Commenting

So I tried to post a comment and I simply cannot get it to work. What happened? Did Blogger change everything? I tried to post with a Google account when it asked me to select a profile, but it just reloads the original blog entry. It doesn't post a thing. What happened? Anyone know how to make it work?

The Harpist

Just wanted to share with the world that I'm officially a giddy school-girl again. Every time I think about... (for privacy-sake I'll just call him The Harpist) - anytime I think about the Harpist, I smile and get all giggly inside. It's a warm wonderful feeling that I've not had in a long time.

Am I too quick to feel like this over someone? I would normally have said, yes. Yes, it's way too soon because I don't know him well yet. I've always admired from afar those people who say sparks flew the instant they met and all that other mushy nonsense...and I also shook my head and thought how ridiculous it really was because in real life, that just doesn't happen.

But now I have to wonder if there's not some reality to it all. I suppose people can feel excited about another person right away. Perhaps I've always thought it wasn't real because I'd never experienced it for myself. And because I've never experienced it for myself, I also ponder that maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. I don't know what's ruling my emotions...head, heart, chemicals? Am I over-thinking EVERYTHING like I always do? Probably.

I've only dated the Harpist a few times so far. But they were amazing dates. The best first date I've EVER had. No weird awkward moments; no silent staring; no weird conversations involving too much information. It was all wonderful. And I've never kissed on a first date before either. That was a lovely first experience.

Naturally, little things are starting to surface...like what's moving too fast and what's not. Is it all in my head - this instant attraction? And I really don't want to think about these things. I'm trying really hard to just stop thinking and go with the flow for once. I know things will move along just fine and fretting about it all will only spoil my excitement.

As of right now, I am loving this feeling I have and I want to relish it for a good, long time. So if you see me smiling and giggling to myself, you'll know it's because I'm thinking of the Harpist.

What fickle creatures we girls can be

Isn't it funny how we can be so neurotic over phone calls from men. If a guy doesn't call soon enough, or not frequently enough, (or not at all), we stress and moan about it. Then if a guy does call very frequently, we may then be prone to complaining about how often they call, and how it's borderline clingy. (And hey, any guy would say the same thing about the clingy part.) We want a man who calls, just not too much, but enough to make it clear that he likes us, only not twice a day in the beginnings of a relationship, because then that would be needy. I admit that the female mind is not always logical.

And I say all of this because I currently have this situation on my mind. I had a really fantastic date this last Friday night. Then on Saturday, he called and we chatted. Then Sunday he gave me a brief call and said maybe dinner Tuesday or Wednesday? And I said yes. And he said he'd call again to make plans. Then Monday...another call. Wednesday is decided on, but not where. He says he'll call later.

As of right now in this narrative, he's called every day since the first date. My female mind is racing with thoughts of "Omigosh! He called. He likes me. He's still into me after the first date. Score!" Then it's followed by, "Wow! Another call a day later. This is awesome." Third day, "Hmm, he sure calls a lot. I hope he's not needy." Fourth day, "No call yet. What gives? We still need to set details of our next date. Is he going to call again?"

Yes, you read that right. As of tonight, no call today. And I've already gotten used to him calling! You'd think that after three consecutive days, I would know that he's into me. But the illogical, self-conscious part of the girl brain-train derails all happy thoughts with this one evening of phone-silence. We made plans for Wednesday, so sure; he'll call again. After days of talking, I know that he's super busy getting ready for a school trip, (he's a music instructor), and it's a hectic time for him. So I should just calm the crazy down. But alas, the crazy girl in all of us usually wins out. She does worry awfully loud.

So yeah, only one date but I'm super excited because I think I really like him. Just looking forward to that next call...
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He just texted!

Hello Again

Hello Internet. How have you been? Sorry I haven't talked to you in a long time. I've been busy. Did you have a good holiday? As you probably already figured out, I come and go from this blog thing. I take many long breaks between writing. Either nothing interesting has happened or I've got the writer's block again. Lately, it's been both. But I do have news.

So what's happened since the last time I blogged?

The job I got at Basin Healthcare as the early-ass morning receptionist is no more. I was promoted to Administrative Assistant to the CEO. This means I'm now going to work from 8am to 5pm. No more 4:30am wake-up alarms. Yay. (And the pay-raise is splendid.)

I'm going to Austin for spring break. I felt the need to get out of town and decided on Austin. Why go to Austin again? Well mostly it is because I'm determined to take a proper trip there. The last handful of times I've been were whirlwind 2 day trips. I'm tired of all of that driving just to spend 2 days there. This time it's going to be 3, not counting driving time. At least, that's my plan. Drive in really early one day and have the rest of that afternoon and evening; have the next two days for whatever I feel like; the fourth day will be a half-day because I will need to drive home in the afternoon. I really hope it goes as planned. People close to me know how OCD I get when it comes to plans.
I just can't help it. I try to apologize to people in advance. But once I get a schedule in my head, I am compelled to follow it. If there's a speed-bump, a detour, or any other sidetrack in the plan, I get very antsy. I can't help it. I feel like things aren't going according to plan and I'm missing out on something, and that means things aren't right. And they need to be right. See? OCD.

