just found out that a good portion of people have not received the invite to TLC. I just sent out a massive BCC list and I figured I’d send this out as well… š
Can you believe it’s been TEN YEARS since this all started? Well, technically 10 years but the TLC as we all know and love, it’s been eight long years. Many men, countries and cities. And pugs, can’t forget the pugs. And alcohol. Lot’o’alcohol.
If you don’t remember me, I run the online journal over at modgirl.net (nee simunye.org). It’s been awhile hasn’t it? It has. I can’t tell you how long as I’VE LOST ALL MY FREAKING EMAIL (more or less) and I’m remiss to say it’s been ages. You guys started out with me when I was a spunky 24 year old and now I’m a misanthropic 34 year old. Wiser and definitely have more tattoos. And shorter hair. And I still hate the world, to some degree or another, but hey, that’s the way the cookie crumbles.
If you haven’t been keeping up with me (and I know some of you have, it is almost eery how many email address I recognize putting together this BCC list), in short, this is what is going on: I’m back living in GR, finished college in ’05 and started graduate school that summer. I’ll be receiving my M.A. in the spring of ’08 ($deity willing), single, still have the damn pugs and I sling books for a living while I attend school. I travel a lot, bitch about moronic people a lot, plan world domination and the whole nine yards.
And how are you? Seriously, tell me. š
So, what has happened is this: Moe, the guy that ran modgirl.net, emailed all of his cliental that they were going to be charging for services for a very reasonable price. However, I currently have other hosting with Dreamhost, so Moe and I hashed it out and decided that I’d just move modgirl.net over to Dreamhost and viola, no problems. Well, there was, you see. Little did I know that in the long days since I worked at UUNet, that DNS propagation, which used to take days, is now done in 3-4 hours. So I didn’t have time to email the list, etc, about the move. The only bright thing I did was save the list to a txt file for future use.
I’m now doing TLC via dreamhost, and I imported the list and sent out an invite. A number of people signed up, but, I found out that also a lot of people didn’t get the invite. Hence the BCC.
So, in short, if you wish to resubscribe, email me and I’ll resend the invite. If you don’t, no worries, just ignore this email. Make sure to add tlc@modgirl.net to your whitelist/addressbook so it doesn’t get tagged by your client/server as spam/junk. You can reach me at this address (academichussy@gmail.com) anytime.
I love you all. Thanks for being with me.
x0x0x
Lisa
PS: If you’re into LJ, i’m located at http://academichussy.livejournal.com , but, I’m planning on coming back to TLC with a vengeance. I swear.
Author: pookiebear
sassy skirt seeks alliterative ally
Last year, feeling rather despondent about the men I kept meeting, I put up a personals ad. Before doing so, I polled my friends to see what they had to say about me. The following is my favorite response thus far:
“GR woman (No! I’m still a girl, dammit!) who enjoys reading, the arts, travel and the occasional megadose of caffeine seeks a guy with similar interests. I have a fully functional brain, a tall and sexy body and a biting sense of humor; if anything of that intimidates you, sorry, please move along. I am *not* a project, trophy or challenge and I don’t need to be saved; if you can’t take me as I am, please read the end of the last sentence.”
Since 99% of the responses were from moronic twits, I pulled down the ad and went back to the old fashioned method. But since Iām always interested in meeting new people, I decided to put the ad back up. Lucky you.
“So, who am I? In a non-metaphysical sense, Iām a tall (5ā11-6ā1; depending on time of day and whoās measuring me) bodacious brunette in graduate school. During the day Iām a book pimp, while studying for my masters at night. In my previous life, I was a network engineer for a global corporation (if the phrase ānine billion dollar accounting fraudā means anything to you, you know who I used to work for). I embrace both the arts and technology, and feel just as comfortable discoursing on dead white male authors as I do about bleeding edge technology.
If anything, Iām a dichotomy. Youāve been warned.
