Another one for the the “WTF?” file

katishna had said to me recently that it’s clear that I do not go and seek drama, it comes to me. Which, is true. Not only did Miguel call today (I dumped his VM after hearing him going “hello? hello?” and the part about me needing to “grow up.” He left one other message after that one, which got dumped immediately). But I come home, stuffed from movie popcorn to receive an email from HGFH (houseguestfromhell), to inform me that her dad is dead. Now, we have not spoken since October and I recently found out she’s keeping tabs on me via my brother (whom she also sent a $50 dollar gift cert from Amazon for Xmas) and she’s asking about me.
She wrote to inform me that her dad is dead, but here is the parts I like best:
“I’m not sure what I am expecting to happen from this email, but again, I did feel the urge to tell you of this event in my life.”
“As you know, my relationship with my dad was far more distant and strained than yours with your dad… so this news for me is actually good.”
I wrote about this back when it happened. LIke with Miguel, I bear her no ill will and I certainly don’t hate her. She’s just not a positive influence in my life and to be honest, I don’t miss her. I wish her well, but, apparently she doesn’t get “it” either.
I must be missing something. I mean, I really must.

Gone Like the Wind

Alright, my dogs are dropped over at my brother’s house. I’m all packed and ready to rumble. The drive to katishna’s house is something like 5 hours +/-. Since I will be INCREDIBLY bored (even with XM), feel free to call me :
616.633.3811
And don’t do that whole guessing game of “guess who this is!” on the phone because I WILL hang up on you 😉 And I hate that.

