Bon Anniversaire

They say it's my birthday

Okay, I'm super behind on this one. I apologize...I haven't really felt like writing lately. In truth, I've been obsessed with reading Helter Skelter. It's the story of the Charles Manson trial and it's some craaaazy stuff. 

I'm happy to report that I was completely wrong about my birthday this year. 
My desk was decorated before I got to work in the morning, and my boss had left me some treats. There were lots of happy birthday wishes and love. After work, Foxx got a group together to go for a drink. (I've come to a conclusion about him: he really can be a good guy. But a lot of the time he's kind of performing, like he has to have all attention on him. I absolutely can't stand that, and to me it seems desperate, like he needs an ego boost that badly.) 

My mom made dinner and a cake, like usual. It was pretty low-key, which is exactly what I wanted. There were a couple of points that were really fantastic. 

The first one needs back-story: 
One Sunday, really probably about a year ago, my dad walked in wearing a (I thought) very outdated shirt. Oh also, I sing in the choir which is up by the altar so I can see people coming in. I walked up and told him that I'd just gotten a very important phone call; it was the 80s and they wanted their shirt back. I guess he was pretty embarrassed, which I hadn't meant to do, but he played it off well. Not long after that, I walked into my bathroom in the morning to find the shirt hanging on the mirror. We went back and forth basically playing hide-and-seek with the shirt. The last move had been mine--way back in February. My parents had gone on a Caribbean cruise and I hid the shirt in his snorkeling gear. I guess it was pretty funny as he was hanging out on a tropical beach and pulled that bad boy out. Since that happened almost a year ago, I'd completely forgotten about it. 

I knew I was getting a Nook for my birthday. My mom pulled out a giant box, so I expected boxes inside of boxes. I kind of joked about it and she told me that I might be mistaken, they may have gotten me something else. I opened the box and wasn't surprised to find another one, and played into the joke. There were three or four boxes and finally, when I got to the end, I found my Nook wrapped up in the shirt. I laughed so hard I started crying. 

Earlier in the day, Lindbergh had sent a picture of a gift bag with the caption "Hmm...I wonder what that could be" Naturally, my reply was "A PONY!!!" 
He was invited to dinner and, the roads being pretty crappy, got there late. It also meant he didn't have time to stop by his place and get my present. I really didn't care, I'd already had a great day and it was continuing wonderfully. We all had dinner, and Lindbergh and I just hung out for a while. He was getting ready to leave, and paused while putting on his coat. He said he hadn't wanted to come empty handed, and pulled a little pink stuffed pony out of his pocket. 
So...I really did get a pony!

Maybe this is a sign of things to come, that this year will be good. I have lots of people gunning for me meeting a handsome, wonderful, wealthy man while I'm in Paris. I'm not holding my breath, but it'd be fantastic. Oh wait, no, I've already decided that it's going to happen and it's going to be Henry Cavill. Henry, are you listening?!

Birthday Greatest Hits

Presents, Cake, Richard Cranium. 

I have a love-hate relationship with my birthday. It seems that when I try to make plans, they're ruined and I'm left very disappointed. Because of that, I've learned to not bother making plans. This information gets really weird when someone asks what you're doing for your birthday. It sounds sad and pathetic, and sometimes they feel the need to make it better. That just makes me feel awkward...in all truth, I'd kind of rather lay in bed for my birthday, enjoying laziness and receiving birthday greetings on the Facebook. Well that just sounds sadder and patheticker. 

As with most things in life, I didn't just wake up one day and decide to hate my birthday. I've had some really crappy birthdays. So, let's visit them. 

The most recent one (a few years ago) happened when I was dating Redneck. If you read the blog when I had it up before, you know what a gem he was. 
My birthday must have been on a Friday or Saturday; I remember it being on the weekend. He lived a couple of hours away, and all I asked for was for him to come into town and hang out with some of my friends, whom he hadn't met. Well, he started talking about some big surprise and how he'd outdone himself. I got so excited, thinking it was going to be an amazing birthday. The big gift was that he sent me half a dozen roses at work. They were very pretty and it was very sweet, but didn't live up to the hype. Well, alright. 
He then decided he couldn't come into town because the roads weren't great and he had exams the next week. I will admit that I became stubborn, whiny, and childlike at this point. I do somewhat feel that it was deserving though, all I asked was for him to come visit. His "compromise" (which I repeatedly tried to explain isn't how compromise works) was to meet halfway for dinner. So we each drove an hour (each way) for a shitty murder mystery dinner in the basement of a Brann's. Explain to me how the roads were too bad for him to drive the two hours into town, but were okay for him to drive two hours halfway and back? 
Eh, I guess my birthday was that Sunday; I remember my parents taking me to brunch. They're the best and they always make it better. 

Going quite a bit farther back (I don't remember which birthday...I was out of high school though), we meet up with Norm. I saw in a movie once that snooty rich people called the little people Norm (normal) and, since this guy obviously wasn't important enough for me to remember much about him, he's Norm(al). Yup, I'll be the snooty bitch. 
Alright. Norm lived a couple hours away. (Looks like that's a trend...I am so weird!) He was coming to my home for the weekend...except he didn't have a car. So I drove 2 hours on Friday to pick him up and spent the night because he wanted to party. We came back Saturday and I had to work; he slept. (Uh, really. Wtf is wrong with me?) We went to a different city for dinner with one sister, then went to a play that another sister was in. It was Rocky Horror Picture Show. In hindsight, that might not have been the wisest choice. On the other hand...if you can't handle that, I want nothing to do with you. I wash my  hands, and a pox upon your family! 
That all was Saturday night, I had to sing at church on Sunday. But he decided, REALLY decided, that he HAD to be back that night. So he demanded that I drive him back two hours. We got there at 2 in the morning and he proceeded to break up with me. Umm...how did I not see that coming? I asked if I could just stay and sleep for a while; there was no way I was going to be able to make a 2 hour drive back. Luckily, my brother lived there and I was able to find his apartment and he saved me. 

Next we have my 21st birthday. My actual birthday consisted of a lot of shots with some weirdo trying to make out with me after I'd puked. Yuck, guy! Then I had a final exam the next morning. I made it through, but that wasn't fun. 
One of my friends from high school was a girl I spent a lot of time with during that year of college. We used to go dancing at one bar that always had a drawing for a VIP night. I won it right around the time of my 21st. I told her about it kind of laughingly, and said I wasn't going to do it. It was kind of a no-brainer: I've never been super popular, and I wouldn't really know what to do with something like that. She insisted that I was being ridiculous; this was the perfect opportunity for my 21st birthday and it would be a ton of fun. Well, she talked me into it. I figured that I might as well do it...if nothing else, I'd have my friend with me. 
NOPE. She talked me into doing it, I invited a bunch of people...and our football team was in some tournament. My friend's response was that it was a once in a lifetime opportunity to go...because apparently I was going to turn 21 again. I'm still waiting for that...
So, it ended up being me and 2 of my sisters. I was completely humiliated and glaringly reminded of how insignificant I am. Ugh, even thinking about it makes my skin crawl. 

Well, when I started this one I intended to just talk about the past. 

