John had a rough day at work so he made the call..."That's it. We're taking the day off tomorrow and we're getting drunk." Now I'm not one to turn down an alcoholic beverage...or ten thousand of them...or the opportunity to jump Johnny's bones. I quickly put my stuff in order, made my appointments for the next day and ran off to get a pedicure...needed those feet in sexy painted fashion.

The drive was easy, parking less so...but it was all worth it when John opened door and handed me a glass of Jameson and an ice cold Miller Lite (because we're classy). We drank, talked and then left to set the town on fire meeting up with Roommate 1 and John's other friend Danger. John held my hand as I tottered along the city streets in monster heels...when will I learn? City streets+ M's shoes+alcohol+gravity= disaster.

We get to the bar and learn that yes, indeed, it was ON. And how. Whiskey was flowing like wine and we were drinking it like it was going out of style. Roommate 1 and Danger were parked at the corner of the bar, there were no seats and the oldest waitress (let's call her Crone) in the world kept smacking into us even though she had a good half a foot to get past us. She's lucky she didn't spill my whiskey because some old lady would've lost her teeth (I'm kidding, I swear).

We also learned that it was karaoke night and John took it upon himself to man up and do the singing, after debating between Susudio, Hip to be Square (someone obsessed with American Psycho much?) and Nothin' But a GThang...somehow I talked him into singing In Dreams, because his band used to cover it. He was heckled by Roommate 1 but he secured a place in his bed with me after that (as if there was a doubt?)...Danger and Roommate 1 ditched us with the tab...to be fair, Danger left us with forty dollars. John's ex-favorite bartender was very skimpy on the hookup, and we were still stuck with a $60 tab. It may be chump change for the rest of you, but that was John's "hard earned" tuition refund for quitting grad school...I was promised a Red Lobster dinner damnit!

Because gravity was working against me, as it often does...we had to take a taxi home. I'm assuming John did all the talking as I had lost the ability to form sentences. We got home and we got into a fight...I'm not sure what it was about, I think it was over Roommate 1 stiffing us with the tab but whatever it was it ended with a little drunken snuggling and all was well in the morning. We figure if we only fight when we're drunk and we don't know what it's about in the morning, we'll be a wonderful pair.

We woke up the next day and started it off right with a little romping. John said the sweetest thing ever to me when we were laying on the bed all sweaty. He said, "Sometimes I look at you and think that you're the most beautiful girl in the world." And I said, "Oh yeah? When?" THe sweetest boy ever said, "Like right now." Wow, give a boy an orgasm and he'll treat you like a princess. Actually, I think John told me that I was beautiful more in the past few days than anyone ever has in my entire life. The next time I see him, he gets a big smooch for that. We spent a large portion of our morning checking our Myspaces (ok, we're nerds), checking the blog to which we agreed that you guys don't like us unless we're fighting or having babies! We decided we're going to start making stuff up (only kidding, I would never do that). We laid on the floor listening to his old band's last recording, laughing, singing and kissing...I finally got him to burn it to CD for me, and then true to form, I left it behind this morning. What other hijinx did we get into? Hmm, well I made him try on his wetsuit for me and he looked so darn adorable I had to send him back to the bed for a little more action. Somehow time got away from us, we looked at the clock and couldn't believe that it was one o'clock! The next mission? Food.

See I have this little problem...sometimes I forget to eat. The last time I had eaten was 10:30am on Wednesday, so I think you can imagine how hungry I might be on Thursday at 1pm...I was starting to get tunnel vision. We stopped at a corner store and bought a Snickers bar to split and I devoured my half like it was going out of style...although, I looked over at John and his was gone instantaneously. The day was absolutely gorgeous, so we wandered the city looking for a nice restaurant where we could sit outside. Funny thing, we passed the restaurant where I created a scene a few weeks ago...and for some reason, neither of us wanted to eat there. Go figure...

We got a little food in us and descended into a food coma. The walk home helped a little bit as did the people watching/mocking. We passed this couple laying in the park making out and I was really tempted to one up them and just molest John right next to them because they were grossing me out, but John just firmly grabbed my arm and led me home (because I never know which direction I'm going). The food coma was really taking hold but Roommates 1 and 2 revived us with laughter. Let's see...we made fun of John's brow (when he furrows it, he kind of looks a little cavemanish...super hot caveman though), John claims that his gay porn name would be Buster Browneye and I jokingly put my foot down on John romping any more waitresses, strippers, women of color, ex-girlfriends and transients...so basically, that just leaves me. Oh and the boys and I came up with a possible reality show called "Date my Boyfriend" where John goes on dates with unsuspecting women and I freak out on them and blow up the whole situation...because that's what I do. And then after watching movies and drinking on the couch we decided to go out for a little. John and I made it an early night so that we could go home and curl up on the couch together.

If you ever want a man to be super sweet and say the absolute nicest things to you, get him a little drunk and watch Punch Drunk Love. I never saw the movie before, and I know a lot of people either love it or hate it...I loved it. It made me cry a few times. After the movie we dragged our bodies up the stairs and threw ourselves on the bed.

It truly was, the best day off ever and these past few times of getting to spend full days completely alone together have been so much fun. He keeps me entertained without trying and to steal a phrase from the Eagles (why? why?) "I got a peaceful easy feeling" and it appears I do the same for him. I just don't think I'll ever get bored of him. Leaving this morning at 5:45am I just wanted to quit my job, grab John and get on a plane and move to Tahiti or something. We need to win the lottery so that we can just lay around laughing together all day...oh and kissing, there has to be a lot of kissing.

So after my post of bitching about people calling just because they want some bit of inane information from me...John makes me laugh.

He calls me at 1:00 am and reads me a sentence from A Brave New World and then asks me a grammar question.

I think I was too out of it to get the joke...but I got it now.

My outside self:
I'm medium height...too short in my book, so I wear heels nearly all the time. The problem with that is that I'm not very good with the balance thing since I have very tiny feet. It's mostly ok, except that I like to fill myself with whiskey and beer and then my equilibrium is totally off. I have a smattering of scars on my knees to tell the tale. There's nothing special about my "shell" so to speak...I'm a little too "hippy" for my height, and I've got an ass on me...and good lord let's not discuss thighs, shall we?

I grew up with super blonde hair that slowly grew darker as I neared 18. I fought it, and fought it dyeing it blonde for years. After my dad died, I took the plunge...he always said that I would be "quite a dark haired lovely" and would try to coax me into doing it all the time...I took a deep breath and told the stylist, "Chestnut" and my platnum blonde hair underwent a significant transformation. Now at my ripe old age of 29, my hair is naturally long and dark.

I have bluish/greenish/greyish eyes...I think. It wasn't until my massive forray into the dating world did I hear about my eyes. They're probably my best feature but I didn't really know it until someone told me about it.

I probably have the smallest lips in North America...my bottom lip is tiny and full, while my upper lip is a tiny little cupid's bow, I kind of look like I'm in a constant pout...but I could just be pouting.

My inside self:
I'm full of contradictions. I'm self concious but full of confidence too...an odd mix and neither one is faked. I'm somewhat quiet and shy at times but most times I'm (too) loud and always laughing. I love to be the center of attention but I enjoy my moments of solitude too. I'm a problem solver, there's nothing more that I like more than to fix someone else's problems. My own problems? I like to push down inside of me and ignore until they're too big and unmanageable for me to handle. My job requires me to be a "pillar of the community," kind of like the moral pulse of the community...aside from not lying...I'm far from a moral epicenter--sometimes I feel like a sham. I enjoy being chaotic and out of control, but I secretly wish that someone would come in and help me micromanage my life, it gets tiring to be me.

I think too much about things. I bend and shape things in my mind, trying to understand all angles of something...it makes me a better decision maker sometimes, except for the fact that I will put blinders on, if the conclusion that I come to isn't what I want it to be. I'm self absorbed (obviously. I have a blog where my only subject is me. True, it's usually about me and other people...but I'm the nexus) but at the same time, I constantly worry about other people and what I can do for them. I want the people closest to me to have the best (and not necessarily things that can be bought).

I have an addictive personality...I drink too much (I'm not talking alcoholic here...), I smoke too much, I feel too much, I want too much...but I rarely ask for anything, hoping that someone will one day give me what I need without being asked. When I'm sad, I'm a better writer, and when I used to paint or draw the same thing applied. When I'm happy, I neglect all other things in my life to stay that way. I'm come across overdramatic, but it's usually exactly how I feel. I'm intuitive and clueless at the same time...I can read people fairly well, but they can also lie to my face and I'd never know it.

This post could probably go on forever...

People only call you when they want something from you...if that's a new concept for you, I'm sorry...the world isn't always the sweetest thing.

Last night, my roommate from college called me. The last time I've seen or talked to her was a month ago at our mutual friend's bridal shower. Before that? It was five years ago on her wedding day...ok, maybe we talked a little after that, but when she started hanging out at church all the time (not that there's anything wrong with that) and popping out babies, I saw the things we had in common slowly slipping away...boys, booze, music that has curse words in it (um yeah, I'm not kidding about that one), well I saw those things slipping away and I didn't bother to find common ground...I just let it go.

So what did we have in common last night? Macbeth. That's right, my brain was picked for about an hour concerning the symbolism of water and blood in Macbeth. I was required to try and remember from memory, (since my many copies of the novel were all at work) which acts and scenes would supply her neice with the most blood/water rich quotes. And so yeah, I did all that and when I was done (and by done, I mean my brain fell out...it's tough doing it all from memory and the person on the other line is transcribing everything that you say word for word), she just said, "Thanks" and then basically hung up the phone. There was very little small talk. Ok, whatever, I'm not too versed in what to talk about either when there are two kids screaming their heads off in the background but it definitely got me thinking to how things have changed so monumentally between us.

