I may be old-fashioned in this thinking, but I've always subscribed to the belief that men are stronger than women. I mean, there's a reason why there's not a women's baseball or football team. The lines may be blurred regarding which gender wins mentally and emotionally, but physically speaking, I've always been able to say, "Fine. You win."
Well that and I've never done a pull-up in my life, so personally it's a pretty easy concession for me.
The glaring exception to this, however, is pain. Women are much more stoic when it comes to pain.
My father once had his toenail removed. After he was done crying, he took a week's worth of codeine and we found him passed out on the bathroom floor. After an unfortunate accident lifeguarding, and I too was missing a toenail. I simply put a Band-Aid on it so I wouldn't have to look at it while it grew back.
You want to talk pain? We get cramps that feel like someone is tattooing our uteruses from the inside. Every month. That shit hurts, yet we are expected to get fully dressed and go into work and have clever thoughts all day long whereas we really want to lie in the fetal position and suck our thumbs while guessing what symbol is getting inked on our insides this month. I would like to see a man deal with that.
But not Adam.
In my morning e-mails from Adam, he briefs me on his gym class and what new injury he sustained that morning. The first week I felt sympathetic for him. Starting a new workout routine is very painful. Moreover it's not a pain others can see: there's no cut, no blood.
By the second week, I thought, Wow, this guy kinda complains a lot.
By the third week I thought, I wonder if complaining is just his thing?
Yesterday I get my morning report from Adam. Oh, looks like he reinjured his hamstring. He'll just do what he's done in the past-- moan about it all day long and be fine the next morning.
By lunch I received an update-- he tried to "be a good boy" and iced his leg.
By my nightly e-mail, it seemed poor Adam's leg had worsened:
This was a bit much, even for a girl whose father ODs on codeine for a toe nail.
"You have a wound on top of a wound on top of a wound?" I wrote. "Give it a couple of days before you get all hypochondriac on yourself and start diagnosing yourself off the internet."
For the record, I would have said that to any of my friends had they pulled the same thing.
Adam was not happy with my response:
Any mention of pending plans this weekend were dropped.
Was I too harsh? Maybe. I opened the reply window and typed, "Aw, I feel kinda bad for calling you a hypochondriac." I stared at my words. No, better not use the H-word again seeing as how it didn't go over so well the first time. I deleted and started again. "Aw, I feel kinda bad about the teasing I gave you," I wrote. "Glad it is easily remedied."
"Hehe..." he replied. "It's ok, I'm tough."
I laughed so hard I drooled on myself.
~Friday, September 29, 2006
I may be old-fashioned in this thinking, but I've always subscribed to the belief that men are stronger than women. I mean, there's a reason why there's not a women's baseball or football team. The lines may be blurred regarding which gender wins mentally and emotionally, but physically speaking, I've always been able to say, "Fine. You win."
~Thursday, September 28, 2006
I should have some time to see you this weekend if I end up staying in town. I have [my daughter] overnight Fri and may take a last minute trip somewhere on Sat - Mon/Tues though. I'll let you know.
I'm not sure what my plans are this weekend-- I'm going out of town on either Friday or Saturday night. Maybe we can catch up another time. Keep me posted.
In case you weren't keeping score, that would be a plus one to me. I really am going out of town this weekend, but it felt good to say it, especially to his "if I can't find anything better to do this weekend" invite.
I wonder how this would play out according to Indy's rules?
~Wednesday, September 27, 2006
I have some very supportive friends. I should feel like a very lucky girl, right? However, if one more person brings up Adam, I'm seriously going to lose my cool.
- He still e-mails me every day.
- He has not mentioned us going out again.
- Hell if I'm going to be the one to bring it up.
- My guess is that he's pursuing someone else and is keeping me on the back burner.
- Life on the back burner is pretty effing boring.
- I'm okay.
- I'm okay, really.
- Stop asking me if I'm okay.
- That is not happening either.
~Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Last night for dinner I ate this:
Tonight for dinner I plan to eat this:
But don't worry, I'm not so broke that I have to give up these:
That's right, I went on a shopping spree: a six hour free for all. I woke up Saturday morning and decided I needed new bedding. To quote Field of Dreams, "If you build it, they will come." Before you get all sassy on me and declare you saw the episode of Sex and the City where Miranda tries to improve her bed karma by making her bed a nice place to be-- well that's exactly what this is. But you should know me as not being cliche enough to copy a TV show, hence my Field of Dreams reference. If I build a nice bed, the boys will come. (Not a euphemism. Well... partial euphemism...)