I was working on making my birthday treat for work tomorrow (I cooked! It's a big deal!) and I got a text from Lindbergh about his crappy day. He said he narrowly missed going to jail, which I tried to be calm about, but really needed an explanation on. His car basically committed suicide, so he'd borrowed one from his dad. Said borrowed car wasn't "legal." (I'm guessing...hoping?...that it was just plates or something, but I was afraid to ask) The good news is he didn't go to jail and, after paying a lot of money, will be able to fix the problem. But...wow. Then he felt that was a good time to tell me he got me a gift for my birthday. Aaaand...cue the Catholic guilt. 
Alright, I know that's not about me. But, really. Just one more thing to worry about.  

So...those are my birthdays. I already don't want to get out of bed. 
I may be getting older, but I'm not so sure I'm getting wiser. 

Lessons I've Learned

Mostly the hard way.

I seem to have a habit of looking back on my life when it's coming up on my birthday. In honor of that, I'll provide you with some of the nuggets of wisdom I've uncovered along the way. 

• Don't trust someone who uses songs to tell you how they feel.
• Exception: if he or she writes you a song. Unless they do that for everyone. Then they're just kind of a music whore. 
• Don't go to work when you're sick. Nobody wants your germs.
• Tell your parents you love them. Right now. Go do it!
• Never turn down free booze.
• This only applies when it's someone you trust. Keep your body a roofie-free zone!
• If you have to initiate conversation every time, the other person probably doesn't really want to talk to you.
• Read books and watch documentaries. Knowledge is power!
• Random compliments to/from strangers can totally make your/their day.
• LISTEN!
• It feels good when you're able to admit when you're wrong.
• Author's Note: Well, that's stupid. This whole thing is an Author's Note. Side Bar? Sure, Side Bar: nobody truly likes being wrong. But when you're able to push back your ego, fear, pride, whatever, and admit you're wrong...it's a beautiful thing.
• Nature is pretty amazing.
• The most versatile word in the English language? Fuck.
• It's really hard to learn a new language when you're old.
• Laughing is the best.
• Politics would be incredible if the whole thing wasn't so dirty and corrupt.
• Thank you notes mean a lot.
• It's good to laugh at yourself. A lot. 
• Sometimes the best thing to do is walk away.
• Classic clothes are way better than trendy ones. But, if you're me, you want them all.
• Don't go home with someone you meet at the bar.
• Fun fact: my parents met in an Officer's Club-a bar-and have been married for almost 40 years)
• It doesn't take any extra energy to be nice.
• Bonus Round: it feels good!
• It's good to forgive your exes...not necessarily to let them back into your life, though.
• Sometimes two people really are better as friends.
• It doesn't matter how much effort you put into a relationship if the other person doesn't match it. (That one goes for friendships, too).
• There's nothing better than feeling loved.
• It helps to dance while you're getting ready for work.
• It's okay to be sad, and it's okay to cry. Just not all the time.
• Sing in the car, even if people stare. They're just jealous of your awesomeness. ...you just have to keep telling yourself that.
• Sometimes the scariest things end up being the coolest. 
• They say not to compare yourself to others, but that's really hard! 
• Besides...who the hell are "they" and what are they on? I want some.
• Nobody knows everything. Everybody hates someone that things they do.
• People say a lot of things to make you feel better about a breakup. None of it works. 
• There are very, VERY few times when "Reply All" needs to be used.
• Some people are just douchebags, straight down to their core.
• Relationships are hard, and life is confusing. But the ride is kinda fun. 

So enjoy my *earth-shattering* tidbits of intelligence. Be nice, laugh at yourself and others, and enjoy your own little ride. 

How to be Thankful

Are people inherently good or inherently evil? A little bit of both.

I had a notmare last night. I'm not sure it can really be categorized as a nightmare, so it's a notmare. I fell asleep with Lindbergh (with narcolepsy, that's kind of a thing I do) and I was violently woken out of a lovely slumber. In my notmare, Soldier was breaking up with me. Again. And I was sobbing and just saying no over and over. I woke up kind of feeling like I was crying in real life. I had fallen asleep in my contacts so I'm not sure if I was crying or not...my eyes don't like me a whole lot when I sleep in contacts. But wow. Why would I dream about that? Apparently my subconscious is a giant bitch-face. I'm mad at her. 

So I've met the whole Lindbergh family now. I met Papa Lindbergh and Younger Brother Lindbergh on Thanksgiving. 
And last night when I sat up to leave, he wrapped himself around me and told me I couldn't leave because he'd miss me. I'm not sure how I feel about all this stuff. 

Alright, so I'm a couple days late, but I'm thankful for all my sexy, awesome, fun readers! (THAT'S YOU!!!) I hear that they don't celebrate Thanksgiving in other countries, but you all should get on that shit. The whole point is to stuff your faces with turkey and cranberries and mashed potatoes&gravy and sweet potatoes and pumpkin everything and spend time with your family and it's GLORIOUS. Eating and enjoying the ones you love. 
And then (because 'Murica) we ruin it all with Black Friday. Who came up with this shit? I refuse to go shopping, and don't even leave the house if I can help it. PEOPLE DIE. They have the internet for shopping now! But pretty much now until Christmas is hell at all retail establishments. Lindbergh wants to go shopping this weekend. I'm only agreeing because he'll let me pick out clothes for him. But he's kind of cheap so I'm not sure how that's going to work out. 

So in honor of Thanksgiving and the people who don't really understand what it means, I read an awesome Live Tweet a little bit ago. Read it. Read it right now! You're welcome for bringing this amusement into your life. #TeamElan 
Live Tweeting the Fight with 7A

Missed Connections

Wrong place. Wrong time. Wrong people. 

I think I'll keep going with the fun facts, I enjoyed them. So, we'll begin with one! 11. I love makeup. I call it "face art."

I finally asked Jonathan what went wrong this time. I guess I knew it was coming, and decided to just ask for posterity's sake. He quickly replied that he was thinking the same thing (riiight). He said he decided he doesn't like the distance. It was cowardly, really. I tried to be very mature and say that it was unfortunate, and that I thought we were both missing out. He agree and said that he wished he could be a better man. (Alright, I maybe made that last bit up. But he might as well have said it! The whole thing reeked of piteousness.) He said that he's right to keep his distance from everyone because he doesn't want to hurt anyone, especially me (buuuullshiiit). I told him it was a self-fulfilling prophecy, and that it goes along quite well with my own: that nobody ever cares enough to fight for me. He didn't answer. Coward-douche-sissy-jerk-face.

Things are getting dangerously close to girlfriend territory with Lindbergh. Yesterday we went to a 2 year old's birthday party. They're some good friends of his and I was surrounded by people I didn't know. (12. I get very nervous in crowds and around new people. So you put me in a large group of new people and I'm pretty much a wreck.) It seemed to start off okay at first, but not too far in one of the girls introduced me as his girlfriend. I think I had a panicked look on my face and he turned to me and goes "that was weird." It most certainly was! But how would I explain that? "Yeah, no, I like him...and he really likes me, but we're not really dating. The idea of actually dating kind of makes me want to run away and scream. That's common, right? ...Who wants cake?!" The longer we were there the more I felt like I was suffocating. I want to punch Soldier right in his stupid face because he's messed me up like this. There are really some days when I'd just prefer to be completely single and alone. (13. Being around people for very long makes me really tired. I'm quite the introvert.) I dunno. Most times I just wish I could have Soldier back. (14. I hate winter and cold more than I hate anything else. And I hate a lot of things.)

