Rocking Your World and Then Some

Has this been the longest I've gone without blogging? I don't remember anymore. I swear to you, brain cells are dying off quickly as I type. There is a good reason for that and let's just say 34 has, well, kinda sucked. So much so that I've decided to devote an entirely new blog to that reason, over here.

I don't plan on completely abandoning this blog, but writing will be a bit sparser for the next half year to year. This blog is still my baby, and I'll update with stories and random thoughts as I see fit. In the meantime, as the new year comes upon us, I'll have to come up with new resolutions! Whoo hoo... I tend to do them around March but maybe this year I'll do them on time.

My latest thoughts as the bf and I have a lovely post Christmas spat over yet another lame reason... we have these crazy neighbors who don't seem to care that there's no sound proofing between our adjoining bathrooms. They have no qualms about cursing at each other horribly and calling each other names when they fight (which is at least once a week or more). I believe there were objects thrown near someone's head once. So much negativity. We often wonder when something bad will really happen. Often times, I want to leave an anonymous note to the she-neighbor and say "You can do better. Leave him." Or sometimes, the bf gets really fed up and just wants to yell "Shut the F UP!!! We can HEAR YOU!"

On the flip side, the bf and I are so paranoid about them hearing us, we're very quiet. Even when arguing. Or at least I think so. At least there's no obscenities hurled at each other. Even so, I wonder if they can hear us. And I wonder if they think the same things, like "why are those people together?!" God I hope not.

Instead Of Greener Grass, Maybe It Might Be Browner, Yuckier Grass?

The bf and I still bicker. Mostly over little stupid things. New things. Sometimes big things. Often cliched coupley things. Then there are the unique things only to us. Being that we're both neurotic, stubborn, impassioned people, it makes for some drama.

The other week as I was driving home from visiting the godchildren, I put on an old Garbage CD for the long drive and "A Cup of Coffee" came on.


This was the song to describe the utter depths of despair I felt during the dark periods of pining over The Boy. The days of crying on my living room room in the afternoon. And then I thought, hey things could be a lot worse. At least, I'm not going through THAT anymore. At least THIS boy loves me back. Hindsight. 20/20. Blah blah blah...

New Year's Day

Is it a bad omen for the new year if you start it off crying in bed, fighting with your bf, walking off into the night by yourself in a strange city, and having your first dinner of 2009 by yourself at a restaurant? At least I had a hearty meal and glass of wine at a lovely Italian restaurant down the street. Not to mention a virtual dinner companion via google talk with a friend on my new iphone. See, at least I got an iphone for xmas 2008 and it's definitely good for something, like company at dinner!

This year frightens me more than ever because 1) I plan on giving notice at work this month. 2) I have no idea when and where I'll be working. 3) If we don't kill each other first, the bf and I plan on moving in together sometime this year. Where or when, again I have no idea. 4) I don't when or if I'll get to travel out of the country yet again.

The therapist tells me to only focus on the positive and the best case scenario and it will come. I can see it, especially if I squint really really hard. But deep down, uncertainty scares me the way Freddy Krueger terrorizes people in their sleep. And it's going to take a hell of a lot more than 4 months of therapy to shake that fear.

New Year's Eve

I thought new year's eve of 2007 might have been one of the worst. We were supposed to go to Disneyland. Instead I woke up, didn't hear from the bf until nearly noon, worried sick and wondering what the hell was going on. By the time he had called, I wanted to strangle him because I was so relieved he was ok. Turns out eh, he didn't really want to go and didn't hear his phone because it was on vibrate.

Ah, those were the days. When we were still 2 months in and he didn't understand how truly neurotic I could be. It's a year and two months now and things have gotten slightly better. Now I have new and better reasons to strangle him every week.

For new year's eve 2008, we decided to drive up to Flobelly's place to get away from LA and take in some snowboarding. Except the day before we left, he was DETERMINED to get all new gear. And a new printer/scanner. And an hour before we were supposed to be on the road, it was of utmost importance that he hook up said printer/scanner after picking it up that morning. After running 5 other errands already.

And when I finally said no, there's no more time, this is ridiculous, he pouted. And lashed out. And I cried.

When we got onto the road grudgingly, (both in silence) the freeway had been closed down halfway there and we had a detour that added an extra hour or two to our original three hour drive. Our lunch was Carl's Jr. Dinner, Taco Bell. I wasn't so much ending 2008 with a bang more so than a loud fart.

