A Different Kind of Love Story...

If you look at my MySpace right now you'll see a blog titled "He knows who he is". I thought long, and hard (wow that's dirty) about the implications of posting such a title let alone the content. And in an effort to make sure HE knows who HE is, I'm posting this blog. Ya know, because he's not the brightest bulb in the knife drawer...

The contents of the post is a song written by a country artist named Collin Raye. The song talks of a note that a grandfather carried around for many years, and is finally revealed as the love story of two people to the grandson on the eve that the grandmother dies.

It's a beautiful, sad song that I grew up listening to, but it's really a story of true love. He says, "If you get there before I do/Don't give up on me/I'll meet you when my chores are through/I don't know how I'll now be/But I'm not going to let you down/Darlin' wait and see/And between now and then/ till I see you again/ I'll be loving you/ Love, Me

In this particular case, the grandfather is telling his wife that if she makes it to heaven before he does not to give up on him, that he'll be there when the time was right.

I picked the song because whenever I recently heard it, it reminded me of him. But more importantly, we never seemed to be on the same track till now. I always fell a few steps behind romantically, and he is well a guy and we know about their maturity...

But recently we've found ourselves standing side-by-side, yet not together. And the song is most appropriate that if he gets there before I do, he shouldn't give up hope unless I tell him to. And what kind of love story would that be? ;)

Sense of adventure...

"What if I'm lying?"

I forget now what I was questioning my truth-telling abilities on, but KB was a quick-learner in the sarcasm department.

"Then we couldn't be friends"

"Would we still make out?"

"Only in places where people couldn't randomly bust down the door, and walk in on us"

"Well who'd of thought that Lou would try to shoot her with a nail gun?"

"What was funny!"

"Yeah, what is the one trait of couples of who have maintained a successful relationship for many years?"

"...."

"They shoot each other with nail guns..."

"Now THAT is a sense of adventure..."

At least, No one was naked...

Before today my most embarassing moment was when I was in the sixth grade. I grew up with horses, and we had just gotten one in that was locked in a stall-on a permanant basis- for 6 months, and he had developed some bad habits: such as kicking. Long story short he took off with a jump and I went flying and it landed me for two weeks in an aparatus that would not allow me to bend my knee. (And consequently for a doctor to not be able to examine me without threats of physical harm if he touched me). I was also on crutches.

I had gone into the women's bathroom and made the hugest mistake of propping the crutches up on the door. While I was doing my business, they fell down and unlocked the door! I quick stood up to shut the door, but having my knee immobilized I was unable to move quickly enough! A girl I knew pretty well from my cheerleading days was standing right in clear view of the whole thing!

Sundays I always head down to hang out with KB and we always end up eating dinner with his family as of late. I had forgotten (apparently as had he) that his sister and her boyfriend had left the premises till she came running in through the garage door screaming her head off which stopped only when she found us in a lip lock. Yes, we were caught making out! All she could say was "ooh sorry" and made sure she knocked the next time she wanted to talk to us.

Thankfully no one was naked...

Isn't it Ironic?

Last night was quite an adventure. I purposely didn't do much of anything yesterday because of the whole being tired thing. I literally walked through my door at 4:35 a.m. Saturday morning and was out of bed prior to 12 p.m.

I met up with Bill where we hit Applebees for burgers and then the movie theatre for "SuperBad". The title doesn't elude the movie. It was terrible!

But that's not the best part....

Around 5 a.m. I awoke to find myself shirtless and SCRATCHING my week old tattoo. It was enough to wake me from a dream, and essentially a DEAD ASS sleep. I freaked, jumped out of bed examining my tat for any damage. I was lucky, the damage is minor, and hardly noticeable, unless pointed out, but it WILL need touched up.

I kicked the closet door closed to allow the air conditioner to properly circulate the air and went back to sleep.

Around 6 a.m. I'm awoken to the sound of flapping above my head. I knew instantaneously what it was: a bat. I apprehensively turned out the light to find it immediately above my bed sitting calmly, to which I fled the room.

I awoke my grandfather who engaged in about 1/2 an hour of 'beat the wild animal' before seeing a Target bag being thrown out the front door.

