Mystical Encouragement

Well, I'm still dragging ass, but today I feel a little more hopeful. Things seem to be pointing in a positive direction. For example I was able to find a housepainter who was willing to do me a solid and come this week so I can get my house refinanced. This was looking next to impossible last weekend. But the thing that I think is the most positive sign is a tiny yet unlikely stroke of luck. Last week I was sitting in a restaurant listening to a song that I really wanted to remember so I could download it. The trouble was, I had no idea what band it was, what the name of the song was, or even what any of the lyrics were. All I knew was that it was a somewhat obscure song -- at least to me -- from somewhere during the last 10 years. Lo and behold, yesterday when I was screwing around on the computer, without even looking, I happened upon the song (The W.A.N.D. by the Flaming Lips). I'm taking it as a sign that good things are going to start coming my way.

Which came first, the chicken or the egg

Reading back over various entries and assessing my mood this week, it's dawning on me that I appear to be a generally unhappy person. This kind of sucks. All my life I sort of thought of myself as unflappable and laid back. Now I'm starting to see that my seemingly cool exterior might be a veneer covering up a tortured individual. Today there is actually no question that I'm unhappy. (I'm still recovering from this weekend when MNB ended up getting to second base with his neighbor's big-titted 23 year old wife while I was sleeping in the next room.) I wonder though if my general willingness to stay with someone who is such an asshole, like my ex-husband before him, is because I'm just sad. Or, do I stay in a state of perpetual sadness because of my willingness to stay with someone who is such an asshole? Perhaps the world will never know.

Could this be the end of our unscrupulous heroine?

I've been feeling weird this weekend. This has sort of been my year of living dangerously. I think turning 40 and getting divorced sort of pushed me into hypermidlifecrisis mode. I've been less domestic than at any point in recent memory. I've been carousing more than at any point in the last 2 decades. I've been roaming around the country every chance I get. This weekend, however, I'm feeling exhausted and ready to settle down. Granted, this is probably a fleeting sentiment. I could easily end up doing drunken karaoke in parts unknown next weekend, but not if this malaise continues.

Maybe it's some sort of prehistoric instinct brought on by the falling leaves urging me to get the cave stocked & ready for the long winter months. Maybe it's my 40 year old body trying to tell me enough is enough. Maybe it's my dormant maturity finally fighting it's way to the surface again. Regardless, I can hardly wait to see whether this is a permanent state of mind (which would be a relief on some level) or just a passing phase.

the secret ingredient is love

I promise, I'm not going to write about about MNB. I'm thinking about him (because he just called to talk about how a couple of girls thought he looked like a lawyer today & bought him a couple of shots -- which he categorically refuses with me), but I'm not going to write about him.

I'm sitting in the cleanest room of my house (semi-productive Saturday) and I just finished watching "Forgetting Sarah Marshall," which I thought was very funny. I hate romantic comedies at this point in my life, but since this one had a break up involved, I didn't feel so alienated.

I also made a badass mixtape on mixwit. I called it "Time Freak." If you were sitting here with me, I'd make you try to figure out why I called it that. Since you're not, I'll give it away. All of the songs have either irregular time signatures or have something progressive going on time-wise. I'm sure the appreciation for this type of list is limited, but the secret ingredient is love, so it's a given that people will think it's delicious.

Somebody slap me

I think it would be great if I had a reset button like my modem. Sometimes I just feel like I need to be rebooted. Today, for example. It's Friday, the weather is p-e-r-f-e-c-t, and I'm staring a 3-day weekend in the face. However, none of these blessed events is registering with me. I'm walking around in what I sometimes call a "merciful fog." Most of the time, I could have shit raining down on me, but if it's sunny outside, the shit just rolls off while I'm smiling like someone in an Orbit Gum commercial. Somehow, it's not working today. Perhaps a little electroshock therapy is in order?

and she bunts...