Iām a music and movie buff as well as a pop culture queen. Musically, I dig everything from Miles Davis to Madchester to Bossa Nova. Right now Iām in love with Elbow and The Doves. In movies, my taste runs to independents, foreign flicks, and blockbusters. Though lately Iāve been obsessed with zombie movies. Netflix is my hero. Iām also a gaming nut and own four gaming consoles. Tivo has become my replacement boyfriend and my āchildrenā consist of three pugs named after The Addamsā Family.
Iām well traveled, having lived in San Francisco, DC, and Toronto as well as Michigan. Iāve been to Spain, France, Germany, England and Scotland. I have a plethora of piercings (no, you cannot ask where they are located) and twelve tattoos.
I read voraciously and dig just about anything. Unfortunately, my training as an English Lit major has caused me to be a snob about books, thus if you think The Da Vinci Code (or books in a similar vein) is āgreatā literature, please move along. Big points if you dig Terry Pratchett.
Socially, I hit local pubs and shows with friends, read, catch up on Tivo, playing with my dogs, and writing. I plan road trips in my head, make mix cds for various moods and come up with a 1000 and one ideas that never get seen. I love ethnic food and am game to try just about anything once. I once fell asleep at the opera (I was tired! Thatās my excuse and Iām sticking to it!), but I do like going to the theater, museums and the like. I also like just staying at home playing video games and watching movies. Iāve been known to watch entire seasons of shows in one sitting as well as What I like to do tends to depend on the mood I am in, which tends to shift. A lot.
Iām big on talking, especially debating where I tend to play the devilās advocate. Iām highly sarcastic and my humour tends to run to the dry variety. If you canāt keep up with me intellectually, then move along please. Iām pretty opinionated and have no problem telling you what is on my mind. I shoot from the hip and usually say the first thing that come out of my mouth, which tends to get me in trouble. Very well-read, though common sense tends to take a backseat sometimes. I can be quite intellectual on some things and a complete ditz on others.
Any other questions?”
but i digress
It is Friday night and I’ve made a very singleton type dinner of pasta with parmesan cheese sprinkled on top, spray butter spritzed on to adhere the cheese to the pasta. Multi-grain pasta, no less, to further infuse the idea that I’m trying to get Ƭhealthy.Ć® I have a mere few hours between the time I got home from work and until I have to get to bed in order to wake up at 5am to head back to work. I had already walked the dogs, changed into my jammies, swept the living and dining room wood floors, prepped coffee for the morning and paid a few bills. While trying to decide if I was going to read a bit or watch a DVD before hitting the hay, I realised this was my life: and unless something changed, and soon, this is how it was going to be the incessant pattern, day in and day out, with nothing to look forward to and nothing to commend myself on having done, because, I always planned on conquering the world tomorrow and my past was filled with nothing but those empty tomorrows where I just existed and did not really live.
And I felt that sense of panic, that I would end up dead and alone, eaten by ThePugKids, all three of them fighting to eat my hands and feet. I can almost see them burping with a self-satisfied look on their faces. If pugs could smirk, mine surely would in utter defiance of not being spoilt rotten.
But I digress.
Some time ago, a month maybe?, I got this brilliant idea of starting yet another website (yet another vain attempt on my part on commitment and as always, flaking out), which is what you’re looking at now. I had lofty ambitions (doesn’t one always have lofty ambitions when they start projects?), where I would write everyday and it would be about ANYTHING I damned near felt like writing, no matter how trite, absurd, vapid or incessantly boring. I started creating tag after tag because I have IDEAS! PLANS! GOALS! It would be culture of Lisa, and I could finally start getting down what the fuck I wanted out of life without just thinking about it, daydreaming while I shelve books day in and day out, and then wonder how my temporary job has landed me an anniversary date.
Tonight it just clicked, hard for me, as I sat there straining the pasta before spritzing the I Cant Believe it’s Not ButterĀ spray: I’m 34 years old, it’s a Friday night and I just feel like I’m totally left out of the world around me. I seriously am beginning to feel that I have nothing in common with most of my friends anymore and I spend my free time escaping via books, music, and television. And this isĀ not where I want to be. That was the driving force, still is, of purchasing this domain and getting started on where I’m going and how I’m going to get there. Because I’ve got plans, goddamnit, and some how or another, I’m not going to remain another retail monkey working for people who are seriously dumber than a box of rocks (and I put myself in this position, exactly, why?).