KB laughed it up when I told him-and suggested there might be bat babies just waiting to be hatched! And then when I walked through the door he said "Hey Batwoman." That is so not funny.

Perhaps the most ironic things about the whole situation:

1. I deleted "J"'s messages that day. I save messages and never listen to them again. I had three who's "retention time was about to expire" but I swore if I heard that one more time I'd throw something. Delete them already!

2. My grandmother said they hadn't had a bat in the house since THEIR kids were little, and we now had 2 in the same week.

If you know "J" please tell him to keep his pets to himself!

Like the movie...

On Saturday night after the party, and before we got in, Josh and I stopped at the local Wawa for some food. If you don't know Josh, you don't know he's wheelchair bound and how much of a pain in the ass it is for him to consistently take it apart, and then put it back together.

I wasn't going to make him put his chair together, but I did ask a few questions before entering the Wawa in my scantily clad state: 1. Should I be worried about anyone in here? 2. Will I get cited for public indecency? To which he replied, "no, but I might."

I went into the Wawa, ordered our food without much incident when I was heading to the cashier to pay hoping my food would be ready relatively shortly after the whole paying thing when I heard "Ma'am! Excuse me! Ma'am!"

I turned around to find myself face-to-face with a man.

"Is that a lobster you have there?"

"No it's a scorpion"

I continued making my way to the cash register. I paid and went back to wait for our food.

"You don't like black guys do you?"

All I could do was stare like a deer in headlights, and attempt not to laugh out loud.

"That's okay, because black guys like you."

"That's good."

"If you did, I'd make you my girlfriend and be kissing you all the time. I love to kiss."

"I'm really sorry, but I have a boyfriend," I said with a face.

"Oh you do?"

I nodded.

"Do you guys kiss a lot?"

"Yeaaah"

"You think I'm drunk don't you?"

"Yes I think you've had too much to drink"

He replied something about still meaning what he said and left. All the Wawa guys making sandwiches had to say? "Wow he was REALLY into you." And then I informed them of my ass kicking abilities.

Of all the irony it has to remind me of the White Chicks scene with the black guy and the undercover black guy dressed as a white woman. A little too much de ja vu for me.

Who Does That?

Friday night was a long one. I was home briefly before heading out to work out and finally making it to Philly around 10 p.m. to pick up Josh for Dave's Bday Bash at 210.

I called KB on my way...

"Whatcha doin?"

"Nothing, why?"

"Just a question for you...how do you get to 210?"

He gave me the directions, and I slyly informed him he should come see me that night in my scantily clad state.

"And where would I do that?"

"At 210"

"Uh huh"

"Oh and you should totally bring the camera if you come out"

"Oh I was planning on it...ya know if I decide to come out..."

We almost made it without incident but Josh had me talking, and not paying attention to the exits, so we missed ours. We got off at the next one, got turned around and went to get back on 42 when I spotted something familiar: the tattoo parlor. "I know where I am!" I didn't peel out, nor was it as dramatic as Josh made it seem. After all it was a good 11:30 p.m.

KB was already there when we got there, and we talked for a bit before heading downstairs to watch games of Beer Pong, and "You're Gonna Get IT!" when in walked this girl that is the cousin of one of KB's friends. She's always kind of liked KB who quite simply isn't interested. Josh calls this marking my territory. I call it being myself. Yeah I'd put my head on him, or we'd try to discreetly hold hands, but everyone knows we're still sweet on each other.

But the best part was when we were sitting on the couch and she sat on the arm closest to me. And stared. And stared. And stared. And stared some more until I thought there would be a big gaping hole in me. I was good and didn't say a word.

Finally Larry got there and asked us, "So are you guys together?"

KB nodded his head No.

"Oh so you're just friends?"

KB nodded yes.

"Larry who does that?" I asked

"Me, so I'd know..."

I won

Last night Dom (KB's friend) and I got into a bit of an altercation. You know when his VERY drunk ass tried to kiss KB. I'll be the first to admit that I'm the jealous type, but I've toned it down dramatically. But Dom trying to kiss KB is not something I want to see.

He thought planning a sneak attack would work. KB was literally sitting on the couch with his hand covering his mouth as I tried with all my might to rip Dom off of him. He has the bruise on his arm to show for it.

