...there's a buzz in my backside...

Our time is coming to an end

2011-12-09T19:04:00.001-08:00

I had lunch with "Meir" yesterday. It's weird to be platonic friends with him, but I think it's worth it to have him in my life. Though, I do recognize that it is doing harm to me (emotionally, spiritually). I like talking with him. We talked about politics, as usual. We talked about Gilad Shalit's return home. We talked about how he's going to introduce me to someone via LinkedIn for a job I'm (VERY!) interested in.And we talked about how he *thinks* they've finally found a replacement for him as CEO. When they finalize the hire, he'll train the new person and then move his family back to Israel.I don't even want to think about that right now.In the car, after lunch, his phone rang. His phone is always ringing. It's hooked up to his car's audio system, so he answered it. It was, I assume, a business associate, because he got really agitated and the other guy's tone sounded apologetic. The only five words he said in English were "Fucking unbelievable," "Microsoft," and "Best Buy." While they were talking, another call came in. He hung up with guy one, and spoke to guy two. Again, all I understood was "unbelievable".When we got to my place, he put the phone on mute, turned to me and smiled and thanked me for having lunch with him. I kissed him on the cheek and gave him a hug before I got out of the car. It was a good hug...we don't usually (anymore) embrace, but I think I was kind of saying "goodbye" to him. Even being "just" his friend - and we really are just friends - feels inappropriate. I feel like I want to stop seeing him, but I can't. Like, really. Just can't. It sucks.

Happy(ish) Birthday

2011-05-21T09:03:00.000-07:00

A couple of days ago I spent a few hours with Meir. It was his birthday, and we hadn't seen each other in six months. He wanted to meet for coffee.

His gift to himself was to take a day off and just have some time to himself. He generally works 12-14 hour days because a lot of his work and clients are based in Israel and the time difference makes it a necessity. This will change soon. The company he founded and is CEO of got a new Board of Directors a few months ago. They fired him. He's looking for his own replacement right now.

At first I told him I didn't want to hang out with him because what went down with us was NOT cool. I changed my mind (obviously). I thought it would be a good opportunity to tell him exactly what I thought about him, his actions, and how I was affected by his behavior. I'm glad I did. I felt much better after telling him that I thought of him as a lying, cheating, asshole scumbag. Oh, yes. Cheating. Not on me, mind you. On his wife. Yes, friends, turns out he's married. With three kids (no, I didn't know, and I've known him since 2009).

To his credit, he took it all. No arguments or defensiveness. Strangely, he seemed a little confused about why I was so upset with him. In fact, he said to me "I don't understand why you care so much. Do you love me?" Oy. I had to explain to him that no, I don't love you, but I very much resent being put in the position of being the skank who fucks around with married men. I'm not ok with infidelity. God knows it almost killed me when I found out my ex was fucking around...

After I'd said everything I needed to say, I got up to leave. He asked where I was going, and if he could come because he didn't have anything to do. Weird, right? I said "I guess so." So, he went to H&M with me. Afterward, I mentioned that I was going to the Apple Store next to buy earphones. Side note: I don't know how, but I've managed to mangle at least three sets of earphones for this iPhone. What the hell? Are they that poorly made, or am I uncommonly hard on them? He told me that I was crazy to spend $30 on earphones there when I could buy them online for $5. We went to the store and I got the earphones. Yup, $29. He took the box from me and said he was going to pay for them. I told him that I didn't want him to, that I don't want anything from him. He told me not to worry about it, he'd expense it to his company. "They fired me. Fuck them."

It's the updated version of the "I fucked around with a married man and all I got was this stupid t-shirt." I got earphones.

You know it's bad when...

2011-01-15T13:42:00.000-08:00

...You get turned down without even offering anything.

Last night I went out dancing with a platonic new friend, and a couple of his friends. We don't know each other that well, but it was nice talking to/hanging out with him.

After we left the club, we parted ways with the other couple and decided to find a bar to have a drink and talk. As we were walking, he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and with a pained expression said to me "I'm not really feeling the 'more than friends thing' with you."

Fuuuuuuucccckkkkk. What?

I told him that was okay, but I wasn't sure where it came from. Had I said something? No. Did I even flirt with him? No. He asked me if things were now awkward between us. Yes. I assured him they were, because now he had pre-emptively rejected me when I wasn't even interested in him romantically.

Goddammit. I'm not stupid. I know what I look like. But for fuck's sake, that hurt my feelings.

I don't see us hanging out again any time soon. Which is too bad. He's really funny, super-smart (in that nerdy neuroscience PhD way) and it seemed like we would be friends. We like a lot of the same music, and we went to see West Side Story together.

Now I'm just wondering if I should drop him as a Facebook friend. I guess I could - we don't even really know each other that well, but it seems kind of petty to me.

2010-09-30T13:11:00.000-07:00

Well, yes. As Doc called it in the comments of the last post, I did agree to see Meir again - but it didn't happen (by the way, I leave all the typos unedited because I'm lazy):

5:38 PM meir: hi there
r u there?
me: hey
5:39 PM meir: Babe, I have bad news (at list bad for me), I'm stuck at work and I don't see how I get out of this place anytime before midnight. I need to fly tomorrow to Seattle and I got nothing ready.
:-(
me: NOW you're making me sad. that sucks. oh well.
meir: I know....
It dose suck
5:41 PM I was looking forward to it, but I just have so much shit to do here, I don't know how the hell I will even be ready by tomorrow
5:42 PM me: I understand.
meir: I'm sorry
mmmm
just a sec

(21 minutes go by and he hasn't returned)

6:05 PM me: Well, I guess I'll see you some other time. Maybe. Take care.

The end. I haven't heard from him since.

From Doc's comment: "What do you want? Any chance of getting that here? Let that be your guide."

Good question. What do I want? Well, I was really enjoying just hanging out with him, laughing, talking, kissing, holding hands...all that stuff. I guess I want someone (who is available) to do those things with. And, no - there probably is not any chance of my getting that with this guy, but since he showed interest, I jumped on it. Fuuuuucckkkkk. So depressing.

I suppose I'm just looking for a distraction from my current disaster of a life, when really, I have a ton of shit I need to be dealing with.

And he's not even around to distract me anymore. Figures.

A Chat with BB

2010-09-22T21:53:00.000-07:00

Last night I was online chatting with Tomate Farcie when Backseat Boy popped in with a chat. I was going to edit his name (Meir) but decided not to since it's not his real name anyway. I swear this is all true - my commentary in bold:

9:35 PM meir: hi there
do u hear me?
me: no, i don't hear you
meir: good....I was worried that everybody on Gmail hears me now
9:36 PM me: nope. not today.
I was just talking about you.
meir: with?
9:37 PM me: i'm also chatting with a friend of mine
meir: what did u say?
9:38 PM me: i didn't say anything bad! actually, i'm just a little confused. what are we doing?
meir: what am I doing now?
9:39 PM me: lol. no. what are you and i doing...in general. i'm not sure.
9:40 PM meir: well,
it started sex neto
but I enjoined spending time with you
so
9:41 PM we ended up eating humus....[since we met, he's complained that he can't find good hummus in the US]
me: right, but we didn't have sex...so i'm confused. i like spending time with you, too.
meir: Well, I am NOT looking for a girlfriend
that's the problem
9:42 PM me: why is that a problem? i don't have to be your girlfriend.
9:43 PM meir: well, this is how you call it when you spend time together + have sex with someone
so I kind of don't know what to do
I spend time with people I enjoy spending time with
me: so, we either spend time together and don't have sex, or we have sex and don't spend time together?
meir: I have sex with people I want to have sex with
I am really not looking for the combination
9:44 PM I don't know
it's dumb I know
9:45 PM me: So...I still don't know what that means for me. (Yeah, it IS dumb, but whatever)
9:47 PM meir: listen, it's complicated. I'm with someone in Israel. I just spend most of my time here. I love her.
me: I understand.
9:49 PM meir: from some reason I am OK with having sex with other women. But I don't want to have a girlfriend and emotionaly I am not avilable [my eyes were beginning to roll at this point]
9:50 PM me: So, what are you saying to me?
meir: I don't know
9:51 PM I don't want to hear you
hurt
you are a great person, fun to be with and all
I don't want to be part of the problem
9:52 PM and I'm worried that you will get emotionally involved and be hurt
9:53 PM me: Well, I might. Or I might not. Either way, I'm an adult and can make that choice for myself. I don't need you to make it for me.
9:54 PM meir: If you remember we had a similar conversation when we met first and in teh emails we exchanged after
I guess it's the combination of finding you fun and attractive that worries me
9:55 PM me: Right. I do remember.
So, are you worried about me, or about yourself? [Right? Does it sound like he likes me more than he wants to? That's what I got]
9:56 PM meir: If you were just an idiot that I don't enjoy talking to or eating humus with then it would have been a lot easier for me - sex and that's it. or if you where a man....
me: It would be easier for you to have sex with me if I were a man?
meir: :-)
9:57 PM no - but it would have been easier or me to eat humus with you and not want to kiss you or have sex with you...
or port steak
9:58 PM pork
me: Are you saying you don't want to see me again?
9:59 PM meir: want - I do want believe me.
but I'm worried that I will hurt you
and I really really don't want to be a bad memory for you
you are too nice of a person
10:01 PM me: Oh for fuck's sake. I do like you. I like kissing you, holding hands with you. WTF? You really don't need to worry about me. I am a grown up.
10:02 PM meir: I know. But I do
10:04 PM me: Well, stop it.
10:06 PM meir: you told me you didn't had a great time and you asked if I'm around to cheer you up a little. I was so happy, I felt great about taking you out to sushi, to a bar, etc. I didn't want to have sex with you. I enjoined spending time with you, I wanted you to have a good time, but I was worried that you will get the wrong message,....[ Yeah. I obvs misinterpreted when he leaned over to kiss me the first time and all the making out - my bad]
10:07 PM BTW - to make it clear, I very much wanted to have sex with you physicality, you are very attractive
10:11 PM I wanna fuck you. Believe me that's going to be too easy for you to get
:-)
me: Well...?
10:12 PM meir: well what?
10:13 PM next time we meet, we will fuck the hell out of each other...
BTW
forget about it
I was going to ask about english grammer
me: What?!
10:14 PM meir: dumb thing
you know me already
me: Ask me anything. I LOVE grammar (it's true)
meir: something about how to say to someone that I want to fuck her with out making it sound so aggressive.....
10:15 PM I guess you can say fuck with you instead fuck you - right?
me: Well, no. "Fuck with you" means to kind of mess with someone's head. Like now...you're kind of fucking with me.
meir: right

Oh. My. God. Really, Buzzgirl? I swear that I should not be allowed to pick my own dates. EVER.

He wants to go out again tomorrow. What do you think I said?

Some advice?

2010-09-21T16:43:00.000-07:00

So, as we've established (and as is the subtitle of this blog) I am a social retard. I've had few serious relationships and I just don't know how to act on a date.

I had lunch with BB today. When I got into the car, he didn't lean over to kiss me, which I thought was weird. When we got to the place, it was fine. The food was good, the conversation interesting, etc. Then he drove me home and returned to his office. There was a quick kiss before I got out of the car, and mention of talking soon, and then that was it.

Here's the deal: I have no idea what we're doing. Are we dating? Should I assume he likes me? Should I ask him? I really have absolutely no idea. Maybe I should just wait to see if I ever hear from him again. If I don't, then I guess my questions will be answered.

It's just so odd to me that things got so amorous on our second date, and there's been no mention made of it since. Or any other attempt for that matter.

So weird. What should I do?

Win Some, Lose Some

2010-09-20T12:53:00.000-07:00

In the win column:

1) I attended this Levi’s event on Saturday, and got a free pair of great fitting jeans. It was a fun day, lots of free stuff and a concert by She & Him. The band was introduced by a couple of local DJs. They were asking the crowd trivia questions and handing out $25 gift certificates to the Levi's store as prizes. I answered the last question correctly, but they "mistakenly" gave my prize to someone else. I was annoyed. They took my contact info and promised to "see what they could do." Today, I got a phone call saying they're giving me a $100 gift card to the Levi's store by way of apology. Score! Win!

2) I used a public restroom today. The restroom was clean, well stocked with TP and soap and towels, and I found $10 by the garbage can. Score! Win #2!

In the lose column:

BB emailed me to tell me he forgot about a dentist appointment that he has, so I don't get to see him today. It's not that much of a lose, though because we rescheduled for tomorrow.

I really hate to admit that I like him. It just sets me up for so much hurt. But I do. I really enjoyed talking with him last night. He's very bright, he's attractive, he's generous...something's gotta give, right?

Gah! I'm just going to try to relax and enjoy this for as long as I can. We'll see how that goes.

Why, yes. It is exhausting...

2010-09-19T23:35:00.000-07:00

...To be this much of a drama queen. I'm wearing myself out.

BB just dropped me at home. We went to dinner, then for a long walk. It was very nice. He's very tall, so our holding hands was a little awkward at first, but we got the hang of it.

We stopped in a small park and kissed as we sat on the lone bench. Pretty chaste stuff, considering how our last date ended.