The ex and I are in the friend zone now - where it should be. There's no real awkwardness when we hang out with our friends. We even get lunch together sometimes just to stay in touch. So it's all good. I don't have to put up with his hi-jinks anymore and when he tries to pressure me into drinking or something, I firmly say no and shut the door on that conversation instead of letting him keep trying like I used to do. In fact, now he's realized it too and doesn't bother me about stuff like that. It feels good not to deal with it anymore.

There's a few other things too that I could mention, but I'm saving those for posts later.

Dad discovers cause of daughter's lack of a relationship.

My dad frustrates me...no, infuriates me sometimes. And this morning was one of those times. I don't know if it's because it was 5:38 in the AM when I was leaving for work; if it's because what he said is simply ridiculous; or there's also the likelihood that it's a touch of PMS on my part. I'm not sure, but I felt the need to let out a very loud frustrated shout-sigh. How would you describe that thing women do when we just let out a heavy, vocalized breath? I also let loose a few choice words and the finger (not at him, but towards the house).

What crawled up my skin? He chose the moment I was putting on my coat to leave for work to walk out into the living room to bitch about the bathroom trashcan. I threw away a contact solution box into the small trashcan in the bathroom. This was apparently a great offense. Why was this act of throwing away trash into a trashcan a problem? Because apparently the bathroom trashcan is much too small for such a giant box that was my contact solution box. It overpowered the puny bathroom trashcan. And this is what he bitched about.

"How many times do I have to tell you that the bathroom trashcan is not meant for large boxes?"

Really!? Large box? Well, I googled an image so you can see for yourself. Granted, I could not find a picture of someone holding it, but you could always swing by the vison product aisle at the store next time you're out, you know, just in case you're curious.

I did not say anything after he bitched about the box and the trashcan. I did not feel like contributing to a ridiculous conversation. (I also do not like talking to people so much so very early in the morning anyway.)

My dad then went on to say, "It's no wonder you can't make a relationship work; you're such a slob."

(Pause to let outrageous comment sink in; grow into small ball of fury in pit of stomach.)

EXCUSE ME? I'm not in a realationship because I'm a slob?? Oh THAT'S why I couldn't make my last relationship work! I was with the guy for a year, but I guess because I'm a slob, he couldn't take it anymore and cheated on me.

So I guess I can't find a realtionship because I throw trash away in a trashcan. Next time, I'll throw my trash on the floor NEXT to the trashcan. That way the little bathroom trashcan won't have to suffer the strain of a giant-ass contact solution box. Oh the horror! I can't find a realtionship because I'm a fucking slob!!! What the fuck?!?

This all sounds like a silly story from Austin's The Onion. The headline would read: "Area dad discovers cause of daughter's lack of a relationship. Throwing trash in trashcan to blame."

I cannot remember a time when I wanted nothing more than to say, "What the fuck?!" and then flip him the bird...to his face. Seriously. What the fuck was this morning about? I'm not over it yet and I probably won't be for some time. And in the future when he upsets me, I'm always going to come back to this moment as well to show how frustrating and rude he is.

Nothing like a hot steaming cup of bitch-fest to wake you up in the morning.

Frustrated

I always have the energy and the train of thought to write during the morning while at work, but when I get home, I'm too tired to think and I never get around to it. But today I had a small inclination to write so I figured I best get on the computer before I lose it.

So what's on my mind these days? Not much; this and that; and yet I'm sure I'll rant endlessly about something. For starters, the ex-boyfriend. No, I do not want to get back with him, nor has either of us breached this topic. It's just not going to happen. We shall remain friends, but it's turning out that we won't be as close as I had previously hoped. And is that a good thing or not? I don't really know yet. I thought it would be nice to have a friend that knows so much about me, but then, since we're exes, maybe it's not a good idea? Anyway, I've felt frustrated with him lately.

I first noticed that I was frustrated with him at the beginning of October. A friend of everyone's had moved back to New Jersey and he was in town for a 4-day weekend the first weekend of October. We were all at a restaurant/bar on Friday night. There was about four or five of us and after the first hour, the drinking began. Upon our friend's dive into inebriation, Daniel chuckled and sighed in a I-give-up sort of way and said, It's going to be one of those nights. And at that statement, I had a moment of clarity. I was suddenly SO frustrated with Daniel and his late-night habits. Night after night he stays up all night and barely sleeps; then he trudges in to work either sleep deprived or hung over. He always says he needs to get a regular schedule or that he should cut back, but when crunch time comes, he chokes. When he said that he felt it was the start of another "one of those nights," I wanted to go off on him. I wanted to tell him that he was being ridiculous. It only becomes "one of those nights" because he lets it. He could simply chose to say, No, not tonight, and then go home. But does he? No. He stays out. He makes a conscious decision to stay out and drink the night away and then he whines that he had another of those nights. Bullshit! It's all bullshit and I was, at that moment, exhausted by it. He has the choice to stay out or go home, and he never goes home. (And frankly, on the odd occasion that he does, he drinks a bottle of wine by himself.) He just lets the current of the night take him off on a stupor when he could just freakin' say, No thanks, I should get home now. BUT HE DOESN'T. And that's what is so frustrating to me.

