The Dreams That Disappoint

The Setup.. It’s our first date, some months in the future after we’ve managed to run into each other several times at several different events, he finally asks me out. We decide to play some mini-golf.

It’s around the second to last hole, that conversation becomes strained. Neither of us is talking which is highly unusual.

I am stressing myself out about it. I actually like that I feel relaxed enough around Pierce that I can be quiet, but I’m afraid he’ll see me as boring or worse that I’m bored with him. Finally he speaks.

“You’re being awfully quiet.” He jokes with a big smile on his face.

Its impossible not to catch his smile, and so I grin back at him.

“I’m sorry, I’m a bit preoccupied.” I try to hide the slight embarassed blush that I know is creeping along my face.

“Mini-golf isn’t that challenging, so what’s got your tongue? Is it work?” He’s genuinely concerned and wanting to help with whatever is the problem, but also seeing the blush, he’s curious.

“No no… work is fine.” I say as I hold my putter judging just where to stand and how hard to hit the ball. “I’m just preoccupied with this problem I’m trying to figure out how to solve.”

“Oh? Maybe I can help.”

I laugh, “I’m sure you can” and shoot him a look with a clear glint in my eye and mischevous smile.

“Well, tell me then.” He’s now much less concerned, and much much more curious.

“Well, see my mind is completely preoccupied with wanting to kiss you. And not quite sure how to solve it.”

He snickers slightly, “Hmm that is a problem. But I am quite sure it is solveable. Though I don’t really see much problem in it.”

“Well, see for starters, its quite impossible to do with you being over there.” I say as I adjust my stance again, pretending to be concentrating on my shot.. but if I’d have been pretending to read a book, the book would have been upside down for all the true attention I was paying to what I was doing.

Pierce then walks over to me, and stands very close in front of me. His left leg on the right side of my putter, his right leg on the left side of my putter, and my hands just barely a half inch away from his crotch as I held my putter.

I looked up at him and met his gaze. Having him so close made my pulse go all haywire. I was excited, scared, and wanting to run.. but immobile.

“There. Does that solve the problem for you then?” He said with a sly grin teasing me as his face was now just inches from mine.

“Well yes that does make it much much more possible. But I didn’t really tell you the real problem.”

“Oh?” He raised one eyebrow in curiousity.

I look into his eyes to deliver my confession, “See, what I really want is for you to kiss me..” which I barely get out before his hand moves up and lightly brushes my cheek on its way to the back of my neck. His fingers planted themselves at the back of my neck gently pulling me forward, while his thumb pressed just lightly under my jawbone to direct my face up leaving my lips easily accessible.

Then his lips possessed mine in a light caress that deepened to restrained desire.

The kiss stopped as abruptly as it began, and it affected us both equally. There was a brief moment of mutual silence as we regained our proverbial footing.

“So, did that solve the problem?” He teased playfully as he removed his hand from my neck.

“No.. not really” I replied as I let go of my putter and wrapped my arms around his neck pulling him in for another kiss. He wrapped his arms around me, and we kissed the kind of kiss that parents shield their kids from viewing. The kind of kiss that if it was feasible would allow clothes to fly off with a single thought.

This time it was I who ended the kiss abruptly. Moved my hands back to my putter, and said…

“Ok, I’m good now… Hmm you’re in a compromising position, you might want to move before I putt”

I pretended to be all about golf, and giggled when he grumbled slightly as he realized our makeout session was over.

But as our eyes met after my shot, one look confirmed.. the only thing between us and being naked.. was golf.

We quickly finished the last hole, and went to his place. We drive separately, and he’s waiting outside for me when I drive up. We embrace, kiss, and don’t really stop until we’re finally inside.

Things start to get fuzzy around this part.. but I remember running my hands down his chest and then sliding his shirt up over his head.. (and there.. hot and bothered.. it ends).

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The Dream Genie Sucks

Sorry I’ve been AWOL lately. I’m still attempting to do this on my psychotic laptop, as well as start a business, do business plans, and the mirade of other crapola that goes along with it. I’m just hoping like hell that this venture takes off. Crossing fingers.. and maybe toes… if it does like it seems its going to.. I’ll be busy buying my dream computer. Right now weighting if that would be an investment or a luxury.

But back to men.. and dating… and me being a little crazy.

I’ve been having dreams lately. Those sexy dreams.. the ones where you start picturing them naked, and thinking of all the things you want to do with them. Yeah those dreams.

And.. Pierce has been making a regular appearance. Which means I do (damn it) like him… but it also is problematic.

See.. my body/brain knows I like him. There’s still that odd hope of “this might be something”.. which means until its really something, until I’ve actually seen him naked or until I’ve completely ruled him out as a possibility.. My mind refuses to actually undress him or imagine much of anything that isn’t readily seen… aka I’ve pictured his bare chest, because the last time I saw him his tshirt was so “fitted” that there was little left to the imagination.

