for secret agent man

I wish I could whisper all my secrets in your ear.

I wish I had secrets worth telling, not just sad ones.

Maybe it's time to make some new secrets; better ones.

Wanna make some together?

Etc.

By the way, in my prior post I did not mean to suggest that I wasn't having a good Friday night, I was just contemplating some stuff (I note this because my friend J. read it and said he was sorry I was having a bad Friday night).

No, last night was a good night. I had a great time catching up with my best friend L. on the phone -- we dished about Project Runway, and caught up on our respective personal lives. I think I am a Project Runway geek. It was reassuring to talk to L. though, I think we both know more trivia about the show and more juicy tidbits about all the players than is really normal. Haaa haaaa...

On an entirely different note: If I never have to see another picture of Tom Cruise making a totally psychotic face for the rest of my life, that will be just about enough time for my cornea to recover. It's seriously about time he starts to become Michael Jackson and starts wearing a mask, thus sparing the citizenship of the world from all the trauma of having to see his lexicon of psycho-faces.

Open Letter to the main bitch of the ghost of L. Ron Hubbard -- Listen, I know you just lost your studio contract and all, but there have gotta be some aliens that need to have a jester, so why don't you just find yourself a new planet and try to entertain them. If all else fails, we know you love a good anal probe, so you'll have a good time with them regardless.

JUST GO AWAY TOM. NOW!

Friday Night, Chez Spinster

Tonight I was wondering -- have I gone too far in the other direction? of not believing that I will ever find real love with someone right for me. I am thinking of myself in totally solitary terms, always. I am the opposite of the sort of woman who lives in the fairy tale land of romantic love. I don't do the wishing, hoping, dreaming, pining anymore. Instead, I think of myself as outside of the realm of romantic love for good. Maybe I am too far in the opposite direction...maybe I need to believe that someday... maybe...

Because what's almost worse than being alone, is losing the dream. Thinking that romantic love just doesn't apply to me anymore and never will again. That sex is a thing of the past. That being in love with my best friend is never going to enter into my life again. I've lost my faith in love.

How can I get that back? The hopefulness? The belief that I'm still lovable despite my string of failed relationships? That my future desirability isn't measured by my past lack of success? The inate believe that a beloved exists for me, and that I am someone's beloved to be.

I think that's why my approach to others around love and sex has become cynical, and disengaged. If you don't believe the real thing is in the offing, then it becomes easy to make compromises and settle for something in the moment that isn't what you really want, but seems like the only thing being offered anyway. Now, I'm not even doing that.

I have decided that nothing is better than the wrong thing (i.e. the wrong person). I have no desire to take what I can grab in the moment. I have no desire to have fast food when I want gourmet. Yea, they both stop the gnawing hunger, but one of them is really bad for you, and you usually regret it afterwards. I don't need fast food sex hangovers. I've done it, and it's done.

Now, I'm hanging out in limbo. No sex. No love. No relationships. And definitely, dear God, no dating. I'd rather get dental work than go on a date (except if T. was here, then, we'd go out and play some 'House of the Dead', and have a blast). But a date with some new guy who comes out of the ether, uh uh, no way Jose. Not when I can get my teeth cleaned with sharp instruments. Not when I have a sock drawer to organize. Not when I can trim my cuticles. Not when there are dishes to be done, and the cat litter needs scooping. Not when there are crusty bits of iam's in my kitty's bowl that need to be scraped out, and it needs to be scrubbed with the icky sponge that I reserve for cat feeding duties only. Nope, I'm wayyyy too busy for some liquor jockey who wants to see if they can get me drunk and get a mercy fuck out of me (whether they think they are doing me a favor, or whether they are using me to do themselves a favor). No thank you.

So, what does a swinging spinster do on a Friday night then?

She blogs about the sad state of her lack d'affairs d'amour. I know, it's a move that clearly lacks swank. I gotta get my mojo workin'.

I'm supposed to at least be having cosmos with Carrie, Miranda, et al.

Oh wait, I forgot, there is no "Sex & the Suburbs". Last night; case in point.

So, what's the suburban single swankster to do? Beats the heck outta me.

Friends in deed

The last few days have been pretty good, I must say. Thanks to my lovely friend B.

Wednesday we had Indian buffet lunch together. Yum. Then she followed me to the mechanic. I dropped off my car and we went to do our laundry together. It was so much more fun, and went so much faster with someone to hang out with, and chat with.

Also, I finally tried the most awesome thing at the laundromat. They have massage chairs! I put in a buck, and after all the lifting and loading my laundry into the machines, I got to sit there and have my sore back rubbed. How perfect is that? Next time I'm going for the $5. for 15 minutes. It's a buck for 3 minutes. I did it twice. So, I got a good six minutes of massage. The thing is incredible, it's not one of those old fashioned jobbies that just vibrates. This chair actually has some kind of shiatsu balls in it that go up and down your back, and it changes motions and does all this weird stuff that actually feels pretty damn great. The best part is there are two chairs side by side, so I handed B. a dollah, and said, you gotta try this! Half the fun was looking at her face when it started up, and the other half was being able to get a chair massage side by side with a buddy at the laundrymat. It's the little things in life that make me happy.

