In light of my recent inability to play pool, I had plans to meet up with Antares last night, and found out that he's quite a talented pool player!
We headed to a small, hole-in-the-wall biker bar in Raleigh where I learned the Science behind pool. And more than, "it's all angles! Like Geometry!" Well I sucked at Geometry, so there has to be a better explanation!
We're planning to head back for karaoke night on Wed (since Thursday is the holiday) and I want to be able to show off my new skills! I hope I don't forget!
That was by far not the best part of the night though. We had planned to meet up at 4:30 which was perfect with everything I needed to do around the house.
I left my house at 3:30 for the 55 minute drive. Instead though, it took me well over 60 minutes to go what should have taken 15! Stupid basketball game.
[If you're squeamish skip over the rest of the blog]
I had dressed the part in a sexy red dress, strapless red bra, and white thong. I had silver hoop earings adorning my ears, and stilettos adorning my feet. When I finally got to Antares house, I can only imagine what his neighbors must have thought.
I ran the bell and waited. And waited....And when I still got no answer, I finally pushed open the door to find him lounging on the couch. "Open your door!" I exclaimed excitedly. As it turns out, the bell was broken unbeknownst to both of us.
The excitement of my little Breaking and Entering was soon forgotten as his eyes adjusted on my outfit.
I believe his exact words were, "You know I'm going to bend you over the bed, right?"
Yes, please.
The rest of the details aren't important. The sex is usually good, but this was phenomenal. All in all we made love 3 times that night.
And then the boy kicked me out of bed for coffee before 8 a.m. this morning. After pancakes and too serious of conversation I was out. And on with life.
And I'm ignoring these twangs of feeling.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Friday, November 21, 2008
Karaoke Night Makes for Ugly Mornings
Last night Melissa and I headed out to the same bar where we were approached by Mr. T and I was told that I was unapproachable.
Once again, we repeated the process of driving to my apartment, this time to allow me to change and to grab an overnight bag. This time though we didn't hit ridiculous amounts of traffic, and were in and out in a lickedy split.
We headed to Regazzi's, a small Italian restaurant that looks small and intimate with unlimited bread and salad/soup with your entree. The food was phenomenal!
Next we headed to Melissa's house--way out in the boonies--where she showered, changed, and set me up with a movie involving Pacey from Dawson's Creek.
When she was finally ready to go, we headed out for karaoke.
I wish I could say that we, "screamed and laughed when I got up and sang," but I didn't sing. Instead, I spent most of the night dancing, laughing, and playing ridiculously bad pool.
They introduced me to their friend Eric whom was frankly too busy playing with his phone to be interested in saying hello much less more of a conversation, and so my approach to him was to ignore him all night.
When I finally did get approached it was by a guy that had been hanging around our table, and happened to know a mutual friend. He mentioned how he and his wife used to do karaoke all the time, but now not so much. I wasn't disappointed, I knew he was married...after all, he wore a ring. Naturally, my next question was, "How long have you been married?"
He continued to explain that he was 30, had been married about 10 years, and that his wife recently left. Apparently about 5 years ago she decided they were done, and became pregnant by another man. She then came home, and they got back together. It's not his biological daughter, but it's his name on her birth certificate, and he loves her all the same. She left a few months ago, and he says he's done fighting for his marriage because if he convinces her to stay, how long will she stay that way? It has to be her decision to make their marriage work.
In the end we didn't get to talk much, and it was all screaming over the music directly to our right. I gave him my number before I walked out, "in case he wanted to talk more" with bets that he wouldn't call.
As it turned out he did--twice in the same night. In the first instance, I was dreaming and couldn't figure out what the noise was. However the most annoying sound in the world is the only thing my phone makers could come up with for missed texts/calls. And THAT woke me up. About 30 minutes from the previous call, he called again.
I told him of how we took bets on whether or not he was going to call (Melissa won that one), and in his soft spoken nature, he continued to apologize and tell me that he didn't realize I had to be at work so early. After all, it was 2:30 a.m. He let me go, and I promised to call him back.
Morning came all too soon, and the option to call out was tempting. Unfortunately I don't allow myself to call out for my own stupidity. So Melissa and I dragged our asses out for a full day of work.
All that came next was a lunch time phone call to him, and sleep. Lots, and lots of sleep.
Once again, we repeated the process of driving to my apartment, this time to allow me to change and to grab an overnight bag. This time though we didn't hit ridiculous amounts of traffic, and were in and out in a lickedy split.
We headed to Regazzi's, a small Italian restaurant that looks small and intimate with unlimited bread and salad/soup with your entree. The food was phenomenal!
Next we headed to Melissa's house--way out in the boonies--where she showered, changed, and set me up with a movie involving Pacey from Dawson's Creek.
When she was finally ready to go, we headed out for karaoke.
I wish I could say that we, "screamed and laughed when I got up and sang," but I didn't sing. Instead, I spent most of the night dancing, laughing, and playing ridiculously bad pool.
They introduced me to their friend Eric whom was frankly too busy playing with his phone to be interested in saying hello much less more of a conversation, and so my approach to him was to ignore him all night.
When I finally did get approached it was by a guy that had been hanging around our table, and happened to know a mutual friend. He mentioned how he and his wife used to do karaoke all the time, but now not so much. I wasn't disappointed, I knew he was married...after all, he wore a ring. Naturally, my next question was, "How long have you been married?"
He continued to explain that he was 30, had been married about 10 years, and that his wife recently left. Apparently about 5 years ago she decided they were done, and became pregnant by another man. She then came home, and they got back together. It's not his biological daughter, but it's his name on her birth certificate, and he loves her all the same. She left a few months ago, and he says he's done fighting for his marriage because if he convinces her to stay, how long will she stay that way? It has to be her decision to make their marriage work.
In the end we didn't get to talk much, and it was all screaming over the music directly to our right. I gave him my number before I walked out, "in case he wanted to talk more" with bets that he wouldn't call.
As it turned out he did--twice in the same night. In the first instance, I was dreaming and couldn't figure out what the noise was. However the most annoying sound in the world is the only thing my phone makers could come up with for missed texts/calls. And THAT woke me up. About 30 minutes from the previous call, he called again.
I told him of how we took bets on whether or not he was going to call (Melissa won that one), and in his soft spoken nature, he continued to apologize and tell me that he didn't realize I had to be at work so early. After all, it was 2:30 a.m. He let me go, and I promised to call him back.
Morning came all too soon, and the option to call out was tempting. Unfortunately I don't allow myself to call out for my own stupidity. So Melissa and I dragged our asses out for a full day of work.
All that came next was a lunch time phone call to him, and sleep. Lots, and lots of sleep.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Waiting for the item in the aforementioned text message
Tonight a much more upbeat text came across my phone while I was knee-deep in the movie, "The Two Mr. Kissel's".
It read, "Can you give me your address? You don't have to, but if you could just humor me...."
So I called him back. And asked, "What do you need my address for?"
He didn't tell me so I went on blind faith that whatever he is sending me is bound to be good.
And now, I wait...
It read, "Can you give me your address? You don't have to, but if you could just humor me...."
So I called him back. And asked, "What do you need my address for?"
He didn't tell me so I went on blind faith that whatever he is sending me is bound to be good.
And now, I wait...
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Motto
I'm not sure what inspired the spontaneous text from Antares, be it the fact that he already "paid" me for my company with lunch, or whether it was being unable to go shopping the day before with the kids being off school, which was quite a surprise. (And consequently also a government holiday).
At work we're scheduled to work until 8:30, even though the clinic closes at 8, but last night I spared no one, finally telling them that I HAD to go around 8:10 p.m. After all, Antares lives about 15 minutes past work, and the stores close early during the week.
I called him as I was leaving apologized profusely, and explained that I was on my way. When I got there 15 minutes later, I should've realized what kind of night it would be. He greeted me with, "Oh you didn't even have time to change...?"
No, I didn't. Nor did I think to grab street clothes. Do scrubs really make someone look less than appropriate for stores?
Of course it had less to do with me, and my wardrobe than one might imagine. Earlier in the day he had told me of a situation that went down the day before. Apparently Antares has a friend whom has kids. She needed to run some errands, and she left the kids with Antares to play with his kids while she attended to her errands. Well she got back and brough mini bagels for the kids to make pizza bagels and time flew by. Soon, it was time for Amanda to pick up the girls, and the woman and her kids were still there. Amanda flipped out and started saying how she didn't feel comfortable having the girls around the woman that he was dating and her kids. One small problem: he's not dating her.
Regardless of what I think of the entire situation (and I pretty much feel like they're both adults, and they've split. They're getting divorced. Eventually he's going to date, and she may or may not have kids. If she does, then eventually he's going to introduce his kids to her and/or her kids if she has them. Not to mention that they're both adults which means they can both make decisions about the kids and whom is considered "good people". And being split means placing that trust in the other parent to use good judgement around people that may be considered "strangers" to the other person.
Apparently when I showed up he was still reeling, and what should have been an enjoyable opportunity to shop and buy presents, turned into tears, and lots of distance between us.
When we got back to his house I refused to get in my car and leave, and we ended up hanging out. Never undestimate the power of touch and the inevitable honesty that will come with it. And by touch I mean a simple back rub. How much more comfortable it is to talk to someone when there is no eye contact involved.
He told me of how Amanda never let him buy presents, and anything he bought was never good enough, and the supposed "flaws" he has.
We talked about everything before falling asleep. Especially how his knee-jerk reactions keep him at a distance from people.
For example, when he couldn't go shopping the day before he assumed I'd be mad at him for forgetting the kids had off from school. Was I disappointed? Absolutely. But mad? Not at all.
I'm hoping our conversation at the very least served to open his eyes to seeing all the things that made her not good for him, and making the next person he chooses to be with the opposite of that.
All while not getting attached...this is my motto...
At work we're scheduled to work until 8:30, even though the clinic closes at 8, but last night I spared no one, finally telling them that I HAD to go around 8:10 p.m. After all, Antares lives about 15 minutes past work, and the stores close early during the week.
I called him as I was leaving apologized profusely, and explained that I was on my way. When I got there 15 minutes later, I should've realized what kind of night it would be. He greeted me with, "Oh you didn't even have time to change...?"
No, I didn't. Nor did I think to grab street clothes. Do scrubs really make someone look less than appropriate for stores?
Of course it had less to do with me, and my wardrobe than one might imagine. Earlier in the day he had told me of a situation that went down the day before. Apparently Antares has a friend whom has kids. She needed to run some errands, and she left the kids with Antares to play with his kids while she attended to her errands. Well she got back and brough mini bagels for the kids to make pizza bagels and time flew by. Soon, it was time for Amanda to pick up the girls, and the woman and her kids were still there. Amanda flipped out and started saying how she didn't feel comfortable having the girls around the woman that he was dating and her kids. One small problem: he's not dating her.
Regardless of what I think of the entire situation (and I pretty much feel like they're both adults, and they've split. They're getting divorced. Eventually he's going to date, and she may or may not have kids. If she does, then eventually he's going to introduce his kids to her and/or her kids if she has them. Not to mention that they're both adults which means they can both make decisions about the kids and whom is considered "good people". And being split means placing that trust in the other parent to use good judgement around people that may be considered "strangers" to the other person.
Apparently when I showed up he was still reeling, and what should have been an enjoyable opportunity to shop and buy presents, turned into tears, and lots of distance between us.
When we got back to his house I refused to get in my car and leave, and we ended up hanging out. Never undestimate the power of touch and the inevitable honesty that will come with it. And by touch I mean a simple back rub. How much more comfortable it is to talk to someone when there is no eye contact involved.
He told me of how Amanda never let him buy presents, and anything he bought was never good enough, and the supposed "flaws" he has.
We talked about everything before falling asleep. Especially how his knee-jerk reactions keep him at a distance from people.
For example, when he couldn't go shopping the day before he assumed I'd be mad at him for forgetting the kids had off from school. Was I disappointed? Absolutely. But mad? Not at all.
I'm hoping our conversation at the very least served to open his eyes to seeing all the things that made her not good for him, and making the next person he chooses to be with the opposite of that.
All while not getting attached...this is my motto...
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Getting My Groove Back
Today I've been feeling extremely guilty. What I'm doing, with Antares, always weighs on my mind. The fact of the matter is, it's not going the motions, the physical aspect of things that leave me feeling guilty, leave me reeling. It's the emotional. It's being able to see myself with Antares under other circumstances. Under any circumstances.
It's the mixed signals he gives me. I see what's happening. I see him leaning, and I'm torn between being his friend, and knowing I'll be his rebound girl. And of course there is my loyalty to Chris.
I can sit here, and attempt to justify what I'm doing to people whom can't relate. The fact of the matter is that I love Chris. And when I'm with him, I'm 100% there. I've been committed to this relationship for the last year, and I continue to be. And I will continue to be.
But I know me. And I know that if I sit on my hands for the next 3 years then not only will I have wasted 3 years, but I will also be bitter. And then all of this waiting will have been in vain. So right or wrong this is what I need to do. For my sanity, and for our future.
And I guess maybe today I got a little too caught up in the fantasy of being with Antares. After all, he's never made a move to suggest that he's interested in anything more than our casual relationship. Certainly now will be the start of that. He's asking me things like, "whether this is too casual for me", and whether Chris and I are in a relationship. And he tells me things like he's jaded about marriage, but not opposed to living with someone long-term.
So I fell smack on my face when I logged into my e-mail this morning, like every morning, to find that we wouldn't be shopping this afternoon. He had off, because of the government holiday, but neither of us stopped to think that the kids would be off.
I wrote him back a short e-mail silently cursing myself for not thinking that if he had off, and it was considered a government holiday, the kids might as well. And I cursed myself for getting my hopes, diverting from the plan.
I got an apologetic text that left me in tears. Really, when did I turn into a person that needed to plan out her whole life? To know exactly what's going to happen when? When did my life depend on a man to have something to look forward to?
I am definitely feeling that while I'm not Stella, I need to get my groove back, and get my emotions back in check.
It's the mixed signals he gives me. I see what's happening. I see him leaning, and I'm torn between being his friend, and knowing I'll be his rebound girl. And of course there is my loyalty to Chris.
I can sit here, and attempt to justify what I'm doing to people whom can't relate. The fact of the matter is that I love Chris. And when I'm with him, I'm 100% there. I've been committed to this relationship for the last year, and I continue to be. And I will continue to be.
But I know me. And I know that if I sit on my hands for the next 3 years then not only will I have wasted 3 years, but I will also be bitter. And then all of this waiting will have been in vain. So right or wrong this is what I need to do. For my sanity, and for our future.
And I guess maybe today I got a little too caught up in the fantasy of being with Antares. After all, he's never made a move to suggest that he's interested in anything more than our casual relationship. Certainly now will be the start of that. He's asking me things like, "whether this is too casual for me", and whether Chris and I are in a relationship. And he tells me things like he's jaded about marriage, but not opposed to living with someone long-term.
So I fell smack on my face when I logged into my e-mail this morning, like every morning, to find that we wouldn't be shopping this afternoon. He had off, because of the government holiday, but neither of us stopped to think that the kids would be off.
I wrote him back a short e-mail silently cursing myself for not thinking that if he had off, and it was considered a government holiday, the kids might as well. And I cursed myself for getting my hopes, diverting from the plan.
I got an apologetic text that left me in tears. Really, when did I turn into a person that needed to plan out her whole life? To know exactly what's going to happen when? When did my life depend on a man to have something to look forward to?
I am definitely feeling that while I'm not Stella, I need to get my groove back, and get my emotions back in check.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Never Underestimate the Power of Touch
Tonight I had made plans to meet up with Antares after work. Amanda, his soon-to-be ex was picking up the kids at 6, exactly at the time I was scheduled to get off work which would be perfect timing. The plan was to yet again, attempt to go Christmas shopping.
As it turned out, my doctor wasn't busy and decided to go home early. All to glad to have some time off during my 9-day work week, I happily left. I gave Antares a call to make sure we were still on, and to see if he was going to be hungry. He told me he had late lunch, and to go ahead and eat. So I head to Southpoint Mall intending to do some more of my own Christmas shopping, and ended up in Champ's eating, drinking beer, and watching a close game between the Colts and the Steelers.
We met up somewhere between the 3rd and 4th quarter, and decided to cuddle up on the couch waiting for the time to pass. As we were hanging out Jaime called and invited us over. The plan was to skip the movie, and just go over there.
When we got there, we met up with Jaime and Megan, and Megan's coworker friend, Jason. While he was upstairs, Antares made a joke that led me to say, "I think that's the gayest thing I've ever heard you say."
Not longer later, we were sitting out on their enclosed porch, drinking, talking, and everyone smoking but me, when I looked over and it occured to me that Jason was batting for the other team. So much so, that he made the fruity waiter at Olive Garden when I told Josh about Chris look like a straight-laced dude.
Sooner as opposed to later, it became obvious to me, why Jaime had desperately wanted company. Megan and Jason would talk about work, and while she usually mentions it, it's generally not the only thing she talks about. Furthermore, not having someone to understand her inside jokes there means she needs to explain the stories a bit more.
I've heard more about the term "pannus" than I ever wanted to know. (Go ahead, google it. It's not pretty). Certainly if I were entertaining the idea of becoming a nurse, especially an oncology nurse, then I would be changing careers. Between all the pannus, and the smell of female vaginas in cancer patients, I think I don't even want to add oncology to anything but my hell no list of specialties.
We cut the night shorter than we usually would. The funniest part was by far was hearing how Jason's significant other was home sick in bed. Jason, being the well-meaning significant other, was in the kitchen making chicken soup when suddenly he was there no more. And then he gets drunk with Megan, and can't go home.
The best part of the night was post-Jaime and Megan's house. We headed to bed almost immediately, for a back massage. Luckily for him, I was in a giving mood, and reciprocated. The back massage that is. We talked a lot during the process, somehow it's easier to ask tough questions when you're not able to see the person's face, but to hear their voice, and read their body language. When it was time to sleep, he stayed close--holding me the entire night--a rareity for him. For a man whom generally tells me, "Okay, I'm going to flip over," he stayed close the entire night, instead forcing me to flip over to allow my then-asleep arm to wake up.