Luna will be in town this week for Thanksgiving. She really wants to hang out and get together another girls night. Oy. If we remember back, I decided I can't really do that anymore. Plus, since she's here, there's a higher chance of me seeing Soldier. What would I do? I feel like I'd have to leave, I don't think I'd be able to handle it. We'll see, I suppose. (15. Being a pushover means I have a hard time saying no to things like that. Dumb.)

And now it's bedtime, even though I'll probably just lay here for a while. Oh wellsies...doux rêves!

Time to Give Thanks

To everything, there is a season


It's tiiiiime for an update! As can be expected, I've been spending a lot of my time with Lindbergh. 

Oh! I just had an idea. On my facebook lately a lot of people have been doing this thing where they get a number and name that many random things about themselves. I'm having an introspective night, so welcome to the world that is Laura!
1. I like to do yoga while watching Jeopardy. I call it Yogardy. (I'm doing it now!)
    1.a. I feel that education and intellect is suffering in my country, so I consciously try to learn all     kinds of new things
2. I hate going to any type of doctor, and I always put it off as long as possible. 
3. I try to put up a tough front, but I'm a huge pushover.
4. I don't take compliments well (I make it awkward), but I really love getting recognition for my         hard work
5. I believe reality TV shows are crap. 
6. I thought I was an open book, but I'm starting to consider that I have some real commitment, trust, and separation issues.

Bam! Segue way back to the story! 
So I've been spending a lot of time with Lindbergh...we've hung out with Mama Lindbergh and Brother Lindbergh and it's been fun. This past weekend I woke up early and asked him if he wanted to go for a hike. He told me he had the perfect spot and just said to meet at his place. He took us to a beachy area, and I wasn't thrilled. Windier, colder, and sandier than a regular hike...uh, no thanks. (7. I'm always worrying about something. Even if it's something I've made up in my silly little mind.)  He kept asking me to trust him, and I just kept walking and trying to stop being bitchy. (I'm ashamed to say it was kind of difficult.) I don't want to get to descriptive, but it was definitely worth it when we reached our destination. Absolutely beautiful and amazing, and way more than I deserve. I'm not entirely sure why he wants so badly to keep me around. 

I had a girls night with Ginny, Luna, and another girl last weekend. Ginny is the wife of one of Soldier's best friends, and Luna is Soldier's cousin. I wrestled with it for a while; I really wasn't sure it was a good idea. Turns out it wasn't. I have a hard enough time on my own...I can't handle it when I have to hear about Soldier and his family and friends and act like it doesn't tear me apart. As much as it sucks, I don't think I can do girls nights anymore. He's seriously messed up my mind and life. (Yeah, I know that sounds pathetic. Can't help it.) (8. I put on the high maintenance, princess air, and I put on the cold, independent front. More than anything, I just want love...to simultaneously take care of someone and have them take care of me.) 

Einstein sent me a text a week or two ago. Back story: Einstein was the Valedictorian of my high school. He went to a top school, has been recruited by top companies, and now works for a Fortune 500. Ridiculously smart, very nice, and has always had a bit of a thing for me. We skyped the other day and have decided we should get together when he's in town for Thanksgiving. (9. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. It's all about food and family, without the distraction of material items.) Overactive mind thinks it's pointless and stupid, but oh well. 

Now, it's very, veryvery much bedtime. (10.  I have narcolepsy, but I don't sleep well. That means I can't stay awake when I should be able to, but I'm really tired when I am awake. It's pretty much the WORST.) Hmm. Maybe the fun facts will be an ongoing thing. We'll see. Anyway, goooood night!

Forbidden Fruit

When the thing you want most in the world is the one thing you can't have

In the last post, I forgot to give an update on Soldier. We went back and forth on our Facebook messaging a little bit. At one point he asked if I just wanted to get back together. The problem is, I'm not sure if he was asking if I want to get back together, or if he was asking if that's the only thing I want. Well, yes on both accounts! Although, I guess that's not really a problem, because I'm not going to push it and I'm sure he's not going to say anything. I'm supposed to have a Girls Night with Ginny and some of the other girls next weekend and I'm already dreading it a little bit.

I think I mentioned coming to visit my brother and his this weekend. I wasn't sure about it, but I'm really glad I came out. My brother and I got some bonding time, which was great, and we got in some good hiking. It was awesome...we hiked up this not-mountain that I kept calling Hogsmeade and we just looked over everything up at the top. Very naturey and beautiful.

Hanging out with my mom and dad and brother and pregnant sister-in-law is definitely making my biological clock tick more loudly. I mean, it's always ticking in the back of my mind. But I will say that I'm uber excited for my brother and sisinlaw. (Yup, I just made it one word. Whatcha gonna do bout that?! Nothin. That's what I thought. Unh!) They'll be ridiculously amazing parents so that's great.

I've found myself talking (and thinking) an equal amount about Lindbergh and Soldier this weekend. I miss them both. And I seriously wish I could get past Soldier...but that doesn't seem to be happening. Stupid feels.

I can tell that I'm holding back a bit with Lindbergh. It started more as friends and he's really grown on me, and I really like him. But there's always the thought in the back of my mind about him having been married. He's been through it all. And it seems like, even if things did get to that point with us, he would be overly cautious and leery of moving things forward. But we also agreed to not talk about that stuff haha. I'm so ridiculous sometimes! But I also don't know how I could move on with him when I'm still thinking quite a bit about Soldier.

What drives me nuts is I'm ready. I'm ready for something more. I love when people tell you it'll happen when you least expect it. Well, fuck, I've stopped expecting anything! I didn't expect anything with Soldier, and look where that got me. I didn't expect to talk to Jonathan again, and look where that got me. I didn't expect to meet Scotch, and look where that got me. Nothing works, no matter what I do or don't do.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not feeling sorry for myself...at least not right this second. It's more along the lines of pondering. More like...that's just how it is. But, it still sucks. I'm damned if I do, damned if I don't. The end.

The Presence and/or Absence of Tact

Deciding how much of an asshole to be.

Sorry about the short hiatus. It wasn't really intentional...I've been spending so much time with Lindbergh and my sleep schedule has been all crazy like. So I would basically like to spend all my time sleeping, but I have that pesky job to go to. But because I really like my job, I get all excited and work hard and tax my brain. Then I'm super tired by the end of the day and I just want to sleep, but I hang out with Lindbergh again and stay up too late and it's worse the next day. Blergy blerg blerg. 

Alright, enough whining, on to the story. 
A couple of weeks ago Lindbergh and I had plans to go to a local restaurant that does open mic nights on Thursdays. He sent me a text that day and told me he still wanted to hang out, but that there was a catch. It was his mom's birthday and she wanted to go to open mic. Trying to be nice, I told him that he should hang out with them and humor his mum for her birthday. He let me know that I'd missed the point--he wanted me to come with. Then he pointed out that I should be flattered; he doesn't ever invite women to meet his mom. 
Instead of feeling flattered, it kind of freaked me out. Okay, a lot of stuff freaks me out, it really doesn't take much...but meeting parents isn't generally one of those things. That might be because it's more of a rarity for people not to meet my parents. I think it spooked me because he made it sound like a big deal, and that made things seem very serious. But I agreed. 