So while my dreams start off sexy, and you know darn good and well that they’re headed to Nakedtown, they never actually make it there.

Last night, I had this fantastic dream (which I might write up later) setting Pierce and I up for a very hot romp.. and then when it came to the hot romp itself.. The dream would die, or start over at the begining.. it did end up going to a sex romp later, but it wasn’t with Pierce, just some nameless faceless guy. *sigh*

Even my dreams won’t give me satisfaction. This sucks.

Wishfully Wrong

I may have been wrong.

Maybe.

It’s really hard to say because I am so very often right (really I’m not full of myself or anything), so this is completely new to me… its really hard to say.

But ..

He thought of me today.

It wasn’t one of those “Hey sweety, I was thinking of you” sort of messages. But he saw something that reminded him of a conversation we had, and sent me a link to update me on it. Aka “Saw this, thought you’d find it interesting [link to article about what we’d talked about]”

Guys.. if you really want to win a girl.. and have a relationship.. shit like that will get you everywhere.

Remembering random things that she’s said from previous conversations.. for example this particular thing was from a conversation that happened about a week ago… and giving her more information on that topic or asking her input on a link about that subject..

If she likes you at all.. she’s going to swoon. It shows that you do listen to her, but not only that.. you listened to the point that when you saw that topic again, you not only had a passing thought of her, but had a strong enough thought of her to go out of your way to tell her about the topic or inform her on something you thought she might care about based on that conversation.

So.. right now I’m swooning a bit. Ok, I’m swooning a lot.

So.. maybe I was wrong.. maybe he does like me?

Or maybe he just really happened across something, and figured as a friend I needed to know?

I’m just going to go with… he likes me. Because a little delusional hopeful thinking never hurt anyone.. right?

Plus.. I rock. How could he not?

Indulging My Inner Sadist

There is one day a month where I am quite clearly not normal. On this lovely day, I have a huge undercurrent of angry. I might be able to smile and put on a good show, but more than likely if you hit any of my buttons, I will attempt to take your head off and put it in my pocket as a souvenir.

Every girl has this day.. some have more than one.. some have a week.. some have just a couple hours.. but every girl has this day.

Where the pain only subsides with doses of medication. The hormones run free like the niagra falls. And men suddenly lose their humanity and become beings to enslave and torture.

Or that could just be me.

I have one day a month where I get mentally violent. If I had no will-power, no conscience, no ethics, no religious belief, no rationality, and no fear of being locked away… this one day a month, people would die, people would be tortured and maimed.. it would be carnage.. carnage everywhere!

Ok maybe not everywhere.. I’m generally in enough pain that moving outside of my bedroom for the first few hours takes an act of God. So probably would just be carnage in the bedroom.

Fortunately for us all, I do have powerful doses of empathy, rationality, and conscience. As such I keep murderous and sadistic tendancies to my imagination.

Thus I am mentally violent. This sometimes comes out in my writing as violent wording and sometimes plain threats of violence as well. I also tend to love to say “Bastard” and “Asshole” about everything and anything that may go wrong.

If you’re a man in a relationship with me, trust me.. that one day a month is spent picturing myself sadistically torturing your privates so you get to feel like I do once a month. I probably won’t tell you that, because it’ll scare the crap out of you and make you want to alert the FBI to watch my place for furture murders.

While I say a day.. its generally just 6 hours.

During these 6 hours, I will be bitchy. I will push people away. I will hermit. If you’re sweet, you’ll want to help me by bringing me things or getting me some pills.. and while I’ll secretly love it, I will also grumble and quite likely to tell you to F off.

This is for your own safety. Remember, I am likely picturing myself kicking you in the balls despite the fact that I may love you or care for you deeply. It is because of that that I will want you far far away from me.. so I don’t actually kick you in the balls.

(Because when all this is over, I’ll still want you to come around… and I’ll be happy that I didn’t maim you.)

I will also give you a heads up warning.. “Hey honey, its started.” You will learn these words are a signal to make yourself scarce. At first, you’ll try..but eventually you’ll just start running. I won’t blame you for that. However, you will share half the blame for anything that occurs if you stay around.

You were warned after all.

So if you want to avoid being maimed and tortured, run away and then send flowers from wherever you are. I’ll text you when its safe to return.. I mean if I want you to come back. 😉

Where Did I Put My Time Machine?

I really don’t think I fit in. I must have been born at the wrong time, or have some kind of brain tumor.

All the girls that I meet that are my age. Scare the crap out of me.

If I go about 5 yrs older, I seem to fare better.. but going about 7 yrs younger is about right.. or the closest I’ve seen.