The next morning led to our usual morning routine of romp, shower, and coffee, but with a few surprises added in. We had time to just chill before getting up, and I just allowed myself to revel in touching him. Not sexually, just normally. Never underestimate the power of touch.
Then he made me breakfast, kissed me goodbye--outside for all of the neighbors to see, and we went our respective ways to work.
And now, I can't help but feel something changed. Especially since he's asking me what it is about Chris, and whether or not we're really in a relationship.
As it turned out, my doctor wasn't busy and decided to go home early. All to glad to have some time off during my 9-day work week, I happily left. I gave Antares a call to make sure we were still on, and to see if he was going to be hungry. He told me he had late lunch, and to go ahead and eat. So I head to Southpoint Mall intending to do some more of my own Christmas shopping, and ended up in Champ's eating, drinking beer, and watching a close game between the Colts and the Steelers.
We met up somewhere between the 3rd and 4th quarter, and decided to cuddle up on the couch waiting for the time to pass. As we were hanging out Jaime called and invited us over. The plan was to skip the movie, and just go over there.
When we got there, we met up with Jaime and Megan, and Megan's coworker friend, Jason. While he was upstairs, Antares made a joke that led me to say, "I think that's the gayest thing I've ever heard you say."
Not longer later, we were sitting out on their enclosed porch, drinking, talking, and everyone smoking but me, when I looked over and it occured to me that Jason was batting for the other team. So much so, that he made the fruity waiter at Olive Garden when I told Josh about Chris look like a straight-laced dude.
Sooner as opposed to later, it became obvious to me, why Jaime had desperately wanted company. Megan and Jason would talk about work, and while she usually mentions it, it's generally not the only thing she talks about. Furthermore, not having someone to understand her inside jokes there means she needs to explain the stories a bit more.
I've heard more about the term "pannus" than I ever wanted to know. (Go ahead, google it. It's not pretty). Certainly if I were entertaining the idea of becoming a nurse, especially an oncology nurse, then I would be changing careers. Between all the pannus, and the smell of female vaginas in cancer patients, I think I don't even want to add oncology to anything but my hell no list of specialties.
We cut the night shorter than we usually would. The funniest part was by far was hearing how Jason's significant other was home sick in bed. Jason, being the well-meaning significant other, was in the kitchen making chicken soup when suddenly he was there no more. And then he gets drunk with Megan, and can't go home.
The best part of the night was post-Jaime and Megan's house. We headed to bed almost immediately, for a back massage. Luckily for him, I was in a giving mood, and reciprocated. The back massage that is. We talked a lot during the process, somehow it's easier to ask tough questions when you're not able to see the person's face, but to hear their voice, and read their body language. When it was time to sleep, he stayed close--holding me the entire night--a rareity for him. For a man whom generally tells me, "Okay, I'm going to flip over," he stayed close the entire night, instead forcing me to flip over to allow my then-asleep arm to wake up.
The next morning led to our usual morning routine of romp, shower, and coffee, but with a few surprises added in. We had time to just chill before getting up, and I just allowed myself to revel in touching him. Not sexually, just normally. Never underestimate the power of touch.
Then he made me breakfast, kissed me goodbye--outside for all of the neighbors to see, and we went our respective ways to work.
And now, I can't help but feel something changed. Especially since he's asking me what it is about Chris, and whether or not we're really in a relationship.
Friday, November 7, 2008
Not Your Typically Friday Night...
I hate being on surgery team at work with a competent doctor and an almost-empty schedule. For one thing, it almost guarantees that the doctor will want to leave early, leaving me with nothing to do in the afternoon. I'm one of those people that won't call out without paid time off, instead dragging my almost-dying ass to the car, and into work. I may need to wheel around on one of the those fancy-dancy office chairs, but dammit I'm there.
Being the go-getter that I am, I talked Trish out of staying on her team so I could work with one of my pals. Being that she started relatively shortly before me, we definitely don't get to work together as much as I'd like, but that's probably for the best.
We broke for lunch at 12:00. I waited for Antares whom I told me to surprise me food-wise in what was his attempt to repay me for a service that to this day has been foiled down to the last minute: Christmas Shopping.
Sitting with the two of them outside of work at a picnic table scarfing down chimichangas was worse than being on a bad date. They're both important to me, both friends, but as work and my personal life mess, I'm watching it like a bad train-wreck. I swear I couldn't help it, and there was nothing I could do to intervene.
A comment about it being 5:30 p.m. before we left work (which I thought was a sarcastic remark), and a quick kiss goodbye ended the whole ordeal rather too quickly. After all, towards the 30 minute mark, they were certainly making progress with complete sentences!
As it turned out though, a full afternoon kept us running around like chicken with out heads cut off. It had us dealing with difficult clients at the end of a long-day that should've ended hours before. As one of my other work friends put it, "Are you working tonight too?"
"Nohooo," I said.
"Oh."
We finally left there at 6 p.m. 2 hours past when we were supposed to leave, and only because the doctor ran from the building as her husband was going to "kill her".
I do not go out in scrubs. Some people find them terribly relaxing, but for me it's more like walking around in pajamas all day. For one thing, I feel like I can never get anything done, but for another, I certainly don't want anyone I meet to see me in them. Without them, now that's another story.
First we got caught in rush-hour traffic, which I'm usually fortunate to avoid. We finally made it to my house (a 40 min drive) an hour an 15 min later. A few minutes of playing with kitten, and a quick wardrobe change had us back on the road.
We went to a pool hall about 40 minutes past work in the other direction, near where Melissa lives. I was assuming it to be a dark, swanky place that served maybe 3-4 draft beers and never heard of mixed drinks like, "Sex on the beach". She told me they served food which I assumed to be steaks, maybe cold-cut sandwiches and the like.
So imagine my surprise when we pull into the parking lot of something the size of a TGI Fridays, and head inside. We grab a table and are greeted with Southern service. A sports bar, with a list of 42 draft beers. Some will make you laugh. Others will make you laugh so hard you cry. And some you've heard of. They have a decent size bar, and unattractive people the way a bar tends to collect them. They have a row of round tables, then two rows of booths on both sides of a short wall before 6 pool tables on display.
The menu is a lot to talk about too. Trying to pick just one thing is damn near impossible. Order two different things and split it. It's as easy as that.
Shortly after consuming food like we hadn't eaten in a week and finding our stomachs not nearly matching the strength of our hunger, we took a look around and landed on a guy I can only identify as being really good looking. He was olive-complected with dark black hair, and some nice big arm muscles. His stomach curved in nice and taut--enough to make you want to see him without his shirt. And more every time he bent over.
We inconspicuously sent a drink over there with strict instructions for the waiter not to tell the guy who it was from.
In time, we were approached by a man whom was not the one we sent the drink to. Melissa, deciding to don scrubs, attracted the man to her. He talked about his dog, and her unfortunate encounter with heartworms. He thought since we were hanging out in the area, that we worked close-by.
Eventually he invited us to shoot pool. He was playing with two other gentleman leaving me the odd-man out. I fully took that opportunity to size up the room, and the competition.
As it turned out though, Melissa is quite the pool player, and ended up taking on the two guys by herself!
The guy and I sat there talking. He told me about his son (whom is almost my age, but I guess that's what happens when you man up at 17), his divorce and why I'm not approachable in bars.
"You'll smile when someone says something funny," he says. "But it was Melissa's friendly smile that brought me over. That and my dog."
He demonstrated, putting a scowl on his face, sipping his beer, and looking around. Frankly, he looked pissed. And he knew it.
He showed me how easy it is for looks to become misinterpreted. So if you ever see me at a bar, we will inevitably make eye contact. I will probably look away, and if I'm interested, look back. Again. And I will try to add in a smile just so you know I'm not pissed off at the world.
Being the go-getter that I am, I talked Trish out of staying on her team so I could work with one of my pals. Being that she started relatively shortly before me, we definitely don't get to work together as much as I'd like, but that's probably for the best.
We broke for lunch at 12:00. I waited for Antares whom I told me to surprise me food-wise in what was his attempt to repay me for a service that to this day has been foiled down to the last minute: Christmas Shopping.
Sitting with the two of them outside of work at a picnic table scarfing down chimichangas was worse than being on a bad date. They're both important to me, both friends, but as work and my personal life mess, I'm watching it like a bad train-wreck. I swear I couldn't help it, and there was nothing I could do to intervene.
A comment about it being 5:30 p.m. before we left work (which I thought was a sarcastic remark), and a quick kiss goodbye ended the whole ordeal rather too quickly. After all, towards the 30 minute mark, they were certainly making progress with complete sentences!
As it turned out though, a full afternoon kept us running around like chicken with out heads cut off. It had us dealing with difficult clients at the end of a long-day that should've ended hours before. As one of my other work friends put it, "Are you working tonight too?"
"Nohooo," I said.
"Oh."
We finally left there at 6 p.m. 2 hours past when we were supposed to leave, and only because the doctor ran from the building as her husband was going to "kill her".
I do not go out in scrubs. Some people find them terribly relaxing, but for me it's more like walking around in pajamas all day. For one thing, I feel like I can never get anything done, but for another, I certainly don't want anyone I meet to see me in them. Without them, now that's another story.
First we got caught in rush-hour traffic, which I'm usually fortunate to avoid. We finally made it to my house (a 40 min drive) an hour an 15 min later. A few minutes of playing with kitten, and a quick wardrobe change had us back on the road.
We went to a pool hall about 40 minutes past work in the other direction, near where Melissa lives. I was assuming it to be a dark, swanky place that served maybe 3-4 draft beers and never heard of mixed drinks like, "Sex on the beach". She told me they served food which I assumed to be steaks, maybe cold-cut sandwiches and the like.
So imagine my surprise when we pull into the parking lot of something the size of a TGI Fridays, and head inside. We grab a table and are greeted with Southern service. A sports bar, with a list of 42 draft beers. Some will make you laugh. Others will make you laugh so hard you cry. And some you've heard of. They have a decent size bar, and unattractive people the way a bar tends to collect them. They have a row of round tables, then two rows of booths on both sides of a short wall before 6 pool tables on display.
The menu is a lot to talk about too. Trying to pick just one thing is damn near impossible. Order two different things and split it. It's as easy as that.
Shortly after consuming food like we hadn't eaten in a week and finding our stomachs not nearly matching the strength of our hunger, we took a look around and landed on a guy I can only identify as being really good looking. He was olive-complected with dark black hair, and some nice big arm muscles. His stomach curved in nice and taut--enough to make you want to see him without his shirt. And more every time he bent over.
We inconspicuously sent a drink over there with strict instructions for the waiter not to tell the guy who it was from.
In time, we were approached by a man whom was not the one we sent the drink to. Melissa, deciding to don scrubs, attracted the man to her. He talked about his dog, and her unfortunate encounter with heartworms. He thought since we were hanging out in the area, that we worked close-by.
Eventually he invited us to shoot pool. He was playing with two other gentleman leaving me the odd-man out. I fully took that opportunity to size up the room, and the competition.
As it turned out though, Melissa is quite the pool player, and ended up taking on the two guys by herself!
The guy and I sat there talking. He told me about his son (whom is almost my age, but I guess that's what happens when you man up at 17), his divorce and why I'm not approachable in bars.
"You'll smile when someone says something funny," he says. "But it was Melissa's friendly smile that brought me over. That and my dog."
He demonstrated, putting a scowl on his face, sipping his beer, and looking around. Frankly, he looked pissed. And he knew it.
He showed me how easy it is for looks to become misinterpreted. So if you ever see me at a bar, we will inevitably make eye contact. I will probably look away, and if I'm interested, look back. Again. And I will try to add in a smile just so you know I'm not pissed off at the world.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Peyton and Cardboard: A Post Not About a Man
What is it about cardboard that is really so exciting? This is the question that keeps running through my head as Peyton bounds about the apartment, jumping on her scratching post that is a mere piece of cardboard.
To continue to encourage her good scratching habits (i.e. not the underside of my box spring, or the carpet which I'm positive I'm so graciously providing the next tenants with indirectly via security deposits), I sprinkled some cat nip onto it, and that makes her crazier.
It makes me happy for a fleeting second when I think about how I almost came home with a more expensive version of the same thing. Cheaper is better for me, but simpler always seems to be better. A lesson in life folks.
But then I think of the kitty gymnasium I built for her (not really, it's made of plastic), and like the toy you no longer play with, I feel a little sad. And then maybe a little guilty because maybe, just maybe we won't have to have the declawing conversation again.
To continue to encourage her good scratching habits (i.e. not the underside of my box spring, or the carpet which I'm positive I'm so graciously providing the next tenants with indirectly via security deposits), I sprinkled some cat nip onto it, and that makes her crazier.
It makes me happy for a fleeting second when I think about how I almost came home with a more expensive version of the same thing. Cheaper is better for me, but simpler always seems to be better. A lesson in life folks.
But then I think of the kitty gymnasium I built for her (not really, it's made of plastic), and like the toy you no longer play with, I feel a little sad. And then maybe a little guilty because maybe, just maybe we won't have to have the declawing conversation again.
Friday, October 31, 2008
A Family Affair
With Antares being away working on the final trip of the season (meaning we can finally hang out on a weekend when the kids are with their mom), and having to work late on my favorite holiday of the year (not to mention the one yr anniversary of Chris and I), I decided to head out to a movie with a girl I consider a friend from work.
Of course we had to talk about it in front of other people in the lunchroom, which made me feel inclined to invite her, and soon there were 10 people going.
The movie itself was good given that this is the V Saw movie, and even more so that the last few have been questionable.
The company however, could have been better. I learned more about my coworkers than I wanted to know, and what should have been an enjoyable evening turned out to be a rather stressful evening with me being unable to really be myself.
I've never been so glad to see my bed before in my life.
And as I whispered to Melissa, "If we ever decide to go out again, we're definitely not going to make it a "family affair".
Of course we had to talk about it in front of other people in the lunchroom, which made me feel inclined to invite her, and soon there were 10 people going.
The movie itself was good given that this is the V Saw movie, and even more so that the last few have been questionable.
The company however, could have been better. I learned more about my coworkers than I wanted to know, and what should have been an enjoyable evening turned out to be a rather stressful evening with me being unable to really be myself.
I've never been so glad to see my bed before in my life.
And as I whispered to Melissa, "If we ever decide to go out again, we're definitely not going to make it a "family affair".
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Sex and Coffee
While it may be true that all's well that ends well, what is not true is that what starts off well ends well.
I had another date night with Antares. The plan was dinner, and to return a movie/rent a movie from Blockbuster.
What actually ended up happening was dinner (marinated chicken breast done on the grill, sauteed veggies, herb roasted potatoes and bread with a hershey pie for desert).
We ended up watching "Baby Mama" with Tina Fey, and the movie was okay. As things wound down though, we headed to bed.
He got a bit exasperated with me when I extended foreplay managing to finish, but leaving him kind of hanging. It's not that I didn't want to, I'd be doing my thing, and all of a sudden I'd be unable to keep my head in the game and I'd stop.
"Why did you stop?" he asked. "It starts feeling good, and then you stop."
I was at a loss for words. Really, so many things were running through my head at that moment, that I couldn't answer.
He continued to probe me.
"Is it hurting your mouth?"
I answered honestly-- "sometimes"
He didn't particularly appreciate that answer, and made it known by saying, "Well we wouldn't want you to do anything that hurts your mouth."
He had continually asked me if I was okay the entire evening, to which I had replied with the utmost confidence that I was.
As it turned out though, a little problem I had experienced earlier in the evening, something that may not even seem like a problem, was rearing it's ugly head, and affecting not only my night, but my libido as well.
I wish I could say that it ended well. I ended up crying, cuddled up next to the man whom I only identify myself with as being a mistress for him, and him being a sanity for me. We fell asleep and ended up sleeping further apart than any other. But, when I had offered to leave he told me point blank that he only wanted me to leave if I felt I'd be more comfortable, and sleep better. The truth was, I just wanted to reach out to Chris, but since that wasn't a possibility leaving would only serve to make me kick myself further. So I stayed.
I did eventually end up figuring out what had me down as well. My mother had sent me a care package with a small note telling me what was going on in PA. I've all but cut her out of my life since coming down to NC, and that has always been the right decision for me. However, when she goes and does something like this, it makes me feel guilty.
The next morning things were fine, and back to normal. After all, sex goes so well with coffee in the morning.
I had another date night with Antares. The plan was dinner, and to return a movie/rent a movie from Blockbuster.
What actually ended up happening was dinner (marinated chicken breast done on the grill, sauteed veggies, herb roasted potatoes and bread with a hershey pie for desert).
We ended up watching "Baby Mama" with Tina Fey, and the movie was okay. As things wound down though, we headed to bed.
He got a bit exasperated with me when I extended foreplay managing to finish, but leaving him kind of hanging. It's not that I didn't want to, I'd be doing my thing, and all of a sudden I'd be unable to keep my head in the game and I'd stop.
"Why did you stop?" he asked. "It starts feeling good, and then you stop."
I was at a loss for words. Really, so many things were running through my head at that moment, that I couldn't answer.
He continued to probe me.
"Is it hurting your mouth?"
I answered honestly-- "sometimes"
He didn't particularly appreciate that answer, and made it known by saying, "Well we wouldn't want you to do anything that hurts your mouth."
He had continually asked me if I was okay the entire evening, to which I had replied with the utmost confidence that I was.
As it turned out though, a little problem I had experienced earlier in the evening, something that may not even seem like a problem, was rearing it's ugly head, and affecting not only my night, but my libido as well.
I wish I could say that it ended well. I ended up crying, cuddled up next to the man whom I only identify myself with as being a mistress for him, and him being a sanity for me. We fell asleep and ended up sleeping further apart than any other. But, when I had offered to leave he told me point blank that he only wanted me to leave if I felt I'd be more comfortable, and sleep better. The truth was, I just wanted to reach out to Chris, but since that wasn't a possibility leaving would only serve to make me kick myself further. So I stayed.
