1 am, Saturday morning.

So here I am at ‘home’.

It’s not nearly as bad as it could be, and honestly? I owe it all to Jimmy Kimmel. I read a quote in a newspaper on the airplane to Toronto…and it was advice that Jimmy Kimmel’s wife (Sarah Silverman) had given him in dealing with his parents at Christmas. Paraphrased, it was to treat your own parents as you would if they were someone else’s parents. That way, their little idiosyncrasies are just adorable little quirks, and not entirely irksome things that they do just to piss the crap out of you. So far? It’s working pretty well.

Today though, I had to find myself a gym and go to work out. My father and I went shopping this morning, and after an entire morning with him? And him inviting himself back into mum’s house? And then with her making him tea but then buggering off for me to entertain him when I hadn’t even invited him into the house? I had some serious aggression to work out on the elliptical machine.

I’ve become a bit of a gym rat in the last two weeks, and I have to say that I’m loving it. It makes me feel so good after a nice hard work-out. I’m noticing changes to the shape of my body. Nothing dramatic yet, and I’m certainly not losing any weight, but I’m feeling good at least and that’s got to count for something.

Tonight has been a bit melancholy. I’m feeling a bit of a stranger here. And really, it’s because I am. I haven’t been home in a year. Not since last Christmas. And the time before that? The previous Christmas.

I feel like a mooch. I feel like I come home to gather up presents and then bail again. I’m not here as part of everybody’s lives. And they’re not part of mine.

It makes me sad. I don’t want to be a stranger to my own family. But I even noticed it when I was shopping for gifts this year.

I went to Jeremi’s parent’s house for a little bit the other night, and it was so comfortable. And Amy was part of their family in a way that I really miss. Because I miss being part of my boyfriend’s family. And I miss being part of my own.

I’ve developed a pretty great network of friends on the East Coast. And I love it there more than anything. I feel that I’m in my element there. The lifestyle, the pace, the people…I wouldn’t change a thing. I’m happy there.

But I’m not a ‘cozy’ person. I’m aloof. I’m reserved. I’m standoffish, inasmuch as a loudmouthed extrovert can be standoffish. J

I need to work harder this year at maintaining the ‘family’ friendships that I’ve established. I have great friends, and I need to make sure that I keep those relationships alive. But what’s becoming more and more apparent to me is that I WANT to be part of a couple. I don’t know why it causes me physical pain to say that out loud.

I guess it’s that I’ve proclaimed my satisfaction at being a ‘single’ for so long, that it seems as though it would be a loss of face to have to confess that I see the benefits to being a ‘couple’. And don’t get me wrong, I really have loved living my life as a single. I have loved my time to be me and to do what I want, when I want, and where I want. But now? Now, I want to be an ‘us’. Because what I want next Christmas? I want next Christmas to be about US. I don’t even KNOW an eligible US, but dammit I’m going to do what I can to find me one.

Speaking of. I’ve been obsessing, and I need to Cut It The Fuck Out. I keep thinking to myself that maybe we didn’t decide the right thing, Bill and I, when I know that we did. I keep not remembering all the reasons (and there are many) that we won’t work, and wishing like hell for the reasons that we would. And it’s not healthy, and I’ve got to stop. Because I can seriously see myself doing something entirely STUPID, and that resulting in us not being able to be friends anymore. But if I’m being honest with myself? Maybe we shouldn’t be just yet. I was all proud of us for being mature enough to be able to just hang out, and still be part of each other’s lives, and still be buddies. But I’m not mature enough to do it. I think I need some space.

Bill did the brakes on my car last Saturday evening. He figured it wouldn’t take much time at all, and I’d have my car back for the evening. Which was good, because I was supposed to meet up with some guy I met on POF…but I hadn’t mentioned that to Bill, just that I had plans. (more about the POF outing another time. Remind me.)

Anyway…long story longer, his car was still broken (power steering) and took more than the ‘it’ll just take 10 minutes then we can do yours’ – 2 hours in fact. So then by the time we got the tires off my car, it was 7pm. And the Canadian Tire monkey had given me 2 sets of the wrong parts. So we pumped Bill’s car full of power steering fluid and booked it to the closest CT. We got the right parts, put more fluid in the car, and went back to his workshop and proceeded to work on the car.

