Remember that guy I was telling you about?

Well, I ran into him at the bar last night. Forget the part where I knew that this was his favorite bar and he would probably be there, it was completely chance. Turns out that, yeah he had a death in the family, no he’s not interested in me, and apparently I’m really awkward because I didn’t really talk to him all night (I thought he was on a date…), despite the fact that he made no effort to speak to me either. So there it is. Like I said, dating is strange. Were we even dating? I really have no idea. I do know that I’m a little sad he’s not interested, but now I can stop feeling guilty for pseudo-cheating on my pseudo-boyfriend who I can only pseudo-date because he lives on the other side of the country. That sentence made me sound insane, right? Yeah, I know. I think you’ll get over it. I know I did.

Why should almost 2,000 miles (read this) stop me from regularly interacting with someone who really understands me? I think we’ve reached a silent agreement that if ever a time comes in our lives when we may be able to live near each other and there are no other ties, we’ll see whether it works. That we live as far away as we do and have been communicating regularly for a year, care about each other and are able to stay friends when one of us is seeing someone and “lovers” when neither is – is, I believe, healthier than you would think a long distance non-relationship with someone you met on a video game would be. Have I mentioned I know that most of this is just rationalizing? Because I do. Know that.

And now, I will leave with this. My cat has decided that my cowl neck sweatshirt from Victoria’s secret that I usually wear as a pajama top is an invitation for him to stick his head down my shirt.




… is so strange. We agree to meet up with people we hardly know because we think they’re attractive or because they think we’re attractive and then, we either like what we experience or we don’t and act accordingly. Alright, so that doesn’t seem too incredibly strange. The strange part is that sometimes, these people just enter our lives for a week or two and then fall off the face of the Earth (okay, so they probably still exist somewhere, but when someone stops texting, calling, or answering my attempts at communication I would like to pretend they no longer exist).

What’s really bothering me at the moment, though, is that I was seeing someone (and be seeing him I mean that we were doing things like meeting for coffee or milkshakes or calzones and then one or both of us would pay and we’d awkwardly wave good-bye in the parking lot), and I thought it was going well and we were at least becoming friends. A week ago, we made tentative plans for later in the evening which never came to fruition, he apologized for being MIA the next day and I haven’t heard from him since. WHAT IS THAT?!

No, really. Should I be wondering if I did something to offend this person? I mean, I’m relatively sure I didn’t injure him in any way, definitely not physically and I’m positive that he was more than willing to drop everything and meet up whenever I wanted and was very quick to respond until he suddenly wasn’t and no longer does. So what happened? Seriously. I really just… don’t get it.

And on a completely unrelated topic, a girl in an eighth grade class I subbed for recently, showed me this:

Which she claims to have made herself. I’m altogether impressed by the logic chain and overwhelmingly concerned by the level of neurosis.


Every once in a while life decides to take everything away. When this happens we’re usually crying or sobbing and complaining and want to know what we did that was so incredibly terrible to deserve. If we’re lucky, later we receive a massive karmic wave of good fortune.

I’m pretty sure that’s what is currently happening to me. I’m surfing a pretty massive karmic wave. It’s a tidal wave of good karma: fingers crossed I land on a damn nice beach.


The differences between men and women seem so objective and imaginary sometimes that we forget that there really are some concrete, undeniable differences. The most obvious is that men can’t bear children. From this one difference leaks a flood of differences – differences of opinion, failure to understand how hard some situations can really be, and how unfair some opinions really are.

Right now my skin crawls when I think too long about how unfair it is that I just had to do what I did, that I was coerced by everyone around me who knew because of his opinion on the subject, and that he forced me to suffer it alone. What really bothers me is that I know he’s telling everyone only half the story. The half that makes him look good. The half that makes my actions seem irrational, demanding – even crazy and I can’t in good faith share my side.

I have to hold my tongue, bide my time, allow the secrets to melt me from the inside out until it’s no longer inappropriate or obvious that I’m talking about him. I have to wait until my intent can not be misconstrued. I have to wait until telling my story is simply me sharing my side of the story and not an attempt to slander his character.

I’m angry with him for everything that happened or that he didn’t do, but I’m especially angry that, again, I am in a position where I have to keep secrets and it’s his fault. I’m angry that he couldn’t make me hate him enough that I could ignore any damage I may do to him by being completely honest. I’m angry that I can’t just write here, right now exactly what happened, exactly how it made me feel and exactly why and I’m angry that it’s all because of him.

Mostly I’m angry that I’m so incredibly sad and I’m angry that there isn’t a single decision I’ve made in the past ten days that was actually mine.

My sudden return to activity…

…has something to do with that fact, I think, that I’m finally ready to own my life. For whatever reason I have decided that the only way to move on is to declare loudly, proudly, and without worry that yes, I did this, yes, I experienced that, and yes, I survived and somehow I’m still a person. Not only that, I’m a person who can still believe that I’m good, that my intentions are usually pure and that I’m mostly unselfish. There are so many things that I’ve been afraid to talk about, afraid to be honest about, and afraid to admit for so many reasons that they were blocking my ability to say anything about anything.