One of those days

You ever have one of those days when you wake up and you just know you should stay in bed? Well, today was one of those.

I woke up and thought, "I should email my boss and tell him him I'll work Friday in lieu of today and promptly go back to sleep." But no, I told myself I would rather be off on Friday. I can hold out, be strong, blah-blah-blah.

I'm trying to wash my hair less to make it all healthy, with this dry shampoo stuff it doesn't look half bad. I put it in a ponytail as it is day three and all, and off to work I went after noticing that the Barbie who highlighted my hair missed toning a piece by my ear leaving a blonde streak. Never trust a Barbie.

Everything was going fine until one of Work Guy's friends, standing on the other side of my cube addresses a short dark haired girl who does not work with us. Instantly I knew. It was the new girlfriend. At my work. Here to see my ex, her current boyfriend. She was right in front of me. Now friends with the people I used to be friends with. Probably meeting up to eat at the same sushi place he used to take me....

My whole body froze but I typed diligently at my computer. I would not look around. I would not acknowledge that I realized who she was or who she was here to see. Why? Why did he have to have her come into work? Does she not have a cell phone he could call her on to meet outside?

My stomach was in knots and I was fairly certain my stupid heart was breaking all over again. This is karma biting me in the ass all over again for having been such an awful girlfriend to every guy I ever dated. I was going to vomit.

I texted Ange. My lifeline.

Me: I think I am having a heart attack. Work Guy had his new girlfriend come visit him at work.

Ange: Quit working at that fuckin place and I am going to fuckin strangle him.

I asked the girl sitting next to me to do a recon to make sure they left so I could go to the break room to make my lunch. It would be my luck that the royal douche bag would invite her to eat lunch with him here. She was great too...

"Who? That ugly bitch he brought to the Christmas Party?"

"She isn't ugly!"

"God, you're a nice person. You're always supposed to say they're ugly!"

But it wasn't Work Guy's new girl's fault. It was mine for ever having dated him. I continued to feel like shit through out the day. I emailed Chloe about the new Match.com guy I was texting with and mentioned feeling low about something I didn't want to write. She knew already and had hoped I hadn't seen. She agreed with Ange, I need to work elsewhere if I am ever going to heal this gaping hole.

The day gets better!

As I started to calm down I thought some warm tea would help.
I managed to spill an entire cup of tea into my lap, down the back side of my leg, through my boots and all over my desk. In front of regional managers. And just in case they might not have noticed, I yelled out "Shit!" as well. One rushed to get paper towels to sop up my desk, but ignored the fact I needed more to clean myself. I sat there soaking for 30 minutes, afraid to move.

Chloe finally came over to walk behind me to the bathroom so people wouldn't notice my wet pants. She told me it wasn't noticeable, but my jeans and boots worked wonders for my ass. Such good friends today.

What is wrong with me! Seriously. When you get the feeling you should not go to work, stay in bed. If you don't heed this warning it will only lead to a beer drinking pity-party in lieu of yoga later.

Little to report

I am boring. No dating. Baby tries to entice me but after a three week no see, I'm sure he's bored. Match.com provides hat wearing fathers.

Called the EX a few nights ago. Was rubbing Cutter's belly and wanted to talk to him. Realized after he didn't answer that we've been broken up four years now. He lives in Colorado. Last time I talked to him was to tell him the cat died and he wasn't pleased to hear from me.

Learned that work guy encouraged work to hire a hostess he hit on. She's 20 and blonde. Sits two rows over.

This, my friends, is what we call a rut.

Quiet Life

The last text I received from Insurance Guy was on Friday before Easter. Five days later, I got one asking if I thought we should continue seeing each other. This guy is very nice, but there is nothing there. He likes to talk about TV shows and barely kissed me. I rambled to keep our conversations going. Nice guy, but obviously not a match despite the fact we met on Match.com.

His response to my text that we really didn't have a connection was that he felt the same, was disappointed but wished me well. It was the most clean cut, easy dissolution of going out I have ever experienced. Finally! There are normal people in the world! Maybe I'm getting closer.

On the other hand... Maybe not.

The Baby is still texting me despite my very pointed insistence we will not date and I do not just want to Cougar about.

Sitting on my patio typing I hear a ping and discover he's IM-ing me via Facebook. For a startled moment I check to see sticker in front of my computer camera is in place. I always fear they can see me when IM pops up. Is it like Skype? I don't know what it is...