I have a bruise on my leg, but no one can definitively confirm or deny that it was a result of Dom.

So as far as I'm concerned he got the worst of it. Oh...and I won. You know because instead of throwing me horizontally across the coffee table he just gave up. And whined like a little girl.

Miserable for a while

Last night I had a dream that I was explaining to myself that Dean changed his number. And that when I call the old number I get a message.

Only this time when I called the number I got some weird salesman who didn't know Dean, but he did know my boss. And he knew I was looking for another job.

I woke up after that. My guess is my subconscious is really getting to me.

I know I'm leaving my job, but I feel terrible. I'm like well when should I leave? For what type of job should I leave? How much notice should I give?

Just remember, by the time I leave anything, I've really been miserable for a while.

All Over It...

The last time KB and I REALLY talked, we were driving to 210 to do our radio show. You know the one that all of our listeners (which was really composed of Josh) didn't get to hear most of. Apparently as radio hosts, we're a really good team.

I was explaining that I had someone I thought would be perfect for Dom (not the previously blogged about one). She's tall, blonde, leggy, and because she's my friend I'll say it- she's hot.

I forget his exact words, but he asked me why I wasn't offerring to fix him up.

"3 reasons," I replied.

"......"

"1. Friends don't do that to one another. We don't date someone that the friend has dated, liked, or likes."

"Unless they say okay"

"Yeah and I'm not giving the okay"

"2. You don't get to move on before I do"

"........"

"3. If you do move on before I do, I am most certainly not going to help you do so."

"But I offerred you Dom!"

"You offerred me Dom when we were still together, so that's doesn't count"

I didn't tell him that I'm comfortable like this. It's like having a boyfriend without all the responsibilities of having a boyfriend.

And maybe there's a small, selfish part of me that hopes things work out because if they don't then I REALLY have to throw myself into this world of dating, instead of easing into it like one would ease into a hot bath.

And if we wanted the same things, I'd be all over it.

Mixed Signals...

"That was the best 10 minutes...EVER"

I had just walked through the door of Josh's apartment (well his fiancee had just let me in, and never missing a beat Josh was informing me of his unbridled enthusiasm for our radio show...prior to the little mishap that was technical difficulties.

Much to my disappointment he didn't hear half of the radio conversation! Sorry KB, we kicked out towards the end of 'Crazy Bitch'. Which is perhaps good, as I was completely unprepared with material beyond that point. And you know what happens when I run out of material. ;) I'd have to tell the "Dr. Feel Good Story" and we ALL know who wants to hear about that!

But perhaps the best part of my day yesterday was heading down to a bar on Harbison Ave to meet up with Dominic who was bartending. Not to packed on the inside, and decently looking on the outside Stevenson's was a sight to behold!

The bar is about 3 feet from the door, so literally getting not three-feet into the door we made eye contact, and I could tell by the look on his face, despite threats to not reveal my identity until after I left, he knew exactly who I was. And that look alone certainly made the trip worth it.

I had already sat down when he came around to give me a hug. Dom's cute in a Mike Quackenbush sort of way. (I swear if the two were walking down the street side by side you'd think you were seeing double).

The guy sitting next to me kept asking if Dom was my boyfriend. At first I was a smart ass and said, "Not Yet!" and laughed right as Dom was walking by to give me a funny look...

"Right?" I yelled

"What?"

"Just say yes"

"Yes, not that I know what that was about"

"He asked if you were my boyfriend, I said not yet"

"haha good one!"

"....."

When the bar calmed down and everyone was taken care of he made sure to come back down and talk to me. I showed him my tattoo to which he told me "that's a sign!", he ran his hand across my back when he was walking by, and he hugged me three times before I left.

And he even texted me that night like he said he would. Is there any interest? No idea. (As Josh said, 'Wow that's a lot of good mixed signals)

Perhaps the strangest thing that happened was a two-car accident right in front of me. I was standing on the sidewalk trying to get reception to talk to my mother who was rambling on about something. I wasn't watching the road and all I heard was a loud "BOOM!"

Dom came flying out of the bar to find out what happened, asked me if I was okay etc. I just nodded.

The one guy climbed out of his car screaming at the other guy, and his passenger was bleeding from her head. Thankfully 9-1-1 was there in no time, and the girl will be fine, but take a lesson, and wear your seatbelts kiddies!