We went to the restaurant a little early to get some food, and because I was unnaturally nervous. What bothered me so much? I still don't know. The friends showed up a little after we did. I've met them all before, and one is a pretty awesome girl that I went to high school with. Well, Mama Lindbergh showed up and it was all fine, but I spent the whole time feeling anxious. 
I've seen Mama Lindbergh a few times since then, and I met Brother Lindbergh this past weekend. Mama even had us over for breakfast on Sunday. I'm also now friends with both of them on the Facebook. Lindbergh also made a point of telling me that his best friend seems to like me, which is evidently an uncommon occurrence. 

I've stayed over at Lindbergh's apartment a few times, and things are pretty comfortable. There was only one situation that bothered me. We were at another open mic night, and the best friend was trying to get me to sing with him. I was looking through the book of songs and Lindbergh turned to his mom and said "she's a singer, what a surprise." He then explained to me that he's only ever dated singers. I'm not sure if it annoyed me because he just made a snide, smartass remark about me, or because he'd just grouped me with every other girl. Whatever the reason, it kind of pissed me off...I tried to brush it off, but it's still obviously in my head a little. 
The next day he apologized and we agreed that there was no point in dwelling on a silly remark. How adult of us! Last weekend we almost had The Talk. I can't remember how it came up, but we both hate it, so we didn't have it. Hooray! But I'm comfortable with where things are.

Jonathan is out of the picture. Once again, he just kind of disappeared. I should have expected it, but I'm a pushover. So, I say Good Riddance! I'm sure he'll try to come back around again and I hope I have the willpower to tell him to buzz off. (OMG when did people stop saying that?! I'm gonna bring it back. YOU'RE WELCOME.) 

Here you are though: the best part of the blog! An update on Foxx. I've gotten so annoyed with him hitting on me all the time that I can't listen to the sound of his voice. Well, that's part of the reason. The other part is that he never freaking stops making noise! It's like he can't handle it if he thinks he might not be getting attention. Gaaawd it's so annoying. 
Last week we had a Halloween pot luck that my little committee (of which Foxx is also a member) put together. Costumes were encouraged, I went as The Raven. (Except people kept asking if I was Black Swan and it was obnoxious). Foxx's costume? He came as Captain Mile High. To work. To the office. To his place of employment. Just....what...why....just wtf? So much douchery. Oh. Even better though: he didn't contribute to the pot luck, but he was happy to eat the food and hang out with everyone. And after that he went out to lunch with one of our other coworkers. A few weeks ago he wanted me to entertain him, that he was bored and he just did his work as a byproduct. 

I think his intention is to be coy and suave, but it just makes him more and more sleazy in my eyes. Funsies, since I have to work with him every day. He also, for some reason, seems to keep thinking I'm the bee's knees. (BOOM. Bringing that back too!) 

Alright, my lovelies, that's the update for now. My parents and I are headed up to see my brother and his wife this weekend. She's pregnant, so I get to rub her cute little belly. Yup, I'm that girl, rubbin all the fetus bellies. Only people I know, though. I'm crazy, but I'm not that crazy!

Playing with Fire

Eventually you're gonna get burned

I still feel guilty about dating more than one guy. But I like both Lindbergh and Jonathan, I don't know what to do about it. 
It makes me melt when Jonathan tells me how much he misses me and can't wait to see me. But I'm actually able to see Lindbergh. 

He and I had a really good date night yesterday. Lindbergh's apartment is really close to my office, so usually I just go there from work. We decided to go out to eat and, since I was a little dressed up, he stepped his game up. We went to a nice restaurant that was absolutely delicious. The restaurant is actually for a culinary school, so everything is pretty gourmet for relatively cheap. I had duck breast with wild mushroom risotto, braised greens, and some kind of fig/raisin chutney. A-maze-ing. Some yummy wine was involved, and incredible dessert. We laughed so much, it was just really a good time. 

We were having a ton of fun, so we continued at the wine bar. One of the hostesses (hosti?) stopped on her way out and said that she had to tell me that I'm completely adorable and how lucky Lindbergh was to be out with me. It was very, very sweet. Then a waiter came over and told us how much fun it looked like we were having. He said we seemed like cool people and we looked good together. Then he said he wanted to show us something, did the basic magic trick, and ended up with a quarter in his hand. Silly, but I was completely enthralled and flattered. And possibly a little tipsy. But, that's kinda standard. Eh, it happens. Anyway, the waiter said it was our lucky quarter and that we had to keep it forever and ever (amen) and enjoy the night. And we did. After the wine bar we went back to his apartment and watched a movie and cuddled. 

Last night he was out with friends and I found myself missing him a bit. 

Now for the update on Soldier. I wish he wouldn't have messaged me, I was doing okay. He ruined that. Thinking more and more about his feeling "shameful" for messaging me, I eventually said as much. He replied that he was ashamed of his drunkenness and not being able to keep his shit together, then said that he does care about me. He went on to say that he hadn't wanted to treat me badly. That I wanted more and felt more than he did. But here's my favorite part: "I wished I felt differently because you are pretty great." 
Ouch. I'm sure that was well intentioned, (umm, computer says that's not a word, but I really think it is. If it isn't, it should be. I so decree.) but it kind of feels like lemon juice in a papercut. (UGH apparently paper cut is two words. I think it should be one. Why is my computer so uppity today?!) The way I see it is more like "yeah, sure, you're great. Just not that great. I couldn't quite force myself to want your lackluster greatness." So...lame. Now I get to try and get back to okay. 

I've been thinking more and more lately about getting out of town again. Not so much to run away from anything, but to have my own life and my own adventure. Maybe I will stay in Paris. 
No, no I won't. But that'd be pretty sweet, huh?

Every Day is a Winding Road

I get a little bit closer

To what? Sorry, I'll try to keep the soul searching to a minimum. And I know I'm overdue on an update. I should also be sleeping though, because work has been very busy this week and tomorrow's kind of crunch time.

As expected, I went to sleep instead of finishing this post last night. But that's probably good, there's quite a bit more to write today. Alright so...we start back at last Friday. 

I went back and forth many times, but I finally bit the bullet and went out with Foxx (the coworker). We went to a new wine bar that opened up in town, and it was actually a nice time. For a while. Then it turned into "I've gotta ask...why are you single?" 
UGH. What IS that question?! WHY do people ask that shit?! So my answer was "If I knew the answer to that, I wouldn't be single." It then turned into him semi-trying to convince me that it would be okay to date a coworker. I "listened"...in one ear and out the other. I don't really see dating a coworker as a problem...I see the possible end of the relationship being a problem. How would you work with somebody after that? Okay, that may be a pessimistic way to look at it, but I also feel it's a realistic way to look at it. So, I tried to explain some reasons it might not be a good idea, and I thought I got through. You can guess---that was a no. It's toned down, but there are less veiled comments and more outright hitting on me. We had a work happy hour this evening, and my personal bubble was basically nonexistent. I'm not entirely sure what to do about this. 

Next: Lindbergh. I'm still spending a lot of time with him. Last Saturday we spent basically all day together...we went to lunch, then got ice cream, then just hung out. Oh, he was super cute yesterday. Monday was National Dessert Day (apparently that's a thing). I helped him do some work in the evening, and then we went out to eat. We'd planned on getting dessert but were both too full. So he decided to make up for that yesterday. I had to do some work after hours (btw, doing work at home is totally not an issue when you have an awesome job and coworkers that appreciate you!) so I had to do some work after hours and I brought it over to his place (he lives close to my office). He put in a movie and I did my work, and it was really nice to hang out while I had to do something. He made popcorn and insisted that you can't have popcorn without a beer (agreed). A little bit later, he got dessert ready: he'd picked up some giant brownies (with sprinkles) from a local bakery, warmed them up, and paired them with port. It was a really nice, simple night. 