The girls I meet that are my age are either married and pretty cool. Though their tastes in music, activities, and what they find attractive in men is often completely different from me.

The single gals my age that I’m meeting though.. are complete nightmares. Ok, one or two exceptions, but most of then scare the crap out of me.

I obviously missed the sex-attraction of the Bon Jovi and Guns-n-Roses craze. Tall skinny assed white boys with long scraggly hair is so much the opposite of anything I find attractive, yet most of the girls I’m meeting my age still find this look hot. (To me, Bon Jovi didn’t get hot until he cut his hair.. and then I reacted with “OMG he really is a man.”)

I suppose I should be happy that their tastes lie outside of my interest range, but it makes it hard to find things in common. As I’ve mentioned previously, I can’t do hair band music on a regular basis, nor can I do long periods of “classic 70’s rock”… both after a while (much shorter time span on the 70’s rock btw) make me wish I was on something to endure it. And since I don’t do drugs.. its not that fun.

But I keep trying. I keep thinking that there has to be at least one other woman my age who likes the stuff I like and isn’t way damn crazy.

This really shouldn’t be a shock to me. Since I grew up in a small town with anti-social parents, and went to a church regularly which no one in town went to… I was pretty isolated. Other than the close neighbors (one boy my age), every kid I knew or hung out with outside of school was about 4 years older than me or 4 years younger than me (my church had no one within 4 years of my age either direction). I never really did connect much with the kids in my class.

So maybe its just habit of always being thrown in with an older crowd or a much younger crowd? Maybe its just been too many years of being independent and doing my own thing?

I suppose while others were watching men grow their hair out and jamming to their hair band music.. I was watching Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers black and whites on PBS. Or specials with Sammy Davis Jr, Sinatra, and their like.

You put a well groomed, clean shaven, smart short cut haired man into a suit or tux, and you’ve caught my eye. If he can also dance like Astaire or Gene Kelly, I’m swooning. If he can also croon a good tune, I’m completely smitten and will stalk him for the rest of his life.

Which is probably why I have a pretty good crush on Matthew Morrison (Glee). (He’s probably gay though.. if he’s not, there’s probably a line acround the corner of women trying to catch him and I’m a little too lazy for that. I’ll see if I can’t find someone like him who is “undiscovered’ instead.)

Speaking of “Undiscovered”.. one of my favorite albums.. Undiscovered by James Morrison. Luv luv luv. (see… no ADD here at all!)

But back to the point.. Finding women my age who like this kind of music.. is hard. Sadly its just as difficult to find men my age that have similar tastes.. Or maybe its just my luck I’m not finding them?

Or I might just be a transplant from another era… lost in this time..

Crazies Come Out At Night

Last night was crazy. As usual all my important events all happen to be scheduled at the same exact time.

My Flirting Group.

A huge networking event

A new writers group “sit down and write” meeting (which obviously I need)

The FED – Swing Dancing

Lets not even mention all the friend’s happy hour invites, movie invites, and other more extraneous activities. Though I suppose the FED is kinda extraneous, but I kinda absentmindedly insinuated that I’d show up this week.

I needed to go to the top 3 events. I only actually made it to two, and even that was crazy.  I went to the flirting group mostly because I wanted to reconnect with the organizer for it. One day he’s going to be a multi-millionaire, and I’ll probably still need a job. Plus we both kinda love behavioral sciences. If it was legal/possible to stick humans in jars and watch what they did… we’d be doing it… though neither of us is really a scientist. We’re just both kinda crazy.. in mostly good ways (depending on who you talk to.)

Anyway, I arrive at the Flirting group and I get to talk to the organizer a bit. He’s been trying to reconnect with me (professionally – networking.. the guy is a newly wed), so we got a good chat in while everyone else did the flirting exercises. I thought about staying and flirting myself, but honestly looking at the men present.. I figured I’d have better luck next door at the networking event.  (aka out of the 3 guys that showed up, only one of them was .. er.. acceptable appearance-wise, and he seemed about as into me as day old fish.)

However, my organizer friend did mention some kind of millionaires group in town that throws parties. Evidently its 4 men to every women, and he said I’d “clean up” there and that it’d be like shooting fish in a barrel. So I’ll be looking out for those. 😉  I mean.. millionaires for the taking? Who wouldn’t?

Then I headed over to my networking party. I walk in. Anxiety. Its wall to wall people and there’s a line to get in. They’re doing nametags, AND the people at the nametag table are writing out the name tags for the people. Meaning EVERY SINGLE PERSON is attempting to spell out their name for the person writing the name down.  WTF?