Getting Home

I'm moody this morning and it's all the construction people's fault.

Last night I fought insurmountable traffic to Jersey where I got to be a radio cohost for all of...10 minutes. But in those 10 minutes 2 good songs were played, and a bit of banter was exchanged. Due to technical difficulties we had to unvoluntarily sign off early. Talk of setting up an alternate location for radio shows kept us from getting too down about our sour luck.

We left the studio about 9:30 p.m. and returned to KB's. With nothing to do, and me having to be at work this morning, I got gas and headed home. Only I discovered that I couldn't get home.

Granted, I'm not known for my patience and sitting in hours of non-moving traffic at 11:00 p.m. at night, so I impulsively decided to take a tour of 30th street station exit, which I've never done before. Most exits in PA are simple. You go straight to get back on the highway you were just on and you make a left to turn around and go the opposite direction. One small problem: some one-way streets don't allow for left turns.

The city is really good about posting signs, however they are not always good as to posting follow-up signs to reassure you that you continue going the right way!

Anyways long story short, I made my way back to South Philly where threats of construction on 95 did not keep me from getting home!

Needy

I recently wrote an ad on Craigslist (it has since been deleted, so don't look for it), when "J" more or less sealed his own fate, about finding someone to just hang out with- to go to the movies, or the beach, or out to eat or whatever. Nothing serious.

Much to my delight, a ton of responses poured in! A couple were crude (a bi-couple looking for a third etc.) in which I automatically hit the "delete" button. But for the most part it was regular Joe's looking for someone to hang out with.

As I began talking to people though, I began to realize that certain people were highly demanding and needed more attention than I could provide, and I once again hit "delete".

On Sunday I accidentally stood someone up. Until he e-mailed me MONDAY MORNING I didn't even remember I did it. Granted, I was in Jersey Saturday into Sunday, but I was home by the time said meeting should have taken place.

Naturally his e-mail was none too nice. Mine however was apologetic, "OMG, I'm so sorry, I completely forgot." What else can I say? I forgot. I'm sorry.

His reply was nasty, to include "Well where do we go from here?" and "Since I wasn't important enough to remember."

My reply was a bit edgier: "First off drop the attitude because I never MEAN to stand anyone up. I'm sorry we didn't exchange phone numbers before the meeting so you could've CALLED me. I said I was sorry, and that's the best I can do."

Of course he's been in check ever since.

I've had this other guy e-mail me, whom I was supposed to meet on Saturday evening but canceled because he was being a dick.

I get an e-mail this morning: "I want to know why you replied to me twice when you clearly weren't interested?"

My reply: Jim quite frankly I have been EXTREMELY busy and unable to reply. If you are unable to deal with having to wait for response times from me then perhaps I am not for you, but you should not assume anything about me without asking me first.

If I wasn't interested initially, I wouldn't have replied. But clearly you need someone who works more on your time frame, and not the other way around.

Best of luck in your future endeavors, and please do not e-mail me anymore.

If someone's ad says their wickedly busy, assume their wickedly busy! If you love someone's sense of adventure don't complain when they're out pulling stupid stunts. It's a give and take.

Life was so much simplier when I was needy... oh wait, that was never.

Wrestling terminology

"What did you want to be when you grew up?"

I was sitting at Josh's house, making idle conversation as we already covered all the important bases: his engagement, KB, my current health status, work and the like. And then I realized, in the near 4 years we've known each other, I have witnessed him switch careers like I switch underwear (um...regularly), yet I never knew what he aspired to be when he was a kid.

He ran through his list, including being a therapist, and lawyer, and then imposed the all important question: What did I want to be?

"A Vet."

"....That's it?"

"Yup."

"Wow you just gave up on that a few years ago."

"Yup."

"Frankly you could've had a GPA of 4.0, all the teacher recommendations in the world, and you still wouldn't have had a guarantee of getting in. And then what would I have done for the rest of my life?"

He laughed and said "Be a Vet-Tech."

Sorry, my days of crappy hours, overtime, and low-paying jobs are OV-ER. And not in the wrestling sense of the term either.

Not a Sign...

