Thought Stew: Simmering Bits of Randomness

I woke up wanting to write this morning.  I feel like I've lost steam lately and my blogs have been mediocre at best.  Here are some chunky bits that have been simmering in the cauldron of my mind:

Warning: The following subject matter may be uncomfortable for certain male subjects.  "Girly Talk" in progress.
There is a reason that Brazilian waxes are called Brazilians - in my case it is because I would literally be getting rid of a rain forest in said area.  You can tell how much a woman (mainly of the single variety) is having sex by how well she is groomed.  Not only just having sex, but thinking about sex.  I change my opinion...this goes for all women, as I am not just talking about the bikini area.  If a woman, married or not, has not shaved her legs or has thought to herself, "well...I could probably go one more day without shaving under my arms...nobody is going to see anyway", she is not even remotely thinking about getting laid.  There is also something about the chill in the air and the beginning of pants season that brings this on as well, I think.  I was having a little time with myself last night (yes. I mean masturbating. everyone does it and if they don't, then they should.) and I was like, "what the fuuuuuck!".  How did I not notice that this was going on?  Have I been that distracted?  When was the last time I actually took the time to make sure I was all pretty and stuff down there?  When was the last time I thought about sex??  I can probably reference my blog or my Facebook page to answer that question, but seriously....the term "out of control" comes to mind.  Let's just say I took care of the situation, in more ways than one.  Speaking of Brazilian waxes, I've always wanted to get one.  There is a place near my work and my home called The Pretty Kitty...I just love that name.  If I can get a tattoo, I can certainly handle hot wax in my genital area.  I think.

Next subject.

This picture freaks me out a little.  I love it.  I hate that holidays are so commercialized now.  Why can't we go back to this kind of Halloween?  Where scary was the point, not dressing up as a fucking Power Ranger or Hannah Montana!  These kids would scare the shit out of me if they came to my door for candy.
I was also reminded by Mr. Amazing that Christmas is around the corner, while we were speaking of commercialized celebrations.  Thank you, Mr. Amazing.  Thoughtful gifts are what I am all about, not how much things cost.  I am not very materialistic by nature either, so it pains me when my kids make out Christmas lists that include ridiculously expensive things.  I have no problem bringing their little heads out of the clouds and telling them there is no fucking way they are getting every single game system, video game, Ipod, computer, really cool toy that does a million things that they will play with for a week then throw into the bottom of their closet with the rest of the crap they've ever gotten on that outrageous list.  Be glad I am not knitting you homemade sweaters (which I would totally do if I could knit) and giving you stockings full of granola and certificates stating that there is now a star with your name on it.  Lets just go look at some really cool lights on a stranger's house and call it a great day, ok?  And no, I'm not putting the "Christ" back in Christmas.  (Holy shit.  Maybe I should change my name to Scrooge.)  We'll save this rant for December.

Speaking of Mr. Amazing, we have a little movie date tomorrow, which I am ecstatic about.  A scary movie and some snuggling on the couch? Perfection.  We talked last night on the phone and I still find it great that for two introverts, we sure do find a lot to talk about with each other.  He makes me smile.  I read his blog and I am inspired.  Yet he calls me Muse.  Oh...and he already said that he is my bitch.  Score!  He better be glad I am not a girl that will completely take advantage of that (I only will a little).

