The Universe's Whipping Boy

It stings.

Well, things have turned badly again. 
A couple of weeks ago, I was out with Hermes. I was tired and not feeling great, so I'm sure I wasn't super nice. That's beside the point, though. After doing some shopping, we decided to go out to eat. As I was going to get out of the car, the car next to us was leaving, so I tried to stay out of the way and shut the door really close behind me. So close, in fact, that I shut my finger inside it. HOLY JESUS IT HURT. I really don't know how kids can handle that shit. PAIN. All up my arm, all the way to my friggin heart. Like, I was a little concerned because it hurt so bad even in my chest. Also, since Hermes drove, I had to get him to open the car back up. He was starting to walk inside by then, and apparently I was too calm and didn't convey the urgency of the situation well. I said I stayed there with my finger stuck for 30 seconds, Hermes says it was more like 15. Whatever, I'm pretty sure it was an eternity. 
Hermes kept apologizing like it was his fault. It was very nice of him, and I really appreciated his concern. But it really was my own damn fault. 
People kept telling me I need to start living in a bubble. Maybe I do. 

That same weekend, well, actually the day before, my Mum and I did some shopping of our own. I was doing a little makeup splurging, and it was all well and good, and then my debit card was declined. Um...I'm sorry...excuse me? It's so annoying because I knew without a doubt that I had plenty of money in my account. And it's so embarrassing because you're like "no, I'm sorry, I really do have money! It's lying!" and the cashier is just placating you like you're a hobo or something. But I got home and checked my account and, yes, I did in fact have plenty of dollars. I was really hoping it was a fluke. 

So after the finger disaster with Hermes (oh that sounds super dirty), I tried to use my debit card again at dinner. No such luck. At least that time, they didn't tell me it said insufficient funds...like you feel the need to prove to these strangers that you're not destitute. Weird. 
So that Monday, I went straightaway to the bank and told them my troubles. They couldn't see anything wrong, but ordered a new card just in case. So I took out a bunch of cash for the card-less days to follow, and life carried on. 
The new card came in a few days later and I jumped at activating it. I went about changing the information on all my saved accounts, and a couple still told me there was something wrong. Um...I'm sorry...excuse me? Ugh. Called customer service and it turned out that the card had been hacked. They told me that they'd tried to contact me (prove that, bitches, I got nothing) to ask about some international purchases that were suspicious. Nope. So they cancelled it and ordered off for another new card. Good thing I took a bunch of cash out. So, that's strike 2...or 3? of bad things happening. That was over the weekend so I knew I couldn't expect my card anything soon. Life carried on. 

That Tuesday, I was chatting with Hermes and he suggested we meet for coffee. I was exceptionally tired and my legs were feeling swollen and angry, but I thought it'd be nice to get out of the house. I agreed...I think something seemed a little off from the start, but I wasn't feeling overly gregarious anyway. Then he told me that he'd run into someone the previous weekend (try to keep up, it took me a while)...it was a friend of a girl that (I guess) he was interested in. He thought the girl was seeing someone but it turned out she really likes him. So he decided that he was going to pursue that instead. But, he had the audacity to ask me if I wanted to date him before he went into his whole thing. And then he tried to say that we didn't have that much in common and letting things go further would only make it worse and blah blah blah...all the bullshit people try to use to feel less like a douchebag. 
Alright, don't get me wrong, it's not like I was in love with him or anything. I was mostly mad about rejection (I still have an ego and it still stings) and the fact that he tried to feed me that crap. Don't fucking lie and say it's personalities or interests...there's someone else that you want to bone. That's it! 

I was pretty cold during that meeting. But, the absolute worst, most fucked up, completely asinine part: not only did he try the "I want to be friends" shit, he said we should go on double dates. FUCK YOU VERY MUCH. I told him that wasn't going to happen, and probably being friends wasn't either. I know I was stubborn, but it also felt kind of good to stand up for myself. Eventually I just rolled my eyes and left. Then he asked if I hated him and tried to give me some of the same bullshit...saying that I'm a good friend and he'd like to buy me dinner sometime. Ugh. There's a whole lot of NOPE there. 