It was fun! It was a pain in the butt because it didn’t go easy, but it was fun! And I got to help and actually HELP. And that was great. J And Bill swore! Which you may not think is a big deal, since I curse like a sailor—but Bill doesn’t swear in front of women. He’s sworn exactly twice in front of me since I met him in June—6 months ago. And he remembers exactly both times, because it bugs him that he did it. But he cussed. And it made me laugh. Which made him even angrier. Which was funny.

Good times.

Anyway…the whole time he was working on the car? I kept thinking about how sexy it was to watch this man work on my car, for no reason other than that I needed the help and he was my friend and wanted to do nice things for me. And I had a very difficult time remembering that I’m not supposed to be thinking things like how sexy that is and that friends aren’t supposed to think things like that…well, the thinking wasn’t a problem—more the making sure I didn’t do anything about it. J

But the problem lies here—in that I’m thinking this stuff. And I know that I’m likely the only one thinking it. And I shouldn’t be.

This is the longest we’ve gone without talking since we met. I spoke to him Tuesday, and we went for beer on Monday because I was going to be away. We have spoken pretty much every day, in person or online since the end of June. It’s been 4 days now. I keep mentioning him in conversation. I keep thinking about him. I’m obsessing, and it’s NOT GOOD. I don’t even know if he feels the same way about our friendship as I do. Because I view him as the best friend I have right now. And I know that’s got to change if I’m to let anybody else in. But the problem lies in that I WANT him to be my best friend.

But I only want it if I get to do the same. And boys are different. And this boy is different from any boy I’ve ever known before.

And I don’t want to ask him, although I’m going to have to.

Tracey suggested that she and Brent and Bill and I spend New Year’s together. And while that would be fun, what I said to her stands true. Going out for New Year’s with Bill would impede my picking up ability a little bit. And I don’t want to be there if he picks up somebody else. Because although it would be the definitive answer I need? It would suck dead donkey ass. Only worse.

Well. That’s that. Now you know. :) But so far Christmas doesn’t suck. Just the being poor part of it. Seeing Amy and Jer was fantastic. I can’t wait for Christmas day, because they’re coming down, and Jer’s folks are coming too. I’m very much looking forward to having a house full of people, and some great food. And my parents are so much fun when there are guests around. So It should be a good time.

But I want to get ripped, and there are issues with Jeremi’s drinking, and with Amy’s alcohol consumption too. (Again, remind me…I’ll need to hash that out for myself in a day or so too.) So we’ll see what happens. I’ll likely stay dry and just wish I was half-cut.

Either way, I’m going to need a good tear for New Year’s Eve. Anything interesting going on where you are?

New! Now with an actual topic!

So, Mike had an interesting post at his site today. And I'd already noticed his fancy new button in the side-bar, proclaiming 'IndieBlogger' status, so his transition was no big shocker to me. But it got me to thinking.

Mike was observing about 'targeted posts'. Blogs that have SomethingToSay. And I have to admit, that other than my not-quite very first post, this is the first one that I've written that actually has a real, honest-to-goodness topic. Ahem. TOPIC.

I am not political. I have political views. I have very Strong Opinions about things. And I even have interests that don't involve Beer and Men. No, really, I do. But to frame my blog around those things? Just seems wrong for me.

I'm all about the life-blog. I have nothing of value to say otherwise. And really? Not like anybody would care, even if I DID have something to say. I enjoy READING targeted posts, but can't be bothered to invest the time and energy that I feel is necessary for me to go about WRITING one.

I feel sadly uninformed about things that are going on in the world. I am ill-equipped to comment on Darfur. I am uneducated as to the wide-reaching economic fall-out of our time in Afghanistan. I am naive with regards to the goings-on in Palestine and Lebanon these days. I read. I listen to the radio. I watch the news, such as it is. Heck, when I can stay up that late? I watch Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert! I try to stay informed. And yet? I feel that I have nothing of value to contribute to the ongoing discussions.

When opportunity presents itself, I do my best to share what information I have with those I encounter who are even more ill-informed than am I. And working where I do, with the vast age-span that I encounter? It happens more often than you'd think. But I am by no means an expert on ANY of what I consider to be the Important Issues, and I think it would be irresponsible of me to pretend otherwise.

