On Spoons

These have been a lovely couple of days, internet. For one, my car isn't working so I have been basically stranded for the last few days. Stuck in the apartment, spending too much time playing online poker, thinking too much...blah, blah, blah. Then, The Kid and I break up. And that is a whole different issue.

The Kid and I were together for a little over a year. We started out pretty shakily because he was, after all, a kid and I was just starting a new chapter in my life and was sort of lost and aimless. He spent a lot of time lying to me about things he'd done, things he hadn't done, all sorts of ridiculous crap that I wouldn't have given a shit about either way. I was so angry at him when he came clean about all of this stuff, that I could barely see straight. I was so embarrassed that I had fallen for any of it, that I didn't tell anyone that he had made so much up. Why did he do this? I don't know. It was like some sort of high school bullshit. Or like a really bad storyline for a sitcom. Only it wasn't funny. I am not very trusting to begin with so starting out dating someone who can't even tell you that he hadn't been on the high school football team was...interesting. (sidenote: Like I would give a flying fuck if he had played high school football! Seriously???) We almost broke up before I knew his middle name.

But he started to get to me though. I liked his little accent and the dimple in his chin (which I normally hate on people) and I liked his smile and how genuine he seemed (although, in the back of my mind, there were still those times when I couldn't believe him). Things started to fall into place for us. We found a balance between my being an older, more experienced, independent control freak and his being a mature, naive, little boy and we fit pretty well. He eventually learned that there were things that I will not tolerate and I eventually learned that sometimes, I just needed to be patient. We had really beautiful times together and then we had some really fucking terrible ones. Ones that I don't think I would have tolerated from anyone else. But his age was his "get out of jail free" card, so to speak. I could overlook some of the jealousy and the need to control things, because I knew he just didn't know better, he hadn't been here before.

Over the past few months, I have started to feel lost again. Like I don't really know what I am supposed to be doing. I haven't been writing and I haven't really been enjoying anything. I have been stuck. As far as my relationship with TK, things have been pretty rocky. Our relationship has been a roller coaster for sure. And somewhere along the line, we have been derailed. No matter how strongly I felt about him or how hard I tried to make things better, nothing was working. At my age (I am not saying I am old...), I don't feel that there is as much room for error anymore. I feel that, if you aren't happy, then you have to do something to fix it. To BE happy. And yes, I knew somewhere inside me that I wasn't going to be happy with TK and I knew that he would never be completely happy with me. I knew that we were too different. I knew that we wouldn't last. But I still tried. I pushed those doubts away and I busted my ass to work through everything with him so that we had a fighting chance. But I think both of us knew that it wouldn't work.

Now TK is angry with me because my reaction to our breakup wasn't up to his expectations. I didn't cry or get upset because I felt like...this was what had to be done. I knew that he would be okay and I knew that I would be okay. I knew that, obviously, I would miss him but I also knew that we had to do what was best. And I stand by that. I can't say that I am not relieved. I am. I am relieved that we can both look back and say that we did everything we could. We worked on things and we couldn't fix it. Breakups are always sad. They are always painful and they always hard. But I honestly believe that we did what is right. He will find someone who he can love and who will love him and who will accept him for who he is. Someone he doesn't have to try so hard to impress. He has grown up so much in the time that we have been together and I am proud to have been able to witness it and possibly play a part in it. And yes, I am sad. I am not going to crawl into a hole and die or anything...but I am definitely going to mourn this relationship. I just hope that someday he will understand why I feel that sense of relief. I hope that he can just accept it and find it in himself. He has the whole world in his hands and he will continue to grow and he will be the most amazing person.

Anyway, it is bittersweet. I am exhausted from trying. I am hurt that he may never forgive me.

Where I am...

Well...I don't really know, internet.

I know that I don't like it. But I know that I feel relieved. SO RELIEVED. Maybe because I wasn't the one who did it. I find that I like it better that way. Because then I can play wounded. And then I feel relieved because the elephant in the room has moved on. And I can sleep. But, I don't like being the cold-hearted one. Because, well, I don't believe I AM cold-hearted. I just believe that I am a pussy. And I can't say things when I know they will destroy people. So I wait for them to try and destroy me. And then I feel sweet relief.