We have plans for lunch tomorrow. There's a place in Oakland he wants to try.

Like I said: it was very nice. And now I can go to sleep.

2010-09-19T15:58:00.000-07:00

COMES THE DAWN

After awhile you learn the subtle difference
between holding a hand and chaining a soul.
And you learn that love doesn't mean security,
And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts
And presents aren't promises.
And you begin to accept your defeats with you head up and your eyes open.
With the grace of maturity, not the grief of a child.
And you learn to build all your roads on
Today because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans,
And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.
After awhile you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much.
So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure...
That you really are strong
And that you really do have worth.
And you learn and learn and learn ....
With every goodbye you learn.

-Veronica A. Shoftstall

Obviously, Backseat Boy never got in touch again. For fuck's sake. I'm still more of a "grief of a child" gal than a "grace of maturity" person.

Sigh.

He's Back

2010-09-15T19:41:00.000-07:00

Backseat Boy (I should probably come up with a better alias than that) has returned from his trip. He emailed me right when he got back about our plans for this weekend.

I'm pretty excited about this guy, which is worrisome. I don't really even know him that well. I have a tendency to jump right into things - a lesson I should have learned from by now, but apparently not. I'm not sure if it stems from desperation or what. No one likes to think of themselves as desperate, but here we are, just on the brink of date number three and I'm already mythologizing this guy. Every time I've ridden my bike past the place where we parked, I can't help but get wistful. I rode by the bar we made out in and thought to myself "Awwww." It's stupid, and setting myself up for the inevitable disappointment he will turn out to be.

Fucking accents. They draw me in every time (Hi Scottie! Hi Christophe!).

Backsliding

2010-09-13T21:25:00.000-07:00

Well, not really. But almost.

After I went to the Academy of Sciences for the free day on Sunday, I was supposed to meet up with this guy I used to...um, well, I guess date isn't exactly the right word...you know. It was a proximity thing: he lives near Golden Gate Park.

This person is not good for me. I stopped talking/emailing/texting/communicating with him last October, but like a chronic illness, he keeps coming back.

As luck would have it, when he was supposed to pick me up, he couldn't because he was still working, and by the time he got home I was already back at my place in pajamas watching Poirot on PBS. We went back and forth about his coming to pick me up, etc., but in the end (which is a pun for this guy - in which case I should say in HIS end!) it didn't work out, which I think is for the best.

It may have just been a case of my "not having had sex in a year panic" getting to me, and honestly, this guy was not the way to go. He sent me all these emails saying how great we were together in the past, and all I could think while I was reading them was "Yeah, maybe for you."

Who knows? Maybe things will work out with backseat guy. Maybe not. There's always BOB!!

Buzzgirl is NOT 17 years old

2010-09-11T10:10:00.000-07:00

So, can someone explain to me how I ended up making out in the backseat of a car last night? I mean come on.

Granted, the guy is cute, nice, and I hate to even mention this, but it's true, RICH, but seriously, people. What the hell?

This is someone I went out with once last year, but he was too nice for me, I guess. I was more interested in the guy who was treating me like crap at the time (recurring theme for me). We met for coffee, he took me to lunch, and walking back to his car, we walked by a shoe store. When he asked if I was obsessed with shoes like most other women, I admitted a certain...fondness. We went in, he bought me some shoes, and I never called him again. Classy, no?

Anyway, I saw his old email in my inbox yesterday (note to self: clean inbox more frequently). I sent him a message that literally said "I want you to take me out." After the initial "Do I know you?" reply, because, yeah, it had been a year, he said "What about tonight?" and suggested a restaurant.

He picked me up, we went to dinner, then when he pulled up to my place afterward, he took my hand and said he didn't want to say goodnight yet. (At this point I should mention that it was just after 10:00pm, and he had a flight to Memphis this morning for work, and he looked exhausted.) So we went to a bar. Actually, we went to a couple of bars. We left the first one because it was too crowded. When we were seated at the second one, we talked, laughed, etc. It was pretty loud, so when he leaned in toward me, I thought he was going to say something, so I turned my head - which is why our first kiss was his mouth to my ear. After much laughter and apologizing on my part, we got it figured out. So, we're making out AT THE BAR, and the bartender gives us the "Get a room" look. So we leave. We get in his car, and he's taking me home, when I suggest we pull over and make out. Which we did.

The truly ridiculous part of this story is that HE stopped it before we were completely naked. When I asked him why, he said "Because we are responsible adults." Which made me laugh so hard, I snorted.

So, he took me home, left for Tennessee this morning, and I won't see him again until next week. It was fun. Admittedly juvenile, but fun nonetheless.

One thing though: when I made out in cars as a teen, not once was it in the back of a brand new Mercedes...so, yeah. Upgrade.

Shawn

2009-10-01T13:42:00.000-07:00

I haven't been able to muster up the ability to write this post for a while, but here goes.

One of my best friends died suddenly, and frankly, in a fucking infuriating way, in December. He was 38 and he, quite literally, drank himself to death. How I found out was fucked up, too, but whatever.

Shawn and I met in high school. He was the younger brother of one of my best friends, Aaron. Shawn and I hit it off immediately. He was a year younger than Aaron and me, and though he at 6'5" towered over my 5'3", I very much considered him the "little" brother I never had (but always wanted!)

Growing up, Aaron and Shawn hated each other. This was exacerbated by the fact that they had to share a room. When I went to hang out at their place, I had to be there to visit one or the other specifically, because they just didn't get along.

After high school graduation (where I marched arm in arm with Aaron), I moved to LA for university, and Shawn was stuck in Tacoma/Puyallup until he could move to Seattle as soon as he could after his own graduation.

Shawn came out to me when he was 18 or 19. He had been afraid to tell me, because he thought I would judge him harshly. I remember my feelings being hurt that he thought I would ever think badly of him because: A) I knew; and B) I loved him. Many tears were shed. Such drama!

A few months later, Aaron asked me if Shawn was bisexual. In my head, I was thinking ("Uh, hell NO!"), but I just replied that he should probably ask him that himself.

I know this is rambling, so I'll just try to get to the point

Shawn drank. A lot. He was a fixture at the legendary Neighbours on Capitol Hill even before he tended bar there. He was seen as a party boy, and to some extent, that was true - but he was much more than that.

He was a hard worker. He worked three jobs. He was a very generous, empathetic person. For many reasons his chosen family became more of a presence in his life than the family he grew up in. I was lucky enough to be one of the chosen. But he was also sad and lonely, and used work and booze as forms of escape.

Shawn died of acute pancreatitis brought on by chronic alcoholism.

When Aaron finally told me how he died - and it was an awkward conversation because, while Shawn and I never grew apart, Aaron and I did (I have only seen him twice in the several years he's lived near me. Once, when Shawn was visiting, so it was inevitable, and once by happenstance at the airport. I didn't even know he lived here until Shawn mentioned it.)

Aaron loved his brother, but still harbors some resentment about "family" being replaced by "friends". He did tell me that when Shawn was pronounced dead that the first thought he had was "Oh, my God. I have to tell Buzzgirl." Somehow, that made me even sadder.

I don't post many photos of myself here, but I have a few of Shawn and me together from the last time he was in San Francisco. It wasn't the last time I saw him (I visited him in Seattle), but we look so happy/goofy.

In this first one, the Polaroid is a little mangled, but I particularly love the shot of just his eyes and my cleavage:

The differences in our heights is almost comical:

I love you, Shawn. I am so sorry for all your pain, and hope that you are now free.

It's that time again...

2009-07-23T14:43:00.000-07:00

I wish (some) of you were here to help celebrate my "oldie first" birthday next week!

Bitchface

2009-07-14T16:27:00.000-07:00

I possess a demeanor that I refer to as Bitchface. It's not something that I actively or even consciously cultivated, but I guess it's there because I just don't look jolly walking through the city.

When walking alone down the street, I am often accosted by men unknown to me trying to cajole me into grinning for some reason. It's happened since I was young. I'll be minding my own business, trying to get where I'm going and some asshat will say something like "Ooh, girl you should smile!" or just "Smile."

I admit that I used to just smile and be on my way. Even relatively recently, no matter how I felt, I'd comply with the demand to smile. What the hell was that about? Why do random people feel they have the right to: a) talk to me; and b) demand something like a change of emotion for their benefit? It's bizarre. And rude. And it happens all the time. I guess the more important question is why did go ahead and smile at them?

The other morning, I was walking to BART, and some drunk guy, literally lying on the sidewalk, looked up at me and said "Smile, baby." I didn't. Instead, I stopped and said "Who the fuck are you? You don't know me. Why should I smile for you, asshole?" He just looked at me and mumbled "Whatever." So, I turned and continued walking. And as I walked away, I noticed I was smiling.

Just popping in...

2009-07-08T18:39:00.000-07:00

So, Scottie and I are FB friends. I'm happy to report that he is fine and well and soon to be a father! Of course, I think he should have knocked me up: I have a proven track record of producing cute kids. :)

I sent the crush a message that wasn't answered for over a week. In the meantime, I had run into this person and this person's girlfriend at the park...awkward. Oh, well. I suppose I'm really just looking for a distraction - when, in fact, I should be looking for a job.

Oh! I did have sex (yes, with another person, thankyouverymuch). I'd met him last September, and we went out last Thursday. He's a nice guy, but he left the next day for LA, so... WHATEVER!! The important thing is that he is the first person I've had sex with, er, intercourse with since the break-up over a year ago. No worries - you never really forget. It was like riding a bike. A girthy bike. Is that even a word? It should be.

Anyhoo: I love this picture:

Later.

Cool or Creepy?

2009-06-21T14:29:00.000-07:00

I have found two profiles on Facebook and while I really want to contact these people, I am unaware of the creep factor, and don't want to come off as a stalkery asshole.

Person one is Scottie.

Person two is someone I met recently. We hit it off and spent a lot of time talking and flirting (I think - god knows I'm so bad at it and can barely recognize it when someone else is doing it). We even told each other "Hey, maybe I'll run into you at [bar], or at [specific event]." But this is where it gets tricky: we didn't exchange full names, and I had to do some serious research to get the name and find them on FB.

So what do you think? Would it be too weird to contact either of these folks? How would you feel about it? I really need your feedback. Let me know in the comments.

Also, if you want to be my FB friend (and I actually, like, know you), let me know via email.

Gracias, merci, grazie, salamat, danke, etc.

What You've All Been Waiting For (sarcasm)

2008-10-02T12:23:00.000-07:00

I don't have any judgement about who anyone has consentual sex with. Really, I don't. If there are no children or animals involved, rest assured, that what you do in your own private life is all good with me.

HOWEVER. Don't tell me you love me, commit to a monogamous relationship, have a discussion about not using condoms, pay for birth control pills and then... let me find out that during the ENTIRE duration of our relationship you've been f'ing random men, women and trannies from craigslist (literally anyone who would have sex with you) and then coming home and having unprotected sex with me.

That's bad enough, I know. But there's more... The last time I had unprotected sex with anyone? 1994. When I got pregnant.

One of the most frustrating things for me is that I will never know why or how he could do this to someone he supposed "loved." In my opinion, he is evil.

This is an email he sent me literally the day before shit went down: "Hiya. Just wanted to say I had a great time this weekend. Thanks again for renting the car and doing the driving. I really do appreciate our time together. I don't think I've ever felt this loved before and it really means a lot to me Buzzgirl. I don't say this often enough, but you're a great girlfriend and I feel very fortunate to have you in my life. I love you very much."

Yes, I've been tested for HIV, though I'll need to go back in three months to be retested. No, I haven't gone in yet for the battery of other tests I need to take. I just haven't been up to it.

Also, can I just say, my 13 year old daughter, while riding in the car with a friend of mine asked her "When, Scott cheated on my mom, was it with a man or a woman?" My friend was so flustered she replied, "Oh, um, I don't know." When she told me later, my reaction was "Oh my god. Am I the only one who didn't know my boyfriend was blowing guys?!" I mean, fuck! I was a theatre major. I've lived in San Francisco for 15 years. I know the gays! My gaydar was (is) on the fritz.

So, I've been living under a rock for a few months.

And yeah, I turned off comments for this post.

Oy! It Would Kill You to Visit Your Bubbe?

2008-09-30T09:54:00.000-07:00

The Great Schlep from The Great Schlep on Vimeo.

I know I owe an explanation

2008-07-18T12:03:00.000-07:00

And I SWEAR I'll spill the beans soon, but I just want to know if anyone is in town for BlogHer. If so, let me know. I live here in San Francisco, and would love to hang out with you.

Unrelated aside: I'm in a coffee shop, and some guy just walked in. He's wearing so much cologne I just got an instant headache. Ugh.

Coming Clean Part I

2008-06-04T12:25:00.000-07:00

I’ve been keeping a secret. Actually, I’ve been keeping many, but one in particular that I will share with you now.

I wrote a post in February titled “Is it possible?” that questioned whether or not a significant other could be living a “double life” of sorts. Here’s an excerpt of the (since taken down) post:

“No, we don't live together, but we spend an awful lot of time together.