I did eventually end up figuring out what had me down as well. My mother had sent me a care package with a small note telling me what was going on in PA. I've all but cut her out of my life since coming down to NC, and that has always been the right decision for me. However, when she goes and does something like this, it makes me feel guilty.
The next morning things were fine, and back to normal. After all, sex goes so well with coffee in the morning.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Playing with my new friends...
As things turned out, Antares volunteered to change my oil. While I couldn't necessarily wait for him to become available to do it (I was already 300 miles overdue thanks to the a-holes in Meineke), but we did manage to buy and replace the oil filter, and rip the door apart only to discover replacing the door handle was beyond our realm of capabilities.
After much standing around and being of absolutely no help whatsoever, and running the word "mistress" through my head 10,000 times, Antares asked me what I had planned for the rest of the day. As it turned out, I hadn't planned much of anything.
So we headed out to eat a rip-off (and not a good one) of Olive Garden called Johnny Corino's, and then rented a movie from Blockbuster. A stop at a coffee shop and much debate about whether using a public bathroom meant that you actually had to buy something (or not, as the case may be), Antares received a call from his best friend regarding his son's birthday party.
As he explained that he intended to stop by and see them later, they laid on the guilt-trip and after a brief trip to Target for a present, we were off.
I wish words were adequate to describe the surroundings and the people. First there was Jaime (pronounced Hi May not Jay Me) and his wife Megan. Jaime happens to be Antares best friend and 10 years Antares senior, not that you'd guess it seeing them together. Immediately, their 10 year old daughter Zoey was content to show me all about her computer game--it involves animals although the names of the particular animals the children collect escapes me at the moment.
Antares simply laughed and excused himself to the deck where I joined him a short while later after being introduced to Megan's brothers, Luke and the other who's name escapes me as well.
We sat on the deck talking with Megan's parents until dinner time, in which they had hamburgers, lettuce resembling a salad, potato chips, and finally to celebrate Noah's (Megan and Jaime's son) birthday, cake and presents.
When we finally left them around 8 o'clock, we headed back to Antares's house to watch the video we rented.
After a bit of hot and heavy making out on the couch, we headed over to Megan and Jaime's where we watched "Saving Sarah Silverman". No doubt, laughing at Megan quoting parts of the movie made an already awesome movie even better.
They're just so...awesome. I just want to wrap them up, take them home, and play with my new friends whenever I want.
After much standing around and being of absolutely no help whatsoever, and running the word "mistress" through my head 10,000 times, Antares asked me what I had planned for the rest of the day. As it turned out, I hadn't planned much of anything.
So we headed out to eat a rip-off (and not a good one) of Olive Garden called Johnny Corino's, and then rented a movie from Blockbuster. A stop at a coffee shop and much debate about whether using a public bathroom meant that you actually had to buy something (or not, as the case may be), Antares received a call from his best friend regarding his son's birthday party.
As he explained that he intended to stop by and see them later, they laid on the guilt-trip and after a brief trip to Target for a present, we were off.
I wish words were adequate to describe the surroundings and the people. First there was Jaime (pronounced Hi May not Jay Me) and his wife Megan. Jaime happens to be Antares best friend and 10 years Antares senior, not that you'd guess it seeing them together. Immediately, their 10 year old daughter Zoey was content to show me all about her computer game--it involves animals although the names of the particular animals the children collect escapes me at the moment.
Antares simply laughed and excused himself to the deck where I joined him a short while later after being introduced to Megan's brothers, Luke and the other who's name escapes me as well.
We sat on the deck talking with Megan's parents until dinner time, in which they had hamburgers, lettuce resembling a salad, potato chips, and finally to celebrate Noah's (Megan and Jaime's son) birthday, cake and presents.
When we finally left them around 8 o'clock, we headed back to Antares's house to watch the video we rented.
After a bit of hot and heavy making out on the couch, we headed over to Megan and Jaime's where we watched "Saving Sarah Silverman". No doubt, laughing at Megan quoting parts of the movie made an already awesome movie even better.
They're just so...awesome. I just want to wrap them up, take them home, and play with my new friends whenever I want.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Feels Like Waiting On A Runaway Train...
Antares and I have had our first big fight. :(
Really, it's our first fight at all.
It all started when he slept over at my apartment for the first time two nights ago. I was already nervous--I don't bring people home because 1) we're not fully furnished and 2) any ill-conceived ideas I have are certainly better played out on someone else's territory where I can leave whenever I see fit.
On top of that, having a less than welcoming roommate, and having to be extra quiet certainly didn't set a good mood--let alone provide a good night's sleep.
So the next day when he told me that he wasn't feeling particularly good, I wasn't surprised, in fact, I wasn't even skeptical...at first. I simply went into mothering mode, and offered to bring him anything he needed, and telling him to feel better when he declined.
When he then told me he still didn't feel well the following day, a night we were originally supposed to spend together, and instead told me of how he planned to first hang out with another friend and veg, and then proceeded to tell me that he instead picked up the bass from his friend and played it most of the evening instead.
I was naturally pissed! It's bad enough he didn't want to hang out with me, but it was a complete other to tell me what he did instead!
It began with a series of e-mails that went something like, "I'm sorry if I made you feel you couldn't be honest with me," and ended with a phone call that left both of us feeling short of breath, and likely at a compromise that didn't help us to understand the other.
So now I wait. I wait to see if we go forward or stop in our tracks.
Really, it's our first fight at all.
It all started when he slept over at my apartment for the first time two nights ago. I was already nervous--I don't bring people home because 1) we're not fully furnished and 2) any ill-conceived ideas I have are certainly better played out on someone else's territory where I can leave whenever I see fit.
On top of that, having a less than welcoming roommate, and having to be extra quiet certainly didn't set a good mood--let alone provide a good night's sleep.
So the next day when he told me that he wasn't feeling particularly good, I wasn't surprised, in fact, I wasn't even skeptical...at first. I simply went into mothering mode, and offered to bring him anything he needed, and telling him to feel better when he declined.
When he then told me he still didn't feel well the following day, a night we were originally supposed to spend together, and instead told me of how he planned to first hang out with another friend and veg, and then proceeded to tell me that he instead picked up the bass from his friend and played it most of the evening instead.
I was naturally pissed! It's bad enough he didn't want to hang out with me, but it was a complete other to tell me what he did instead!
It began with a series of e-mails that went something like, "I'm sorry if I made you feel you couldn't be honest with me," and ended with a phone call that left both of us feeling short of breath, and likely at a compromise that didn't help us to understand the other.
So now I wait. I wait to see if we go forward or stop in our tracks.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Really, Really Tired
I'll be the first to admit that I don't have the greatest of coping skills. So I guess I surprised myself when I went to see Chris yesterday afternoon, and started off the visit as being so nervous as to mess up the process in as many ways as possible and get a stern, "No, it is NOT her first time here" from one of the CO's at the desk, to putting on what I call my adulterous face.
It's the face you make when you know you're doing something wrong (kids do it all the time), but you're pretending you're not. For me, this meant putting a smile on my face, and pretending to feel an overwhelming sense of happiness, love, and relief at seeing someone whom has all but become a figment of my imagination when I haven't seen him in two weeks. Prison sucks.
As he walked out though, I couldn't help but break out into a great big grin! And by the end of the visit, I was close to tears at the thought of having to leave him. And I felt guilty, for being with Antares, but mostly for considering the prospect of being with anyone else. Emotionally.
So maybe it was an overwhelming sense of guilt, or too much leaving in one short week that when Antares called me that evening, and wanted to orally (as in phone sex) get-it-on, I was all too inclined to leave the emotionally wrecked me behind for a more...sexy version of myself.
Phone sex led me to throw out an invitation to come over. Why talk when we can do it? His answer was simple, he wasn't doing anything.
A short while later he was here. I locked the kitten in my room, threw a sweater over my head, and went out to meet him. We walked into my apartment without so much as saying anything to my roommate. That is, until Antares asked him, "Hey what's up?"
Mike simply rolled his eyes, and didn't say anything. Thankfully said kitten was loose, and an easy distraction.
All in all we were quiet, and asleep before Mike, whom then decided it was a good time to leave the living room he was so graciously inhabiting, and go to his room. Which happens to be directly next to mine.
It was a good night for talking too. I asked him personal questions such as whether he thought he and his wife would work things out. (They're seperated). He asked me personal questions about Jason, and about the secret stash of sex toys that I don't have.
And when morning came all too early, we did it again before quickly jumping into clothes and heading off to grab coffee before work. Of course coffee led us to get lost by UNC, but ultimately I arrived at work 10 minutes early.
And just when I thought I wouldn't hear from him again, I got a text.
"Are you as fkn tired as I am?"
I wasn't, after all my day was a non-stop go, until I sank down in that driver's seat. And then it hit me. I was tired. Really, really tired.
It's the face you make when you know you're doing something wrong (kids do it all the time), but you're pretending you're not. For me, this meant putting a smile on my face, and pretending to feel an overwhelming sense of happiness, love, and relief at seeing someone whom has all but become a figment of my imagination when I haven't seen him in two weeks. Prison sucks.
As he walked out though, I couldn't help but break out into a great big grin! And by the end of the visit, I was close to tears at the thought of having to leave him. And I felt guilty, for being with Antares, but mostly for considering the prospect of being with anyone else. Emotionally.
So maybe it was an overwhelming sense of guilt, or too much leaving in one short week that when Antares called me that evening, and wanted to orally (as in phone sex) get-it-on, I was all too inclined to leave the emotionally wrecked me behind for a more...sexy version of myself.
Phone sex led me to throw out an invitation to come over. Why talk when we can do it? His answer was simple, he wasn't doing anything.
A short while later he was here. I locked the kitten in my room, threw a sweater over my head, and went out to meet him. We walked into my apartment without so much as saying anything to my roommate. That is, until Antares asked him, "Hey what's up?"
Mike simply rolled his eyes, and didn't say anything. Thankfully said kitten was loose, and an easy distraction.
All in all we were quiet, and asleep before Mike, whom then decided it was a good time to leave the living room he was so graciously inhabiting, and go to his room. Which happens to be directly next to mine.
It was a good night for talking too. I asked him personal questions such as whether he thought he and his wife would work things out. (They're seperated). He asked me personal questions about Jason, and about the secret stash of sex toys that I don't have.
And when morning came all too early, we did it again before quickly jumping into clothes and heading off to grab coffee before work. Of course coffee led us to get lost by UNC, but ultimately I arrived at work 10 minutes early.
And just when I thought I wouldn't hear from him again, I got a text.
"Are you as fkn tired as I am?"
I wasn't, after all my day was a non-stop go, until I sank down in that driver's seat. And then it hit me. I was tired. Really, really tired.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Movie Night...
Last night was a lot of fun. After some back and forth, Antares and I decided to have dinner and a movie at his place. He would make dinner, and I would bring the movie.
So I called Blockbuster for directions, and the guy told me, "Well you go up a little hill and down a big hill,"
"Are you past campus?" I asked impatiently.
THOSE directions finally got me there.
After much running around, and being stopped to give someone directions, Steve (aka the guy whom can't give directions), slapped "Walk the Line" into my hand.
"That was teamwork" he told me.
But wanting to fully contribute to movie night, I also hit the local grocery store for beer, and snacks (popcorn, sour patch kids, raisinets, etc).
All in all, the food was better than the beer (a first for me), and while I've seen the movie 4 times now, Antares, who's never seen it, only saw about 1/4 of it.
There was debate about whether or not I would be spending the night, but like he said. It was a lot for me to come home, and prepare kitten for the night, to drive to Raleigh, to drive back to Carrboro just to drive back to Raleigh.
The other interesting part was the next morning. I usually don't tend to stick around for the whole "good morning" breakfast b.s. But as it stood, we went to sleep so late, and he had to be at work so early that I didn't really have a choice.
It was surprisingly...good. The coffee was good. The early-morning conversation similar to the one we'd had in the exact same spot on his deck the evening before was good. So good that when he went inside to grab a shower, I stayed outside sipping my coffee, and taking in the lazy rising sun.
Of course the bedroom window being directly to my left, and slightly raised gave me an awesome view of him in a towel. And it was good too.
So I called Blockbuster for directions, and the guy told me, "Well you go up a little hill and down a big hill,"
"Are you past campus?" I asked impatiently.
THOSE directions finally got me there.
After much running around, and being stopped to give someone directions, Steve (aka the guy whom can't give directions), slapped "Walk the Line" into my hand.
"That was teamwork" he told me.
But wanting to fully contribute to movie night, I also hit the local grocery store for beer, and snacks (popcorn, sour patch kids, raisinets, etc).
All in all, the food was better than the beer (a first for me), and while I've seen the movie 4 times now, Antares, who's never seen it, only saw about 1/4 of it.
There was debate about whether or not I would be spending the night, but like he said. It was a lot for me to come home, and prepare kitten for the night, to drive to Raleigh, to drive back to Carrboro just to drive back to Raleigh.
The other interesting part was the next morning. I usually don't tend to stick around for the whole "good morning" breakfast b.s. But as it stood, we went to sleep so late, and he had to be at work so early that I didn't really have a choice.
It was surprisingly...good. The coffee was good. The early-morning conversation similar to the one we'd had in the exact same spot on his deck the evening before was good. So good that when he went inside to grab a shower, I stayed outside sipping my coffee, and taking in the lazy rising sun.
Of course the bedroom window being directly to my left, and slightly raised gave me an awesome view of him in a towel. And it was good too.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Without a Watch...
For having to work the late shift (12-8:30), we sure did get up early. I honestly think my grandparents were more geared up to get on their way than I was, and that in and of itself was shocking.
We went to the only diner relatively close to here with their bizarre dishes (none of them Southern, and some of them inappropriately named) and over-pricedness for breakfast.
We sat. We talked. We ate. And then we said goodbye.
They've been gone all of what? an hour? And suddenly I realize that my watch is missing.
I have searched the car. I've called the hotel where we stayed. I even drove up there only to find that the watch is not where I know I left it, by the sink.
My grandfather's voice keeps echoing in my head.
"Cheryl, get your watch". I knew I should've retrieved it then. But I didn't, and I'd forgotten.
I've called my grandparents as my grandmother always does a final walk-through to ensure that we haven't missed anything. "Did you happen to accidentally pick up my watch?" I ask all to hopefully. But they haven't.
And now, not only am I without a vital piece of work equipment (how will I do TPRs?), I am also without the watch my grandmother gave me for my birthday last year.
We went to the only diner relatively close to here with their bizarre dishes (none of them Southern, and some of them inappropriately named) and over-pricedness for breakfast.
We sat. We talked. We ate. And then we said goodbye.
They've been gone all of what? an hour? And suddenly I realize that my watch is missing.
I have searched the car. I've called the hotel where we stayed. I even drove up there only to find that the watch is not where I know I left it, by the sink.
My grandfather's voice keeps echoing in my head.
"Cheryl, get your watch". I knew I should've retrieved it then. But I didn't, and I'd forgotten.
I've called my grandparents as my grandmother always does a final walk-through to ensure that we haven't missed anything. "Did you happen to accidentally pick up my watch?" I ask all to hopefully. But they haven't.
And now, not only am I without a vital piece of work equipment (how will I do TPRs?), I am also without the watch my grandmother gave me for my birthday last year.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Surprise Visit
As it turned out, Antares and I were not able to meet up on Tuesday, despite my wanting to see him sooner as opposed to later. In fact, a surprise visit from my grandparents left me in quite a tizzy trying to rearrange plans, and SURPRISE! think of reasons why I might have a cat in the apartment.
Don't get me wrong, I love my grandparents, but I've always had them on a need-to-know basis. And while I'd like to think I do it out of love, the truth is that I do it out of self-preservation. I want my grandparents to like me. And I want them to agree with my decisions.
So after contemplating hauling her back-and-forth between work and here (a whopping 40 min each direction, which seems like a lifetime with a crying kitten), I ultimately decided upon the lie that I was "kitten-sitting" for someone at work.
All in all, for me, their visit was remarkably un-eventful, although I did get a bed, and a dresser out of the whole deal. (Apparently their entire reason for coming). That in adittion to the bookshelf, and dresser I bought myself make this place look like a real apartment.
Tonight is their last night, and as tradition is, I am spending the night in the hotel with them. I know there will be tears tomorrow as we drive off in seperate directions, but then life can return to normal. Including, my being a kitten-mother.
Don't get me wrong, I love my grandparents, but I've always had them on a need-to-know basis. And while I'd like to think I do it out of love, the truth is that I do it out of self-preservation. I want my grandparents to like me. And I want them to agree with my decisions.
So after contemplating hauling her back-and-forth between work and here (a whopping 40 min each direction, which seems like a lifetime with a crying kitten), I ultimately decided upon the lie that I was "kitten-sitting" for someone at work.
All in all, for me, their visit was remarkably un-eventful, although I did get a bed, and a dresser out of the whole deal. (Apparently their entire reason for coming). That in adittion to the bookshelf, and dresser I bought myself make this place look like a real apartment.
Tonight is their last night, and as tradition is, I am spending the night in the hotel with them. I know there will be tears tomorrow as we drive off in seperate directions, but then life can return to normal. Including, my being a kitten-mother.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Looking Too Far...
Having to work yet-another weekend, I had off again today. So giving this information to Antares, whom normally can e-mail me all he wants during the work-day to no avail, was bound to inspire a lunch date. And inspire it did.
We have a really awesome mall (nothing compared to KOP) about 15 minutes from me. It's called Southpoint, and looks like a quaint little town with it's stores all being outside.
It also happens to have a movie theatre and a P.F. Chang's aka Fake Chinese food. It was here that we met for our lunch date--his idea.
I'm beginning to notice a pattern with Antares and our "meeting" locations. It always has excellent mood lighting.
We sat and talked, and I stared. A lot. He reminds me a lot of Joaquin Phoenix from "Walk The Line" whom I still find totally hot. And he's personable! And yet my mind has to ruin a perfectly good moment by screaming "Warning! Warning! Playing With Fire! About to get burned!