On deck: Jonathan. We still talk, and I'm going to visit him in a couple weeks. It sucks to miss him as much as I do. It wouldn't be as bad if he worked regular business hours, but he works pretty much a million hours a week. Which isn't even humanly possible, but he finds a way to do it. The sad thing is, I think we could really have a good chance if we lived in the same place. As it is...we're two hours away. (Weekends? Refer back to his work schedule) He has absolutely no desire to come back home, and...I mean, how could I leave my job? I really love it. What's going to happen there? And how could it? It's stupid, really. And yet...stooory ooof my liiife. 

And now: the coup de grâce. At least, with all these guy issues, I wish it were. Soldier sent me a message last night. I didn't get it till a few hours after he sent it...it was in the middle of the night when I saw it, and it was more shocking than anything else. He simply asked what I was up to. A drunken attempt at a booty call? Possibly. I replied, then saw his car still at the bar this morning. So, possibly a drunken attempt at a booty call. Late this morning he said he didn't remember sending the message, that he'd been very drunk, and that he felt shameful. Shameful? Really? Ouch. 
Anyway, we chatted a bit and then the conversation just petered out. You know, I really didn't see him following the pattern. The boys always come back...it starts with drunken attempts at contact and then progresses. Apparently I was wrong on that end. I seemed to have the upper hand in the conversation...that was probably in my head though. Why did he have to do this when I'm actually starting to move on? 
I'm feeling very drained; this week has been very demanding. I probably would have been okay had the Soldier issue not been...well, an issue. There's more to discuss, but that'll have to be for another post. 

Until next time, my dears. 

Team Laura

How can you leave the past behind when it keeps finding ways to get to your heart?

Wow, I seem to have a fan club brewing. Truth be told, I’m not a super fan of the fan club. I used to be great at juggling guys, and it didn’t bother me. All’s fair in love and war, and all that. Now I just feel guilty about it. I think that’s partly to do with an increasing feeling of restlessness. I love my job, and I’m good at what I do (it’s a beautiful thing when the two cross over), and I’m relatively happy with things and I wish I had someone to share it with. The problem is I seriously hate dating, and I’m picky.

Alright so an update on things.

I’m still talking to Jonathan (albeit not as much as I’d prefer). I’m still really into him, but I hate feeling like I’m not entirely sure of his feelings. And I’ve never understood why, if you’re thinking of someone and care about them, it’s difficult to take a few seconds to send a quick text. (that’s not a direct criticism of Jonathan, I just have to say things as I’m thinking them or I’ll forget. And then the world will miss out on my witty lines and deep conversation!)

I’m starting to cool on Lindbergh a bit. I feel terrible about this, since it’s the same thing I did last time. But I’m not entirely sure what to do about it; there probably isn’t really anything I CAN do about it.

I got a long text from Cowboy last night. He’s been working in the mountains with no service, misses talking to me, and still wants me to come visit. He suggested a weekend; he picked it because he has a hockey tournament and would love to have me be there for the tournament.  Damn it! I’m a sucker for things like that. How can I possibly move on from this when he’s telling me he wants me to be there to watch him play hockey, and just that he wants me to be there in general? Oh, side note: hockey is the only sport I actually care about. So that’s a double-whammy. (Do people say that anymore? Double-whammy? It sounds stupid. Eh, it’s there now.)

I also got a text yesterday from, well I can't remember the name I gave him and I can't find it in my earlier posts, asking if I want to go to a costume party this weekend. Yes, I do, because I don’t think people throw nearly enough costume parties. But no, I don’t really want to go with him. I should probably just not.

AND, the coworker wants to hang out this weekend. I kind of put myself in this position though. I snapped at him the other day and told him I owed him for being epic-bitch-face. He suggested drinks and plans escalated to patronizing an “urban” bar/club. (Oh yeah, I had to ask what he meant by “urban” hahaha). Should be super interesting, especially since he told me that if he slaps me on the butt and kisses me on the mouth I should just roll with it. Well, here’s my solution, and (surprise!) it might not be the best one: fine. Just fine. We’ll go out, I’ll let him have his fun (up to a point!), and he’ll see that it’s not all he’s imagining. Then it’ll be problem solved and no more thinly veiled sexual tension on his part! Let me sidebar at this point. Though it may be questionable at times, I am in fact a semi-intelligent person. So, I do realize that this is probably not how the scenario will play out. I also realize that it will probably result in a bigger headache on my part. But, having tried to ignore it and also to talk about it, this is my next approach. Wish me luck.

Well, I was starting to think that with all this other stuff going on, I didn’t have as much time to think about and miss Soldier. Ha. Haha. That’s the universe laughing at me. I forgot to mention in my last post that, on my way back from visiting Jonathan, I was stuck behind a car that was purchased at some dealership with Soldier’s last name. (Does that make sense? It’s really hard to describe it without using the actual name on this one). Just a few minutes ago, Soldier sent me a connection request on LinkedIn. Really? You broke my heart and now won’t even talk to me, but you want to use me for your professional networking? That’s a little cruel. I’m still trying to decide whether to accept it or not.

So, I guess that’s the update for now. You know I’ll add more when I have it…in the meantime, I’ll continue to be conflicted by my feelings, and lack thereof, on various gentlemen.

Decisions

Being an adult is hard.

I've been spending quite a bit of time with Lindbergh lately, and we've been having a lot of fun. Last weekend we got all gussied up and went to dinner at a semi-fancy restaurant and an art event in a neighboring city. The event is a really cool thing, art is installed all over the city...so we wandered through the city, in the dark, drinking and looking at art. It was great. We've gone out for dinner and drinks a couple of other times, and also just spent some time relaxing and hanging out. I started really wanting to talk to him and see him, and I enjoyed spending time with him. I've really enjoyed it. 

Last night I went to visit Jonathan. We went to dinner and did some grocery shopping, then played a drinking game to The Walking Dead. We fell asleep cuddling on the couch after a few episodes and just went to bed when we woke up. Neither of us have any idea how long we were sleeping, and we felt really old for our uninspiring Friday night. I'm not sure I would have wanted the night to go otherwise, though. It was nice to continue getting to know him again. This morning I made breakfast, which is really kind of a big thing. (I'm not exactly Martha Stewart, and I cook as little as possible, but I can rock breakfast. We had french toast turned awesome...I mixed pumpkin spice, vanilla, and cayenne pepper in with the egg. We also had some apple kind of syrup; the combination was deliciously fall. Psh. Any guy would be lucky to have me.) 
After breakfast we listened to some music, hung out, watched some football. Jonathan manages a restaurant, so I came home this afternoon. I wasn't happy about that, I didn't want to leave. I tried to make it easy and simple...I hope it worked. Before I left, we were just laying there, tracing fingertips along each other's arms. Okay, okay, I know it sounds super cheesy put into words. The most romantic things do, I've thought so myself. I almost started crying, I hate goodbyes. But, I didn't. I was a good girl; smiled, pet the dog, kissed Jonathan, and left. It was too short, but I enjoyed the time we spent. I really enjoyed it. 