So here it is-- my new bed:
You are looking at a new down comforter, new duvet cover, new blanket, new sheets (oh my god, my butt is still bleeding with what they charged me), and a new down mattress pad. Lovely 500 thread count everything. Mmm.
My colors are chocolate and mint, which makes me dream of cookies. Not necessarily a bad thing.
Then on my way out, I walk past this mirror which I believe ties my living room together. Well, that and it was 90% off. So $30 later and my living room looks like this:
And while I am eating my peanut butter and canned soup for the next two weeks, I will be wearing these:
(I really need a new name for them, last thing I need is to attach his name to my precious shoes...)
And if I ever get depressed about eating only canned soup, I can just slip on my other pair of new shoes:
Oh yes ladies, those are Guess by Marciano.
But who really needs to eat when you have shoes like these?
Love, Sarah at 11:28 AM|
~Monday, September 25, 2006
Married Work Guy flat out propositioned me today. I was eating my Healthy Choice frozen lunch at my desk and this little awkward moment popped on my screen:
I don't think being a dirty mistress will help with my dating karma.
I tried the married thing once. I was 23 and he was... I have no idea how old he was. He was older. We worked together and got along extremely well. It started out with us going out to lunch together; work affairs always start with lunch. Our relationship climaxed when we decided to go out after work to celebrate the end of the month. We sat at my favorite bar where I matched him drink for drink. A big man, he had a very high tolerance.
I remember making a quip about how he was married and then feeling embarrassed when he shoved his ringless finger in my face. He said he didn't take off the ring for just anybody. When the bar closed we went back to my place and then into my room. In the darkness we made out until his clothes were gone and I was gone and before coherent thought came, he did.
He immediately rolled out of bed and into my bathroom and began cleaning himself up. I remained under the sheets, trying to keep the bed from spinning underneath me. He complained about a stain on his boxers and how he had to hide it from his wife. He never returned to bed. He never returned the gesture and he never said goodbye.
It was then I learned that affairs with married men are not about you, they're all about him. It's not about how much he seems to like you, it's not about how beautiful he says you are, and it's certainly not about how unhappy in his marriage he claims he is.
Married Work Guy conceded that I do deserve a relationship with someone. He said until then, there was nothing wrong with something casual. When I said I couldn't, he told me that I seemed scarred. He's right-- I am scarred.
But I'm no dirty mistress.
~Friday, September 22, 2006
I would just like to announce that I'm completely pissed(!). Lunch margaritas and all of a sudden I feel much better with my beau situation.
How I'm going to get through the next four hours at work, however, is another question.
Spinning. Screen. Tequila.
Love, Sarah at 1:37 PM|
I don't think I've ever used that word to describe myself before, but there it is. I am nonplussed.
And a bit cold.
Adam e-mailed me three times on Wednesday and has since remained in consistent contact with me. I have no idea what changed his recent skanky behavior, but I have my guesses.
That's how I feel towards him. I grieved for him on Sunday and once I close someone off to me, it's nearly impossible to let him back in. I have followed his lead with the communication frequency, but his letters mean nothing to me. I don't know what to say back; I have nothing to say back.
Adam: (via e-mail) My life is WAY too busy. Being married in a dull, unloving relationship was much easier in many ways!In his 180 he's been kind and sweet, but after all they're only words.
~Wednesday, September 20, 2006
"OH. MY. GOD."
N and Married Work Guy ran into my cubicle, "What's wrong!?"
They're genuinely concerned for me; I laughed. "Oh, um nothing. It's just that Adam e-mailed me."
"Exactly how long has it been since you've heard from him?" N asks.
"A week ago this morning. I sat on the e-mail for a couple of days before responding to sort out my feelings though."
I opened the e-mail and quickly scanned for a Dear John type letter. It was not one.
"A week since you've heard from him? That's too long."
"No shit." I scanned the e-mail again, "'I guess I've beat you on the being absent thing!! Sorry...' What the hell is that supposed to mean?!"
"You sound angry."
"You know what? I am! I was fine when I thought things were over. I was strangely okay with it. Now he's dragging me back in!"
"Maybe the 'being absent thing' is referring to the silence between you two and how he was the one to break it," she supposed.
"I wasn't going to be the one chasing him! When we were together he would receive text messages from the girl he dated before me. He would laugh and delete the message without responding. There was no way I was going to be that girl! Have him laugh at me with someone else! I have more pride than that!"