When we finally got there, he passed out immediately while I managed to have a scrumptious home cooked second dinner with Flobelly, her husband and their neighbors. We barely made it to midnight.

So long 2008, it's been good, it's been bad, it's definitely been tumultuous, and no doubt momentous. Pfffffttttttt.

Crybaby and Doctors

Next year has got to be better. I know it. Or else I'm fleeing to Paris or some remote island.

In this year I've cried more than I ever had in my entire life. Maybe infant stages excluded because I don't remember that and I'm sure it was entirely warranted as a means of communication for basic survival needs. I never used to cry at anything. Steel Magnolias? Nada. Joy Luck Club. Meh. Unless I was in pain or being yelled at by my parents, I rarely cried.

Now, I'm a crybaby. Like those kids that cried at everything. You look at them cross-eyed and they cried. That's me. And it's exhausting and frustrating. I need to fix this.

In other news, part of the exhaustion, aside from the evilness of certain work bosses, has to do with this past week's parade of doctor's visits.

Tuesday - travel to the vortex of hell (Cedar Sinai in West Hollywood) to accompany the bf to the neurologist. Where the doctor keeps us waiting for an hour and tells us that as a precaution, I need to drive the bf around for the foreseeable future until they straighten out his meds. We also need to come back to vortex of hell for his EEG. Sigh.

Wednesday - took the day off to squeeze in 5 appointments. Of course it's pouring rain all day and I need to haul myself out to Pasadena and surrounding areas.
9am - Drop off bf at work
11am - dentist
Squeeze in some lunch and xmas shopping.
1:30 - podiatrist consult for my foot orthotics
2:15 - they can squeeze me in at the orthotics place. Dart over there to get casts of my feet.
3:15 - dermatologist. Where she keeps me waiting for 45 minutes.
4:00 - CRAP. I need to go back to vortex of hell (Cedar Sinai in West Hollywood) to pick up bf's glasses since he absent- mindedly left them there the day before. Need to get there by 4:30-5 before they close.
4:20 - Run out of dermatologist's office with her makeshift map drawn on a giant wadded up piece of tissue paper they use on the beds. Shortcut turns out to be awesome.
5pm - Run into the offices at the vortex of hell just as the assistants are walking out and manage to get bf's glasses. Minus a few years off my life from the drive. I'm gonna glue them to his head. Of course parking charges me four bucks anyway.
6pm - Get groceries, get home, sit down for a bit before I have to pick up the bf from work.

This must be how stay at home moms feel like - running around picking people up, dropping them off, running errands, prepping for dinner... I'm wiped.

Thursday - Work is nuts. All of a sudden, 6pm, my little bro at work, grabs me while clutching his heart and says call an ambulance. I think something's wrong. He's only 25!!! I think it's a panic attack but to be safe, once his heart rate slows back down, work excuses me to take him to the ER. I rush him to Urgent Care, then the ER in Santa Monica (though there is a hospital across the street, gotta schlep over to SM since THAT'S where our HMO allows us to go. Sheesh.) Stay with the poor guy till 9:30 as they run tests and give him an IV drip. All in all, a good bonding experience as we end the night with some dinner after he's discharged as ok. And the fools at work keep thanking me and saying it's so nice of me to do that. Whatever. I would have done it anyway. Like I would ever choose work over friends.

Whoops, the bf is stranded. I'm calling and calling each hour since there's no reception in the ER, and he never picks up or calls back. Great. Now I have to worry and be frantic that the fool decided to walk the 5 miles home along Venice Bl at night. It's one of those things where he better be ok, otherwise I'm gonna strangle him. Finally call his seatmate buddy and the guy chuckles and tells me he gave the bf a ride home - he didn't call you? ARGH!

Anyway, it's 5 more days till Christmas and I have yet to be infused with the holiday spirit. I think I've finished my shopping. Sent out my cards. Going to a party tonight. But man my head is numb. My face hurts from the crying and the dryness of my heater. And I miss my friends and most importantly, my sanity. THAT'S what I want for Christmas. Sanity. and maybe an Iphone.

Things I've Found to Be True

Some are cliches, some are bits of advice from friends, and others are just so.