I postponed my other rendezvous times 2 (what's the plural of rendezvous? rendezvouses?) & instead spent all weekend with MNB. It's so much easier to do what's familiar. There is, however, one of the two remaining potential suitors that I think might be a winner. He lives pretty far away, but not an unreasonable distance. I'm not ruling that one out yet. Oh, SF, the stalker I thought I'd deterred, is back on the scene. I started getting texts and calls from him again this week. One included most of the lyrics to, "I'm No Angel," by the Allman Brothers. That one filled up my stupid inbox. Then, Sunday, I got one around noon that asked if I was going to wish him a happy birthday. I didn't. So, I got a follow up about how "hardcore" it was that I wouldn't even send him birthday wishes. Hopefully he'll take the hint intended by the fact that I'm actively ignoring him. I'm starting to think he might actually be a little psycho. That would be typical. I've pretty much been a freak magnet my whole life. What's a girl to do?

Strike one

Okay. One down, two to go. The only thing is, after the first date this week, I'm not sure I want to go through with the others. I had really forgotten how weird it is to pretend to be interested in someone for a couple of hours when you knew after the first five minutes, it wasn't happenin'. The worst part of all was the awkward goodbye. After what seemed like a respectable time of making small talk, I was feeling the urge to sprint to my car, hop in, and put the ugliness behind me. But, instead I politely walked out with my date and when I did, it became apparent that he expected more than just a wave goodbye. So, after a few seconds of maneuvering, I effectively limited him to a one-armed, side-by-side hug. The guy was nice enough, but there was no way his face was getting anywhere near mine. I'm tellin' ya, it's rough out there.

Live fast, love hard, and don't let anyone else use your comb

An update on my efforts on the guy front. MNB continues to be his on again off again self and this weekend he excitedly told me that one of his local internet girlfriends recently broke up with her boyfriend and so now she's free to talk dirty to him, do webcam acrobatics, or whatever it is they do. I'm sure his master plan is to try to orchestrate a three way. My "what in the hell are you doing?" alarms were deafening. So, in response, I think I went a little overboard. I set up dates with 3 different guys for the 3 nights I'll be in town this week. Again, my "what in the hell are you doing?" alarms are sounding. Did I think I was the Fonz? Oh well, so many men, so little time.

front row seats to the end of the world

I just got back from DC. I was making hill visits during this inopportune time of complete economic chaos. In every office the phones were ringing nonstop with concerned citizens on the line passing along their opinions to their congressional delegates. As always, the staffers were dutifully tallying the opinions of their constituents so that their bosses would know what their voters think. However, as much as I believe in democracy, I hope that the senators and representatives really don't intend to rely on the opinions of the uninformed masses to decide how to vote. How many of these callers are economic experts? I'm willing to bet, not many. When it comes to decisions as monumental as this one, I hope that these guys have the good sense to rely on the expertise of people who actually understand the nuances and intricacies of our modern economy. Hold on your wallets, it's going to be a bumpy ride.

mixing drugs

It's Saturday after yet anoather exhausting week. I've been on the road all week with what I've been calling the circus, but was really a series of workshops for clients. So, I've had to paste a smile on my face most of the week and try not to get overly fed up the togetherness required when you're roaming the country with 10-20 colleagues. Not only was I dragging ass, but I've been trying to fend off the nagging depression that I can sense in the back of my psyche. Today, a bitchy call from my ex broke the levee, so to speak, & all of the sudden I was Hamlet's soul mate.


So, I gave up trying to do housework & sat down at the computer. Then, Everything is Wrong with Me introduced me to mixwit.com. Turns out posting playlists is the wonder drug. Although I've only got two mixes posted, it's easy to see the progression of my mood. The first one, aptly titled "melancholy," is self indulgent and a little depressing -- but still awesome. Making the second one, completely brought an end to my pity party. Now I'm smiling at the lizards and birds in my back yard, drinking a beer, dancing around the house, and complimenting myself on my impeccable, yet quirky taste in music. (I don't have the time to wait for someone else to give me accolades.)

looking for mr. goodbar

One of the things that's been on my to do list for a month or two is to add to my bullpen. Although I'm irrationally attached to MNB, his irrational unattachment often leaves me feeling less than blissful. So, in honor of his commitment to remaining uncommitted, I made the conscious decision to expand my options. Toward this end, I've been meeting some interesting guys. So far, my options are as follows: Bachelor number one - a self-employed internet entrepreneur with whom I have similar interests, but might be a little intense; Bachelor number two - a salesman who seems to like me, but might be a little too quick to become attached; Bachelor number three - a guy who I don't know as well, but hasn't tripped my creep radar yet. The other person I've met was my would be stalker. I'll call him SF.