"Good for you."
"You know what? I have no idea what to do here. I have never been in this situation before. Usually when they leave, they don't come back."
I sat down and opened up the reply box. I couldn't even type in a greeting without having to run to the bathroom. Nervousness makes me have to pee. After five trips to the bathroom before noon, I decided to put off my response.
Again at lunch, I tried again. N popped over to my desk and tried to help me. "Be sure to call him out on his absence," she said.
My mind went blank. "I need shoes," I said.
"I need shoes. New black winter heels." I was so far away in my head, I wasn't even looking at her.
"What are you talking about?"
I closed the window again and got up from my desk and walked out of the office. I drove to a shoe store and promptly bought new black winter heels.
Adam just cost me $86.35. And I still don't know what to say.
This girl had some nice things to say about me.
I thought it was pretty wonderful too.
Her review of me is pretty rewarding because her judgment isn't clouded by my good looks and fabulous smile.
Yeah, this may have gone to my head a bit.
Anyways, check her out. She obviously has excellent taste.
Love, Sarah at 9:09 AM|
~Tuesday, September 19, 2006
The boys in my office knew something was off Monday when they didn't hear my usual chatter through the cubicle walls. As one of the two single people in the entire company, my personal life has become an open book for all to enjoy.
Or to laugh at. Usually the latter.
The boy opposite of me, who has recently been spending his days sending me dirty messages through MSN, began yet another IM conversation.
"What's going on with you and your gentleman caller?"
My face reddened at my desk. "I slept with him and never heard from him again," I typed.
I heard him sigh through the partition. A lot of men at my office were encouraging of the older man angle I had taken since most of them are Adam's age. Unfortunately no one foresaw the I-haven't-dated-since-early-90s trap.
"I'm sorry," he wrote. "Someone needs to update him on dating rules. No one does that to get sex anymore."
"I'm pissed I've become a cliche. No. Scratch that. He's the cliche."
"Honesty will get you a lot further these days."
"You know me, I'm not opposed to casual sex."
This is always rewarded with a smiley face from a man.
The guy who spends his days throwing cranraisins and balls of paper at me walked across the office and came into my cubicle and gave me a hug. "Don't be down," he whispered. He disappeared and soon I heard typing again.
Another message from him popped on my screen. "If I wasn't married, I'd totally date you. You're an awesome girl."
I know it was meant be taken as a compliment, but I hear that a lot: If I wasn't... It feels like constantly coming in second place. Always the runner up. Always the Miss Congeniality.
"Let me try and set you up," he types.
I sighed. "I just can't date anymore. I'm tired. I don't have the energy."
Friday N tried to set me up with one of her friends. He was overweight and had no direction in life. Mediocrity is perhaps the most draining element of all.
Today Mr. Dirty Messenger/Thrower of Objects wandered to my desk again.
Second place will just have to do for now.
Love, Sarah at 5:24 PM|
~Monday, September 18, 2006
I'm not one to use my blog to quote song lyrics, but I died laughing this morning on the way to work when I heard this off my Fall Out Boy album,
Love never wanted meYou know, the crazy maniacal laugh where you end up questioning your sanity afterwards.
But I took it anyway
~Sunday, September 17, 2006
It's Sunday night and I'm left to my own devices again. Sure, Adam said he'd be busy this weekend and to not expect to hear from him, but I still wanted something. A five minute phone call. Hell, a response from my e-mail last Thursday would even be nice. I know a lot of you are rooting for Adam, but... this is just getting too hard. I don't like disappointment.
What this is boiling down to is how much he likes me. Schedule or no schedule, I fear the answer is, "Not enough." Not enough for him, or not enough for me-- I don't know which-- but either way it's still not enough.
I'm melancholy tonight as my phone sits on my night stand. It's dead silent even though I'm shooting it mind waves to ring even as I write this. I refuse to show any emotion of my disappointment, but instead let it leak onto my keyboard.
When I get like this-- doe eyed and numb-- I always think back to a post I once read on ThisFish.com. Heather, the author, went on vacation and a friend of hers filled in for her. He tells the story of how they transitioned from lovers to friends and as she's crying on the sidewalk, he says to her, "But I'm just a boy! I'm just a stupid boy!"
That's the line I remember. But he's just a boy. He's just a stupid boy!
Don't cry, Heather.
Don't cry, Sarah.
