Drool

I'm in the market for a sugar daddy and I have learned what demands I must make in my next relationship: someone whose world revolves around me, takes me out to eat and buys me the things I drool over (see below). If you think you might qualify, please contact me.

Beautiful Red Shoes Pretty in Pink My Blue Suede Shoes Red Hot Green with Envy

A Plan...I Haz One

I'm a planner by nature, so when I don't have one, I freak out. My life lately has seemed like there is no plan, no organisation, no order. It's just a complete toss-up and we'll see what comes falling down. That's when unhappiness, sadness and boredom sets in. That's been my problem for the last few weeks.

I will admit, a lot of it stems from the fact that my significant other is leaving for LA soon and I haven't known what's going to happen. While things have not been 100% perfect, I still believe in his goodness, respectfulness and caringness. Sometimes we are product, or victim, of our circumstance. No excuses, just a reason. Neither of us have been at our best since we've known each other but we've been able to create some fun, happy memories together.

Yesterday, we both agreed that we would rather be close to each other, than attempt a long distance relationship that, at this point in our relationship, we are really not ready to make successful. And so, we decided to keep seeing each other as we have been and when he leaves, instead of attempting an ill-fated relationship destined to end up in things gradually trailing off and us not really speaking to each other, we would continue to build a close friendship. We both came to this same conclusion separately, but he voiced it first because it was important to him that we don't lose our closeness. I was very happy to know that I was important enough to him to ensure we continued to become close and not drift away. Even though that means a friendship instead of a different kind of relationship, it really means a lot that I'm worth enough to someone that they make an effort to make sure we don't drift apart. He wants me in his life. He told me he hopes that I still call him a lot and talk to him when I'm sad and when I'm happy, and he still wants us to visit each other. Did you all hear that? I'm wanted. Someone actually wants me.

I know it may seem rather pathetic and sad that I'm thrilled about this, but I've rarely felt this way in my life so I am celebrating the moment. Some people may think the worst about this situation and think it's the easy way out for him, but keep your thoughts to yourself and don't ruin my small victory in life.

So, that's been planned. We finally have a plan for when he leaves. The rest of my plan includes making new friends and spending more time with old friends that have been offering a lot of support and understanding lately, but perhaps I've not spent a lot of time with. I've already started making new friends. From the people in my volunteer leadership group to my new neighbour across the street, to the international student that I met randomly.

After I find out about the job that I'm waiting to hear from (any day now!), I'll decide what further plans I need to make. If I get the job, my plan is to save more and travel more this year. If I don't get the job, I intend to try to find an international job and I have some good ideas lined up. Also, I want to pare down my belongings and simplify my life so that I actually wear all the clothes I have (don't ask me to give up any shoes though) and so that it's easier to keep things neat and tidy and clean...and, well, easier to move or store if need be. Also on this year's agenda is studying for the GRE and actually taking it, and applying for graduate school.

There you have it folks...the outline of a plan. Perhaps not as detailed as it could be, but I feel like I have a direction and that's always good.

And now, my plan for this afternoon: make mac 'n cheese!

I'm Sorry

I'm sorry that I haven't been the best that I could be lately.

I'm sorry that two really bad weeks of feeling really, really depressed and scared of when you leave has been making me a miserable mess.

I'm sorry I have constantly been needing your reassurance that I'm normal and okay, because I haven't felt like it.

I'm sorry that feeling like an unproductive member of society with nothing to add to any friendship, conversation or anything else has caused me to lose a lot of my usual confidence.

I'm sorry my loss of confidence has let me lose confidence in us.

I'm sorry that the fact that you never take me out causes me to lose confidence in us.

I'm sorry that when I crash, I burn...and it's a a horrible mess that I want you to help me clean up.

I'm sorry that I expected you, and wanted you, to make me happy and whole again because you were the only thing that made me feel that way lately.

I'm sorry that I am not perfect and that I break down occasionally.

I'm sorry that my childhood fears of be unloved and unacceptable got in the way.

I'm sorry that if my love and affection and everything else I did for you weren't enough for you to overlook a week of terrible sadness and unhappiness. It wasn't you.