…We made plans to go out the next night, Saturday. While I was procrastinating, instead of straightening up the apartment before he came over, I went online. I got an email that destroyed me.

I broke up with him. He begged. He got angry. He cried. I asked him to please, if he loved me so much, to stop calling/texting/emailing me. I wasn't ready to talk to him. He sent a text that said "I'm sorry, I just hate being accused of something I didn't do, esp when it's hurting the love of my life so much." I went to his place at 2:00. We talked we cried. I said I'd call him the next day. I got an email from him Sunday that somewhat exonerated him. I called him and he asked if I'd come over. I went. He asked if I "had something to say to him." I asked, "Do you want me to apologize?" He said "That would be nice, yes." I said, "I'm sorry, but can you see how things look(ed) from my perspective?" He started to tear up and tell me that while yes, he understood that, what he didn't understand is why I didn't believe him when he said he didn't do anything. He would never treat me like that: dumping him like we had had nothing before.

I put what I was feeling aside. Very difficult for someone like me with MAJOR trust issues. I spent the night. We spent the entire next day together. I left his place at midnight this morning.

When I woke up, I had an epiphany of some sort. I put my internet research skills to work and found what I suspect is a smoking gun. I think he was lying all along. I am such an asshole. Gullible.

I left him a voicemail message...he hasn't called back yet. Should be an interesting conversation.”

It was an interesting conversation. There was no real resolution except that we decided we loved each other enough to work it out, to try again – even though in my heart I knew it would never be the same between us.

So, what’s the secret? The secret is that I went back to him. We’ve been together this whole time. I’ve been embarrassed and ashamed to admit that I took him back, considering how spectacularly he humiliated me.

I hope you'll bear with me over the next couple of posts. I'm trying very hard to figure out exactly what it is about me that is so...what is the word? Needy? that I allowed myself to be made a fool of - repeatedly - for so long.

I'll tell you what he did (and continues to do) next time.

More funny

2008-04-03T11:16:00.000-07:00

see more crazy cat pics

I am an 80s music idiot savant

2008-03-26T19:47:00.000-07:00

I was Righteous!
I scored 100% on the

Take the 80s quizby SheGoddess: Quick Weight Loss

I can't stop laughing at this

2008-03-18T16:03:00.001-07:00

Maybe because Easter is so soon?

see more crazy cat pics

Win (maybe)!

2008-03-13T22:12:00.000-07:00

Well, hopefully, I'll win, but here's a chance to win great trips. If you're a big travel fan, then enter!

Here's the link.

Good luck...but not too good :)

You Can't Afford Me

2008-03-05T11:26:00.000-08:00

I am officially...

2008-01-27T21:47:00.000-08:00

...the parent of a teenager. God help me.

Happy Birthday, Binky!

Happy New Year!

2007-12-31T02:40:00.000-08:00

I generally hate NYE.

I am, however, looking forward to 2008 with my nerd boy. It's going well with us.

You can listen to him from 7:00 to 9:30 (Pacific Time) as he does a dj shift tonight. Listen here.

Here's to a safe, happy 2008 to you all.

Wear your helmet, Dumbass!

2007-12-14T15:12:00.000-08:00

Apparently, I don't see well at night. Last night, while riding home from my dear boyfriend's place, I took a nasty spill in the middle of Market St. Literally, the middle, in fact. I, riding at top speed, failed to avoid the median as I attempted to cross the street. I went flying over the handle bars, and got pretty scraped up. Miraculously enough, that was it, besides having the wind knocked out of me.

A few cars stopped to ask if I was okay (after I dragged myself to safety). A few pedestrians and a fellow cyclist, too. Nice folks.

The kicker? I do own a helmet, but wasn't wearing it. Last thing my bf said as I was leaving? "Wear your helmet next time, ok?"

I called him and told him what happened. He came and met me. He took good care of me, and was kind enough not to say "I told you so" until he called to check up on me this morning. Even then, he didn't really say those four words (good move on his part). Instead, he just reiterated how much he cares about me.

He loves me so much. Of course instead of accepting it, I'm always suspicious, questioning ("But why do you love me so much?") He's being punished for the sins of those who came before him. It's not fair, mais c'est la vie. He's very patient, and waaaay to good to me. Funnily, he thinks the same about me.

Buzzgirl tries not to freak out.

2007-11-30T12:08:00.000-08:00

Wednesday night:

He walked me to the bus stop. As the bus approached, we gave each other a hug and kiss good night.

Him: "I'll talk to you later," and then, into my shoulder some semi-intelligible mumbling.

Me: "What did you say?" (which may have sounded more accusatory than I meant it to.)

"Nothing. I'll give you a call."

"No. What did you say?"

"I'll tell you later."

Thursday, lunch with my friends C and W:

"I'm pretty sure S told me he loved me last night, but he would neither confirm nor deny."

Thursday night with S:

"What did you say to me last night?"

"I love you. I wasn't planning to blurt it out like that"

"Oh."

"Am I freaking you out? Is it too soon?"

"No...but it is a little scary for me."

It's nerd love, people. What can I tell you? I did change my myspace status to "In a relationship," though. So it must be serious, right?

Buzzgirl is in a (gulp) relationship.

2007-11-27T17:59:00.000-08:00

How did this happen? Not to worry: I'm sure I'll be sabotaging it soon.

This is the big one

2007-10-10T02:16:00.001-07:00

Prayers, wishes of luck, crossing of fingers will all be much appreciated.

Thanks.

Birthday!

2007-07-29T08:32:00.001-07:00

Cripes, look at all those freaking candles. So, so old.

Now's as good a time as ever...

2007-07-17T19:45:00.000-07:00

To say goodbye. I honestly don't know for how long.

I have a life (well, kind of) outside of what I reveal here on the blog, and unfortunately that life is currently out of control. Some of it, admittedly is my fault. Most of it isn't. Alas.

I have enjoyed my time here and the relationships I've made with many of you.

My thoughts are with all the new moms, the fellow Paris lovers, expats and others I've come to read and "know" over the past year and a half.

Please think good thoughts for me, too.

Sincerely et grosses bises,

buzzgirl

The best 5 seconds ever!

2007-06-25T15:03:00.000-07:00

Watch with the sound on.

Happy Pride 2007!

2007-06-24T01:26:00.000-07:00

Here's me rocking the corset at the Dyke March:

After meeting up (and losing) friends in the huge crowd, I hopped on BART to attend Dagny's birthday party. Damn, that woman can cook! Frankly, it's a good thing I was still wearing the corset because it prevented me from overeating too much! Not to mention the white sangria. It was soooo good, and because of all the fruit in it, you could talk yourself into thinking it was a healthy alternative to the hard liquour - that is until you notice that just because it tastes likes juice doesn't mean it won't knock you on your ass. Ah, well.

Tomorrow is the meetup of Bay Area lovers of Paris Daily Photo. Eric is in town visiting from Paris, and a group is getting together to welcome him and thank him for the lovely shots of the City of Lights that he provides us each day.

This happens after the Pride Parade and Celebration, of course. My friend C will be riding with the Women's Motorcycle Contingent a/k/a "Dykes on Bikes" for the first time this year. Supposedly. They're supposed to be there at 8:00am to line up because they kick off the parade. When last I saw her at the Dyke March, she was more than a little tipsy... we'll see if she makes it.

Happy Pride, y'all.

It's all good for now

2007-06-22T12:49:00.000-07:00

I go back on July 6th. I know! WTF with all these hearings? I dunno.

Back to court today...

2007-06-22T08:21:00.000-07:00

Wish me luck.

Thank you

2007-05-29T15:56:00.000-07:00

Thanks to all of you who thought of me and/or prayed for me today. It worked! For now. Believe it or not, I have to go back to court on June 22nd... and even that won't be the end.

Thanks again.

I know I've asked before...

2007-05-25T15:32:00.000-07:00

...but I'm asking again.

It should be mentioned that I am not a religious person. At all. I was made to go to church and Sunday school every week until I was 14 and given the option to opt out - which I did. I attended Lutheran school for three years, and even ended up going to a Christian university. I had an interest in and attraction to Judaism for a long time and took an "Introduction to Judaism" class. Intrigued, I took more classes, and at this point, I'm basically, a mikvah away from being a Reform Jew. I just never followed through.

All of this is to say that if any of your are the praying kind, I need your prayers now. I hate having to be so cryptic, but I can't go into detail. Suffice it to say that I will be going to court on Tuesday, and if things go poorly, it will be catastrophic for my daughter and me. Really.

If you're not a pray-er, then please just think good thoughts for me.

I'm pretty desperate right now (can you tell?) How desperate? Well, I bought some candles, incense and oil at Botanica Yoruba. Yeah, it's that serious...

Before anyone asks ('cause that's just the way my blogging buddies are!), no: there's nothing any of you can do for me at this point beyond the praying/thoughts thing. Also, keep me in mind if you find any lucky pennies or see any shooting stars. I'll take whatever I can get at this point. Seriously.

Thank you all!!

Holy Shit

2007-05-19T18:21:00.000-07:00

There's been some crazy - CArazy shit going on. I haven't told anyone the whole story, only bits and pieces...

My kid and I went out with my friend (yeah, the ex-boyfriend) on Friday night. We went to a bookstore, a cafe, and an art opening at the Mission Cultural Center where we got to silkscreen posters, which was a lot of fun. On the walk there I was wearing baggy sweatpants which I love, but they were really baggy (and probably not ideal gallery wear). We stopped in at one of the myriad clothing stores on Mission St. so I could buy some cheap jeans. I looked around and honestly, I don't know what made me even think I could fit into the size I grabbed, but they were only $3.99, so I thought, "WTF?" I tried them on, and they fit. I couldn't believe it. This time last year I wore a size 16. Apparently, I am now a size 10. This was verified today by some more shopping. I tried stuff on buy didn't buy anything. I'm stunned. I haven't consciously done anything to change my eating habits. Additionally, I can't exercise with my achilles tendon AND I started taking birth control pills last September - which are notorious for making folks gain weight. I've been under a lot (and I mean a freaking lot) of stress lately. I'm sure that has something to do with it. Of course, my first thought is that I must have some disease... of course if I do, I'm kind of happy about these symptoms. Is that wrong?

"I need to get my drink on"

2007-04-21T14:24:00.000-07:00

Remiss

2007-03-26T17:57:00.000-07:00

I've been remiss in updating this thing, especially considering that I've actually done some fun "blog worthy" things.

A couple of weekends ago, I was lucky enough to hang out with one of my favorite bloggers, Neil of Citizen of the Month. He and his wife/muse Sophia were passing through San Francisco on their way back to LA after having taken a drive to Portland. We were joined for brunch by the fabulous
Empress Dagny. It was so cool to meet them all in "real life." Originally we'd planned to eat at Lime (and partake in their All-You-Can-Drink mimosas for $4) but when we got there, the wait to get in was out of control. So, we came back to my neighborhood, and ate at Last Supper Club. Good food, good drink (I had a roasted tomato bloody mary), and fun company. After brunch, we picked up my kid and we took a mini-tour around San Francisco, seeing the murals in the Mission, the yuppie parents in Noe Valley, and the view from Twin Peaks.

The following weekend I spent hobbling around (I'm down to ONE crutch!) with Tomate Farcie. We did a little shopping at Chamalyn, then enjoyed a few frozen margaritas together. Later, I attended games night at a friend's home in Oakland. Why-oh-why am I so competitive? Seriously - Pictionary and Trivial Pursuit almost sent me over the edge! It was fun as always, though.

This past weekend was spent in Seattle. My brother, sister and I attempted to surprise my mom with a birthday party. She wasn't surprised, but it was a great party nonetheless. What the hell is the deal with people who show up without RSVPing though? I was ready to strangle a bunch of people that were there unexpectedly. It's not curiostiy, people. We actually have to plan (and pay for) food... ARGH!

Other than that frustration, I had a great time. Usually I stay with my mom, but obviously couldn't this time. Inspired by the fantastic deal Neil and Sophia got from Priceline (name your own price, yo!) I booked a room for two nights at the Renaissance in downtown Seattle. It was faaanncy.

Friday night (our second night there) my friend K came to hang out. After dinner, we took the kid back to the room and headed to the hotel bar. That's where I met H, the adorable English bartender. I flirted outrageously with this young man who is 12 years my junior. We got some free drinks out of the deal. After last call I went to move my car out of the carpool only parking (don't worrry - I'd only had one and a half drinks all night.) When I got back to the elevators to go up to my room, H was coming out of one of the elevators. He asked me to give him a ride home. I did. And then I went back to my room. Yeah, that was it, basically. Nothing happened. Sigh. If I weren't such a lazy typist, I'd go into more detail, but really there's nothing to tell. He's super-cute though! If you're ever in that hotel in Seattle, tell him I said "Hi."

Baby, it's hot outside...

2007-03-11T15:44:00.000-07:00

...and I can't even ride my bike to take advantage of it. Damn it.

I've started physical therapy. I only go once a week, which is good since I can go on Saturdays. My first appointment wasn't so bad, actually. The therapist evaluated my range of motion, showed me some exercises to do, and massaged the scar site for 5 long minutes. She told me that we would "start slow and then we'll get more... aggressive over the next few weeks." I didn't like the way she paused before she said "aggressive."