Strangely, that line brings me a lot of comfort. I'd like to think that all guys think that about themselves, that they're not worthy of tears.
About a half hour ago I was watching TV in bed and my mind wandered. I choked back a sob, surprised by the noise I made in the first place because it's easily been six months since I've cried, and began my mantra: But he's just a boy. He's just a stupid boy!
I repeated the words faster and louder as I got up from bed and ran into the kitchen. I opened the freezer and poured myself a half shot of vodka and chose instead to focus on the burning going down my throat.
~Friday, September 15, 2006
My blog is so material specific that most readers don't really know about the person behind the dating disaster. Here are my 100 things about me:
- I have one brother. I also have 3 step-brothers and a step-sister. I also have 3 step-half siblings. That makes 9 of us. 9
- I refer to all of them as simply my brother or sister in hopes that we could be closer
- It is not working
- My parents divorced when I was 6
- I do not remember them being together
- My father introduced me to my new family by taking me to see A Christmas Carol. He pointed to the stage where they were all performing and said, "That's your new brother," "That's your new sister," etc
- I had an interest in acting ever since then
- I was in a thespian troupe in high school and was in 3 plays, one being the lead
- I was an extra in "Road Trip" and met Tom Green and Seann William Scott. You can see me walking behind Brekin Meyer and Amy Smart kissing at the end of the movie
- My stupid brother was also in the movie and he has more screen time than I do. I think he did it to prove he's better than me
- I love to start little craft projects. Finishing them, however, is another story
- I sing in the car with abandon
- I also love karaoke
- I used to be really bad at it, but I can hold my own now
- So far I've been booed once and had a lemon thrown at me: I finished both songs smiling
- I consider this to be an accomplishment
- My mother never taught me anything girlie like applying makeup or shaving and I wish she had
- I never dated in high school
- I went to my senior prom with another girl (as friends)
- When I got to college, I dated all. the. time
- I was only truly single for 3 weeks of my college career
- I've been in love at least once in my life, the others I'm not so sure about
- I've been coloring my hair since I was 11
- It is naturally a grey mousy brown--the ugliest color ever
- I rarely dye my hair the same color twice
- Blondes really do have more fun
- I had my tonsils removed when I was 19
- I am a really possessive person
- I have had 5 full-time jobs since I was graduated from college
- When people laugh at my jokes, I'll repeat the punch line
- Even I find this habit annoying
- I don't wear makeup in the summertime because I think freckles are beautiful
- I was in a really serious car accident when I was 17. I'm lucky to be alive
- Because of this, I have a dent that can be seen when I wrinkle my forehead
- I played the violin for seven years
- I went to Italy after I was graduated from high school
- I still can't believe my mother let me go. I think it was because my friend almost died my senior year and she went
- I lost 3 good friends my senior year in high school within 2 months
- I was very angry at God
We're getting back on track. It's a slow process.
- After the third death, I became a recluse, dropped all my friends and after school activities and gained 20 pounds
- I lost the weight almost immediately when I started college
- I was arrested at 19 for possession of alcohol. I was never convicted
- I took an extra semester to get through college because I drank too much
- My parents still don't know about that extra semester
- When I was 21 I hurt my forehead again. 11 stitches, alcohol related
- My parents don't know that real story either
- I hope men find scars sexy because I have a faint one on my forehead
- Most people don't even notice it anymore
- I don't drink that much anymore. This relieves me
- I'm convinced that everyone will pass through my life. No one will stick with me
- I don't think anyone will love me enough to ask me to marry them
- My father was the first man in my life who left. So far every other man in my life has also left me.
