, and although I have discovered tons of ammo to use if he ever decides to say he was "wronged." But then he'll know I was "doing research," and then he'll just think I'm psycho. So disclosing the ammo is not really an option. But here's a clue to all of you internet junkies who have your info all over numerous sites and you use your real name or one singular handle across the board... you. are. very. easy. to. track. So, beware. From statcounters that identify where you live, the number of times you've been where, how long you were there and where you went, to tags and links that show you associate with other groups, to rss feeds of your posts or comments being directly sent to someone's feed aggregator, there's a lot of ways to see what you've been up to.
So yes, part of what pissed me off and made me end my long distance relationship was the fact that I could see him doing really stupid stuff on the internet, like commenting on his buddies' blogs or making a video of himself flipping the world off, instead of trying to contact me when I was not sleeping. Now, don't get me wrong, I was not glued to the computer, but DUH, comments have a time and date stamp. So do posts. So do videos. Additionally, it's not like I was asking for him to contact me more than before. I was just desparately hoping for the same level.
Anyway, I have another secret. Somehow, probably he never signed out when he was here to visit, I can enter his feed aggregator from my compu, which shows the titles (not the content) of his email account. I had to translate it (thanks, Babblefish!), but I found one today that said he had a new message from his online profile at ---.com dating site. Hello! Fucker. Not only that - the online profile pic is one that I took of him on our August vacation. Not only that - he's been active since October. Bastard.
Normal or not, healthy or not, psycho or not, I feel good about the things I've learned from the stalking. He was certainly not where he claimed to be emotionally throughout our relationship. No wonder he couldn't articulate his feelings, he probably thought they would hurt me. And, the fucker, he's still wearing the shirt I bought him when he came to visit me, which obviously means it's just a shirt and doesn't hold any sentimental value. Well, not obviously. One thing I've learned about long distance relationships, is that if there is not clear and constanct communication, both parties end up making assumptions about half the stuff going on.
So. Long distance is now absolutely out of the question!
2.16.2006
While You Were Sleeping
And... while you were sleeping 10,000 miles away, I decided to end it.
There. Said and done. Said and DONE. Yes, I'm done. Working with your gifts, and faults, I have decided that the faults (for me) win. They win!
May your gifts be true gifts to someone special. I truly hope that you find someone who can apprciate them in the long run. Because in my case, your gifts that made me so so happy only lasted a short while. And yes, again, I know you weren't joking about moving to SF. I just couldn't see, with your interest waning, how it was justified?
So, thank you for your extremely venemouse email. I hate (love) you, too. Butwith poison like that, it just can't work. You are like a snake who coils all shiny and peaceful, and then PFFSS! Venom. Unacceptable. I will not endure that. Asshole.
So you're pissed. You're lashing out? Oh, I surprised you? Woops. But it shouldn't have been a surprise - you admitted it yourself 3 times.
But you know what? I'm okay. Really, I've clearly noticed our "age difference" (ahh one year, but one year indeed). And you, although fabulous, and giving, and amazing... are a step behind. It's unfortunate, really, because we could have! Could! Have! Been! Great! Tant pis pour tois (too bad for you). Quand meme, tant pis pour moi au meme contre. Dommage.
So, here I am. Moving On. Yes, I am! I'm focused! Driven! Inspired, even! To KICK ASS this year and prove everyone wrong. I'm not a flailing flower that you need to pick up and coddle anymore.... I am just blooming. So fuck off with you and your poison words, your venom, and let me go. Don't be mad, there's 10,000 miles that you refused to cross after all, 10,000 miles. That's a long way to go if you only just like the girl. But SHIT! I'm quite attractive, inside and out, so what was your problem with me?
Who knows. And at this point, unfortunately for you, I don't care. I don't care anymore. Cheers you psycho-disappearing-Gemini. Cheers.
There. Said and done. Said and DONE. Yes, I'm done. Working with your gifts, and faults, I have decided that the faults (for me) win. They win!