I got off the phone and laughed though...this was the girl that would pimp me out in chugging contests to earn more beer money. This little girl (she's about 5'1") would go up to random football players and insult them until they'd pull out their cash to defend their honors...heaven forbid they be called pussies for being too scared to chug against me. And that's what we would do on Friday afternoons...instead of getting real jobs, Jackie would procure me fresh opponents, I'd beat them and then go off and puke in the alley in preparation for the next one...and somehow this never got old--I guess partially because it helped us score cash and I even scored a boyfriend out of the deal at the time...apparently, he wasn't intimidated by the fact that I beat him...but then again, an open throat is always enticing, no? But then again, this was the same man that used to put half a tube of toothpaste in his mouth and then shake it all up and tell me that he was a "mad dog with rabies" as he was spitting toothpaste all over me and the bed. You should try this with the person you love...it's actually pretty funny...as long as they don't mind an eyeful of minty fresh flouride!

Friday night T and I went out to thitwbar for a few drinks. We got a pretty late start and we were surprised when I got a text message from John inviting us over to a party down the road. I was hoping that I would get to see him, but I hadn't been banking on it. We quickly made our way over to the party to find the cutest, drunkest boy ever...um, that was John if you didn't know...

T and I needed drinks and we were foolish enough to leave it to one very drunken Johnny. Within minutes I was drunk...probably because I had an enormous glass of gin with a splash of soda...and I was washing that down with a glass of champagne. Lots of things went down within the short period that I was awake. Roommate 2 was there because it was his brother's party, Roommate 2 was in full belligerant effect. Somehow he started a fight with someone and John ended up holding him down on the floor...I don't know what the heck I was trying to do, maybe soothe him with my calm voice? Well whatever I was trying to do, I was in the way because Roommate 2 tried to pull out of John's grasp and his arm flailed out and backhanded me. It was definitely an accident, but there was a moment there where John was seeing red and crushing Roommate 2's windpipe, somehow we all ended up covered in tomato pie too, (that John and I were peeling off each other the next day)... and the next thing I knew...John and I were cuddled in shivering heap, on a couch in an open air garage and it was morning. Who knew?

We packed Roommate 2 in the car...still drunk and wearing a shirt that had no buttons because he had hulk-a-sized it the night before and we dropped him off at his parents' house. John and I continued back to my house, curled up on the couch and watched a movie and slept. We missed the Strokes concert because we both conked out for several hours and when we woke up we would've had to rush to get to AC. Neither of us were feeling it, and as long as he wasn't taking any waitresses to my concert, I was fine with not going. We rallied enough "strength" to sit up, eat leftover pizza and watch Better Off Dead. Have you seen that movie lately? Seriously, I've always loved it, but after the other day I realize what a truly awesome movie it is. Plus it gave us a few more lines to add to our constant movie quote repetoire.

After a few beers at home, and being sick of the leftover pizza we decided to head over to thitwbar...hoping to find some clams. Chelle met us out, trooper that she is, but I think she had a difficult time following our conversations (or actually, maybe we weren't even holding them?) as Johnny and I were well on our way to Drunksville...A nice little highlight of the evening was when I "won" baseball tickets for a Phillies game. I thought I really won them but John informed me the next day that I was basically just given them, under the guise of a fair raffle. Now that makes running around screaming about how lucky I am a tad bit embarassing...oh well. Not too long after winning the tickets, John packed me in the car and took me home where our drunk asses tried to watch internet porn.

Picture this: John and Melina, laying on the floor in front of M's back door trying to pirate a bit of wireless signal from the neighbors in the hopes of watching porn on a high speed connection (um because, I'm one of three people on Earth who still has dial up...and dial up is no way to watch porn my friends)...we're very classy. Let's just say, that plan didn't work out all that well...but in a way it did, because my pants got removed from me and my two week sex drought was over (hooray!!), and in pretty damn superb way right there on the floor. Who says you have to watch porn, when you can just as easily make your own?

We woke up the next morning and I was reminded how much I like kissing and touching that man, he surely does get me going. He left me a very satisfied girl and then sent me off to the showers so that we could get ready for the baseball game. Amazingly, we both kicked it up a notch and we were on the road in no time flat...stopping only to pick up the laptop that was laying by the door and clothes that were strewn around the room.

Our tickets were awesome! We were right off third base, six rows back. At the game I truly appreciated how nice it was to spend the weekend with John. Usually when we hang out, we're never alone, we're usually with the whole "posse"....but this weekend we spent most of the weekend alone. We stayed the whole game, and then decided to head back to the 'burbs and get some food that we definitely needed. Unlike John and the dog, who had the final pieces of the leftover pizza, I was starved to death. I hate when I forget to eat and John's billion dollar ballpark hotdog was a little too loaded for my likings :)

We came back to my house and then headed over to the FQB for some of the best food on Earth...finally, there...after a whole weekend of dreaming about clams, we finally got our hands on some. Unfortunately for John, those clams kept him awake all night. We also stayed out a little too late last night, when I finished my beer another one appeared in its place and I was annoyed. We were planning on coming home and cuddling up on the couch and watching a movie and then he was going to make the trek back to the city late night so he wouldn't have to make the early commute. But, we came home and just went straight to bed. Well, I tried to take advantage of John one last time, but neither of us really had the energy to do any justice to what we were trying to accomplish. Poor kid, I was trying to jump him all weekend, he had to be exhausted. I fell asleep right away but poor Johnny was stuck wide awake for hours. I woke up at 5am and talked with him, he drifted in and out of sleep but he just seemed so miserable and tired, I felt for him...especially since I made him stay with me one more night. Poor guy, I give him the sad eyes any time he suggests leaving...I'm mostly kidding, but I do hate to see him leave me, but even I know the suckiness of the bleary eyed morning commute. At 5:30, he dragged his weary body out of my bed and headed home hoping to avoid the traffic into the city. As soon as he left it started pouring and I continued to feel worse and worse about him having to drive home...it's times like these I wish we lived closer to each other.

And that was our weekend in a nutshell...I got to spend my weekend with one of my favorite people and the only time I didn't have a smile on my face was when I was sleeping.

So here I am...out of work on a half day...all ready to head up to the tattoo shop, but I don't think I should be driving yet. Here's why...

I was reluctant to go out last night but around 7, I changed my mind and thought, "I need to get out since I haven't been out all week." So out I went. And oh boy did I, I vaguely remember 8 or 10 shots of Jameson being poured down my throat at one point. Who was doing the pouring? Me. And what praytell had I eaten all day? Let me give you the long menu...a salad from Wawa and steamed clams...yep, that's a recipe for drunkeness. Add about 8 pitchers of beer and you have one drunken girl.

Chelle and Rob picked me up and we went to thitwbar. Alone, that bar is just fine...nothing special, but fine nonetheless...but last night? The second night of Thursday karaoke! Wow. That's all I can say, wow. You can never underestimate townie performers. Seriously, just think of those first few weeks of American Idol and there you have it. It was pretty much the most hilarious thing when this one girl (who sang just under 54 songs last night), sang Kelis's "Milkshake"...um yeah, we were all making fun of it so T, a couple of other girls and I decided to writhe, dance, grab our boobs, run our hands through our hair and basically anything else sexual you can think of at our barstools to the music...we actually got way more cheers than the singing...I believe in France we'd be considered classy. Or not. But anyways, "My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard...damn right it's better than yours..." It just had to be said. PS. Who calls blowjobs milkshakes, anyways?

A little ego booster (and I can use all that I can get) was when Steve the bartender said, "M, you look beautiful tonight. I like your hair all curly." To which I could only reply, "Well I'm glad you like it curly because my hairdryer broke and I don't know when I'm going to get my ass down to Target." He replies, "No seriously, it's pretty sexy, looks like you just got laid or something...I mean...I have a wife and kids and all, but you look hot. That John, man...he's a lucky guy." (i've yet to inform Steve, it just never seems like the right time to interject, "he broke up with me!"he always walks away too soon and then I feel like I'm chasing after him to tell him) He walks away muttering "sex hair..." or something to that effect. I just turned to T and said, "Who knew? I feel like I look like a slob and lord knows I'm not getting laid." She replied, "Well, you look darn cute for not doing anything." And me being the attention seeking whore I am, I said, "Wait, did Steve say I looked beautiful? Aww, I haven't been called beautiful since my dad...that totally rocks!" I'm guessing letting my hair air dry is the way to go, screw that hair dryer. Seriously, that nice man used the word beautiful and that melts my heart. So much better than the trademarked, "cute".

Another random fact. It's always weird when an 18 year old hangs out with an aquaintance of yours and then comes and tells you about it. I'm all creeped out. Children shouldn't be running in my circle of friends...ever. Never ever. Especially since we're all a bunch of messes.

I had a dream about kissing last night. I feel like I haven't been kissed in ages. The whole dream was about me getting kissed, I felt like I was in some foreign film...people were paying to kiss me. Call me Belle de Jour, just minus the "whip me in the forest" fantasy she had.

Hopefully, I'll be inspired to write a real post later...but it's just not happening right now, these are the things I'm thinking about, without telling you what I'm really thinking about... go on call me a tease, I like that. I like it ...a lot.

I took a half day at work tomorrow...to see a man with needles and ink about some magnolias. If I want a little reality, I guess I'll make it myself.

The fantasy world that John and I fashioned and that you voiced your opinions on, will probably never come to pass. We just lived 24 hours of playing house, and you just happened to catch a glimpse of it. You're right--I would move Heaven, Earth and even run through Hell for John, but to hang onto him (as was suggested)? That's not me, and it wasn't what this was about. And if you knew anything about John, you'd know that he's not one to be held onto either--he'd sooner slip through your fingers like mercury.

Seriously folks, why worry about an imaginary baby that would've been insanely loved had that moment ever come to pass? I get some of it...you don't know me...you know a side of me that I show you. You don't know John...you only know what I've written about him. What you don't know is that there was something stirred up in all of this drama. What that something is? I haven't words to say. Is it good enough to become a family over? That's what we were talking out...and of course, it was based on the reality of what we want and the daydream of what we could have. We were chasing the dream.

It was a thought...I'm not quite sure fleeting, because it's certainly seeded and took root in my heart. A thought that we were trying to examine from all angles to see if it could be possible. I'm sure some of it has to do with the fact that my mom is dying and that she would like a grandchild before she dies. As much as I try to push that thought to the back of my head and heart, it always pops up in quiet moments alone. And yes I know that's no reason to have a baby...it doesn't make someone live. I'm not trying to have a baby this moment. I'm not even trying to have a baby with just anyone. If I had a baby...I would've liked it to be with him. If it wasn't him, I would be the regular old me. The non-baby thinking-about me.