This is not how these events normally go.. so when I got to the table and the girl asked my name.. pen ready to write out my name tag.. I kinda went a little nutz (inside, I tried to hide it). I felt like I was 2 and couldn’t write my name myself, so this nice lady had to do it for me. If I could have grabbed the damn nametag from her and written it myself I would have. Instead, I asked nicely if I could write it.  She balked a bit, but handed me the nametag while telling me that the person next to her needed to also know my name to write it on the sign-in sheet. I had this strange creepy sensation as if I was suddenly not at a networking event but at some kind of military camp with alcohol.

I shook it off, and ran to find people I knew.  It wasn’t too hard as about every 5 steps I ran into someone I knew from some place or another. Said hi in my awkward.. “I have nothing interesting to say” way, and yet somehow found something to say anyway. Hopefully it was interesting whatever it was I did say, though I fear it was not.

I had a good time though.. flirting with very happily married male friends.. and attempting to find an attractive looking single male.  Which for some reason is getting harder and harder at these events, as every good looking man at these events it seems is gay. Seriously. I’m not joking.

Though I did get to see Pierce again. Now, I’ve mentioned once before that I’d kinda had a thing for him since the first time I met him, and that we flirt.. but I have no idea if he’s interested or not.  After last night, I’m going to say .. not interested.

He was looking extra fantastic though. It was like suddenly he went from the uber-geeky guy to uber-hot guy.  He had on this clingy fitted t-shirt. Normally I just assume geeky guys are rather non-muscular and well.. geeky figures..  No no.. Pierce is f’n ripped. I don’t know what kind of canned spinach he’s been eating or what kind of toxic spill he slipped into or what.. but DAAAAAAAAAAMMMN he was looking good.  I almost forgot how to talk to him as I was busy staring. I’m pretty sure my mouth fell open and dragged on the floor a couple times as well.

It is not fair. Brainy. Fun. Great personality. And f’n hot?  Sorry but I’m quite sure that’s illegal.

Anyway, towards the end of the night, I found him again (I’d done some mingling and came back) and we chatted for a while. He excused himself to use the facilities, said he’d be right back.. in a way that made it sound like he was reassuring me (soo not a good sign).. only never to return.  I did see him come out of the restroom, and look in my direction.. but he didn’t come over.

Ah well..

I found myself exhausted by that point anyway.. too much social time and too little food. I’d kinda forgotten to eat all day until right before I had to leave, in which I didn’t really have time to eat then. So I headed home to make myself a big assed plate of food.

On my way to my car though, I pass by Katz Diner. Suddenly I hear thudding on the window of the diner and two guys looking at me and waving exstaticly for me to come in.  WTF? I went in.. mostly out of curiousity about what drugs these guys were on.. but partly because I vaguely recognized one of the guy’s faces. They were both brown skinned and looked Indian.

What is with me attracting Indians?? Please someone tell me?

So I walk in. The host says, “Table for one?” and starts to grab a menu when I interupt him.

“No no.. I believe I was summoned by some strange guys that I don’t know. I’m sure I’ll be right back.” And I head into the dining room.

The host looks at me with “Oh thats what they were doing” relief and a bit of a “good luck” smile.

I get to their table, and ask “Do I know you?”

The one whose face I vague recall seeing before looks offended. The other guy is quick to invite me to sit down and introduces himself. For an Indian guy btw, the second guy is hot. He even had longish hair which I normally find revolting but on him it was fantastic.

Evidently, I’d met the first guy at one of the networking parties. Which one? I don’t recall. This is how long Indian men stay on my radar.. blip.. gone.

The guys are nice and welcoming. They try to convince me to stay and eat with them. They’re uber-sweet.. the creepy too sweet thing that it seems only Indian men can do really well to make you feel comfortable.. and yet those experienced with Indian men know that behind all that niceness is a very persistant “come home and fuck me”.  Both of them were fresh off the boat Indians, and since I had no intention of going home and fucking either one of them.. I left.

It was a funny picture though… two strange men excitedly pounding a window as I walked by in order to catch my attention.. Flattering.

Unfortunately that never happens with men I actually like.

My Meeting With The Playas

The other night I went out with Evie and a friend of hers. In all honesty, I went for the possibility of meeting someone, yet with the full expectation of being completely bored out of my mind. A group of 3 girls almost always leaves one as the third wheel, and since Evie’s friend and her were childhood friends, I fully expected to be the third wheel.

But I needed to go out, and nothing else that night sounded even remotely entertaining.

We went to a play and then the after-party. It was a small production with a small audience. It was ok. Some of the actors, you could tell were naturally talented and the rest were really trying to be. It was at least entertaining.

Then about 20 minutes from the end, I see Evie’s ex? I guess thats who he is. I can’t remember if they’d had sex or exactly what… But I do know that she’s at least seen his penis, and helped him get off. They’re “friends” now, but with Evie that could be FwB or just platonic friends. Its really hard to say.