May your gifts be true gifts to someone special. I truly hope that you find someone who can apprciate them in the long run. Because in my case, your gifts that made me so so happy only lasted a short while. And yes, again, I know you weren't joking about moving to SF. I just couldn't see, with your interest waning, how it was justified?
So, thank you for your extremely venemouse email. I hate (love) you, too. Butwith poison like that, it just can't work. You are like a snake who coils all shiny and peaceful, and then PFFSS! Venom. Unacceptable. I will not endure that. Asshole.
So you're pissed. You're lashing out? Oh, I surprised you? Woops. But it shouldn't have been a surprise - you admitted it yourself 3 times.
But you know what? I'm okay. Really, I've clearly noticed our "age difference" (ahh one year, but one year indeed). And you, although fabulous, and giving, and amazing... are a step behind. It's unfortunate, really, because we could have! Could! Have! Been! Great! Tant pis pour tois (too bad for you). Quand meme, tant pis pour moi au meme contre. Dommage.
So, here I am. Moving On. Yes, I am! I'm focused! Driven! Inspired, even! To KICK ASS this year and prove everyone wrong. I'm not a flailing flower that you need to pick up and coddle anymore.... I am just blooming. So fuck off with you and your poison words, your venom, and let me go. Don't be mad, there's 10,000 miles that you refused to cross after all, 10,000 miles. That's a long way to go if you only just like the girl. But SHIT! I'm quite attractive, inside and out, so what was your problem with me?
Who knows. And at this point, unfortunately for you, I don't care. I don't care anymore. Cheers you psycho-disappearing-Gemini. Cheers.
2.11.2006
The Funniest Thing
The funniest thing, about this blog, is... is that nobody reads it! Ha ha ha. No, really; I am laughing about it. Because this blog is practically a tribute to the most depressive and lackluster times in one's life. Here, here. Or, hopefully, in your case, never "Here, here."
My greatest hope is that you won't become as dark as this. As I have said times before, this is a dark place. What you don't know about me, the author, however, is that I rarely come here. Because I am generally not this way, i.e., not disturbed enough by general occurances to find a high-dive while fully clothed.
Lately, it's seemed as my life has been very pathetic. I thought I was completely incapable of success in my new career, that my long distance love affair was doomed, and that paying the bills amidst all of this was impossible. The bigger problem was that I believed myself - in all of these things.
I feel fortunate, however, and as odd as it may sound, to come from a post-Depression-era family. Why? Because in post-Depression families (and, yes, that is the Great Depression of the 20's, not the "standard" depression of today) you had to work to survive, or at the very least, work so that your family could eat and be clothed. Didn't matter if you were a scientist gathering coal, or a banker selling socks, you fucking made it work. You had to: a family depended on you to make it work.
And then the family grew up, safe and sound, probably with a better education (either from life or scholarly intrigue) but not without "rules of engagement" for The Possible Loss of Everything. And under this umbrella, I, and many others, was raised.
So now, while I look at my entreprenreurial endeavors and how they are panning (or not - HELLO!) out, I look 2 generations before me. I look beyond my upbringing, and that of my parents, and look to their parents. And there, just there, I find the strength to slap myself in the face, say to myself "get it done," and I DO it. I do! Albeit in babysteps. And, yes, it's slightly in part to my parents, but it's mostly because of theirs. I hate the concept of the "welfare society," no matter whether it is defined by The Government or The Family. Bring. It. On: I'll manage.
You'll see.
My greatest hope is that you won't become as dark as this. As I have said times before, this is a dark place. What you don't know about me, the author, however, is that I rarely come here. Because I am generally not this way, i.e., not disturbed enough by general occurances to find a high-dive while fully clothed.
Lately, it's seemed as my life has been very pathetic. I thought I was completely incapable of success in my new career, that my long distance love affair was doomed, and that paying the bills amidst all of this was impossible. The bigger problem was that I believed myself - in all of these things.