Lastly, the hammer has come down at work.  We are no longer allowed to Facebook, play games, etc while at work.  This also includes blogging, I'm sure.  Sssshhhh...don't tell anyone.  I have to fight the boredom somehow!  It hasn't been a huge issue yet, but I'm sure it will become one.  I have been piggybacking off my neighbor's wireless and all of a sudden it is secured again.  Now that I am without internet at home (unless I break down and buy my own, but who wants to do that?) and I am not able to go on Facebook at work, major withdrawals will ensue.  I also received, in a addition to the mass email that was sent to everyone, my own little personal email regarding tattoos in the workplace.  All of a sudden, they aren't ok.  My clothing and style needs to be more "work appropriate" and cover my ink.  I sooo wanted to tell them to fuck off, but as they ("they" being "the man") so eloquently put it, there are plenty of people out there that will gladly do whatever the fuck the bosses want and conform as much as necessary just to have a job.  School beckons.  It is screaming for me to come back.  I need to get over my fear of rejection and just email the counselor to ask if they will have me.  The worst thing that would happen is that I would have to go to a different (less adequate) school...which I really don't want to do.  I want to go to one of the best ones in the country, dammit.  Regret #1,341: Dropping out of school last year.  I will make it right, go back, work for myself, heal people, teach people how to heal others, and get as many tattoos as I damn well please.  The End.

That Witch Had it Coming.

I am currently sitting in my messy bedroom, finally feeling like I can form a complete sentence.  I had a conversation with myself today, for probably the thousandth time since high school, cursing the fact that I drank too much and how I hate being hungover.  Why is it that when you're partying, the thought "Gosh, I better stop.  I'm going to feel like shit tomorrow." never comes up?  It doesn't for me, anyway.  Tequila is not my friend.  Honestly, all hard liquor is my enemy and certainly seems to take its toll the older I get.  I went to that adult Halloween party last night and had a great time.  My witch costume turned out to be as spectacular as I'd hoped, I only knew one person there but still had fun, drank too much, fell out of my friend's truck backwards (my ass hurts today), and puked in her bushes on the way inside her house to pass out.  Poor thing...I became the drunk person that you have to take care of.  She deserves a medal.

My thoughts are wandering a lot today.  A few blogs ago I sent out a message into the universe (mainly in a joking manner) that I would "be good" if I was sent a great guy.  Somehow, some way, that half prayer half joke was answered.  I almost can't believe it, but am so thankful at the same time.  Sailor Girl made a joke about calling him Mr. Amazing, but I actually think he's earned it.  I don't know how he'll feel about that, but it just seems fitting.  We met at Starbucks on Thursday, then he surprised me by taking me to Color Me Mine to paint pottery.  It was the best first date I've ever had.  After, as we were talking I didn't really want to leave.  I wanted him to kiss me and I could tell that maybe he wanted to as well, but was being somewhat shy about it.  I was too!  But as I got into my truck to go home, I knew that I would kick myself for not getting a kiss.  I put the truck in park, got out, went up to him and just did it.  He said the next day that he was trying not to smile as I kissed him.  Never have I felt so instantaneously comfortable and happy around someone.  As a natural introvert, there is always a period of awkwardness that I have to get over, but I didn't feel any of that.  It didn't have anything to do with the fact that we had talked and emailed prior to our date...I don't know what it is.  I judge just about everything on how it makes me feel and just thinking about him brings a smile to my face.  And he feels the same way!  Mr. Amazing thinks that I am amazing...and beautiful and sexy and that he is lucky.  I think I might be the lucky one.  We were supposed to see each other today, but my hangover led to that being cancelled.  Throwing up is not usually something that I like to do on a date.  So, I'm supposed to go over to his place on Thursday and watch a scary movie.  Thursday can't come soon enough.  I want another kiss.

Chickens are scared of thunder.