He did take me by complete surprise though when he said without thinking, "If you think I'm the whitest Mexican person (he's 1/2 white, 1/2 mexican) you've ever met, wait till you meet my mom!"
Eyes as wide as saucers people. Wide as saucers.
But it wasn't until we got outside that things got hot and heavy. He walked me to my car, and then leaned in for a kiss. And then grabbing a hold of my belt loops held onto me as he gazed into my bedroom eyes, blinded by the sun and asked, "So when you coming back to Raleigh?"
"When are you next available?" I asked.
"Oh, Tuesday or Wednesday I guess."
When he wouldn't play hookey with me, I headed home only to find an e-mail from him. It said, "blah, blah, blah I hope I'm not looking too far in advanced, but next week I'm available to see you Tuesday or Wednesday, and we can either stay in, or go out."
Nope, not looking too far in advanced at all...
We have a really awesome mall (nothing compared to KOP) about 15 minutes from me. It's called Southpoint, and looks like a quaint little town with it's stores all being outside.
It also happens to have a movie theatre and a P.F. Chang's aka Fake Chinese food. It was here that we met for our lunch date--his idea.
I'm beginning to notice a pattern with Antares and our "meeting" locations. It always has excellent mood lighting.
We sat and talked, and I stared. A lot. He reminds me a lot of Joaquin Phoenix from "Walk The Line" whom I still find totally hot. And he's personable! And yet my mind has to ruin a perfectly good moment by screaming "Warning! Warning! Playing With Fire! About to get burned!
He did take me by complete surprise though when he said without thinking, "If you think I'm the whitest Mexican person (he's 1/2 white, 1/2 mexican) you've ever met, wait till you meet my mom!"
Eyes as wide as saucers people. Wide as saucers.
But it wasn't until we got outside that things got hot and heavy. He walked me to my car, and then leaned in for a kiss. And then grabbing a hold of my belt loops held onto me as he gazed into my bedroom eyes, blinded by the sun and asked, "So when you coming back to Raleigh?"
"When are you next available?" I asked.
"Oh, Tuesday or Wednesday I guess."
When he wouldn't play hookey with me, I headed home only to find an e-mail from him. It said, "blah, blah, blah I hope I'm not looking too far in advanced, but next week I'm available to see you Tuesday or Wednesday, and we can either stay in, or go out."
Nope, not looking too far in advanced at all...
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Lots of Expletitives
Saturday I was supposed to meet Chris's mom and Amber at the prison for a nice little visit with Chris. So imagine my surprise when Chris called me Friday night to let me know not to come.
"We've been locked down all night," he explained. He continued to tell me that generally this happens when there's been a fight, and will blow over within the next day or so. "I just don't want you to waste a trip up here."
Apparently they had only let them out long enough to have a quick break--they weren't even allowed out to have dinner--instead it was delivered to them in their individual cells.
Chris was more perturbed than I was. According to him, it was ruining a perfectly good weekend-- the outside baseball team was coming in, they had planned a volleyball game in the gym, and of course a visit.
"I'll call you when they finally let us out," he had said.
Too bad that call didn't come till tonight, a full 4 days later, and consequently on a day that had no visits.
It seems like every time I make amends with this situation, the BOP finds a new way to me over.
"We've been locked down all night," he explained. He continued to tell me that generally this happens when there's been a fight, and will blow over within the next day or so. "I just don't want you to waste a trip up here."
Apparently they had only let them out long enough to have a quick break--they weren't even allowed out to have dinner--instead it was delivered to them in their individual cells.
Chris was more perturbed than I was. According to him, it was ruining a perfectly good weekend-- the outside baseball team was coming in, they had planned a volleyball game in the gym, and of course a visit.
"I'll call you when they finally let us out," he had said.
Too bad that call didn't come till tonight, a full 4 days later, and consequently on a day that had no visits.
It seems like every time I make amends with this situation, the BOP finds a new way to
Monday, October 6, 2008
The weirdest thing to happen to me this week...
I headed out to the local Walmart tonight in anticipation of bringing new kitty home. I needed all important things like a litter box, cat litter, and bowls in which to feed said-kitten. I didn't forget food, it just comes with her.
A man, perhaps a boy, given his young looks, stopped me in the parking lot, with my un-combed hair, and non-made-up face.
"Can I ask you a question?" he said.
I nodded, and leaned into him a bit as if he were mentally handicapped, and being closer would help me understand him.
"Are you in school?" he simply asked.
"No, not since I've been down here," I said. I added emphatically,"I'm from PA and I'm waiting to get residency. I moved down in May."
That launched him into a whole spiel about an all expense paid trip to Paris for two, and points and magazines. Had he had a magazine I was legitimately interested in, I would've bought one. As it turned out, I bought two and sent them to the local children's hospital. (Yes, I have sucker written across my forehead).
When we parted ways, he went to McDonalds, and I went for-kitten shopping. Before we departed though, I had told him about Chris, and he had said, "How do you date someone that you only get to see once a week?"
I gave my standard answer, "Well it's hard..."
"Well I didn't think it would be easy," he replied sarcastically.
He ended by telling me to call him when I was done, as he wanted to talk to me.
I took my time for-kitten shopping. And then I headed to the car, where I had left my phone.
I dialed, let it ring a few times, and hung up. Unfortunately for me, he called back.
We met outside of Walmart, walked and talked before deciding to hang out IN my car. He never really got around to telling me what he wanted to talk about, despite my asking. And I never really pinpointed his motives, to be perfectly honest.
Eventually, (i.e. about 15 min later), I told him I needed to get going, and he exited my car, and I left.
But damn if that wasn't the weirdest thing to happen to me this week!
A man, perhaps a boy, given his young looks, stopped me in the parking lot, with my un-combed hair, and non-made-up face.
"Can I ask you a question?" he said.
I nodded, and leaned into him a bit as if he were mentally handicapped, and being closer would help me understand him.
"Are you in school?" he simply asked.
"No, not since I've been down here," I said. I added emphatically,"I'm from PA and I'm waiting to get residency. I moved down in May."
That launched him into a whole spiel about an all expense paid trip to Paris for two, and points and magazines. Had he had a magazine I was legitimately interested in, I would've bought one. As it turned out, I bought two and sent them to the local children's hospital. (Yes, I have sucker written across my forehead).
When we parted ways, he went to McDonalds, and I went for-kitten shopping. Before we departed though, I had told him about Chris, and he had said, "How do you date someone that you only get to see once a week?"
I gave my standard answer, "Well it's hard..."
"Well I didn't think it would be easy," he replied sarcastically.
He ended by telling me to call him when I was done, as he wanted to talk to me.
I took my time for-kitten shopping. And then I headed to the car, where I had left my phone.
I dialed, let it ring a few times, and hung up. Unfortunately for me, he called back.
We met outside of Walmart, walked and talked before deciding to hang out IN my car. He never really got around to telling me what he wanted to talk about, despite my asking. And I never really pinpointed his motives, to be perfectly honest.
Eventually, (i.e. about 15 min later), I told him I needed to get going, and he exited my car, and I left.
But damn if that wasn't the weirdest thing to happen to me this week!
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Chick Flick
I've been e-mailing back and forth with this articulate guy, Antares, for quite some time now.
While I wouldn't say we've talked about everything, we have covered a variety of topics, and I greatly enjoy talking to him.
So perhaps it was all the dates I've been on recently, that left me confused as to a lot of the details when we met up today.
We agreed to meet in Raleigh, at a brewery (i.e. makes their own beer) located in an industrial park. I seriously drove by it twice before realizing exactly where our destination was supposed to be.
As I sat in the parking lot, waiting for him, and reading my book, I took notice to several people approaching the bar only to leave again. I had the feeling that the bar was going to be closed when Antares got there, but felt no source of angst whatsoever.
Normally, this is where the story would turn bad. But as I realized I had never seen a picture of Antares, as he approached me I was surprisingly...attracted to him.
Finding the bar was closed, we decided to head to downtown Raleigh, where I've been so many times before, and parking on a little side-street, we headed around the corner to a nice-sized bar and restaurant. We sat at a table, way in the back with no one around us and the softest of lighting. As the evening turned into night we drank and talked until we were too full to do anything but walk.
I must say that I could have chosen better shoes for the occassion as we decided to try and walk what would end up being a great deal of distance to find a rose garden. (You can google Rose Garden in Raleigh and click images to see what I'm talking about).
About 1/2 way to what we thought would be our destination, we sat down at a table outside of a closed pizza restaurant to allow me to rest my tired feet before we continued on. The conversation never halted, always changing and flowing naturally.
When we decided to continue on a bit, with me alternating between carrying my shoes and wearing them, we finally stopped at a store front where some freshmen were cleaning off a store front window, decorated for the season's game. They told us that unfortunately they had no idea where the rose garden was, but they thought it was the opposite way of where we were going.
We walked a couple of more blocks only to finally give up and head back, arm-in-arm to the car.
We stopped at one of the only benches about 1/2 way back to again allow me to rest my feet. Still, the conversation never ceased until it ended in one of the most delicate, and passionate kisses I have ever received.
I thanked him for the kiss as he gently pushed a stray hair away from my face. I explained that until that moment, I had no idea if his interest in me was strictly platonic, or something more. He smiled and reaffirmed things with another kiss.
When we got back to the car, I assumed the evening was over, and we were soon back at our original meeting location.
It was then he told me that he hadn't intended for the evening to end just yet. So we sat. And we talked.
The evening finally came to a close when 3 police cars rolled by, and we decided not to press our luck. Plus it was 1 a.m. and we both had to work the next day.
All in all, I'd say it was the eqivalent of a relationship in a good chick flick.
While I wouldn't say we've talked about everything, we have covered a variety of topics, and I greatly enjoy talking to him.
So perhaps it was all the dates I've been on recently, that left me confused as to a lot of the details when we met up today.
We agreed to meet in Raleigh, at a brewery (i.e. makes their own beer) located in an industrial park. I seriously drove by it twice before realizing exactly where our destination was supposed to be.
As I sat in the parking lot, waiting for him, and reading my book, I took notice to several people approaching the bar only to leave again. I had the feeling that the bar was going to be closed when Antares got there, but felt no source of angst whatsoever.
Normally, this is where the story would turn bad. But as I realized I had never seen a picture of Antares, as he approached me I was surprisingly...attracted to him.
Finding the bar was closed, we decided to head to downtown Raleigh, where I've been so many times before, and parking on a little side-street, we headed around the corner to a nice-sized bar and restaurant. We sat at a table, way in the back with no one around us and the softest of lighting. As the evening turned into night we drank and talked until we were too full to do anything but walk.
I must say that I could have chosen better shoes for the occassion as we decided to try and walk what would end up being a great deal of distance to find a rose garden. (You can google Rose Garden in Raleigh and click images to see what I'm talking about).
About 1/2 way to what we thought would be our destination, we sat down at a table outside of a closed pizza restaurant to allow me to rest my tired feet before we continued on. The conversation never halted, always changing and flowing naturally.
When we decided to continue on a bit, with me alternating between carrying my shoes and wearing them, we finally stopped at a store front where some freshmen were cleaning off a store front window, decorated for the season's game. They told us that unfortunately they had no idea where the rose garden was, but they thought it was the opposite way of where we were going.
We walked a couple of more blocks only to finally give up and head back, arm-in-arm to the car.
We stopped at one of the only benches about 1/2 way back to again allow me to rest my feet. Still, the conversation never ceased until it ended in one of the most delicate, and passionate kisses I have ever received.
I thanked him for the kiss as he gently pushed a stray hair away from my face. I explained that until that moment, I had no idea if his interest in me was strictly platonic, or something more. He smiled and reaffirmed things with another kiss.
When we got back to the car, I assumed the evening was over, and we were soon back at our original meeting location.
It was then he told me that he hadn't intended for the evening to end just yet. So we sat. And we talked.
The evening finally came to a close when 3 police cars rolled by, and we decided not to press our luck. Plus it was 1 a.m. and we both had to work the next day.
All in all, I'd say it was the eqivalent of a relationship in a good chick flick.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Haunted House...
Last night I put an ad on Craigslist looking for someone that wanted to go to a Haunted House with me tonight. I received a lot of responses over the course of last night, and today, and just when I had given up hope of finding someone, I got an e-mail from Anthony.
We quickly corresponded back and forth before deciding to meet in Raleigh and drive to Clayton (about 15 min) from there.
What we found when we got to Johnston County was a small farming community that was as scary, if not scarier than the haunted house itself.
There were to be six (6) main attractions. The Slaughter House aka the first house we went into was really good. The bad part was that it conditioned you for what was to come next in the other haunted houses.
In the one a girl approached me and asked, "Do you wanna play a game?"
Sarcastically I replied, "You don't like the games I do."
"I don't know what kind of games you like," she countered.
"Hey weren't you in that movie...." I said.
She stared blankly at me not sure what to say.
"Do you wanna play a game?"
Thankfully we were soon away from her.
They also had a school house which was nicely done. The head-master at the front desk was a spitting image of the head-master from Matilda, and of course there was all the basic subjects. (Science, Anatomy, the cafeteria....)
There was a corn maze which left a lot to be desired.
Our second favorite attraction was the 3-d tunnel of darkness. You know it's not moving, but after being in there for a few minutes, you tend to think it is.
Our final favorite was being chased by chainsaws through what was known as "A Walk In the Dark."
All in all it was a 2/5.
Fun, but would have been funer with a straight guy. As Chris would say, "Ever done it in a haunted house?"
We quickly corresponded back and forth before deciding to meet in Raleigh and drive to Clayton (about 15 min) from there.
What we found when we got to Johnston County was a small farming community that was as scary, if not scarier than the haunted house itself.
There were to be six (6) main attractions. The Slaughter House aka the first house we went into was really good. The bad part was that it conditioned you for what was to come next in the other haunted houses.
In the one a girl approached me and asked, "Do you wanna play a game?"
Sarcastically I replied, "You don't like the games I do."
"I don't know what kind of games you like," she countered.
"Hey weren't you in that movie...." I said.
She stared blankly at me not sure what to say.
"Do you wanna play a game?"
Thankfully we were soon away from her.
They also had a school house which was nicely done. The head-master at the front desk was a spitting image of the head-master from Matilda, and of course there was all the basic subjects. (Science, Anatomy, the cafeteria....)
There was a corn maze which left a lot to be desired.
Our second favorite attraction was the 3-d tunnel of darkness. You know it's not moving, but after being in there for a few minutes, you tend to think it is.
Our final favorite was being chased by chainsaws through what was known as "A Walk In the Dark."
All in all it was a 2/5.
Fun, but would have been funer with a straight guy. As Chris would say, "Ever done it in a haunted house?"
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Psycho Sixty Year Olds
After a series of bad dates, I should know better. I should know to keep my details straight, and to always, always ask for a photo. Then, at least, I know what I'm getting into.
I met Danny much the same way I met my other prospects. His ad was simply put, he's lonely and looking for a friend. After my first e-mail he simply e-mails me back with two questions, one I forget, and the other asking if I have an Electra complex.
No to both, I reply.
We begin talking and he confides in me. Tells me that he has a sick loved one, and that he's quit drinking. I kind of dislike being around people with addictions. After all, it makes it such an egg-shell sort of topic. And I happen to like to drink.
Realizing what it's like to have a loved-one in the hospital, I suggested we meet for coffee. "Dude, you need to get out of the house!"
We agreed on a mutual location in Durham--a Starbucks. We talked on the phone beforehand. He called me as I pulled into the parking lot. But nothing he said ever tipped me off to what I would see.
There was an older gentleman, probably someone my dad's age sitting outside under the light. He looked like a more human version of Freddy Crueger. For someone so young, he sure did look old.
Trying to relax myself, and alleviate my fears, I dialed Danny's number and watched in horror as the man sitting outside picked up his ringing phone as the phone in my hand started to ring.
Not wanting to expose myself, I got out of my car, walked inside, ordered my coffee, and left him there. I even made sure to meet his gaze and give a kind half-smile, the same as I'd do to anyone else as to not draw attention to myself.
He tried calling me several more times. I didn't answer. He didn't leave a message. When I got home an e-mail in my inbox from MySpace read, "Message from Danny". Oh, shit I said.
It turns out Danny is a 60 year old man. Too bad I was expecting someone half of his age. And he has a Myspace page!
He wrote me a "WTF" e-mail. I read it, and hit delete. He proceeded to phone me again and this time to leave a message that started off saying, "I don't know what kind of game you're trying to play." I certainly didn't hang around to hear the rest.
I want to say it ended with that phone call, but it didn't. And it left me feeling shaken. Never before has my rejection left someone that old, that bitter before. After all, rejection is part of life. And really, when you're 60, isn't everyone around you dropping like flies?
He called me one more time, the next day. This time he didn't leave a message, and I seriously considered calling the police. But what could I say? I broke the heart of a 60-year old psycho that I've never met?
Thankfully it never came to that, but the truth is that psychos don't get well, they just get older.
I met Danny much the same way I met my other prospects. His ad was simply put, he's lonely and looking for a friend. After my first e-mail he simply e-mails me back with two questions, one I forget, and the other asking if I have an Electra complex.
No to both, I reply.
We begin talking and he confides in me. Tells me that he has a sick loved one, and that he's quit drinking. I kind of dislike being around people with addictions. After all, it makes it such an egg-shell sort of topic. And I happen to like to drink.
Realizing what it's like to have a loved-one in the hospital, I suggested we meet for coffee. "Dude, you need to get out of the house!"
We agreed on a mutual location in Durham--a Starbucks. We talked on the phone beforehand. He called me as I pulled into the parking lot. But nothing he said ever tipped me off to what I would see.
There was an older gentleman, probably someone my dad's age sitting outside under the light. He looked like a more human version of Freddy Crueger. For someone so young, he sure did look old.
Trying to relax myself, and alleviate my fears, I dialed Danny's number and watched in horror as the man sitting outside picked up his ringing phone as the phone in my hand started to ring.
Not wanting to expose myself, I got out of my car, walked inside, ordered my coffee, and left him there. I even made sure to meet his gaze and give a kind half-smile, the same as I'd do to anyone else as to not draw attention to myself.
