Hoss wins for the best comment on yesterday’s post… “Yeah, I think you are AZ intolerant. Moving right along……”
In case you didn’t notice, I’m trying to blog more. I remember a little feller telling me I’m difficult to live with when I don’t blog. I got the point when Nate started picketing my bedroom with “Mean Mommy” signs.
I’m not feeling well again tonight. Must be that homemade Alfredo sauce I made with lots of heavy cream and cheese. Plus, it’s almost that time of month and I didn’t sleep well last night, despite the two cups of tea I had. I’ve had one tonight and I’m about ready for another. The washer is spinning out and after the bedclothes dry, Nanner is going to bed with the window cracked. It’s raining, which always makes me sleepy and snuggly. I told the rain it was needed more in CA, except the fact we’ve been in drought conditions here too. CA still needs it more.
I need a beer and a snuggle buddy. And why when I wrote that was there a knock on the door?
Have you heard the old wives’ tale that when a broom falls company is coming? Well, the broom fell this morning. I said, “Shit, company’s coming.” So, company shows up at the door in the form of a man I vaguely recognize. As I said, it’s pouring the rain outside and he’s wet from head to toe. He insists that I know him. That he used to work for the people who lived two doors down, that it was he who was walking down the street last night.
Yes, that I remember. That he once worked for Mr. Webb, no, I don’t recall that, not that it would make a damn bit of difference. He wants to use the phone, which I can’t find (because it’s in the car.) I’m not friendly, nor am I rude but I move him away from my front door. He’s a little drunk, carrying a bottle of alcohol, and he’s actually quite attractive in a very rogue, Jack Sparrow sort of way. He has a nice smile and kind, yet mischievous, eyes. His name is Vince (no, he’s not our Vince, nor Jeff’s brother Vince) and he has a firm handshake.
He references the bottle in his hand as part of a date that was supposed to work out but didn’t. He’s sober enough to realize how all of this looks and he leaves, talking to himself as he walks down the street.
I remember watching him walk down the street last night. He’s lithely built, shoulder length, wavy dark hair, which was in a ponytail at the time. I suppose his girlfriend was with him. She had a rather goth look and frankly, not nearly as attractive as he is. However, I found myself wishing I had a man who walks hand-in-hand with me at night. Then I find myself wishing I had a beer and a snuggle buddy and I’ll be damned if the sonofabitch doesn’t show up at my door with booze. Which is the worst thing he could have shown up with. *Sigh*
Plus, anyone who knows me knows you don’t just show up at my front door. Is this a case of being careful what you wish for??????
Jeff called. Sounds like he’s on the juice again.
In other news, the sun has moved into Scorpio which means my birthday is in less than a month. I’d like to get laid … that’s all I want for my birthday. I think I know someone who could help me out with that. One problem, I work with him. He has not been mentioned as of yet. I did write an entire post about him but never posted it. Actually, I never finished it probably because I was becoming entirely too schmaltzy.
I do adore the Candyman and the feeling is mutual. Of course he’s taken. Come now, did you really think I’d be attracted to someone who wasn’t? In the middle of all the schmaltz, I was able to articulate that he has very kind, encouraging words and he’s very genuine.
The first day shift I tended bar by myself I was behind on everything and actually didn’t learn much about tending bar. I was standing at the cash register counting money, only to find I had left about $50 of MY MONEY in it. I was so tired and confused and he kept telling me not to worry, that he would put the beer in the cooler, “I’ll take care of it, honey.”
I sighed and said, “I really am trying.” He answered, “That’s what I like about you.” Not many men can turn my head by saying something like that, but he did. He doesn’t have to play me nor ply me with sweet words. That’s really just the way he is with everyone.
And yeah, he may be a two-timing SOB, but he’s honest about it. He wants to fuck me and I want to fuck him. Seems like that should be uncomplicated if we both are in agreement and both know its not going anywhere beyond fucking. But nothing in my life is uncomplicated, there has to be a catch somewhere. Something like, don’t shit where you sleep and don’t fuck where you work, which is funny considering we have a married couple, a gay couple, and the chef and his wife worked together before they married. Maybe it doesn’t apply to restaurants.
Maybe it will be determined by how much I trust him.
I think that part of my personality confuses people. As to how I would put myself in a position knowing that it will never morph into anything more substantial. I think some see it, in a way, of settling or even avoiding a deeper emotional connection and continuing to wall myself off from what I may see as an inevitable hurt, especially given my track record. I’ve often over-analyzed this part of my personality as well. If I want something more, then why settle for less? Simple. I want it.
How’s that for honest? And here’s something I read on the subject which put it in perspective for me – It is important to accept who you are and live the life you want to live, and not simply conform to what others want you to be.
Isn’t that what I was just griping about yesterday? Of course I also realize the difference between self-destructive emotional patterns and living the life I want to live. I think many would be surprised as to how downright traditional I can be in some ways. In others, no, I’m not so traditional.
Eh, I’ll leave that for another time. Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!