love, actually

I’ve been living alone for exactly one year and one day. How nuts is that?
Go lisa, get your groove on! It’s your birthday!
I want to fall in love.
I’m ready to fall in love.
I couldn’t think of a good segue into this, but it’s true. I spent a lot of time with my maiden aunts recently, and I really don’t want to end up like them: bitter, desperate, clinging to the past. I want to love and be loved. I want to feel close with someone and feel their closeness. I want to rip apart the facades we put up as we approach people and feel their need for me as such as I need them.
It’s a very scary thought, thinking about allowing myself to be vulnerable — to willingly strip away all the barriers and just let it go. On the same hand, it’s also powerful feeling.
Makes me feel invincible.
I just want to be seriously and insanely in love. I learned a lot of lessons this year living alone. I learned I could do it by myself and I learned I could handle living alone without getting lonely. I learned I could love my friends and keep them close to me and I had great tolerance for my family. I learned how to let go of people who were not good for me.
I also learned that I like to take care of people. This was not something to be ashamed of, as I once thought it to be, but it’s actually a strength. The tricky part is when to know the difference between taking care of someone and mothering them to death: a problem I had with Paul. I think that because Paul was not responsive to return this in kind, I started to regret doing it. That regret became resentment. But when I’m with my mom and I help her, and I worry about her, I realise that I genuinely like doing this for her. She appreciates me, she’s proud of me, and she loves me. This is a step with my mother I never in a million years I thought I would see, but it happened. It did. I’m glad that our relationship is taking such leaps and bounds and that I no longer feel the resentment i used to feel towards her. There is always some strain, but it’s over ridiculously minute shit that it’s not even worth the bother anymore.
The year was spent in a lot of retrospection, a lot of people watching and a lot of getting to know who and what I am. It’s very tough to learn who
and what you are, but one of the biggest lessons I learned this year:
Don’t let the career goals overtake personal goals.
Very important is this one. Ironically (or shamefully enough), I was watching Charmed and one of the minor characters said to Phoebe something about how her generation of women were so focused on being independent and career orientated that they forgot about their personal relationships. Here were all these women in their 40s/50s who had no one to celebrate lifes things with them. I got choked up about that one. Really. No lie. I really don’t want to be like my aunts. Ages 60, 59 and 46. All bitter and desperate. Every single one of them. Two of them had the gall to tell me that I was too old to have babies at the age of 31. Can you believe this shit? Too damn old to have babies. I do want kids, someday. Just not right this second.
Love.
It’s a powerful word. Is there anyone in mind I’m thinking of as I write this? If I say yes, then someone will think I’m going too far, pushing boundaries we never really explored before. If I say no, then I could be lying. So I’ll say maybe. I’m not saying I’m in love with someone NOW, I am saying that if it happens, I won’t push it away, like I have so many times before.
Patrick and I were talking about sex the other night and he asked me, “When was the last time you had great sex?” I replied, “If I was being a bitch, 1992 or 1993.” “Damn,” he said, “That’s cold.” Even though we were on the phone, I nodded almost violently. One part of me felt like it was the truth, the other part of me felt like it was a lie. I HAVE had good sex since then, but, there was something always missing.
Things I didn’t think about then, that I realise now. Parts of me that wish that I could turn back the clock to repair those moments, be more attentive to my ex-lovers, instead of being hateful or mean as I was wont to do. Communicate more to them my own needs instead of expecting them to take charge and know what I want. Many mistakes were made on both sides. I do not put the blame solely on them, however, they do have their faults.
So then this leads me to thinking about sex, and what my sexual needs are. I think a lot of it has to do that I often find myself at odds with how I want to feel as compared to as how I really feel. I don’t have a problem being assertive towards someone, I have a problem when the person EXPECTS it always to be me to lead the way. I don’t have a problem being kinky, I do have a problem when it’s always that way. I don’t have a problem with lack foreplay, but I do have a problem if that is all I want and the person isn’t willing to do even that. I do believe in the tit-for-tat love life: If I go down on you, you return the favour. I just don’t get why so many guys are hung up on simply not returning the favour.
Sensuality, that’s a big. A huge one. In my early twenties, I thought it was all about hard, head banging against the wall kind of sex. Instant gratification now. Damned their needs, mine had to be taken care of first. But then I was so about control during the sexual relationship, my needs never really got met. Orgasms? Hrm. Good question. One person has been able to give me clitoral orgasms other than myself, one other gave me vaginal orgasms. A minute percentage of my lovers, isn’t that sickening? The irony about the one person who gave me vaginal orgasms, is that I didn’t really particularly care for him. We were dating, we were even living together, but it was a bad relationship and bad times. He also had a fetish for getting fucked up the ass with a dildo, so much so, he preferred that to actually having intercourse with me.