SF lives in MNB's apartment complex and since MNB doesn't have a cell phone (did I mention his fear of commitment?), I gave SF my number so we could meet up with him one Saturday night. SF hung out with us as the proverbial third wheel that Saturday night. Totally innocent beginning, but from that night on, I started getting pretty constant calls and texts from him that became increasingly forward and creepy. When I'd stay with MNB, as soon as we'd turn out the lights, I'd get a good night (gnite) text, like he was watching the apartment. When I gave the excuse that I wasn't going to hang out with him because he is MNB's neighbor, he shot back that he didn't get the impression from MNB that there was a commitment. Can't argue with that. It became apparent that he was not one to take a hint, so my efforts to discourage him became more and more direct and now it appears I've finally shaken him off. However, before he agreed to leave me alone, he felt the need to advise me that I should "act boldly in matters of the heart." Although I'm generally uncertain about how boldly I should act, I'm not sure I want to take advice from a guy who overtly hits on his neighbor's sort-of-girlfriend.

Well, Jane, it just goes to show you...

The last two weeks have been one drama after another. I think most of my staff at work have confided some sort of earth shattering secret to me over the last several days. I know everyone's got something, but right now everyone seems to have something BIG. I was starting to feel like my insane ex, my financial disasters, and my new stalker (likely topic for a later blog) were a walk in the park compared to the things other people were dealing with. Then, last Thursday my doctor called. At 9:00 at night. He apparently didn't consider McCain's speech at the RNC must-see TV. I knew it couldn't be good news if my doctor was calling me at 9:00 at night. Some of what he said is definite, some is only potential. I'll know more after I go back in for another (painful?) test. I spent Friday in a daze, pretending to earn my salary. I spent this weekend being a completely self-indulgent infant, crying and drinking to excess. Finally, I think I've successfully added my health issues to the list of things I relegate to the back of my mind as I carry on with my life. To quote Rosanne Roseannadanna, it's always something.

It's all about me(me)

I'm not sure how I feel about the whole meme concept. I like the viral aspect, but in addition to having a weird name, they remind me of chain mail. There's not much I hate more than the irrational fear that because I didn't forward an e-mail to 20 friends I care about -- hell, I don't have 20 friends I care about! -- I'm susceptible to a potentially fatal streak of bad luck. That said, I'm a sucker for the meme's about music. The best 4 hours I remember having at work were spent completing an e-mail quiz that asked the reader to identify 20 songs from the 80's based on a couple lines of lyrics. So, it is in that spirit that I'm stealing another music-themed meme. This one I got from Sarah in the Suburbs. I totally don't expect you to read my answers. This is an exercise in narcissism.

If someone new were in your car, what song on your player would you be quickest to skip out of embarrassment? Any song by Weird Al (yeah, I've got more than one).

What song or songs is/are most “atypical” on your player? What Goes Around/Comes Around by (the unexplainably irresistable) Justin Timberlake.

What song(s) on your player turns you on? Closer by NIN

If you wanted to get a member of the opposite sex in the mood, what song would you program to come on when they are in the car? Depends on the guy. Most likely: See Previous.

What is the longest song on your player? That's a little tricky. I tried to sort by time, but I think the results are skewed by the strange affinity bands have for hidden tracks (I hate 'em). However, when I sort, Something In The Way by Nirvana comes in at just over 20 minutes.

What do you think is the silliest song on your player? Fresh Dog by MC Frontalot

What did you most recently add to your player? Just Like a Woman by Jeff Buckley

What did you most recently delete? I've got so much memory, I never delete.