Oh, hey, let's have some fun and throw another wrench in there! I checked my phone this morning and had a Facebook message. From Cowboy. H.o.l.y. c.r.a.p. Nothing is ever simple. Well, Cowboy said that he was working in the mountains and had no service, but he still wants me to come visit. He said he's worried that I thought he changed his mind, but he'd love for me to come out. Well, of course I thought he changed his mind. I ruled that out; it wasn't going to happen. So, that should be it. That should be it! WHY is that not it? That's just a source of stress that I don't need or want. I'm feeling circumspect, and I hope that remains. 

So, what do I do? Let's go through the options (Cowboy not being one of them..."fool me once..." and all that)
Lindbergh- Pros: He's goofy, takes me as I am; he cares about me a lot; he tells and shows me that he cares about me; he's comfortable. Cons: He's not terribly mature; he doesn't really seem to have a long-term plan; he's been married before and I'm guessing isn't holding his breath to jump back into holy matrimony. 
Jonathan-Pros: He keeps popping up and bringing me back to him; he has a successful job and goals; he's responsible but fun; I could see myself waking up with him. Cons: He lives two hours away...I don't think he has any desire to move back, and I'm not moving for a guy again without a princess cut solitaire from Tiffany's on third finger of my left hand; I keep second-guessing how he feels about me. 

None of that helps or gives me an answer. That brings up the next question: what about Soldier? Eh, nothing about Soldier. I haven't forgotten, and it hasn't gotten easier. I don't think about him any less. I've gotten used to the fact that he's not coming back. I really, reallyreally hate the phrase, but...it is what it is. 

I'm not interested in flings anymore, so I guess I don't really have any idea what'll happen. My focus is on my job; it's going really well and I love it. Of course I want someone to love me, but I can function without that. It is what it is...la vie est un beau gâche. 

Unsolicited Attention

Oh hey there, stalker. 
(You're obviously not doing a very good job as the point of stalking someone is for them to not know about it. And you're just right there, out in the open. Being all "Heeey, look at me! Over here! Hey, heyheyhey! Looove meeeee!" It's just not right. You fail at everything.)

Let me start by saying that I'm glad I postponed the rest until today....more has happened. Let's see...I think we stopped off Saturday morning. I say that, because it was about 5 by the time I felt okay to sleep. I'm so glad I had Wolverine here, I just felt so much better. He had to get up in the morning so I was up at about 9. I mostly did stuff around the house, and felt okay I guess, just very tired and worn out. Well, I thought so at least. At one point I went outside to look for a package and I got spooked; I had to run back inside. I think my head had this idea of the house being a safe space and being outside was open and risky. So I stayed inside for the rest of the day until one of my girl friends came over and we went out for a girls night.

Side note: I love the girls nights we have. But, it was Soldier's cousin and best friend's wife. So, while I wouldn't give those nights up for anything, they make me feel like my heart has been re-ripped out of my chest. I hate having to hear about him and what they're doing, I still feel like I should be part of the group.

It was great...we got pedicures and went out for dinner, and then one of the girls came over to hang out for a bit. I was fine. Sunday was okay, until it started to get later in the day and my parents weren't home yet. Luckily, Lindbergh cashed in the raincheck to hang out. At some point, I got a text from the guy (sorry, he's not even worth an alias) asking if we weren't talking anymore. Tip: if you have to ask, you already know the answer! So, I didn't give him one, thinking it would be the end of that. Man, I'm so wrong lately!

Monday was a typical Monday. I didn't really want to tell everyone about my weekend, so I tried to gloss over it. Nope. I received flowers at work. (They're really pretty, but I just can't appreciate them as much as I'd like to). I was pretty sure they were from the guy and hesitated in opening the card...I should have not opened it at all. It had a quote from Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. This is pertinent because it's a play I had a leading role in when I was in high school. I played Titania, and we actually flew (it was freaking awesome!). The card went on to say that it was the earliest memory he had of me, and that he was sorry. 
To be honest, I was pissed. He had made me question my safety, which I could halfway conceal. Now he was affecting my work? Fuck that shit. I love my job and I'm relatively good at it, and I want that kind of crap staying out of it. So it was kind of another blow to my security and my somewhat stable life. What really made me livid was all of my coworkers asking about it. I don't want them to know what a mess my life really is! But of course people ask when you get flowers. Everyone does. I do. Well, a few of them bugged me about it until I told them the story...then they felt bad for asking. I was panicked, and a few male coworkers were nice enough to walk me to my car after work. 
The 'rents were home when I got there, which was a bit of a relief. I was okay until I got a text asking if I got the flowers. Then I started to crack a bit again. I said yes. Then I got this apology, that he thinks I'm great, that he's sorry he put me in that position (does he even realize?), and that he understands if I want him to back off. I figured my lack of response was response enough. Guess what....w-r-o-n-g. 

Oh, I missed a part. On Monday, I got a text from Jonathan asking how my weekend was. I was leery, and somehow got my point across that my feelings were hurt; that I would really have liked to see him while he was in town. We kind of hashed it out a bit; he let me know that he was thinking of me and missing me, even if I didn't realize it. It meant a lot to me. As you've probably noticed, I'm needy with attention. I question things a lot and need affirmation. So, we talked about it quite a bit and we have plans for me to visit next weekend. I really really wish it was this weekend, but I'll take what I can get. 

Sorry, getting back to the story. Now it's Wednesday (and I should be sleeping, I'm staying up just for you. You should feel guilty, it's actually affecting my health!). Yesterday evening my boss asked me to help with a tour this morning and I accepted without a second thought. That's one of the things I love about my boss and job; I'm trusted enough to be able to handle important things at the last minute. With the tour in mind, Jonathan helped me pick out a professional but attractive outfit for work. Sorry, off topic again. I was on my way to work this morning and got a text from him saying that he thought  he'd be at my office. It didn't take long to make the connection. 
I could have let somebody know, but I didn't. My boss is a wonderful lady, and she would have taken the responsibility by herself if I'd told her, and I wasn't about to make her do that. On the other hand, I didn't want to look like I couldn't handle things. So I kept it in and fought nausea for most of the day. 
The tour went fine, but I didn't like it. I don't him anywhere near me and I'd like to just pretend that all of this crap didn't happen. Here's the thing: I know there's a good chance that I'm overreacting...to me, that doesn't matter. If someone makes me feel unsafe for one second, that's too much. I shouldn't even have to give that a thought. So, I'm probably overreacting, it's probably fine; I'm not taking a chance on probably. That's it, end of discussion. Anyway I got back to my desk after the tour and there were 3 texts from him. Nothing worth repeating; just trying to talk to me and act like everything was fine. I again ignored it. 

The stress of this is catching up with me. I don't exactly handle stress well, I keep it all up inside and it starts to hurt my muscles and joints. I know I'm going to have to eventually shut it down, but I'm not prepared for that. I'd like to be able to ignore problems and have them go away (so would everyone else, amirite). 
For now, it's bedtime. Past bedtime. I'd be okay with not having new stuff to post for a few days...but if anything "exciting" happens, you know that you'll be the first to know!

Digging a Hole

In which our unfortunate heroine finds she may be in over her head. 

I've been procrastinating on writing this post. Even now, while I have it started, I'm probably going to keep going back to the Pinterest and the Facebook and it'll take a long time to get through this. The past week or so has been all over the place. 