Thunderstorms are in the Top 10 of my favorite things.  Honestly, I'm just throwing a number out there.  I have many favorite things...it is really hard to number them all.  Even a small insignificant thing that I like just a little bit becomes my favorite.  My emotions are extreme in some instances.  But the thunderstorms tonight!! Oh my god, they were wonderful! (see my use of exclamation points?)  At one point, as I was walking through my bedroom, a HUGE crack of thunder actually caused me to shriek, jump back away from my window and into the wall.  I hurt myself.  It was awesome.  I've never actually done that before.  Either I am getting old and my reflexes are not so hard core or I was distracted.
Ok...I was distracted.  In a good way!  I was talking to the guy that I met off of the dating website...the one that has yet to be named. (Maybe that will be his name..."One Who Has Yet to Be Named" No. Too long.)  I cannot think of a name for him!  That is bothering me!  He so deserves more than a letter.  Anyone who makes me laugh like he did deserves more than a letter as a fake name.  We're going out Thursday and he already has something up his sleeve.  "It's a surprise". That makes me smile.  I really like surprises.
I'm having a bit of a dilemma, though.  He is also a blogger.  It is inevitable that we will write about each other...we already are.  When I read about myself in his blog, it's almost like I am reading thoughts that are private that I shouldn't see.  I don't want him to feel uncomfortable about writing (or venting, if needed) about me and the fact that I will see it.  Knowing myself, I will probably censor what I write about him because I know he reads what I write.  I guess I should just stop over-obsessing about it.  I'm going to try. It does bring a smile to my face when he writes about me.  I'm excited to spend time with him.
(Him, him, him.  He needs a fucking name!)

I am really going to have a busy weekend.  Date on Thursday, happy hour work thing on Friday after work,  costume party on Saturday night, and a baby shower on Sunday night.  Whew!  Who wants to bet on whether I make it to the baby shower Sunday?  I want to go, so I must.  My PJs and couch will surely be calling to me.
I am super stoked to go to the costume party on Saturday night!  I can't wait to get dressed up and see my costume put together.  I found the greatest witch's hat.  I just need to get a few things for finishing touches.  Broom or no broom?  I'm not sure yet.  I think a broom just makes it that much better.
We'll see.  I still have to figure out what I am wearing to Sailor Girl's prom-themed birthday party.  I have a month for that still.  I'll end up waiting until the last minute.  I usually do.
Ok, now that I've basically just started spitting out the "to do" list in my head, it might be time for bed.  I am actually sleepy.  I had a great day and hopefully tomorrow will be the same.

There I go again, thinking I can have a social life.

Have I ever mentioned how great being a single mom is? NO?  Hmmm.  That's odd.

I was invited to an open bar event tonight.  Three hours of free drinks with a fun adult person.  Actually, SportsBabe is a friend of C2.  We've met and vowed to hang out, but have yet to have the chance.  So tonight I get a little IM, saying that I needed to be ready for an open bar at 7.  It just happened to be at a casino right around the corner from my house.  It would literally take me all of 2 minutes to get there.  I looked around.  I have Mini Me.  Just as I was about to respond, "I can't go", Mini Me busted through the front door stating that she was spending the night at her friend's house.  REALLY?!  This can't be happening.    Is this really happening?  I told SportsBabe that I would be there, hurriedly helped MiniMe pack up her things and her sleeping bag, sent her on her way, and hopped in the shower.  "Holy CRAP! I'm going out!!", I thought to myself.  I was way too excited.  It turned out to be my downfall.
I was getting ready to walk out the door and I saw Mini Me's things by the front door.  She obviously got a little over-excited a bit too early and her plans got ruined too.  Her friend said she could spend the night without actually asking first.  Mini Me confirmed that she was not spending the night when I found her playing outside.  "Go to your party, Mom.  I'm old enough.  I'm 8!  I'll be fine!", she told me.  I will admit that for a split second, that little evil version of me whispered in my ear that she was right.  I shook it off.  I turned around and walked back inside, actually fighting back tears.  I had a really difficult week.  I actually went without power for most of it.  I honestly cannot believe I am admitting that, but it's not like I am the only person on Earth that has ever dealt with it.  The power company was being a jerk and wouldn't give me a few extra days to pay my bill.  It's back on now.  It actually got turned back on as I was getting ready to go out.  It wasn't the end of the world not having electricity, but it really didn't make for a stress-free week.

I needed this free night out.  I needed fun with adults.  New adults.  Adults I have never spent time with.