But I'm sure we'll lay this little fantasy to rest soon, and Maggie will just be something that we think about when we're staring at separate ceilings. Sure, I'll probably get the magnolia tattoos...and sure, someday down the line, I may look at them wryly. And maybe one day there will be a Magnolia Grace in one of our futures...or in both of our futures-- possibly together. Once again, a dream deferred. Dreams aren't meant to be picked apart...maybe if we were acting rashly, but we weren't.

But who knows? My period stopped already...so maybe it's test time again? I wouldn't think it...but some of you in the know mentioned it. Now that would just be irony at work...

I said might.

After Baby Scare 2006...that turned in No Baby Disappointment 2006, John and I really started talking in very guarded and coded ways. "Is it crazy?..." and then one of us would trail off. I would say, "I think you should try and knock me up next month..." and then end it with a haha. It took a little alcohol on both of our parts to say, "You know what? I think I want this...and I think I want it with you" but it was said.

Last night he sent me a few text messages while he was out:

"Do you think it's crazy to wanna try again?"

"You know how I feel about it John."

"Last night I laid on the couch dreaming of having my baby girl lying on my belly."

" Aww...that's probably the sweetest thing I've ever heard. I think I want to get magnolia blossoms tattooed on my shoulder and back...regardless...I think they would be a nice addition to the lilies."

"Funny thing? I told Roommate 2 that I was going to get them across my chest about 45 mins ago."

"So does Roommate 2 think we're crazy?"

" The funny thing is...I can't find a single person who thinks it's a bad idea and I know I couldn't pick a better mom."

" And I think that you'd make a wonderful dad. "

These are the somewhat definites (hello oxymoron, my old friend...)...we think we want to start a family together, we want stability for us and our potential baby, we want to be able to say, "We raised that extrodinary individual." I know that I'm looking forward to the day that my heart swells so much that it hurts just by looking at my girl (or boy...but damn, I want a girl), and I think that John feels the same way. I want to witness first breaths, first laughs, first words, first kisses, first signs of rebellion. I want someone to call me Mama and tug on the bottom of my shirt. I want to see someone to be sitting comfortably perched on top of John's shoulders, legs wrapped around his head and firmly secured with his hands.

I said this before: we have the intelligence, we have the careers (mine wonderfully flexible for motherhood), we have the house (temporary domicile at this point), and we have great hearts. we have to think about the commitment.

These are the indefinites...reality is daunting. Will he relocate for the "forever and a day" commute? Will I sell my house and meet him halfway? Will we halfway into this project say, "No, I'm sorry...I don't want to be an adult anymore!" and both turn tail? Although, I thought about it and I'd be ok on my own if that should happen... Will this insane idea work? Could it? Why do we both think we want this so much (seemingly out of the blue, triggered by an accident that turned out not to even be an accident)...but with so much hesitation? And if we didn't hesistate, if we just went with it, would it be better? To just go with the initial gut feelings and not the ones that say, "Are you fucking crazy?" We both freak out and waver between "Wow, am I really having this conversation?" and "This would be cool...I think." I see it in our emails back and forth (sorry, totally kept you from working today), although I think John thinks I'm totally calm about the whole thing...I'm not, I'm just keeping an open mind about it all.

There are so many questions left unanswered at this point...but the point is, we're trying to cover the tough questions and be honest about them. If it happens, it happens...but right now I'm just happy to hang out with him and see where we want to go with it. If nothing else, we always have a good time together and I could use a few laughs and good times. We're supposed to hang out tonight...and I think I want to hold off talking about any of this until I have a few drinks under my belt, I just want to enjoy each other's company. Hey, I may be growing up but I still have my moments.

We would've made good parents. I know this with all my heart.

John is so intelligent, witty, handsome, charming, creative, so good with narrowing down the big picture into the little details. He's a man who, when focused, could make anything happen...and I know that for his little girl he would've moved heaven and earth.

I'm intelligent, pretty, funny, giving, kind and pretty selfless. I'd lay down anything I had to make sure that my baby had everything in the world it would need and then some.

Our baby would've had either curly or wavy chocolate brown hair. She'd be graced with either my bright bluish green eyes or a lovely deep hazel/brown color and she would've been complimented on them throughout her entire life. She would've had dimples, but not like the dog-made one that her momma has, but like the one that graces her other cheek. Would she have my tiny little slope of a nose or John's equally cute nose? Mom and baby girl would wear matching pigtails just to be goofy. We'd make her laugh all the time, so that her nose would squinch up and her little eyes would be creased shut.

Her name was going to be some combo of Josephine Grace, or Lily Grace or even Magnolia Grace (Maggie)...but probably Josephine Grace, named after both of John's grandmothers (believe me...it was no struggle there not to choose my grandmother's names--Henrietta or Isabel). If it was a boy, John told me I was allowed to give him my dad's name of Tommy...but neither of us wanted a boy.

But the baby's not to be. Gracie won't be ours. We nurtured her for four days...daydreaming, worrying and delving into a ton of introspection. Maybe that's a good thing, maybe John's out there breathing a sigh of relief...we dodged a bullet so to speak...but frankly, I'm more than a little disappointed and I will bet you money, there's a part of him that's going to be a little sad. I got up early this morning and ran to the grocery store and picked up several tests in the aisle. I chose the one that claimed to be the most accurate within the shortest time of a missed period. My heart pounding in my chest and my hands shaking I ran into the bathroom and did the deed. I waited. I kept peeking to see if the results would come up earlier if I stared at it. I decided to take the dog for a walk. I came back and the test was positive...so I took the second one...it was negative. Twenty minutes after that, I got my period. I guess all the extra missed time was psycho-sematic.

The results made me cry. Not out of relief, in these four days I went from one end of the spectrum to the other. I went from adamant that I shouldn't have a child, to coming to want our Grace and now she's just a dream deferred. Maybe I'm a little crazy (which I'm not going to discount) but I think if anyone could've made this work, it would've been us. We're at good ages (27 and 29), we have good jobs, I have a house, we both had supportive parents (seemingly waiting in the wings excited to be grandmas), I guess we wouldn't have the best relationship situation since we wouldn't be together, but no matter our situation we would've loved that baby as much as humanly possible. I'm disappointed, our baby would've been beautiful.

This is a really weird post to write...but since I've been late for almost two weeks now it seems like the only thing I can do is go to the grocery store and get a pregnancy test. But I haven't moved from the couch...because I don't know how I feel about it.

Could I be somebody's mom?
Should I be somebody's mom?
Can I do this alone?

...and of course I waver between absolute shaking terror, and calmness...

When I'm alone I think about these things. I've said before that I think that I would like to have a baby someday, but this situation wasn't part of the plan...but how could I even plan a pregnancy with my life? I take birth control for 14 and a half years, I've never had a slip up...is now supposed to be the time? John and I talked about it and he doesn't want a kid--in fact we discussed options that might really anger some of you. We even made a pinky swear on it...but now? I dunno. He had momentary thoughts that this might not be a bad thing, but I'm sure those moments will pass for him...but for me? I'm wondering, like seriously thinking that this might not be a bad thing. It will grow my ass up, might help me clean up my act, it might make me transform myself into the better person I would need to be.

I told my mom today, and she said, "Well I've always said that you would make a wonderful mother, you're very loving, and very kind." And then she made me laugh because she asked, "Would John marry you?" and I gave her the sidelong glare and a laugh, "C'mon now, Mom this is not 1952." And she said, "What? He can sleep with you but he can't do that?" And all of that made laugh and I said, "Well we haven't slept together in a week Mom, we're done...for real, done. And good lord, could you imagine? We'd get a divorce every week! If I do this Ma, I'm doing it alone."

So tomorrow I might go get that test from the grocery store. Sickest thought ever? I think there's a part of me that will be very disappointed if it's negative. I never once thought I'd say that. Ever.

Oh and dating will be ever more challenging with a little one on my hip...but if it turns out I am preggo, I'm going to love the shit out of that kid. That's for damn sure.

So I get a message on myspace from the girl that John's hanging out with based upon my very bad behavior on Thursday night. And I agree that I was an asshole that night, but I was drunk and didn't realize that I was trying to grope on John in front of her...whoops! Hey, I'll be the first to admit that I'm the biggest jerk ever for that, but seriously after reading this email I almost threw my laptop out the window and I had to fight the urge to get in the car and find her and slit her throat. (just to clarify, I didn't slit anyone's throat, so I obviously got over my homicidal urge).

Hey Melina-
Listen I'm really sorry if I'm upsetting you in anyway But I really dig on John_______ and he does me and all this drama is not cool for anybody -I'm not a bitch and don't want anybody to be hurt it is just this is the way it is if u need to talk to me please do otherwise please knock of this drama thanks girl I appreciate it
-jenny

Note the total disregard for punctuation, random misspellings and a smattering of capitalizations, the email itself made me want to rip my eyeballs out of my head and to send her a grammar book. Ok, I'm just being a bitch...it was a well deserved email but that doesn't stop me from absolutely hating it. Oh and it really sucks because she beat me to the punch, I was planning on sending her an email apologizing for my behavior. But all I could muster after getting this was, "Sorry, I was really drunk...no drama was intended." And that's the truth, I didn't go down there to "win" him back, I just went to hang out. And I fucked up.

Yesterday T and I got up and tried to be productive...by productive I mean we went to the mall bought a cd, a card for her stepdad and a gift card. We came home, had a few drinks on the deck listened to our new cd and then ran over to the local steakhouse to meet her fam for a little birthday dinner.

The dinner was so much fun and basically the most hilarious outing ever...picture this, T's mom leans over to her stepdad and says, "Aww they're such a cute little team!" about t and myself. We basically just filled them in on both of our love lives (the term crash and burn applies for both of us). And T's mom said, "I don't see how the boys you like, don't just love you guys...you're both just so darn adorable! Those men should be begging at your doors." She's a sweetheart, but all we could do was shrug.