Anyone else (thinking about champagne)?

Overwhelmed

Lately my life has been a whirlwind of emotion and frustration. Between my job (and the fact that, even though I love what I do and the people I deal with, I am starting to dread it), my relationships, and my financial situation, I can barely keep my head straight.

 

I have a habit of holding emotions in and not really addressing my REAL issues. I take things out on people who don't deserve it and I misdirect my frustration and it comes out in places it shouldn't. It is my opinion that, lately especially, all this displaced frustration is causing everything else to sort of...explode. I am sad and I am angry and I am exhausted. More and more, I find myself getting aggitated and forgetful. I try to stay optimistic and centered and more and more I find that I can't.

 

Over the past few months, there have been family stressors like numerous hospital stays, broken bones, unexplained conditions and realizations that grandparents don't stay around forever (like I have to be told this, right?) and I have been on the verge of sticking my head in the oven.

 

I am not even going to touch on finances because, holy brokeness, Batman...I can't even begin to describe that mess.

 

Bottom line? I am losing it. I am starting to hate everything. And to be honest, internet, it isn't my best look. Hand over the antipsychotics.

 

First of May

Here are some little tidbits, internet...You know, because it is the end of the week...

 

1) If you type in 'emotionally inept" on google, my blog is the second entry. How sad is this? Should I just rename the blog? (It used to be number one but I have recently been replaced on the charts by the Urban Dictionary (???))

 

2) I thought that after almost two months, my bitterness about Ryan Adams marrying that idiot Mandy Moore would wear off, but it totally hasn't. It is like, Einstein marrying Kelly Bundy. And it makes me sad for humanity.

 

3) The Grateful Dad has discovered this blog. I don't know how and I don't know why. But I am fucking pissed. Really fucking pissed. Like, the kind of pissed that I can't even find words to describe it...except fuck. Obviously.

 

4) I have a kidney infection and it hurts. And I have worn holes in the carpet from my office to the bathroom.

 

5) Today's the first of May: (by Jonathan Coulton)

 

I woke up this morning
I had a scone and a large house blend
And then a little conversation with my squirrel and chipmunk friends
I said I'm sick and tired of winter
And I wish that it was spring
And then a little fellow named Robin Redbreast
Began to sing

And he sang
Ooh ooh child, what'd you think the cold winter's gonna last forever?
Ooh ooh child, now's the time for all the people to get together
Outside

Cause it's the first of May, first of May
Outdoor fucking starts today
So bring your favorite lady
Or at least your favorite lay
The water's not cold baby dip in your big toe
Maybe I'll see you in flagrante delicto
Grass below you, sky above
Celebrate spring with a crazy little thing called fucking outside

I thanked him for the information
I cried a little when he flew away
I watched an episode of The People's Court
And I tried to plan my day
I called up my old lady
She wasn't home so I called my girl
I asked her if she'd like to join me as I
Entertain the world

And I said
Ooh ooh child, I'll bring a blanket and I promise I will brush the ants off
Ooh ooh child, you're gonna like it when we're taking each other's pants off
Outside

Cause it's the first of May, first of May
Outdoor fucking starts today
So bring your favorite lady
Or at least your favorite lay
The water's not cold baby dip in your big toe
Maybe I'll see you in flagrante delicto
Grass below you, sky above
Celebrate spring with a crazy little thing called fucking outside

So we went to the park together
We were walking in the midday sun
We met all kinds of people and we
We fucked everyone
We fucked a lady who sells ice cream
We fucked a man with a tan Shar Pei
Everyone who needed fucking well they
They got fucked today

So come on
Ooh ooh child, open your mind and your heart, feel the spirit moving through you
Ooh ooh child, you'll feel the warmth of the love when I stick it to you
Outside

Cause it's the first of May, first of May
Outdoor fucking starts today
So bring your favorite lady
Or at least your favorite lay
The water's not cold baby dip in your big toe
Maybe I'll see you in flagrante delicto
Grass below you, sky above
Celebrate spring with a crazy little thing called fucking outside

 

 

The Week in Review...