So, I'm going back and forth with pointless computer style texting with the Baby when Ange calls. When she starts questioning about the constant beeping I tell her Jacob is Facebooking me. She dissolves into giggles followed by snarky remarks on his intentions for my virtue.

Jacob IM's that he sent me a pic. He wants me to send a pic. I tell Ange and she starts all over again. But really? If you're on my Facebook just look at those pictures! Why do I have to send you one taken now when I'm in my pjs, hair all tangled and no make-up? Get real.

He says he's texted me a pic of himself he took earlier in the day. I put Ange on speaker so I can open the text. There he is. The pic is taken in the bathroom mirror, another sign of his age. He's holding up his phone, smirking. TOPLESS.

Me: and you're topless

Jacob: shirtless. you don't like it?

Me: I like it, but still, you're topless.

Jacob: ;-)

Ange is screaming in laughter so I forward it to her. I feel a little dishonest doing this but hey, don't send a topless pic of yourself to someone you are not legally bound to unless you don't mind having it shared. Those are the rules. That is why I have never sent a nudey pic to anyone, ever. Plus, I really don't believe anyone needs to see that from in the light of day. Pictures are just so lasting.

Ange is uncontrollable, she wants to forward the pic to her mother but can't figure out how. She's as technologically defunct as I am, apparently.

Jacob is asking to hang out every day. You would think he would get tired and find a new toy. I haven't seen him in two weeks, and don't plan on changing that any time soon.

Me: still don't understand why we are communicating like this if we aren't going to date

J: i don't see the harm in it

Me: of course you don't

J: why do you say that?

Me: only because we already talked about it and you didn't mind. nothing bad

J: is it

ok with you?

Me: i think you're very nice, but yeah it does kind of other me. i really do want to meet someone to have a relationship with, not just play around anymore

J: i completely understand. Is it ok that we play around till you find that?

Me: please define play around

i'm inclined to think it is not such a good idea though

J: it shouldn't mean that you shouldn't have some fun

i think of playing around as in enjoying each other's company whether that be out for a drink, hanging at home

Me: like being friends?

J: that, perhaps more at times as long as both parties are willing but yea. i def want to be friends

Me: the thing that electronic communication lacks the most is the ability to roll eyes at the first half of that response :-). I would like to be friends with you too, but perhaps the flirty stuff better go away seeing as we both want different things.

J: haha

kk

I concede to your terms :)txt me.

gtg do taxes :/

But he still texts. Offers to go to yoga with me even though he isn't flexible. Like I would ever allow a hot guy to see me sweat 85,000 gallons of water in a tight fitting outfit while contorting in strange uncomfortable positions. That is what the bedroom is for. With the lights OFF.

He's even Facebooking me right now, like he knew I was on and writing about our correspondence. Bleep, there he is. Telling me about his night. Interjecting how he'd rather have hung out with me. Well, sorry Baby. Saturday is book, beer, pizza, sweats night. Sacred.

Bleep, he was at a club last night. Didn't dance for fear he would embarrass himself. Bleep, plus he was thinking of me.

Me: Is there an eye rolling icon? I really must research this.

Still

This weekend was Easter. My sister and brother-in-law flew into town late Thursday and stayed for the whole weekend. Pressuring me to bake cookies and such. It was lovely. My stomach is now a balloon.

The perfection of the weekend was overshadowed by the memory of last year when I was with Work Guy off in the opulent California meeting his family, riding in a dingy gazing at mansions. Someplace I desperately didn't feel I belonged. I couldn't help but think as I was driving home with my family Thursday night how last year I'd been in Newport on the side of the house making love listening to water lap in the bay. Getting scared that a boat would see us, running inside to take up where we left off. Or Sunday as I was cleaning offices, how uncomfortable I felt at the expensive country club watching heiresses trot around in sunhats with their metro sexual cohorts in lavender linen suits, only later to go back to the hotel and be taken passionately against a wall. Surely, history was repeating itself for him. Only with someone else. I'm sure he wasn't remembering.

Meanwhile, I sat on the patio texting the baby in front of my sister. He was bummed because it was overcast and he had really wanted to lay out to improve his tan. Meghan snorted.

I told her I wasn't really interested in him. Oh, flattered and elated someone was interested. But he wasn't really interested in me.