But I digress.
I realised I’m not a casual sex kind of person. If I’m going to sleep with you, it has to mean something. It has to denote something. A beginning of something, hopefully not an end. I can’t just sleep with random men to fulfil my needs because part of my needs is that I have to be attracted both physically AND mentally. I’ve said this nine hundred times before: you want to get into my pants, engage my mind. Yet no one listens. This is why I prefer being talked dirty to or having dirty stories read to me in bed rather than seeing porn — I’m not a visual person to get turned on sexually. This is one of the reasons why I’ve always been a big fan of phone sex.
I need all my senses on fire.
I also realised I’m not a dating kind of person. This means, I can’t just casually date someone. I’ve tried that and it doesn’t work. I want to crawl under the skin and get to know them and what makes them tick. That’s the challenge. I need to have their attention on me and my attention on them. It’s fearful isn’t? Almost intimidating, but, this works for me. I need to meet someone and know that if we are “talking” that they are talking to me and no one else. Monogamous from the start. It’s not that I’m jealous or insecure, it’s just that it takes so much damned energy to get to know someone, to spread it out over several someones just seems ridiculous to me.
It’s been said that men are logical creatures, romance goes out the window a lot of the times. In conversations with my brother and his friend tonight seem to mark that as being true. My brother said he never saw me as the getting married type, and while I can see where he is coming from to say that, I feel that he is wrong. I just don’t think I’m the type for a
“conventional” marriage. Not in the white picket fence, 2.5 kids and 3 dogs way. That is not me. Is marriage? Yes, it is.
My dating experiences this year were minute, at best. But they were powerful. I was able to find a lot about what I wanted from these few experiences. Will I jump back in the dating ring again? Not in the tractional sense, no.
I’m braver, stronger and more assured now. Something I could not say a year ago. Not even six months ago. I’m not willing to be with someone for the sake of being someone and I’m not willing to be with someone if they do not feel the same as I do. I’m not willing to risk my life with someone who isn’t willing to risk themselves for me. Because it will never work out.
A lot has changed over the this past year, internally, with me. I was able to face a lot of fears, take risks romantically and pull out when it wasn’t working. I was able to look at someone I loved for 15 years and tell him I was not going to sleep with him even when it was offered. Can you imagine, how incredibly hard and painful that was to do that? But I knew he wasn’t going to fuck me because it was “me,” he was going to fuck me because I was available pussy. I cried and cried and cried. When the end came, and he wanted to do the friendship with benefits routine, I told him on the phone I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t be this person who randomly was available for quick and easy sex, because it would be, to me, just meaningless and empty sex.
I hung up on him. Never heard from him again. Never slept with him either. The only saving grace to my ego is that all he has to remember me is one of my internationally known blow jobs, ones that he remembered after all these years. He received two from me recently. Frightening isn’t it when your memory is reduced to a blow job?
Regardless of how that relationship worked out, it was needed, no matter what my friends said. I had to see him and confront him and gamble. I learned by my interaction with him just what kind of woman I was. I liked who I have became, that I was willing to risk it all for love and to walk away with no regrets when I wasn’t the person for him. That will be something I want to teach my children, to take risks. Take that chance. You never know what could happen.
I want to be with someone who is a risk taker, who is willing to gamble. Who isn’t afraid of being with me and knowing that being with me is not something entirely simple. I want someone who has goals, dreams and energy. Who, sexually, isn’t afraid of being sensual/passionate one night and slutty the next.
I always argued that I was a simple person, and I still think that is true. I just think my simplicity is different because I have so many layers. I used to think they were barriers or walls, Throw up so many, become defensive when accosted on something, toss it away and walk away being called a cold-hearted bitch. But, in retrospect, that isn’t true. We are often scared of what we do not understand, and I think much of the bad juju I got from exes is that they could not understand me and or they were frustrated when they thought they could “read me” and it was wrong. Or I did something that was different from previous interaction with me. But that, my dears, is part of my charm.
I do not feel like the bitter old lady that I often portray, I feel brave and hopeful. More hopeful than I had in years. I was able to get rid of a lot of demons this year, ones that I never knew existed and I’m able to be more up front about what I want and what I want.
Yeah.
PS: Masturbation lately has been in overtime. Self-realization has kicked my libido into over gear even more so and it’s driving me bat shit. Marathon masturbation sessions lasting over an hour have been common in this house. I’m telling you, I feel mightily sorry for the next guy I date because he is NOT going to know what has hit him.
x0x0xx