- My mother says this is a coincidence, but I don't believe her
- I can't forgive my mother for my childhood. I've tried
- My family is very rich, but I am not
- I'd take independence over money any day
- In addition to my blog, I keep a paper journal as well
- I have a Siberian Husky
- I am a published writer
- I've written for two different newspapers, both critically acclaimed
- I wish I was serious enough to put an effort into my other writings
- I wear my hair in a pony tail most of the time
- I love sushi
- I want to see Hong Kong and Thailand before I die
- I drink cheap beer when I'm alone, but nice beer when I'm out in public
- I can be pretty selfish except when it comes to men
- I hate to 69
- I lost my virginity when I was 19
- My roommate was less than three feet away. She never knew
- I'm fairly secretive if you can't tell by now
I stopped counting the number of men I have slept with when I realized it doesn't matter Fine, I just counted. 13
- I started getting anxiety attacks over men and commitment after my last relationship ended
- The sight of baby stores give me chest pains
- I do want that stuff, I just don't want anyone else to know it in case it never happens
- I don't like to fail
- I should wear glasses all the time, but I don't
- I'm not very patient
- However, for the ultimately annoying combo, I am very persistent
- I blame it all on the being the youngest. I'm used to getting my way
- I am a great story teller
- If sailors rode in my car with me, they'd be offended by my swearing
- My capacity to love is so big, it often scares me
- My smile is very expensive, but well worth it
- I scratch my neck when I concentrate. The marks will stay for hours
- I bite my nails when I'm nervous
- I'm silly. I hope that never changes
- I laugh when I lie
- I'm in perpetual need to lose 10 pounds
- I honestly believe if I was thin enough, I could have any man I want
- My BMI is 21.3 which means I'm of normal weight
- Strangers stop me on the street to compliment my butt all the time
- I don't believe men when they say I'm beautiful. If they're better looking than me, I think they just want in my pants. If they are uglier than me then I don't think they know what they are talking about
- I'm cold natured
- I'm addicted to Diet Coke
- I'm happy when I'm single and I'm happy when I'm in a relationship, but I'm generally not happy when I'm dating around
- My laugh is contagious
- I love my life right now. Love it
~Thursday, September 14, 2006
Sarah: Want to know something really annoying?I don't know why I feel the need to be so mean to the people I like the most, but I do. I prefer to think of it as being playful, but it's really a horrible thing. There's no way around it.
Adam: What's that?
(Pause. Horrible noise ensues.)
Step One: Wait until you're in a position of physical power. You have to be able to grab your significant other's face without him or her being able to block you. I think the easiest way is to sit on top of your
Step Two: When his or her guard is down (ie you're making out/thinking about getting naked) Hover your head above your partner's. Results work best when the partner's mouth is closed.
Step Three: Cover his or her nose with your mouth and blow. Hard.
Step Four: Remove yourself from immediate vicinity of your partner as he or she will be thoroughly confused/disgusted.
Step Five: Laugh hysterically.
What you accomplish is you fill his or her lungs with air and, as they fill up, he or she gurgles before involuntarily opening the mouth the expelling the extra air.
Adam: What the hell did you just do?!What to do if someone else tries to do this to you: Blow your nose. Harder. He or she might even get a booger :)
Sarah: (still rolling over laughing) I'm not telling!
Adam: That was disgusting!
Sarah: (laughing so hard she cannot make an audible sound)
Adam: You know I'm going to have to get you back for that. 83 times worse.
Sarah: That's not very Buddhist of you.
Adam: Yeah I'm not Buddhist in that area. We'll see who's laughing harder. You just wait.
~Wednesday, September 13, 2006
As I hinted from the last post, I don't know if I'm going to see Adam anymore.
I realize that it will be an insanely stupid move on my part if I do this, but...
Hello, Miss Have Your Cake and Eat It Too.
Hey, conscience, what's up.
You're an idiot. Just so you know.
No buts on this one.
He doesn't have time for me.
You're a selfish c___.
Don't talk to me like that!!
I'm pissed off at you!
Seriously, I got another e-mail this morning that basically said, "Don't plan on seeing me this weekend either."
He didn't say it like that.
But that's what it meant.
He has completely over-extended himself and he can barely make it through the day. He's doing this with minimal complaining.
He still whines; it's kinda annoying.
You are not understanding of his needs AT ALL.
Maybe I would feel differently if he said things like, "I'll make it up to you next week."
Seriously, how girlie are you being right now.
I need to feel secure and I'm not getting that out of him.
But he's amazing otherwise. Top notch.
But I hate spending time wondering about him. Wondering if he's feeding me lines. Wondering why he doesn't try to fit me in that schedule.
I can't believe you are giving him crap about his schedule. If you haven't gotten a whole night's sleep in weeks, do you really want to square off time to spend with someone, or do you want to veg and sleep?
Then you can't expect anything different from him. He says it will be different when he's done with the early morning gym class.
What if that's a line? Do I really want to hang around two more weeks to find out if I've been duped?
Uh, what else are you going to do, Princess? Date all those other boys?
Just Monday he talked about fancy restaurants and taking you for ice cream.
But his actions aren't there.
He can't do that right now with the gym thing.
He couldn't go out with me on Friday.
BECAUSE HE HAS HIS DAUGHTER. WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH YOU!