I'm sorry I just wasn't enough. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry you were leaving and we didn't have enough time to figure us out.

I'm sorry for every time I might have hurt your feelings and made you feel less than what you are.

I'm sorry for ever yelling at you; I'm sorry my passionate nature gets in the way.

I'm sorry that things weren't perfect and that it was my fault.

I'm sorry for anything, everything that made you want to walk away.

I'm sorry if I loved you too much or too little or just not the right way.

I'm sorry for worrying and thinking too much.

I'm sorry it isn't working for you any more.

I'm sorry I'm too intense for you; I warned you but maybe you didn't believe me.

I'm sorry my strong emotions scared you.

I'm truly, truly sorry for hurting you and not making you truly happy. It hurts me to know that I could hurt you or make you upset or sad or just not want to be with me.

I'm sorry I let go of all my inhibitions and let you see even the craziest side of me. I'm sorry it was too much for you.

I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say. It's just another failure in my book, failure to love someone enough that they can love me back. Proof of my imperfections and flaws, knowing they are always going to get in the way. Proof that I'm so broken that I'm unlovable. I try so hard, I do so much and feel like none of it's worth it at the end of the day. I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me for not being perfect for you and for trying to demand too much from you. I'm sorry.

Lone Star State

How do you know when you're so lonely that.... well... that... How do you know that you're so lonely that you become pathetic? Other than when someone tells you, that is.

One sure, clear sign is when you stay up until about 3am or later...and when you finally convince yourself that you should catch some z's, you sleep or stay in bed until you decide you're too hungry not to, or just really have to use the toilet.

A friendly bottle of Blue Sapphire helps lull you into that false sense of confidence that someone loves you. You confidently chat with old boyfriends, flirting a little, bringing back some of those familiar memories... Just happy that someone wants to talk to you. Until they ask you if you are lonely.

Before you fall asleep, you dream of those beautiful moments you have yet to experience in your life. A blissful, fun-filled 30th birthday party with 100+ of your closest friends. A marriage proposal. A walk down the aisle. When your sister lets you keep your niece for a week. Your 6 month old niece happily lulls in your arms, not knowing what a pathetically lonely loser you are.

You keep your phone close, but your cats closer as you watch the Food Network endlessly. You feel like laughing at the host of Boy Meets Grill or rolling your eyes at the perfectionista on Everyday Italian or the humour of Bobby Flay's Throwdown somehow is human interaction.

You wander aimlessly towards your refrigerator, stand in front of it and hope that something calls your name. Literally calls your name. So you can have a consversation.

You begin to wonder...whatever really happened to chat rooms? Are they still open at 12:49AM?

Scary movies are...just company.

When you become afraid to interact with friends or normal human beings for fear that you will come across as so....lonely that you will be able to do nothing but talk for 3 straight hours about everything you've been doing or thinking for the last 2 days...since you spoke to someone in person.

Refreshing Facebook statuses becomes a bi-minutely habit.

People say you have that "sad puppy dog" look when you first meet them. Or, the deer in the headlights look. Or, the sad, pathetic person look.

You actually start having real conversations with your cats. Before, it was just some random, "here kitty kitty" stuff and that, but now, it's like full blown conversations and you are absolutely certain that you can read their facial expressions as responses to your queries.

Life is lived in daydreams... inhabited by people who love you, talk to you, touch you, listen to you. Life, a dream where life at its best surrounds you. Where life is lived outside reality.

When Good Just Isn't Good Enough

Depression is merely anger without enthusiasm. Yes, indeed, it is.

I'm angry but I lack the enthusiasm to do anything about it. If I did, I would get rid of anything "good" in my life. What?! Why would I do that? Because good is not great.

A good relationship is that one that you settle for. He gets you through the day and he's a good guy, you tell your friends and yourself. He is good. But when you're at your lowest, at the worst you've ever been and seriously showing off your crazy, he avoids, ignores and is oblivious. Good doesn't get you what you really want: a relationship with the ultimate amount of security. So secure, you know you're destined for forever; so secure, you don't feel the need to get reassurance and proof of his commitment.