Yesterday was my second visit. She wanted me to stand on my feet - without the boot. I haven't stood on my left foot in six weeks. Six weeks! Let's just say I was more than a little apprehensive. Luckily, I was allowed to hold onto the counter. I wasn't expected to actually take a step (thank god) but, man, did it feel weird. I'm so unsteady on my feet - or foot, I guess. It's strange to have to learn to put weight on the left side of my body again. I was given new exercises to strengthen my weakened thigh and hip muscles. It's odd to see how much smaller and thinner my left leg is in comparison to the right. My right leg did a lot of work dragging my left around. I guess I didn't realize. The crazy thing is that six weeks isn't even half-way to recovery for me. It's so freaking infuriating. As I've said, I'm not a patient woman. But I know I'll never take walking for granted. (Actually, I never really have. I always appreciated being to walk.)

Yay! Bink and I went grocery shopping for the first time in a month and a half. The big chains here (Safeway, Albertsons) deliver, but Trader Joe's doesn't, and anyway, I really prefer going myself.

Though the people in my life have been awesome in helping me get around, it's nice to be more independent. My mom has been so cute - she's been sending me care packages, like when I was in college. It's hilarious. They've contained things like little pudding cups, soups and those cups of ramen noodles. It's reminiscent of the $25 checks her godmother still sends her every year for her birthday!

I'm happy to report that I haven't gained any weight back, so far. Of course, I haven't lost anymore either. I haven't invested any money in new clothes, but I have bought new underwear which is just as satisfying. For me, anyway.

So, that's what's new with me. Nothing exciting, but sometimes that's good.

I have accomplished nothing

2007-02-21T15:49:00.000-08:00

Wow, time flies. I haven't posted here in a couple of weeks - I can't believe it's been that long already. I guess since I haven't had sex since Super Bowl Sunday, there's been nothing to write about. Sigh.

I've lost 30lbs., though. Without even trying or thinking about it. My mom thinks it's because of the (physical) pain I've been in. I think it's because of the stress and emotional pain I've been in (but haven't really addressed here - and won't, frankly.) But it's all good. I summoned up the courage to try on a favorite pair of jeans I've held onto over the years even though I haven't fit into them in at least three. They fit! Woo hoo!

I've been doing nothing all day. Sitting at my desk playing on the internet. Christ, what a bum.

Things are being done only because I'm learning to delegate. Ha ha! That just means I give my assistant (whom I despise) a bunch of crappy stuff to do. Things that need to be done, but that I don't feel like doing. Such are the perks of having the word "Director" in your job title.

It's been just about a month since my surgery. I have a check up on Friday. As of last Friday I have permission to start walking on my foot - still using the crutches, and in the boot. I tried it. It was a no go. Actually, it was a "Oh. Helllll. No." I think a lot of my reticence is mental, though. I'm afraid of what might hurt. Speaking of which, I start physical therapy next week. I had kind of been looking forward to it, thinking it was a sure sign that I'm recovering. I also envisioned hot soaks and massages. Apparently, this was a misconception. Everyone I've talked to who has been through physical therapy has described it as painful and hellish. Great. Something else to look forward to.

I am probably one of the most impatient people you'd ever meet. Being on crutches is an exercise in patience for me. Everything takes sooooo long. I can't carry anything. I have to wear a backpack for my crap because I can't carry a purse. I'm really, really hating it. And the patience lesson is lost on me. I'm getting more pissed off, not more "zen" about the situation as time passes - and I've probably got another four weeks to go. Argh. I've got to remember to buy some batteries for my camera. I'll share a photo of my scar with y'all.

Hi Jeff!

2007-02-06T22:09:00.000-08:00

A few months ago I was sitting in my neighborhood bar talking to another regular patron. Somehow the fact that I had a blog came up. I steadfastly refused to give him the URL, but he said he could probably find it, no problem. I was unconvinced. I mean, it's not like I use my real name or anything.

Well. Thanks to the handy, dandy Sitemeter, I've just learned that someone from the nonprofit organization he works for spent a bit of time here today.

Dammit! How the hell did you find me? (Tell me in the comments) You're the only person I know in real life who has read this (just in time for my Slut Chronicles, too. Neat!)

I suppose I owe you a drink... once I can walk over to the bar again.

Cockblocked

2007-02-06T12:43:00.000-08:00

I had a(nother) date last night. Everything was going well. We were drinking wine, he told me about the house he owns in Napa and what it was like moving to California from Manhattan having never been before he decided to move. His (freaking amazing) apartment is in the Marina, which I had to overlook, because I fricking hate that neighborhood. In fact, when my friends and I go out in my neighborhood, we sometimes yell "Go back to the Marina!" to the drunk bimbos and frat boys on Mission St.

Fast forward to us in his bedroom. I'm sitting on the bed (completely dressed) and he's naked lying down (um, this blog really isn't going to become a log of my sex life, but this part is relevant). So, picture the scene, there hasn't been any sexual contact at this point. We were watching TV (I realize this part is weird considering his nakedness, but it was on and I was like, "Oh, what's that?") Attention span of a fly.

We'd talked before about his job (the generic sounding IT), and for some inexplicable reason I chose this moment to ask him, specifically, what it is that he does.

"Oh, I work for (company name)."

As soon as he mentioned the name of this relatively small company I let out a gasp. "I know someone who works there..."

Of course he asked who, and I was like, "I'm not telling you."

So, the next 20 minutes or so was spent with him trying to guess, and me promising to tell him, ahem, later. But then he said this other guy's name, and I have NO poker face, so...

I didn't get laid last night. He told me that he kept picturing me with this guy, and couldn't... you know. Oh my god. I suppose in a town this small it was bound to happen sometime.

So essentially, I was cockblocked by this guy's co-worker, who was nowhere around. "I work 100 feet from him. I hang out with him! Don't ever mention this to him, okay? This never leaves this bedroom."

Yeah, okay, but does posting it on teh innernets count?

Dichoto "me"

2007-02-05T09:56:00.000-08:00

I hadn't seen or heard from my ex for about a year and a half. Is it weird that I still call him "my ex"? We went out, like 15 years ago. I think by now he should just be "my friend" or "A"... but for some reason I feel the need stress the fact that I have, indeed, at some point had a boyfriend.

Wow. Someone's been in therapy, huh?

Anyway, we went out for a drink on Friday. I was bored with him, and was totally reminded of what I didn't like about him. Nice, right? Yeah, sometimes I just can't conceal the bitch.

We were talking about dating - not each other - and I mentioned that I hadn't had sex since January first (though, as of yesterday, we can reset that clock.) I was telling him about Greg, and what a freak he was. I mentioned how horrible I felt to refer to him as a "freak" when in actuality I guess his... "predilections" - ahem - aren't necessarily unheard of, just not something I'd ever been exposed to. God, I know I'm being vague, but whatever.

So the question occurred to me: is it possible to be both a slut and a prude? Apparently so. But I'm working on it. The prude part, anyway.

Gavin's sexual crime

2007-02-02T11:18:00.000-08:00

Ooooh! Have you heard? San Francisco has it's own sex scandal! How very British of us. Basically, it boils down to Alex Tourk, the mayor's campaign manager (he's up for re-election in November) resigning in the wake of finding out his wife had an affair with the mayor.

Honestly, I don't care who is sleeping with whom. I do hope this damages Gavin's chance for re-election. I am not a fan. Actually, the only thing that kind of bothers me about this is that the woman, Ruby Rippey-Tourk also worked for the mayor, as his appointment secretary. His suboordinate. In his office. That is out of bounds, people. Everyone knows that beginning an affair with someone who works for you could be construed as a sexual harassmeent no-no.

Ironically, given my dislike of our mayor, just days before my surgery I went out with a friend (who inexplicably wants to be known as "T" here - even though there's no "t" in his name - go figure). The bar he suggested we meet at was packed. When I went in there was a table by the door. I asked what the occasion was, and it was a fundraiser for the mayor's re-election campaign! Ah. That explained why I was the only black person there. I am not in his core demographic. We did, however, stay long enough to take advantage of the open bar before going to dinner.

In other news, I had a check up with the surgeon today. The stitches were removed (which actually kind of hurt!) Healing seems to be coming along nicely, but I still need to be on the crutches without bearing any weight on the foot for another two weeks (drag). After that, I'll begin physical therapy and will hopefully get off the crutches soon after. I have to admit, though: I love what the crutches are doing for my arms. They're becoming pretty defined and less jiggly. Gotta love that.

I couldn't last a week

2007-01-24T16:29:00.000-08:00

I took the cast off last night. Believe me, it wasn't easy. But it had to be done. It never once occurred to me that claustrophobia would manifest itself in this way.

I sheepishly called the doctor this morning to confess my misdeed. He directed me to come in immediately. After checking the wound (egads, it is horrific looking) he asked me if I thought I could handle it if he put another cast on, because it really needs to be protected. I said that I didn't think so. So, I'm back in a new boot. I'm still not allowed to bear any weight on it, and I'm supposed to leave it on at all times - as if it were a cast. Honestly, I think the fact that I can so easily take it off (its closures are velcro) is enough for me. Right now, anyway.

Oh, and apparently the doctor did, in fact, talk to me following the surgery. I just have no memory of it. I hope I didn't say anything too embarrassing.

Brief surgery recap

2007-01-21T11:44:00.000-08:00

Well, I didn't die. I am deathly afraid of general anesthesia, and it took a lot of convincing on the anesthesiologist's part, but I survived.

As far as I know, the surgery was a success - I haven't talked to the surgeon since. I have a follow up appointment on Friday.

Crutches suck. My armpits, pectoral muscles and sides are all extremely sore. I literally have to hop everywhere on the crutches because I am not allowed to bear any weight on my left foot. Yesterday I rented a wheelchair. Hopefully this will make my life easier over the next month.

Friday night (the night of the surgery) I woke up out of a Vicodin induced sleep at about midnight and freaked the fuck out. I got the kid up and drove to the emergency room (ouch, ouch, ouch - the clutch nearly killed me.) I thought I was having an allergic reaction to the cast, that it was too tight, and that it needed to come off NOW.

The young, shaved head, tatted up doctor tried to talk me down. He assured me that I was having a common reaction called "confinement syndrome." He said it's a form of claustrophobia. He refused to take off the cast, and basically begged me not to - 'cause I told him I'd do it my own damn self.

He gave me a prescription for Ativan to quell my anxiety. While I was at Walgreens filling the prescription, I also invested in a bunch of sterile bandages and tape... in case I couldn't make it with the cast.

So far, the cast is still on, but I feel better having the medication, bandages, tape, and a big pair of scissors by my bed. Just in case.

I'm going under the knife today

2007-01-19T07:51:00.001-08:00

Wish me luck.

I'll hobble back to my computer when I can.

It was for a good cause

2007-01-11T10:14:00.000-08:00

There's a local business here in San Francisco called Dark Garden. It is a store dedicated to all things corsetry. Yes. Corsets. I've never had any attraction to corsets. They look complicated - and painful. My only reference has been those I've seen on fetishists at the Folsom St. Fair

or Renaissance Faire nerds.

Neither is a particularly appealing demographic for me, so I'm not actually sure why I bid on the item at the silent auction for my kid's school. I bid on three or four things not expecting to get any of them, because I'm, you know, poor. Well, poorish. Imagine my surprise when I got an email on Monday letting me know I won the $200 gift certificate to the corsetry shop. Of all the things I bid on, this is the one I win? Sheesh.

So, Bink and I went yesterday evening to check the place out. The shop looks exactly like some place Stevie Nicks would shop. I explained to the woman that I had this gift certificate, but was clueless about corsets. She was really nice and walked me through their stuff. They are known, apparently for their custom made corsets (costing upwards of $700). Yeah, not for me, thanks. Let's work within the parameters of the gift certificate and buy something off the rack, shall we?

First step was taking my measurements. We went into the dressing room where she, armed with a tape measure, asked me to take off my shirt and bra. As I did, I thought to myself "Wow, she's just gotten further than my last date." She said "It looks like you've lost some weight recently." I was so happy. I've lost 25+ lbs. over the last six months or so. It wasn't until later that I realized that the only reason she would know that would be because of my stretch marks/excess skin. Eeeewwww, nasty. And oh, so pretty.

Anyway, she took the measurements and got a "sizing" corset for me to try. After she puts it on me, closes the front and laced up the back, I got my first look in the mirror. Oh. My. God. I looked freaking hot. Hello, waist! Nice to meet you. Even the kid was like, "Mom, that looks so good!" I was sold. Mostly because I had been expecting not to be able to move or breathe, but I could!

So, here's what I bought:

It is complicated to put on, so Bink was brought into the dressing room to learn how to lace up her mother's corset. That's why we have kids, right?

Of course, the biggest question is when on Earth, under what circumstances would I ever wear it?! I like it, though. I even tried my shirt on over it at the shop, and it made my regular clothes look better. Nice.

I know it's old...

2007-01-08T17:01:00.000-08:00

But I love it, and can't stop laughing each time I watch. Enjoy!