Funny how it all sometimes comes together. I fell in love with Work Guy, because he genuinely acted like he loved me. With all my imperfections he could look at me and take my breath away. I still wonder if I had fucked it all up by being scared, or if he simply didn't have the capacity to wait. If love was so permanent to me and transitory for him. Not that it matters, but as far as moving on I suppose it might.

I have also thought a lot about The Principal lately. Missing the little things which had led me to love him. There is always that if.... If I had been more patient or demanding or.... But that would not have changed the fact that he wanted me to fit in his life. Not partner in mine.

This weekend I saw a family friend who tried to date me a couple years ago, right before I met The Principal. Our families have been friends for years, my sister even dated his brother in high school. While his eyes were the same he kept his distance. He wanted to date me a month before he was leaving the country, spending his time between Idaho and South America with a month of Arizona in between. I had been connected to him, enchanted a little bit. He didn't understand why I would be concerned with his leaving. He would always come back and I could come to visit. Ha. I told him no. Then missed him desperately when he'd left. When he returned, he looked down his nose at me for dating The Principal. Now he communicates with my sister and treats me like a stranger.

BP Facebooked me today. I really need to get rid of the evil social network. "How are you? What have you been up to?" Go fuck yourself.

So, what is the recipe for love? Does it have to be easy? Do you just meet the right person and click? Or are some people just better off alone? I need to stop with the romance novels. They make you think the one you love will be willing to give up more than they would ever ask of you, and you would do so in return.

Not taking No

Well, Ange burst my little bubble. I told her I was seeing the baby aka Jacob again on Tuesday. Her response: He's too young to give you anything you need, except an ego boost. And damn her she was right.

I put it to the baby as bluntly as I could. There is no point in us dating when I want serious things and he just wants somebody to have fun with. I have wasted years just having fun with guys. I'm ready for a serious lasting, grown up marriage fest. His response: Can we still hang out? Is it bad that he still wants to kiss me?

In my younger years I was a wild and crazy kid. It wouldn't have mattered if I was going to date this guy or even if I was ever going to see him again. I would have kissed him the first time we met up just to see if I could, see how it was, for the excitement of it all.

I felt like a virgin telling him it wasn't fair to kiss people and not be looking for something more. Slowly, I am turning into someone else. But I feel it. The what the hell decisions of my past never made me happy. Usually I ended up utterly embarrassed and shaking my head the next day unbelieving I chose to be that stupid. His response: He's attracted to me and wouldn't mind us kissing in the meantime. He won't get attached, if that's what I'm worried about.

Holy fuck. Ange explained it in layman's terms to me: He just wants to put his p in my v. I cackled out loud to that text. She's the greatest.

Jacob and I were going to hang out as friends still on Tuesday, with him having every intention of kissing me. As Ange put it, divine intervention gave me a cold. I was relegated to the couch filling tissues with yellow snot instead of making out with the Tom Cruise-Taylor Lautner hybrid. Sigh. It was fate.

So, the baby keeps texting me, keeps pursuing. I tell him he's hot and surely has a gaggle of girls to make out with. He says he doesn't have anyone interested in him. Doesn't think he's hot. Was an unattractive kid. Good lord, am I dating a whiny super model? I had discovered him on Facebook so I pointed out that he couldn't think himself too unattractive if he has a shirtless background on his page. His response: Found me did you?

Ugh. Now we're Facebook friends. And the oldtimer in me is too stubborn to ask why the youngsters post things like #feelinfresherthanapeppermint. Pound sign and words all run together? Why? Why?

Dreams

Dreams have always meant too much to me. I remember mine the next day and for years to come. They're clear to me as movies, so clear that sometimes I wake feeling as if it had truly happened. Most times I realize I'm dreaming during it and observe. My most memorable dreams are of green water, but that's a different story.

When Work Guy first was pursuing me I dreamt of him one night when I lay beside the Principal. In my dream I was in bed alone, though it could have been any room, and so dark. All I saw was his face hovering over me. He was wearing a light blue baseball hat. He smiled and made to leave but I reached up and curved my hand around the back of his head, through his hair. So gently, I pulled his face to mine and kissed his lips. To keep him. That was it, but it was haunting. He had that exact hat on the night I forced him to meet with me after he broke my heart.

