Anything Goes

Tsarina

Tsarina

I do have a MySpace account which I had to set up in order to comment on my friend Beanie’s blog and now Sidra and appears a half a dozen other bloggers from blogspot. I did NOT know it was a quasi-dating service.

Goofy Guy does not have my home address but having grown up across the tracks from where I live, he has a pretty good IDEA of where I live just not exactly. Fear not, Goofy Guy has not contacted me since he e-mailed me following our horrible lunch date, saying, “You’re very sweet.” No, buddy, I’m not sweet. I may be many things, but “sweet” is not a word I would use to describe myself. Kittens, puppies, and other furry mammal babies are sweet, I am not. Okay, he also called me, which I ignored. His message, “If you’re not too busy, maybe we can … blah, blah, blah.”

Too busy? Too busy would not begin to describe my life right now.

On to other matters at hand.

Nate has been suspended from school for one day for yelling at his teacher. He is still alive and breathing and at his father’s house. The range of emotions I have experienced today I would not wish on my worst enemy or even Goofy Guy. I’m still in a partial rage.

On the bright side, I’ve channeled that rage into cleaning my house. It’s working.

I talked to Troy last night. Remember Troy? Former JAG? Hot? Yeah, him. Sorry, ladies, he is off the market. He’s dating an Australian diplomat. I was extremely happy to hear this as he is one of my best good friends and one that I wish a multitude of happiness for. If anyone deserves a hot, blonde Australian diplomat, it’s Troy. I was angry yesterday too, and Troy had been drinking wine (what IS IT with my friends drinking wine this week???) so he was all mellow and laid back, well, he’s that way all the time, so I mellowed out from some of my anger last night, but not totally. Nate was able to spike right up there again today.

I’m pissed off at “Tsarina,” the necklace, not the blogger. It’s not turning out the way I want it to. The pressure is building. I’ll post more pics this weekend, hopefully, along with the other pieces I have been working on. I want to send them out by the middle of next week. Yeah, and Nate lost one of the pieces. Fuck.

I’m irritated with one of my co-workers. I can’t begin to rage about it.

It’s a “Fight and Fuck” day. A day where you pick a fight so you can have hot, violent make-up sex. Did I say “violent?” I meant, “intensely passionate.” Actually, I did mean “violent.” Ass slapping, nipple pinching, hair-pulling, sweating, swearing, wrestling, back against the wall, legs wrapped around the waist, slamming, primal, cataclysmic, orgasmic fucking. For those of you for whom this is normal, may the Lord and Lady bless you in all you do.

Well, I’m still pissed, I think I’ll go clean the toilet. Hoo-rah.

I do have a MySpace account which I had to set up in order to comment on my friend Beanie’s blog and now Sidra and appears a half a dozen other bloggers from blogspot. I did NOT know it was a quasi-dating service.

Goofy Guy does not have my home address but having grown up across the tracks from where I live, he has a pretty good IDEA of where I live just not exactly. Fear not, Goofy Guy has not contacted me since he e-mailed me following our horrible lunch date, saying, “You’re very sweet.” No, buddy, I’m not sweet. I may be many things, but “sweet” is not a word I would use to describe myself. Kittens, puppies, and other furry mammal babies are sweet, I am not. Okay, he also called me, which I ignored. His message, “If you’re not too busy, maybe we can … blah, blah, blah.”

Too busy? Too busy would not begin to describe my life right now.

On to other matters at hand.

Nate has been suspended from school for one day for yelling at his teacher. He is still alive and breathing and at his father’s house. The range of emotions I have experienced today I would not wish on my worst enemy or even Goofy Guy. I’m still in a partial rage.

On the bright side, I’ve channeled that rage into cleaning my house. It’s working.

I talked to Troy last night. Remember Troy? Former JAG? Hot? Yeah, him. Sorry, ladies, he is off the market. He’s dating an Australian diplomat. I was extremely happy to hear this as he is one of my best good friends and one that I wish a multitude of happiness for. If anyone deserves a hot, blonde Australian diplomat, it’s Troy. I was angry yesterday too, and Troy had been drinking wine (what IS IT with my friends drinking wine this week???) so he was all mellow and laid back, well, he’s that way all the time, so I mellowed out from some of my anger last night, but not totally. Nate was able to spike right up there again today.