Happy New Year, y'all.

This is me

2006-12-21T15:27:00.000-08:00

Can you believe this shit? I have to wear this monstrosity until after the first of the year (when my insurance kicks in.) But wait - there's more. After that time I have to have surgery to repair my ruptured achilles tendon. That's right. Ruptured. It's as gross as it sounds. The surgeon thinks the recovery will take about six months, during which I'll be on crutches. Egads.

The silver lining (if there is one) is that I'll get to have a disabled person placard for my car. Trust me - if you'd ever tried to park your car in San Francisco, you'd know what a bonus that is! Of course, my car is a stick shift, and I need my left foot for the clutch, so that will be a challenge in itself...

Let's just say, this year sucked ass. I can't wait for it to be over.

Happy holidays to all...I'm off to my mom's. It's time. I haven't been home for Christmas in years.

Peace out, y'all.

Get lost!

2006-12-17T11:34:00.000-08:00

Via Vivi, you too are invited.

My sexual crime...

2006-12-13T22:27:00.000-08:00

buzzgirl will go to jail for ...

Resisting arrest while having sex

'What sexual activity will you go to jail for?' at QuizUniverse.com

So...

2006-12-07T15:17:00.000-08:00

Thanks for the well wishes, but unfortunately they didn't work :(

Not to be a tease, but I just am not yet ready to talk about it yet. Too much anger and confusion to be coherent.

And Doc, I'll assume it's all the pregnacy hormones that are making you loopy, 'cause unless I was reincarnated as Mary recently, I am not preggo! Of course, to add insult to injury, I just started taking the pill again a few months ago, and haven't needed it in two. So now I have a daily reminder that I'm not having sex. Neat!

Think of me...

2006-12-06T07:11:00.000-08:00

Hey y'all.

I can't go into detail right now, but I need a favor. I need you all to think good thoughts/send positive vibes/pray for me today. At 9:00 my time (6:00pm in France) I'll be embroiled in something most unpleasant. I need all the help I can get.

I'll let you know what's going on (and the outcome) soon.

Thanks.

Baby? Boom!

2006-11-28T15:36:00.000-08:00

Okay, people. What the hell is going on here? A number of blogs that I read (listed to your right) are by expats living in France. All chicks. Most of whom are either knocked up now, or have given birth within the last month. To wit:

Doc
Aimee
Agnes
Cara
Phillipa
Deb
Lee Ann

Have I missed anyone? I *did* forget someone: Riana.

What gives? Is there really nothing else for y'all to do? And just because you're not listed here yet, don't think I'm not anticipating announcements from you, too Madame K and Sam. You're not working on another one right now, are you Jennifer?

The "C" List

2006-11-28T13:07:00.000-08:00

I am a "C" list blogger.

What list are you on?

I don't cook

2006-11-22T10:45:00.000-08:00

It's not that I can't, I actually can. It's just that I don't. I swear to god that if I didn't own a microwave, my kid would starve. It's horrible, I know. But there are tons of cheap, tasty places to eat in my neighborhood.

Of course, there are occasions. Thanksgiving is not one of them. You'd think it would be, but it's not. At least not for me. I haven't been to my mom's for the holiday in at least five years. Maybe more. I don't remember. I usually end up at a friend's home - which is where we'll be again this year.

No, I'll usually only cook if I have an uncontrollable craving for something. Like brussels sprouts. Seriously. I know people hate them, and usually, I'm ambivalent about them. But sometimes I have to have them. Unfortunately, they're a bit labor intensive to prepare. I have decided, however, to share with you my favorite preparation thereof. It's not a recipe, per se, because I never actually measure anything (unless I'm baking.) But here goes:

Get a couple of pounds of brussels sprouts, some chicken stock, salt & pepper, a lemon or two, some good grated parmesan, a few cloves of garlic, some bread crumbs and a few slices of thick-cut bacon.

Prep the sprouts by trimming the ends off and cutting in half. Braise in stock until semi-soft. Drain. Fry up the bacon (we don't have lardons here, or I'd use them) and chop it up (not too finely - you wanna know you're eating bacon!) Chop up and sautee the garlic. Transfer the sprouts to a baking dish, season with s & p, mix in the bacon and garlic, mix together the breadcrumbs and cheese and sprinkle it on top. Throw the whole thing under the broiler till it's golden brown. Squeeze a little lemon juice on just before serving. Delish.

Of course, one could go veggie (or even vegan) by using vegetable stock instead of chicken, and omitting the bacon and cheese but, why, why, why??!! My life's motto is "everything's better with bacon."

Happy Thanksgiving, y'all.

The Kool Keith/Dr. Octagon Show!

2006-11-13T14:25:00.000-08:00

*I just realized that I left out the part of the story about how I got onstage/backstage/to the hotel with the band. Sheesh. I've added that info., so hopefully the story makes more sense.*

So, no one I knew wanted to go see Kool Keith/Dr. Octagon with me on Saturday night, so I planned to go alone. Actually, I was originally going to go with that chick I met at G's party (his other concubine) but it was too weird, and she started to creep me out...Naomi said her friend might like to go. I called him up, and we planned to meet outside of the venue at 8:00 (the show started at 9:00). We met up, got some Thai food, and went back.

We got some drinks and waited for the show to begin. The line up was supposed to be three acts, and then Kool Keith, who was supposed to go on at midnight. The opening acts were okay... but there were 5 or 6 of them. At around midnight (with no Keith in sight) I turned around, and noticed that Aaron (the guy I went with) was gone. That was weird. No goodbye or anything. Whatever.

Finally at about 1:15, Keith (as his Dr. Octagon persona) came on. He did two songs, and then Denis (another rapper in his crew) brought out a Victoria's Secret bag. "We got something for the ladies," he said, and started handing out various panties/g-strings to women in the audience. I got a really cute pair. Seriously - not skanky in the least, even though the price tag revealed that they were actually from Fredericks of Hollywood rather than VS. These are them! Same color, too:

Next he said, "All the ladies that got panties, come on stage." Six of us took him up on the offer. When we got up there, we were instructed to put the panties on - over our jeans was fine. And then we danced to the next couple of songs. A couple of us started to gather our things to make our way back to the audience, but were told that we could stay on stage the whole time and watch the show from there! Awesome. We set ourselves up at the back of the stage (where the booze was) and danced our asses off the rest of the night. The whole time I was onstage, I was thinking "I wonder if Aaron still here. I wonder if anyone I know is in the audience." Probably none of my old-ass friends were still awake! After the show, we were invited backstage to hang out with the band. And drink. Here's a fun fact: these "hard" rappers and old-skool hip hoppers' drink of choice? Stoli Vanilla! For some reason, that cracks me up. So, after an hour or so of hanging out, taking pictures, exchanging emails, having Keith leave a voicemail for el creepo, the facilities people asked the party to leave. So we all went back to the hotel. And drank. And talked.

At about 3:30 we all went downstairs so folks could smoke (it's a non-smoking hotel). I decided it was time for me to go. I tried hailing a cab. When Keith noticed, he asked why I was trying to leave. Did I have to work in the morning? "Yes," I fibbed. My ass was just tired. At this point he asked me how much I made, and offered to pay me to stay. "I'll give you your net, right now." What the fuckity fuck?! Was I wearing Eau de Whore perfume? I turned down his kind offer and left. I really needed to go.

All in all, it was a really fun, really weird night. Even if I did get ditched! What the fuck?

The best part for me, honestly was that all the guys were into me. Not just Keith, but the younger guys too. It was weird. I was the oldest woman there. I was the only Black woman. And lets just say that I was not the thinnest, either. I usually feel like the "homely homie" in situations where I'm with a bunch of other women. Unfortunately, my friends are hot, and I always feel inferior (I really need to get some ugly friends.) But Saturday night was all about my ego. It was nice.

So, just to clarify, I did not hook up with anyone (none of us girls did). Which frankly, I think pissed the guys off. Too bad.

But it was fun.

So, it's been a year...

2006-11-11T12:26:00.000-08:00

...since I started this blog. And what have I got to show for it? Bubkes (or however you choose to spell it - I've seen it several ways.)

Over the last year I've ended my celibacy streak. A celibacy not by choice, mind you, but one that was thrust upon me. So to speak. Perhaps as a result, I've gone crazy. Ok, to clarify, I've always been a little crazy. But I've gone off the deep end.

On the bright side, I've started seeing a shrink (we've only met once.) It's weird.

What else? Oh, here's something! I did the three month-long Colonix internal cleansing program. I can now happily report that while I may be as figuratively as full of shit as ever, I am now much less literally so. Ahem.

I interviewed for several jobs, accepted one, quit three months later, went to Europe, came back unemployed and didn't work again for five months until my current job just kind of landed in my lap.

While I'm neglecting to fill in the blanks of what my life has been like over the past four months (not good), I have also had some good things happen. I found a community of bloggers, once anonymous, now friends. Which is great, because I don't make friends in "real life" all that easily - though I have made one recently, which has been kind of cool.

I've been really bad about updating this thing - mostly because I've come to the point where I'd just be censoring myself anyway. I'm not sure how useful it's become to me. I have some things to think about, I s'pose.

Tonight, I'm going to see Dr. Octagon which should be weird. And fun. I hope.

And I am pleased, for the most part, about the mid-term election results. So that's something...

I've just switched over. Not sure I'm feeling the "new" Blogger. What do y'all think of it?

The Answer is Four

2006-10-31T13:59:00.000-08:00

The question is, "How many drinks will it take before the slutty Oompa Loompa will agree to do karaoke?"

This photo is from a party I went to on Saturday. It was the first night I ever rode in an ambulance (I wasn't the injured party.) Good times.

Ironically, I feel worthless...

2006-10-11T13:54:00.000-07:00

Your Life Is Worth...

$714,000

How Much Is Your Life Worth?

Not a "real" post...

2006-10-05T14:29:00.000-07:00

But I couldn't resist!

Last day of summer

2006-09-22T20:26:00.000-07:00

As summer officially comes to an end, so should my insane behavior. This was the summer of insanity for me. I often really wanted to write about it, but since becoming a member of the blogging community, and establishing "real life" relationships with some of you, I really can't tell you what I've been doing (though I have seriously considered starting another blog just to vent about it.) Suffice it to say, that it's been self-destructive, demeaning, and frankly unsafe. But that's over. I hope. I can't let my daughter see me self destruct.

I've survived my first week of employment! And guess what? I am writing this post from a coffee shop while my daughter is at Girl Scouts - on the brand-spanking new laptop I was given for work. Woo hoo!

I haven't written in a while, and I've been making little notes to myself of reminders of things to mention. Those notes are at home, so it'll have to wait.

E dumped my ass - TWICE (I'm still not exactly sure why), and G (still) considers me his fallback when his other plans don't pan out. I should have added "self-respect" to my Amazon wishlist.

I hate clauses.

2006-09-14T12:02:00.000-07:00

Perhaps it's karmic punishment for my tendency towards overly florid sentence structure; my relationships come with too many clauses. I'm really tired of having the conversation that goes "you are the most amazingly fabulous creature ever!!!" followed by a tragic conjunction. Yesterday it was me who added "but it doesn't really matter how fabulous I am if you're not sure how committed you are to seeing me." With G it was him: "but you don't fit some abstract idea of what my partner is supposed to be like (oh, and did I mention I just don't think you're that hot?)." There have been some hysterical ones: "But you're just not geeky enough." and my new favorite "but you live in San Francisco, why even bother?" I think I'm capable of being part of a relationship that can be contained in simple sentence structure. I hope I'm getting closer to figuring out what to do to make that happen. I definitely have to start being as picky about whether people are really available/feasible as I am about how smart they are and how much I like them.

Football and E

2006-09-11T12:07:00.000-07:00

I spent yesterday at E's place watching the 49ers get their asses handed to them by the Cardinals. I don't know why I was so surprised by the fact that he's a huge football fan, but I was. I don't think he prefers it over sex, but he did ask if he could go watch the game very soon afterwards. So we watched the game. And went back to his room at half-time. And then watched the rest of the game (we were a little late getting back to the third quarter.) I like him. So, of course there's a problem.

I saw G leaving a bar with another woman on Saturday. Totally random. I sputtered a "Hello." He just smirked at me and said "Hey, how's it going?" Dude. I totally wanted to vomit. It felt like I had been kicked in the stomach. Why? He is such an incredible asshole. Really a dick. With some serious issues. And I can't stop thinking about him even as I'm getting closer to E. He even sent me an email today (well, I guess he sent it yesterday, but I got it today.) It's kind of mean, actually. He's just rubbing my face in the fact that he's fucking other women (yes, I KNOW I'm a hypocrite.)

I cannot allow myself to be happy. I don't know how. On that note, I'll leave you with the lyrics to my theme song, "Only Happy When it Rains" by Garbage. By the way, Shirley Manson is one woman I would go gay for in a minute. She wouldn't have to ask twice. Of course, she's Scottish! Figures.