So I don't comment. I am shocked when I hear of the death tolls overseas. I am horrified by home-invasions in relatively close-by neighbourhoods. I am appalled (I *may* actually write about this, it bugged me THAT much) by an armed robbery at a local retailer. But I don't comment in my blog about it. Why not? Because so many other people do it. And some of them do it better than could I. And some of them don't. But opinions are like arseholes. Everybody who's got one, is one...or something like that. ;)

Just because I've got a venue doesn't mean I have anything of value to say.

Speaking of venues...

My blog. It's mine. I made it. I made it so that I'd have a safe, private place to vent. Because I can't imagine that the people I actually know In Real Life would want to hear me prattle on incessantly about ThursdayBeer and my obsessions with boys, and the really nifty thing or turn of phrase that Variax said yesterday night. Nobody wants to hear about my MSN chats.

Well, not nobody, because somebody must, or you wouldn't be here.

But back to my blog. I started it because I needed anonymity. I needed what I perceived as a safe place to vent. I've always been of the opinion that if people knew what I REALLY think about things, they wouldn't want to speak to me anymore. I'm still of that opinion, quite frankly. I use my blog as a trash-depository for my thoughts. It allows me to empty my head of things that are taking up space. It allows me a place to babble about random shit, to swear, curse, ogle boys, talk about beer, lament my poor house-keeping skills, and fret about my finances.

Except that I don't anymore.

I know this is my blog and nobody gets an opinion but me.

But that being said? I have found myself self-censoring madly of late. And it's because I'm meeting more and more of my bloggy-acquaintances in RL (that most-dreaded of all places) and I find myself actually caring what they think. Which somewhat defeats the purpose of a 'safe' and 'anonymous' place to rant.

Well, it's not even that I know you all IRL--it's that I've come to know you all through your blogs, and your comments. Most of you? I know you wouldn't care. I know that you come here expecting to have to read my curse-words, and the random (relatively non-descriptive) commentary on my near-non-existent sex life. You know that you'll be reading nonsensical drivel, and occasionally it MAY be entertaining.* And I love that. I love that there seem to be more and more of you. I feel bad when I don't post as a result of that. But not bad enough to post, because it's my blog and I will not be pressured to conform, goddammit.

*NB: I never promised entertainment. Also, just FYI, I never promised you a rose garden.

Anyway...what's the point of all this?

I dunno. But I think I'm going to make an effort to stop self-censoring so much. Screw it. If I want to talk about how I stupidly acquired a $1200 traffic ticket? I'm going to. If I want to talk about how I'm starting to worry about not getting the opportunity to be a mom? I'm going to. If I want to rant about mommy-bloggers and their obsession with poop? I'm going to. I'm also going to make a conscious effort to blog more regularly. I enjoyed the NaBloPoMo experience, even if BetaBlogger thwarted my best intentions. I really DO feel better about myself and my life when I blog.

So consider yourselves warned. This is the beginning of my list of New Year's Revolutions. Have you started yours yet?

Viva La Resolution!

Peace out.

*******

I thought I'd lost this post!!! But by the magic of Christmas and the Power of Greyskull? Here it is! In all its postly glory! Aren't you lucky?

Melancholy baby.

Hey there--today is Sunday, and it's been a pretty good day all around.

I've been incredibly domestic today, baking up a storm. I made homemade soup. Then I made bread. Rolls, actually. And then? On top of that? Caramel-pecan cinnamon rolls.

I rock.

No, really. I do.

feeling the linkly love

I'm all about sharing tonight, apparently.

Have this. It's funny because it's true.

How compatible am I?

So...wanna date me?

82%How did you do?

"You are **on a lot of peoples list for potential mates. But, this doesn't mean that you can sit back and wait for them to come to you. You aren't that great!"**

Compatability Quiz!
See All Our Quizzes

You deserve so much better...

...but you're not getting it until tomorrow. :)

I'm on vacation!!!

Take this....perhaps the funniest thing I've seen in a long time, unless it's this.