damn you, Freud!

I’m blaming Freud for all my ill will right now, even though he is indirectly related. If he hadn’t come up with the cockamamie scheme of psychoanalysis, and if his children hadn’t spawned it, it would not have been part of my Intro To Lit Theory class that I had to take this past semester.
I can still see the textbook, flipped open to that page, discussing how individuals who tend to change things about themselves rather frequently have this: unstable sense of self.
In short, they have no idea who the hell they are!
Sound familiar?
It’s been the anathema of my life, really. (Would have you know that it pays to look up words that you are not sure the spelling of. I almost had “anthema” — which means to blossom. Amazing what one little letter does.)
It’s days like this that I need to take stock on what and who I am. So
let’s begin:

  • I’m 31.
  • I have my own apartment, stocked full of materialistic goodies.
  • Brand new 04 car.
  • Two pugs.
  • Family that loves me (even when they get on my nerves).
  • Exes who come and go out of my life, but overall general good relations.
  • I have 90/60 blood pressure, all my own teeth, hair is not greying and I’ve lost 30lbs this year.
  • Never been to prison, have my GED, going to colleg,e and tend to keep myself out of trouble.
  • Friends, far and wide, who love me.

So why, then, am I not happy?
I’m on this middle ground and it’s driving me crazy! Of course. On one hand, all of my friends (real and virtual) are shacking up and getting married, having babies and of COURSE I am happy for them. But. I’ve been down that road before and it’s not really something I care to get into again. I’ve lived with enough men, had enough proposals and what not for any woman in her own lifetime.
Yet there is this underlying and unquenchable thirst to NEED. But what is it that I need?
What. Is. It. That. I. Need. To. Make. Me. Happy.
I found that my own paradigm of thought was more different than others this year during classes. I did just as well as some of the best students but the train of thought that I would follow was never the same as the others. At first this disturbed me, because I thought I was wrong (if you are not following the herd, then you must be — right?) Later, as the grades start pouring in and I was doing just as well as they were, I realised I was right to continue on this path. But my path was different and while I embraced the difference, it felt like it was reflecting really my life as a whole.
Because I’ve never, ever, done anything by the book.
As you already may know.
2003 was about looking for who I was, to dismiss everything that made me feel icky and take me by the horns. I needed to heal and I needed to get my shit together, and consciously I did that. I made concrete decisions and found out WHO I was, after all this time. I took chances that I would have never taken before and I resisted things that I knew would end up
hurting me. Most of this, of course, resulted in my choices of men. I was no longer going to date someone simply because they were interested in me, rather, I was going to make sure that I was interested in them. Also, I was not going to allow myself to make decisions based on my loins either. Which was difficult to do.
So who is Lisa?
This is ironic, but, I was watching Charmed a few weeks back (via Tivo, of course) and one of the minor characters said to Phoebe (one of the major ones, if you don’t watch it) that so many women of her generation wanted to be independent and have careers, and when it came down to it, they were finding themselves in their 40s and 50s, alone. Not sharing their success with anyone because no one was around. That saddened me, because that was the life (or one of the lives) I had predicted for myself. I was (and to an extent) so thoroughly tired of relationships, I wanted nothing more than to be alone. But that is not working out EITHER, as I have discovered.
Another really cheesy thing I had read somewhere, was how if you spend so much time looking for yourself, you end up losing yourself. Life is in the here and now, and with that I do agree. This is why I dismiss most of the crackpot shrinks, drugs and what not, because I’ve been following their plan for the last 20 years and where did it get me? Bwahahah! More confused than ever!
But what it is about ‘me’ that is so uniquely different than everyone else? Oh, I know the old saying “You’re different than everyone else” but, I can’t keep feeling that somehow I’m ‘more different’ than those other unique people. I’m not sure if it is because they found someone to be happy with, or what the case is, but you know, this shit is for the birds!
I’m a lot stronger than I was a year ago. I’m a lot more positive and yes, in many aspects I’m happier, a lot happier. But the bottom line is, there is still something missing that needs to make me fulfilled and I really, REALLY wish I knew what that was.
x0x0x
Lisa
ps: I dismiss the crackpot theory about the unstable sense of self, because like most theories, it tends to generalize and not be concrete.