- Things can only get better once you hit rock bottom
- There is no such thing as loyalty from companies to their employees
- A bad job situation can destroy your self worth if you let it
- Relationships are f***ing hard work
- Boyfriends may come and go, but your friends will always be there for you
- No one can fix you except yourself

New Song to Fit the Mood

This week, Wavy kindly pointed out Leona Lewis's follow up song "Better in Time." I couldn't get enough of her first single "Bleeding Love" especially as I was feeling the same kind of frustration with the bf. In this new song, it's like the "everything will be ok" response to her first song (though they did have different songwriters.)

LEONA LEWIS - BETTER IN TIME (VIDEO)
Uploaded by AcerBen

It's like Madonna's "You'll See" sequel to her other song "Take A Bow." I love narratives in song.

Anyway, this song has been on repeat at work and though the melody feels upbeat, and the message is pretty strong and positive, the song actually makes me quite sad. Probably because I'm hoping that life won't imitate art.

Just A Girl

Oh demented fairy godmother, I just realized your hand in all of this. I remembered that not so long ago, I used to wish that I were less of the tomboyish sort, less the rational buddy and longed for a boy tough enough to make me feel more like a girl. And, well, of course I got it.

Now, I break into tears if say rose petals start falling to the ground or something equally ridiculous... and I am completely irrational when it comes to the bf. And that bf? Not one bit of metrosexual in him. He's totally a guy's guy. Rough around the edges. Blunt as all hell with no self-censoring mechanism in his head. Tries so hard to pay for everything and take care of me even if he doesn't quite know how. And does all those stupid insensitive things like forgetting to call back, not waiting for me to eat together or watch a film, or forgetting to follow up on plans he suggested.

At the end of the day, it's not all bad. For better or worse, the bf makes me feel like such a girly girl whether he tells me I'm beautiful or when he's making me cry because he did something completely inconsiderate. Many of my guy friends have drifted apart from me now that they have their own wives and girlfriends and that feeling of being "just one of the guys" doesn't happen quite as often anymore. At work, I'm almost positive that everyone sees me as an actual girl and not the tomboy buddy I once was.

As I read through some old entries and texts from the beginning of the relationship, I complained to Wavy about how the bf obviously doesn't try as hard anymore or drop everything including time from work just to see me. "Can you believe you used to call him Captain Attentive?" I asked.

"That, my dear, is a universal problem," replied Wavy. And just like that, I'm now just another girl complaining about a boy and wondering "when did I become like this?"

Oh Boy Part 2

I meant to follow up this first post with another one immediately the day after. And then things kept going up and down like a roller coaster or the Hollywood Tower of Terror Ride at California Adventure. I never knew when to write - when things were going really well or when things sucked. Which changes week by week, day by day. Go figure.

It's been nearly six months and frequently, I'm still stunned. Milestones are knocking me on the head left and right.

1) Told the parents

A couple of weeks ago, he came with me for my dentist appointment. The dentist and the dental hygienist have known me since I was ten and I realized my mom would murder me if she heard from our dentist about the bf before she heard about it from me. So after delaying the inevitable, I casually mentioned him over dinner and the parents took it well without asking more then a dozen questions and a request for a picture.

Flobelly, a fellow Cantonese chick married to a sweet white boy from Ohio (or is it Iowa? I swear I always get those mixed up) put it into perspective for me before I spilled the beans. She merely said "it only gets harder. That will be the easiest part. Wait till the parents meet him and then both parents meet. Awkward...." Eek.

2) Met his family and friends

The trip up north to Seattle was an eye opening experience in many ways. But the most important thing is that I met nearly all of his friends, including his best friend and his mom. So daunting considering that between them both, they've met everyone he's ever brought around. Including the ex-wife and apparently some girl who announced she was Wiccan. Huh.

3) Slowly but surely, we're being outed to the work peeps

Work is hard enough as it is, but having a relationship with someone you work with adds a new dimension of complexity. At first I was really stressed about the fact that technically he reports to me in a way, and that legally that was a big no-no. However, then I realized our company is pretty informal, that's there's like five couples already and the only person who would try to use this against me is the Tool. And even then I pride myself on being completely professional throughout the years, no matter who my work friends were or what stupid guy was treating me poorly. The Tool has got nothing on me.