It just seems like he has time for everything else but me.
I'm sure a lot of other things are slacking. Besides, he's known his friends a lot longer than you. It's only been a month, quiet down.
If only I had some assurance...
Assurance of what? That he's not going to leave? It's a free world, Baby. That's just a risk.
I just want to feel special.
There has been no communication between you two. You don't open up at all. You'll laugh and giggle over things you did that day, but the things that matter-- the things that make you you-- he knows nothing about them.
I can't get a chance when he's always this busy.
Gym will be over in two weeks.
Fine. He can have the two weeks. But if nothing changes then, I'm out.
That's fair. But you're still a bitch for not answering his e-mail this morning. You slept with him and now you're ignoring him.
I just wanted to sort out my thoughts.
You just don't want to get rejected, so you're trying to reject him first.
You know what? That's EXACTLY what this is. So what? What are you going to do about it?!?!
Yeah, that's what I thought.
~Tuesday, September 12, 2006
It was Monday afternoon and I had not heard from Adam since Friday morning. But I had jumped and decided not to worry about it. I had faith in... something. Yes, I had faith in myself. Barring a few incidents where I wandered into the kitchen to stare at my alcohol supply, Adam hadn't stolen many of my thoughts.
"I get the feeling that he's disappearing," said N over lunch.
"Yeah, me too. I don't think I did anything wrong though." I grabbed another piece of bread from the basket between us and picked off the seeds. "I think something else is occupying his mind. It may be another girl; it may not be."
"Well if he doesn't contact you today, e-mail him in the morning and make sure you're still on for Tuesday."
"That sounds fair."
I like going to N with relationship advice. She thinks like I do. Best of all, she has the same moral compass as me-- the unmoral kind.
"And remember, if you don't think things are going to work out," she advises, "go ahead and sleep with him. That way you'll at least get your jollies."
Yes, I definitely like the way N thinks.
Just when N and I decided to employ Operation Treat Him Mean and Keep Him Keen, Adam sent me an e-mail. When I should have been happy to hear from him, I was a bit disappointed. It was too informational and not flirty. "It doesn't earn a response," I hollered over my cubicle wall at N.
Four hours and a half a bottle of wine later, I sat in front of my monitor at home and studied the e-mail for the 10th time. I looked for hidden messages, either good or bad, but of course there were none veiled behind such lines as "How was your weekend?"
I hit reply and simply wrote, "Why don't you give me a call after class and I'll tell you about it?" I emptied the wine glass in my mouth and hit send and walked away.
By the time Adam called, the wine bottle was almost empty, my legs were freshly shaven (not the best idea combining the two activities but I escaped unharmed), and I was wearing my pjs that made my ass look fantastic.
"Where are you?" I asked.
"On my couch."
"Let's hang out."
"Ok, come on over."
And I got my jollies.
~Monday, September 11, 2006
Five years ago last night my first love logged into my e-mail account and read my e-mail. Apparently he'd been doing this for quite some time. And he would continue to do it for another six months after we finally broke up. He found an e-mail from a guy I went to high school with who wanted to know what I'd been up to the past few years at the university.
I was driving over a bridge when he called. I can still point out the exact place on the road.
He yelled and screamed at me unintelligibly. I tried countering with "What the hell are you doing in my e-mail account!?" but he was hollering too loudly. He said that didn't matter. I betrayed him. Why was I e-mailing another boy. Why wasn't he mentioned in my response. I obviously didn't love him.
I turned around on the other side of the bridge and drove back to his apartment. I can't remember specifics anymore, only the volume of his voice screaming at me while I cried on his bathmat, dry heaving over the toilet. I curled up in the corner of his bathroom just hoping to disappear while he screamed. I remember crawling to the corner of the kitchen on my hands and knees sobbing while he threw picture frames at me while the neighbors pounded on the walls.
We entered war the next morning.
However I was already there.
Whoever said that games don't work is a big fat liar.
Unfortunately, I wasn't playing games intentionally. I didn't know how to respond to the guy from last week, so I didn't. And now it looks like I've gotten myself into a bit of a mess here.
Love, Sarah at 1:33 PM|
~Thursday, September 07, 2006
E just called me crying.
Blind date #7 just rejected her. This time he sent her an e-mail minutes before they were supposed to meet and he basically said that he's already dating someone and doesn't feel right going on more dates because he feels that's cheating.
Well he should have fucking not asked for the date the night before then.