I feel fortunate, however, and as odd as it may sound, to come from a post-Depression-era family. Why? Because in post-Depression families (and, yes, that is the Great Depression of the 20's, not the "standard" depression of today) you had to work to survive, or at the very least, work so that your family could eat and be clothed. Didn't matter if you were a scientist gathering coal, or a banker selling socks, you fucking made it work. You had to: a family depended on you to make it work.
And then the family grew up, safe and sound, probably with a better education (either from life or scholarly intrigue) but not without "rules of engagement" for The Possible Loss of Everything. And under this umbrella, I, and many others, was raised.
So now, while I look at my entreprenreurial endeavors and how they are panning (or not - HELLO!) out, I look 2 generations before me. I look beyond my upbringing, and that of my parents, and look to their parents. And there, just there, I find the strength to slap myself in the face, say to myself "get it done," and I DO it. I do! Albeit in babysteps. And, yes, it's slightly in part to my parents, but it's mostly because of theirs. I hate the concept of the "welfare society," no matter whether it is defined by The Government or The Family. Bring. It. On: I'll manage.
You'll see.
And This is Why
... and this is why I am not drinking for the next month. Because it is 2:58am, and I am putzing about, and I am SO ready to DRIVE to the store to buy cigarettes. Stupid. Goodnight, then, good night.
2.03.2006
Attempt to Move On
For a very long time I tried not to fall back on you. Because what if, one day, I went to fall back and you weren’t there? After your trip here I trusted that I could fall back and you’d always be there. But I must have been wrong.
I learned a lot from having you in my life. I will miss you.
I learned a lot from having you in my life. I will miss you.
1.31.2006
Mona's Man Tip #2
We all know men can be insenstive and that women are very often overly sensitive. This is why we have difficulty communicating. Even with random strangers.
So here's another tip for men: If you unexpectedly encounter a woman you've never met (i.e., due to answering an "for sale" ad on Craigslist.org), and you misunderstood her initial e-mail instructions and you are frustrated things aren't going as you expected, don't, I repeat DON'T say this: "No wonder you're not married!" You should never say this to a woman, especially to a woman who is over 30 (even though she doesn't look like it, er, maybe I did in that light...) who is more than likely already beating herself up about being over 30 and not being married!
First of all, it won't help win her over to your side (or give you the entertainment center you thought you were buying because you live in la-la land and don't read). Second of all, what men need to realize is that their odd insensicle outbursts, that come into their head and then out of the mouth and then disappear, stay with women much longer.
Good rule of thumb here: if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all.
So here's another tip for men: If you unexpectedly encounter a woman you've never met (i.e., due to answering an "for sale" ad on Craigslist.org), and you misunderstood her initial e-mail instructions and you are frustrated things aren't going as you expected, don't, I repeat DON'T say this: "No wonder you're not married!" You should never say this to a woman, especially to a woman who is over 30 (even though she doesn't look like it, er, maybe I did in that light...) who is more than likely already beating herself up about being over 30 and not being married!
First of all, it won't help win her over to your side (or give you the entertainment center you thought you were buying because you live in la-la land and don't read). Second of all, what men need to realize is that their odd insensicle outbursts, that come into their head and then out of the mouth and then disappear, stay with women much longer.
Good rule of thumb here: if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all.
1.30.2006
I Hate Pennies
Dear People Who Decide What U.S. Currency Should Be,
Thank you for making some of our paper bills pretty (although, making them more like EU money would be cooler). I can't wait until all the solid green bills are out of circulation and all we have is rainbow money.
You even did cool stuff with quarters and nickels. I suppose next on your agenda is the dime.
However, before you get completely down the list of coins to update, please just eliminate altogether the penny. It's a ridiculous use of metal, machines and man hours. I have all of mine in a zip-lock bag because I hate carrying them around. And, more importantly, not having a penny change on me when I need it can reak unnecessary havoc. One cent. Who cares! What a peon of a valuation. I slowy accumulate enough pennies to make a dollar. Even homeless people are insulted by pennies. Really, they would prefer the minumum is a nickel. "Sir, if you had a choice, would you prefer someone give you a handfull of nickels or a handfull of pennies?" I dare you to go out on the street and ask them.