Plus when the bf let slip to his seatmate that we went up to Seattle together, then mistakenly IMed his seatmate instead of me to give me the heads up, he had to go, "well, now you know." And our coworker merely responded, "yeah, it was no secret." It's almost liberating.

So, the families know. The friends know. The work folks know. Hell, my dentist and the dental hygienist knows. They even gave him a toothbrush. And this sounds kinda bad, but all I can think of is man, if this doesn't work out it is gonna be hell to disentangle and shake off.

Oh Boy - Part One

It's been a long time coming. I've avoided talking about it because I really didn't know what to say. I'm not one to gush over a boyfriend and make everyone gag. Nor did I want to make this a place where I'd publicly complain about his quirks and our ups and downs. But I guess if I like to write about the stuff in my life, well he's been occupying a big fat chunk of real estate in it.

I was rereading some entries from the latter half of last year, particularly in the summer, and unfortunately, my first thought was to start this entry with "Stupid ass boy, I was so darn happy and angst-less for a good long stretch till he came along."

Oops. That's no good. But this week has been particularly hard. And though 1) this is a serious relationship, 2) it's the first serious relationship I've been in, and 3) it's already the longest I've ever dated anybody, I'm still wondering, how did I get here? How are we ever going to resolve our vast differences considering we are POLAR OPPOSITES on about everything I can possibly think of? We're already averaging what Wavy calls our "state of the union" talks about every other week if not more. And though every single one of my dear girl friends assure me this is normal early relationship stuff and constantly tell me things sound fine, they don't FEEL fine. I am tired. I don't want to continously readjust my expectations lower and lower until I just don't have them anymore or don't care. Nor do I want to be that bitchy demanding girlfriend because I know that doesn't work either.

I was looking at this entry about him and asked myself those questions again.
If I stopped this thing right now, would I be an a-hole? Yes.
If he were to suddenly go away, would I still be ok? No, yes, maybe. I don't know!!!!! Probably not but I'll survive anyway, goddammit!!!!!

Yeah, the tide seemed to have turned at the start of the new year. Suddenly, I was waist deep in this thing and it was capable of causing me to spontaneously burst into tears at times of stress and yuckiness. And naturally, that lovely courting phase where he was super attentive and promised to go to whatever I asked him to came to a standstill. I think perhaps, the icky middle has arrived!

Oh Blog, How I've Missed You...

You know how something's got to give? So sleeping, reading, and writing seem to have given way to spending more time with this boy. And of course it doesn't help that work has once again become murderously insane at least for this month and next. And I sure as hell won't give up time with my friends.

So there we have it.

Not enough time in the day, nor energy to do everything I want to do. I'm already restless and itching to travel to my next destination...

Oh What Tangled Webs We Weave

I realized that this holiday week will be the longest time that this latest boy and I have spent apart since we started dating. And though I kinda miss him and his silly mug, I feel ok about it. Whew.

I still have minor freak outs along the way. I still ask myself every so often if I'd be ok if he suddenly went away. (Yes, I think so.) And I still wonder where this will go and whether I'll strangle him from his horrible sense of time management and tardiness or if I'll learn to just roll with it.

What I have decided though, are things that I will never ever tell him about - at least in the foreseeable future:

• that the person I was in love with and completely destroyed over a couple years ago is one of his closest friends - did I mention that he told a very stunned boy-who-was-the-one about us already? It would have been interesting to see his reaction in person. If I wasn't still ignoring his IM's and emails.
  
• that the last person I dated is his supervisor on this project we're all working on together. I'm the producer on it. Which makes Mr. DD and me his bosses. Kinda.
  
• Obviously, this blog, detailing all my adventures in fun details. But he doesn't like to read anyway, so I might be safe.

A Boy

Because life is such that everything is happening at once or nothing at all, there is also a boy to throw into the mix of all the illnesses, the concerts, and overall life events. A boy I mentioned before, whom Wavy has given the new nickname of Captain Attentive instead of Captain 3X. A boy who somehow has already seen me at my worse, sick in my pajamas wrapped in a blanket, raspy voice and all, and brings me vitamins, candy, and a magazine. And still keeps calling. A boy who is happy to go anywhere I drag him to, whether that is a concert for musicians he's never heard of or shopping for a birthday gift for my brother.

It kinda freaks me out.