Frequently in my travels, on my way to wherever (meet the girls, workout, etc.) I pass this little flower shop that has a small Billboard type structure, which allows you to change the letters.

Part of their gimmick is to pick a name and say "If your name is...stop in for a free rose."

When I first started driving by there, I was really excited waiting for my name to appear. They hoovered in the "A" and "B" names, mostly women names for a while and then completely skipped "C"!

Much to my dismay they stopped doing it for a bit...

When I drove by the first time, the sign was reposted and the first name was "Michelle" no big deal. The second time I drove by the name was "Kevin" and I had to laugh out loud to myself.

Well either God has a twisted sense of humor or someone is trying to tell me something because when I drove by yesterday, the name was "Cheryl" and it was even spelled correctly.

I damn near fell over while screaming "THAT IS NOT A SIGN!"

Now watch me go in today to collect my free rose, and the name be changed already.

Limited Hours

Another episode brought you by...

In all seriousness, I sat in my car last night, and just cried, really hard. I wish I could say it was from a really tough workout, it was really just a tough day. Life needs to take it easy on me for awhile. Really, my body was doing so well. It can't afford to be drowned in the sea of chocolate chip cookie dough, brownies and the like. But sometimes as much as we tell ourselves that we won't give stupid boys more than one day of mourning, stupid boys that we never should have had feelings for, we need more than one day. And that's only fair.

But since I refuse to let anything be completely about him anymore:

I had headed to Ozz's for our usual workout night. Which was good because I had gone out drinking the night before, eaten badly that day, and was feeling pretty pissy all around.

But before I could, I had to track down my little brother to go stay with our grandfather who was feeling lightheaded. Lately he's been moody as well which only adds to my stress. I get a sarcastic remark for everything, which in turn pisses me off and makes me snap. "You need a bigger pan" or "You don't know what you're missing" which very well MAY be true, but why do you have to say it?

The warm-up is much to my enjoyment, it's a comfortable pace that allows me to read a good book. But after 10 minutes the fun is over, and then there's what is supposed to be 20 minutes of exercise. I usually forget, get excited and slow down for cool down and only do 10 of each. I tell myself I'm working my way up there.

I've been seriously concentrating on breathing correctly, but the treadmill is in such a position that I can hear the TV, but not see it. And I need visuals to keep myself from realizing I'm running. I did the same as last time .3 of a mile (running), and literally had to STOP for a few seconds when it was over!

Of course when I was done Ozzwald (my nickname for him) rented a movie for us to watch, but I had to leave. Blame Target for their limited hours! :(

Weekends

I'm convinced that I need to spend my entire weekend in an unconscious state, and then save it up for the week when I need an extra "boost" of energy to get me through. And you know time to move faster during the weeks.

Last weekend was not particularly grueling, but I did have my fair share of activities....

Saturday was spent initially at stuffy party, with all of cooped up in one room after a few botched attempts to teach people who "make their own drinks" the proper amount of alcohol that SHOULD be in any given drink. Why? The point is not to taste the alcohol, nor is it to become so seasoned that you need to add more to know it's there. One drink (or a whiff) should not knock you on your ass. Seriously.

Even promises of hot guys didn't keep me rooted to my seat! Even my grandfather who doesn't get out of the house much was ready to leave by 7 p.m.!

Perhaps the worst part was the party was scheduled to begin at 4 p.m. and we arrived slightly early with my more direct form of driving (highways). The food wasn't ready, and wouldn't be for another 45 minutes. That really irked me.

When I finally arrived home I headed to Josh's where I discovered, much to my dismay, the choc. chips had melted, he had no brown sugar, or baking soda. So the first batch of flour, crisco, egg, and granulated sugar got thrown in the trash when Katie offerred to run to the store to grab new supplies.

Josh being the weirdo that he is sat there eating the uncooked batter out of the trash. I'll agree, it was on top...but eew.

Had I not burnt the cookies the second time around (they weren't burnt just a bit too done), they would've been fine. And that was with me sitting on the kitchen floor watching them like a nervous mother! As Josh says, "So I'm about to eat your kids?"