After dinner we came back to my house and hung out on the deck singing songs, drinking beers and just living in our own little world. Everyone else was out of town or busy so it was just down to us. We wanted to go out and do something exciting however, we were a little too toasted to be driving anywhere so...we did the next best thing...we put on some fresh clothes, did our hair and walked our way up to thitwbar.

The walk there was a bit of an ordeal and fairly the funniest thing ever...as we were walking out of the development a group of boys were sitting on their front step and catcalling us. The best part? When one of the kids says, "The guy whistling at you is 11!" To which I yelled back, "Awesome!" And we continued on our way. Apparently it was a night for teenagers to be catcalling older women, we got stalked and howled at as we continued across the baseball field and the best one?? Some guy whistled at us as he was exiting the church that is directly across from the bar. I took this as a sign that we must've been doing something right with our apparel...and that people exiting churches are horny bastards.

We sat down and got straight to business...pitchers were the name of the game, as were shots of Jameson. There was a very drunk, and very cute man (he actually seemed more of a boy really) sitting next to T. He turned to us and started talking, swearing that he knew us and then he just continued to make us laugh with his drunken tomfoolery. He turned out to be a "beautiful mess"...very cute but awaiting a very long jail term...but that didn't stop us from flirting with him. He ran away when these two guys we know showed up...two very, very large police men. Obviously, our little man has had some run ins with at least one of them (as they weren't dressed for work or anything, and they were drunk as skunks) and he scampered out of the door as the others approached.

Well the bigger cop apparently had his eye on little ol' me last night. He would not leave me alone, his 300 lbs attempted to sit on my lap several times, share my barstool and what have you. He obviously practiced the kindgergarten flirting techniques of "pull her hair and make her cry if you like her" because he wouldn't stop harassing me, to the point where he stole my barstool as well as my cell phone where he was trying to delete any male's number in my phone ( I had to punch him to get my phone back...yes it was a very physical night). Somehow, I had beer muscles because I just dumped the redwood of a man right onto the floor and then sat daintily down back in my rightful seat. T and I agree that we were lucky that the man was totally focused on bedding me down because it could've gotten really ugly--I've seen him pissed off and all raging bull-like.

After declining the Redwood's "sexy" offer of "Fucking all night and me cumming all night to the point that I would never want him to leave...and my thighs could be wrapped around his face all fucking night" (this is a true quote...and there was sooo much more. I was, in great detail, verbally fucked just sitting right there in my barstool) T and I began our trek home, not risking the ride home from the boys. It's only about a block and a half but we managed to swerve and sway I think an extra four blocks or so. The best part? We both kept falling, and as we tried to pick each other up, we'd fall down and then roll on the sidewalk laughing. It was hilarious, we're such idiots...

We came home, played on the internet a little bit, chatted about the evening where T reemphasized that I was soo lucky I didn't get my ass kicked for dropping that guy on the floor...I'm not kidding, the boy went down like a brick, and congratulated me on my wise decision not to sleep with him (he seems slightly psychotic) and then we both called it a night.

For a month now John's been painted as the "bad guy"(even though he did nothing more than breakup with me...as he said this morning, "Why aren't I allowed to decide to not see someone?" and he's dead on right. He is allowed...and I'm pretty sorry for being a baby and a drama queen about things). And for that I apologize with all my heart...my mantra today has been, "I'm so fucking sorry." Well,last night it was my turn to fuck shit up--and man did I do a fucking bang up job of it.

I emailed him yesterday asking him what his plans were for the evening since I knew we both had off today and I wanted to go down to the city. He said I could come down and go out with him and Roommate 1. He sends me a caveat message though saying, "The girl will probably stay over" and I was fine with that. I was going to have to meet her sooner or later and I didn't want him feeling like he was sneaking around hanging out with me. I was going to be a sport, get the friends thing down...best intentions man, best intentions. Now most of the story I can't tell because I blacked out around 9 and I was passed out in John's bed by 10. Yeah, it's that kind of a story.

I get there and they're waiting for me outside and he tells me that we're going to get free drinks...so I agree, and he tries to tell me that the reason why we're going to get free drinks is...and I interrupted him and said, "Yeah, I get it...we're going to where Jenn works" and I took a big breath and felt like I could man up for this. Roommate 1 told me today that he only came along to watch the awkwardness and the drama unfold...(real fucking nice huh? ha ha).

We get to the place and it's super nice--fancy and it smelled of rich mohagony...ok, maybe it didn't, but it was really nice. Jenn reserved us a table outside so we could drink and people watch. Somehow, we managed to put away eight bottles of wine worth $600 between the three of us in two hours or less...and in that time, I managed to piss John off and piss myself. Yes, that's right folks you heard it here...I was so drunk that I actually pissed myself at my seat! (hanging head in shame and mortification) Whatever I was doing, John was sick of it so he took me over to the park across the street and gave me a talking to. I don't know what was said but I remember crying a lot...seems like a common theme, no? Fucking baby. I'm owning this now, John has nothing to do with the way I've been acting.

So anyways, he takes me home only after I fell in the street and puts me to bed, I guess...maybe I just seized it without asking...that would seem to be my M.O. I woke up this morning and started to go downstairs to talk to him and apologize but I didn't see that Jenn was still on the couch. I basically muttered, "I'm so fucking sorry" and before I saw Jenn I said, "Can you come up here and talk with me" but he told me to get a glass of water and go back to bed or something. When I woke up again, he was gone. He was walking Jenn to work...after a night of no sleep between them. Roommates 1 and 2 invited me to brunch so I went, as I was still in no shape to be driving anywhere...especially the trek back from the city.

At breakfast the boys had a little heart to heart with me about John. They told me that they worry about him and how he's revelling in "breaking up with his life", hanging out with someone who's crazy (their words, not mine), and making choices that seem counterproductive to a successful life. For instance, Roommate 2 said, "You were good for him, so he threw you away. He's always making outrageous decisions" (something to that effect, I know I misquoted that a little). And this I found funny because the boys (John and Roommate 1) are constantly taking care of Roommate 2 when he's out getting as bombed as I was last night, and pulling knives on people...so, he's pretty much an outrageous decision maker himself. To an extent I agreed with them but I also interjected the fact that he has to do what makes him happy. And that's what he was trying to get at this afternoon when he and I were talking...not being with me wasn't a dick move on his part...he didn't want to be serious and it definitely took a turn toward Seriousville. In hindsight, had I known that it wasn't meant to be a serious thing, I would've taken a whole different approach to the deal...but eh, what can you do right?

And now for the best part. I was sitting in his room talking to him and I tell him, "I'm late." So yeah folks I'm about a week late...and that was a fucking bang up conversation that we had there too, but I'll leave that one to your imaginations. I left a little after Jenn came back this afternoon and I'm sure she was wondering what the hell I was still doing there...I mean I definitely overstayed my welcome, but for reasons that I can't disclose, I was unable to leave and John was really, really cool and understanding about it. I know that he just wanted me out of his house and his hair, but he was absolutely awesome about it.

So the crux of the story is, as I was muttering "Sorry" all day and looking like I killed the Easter Bunny --John told me that because of how I acted last night, I did some damage to our potential friendship and that we should probably just stick to email for a while. Which sucks because I really felt like I turned the feelings off (seriously, I'm not even playing around. last night when I got there, I didn't get those feelings of "Aww, I just love that kid." It was more like, "There's John and Roommate 1" and that he and I were on the (long) road towards a really great friendship...it kind of seems like those plans are on hold and I'm sure that Jenn really hates me for being such an asshole at her place of employment. Or just hates me because I'm an asshole in general. In fact, she told John that it would probably a good idea if he didn't go there for a few months. We're definitely a classy bunch, I'll give us that. So, since we're back to just email I'm guessing that we won't be going to the Strokes show together next weekend, which sucks because I was looking forward to going with him..and I'm sure that Jenn wouldn't be too happy about it anyways, what without a chaperone. Even though I swear I wouldn't even think of touching him, I may have wanted him for myself but I wouldn't do that to him (or her) for that matter.
So I blew the shit out of the water last night. I'm not happy with myself, I envisioned us being able to hang out all the time...I mean, I haven't gone a week in four months without seeing him at least one night and now I'm kind of exiled. But I understand it all now, and I see how difficult I've been making things and I'm really sorry. Really, really sorry.

So John, rather than emailing it to you...this is my apology, for everything--how I've been behaving, how I behaved last night and how I've been beating you up emotionally. I've been so unfair to you. I never expected things to ever be this way and I never expected to be this person that I'm being.

So I put out the Bat signal to my friends on myspace since Craigslist is fairly awful right about now ("my hobbies include salsa dancing and I'm a Ninja level 5J" or "Do you want to go on a four day road trip with me and navigate?" who writes this shit??

Here's the skinny:

Thursday, April 13, 2006

Mission Possible? Current mood: dangerous I'm single and I'm bored...and the Cornfield is a one horse kind of town, and you shouldn't ride the only horse in town. If you know anyone decent, throw them my way. I'm not desperate, just bored out of my mind, and I can't seem to meet anyone and why should I be the only one not out there having fun? Because I know there's fun to be had! Mission Get Melina a Man has begun...now go! My hobbies include drinking, smoking and fucking, but perhaps you shouldn't tell them that...tell them, "I'm a nice girl" or elbow them and say, "She's a good time." Whatevs.

Alright this post has to be done in list format because my brain is doing a deadly dance behind my skull...all because of the night I had last night. First of all, I think we broke ourselves. T said, "we hurt ourselves real bad and that calls for Chinese"...but then she collapsed in a heap on the deck and I haven't seen her since.

So here are the highlights of the night. I attempted to go out with a vengence. I dressed up, showed off the rack (something I don't often do), put my hair in pigtails and spent some serious time on the makeup. Someone was going to get lucky and they didn't even know it!! But as it turns out, all the takers...I was so not interested. Instead I proceeded to get as drunk as humanly possible and still live...all the while, taking notes about the evening so that I'd have information to write to you, my dear sweet friends. Half the fun of this post is trying to decipher what the fuck I wrote down. Here goes:

1. It has come to my attention that I hate Linkin Park with all my being...someone decided to play a little marathon of the angsty band...it was great, my ears started to bleed and I turned into the Hulk...because I hate them, that much.