Working in a bookstore wouldn’t be SO bad, because where else can you fondle for books for a living, tell people your unadulterated opinion for free and get paid? But the pay is killing me (and today’s check, sans a day when I called in sick last week due to pink eye) just infuriates me. I have a fucking college degree and I’m barely scratching poverty level wages!
Okay, look, I’m going to stop myself right there before I become way too disjointed about this initial entry. Here is the website, here are some of the goals I plan on working on and this here website is where I’m going to catalogue every stinking inch of the way, $deity help me:
- Take the GRE and get into a big girl grad school (I’m currently taking graduate classes via Central Mich)
- Quit smoking (already started, tracker can be found here).
- Lose weight
- Join a gym and actually go! (Already joined and wentĀ once. Yay me.)
- Write a book or twelve
- Actually learn how to casually date and not refer to men as being moronic half-wits who have more baggage as UPS, FedEx and DHS combined.
- Get into freelance writing as a job.
- Find another job!
- Put together the “100 things to do in 1000 Days,” encompassing weight loss, travel, quitting smoking, learning new hobbies, etc.
I’m sure there is more, there is always more. But now is my time, while I’m still young, have all my teeth and the energy to do it. Nothing is stopping me other than me, and if takes warm fuzzy bullshit to get self-motivated to do what I need to do and get it done, than so be it.
About: Lisa
Hello, my name is Lisa.
I’ve been keeping an online journal since 1996.1 You may know me from simunye.org, modgirl.net, or from my LiveJournal.
If you are interested in my lifestream, you can find that at [digital biblyotheke].
The original concept for shesgotplans.net was to discuss, in-depth, my sojourn into library and archival school, which I started in fall of 2008. The premise intent that it would contain entries on the nuts and bolts of school while addressing concerns as someone new to the profession. But Twitter changed all of that — my pithy commentary was released instantly to the masses! Thus, the journal languished because writing 140 characters is a lot faster and easier than writing a nicely constructed and in-depth essay.2
Now that graduation is now looming, all the personal projects that I swore I would have time for during breaks is now finally available. This is the first time in in nearly a decade, I currently3 have no plans on being in classes this next school year, it’s time to get back in the writing mode and less on the “OH HOLY FUCK! I HAVE A HUGE PROJECT DUE IN TWO DAYS!” I so won’t miss those days.
Other places where I’m also writing at:
- Tech-Ink: A librarian’s collection: Tech-Ink is a collective of tech savvy librarians from around the world. I write from the student / new librarian/archivist perspective.
- The Brit & The Yank: A music blog with a twist, co-written with my friend Chris.
- AMPed: Staff writer for Archival Media Preservation, a professional blog sponsored by Archive Media Partners that discusses the ins and outs of digital obsolescence, digital media and social networking in the archival world.
Below is the “To Do” list for shesgotplans.net as of 1/31/2010
- Update more frequently (2-3x a week).
- Change blog name (not domain) before graduation.
- Import journal entries from prior incarnations into database.
- Create categories and folksonomies for those entries.
1. My first journals were on Geocities (now defunct) and I transferred everything over to simunye.org in 1998, which is why the InternetArchive only has my listing from 1998, not 1996, and forward.
2. Interestingly enough, So, you want to be a librarian? Part I is the most requested page on this site. Clearly, I was on to something.
3. I have been made to promise to the family that there will be no more schooling for me! Three degrees in seven years is enough, right?
culture shock
Chris and I had a conversation the other day on our own perspective of what the Midwest meant to us. Chris grew up in tiny hamlets (population of several thousand), while I criss-crossed from Port Huron to Toronto. It was with that conversation that I realised that my own perception of the Midwest, and the world in general, was not what I thought it should or could be. Because I had lived and visited extensively to several metro areas while still a child, I understood a better sense of my gypsy-like lifestyle more so than I did ever before. That alone was perhaps one of the greatest realisations of myself that I have had in current history.