Seven was supposed to be her lucky number. I read statistically that one out of every seven blind dates actually goes well. It looks like date #7 will have to wait for the next guy. If there's a next guy. One can only take so much rejection in two months.
My heart breaks for her. It's put me into a somber mood as I sit at my keyboard and pound away like I usually do when I'm upset.
But what about me?
Yeah I can be selfish like that. But what about me?
I'm... I feel like I'm close to greatness. Adam or no Adam. Even if he wasn't in the picture, I feel like I'm so close to something great. And I don't know what it is. But it's near me and I can feel it's low electrical whir.
I'm grateful that in all my years of dating, I've only been not asked for a second date once. There are desirables about me: I've got a quick draw intellect and have stories that will have you pissing yourselves in hysterics, all wrapped up in a cute package.
Starting now, as "To Sheila" by Smashing Pumpkins plays on my speakers, I'm going to do something I've never done before. I'm going to believe in myself.
And you know what Vince? I'm going to jump.
Lately I just can't seem to believe
Discard my friends to change the scenery
It meant the world to hold a bruising faith
But now it's just a matter of grace
Love, Sarah at 6:59 PM|
~Wednesday, September 06, 2006
"Big spoon or little spoon?"
Adam's trying to use my terminology.
"Little spoon for movies..."
"And big spoon for sleeping," he finishes. I smile.
He removes the pillows from the couch and we climb on together with me in front, the little spoon. He lays his lower arm under my neck and wraps his free arm around me. Never in my life have I ever felt so good and safe and warm in someone else's arms. I take a moment and ponder if I just feel this way because of the absence of someone else's arms, or if it's Adam. No, even now I still can't answer that.
A couple hours later and we change locations. Instead of feeling good and safe, I feel sexy and skinny and powerful. I truly like kissing Adam. I've learned I'll do just about anything to hear him groan. With Adam, I don't worry that I'm not beautiful enough or smart enough; I don't feel him judging.
He leans forward and sits up in bed and I wrap my legs around him and we make out. Light from the highrise across the street pours in his bedroom window, giving just enough light to see the outline of his slender body. I put my hands on his face and push them through his hair. I want my hands everywhere on him.
A couple hours after that and we settle into sleepy silences. We giggle under his goose down comforter while we slowly make our way into our sleeping positions. Adam turns and thrusts his back towards me. I take the opportunity and snuggle up against him, meeting every crevice of his body with my own, and smoosh my face into his shoulder blade. Adam groans.
"Big spoon?" he asks.
"Big... spoon..." I repeat and fall asleep before I could even finish the thought.
~Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Well now you've really done it.
I needed control.
Who are you kidding, you're more out of control than anything!
No, I feel like I have the upper hand again.
You have some trust issues. Seriously.
He cancelled. After I admitted I did not have a good feeling about this, he cancelled.
He was tired. He let you know as soon as he knew he wouldn't feel up to it. Then he called you. He's done nothing wrong.
The whole situation was shisty. He told me to call him when I got back into the city and when I did, his phone was off.
It was because he was sleeping. He was tired. He e-mailed you at 4 AM. You know he was up late.
I just didn't like being asked to call him to see if he's up for going out or not.
Well you took care of that, didn't you?
I didn't think he was going to call again.
Who reacts that way though?
It seemed like a good idea at the time.
You took advantage of him. You knew you could use him so you did.
I didn't hear him complaining.
You haven't seen him in seven years and you call him, invite him over, and sleep with him. Normal people do not do this.
I didn't think Adam was going to call again.
But he did.
Well... I didn't see that coming.
He called while you were naked with someone else.
He cancelled on me.
You are such an asshole. You cried silently on his shoulder while he watched football and you prayed he would think it was just sweat that was rolling down him. It was 5 tears, but you never cry. Talk about post orgasm regret. And then your phone in the bathroom rings and you recognize Adam's ringtone. Adam left you a long rambling message about how he was sorry for being absent this weekend and then he asked you out for tonight. TONIGHT.
Oh god, what have I done?
You were mad at men, so you used one to get back at Adam. You used a human being.
Again, he wasn't complaining.
And what are you going to do now?
Ignore the one I slept with and never tell Adam. We're not exclusive.
This makes you look pretty slutty.
I feel pretty slutty, okay? Don't give me such a hard time about it! I have to go home and take out the trash to hide any evidence!
And how do you feel you have control again?
Because I can get it elsewhere too, I'm not sitting around waiting for him to call.