2. We saw the Emaciated Version of T (this girl who's really really skinny and dated Tony). I think she looks a little like a cute version of ET. E says that she looks like Mr. Burns from the episode of the Simpsons where everyone thought there was an alien in the woods but it was just Mr. Burns...glowing and saying, "I bring you love."

3. There was an unfortunate sighting for E...the woman he took home once that he named the Screamer. Screamer would be a good term, but E thought he might've dislodged her vagina or something by the way that this woman was carrying on. Oh and by the way, the Screamer had the longest hair and the most busted face ever.

4. Richard was at the bar. Richard is a local. Richard has the longest hair ever...like Crystal Gale long. He pulls it back into a ponytail and wears a leather jacket at all times (except when he's wearing a Freddie Krueger like sweater), when he started talking to the Screamer, there was way too much hair in the conversation and I couldn't help but picturing them in bed...and then I almost threw up. Or as E just put it they were, "twisting around pationately like cousin it and a carpet making out" or like "two of Chewbacca's runt cousins kissing"

5. One of the best lines that came out of E's mouth was, "I'd knock her off like a liquor store..." For some reason, I really like that line.

6. T stated that we need to "rock the school girl look every day this year" because we're going to be 30 next year...as if we're going to really stop next year.

7. Steve the bartender who flagged me on Saturday said to me, "It was nice to see you the drunk one and not John...do you guys plan out who's going to be the zombie for the night? It's pretty cute of you two, only one of you gets zombiefied at a time..." I didn't bother to clear anything up.

8. I went to the bathroom and I ran into the Paulrus's (fat man named Paul who's super Catholic, super annoying and highly judgemental--oh and he looks like a walrus) brother's girlfriend. I've met this girl once I think...and I think it was on Thanksgiving Eve (the same night I met John). So I was surprised when I ran into this girl in the bathroom and she says, "John, right?" and I said, "No, my name's Melina" knowing exactly where this convo was going. She giggles and says, "No silly, you're with John _____!" and I said, "No silly, I'm not. He dumped me like a bad habit." And then laughing at my gayass line, I went into the stall and peed. I still think she thinks I was kidding because she was still laughing and saying, "you're so funny" when I was washing my hands.

9. T and I spoke about how we have a new bunch of phrases due to our time/ exposure to all things good about John...and how we gave him a few lines too. For example, we gave him, "You win!" and "for fuck's sake"...he gave us, "I hate this conversation" (actually that's from his roommate), all the Anchorman and Old School quotes that you could possibly handle...and...I'm drawing a blank now, we came up with a lot of things last night but...um...I can't read my writing. well anyways, he gave us our new tone that talk in...and I am constantly doing his little Jaguar impression without realizing what I'm doing...it makes me laugh.

10. I visited my mom at work yesterday, and she handed me a check. She said, "Here's a little cash...I want you to go out and get drunk. I hate seeing you so sad. You and the girls and E go out on me." When I told T this, she said..."Who is this woman and where did your mom go?"

11. Karaoke begins at thitwbar tonight. Our favorite bartender Chris kept saying to us, "Save that for tomorrow!" because we always sing at the top of our lungs at the bar ( you know Skid Row's 18 and Life and The Ace of Spades are really meant to be sung/screamed). We both shook our heads and said, "Nah, we won't be singing karaoke." I don't think he believed us. Seriously, I've done karaoke twice. Once, I was laying on the stage singing on my back and the second time, I was graduating from college...believe me, I have many good qualities, my singing voice is not one of them.

12. When E brought us home last night, T and I cracked into another beer each(because you know we needed it) and we had a little heart to heart over this blog. I read her a post (I have no idea which one) and we just curled into a little ball and cried. Oh did the beer tears flow. It's funny now only because, we basically had a heart to heart about every man that's ever graced our lives...Today, we're laying on the couches dying and we're still laughing at our stupidity.

13. So I was talking to T, E and Chelle about my delving into the "men seeking women" section of Craigslist and how everyone lists how cultured they are, well educated, how much they love the theatre...My hobbies? Smoking, drinking and fucking...E said, "Well would you answer an ad that said that?" And of course I said no...so I've decided I'm going to aim high and look for a garbage man. They seem simple, they aren't trying to find themselves, and their inner dialogue seems like something I can follow. Oh T just informed me that my future boyfriend should be called a Garbologist rather than a garbage man...I'll go with that.

There's plenty more but I'm going to take a small break and rest. So I didn't go all out and fuck for freedom, but I still had a good time.

The trouble with a vibrator is that it doesn't look down at me with a half grin that seems to read, "Wow, we're making each other feel this way?" in a way that melts my heart. It doesn't grab my breast, or give my nipple a little tweak. It refuses to speed up or slow down according to the noises I make. Why isn't it rolling around with me on the sheets and ripping them aside, throwing pillows when they get in the way? Asking me to ride it? It doesn't kiss my neck, my throat or wrap my legs around it's back.

I've come to the conclusion that it's a poor, poor substitute.

So I was thinking...

Maybe like last Spring I should try the old Craigslist approach to dating.

So I checked it out...and saw nothing but dregs. Or if they weren't dregs, they didn't seem all that interesting.

So then I was thinking...

Should I post another ad? They usually get lots of responses (over 300 once...how very flattering).

And then I thought, "Just drink your beer and get drunk, you're on vacation--from everything."

Plus my headline could only be, "Fuck me gently with a chainsaw"...and I can't afford to be dating Patrick Bateman right now.
I think I'll just grab that beer.

So we had a baby shower for one of my best friends at work today. In the middle of the shower this one lady starts walking in my direction (someone I've only said hello to in passing) and I knew, "Uh oh."

"So are you the English teacher who's dating John? I just love him...you do know the backstory right? He used to date our daughter...you know he comes over to our house still every now and then and we can all hang out. From what everyone tells me about you, I bet you two really hit it off..." (she never stops talking and never lets me get in a word) "...so yeah, do you go to the city a lot? I bet that's fun...I bet you two are really going to get somewhere, he's an accountant right and you a successful young lady??" (I wish I was making all this up...but my friend Nikki repeated it verbatim to me so I could remember exactly what she said. After the first few sentences of her talking I stopped concentrating on what she was saying and more on when I was going to cut in and say the following:

"Um yeah no, thanks...um yeah, he's a great guy. Um...he broke up with me a while ago...we were just getting dinner when we ran into your husband. He's actually hanging out with someone else now."

She stands up and says, "My, this is awkward. I was just talking to John's sister trying to figure out who you were when I was getting this gift certificate for the shower...oh, I'm sorry." (and there was more, but at this point there about 50 women totally tuned into my dating failure so I quickly blurted:

"Seriously, it's ok. It's not your fault, I swear!"

But I don't think she believed me, because she backed away from me and sat in the opposite corner of the room. Hey, if you can't laugh at these random encounters that bring me closer together with people I don't know because of John, what can you do? No,
seriously, what can you do?

***edit***I get this email from my one friend who was there...it was her baby shower and she sent me a couple of emails about the slightly awkward/mostly funny moment. She says about the post (she's one of three people I work with that reads this religiously):
"I just read it- and that is what I mean, your life is what they make movies and HBO series about. never a dull moment...I can't think of anyone who would want to watch the show about the pregnant lady who goes to the produce stand and washes her husband's underwear..."

I'm trying so hard--to not be jealous...but it's an emotion that is seriously driving my life right now. Whoa! Watch out! I feel like I'm just on a constant jealousy rampage for the past few days and my eyes are narrowed into little jealous slits.

I see Her cute flirty comments on John's page about a roommate wanting a couch cleaned and I think about all the time we spent on the couch...and I'm jealous. Well I alternate between that and wanting to punch her in her face. But I suppose it's better than wanting to cry all the time...it's an improvement no? Eh, I don't know.

I hang out with Chelle and her boyfriend, and while they are trying to make me feel better and keep me from thinking about things in my effort to not mope and to transition back to normal as simply and effortlessly as John did. While they're talking to me and entertaining me I'm totally jealous of the flirty banter between them and the little hand squeezes under the table. Even right next to them at the bar, I feel like I'm alone.

I see T with the guy that she hangs out with and I'm jealous, jealous that she was able to say, "I don't want you to be my boyfriend" but they still go out all the time, and go away all the time together and aside from the status...they are together and it seems to work for them.

I talk to my mom on the phone and while she's talking to me, her boyfriend is cooking her favorite meal for her and planting kisses on her cheek and all I want to do is hang up on her.

I talk to all of them and I try not to feel so evil...I mean, while I'm talking to any of them--I'm actually pissed off. Not pissed off at them, but at myself because I can't control my goddamn emotions (although it doesn't help that I'm PMSing). Pissed off and having a pity party for myself, constantly asking myself, "Why the fuck doesn't anything ever work out for me?"

Last night I went out for a little and across from me was a guy who was saying everything that my black heart was thinking. I think his girlfriend broke up with him, so the bitterness flowed from his drunken mouth and I kept thinking, so this is what happens when I get beyond the jealousy? Let's hope not.

Ah the Shins...they say it better than me sometimes...
New Slang
Gold teeth and a curse for this town were all in my mouth.
Only, I don't know how they got out, dear.
Turn me back into the pet that I was when we met.
I was happier then with no mind-set.

And if you'd 'a took to me like A gull takes to the wind.
Well, I'd 'a jumped from my tree
And I'd a danced like the king of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.

New slang when you notice the stripes, the dirt in your fries.
Hope it's right when you die, old and bony.
Dawn breaks like a bull through the hall,
Never should have called
But my head's to the wall and I'm lonely.

And if you'd 'a took to me like
A gull takes to the wind.
Well, I'd 'a jumped from my tree
And I'd a danced like the king of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.

God speed all the bakers at dawn may they all cut their thumbs,
And bleed into their buns 'till they melt away.
I'm looking in on the good life I might be doomed never to find.
Without a trust or flaming fields am I too dumb to refine?