Earlier this month, I flip-flopped everyday on how much I liked this boy, whether it was even viable (with aforementioned three strikes) and would ask myself questions such as:
If I stopped this thing right now, would I be an a-hole? Yes.
If he were to suddenly go away, would I still be ok? Yes.

Yeah, I've got issues. Some that I didn't even realize I had until now. Trust issues. Check. Abandonment issues. Check.

I was just telling friends how much I was enjoying life lately, being single, not having any boy angst plague me for the past several months. Overall, I've been happy and I can't remember the last depressed spell I've had. I know it can't stay that way forever, but I was hoping I could at least enjoy it a teensy bit longer.

It's the age old cliched fear of being hurt and let down. It floods my brain. Why is this boy so nice to me? He barely knows me. He can't possibly keep this up. This endless stream of considerateness. It's the fear that this only lasts at the beginning before the "icky middle" comes along. The fear that it's all just talk, and this nice guy thing? It's just a front. Mr. DD and that boy who was the one but stomped on my heart sure did a number on me. Because the biggest fear? What if he stops liking me after I've really fallen hard?

It's still too early to tell where this will go, though I see the difficulty of extricating myself already. Could get messy, could be fun.

A Month of Concerts

I miss writing. But perhaps it's a good sign that I've been too busy living my life rather than writing about it. That being said, time has been sucked up by work (of course), a new Facebook addiction, tons of concerts, and the continuing celebration of birthday dinners.

Last night, Polar Opposite, Jigaho, a group of other friends and I hit up the Rilo Kiley concert. The Santa Monica Civic Auditorium doesn't have the best acoustics but Jenny Lewis's sweet sultry voice still rang through loud and clear. Though there were eight of us, some chose to make their way to the front of the crowd, some stood in the back and the rest of us lazy old people chose to enjoy the mellow music sitting down way in the back. Inevitably, some tall guy with a big head blocked my line of sight, so I did stand for most of the concert. Sadly, my back started aching. Gotta love the thirties...

Tonight, one of my coworkers had an extra ticket to Jimmy Eat World at the Wiltern. Tired as I was, I'm always game to attend a concert if someone needs a friend to go with. So off I went to another night of music. Luckily, their music is more on the rock side which helped me stay awake. It also helped that we had seats in the balcony and I could still sit and see everything even with everyone standing up the whole time.

Both concerts took me down memory lane as it was the second time I was watching both bands. Both came out with albums and had concerts about two to three years ago, a not so good time for me.

I remember seeing Rilo Kiley for the first time on the night of Halloween 2004, the same day in which I said my final goodbye to the "surly" guy. That night, Rilo Kiley's quirky and poignant songs about bad relationships, such as the song below, couldn't have been more apropos and I've been in love with the band ever since.



With Jimmy Eat World, the Boy loved this band but wouldn't go to the concert with me, citing the excuse that their newer music wasn't as good. Whatever. I ended up going with M. Night and My Favorite Loner, both of whom I sadly and rarely hang out with now. In the end, I actually enjoyed both concerts and felt truly optimistic about where I am at this point in my life. It took that walk down memory lane to show me what a long way I've come.

There will be half a dozen more concerts coming up this month and next - all relatively newer bands I'll be seeing for the first time. It's going to be exhausting but I can't wait!

Some Things Come Full Circle

It was a fun and exhausting weekend, logging over 150 miles in my car. There were college friends in town and Ballet Dancer's birthday party unfortunately on opposite sides of southern California.

Vaj threw housewarming party part 2 in honor of some college friends in town. This time I didn't get eaten alive by mosquitoes in his backyard, and it was much more low key. The food however still rocked, courtesy of his mom.

Spending time with one of my old college roommates, my future book club partner, felt like going back to high school days - sitting in our PJ's at our makeshift slumber party in her parent's house. Except this time, one of us is in her 2nd trimester and falling asleep as soon as the lights are out before we can really start talking about the good stuff. Ah well... She used to fall asleep like that anyway.

After meeting Vaj and our friends from NY for a quick brunch in Huntington Beach, I hooked up the Ipod, and prepared for the trek up north to Valencia. An hour and a half later, I was up on a hill, dipping my feet in the pool of Ballet Dancer's boyfriend's house. A swanky seventies style L-shaped home, in which nearly every room has giant windows facing the pool AND there is already a telescope built in the backyard. How cool is that?