He tried calling me several more times. I didn't answer. He didn't leave a message. When I got home an e-mail in my inbox from MySpace read, "Message from Danny". Oh, shit I said.
It turns out Danny is a 60 year old man. Too bad I was expecting someone half of his age. And he has a Myspace page!
He wrote me a "WTF" e-mail. I read it, and hit delete. He proceeded to phone me again and this time to leave a message that started off saying, "I don't know what kind of game you're trying to play." I certainly didn't hang around to hear the rest.
I want to say it ended with that phone call, but it didn't. And it left me feeling shaken. Never before has my rejection left someone that old, that bitter before. After all, rejection is part of life. And really, when you're 60, isn't everyone around you dropping like flies?
He called me one more time, the next day. This time he didn't leave a message, and I seriously considered calling the police. But what could I say? I broke the heart of a 60-year old psycho that I've never met?
Thankfully it never came to that, but the truth is that psychos don't get well, they just get older.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Bad First Meeting...
Whenever I work a weekend, I always get a day off during the week. Today I had off to compensate for having to work tomorrow. So I cleaned the apartment, took the trash out, did laundry, went grocery shopping, and met up with Scott.
Scott and I have been e-mailing short messages back and forth for about a week now. Our first conversation on the phone though, didn't go over so well.
Basically it was a list of all of the things Scott didn't like, that is until he discovered things I did appreciate. I like the town I live in. I like country music. And I love the melting-pot of people here.
So it shouldn't have been a surprise to me when I agreed to meet Scott, and he was as he described other people as being: a clusterfuck.
I should have known when he wanted to meet up a bowling alley, and I showed up at the one on a completely different route that it was going to be a horrible, no good very bad, red-headed step-child kind of meeting.
As I pulled into the parking lot, and found a parking space, I approached the front of the bowling alley and saw a person on their phone looking a bit distressed. He told the person on the phone, "Okay, my friend is here now." He got off the phone, gave me a creepy smile before peeking down my shirt, and and saying, "Wow! A normal person!"
He immediately sought out the food court portion of the bowling alley, and waited impatiently for service.
"Do you have water?" he asked harshly.
Now mind you that there is a sign right next to him says that water is $1.79 plus tax, but the woman decides to indulge him, and pulls out a bottle of water and explains that it costs $1.79 + tax.
He tells her no, and as she's putting it away he inquires as to how much the fountain water costs.
She explains that he would need to obtain water from the water fountain instead. So he makes her pull the water back out! And he's being rude the entire time.
As he's paying, he turns around and asks me if I want anything.
"Um, no thanks," I manage to utter.
We sit down at the small table they have set-up. He talks a bit about how he wants to move to Pittsburgh, and how it's such a great town.
There is nothing great about Pittsburgh. It's a small, boring town. There are more rural communities here, in which cows graze that are more exciting.
I stop him mid-sentence to ask him to excuse me for a moment.
I get up, look around anxiously for the bathroom before mouthing, "Bathroom?"
"Bathroom?" he yells. "Oh it's down the hall," he says gesturing. I head down the hall to the ladies room and take notice of only one other exit other than the main entrance. Of course it has to say, "Emergency Exit Only. Alarm Will Sound".
I enter the bathroom trying to come up with a good excuse to leave. Shit, shit, shit!
I leave the bathroom and sneak through the arcade, and manage to get out the front door without being seen. I stand plastered up against the stone wall slightly away from the window as I take off my high-heeled shoes. And then I make a run for it.
I run so fast to my car, sliding inside as if I'm sliding into home plate. My feeble fingers can't get the key into the ignition fast enough and soon I'm driving far, far, away from the creepy clusterfuck of a man that makes me feel dirty every time he looks down my shirt.
He texts me. I tell him that I'm violently ill. Not feeling well. Had to leave.
He calls. I send him to voicemail. He texts again.
And finally, I tell him that if he doesn't leave me alone, I will call the police.
And finally....nothing.
Scott and I have been e-mailing short messages back and forth for about a week now. Our first conversation on the phone though, didn't go over so well.
Basically it was a list of all of the things Scott didn't like, that is until he discovered things I did appreciate. I like the town I live in. I like country music. And I love the melting-pot of people here.
So it shouldn't have been a surprise to me when I agreed to meet Scott, and he was as he described other people as being: a clusterfuck.
I should have known when he wanted to meet up a bowling alley, and I showed up at the one on a completely different route that it was going to be a horrible, no good very bad, red-headed step-child kind of meeting.
As I pulled into the parking lot, and found a parking space, I approached the front of the bowling alley and saw a person on their phone looking a bit distressed. He told the person on the phone, "Okay, my friend is here now." He got off the phone, gave me a creepy smile before peeking down my shirt, and and saying, "Wow! A normal person!"
He immediately sought out the food court portion of the bowling alley, and waited impatiently for service.
"Do you have water?" he asked harshly.
Now mind you that there is a sign right next to him says that water is $1.79 plus tax, but the woman decides to indulge him, and pulls out a bottle of water and explains that it costs $1.79 + tax.
He tells her no, and as she's putting it away he inquires as to how much the fountain water costs.
She explains that he would need to obtain water from the water fountain instead. So he makes her pull the water back out! And he's being rude the entire time.
As he's paying, he turns around and asks me if I want anything.
"Um, no thanks," I manage to utter.
We sit down at the small table they have set-up. He talks a bit about how he wants to move to Pittsburgh, and how it's such a great town.
There is nothing great about Pittsburgh. It's a small, boring town. There are more rural communities here, in which cows graze that are more exciting.
I stop him mid-sentence to ask him to excuse me for a moment.
I get up, look around anxiously for the bathroom before mouthing, "Bathroom?"
"Bathroom?" he yells. "Oh it's down the hall," he says gesturing. I head down the hall to the ladies room and take notice of only one other exit other than the main entrance. Of course it has to say, "Emergency Exit Only. Alarm Will Sound".
I enter the bathroom trying to come up with a good excuse to leave. Shit, shit, shit!
I leave the bathroom and sneak through the arcade, and manage to get out the front door without being seen. I stand plastered up against the stone wall slightly away from the window as I take off my high-heeled shoes. And then I make a run for it.
I run so fast to my car, sliding inside as if I'm sliding into home plate. My feeble fingers can't get the key into the ignition fast enough and soon I'm driving far, far, away from the creepy clusterfuck of a man that makes me feel dirty every time he looks down my shirt.
He texts me. I tell him that I'm violently ill. Not feeling well. Had to leave.
He calls. I send him to voicemail. He texts again.
And finally, I tell him that if he doesn't leave me alone, I will call the police.
And finally....nothing.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
The Less Things Change, The More They Never Seem The Same..
It's officially 7:52 a.m. and I'm awake. Suffice it to say that I'm not a morninng person, and I can actually see the screen so I've been awake long enough to feel awake and put in contacts.
When I woke up this morning, I figured it HAD to be at least 9 a.m. Curiousity killed the cat and I peeked at my watch: 7:36 a.m., it read. So much for "sleeping in".
Much like when I was a child, anxiously anticipating the next morning to arrive as quickly as possible, on Christmas Eve, I wanted to bound through the house yelling, and waking everyone up. Only instead of yelling about how it's time to open presents, I'd be yelling that their guest is awake, so wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey. (Traditionally in the past this "ritual" has also involved jumping on certain, ahem, people's beds. (Beds, heads--wherever you land is always a mystery..lol).
Instead though, I allowed everyone to sleep in as I finally had a moment to take in my surroundings. I must say that everything still looks the same, and has the same feel to it. And the handsoap still smells deliciously nice. Other than a few minor adjustments someone not accustomed to seeing this home wouldn't be bothered to notice, it's exactly as I left it 4 months ago.
So why do I feel like an absolute stranger in my childhood home? Is it weird that my old room has no memory of me? And why do I feel so "out of place" being here? I grew up here. Here in PA. Here in the suburbs of Philly, and yet...this is not my home. NC is my home. Where my stuff is, where my "home" is. And where my heart is.
I love these people dearly, but I could never come back here, to live, as North Carolina stole my heart 10 months ago on my first visit, and I never got it back. What's weirder still is that I'm learning the less things change, the more they never seem the same.
When I woke up this morning, I figured it HAD to be at least 9 a.m. Curiousity killed the cat and I peeked at my watch: 7:36 a.m., it read. So much for "sleeping in".
Much like when I was a child, anxiously anticipating the next morning to arrive as quickly as possible, on Christmas Eve, I wanted to bound through the house yelling, and waking everyone up. Only instead of yelling about how it's time to open presents, I'd be yelling that their guest is awake, so wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey. (Traditionally in the past this "ritual" has also involved jumping on certain, ahem, people's beds. (Beds, heads--wherever you land is always a mystery..lol).
Instead though, I allowed everyone to sleep in as I finally had a moment to take in my surroundings. I must say that everything still looks the same, and has the same feel to it. And the handsoap still smells deliciously nice. Other than a few minor adjustments someone not accustomed to seeing this home wouldn't be bothered to notice, it's exactly as I left it 4 months ago.
So why do I feel like an absolute stranger in my childhood home? Is it weird that my old room has no memory of me? And why do I feel so "out of place" being here? I grew up here. Here in PA. Here in the suburbs of Philly, and yet...this is not my home. NC is my home. Where my stuff is, where my "home" is. And where my heart is.
I love these people dearly, but I could never come back here, to live, as North Carolina stole my heart 10 months ago on my first visit, and I never got it back. What's weirder still is that I'm learning the less things change, the more they never seem the same.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Waitin' At The Airport...
Queue Brad Paisley's "Waitin' On A Woman" music, and change the lyrics to "Waitin' At the Airport!" perhaps the most boring thing EVER!
I've spent a great deal of time traveling back and forth between airports. Somehow, the men I always pick (and they aren't always good picks, just ask Josh), leave me running from airport to airport for whatever ridiculous reason. RDU and I are no strangers, annd I am certainly no stranger to sitting in an airport terminal.
I hate airports. Seriously. They're full of over-priced food, captivated audiences, and people in bad moods. As a society we hate to wait, and I'm guilty of it too! I just want to be at my next destination...yesterday. So much so that I wouldn't be proactive enough to drive.
Luckily for me, I brought my laptop (a decision I seriously (?!!!) considered not doing for this trip, and it's been a saving grace. So has Jason--making me make funny faces at the screen--amusing fellow passengers, and making me resist the urge to laugh out loud. Thanks dude, I owe you one.
So in the midst of "should I?, or shouldn't I?" I somewhat penned (if my "pen" is secretly my keys) the following entry:
I am resisting the urge to pay the ridiculous $10/24 hour (or whatever it really is…) fee at the airport and to log online. So far my adventures have led me to learn that I only live 40 minutes from the airport, leaving me both tired and excited for what lay ahead. ..:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />
No calls yet, but I'm waiting. After all, so many people are excited by the idea of me returning to my hometown that now that I am, it seems almost surreal. It's difficult to imagine not having to pay for internet access, and I actually contemplated whether I wanted to drag my laptop along for the ride. I decided in favor simply for the mere fact that blogging "during" something is much more detail oriented, and more exciting than me slapping down bits and pieces after the fact.
The initial I.D. checker was cute, and consequently trying to impress me.
"Did you see that?"
I nodded, uncertain of what I was nodding in positive response to.
"What?" I asked.
He reached for his pocket flashlight and attempted to shine it over my I.D. again.
"That your light doesn't work?" I've been in a sarcastic mood all day thanks to the likes of Ashley. (Fondly known as Malibu Barbie)
He reached for another pocket-sized flashlight next to him, and in a swift moment shined it over my I.D. revealing the light sensitive words, Pennsylvania.
"Do you know that was there?" he inquired.
I nodded emphatically. "Yeah, I knew it was there. I travel a lot."
He seemed a bit disappointed when he told me that usually people think," that's so cool!" when he shows it to them.
I laughed and mentioned not for him to worry, I'd be back
I've spent a great deal of time traveling back and forth between airports. Somehow, the men I always pick (and they aren't always good picks, just ask Josh), leave me running from airport to airport for whatever ridiculous reason. RDU and I are no strangers, annd I am certainly no stranger to sitting in an airport terminal.
I hate airports. Seriously. They're full of over-priced food, captivated audiences, and people in bad moods. As a society we hate to wait, and I'm guilty of it too! I just want to be at my next destination...yesterday. So much so that I wouldn't be proactive enough to drive.
Luckily for me, I brought my laptop (a decision I seriously (?!!!) considered not doing for this trip, and it's been a saving grace. So has Jason--making me make funny faces at the screen--amusing fellow passengers, and making me resist the urge to laugh out loud. Thanks dude, I owe you one.
So in the midst of "should I?, or shouldn't I?" I somewhat penned (if my "pen" is secretly my keys) the following entry:
I am resisting the urge to pay the ridiculous $10/24 hour (or whatever it really is…) fee at the airport and to log online. So far my adventures have led me to learn that I only live 40 minutes from the airport, leaving me both tired and excited for what lay ahead. ..:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" />
No calls yet, but I'm waiting. After all, so many people are excited by the idea of me returning to my hometown that now that I am, it seems almost surreal. It's difficult to imagine not having to pay for internet access, and I actually contemplated whether I wanted to drag my laptop along for the ride. I decided in favor simply for the mere fact that blogging "during" something is much more detail oriented, and more exciting than me slapping down bits and pieces after the fact.
The initial I.D. checker was cute, and consequently trying to impress me.
"Did you see that?"
I nodded, uncertain of what I was nodding in positive response to.
"What?" I asked.
He reached for his pocket flashlight and attempted to shine it over my I.D. again.
"That your light doesn't work?" I've been in a sarcastic mood all day thanks to the likes of Ashley. (Fondly known as Malibu Barbie)
He reached for another pocket-sized flashlight next to him, and in a swift moment shined it over my I.D. revealing the light sensitive words, Pennsylvania.
"Do you know that was there?" he inquired.
I nodded emphatically. "Yeah, I knew it was there. I travel a lot."
He seemed a bit disappointed when he told me that usually people think," that's so cool!" when he shows it to them.
I laughed and mentioned not for him to worry, I'd be back
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Who Do You Want To Hurt?
Things with Jason have been progressing...nicely. Which is odd to me given that I didn't honestly expect them to. (Also ironic in that it's exactly what I wanted).
For example, our sack session have turned into sleep-overs (yes, I actually stay the entire night), and our sleep-overs have turned into multiple night occassions, and/or nights during the week. (We've had one of each thus far). No complaints there, I love spending time with him, and being even 10 minutes closer to work in the morning is nice!
But then some things will make me stop and question him. A perfect is example is our conversation on messenger one day. We're talking, blah, blah, blah and he sends me a link. "You have to see Stephanie [his roommate]'s new photo. It's scandalous."
Curiously, I click on the link to see a picture of Stephanie on HIS couch with her hands down her pants. Not all the way, but you get the point.
My bubble is bursted. "Did you take that picture?"
I meant it to sound more curious than demanding but I think the latter showed through despite there being two machines between us.
"Nope," he replied. "She did".
Other weird things have happened involving this girl. Like we'll be randomly hanging out, and I use the bathroom in the master bedroom. (His room). For two trips, the bed isn't made. The third trip it is.
Jason shrugs these little things off. "She doesn't pay rent," he tells me. And....
And weirder still, despite her having a bedroom, she continually leaves stuff in his room. Her shoes, possibly her curling iron....
We've had the "If I'm sleeping with you, I'm not sleeping with anyone else" discussion, but yet I see these things.
The icing on the cake was the "Junk Photo". Apparently one night Jason got really, really drunk and asked where her camera was. She told him, and he proceeded to take the camera into the bathroom and take a photo of his junk.
Now I was positively convinced they were sleeping together.
So, feeling concerned, I decided to dial someone that wasn't involved in this whole experience, and could offer me an unbiased, honest opinion. And that person happens to be Josh. He's 27, and in the almost 6 years we've been friends, he has never once lied to me, or pulled a punch. Consequently for him, neither have I. Literally.
"I need your opinion on a hypothetical situation," I said exasperated. And then I unloaded all of the details onto him.
"The camera thing could have involved him being drunk," he explained matter of factly. (I left the "being drunk" detail out on purpose). "But if you're at all in doubt that he's sleeping with someone else, then don't sleep with him. When it comes to matters of your health, it's not worth risking." And in true Josh fashion he said, "I don't want you to come back to Philly with a t-shirt that says, 'I went to North Carolina, and all I got were these gential warts'.
Of course talk of Jason inspired talk of Chris. Where are things? How am I feeling? Do I still love him?
Ultimately Josh left me with this question: Do you want to hurt the guy who's falling for you, or the guy who's dreaming of a white picket fence with you in 3-5 years? And before you decide, you need to ask yourself: Am I running like I always do, or am I legitimately not able to do this?
I'm hoping this weekend--out of town, back in my hometown--will shed some light on that.
For example, our sack session have turned into sleep-overs (yes, I actually stay the entire night), and our sleep-overs have turned into multiple night occassions, and/or nights during the week. (We've had one of each thus far). No complaints there, I love spending time with him, and being even 10 minutes closer to work in the morning is nice!
But then some things will make me stop and question him. A perfect is example is our conversation on messenger one day. We're talking, blah, blah, blah and he sends me a link. "You have to see Stephanie [his roommate]'s new photo. It's scandalous."
Curiously, I click on the link to see a picture of Stephanie on HIS couch with her hands down her pants. Not all the way, but you get the point.
My bubble is bursted. "Did you take that picture?"
I meant it to sound more curious than demanding but I think the latter showed through despite there being two machines between us.
"Nope," he replied. "She did".
Other weird things have happened involving this girl. Like we'll be randomly hanging out, and I use the bathroom in the master bedroom. (His room). For two trips, the bed isn't made. The third trip it is.
Jason shrugs these little things off. "She doesn't pay rent," he tells me. And....
And weirder still, despite her having a bedroom, she continually leaves stuff in his room. Her shoes, possibly her curling iron....