Only Happy When it Rains

I'm only happy when it rains
Im only happy when it's complicated
And though I know you can't appreciate it
I'm only happy when it rains
You know I love it when the news is bad
Why it feels so good to feel so sad
I'm only happy when it rains

Pour your misery down
Pour your misery down on me
Pour your misery down
Pour your misery down on me

I'm only happy when it rains
I feel good when things are going wrong
I only listen to the sad, sad songs
I'm only happy when it rains

I only smile in the dark
My only comfort is the night gone black
I didnt accidentally tell you that
I'm only happy when it rains
Youll get the message by the time I'm through
When I complain about me and you
I'm only happy when it rains

Pour your misery down...pour your misery down (x6)

You can keep me company
As long as you don't care

I'm only happy when it rains
You want to hear about my new obsession
Im riding high upon a deep depression
I'm only happy when it rains...pour some misery down on me (x7)

I miss this place

2006-09-09T23:33:00.000-07:00

I really do. But I've been going through some ridiculous crap lately, and haven't really been in the headspace to write about it.

I'm still around though, reading your blogs and your comments (I'd missed you Michael!)

Hope you're all well.

I know, I know

2006-09-08T09:32:00.000-07:00

I went to the bbq (with my friend Catrina.) It was cool. As I was leaving G said "See? We can hang out." I said "No, I don't think we can." The end. Met some nice folks there, though. Really hit it off with Natalie and Nathan and was invited to another party the next day - which was also fun. Until Natalie started telling me about her experience sleeping with Greg (which I had suspected.) Oh yay...something to commiserate about. Ugh.

Anyway, the new job starts next week. It's all official. I got my "offer letter", signed it, and sent it back. I'm really employed.

Lots of stuff

2006-08-29T11:54:00.000-07:00

I've been up to a lot. So much in fact, that I'm not sure I'll bother to write all about it. Highlights include:

Last Thursday, I met Tomate and Manuel for a drink (okay, I had three.) It was nice meeting Manu, even though he told me that my site has devolved into a "chick blog." Whatever!!

My phone rang, and it was my friend E. We had gone on a date a couple of weeks before, and gotten along well, but no other dates since...unless you count going to the movies. I don't count that as a date because I was at the theatre waiting for Catrina when he called. He asked what I was doing, and I told him. I invited him to come along, so he met us there. And then he dropped me off at my place immediately after. That doesn't count, does it? Plus, my hair was in a ratty ponytail, I was wearing sweats and a t-shirt, and no make up - obviously not expecting to see him. So, I don't consider that a date.

Anyway, so I invited E to join us, and Tomate invited her friend M to come along as well. I had such a good time with the four of them. I guess they're all, technically, "strangers" but it felt like I was with old friends. After we left the bar, we walked to Ti Couz for a bite to eat. At this point, M mumbled something about it not being his type of food and left...without so much as a word of goodbye. Which was weird, but we got to spend endless amounts of time deconstructing his odd behavior, and hypothesizing about its origins - which was entertaining!

As it was a school night, and getting late, we decided to leave. Manu, E and I walked Tomate to her train, and then Manu and E walked me home (where I gave each of them a hug goodnight - see, Manu? E wasn't a date!)

The next night, I had two tickets to see comedian Patton Oswalt. I'd just been given the tickets the day before, and hadn't invited anyone, so when we were saying goodbye the night before, I invited E. This, my friends, was a date. Our second official, though we'd gone out three times previously, if you're playing along. The show was great. Patton is really funny, and personable (he always hangs out after his show to meet/talk to/take photos with his fans.) He seems like a super-nice guy. After the show, we walked around North Beach for a while. I was hungry, but it was late, and not a lot of things were open. After stopping for one drink, I decided to just grab a quick slice of pizza. What to do next? Well. North Beach is known for its great proliferation of "gentlemen's clubs." When in Rome. E almost had a coronary when I said I wanted to check one out. But in a good way. I don't think I was supposed to know he was as excited as he was. So we decide on one of the, ahem, "classier" establishments (note: ladies get in free. Who knew?) It was so not what I expected. It was much sadder. Lots of lonely guys and bored looking women walking around in skimpy lingerie or swimwear.

As the talented "dancer" on stage did her thing on the pole, off came the top and out came the boobs. And then. Off came the bottoms. I let out an audible "Whoa! I was not expecting that!" E laughed.

We refused the many generous offers for lap dances, though one woman did push E's and my heads together and smoosh them into her boobs. I gave her two bucks.

Saturday, I went to the airport to pick up my girl! She has returned from her six-week adventure with Grandma! Here she is just as she stepped off the plane.

In the mean time, I've been offered a new job. It's with an organization that works to prevent violence among "at risk" youth. It should be good. Not only is it the most money I've ever made (which isn't saying much in a non-profit, actually) but, it's my first "Director" job title...so even if it doesn't work out, I'll have that on the ole resume. I start on the 15th of September.

One final thing that is stressing/freaking me the fuck out? I got an email from G this morning:

Yo Buzz G

I'm having a bbq on Saturday afternoon, come on over if you're free. (See, I told you I wanted to be your friend.)

What does this mean? I couldn't possibly go, could I?

HOLY SHIT! Maybe I should take E!!

Karma is a bitch

2006-08-23T20:07:00.000-07:00

Then again, so am I. That must be why, after ending it with the "nice guy," the "freak" ended it with me. Actually, I guess, technically, I ended it with him, but he certainly didn't object.

I needn't have worried about putting the brakes on my "casual" relationship with G.

Our email conversation went like this:

G: I think I am feeling a little weird about it...things have gone further than I intended, but I do reeeally like spending time with you...maybe we could chill out for a bit?

Me: I feel that way too, actually. I think things were getting too...intimate, for lack of a better word.

I'd say that you are my ideal guy that I, unfortunately, met under less than ideal circumstances.

So we should stop now. I am glad I met you, though.

Oh yeah...it occurs to me that I'm telling someone I don't want to see them again because I like them. Christ, that's retarded.

G: You're funny. Thank you for the compliment. I think you are really great... but I think you are probably right that maybe we should not see each other further. Honestly, my feelings about this have nothing to do with you, only me. I would be honored if you would consider me your friend, and if you would be happy to run into me around town and would stop to talk (rather than avoiding or ignoring each other).

Me: Holy shit! Are you seriously giving me the "It's not you, it's me" thing? Wow.

Well, I promise I'll try not to be weird if I see you around town. I'll try.

G: Dude, I'm totally serious, about it being me not you, and that I would like to be your friend.

Me: Whatever, dude. "Friend" might be hard for me, but I won't run in the opposite direction if I see you. Cool? Okay.

I'm not sure what it is about me that makes guys think they either have to marry me or dump me. Why can't we just hang out? Why can't we just date?

I've been dating A LOT lately (thanks to my online profile.) I've met some really cool guys, but who knows if anything is going anywhere? I'm of the mind that nothing has to be going anywhere...but that seems to be an unpopular stance. Dating for dating's sake is not in vogue, apparently. For me, it's practice. And I'm having fun. For now. (I really do like that G guy, though...plus, let's just say...he's supremely talented in a singularly focused way.)

I do hate that I'm so easy to get over and forget, though. I think that's what bugs me the most about Scottie and G - what the fuck? I'm brooding, thinking - nay obsessing about you, and you've already moved on? Harumph.

Let the games begin

2006-08-17T00:21:00.000-07:00

So, as I alluded to in my last post, I've been *kinda* seeing someone for a few weeks. Actually, I've been seeing several people, but he's the one I've seen more than once. Monday was our fourth date, and, well...I spent the night with him.

It's so funny. We live really close to each other, and we go to a lot of the same political protests and rallies, but had never met. We talk almost exactly the same way (Dude, that was awesome!), and even listen to some of the same randomly odd music. He's smart (an environmental engineer), plays guitar (he plays something appropriate every time we're together.) Once, after we "did it," he played Hot Chocolate's ”You Sexy Thing”. Tuesday morning he played me The Beatles' ”Here Comes the Sun”. Physically, he's totally my type, which is to say, kind of nerdy with glasses. So effing cute. And tall. I've always liked tall men - maybe because I'm a pygmy.

Here's the thing, though: we both went into this with the explicit understanding that this was going to be a casual thing. Monday did not feel "casual." I don't know what got into us, but we talked a lot. About politics, religion, music, sex...everything. All that before we even went back to his place (we met at a bar.) That's a problem, because I don't think that I am ready for any real relationship right now. I'm pretty sure he's not either, but I don't know - we haven't actually spoken since we parted ways Tuesday morning.

I really had no desire to be that girl, so I didn't call him yesterday. Today, I sent him an email that said "Thanks for hanging out. I had a really good time with you on Monday. Sorry I pushed you out of bed." Um, it was an accident.

He replied with "Thanks I had a good time too. I really enjoyed... [REDACTED!] ...your new leather boots." Ahem.

My first inclination is to call or write him and tell him that "Hey, I know that you and I seemed really serious about each other the other night, but let's pretend that didn't happen..." I know it's ridiculous. I think too much. I probably don't need to say anything to him.

And so, the odd ritual of when to call (or not), who should make the first move (or not) begins.

As my dear friend said when I told her about all this, "OMG! Dude! Straight people are so weird."

Update: I just realized that this was my 100th post. Woo hoo!

My new baby!

2006-08-14T13:35:00.000-07:00

Isn't she beautiful?

She looks just like me, don't you think? Follow me, here... Black and yellow. Like a bee. What sound does a bee make? There ya go!

It's Official!

2006-08-13T01:23:00.000-07:00

I am insane.

I've had two dates with a very nice guy. He likes me. He really likes me. He's sweet, funny, very nice. He's stable: he even recently bought a home in San Francisco - no small feat in itself. He keeps talking about things "we'll" be doing in the future. He's cool with my kid, but doesn't want any of his own. The problem? I am just not feeling him. It's ridiculous. Stupid, actually. But true. So, now I have to be a grown up and tell this great guy that I'm not interested. WTF is wrong with me? God knows, he could be the last guy that genuinely wants me.

Who am I interested in instead? No, Tomate, not the French guy whose email you translated for me. No. I'm interested in a fucking freak. This guy I've, ahem, "seen" three times. I am dying to go into detail about what makes this guy a freak (okay, "freak" is harsh - he's just much kinkier than I could ever be. I'll leave it at that for now.) My point is, he has no interest in me...clothed.

Do you appreciate the insanity, people? I don't want the rational, I only want the drama of being rejected, of being the victim. See the pattern? I truly believe I need professional help.

Cryptic

2006-08-07T10:07:00.000-07:00

Where've I been?

My birthday was a blast. Potent margaritas were consumed. I enjoyed the company of Tomate, her friend J, Catrina and Kati. Did I mention the margaritas? I think I did. After we parted ways with Tomate and J, Kati, Catrina and I briefly considered going to a movie, but ended up not doing anything. They left, and I went to Cha Cha Cha, around the corner from my place in the Mission. I knew I could drink free because the manager is a friend of mine.

The next evening, I was supposed to meet the fabulous Chantel for a cocktail at the Blogher conference, but instead, got sucked into the lesbian drama of Catrina and Kati breaking up after four years (I knew it was coming the night before...Kati didn't.) That night I spent watching "Raiders of the Lost Ark" with Catrina outside on a big screen in Dolores Park.

Other than that, I have been living a particularly self-destructive phase recently. I've been engaging in debasing behavior that is beyond the pale for me. I hope I don't die as a result. Really. I don't want to die, I just want to not feel pain. Just feel numb (no, I'm not doing drugs!) I'll leave it at that (hence, this entry's title.)

This past weekend, I met up with Inarticulate, a writer whose Diaryland diary I started reading, god, six or seven years ago. This was the first time we'd met. She's great! In addition to a seven year old boy, she has twin girls that are going to be 11 in a couple of weeks. I can't even imagine. I have one 11 year old girl, and at times, it's too much. Anyway, we went to the movies and saw ”Little Miss Sunshine”. I cannot tell you how much I loved this film. It was well written, the comedy was black and pointed, and it was perfectly cast. I loved it.

I took a meditation class last week. It was at the Buddhist temple a couple of blocks from my place. Trying to calm my mind in a less destructive manner. Meditation is really hard! I couldn't do it. I was talking to some folks afterwards who said that it takes a lot of practice, and that I shouldn't stop trying. We'll see. I'm willing to try.

My birthday gift to myself

2006-07-28T07:31:00.000-07:00

A new hard drive! Woo hoo! It really sucked not having computer access, but now the new hard drive has been installed and the operating system loaded, so I'm back in business. Unfortunately, there's still the matter of extracting all the data from the old drive. Back up your files people. Seriously.

Good & Bad: A short list

2006-07-24T13:24:00.000-07:00

Good

Spending Sunday in Dolores Park with friends drinking Prosecco, eating cherries, enjoying the free San Francisco Symphony performance;

Riding my bike at 8:00 am because it's too hot after 10:00 am to even think about riding;

Going to the post office to retrieve packages of birthday gifts purchased from my Amazon Wishlist (thank you cards are on their way!);

Losing 20lbs. on the misery/too hot to eat/bike riding diet.