Evie can’t go a night without a guy. During the show, she’d texted him to meet her there. So when I saw him come in.. I knew what had happened and I rolled my eyes.

It doesn’t help that I just cannot stand the guy. I avoid him like he’s got cooties. He comes off as needy and desperate. And I’ve got the feeling that any woman will do for him as long as she’s mildly attractive (not hideous), and not illegal. (I guess I should be thankful he has some standards huh?)

Plus.. from Evie, I know WAY more that I ever wanted to about his sexual interests and erm.. proclivities. If I wasn’t interested by the fact that he looks like a doofus, or by the fact that he acts like he’s only out for getting laid and desperately at that, then his sexual preferences alone would have sealed the deal for me that I wasn’t going to touch him with a 10 foot pole.

After the show was over, and while we waited for the after-party to start, I found out that Trey had brought two friends with him.

Techincally he brought one friend, who brought his friend.. but thats just me nitpicking.

So we’re standing around, and these two guys join our group. I of course wonder who they are, and Evie introduces them.

I honestly don’t remember their names. So I’m gunna make up some names.

The first one was chatty, but from the moment he opened his mouth, my lady parts shuddered and recoiled. Jessie’s voice was a little .. umm.. too high and he talked with just a slight lisp. Had he not talked about screwing women, I would have sworn he was gay. He was around my height, but with delicate bone structure. His wrists were even dainty. The thought of him having sex with a woman quite frankly made me giggle… a lot.

He talked as if he was Mr. MacDaddy which wasn’t helping the situation any. Maybe he does get all the girls. Who knows.. I just find it immensely unbelievable. To be honest, I found the idea of him and Trey being secret lovers much much more believable.

The third guy, Bill, was shy and completely did not fit with the other two. He was new to town, so I excused his judgement in friends. He had long hair and was Native American. He actually was kind of sweet, but way too young. That didn’t keep him from attempting to hit on me though. So cute, in an adorable little boy way (I know.. just the way guys hope to be seen right?), but about an hour or so later he admitted his age and he was barely legal. WAY too young for me, and thus I was right in thinking of him as a little boy.

So none of them were at all.. in any way.. potential interests of mine. This actually made the night more fun, because they ALL thought that I’d be happy to have them.

Dear Men… I am not that desperate.. and will never be that desperate.. Sorry.

So the party got started, and people started going back inside. It was hot inside. Like sauna hot. I went in to be social for a bit, but found my way outside rather quickly. The last thing I needed was to be miserable on top of this potential boredom.

A few minutes later, one guy after the other came outside as well. Soon it was myself and the three guys.

We began to talk. Jessie kept giving the youngin’ Bill some MacDaddy advice, which I would then critique and tell him how to do it better. Then Jessie saw that as a sign to out do himself. It became this challenge to show me how much of a MacDaddy he was. I couldn’t have secretly laughed at him more. At one point he said:

“I shouldn’t tell you because you’ll hate me.”

To which I replied, “If I don’t hate you by now, I’m pretty sure there’s nothing you can come up with.”

He stammered and still pretended to be all gentlemanly in refusing to divulge his scoundrel secrets in my presence.

“Ok.. by hate you.. what did you mean by that?”

Jessie turned red, and so I continued…

“If you mean by hate you, that I would no longer want to have sex with you.. let me put your mind at ease.. that ship sailed within the first minutes of meeting you. So just say what you were going to say.”

He looked at me agast, and then did his best to recover. He tried to ask what it was that turned me off, but I simply brushed him off with a “Eh, you’re not my type.” (Rather than telling him that he reminded me of some gay friends from college.) He retorted with a “Oh well at least we’re on the same page.” which made me laugh.

Yes yes… I can be a bitch, but I honestly cared not at all what this guy or his friends thought of me.

So he continues about his rules for “dating” which were quite frankly steps to have a one night stand. He did pretty much every cliche’ without actually mentioning roofies, though he did mention that getting a girl completely plowed so she’d not remember how to get back to his place later. I know.. a charmer. I of course added rules for him, and instead told him that he should just go to her place. No one can say I’m not helpful. 🙂

If I’m not interested in dating you, and I’m pretty sure you’re harmless (or at least that even the smallest woman could kick your ass), I’m more than willing to share my knowledge to help you get laid.. by someone else. 🙂 Its just how I roll.

Bill however was really enjoying the conversation and cursing that he had no way to take notes. The poor guy. In reality all Bill would have to do to get laid is to hang out with these two morons he was with, then go appologize to the girls later and state that he was new to town. He was sweet, honest, and not bad looking.. and following the wake of the other two guys, he’d look like the catch of the day.