So please give sincere cosideration to my request. Inflation alone has flat out eliminated the penny. People drop them and don't care, people leave them at the counter because they don't want the weight in their pockets, and stores often give them away freely if you don't quite make change. Just eliminate them already!
Kind regards,
Mona
Thank you for making some of our paper bills pretty (although, making them more like EU money would be cooler). I can't wait until all the solid green bills are out of circulation and all we have is rainbow money.
You even did cool stuff with quarters and nickels. I suppose next on your agenda is the dime.
However, before you get completely down the list of coins to update, please just eliminate altogether the penny. It's a ridiculous use of metal, machines and man hours. I have all of mine in a zip-lock bag because I hate carrying them around. And, more importantly, not having a penny change on me when I need it can reak unnecessary havoc. One cent. Who cares! What a peon of a valuation. I slowy accumulate enough pennies to make a dollar. Even homeless people are insulted by pennies. Really, they would prefer the minumum is a nickel. "Sir, if you had a choice, would you prefer someone give you a handfull of nickels or a handfull of pennies?" I dare you to go out on the street and ask them.
So please give sincere cosideration to my request. Inflation alone has flat out eliminated the penny. People drop them and don't care, people leave them at the counter because they don't want the weight in their pockets, and stores often give them away freely if you don't quite make change. Just eliminate them already!
Kind regards,
Mona
1.28.2006
Wise?
Uh. Yeah. Was it wise of me to set this up to FeedBurner? Because.... it's really discouraging to see that NO ONE has subscribed to my feed. Pathetic.
Add me feed me add me feed me. If you don't know how to do that - e-mail me and I'll tell you - it's really easy!
Add me feed me add me feed me. If you don't know how to do that - e-mail me and I'll tell you - it's really easy!
1.27.2006
You Suck And...
You Suck. And, you don't. This is not how I wanted this blog to go.
There you are, on the other side of this "pond" having your own life. And here I am, wondering whether to post my feelings on my own blog or to the "rants and raves" section of Craigslist.
Why? Because I want to rant the shit out of this. I have a lot of frustration. There is a lot to rave about with you, too. Fuck. I hate you. And... I don't.
Here's the problem with pragmatism: you see both sides. Look for the balance. To be pragmatic is to be always looking for a soft spot between a rock and a hard place.
So, here I have been trying to see both sides of how you treat me. I love your generosity. But it is in all these f'd up kinds of ways. You spent tons of dough getting me nice gifts and coming to visit. You've spent a year having long talks with me. You have spent a lot of time helping me get my business in a prominent place on the internet. You're "hosting" a lot of my content.
However you are not generous in your communication. You are not generous anymore with your time. You have not shared your heart. I feel like the last thing on your "to-do" list.
And so I wonder. Actually, I don't wonder anymore. I guess I'm not being so pragmatic, after all. I am not weighing your side; I don't see that you have a VALID side at all. You are losing me, you are losing me, you are losing me. But at the same time I am super sad about the things you have to offer, and the things I HAVE to offer, and the fact that all those things have gone to waste for a while.
This morning I realized I am ready to let someone else enjoy the great things about you. Well, not completley, but I'm getting there. It doesn't make sense for me to cling to you when there could be a woman out there who will make you want to be the best man you can be.
There you are, on the other side of this "pond" having your own life. And here I am, wondering whether to post my feelings on my own blog or to the "rants and raves" section of Craigslist.
Why? Because I want to rant the shit out of this. I have a lot of frustration. There is a lot to rave about with you, too. Fuck. I hate you. And... I don't.
Here's the problem with pragmatism: you see both sides. Look for the balance. To be pragmatic is to be always looking for a soft spot between a rock and a hard place.
