In which Lisa waffles and talks a lot of smack

I’ve had enough caffeine today to power three power plants with all the energy I’ve been exhibiting. Even my hair is nutso but that has more to do with me doing the “Oh shit, I finished my paper at 5:15, I have class at 6:30, it’s a half hour drive and I still need to shower!” look. One thing I can say about having longish hair is the lack of need to wash it everyday. It in fact looks better after not being washed for a day or three. But I’m sure you’re not reading this to hear about my personal hygiene.

My relationship with Patrick since Sunday has been interesting. We are caught in that limbo world where anything is game and anything can happen. I called him, hyped from finishing my final Shakespeare class and teasing my professor about the prof needing hip boots to read my drek of a paper. I was also bouncing off the walls from all the caffeine I had imbibed today.

The banter between Patrick and I was light and fluffy. I had quipped my often said quote that I would never date a woman because they were far too high maintainance and then added that I may need to retract that statement because it seemed that I kept finding men who needed just as high of maintainance as the women. Har. har. har. I was laughing as I said this and he noted that HE was not included in that statement because he was such a low maintainance kind of guy.

I was giggling madly to the point where he kept saying “What? What?”

Then the mood flipped 180 and we were like US and Russia during the cold war, everything became Machivellian and subtexts were running rampart. All the words kept pouring out of my mouth and it was those moments where everything is so coherent and sounds so RATIONAL but you have zero idea where they are coming from. I love moments like that because I know I’m on a roll and I sound so smart. Hah!

This came when the following question that left my lips, “Hey I need to ask you a question and I want you to answer me as honestly as possible.” “What?” “Do you want me to come next week?”

45 minutes later we were no longer any closer to an actual answer to that question and he kept throwing it back in my direction, “It’s up to you honey.” “But I don’t want to come if it will make you uncomfortable.” “Well I have no idea how I will feel when you get here.” Silence from me. “Okay, I will be uncomfortable.” “Then I won’t come.” “But I want to see you.”

Back and forth we went until he said he had to go because he had promised some friends to meet them online for a gaming session and I told him while I admired his um, commitment to his friends, he had a habit of cutting out an important conversation, to eventually be picked up later and it never is. You know, like our relationship.

Ding ding ding.

He said that what he was afraid of being caught in this limbo land where everything between us when we are physically together is GREAT and goes to hell in a hand basket when we are apart. I agreed to that sentiment. I’m waffling, cos on one hand I do love the asshole on the other, I keep talking about all this smack to him about my wants and needs only to have them turn on a dime two minutes later.

You know, sometimes I wish I were a dog. A dogs love life is so much easier than we humans and our upper levels of thinking. You just sniff some ass and *unf unf unf* it’s done. None of this rationalization and over-analyzation bullshit.

In my next life, I want to be a dog. YOU HEAR ME!

Two week proprietary rights

The final paper due for tomorrow? At 9:30 am? I’m starting right now. It’s Midnight and 23 minutes and the paper is due in about nine hours. Reasons for delaying the start? I took today off to chill, clean up my much messy desk and get shit together. Tuesday and Wednesday and Thrusday will be hell. Friday night I plan on drinking somewhere until I’m comatose. Get up early Saturday morning and head to the eye doctors, pick my brother up and then head to Moms for the weekend. Come back Sunday, study for finals that will take place all next week, and leave Friday May 7 for Denver.

Yah, I’m going to Denver.
Thought I’d get that bit out of the way, you see. I’ve already told a few of my dearest and closest friends and I’ve already been warned about being beaten to death by flipflops and what not. YES I KNOW. Don’t need to psychoanalyze me. I realise etc ad nasuam.

I called NWA today to cancel my flight and found out the ticket is non-transferable and non-refundable. If I cancel, I lose out on half the ticket cost due to cancellation fees and change of ticket costs for another flight to another destination. My original plan was to transfer the credit to kethryvis for when she comes in August but that wasn’t possible. I called Patrick up to see what he wanted to do and I broached the idea of me still flying out there. He told me it was up to me and I could choose on what I wanted to do. I opted to go.

I had told kethryvis the idea of flying to Denver made my skin crawl a few days ago and now I’m looking at it like a vacation. Suddenly all this tension I felt about my relationship with Patrick is gone since I broke it off and perhaps it would be different because there are no expectations.