I’m pissed off at “Tsarina,” the necklace, not the blogger. It’s not turning out the way I want it to. The pressure is building. I’ll post more pics this weekend, hopefully, along with the other pieces I have been working on. I want to send them out by the middle of next week. Yeah, and Nate lost one of the pieces. Fuck.

I’m irritated with one of my co-workers. I can’t begin to rage about it.

It’s a “Fight and Fuck” day. A day where you pick a fight so you can have hot, violent make-up sex. Did I say “violent?” I meant, “intensely passionate.” Actually, I did mean “violent.” Ass slapping, nipple pinching, hair-pulling, sweating, swearing, wrestling, back against the wall, legs wrapped around the waist, slamming, primal, cataclysmic, orgasmic fucking. For those of you for whom this is normal, may the Lord and Lady bless you in all you do.

Well, I’m still pissed, I think I’ll go clean the toilet. Hoo-rah.

Pardon if I don’t make sense.

I had a date with a guy I disliked before we went on our date (this was like, two weeks ago). Here’s how. We’ve been e-mailing back and forth on MySpace for a few months. Nice guy, seemed like anyway, six kids, three that live with him, Okay, I’m down with it. We had talked of just meeting for lunch and discussed this over a period of months and then it took me three weeks to answer his last e-mail. Just busy.

So, we exchange digits and he calls me, we talk, blah, blah, but still, I’m not feelin’ much. The guy is kinda goofy. Well… one night I had talked to everyone and my Mom… AZ, T-Bird, Celti, e-mailed Seven, e-mailed this person, e-mailed that person, beaded, talked to Jeff six times, chased Nate around, you know, my typical evening following eight hours of brain numbing document review. I stood up from my desk and I started weaving because I was so tired. Like tonight.

I’m laying in Nate’s bed, talking to T-Bird on my cellphone, when I hear the house phone ring. I get up, look at the ID and see Goofy Guy. Nope, I don’t answer, I let it go to voicemail. I’m too tired. Nate comes in crankin’ about wanting a Diet Dr. Pepper and lays down with me. My cellphone beeps. I look at the Call Waiting ID - Goofy Guy. I reject the call and send it to voicemail. Strike One - DO NOT TRACK ME DOWN VIA MY CELL PHONE UNLESS YOU KNOW ME WELL ENOUGH TO KNOW WHETHER YOU SHOULD.

Nate falls asleep, I hang up with T-Bird, listen to the message, “If you get this… blah, blah, call me.” I’m contemplating whether I should get out of bed and take my contacts out, get the clothes in off the line, and close and lock the front door or take my chances with eye fungus, wet clothes, and rapists and murderers when I hear the house phone ring again. It’s past the time anyone should call me. I’ve talked to a lot of people but I get up, go in the computer room and see it is… Goofy Guy. Strike Two - GIVE ME FUCKING TIME TO RETURN YOUR CALL OR ACCEPT THE FACT I’M NOT CALLING YOU BACK TONIGHT. I snatch the phone up, tell him I was laying down with Nate, I’m tired, I don’t feel like talking, good night. Yeah, I’m a bitch. Bite me.

The reason he called THREE TIMES IN TWENTY MINUTES was because he was out for a walk (IN MY FUCKING NEIGHBORHOOD - he lives about a mile from me). STRIKE THREE, YOU’RE OUT!! See, peeps, this is my space and I make that very, very clear to just about anyone who knows me. THIS. IS. MY. SPACE.

You don’t come into my space unless you receive an invitation (unless you happen to be AZ, in that case, you call and tell me you’re pulling up to my house, but, I’ve known him for 14 years). So, even though, right off the bat, I made it perfectly, crystal ass clear that I do not, will not, and shall not, invite him over for tea on the first date, nor on the second, nor perhaps at anytime, or until such a time that I am comfortable having him in MY. SPACE. he just up and decides he will try to circumvent that by “strolling by.” *Yeah!*

That, my children, is called a “boundary.” It is an important boundary to me because I am extremely motherfucking anal about my fucking space in this world. Now, you all know, just as he did when he thought he would “take a walk in my neighborhood” and “thought” he would stop by to see me, just because he might not have anything better to do. Nuh uh.