The last seven days have been pretty much...the shittiest seven days in a row that I have had in a while.

For those of you who haven't had the pleasure of being involved in it personally, here is a little recap.

Friday: Spliff took off for a trip to South Florida to visit a dying relative so I was super stoked about having the night to myself. Ernge decided to give me the luxury of taking a vacation but then The Kid came over anyway, to give me a cigarette (I "quit" two weeks ago) so that I wouldn't pull all of my hair out. Alone time? No. Panic? Oh hell yes.

Saturday: I woke up at 8am, still in a panic, but also completely hung over from the bottle of wine I drank while trying not to smoke cigarettes. (Note: Do not try and replace cigarettes with booze. It does not work. And if you were thinking that you would feel more guilty for smoking than for drinking, you will find that when you wake up and your head feels like an elephant sat on it overnight, a few cigarettes would have been well worth it. I'm just saying.) I canvased the neighborhood looking my little (read: huge) bastard cat with no luck, so I decided to go and spend the day with Anthony and Clifftopher. This would have been fine if Anthony and Clifftopher were...normal people. But they aren't. And they had woken up and immediately started drinking beer. So by the time I got there, Anthony was already well on his way to a drunken stupor and Clifftopher's first sentence to me after he found out Ernge was missing was, "Oh, that sucks! We hit a cat last night on our way back to work. It wasn't yours though, he looked just like Spliffany's cat." Wonderful. Way to ease a girl's mind. Now I am trying to remember when the last time I saw her was too. Everything was downhill from there. I narrowly escaped sometime between the opening of the Captain and the purchase of bottle number 2. And then I spent the rest of the night either crying hysterically or, well, crying hysterically.

Sunday: I finally got my alone time. Only, I couldn't sit still long enough to enjoy it. I got up entirely too early and started to cook. Yep. 8:30 am and I am making mango salsa, a breakfast casserole, and contemplating guacamole. All at the same time. The kitchen looked like a disaster but I didn't have time to panic until the kitchen was clean, the bathtub scrubbed and my toenails painted. Then came the waterworks. They were so bad this time that I actually had to take ten minutes to gain my composure so that I could call Spliffany and tell her that I hadn't found Ernge yet. I never need composure to talk to Spliffany. That's why we're friends. As soon as I hung up though, I heard that familiar, shrill "meow" coming from downstairs, for the first time since THURSDAY. And when I ran downstairs, barefoot and across my gravel driveway, (don't mind my bloody feet) I was just in time to see his big, poofy orange tail darting in the opposite direction. I figured he wouldn't stay away much longer now, the little fatty must have been hungry. Crisis averted!

Monday: Relieved by the fact that there was a large orange furball sleeping beside me when I woke up, but exhausted due to lack of restful sleep because of all the utter panic, I went to work where the mere mention of a happy hour get together is completely frowned upon...because everyone except about 5 of us is a recovering addict. So naturally, the girls and I decided to head out after work to celebrate 4/20 at E-Street. Which was all fine and good until about 9 o'clock when everyone decided that it would be a better idea to turn happy hour into some sort of obscenely late evening. Spliffany went home, leaving me with the three girls who were left, two of whom were hitting on inappropriate boys and the other who was bitching about the other two. I, and this might come as a shock, internet, STOPPED drinking...In order to help preserve the dignity and safety of the youngins. And, if I do say so myself, I did a damn good job. I yelled at people about being silly and called a taxi but then faltered at the end of the night when I was too tired to argue about letting someone drive me home. And then, there were cops. And there was drama. But luckily for her, there was no DUI and there was a taxi just waiting to rescue us. When I got home at close to 3am, I wanted nothing more than to curl up next to my favorite boy, and there he was, purring at me when I walked into the room! YAY!