So, now I am sitting on my couch, venting with my blog, in a fabulous strapless ensemble.  My ass looks amazing.  Maybe I'll go to the grocery store in this outfit, grab some wine, then come home, change into an oversize tee and watch Ghost Adventures.  That sounds so fun I can hardly stand it. (obviously, this is sarcasm)

I know one day I'll be able to have a life.  Mini Me will soon be spending time away on the weekends with her friends, just like Little Man does.  I'll have all the free time in the world and I'll be venting about how much I miss my babies and want to spend time with them....or not.  I literally missed my twenties.  I was in a relationship at 19, a mom at 20, and a mom for the second time at 23.  I left my ex a month shy of my 29th birthday.  I am ready to experience my single life and feel like I still have not been able to fully.  By the way, how the fuck am I supposed to keep a man when I can barely get out of the house to go on dates???!!  I'm sad.  I'm frustrated.  I need a hug...or at least a cuddle partner of the opposite sex to watch my show with.  :sighs:  This sucks.
I'll get over it.  I'll have a little to drink, I'll stalk people on Facebook that I hardly know, and watch cool shows about ghosts.
Damn. My boobs looks fucking great; it's a shame.  They really deserve to be looked at.  Sorry girls...another night.

Sidenote: I got a voicemail from my sister, Tattooed and Organic (hehe. I love that name).  She says that you know you're old when you go into Hot Topic looking for a Slayer and Iron Maiden T-shirt (of which I want both) and all they have are Justin Bieber and Twilight.  Isn't that the truth?  I used to be the cool person that shopped there...now I am the old broad that shops there.  Which is why I don't shop there.  Anyways, it made me smile and thinking about it is making me feel better already.

I love to know you.

I think I crossed the thin line over into desperation.  I, the El Pollo Loco, put a profile on an online dating website.  I did.  I had vowed earlier this year to never do that again.  I tried it before and all I got was an endless string of emails or texts asking me for a picture of my boobs and a few dates that went absolutely nowhere.

I was bored, though...and it was a site that I had never tried, so why the hell not.  I filled out the questionnaire, answering questions about my height, the dreaded "body shape", what I'm doing with my life (which totally freaked me out), and other miscellaneous things.  I did a pretty good job.  Of course, the current profile is probably the 10th version or something ridiculous; I've edited it endlessly.  I still can't really decide if I like this whole process or not.  It completely plays with my mind and honestly, there are slim pickins as far as decent men are concerned.  There are also various questions that are answered, which gives you a Match, Friend, and Enemy percentage on each person.  Enemy??  Couldn't they come up with something else?  What exactly am I supposed to think when someone is, for example: 90% Match, 79% Friend, 12% Enemy??  Someone explain this to me.  They also compare personalities on graphs that you can peruse...just to make sure you're making the correct choice of partner.  It always lists me as the kinkier one.  I laughed.  I am expecting a barrage of messages based just on this.  It's probably correct anyway.  Maybe I am just more honest and open when it comes to talking about sex (let's use this blog as an example, shall we?).

We are on day 3 or 4 or something of me completing my profile.  I already found this one person that I really liked, messaged, and he didn't write me back.  Yet.  "Yet", I say to myself.  Let's be positive about this.  It is kind of difficult to be positive, when I already came across the traditional douches:

1.  Guy with some version of the word "crazy" as his profile name and a picture to match.

2.  The guy with no profile info except for a picture, who messages with, "You lookin' to get together?".

3.  The awkward person that message contains only the words "How are you".  No punctuation, no hello, no introduction of names.

4.  The foreign guy who says he works with the United Nations, can barely speak English ("I love to know you.  You are so sweet.  You have nice smile.").  Next, I'll be receiving an email asking me for money or something.  These guys scream scam to me.

5.  The guy that puts himself down in the first email and literally acts like he's not worth your time.  "Well, I'll let you go and read something that is actually interesting."  And he wonders why he can't get a date.

6.  The guy who states in his profile that he is good at "plan of attacks".  I take this to mean he either plays D&D or WoW.

