Thursday, June 27, 2002

Ok, imagine it in Sand, Brushed Twill, with a couple extra Hunter Green throw pillows and a beautiful Black Lab - instead of the golden A couch as a symbol. Never really thought my life would come to this - placing symbolic importance of the direction of my life and emotional well being on a creature-comfort-purchase from Pottery Barn, but my Charleston Slip-Cover Sofa arrived today.

At 32 years old, I have never owned a couch. I mean I've had couches, but they belonged to my roomate, or boyfriend or were a hand-me-down from a friend, but I've never purchased a couch.

When I lived in Milwaukee - my "pretend" couch was the stuff of legends. In lieu of purchasing a couch for my otherwise cool little apartment by the lake - I used an inflatable mattress with a flannel down sleepy bag and 6 huge green pillows - I mean it was the shit for watching movies with friends and kicking back to (um) enjoy video's of the "release" type...but I always found people kinda looking around my apartment like - uh - interesting - NO couch. You see I felt like if I bought a couch I was striking some permanent deal to stay in Milwaukee, and with my boyfriend (ex) 2000 miles away - I figured I would wait til I knew the next step. So somewhere in my head - the couch - became a symbol for the future of my relationship. So today - with the relationship ended and my heart and soul mending - two NOT sexy delivery men showed up at my door (you so KNOW I was hoping for some street-wise urban punks with hard dicks, sweaty butts and loose morals to deliver my couch AND MORE - but oh well) to bring me my consumer delight. I moved it around, adjusted - readjusted - maladjusted - the pillows, hung pictures above it - took them down - rehung them - set lamps on the right - then the left - Oh, ok back to right - for over and hour (shouldn't I be somewhere ? Oh crap - work!).

So now I'm part of the club - Symbolically Important Couches Klub (S.I.C.K.) and I just have one question to ask :

You wanna sit with me on my couch ?

Wednesday, June 26, 2002

I vented last night, not a little - A FRIGGING LOT. After a few too many glasses of wine - I climbed on the phone to one of my buddies
and ranted
and raved
and cursed
and spewed
- shredding, dicing, chopping - my Ex.

Today - I just felt plain shitty.

That's just not me - or at least not the me I want(ed) to be. I don't want my "ex" back, I don't. But I want to believe that this past 3 years, wasn't for nought (is that really a word or am I inventing them again ??). Would it kill him to pine for me ? To cry out my name at my window in the middle of the night ? To think that losing me was not acceptable ? To fight for me ? To PROVE to me that he was willing to endure slings and arrows to win me back ? But instead he cried for a few days and moved on - he CAN'T have me in his life now - he'll be back and be my friend when he's ready...ok, ok I know time and distance heal all wounds, but I just lost one of my closest friends, the man I thought I would grow old and feeble with ("come hear BABY, let me GUM ya!"), the person who knows every secret, every worry, every story, every dream. I still NEED him, his hugs, his friendship, his thoughts, his advice, his laugh, his concern. And now it's beginning to make me ANGRY, very, VERY ANGRY. I hate this. I feel this sensation pushing up from my stomach, eclipsing my broken heart and forcing, straining to explode out my head. I grit my teeth, I cap my ears, I shut my eyes and I TRY not to let it out, I DONT want to let it free.

...whats happening to me?

Tuesday, June 25, 2002

A list (of sorts) of random thoughts on my weekend:

  • Dinner with the "X" before I left was a disaster, ending in the much loved dramatic exit of the restaurant, looking - much as we were - like another gay couple having a tif.
  • I rocked NO one's world in Los Angeles this weekend ('cept Drag Queens, that strange tweaker who LOVED all the scars on the back of my head - "Uh HI it's called being hit in the head with a baseball bat - glad it turns you on!", a "once sexy" leather couple who was - well - more 'leathered' than their leather and people who have been til this point my friends and now that I am single may be inclined to think differently of me *one of them is under consideration*) which embarrassingly I have allowed to cast a deep shadow over my self-esteem.
  • Let's face it booze is fun (Appletini, BEER) , bars are fun (Abbey, Revolver) - but I really would have had a much better time rolling, bumping and dancing at the Mayan.
  • A near head-on collision, which gave my best friend Patrick no choice but to ram straight into a parked car was NOT the way I wanted to start Pride in LA.
  • There were some extraordinary men to look at at Pride, but NO ONE brought a smile to my face MORE than getting to see a fuckin adorable Jason...I also had the luck to meet hotties Bruce and the boyfriend(s) (though I admit I was a little buzzed and all the muscle daddies started to look alike)...where the hell were these guys when I was at Faultline Friday and Saturday night looking for tail. Jason was even kind enough to snap a couple pics so check out his site.
  • My best friend, is my BEST friend, is my best FRIEND, is my BEST FRIEND.
  • No sex, NONE, not a hummer, a grope, a rim, a pump, a slam - nothing...and all weekend all I could think about is how bad I want to "make-out" with someone, remember making out, I don't. When the clothes don't even come off and it's still hotter (almost) than most sex.
  • I haven't seen my baby Chris in almost 2 weeks and I am having withdrawals.
  • The "X" and I began "dog-custody" last week, alternating 1 week stints from Thursday to Thursday (I know, I KNOW, it sounds moronic - but it will be a very ugly fight to decide who gets full custody otherwise), I am sooooooo missing Baby and hearing rustling around at night. Silence sucks.
  • The nightmares have begun - strange social scenarios played out in my head involving my Ex and acts of redemption - sleeping with friends to spite me, trying to harm my family, burning every love letter I wrote him, telling me he hates me - bad dreams that leave me waking in tears and feeling lost, sad and confused.
  • I'm horny - not a little - A LOT, I sport wood watching college guys biking to school, I stare at men like a ravenous dog, I need to get it over with - I need a one night stand.
  • Getting a bit more than a little stressed about the continous outflow of cash - 1 week countdown to my bonus - but rent and car payment to be paid before then - float little check FLOAT.
  • I'm just rambling now , aren't I ?