So I've been wallowing in self-pity and loneliness. Sometimes I feel that I'm really not asking that much in wanting a Spot to lay my head (girls, you know the one...the indent between the shoulder and clavicle where your head fits perfectly and he can wrap his arm around you); other times I know I'm picky and pretentious. Then I get to thinking that it's really between the lesser of two evils--settling or being alone. 

(Sorry, that's a depressing sounding ending, but it also sounds a little melancholy and epic. But I also have to get up RIDICULOUSLY early--read: 4:45; wtf is that?--tomorrow. Also, I've now ruined my epicly melancholy ending. And apparently just made up the word "epicly."  And I said "fuck" a lot in this post. Oh well. Fuck.)

I'm Just Not That Into You

It's not you, it's me. But also you. 

I think we've quite established by now that I'm a strange creature. 
That becomes blaringly (wait, that's not a word? Wtf? LIES.) apparent when I'm expected to have actual interactions with people. Shit, that's not even something anyone should feel the need to say. I went to a birthday party last night that I was just miserable at. I had even gone earlier to help my friend get ready, and I was fine. But once people started arriving, I was the only one who didn't know the rest of the group. Then (because I'm me) I had a hard time joining in the conversations where they were all chatting and catching up and I was the outsider who didn't know any of their stories. It made me sad that I'm so stupidly socially awkward. 

My mom has told me multiple times that I stop being interested in a guy when he likes me and treats me well. I dunno, maybe she's right. 
I recently brought her attention to that quote from The Perks of Being a Wallflower: "We accept the love we think we deserve." She then asked me where the hell I got my idea of thinking I deserve crappy love. And, really, I haven't the foggiest clue. 

This part isn't so odd, I think, but once a small thing annoys me, I hate basically everything about that person...we'll call it The No Point. Usually I know pretty quickly whether or not I'm going to really like someone, too. Well, I've hit The No Point with Hermes already. It's not that there's anything he's done wrong or badly, it just isn't what I want. 

Now here's the big question: when I'm fairly certain that there isn't a future with a guy, why do I keep trying? It may have something to do with knowing that guys are nice and feeling like I owe it a real attempt before giving up. Like maybe I can will myself into liking them. But then there are times, when I'm just annoyed with them (through no real fault of their own), and I feel like I'm being unnecessarily sarcastic and mean. 
I don't think it's about just wanting to be with someone; I'm fine on my own. So that other thing is the best idea I've got. Still stupid. 

Maybe the social awkwardness and the weird feeling of obligation are somehow related. Don't ask me how, but maybe they are. Either way, they both leave me feeling like I'd like to curl up into myself and be alone and safe. Uh, sorry, that's really depressing sounding. Yeah, I'm a strange person. 

Hermes and I went to check out a new local brewery on Friday. To be honest, I had a really good time with him. (I think that also has something to do with the obligation; every once in a while I'll really enjoy the time I spend with them). Lindbergh was there. Thankfully, it took me a while to notice him, and his back was to me. I don't know if he saw us when we walked in or not. Fucker.

After Mass this morning (Happy Easter!), I was asked to sing at a wedding in July. I readily accepted; I love doing that stuff. Buuut....of course...it's a family that's really close to Soldier's family. I just can't get away from that fucker. Oops. Say a prayer for me that I just talked about church and said "fucker" in almost the same sentence. Well, this is awkward.

If You Swim In Dirty Water

You're bound to get mud on your hands


I really do have a habit of making things complicated for myself. 

Oh wait! Before I get into anything, I have a correction to make from the last post. As a joke, I called the surgeon Dr. Bff. The surgeon and I are not actual bffs. Bffffffff was kind enough to point out my mistake. Angrily. But I love him for it. 