We've had the "If I'm sleeping with you, I'm not sleeping with anyone else" discussion, but yet I see these things.
The icing on the cake was the "Junk Photo". Apparently one night Jason got really, really drunk and asked where her camera was. She told him, and he proceeded to take the camera into the bathroom and take a photo of his junk.
Now I was positively convinced they were sleeping together.
So, feeling concerned, I decided to dial someone that wasn't involved in this whole experience, and could offer me an unbiased, honest opinion. And that person happens to be Josh. He's 27, and in the almost 6 years we've been friends, he has never once lied to me, or pulled a punch. Consequently for him, neither have I. Literally.
"I need your opinion on a hypothetical situation," I said exasperated. And then I unloaded all of the details onto him.
"The camera thing could have involved him being drunk," he explained matter of factly. (I left the "being drunk" detail out on purpose). "But if you're at all in doubt that he's sleeping with someone else, then don't sleep with him. When it comes to matters of your health, it's not worth risking." And in true Josh fashion he said, "I don't want you to come back to Philly with a t-shirt that says, 'I went to North Carolina, and all I got were these gential warts'.
Of course talk of Jason inspired talk of Chris. Where are things? How am I feeling? Do I still love him?
Ultimately Josh left me with this question: Do you want to hurt the guy who's falling for you, or the guy who's dreaming of a white picket fence with you in 3-5 years? And before you decide, you need to ask yourself: Am I running like I always do, or am I legitimately not able to do this?
I'm hoping this weekend--out of town, back in my hometown--will shed some light on that.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Bawled Like A Hungry Baby (I A Topless Bar--A Tribute to Josh)
Today is the first day I've seen Chris in two weeks. There was a time, not so long ago, when I'd go out of my way to not miss a call, and the thought of going two weeks without seeing him positively made me want to throw-up.
Now though, living in the same state, and not actually being together, has left me feeling as though two weeks are a nice break.
It's also the first time since Chris didn't call me for all of those days, and I took it as divine intervention that we were not supposed to be together anymore. Guilty, guilty conscience? I don't know.
In the midst of my conviction, I wrote a brief note to Chris. I didn't start with my usual "hey babe" and I certainly didn't end with "I love you". What I did end with was, "Do we need a break?"
Needless to say, things were...awkward. What do you say in a moment like this? I can't apologize. I'm not sorry. I was serious. I was hurt. I can't make excuses--I stand behind my words.
But as the visit progressed, I realized again why I love Chris so much. His sense of humor, he easy feeling I get when I'm with him, and his overall personality.
"Just so you know, I didn't stand you up last week," I said.
"I know, I got that letter," he explained.
"Speaking of which," I inquired. "Are you getting my letters?"
While I've been delinquent on my visits, I have NOT been delinquent on my writing.
He got some of them. It figures he WOULD get the letter in which I ask if we need a break, and DOESN'T get the letter where I thank him for being an awesome boyfriend.
So maybe I'm going to hang onto this thing a while longer. I know that when I thought he left me, I didn't shed a tear. But when I knew he hadn't, I bawled like a baby.
Now though, living in the same state, and not actually being together, has left me feeling as though two weeks are a nice break.
It's also the first time since Chris didn't call me for all of those days, and I took it as divine intervention that we were not supposed to be together anymore. Guilty, guilty conscience? I don't know.
In the midst of my conviction, I wrote a brief note to Chris. I didn't start with my usual "hey babe" and I certainly didn't end with "I love you". What I did end with was, "Do we need a break?"
Needless to say, things were...awkward. What do you say in a moment like this? I can't apologize. I'm not sorry. I was serious. I was hurt. I can't make excuses--I stand behind my words.
But as the visit progressed, I realized again why I love Chris so much. His sense of humor, he easy feeling I get when I'm with him, and his overall personality.
"Just so you know, I didn't stand you up last week," I said.
"I know, I got that letter," he explained.
"Speaking of which," I inquired. "Are you getting my letters?"
While I've been delinquent on my visits, I have NOT been delinquent on my writing.
He got some of them. It figures he WOULD get the letter in which I ask if we need a break, and DOESN'T get the letter where I thank him for being an awesome boyfriend.
So maybe I'm going to hang onto this thing a while longer. I know that when I thought he left me, I didn't shed a tear. But when I knew he hadn't, I bawled like a baby.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
The Start Of My Super Bad Day
Ever since I've been in North Carolina, I've always said that I would only return to PA permanently under two conditions: one, is that I become pregnant and a single parent somewhat simultaneously. The other is that I feel like I'm in so far over my head that I just can't get out. Right now I'm certainly feeling in over my head, but I'm not ready to cave in just yet.
Yesterday I dropped my car off early morning at Meineke with a note: Chrysler Sebring, please do alignment and oil change. Call if any problems and left my phone number.
When the man called me, he certainly didn't have good news. The oil change was done, they couldn't do the alignment because the problem was bigger than them (essentially they need to cut what looks like a plus sign into my mounts to allow the camera to move side-to-side, and front-to-back), and I had an exhaust leak. He encouraged me to come in to take a look at the car, to better understand what he was talking about.
It's easy to see that the pipes had been molded together by some powerful tool. The bad news was I had to replace two parts to fix the leak, and it was going to cost me $1600. Frustrated, I whipped out my Visa, and handed it over, cringing. That card already carries a high balance.
The parts didn't come in till today, so last night I took my car, and carried on with my inappropriate antics (that story still to come) as usual. So imagine my surprise today when I drop off my car and receive a call not an hour and a half later. "Your O2 sensors are bad," he tells me.
I really can't afford much more! But this time there was a little good news. "I'll give you the part at my cost," he explained, "this will save you money, and there won't be an extra labor charge."
But it was still another $120!
I made a quick call to my grandparents whom told me to tell him to go ahead, after all, I needed the car.
So now I'm faced with overage charges on my credit card, and HUGE payments to it every month. Maybe one day I'll be debt free. And when I am, I want to remember how I'm struggling right now--to be out on my own, and to pay for everything. And then, I want to pay "cash" for everything I acquire. Well, maybe not everything.
Yesterday I dropped my car off early morning at Meineke with a note: Chrysler Sebring, please do alignment and oil change. Call if any problems and left my phone number.
When the man called me, he certainly didn't have good news. The oil change was done, they couldn't do the alignment because the problem was bigger than them (essentially they need to cut what looks like a plus sign into my mounts to allow the camera to move side-to-side, and front-to-back), and I had an exhaust leak. He encouraged me to come in to take a look at the car, to better understand what he was talking about.
It's easy to see that the pipes had been molded together by some powerful tool. The bad news was I had to replace two parts to fix the leak, and it was going to cost me $1600. Frustrated, I whipped out my Visa, and handed it over, cringing. That card already carries a high balance.
The parts didn't come in till today, so last night I took my car, and carried on with my inappropriate antics (that story still to come) as usual. So imagine my surprise today when I drop off my car and receive a call not an hour and a half later. "Your O2 sensors are bad," he tells me.
I really can't afford much more! But this time there was a little good news. "I'll give you the part at my cost," he explained, "this will save you money, and there won't be an extra labor charge."
But it was still another $120!
I made a quick call to my grandparents whom told me to tell him to go ahead, after all, I needed the car.
So now I'm faced with overage charges on my credit card, and HUGE payments to it every month. Maybe one day I'll be debt free. And when I am, I want to remember how I'm struggling right now--to be out on my own, and to pay for everything. And then, I want to pay "cash" for everything I acquire. Well, maybe not everything.
Monday, September 8, 2008
I'm Up For The Ride..
Now I'm sure while all of this "Jason-talk" hasn't inspired an uproar, much less a riot, I'm sure it has raised some questions. Probably the same question I've been repeatedly asking myself over and over again: What's up with the whole Chris deal?
And the truth is, that I don't know. I don't know if we're just changing as we go through the many stages of a relationship, or whether we're growing apart. I know that at 9 a.m. yesterday morning my phone rang from an "Unavailable" phone number. It had to be one of two people: Bally Total Fitness or Chris.
Granted, I don't get great reception in my apartment except for right in front of the patio doors in the living room. And I was not appropriately dressed to be flaunting my half-naked self to the world that early in the morning. But I also decided NOT to answer the phone at all. What kind of relationship does a person engage in that they don't want to talk to their significant other?
I think a lot of my lack of concern stems from guilt of breaking two promises. The first is cheating. The second is lying about it. I didn't directly lie about it, but it was a lie by omission. And to me, it doesn't matter that I had every intention of leaving Chris--the fact is that I didn't. And somehow, I think we're worse for that.
Lately he's been making comments that make me feel less than...adequate. Like he'll say things like, "I'm so glad we get to see each other for less than the 6 hours now." Which to me says, "I'm glad I'm not stuck with you for 6 hours." I get it, okay? The chairs are hard to sit in--they weren't designed to be comfortable. There's no privacy, no televisions or magazines or even books to read. All one can talk about are things outside of the room that have been happening. And there's no moving around. So it's tough. But as I told Chris, I did the absolute best I could with what I had to work with. Which was a 400 mile--7 hour--long distance relationship which only permitted me to see him two days, once per month. I know that sitting for 6 hours was tough, but so was not seeing the person you love for a month either!
At first I was truly relieved about the whole "space" thing. I thought, "This is perfect for me!" But now as my relationship progresses, I'm looking for a little bit more. Especially since we can only write letters (and let's face it, the mail takes TIME), occassional phone calls--which I can't really afford to supply the money for, and once-per-week visits for a couple of hours.
I was talking to a girl that I considered to be a friend down here for a while. And once I told her about Chris she said to me, "You deserve someone who can be out here with you to face the world". And she's right. As much as I can tell Chris about the struggles I'm experiencing here, it's only a story. In the end it makes it seem more like he's a friend that I kiss than a boyfriend. (Although he has many attributable qualities that I admire in a boyfriend).
Chris has always been the long-term plan. But he's also prepared himself for in case I do decide to meet someone out here. And he told me that he hopes I would tell the other person about him, and continue to come see him--even if we're only friends.
Pretty much the end conclusion that I've come to is that no one person can give me everything I'm needing. So I need to do more than just work and wait. I need to meet people, to go out and experience life before I'm ready to completely settle down and possibly have kids.
So that's what I'm doing. And it will be like a road or a roundabout. It will either take me to my next destination (unknown at this point), or it will turn me around to where I started.
Either way, I'm up for the ride...
And the truth is, that I don't know. I don't know if we're just changing as we go through the many stages of a relationship, or whether we're growing apart. I know that at 9 a.m. yesterday morning my phone rang from an "Unavailable" phone number. It had to be one of two people: Bally Total Fitness or Chris.
Granted, I don't get great reception in my apartment except for right in front of the patio doors in the living room. And I was not appropriately dressed to be flaunting my half-naked self to the world that early in the morning. But I also decided NOT to answer the phone at all. What kind of relationship does a person engage in that they don't want to talk to their significant other?
I think a lot of my lack of concern stems from guilt of breaking two promises. The first is cheating. The second is lying about it. I didn't directly lie about it, but it was a lie by omission. And to me, it doesn't matter that I had every intention of leaving Chris--the fact is that I didn't. And somehow, I think we're worse for that.
Lately he's been making comments that make me feel less than...adequate. Like he'll say things like, "I'm so glad we get to see each other for less than the 6 hours now." Which to me says, "I'm glad I'm not stuck with you for 6 hours." I get it, okay? The chairs are hard to sit in--they weren't designed to be comfortable. There's no privacy, no televisions or magazines or even books to read. All one can talk about are things outside of the room that have been happening. And there's no moving around. So it's tough. But as I told Chris, I did the absolute best I could with what I had to work with. Which was a 400 mile--7 hour--long distance relationship which only permitted me to see him two days, once per month. I know that sitting for 6 hours was tough, but so was not seeing the person you love for a month either!
At first I was truly relieved about the whole "space" thing. I thought, "This is perfect for me!" But now as my relationship progresses, I'm looking for a little bit more. Especially since we can only write letters (and let's face it, the mail takes TIME), occassional phone calls--which I can't really afford to supply the money for, and once-per-week visits for a couple of hours.
I was talking to a girl that I considered to be a friend down here for a while. And once I told her about Chris she said to me, "You deserve someone who can be out here with you to face the world". And she's right. As much as I can tell Chris about the struggles I'm experiencing here, it's only a story. In the end it makes it seem more like he's a friend that I kiss than a boyfriend. (Although he has many attributable qualities that I admire in a boyfriend).
Chris has always been the long-term plan. But he's also prepared himself for in case I do decide to meet someone out here. And he told me that he hopes I would tell the other person about him, and continue to come see him--even if we're only friends.
Pretty much the end conclusion that I've come to is that no one person can give me everything I'm needing. So I need to do more than just work and wait. I need to meet people, to go out and experience life before I'm ready to completely settle down and possibly have kids.
So that's what I'm doing. And it will be like a road or a roundabout. It will either take me to my next destination (unknown at this point), or it will turn me around to where I started.
Either way, I'm up for the ride...
Friday, September 5, 2008
Happiness is Fleeting, So We Lie To Protect Ourselves..
I was seriously tempted not to call Jason after work today. After all, it kind of hurt my feelings a bit that I called him all excited that I was going into work late, and he denied me. Not only that, it would also allow me to not see if I felt guilty or not about the whole situation.
But since I love eating any sweets (the proverbial cake in this instance) more than looking at them, I indulged and called him, only to be sent to voicemail....again. I left a cute little message about how I wanted to touch base with him, and see if he wanted to hang out, but if not then it was fine because I had plenty of annoying stuff I was avoiding doing anyhow that I could stop procrastinating on.
I went about my business--running errands and such and almost made it home when he called.
"So, do you wanna hangout?"
"YEAH!" I responded emphatically.
"Are you a vegetarian?" he asked.
I was halfway tempted to ask him if he was crazy, but simply responded with no.
"Good," he replied. "I'm making steaks."
I am soooo there.
I was literally but maybe 3-4 blocks away from my apartment complex and did a U-turn. I thought about it for a second--should I go back to the apartment and grab scubs just in case? I logicized with myself that it wouldn't be necessary-I wouldn't be there that long, and it was being presumptuous that he would actually invite me to spend the night.
Dinner was good, with a few jokes about how my coming over allowed them to sit at the table, and the whole only coming home when I wanted my laundry done. ;)
As the night rolled on, we talked to Stephanie about her guy conquests, I told her about Chris while Jason ran to the store, and she promised to help me chunk up my hair with blonde highlights.
Unfortunately my failure to plan left me planning to fail and after an hour of sleep, an hour drive home at 1 a.m. was completely in order. All would have been well and good if I hadn't gone the wrong way for about an hour....but managed to turn around and get about 3 hours of sleep for work the next day.
Morale of the story is to always keep a clean pair of scrubs in your car--just in case. As we all lie to ourselves most of the time.
But since I love eating any sweets (the proverbial cake in this instance) more than looking at them, I indulged and called him, only to be sent to voicemail....again. I left a cute little message about how I wanted to touch base with him, and see if he wanted to hang out, but if not then it was fine because I had plenty of annoying stuff I was avoiding doing anyhow that I could stop procrastinating on.
I went about my business--running errands and such and almost made it home when he called.
"So, do you wanna hangout?"
"YEAH!" I responded emphatically.
"Are you a vegetarian?" he asked.
I was halfway tempted to ask him if he was crazy, but simply responded with no.
"Good," he replied. "I'm making steaks."
I am soooo there.
I was literally but maybe 3-4 blocks away from my apartment complex and did a U-turn. I thought about it for a second--should I go back to the apartment and grab scubs just in case? I logicized with myself that it wouldn't be necessary-I wouldn't be there that long, and it was being presumptuous that he would actually invite me to spend the night.
Dinner was good, with a few jokes about how my coming over allowed them to sit at the table, and the whole only coming home when I wanted my laundry done. ;)
As the night rolled on, we talked to Stephanie about her guy conquests, I told her about Chris while Jason ran to the store, and she promised to help me chunk up my hair with blonde highlights.
Unfortunately my failure to plan left me planning to fail and after an hour of sleep, an hour drive home at 1 a.m. was completely in order. All would have been well and good if I hadn't gone the wrong way for about an hour....but managed to turn around and get about 3 hours of sleep for work the next day.
Morale of the story is to always keep a clean pair of scrubs in your car--just in case. As we all lie to ourselves most of the time.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Baked Ziti and Phone Tag
I gave Jason a ring when I was heading from work today. I had to run a bunch of errands--go grocery shopping mostly--and other things that I've been procrastinating doing.
Since he didn't answer, I'm off to make some baked ziti for 60 people for work tomorrow.
Note: Jason returned my call while I was in the kitchen so I had to call him back when I was done playing Betty Crocker.
Apparently there was no point to the call, other than to talk to me, as he did very little of it before asking if he could call me back. I logged into Messenger instead, and he told me he was heading out to take a ride on his motorcycle.
While hwas gone, I received a phone call from my boss telling me not to come in until 10 a.m. tomorrow. So I phoned Jason to see if he's available to hang out. Unfortunately he's not, but asked me to give him a ring tomorrow when I'm done work.
Since he didn't answer, I'm off to make some baked ziti for 60 people for work tomorrow.
Note: Jason returned my call while I was in the kitchen so I had to call him back when I was done playing Betty Crocker.
Apparently there was no point to the call, other than to talk to me, as he did very little of it before asking if he could call me back. I logged into Messenger instead, and he told me he was heading out to take a ride on his motorcycle.
While hwas gone, I received a phone call from my boss telling me not to come in until 10 a.m. tomorrow. So I phoned Jason to see if he's available to hang out. Unfortunately he's not, but asked me to give him a ring tomorrow when I'm done work.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Instant Message...
I received a message from Jason on Yahoo today. It said, "I've been trying to call you, but the call won't go through. Give me your number again."
I may have gone a bit overboard, as I typed my number into the IM, said I hoped everything was okay, and that I'd text it too. If I don't hear from him tommorrow I'll give him a ring. I'm just hoping it's not something dumb like, "You left blah blah blah here."
I'm sure I'll find out soon enough...