I did get a few messages this morning, with one being very promising.  We have already exchanged emails today and I gave him my number.  Is this slutty in the online dating world?  Leave it to me to be slutty.  He shall have a special name on this blog before long.  Hopefully he will be worthy of a totally cool name, instead of just a letter...
The other guys...eh.  Not too exciting.  One is 44.  I dated a 44 year old once.  He french kissed my ear and I was never the same (and not in a good way).

I need to change for you to like me? You can kiss my chicken ass.

At first my feelings were fucking hurt, but now I'm mad (honestly, I still feel a little like crap...but more mad than anything).
I knew something was up with C2.  He hasn't been coming to town, our emails/IMs have been sparse...and when we did talk, the conversation was lacking.  This is my fault (so I've been told).  He was testing me.  What the hell is up with all the tests lately??  We were IMing last night.  We got into a conversation about social interactions, which I now believe I was led into.  Towards what became the end of the conversation, he said, "I don't think I turn you on".  That came out of nowhere, I thought to myself.  I couldn't lie, though...it's the truth.  I don't think of him and get all crazy excited in my nether regions and I never have.  In fact, I have always felt slightly uncomfortable around him...now I realize it is because my sub-conscious picked up on the fact that this entire time he has been judging me.  He told me that I am too submissive and not "take charge" enough.  I don't initiate conversation.  I let him bring up a subject, then agree or disagree.  "This is our relationship", he said.  The only compliment he ever gave me was that I was a good lover (but apparently not good enough) and that I am smart (but I don't use it).  It was like a bad yearly review at a job.  Harsh mentions of my weaknesses intermingled with slight compliments.

Then he said he wanted to change me.

This was pretty much my expression.


He said that he has actively been trying to change me, but that it didn't look like I was ready to.  Like the fact that I am a quiet person is a horrible thing to be.  I'm sorry that I don't want to philosophize about life and the universe.  I want to do fun things.  And by the way...what the fuck makes you so great that I need to change my entire personality just to make you happy and able to stand being around me (he said that I had been getting on his nerves lately)?!  Nothing.  C2 is not that amazing.  He doesn't love me, he doesn't want to spend the rest of his life with me...he just wants us to be more compatible in bed.  Which isn't going to happen if I am not attracted to him like I thought I would be anyway.  He doesn't even like to kiss!!!!  Why?  Because it is too intimate and emotional.  What?! 
I didn't go over all the things about him that I didn't like, but was overlooking...hoping that at some point he would make me feel comfortable.  We are just not compatible as a couple.  Now that I know how he feels about me...I don't know if we're compatible as friends, either.  Who wants to be worried the entire time they are with someone about whether or not you're "good enough".  Life is way too short.  I saw a line in a book once, where a character says, "I've given guys blow jobs because I've run out of things to say."  This cracks me the fuck up.  Obviously that isn't working with C2 and I anymore.  C'est la vie says the chicken.

I told him there are plenty of people in this world that like me just the way I am.



This is a test. It is only a test.

I am not religious and I'm not going to get into a debate over religion.  But...if I were...I would definitely say that God is testing me right now.  I would also occasionally say that Jesus probably drinks himself to sleep when he hears me talk the way I do, but that's a whole other story, isn't it?