What is your favorite song on your player that is from a movie? You Ain't Woman Enough to Take My Man by Loretta Lynn (Coal Miner's Daughter)

Is there a song on your player that is only there for someone else’s benefit? Tons. I have a whole playlist for my 3 year old. Her favorite is Put a Banana in Your Ear by Jason Steele (of the inexplicable youtube hit, Charlie the Unicorn)

What song or artist do you find yourself skipping most frequently and therefore should probably delete? Carrie Underwood - hands down.

What song would you least like to be playing when pulled over by law enforcement? It's Going to Be a Long Night, Ween (you gotta listen to the song) or maybe Gin and Juice by Snoop Dogg

What song most makes you want to smash stuff (in a good or a bad way)? You Oughtta Know, Alanis Morissette

What song makes you want to throw a drunken arm around a friend’s shoulders and sing? I Want You to Want Me, Cheap Trick or Hotel California, the Eagles

What song would you be most mortified to be caught singing aloud? One Bad Apple by the Osmonds

girl gone wild

It's Tuesday after a very long Labor Day weekend and I'm in a completely crappy mood. This weekend was weird and disturbing. Part of me blames changes in the barometric pressure caused by hurricane Gustav, but the more rational part of me blames alcohol. Just to give you an idea of how strange the weekend was, not one day went by that MNB and I weren't propositioned to participate in menage a trois -- once by a self-proclaimed Nazi. (We declined.)

As I try to merge back into my workweek, this weekend seems to have had a "Tears of a Clown" sort of quality. I feel like my fellow Labor Day revelers and I worked too hard at having fun in an effort to distract ourselves from the fact that we're not really happy. And now, with my nose back to the grindstone, the pathetic attempt at hedonism has left me with a mild case of depression. I know, I'm being dramatic. It's the kind of day that makes me feel real hatred for every happy person I see. So, to protect the more contented members of the community, I'm on self-imposed house arrest throwing things at the TV every time an e-Harmony commercial comes on.

Rock on

I've always loved to listen to music in just about every circumstance. Most of my life has been accompanied by an actual soundtrack. If I sit down to dinner and there's no music playing, I feel like there's something missing. If I'm going to sleep, I like to hear music. If I'm in the shower, I sing. I cannot imagine preferring to exercise, cook, or -- most of all -- drive without music. However, much to my surprise, I have found lately that there are actually people like that. I just don't get it. Some might say that I like to have a steady stream of sound because I don't like to be alone with my thoughts. I disagree. Instead, I think songs help me understand what I'm feeling. There have been so many times that I hear a song I've known my whole life, but never really "got" because I hadn't lived it yet. I guess there may be something Mary Poppin-esque about always wanting to whistle while I work, but if the bottomless carpetbag fits...

A gift that keeps on giving

My very caring and oft-divorced boss told me yesterday that I should celebrate the finality of my divorce with a commemorative gift to myself. He said that after one of his divorces he bought himself a set of napkins and placemats. He even went to the trouble of wrapping and opening the gift. A little too much trouble if you ask me. Anyway, the point is that every time he uses his napkins and placemats he says he remembers that time in his life when he made a tough choice to stand up for himself. Although I can't imagine I'd ever want to buy myself napkins and placemats -- who needs 'em? -- I am sort of intrigued thinking about what kind of gift I would choose for myself in light of this occasion. I'm guessing a vibrator is not exactly what he had in mind...

The guy of my dreams

I gotta say, I have a total crush on Anthony Bourdain. He's such a rock star. He's tall, lanky, punk-rock, cocky, and smartass. I love watching him roam the globe drinking, smoking, eating everything, and generally thumbing his nose at family values. I'm afraid that I'll never meet a guy who lives up to those high standards.

and now for something completely different...

Although this is basically a journal blog & so far not much of a social one, in the spirit of "now for something completely different" I'm going to do a "meme" that I saw on someone else's blog. Granted, this would make more sense if other people were reading my blog, but I'm going to do it anyway to keep myself from being completely boring & blogging about MNB again.