Last week (was it only a week ago?), I relented and talked to Cowboy. It was nice to catch up. There are a few guys that I'll probably always hold a candle for, and he's one of them. Why? I'm not entirely sure. But, I was wary at first to talk to him and then, as can be predicted, I kind of caved. Then we were just catching up and I really liked it. He quickly suggested I come visit him and started looking for plane tickets, even saying he'd just get them and asked what dates would work. I was really sleepy and couldn't think, and I wasn't entirely sure what to do about Jonathan. I told him not to order them and that I'd check it out the next day. So I sent him a text the next day and he said he'd call me after work. Suuurpriiiise...he didn't. Haven't heard from him since. 

So with that, let's check up on Jonathan. I like him, I really do. I just don't know what he's thinking...I can't tell that he's really interested in something with me. I don't know. Anyway he turned out to be in town this weekend for a wedding. I found out the location this week, and was more than a little hurt that he was going to be in town and didn't care about seeing me. So at that he sent me a sad face and I sent a terse message back. He didn't answer, and I thought he'd stopped talking to me. He happens to have just sent me a text though. He's making his schedule for next month and wants to take a weekend off to see me. That's good, right? Shit. I almost feel like it's time for the dreaded conversation...but I absolutely hate that. Everybody hates that. I just hate the relationship limbo. Which leads me...to the awful that was this past Friday night. 

There's been a guy that's been wanting to hang out, so I finally gave in. We went for drinks after work, and it was fine. Later on, he was at a party out by my house and wanted to come over. I wasn't sure, but he told me he just wanted to be friends and that we'd just hang out and it'd be fun. So, fine, he came over. Well apparently "being friends" is guy speak for "I'mma try and get all up in yo business." I should have known that. Anyway that happened, and I didn't really appreciate it. I know, I know, how ungrateful of me. I decided it was time to part ways, I wasn't really feeling the turn the night was taking. 
I tried to move things in the leaving direction, and he started talking about how wonderful I am. He conveniently snuck in there that he wanted to know where my bed was-umm NO. How he really wants to get to know me and wants me to get to know him...he even cried. HE CRIED.  C-R-I-E-D. Dude. Even if I wasn't already half creeped out, yeah, I'd like to be the woman in the relationship. So, obviously, things are starting to get weirder and more uncomfortable. Well, I accidentally went into emotionless-cutthroat-bitch mode. By that, I mean I just stopped caring. I wanted him out and I wanted him out NOW. Something about it just seemed really off...I know this is exaggerating, but the kind of manipulation an abuser uses. So, I told him I thought he was trying to be manipulative and I wasn't buying it, and that it was time to go. He got upset that I thought he was being manipulative, but he left.

Scratch that, he "left." He kept calling and, when I looked out my window, his car was still in the driveway. No thanks! I didn't answer the calls, but then he came back to the door. NO THANKS. He asked if he could stay over; he wasn't sure he could drive. 
I know this sounds really bad on my part. I'm okay with that. It probably would have been fine, probably wouldn't have been a big deal. But when you make me question my safety and well-being, probably isn't good enough. Besides that, he had 2 or 3 beers...and making sure he's sober isn't my responsibility. So, I told him that I didn't think it was a good idea and I wasn't comfortable with it. He got offended and asked if I thought he was "that kind of guy." I'm pretty proud of my witty response: "every guy is that kind of guy." He got pissed and stormed off, then send me angry texts. 

I'm not sure exactly what snapped right then, and I'm not sure why I felt so wrong about everything that happened...but at that moment I broke down. I couldn't handle it, I felt like I was completely vulnerable and exposed. I sobbed and looked around for some sort of protection while trying to make it seem like I wasn't even moving. Like if I hid I could pretend I wasn't there. I sent texts to Soldier and his best friend, hoping one of them would be awake and keep me safe. They didn't answer, and I got the idea to text Wolverine. Thankfully, he was awake and came over. I remember burying my face in his chest and just clutching at him and being slightly hysterical. But, I was able to sleep because I know he'd never let anything happen to me, and I knew that I was okay with him there. 

I know I'm not ending on a happy note, but it's way past my bedtime. I'll try and continue the story tomorrow. Jusqu'a demain mes amis! 

Hodgepodge

“A good story should make you laugh, and a moment later break your heart.”—Chuck Palahniuk

Now we get into some random events and musings over the past week or so. Different parts will have different fonts. 

We start back at the conference.

I have a coworker (Foxx) who, for a while, may or may not have been hitting on me. I didn’t want to read too much into it, and I didn’t want to acknowledge it if he was. He’s the kind of guy that is a little loud and boisterous, and kind of seems like he’s trying to cover up some insecurities. Seriously, the guy is more of a diva than I am…and that’s saying a lot. A LOT…I mean I’m more diva than most girls. Anyway, more and more, he would say things that made me lean toward the yes. I just kept ignoring it.

Some of us carpooled, and he had put dibs on riding with me. Well, when it came time to leave, he was a little behind so he didn't end up riding in my car. I was okay with that. I didn’t really want to listen to him for the two hour car ride. Eh, none of that really has any bearing on the rest of the story. Let’s see, what did I leave out from the last post? I’m too lazy to look, so some of this might be overlap. Sorry! But not really.

The first night of the conference, there was a networking reception, which included drinks. We all got a little bit socially lubricated, and continued the party in the casino. Somewhere in there, Foxx started texting me. Innocent, right? Wrong. Eventually he point blank asked me to have a sleepover. Uh, we all know he didn’t intend any sleeping to be going on. I declined, and he said he wanted to reserve my evening for the following day. I didn’t confirm (and as we already know, I ended up spending both evenings with Jonathan). The next day I felt a little awkward and tried to see him as little as possible without making it too obvious. Then, again, the booze flowed. He’s actually the coworker I took tequila shots with, but everything was innocent and cordial. I could tell he was trying to butter me up, but I did my best to act innocent and unassuming. That all went fine and just as I was getting back to meet Jonathan, he wanted to know about our sleepover that night. It was a little late, I could pretend that I was sleeping; I just didn’t answer.

Problem solved, right? Wrong. The day that we got back was a short one, and I made a beeline to my house and my bed. He continued to text me and tell me how fun it was to take shots and that we should hang out. At this point I figured I couldn’t just ignore it anymore. So, I tried to be diplomatic and say that we worked together and that it might be prudent to be careful on that end. Well, of course that turned into “oh, no, that wasn’t my intent. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I mean you’re great and all, but we work together.” Umm, DUDE. First off, you asked for a sleepover. A SLEEPOVER. Not once, but twice! Secondly , did you just reject me? Now it makes me look like an asshole.  I thought that was the end of it, but he still texts me borderline flirting texts. I’m just trying to keep my head down and not invite any assumptions about something going on. But, also, definitely not sleeping with him.

Another one has joined the ranks of the returnees. Let’s see, short history of Cowboy. I had a crush on this guy in high school, but he wouldn’t give me the time of day. Fast forward quite a few years (feeling old again!) and…hmm. How did that even start? Well, I do know that he had moved far away, to the Wild West-ish. (Hence-Cowboy. Although I already know you figured that out cause you’re so smart!) Maybe he’d messaged me on the Facebook that he was coming to visit? Sure, let’s go with that. Anyway we somehow ended up hanging out. We hung out quite a bit, I was so wonderful, he was so wonderful, blahblahblah. Sounds great, right? Wrong. He just kind of disappeared; didn't even say goodbye. I heard form him after a while: he was so sorry, he'd been scared, there were so many feels and he wanted to make it up to me. Umm...turns out...I had already committed...an infraction. Yeah I'm gonna leave it at that. Needless to say we didn't talk for a while. Eventually, though, we made up. 