So, here I have been trying to see both sides of how you treat me. I love your generosity. But it is in all these f'd up kinds of ways. You spent tons of dough getting me nice gifts and coming to visit. You've spent a year having long talks with me. You have spent a lot of time helping me get my business in a prominent place on the internet. You're "hosting" a lot of my content.
However you are not generous in your communication. You are not generous anymore with your time. You have not shared your heart. I feel like the last thing on your "to-do" list.
And so I wonder. Actually, I don't wonder anymore. I guess I'm not being so pragmatic, after all. I am not weighing your side; I don't see that you have a VALID side at all. You are losing me, you are losing me, you are losing me. But at the same time I am super sad about the things you have to offer, and the things I HAVE to offer, and the fact that all those things have gone to waste for a while.
This morning I realized I am ready to let someone else enjoy the great things about you. Well, not completley, but I'm getting there. It doesn't make sense for me to cling to you when there could be a woman out there who will make you want to be the best man you can be.
1.24.2006
The Whole Story
This story is not for the faint of heart. Anyone who has given themselves completely to another will undoubtedly find some resonating qualities. Especially if you are a Cancer or you have given yourself completely to an ASSHOLE.
This is the most recent history of my long distance relationship:
I took that week after M left to try and think about things. It was really easy to do because he never once contacted me. In fact, since he has been back (3 weeks now) he has only contacted me 3 times. Can you already note I'm a bit peeved?
Back to M's departure. I decided to not contact him for a week and reflect. In that week I realized I really couldn't sort my own ideas out because I had no idea how he felt about me. I knew that if he said this could really be something, that I would give it a go. But he has never said anything other than "you're cute." What the fuck does that mean? Somehow the next time we talked I needed him to actually verbalize on a scale of "i like you - i care a lot for you - I love you" how he feels for me to really know how to proceed. Of course I am not stupid enough to demand and break it down like that.
Anyway, I had to "schedule" our next conversation, because he didn't seem to have any concept of time nor the need to contact me at all. That convo happened last Monday, almost a week after he got back.
Before I go on I want to tell you that I am a Cancer, and inherently with relationships that means I have a very hard shell around my heart, it is guarded with armor until a point at which I think it is ok to trust that a person can give me what I need and it is then a pleasure for me to give all I can to that person. Then I am 150% in. During the trip M pretty much broke down the wall, so I really just needed to hear that it was worth it to break it down. Even tho you may think it is "high maintenance," once I am "in" I need a lot of affirmation that I am giving so much of myself to the right person.
So, after a little catch up of the week after the trip, I did say that I didn't know how he felt about me. He said "I can't believe you don't know how I feel about you!" But he didn't actually then tell me, so I have, after 3 weeks come to my own conclusions, and if they are wrong, it's his fault for not clarifying.
But I digress. In that convo I told him that I felt a little neglected; that because he hadn't tried to contact me I felt like I wasn't important to him, he gave me a "pfh, oh come on." We talked and he said he was still thinking of moving to here (geez, can't tell me how he feels but he's moving here for me), and all the hang-ups he has to weigh, like leaving when he has good career ops, leaving in general, and what if he moves here and we break up, then what does he have? I told him he's putting the cart before the horse, because I need to feel like I am missed and important and I am not getting that, and these are things I will always need in a relationship, and if he doesn't want to, or isn't capable, of doing it now, then there will never be concern about moving here because we won't make it to that point. He said that I was fully capable of contacting him too, and I agreed, but I also informed him that when he contacts me on his own volition it makes my day and makes me feel amazing blah blah blah so please try...he said he understood and would try to contact me more but he didn't want it to feel like an obligation. I said I don't want it to feel like he's being forced either, and we both felt a little better.