Sunday was equally productive, but more fun. I headed to Jersey to hang out with KB, and I actually remembered the silhouettes of the two of us. His mother, completely estatic, immediately ran and grabbed a frame. I'm flattered, really. ;)

We watched a horrible movie, The Messengers with Dylan McDermott and some other chick I've seen but don't recognize her name, and never one to pass up an opportunity for food, we had burgers on the grill (yum!), and some sweet corn. Which of course led to a discussion about how one eats their corn...like a typewriter (and if you're KB's dad you zing when you get to the end), or on a twirl.

Before heading home we engaged in a game of monopoly. Any game-from bowling to cards to board games is dangerous in this house if Steph is playing. She launched a full-out assault on Lou for taking the property she wanted...or something!

All's well that ends well, and it ended with a very sweet kiss. ;)

No Food or Drink...

I am torn about blogging again. I mean after all, I haven't even told you about my weekend yet! But this is too funny not to share:

I am meeting this guy I informally met on Craigslist. We were supposed to meet up last night, but somehow he ended up babysitting and had to cancel. Which was fine, I took EXTRA long in my workout.

He said he would meet me at 5:30 at any bar in Collegeville. So I 411.comed bars in Collegeville to try and find something that wasn't a dive.

To my delight, I found a TGI Fridays, and mapquested the address. I knew exactly where it was taking me.

Leave it to Bek to burst my bubble...there's no TGI Fridays out there, as revealed on their website!

So I sent a quick e-mail DO NOT GO TO TGI FRIDAYS IN "COLLEGEVILLE"! I explained the situation, and said unless he wanted to eat in a field...we should reconsider.

Or as Bek mentioned, unless we're "milking the cow before killing it...there won't be any food or drink."

All's Well That Ends Well

But before any good ending is a dramatic climax!

He began nagging me to get the car, but we needed to change over the title. Despite "B"'s warning, and my apprehension, I began to proceed with the process. I did some research and found out that you need insurance on the car before the title can change hands. I made arrangements to meet him on a Wednesday night at his company's location and he would give me the keys. He insisted that he would "have" to ride along, to find the appropriate information. The more I found out about this car, the less I felt comfortable with the price. (For example it was a '92 and the rear windows didn't work).

I skipped the extended-workout with my friend, Ozz to be able to meet him. When I arrived, I called him to find-out that he was not at that specified location. He had me wait 10 minutes for him to not walk around to the passenger side, and give me hell for not being able to anticipate it. He then informed me that he was indeed not going, as he had "too many things to do". I smiled, said "ok" and left.

I decided on the way home that I would follow KB's advice and continue on with life as if he didn't exist. I got stupid little texts from him that I had other people read and delete for me. When they did eventually tell me what they said, I laughed.

Sunday I was at KB's and we had a delightful afternoon (more about that later), and I was on my home on 476 when I got a call from a restricted number. If it's ever the first time you call me, you get voicemail. Period. But I had been talking to someone earlier in the day who commented, "Why don't you block your number and call me?" I had to laugh at the irony.

As soon as I answered the phone and he asked for me, I knew it was him. He identified himself immediately to which I said hey with a heavy easiness that definitely showed in my voice. He said, "So let me guess you're not taking the car?" I answered him honestly, "No". He replied, "Why because you're being a cunt?" I hung up.

He called back, and I didn't answer. In fact he probably called me about 5 times that night, 3 e-mails and quite a few text messages. I didn't answer any of it. I did read the text messages and the e-mails, three total containing threatening messages. Then he had the girl whom he was threatening my life with, call me. I didn't answer that call either.

My friend Josh knows the girl on a somewhat professional level and e-mailed her on my behalf. She replied that she wasn't calling to threaten me, that she simply wanted to make arrangements to get the money I owed to J as a refund from our trip. He explained that "J" had e-mailed me with specific instructions, and I forwarded the receipt to her.

I included a nice little message with why he would need transportation and hotel arrangements (everything was in my name, and I canceled it), and his flight information. It was all very....adult.

Just when I thought it was over, I get a somewhat frantic call from Josh saying that "J" had provided the wrong account number. I said I would do my best to cancel the transfer, but if it had already taken place, this was definitely not my problem. Luckily all was well. The irony of it was that he was holding the rented DVD's over MY head until the money situation was corrected. It's like WAIT YOU'RE HOLDING COLLATERAL OVER MY HEAD FOR YOUR MISTAKE? I guess that's how he operates.