I have loved you for 15 years!: Miguel Part IX

disclaimer:
Alright, I just got home. Those pics of me and him were taken within the last couple of hours and I look like hell. But I do want to say this again: I had NO INTENTION of finding him to hook up again. While I agree that it looks and smells like a duck, it’s not a duck. While familiarity may breed ground, it’s been 10 YEARS! I’m not that desperate or lonely to look up an ex just because I’m single. Let’s say that other revelations that came out today were also not planned. Just because it smells like a duck, quacks like a duck, it may not necessarily be a duck.
Just, please, don’t judge. Just support me no matter what, okay?
———-
Within the last couple of days, I came to realization of a few things.
I thought to myself, I’m nearly 32 years old. I’m single. I have a string of relationships that have failed behind and while there is some that would have failed, why wasn’t I married yet? Why was I overly picky about the guys I dated and then it dawned on me. Really, it was quite clear.
It was because of Miguel.
Everything just suddenly made fucking SENSE!
Same thing with why I made my name on the internet. It was not that I did not necessarily care per se BUT that I wanted him to find me.
I waited for 10 fucking years.
Jesus. Yah, I got on with life, dated etc but that part inside of me was always waiting for him to show up at my door (and he’s the type to do it).
I’m a sentimental old romantic aren’t I?
I promised myself that no matter what, I was not going to spill this out to him today. It just wasn’t my place to say it. It wasn’t. So I tried not to say it.
But i told him all of this, all of this and more.
———-
He was good on the tattoos. Didn’t say a peep. Dawned on me earlier this afternoon that he hadn’t said a damned word. I asked. “I got over it.” He said. Woah. I was impressed. He means what he says and he says what he means. This was a new one for me. I looked at him with new eyes.
It was never really about the damn tattoos. It was about me being back in his life again, like gangbusters.
———-
I don’t know how it all began, and in a way I do. I know we were coming back from Chicago and were in MI and we were talking about US again. That whole concept of us. The GF had called a few times during the day, and i had curled up in my seat reading my book, not saying a peep. They didn’t sound like bf/gf, to me. We talked more about them and I said:
“look, i’m saying this objectively and it may not come out that way because of my interest in it, I admire that you want to make your relationship with Sarah work BUT there comes a time and a place where you have to make yourself happy. I did that with paul. I worked my ass off because I did not WANT to fail at that relationship and after a while, I lost who I was. I was living through him to make it work and while he did change, it wasn’t working out that way. It never does.”
He said “I never thought about that way.”
Later on, he kept saying “I need to feel you out. I need to know who you are.”
“You can’t have your cake and eat it too, you know.”
“Oh, well what do you mean by that?”
“Look, you can’t keep seeing me in GR, even as ‘friends’ and then if it doesn’t work out, you can’t go ‘oh well! I have Sarah in MO.”
“DAMN GIRL! You are devious! I never thought of that. Damn.” He said quietly, “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“You already have.”
———-
Then I started crying.
———-
A torrent opened within him out came the things that I never expected to hear ever in my lifetime.
I was his “little fabrage egg” (exact words) when he was with me. I was not in his world, I was pristine and proper and had no idea to what was going on. He kept me at a distance when we were together because he didn’t want me involved in that world. My house and my arms were his safe haven. He wanted to protect me and at the same time, so much shit was going down that he needed to get his life together and keep emotional attachments at bay. He could be himself with me. The relationships that followed were all disposable, even the 7 year long one. There was no real committment. While he had not said it in so many words, I gathered he had been in love with me all these years.
“Don’t you see,” I said, “What this means?”
“Hrm?”
I explained about the relationships. I explained what they meant to me. Yes, I loved them, but it wasn’t the same. I was not in love with them, and probably never was.
“I’ve been in love with you for 15 years!!”
Yes Lisa, you don’t beat around the bush do you.
“Do you see now why I can’t be ‘just friends’ with you?”
“Yes, now it all makes sense why you were so cagey about it.”
Silence followed.
I sniffled.
“I wish I could put you and Sarah together so that you two would be the perfect girl. No one would get hurt. I just don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“You already have.”
More tears followed.
I said something like this.
“I’ve been in love with you for 15 years. I knew about what was going on then and it doesn’t matter. I just wanted to be with YOU, to be loved by you. To be yours. Don’t you get it? I got tired of waiting for your ass. I had to find you.”
I said a lot more, but it’s all hazy now.
“I don’t deseve you or your love. It’s like going downstairs at Christmas morning, expecting one present and finding five. I’m a loser. Yah, I’ve cleaned up, I’m legit. I do my own thing. But everyone around me, is a facade. I’m the fat funny guy everyone likes. I can pick up and leave at a moments notice. Sarah? She’s disposable. They DONT KNOW ME like you know me. You are the only one who has known me before and after and when I’m with you, I feel I want to be a better man. I feel like I need to earn and make you worthy, for I am not. You need someone worthy of your love and I’m pond scum. I deal with pond scum. I have never had anyone tell me anything like this ever in my life. I don’t feel like I need to put up a facade. I can be myself around you. It’s not that it’s uncomfortable, because you and I have always been homies, it’s that it’s weird. In my head, it’s still 1989. Do you understand? You need to date a geek.”
“I”m almost 32 years old, do you NOT understand I know what I want and don’t want? That I’ve dated enough men to know who is worthy of me and who is not. I love you. Do you think I PLANNED on falling in love with a long-haired harely riding trucker?”
“I can’t believe I Just told you that. I have NEVER told anyone that before and I can’t believe I just voiced all of that to you, even though that is what I have always thought.”
I said nothing.
He held my hand while he drove.
———-