And if you'd 'a took to me like
Well I'd a danced like the queen of the eyesores
And the rest of our lives would 'a fared well.

Today was a miserable day spent in a "workshop" (read: a sactioned day of hell) with a woman I had the unfortunate luck of knowing from a graduate class I took a few years back from her...all day she rambled...all day I busted out Anchorman quotes. It was an entirely unproductive day for me and there wasn't anything for me to take from the day aside from the fact that I should've called out sick. We got to do a little writing, but as I was making my freewrite list, I realized that it was full of all the things I have been and am still preoccupied with, and so I didn't want to write about any of those things. I dug deep.

I ended up writing about David Hasselhoff...my group was laughing so hard at my ten minute freewrite about The Hoff that I had to share it at the workshop. The evil bitch of a professor didn't even crack a smile, not even when I mused on the age old question, "silicone vs. saline" in the paper.

Last night was my last "official" moping Sunday...I say that because I feel like I've been moping every Sunday for the past month...not so healthy huh? It always seem like I have a great weekend with him and then by Sunday I'm miserable. So I aimed to fix this. While John was off charming some girl who's going to think she's found her Prince Charming (because he is indeed quite charming), I was wined and dined by my friends here at my house...they whipped up fajitas on the grill, put Anchorman into the DVD player, beers in my hand and then they whisked me off to the FQB for a little socialization.

For the most part, the FQB was pretty tame. We did a bunch of shots and drank countless rounds of expensive beers (I got to go into work later than usual today so I took advantage of that fact), and they just tried to make me laugh for a couple of hours. Seriously, I'm not trying to feel like this anymore, it's actually pretty tiring, so I tried faking a little happiness to see if that would work. It didn't really, but at least it put the friends at ease. I'm usually the one laughing the most and the loudest...when I'm not laughing and cracking jokes, it does seem weird--even to me. My friends deserve wartime pay or something. They have been the best, because they don't bash him and they don't try to pretend to understand what the fuck went down these past few months! They just let me talk about it when I wanted to talk, and filled my glass when I didn't.

What did get me to laugh was this black guy at the bar...he was dressed just like the Harlem Globetrotters in the Scooby Doo episode that they were in that one time. I mean, my man was dressed in full on red, with blue stripes and white stars. Ok, so the outfit (complete with a red sweatband slung jauntily on his head and pink sunglasses)
, in itself was hilarious but then he kept yelling how he worked for Donald Trump and then he got kicked out of the bar because he was badgering some lady, trying to show her his license where it supposedly "said" that he was a Trump emplyoyee. He really brought the bar together because we were all openly laughing at him. Two minutes after he's kicked out, he comes back in, screaming on his cell about how he knows the owner and that he should be allowed to stay and drink with us. It looked like it was getting a little heated until a guy grabbed him, started talking to him about just coming home from Iraq (I don't know how that fit in their conversation but I was too busy with my head on the bar laughing so hard tears were in my eyes). The good samaritan took it upon himself to walk the guy home and we also took it upon ourselves to head home as well.

Home and in bed by 12, I tossed and turned all night...stuck thinking about the stuff I'm trying to push away. Finally around 5am I fell asleep, got a couple of hours of shut eye and then it was off to work for the longest, most boring day of my career. It appears the Universe wasn't down with the idea of cheering me up...
but I'm working on it. surely I am.

After tomorrow at 3pm I will be on vacation until next Tuesday, there's something to be cheerful about...but what to do?

So and Johnny and I were talking on email on Friday and he didn't have plans so he decided to come hang out with me and the ladies for drinks, laughs and fun times. He had a caveat in his email though, "No raping me, ok?" And so I moped a little. Not because of the no sex thing, I mean, yeah I wanted it but because we really were moving along towards the friend track. Don't get me wrong, I want John in my life...but as a friend? It's a difficult adjustment. Most likely because I didn't want to make it.

We kind of failed miserably on the no sex thing...Saturday morning we kind of just gave in to that. I'm not going to lie, I love having sex with John...it's definitely something I'm going to miss. And here's why. He slept with someone else. He moved on while I sat here and wishing he was with me making me laugh, kissing me, singing songs with me and he's off doing that with some other girl. It's frustrating. It's a little heartbreaking and it's definitely not fair--in my eyes. I hate not "winning". I hate not being wanted by him. I hate the "not good enough" feeling...and yeah, everyone will say, "No, you got it all wrong, he wasn't good enough for you." But in fact, he was good enough for me...he was perfect for me...he was everything that I wanted all packaged in one flawed and adorable man. And believe me, I have no idea why. Why I decided to open up my heart after all this time? No clue.

Today when we were laying in bed he said to me, "You're going to make it so that we can't hang out..." because I was trying to make him blow the whore off, I mean girl. I'm sure she's really lovely ( I want to stick a lit cigarette in her eye). It's a weird adjustment. When I see him, it's not all about sex...it's about all the good times I have with him, and when we hang out I really do feel like the rest of the world could fall away and I could just lay on the couch laughing with him for days. He's like my concetrated happiness...and he can't be...he doesn't want to be. It's hard to turn off the whole, "I love you" thing. Is it actually possible? To make feelings that you have for someone just go away? I mean, and I said this to him, yeah I defintely did love him but it wasn't him that I was in love with...it was the construct of John that he made for me. And even knowing that, it's hard to be told that I just have to turn that off. With him, I would take anything that he gave to me...any situation. Hang out on weekends and have sex? Sure, fine. Marry him and fix him? Sure, anything you say John (although he definitely did NOT say that one!). Anything you say. It freaks me out a little that I feel that way, the idea that I seriously would just take anything that he would give me. That's sheer desperation or something there. And that's not totally me. I'm not an ugly girl, I'm not a stupid girl, I've never been a deperate girl before. Why now? Why him? It's not attractive or enticing and yet...I have to fight my every urge to hang on to him. And obviously, I wasn't fighting those urges today.

We talked about that too. What's so special about him that makes me want to give him everything? We didn't really have an answer for that. I guess for me, being with him, spending time with him it makes my days a little brighter, a little happier, a little easier to deal with. He cuts the monotony out of everything. And so we're friends now, and I will take that, as I would take anything that John would give me. I don't mean that in a negative way either...he's trying hard to be a stand up guy (slightly after the fact), he doesn't want to "use" me or confuse me and he's being completely straight up with me...but it doesn't change the fact that I want him. I want his heart. I want his mind. I want him. I want to go to sleep at night next to him and wake up in the morning in his arms. And he? He doesn't want a serious relationship...of course my answer to that is, "Fine, date me unseriously then." Obviously that didn't work either. But I had to try. Or maybe I didn't...but I did it anyway.

Obviously, I won't be able to hang out with him when he's hanging out with this new girl (I mean I don't envision the three of us all hanging out and going to the bars or anything like that) but I think with a little effort and restraint on my part we'll be ok. I just have to push those thoughts of, "Maybe he'll change his mind?" way back in my head...actually, out of my head altogether. It's done, and done is done. He's a person I want in my life and to do that, it's time to get him out of my heart, a place where didn't want to be in the first place. I'll be ok. It's time to be a grown up and stop having emotional temper trantrums because things didn't turn out the way I wanted them to. Yeah, you like who you like, but you can't make them like you back right? Lesson learned.

Friends. We can do that.

It's question time dear readers...I'm sick of coming up with my own mournful/soulful posts of late and since I'm not doing anything fun since all my friends have boyfriends, I don't have anything good to write! So I'm asking you to help me. C'mon it's the 21st century, let's make this an interactive blog. As you write the questions, I'll post them here and then answer them. Oh what fun, right? Well, maybe.
****as the questions come in...I add them below***

Have you tried the new HOT Cheetohs? why no, no I haven't...but I love Cheetohs so I'm sure at some point in a drunken trip (someone else driving of course) I will taste a little of this hot heaven you speak of.

Myself? thanks for asking. I have not. I'm a bit of a traditionalist with my Cheetohs.

o.k. on a more forum friendly note...it's serious time here. uh oh...

Melina - what is your ideal scenario/lifestyle environment 8 years from now? 8 years from now I hope that I will be sharing my heart and home with someone, this being alone thing is wearing thin on my soul. It's been too long, and I'm tired of relying totally on myself for everything. I want to be part of a whole, rather than the whole itself. Ideally, I will either still have my job or I will have one that's equally rewarding, but flexible enough to feed my adventurous soul. It needs some nourishment. Kids would be cool, so that I could impart all the fun, interesting theories on life that my dad left me with. what are you doing for relaxation, socially? intellectually? In all honesty? I've been wasting away. I'm miserable and I can't really put my finger on it...just completely dissatisfied with everything. I've steered clear of socializing, kinda. Intellectually? I typically read like a ravenous animal, but lately I can't concentrate on books, people or movies. Sorry, lame answer but it's a true one.

#2) Do you think Steve Earle is one of the better American, non-mainstream songwriters of today? I Googled Steve Earle because he's a man I knew nothing of...so, um...non-mainstream I'll agree with, the rest? I haven't a clue. But he has a beard, and I like beards. A lot.
Ale8one
Oh that was fun...I want more.

What about answering the questions on "Inside the Actor's Studio"? Here's the ones I can remember:1. What's your favorite curse word? it's a phrase, "For fuck's sake!" or damn.ass.hell.

2. What profession, other than your current one, would you like to try? I would like to get back into photography. I miss the darkroom, I miss taking photos. I threw away my entire portfolio after my dad died and I haven't taken a picture since. It's time to get back in the saddle. I'd also like to be a creative freelance writer. I've always been interested in this, but I've never known how one goes about pursuing that.

3. What profession would you not like to try? I would not like to be a dentist or a podiatrist.

4. What's your favorite sound? my laughter mingled with others.

5. Least favorite sound? disappointment in someone's voice

6. If heaven exists, what would you like to hear at the pearly gates? my dad calling my name.

Monica

Thanks Monica!