My life? Not as interesting as it should have been, considering how long I've left you to your own devices. But more interesting than it will be in a week and a half. But take heart! There will be much blogging! Let the rejoicing begin...but please? Give it a day or so, to make 100% sure there's something to be rejoicing about. :)

dear ____:

okay, i get it. Karma's a bitch, and you're her.

i know I"ve been lucky. I know i've been forunate. I've been lucky enough in my life to be loved by a number of amazing men. I've been fortunate enough to KNOW how much they've cared for me. I've been lucky enough to know that they'd move heaven and earth to be with me....that they'd move halfway across the country simply for the chance to see if it would work, being with me.

I get that.

I also get that now? It's my turn. I know you're getting your own back.

I know that you think it's funny to bring me a boy that's exactly everything I could possibly want a boy to be, and then make him unattainable. I get it, and i think it's mean.

I think that you, Karma, are an evil and unprincipled whore. I think that you live only to propagate yourself. Bitch.


I know that what goes around comes around. I understand, and have known all along that my inability to love these amazing men would return to bite me in the ass. I just wish it wasn't now.

Why, Karma, do you choose this point in my life to shoot me in the foot? Do you choose now to show me my match? Why do you choose this man, this man who calls me on absolutely everything, to show me my equal? To teach me that I am not, indeed, invincible?

Why do you do this?

Do you think I need a comeuppance? Do you not know that simply knowing this man makes me feel stupid? That conversing with him challenges me in ways I have never before been challenged? Do you not understand that I need him to teach me to not take myself quite so seriously? To teach me that achievement isn't everything? And that breasts are not such a curse as I may let myself believe?

Why, when he needs me to teach him that his mother is a person outside of making beds and pies, would you not let me love him? Not let him love me? Not let us show each other?

Why would you allow us to drink beer, and yet not kiss? Why would you show me the, albeit short-lived, glory of being an "US" only to take it away and make me an 'I' again? Why would you want me to revel in the ego of the self, when I could bask in the joy of someone else's achievement?

Karma, you suck.

I knew that I could not pass through this life unscathed. I knew, that eventually you would catch up to me. I knew that I could not be so well loved without getting kicked in the guts myself. I knew that even though you made me crush other people, you, in turn, would crush me. And now? Now it's my turn.

And I feel it. I wish you'd stop kicking me.

I have never in my life been so grateful for someone making me cry, as I was tonight.

Bill said things to me that I've been needing to hear out loud. I've been telling myself for years. But nobody's had the nerve to tell me in so many words before. And he only did it because I forced him. And honestly? Coming from anybody else I wouldn't have listened anyway. But I value his opinions. And whether he values mine or not doesn't matter.

He is important to me in a way that nobody's been important to me in years. I need him to understand me, in a way I've never needed anyone to understand me before. I don't understand it, and quite frankly? It scares the crap out of me.

I know he doesn't care about me the same way. And that's where you come in, Karma. I don't know what I did to deserve this. Every time I've broken a heart I know it's caused me grief. I know it's caused me pain. I know it hasn't hurt me the same way it's hurt them, but each and every time I've felt a remorse I can't explain--simply because I knew I couldn't love them the way they loved me. And I knew it would be worse to pretend than to simply be cruel in the now.

But.

I don't remember feeling this way before. I don't even remember feeling like this with Jesus-Boy. I don't remember feeling so forlorn when I walked away, knowing that I should have explained that I wasn't coming back.

But I don't even know that I can live up to that. I thought, going in to tonight's Thursday Beer, that I was going to be able to separate myself from the situation . That I was going to be able to walk away, and cut the ties.

But I can't.

Tonight was fun. It was telling. It was revealing. And I wish I could say it was platonic. Because on his part? It was. But I was feeling more, and I know that I wasn't right to do it. I know that it's putting an unfair expectation on him. I know that I'm reading too much into simple responses that are nothing but statements of fact. They are not subliminal messages, urging me to buy popcorn at the concession stand. Nor are they subconscious statements of undying love and adoration. They need to be accepted at face value. Nothing inferred, nothing interpreted. Simply, statements of fact.

(forgive me fellow blog-stalkers--I'm writing this to my self. If you read it? So be it. But if you don't? I just need to get it out of my head. All apologies.)