I’ve always talked about the fact that there are two Lisas — one that harbors the home and hearth fantasy while the other sees herself as jet setting across the globe. It’s difficult to reconcile the two, finding a place where I fit in without feeling claustrophobic. Someone once said that my own pre-determined destinies would only come true if I let them — as I had often remarked that I was going to end up being the old hag at the end of a bar, wearing my faux fur and jewels while slugging back vodkas and chain smoking, while regaling of all my love affairs with men that got progressively younger. On the other hand, there is the aging Lisa bouncing my grandchildren on my knee while regaling of all my adventures around the world.
At the Caffe Accademica, near the Piazza di Spagna, inside the putrid smelling bathrooms, graffiti was written by women from all over the world. I had wished I had a pen with me, to leave my mark on that bathroom wall, to note that “Lisa was here.” Who we are but memories that we create with others and memories that we create within ourselves.
Life is about ambience and adventure. Even when we got detoured from the metro the other day, our walk to Termini through Chinatown was an adventure. Our getting lost was an adventure. Life is nothing more than a series of getting lost from location to location and hoping to hell you can find your way back. It’s not just about the tourist sites and the souvenirs collected on your travels, but the impressions that you impart and take with you as you go. I wish that I had the photography training to capture the images of the people as we walked, because I wanted to remember the look of the lovers who were snogging besides us the restaurant or the old couple who walked happily down Via ottavio towards the Vatican, hand in hand.
When I had move to the Bay Area in 1997, one of my friends there notated as we walked down Telegraph Rd. in Berkeley — that I seemed to fit in. This chameleon like trait has been a curse, I thought, since high school when I meshed from social group to social group. And I think that is why I don’t feel so intimidated being in a different country. Sure, the culture is different and the people are different but in the end, we really are all just the same. I could see myself living here, just as I could see myself living in Barcelona or in the South of France (I’m not terribly crazy about Paris but perhaps if I had spent more time in the city, that too would have changed). I feel confident that I could go anywhere in the world and blend in, without having too much of a terrible difficulty getting around. Perhaps I should just accept my fate that I am a world citizen, not a citizen of a particular country or city.
hot date
Smashing good day everyone. š BBQ was fun at C+S’s, though we were still perplexed how majority of the people in the group (‘cept for the baby of the group, sara) are in their late 20s/early 30s and we STILL separated into boy/girl groups. How the hell does that work?
HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOO. There was some group herpes action going around too.
So, I’ll talk about the date last night and since it includes some of my feelings, which are pretty consistent with BPD, I’m sticking it under a LJ-CUT
So IG#4 (his name is Sam) and I had been talking about meeting for a bit and finally agreed yesterday was the big date. We were going to meet at the GR Public Museum at 2pm, walk around and hit the planet-airum, do dinner, and then whatever. But plans kept changing because of the weather. So, I caught him online late yesterday morning and asked if he could bring the Whit Stillman movies with him that I didn’t own so that we could (if things went well), watch them later in the evening. Little did I know finding the movies would take several hours and by the time he hit grand rapids, it was already nearing 4:30pm.
We decided to meet at Barnes and Noble, to be “pretentious elitist asshats” (my words) on books. He had told me what he was wearing, and I had seen him walking down the middle of the parking lot as I was turning in. Since I had told him I was somewhat of a crazy driver, I gunned my engine and went tearing down the parking lot with the intent of stopping a few feet from him. He had gotten to the front of the store before I got close to him, but I did end up getting an awesome parking spot. I walked up, we shook hands, and entered the store.
For dress up, I opted to go super casual. I knew if I got “ho-banged up” (sara’s words), “hooched up” (jen”s words) or “tarted up” (my words), I’d be uncomfortable. I opted for my “Reading is Sexy tshirt,” with a pink camisole peeking underneath with my favorite jeans and these adorable cork wedge sandals I just bought that matched the shirt. My hair I left down (because I’m constantly being told people like it down better than up) and makeup was fairly minimal. I carried my clutch bag, which doubles as my bar purse, since I didn’t want to carry my normal everyday bag.