Trey however was not liking the conversation. He instead was trying desperately to convince me that his playboy past was over (like I really believed he had a playboy past), and he was now looking for a real relationship. He was not grasping the idea that I could have cared less about what he was looking for.. I was not interested.. yet he continually tried to impress me with his “seeking a relationship” self.

When we began to discuss ages.. Trey started it by saying he was 40 (he looks maybe 34) and how 30 was the new 20 for him. The others also stated their ages, and then came my turn, which I declined. They were 19, 31, and 40.. and I just let them believe whatever age they thought I was. Generally I’m assumed to be in my late 20’s or early 30’s, so I figure they thought I was.

Then Trey began commenting on the music that was wafting outside from the party.

“I used to skate to this back in ’78”

Which we all would tease him about making himself sound ancient. Heck I’m not much younger than him, and even I thought he sounded old the things he was saying.

It was one “I’m old” statement after anouther which kept me entertained by teasing him about how old he was making himself sound and “Thats the way to win the Ladies, man.” sarcasm. I honestly don’t think he understood just exactly how off-putting his “remember when” was, or would be to younger women.. when their parents would be the ones saying those “remember whens”.

We were outside talking for a couple hours before the other two girls came out, and we all parted ways.

All in all it was a good night.. Lots of fun (for me anyway.)

The Good Fight

There is nothing like a good fight. Ok… arguement.. discussion.. whatever you want to call it when two people disagree, voice it, and come to a resolution.. hopefully without killing each other or causing undue bodily or emotional/mental harm.

I like a good arguement. Not all the time. Not every day. But when the time it is right, the subject is right, then yes.. a good arguement.

I’ve always known the importance of disagreement. Partly from my parents who when I was a child disagreed often and probably more so than was healthy.  But they worked it out, and this is eventually what I took away from it.

Then came the ex.. He disagreed on nothing. A few times he’d disagree, and I’d start to get into my arguing mode producing my evidence for my stance, and he’d back down. I assumed (wrongly) that because he did so.. that the subject was not important or that I’d turned him to agree with me.

What I didn’t know.. and didn’t understand.. is that while I understood good arguements and resolution.. He didn’t.

While I love his father.. it wasn’t until way late in the marriage when I realized that it was his father who taught him this.  His father taught him to back down to any confrontation from a woman. If she said it.. she got her way. Period. (Partly this is because his mother is a lunatic..)

So I was left most of the marriage trying to get out of my ex what it was that he wanted. I tried coaxing it out of him. I tried giving him options of compromises that I’d agree to.. to which he merely let me do whatever it was I wanted.. all the while myself knowing that he had an opinion he just didn’t want to share it.

He refused to tell me things that might possibly in some way of any kind.. upset me.  Sometimes these were minor things.. he’d broken a glass.. and sometimes these were major things.. the company was downsizing or there was something wrong with his health.

To most people.. he’d be considered a nice guy.. to me, he was a doormat. Passive-aggressive. His way of dealing (by not dealing) caused me more stress than anything. I worried. I fretted. I nearly drove myself crazy trying to get answers out of him.

Then I gave up. Really. He said it was ok to get whatever curtains I wanted. I would. I stopped consulting him on things. I did whatever I wanted. He did whatever he wanted. We had our routine and stuck to that. I pretended not to care.. until I really didn’t anymore.

Probably needless to say that we drifted apart. The thing is.. the relationship probably could have been salvaged.. if only we’d had that fight. We had the anger anyway. We had the resentment. We just never had the resolution.

Since then, I’ve noticed how that has changed me. Downside: I don’t press people for anything anymore (which often means I don’t ask anyone any questions and it can look like I don’t care). Upside: If someone doesn’t answer me, or doesn’t want to talk to me.. I move on without care to someone who does.

But I also find myself really liking a good argument (not a forced argument.. don’t be silly and try to make a fight) where both viewpoints are expressed.. I find myself respecting the other person a whole ton.. and sometimes finding them sexy where before I did not.

Its not about arguing for arguement’s sake.. its about the freedom to express yourself and your partner feeling free to express themselves.. its not about the conflict.. its about your ability to have it and still come to a resolution.

Its not the fight.. its the making up.  Its about honesty. Its about trust. Its about making sure you’re both on the same path… Together.

The Lure Of Good Music

The other night I decided it would be a good night to go out and Getty had a band that she wanted to go see.

She told me the band was a blues band and that they were good. I like the blues. I like jazz. I like some big band, some country, some rock, some hip hop, some of just about everything. I’m kinda picky in what I like, but I’m not a genre-snob per se.. I just like specific things within those genres.

So when she said blues… I scanned my brain of all the varieties of blues it could be. Knowing her, I knew it wouldn’t be country blues. She’s a rock girl. But I thought it might be some kind of really good blues music. Getty talks often about how she knows music.