Bad

Having to post to blog from library because your computer's hard drive died on Saturday;

Having one's excitement that a new hard drive (8 times larger!) was only $115 dashed because the cost of data recovery from the old hard drive is a minimum of $750;

Not having access to anyone's contact info to ask them to a get together for your birthday on Friday :(

That's it for now. Not sure when I'll be able to update again...my time is up!

"...And, scene."

2006-07-20T10:29:00.000-07:00

That's what we say at the end of a scene in acting classes.

Melodrama. What would my life be without it? I was a Theatre major, after all. Plus, I'm a Leo...apparently we have a flair for the dramatic - and oversensitivity. I deliberately turned off comments on the last post because I just needed to express how I was feeling.

Just a small aside: it seems that every time my daughter leaves me for the summer, I get hurt in some way. One year it was a horrific bout of bronchitis, one year I broke a toe. This year, my heart. What gives?! On the other hand, my daughter has left for the summer! And me with no plans.

I want to reiterate that I'm not a victim here. It's just a matter of people wanting different things. Happens every day. Not to get all Gloria Gaynor-y, but I realize that I will survive.

This realization has been made more clear through the supportive emails I've gotten. I really appreciated them. Truly. My most sincere thanks to bReal, Gabrielle, JennC, Jenny, and, most especially to Tomate for their kind words. It's amazing to have you ladies on my side.

So, in a way, this is a good time for this to happen... I'm starting a new year of my life. My birthday is eight short days away. If you glance over to the sidebar, you'll see that I have inserted (albeit poorly, since I have NO html skills) an Amazon Wishlist. It's right under the "Make a Donation" button. Check it out! It's rudimentary, only a few items. I really need to work on adding stuff to it. By the way, if you were mentioned above, you've given me enough already. As for the rest of you...

On one last, more serious note, being a part of the 'blog community' has been extrordinary for me. I had no idea when I started this thing that I would have had the opportunity to meet and "meet" so many incredible people, and learn about their lives. I also had no idea how much of my own I was willing to put out there. What a trip! Thank you all. For everything.

Stunted

2006-07-15T15:52:00.000-07:00

He doesn't want me. That doesn't actually come as a surprise - although it hurts. So much. There are some things I have no power to change about myself. Just basic "who I am" stuff. I am undesirable. This is not an indictment of him. He can't help the way he does not feel. In a small way, it comes as a relief to have some finality. I hated that anxious feeling each time I checked my email, hoping to god, please god, that he had written to me. Or each time I hear my phone sound with a text message alert gettng butterflies in my stomach. I now know I never need feel that again. There will be no more emails, or text messages, or a reply to the letter I sent. So, let's call it 3% relief, 97% merde. I appreciate that he was (finally) honest with me.

"When you were in Paris I thought that we were 2 people, single situation, out for fun. Complimentary, no? You were keen for more, I wasn't prepared to give more."

Actually, I think the fact that he wrote this to me is pretty amazing. Really, it's a testament to how good a guy he actually is. I think anyone else would have just blown me off completely. So, he's being humane. I'm being humanely euthanized. Like a dog.

The thing is, I wasn't "out for fun." I was surprised by him, and I obviously wasn't clear about that. I felt (feel) something for him that that I wasn't prepared for. But if he was to be completely honest, he'd admit that I wasn't alone. I saw it. I know he felt something, too. (This part isn't wishful thinking, by the way. We actually talked.) It is true, however, that I saw it go away, too. I did. And I'll always wonder why. I didn't say anything because I just wanted to be with him. I suppose I was keen for more from him, but if he knew that, and he wasn't prepared to give more, I wish he'd stopped sleeping with me. That was rather cruel.

He gave me the option of not being totally cut out of his life. "Please don't see this as shallow or cutting, just matter of fact. If you can truly accept that, then I would be OK corresponding with you. Otherwise I think it would be best not to." I don't think he wants me to be thoroughly gutted. I just am.

It was, I suppose, in the end my decision. I wrote him that as much as it pains me - and it does,tremendously because I know I'll never hear from him again - I have to admit to him, and to myself that I don't think I can accept having only a peripheral relationship with him.

I considered, briefly, lying to him and saying "Yeah, no big deal, let's keep in touch." Right. We become such good friends that he starts telling me about this really hot chick he's banging...not an ideal scenario.

I think what hurts just as much is the realization that my emotional growth is stunted. I feel exactly as I did when my heart was broken at age fourteen. Worse, in fact. I thought I had become so adept at protecting myself, at not letting anyone too close. I was so stupid. So fucking weak. I wish I could have just taken it for what it was. I'm just not sure why I couldn't. Or can't. I'm (supposedly) an adult. I should be able to handle this situation, but I can't. At all. I'm miserable. I really can't stop crying, and I don't know what to do. I would do anything if I could make him change his mind. Anything. But there's nothing to be done.

I know it's pathetic. I know. But I can't help it. I keep crying and I don't know when I'll be able to stop. I fucking hate myself right now.

I'm done.

Big girls don't cry

2006-07-10T14:25:00.000-07:00

I've never been what you would call an "emotional" person. Not really. This fact is of course belied by the fact that I often find myself welling up at cheesy movies - or even the occasional holiday-time commercial, despite the fact that I know I'm being emotionally manipulated.

I can't stop crying today. I can't even say why. I mean, I know why, I just can't say.

I think I need to take a break from this. From all of this. This blog, this everything. For a while.

Rest in peace

2006-07-08T23:58:00.000-07:00

Today was the first anniversary of my dog's death. To commemorate the event, my daughter and I rode our bikes up to the park and spread the remainder of his ashes.

Here is my favorite photo of my dear, sweet Mushdie, aka Peanut Head, Poo Poo Head, Mee-mush, Moody-Moo... Why is it that we never call pets or children what we actually named them?

I love you, I miss you.

Sony ad

2006-07-08T10:21:00.000-07:00

Is this racist? I think it screams "PlayStation Portable White...for oppression on the go!" But maybe that's just me. What do you think?

Football and French

2006-07-07T15:49:00.000-07:00

On Wednesday, I went to the Alliance Française at noon to watch the France vs Portugal World Cup match. It was a lot of fun. There was a big screen set up in the theatre, and the audience was made up of a large group of French folks who looked as if they were taking long lunches.

It is a sad reality how poorly received football (soccer) is in the United States. I think that if American women knew how high the Average Hotness Rating (AHR) of the footballers of the world is, this sport would take off in popularity here. I had no idea. Wow. Hott!

We watched the game on TV5, so (naturally) all the commentary was in French. I couldn't follow it very well, so at half-time I went upstairs and signed up for a conversation class. Not bad marketing on their part, eh? It worked on me!

After the game, I drove over to Oakland to pick up my girl who was returning from horseback riding camp. She had a great time all week - except, apparently, for mucking the stalls. Ha!

Today was my first French class, and it was not good. Not good, because I was the most fluent student in the class. Listening to the other students was actually painful. So, I've moved up to the next level! Yay me - though I still can't really write in French for shit, speaking is more important to me.

Sunday for the France vs. Italy final game, I was going to go back to the Alliance, but found out today that there will be a big screen set up outside at Dolores Park. I think we'll have a picnic. Start time is 11:00 am here in San Francisco - want to go Tomate?

Allez les Bleus!

How to celebrate Independence Day

2006-07-04T23:30:00.000-07:00

The lead up

July 1st

Tell yourself all day that you're going to clean up the apartment while the child is away at camp. Instead, go for a bike ride, to the market and movie rental store. Rent and watch Match Point because you've heard good things, and because Jonathan Rhys-Meyers is hot.

July 2nd

Spend all day in beautiful Stern Grove picnicing with friends. Try desperately to ignore the fact that your friend John from Manchester whom you came this close to hooking up with one night last year (that we, nor our friends who witnessed the nonsense ever mention again) is there with his 18 year old girlfriend. He's 32. Try not to be skeeved out by him. Fail miserably.
Dance your ass off in front of the stage to ReBirth. After show, hang out with band (whom you've known for years.)

July 3rd

Wake up way too early. Take opportunity to call the only other person you know will be awake at this unholy hour - your mother. Catch up on family gossip, and finalize dates for daughter's visit to grandma's. Purchase ticket online while talking to mother. Note that you will be childless for six weeks (July 17th - August 26th.) Wonder what you will do with all this time, and rue the fact that you don't really have enough money to go anywhere.
Later that night, decide to go out with friends to a dance party/club. Arrive at 11:30. Get in free because bouncer thinks you're cute. Meet friends inside. Dance your ass off...again. Overcome herculean obstacle of dancing/hanging out with two lesbians all night by being asked to dance by a few different men. Make mental note to inform men that they should never come up behind and start grinding an unsuspecting woman dancing as this may startle said woman and result in her reflexive castration of said man.
Get home by 2:30.

July 4th, The Big Day

Attend the traditional kick-off of the Mime Troupe’s new season in Dolores Park. Be surprised and oddly moved that even in godless, leftist San Francisco, some people still stand when they hear The Star Spangled Banner. Marvel at the cleverness and ballsiness of the show (as always.) Covet membership in their repatory company (as always.)
Walk home to retrieve your forgotten wallet so that you can buy a shawarma, and rejoice that all the restaurants in your neighborhood are open despite the holiday, because you (as is traditional when the child is away) have no food in the house.
After dark, walk back up to Dolores Park to watch the fireworks display over the Bay. See only the lower half of the pyrotechnics because of the marine (fog) layer.
Come home to hear the assholes in your neighborhood shooting off illegal fireworks all night long.

At least that's what I did.

Bink comes home from horseback riding camp tomorrow. Yee haw!

A little too close to home...

2006-07-03T14:04:00.000-07:00

This is creepy.

I like taking online quizzes as stupid, time wasting fun, but the results of this quiz were a little too accurate for my tastes:

buzzgirl took the free ColorQuiz.com personality test!

"Over-imaginative and given to fantasy or day-dream..."

Click here to read the rest of the results.

It's right on the money in regards to my "actual problem" and "stress sources." Yikes!

Also eerie is the fact that the first line of my online dating ad is "I daydream. A lot."

Strange, but true.

Pride bonus!

2006-07-01T17:18:00.000-07:00

Though Pride month has officially ended, I have found this photo of my girl, Bink from Pride 2001. I love it! She was quite popular that day:

Meme madness

2006-06-30T18:34:00.000-07:00

Holy crap, this is a long meme. But it saves me from actually writing an entry, right? Shamelessly swiped from Vivi en France.

1. How old do you wish you were? I had a lot of fun when I was 22 and 23, but I think probably 26.

2. Where were you when 9/11 happened? In bed asleep. I live on the West Coast, three hours behind New York and D.C. I was still in bed when I heard about it. I turned on the radio when I woke up and heard them talking about it. I assumed they had the facts wrong - this particular station is known for their idiocy.

3. What do you do when vending machines steal your money? I try banging on it. If that doesn't work, I get annoyed and pouty.

4. Do you consider yourself kind? I try to be.

5. If you had to get a tattoo, where and what would it be? I have two. One is on my shoulder. The other you'd have to know me pretty well to see! I'd get another one (or more.) The design would just need to have special meaning to me. There's nothing I'm particularly jonesing for at the moment.

6. If you could be fluent in any other language what would it be? French (duh), but also Spanish. I also love Italian.

7. Do you know your neighbors? I used to, but there's been a lot of turnover in the past few years. I think I'd recognize most of them.

8. What do you consider a vacation? Not having to get up in the morning, being in a city, state or country other than the one I live in.

9. Do you follow your horoscope? Not really, no.

10. Would you move for the person you loved? Yes.

11. Are you touchy feely? Only with romantic partners, otherwise, not really.

12. Do you believe that opposites attract? Oh, yeah.

13. Dream job? Broadway, baby!

14. Favorite channels? Food Network, Travel Channel, A&E, PBS.

15. Favorite place to go on a weekend? I almost never leave the City and County of San Francisco. How sad is that?

16. Showers or Bath? Shower.

17. Do you paint your nails? Almost never. I only get clear polish when I have manicures.

18. Do you trust people easily? Not anymore.

19. What are your phobias? Spiders. Heights. Enclosed spaces.

20. Do you want kids? Have one. I'm down for one or two more.

21. Do you keep a handwritten journal? Nope.

22. Where would you rather be right now? Paris. I could be more specific...

23. What makes you feel warm and safe? Nothing, really. How sad is that?

24. Heavy or light sleep? When I (finally) get to sleep, I'm a terribly light sleeper.

25. Are you paranoid? Why? What have you heard?

26. Are you impatient? Hell yes.

27. Who can you relate to? No one in my real life. Mostly fictional characters.

28. How do you feel about interracial couples? Ha ha ha...!

29. Have you been burned by love? Hell yes.

30. Whats your life motto? I don't think I have one...I'll think about it and update this if I come up with something.

31. What's your main ringtone on your mobile? It's the sound of an old fashioned phone "riiiinnngg."

32. What were you doing at midnight last night? I was probably online.

33. Who was your last text message from? Catrina.

34. Who's bed did you sleep in last night? Mine. Unfortunately (see number 22 above.)

35. What color shirt are you wearing? Reddish, maroonish. Burgundy? I don't know what the hell color this is.

36. Most recent movie you watched? I saw Wordplay. I loved it, but then again I'm a puzzle and word geek.

37. Name five things you have on you at all times? My glasses, my phone, my ATM card, my ID and lip balm.

38. What color are your bed sheets? Ha ha! The same indescribable color as my current shirt.

39. How much cash do you have on you right now? About ten dollars.

40. What is your favorite part of a chicken? Thighs.

41. What's your favorite town/city? New York City (surprise!) But Paris is up there, too.

42. I can't wait 'til... I own a home.

43. Who got you to join MySpace? Leah, though I'm not actually on MySpace as myself. I joined as my dog. He has nearly 200 friends – only three or four of them human.

