eight years has passed since that day when we said, 'we do.'
and i don't know why it was delayed by a whole week (after moving in), but this week has been playing tricks on me.
the first thing was that both yesterday when i came home from the grocery store, and the day before when i rode my bike home from work, i expected puppy daughter to bark.
i can't even call her 'my' anymore. just like the house isn't 'ours' anymore.
she is really smart, and quickly associated sounds with my arriving home from work. in the spring, she knew the sound of my bike. i don't know how - it sounds like every other schwinn cruiser made the year mine was. and she knew the sound of my particular car alarm, even though it sounds like every other nissan horn.
but something else combined. and would set her off. if i chirped the car, she'd start barking. as i rode up the street to the house, she'd start barking.
and this week, twice, i thought 'what the fuck?!' to myself as i came home and there was no bark, because i expected her to bark.
there was at least one day when i expected ever to be here when i got here.
which is just ludicrous.
not in that he-snuck-in way. in an of-course-he's-here way.
i'd like to say that him not being here is not at all disappointing. it's just that the house is fucking with me. or my head is. the puppy not being here is a little disappointing. but honestly, for the best.
i still have not heard from him after emailing and texting.
maybe he is in florida. maybe he is in the hospital. maybe he is dead.
it's thundering. thundering! so unusual. we had two thundersnow storms this winter. i guess i haven't heard thunder before that since last fall or summer? it's not very usual here. we get a ton of rain. but it's quiet rain.
it was so warm on friday. 70s. then cold again. and yesterday it was cold in the morning, then rained, then was warmer. mid 50s. today 40s again. and thunder.
this is a welcome shift though. fewer days that stay in the 30s and 40s. more days of 50s. spring is almost here.
eight years ago, plus nine days, i moved to phila. and it snowed. i wouldn't be surprised if we get another wimpy snow storm before it's actually spring-like, but i hope that it starts to warm up soon.
this winter has been miserable. and because i feel like i have taken just about all i can handle, and because i feel like i'm about to come unhinged, i'm ready for the warmer weather.
everyone resurfaces. everyone comes out of hiding. everyone hops on their bicycles and rides everywhere. everyone smiles. everyone does something small for someone else, because they feel better, finally.
it's like a huge cloud is lifted when winter is over. and it's excitingly close to the first day of spring. maybe this year i'll get free rita's water ice. i missed it every other year.
even if it takes a little while for the weather to figure out what the hell it's doing, just knowing that it is spring, technically, releases some kind of mental tension that builds quickly during the late fall into winter.
what's funny is that, without reading back, i feel like i did okay for so long. i feel like i was fine in october. even though that tim incident happened the day before halloween. and i was okay in november, though stress was definitely starting to mount with ever and the house. and december home was perfectly timed. i think otherwise i might have not fared so well. but around the trip, december was horrible. and january was the worst. and february was somehow harder than january.
but i got the divorce behind me, so i guess that means that this winter was great. it just didn't feel like it.
march has been a mixed bag. it's been a complete shift in priorities. a complete shift in responsibilities. i have been working my ass off around the house, instead of laying in bed in the apartment. i have been drinking slightly less. nothing to brag about, really. but instead of a two drink minimum every night, three on a few, i've managed to drop it down to one drink some nights, and two drinks some nights. and i have been running around so much that i almost forget to have one drink with late dinner.
i might be getting close to having a couple nights a week where i don't have a drink at all. i'll have to see.
and in the same vein, but a different way, i'd like to vent about dating site a little.
is it impossible to get a date when you're a smoker? what the fuck?
just because i smoke, that doesn't mean i'm going to smoke on you or with you.
if you're a non-smoker and i want to kiss you, don't you think that would be enough motivation to not smoke while i'm with you?
i mean, i get it. there are people who smoke right before they come in for coffee, and they stink. and it's gross. and i have to wonder if i smell like that to a non-smoker, but i tend to believe it's a cheap cigarettes thing. and mine are anything but. and i also wash my hands, which helps. and i wear perfume.
i combat it on a few fronts. but i guess it just doesn't matter.
i have now winked and flirted with fifteen boys. and not a single one has gotten back to me.
well, not in a productive way.
crow boy didn't respond after the first time. astronaut boy didn't respond after the first time, and he's a smoker!
alot boy didn't reopen his account, so i guess my one potential date is history.
i liked the idea of flirting with boys online. i thought, 'what guy wouldn't love to be hit on?'