So we go. She comes to pick me up so we can carpool. On the drive down there, she’s bitching about this that and the other thing. Mentally, I’m hoping like hell the band is worth it.

The band is downtown. It’s 9pm. There isn’t even a small hope of finding free parking at that time of night.. yet Getty goes on a tirade about what a rip-off these paid parking lot things are. I don’t even waste my time trying to explain it to her, as I know her and anything I say will only prolong the tirade.

We drive around for what seems like ages since she wants to find a free parking space. (Financially there’s no reason for this btw, and we waste half the price of parking in gas)

I finally start to lose my temper. She’s never seen me lose my temper. Most people haven’t. So I start raising my voice telling her to just park already.

“Ok fine, where do you want me to park?” She’s huffy and frustrated.. still venting about the scam that paid parking is.

“I already told you. The small lot across the street.”

My words might have been mild.. but when I get pissed.. I talk slow. I enunciate. I clip my words. That I was at the breaking point.. was made quite clear.

We finally park, and she gives the guy a hard time.. basically telling him that he has an easy job and is robbing people blind… without actually saying that.

I want to crawl into a hole. Then she has no cash to pay the guy. So I pull out some cash and pay the guy.

We get to the bar, and there’s a cover. Something she failed to mention.. and I failed to ask her about ahead of time. Its just $5, so not a big loss even if the band sucks. But again, she has no cash, so I give the guy the rest of mine and pay for us both.

She agrees to buy me liquor to pay me back. Which she does.. Thank God.

I would not have made it the rest of the night without some kind of alcohol.

The band gets up to play. Two bald guys and a guy who is making up for them by having hair reminiscent of the Hair Band days. (I really dislike long hair on most men in case anyone wants to know.)

Then they start playing. Its not bad music. I’m not wanting to put in ear plugs or anything, but its not blues.

I tell Getty..

“This is not blues.”

“Well thats what the guy brands himself as.. It has its roots in blues.”

“It might have roots in blues.. hell everything has roots in blues.. but this is not the blues.”

She is unphased and turns back to the band. She believes they are awesome. I am bored out of my mind.

Its this kind of band that I avoid. Their music was.. can you guess?.. a blend of Hair Band sound.. with 70’s rock.

Lots of guitar.. lots of guitar solos that lasted way too long unless you were on something.. lots of just boring. While I get that people like to show how talented they are at an instrument, if you’re not doing it for a reason other than that.. ie evoke some kind of emotion.. its all just boring show. If you are trying to evoke some emotion.. and fail.. its also equally boring.

The lyrics weren’t even blues. The songs were happy happy songs. There was no pining for a lost love or even mourning a dead loved one… it was all just happy songs.. with no Heartbreak Hotel.

I couldn’t have been more bored and decieved had she told me we were going to see a great new band.. and taken me to LC Rocks (a cover band for old Hair Band tunes, complete with outfits and the hair).

This is one of the reasons that I avoid any one (potential male dates) who says they are a huge music buff or really love music. The chances of us liking the same music is close to ZERO, and if they’re really a music addict.. we’re going to fight about them playing their horrid choice in music all the time.

In HS, I liked some of the popular music of the day… I kinda had to in order to be even remotely social with people my age.. But left to my own devices, instead of Hair Bands.. I was swooning over Harry Connick Jr. I studied Bette Midler (I was a singer back then, and worked to mimic her voice).

Even now, I find myself more drawn tword music with great singers, great lyrics, and things that are fun to sing to..

I grew up with music. From the time I could speak, I was singing on stage (in church) with my sisters. When the quartet broke up, I sang solos. We all learned the piano, plus one other instrument of our choice(ish). My father would play the accordion at home sometimes and we’d all sing along. For holidays, or sometimes at my father’s request, one of my sisters would play the piano while we sang along. (While I learned instruments, I really can’t play any very well.)

So in many ways, music is important to me. But most likely… not the music that others like… Let alone a musician who thinks he’s great… only to find out that to my ears its like cats fighting. I’m honest if I think you suck (I do not hide it well), and many “artists” can’t deal with that… nor should they really.

It honestly has been rare for me to find a mate who likes the music I do.. let alone plays an instrument in that kind of music. It has happened.. very rare.. and it was very sad to loose that compatibility when we broke up.

I’m sure to some.. my choice in music is horrific as well. I just inevitably keep meeting people who have never managed to get over and move on from the music they heard in HS… once in a while that nostalgia is fun.. but its 2010 now.. surely there is something someone has managed to do better or at the very least just as good.