What is the most panic-inducing situation you've ever been involved with at a job? Getting observed by people. I spend my life in front of a crowd but panic a little each time "a head honcho" comes to observe me.
Most embarrassing situation at a job? Well I learned early on that I needed a bra with some padding since they keep my building slightly above iceberg temperature. It was fairly obscene and I almost poked a kid's eye out with my hard nipples...so thicker bras it has been ever since. Oh and another embarassing situation...I made out with a coworker and he told people that he had a threesome with me and my other friend. Meanwhile, I kissed him for like 30 seconds. Whatevs...
Who is the person in your life you've known the longest and with whom you still have a decent amount of communication? I've known Chelle for 27 years and actually, our friendship has only gotten stronger over the years...well it had to really, because she once dragged me around by my hair on her front lawn!!
Boring questions, I know. I'm trying to steer clear of the "Penthouse Pet" type questions (Turn ons? Turn offs?) Well I'm going to do the turn ons and turn offs anyways...cuz I'm bored.
Turn ons: sense of humor, intelligence, tattoos, beards, interesting quirks/habits/hobbies(things that I can poke fun of), kindness, unavailability...if I can't have you...then I want you all the more (must I remind you of a certain young cook??) communication,vulnerability, sock monkeys, backrubs, people who think I'm wonderful and the beach is a definite turn on. Oh who am I kidding? I get turned on more than a lamp. "I love lamp." It really doesn't take much...

Turn offs: lies, stupidity, bigotry, math, semen trees, horseshoes, bad breath, bananas, boring sex.

Thanks Scott!

Two things...

One. An actual statement that came out of my mouth this morning, "You don't understand how much I hate Pink Floyd. I rather be sober and awake while having a frontal lobotomy and eating a banana."

Two. The trees outside my house are in bloom and the blooms smell like semen.

Went out with Chelle and Katie last night for $5 pitchers and clams (mmm clams...I love clams, they remind me of summer,and I love summer). I think that sentence could say it all, but I guess it doesn't. Chelle was upset because it looks like her honeymoon with Rob is over. He didn't want to go out with us last night and I guess he was being short with her recently, or at the very least...less lovey dovey. It was bound to happen I suppose and I tried to not put my own personal slant on it, but by pitcher number three I remember uttering the words, "What didya expect? These boys...they rope you in so they can just push you away..." Good lord, when I start sounding bitter, it's time to drink more...to shut me up. I'm not a bitter girl, and I don't ever want to be. Don't ask me what I was saying by pitcher five...

Free shots were flowing from Sweet Cheeks and John's "favorite" asshole (some guy who's the biggest loser ever...and when John gets drunk he has absolutely no tolerance for him). For some reason, this guy now loves me and buys my friends and I shots every time I see him. So I had to answer the now age old "Where's John?" question four more times (I guess they were drunk last week when I told them??) but for four shots of Jameson I gladly proclaimed, "He broke up with me!" over and over again with a lovely smile on my face. Oh the joys of a local bar...I don't think that question will ever get old. Seriously. Never. Ever. Hell, John will be married and people will still ask me, "How's John? Is he coming up this weekend?" I think the sweetest thing uttered last night was when Sweet Cheeks said, "He broke up with you again! Aww, I'm sorry. He'll be kicking himself. It might not make you feel better right now but you're a good girl, and a pretty girl.He'll kick himself in the long run." It was very sweet of him, the only reply I could come up with was, "How's about I kick him?" Of course, I was kidding.

On another front...and this is something that you need to know. Seriously, I don't even know how you would survive without knowing this. I'm sex starved. I haven't had sex since Sunday night, and I'm not one to just have sex once a week. If I had it my way, I'd have sex every day...possibly several times a day (aside from sex with myself, which is a given). I don't know, I guess I have a high sex drive. Higher than some? Than most? I dunno.

Speaking of high sex drives, I "learned" about this crazy nymphomaniac who became that way by sustaining severe head trauma...she then ruined everyone's lives by screwing everyone and the family pet...it was a great made for TV movie aired on Lifetime (television for bitter women). So maybe I hit my head a few too many times, or maybe I'm just lucky. Or unlucky, when it comes to times like these.

There was a solution to my problem at the bar and his name was Matty. He offered help with my problem before I even said a word, obviously because he's very classy guy. But I just gave him a half smile and said, "Thanks but I can't." Matty took that to mean that I couldn't due to relationship obligations and that little word called fidelity. So he asked, "Same guy? You guys still together?" I shrugged, "Nah, but I just can't, my heart's not in it." At that he laughed and said, "Since when did your heart get in the way?" Touche, Matty, touche. There wasn't much point in continuing the conversation, or playing catch up so I just went back to my seat.

I have to move on, fine...but I can't go over one guy by getting under another. Well I could, but that would just be a temporary solution, and as much as my body is telling me otherwise...I think I made the right decision. I'm going to miss the days when I'm old when boys just throw offers of sex at my feet. Two last night, not so shabby....

This is just a random thought I had while soaping up in the shower a few minutes ago, besides the thought of, "Good God woman, throw out all those old razors!" Because seriously, there's about 19 of them littering the sides of the shower...

So while putting some shampoo in my hair I got to thinking about John. He breaks up with me to chase after Rachel (the first time...) although I didn't know that at the time. He gets back with me and he breaks up with his band. I try the absolute no pressure approach, the "I just want to enjoy the time I get to spend with you" and he breaks up (well I guess we never officially got back together...so errr...he cuts me off I suppose would be a better term) with me again. Now he "breaks up" with school, and his dad/son annual retreat. I'm not passing judgement on any of these things except breaking up with me...everything else, I can see how it just wasn't right. Me? He'll never be able to explain that one to me...I don't care what he says. See? One of my best qualities right there...stubborn defiance. But that wasn't what I was thinking about...

I was thinking about how he seems to be a soul adrift at sea. No matter how many people try to throw him a lifesaver and pull him back to safety, he seems to find some kind of comfort being tossed about in chaos and turbulence. He shys away from safer moorings and struggles to swim toward distant shores that seem the most menacing, and the most troublesome. And yet, when I talk with him...it seems like he just wants someone to catch him and save him from himself. Someone to hold onto him while he tries to self-destruct. He's another one who seems to raze everything to the ground and try to rebuild out of the ashes (like I posted about myself below a couple of days ago). Knowing that I'm not the girl that he's going to allow to do that; to grab him and hold him tight to me and keep him safe makes a part of me hurt. Not a stinging pain of rejection, but a hollow and deep one that I can't quite label. It's not totally about my heart and wanting to be with him (although there is a part of me that I'm fighting fiercely to force myself to just let go, I mean you can't hold onto someone who never let you really in, in the first place...), it's about seeing someone so exceptional who just cannot see that in himself. I want to be a mirror sometimes and cast for him his true reflection and not the one that he sees, because he only sees the flaws and what needs to be fixed. I see his potential, the perfect elements of himself that he hides. But then again, that's what I do. I see potential in everything. While he lets other people down, it's himself whom he can't stop letting down and I know that it is wearing on him.

Surfing is one of his outlets and I can see why. It's really an extention of himself. There, he's surrounded by everything that he can't control. The waves will come how they will come, no matter what he does about it. He's there only to find those few moments where he's perfectly balanced, perfectly connected to everything, and he doesn't have to fight anything. He just has to go with it.

Be safe. Don't fight yourself, find your wave. The struggle isn't the point, it isn't noble...the balance is.

(A post I wrote last week...I'm struggling with what to write about today...any suggestions??)

There are little reminders here of John, some of which I have to fight myself to throw away...because really they are just trash.

a band-aid (which don't worry, I threw that away), from when he got blistered on his feet from a bit of rugburn on the day after my birthday. If you're wondering how I know it was his bandaid, it was because it was crumpled up alongside my bed on "his" side AND, um...I don't own bandaids, I snag them off my friends from their purses when I need them.

a half a pack of Parliaments that were hiding downstairs in my basement on the bookshelf.

we rearranged my living room together and did such a spectacular job of cleaning (well he did. i took that opportunity to drink Jameson and help a little...well it was my birthday weekend!!). It looks so much better but it's a constant reminder of who's missing.

little post it notes on my calendar with his bday on it, dates to ask him about for a mini road trip, and other little reminders for me to ask him questions about. I took all of them off the calendar and balled them up just now.

constant spam from hotwire about inexpensive flights to San Diego.

a sock that he lost because my dog took it out back into my yard...and he had to wear one of mine home.

bras and underwear that I bought specifically when I met him. You know how you need new lingerie when you first start hanging out with someone new? well yeah, there's a few pieces here that I pull out of the drawer and just put right back. There's even a cute little halter babydoll that I bought for him, that I never got a chance to wear...maybe because we rarely made it upstairs and just put a show on for the neighbors on the couch. I'm looking for the packing slip to see if it's still around to send it back.

Stupid stuff for sure...but stupid stuff that as I throw some of it out I get sad about doing it.

Over the past couple of days I've been fighting this niggling thought in my head...
and it's going to blow everyone's mind!

I want babies. The clock finally started working...it's not booming in my ear or anything, but it's definitely working.I've finally come to an affirmative decision on the matter. I've been holding my friends' babies with envy...that never happened before, maybe awe but never this.It's a nice but frightening thought, but at the moment it's just a thought.

But don't worry (um especially you John since you're the only person who would really worry about this post, I'm not talking about having your baby) I'm not planning on having one tomorrow...or probably ever at this rate, for one thing I've been on the pill for 14 years! I need another income, someone to love me first and I need to get to get out of the country and do a little world exploration (or at least some in country exploration) before I make a life commitment, but it's nice to know I want them...or one. One would be fine.

This post freaked me out to write it, and I'm wondering if my mom's phone call has anything to do with finally putting the thoughts that have been going through my head on paper...or blog so to speak.

Last night my mom called for our "check up" where we usually make fun of each other, make fun of others and then talk about the dogs. But last night while helping T load the final remnants of her life in one apartment in the car bound for a new apartment, my mom clears her throat and says,
"I haven't been feeling all that well lately, and I just wanted you to know. Just in case..."
and she trailed off. Who says, "Just in case...and trails off? Only a sadist I tell you!

So of course, I get that feeling of ice picks marching their way up my spine and I hear myself ask, "Is it your liver? Does your liver hurt?"