but apparently, a lot of them wouldn't. i guess i didn't change my views while everyone else was changing theirs. so while i was sitting around thinking that boys hit on girls, not the other way around, the playing field was being leveled, and everyone hits on everyone. so, while i thought it was a big deal to have overcome my inability to hit on dudes, everyone else has spent the last ten years hitting on everyone.
where and when i did my growing up, it just wasn't that way. and this is what i was warned about. this is what i was afraid of. it's just playing out now. and it blows. i'm struggling to find the balls everyone else was apparently born with and using for the last ten years.
i don't want to work at suck store tomorrow. i don't want to wake up stupid early.
but as long as i stay here and collect this check, this is my job. and i'll keep doing it.
i know it's only been three months, but i feel ready and overdue for a vacation.
like, get the fuck out of town and run away for days vacation.
there is so much i need to be doing, too. and i am not doing any of it. i should start looking for another job. just to see.
last time i was at favorite bar, steve said, 'some nights i leave with $50, some nights i leave with $200.'
i mean, i need to crunch some numbers, but i think i'd be okay to make the switch. hard work, yes. late nights, yes.
but i wouldn't starve. i'd lose my benefits, which is really really stupid. but i feel myself letting go here. because i think i knew i could make it through the big push of this winter if i could just get to summer. and now it's spring, and i'm staying here, and i just don't want to do this anymore. not the bitch work of it. and if i can find a way to work twenty hours a week, and then have another job? that might just be my ticket.
working with pam and kim is so much fun.
but i just think that the rest is lame. some days it feels like easy money. and most of the time it feels like i do a shitty job for what i get paid. and some days it feels like i get paid shittily for the job that i do.
this has turned into a very random bitchfest.
how about work fun stuff, for a change?
i've been having the most fun with the girls that i've had since i started working with them the past few days. i feel like every day this past week has been the quality/hilarity of the original butt sandwich/garbage sandwich days.
it's been mostly completely juvenile humor. centering around farts. because we sell so many things that smell like farts, it's uncanny.
if someone puts guldens on their pretzel? farts. opens a bag of popcorn? farts. turkey for sandwiches? farts. it's not okay. a few times a day, we look around, sniffing the air. and then smile, 'oh... it's just the turkey.'
but two weeks ago, i introduced a new item. hardboiled eggs. we used to get them in cute neat little packages, shells on, in twin packs. and they don't have them anymore. so instead of getting a retardedly huge bucket of them, and gloving up to go fishing for them, i bought them in little sealed pouches, of dozens.
but holy fuck... if cutting the pouch open doesn't smell like the most putrid sewer dump you've ever taken in your whole life! it is raunchy. rank. sickening. just BAD.
and when i volunteered to be the poor soul to open them and disperse them into little dishes of one and two eggs for our customers, dear god. i didn't know yet. and i prepared mentally, and went into the back room fearfully, with my sharpest scissors. clean, quick cut. dump cup lid. but when i had to breathe, all i could do was laugh. and i couldn't stop laughing. because it was just so WRONG.
and kim heard me laughing in the back room, and said, 'oh, NO...' which made me laugh so hard that i literally thought for a minute that i might pee my pants.
and then, the other night, i was on this kick with nina, where we were watching funny videos on youtube. after i looked at over a hundred pages of nowaygirl.com. no way girl. you need to see it. but don't say that i haven't warned you - it will suck your life away.
not every single thing is good. but the good ones make the rest worth getting through. some of the shit you just can't make up.
in an effort to get nina off of that site, and switch her gears with a diversion, i started sending her video links. and when i played this one, i started to get a headache, from laughing so hard that i cried and couldn't breathe:
at the same time, she said 'we should look for retarded animals', i sent her this link. it was crazy timing:
then she sent me this link, right after i'd watched it and sent her the second one:
she went to bed, and i got on a tangent, watching public farting youtube videos. my favorite being this guy, who sells something called the pooter. you put it in your pocket for pranks:
it's interesting to be depressed, sad, bummed out. and then to cry laughing so hard. it's like a momentary lapse in judgment/mood. but then the laughing dies down. and you're right back to where you started. but that night? it was super fun to know that at the exact same time, nina and i had laughing fits simultaneously. it was awesome. hopefully you loved it, too.
it seems that nothing will ever be as funny to me as farting. seriously? i could watch this all night. and never stop laughing. i've struck GOLD.
kim reminded me that there are fart noise apps for iphone. so i got a free one. it's pretty funny. not realistic sounding. but the idea of it is awesome.
let's switch back to ladylike grownup things, like such as fucking boys, shall we?
today was more fun because robbie came by again. and it wasn't that his visit was so amazing, but it was what happened before and after.