I still didn't hear how he feels about me, but based on how he communicates I could safely say it was minimally "cares a lot." I was giving him a lot of the benefit of the doubt, convincing myself that his inability to communicate his feelings to me, along with the fact that he didn't communicate as often as I would like, were all cause of his being Foreign, and that maybe that's just not how it's done There, and maybe the previous women in his life have never asked it of him. But after that Big Talk, he disappeared again. I rationalized that with the whole "2 jobs, the wedding video and the website" i.e., his really busy factor, but it was getting harder and harder to rationalize. I was wondering if thinking he "cares a lot" was being a little aggressive on my part and that "he's just not into me" was more where we stood.
It was very difficult but I refused to contact him first. The stupid thing about him though, is that he leaves a very obvious trail of activity - so I can see when he is online and not contacting me, and I can when he is trolling his friends blogs and leaving comments and he's not bothering to contact me. So I was getting really pissed because what am I, an afterthought? And then I realized that I have broken down the walls for someone who I am pretty sure was not worth it, someone who I am not important to at all. Now, this is very hard for a cancer to accept, and it hurts like shit, and when we re-build the wall it is even stronger than the last time. But honestly, I refuse to be the last task on M's to-do list.
So basically, this past week has been really horrible for me. I feel very hurt, especially because he is sitting over there going on with his life completely clueless of how it is impacting me.
This takes me to today, the 3rd contact from him since he left. He IM'd me, and I felt sick to my stomach. I didn't accuse or ask any questions even though I was wondering how he thought not talking to me for a week was stepping up? Instead I let the IM flow naturally, seeing where he would take it. And he took it to M-land. Meaning, the 15 min IM session was all about him. Then I had to go and he had to eat, and I shut down the computer. But I was really fucking pissed - I felt like I was his goddamn penpal therapist. So I turned the compu back on and added something to the IM, something really passive aggressive, along the lines of: not that you asked how I am or anything but I've had a really shit week, I can't sleep and I've lost 4 lbs because I've lost my appetite. have a good night. then I turned the compu off and left! All of that, the sleepless nights and no appetite, is true by the way, and it is all because I am fucking confused as shit about his actions/inactions, and disappointed that I have wasted so much time on an absolutely self-centered gemini prick.
I was gone for a couple of hours, but when I returned there was a response back on the compu, but it was cryptic. He wrote, among other things, "apparantly I am a real bastard now" which when I first read it I translated it as "geez I'm such an idiot that i didn't even ask about you." But after reading it again, and the line following it ("i'm not going to say more, hope we can TALK about it soon"), I am translating it a little differently, more like he is pissed that I was trying to lay a guilt trip on him. Which yeah Iwas. Asshole.
So, THAT is how it's going. It totally sucks. I am finally tonight, after a week of being in a really fucked up place, ok with the fact that I am going to be his stupid penpal. I have my appetite back finally but that is a bit of a pity because I just bought somereally hot pants at H&M and I'll probably not fit in them now that I can eat.
This is the most recent history of my long distance relationship:
I took that week after M left to try and think about things. It was really easy to do because he never once contacted me. In fact, since he has been back (3 weeks now) he has only contacted me 3 times. Can you already note I'm a bit peeved?
Back to M's departure. I decided to not contact him for a week and reflect. In that week I realized I really couldn't sort my own ideas out because I had no idea how he felt about me. I knew that if he said this could really be something, that I would give it a go. But he has never said anything other than "you're cute." What the fuck does that mean? Somehow the next time we talked I needed him to actually verbalize on a scale of "i like you - i care a lot for you - I love you" how he feels for me to really know how to proceed. Of course I am not stupid enough to demand and break it down like that.
Anyway, I had to "schedule" our next conversation, because he didn't seem to have any concept of time nor the need to contact me at all. That convo happened last Monday, almost a week after he got back.
Before I go on I want to tell you that I am a Cancer, and inherently with relationships that means I have a very hard shell around my heart, it is guarded with armor until a point at which I think it is ok to trust that a person can give me what I need and it is then a pleasure for me to give all I can to that person. Then I am 150% in. During the trip M pretty much broke down the wall, so I really just needed to hear that it was worth it to break it down. Even tho you may think it is "high maintenance," once I am "in" I need a lot of affirmation that I am giving so much of myself to the right person.