At her party, two funny things happened. As I walked in, Dancer's tea business partner turned around and said "we were just talking about you!" Of course, I wrinkled my nose and said "uh, why?" "Work relationships!" she exclaimed. Uh oh. Then I remembered that duh, both Dancer and her business partner met their significant others from work. Of course, the mouse-eared company is much larger and affords many more places to hide when things don't work out - thus my problem with the whole dating at work debacle.

"How would you feel about being set up? I know this really nice guy and he just broke up with his girlfriend...." Well first of all I was flattered because I've only met Dancer's business partner a few times and she thought highly of me enough to play cupid. Then I proceeded cautiously with some questions.

Turns out I know the guy. Met him years ago when I was still at the company. We were friends for about a month or so, and I found it odd that a month into our friendship, after a couple of lunches and emails, he then casually mentioned his girlfriend was in town taking care of him while he was out sick. When I mentioned this to one of my girl friends, she surprised me with flowers at work a week later, with a card that read "Until you stop meeting weirdos, flowers will have to come from me." Not only is it hard to top that kind of sweet gesture, it was also a good tip off that my gut feeling about things being weird was right. I left the company some time later and didn't keep in touch, though I would still see his name in some credits.

Anyway, he and said girlfriend must have broken up, because now cupid is pimping him out. I gave her my card and told her to tell him I said hi. I'm sure he'll remember me. We'll see what happens.

The second funny thing of the evening occurred after most of the guests had left. I had underestimated how tired I'd be and decided not to head out to Hollywood Bowl for the Pink Martini concert, instead planning to close out this birthday party. A couple of Dancer's boyfriend's friends showed up. The very ones who knew Mr. DD. The same hostess who disliked him. When I realized who they were, I caught Dancer and whispered "is that her?!" "Yes!" she mischievously smiled.

When the couple realized I worked in the same company as Mr. DD, they were also pleasantly surprised. And I wondered if the wife put two and two together to figure out who I was from what Dancer had mentioned to her. It was like a game of "I wonder if she knows that I know that she knows. Or vice versa." Fun indeed.

Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo

That demented fairy godmother of mine is sure getting her jollies in. On the life changes front, in just one day, the wedding count and baby count each went up by one for next year. And no, those weren't linked together either.

On the boy front, another new person joined our company last month. And I kid you not, he has the same name as The Boy, resembles the one I dated AFTER the Boy in height, lanky build, shortly cropped hair and plethora of tattoos, and hails from the same town as my favorite loner - dubbed the "uber work boy" by Wavy. With the temporary absence of our pseudo HR guy/welcoming wagon, I was asked to show him around and get him set up on my project for his first week. My initial reaction when I met him? "You have got to be kidding me." Though Wavy's parting advice was "Stay away. Like ten foot pole." this one has turned out to be nice and harmless, though separated from his wife and trying to work that out. Yikes.

Because THAT still sounds too simple, there is also someone else. A very sweet, seemingly shy nice guy who asked me out to go hiking. But he's also a part of the influx of new guys at work. AND he's a good friend of The Boy - that's how he got here. On top of the rational and emotional reasons of why this is a bad idea, there is also the shallow one. He's short. Wavy has dubbed this fellow Captain Three Strikes.

Now any of these reasons by themselves I could probably overlook. But all three together? I dunno. It's been a tough one to balance as things swing back and forth in my head.

He makes me laugh by randomly IMing me throughout the week with funny things to say. And he promised to sing me Milli Vanilli songs one day.

Then he mentions how much he misses The Boy and how they used to chat everyday. Erf.

I declined hiking on account of the heat and having other plans over the holiday weekend and he says "ok, you let me know when you are free, whenever you want." When I mention that his project is getting really busy and he seems to have to work every weekend anyway, he replies "No I won't. Anything for whatchamacalit." Awwwww

Then it turns out he's moving in to live with another coworker that I've known since I started there. As if there weren't enough hurdles on privacy as it is. Ack.

He gives me just enough space. He doesn't sit near me and we're not on the same projects (yet) so I can go days without really noticing him. But at least once a week, he'll pop up on the radar with a whimsical comment like "whatchamacalit rocks!" No more. No less. Er ok. :)

If there is a game being played here, he's playing it well. But I'm wary. Wary of ignoring all those hard earned lessons of not dating people from work. Wary of inadvertently letting The Boy back into my life second-hand. Wary of turning another "nice guy" into a jerk. Because that seems to be my gift/curse.