Cowboy came back into town quite a while after that and wanted to see me again. It was wonderful, he was wonderful, blahblahblah. Great, right? A-wrong. He disappeared again. Well, I decided that was it. I was done. This was probably a year and a half to two years ago (old again). I put my foot down, I was cutting that out of my life. Go me, right? Wrongy-wrong-wrong-wrong. 

About a week ago Cowboy sent me a friend request on the Facebook. I thought about it for a few days, and I decided to accept. Last night, he sent me a message asking how I was. We talked a little bit and I'll admit I was terse. He brought up the elephant** in the room and acknowledged that I probably wasn't ecstatic to hear from him. So, we talked it out. It seems alright now...we'll see what happens. You know I'll keep you posted!

**Umm speaking of elephants, I read the worst article yesterday. Get ready for your heart to break into a bazillion pieces. Seriously, I'm warning you now. An elephant was recently born at a zoo in China and the mother rejected him and tried to trample him. SHE TRIED TO STOMP HER BABY TO DEATH. Fuck you, mother elephant. Well, the zookeepers thought it was an accident. So they cleaned him up and sent him back to his mama. He was all happy and "Mommy I love you" and she was all like "GAH WTF demon spawn!" And that bitch tried to trample him again. SHE TRIED TO STOMP HIM TO DEATH AGAIN. So, obviously not a mistake. The zookeepers took him away for good. He then proceeded to cry for five hours. THE BABY ELEPHANT CRIED FOR FIVE HOURS AND NOW I'M GOING TO CRY FOREVER AND FUCK YOU MOTHER ELEPHANT. The end. 

There are so many things that suck about heartbreak. SOOO many. One of the worst, though, is when people try to make you feel better about it. I'm aware that sounds backwards. Last night I was talking to friend of Elliot's, who started to tell me a story about him (Elliot) and another ex. I didn't really want to hear about it, and told him why. I had been screwed over by someone who was supposedly so just and fair. My friend's reply? "Your insecurity puzzles me." Apparently I'm not allowed to have feelings or emotions. I'll be the first to admit that I have self-esteem issues. But really. I listen to your problems all the time, let me have feels too! Sometimes I think people only talk to me so they can complain or unload their issues on someone. 

Today I talked to a kind of coworker that I haven't talked to in a long time. He's technically in a different government area, but works in my building. He asked how things are going with "my soldier"...obviously they're not. It turned into a sarcastic "Oh, I didn't see that one coming." Yeah, douchebag, why do you think this is the first you're hearing about it? He had actually tried to set me up with someone while Soldier and I were still together. So then he tried to backtrack with the--it's his loss, you're better off, you deserve better, blahblahblah. Good for me, right? W-R-O-N-G. I'm pretty sure it's my loss. Most likely when people say that crap, they really mean it. But it means nothing. It sounds like a big pile of shit. I'm not trying to date you, so the opinion (though very thoughtful) is useless. And saying those things doesn't actually make someone feel better. It just sounds like the big load of crap that it is. 

Umm...hmm. I'm sorry. This turned into a bitter post. I'm sleepy, I've been up too late the past couple nights. And people are crappy and make me feel bad. But mostly because THE ELEPHANT MOTHER IS AWFUL AND TRIED TO KILL HIM AND MADE HIM CRY FOR FIVE HOURS. FIIIVE HOOOUUURS. I want to give him a hug. 

I keep thinking more and more about my trip to Paris, I can't wait! Maybe I will just stay there. Eat croissants every morning, become a connoisseur of red wine, learn to analyze fine art. And aren't Frenchmen supposed to be terribly romantic and wonderful lovers? A girl can dream.  

Mixing Business and Pleasure

Old flames they can warm you tonight, so keep it cool my baby...

The agency where I work is part of a statewide system, and every year they hold an annual conference. I wasn't supposed to go this year, but the opportunity arose and I snatched it up. I love to learn new things about my work...but it didn't hurt that the 3 day conference happened to be at a casino. My job doesn't at all require traveling, so it's nice when that's an option. 

***Alright, time for some back story. This one brings Jonathan into the story. (That's as in Jonathan Trager from the movie Serendipity. It's a fitting alias). 
I met Jonathan years ago, I think I was 18 or 19 (GAWD that makes me feel old). It was terrible timing; I wasn't exactly emotionally stable, and he was about to become a father from a one night stand. SPOILER ALERT: it didn't work out. (What's completely asinine is that is not the only time the situation has happened. Except the second time I was smart enough to not listen when I was told that it would be okay, and that the baby wouldn't change anything between us.) Anyway Jonathan had that stuff going on, and I had issues of my own, so we parted ways. A few years later we started talking a little bit again. We saw each other once, something happened to make him pull away, we parted ways again. He would send me messages every once in a while and I didn't answer much. He even sent a message in July, which I still have no recollection of...but it's surely there. Okay, I think that's it in a nutshell.***

Well, a few days before the conference, I was feeling particularly shitty. I wrote on my Facebook that I felt insignificant and useless...of course hoping to get some words of encouragement. Jonathan sent me a message that things would get better. I took about a day and a half, but I finally messaged back and told him I'd be up in his neck of the woods for the conference. He suggested we meet for a drink, I agreed. 

The conference started on a Sunday, and he expected to be working a little too late that night for us to hang out. I had expected to a responsible employee and go to bed at a decent time...hahaha. Silly me! About 6 drinks and 2 shots later, I headed back up to meet with Jonathan. It was nice; we caught up little and cuddled a little and just hung out. It felt very natural...not the kind of catching up where you have to spend tons of time talking about everything that's been going on...just kind of chatting, seeing what the other one was up to. I don't know how to describe it. 
Well, Monday was rough. I was hungover and incredibly tired, but rallied later on. Jonathan wasn't feeling fantastic either, and we went back and forth on hanging out. He told me that he'd realized the night before that he wants to see me more. Part of me wanted to leave it, part of me agreed with him. Well, I had some (okay, a lot) of shots with a coworker, played in the casino (not by myself) a little bit, and then rushed back up to meet him again. He brought a bottle of wine and it was gone by the time he left. (Which, if I'm divulging, I don't remember. I was sleeping, but apparently I made it difficult because I wouldn't let go of his arm. Even unconscious Laura is needy!) 
I do remember my alarm going off in the morning and a panicky feeling to turn it off because it'd wake Jonathan. Then I had this strange feeling--kind of a deflation, kind of when the wind gets knocked out of you, I'm not sure I've ever really felt that kind of sad disappointment--when I realized he wasn't there. It was odd. 

So, of course the next day was even worse. I probably would have stuck around to see Jonathan again, but a coworker was riding back with me. We Skyped the next day, and talked about seeing each other again. With his schedule, that won't be anytime soon, but we'll see what happens. 

I'm not sure how he keeps grabbing at my emotions this way. I'll go months or years without talking to him, and then it's like a switch flips and there it is again. 

There's a lot more that's happened since the start of the conference until now, but I'll save that till tomorrow. The long (and very drunken) nights messed with my body, and now I'm trying to make up for it. I loved the time I had at the conference...but I'm getting too old for this shit.