And she replies, "Yeah, it's swollen. So I need you to know who my specialists are and all...but I'll give you that info tomorrow when you're at home."

And so now, I'm panicked...One,because my mom would never alarm me if there wasn't a good reason for it and two, my mom has Hepetitis C and it's a "pretty nasty strain of the virus", or so says one of my mom's specialists who specializes in punching holes in her liver every six months.

This is the one of the few things that made me smile today...

I hate this post. I think I need to write another one...one about sex, or stupid humor, or about what makes me wonderful...that kind of post would make me happy. I'll work on that.

So it was briefly mentioned yesterday, but John has this thing called the "Life Wagon"...well actually, he said, "I need to get on the wagon...but not the drinking one..." and being the annoying wordsmith that I am, I suggested, "The Life Wagon?" and thus, the Life Wagon came into existence. It had always existed, it just hadn't been named properly.

How many of us fear that we're not living up to our potential? And what, praytell, is our actual potential? We all have these pictures, ideas and timelines for events that should occur in our lives to make them "perfect"...I mean, I always thought that I would at least have someone who wanted to spend his life with me by now--I've never really narrowed down the marriage timeline so I'm not bothered by that (as much), but the lack of a man who understands me and looks forward to see my quirks and personality grow and unfold, does. By systematically dating half of Eastern Pennsylvania I was sure that I narrowed the candidates and felt as though I interviewed them accordingly. Obviously, it hasn't worked out that way. Work-wise I'm very happy...although there are some tense moments right now, and the Life Wagon is not happy with me. My job is fantastic and I can't picture myself having done anything else...well except maybe be a professional Relaxer, I'd be a killer Pro Relaxer. But things are different with John...

He's discontent. His work, is work...I'm not sure how fulfilling it is for him (although, I'd take his paycheck over mine!), he's bored, he's unchallenged (it seems...I'm not totally sure how much of this is true) and I think he's becoming a little resentful of work. Part of him feels like he would've been hitched by now...perhaps there should even be a little John creeping around on the floor with a pacifier in his mouth (and no...not the Little John that hangs with Usher and yells, "Ooookkkkk"). How would that have changed any of us? Would we be more mature had we gone the kid route earlier? Or would we be selfish immature parents who would probably ignore the kid and still be "trying to get our lives on track"? And what constitutes "on track?" Why do we feel derailed, or at least stalled so often?

The "Life Wagon" waits patiently for us...and others to get on it. We are supposed to be professionals. We're supposed to be putting work/master's degrees and all those things that are supposed to be bettering us, first. The trouble with that is, it's no fun. Both of us are like the kid with a cold who's not allowed to go outside and play in the snow. We sit there resentful, noses pressed against the glass watching everyone sledding and building snowmen...But rather than be wistful of playing in snow, we watch as everyone goes carousing on the streets...staying out until all hours of the morning, hanging out with all kinds of interesting people, creating memories, and becoming legends. While all this is happening, who wouldn't want to be strong and say, "Oh...you guys have a good time...I think I'm going to stay in and read this very dry text book because it's what I need to do." It kind of leaves a bit of a dry feeling in your mouth doesn't it? When I say statements like this, I look like I'm chewing on cotton. It's not as hot as you might think.

We look at the "Life Wagon" parked outside on the street,(it's about as cool as a station wagon or a mini van) and we think to ourselves, "If I sneak out the back door, the Life Wagon will never know." And so we continously run covert operations to slowly sabotage our lives. We become resentful of the Life Wagon and rebel against it. And when we rebel against it, we seems to fall further away from our goals, which then causes us to claw our way back up to where we last were...and thus a vicious cycle is born--life. fix it. resent it. try to make it better. resent it. screw stuff up. resent that. fix it. resent that.

Does anyone else feel this way? Or is it just us?

What is it about sex, especially good sex? When I get a little, I want a lot (I know, I know...I'm not alone). Give me just a taste of it and I'm done for the next two days. I become unproductive in all other aspects of my life while I scheme about how I can get some more. I think about it, and picture it. Like an old camera reel, the old film projector casts grainy frantic moments in the movie theater that is my mind. I think about the sounds we made, the feel of his skin, the feel of his skin on mine. I think about the slickness of our bodies from the sweat, the salty sweetness of that sweat. The kisses on the velvety nape of my neck that make me shiver from the inside out until it's visible on my skin as goosebumps. Those other intimate kisses that forces my back to arch deep into the bed and my words to get caught in my throat.

And then the moments afterwards; the panting, the frenetic beating of my heart pounding in my ears and my chest, pushing against my skin to get out. The weakness of my limbs, as we lay in crumpled heaps of arms, torsos, and legs. My wild hair, tangled in damp waves and knots against the pillow, my shoulder and his. The comforter flung far from the bed, sheets ripped from the mattress--we lay there spent...and even then I grin thinking about the next time I'm going to get more.

I'm going to drive myself crazy. Or has that already happened?

John and I began trading messages around noon because he was out with his roommates drinking Bloody Marys and he thought of our "Bloody Sundays"... Bloody Marys, Catchphrase, food and cracking each other up (and sex??) I can't remember...but I would hope so, but then again we had T there, so it might not've happened. I'll rectify that this time :))!

I sent him a message back, "What made you think of that?" and he replied,
"Sundays with you and me and T are pretty much the best that's all." (awww...)
And so he sent another message, "Maybe next Sunday?"
To which I of course repiled, "Yes! Although, I'd like to see you before then, like tonight."

So after the baby shower, he invited me down to the city (due probably/mostly to my email the evening before and his conflicting schedule). We sat on the couch and he was a little uncomfortable, he doesn't hide his emotions very well (uh, well maybe sometimes he does, come to think of it) and the fact that he said, "I'm sorry this is weird," "You hate me,don't you?" interchangeably and often. I actually was fine, but I was just happy that we were hanging out that, I wasn't too worried what we were talking about. (Wow, I just sounded like a happy little puppy there...).

Aside from hanging out with John, the highlight of the night might've been Roommate 1's hangover/drunken state. While we were sitting on the couch, Roommate 1 came crutching down the stairs and apparently gave a "man apology" (as John informed me) for skipping out on paying for the brunch/drink bill and basically just for being a drunken obnoxious soul. As paybacks, he offered to hobble down the street and get us some Chinese food. As we ate, Roommate 1 kept saying, "Oh boy, this is all going to come up" and asked questions like, "Do you think the pizza's going to come up nicely?" Well, we were soon to find out. After chowing down for about 20 mins the poor boy felt the need to pull the trigger...but since Roommate 2 was in the bathroom, he had to go off the back porch and regale us with his retching (I was giving him scores through the open window)...it was actually pretty funny. My favorite part? Roommate 1 comes back into the kitchen and says, "The pizza hasn't come out, it's expanded in my stomach like a doughy Deathstar." That had me cackling away...never fear after three trips out the back door, the doughy Deathstar was no more and he announced that he was indeed, ready to drink again (although, it appears that never happened).

Poor John, he kind of looked like he didn't know what to do, as if this was going to offend my gentle sensibilities or something (silly boy). He just kept glancing at me, and then looking at his incredibly drunk (even his hair was drunk) roommate. Because John was doing laundry, he left me with the boys for a little to switch the clothes over to the dryer. This where I learned that I may have the opportunity to attend a wedding in Vegas in May, because Roommate 1 took a Watermelon Mr. Bubbles bath with this girl that he's known for a while and well, "She's not too bad. And we could just get it over with and having a quickie divorce." You really can't fault that logic. Hell, I may do the same someday.

Roommate 2 was moping in the living room reading the world's oldest book about surfing on the couch because Roommate 1 said that he couldn't go out with him because he didn't feel like dealing with nakedness and the police. I didn't really ask, so I can't really tell you what that's all about. All I know is that Roommate 2 had a police escort home the other night...so I'm guessing that's where all of this springs from.

John and I decided to head up to the bar that we went to last Friday...but this time I could actually see the inside of it and gravity wasn't causing me fall over, nor was I drooling on myself (not that I was last time...at least not that I'm aware of). We settled down with a few beers and attempted to get comfortable with each other (I mean we're comfortable to a point, but then there's another point where we both just look at each other and shake our heads)...it's weird, I feel totally at ease with him, but he did point out that there are a limited amount of subjects we're kind of stuck on right now. And here they are:

1. Blog posts...past, present and future. For example: misrepresenting him...Just so you know, I got it wrong, he DIDN'T say he loved me at the airport, it was the day before at the FQB...just wanted to get that right--since apparently, that was bugging him (nerd). I didn't misrepresent when you were being an asshole did I?? ha ha. Actually, he said I was pretty accurate, and that's always a good thing to butter up the writer when you're a character in her blog. Smart move Ace.

2. The question, "What did we talk about before the blog?" It's true, we're both a little obsessive about it...well, I think we're both a little obsessive about a lot of things.

3. Getting on the Life Wagon (this might just be a post in itself...it's fairly humorous, yep, I think I'm saving that one for later)

4. Melina's "Had I known you were a total train wreck..." speech. It starts off like that but then it varies, I gave it several times last night (another one I think I should save). Although to be fair, had I known he was a train wreck I would've probably liked him even more.

5. "Arguing" (more like debating) that he has in fact followed through with things that he says he's going to do...but seriously, aside from following through with my orgasms or the Strokes tickets...he's not big on the follow through. Although I'm not complaining about his enthusiasm on the former.

and there's more stuff too, but I think I need John's brain to help me remember them...

Anyways, a funny part of the evening was going back to the house and figuring out how to kiss. It was actually pretty cute. Obviously, we both know how to kiss but, he had a pretty bad scrape on his face and I didn't want to hurt him, so we kissed on one side of our faces...turns out that it works out ok that way too. Pretty soon we were ready to relocate upstairs where I was excited to hear about a new box spring to replace the old sagging one. The new one's a lot springier but it sure is squeaky too. I'm sure we entertained Roommate 1 and 2 who were directly below us watching a movie. Exhausted, sweaty and having lost an hour, we both were asleep within seconds. And this morning I was loathe to leave the warm bed and John's comfy arms and head out into the morning traffic...but I did.