There was so much more that was said, so much more that I wish I could have written down and have it, but never did. Things were clicking in my head faster than I could count. The world seemed clearer and more concise. I told him, that if it didn’t work out between us, I was really okay with that. I tried. I was HIS white knight, came to save him, instead of being the white knight to everyone else. He replied that was true. He wants to be worthy of me and lead a better life. He was closing doors down to get rid of any last residual. He’s afraid of commitment, true committment because he knows that with everyone else, they are disposable. He loves them and he wants them safe and cared for, but he knows now I demand all of him. Something, that really, neither one of us really have done before.
He’s scared shitless and so am I.
———-
I had told him, a few days ago, that after I had ridden with him on Tuesday, I came out of the shower and smelt him in my apartment. I couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on and in this particular place in my apartment, his cologne still lingered EVEN THOUGH he did not wear any when he came over on Saturday night.
When we got back to his house, I ran upstairs and had to use his bathroom. His bottle of cologne was in the bathroom and I just picked up the bottle and smelled, smiling.
———-
I’ve created a monster.
he’s a closet geek. He’s hip to the lingo man. He told everyone that would care to listen how smart and talented I was and even before all these declarations of uh, love, I was invited to go to a party with him for his birthday which is coming up. Yah, he’s OLDER than me — go figure.He told everyone what I was doing with the camera and together we took over 200 pictures of today which I will put up later. He is anxious to learn more and know more about gadgets and is better educated than most people. HE LOVES TECHNOLOGY. I told him how I met paul and he thought that was cool and he wasn’t condescending about me shagging up with Paul via the Internet. I told him everything from what happened when I left MI in 1997 to the present. I told him about the world I had seen and what I had done and he did not question or make me feel like I made mistakes.
When we got to his house, he was expecting some parts for his Audi and UPS had left a note. This ended up with me looking at his computer again. I had sat next to him all day calling him “Captain” as we drove around and he sat next to me at the computer as I went to work calling me “Captain.”
“Don’t stop believing” by Journey came on digital radio and I said “Dance with me” — he said where? HERE? Yah I said, and I kicked my boots off. We swayed old school to the song and he said “lisa, this is not a slow song” “Shut the fuck up and dance with me!” I laughed. So we danced with my arms around his neck in his dining room to the song.
He pulled away.
I pulled back.
“Dance with me.”
1am in the morning and we are swaying old school, giggling, to Journey in his dining room.
He ran around the house taking pictures of things. I laughed at him as he ran around taking pictures of pictures. He dug up old OLD pics of him as a kid and when I first met him and my god, has time flown. I told him how I had shown his picture to an old friend of ours and how she had been ragging on me that I was going to be a biker bitch now. “You’ll never be a biker bitch, Lisa. I don’t WANT you to be.” We laughed.
———-
He asked me to stay the night, again. I demurely declined.
He’s taking his Audi in tomorrow to get worked on and asked me to follow him so that he could get back home. He hadn’t driven it in a week and he went out and started our cars and we stood awkwardly in his living room. We hugged. He pulled away — GODDAMNIT! (he said) You still smell the same!
As I was dropping him off, I turned off the lights and we sat in my warm car, our ass cheeks warmed from the seat heaters. He started babbling. “YOu don’t want to leave do you?” “I’m babbling aren’t I?” He smiled. He hugged me and it was a quirky little hug, “See you around? You got school and stuff. Work starting back up on monday.” “I get out at 4pm M,T,TH,F. I’m off on Wednesdays.” “Oh yah?” “Yah.”
“So, would you like to go see a movie with me?”
“Mmm… sure.”
———-
Friday (tomorrow? today?) I’m heading to my mom’s for the weekend. He’s heading to MO, preplanned, to hang out with Sarah. He told me the last few days that he doesn’t want to have sex with her. I told him he doesn’t have to do that, it’s HIS girlfriend. “I just no longer find her desirable.” “But you don’t HAVE to do that. I do understand.”
———-
I was his tumbleweed. He never expected me in a million years to show back up in his life and here I was, spent two days with him in his ‘tractor’ (not cab, i was wrong) spending 16 hour stretches with him and talking. So much was FUCKING SAID. So much that we never said in the past, so much that needed to be said NOW. We are adults now and it’s fresh, it’s new. It was something but there was all this energy going on then and now it’s clear sailing.
“I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“You’ll only disappoint me if you don’t try.”
I told him I still had the tshirt he gave me when we first met, from his parent’s pizza place 15 years ago. The business is gone and his parents split up. I came home wondering where the damn shirt was, thinking it was in one of the million of boxes in my bedroom. It was piled, with the other shirts. I dug it out and it’s sitting in front me. It’s yellowing, with age. I hold it close to me and smile.
———-
We never kissed beyond Sunday night. We never had sex. As the guards came down and we became more in tune with each other, it was like our own little private club. Same as in the past. We were, ourselves with each other. No facades. No disposable lovers. No nothing. I can’t look at him without wanting to crawl into his skin. I would spend hours staring at him as he drove and he would look at me, wiggle his eyebrows and we would laugh. Every guy I had dated past him, all had parts of him. I never FUCKING knew that, until today. Everything I wanted in someone, was based off of him. How fucked is that? I told him that.
———-
I do feel stronger. I feel — more complete. More within myself. I know who I am now and I know what my future looks and if he can’t take the balls and dump the zero, than, well, I will live without him. It is his loss. I will be hurt, I will curse and I will scream and shake an angry fist at the sky but I will go on.
But, I love him.
I do.
I felt it in my heart and I felt things in the last few days I have not felt in a very long time.
I love him.
Get ready for the ride of a lifetime.