44. What did you have for dinner last night? A carne asada burrito from Taqueria Cancun.

45. How tall are you barefoot? 5 feet 4 inches.

46. Have you ever smoked crack? Of course not! I've never even seen it in real life. Cripes, Whitney Houston'll tell ya: "Crack is Whack!"

47. Do you own a gun? No. I've never even touched one (what kind of American am I?)

48. What do you prefer to drink in the morning? Seltzer. I drink it all day long.

49. What is your secret weapon to lure in the opposite sex? My rapier wit? My stunning smile? Helloooooo?? If I had one, I wouldn't be sleeping alone.

50. Do you have A.D.D.? I don't think so, technically. But I do tend to go off on tangents...

51. What time did you wake up today? 8:00-ish.

52. Current worry? I have several...

53. Current hate? Iraq war, Karl Rove, Dick Cheney, Donald Rumsfeld, George W. Bush, apathetic, ignorant American electorate.

54. Favorite place to be? My mom's house. In small doses. When I've rented a car...

55. Where would you like to travel? Sheesh. Too may places to name, but the African continent, and Southeast Asia come to mind.

56. Where do you think you'll be in 10 yrs? I don't know. My kid will be in college (!) I'll be living in either New York or Europe - not alone, I hope.

57. Last thing you ate? Um, I got another burrito. They're cheap - and it's at the end of the block!

58. What songs do you sing in the shower? It varies.

59. Last person that made you laugh? Catrina.

60. Worst injury you've ever had? I broke my ankle walking across the street in Manhattan. I stepped in a pothole.

61. Does someone have a crush on you? If so, they're doing a mighty good job of keeping it a secret.

62. What is your favorite candy? Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. See, peanut butter. I am American, after all!

San Francisco Days

2006-06-29T21:00:00.000-07:00

Today was one of those days that made remember that I loved living in San Francisco. I've been here for so long, that now it's just "where I live," but today was a good reminder of what it can be like, sometimes.

It started early. The girl and I left the house at 6:30 so that I could drive her to Oakland to catch the Girl Scout bus headed for Calaveras County where she's spending the next week at horseback riding camp. That's right. I'm on my own for a week.

Then, at 1:00 this afternoon, I walked over to Café du Nord where Catrina and I went to a "private" concert (there were about 50 people there) with British chanteuse Corinne Bailey Rae.

She is adorable. I was so close to her that I could have reached out and pinched her cheeks. But I didn't. I had a couple of whiskey sours, though. I asked for extra cherries, so it would count as lunch.

The weather was fantastic, about 75 degrees (around 23 Celsius.) When we walked down to Church St. we saw KT, Catrina's girlfriend in her car. We flagged her down. We parted ways.

I decided to go to Chow. I took a seat on the back patio, where I ordered a glass of Champagne, and a piece of their famous ginger cake with pumpkin ice cream and caramel. Yum.

Afterwards, I made my way home - and back to bed. The drinks and lack of sleep hit me hard.

Just like the old days, living a life of leisure and poverty.

Hope springs eternal

2006-06-28T21:40:00.000-07:00

That's all I have to say, really.

I've been in a good, hopeful mood all day - even though I spent the day in Marin (yech!)

Catrina & Me at the Dyke March

2006-06-26T18:11:00.000-07:00

Yeah, we're dorks.

Pride weekend

2006-06-25T20:39:00.000-07:00

This weekend was the culmination of Gay Pride month here in San Francisco.

Saturday, I went to Dolores Park to meet some friends for the pre-Dyke March festivities. When the march began, we marched for the first four or so blocks until we got to the Casanova bar...and went in for drinks and to watch the ladies march by. You go, girls!

The march ended at Castro and Market streets, where there was a huge street party and celebration. I walked up there and met some other friends, Monica and Jeannie to go to a party at a friend of Monica's house.

We got to the party - in this amazing house. We walked in and I saw the hostess...a woman I had worked with years ago in a women's clinic. After we caught up, and I toured the house, I had a drink. It was clearly a lesbian party, and I was there. I felt like I was undercover - a complete poser. I was talking to my friends when two women came over to introduce themselves. We talked for a while and when one of them mentioned that she was from Quebec, Monica told her that I speak French. By the end of the evening, I had been invited to join their monthly social gathering, Francophone Dykes. I was torn. Should I disclose my non-dyke status? In the end, I didn't. Of course if they ask, I'll tell. But I don't think they'd mind - they said they often have gay men there too, so what's the harm of one straight girl?

By the way, if I was gay, I would never have to go home alone. Let's just say, the ladies love me. How much easier would that be?

Sunday was spent at the Pride Parade and at the Celebration at Civic Center. Here are a couple of photos of the parade:

Some good advice

The Gay Men's Chorus doing their thing

This is funny. City Car Share is a timeshare service for people without cars. This sign is a play on the old joke "What does a lesbian bring on the second date? A U-Haul!"

It was a great day. Large margaritas, cosmos and cape cods were enjoyed, and I got to meet my Friendster, Peaches Christ. Fierce!

Happy Pride, bitches!!

Sometimes I hate people

2006-06-23T14:59:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, out of nowhere, someone will do or say the stupidist thing.

I've been thinking about this since last Saturday when Tomate Farcie and I met for a couple of drinks.

We were sitting at the bar when a perfectly normal looking 50-ish guy sat next to me. I'm not even sure why we started talking, but we did. He mentioned that he was a lawyer. When I asked him what type of law he practiced, he said he defended corporations from consumers that wanted to sue. I probably should have stopped talking to him at this point. He moved here from Nebraska. He talked about how he had first visited San Francisco when he was in law school, and had fallen so in love with the City that he never even took the Nebraska bar exam, but moved here immediately and sat for the California bar.

All seemed okay, until he found out that Tomate is originally from Paris. He shared with us a story about how he had gone to Paris some years ago with a 70 year old guy. The guy got sick, so he was left to roam Paris alone.

He said he didn't speak or understand French, but people were helpful - he didn't know why people say the French hate Americans. I mentioned that unlike a lot of Americans, the French can differentiate between policy makers (Bush) and the American people in general. He had voted for Bush the first time, not even remembering who had run against him (Gore.) Again, I probably should have stopped talking to him at this point. But no.

I said "Moi, je parle un petit peu du Français, mais apparemment j'ai un mauvais accent." Tomate (politely) said that my accent wasn't too bad. This dude, however said, "It's hard for black people to speak French. To speak French you have to have sort of a "smooth" sounding voice. That's hard for black people."*

What the fuckity fuck??!!

Maybe it was the cocktails, or maybe the beautiful day, but I was apparently in a very diplomatic mood. I didn't tell him how retarded he was. I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, and even a way out of his asinine statement by mentioning that I'm from the West coast, and have only ever lived on this coast, so I really have no discernable accent (here in the US.) But he just repeated it. So I turned to Tomate and said (finally!) "I'm done talking to this guy."

It was weird. Weird that he'd say that to me, weird that I didn't smack him upside his head.

Stuff like that happens all the time. Things seem perfectly normal and then -BAM- out of nowhere, people come up with something completely out of left field.

Tomate reminded me that it was not unlike getting a certain text message from a certain person...I was happily going along thinking "La, la, la, he's so sweet, he likes me, yada, yada..." But no.

I fucking hate people sometimes.

*I'll assume he's unaware of the millions of black francophones. In fact, now that I think of it, aren't the majority of French speakers in the world black? That would make sense to me considering Francophone Africa.

Today was hot

2006-06-22T19:42:00.000-07:00

Record-breakingly, free public transportation hot. It was so hot that when I had a meeting today with a pretty high-ranking person at UCSF, she told me, conspiratorially, that she had taken off her hose, her bra, her shoes, and her blazer before I had gotten there, and only bothered to put her blazer back on for our meeting.

It's a day that just cried out for more 2-for-1 frozen Margaritas at Moby Dick with Tomate Farcie, but when I went by earlier, they were closed. Damn.

I am good

2006-06-21T11:54:00.000-07:00

How evil are you?

The marrying kind

2006-06-19T23:35:00.000-07:00

When I went out with that Irish guy, he said to me that he thought that if he were really interested in the "wife and kids thing," he probably would have done it by now.

I'd never really thought of it that way before. Maybe that's true for me too. My life certainly hasn't gone as I thought it might have. I never envisioned myself as a single parent, but here I am.

It's sometimes difficult dating with a kid. Often the problems are logistical, but usually the guys don't want to be "burdened" with someone else's kid. But see, here's the thing. I've been a single parent since conception. I went through the pregnancy/delivery alone, I've raised her alone, put her through school alone. As in all by myself. It hasn't always been easy, but I worked pretty hard, had some good (and some not so good) jobs, and have paid for everything and taken full responsibility for my decision. I don't need some guy to take care of us. I really resent the idea that some men seem to think single moms are out to get their hooks into them. Not the case.

Therein lies the problem, I think. I may be too independent. I don't know if I'd have the ability at this point to make any of the compromises I assume are necessary to make a marriage work. It bums me out, because sometimes I think I would like to be married.

I see it everyday. This is going to sound more egomaniacal that I mean it to, but...I see people who seem less intelligent, less attractive, less financially secure, have more kids, or who are older than me getting married. What the fuck am I doing wrong? I think I really may be destined to be alone. Which kind of sucks.

I might add that a large part of the suckiness of being single stems from the fact that you never know when you're going to have sex. I think that maybe the reason He-Who-Shall-No-Longer-Be-Named-In-This-Blog and I had so much sex is because we both realized we never knew when we were going to have the opportunity again. Of course, for all I know, he could be sleeping with a different woman every night. Alas, I will never know.

He left without incident

2006-06-18T19:06:00.000-07:00

And by "without incident" I mean uninjured.

Thank you everyone for your virtual support. It has meant a lot to me this past week.

Warning: this entry is full of bad mouthing, shit-talking and insults. Please don't feel obligated to read this post - I'm just venting, and will return to (hopefully) more pleasant discourse soon.

It was awful. I just don't like him. He's just not very...I don't want to say bright. It's not that he's stupid, per se, but, he is not someone I would prefer to spend a lot of time with at this point in my life. He's kind of a hick. I've known him since I was 15 years old. I'd like to think I've grown as a person since then. Learned new things, travelled to different countries, met new people - that kind of thing. Or at least taken an interest in such endeavors. Not so with him.

He was born in Tacoma. Will never leave Tacoma. Left the country once when we were 16 to go on the French exchange trip (though he didn't really speak any French, and had no interest in doing so, his best friend was going, so...) He refers to this trip ad nauseum, as if the mere fact that he ever left the country at all ensures that all will think of him as a Continental jetsetter.

His presence at her graduation nearly sent me over the edge. Dressed in jeans and a t-shirt (um, hello, it's an occasion), he sighed and "harumphed" mightily during the speeches that were given in French because he didn't understand any of them (nevermind the fact that it's a French school.) I was not pleased by the fact that after the kids all got their diplomas and parents were invited to go down to meet the graduates, he made his way down before her godparents and me. Fuck you, dude. He'd never even seen the school before (he last saw her the day before she started kindergarten.) Never mind the fact that I've paid the (outrageous) tuition on my own these past six years. Where the fuck does he get off? Asshole.

I refrained from talking (too much) shit about him in front of my daughter, however, it's funny that, in his world, he can say shit about me to her, and not think she'd tell me. Of course she'd tell me - I'm her ACTUAL parent, dickwad.

She's going to my mom's in mid-July. No mention was made of plans to see her when she's in the same town as him. I am glad that she finally got to form her own opinion of him - based in reality, rather than fantasy. If she wants to call him when she gets there, she has his number. If not, well that's okay too. At least she got two dresses and a pair of shoes out of the deal (plus untold amounts of junk food and candy that I'll never really know about.)

For me though, the important thing is that he's gone. Fucker.

We're all still breathing

2006-06-13T22:23:00.000-07:00

I'm exhausted. Physically and emotionally. It will take me a day or two to collect my thoughts. I'm sorry I haven't responded to the comments...I will! Suffice it to say: he's just not very bright. If I'm being honest, I think an additional reason I didn't want him to come to San Francisco is one of vanity. I didn't (don't) want people to meet him, and then look at me with the "Really? Him?" face.

Oh, the purported reason for his visit is that my daughter is graduating from CM2 (5th grade) to collège (middle school) and he came for the ceremony.

I'll write more later. It hasn't been going "well," but no one is bleeding yet either, so it's a win. Right?