The meme (a term which I think I finally figured out) is that you take your ipod, put it on shuffle, and type out the 1st 4 lines of the 1st 20 songs that come up, regardless of how embarassing the song. The idea is that whoever read your songs tries to identify them through the opening lyrics. So, obviously it would make more sense to do this if someone else were reading this blog, but I'm going to do it anyway. Here we go:

1. Suppose I called you up tonight
And told you that I love you
And suppose I said I wanna come back home
And suppose I cried and said I think I finally learned my lesson

2. Little angels
Whisper softly
While my heart melts
For you and I'll see

3. We were drinking like the Irish
But we were drinking scotch
Bartender turned on a movie
Everybody turned to watch

4. Here we go, I'm hanging out in Camden
Drink with my girlfriends on a Saturday night
This guy says, "come and meet my girlfriend"
She's sitting in the corner looking rather uptight

5. Baby's in her hour of darkness.
Everything she feels is hopeless.
Disconnected from the dancehall.
Tripping on her heart of purple.

6. I can’t help my feelings;
I’ll go out of my mind.
These players come to get me
’Cause they’d like my behind.

7. Love was the egg
See and it was born in a cloud with silver lining
But it broke, I mean it hatched on the ground
So time flew right by me and while I...

8. If it happens again i`m leaving
I`ll pack my things and go
If it happens again
There`ll be no looking back

9. Everyday, everyday I have the blues
Ooh everyday, everyday I have the blues
When you see me worryin' baby, yeah it's you I hate to lose
Whoa nobody loves me, nobody seems to care

10.There's a mickie in the tastin' of disaster
In time [in time] you get faster
Harry Hippie is a waste as if he hasta procrastanatin'
Something moving in the brain of a doer

11. I don't want to introduce you to my friends, 'cause I think they'll get the wrong idea.
You're so fetching in that dress - They'll think we have messed around
And though I'll tell them otherwise, I was gone all night with you.
What most people do will be running through their heads.

12. I got nothing to lose
I saw the sun in may
I've got something to hold on to
I fell in love today

13. Look at me I'm fallin'
Off of a cliff now
I can still hear my mama yelling No No No
But the words mean nothing

14. Once upon a time, I had a little money.
Government burglars took it long
before I could mail it to you, but
You are the only one.

15. When I look up to the sky
I see your eyes, a funny kind of yellow
Rush home to bed, I soak my head
I see your face underneath my pillow

16. I've got ways to make you sorry
start my life with someone else
I've got ways to make you fall
I'll tell you all the things that I lied about

17. Bless the father bless the son
Cross your heart 'cause you're the one
Collectin' moon-beams in the mornin'
Curvy sticks and wooden poles

18.Bless the father bless the son
Cross your heart 'cause you're the one
Collectin' moon-beams in the mornin'
Curvy sticks and wooden poles

19. Yeh, yeh yeh yeh yeh
Uhm hmm hm hm
It's a wonderful night
You’ve gotta take it from me

20. We're gonna break out the hats and hooters
When Josie comes home
We're gonna rev up the motor scooters
When Josie comes home to stay

Another train analogy

Okay, last consecutive post on this topic, but indulge me once more. MNB was offended this morning when I referred to his contstant reminders that he's still on the market as "putting me in my place." In his mind, he's doing me a kindness every time he brings up how uncommitted we are because he thinks it will keep me from being hurt when he meets the girl of his dreams. The thing he doesn't understand is that I'll be hurt regardless. After repeated lectures on the topic, I'm not going to forget he's not "beholden to me." The thing is, I'm prepared to deal with the pain when I have to, but I don't want to suffer through a million reminders that it's coming. To me, a good analogy is that we all know we're going to die, but we don't ruin every day thinking about it. He seems to feel that if he keeps reminding me of the inevitable train wreck, he'll save me from that eventual pain. In reality, his constant reminders keep me from even enjoying the ride.

a butterfly - not a barnacle

My frustration of yesterday reinforces a fact of which I've always been aware. I need to diversify a little bit in the guy department. I think if I have a deeper bench I'll care a little less about the mixed signals I get from MNB. Easier said than done. Last night, during my foray into hanging out with girls, we walked into a bar in my town and I swear Ned Beatty was probably being forced to squeal like a pig somewhere in a back room. These are the people I've got to choose from??? It feels a little hopeless. Regardless, I'm going to redouble efforts so I can stop relying on the ever fickle MNB for all of my man needs.