I may have gone a bit overboard, as I typed my number into the IM, said I hoped everything was okay, and that I'd text it too. If I don't hear from him tommorrow I'll give him a ring. I'm just hoping it's not something dumb like, "You left blah blah blah here."
I'm sure I'll find out soon enough...
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Walk of Shame...
After the excitement of yesterday, today I was happily anxious to just relax, and take a nap. When I woke up though, I found myself feeling strangely hungry, and my roomie was in the kitchen.
I guess I have space issues because if he's in the kitchen, I don't want to be. We have a tiny kitchen and to fit two people in there, trying to make food, doesn't work. Not to mention that he's not really someone I'd want to invade my space..
I am currently in the process of working with a guy I met--Jason--on getting photos done of what I thought was going to be the same premise for a similar project being done by friends of mine.
Jason didn't feel comfortable working with me before meeting me on less expected terms so I logged on and invited him to dinner.
After the initial sticker shock and where did this come from wore off, we agreed to meet at TGI Fridays--which I'd been craving, and talk business there.
I wore jeans, a cute black faux wrap top that lets my scorpion peek out just a bit, and stillettos. Kind of over the top for a business meeting, but it is somewhat provacative pictures after all.
As I sat in the parking lot waiting for him to arrive, I noticed another car with the lights off, but engine idling and figured it was Jason. Choosing to be safe rather than sorry, I walked over to a well-lit bench outside of the restaurant and waited. Unfortunately for me, that drew many stares from my male counterparts, and when Jason didn't show in the 10 minutes I allotted him, I went inside to eat.
I explained to the hostess that supposedly, I was meeting someone so she sat me for two. I got a drink and was just about to order when a man breezed past me, and said my name before sitting down.
While we waited for our order to arrive, we talked for a bit and I learned a lot about him that I didn't already known. The odd thing was that I kept catching him looking at me until finally I said, "okay, what's up?"
We went back and forth for a few seconds before he finally admitted from behind his beer, he was attracted to me. Flattered, I just hmmed.
During a terrible dessert, Jason excused himself for a moment, and while he was smoking, I took the liberty of paying the bill.
When he came back, he reached for his credit card, and went to put it into the little black sleeve. When I told him the bill was already taken care of, he responded smart assedly with, "Well I'm not putting out." I laughed and he seemed to relax a little.
Then he invited me back to his house. I declined. Then he invited me back to his house to "watch tv". THAT, I accepted.
No sooner had we arrived at his house than his dog, Shay slipped out of the house and running down the street.
"Is she allowed to go outside?" he asked.
"NO!" he responded emphatically.
I did an about face and headed back down the porch steps and into the road. I took my heels off and held them in my hand as I searched frantically for the missing dog. When I spotted her, I tried to devise a plan to get ahold of her collar, knowing that as I approached her, she would try to run.
She saw me coming and took off for a second, stopping to sniff. Surprisingly, she allowed me to approach her, and I ordered her to head "HOME!"
As she did, I grabbed ahold of her collar, and walked her back to the house. Jason came flying out the driveway after me, and walked her back in as he thanked me for going to get her.
Truthfully, I figured it was his roommate's dog, and what better way to make someone hate you than to lose their dog?
The drama of the night over with, we sat and played Guitar Hero, and Darts. Correction: they played Guitar Hero, and Darts. Jason played for me, and ended up beating himself!
He kept staring at me, which I would respond with, with a grin, and look back at the t.v.
At one point, with his roommate sitting not even an inch away, he kissed me, which completely shocked me. And then he did it again.
One thing led to another, and soon a two a.m. gathering of clothes, and walk of shame was in order.
I headed to my car, and got in to find that I wasn't entirely certain one, how to get back, and two, where the nearest gas station was. I jumped in the car, and tried to figure it out anyway.
I started heading down highway 55, and thinking I was heading the wrong direction, made a U-turn and headed on 55 E. A few lights in, I stopped at a lighted gas station and attempted to get gas, thanking God that I made it....only to find that the station was closed.
I decided that the only option would be to head back to Jason's and ask him to follow me in the event that I did run out of gas. Knowing that him roommate had gone to bed-or so I thought, and he was in bed, I carefully cracked the door, instead of ringing the bell, and poked my head inside.
"Jason," I whispered.
He, still in a soft, cotton blue robe, and his roomate turned around simultaneously. I explained the situation, and he attempted to call me, clicking the phone shut when he thought it had gone through. He gave me directions, and his roommate assured me that she can make it to the gas station when her light was on, and that it was only about 6 miles.
I said okay, apologized, and headed out again--completely embarassed!
To make matters worse, when I got to the car, I checked my phone and realized I didn't have his number! What if I ran out of gas? Panick overrode embarassment at that point and I headed back inside, one last time.
Ultimately Jason ended up following me to the gas station, and I made it without incident. He kissed me goodbye a few times, before I headed on my way to get a few hours of shut eye before I had to be back in Raleigh at 7:30 a.m. for work.
And then I was totally convinced I'd never hear from him again...
I guess I have space issues because if he's in the kitchen, I don't want to be. We have a tiny kitchen and to fit two people in there, trying to make food, doesn't work. Not to mention that he's not really someone I'd want to invade my space..
I am currently in the process of working with a guy I met--Jason--on getting photos done of what I thought was going to be the same premise for a similar project being done by friends of mine.
Jason didn't feel comfortable working with me before meeting me on less expected terms so I logged on and invited him to dinner.
After the initial sticker shock and where did this come from wore off, we agreed to meet at TGI Fridays--which I'd been craving, and talk business there.
I wore jeans, a cute black faux wrap top that lets my scorpion peek out just a bit, and stillettos. Kind of over the top for a business meeting, but it is somewhat provacative pictures after all.
As I sat in the parking lot waiting for him to arrive, I noticed another car with the lights off, but engine idling and figured it was Jason. Choosing to be safe rather than sorry, I walked over to a well-lit bench outside of the restaurant and waited. Unfortunately for me, that drew many stares from my male counterparts, and when Jason didn't show in the 10 minutes I allotted him, I went inside to eat.
I explained to the hostess that supposedly, I was meeting someone so she sat me for two. I got a drink and was just about to order when a man breezed past me, and said my name before sitting down.
While we waited for our order to arrive, we talked for a bit and I learned a lot about him that I didn't already known. The odd thing was that I kept catching him looking at me until finally I said, "okay, what's up?"
We went back and forth for a few seconds before he finally admitted from behind his beer, he was attracted to me. Flattered, I just hmmed.
During a terrible dessert, Jason excused himself for a moment, and while he was smoking, I took the liberty of paying the bill.
When he came back, he reached for his credit card, and went to put it into the little black sleeve. When I told him the bill was already taken care of, he responded smart assedly with, "Well I'm not putting out." I laughed and he seemed to relax a little.
Then he invited me back to his house. I declined. Then he invited me back to his house to "watch tv". THAT, I accepted.
No sooner had we arrived at his house than his dog, Shay slipped out of the house and running down the street.
"Is she allowed to go outside?" he asked.
"NO!" he responded emphatically.
I did an about face and headed back down the porch steps and into the road. I took my heels off and held them in my hand as I searched frantically for the missing dog. When I spotted her, I tried to devise a plan to get ahold of her collar, knowing that as I approached her, she would try to run.
She saw me coming and took off for a second, stopping to sniff. Surprisingly, she allowed me to approach her, and I ordered her to head "HOME!"
As she did, I grabbed ahold of her collar, and walked her back to the house. Jason came flying out the driveway after me, and walked her back in as he thanked me for going to get her.
Truthfully, I figured it was his roommate's dog, and what better way to make someone hate you than to lose their dog?
The drama of the night over with, we sat and played Guitar Hero, and Darts. Correction: they played Guitar Hero, and Darts. Jason played for me, and ended up beating himself!
He kept staring at me, which I would respond with, with a grin, and look back at the t.v.
At one point, with his roommate sitting not even an inch away, he kissed me, which completely shocked me. And then he did it again.
One thing led to another, and soon a two a.m. gathering of clothes, and walk of shame was in order.
I headed to my car, and got in to find that I wasn't entirely certain one, how to get back, and two, where the nearest gas station was. I jumped in the car, and tried to figure it out anyway.
I started heading down highway 55, and thinking I was heading the wrong direction, made a U-turn and headed on 55 E. A few lights in, I stopped at a lighted gas station and attempted to get gas, thanking God that I made it....only to find that the station was closed.
I decided that the only option would be to head back to Jason's and ask him to follow me in the event that I did run out of gas. Knowing that him roommate had gone to bed-or so I thought, and he was in bed, I carefully cracked the door, instead of ringing the bell, and poked my head inside.
"Jason," I whispered.
He, still in a soft, cotton blue robe, and his roomate turned around simultaneously. I explained the situation, and he attempted to call me, clicking the phone shut when he thought it had gone through. He gave me directions, and his roommate assured me that she can make it to the gas station when her light was on, and that it was only about 6 miles.
I said okay, apologized, and headed out again--completely embarassed!
To make matters worse, when I got to the car, I checked my phone and realized I didn't have his number! What if I ran out of gas? Panick overrode embarassment at that point and I headed back inside, one last time.
Ultimately Jason ended up following me to the gas station, and I made it without incident. He kissed me goodbye a few times, before I headed on my way to get a few hours of shut eye before I had to be back in Raleigh at 7:30 a.m. for work.
And then I was totally convinced I'd never hear from him again...
Monday, September 1, 2008
My Most Embarassing Moment..
The thing about visiting a prisoner is that you're only allowed to take in certain things: money--change not dollars--, your driver's license, and one key. I typically keep an extra key in my purse--just in case I decide to be an idiot that day and lock myself out of the car.
When I arrived at the prison, I was running slightky behind schedule for our pre-arranged meeting time of 12:00. As I began the long descent towards the front doors, I realized in my moment of idiocy that I had locked my purse in the trunk, but failed to put my keys in there. Making an about foot, I immediately returned to the car, opened the trunk, and checked my hand for the necessities: key-check, driver's license-check, and change-check. I slammed the trunk lid, and headed towards the front doors once again.
The visit in and of itself was pretty uneventful. I did happen to run into a lady that was in Red Lobster the night before. We went back and forth as to where I could've known her from during her entire visit to no avail. So when she came walking up to me in the prison waiting room I had to laugh out loud. "So that's where I know you from!" I exclaimed pretty loudly.
Soon though, Chris was with me, and she was visiting with her significant other, and the antics of the previous day were behind us.
At the end of the visit, while we were waiting to be escorted back across the non-covered walkway, we got to talking. We talked until we reached the parking lot, exchanged phone numbers for "next time", and I went to get into my car which happened to be haphazardly parked next to hers.
I put the key in the trunk and tried to turn it to release the trunk to no avail. My trunk sometimes gets stuck, so thankfully I have an interior trunk release. I moved to the side of my car only to find that the key wouldn't work in that door either. Concerned, I look down into the palm of my hand to find that the key I held was not a car key, but an old apartment key. That is to say it was from the lock of the apartment my former roommate and I shared. Even if I could catch a ride home to get an extra key, I wouldn't be able to get into the house!
I have AAA, but I had no way of obtaining their phone number. One of the CO's we officially do not like, suggested that I call Public Safety--the police--as they could be here quicker than AAA.
The nice lady from the night before let me borrow an umbrella for the impending thunder and lightening storm that was headed our way and bound to drench me.
I headed back inside the front doors of the prison, and made a phone call to public safety--which the front desk provided me with. They arrived within minutes to open the door, and placed what loooked like a portable blood presure cuff inside of the car. Instead of being shaped like a cuff it looked like a bean bag with a pump attached to it. All aesthetics aside, it worked to get me back into my car, only to sound off the alarm.
Naturally my car was bought used, and while is aesthetically pleasing, did not come with the hand-held remote. Typically car alarms will turn off if the key is placed in the ignition, so I worked quickly to release the trunk alarm, and put the key in the ignition to no avail.
Desperate, I look towards the police officer whom opened the door, and ask, "How do I make it stop?"
Several CO's leaving work for the day have culminated around my car. It's a circuit, you just have to unplug it," one of them says standing far back from the car I'm now convinced has become possessed. Another man is hoovering over my driver's seat trying to disconnect the circuit, finally giving up.
Just when we're about to lose all hope, the car alarm shuts itself off, and thanking everyone I get into my car.
I was already late for work and had an hour and half before I could be there plus or minus changing time. I made it all the way back to my apartment in Carrboro only to have the car alarm restart as soon as I put the car in park and reached for the door. Desperate, I tried to restart the car, place it back into drive etc. Finally giving up, and being in a hurry I left the angry car in favor of changing clothes and going to work.
At this point, I'm panicking. I can't leave my car at Red Lobster to blare and be annoying until such a time that it no longer feels the need to make it's presence known. And I don't know who to call to figure out how to make it stop! Frantic, I run into my now vibrating apartment to quickly change.
When I ran back outside, it sounded to me much like what I imagine NYC sounds like in the event of an emergency with all types of rescue personnel responding in their corresponding vehicles. It was so loud, it drew out people from OTHER buildings to stare.
Embarassed, I threw the key in the door to unlock it, and suddenly there was peace in the world again....
When I arrived at the prison, I was running slightky behind schedule for our pre-arranged meeting time of 12:00. As I began the long descent towards the front doors, I realized in my moment of idiocy that I had locked my purse in the trunk, but failed to put my keys in there. Making an about foot, I immediately returned to the car, opened the trunk, and checked my hand for the necessities: key-check, driver's license-check, and change-check. I slammed the trunk lid, and headed towards the front doors once again.
The visit in and of itself was pretty uneventful. I did happen to run into a lady that was in Red Lobster the night before. We went back and forth as to where I could've known her from during her entire visit to no avail. So when she came walking up to me in the prison waiting room I had to laugh out loud. "So that's where I know you from!" I exclaimed pretty loudly.
Soon though, Chris was with me, and she was visiting with her significant other, and the antics of the previous day were behind us.
At the end of the visit, while we were waiting to be escorted back across the non-covered walkway, we got to talking. We talked until we reached the parking lot, exchanged phone numbers for "next time", and I went to get into my car which happened to be haphazardly parked next to hers.
I put the key in the trunk and tried to turn it to release the trunk to no avail. My trunk sometimes gets stuck, so thankfully I have an interior trunk release. I moved to the side of my car only to find that the key wouldn't work in that door either. Concerned, I look down into the palm of my hand to find that the key I held was not a car key, but an old apartment key. That is to say it was from the lock of the apartment my former roommate and I shared. Even if I could catch a ride home to get an extra key, I wouldn't be able to get into the house!
I have AAA, but I had no way of obtaining their phone number. One of the CO's we officially do not like, suggested that I call Public Safety--the police--as they could be here quicker than AAA.
The nice lady from the night before let me borrow an umbrella for the impending thunder and lightening storm that was headed our way and bound to drench me.
I headed back inside the front doors of the prison, and made a phone call to public safety--which the front desk provided me with. They arrived within minutes to open the door, and placed what loooked like a portable blood presure cuff inside of the car. Instead of being shaped like a cuff it looked like a bean bag with a pump attached to it. All aesthetics aside, it worked to get me back into my car, only to sound off the alarm.
Naturally my car was bought used, and while is aesthetically pleasing, did not come with the hand-held remote. Typically car alarms will turn off if the key is placed in the ignition, so I worked quickly to release the trunk alarm, and put the key in the ignition to no avail.
Desperate, I look towards the police officer whom opened the door, and ask, "How do I make it stop?"
Several CO's leaving work for the day have culminated around my car. It's a circuit, you just have to unplug it," one of them says standing far back from the car I'm now convinced has become possessed. Another man is hoovering over my driver's seat trying to disconnect the circuit, finally giving up.
Just when we're about to lose all hope, the car alarm shuts itself off, and thanking everyone I get into my car.
I was already late for work and had an hour and half before I could be there plus or minus changing time. I made it all the way back to my apartment in Carrboro only to have the car alarm restart as soon as I put the car in park and reached for the door. Desperate, I tried to restart the car, place it back into drive etc. Finally giving up, and being in a hurry I left the angry car in favor of changing clothes and going to work.
At this point, I'm panicking. I can't leave my car at Red Lobster to blare and be annoying until such a time that it no longer feels the need to make it's presence known. And I don't know who to call to figure out how to make it stop! Frantic, I run into my now vibrating apartment to quickly change.
When I ran back outside, it sounded to me much like what I imagine NYC sounds like in the event of an emergency with all types of rescue personnel responding in their corresponding vehicles. It was so loud, it drew out people from OTHER buildings to stare.
Embarassed, I threw the key in the door to unlock it, and suddenly there was peace in the world again....
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Take This Job and Shove It...
Wanting to leave your job is tough enough. Having you job knowing that your leaving is downright stressful. As much as my company realized what an asset I was to them, they didn't try to win me over, or even ask me to stay. Still, I am very particular about job hopping as I think it says a lot about a person.
Everything was well and good until they sent me home 2 1/2 hours into my shift. There was a lot of secrecy going on, and all of a sudden my boss asked to talk to me near the retail products in front of a customer.
"We're absolutely dead," she began. She wasn't kidding either. "So I'm going to have to send you and Haley [a veterinary assistant] home. Char is going to stay until 11:30, and Jennifer is closing."
What could I say? It made me angry that I was the one being punished for something that was not my fault. Really, and probably mostly for leaving.
I quietly gathered my things as I simmered on the inside. How dare she! I determined that as soon as I arrived home I would call Bowman and see when I could start. If it was tomorrow, I was walking.
I immediately began making phone calls--to drs offices and the like while I waited for Jennah--the head tech at Bowman to give me a call back. When she did, I explained the situation to her, and she said I could start Monday.
Now, it was decision time. Do I return my scrubs today and take a worry-filled week off before starting my new job? Or do I head in tomorrow, head held high, and deliver the bad news that my last day would be the end of the week?
I decided that despite any backlash I would receive, it would fuck both them and me over to have off for the entire week so I went in with my head held high, and delivered my notice.