I like to grow, learn, and widen my horizons… for me that also includes my tastes in music… well to a point anyway. 🙂

(for more on my tastes in music.. though not all inclusive.. but stuff that gets stuck in my head.. follow me on Blip.fm)

Going Back In Time

This weekend has been full of nostalgic activities.. its actually been a couple weeks now of nostalgia if you count my trip back to the “homeland”.

I relaxed and read a book. I had to think hard to recall the last book I read. I was going to say that it was years ago.. but then I remembered I read the Twilight series.. which was my last fun reading before now. Last fall I vaguely recall torturing myself with Frankenstien (Mary Shelley) because I felt obligated to host a book club meeting for a friend.

As a child, I used to read all the time. It was the one thing I could do on my own (I was allowed to go to the library by myself – small town) as often as I wanted, without getting yelled at by my mother. I remember reading the entire series of the Hardy Boys in one summer. This in the days before reading programs. I’d have rocked a summer reading program. Even up until HS, I always had a book I was reading.

I like reading books in one sitting. I am not so happy (understatement) about having to put up a book to do something else before I’m finished reading it. I’ve also been known not to answer phone calls or text messages when I’m in the middle of a book. Funny enough my best friend is the same way, though she’ll answer you she’ll just be massively rude until you hang up and let her back at her book.

I read “Odd Thomas” which has been sitting on my To-Do Reading List for so long that I had to dust it off to read it. It was a good read, but most of all… it was just good to finish a book. I love that feeling. Finishing a Book.

Once the book was finished.. I debating what else to do. There’s nothing currently on TV and I’m way too broke to actually do anything.

Anyway, one thing lead to another.. I blame Holly actually, since she’d mentioned it the night previous to me starting again..

I logged into my MUD.

For those of you unaware of any kind of internet prior to 1998 or so.. Way back when, there used to be a method of internet use that wasn’t web based. People used to connect directly to other peoples computers or host computers to get their information, chat, meet others.. they used a now little known method called Telnet. Through Telnet, which is entirely 100% text and text graphics, there were “worlds” you could visit if you only knew where to go. Some were games. Some were completely social. Some were raunchy. Some were pristine. If you searched long enough, you could find one that fit you.

MUDs were just one of the Telnet activities and the one that I adhered to most. MUDs are games. Comparibly a text-based ancient version of World of Warcraft. Some MUDs you got to choose what kind of being you were.. elves, gremlins, warlocks, vampires, fairy, ewok, humanoid.. basically for any kind of creature/theme you wanted to play there was a game for it. Some were games that would allow you to kill other players and fight each other to gain levels, others were more peaceful games that encouraged people to join together to kill “monsters”.

In the good MUDs.. the ones that still to this day are running.. they built community. Not only would people play together online, but they’d play together long enough that they’d become friends and want to meet outside the game.

This was what brought me in and got me addicted to my MUD.

Community.

In all honesty, what started me on this mud was a very very nice English guy who took me under his wing my first day and aquired for me all the tools I’d need to get started. He was strong and sexy, and I came back to that MUD for months just looking to find him again. I never did.

But while I was waiting in vain for him to show up, I met others in the game. I began to play and get to know this whole new world of people outside my prison of Nebraska. Months passed. Years passed.

From 1992.. til around 2000.. anyone who got even remotely close to me.. I tried to corrupt them by getting them also into the game. I managed to corrupt a few. 🙂

The game was its own society. It still is. My “fraternity” or “sorority” so to speak. Other than just playing a silly game, we all would meet together. Spend weekends out “camping” (our word for a tent, food, booze, and possibly sex). (I actually lost my virginity to someone I met on this game)

This community has massive amounts of smart people.. a few idiots.. a few crazies.. a few mean people.. a few super nice people.. but there is one thing we have in common.. We have each other’s backs against the outside world.

Like family, I can make fun of them all I damn well want to.. we can call each other names, hurt each other, help each other.. fight… make up.. whatever.. But if the outside world harms one of us, we’re all pretty much out for blood. Crazy or not.. friendly or not.. We protect our own.

Actually right now on my MUD, half of them are helping one of them fix their computer problem, while also giving advice on new products and what pitfalls to avoid.

It was something I’d forgotten in the last few years. My ex did not like the game or any of the people in the community really. So when I married him, I found myself drifting from it.

But I logged back in this weekend. Old faces (aka familiar text on a screen) were around and people just laughing and having fun. We’d chat about our days (kinda like people do on Twitter) and complain about mutual woes (why’d they change this in the game… why won’t they change that). I’d reconnected with a few old friends and it felt like I’d never left. Well.. with the exception that they’re now superhuman levels and I’m still where I was.. but honestly that wasn’t that unusual back then either.

So I’m back to being addicted to this game.. but its more than a game.. its my facebook before Facebook.. my twitter before Twitter.. its another world, where my family lives together… despite all of us being thousands of miles apart.

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