As for now, it's over, and the reality of my decision is setting in. While I know it was the right decision, it's going to take some time to get over the hurt and the anger. After all, your first love is never really over.

I accept that I did my best for him, and he let me down in a lot of ways. The knowledge I will take out of this experience is priceless and for that I'm grateful.

The Nightmare is Finally Over...

Last night I had a nightmare that I was stuck in some strange house with about 5 other people, and I kept getting a phone call from whatever was in the house. Only, the phone calls never said anything, it was just loud static and heavy breathing. For the first two phone calls, we stopped whatever it was we were doing when the calls came in. But by the third phone call I was fed up. I can only imagine how my subconscious has dealt with the past 2 and 1/2 years.

Rewind about a month, and you have J and myself sitting at a red light a couple of blocks from his apartment. He's talking about how he's going to sell his car, and what he'll do with the money. I managed to blurt out how that was cool because I was also looking into getting a new car. He asked me if I wanted the car, that he'd even sell it to me for less than the asking price. I agreed to think about it.

Fast-forward a bit to when I had told him I would take the car, and had said in no uncertain terms that, "I may not always be able to give you a lot, but I will always give you something," in regards to payment on the car. After all I didn't have $3,000 to shell out for ANY car.

Slowly payments turned into investments. That is, he wanted deejaying equipment to begin deejaying again. So I said okay. On one particular night, he wanted me to shell out $600 for part of the deal. I told him I didn't have $600 at my disposal. He asked me why I was being difficult. I wasn't trying to be! We had just collectively planned an $800 trip at the end of September, and when you book it through the package they charge your credit card NOW as opposed to when you check in. So while he had given me his half, I didn't have mine, let alone an additional $600. He reminded me that $600 is not a bad down payment on a $3,000 car. Short of throwing the phone into the field across the street (not that far given that I was sitting in the road) he finally accepted that it was not gonna happen. I agreed to give $200 Tuesday (that was scheduled for the credit card) as a down payment, but he decided he could wait till we returned from our trip.

Fast-forward a bit more to when we were supposed to hang out. I won't lie, my friend "B" told me not to take the car, it sounded like a bad investment and we devised a plan for an easy escape should I get into an altercation with him. I skipped my regularly scheduled workout and showed up early which pissed him off royally. Apparently I was somehow supposed to know that his roommate would be home between 8-8:45. It was 7 when I picked him up, and of course all finances were limited, so I didn't have any money to pay for dinner, Blockbuster or the like. Not to mention that I HAD eaten (I lied about WHAT) before I left the house. Hey, when you're poor, you don't eat out.

He started on me about everything from the Diet Coke I had in his car (it HAD to be the one from his house the week before), to everything else. I did my best to appease him the way I used to appease my mother when she was pissy. By the time we left the restaurant (I didn't order), we had narrowly missed his roommate being home, and we went into the apartment to watch Zodiac. Perhaps I was PMSing, perhaps I was overly sensitive, or perhaps I knew this was coming to blows. I got up and walked out on a movie I was INTERESTED IN.

I cried alot on the drive home as I knew it was the end, and it was really going to hurt. A phone call from him telling me I hurt HIS feelings stopped me in my tracks. He also said he was just "busting my balls" and I shoudn't have taken things so personally. I explained that he was being vicious and perhaps he didn't know how sensitive I truly was.

Doubts

If I had any lingering doubts...they were squashed quickly last night. If you had my new number, I had to change it again for reasons that until this is entirely settled I'm not sure I'm at liberty to comment on.

Suffice to say it involves unncessary drama, and threats, e-mails (apparently when one goes off the deep end and can't text, they resume e-mailing), text messages, phone calls and since we're three, name-calling.

Soon I'm going to write a book: "The Psychos Who Have Changed My Life Forever".

But for the record, as if I'd be stupid enough not to get to my family before you did. Duh.

Worth the effort

I can tell when I'm stressed...

I get really tired, like when you're exhausted after staying up all night, regardless of how much sleep I've had, and even the most mundane tasks become a challenge. Like the date. Writing simple letters.

And then comes the nausea. And worse yet, the chest pains.