I took Wavy and M. Night's advice to invite him out to a group thing, and decided to have him join our merry crew for the Griffith Observatory last week. But I'm no closer to any decisions. Obviously, I enjoy having someone treat me well and behaves so nicely toward me - I don't take that for granted. But the rational, wary side of me screams so much louder these days.

Here Come the Singles - Redux

At our artery clogging fried chicken dinner Saturday night, when Hungry Monster asked me what my "type" was, or what I was looking for, I was seriously and sadly stumped by her simple question the rest of the night. Do I have a type? Do I know what I want? I don't know if I do. I came to the realization that the people I've actually dated are very different from the people I've actually liked. And that sounds kinda bad.

What I mean is that all those boys I've harbored little crushes to intense infatuations on - they've never liked me back. Or at least enough to date me. The boys I dated ever so briefly - they liked me and made the first move. And though I hadn't considered them first but wasn't necessarily repulsed by the idea, I decided to just dive in with a "eh, what the hell" kinda attitude. It didn't mean I didn't get hurt all the same, but it was a different kind of hurt. And that explanation doesn't sound all too great either.

As I sat there, pondering this little conundrum, SC Homey quipped "If Dr. Phil were here, he'd tell you that you need to figure out what YOU want first, before you can go out there and find it." Darn Dr. Phil. I hate it when that pompous whale is right.

Here Come the Singles

Last night, I went along with SC Homey, Polar Opposite and another random friend to a "Singles Mixer" - those parties hosted by very generous, event-planning-loving people. The idea is to balance out the numbers so the one requirement is to bring another single of the opposite sex with you, thus the random friend. Pre-party, the four of us joined Hungry Monster and her boyfriend for some good ole greasy fried chicken dinner at Honey's Kettle Fried Chicken. As we walked in the door, he good-naturedly exclaimed "Hey, it's the singles!" And that pretty much summed up the feeling of the party for me.

I tried, really I did. But I remembered why I didn't like these types of parties and how the last time we went to this particular one a year or two ago, we had left early and gotten some coffee instead. From the get go, I had developed a dislike for the random friend within 5 minutes of meeting him. I am that much of a hater. Luckily, only Polar Opposite picked up on this. (Dammit, I thought I had gotten better at hiding my feelings towards people.)

When we got to the party itself, held in the host's lovely apartment home, I also remembered that yup, I'm still pretty socially awkward when it comes to a crowd of people I don't know, especially when it's a crowd with an agenda and everyone knows why there's a pink elephant in the room.

For the few hours we were there, I did manage to leave my friends' side and talk to a couple of people. There was the fellow animation industry guy who came up to about my nose and turned around to sit down on the sofa and talk to some other more scantily clad girl after we finished out conversation. And there was a very pleasant recording engineer guy, who studied classical guitar, participated in triathlons, but also deemed "possibly gay" by SC Homey.

Halfway through the night, my high school friend, Shrewlady and her boyfriend showed up to crash the party, along with some mutual friends from college. Pleasantly unexpected for both of us, I blew their cover but we all had a good time chatting. It suddenly became just a party where you're chatting with old friends instead of a "singles party" where you're painfully trying to make conversation with strangers and assess if they're crazy.

By midnight, I was ready to leave. (Well, actually the thought crossed my mind to walk home after I was there for fifteen minutes). Of course, the most successful participant of our little group, was the random friend. The one I found annoying and slightly obnoxious? He was surrounded by a group of girls chatting him up, and we had to sit and wait around for him.

At 1 AM , we finally made it out of there and all I wanted to do was crawl into bed, read, and get a good night's sleep. I turned down a late night meal and recap at our local hip diner with the group (much to SC Homey's surprise. She's usually the one who sleeps by 11pm and never stays out late.) and did just that, with no crazy dreams to plague me.

Heat, Sunset Junction, Old Faces, New Faces

After yet another grueling workout Saturday morning, and a lovely home cooked meal (I started craving fresh food so was forced to cook) I awakened from my nap feeling hot, parched and overall grumpy from my apartment's lack of insulation and air-conditioning. What's a girl to do? I hid out at the neighborhood mall enjoying the controlled climate and temperature until it was time to meet up with Polar Opposite in the late afternoon.