But what if he really was tired? Why can't you just believe that?
Because I refuse to be played the fool. Not this time. Not again.
You could lose him over this.
I never had him.
~Monday, September 04, 2006
I told myself I would stop obsessing over my body when I could finally hit that solid straight line. The one that begins at my diaphragm and travels down to the lower abs. I told myself that when I obtained that line, I would be happy.
And as I brushed my teeth yesterday morning, I met my goal. Noticeable rib definition, an ab outline, no belly. The skin travels straight and smoothly to my nether regions without hint of a paunch.
"Just 20 more pounds," I said to myself, nodding in the mirror.
I'm skinny, I look skinny, my clothes tell me I'm skinny-- I just don't feel skinny. Even when I was a size four I felt overweight. Now a six, I'll tell myself I'll be happy at a four.
I'm supposed to be happy about myself already.
~Saturday, September 02, 2006
1. Three things that scare me:
- Having to ask for help with money
- Becoming physically deformed
- Peeping Toms
- My brother D
- My brother P
- My father
- People who break plans
- People who are chronically late
- People who judge
- What exactly an engineer does
- Why I don't have an effing boyfriend
- Grey matter (I perceive only in black and white)
- Passing time until I go out
- Eating a bowl of dry Lucky Charms
- Air-drying my hair
- Change my name
- Sky dive
- See more of the world
- Remember lyrics to songs I haven't heard in 10 years
- Live a completely independent lifestyle
- Parallel park a Ford Explorer in downtown Atlanta
- Tell my left from my right (technically I can, but I have trouble with this. A lot.)
- Put both my legs behind my head (only one)
- Save money for large ticket items (ie car, house)
- Neutral Milk Hotel - In the Aeroplane Over the Sea
- Liz Phair - Exile in Guyville
- Your gut
- My mother
- Two-faced people
- How to do a cartwheel
- Speak another language fluently
- Seared tuna
- Diet Coke
- Gummi Bears
- Inspector Gadget
- Whomever wants to do this
Love, Sarah at 10:59 AM|
~Friday, September 01, 2006
I'm fighting right now with my inner voice-- my forever optimistic conscience. If I could slap her, I would. Stupid bitch.
What the hell is your problem?See? Stupid bitch.
I don't have a good feeling about this.
They should really lock you up you know. Look at you, you're talking to yourself. He likes you, I swear.
But what about Wednesday morning? I think I kissed him too much.
He didn't brush his teeth and you did; he was worried about morning breath.
I just think that since the naked factor has entered the equation, he's not trying as hard.
You spent the night at his place the next night.
He had to let me come over-- my apartment was flooded. He didn't try anything with me.
Get over yourself. You both were exhausted from the night before where neither of you slept. It was 1 AM when you got there.
We did fall asleep immediately.
And how did you sleep?
In his arms.
But what about the next morning?
What about it?
You know what I'm going to say.
You have no proof.
I only caught a glimpse of the screen, but I really think he was answering an online dating e-mail.
You only saw the greeting.
Boys don't write that to each other. That's how I greet him in my e-mails.
Maybe it was one of yours.
Why would my e-mail be open on his computer screen while I'm in his condo? That's just poor form to look elsewhere while I'm in his house.
You have no proof. Besides, you're not exclusive. You said yourself that you wouldn't feel comfortable in a relationship because in many ways he's still a stranger to you.
I know, but I want to have my cake and eat it too.
When has that ever worked out for you?
And then he found you on the couch and he kissed you on your neck.
Yeah, that was nice.
And he still e-mails you regularly. They're still flirty.
But they aren't as flirty as they were prenaked factor.
That's debatable. Just this morning he wrote you an e-mail about how cute you are.
See, I knew boys thought of me as cute, nothing more. My gut says something is off though.
He still talks about the future.
I just want to feel special.
Look, worst case scenario: he never calls again. It's only been two weeks, you wouldn't even cry over it.
You still have your secrets, you haven't slept with him, you could walk away right now with your pride.
I'm debating it.
I only brought that up so you could argue with me!! I was trying to make a point-- you weren't supposed to actually agree!!
This trusting thing, it's just too hard.
But dating is fun again.
And I'm talking to myself again.
I'm just going to pull away a bit and let him pursue.
Uh, you've been doing that all along.
Not the last two days. And I'm feeling self-conscious already.
I think you should just relax. He's done NOTHING to prove anything other than he likes you.
I just want to feel special.