So, I wake up and think I’m being harsh and I should at least give an hour lunch date a try and try to get along with other people. It was a nightmare and just solidified what I already knew. Goofy Guy and I were totally NOT COMPATIBLE. The lunch date sucked for a MULTITUDE of reasons. I told AZ later, “I thought I was lonely, but I take it back. Dear Lord, I TAKE IT BACK! I. TAKE. IT. BACK!!”

AZ’s response: “So, you were visited by the Shit Monster, too?”

Pardon if I don’t make sense.

I had a date with a guy I disliked before we went on our date (this was like, two weeks ago). Here’s how. We’ve been e-mailing back and forth on MySpace for a few months. Nice guy, seemed like anyway, six kids, three that live with him, Okay, I’m down with it. We had talked of just meeting for lunch and discussed this over a period of months and then it took me three weeks to answer his last e-mail. Just busy.

So, we exchange digits and he calls me, we talk, blah, blah, but still, I’m not feelin’ much. The guy is kinda goofy. Well… one night I had talked to everyone and my Mom… AZ, T-Bird, Celti, e-mailed Seven, e-mailed this person, e-mailed that person, beaded, talked to Jeff six times, chased Nate around, you know, my typical evening following eight hours of brain numbing document review. I stood up from my desk and I started weaving because I was so tired. Like tonight.

I’m laying in Nate’s bed, talking to T-Bird on my cellphone, when I hear the house phone ring. I get up, look at the ID and see Goofy Guy. Nope, I don’t answer, I let it go to voicemail. I’m too tired. Nate comes in crankin’ about wanting a Diet Dr. Pepper and lays down with me. My cellphone beeps. I look at the Call Waiting ID - Goofy Guy. I reject the call and send it to voicemail. Strike One - DO NOT TRACK ME DOWN VIA MY CELL PHONE UNLESS YOU KNOW ME WELL ENOUGH TO KNOW WHETHER YOU SHOULD.

Nate falls asleep, I hang up with T-Bird, listen to the message, “If you get this… blah, blah, call me.” I’m contemplating whether I should get out of bed and take my contacts out, get the clothes in off the line, and close and lock the front door or take my chances with eye fungus, wet clothes, and rapists and murderers when I hear the house phone ring again. It’s past the time anyone should call me. I’ve talked to a lot of people but I get up, go in the computer room and see it is… Goofy Guy. Strike Two - GIVE ME FUCKING TIME TO RETURN YOUR CALL OR ACCEPT THE FACT I’M NOT CALLING YOU BACK TONIGHT. I snatch the phone up, tell him I was laying down with Nate, I’m tired, I don’t feel like talking, good night. Yeah, I’m a bitch. Bite me.

The reason he called THREE TIMES IN TWENTY MINUTES was because he was out for a walk (IN MY FUCKING NEIGHBORHOOD - he lives about a mile from me). STRIKE THREE, YOU’RE OUT!! See, peeps, this is my space and I make that very, very clear to just about anyone who knows me. THIS. IS. MY. SPACE.

You don’t come into my space unless you receive an invitation (unless you happen to be AZ, in that case, you call and tell me you’re pulling up to my house, but, I’ve known him for 14 years). So, even though, right off the bat, I made it perfectly, crystal ass clear that I do not, will not, and shall not, invite him over for tea on the first date, nor on the second, nor perhaps at anytime, or until such a time that I am comfortable having him in MY. SPACE. he just up and decides he will try to circumvent that by “strolling by.” *Yeah!*

That, my children, is called a “boundary.” It is an important boundary to me because I am extremely motherfucking anal about my fucking space in this world. Now, you all know, just as he did when he thought he would “take a walk in my neighborhood” and “thought” he would stop by to see me, just because he might not have anything better to do. Nuh uh.

So, I wake up and think I’m being harsh and I should at least give an hour lunch date a try and try to get along with other people. It was a nightmare and just solidified what I already knew. Goofy Guy and I were totally NOT COMPATIBLE. The lunch date sucked for a MULTITUDE of reasons. I told AZ later, “I thought I was lonely, but I take it back. Dear Lord, I TAKE IT BACK! I. TAKE. IT. BACK!!”