So, after a little catch up of the week after the trip, I did say that I didn't know how he felt about me. He said "I can't believe you don't know how I feel about you!" But he didn't actually then tell me, so I have, after 3 weeks come to my own conclusions, and if they are wrong, it's his fault for not clarifying.
But I digress. In that convo I told him that I felt a little neglected; that because he hadn't tried to contact me I felt like I wasn't important to him, he gave me a "pfh, oh come on." We talked and he said he was still thinking of moving to here (geez, can't tell me how he feels but he's moving here for me), and all the hang-ups he has to weigh, like leaving when he has good career ops, leaving in general, and what if he moves here and we break up, then what does he have? I told him he's putting the cart before the horse, because I need to feel like I am missed and important and I am not getting that, and these are things I will always need in a relationship, and if he doesn't want to, or isn't capable, of doing it now, then there will never be concern about moving here because we won't make it to that point. He said that I was fully capable of contacting him too, and I agreed, but I also informed him that when he contacts me on his own volition it makes my day and makes me feel amazing blah blah blah so please try...he said he understood and would try to contact me more but he didn't want it to feel like an obligation. I said I don't want it to feel like he's being forced either, and we both felt a little better.
I still didn't hear how he feels about me, but based on how he communicates I could safely say it was minimally "cares a lot." I was giving him a lot of the benefit of the doubt, convincing myself that his inability to communicate his feelings to me, along with the fact that he didn't communicate as often as I would like, were all cause of his being Foreign, and that maybe that's just not how it's done There, and maybe the previous women in his life have never asked it of him. But after that Big Talk, he disappeared again. I rationalized that with the whole "2 jobs, the wedding video and the website" i.e., his really busy factor, but it was getting harder and harder to rationalize. I was wondering if thinking he "cares a lot" was being a little aggressive on my part and that "he's just not into me" was more where we stood.
It was very difficult but I refused to contact him first. The stupid thing about him though, is that he leaves a very obvious trail of activity - so I can see when he is online and not contacting me, and I can when he is trolling his friends blogs and leaving comments and he's not bothering to contact me. So I was getting really pissed because what am I, an afterthought? And then I realized that I have broken down the walls for someone who I am pretty sure was not worth it, someone who I am not important to at all. Now, this is very hard for a cancer to accept, and it hurts like shit, and when we re-build the wall it is even stronger than the last time. But honestly, I refuse to be the last task on M's to-do list.
So basically, this past week has been really horrible for me. I feel very hurt, especially because he is sitting over there going on with his life completely clueless of how it is impacting me.
This takes me to today, the 3rd contact from him since he left. He IM'd me, and I felt sick to my stomach. I didn't accuse or ask any questions even though I was wondering how he thought not talking to me for a week was stepping up? Instead I let the IM flow naturally, seeing where he would take it. And he took it to M-land. Meaning, the 15 min IM session was all about him. Then I had to go and he had to eat, and I shut down the computer. But I was really fucking pissed - I felt like I was his goddamn penpal therapist. So I turned the compu back on and added something to the IM, something really passive aggressive, along the lines of: not that you asked how I am or anything but I've had a really shit week, I can't sleep and I've lost 4 lbs because I've lost my appetite. have a good night. then I turned the compu off and left! All of that, the sleepless nights and no appetite, is true by the way, and it is all because I am fucking confused as shit about his actions/inactions, and disappointed that I have wasted so much time on an absolutely self-centered gemini prick.
I was gone for a couple of hours, but when I returned there was a response back on the compu, but it was cryptic. He wrote, among other things, "apparantly I am a real bastard now" which when I first read it I translated it as "geez I'm such an idiot that i didn't even ask about you." But after reading it again, and the line following it ("i'm not going to say more, hope we can TALK about it soon"), I am translating it a little differently, more like he is pissed that I was trying to lay a guilt trip on him. Which yeah Iwas. Asshole.