Things went off to a good start, lots of eye contact, body language was pretty groovy, and he got fairly smartassed which caused him to get smacked by my clutch bag at least once and a jokey argument almost lead to a banging of each other with coffee table books.
We were both getting pretty hungry, but he reallllllllllllly wanted to go to Vertigo (the local indie record store), which I resisted since going to Vertigo usually means I drop several hundreds of dollars and I can’t afford that. He promised to make it a quick trip, which I started twitching as I had already picked out a CD from the used bin that I wanted. I put the CD back and he paid for his purchases. We stopped at the video store next door to Vertigo and perused the foreign flicks since we are both fans and then headed off to Mikado for Sushi.
Mikado’s was closed, so I dropped him off at his car, lead him to my house to park his car and we then drove to Bombay for Indian (cos I’m lazy like that). Food was good, conversation was excellent. We split two dinners, lots of naan and samosas. We headed back to my place, I had him meet part of the posse (Jen, Mindy, and Kate). We walked the pugs, got settled in for movies.
We watched Metropolitan and Heathers, and literally spent the majority of the time separated by three pugs who decided to make it their business to lay all over Sam. No major flirting going on, really, our body language was pretty open but no one initiated anything. I was not about to (trying new theory of being less aggressive upon the first approach). But still, I wasn’t sure. During our last two weeks of conversation, I wasn’t sure if he was interested in me in a friend sort of way or in a romantic sort of way, so I asked him outright and he said romantic. But, he didn’t really flirt with me and I was getting highly self-conscious about it.
When the movies ended, we spent another couple of hours talking. We had been talking all night, even through the movies, and it was highly entertaining. He even commented it was a shame that we watched the second movie because he enjoyed talking to me so much and that he lusts after women he can hold conversations with. My library and musical tastes also rated big points with him as I apparently got cooler by the minute.
I wasn’t nervous. Which was weird, it just seemed we clicked on so many levels before with talking being with him just seemed natural.
So about 2:30a or so, it was getting late and we decided to call it a night. He wasn’t sure about seeing me again today (Monday) as he had to be at his parents later in the afternoon and he made plans for earlier in the day. He did say he wanted to spend next weekend with me as he’ll be in Grand Rapids helping a friend move and we are pseudo going to the Festival together. Apparently.
We walked ThePugKids for their nightly constitutional and brought them back in. We tap danced in my dining room for a bit and I could feel the tension getting tighter, the sexual tension. I wasn’t sure if I should just go lay one on him or what, when he did this swoop thing towards me that looked like he was going to kiss me but didn’t. I walked him down the stairs, as I had to lock up the front door, when he leans in like he’s going to kiss me. I step back and look at him, “Are you going to kiss me this time or are you going to do that swoop thing like you did before?” I eyed him suspiciously. He laughed and said no, he was really going to kiss me this time and we conked our heads as we went the same way. Giggled and went in for the kill.
Before I know it, I’m pinned up against the wall, hands above my head with his leg driven up to my crotch. It went from all friendly polite gentlemanly behaviour to BOOM. You could cut the sexual tension with a Ginsu and it would become dull. We’re throwing each other around my foyer like rag dolls and I’m surprised (literally) and didn’t come and see if I was okay we were THAT loud.
Hand, lips, bites, scratches. It was war and we both wanted to win and lose. I snaked my hand up underneath his tshirt and raked my nails down his back. He arched, moaned and said “I didn’t know I’d like that.” At one point, he was trembling, and I kept remembering saying to him was “Sam, sam, it’s okay, it’s okay.” For awhile we stood wrapped in each others arms in the foyer. I had ripped off his button down (good thing it was snap buttons) and his jacket and backpack were scattered on the floor. We were wrapped in each others arms with my head buried on his chest. He mumbled in my ear, “It feels to good to have you in my arms.” I smiled to myself and told him the only thing I wanted was to lay next to him, cuddled, in bed. No sex. He agreed he wanted that too. We tear back up the stairs and once we hit my dining room, bam, I was thrown up against the wall and we were all over each other again.