Though I wasn't too familiar with their music, I decided to tag along with Polar Opposite and his ex (since he is my polar opposite, HE actually stays great friends with his exes) to see Blonde Redhead at the annual Sunset Junction Street Fair. "See" wouldn't be an accurate description. We heard their music and maybe I got a brief glimpse or two of how the band looked like when the mass of giants who stood in front of me cocked their heads to the side for a moment. It was nearly impossible to enjoy the concert among the throngs of people packed into these two streets, smoking, talking, milling about just to be there and not for the concert.

It took all my self-control to not just bust out of there and go "guys, see ya later. I can't handle this. I'm gonna wait over there." At first, I was afraid of becoming an old crankasaurus before my time, but felt much better when Polar Opposite and his friends complained of the unbearableness of it all afterwards. Phew. It's not just me becoming more particular about crowds...

I do wish I brought my camera though, as Sunset Junction was filled with the most diverse crowd I had ever seen, along with the most tattooed group of people I had encountered. We were probably unique in that none of us possessed any ink on our bodies.

Out of the blue, in that crazy mass of people, I saw a cute boy who reminded me of someone I once knew at the mouse eared company. And then I realized it WAS that same boy I once knew years ago when I saw his tattoo and remembered clearly how he was the one who started me on this unhealthy fascination with tattoos, the reasons behind them, and the boys who wear them.

I tapped him on the shoulder and said his name. He turned around, answered "yes?" and looked at me blankly. I asked him if he had worked at the mouse-eared company and he said years ago. I told him who I was and he had clearly forgotten. He was back in art school which is what he been saving up to do. I congratulated him on that and he still looked at me fuzzily, comprehending that we had been more than just passing acquaintances with polite conversation, but unable to retrieve that part of his memory. He apologetically explained he had had a few drinks, then said "well I have to find my friends." and shuffled off. His friends behind him smiled at me and moved on. And I thought, "Wow, I'm glad he's doing well and looking good." And then "Damn, my tastes haven't changed in years."

We rounded off the night with dinner at Cha Cha Cha's , a Caribbean restaurant close by, and heartily discussed Polar Opposite's coworker's love life. The coworker had filled his new Iphone with pictures of the girls he was dating/juggling and wanted to get the ex's and my impressions on these potentials. This was fun purely because 1) I didn't him know very well nor any of those girls at all, 2) he had been a serial monogamist all his life and only now dating multiple people for the first time and 3) he was genuinely a nice guy just blessed with a lot of girls interested in him. It was refreshing to not judge, feel bad for the girls as I tend to do, and just be one of the guys, chiming in on whether each one looked like "trouble" or "crazy." Sometimes it does seem easier to be a guy.

Some Things, You Just Can't Shake

Today, 8/8 is supposed to be a lucky day in Chinese culture. But it was a crappy day of work. Which started when I overslept and woke up at ten till 11 after ten hours of nonstop dreaming ABOUT work. I woke up more exhausted than ever.

And then in the midst of all the crappiness, I get this from The Boy who was the one, who moved away, who got married... Second IM this week. Guess he's back from his honeymoon.

Boy: W
Boy: are you going to talk to me any more since I moved?
Boy: :-I

I don't know what to do. It breaks my heart to keep ignoring him though I know I'm invisible to him on IM - yet he keeps trying. It's against my nature to just drop someone without explanation and to be a bad friend who doesn't stay in touch with the other person when they make the appropriate amount of effort. Yet, there's really only 3 choices here:

1) continue ignoring
2) respond back and keep up the charade
3) come clean and explain "Dude, you broke my heart. Do you not get it? Do you not understand that this is a broken, damaged version of me that you keep kicking in the shins every time you want to be my friend?"

Perhaps #3 is a bit too dramatic and unnecessary.

Wavy suggested responding back curtly, telling him that I'm busy with work. (Which is kinda the truth really.) And that after a few times of this, he'd get the message and it would be a natural devolution of the friendship. But that feels mean to me too and also along the lines of being a bad friend. "Arghhhhh!" I want to yell. "Look at what you're making me do!! You're making me into a 'bad friend!!!!!'"