So, I was given a test today.  After I just wrote a blog about holding out in order to find the right guy (namely a single one), I received a friend request from married guy on Facebook.  I accepted it.  I accepted a friend request from a guy that said some extremely colorful things to me during our first meeting, one of which involved snorting certain illegal substances off my inner thigh.  Stupid.  I got a private message this morning...very casual at first...along the lines of "How you doin' girl?".  I was surprised that he had even requested me, because he is overly paranoid about his wife finding out about his extra-marital activities.  I told him that in my response.  He wrote back that basically he was over it and had "been thinking about kicking it and has been craving a good time".  I'm sorry, did I miss something?  Am I an escort?  A hooker?  Of course, he offered no money during this transaction, so I guess that just makes me a whore, then??  I say that now, because I have some clarity.  At the time, when I was looking at the email trying to think of a response and he IM'd me...I went along.  We conversed.  We talked about sex...a lot of sex.  I won't lie and say it didn't turn me on.  It totally did - like biting my lip, squirming in my chair, thinking of sneaking off to the other room and taking care of myself turned on.  The heat from my loins was clouding my rational thinking.  He wanted to meet up...soon.  I didn't say no, but I am going to.  I am going to be the "tease" and change my mind.  The worst that will happen is that he will delete me as a friend on Facebook and will completely avoid me if we are ever in the same room again.  I can handle that.  I'm not willing, however, to find out what bad things will happen if we do get involved.  I will be the one who ends up getting hurt in the end, not him.  Like I said in my last blog, I am worth more than to be kept a secret.  I need a man I can do things with...that I can go in public with. A regular, normal boyfriend-type person.  Ok, maybe not normal.  I like things a little away from the norm (psst: I have someone in mind!), but come on!  Please, God or PBR drinking Jesus or Universe or Whoever...send me a real relationship and I promise I'll be good.  I promise I'll say no and pass this test.  There is no threat to my success other than my inner-slut emerging, and I can damn well control that little bitch.  I think.  I can at least subdue her until I find said boyfriend and unleash that minx on him...becoming the best girlfriend on Earth...ok?
Thank you, Amen, Namaste, Blessed Be and all that.

Thankfulness. Now that is something powerful.

I had written in my last blog that I got a huge dose of thankfulness the other week.  I try to be thankful every day for at least one thing.  Sometimes, we focus too much on the things we don't have or what isn't right in our lives...everyone is guilty of it.  The week before last I came across an article written by a woman who was a single mom and homeless. She had been evicted from her home and her and her two daughters lived in a mini-winnebago for six years.  Six years.  Work was the wrong place to read this...I fought back tears reading about this woman's struggles.
I have almost been there.  It is a very scary feeling when you know that you and your children might not have a place to sleep.

I might joke around a lot, talk about sex, and be silly most of the time, but I have struggled.  I've been on every government assistance you can think of at some point or another.  I have not known where my next meal would come from.  I have picked through change just to have enough gas to get to work.  I have stolen.  I have run scams.  I have sold things that were precious to me.  These are things people do when they are desperate.  These are things that people do when they are in a relationship with an abusive drug addict.  These are things I don't talk about, but should.  Luckily, I have finally come to a good point in my life. And I say luckily because sometimes I think it has been just luck getting me through. I have a great home, a great job, and I am stable now.  I may not have a lot, but I have enough...and I am thankful.

I had a great conversation tonight with someone (we'll call him "T" and no, he's not a romantic love interest) about hard journeys and realizing that they can be beautiful because of who they make you as a person.  It was meaningful.  Somehow, I think T was supposed to come into my life at this moment.  I am a firm believer in fate.  We talked about how neither one of us would go back and change anything that has happened in our life because it made us who we are now.  It's the truth.  He also brought up another great point during our conversation.  He said he was afraid to love again.  That is a real man who can admit that, not only to himself, but to someone else.  It made me think.  Honestly, it made me psycho-analyze myself like I tend to do.  Could I also be afraid to love again?  Absolutely.  When the last person that you loved hurts you...mentally, verbally, and physically for ten years...how is it not scary to love again?  I have a concrete wall around me that is virtually impossible to break down.  People chip away at it, but I don't know if it will ever actually be gone.  And just to get a little deeper into my psyche, my fear of being hurt is probably why I tend to date men who are not technically available.  No commitment, no love, no heartbreak.

It's time to stop that way of thinking.  After all, just like T says...it's the hard journeys that are the most beautiful.  Time to hold out and find that person that will love me back the way I deserve.  I am not a temporary fix to make men feel better about themselves.  I am worth more than a phone call at midnight asking to come over.  I am more than a secret to be kept.  I do deserve love and that person (whomever it is) has no idea the love that I am capable of giving back to them.  Because I will be thankful.