On the road again

Just got off the phone with Miguel and I’m going out tomorrow with him again on the road. He saw the pictures online and was super impressed because he didn’t know anyone personally who was into that. I told him so many people were impressed with what we did and his job that he was excited. He wants to get more pictures of his cab and he’s going to give me all the correct terminology so I can update the captions correctly.
I’ll see you guys later.

International diss Lisa day

Someone emailed me politely about my lack of lj-cut skills *koff* and I went through and cleaned up the last month or so of entries. They are all nice and neat behind lj-cut. When I told another person what i had done, they told me they were thinking of removing me because of my recent straying from using the lj-cut foo. In so far as the verbosity, well, if you can’t deal with all the posts, either remove me or create a Lisa filter. I’m not cutting down on number of posts per day because someone doesn’t like it.
I had forgotten that it was Danny’s birthday yesterday. He got on Yahoo! before I left to go tutor with the Literacy Council tonight and I asked him if he wanted to hang out tonight to celebrate his birthday.
He said “Well, South Park is on.”
“I get home at 6-6:30pm and South Park is not on until 10. You’re going ot be busy for four hours?”
“Well, I have shit to do and you have homework.”
“I’m on fall break.”
“Oh.”
If you are going to engage in conversation with me, and I have told you I’m trying to get out the door, do not sit there and play these ‘games’ with my time if you know I’m in a hurry. I asked him out and he was being wishy-washy. I told him I was going to be home between 6-6:30pm, to come over and we’d hang out and do whatever. He said fine.
It’s now going on 9pm, no Danny. Fuck it, I’m tired of his shit and I’m done even attempting to be friends with him.
To make matters worse, when I got to the library today to tutor, my student was not there. I had told her last week that I was going to try to switch our days to Tuesday but I called and told her that we were still on for Wednesday, same bat time, same bat channel. I told her to call my cell to confirm she got the vm. Never called. Checked my home phone last night and no message from her. I just assumed she would be at the library. She wasn’t. I ran all over the damn place looking for her and no phone call or nothing as to why she skipped.
Great.
Earlier today, I was on the phone with the family realtor. We had an appointment today, but I got up so damn late that I called her an hour before our appointment to tell her that we (my brother and I) were not going to show up. I had tried to call Jeff earlier to reschedule We ended up on the phone for hours talking about family and catching up etc. My brother called me at 10:50am (our appointment was for originally at 11am and we live a good 15 minutes from her, not including time to go pick up his ass). He called an additional three times looking for info.
He just called me about our next appointment and I went through what she wanted us to bring to the meeting. She’s like a family friend and she did well by my mom on her house purchase so I feel comfortable doing this. But then I remembered the little incident of what Jeff pulled at the restaurant Saturday with Miguel there and I got really fucking angry. We started screaming and hung up.
I’m not buying a house with my brother. I’m going to try to do this alone.
Fuck. Jeff. I don’t need my 24 year old brother ratting me out and telling my secrets to someone I had not seen for 10 years let alone sit there and tell me in the restaurant that I was being too harsh to his roommate and then turn around and do it to me. He then says — “Well, you do it all the time!” — OH WHEN? WE NEVER SEE EACH OTHER.
Conversations between my ex-Paul and me:
LisaIsAModgirl: www.modgirl.net/gallery/bigrig
angrypauly: interesting
LisaIsAModgirl: what?
LisaIsAModgirl: graham says he looks like you
angrypauly: bleh
LisaIsAModgirl: pauly
LisaIsAModgirl: i dated him when i was 17!~
angrypauly: mhm
LisaIsAModgirl: till i was 22!
LisaIsAModgirl: You and I have been split up for a year.
angrypauly: mhm
angrypauly: i can still be jealous
LisaIsAModgirl: mhm.
angrypauly: im always jealous of my exs
angrypauly: MINE
angrypauly: hehe
LisaIsAModgirl: :p
angrypauly: i dont share
angrypauly: <- failed kintergarden
LisaIsAModgirl: lol
MEN! ARE! PIGS!