I spoke to Patrick today later on in the evening on his way to a strip club. Turns out one of his friends called him in need to come buy drinks as she is just beginning to bartend and he is going with a group of others. He told me that he went and got metrosexualized today and the hairdresser who works on him was complaining about me. Apparently she thought I was a bitch and etc ad nasuam because all I did was sit in the chair and giggle at him with bleach in his hair sitting under a mister hat. ???? Because, apparently, I wasn’t little miss chatty to HER. Er, love the logic there. He told her we were no longer together and she started hitting on him, hell she was hitting on him when I was right there. I don’t get women. Never have, never will.

Because I am flighty flighty Lisa and if you haven’t figured this out yet, then you are obviously not paying attention.

Agreed? Agreed.

And of course, the story.

I hadn’t spoken to Patrick in about three days.
During that time, kethryvis had been prodding me to stop being a pussy and just break up with him. I told her on Friday I woke up with the intention of calling him to break it off and never actually got around to doing it. She and I talked backwards and forwards about the whole thing and I just couldn’t bring myself to pick up the phone.

Tonight he calls and he says he’s been trying to get in touch with me for the last few days. I did receive an IM earlier this morning but there has been no phone calls to either the landline or the cell. Save for this afternoon when I went out with my brother for his birthday dinner, my cell has been with me all weekend. Save for seeing Rent on Saturday, I’ve been home. There has been no phone calls. He has told me before he’s called me and there hasn’t been any messages, but regardless, I dumped him over the phone.

How do you approach something like that? I had no idea but my liquid courage was Crystal Light and I finally asked him, “Are you happy?” He answered, “Of course not, you’re not here.” But that wasn’t the answer I was hoping for and then he asked me if I was happy and I, of course, replied no. So eventually, I told him it was best we do not see each other anymore.
He was on his way to rent movies and was at the checkout counter at Blockbuster when I told him. His initial reaction was a very pissed off, “WHAT DID YOU SAY?” when I told him I thought it was best we end it. So I repeated it.

The conversation was amazingly civil. There was no name calling or verbal abuse. Voices did not raise. My main reason, and one that I will stick by, is that I don’t feel emotionally fulfilled in the relationship. Despite the arrogance (which I could live with) and the problems with sex (which could be fixed), that was the bottom line. I do not feel emotionally fulfilled. At the root of it all, I could not foresee myself flying in and out of Denver every month or so simply to be with someone when for the other 29 odd days, I was mostly alone and lonely. Being alone I can handle with great ease. Lonely when you with someone, I cannot.

I could handle flying in and out of Denver if I knew the relationship could go somewhere, but he’s happy the way things are. Part of my impulsiveness, part of my charm, whatever it is, I had to feel or feel secure enough to know that someday *this* was going somewhere and by his account, it was not. He was happy with the way things were going and happy with the future being uncertain. I have to have some sort of plan. I need to know, even if it’s just hazy, how to plan for things. My life is in turmoil right now as I look towards ending college and wondering what the fuck I’m going to do with my life. If I do make it to graduate school, I’ll be living somewhere and the work load anticipated will be five times worse than what I’m experiencing now.

I explained to him, that if I was working and not in school, this would be so much more easier. If things had progressed to seriousness, utter seriousness, transferring to Denver would be cake. But I can’t do that with school. I have to stay at AQ. I’ve worked too hard and too long to transplant myself somewhere else.

The tickets for my next trip to Denver in May were purchased last week. I’m not going, obviously, because I could not handle being there and probably having sex with him and knowing while it meant lots of things, it was all the wrong meaning. It would be false. I would feel like I was leading him on, my being there and he was concerned for my emotional stability.

I told him that save for Paul, almost all of my serious relationships ended up with my exes marrying someone else within 6 months of breaking up with me. He didn’t find that funny.

He’s flying to MI in June, a few days before my birthday, for a family gathering in Detroit. Since I have no plans for my birthday as of yet, I told him we could meet up, if he liked. He said he would love it.

Like all good females, I instantly regretted breaking up with him. “BUT I LOVE HIM!” I reasoned to kethryvis who immediately told me what I was doing was the right thing, and she’s right. I just can’t shake this feeling of despair. Or of regret.

I’ve already induced enough chocolate to kill a horse.
I’m never EVER dating again.