A good day is still a mediocre day. You just make it through. You get up, get a few things done and even send out thank you letters for your Christmas presents. Friends email, call, visit. It fills the empty space. The lonely, empty 24 hours that we call a day. You survive. 9-5. A good day is one where you get paid for what you do even thought you don't enjoy it. And that's all you dare to ask for. Good isn't what you're looking for: that job where you can change the world and make a difference.

A good outfit isn't the one that you wear when you are newly single, walk into anywhere and absolutely command the entire room. A good outfit will get you a few places but never the job of your dreams, the man of your dreams or the time of your life. Good isn't what you want: hot, sexy, competence, confidence all wrapping you up neatly in a perfect little package with a bright, shiny bow.

A good friend is just that: good. They listen, they talk, they go out with you. They'll tell you when you look good and won't necessarily poach the man you've been eyeing. Good isn't the best: the friend that calls you, knowing when you're feeling down; the friend that buys you groceries when you don't have much; the friend that sits in the silence with you when all you really need is just some good company and to know that she's got your back.

I've had a best friend, a the perfect outfit and an amazing day. It leaves my imagination to discover my heart's true desire: the man of my dreams and beautiful children who have our crazy personalities.

The reason I love my nieces so much is that I see so much of myself in them. My oldest niece is hilarious, funny and stubborn. My youngest niece has finer features and at five months, already an intense personality. They both have curly hair. I love them and miss them so much, mostly because I imagine that someday, my children (two girls and a boy) will be lively, independent, curious children with minds of their own, with a sense of self and purpose. They will laugh, be happy and be a little crazy with my laid back husband and me.

He will be my rock, solid and steady. Ready to tell me things are all going to be okay and when I feel a little crazy, hush me to sleep and reassure me that I'm pretty normal. He'll be there to laugh and goof off with pretty much all the time. And when life comes crashing down, he knows when I need to be picked up, dusted off and taken out in that perfect outfit. It won't bother him when I'm feeling clingy because he knows he's my safety, my comfy security blanket.

I've never been the girly-girl, imagining and planning my wedding since I was old enough to know what a wedding is. But I am ready to admit that what I want is to be standing, in the perfect outfit, on an amazing day, ready to walk down the aisle towards my best friend and marry the greatest man that ever lived: mine.

Drudgery Budgetry F**k, the Mouse is Sh** Outta Luck

Some damn little (fat) cat woke me up at 7:30am scratching on the bed like it was a nuclear emergency. She just wanted to be fed, but there it was, I indulged fat cat and I was wide awake, with only my thoughts to keep me warm.

The thing is, when you turn your heat off so you don't have to spend an inordinate amount (or any amount) of money on electric bills, if you sleep through the cold until say, 2 in the afternoon, you feel like you can maybe make it through the day, huddled on your couch under your electric blanket. You get nothing done, but you're warm. But when a fat cat wakes you up and 7:30am and you get out of bed, the bloody coldness wakes you up and you realise that on top of being freezing, you are in fact, starvingly hungry as well.

So I woke up cold and unhappy, all these thoughts running through my head (as per my usual) and came up with the lovely title of this blog post. I'm not normally this creative with my titles, as much as I think I really am or would like to be. It took my 5 whole minutes of barely awakeness to think of that clever title (which you should sing-song to Hickory Dickory Dock...if you didn't get it).

I was thinking about how I'm not going grocery shopping because a) I don't have a car right now and b) I'm tired of walking in 12 degree weather to get to the Kro-ghetto around the corner and c) groceries = less money in my pocket and I've been going out too much lately.

Then I just started thinking about how miserable I feel lately and how ready I am just to get back to work. I can't afford to keep heating my condo at $160/month but it's 12 effing degrees outside and if I don't turn the heat on, it's 42 in my place when I get up and I can't afford to have a pipe burst less than I can afford heat. I'm literally sitting here with my coat and scarf on. I go to bed fully clothed too. And now I'm hungry.

Being hungry is funny. I've probably gained 10 lbs in the last year and half since I lost my tonsils. I guess swallowing anything was never pleasant until my throat-choking tonsils were taken away. Now, apparently, not only have I discovered the pleasures of cooking with vast amounts of butter and cream, the pleasures of eating anything now that it doesn't feel like squeezing a monster truck down Parliament Street. But I look in my fridge and not only is there not anything all that appetizing (or really much at all) in it, I can't stop thinking how bloody cold it is, standing there with the fridge door open.