So, THAT is how it's going. It totally sucks. I am finally tonight, after a week of being in a really fucked up place, ok with the fact that I am going to be his stupid penpal. I have my appetite back finally but that is a bit of a pity because I just bought somereally hot pants at H&M and I'll probably not fit in them now that I can eat.
1.21.2006
The Man is Troubling Me
It has been almost 3 weeks since my man visited me. Since then we have only spoken 2 times. If he were an American guy, I would follow the latest rule of thumb and chalk it up to "he's just not that into you." But he's a Euro-guy, and as much all men have some basic, shall we say.... traits, I don't know if he can necessarily be categorized into "not into you" based on the same forms or the frequency of communication. Now, he's got some claims (of course he misses me!) and he's got some things to blame (the time difference is getting in the way! [er, right, after a year and a half of long distance, all of the sudden the time difference is getting in the way?] I'm SO busy with work!), but I'm still very troubled by all of this. Actually, I was troubled. Last week. Then I explained to him for a half hour what I need from him for me to feel important in his life. I even gave him an out. Yet nothing changed. So now, I am WAY. PAST. TROUBLED. I'm over it.
1.06.2006
Back to a Pack
Fuck you. Making this decision has brought me back to smoking a pack a day. Nevermind the possibility that I have a $2.3 million dollar deal in the works, this decision is really fucking me up.
Game Over... I think
I guess you are good for me but you cannot complete the puzzle. It's like getting to level 8 when a game has 20 levels. I get somewhere, but I don't win. Game over. Fuck, that really sucks, because I like you. Now I just have to figure out how to tell you it's done. Is it ok for me to just say to you "game over?"
It's Dark in Here
It's dark in here. I've just spent 2 weeks with you, the first time since August. You live so far away, man, so so far. And guess what? Now that you're gone, I'm brooding on the negatives. I'm taking "some time off" from you, hoping I will notice the positves. But man, we are an old married couple, and it sucks!
Let me tell you my concerns:
1. Not enough affection, private or public. I need "Love Love Love", to quote the Beatles.
2. Who are your friends? Why are you telling me about people with cyber-lives, is that all you know? Don't you have friends from university, work, or when you were on the Dutch national rowing team???
3. OK I won't talk about real estate. If you promise not to talk about people you only know from the internet. Fuck you, too.
4. Our sex drives don't match. Don't you see I am wet for you all the time? Why are you rolling over and touching yourself? If you can only be with me sporadically throughout a year, why the fuck are you fondling yourself when I AM RIGHT HERE?
Aargh. For some reason, I am thinking this is not a match? Yes, I am definitely thinking this is not a match. And the funny thing is, the weather was horrible when you were here. And then you left and the sun came out. Now that I am trying to figure this shit out, all I can hear through my open window is fog horns: a ship has been attempting to enter the bay safely for over and hour, and the conversation between that ship and the lighthouse is far more intriguing than the ones we had when you were here. Shit, you know what? That really sucks.
Let me tell you my concerns:
1. Not enough affection, private or public. I need "Love Love Love", to quote the Beatles.
2. Who are your friends? Why are you telling me about people with cyber-lives, is that all you know? Don't you have friends from university, work, or when you were on the Dutch national rowing team???
3. OK I won't talk about real estate. If you promise not to talk about people you only know from the internet. Fuck you, too.
4. Our sex drives don't match. Don't you see I am wet for you all the time? Why are you rolling over and touching yourself? If you can only be with me sporadically throughout a year, why the fuck are you fondling yourself when I AM RIGHT HERE?
Aargh. For some reason, I am thinking this is not a match? Yes, I am definitely thinking this is not a match. And the funny thing is, the weather was horrible when you were here. And then you left and the sun came out. Now that I am trying to figure this shit out, all I can hear through my open window is fog horns: a ship has been attempting to enter the bay safely for over and hour, and the conversation between that ship and the lighthouse is far more intriguing than the ones we had when you were here. Shit, you know what? That really sucks.
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