Tuesday: All that happened of note on Tuesday is that I was an hour and 15 minutes late to work due to the lateness of my evening and inability to WAKE THE HELL UP when my alarm goes off...and the fact that I had to pick up a coworker (whose car was on the side of the road from the night before) before coming in. I did end up going shopping after work and rewarding myself with adorable flip-flops and an awesome dress (whish The Kid later told me was unflattering...to which I replied, "I don't care, it's comfy." Because it really could be the ugliest thing in the world, but I feel naked in it...so...whatever...I look like a cow. What else is new? But just a note: If you are my boyfriend, you are supposed to tell me that I am a goddess. All the time.)

Wednesday: BAD. BAD. BAD. But also sort of a relief. I might actually figure my head out. That's all.

Yesterday: A huge, annoying blur of crap that ended at 9pm when I hurled myself into dreamland.

Today: Pretty much the same as yesterday only will hopefully end in a bottle of wine. And there better not be any missing cats when I get home.

A couple of things...

Realizations:

I am honestly too old to go out with people under 30. I am. I can't hang. And not because I feel the need to outdrink them. Because I feel the need to babysit them. I hate babysitting.

There is nothing like skimming through someone's blog and realizing that the entire post you are reading is about you. And then you sort of want to kill yourself.

I have a lot to say but am terrible at articulating things lately. And the people I need to be able to "articulate at" are either really impatient or entirely too patient.

I am about to eat an entire bag of Combos for lunch. What?

There are a handful of songs that, in the last few months, have become songs that I cannot listen to without sobbing hysterically. I am probably losing my mind.

Randoms:

I have been having dreams about hanging out with rappers. Last night I had a dream that Spliff and I had set up a campsite on someone's lawn and I had somehow gotten roped into babysitting Kanye West's 17 children.

I recently came across someone whose last name was Crapanzano. And when I started to describe it as being like saying, "I crapped my pants, in Italian", someone walked by and heard me and I believe that she thinks that this was the truth. I mean, I don't know how she factored in the "in Italian" part...but who knows.

Hannah does not like to be called a llama.

Spliff and I just planned an entire funeral, including procession and readings, for someone's favorite pen.

I have become addicted to on-line poker. Don't judge me.

That is all.

What's in a Name?

Well, internet, I've just had another infuriating converstation with "Boy to Avoid". I know, I know, his name speaks volumes about why I should...you know...avoid him. But he tends to email me every once in a while to say hi. And then, ultimately and inevitably, resorts to self-depreciating comments about how he is a "worthless bastard". I don't know about you, internet, but this is not the sort of conversation I care to take part in. If my sole purpose in your life is to tell you over and over again that you are only a mild idiot and that, though you are a tool, you are not completely worthless, then you should just go ahead and find yourself a hole to crawl into. I don't care if you have daddy issues and you think that every woman you ever loved victimized you. (One of which, of course, is me.)

 

Sidenote: I did not do anything to this fucktard except have a boyfriend who wasn't him. That is all. It isn't my fault that he was so "in love" with me that he couldn't take it and started fucking some tart who gave him chlamydia and ruined his life. The end.

 

It is a given that BTA has had some pretty serious self-esteem issues. In fact, we used to work very closely together and after our falling out, he eventually had to move to a different department and then take a leave of absence from work. A mental health leave. So, it is safe to sya he is a bit "unstable" but holy shit! I refuse to be his self-esteem coach. To be honest, I humor him by speaking to him because I am afraid he is too fragile to handle me saying, "honestly BTA, I think you are a nut-job and I don't think I ever want to speak to you again."

 

So, I am nice and cordial and when he says stuff like, "I am a worthless bastard", I usually just say that he shouldn't speak of himself that way. That obviously there has to be something good about him because he has a wonderful wife who loves him and takes care of him. To which he says, "Thanks. Thanks for straightening my unappreciative a$$ out and reminding me that I don’t deserve her."

 

Conversation? Over. Fuck you, BTA. Find a hole.