I stopped at some point and said, I can’t do this. He kept promising to be a gentlemen and I kept telling him, It’s not you, it’s ME! I can’t have a guy in my bed, whom I like and find myself sexually attracted to and NOT WANT TO RIP HIS CLOTHES OFF AND BAT HIM AROUND MY BEDROOM LIKE A RAGDOLL. Ahem. So there was that. He told me he wanted to see me again, and soon as possible.
Then I made the typical fatal mistake:
“Sam, what’s next.”
He kept going over and over about how much he liked me, and he thought i was incredibly groovy and how much he wanted to see me again. Because he works second shift, weekends were the only option. And he promised he’d see me next weekend for Festival.
But he got the deer caught in the headlights look. Things were getting really intense between us really quickly. Not just sexually (who knew?) but intellectually and mentally as well. While I was “into the moment” when we were all over each other, I kept conscious of how far I was “willing” to go. Like some level of me wanted nothing more then to unzip his pants, with the outside door wide open, and blow him until the sun came up. I wanted to just shed skin and crawl inside him. But we remained clothed.
Yet another comes over to the darkside
Spent most of the day talking to Derrick and finally convinced him to get a lj – grimmweak. I already tipped him off to most of the UU people, spread the word.
He also reminded me about:
LGJ and LGL — points to UU folk who can get this.
We have a hot date this weekend. Yay! I’m heading to Detroit this weekend and seeing him and darkdepths, and hopefully hitting City Club Saturday night. Patrick also bounced there, either before or after monkey_daddy and grimmweak did. Don’t know how this always works out, how I manage to date people who someone knew other people I either worked with, knew or dated before.
We spent a good portion of the night talking, okay about 12 hours give or take, not including a phone call earlier today.
I’m glad I drove down to K-Zoo to see both Lenny and Derrick š
He said the first thing he wants to do when I get there is hold hands.
Which I thought was terribly sweet. š
I’m knackered.
Why are men so impossible?
WHY?
To the right
I’m currently hanging out in Patrick’s home office while he snores in the bedroom. My flight for GR doesn’t leave for another four hours, coinciding my arrival when my brother gets out of work tonight. I still need to throw my things into my duffle bag, get dressed at some point.
The weekend went well. Not “We are back to being boyfriend/girlfriend” well and not “Ohmygod I’m having a horrible time” either. Somewhere in between. Friday was interesting, a bit strained. He showed up at the airport nearly an hour after my flight arrived, as I sat in passenger pickup playing my GBA. I called kethryvis in a panic because he wasn’t where he was supposed to be. His excuse? Traffic. Which is all fine and dandy, but knowing Patrick, his tardiness was his way of saying, “You’re not that important to me bitch.” He has this TERRIBLE tendency to dismiss being ontime for things, like picking people up at the airport, if he feels it’s not worthwhile. He does it to his boss all the time. When he arrived, I handed him the bag of chocolate chip cookies I had made and hugged him tight. After a few foo-foo drinks during dinner, tensions disolved and things got a lot better.
I approached him about paying for my half of everything this trip out. He and I had gotten into disagreements about this in the past, and his argument of why he should pay centered on that I was a college student, poor and couldn’t afford to pay for my half. Which is true, but since we are no longer a couple, it seemed ridiculous to expect him to pay for things. But he wouldn’t hear of it and kept telling me to put my wallet away when it came time to pay. We went to Ruth’s Chris last night for dinner and I broached the topic of paying for half again, which he agreed. Then he proceeded to order a $350 bottle of Cristal. I laughed and said I as not forking over $175 bucks for champagne. He said it was to honor all the hard work I was doing for school and didn’t expect me to pay for it.
So I killed more than half the bottle.
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!