Everything was well and good until they sent me home 2 1/2 hours into my shift. There was a lot of secrecy going on, and all of a sudden my boss asked to talk to me near the retail products in front of a customer.
"We're absolutely dead," she began. She wasn't kidding either. "So I'm going to have to send you and Haley [a veterinary assistant] home. Char is going to stay until 11:30, and Jennifer is closing."
What could I say? It made me angry that I was the one being punished for something that was not my fault. Really, and probably mostly for leaving.
I quietly gathered my things as I simmered on the inside. How dare she! I determined that as soon as I arrived home I would call Bowman and see when I could start. If it was tomorrow, I was walking.
I immediately began making phone calls--to drs offices and the like while I waited for Jennah--the head tech at Bowman to give me a call back. When she did, I explained the situation to her, and she said I could start Monday.
Now, it was decision time. Do I return my scrubs today and take a worry-filled week off before starting my new job? Or do I head in tomorrow, head held high, and deliver the bad news that my last day would be the end of the week?
I decided that despite any backlash I would receive, it would fuck both them and me over to have off for the entire week so I went in with my head held high, and delivered my notice.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Change, and Chains
It hasn't even been what? a week? since my review, and already my boss is pulling me into the office to "have a talk". I wish this meeting went as smoothly as my review did, but one can never be so lucky!
It started out as a relatively normal, slow ass day. I already know that I'm looking for work elsewhere, but I don't want my job to know that. My boss strolls in at her usual 9:30ish time, and brings out "Runaway Bride" as a movie for "the clients".
Not even 10 minutes into the movie she's back out in the lobby removing the movie from the DVD player, much to my disgust.
"ARE YOU FREAKIN' KIDDING ME?" I wanted to yell? I instantly knew that one of the doctors had opposed that being in the DVD player, and that's why it was being removed before she even said a word.
The look of disgust on my face said it all, and I decided to put my head down and get back to work as they popped in a documentary known as "The Living Sea".
My personal feeling is that we're all adults. We know we're not supposed to be watching t.v. at work, and if work wasn't gettinf done then okay, pop it out, and reprimand us. But WE WEREN'T EVEN LOOKING AT THE TV!
It's so ridiculous to me.
Of course my boss can't leave well enough alone--she had to grate on me. "Isn't this beautiful?" she asks. I don't respond because I don't realize she's talking to me. So instead of letting it go, she purposely taps me on the back, and says, "Hey, Cheryl...don't you think this is pretty?"
"No," I say. "I don't think it's cool." Now maybe if I had thought the consequences through I could have sucked it up and just said "yeah" and continued on my merry way. But I'm not good at hiding the way I feel, and I refuse to lie. I don't like documentaries. Period.
She stormed off talking under her breath saying, "Oh well. You can't please everyone."
Of course this was the final blow, since before she had walked up in my space to see what we were working on. We were writing post cards for what is called Welcome Wagon. It's a list of people whom have bought a house in the area. The saying goes:
"Welcome to the area! We would love to meet you and your pets! Please stop by for a tour of our facilities! Hope to see you soon! Sincerely, The Dogwood Team."
We're hand writing this, and the mailing list hasn't even come in yet. I hate being bored even more than my mere dislike for documentaries. So when she comes up with her cheerleader peppiness and says, "Oh good I see you guys are working on these. Did the list come?"
"No, not yet," someone else answered.
I make the mistake of telling her that we had been reduced to doing post cards.
After she walked away again, she came out and demanded for me to stop what I was doing, and to come talk to her in the office where she laid into me.
She told me that she was at her breaking point, that she wasn't firing me but issued an ultimatum that either, "Stop looking bored during the downtime, or you need to find another job. Either you're committed to us, and willing to stick it out until we get busier, or you're not."
I asked if this was the first time she had seen it. She said no. I explained that I was in a funk, and I needed to snap out of it. She told me that, "I can't keep lifting you up all day every day."
I said I underderstood. She gave me until the end of the day to make a decision, although I already knew what my decision was.
I moved to North Carolina when I found out that I could take this job. I feel lied to and mislead. And I've said that to my boss's (not the office manager whom I was dealing with) face. I was told it was going to be a full-time position, but no one explained that FT was 35 hours, or that they only schedule for 35 hours. When I brought up my concerns with this in the beginning Lea told me that other people were always out/on vacation and I'd. "get plenty of hours." Too bad that never held true.
I also feel like Lea wanted me so bad that she made them sound busier than they are. I know that I cannot stand to be bored. So the first question out of my mouth at every single interview I do is, "How busy are you?"
The fact of the matter is that they didn't need that many people. We were falling over each other, and the only things to do were the bullshit busy work of cleaning the bathroom and windexing the doors.
So it shouldn't have been a surprise when 30 minutes before the end of my shift, I walked into her office and rendered my decision to look actively for another job. She said she understood, but had to put a limit of a month/month and a half on the whole thing. I said I understood and went home to actively pursue a new position.
It started out as a relatively normal, slow ass day. I already know that I'm looking for work elsewhere, but I don't want my job to know that. My boss strolls in at her usual 9:30ish time, and brings out "Runaway Bride" as a movie for "the clients".
Not even 10 minutes into the movie she's back out in the lobby removing the movie from the DVD player, much to my disgust.
"ARE YOU FREAKIN' KIDDING ME?" I wanted to yell? I instantly knew that one of the doctors had opposed that being in the DVD player, and that's why it was being removed before she even said a word.
The look of disgust on my face said it all, and I decided to put my head down and get back to work as they popped in a documentary known as "The Living Sea".
My personal feeling is that we're all adults. We know we're not supposed to be watching t.v. at work, and if work wasn't gettinf done then okay, pop it out, and reprimand us. But WE WEREN'T EVEN LOOKING AT THE TV!
It's so ridiculous to me.
Of course my boss can't leave well enough alone--she had to grate on me. "Isn't this beautiful?" she asks. I don't respond because I don't realize she's talking to me. So instead of letting it go, she purposely taps me on the back, and says, "Hey, Cheryl...don't you think this is pretty?"
"No," I say. "I don't think it's cool." Now maybe if I had thought the consequences through I could have sucked it up and just said "yeah" and continued on my merry way. But I'm not good at hiding the way I feel, and I refuse to lie. I don't like documentaries. Period.
She stormed off talking under her breath saying, "Oh well. You can't please everyone."
Of course this was the final blow, since before she had walked up in my space to see what we were working on. We were writing post cards for what is called Welcome Wagon. It's a list of people whom have bought a house in the area. The saying goes:
"Welcome to the area! We would love to meet you and your pets! Please stop by for a tour of our facilities! Hope to see you soon! Sincerely, The Dogwood Team."
We're hand writing this, and the mailing list hasn't even come in yet. I hate being bored even more than my mere dislike for documentaries. So when she comes up with her cheerleader peppiness and says, "Oh good I see you guys are working on these. Did the list come?"
"No, not yet," someone else answered.
I make the mistake of telling her that we had been reduced to doing post cards.
After she walked away again, she came out and demanded for me to stop what I was doing, and to come talk to her in the office where she laid into me.
She told me that she was at her breaking point, that she wasn't firing me but issued an ultimatum that either, "Stop looking bored during the downtime, or you need to find another job. Either you're committed to us, and willing to stick it out until we get busier, or you're not."
I asked if this was the first time she had seen it. She said no. I explained that I was in a funk, and I needed to snap out of it. She told me that, "I can't keep lifting you up all day every day."
I said I underderstood. She gave me until the end of the day to make a decision, although I already knew what my decision was.
I moved to North Carolina when I found out that I could take this job. I feel lied to and mislead. And I've said that to my boss's (not the office manager whom I was dealing with) face. I was told it was going to be a full-time position, but no one explained that FT was 35 hours, or that they only schedule for 35 hours. When I brought up my concerns with this in the beginning Lea told me that other people were always out/on vacation and I'd. "get plenty of hours." Too bad that never held true.
I also feel like Lea wanted me so bad that she made them sound busier than they are. I know that I cannot stand to be bored. So the first question out of my mouth at every single interview I do is, "How busy are you?"
The fact of the matter is that they didn't need that many people. We were falling over each other, and the only things to do were the bullshit busy work of cleaning the bathroom and windexing the doors.
So it shouldn't have been a surprise when 30 minutes before the end of my shift, I walked into her office and rendered my decision to look actively for another job. She said she understood, but had to put a limit of a month/month and a half on the whole thing. I said I understood and went home to actively pursue a new position.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
My First Review...
When I was a kid I always knew I was in trouble when my mother would call me on the phone and say, "WE'RE going to have a talk when you get home." It wasn't so much that I was going to get into trouble, as it was me spending my entire day upset knowing that a) I had done something wrong, but maybe could or could not place my finger on it, and b) that I had to wait until I got home, often after a grueling day at school spent worrying about what I was in trouble for.
This is what came to mind when my boss came to me, and told me that she wanted to have a meeting with me tomorrow (meaning today). Apparently a nervous looked crossed my face because she quickly reassured me that nothing was wrong, but I had been with the company for a few months, and we hadn't met yet to track progress etc. She had to further elaborate by saying that she wanted to tell me what the doctors had said etc.
Waiting for anything is tough. Waiting for potentially bad news is worse still. While I was in the "waiting period" my boss called me into the office to help her with some things--important managerial type things. And in my passings I noticed an open notebook with comments that seemed to pertain to me, as well as a small pile of post-it notes that definitely pertained to me. I think all hope of a good review left me at that moment.
As it turned out though, the review ended up going fairly well. She had a lot of positive things to say, and told me that she knew I was bored at work, but was composing a list of things for me to do.
"Is this a b.s. list?" I asked.
She asked what I meant by that.
"Well you know, a list of things that COULD be done, but aren't really necessary to the survivial/functionality of the clinic."
She went over the list of things with me, none of which were b.s. and I was appreciative of that.
All in all I left the review feeling pretty good. Maybe things wouldn't turn out so bad after all...
This is what came to mind when my boss came to me, and told me that she wanted to have a meeting with me tomorrow (meaning today). Apparently a nervous looked crossed my face because she quickly reassured me that nothing was wrong, but I had been with the company for a few months, and we hadn't met yet to track progress etc. She had to further elaborate by saying that she wanted to tell me what the doctors had said etc.
Waiting for anything is tough. Waiting for potentially bad news is worse still. While I was in the "waiting period" my boss called me into the office to help her with some things--important managerial type things. And in my passings I noticed an open notebook with comments that seemed to pertain to me, as well as a small pile of post-it notes that definitely pertained to me. I think all hope of a good review left me at that moment.
As it turned out though, the review ended up going fairly well. She had a lot of positive things to say, and told me that she knew I was bored at work, but was composing a list of things for me to do.
"Is this a b.s. list?" I asked.
She asked what I meant by that.
"Well you know, a list of things that COULD be done, but aren't really necessary to the survivial/functionality of the clinic."
She went over the list of things with me, none of which were b.s. and I was appreciative of that.
All in all I left the review feeling pretty good. Maybe things wouldn't turn out so bad after all...
Thursday, July 31, 2008
It Always Has To Be Drama With This Girl...
The plan this evening was for me to have a nice, relaxing dinner with my grandparents while they were both briefly and unexpectedly in town.
I met them in their hotel after a brief "Where are you again?" spiel, and after telling them all about the situation with my roommate we headed to Red Lobster.
Soon we were back at the hotel and I was fighting off tears knowing they would be leaving me the next morning after breakfast. Of course hearing my story not only prompted them to let me stay in the hotel with them (in a REAL BED! What a treat!), but also to stay over to help me move.
The next day came way to early for me, and we were off to have breakfast, they were off to get me the few things my measley brains could scramble that I needed, and I went to work with the plan that they would meet me at the apartment.
Luckily when we got there, my roommate wasn't home, so we began quickly moving things starting in the common areas down the steps to my now downstairs (directly) apartment.
My roommate came home with about 6 other people as we were finishing up moving things out. Of course they had to sit on their asses at the table, in the middle of the room, and not offer to life a finger. "No, we got it, thanks."
Before I walked out the door, the new roommate asked me about the keys. "The office told me I needed to turn it into them" I said. That was technically a lie since I had never inquired, but I certainly wasn't going to hand them over to her and then for her to say that I hadn't.
Seeing as it was almost 7 p.m., I knew the office would be closed, and my grandparents wanted me to finish moving my stuff from the storage unit, so we piled into the car without a second thought and headed down the road to my storage unit. Realizing I had left my purse in the car, and didn't know my entrance numbers for the pin pad, we turned around and had come back. I waited until I saw the office girl and the former roommate and new roommate enter the "P" building and went to my car. I was digging through my purse when the office girl called my name in the parking lot!
She asked me for the keys which I handed over, and said, "Sorry, Sarah told me I had to turn it into you" and everyone was on their way.
Except I was livid! How frickien childish can you be?! REALLY? They had to run to the office as soon as I left the apartment? What if no one had been there? And they chose to come to my apartment door while I'm trying to move things? Seriously?
Well she's gotten what she wanted, and I'm done with her, hopefully once and for all!
I met them in their hotel after a brief "Where are you again?" spiel, and after telling them all about the situation with my roommate we headed to Red Lobster.
Soon we were back at the hotel and I was fighting off tears knowing they would be leaving me the next morning after breakfast. Of course hearing my story not only prompted them to let me stay in the hotel with them (in a REAL BED! What a treat!), but also to stay over to help me move.
The next day came way to early for me, and we were off to have breakfast, they were off to get me the few things my measley brains could scramble that I needed, and I went to work with the plan that they would meet me at the apartment.
Luckily when we got there, my roommate wasn't home, so we began quickly moving things starting in the common areas down the steps to my now downstairs (directly) apartment.
My roommate came home with about 6 other people as we were finishing up moving things out. Of course they had to sit on their asses at the table, in the middle of the room, and not offer to life a finger. "No, we got it, thanks."
Before I walked out the door, the new roommate asked me about the keys. "The office told me I needed to turn it into them" I said. That was technically a lie since I had never inquired, but I certainly wasn't going to hand them over to her and then for her to say that I hadn't.
Seeing as it was almost 7 p.m., I knew the office would be closed, and my grandparents wanted me to finish moving my stuff from the storage unit, so we piled into the car without a second thought and headed down the road to my storage unit. Realizing I had left my purse in the car, and didn't know my entrance numbers for the pin pad, we turned around and had come back. I waited until I saw the office girl and the former roommate and new roommate enter the "P" building and went to my car. I was digging through my purse when the office girl called my name in the parking lot!
She asked me for the keys which I handed over, and said, "Sorry, Sarah told me I had to turn it into you" and everyone was on their way.
Except I was livid! How frickien childish can you be?! REALLY? They had to run to the office as soon as I left the apartment? What if no one had been there? And they chose to come to my apartment door while I'm trying to move things? Seriously?
Well she's gotten what she wanted, and I'm done with her, hopefully once and for all!
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
I finally found a roommate!
The last I had heard, Jesse Metcalfe look-alike had not confirmed his spot so that meant I was staying put until they found me a roommate.
So imagine my surprise when Sarah told me she had one more person she wanted me to meet. "Geez Sarah," I explained. "I'm at work now, and I won't be home until 8:30, can he meet me then?" She explained that he couldn't due to that he needed to return to Kansas City this evening so I gave her directions to my job and he would meet me there.
When Mike first walked in the door, I was on the phone, and couldn't see him. But my first impression was..."Who ya gonna call?" Yes, he looked like the dude from Ghost Busters.
We stood and we talked for a few minutes, and before saying goodbye he said to me, "Okay, well I guess let the office know what you think."
As soon as he left, I called Sarah back and said that things would be fine. I move in this weekend.
So imagine my surprise when Sarah told me she had one more person she wanted me to meet. "Geez Sarah," I explained. "I'm at work now, and I won't be home until 8:30, can he meet me then?" She explained that he couldn't due to that he needed to return to Kansas City this evening so I gave her directions to my job and he would meet me there.
When Mike first walked in the door, I was on the phone, and couldn't see him. But my first impression was..."Who ya gonna call?" Yes, he looked like the dude from Ghost Busters.
We stood and we talked for a few minutes, and before saying goodbye he said to me, "Okay, well I guess let the office know what you think."
As soon as he left, I called Sarah back and said that things would be fine. I move in this weekend.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Any Day Now...
As it turns out daddy does not approve of said boy living with girl before marriage. I Tarzan You Jane is all I can muster in response to THAT.
The good news is that Sarah always delivers the bad news followed by the good news. It's kind of like a three-course meal: survive the 2nd course and you make it to dessert.
The good news is that she has another prospective boy roomie lined up. And the first words out her mouth was, "Girl, he is FINE". I laughed. I laughed long and hard. Until I met him. Jesse Metcalf move over, this boy can come mow my lawn (er that sounds dirty doesn't it?) anyday. If you watch Desperate Housewives, you know what I mean!
We walked and talked for a long time. Sure he's cute, but he's also young (20), and has a 20 year old mentality about things. Like partying and staying up late, and having people over.
Ultimately though we decided everything would be fine for us to move in together. (And he has furniture to boot!) Sarah gave me a big hug as if I just found the boy I was going to marry or I don't know a million dollars. I told her to make sure it was what he really wanted, and to let me know before scooting out.
Waiting to hear any day now...
The good news is that Sarah always delivers the bad news followed by the good news. It's kind of like a three-course meal: survive the 2nd course and you make it to dessert.
The good news is that she has another prospective boy roomie lined up. And the first words out her mouth was, "Girl, he is FINE". I laughed. I laughed long and hard. Until I met him. Jesse Metcalf move over, this boy can come mow my lawn (er that sounds dirty doesn't it?) anyday. If you watch Desperate Housewives, you know what I mean!
We walked and talked for a long time. Sure he's cute, but he's also young (20), and has a 20 year old mentality about things. Like partying and staying up late, and having people over.
Ultimately though we decided everything would be fine for us to move in together. (And he has furniture to boot!) Sarah gave me a big hug as if I just found the boy I was going to marry or I don't know a million dollars. I told her to make sure it was what he really wanted, and to let me know before scooting out.
Waiting to hear any day now...
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