kim and pam have been razzing me incessantly about dating him/fucking him/kissing him/cuddling with him. whatever.
it's been getting carried away, and blown out of proportion.
i won't lie. i'll be perfectly honest... ready?
i love robbie. i will probably live the rest of my young-ish life wishing that i could drop everything and that he would drop everything, and that we would find a streamline trailer and travel the country together.
but it's a funny daydream.
i think he is one of the sweetest, hottest dudes around. but the thing is, i literally cannot imagine myself sleeping with him. in the carnal way. my daydreams are innocent enough... just cuddling up for a nap. at their raciest, they involve kissing him. he's the type of guy best friend that you listen to, with your head on his chest. fall asleep to the sound of his voice, telling a sweet story about something you never knew about him.
but the girls have been insinuating that what i should do is bring him into the back room and have my way with him. and while it's fun to laugh and joke about, it's quite literally the furthest thing from my mind.
intern on the other hand? oh i wanted to push him into any enclosed space and do it. but robbie is just not like that.
and while it's easy to think 'i'm lonely and alone, he's lonely and alone, we should make out', he's not fuck buddy material. and i have never crossed that line with him to this point because i cannot risk the friendship. and in a way i feel like i need to spend time with him with someone else there, so they can see what it's like, and how we work together. because right now, everyone just thinks i'm crazy for not pouncing on him.
i just don't get that feeling from him. and i try to squash my feelings that verge on inappropriate, because i don't want anything to change.
if i was looking for mr right? fuck it. i'd do something. anything.
i had a nice fifteen minute talk with him the other morning. and i did something i never do. i really studied his face. he smelled so so good. maybe that is why i started to focus on him more than usual. his nose is perfect. smaller than i would have pictured in my mind. i knew that he had freckles already, but saw those, too. and he smiled, and little crow's feet appeared. for a 45 year old dude, he is seriously good looking. he has more gray in his hair now, i think his job is aging him a little. this coming from the girl who is constantly frowning and creating worry lines. and i looked at his teeth for the first time, too. he has good teeth.
maybe it was the way we were standing. i had a 3/4 view of his face, so i was catching a lot in profile. pam started making big eyed giggly faces at me and making me laugh, so i told him i'd better get back to work. the second hug was a lingering one. i felt his belly, which doesn't ever happen.
yeah, it would be nice to fall asleep on him. or something else if i was ready for a boyfriend.
but i'm not. and i know he is boyfriend material. i just can't now. not because he's not cut out for it.
joey, on the other hand... he's prime fuck buddy material. roster boy number one.
but he will not surface. it's making me crazy. i'm such a good former stalker. i should have a clue where he hides out, and i just don't. if i did, i'd walk a different way every day, with my eyes peeled, like i used to when i was in college.
i'm not afraid to cross a line with him. i'll be over the top. i don't give a fuck. because like i said before, if he rejects me, i see him once a month at worst? whatever. i don't know him at all. and i cannot really imagine him saying no to an offer of going out for drinks.
and when the girls joke about pushing me into the back room with him, i can join in on those jokes. because it makes more sense.
and intern... oh why does he torture me so? he popped up in my matches on dating site. i guess he just joined, i don't know.
he's my 85% match. of course. and when i showed nina his profile, we were cracking up about the same parts. i knew his would be good, and sure as shit, it was. he said something about his sweet chiseled ass being the first thing people notice about him. and his typical friday night answer was *fart sound*. this following about one full week running now of talking and joking about farting at work, pretty much every day. laughing to tears. and then coming home and watching fart prank videos for a few days before reading his profile. and feeling like i am regressing. like i'm 19 again or 12 again or something, maturity-wise.
finding him on there accidentally made me swoon even more than i already was this past week, with the dreams and thoughts and all. it was funny because i couldn't really recognize him from his picture. i thought it was him, paired with his username, i was sure of it. and when i looked anonymously? totally him.
finding him there also made me realize that he would just be too easy to fall for. and that, for that reason, i should not fuck him either. so help me, though... if the opportunity ever presents itself? i'm fucking him. i do not care. i will force myself to get over him after.
he is one that would be worth it, just to know what it's like. if it is in real life the way it is in my head. i'm finding out if i'm ever given the chance.
sex and farting. that's what i amount to today. the day when, if i'd stayed for more, i'd be out to dinner celebrating my eighth anniversary. quite the contrast, if i do say so myself.
pining for boys much younger than i am, who would never in a million years have me. i will be okay.
and yes. i am aware that i said 'fuck' thirteen times in this post. shit. fourteen.