Meh. MSN has diverted my stream of thought. Which is good. I was far too introspective. Although, it's 3:30 am...what do you expect? I need to be up in 2.5 hours. What the hell was I thinking?

Oh well. I had lost my NaBloPoMo Mojo...at least now? I've got it back. I'm grateful for that. Blogger Beta stole my mojo. Having 3 blog entries stolen from you at almost the end of a month of constant blogging? Makes you bitter and sad all at the same time.

As does falling for a boy who for one reason or another chooses to not love you back.

***
And Quinn? This is NOT a plea for you to comment or judge. It's a blog. Please refrain today, as I'm just not ready to deal with your recriminations and judgements. You're cooler. I get it. And I'm sorry if that offended you, but get over it.
***

Here's my MSN from 3:30 am with Variax. He's a saint, as always, for listening to my drivel...and then coming here to read more.

sadie (3:27:37 AM): I cried tonight. How bizarre is that?
sadie (3:27:47 AM): but i was smiling while I did it. I'm boggled.
sadie (3:28:00 AM): granted, I hid my face. But i was still weepy.
sadie (3:28:04 AM): fucking boys.
sadie (3:28:06 AM): They suck.
TheMostAmazingGuyEver (3:28:14 AM): *hugs*
sadie (3:29:08 AM): i wish i didn't find it so endearing.
sadie (3:29:22 AM): that's the part that blows most. Fucker's adorable.
TheMostAmazingGuyEver (3:30:26 AM): I was in danger of having a moment while at work.
TheMostAmazingGuyEver (3:30:45 AM): But I was luckily protected by my macho.
sadie (3:33:20 AM): soh.
sadie (3:33:25 AM): doh, even.
sadie (3:33:37 AM): moments suck. Even in the privacy of your own home.
TheMostAmazingGuyEver (3:33:50 AM): Yeah.
sadie (3:33:52 AM): R___, I went to his house to pee, and didn't know what to do when I was done.
sadie (3:34:06 AM): I said " Um...okay. See ya. Had fun...thanks. Bye."
sadie (3:34:14 AM): and left really fast, closing the door in his face.
sadie (3:34:28 AM): which was weird, as he's never walked me to the door before.
sadie (3:34:53 AM): but i haven't been to his place since a month ago when i left for good. Never intending to go back...well, at least not for 6 months or so.
sadie (3:35:02 AM): but now? We've still been going out for beer.
sadie (3:35:05 AM): and it was okay.
sadie (3:35:21 AM): but i feel like all those boys who have had crushes on me for my whole life...
sadie (3:35:35 AM): wanting more, and being sad when it wasn't offered, or was yanked away.
sadie (3:35:41 AM): ...And that
sadie (3:35:49 AM): is a horrible position to put anyone else into.
sadie (3:35:55 AM): because i've been there often enough.
sadie (3:35:57 AM): And it sucks.
sadie (3:35:59 AM): But.
sadie (3:36:34 AM): I keep misreading the signs. Which is odd, because i'm usually sooooo good at signs. But I know that i'm reading what i want to read, not what's really there.
sadie (3:37:07 AM): it's just so hard to remember that i'm imagining it. Even though that's the reality of the situation.
sadie (3:37:08 AM): FWAH.
sadie (3:37:13 AM): boys suck. But I suck more.
sadie (3:37:17 AM): meh.
TheMostAmazingGuyEver (3:37:51 AM): You rule.
sadie (3:38:53 AM): yeah. Well.
sadie (3:39:04 AM): tell Bill that, wouldja?
sadie (3:39:26 AM): explain why i rock more than anybody else and why he should love me more than physics? :)




Anyway...moving on with my life :)

Beer tonight was great. My weekend of home improvement was great. My wasted day off? Not so great. But. :)

I lost at least 3 posts to the Beta Blogger Demons. I gave up on NaBloPoMo. But I learned a lot from the experience...mostly? That it takes a hell of a lot longer than 21 days for ME to make something a habit :)

But I learned that I love all of you...even though a lot of you have no names, no faces, only anonymous ISPs. Good thing you've got cute addresses....otherwise i'd be forced to break up with you too, and then pine away over you.

G'night folks :)