So now that I'm all nice and fattened up, I hope I will be losing these ubiquitous pounds, seeing as I can't stand to go grocery shopping for fear of spending money. Yes, please add chrometaphobia to my list of ailments.

When you have limited resources, you lose your options. It's water, or...well, water, if you want to drink anything at my house. No more juice. I just ran out out of creamer for my coffee which I cannot drink black. And that's suddenly when you start craving anything but water. My old regular Coca-Cola habit is rearing its ugly head, simply for the fact that this would constitute a want or a luxury, which I cannot indulge.

In addition to all this, I have not seen or spoken (aka texted) my man much in the last few days. I didn't even get a Happy New Year text while he was on a next to free trip to New Orleans for the sweet Sugar Bowl. I know his phone died because I forgot to give him the extra phone charger he keeps at my place. But. I miss him terribly and I just want to cuddle up next to him and feel safe, secure, happy and completely lost in the warmth and comfort he so often provides. I know I should be all patient and wait for him to recover from his drunken debauchery of the weekend and 24+ hours of driving in 4 days. And I can't even drive up to see him, seeing as I have no car at the moment. But I want someone to pay attention to ME for once, regardless of how they might feel. I'm tired of always being the patient, understanding one.

I want someone to truly understand (or try) what I'm going through and what goes through my head on a daily basis. I'm lucky that I've had enough money to survive this long, but I'm so tired of how hearing the heat running makes me anxious. I'm tired of thinking, oh, I want some juice...oh wait, I don't have any. Oh, wait, no car to go to the store. Oh, nevermind, it would cost me $3 to buy a thing of juice anyways. I just want some juice and not have to think about it!

I keep making lists of things I need, then I throw the list away because I can't pay for it or because it's actually a list of things I want, if I really think about it. A haircut and color would be nice. Creamer for my coffee. Juice. All purpose cleaner. Paper towels. New under-garments for my burgeoning body. Clothes for my burgeoning body. Milk.

Got milk? Be thankful.

Happy New Year!

Well friends, it's a new day and a new year. This year I leave my 20's behind and begin the glorious journey through my 30's. I'm not dreading my 30th birthday because I'm not married or because I haven't accomplished what I thought I would by this point in my life. Life has taken me down another path, through a different journey than I would have chosen, but I am happy with where I am and what I have been learning for the last 29 and almost 1/2 years. But there are things I do want to have done before my 31st birthday.

I recently found a journal entry from two years ago and it was a list of goals for myself. I realized I have accomplished most of those: started my MBA, I found myself, found a new job, bought a house, found love, left the past behind and keep moving forward... My last goal, I'm not sure if I can measure this: Embody intelligence, compassion, strength, maturity and grace. I will let those of you who know me judge that.

Well, it's time for a new list of goals for my 30th year. Here they are:

1. Live a simpler, less material life.
2. Get into graduate school.
3. Live healthier.
4. See the world.

I can only think of these four things that I really want to do (oh, and finding a job, but you know...). They are somewhat vague and not concrete. As a dear friend of mine tells me, when you set a goal, you also need to define how you will accomplish that goal.

1. Live a simpler, less material life. For me, this will involve getting rid of things I don't need and don't wear. Shopping less has already become part of my life, but when I find a job, I know that shopping for clothes is going to be one of the first things I want to do. But, I think I will enlist the help of a stylist to help me go throught my clothes and shop more strategically, so I always look my best, but not at a great expense.
2. Get into graduate school. Take the GRE. Research the schools I want to get into. Write essays. Apply.
3. Live healthier. Stop cooking with so much cream and butter! Learn to like veggies and eat more fruits. Work out regularly. Keep going to yoga. Learn to relax and not worry or stress out so much.
4. See the world. I've always dreamed of travelling the world. I've never thought I had the money to do it. And, I've been afraid to do it on my own. Maybe I will have a travel partner and maybe I won't, but I know there are tour groups and other options. God willing I will have a job soon and be able to start this.