I have wrestled with this decision (no pun intended) about 100 times over. But I'm a sucker for apologies, and great at forgiving. But I should never technically "leave" anything when I'm pissed. Because eventually the anger subsides and I'm left with doubt.

And then I go back to the vicious cycle all over again.

This time I'm not pissed, but I'm nervous. I'm nervous about making a mistake, about putting myself first, and about the future. At least here I knew what to expect, I just didn't like it.

So if you're my friend, please lie to me. Tell me that he was an ass, and HE messed up. Don't tell me the truth that he didn't value me enough to care about me, my feelings or well-being. And most importantly, please don't tell me that I wasn't worth the effort.

16 minutes

I'm comvinced my friend Ozz has become a do-gooder. I mean I know he's a sucker for a pretty face, and he'd give you the shirt off his back-literally, but last night I found a new sort of respect for him.

On Monday, Wednesdays, and Fridays we literally work out tails off in the form of the treadmill and other various exercises. Undoubtedly it's paying off.

So when he called me yesterday afternoon to inform me that we'd have company, I was estatic! After all, misery....loves....company.

His adopted-cousin is trying out for the hockey team, and one of the conditions is they have to be able to run 2 miles, and here's the kicker...in 16 minutes.

I'll be 100% honest with you, none of us are of the athletic variety. Ozz loves working out, I hate it, and Becky, well I can't say for sure since she is going out for hockey.

That being said, I've done a mile in 16 minutes, which compared to where I had started was fantabulous. Now anything under 20 to me is good. (I've started running, and I'm working REALLY hard to increase my endurance in that regard). I'm so damn easy to please.

So in addition to each doing 20 minutes of warm-up, they headed to the track. Now either Upper Perk has a smaller track than my former high school, or they've changed how long it takes to run a mile. Because according to Becky, 4 times around is the equivalent of one mile.

I narrowly managed to escape on having previously designated plans, and grabbed a quick shower, stealing one of Ozz's t-shirts. I really need to keep some clothes at this boy's place if I'm going to sweat my week out!

The run is going to be next weekend so tomorrow, Monday, Wednesday and Friday will all be spent at the track. Who knows, maybe by the time next weekend rolls around we might all be running 2 miles.

Rock Out

If you wanted to buy me a present, I totally wouldn't be opposed to that. What I have my eye on now:

2 karaoke CD's courtesy of karaoke.com:

One being "Red High Heels" by Kelli Pickler, and the other being "Tear Drops on My Guitar" by Taylor Hicks.

I don't even have the 17.99 to shell out for it.

But if it showed up on my doorstep, I'd never say a word just silently smile and then go rock out.

Hypocritical

Make no mistake about it, I'm no angel that "spends all winter bringing the homeless blankets and dinner," but ever since I was young my mother has gone out of her way to make Christmas positively spectacular.

I've never seen someone buy so many gifts for people, that aren't even her immediate family!

Once particular tradition was to always go to Boscov's and pick some kid off the tree and spent a good $20-30 on presents for them. The child wouldn't have had a Christmas otherwise, and let's face it giving back is three-fold, not to mention mutually beneficial.

A few months ago when I was still bartending, one of my customers told me that his family had gotten to the point, much like mine, where everyone was getting increasingly harder to buy for. So they would contact th Salvation Army, ask for their largest family, and buy for them. They would still meet Christmas Day for coffee and conversation. But the focus was always on the kids.

For years we have been struggling as to what to buy our grandparents. With 3 kids, and 5 grandkids, it gets pretty tough. Not to mention that now we're all of the age that if we want something, we go buy it.

So I sent around an e-mail to my cousins suggesting that we should genuinely do this, get a family from the Salvation Army and give back a little. Especially to the kids who won't have a Christmas otherwise.

Do you know what the response was?

I'd rather do a Polyana. People won't be inclined to spend as much on a family they don't know. I'm planning a wedding.

THIS KID WON'T HAVE A CHRISTMAS FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!

Yet these are the same people who will e-mail me sob stories of some guy who is struggling, about to be fired and has cancer and needs donations, or of her property who had a lot of elderly people that is finally putting out a newsletter to offset the costs of basically everything, or a fundraiser for an office party.

Sometimes people just infuriate me.....