AZ’s response: “So, you were visited by the Shit Monster, too?”

I can’t even think of something decent to write. Maybe I’ll try again tomorrow.

I can’t even think of something decent to write. Maybe I’ll try again tomorrow.

AZ stopped by last night for a little porch time. I brought up the conversation we had had the night before, about “Why is that?” Why is it that we end up coming full circle and just can’t quit each other.

His reaction was more body language than spoken. He put his palms to the sky, shrugged, shook his head, bowed it down, and wouldn’t look at me. Defensive? Submissive? Both. It’s hard to talk about things you don’t want to admit. Things that scare you.

I had been leaned back in my chair very relaxed, but I leaned forward, kissed his mop of hair, threaded my hands around the back of his neck, and whispered, “It’s okay if we don’t know, right?” He nodded. “It’s okay if we can’t explain it, right?” He nodded. “Then we’re fine.” He nodded.

But we both know. We could explain it. But we wouldn’t be fine with it if we did.

Far Away - Nickelback from All The Right Reasons

This time, This place
Misused, Mistakes
Too long, Too late
Who was I to make you wait
Just one chance
Just one breath
Just in case there’s just one left
‘Cause you know,
you know, you know

That I love you
I have loved you all along
And I miss you
Been far away for far too long
I keep dreaming you’ll be with me
and you’ll never go
Stop breathing if
I don’t see you anymore

On my knees, I’ll ask
Last chance for one last dance
‘Cause with you, I’d withstand
All of hell to hold your hand
I’d give it all
I’d give for us
Give anything but I won’t give up
‘Cause you know,
you know, you know

That I love you
I have loved you all along
And I miss you
Been far away for far too long
I keep dreaming you’ll be with me
and you’ll never go
Stop breathing if
I don’t see you anymore

So far away
Been far away for far too long
So far away
Been far away for far too long
But you know, you know, you know

I wanted
I wanted you to stay
‘Cause I needed
I need to hear you say
That I love you
I have loved you all along
And I forgive you
For being away for far too long
So keep breathing
‘Cause I’m not leaving
Hold on to me and
never let me go

AZ stopped by last night for a little porch time. I brought up the conversation we had had the night before, about “Why is that?” Why is it that we end up coming full circle and just can’t quit each other.

His reaction was more body language than spoken. He put his palms to the sky, shrugged, shook his head, bowed it down, and wouldn’t look at me. Defensive? Submissive? Both. It’s hard to talk about things you don’t want to admit. Things that scare you.

I had been leaned back in my chair very relaxed, but I leaned forward, kissed his mop of hair, threaded my hands around the back of his neck, and whispered, “It’s okay if we don’t know, right?” He nodded. “It’s okay if we can’t explain it, right?” He nodded. “Then we’re fine.” He nodded.

But we both know. We could explain it. But we wouldn’t be fine with it if we did.

Far Away - Nickelback from All The Right Reasons

This time, This place
Misused, Mistakes
Too long, Too late
Who was I to make you wait
Just one chance
Just one breath
Just in case there’s just one left
‘Cause you know,
you know, you know

That I love you
I have loved you all along
And I miss you
Been far away for far too long
I keep dreaming you’ll be with me
and you’ll never go
Stop breathing if
I don’t see you anymore

On my knees, I’ll ask
Last chance for one last dance
‘Cause with you, I’d withstand
All of hell to hold your hand
I’d give it all
I’d give for us
Give anything but I won’t give up
‘Cause you know,
you know, you know

That I love you
I have loved you all along
And I miss you
Been far away for far too long
I keep dreaming you’ll be with me
and you’ll never go
Stop breathing if
I don’t see you anymore

So far away
Been far away for far too long
So far away
Been far away for far too long
But you know, you know, you know

I wanted
I wanted you to stay
‘Cause I needed
I need to hear you say
That I love you
I have loved you all along
And I forgive you
For being away for far too long
So keep breathing
‘Cause I’m not leaving
Hold on to me and
never let me go