Through out our relationship I had a recurring dream about showing up at his door. His roommate would answer and give me a dirty look. I would ask for Work Guy. He would come up behind the door and stare at me. This was always the cliff hanger. The dream went one of two ways. 1) Work Guy would pause staring at me with an unreadable look which could be interpreted as angry, lost, stunned, then he would run forward, crush me against his chest and take me inside the house. 2) He would pause to stare at me with before mentioned look before demanding to know why I was there. I was not welcome.

Last night I dreamt I was with a man. No one in particular, but he was important. The object of my affection. But I never really saw him. He gave me a rope of a necklace. It was pinkish, strong and made of braided heart-flesh. It made me think of heart strings while I was dreaming it, but it was not very stretchy. He tied it around my neck, securing each end with black thread causing the ends to ball together like a fist. It was weighty. I was in awe. It was beautiful and he loved me.

It occurred to me as I kissed him in thank you that I was naked. The room had a rosy warm glow and I was pulsating with need for him. I just needed to be with him, have everything right then. He kissed me back but kept resisting slightly to say "sign it". Then that strange thing that happens to a dreams timeline interfered, confusing me. His wife was in the room. She didn't care what we were doing as long as I signed something which said I would marry him. He was trying to get me to sign something that said I wouldn't. And then it would reverse.

All I wanted, or needed, was to make love with him. Yet all I had to do was sign. As much as I ached, I would not yield. Not with any determination but more like I didn't care. It wasn't an uncomfortable sensation, though it should have been. In another moment I was trying to take the necklace off. I couldn't unravel the thread because it just dug deeper into the heart flesh. I tried yanking it up and down to break it off but it was too strong. Frenzied, frightened I tried harder to remove it. I ended up choking myself with its weight.

Dating Again

Jacob texts me every day. Insurance Guy texts me almost every other evening. They want to go out again. My once peaceful weeks are being abducted by friends and dates. Should be excited, but it only makes me tired.

Jacob is too young. Insurance Guy reminds me too much of the stand-offish Principal. It all feels pointless and too soon.

After much back and forth about where to meet and what to do in which the youngster kept replying "I'm up for anything" I agreed to meet Jacob for a couple beers Thursday night at a local sports bar. After work I rushed home to the dogs and realized I had a shortage of clean clothes to wear on this second date. With a shrug, I pulled on my comfy Public Enemy T-shirt, baggy jeans and faded Converse. It doesn't really matter what I look like.... He's easy to talk to and we ended up sitting around for two and a half hours chatting. I was again reminded of his awkward gait as he walked me to my car. We hugged, he half kissed my hair/cheek again and we parted ways. I hoped it was the end of that.

Saturday, I had planned to meet up with Insurance Guy. Last time we went out he had texted me after about wanting to have kissed me. So I pretty much knew that would be resurfacing later in the evening. Date jeans looked good, black boots, tight tank top and movie star hair. We walked around the busy downtown Chandler area while I bitched about wanting to turn into pyro-Carrie at work. Dinner was mostly me talking, like usual, at a micro-brewery. We walked around some more, talked about the townhouse he bought there and would be able to move into in a few months.

He asked if I wanted to hang out more.... I declined. It was only ten o'clock but we had run out of things to talk about and I was ready to go home and read a book. He walked me back to the parking garage, we said our goodbyes and hugged. Insurance Guy looked at me expectantly then asked if he could have a kiss. I giggled at the absurdity of it (and I hate giggling). I leaned in and kissed him. It was just a peck. He didn't deepen the kiss. I leaned away, we smiled, I tried again for something more. We just pecked at each other. Me leaning in more, his hand rested lightly on my back like he was just humoring my attempts. I stepped back and we laughed. He walked away and waved.

Back in my car I refused to shake my head in case he could see. What the hell was that? I thought he was interested but there was nothing there and I searched. I texted Jacob who had been trying to see what I was doing all evening. Then bought dog food for the starving puppies.

Jacob wanted me to go out with him on Mill. I responded with "Oh Lord No." I had been too old for Mill Ave 5 years ago. I am ancient now. Insurance Guy texted that he had another great evening and couldn't wait to see me again. Really? Could have fooled me. I responded simply "Me too."

Sitting on my patio with a beer, the dogs and re-reading the magical words of Sarah Addison Allen I resolved that while I was flattered by the attention of both men, neither were right for me. I need to be drawn to someone, not just treading water until someone more interesting swam by.

Screw dating. I'm destined to become a morally defunct nun.