Everytime we hopped out of the cab, he’d walk next to me: Miguel Part VIII

Everytime we hopped out of the cab, he’d walk next to me, shoulder to shoulder. How did you get so tall?
I held up my foot, It’s the boots I said. He’s pretty short, only about 6’1.
We went to this kitschy little chinese resturant somewhre in New Buffalo and I had walked by him and kicked him in the ass with my foot sideways as I walked by. He started laughing.
The process to load steel takes a long time — we were laying in the back of the cab, spooning in the cab. We held hands and giggled listening to a local talk radio show on AM radio while the trailer rocked from the steel being loaded.
————–
“Did you ever write down ‘Lisa Dunkelberger’?” he asked me.
Yah, I said. All the time. When I was 17.
We laughed.
“My mother won’t like your tattoos.”
“Has Sarah met your mother.”
No he said and smiled. His mother lives in Guam and has been for years.
“not my problem.” I said and just looked at him.
“What will our kids say?”
“That mom was a cool ass bitch and daddy was a codgy old fuck.”
“You’re probably right.” and we laughed together.
“We are not even dating,” I said, “and you have us picking out china patterns!”
————–
I had brought my essays with me from Modern Cinema (I picked up my final and got an A on it). I explained the movies we watched and the questions and my answers and he was like “woah there Einstein!” All day he kept calling me Einstein. He loved it. He got all excited when we talked about Ameros Perros, Annie Hall and The Godfather.
————–
He has a girlfriend.
Sorta.
When he and I split up, he fucked around and met up with a woman 10 years his senior, who he ended up staying with for 7 years. Once that ended, He met up with Sarah, who is 12 years his junior. It’s not my place to say what occurred between them, but I will say that from his perspective, I got angry because of the way she treated him. Even went so far at one point to try and beat the shit out of him (and he stands about 6’1). He kicked her out and assumed she was going to move into her own apartment down the street and she ended up moving to Missouri with her mother. Lots of baggage. They broke up and he’s not happy but they have been talking again and were working on things but — the thing is, she’s in MO — of course things are great but he’s not happy, he doesn’t look happy and he told me more. He said he needed to tie up things with her. He was with her because she was familiar and comforting — despite everything.that had happened. “In short,” I said, “She’s asked you to put your life on hold?” “My life is not on hold.” “Yes it is.” He just looked at me for a long time and didn’t say anything.
————–
His cell phone is dead and he’s waiting for Nextel to replace it. He won’t have the phone on the road and i know that if the rest of the week is anything like today, I won’t hear from him until tonight. I already made the decision to spend the night, if he asks. No sex. Just sleeping. That will be the true test of intimacy. I just want to be with him.
This weekend, I’m going to my mom’s and he’s going to MO, which was already planned far in advanced. What happens after this weekend will be what will happen.
He told me, quite passionately, that he doesn’t want me out of his life again, no matter what happens after all of this is said and done. I thought about this and today I feel strong enough to handle that. On the other hand, I don’t know if I can handle that. Despite everything that was said and done, I had NO INTENTION of looking him up to shag. Danny was one thing, Miguel was another. I did not expect to still feel what I feel and I did not expect to still find him sexually attractive. That was a bonus. But come what may, this was the right decision. It makes me more free to move on.
————–
Miguel has nothing to do with the following.
I started making life plans more concrete. I have an appointment with a family realtor next week to buy a house here in GR. That has a been a decision that has been coming down the pipes for months. I’m tired of paying rent and the girls not having a place to call their own. I want a bedroom with red paint and a nifty headboard for my bed. I will still go to school until I graduate from Aquinas in 05. Hopefully with honors. I will still be taking the GRE’s in the spring and applying to grad school next fall. But I started talking to Miguel about my dream to open up my own coffee shop/book store again, one dream I’ve harbored for years and i want to do that too.
The world has suddenly all these possibilities.