Damn, it's been a while since I posted. Alright, so I complicate my own life. I don't exactly mean to, it just kind of happens. 
I guess things are getting a bit serious with Hermes. We've been going to dinner and watching movies quite a bit. I've been enjoying it. Not overly enjoying it; I think he's more excited about the whole thing than I am. Maybe I'll get there...but who knows. I keep doing this to myself. It just seems kind of tiring. It probably has nothing to do with him; more so my feelings on dating and life in general right now. 

I've been feeling kind of tired for a lot of reasons...the health issues not being the least. Everyone keeps telling me how positive I've been with it, which I guess is good, but I'm not sure how else one would act. I'm just trying to carry on with my life...I'm not sure how that's so noble or whatever. 
But also, there's just so much gross in the world. So much violence and hatred and selfishness. For some weird reason it really gets to me and stresses me out. So it just makes me tired to even try. And, of course, it came to a head yesterday. I had to teach, which is always hard for me anyway. And there were people who were rude and not paying attention and I have a hard time with that. Especially since these are my coworkers, and (as far as trainings go) it's actually a pretty interesting and fun class. I really don't understand being so disrespectful and mean. I was really upset, but things usually look better in the sunrise of the next day. So I had a new resolve to be positive and focus on the individuals who are interested and keep doing the best I can. 
I also get way too introspective when I have time to think and mull. That's probably a big part of this stuff. Also my stress builds on itself and I end up making it a lot worse. 

Anywhoooo...the other night Hermes and I were hanging out and he started talking about the first night we saw each other. Uh, I guess it wasn't really the first night, since we'd obviously seen each other the weekend of Harry's wedding. But the first time lately...the first second time...the second first time...something with a one and a two I guess. 
He said that he'd noticed me as soon as I walked in the door and pointed me out to Harry. Harry then reminded him who I was and encouraged him to get to know me. That actually kind of irritated me. Like part of me wanted to yell at him and ask if everyone was seriously just going to ignore how slightly crazy and dysfunctional the situation is. It's probably good that I restrained myself. He also mentioned Soldier for the first time. I really didn't like it. 

The legs are still being ridiculous. They're actually really bad today, which is probably because I was standing almost the whole time I taught yesterday. I should have known better. But, I did see the surgeon again today, so maybe it worked on my behalf that they weren't playing nice. It's back to testing...a more intensive MRI is in the works, whatever that means. 

I feel like this post has a different feel to it. I got halfway through The Perks of Being a Wallflower while I was waiting for the surgeon. (Wtf. When I first went to see him, everything happened so quickly, and I'd be in and out in about 45 minutes. Today I didn't even see him for an hour and a half after my appointment time. I think it made my legs angrier.) But, the book though. I absolutely love it. It's so simple, but so deep. And I get so emotionally attached to books that my thinking and talking (and writing, I guess) will kind of mirror that. It's a little alarming, actually. Kind of makes me question my sanity...can I really have that great of a handle on reality when my mental state can be (albeit temporarily) shaken by a story? Eh, whatever; lock me up in a padded room...at least that way I'd have a lot of time to read a lot of stories! I just really hope it has a happy ending. 

I'm supposed to have dinner with Hermes again tomorrow. He has a nice tendency to suggest the next date as we're ending one. (Does that make sense? Seems a little muddy. When we were together on Friday he suggested dinner for Tuesday. Ugh, muddier, cause today's Tuesday and all. He suggested dinner but then we ended up getting together again on Sunday, and we decided that Wednesday would be better. I guess that's not at all a good example. But he attempted to make the plans. Whatever. You're all smart cookies, you can figure it out.)

So, dinner again tomorrow, assuming my legs don't kill me in the meantime. (What if they actually did and that was the last thing I wrote about? God, what a morbid thought.) 
It would be nice to just get rid of them and start over. I think in my next life I'll be a starfish.