And I came really close to saying it too. But I held off because I was in a sour mood and tired from work and knew that if I said anything, my tone would definitely have been rude. And ever since then, when I see his Facebook status, his mobile uploads and hear stories from friends, I feel this frustration. You'd think I wouldn't because I'm not involved with him anymore. I guess it's because part of me still cares and I don't want to see him this way. A mutual friend of ours told me once that an intervention wouldn't even help him.

He also has this bar etiquette that frustrated me even when we did date. I can agree with some of it sometimes. But the way he latches on to it is part of the problem.
These bar rules of his are: 1) If someone buys you a drink, you MUST drink it.
I realize that if someone wants to be gracious and buys you one, sure, don't be rude and except it. But that you MUST drink it? What if you don't like it? I say this because there were a few times when somebody bought rounds of something (god knows what) for the table and it was awful. I did not want it. I tried it, but I did not want to make myself gag down the rest. When Daniel gets drunk, he gets loud and repetitive and he would keep telling me that I needed to finish it.
2) Always finish your drink.
Even if it's just the watered down bit from the ice. He would tell me that I still had some of my drink left. Geez. Only when he knew he was already too far gone would he leave the last of his beer behind.

And this all brings me to what frustrated me most. His idea of a good time is going out and drinking until you can't remember the night. I, on the other hand, really don't like drinking. I'll have one or two and call it quits. And I think the fact that there was still someone sober in the room made him want to make me drink even more. It's like he can't have other people around him that aren't drinking too. If he's drinking heavily, then damnit, everyone should be.

And this last bit isn't just Daniel. I want to ask: Why do people always get so shocked that I wouldn't want to drink? Why?? I really want to know. To each his own, but no... I'm not drinking? That's just weird! Puh-lease. Why can't people just say, Oh, OK and move on? I don't like how heavy drinking makes me feel. NO, it's not that I've drank so much that I'm sick now... I rarely drink to that point. Most alcohol just makes me feel bad. Most of the time it's beer. I can drink liquor and some wine. Although Merlot will have me on the floor in no time! I just don't like the feeling of bloating, dizziness etc. And if something makes someone feel bad, they don't do it. 

So to everyone who pressures their friend into drinking more than they want to, I have this to say: Back the hell off. They said no so drop it. What? You can't handle being wasted on your own so you need to drag someone down with you? Why can't you be happy that you've got a designated driver for the night?

So yeah, there's my rant. The whole alcohol thing played right into a part of Daniel that frustrates me. And now that we're not dating, I don't have to put up with it and thus I can vent now. I suppose that's plenty for now. I'm sure there was something else I wanted to write about, but I think this went on long enough.

Lunch with the ex

The now ex-boyfriend who I had lunch with Sunday was dressed up. I did not expect that at all. He was wearing the nice long-sleeve button up shirt for work that I had bought him several months ago, tucked in with a belt. Wow. This from the guy who once took me shopping in his wife-beater. His hair was trimmed too. He looked nice. His brown eyes were amplified by the brown shirt he wore. He also looked tired. He said he'd been sick and still felt kind of blah. But being tired, kind of softened his eyes too.

Frick. He was adorable.

I had sweated over what to wear. I didn't want to look TOO nice, lest he think I was desperately hoping he'd notice because I want him back so badly. No no. Can't have that look. Mostly because I don't want him back right now. (Perhaps in the future when he's matured and decides that if he wants me in his life as more than a friend, and has altered his bad habits to woo me back...and given that I'm still single...then maybe I would. But not now.) But I also didn't want to dress down too much either. It was Sunday afterall and we were meeting at an Italian restaurant. So I opted for a very nice white blouse with my skinny jeans. But upon seeing him, I felt under-dressed. But for the record, he thought I dressed up too. Whew.

There was no relationship talk. But it was still awkward in the beginning. It almost felt like a first date! And there was a moment here and there where... well you know, I could tell he missed me. I almost wish I had shown that I missed him too. And now I keep thinking about him.

I know I can't get back together with him. And my friends tell me this too. I suppose it was harder to see him so soon after all. But I didn't get that anxious, butterfly, falling-sensation in my chest when I saw him. That's a good indicator that I'm probably okay. If I had felt that, then that would mean trouble. (Danger, Will Robinson, danger!) That feeling in my chest would've meant that I was not over him at all yet. And seeing him would've been difficult.

When we hugged good-bye, I must admit, it felt nice. Very nice. (Sigh.)