After that we took off during the dry cycle and went to Lowe's where I picked up a scratch awl I need for my project making bottle cap necklaces. The awl is used (in conjunction with a ball peen hammer; though I'm gonna cheat and use a regular hammer until I buy the other kind) to make the hole in the metal bottle cap, so that a jump ring can be attached in order to hang the necklace from a chain or cord. If that explanation made no sense, maybe a picture of a bottle cap necklace will be more helpful. Here's a good example: http://www.the3sisters.com/images/_pcnecklaces.gif

After we finished all our laundry we went to my place and sat around and talked for a few hours, then watched some Project Runway; another of my guilty pleasure shows. This summer my TV viewing can be summed up by channel -- it's pretty much been A&E, Bravo, Showtime, TLC, DirectTV's XM digital radio 40's music channel, and NCSI (with a small smattering of Oprah on the side -- yes, I am slightly ashambed, I dunno, it's just a habit. Oddly, I have been watching her since the 80's, when she first began, so I think there is something oddly comforting about it).

Today B. was kind enough to come pick me up for our Stitch n Bitch knitting circle. So, we went to Panera bread and had dinner, saw our friends, knitted, chatted and had a really good time. There were 7 of us there, plus one boyfriend and one husband showed up for part of the evening, bringing us to a total of 9 :-) The reason I am so happy about this, is because our group used to have about 25+ women every week, and then a clique formed, it became more bitch and less stitch, and the group split up into different camps and the remaining members of the group who were not in the clique got stuck with a dwindled group for a while, and now it is being rebuilt with some of the old non-clique members, and some fresh blood. So, it's just a nice night out again, of knitting and fun; which is all it's supposed to be. Geez, save the drama for yo mamma.

So, I came home and woke my poor L. up by accident, because I called her a few minutes after 11 o'clock, and she was already asleep. (so sorry dahlink). I just had wanted to talk to her about something I knew she would understand. Almost everyone at the Stitch n Bitch is either married, or getting married, or living with someone, and a lot of the conversations were about being pregnant currently, planning to have kids, weddings, etc. I felt profoundly left out. I started to think that it's time I moved to the city, where this is not the norm. Living in suburbia in your late 30's when you're unmarried and childless can feel like living on Mars without a spacesuit. Or something like that. I am at a loss for a better metaphor.

As soon as I hung up the phone with my sleeping beauty L. something told me to call my friend T. I had not checked my email yet, and thus had not gotten his email asking me to give him a call, but I suppose I'd heard the call in my head instead. That sort of thing has been happening to me more and more lately. It happens most often with him. It sometimes happens with B., and it used to happen with my friend M., when we were more connected than we are now. It's eerie, and cool. I like when it happens. It assures me that my antennas are working and well tuned. So, T. and I talked for about 4 hours! (sorry T., I know it got late)! As always, we had a great conversation. Too bad he's in the F-L-A, otherwise, I'd want to go on a D-A-T-E (hope I made ya blush again T. woo hoo, heh).

So, dat was my Wednesday & Thursday. Not bad. Not sad. Hee hee.

Oh, and I got almost the whole sinkfulla dishes done. There was no hot water for about 12 hours or so, and some stuff pilled up, on top of the other stuff that was already pilled up. Heh. So, needless to say (I love how completely needless the phrase needless to say is, since it's always going to be followed with something someone is about to say, needlessly) I had a lot of freaking dishes to do. There are still some left, but I made quite the dent in them.

My wish for the rest of the week: It'd be nice to get my car back for the weekend, but I'm not sure that's gonna happen. I will get through the weekend okay if I don't get it back, I just don't want to miss church on Sunday night.

That's all she wrote.

Days in the Life...

Sometimes my life seems far too complicated to write about in blog form. I have a lot of layers in my life. That's why I think I haven't posted in a few days. I am wondering if I can even keep up a consistent blog. I can try. I just don't know.

Things change quickly and often for me. For instance, I got my car back on Thursday evening, and all seemed well for a while. By Monday, I broke down on a busy road, and the car was very reluctant to start again. After ten or so tries, it finally started, only to stall again about a 1/2 mile down the road. This has been going on all summer. More than $500. has been spent on these repairs. Not to mention the other $300. that was spent to get my car up to inspection approval at the start of the summer. I feel like my car is just eating money, and I wish I could afford to buy a new one, but I can't at the moment. Tomorrow, I have to get it back into the shop again, which means I will probably be without it for the rest of the week. I heave a weary sigh at the mere thought of it.

I am trying to keep my spirits up, in any and all of the ways I know how. I know I have it better than so many people in this world. I don't want to complain. I just feel a bit bummed out about this.

I went to a party this weekend. It was a mixed bag. The party was fun, and I actually meet some interesting new people, and had some good conversations, but toward the end of the night I was accosted by a drunken scumbag who wanted to discuss my weight with me. It left me feeling pretty infuriated. I don't even feel like telling the whole story. It just reminded me of how much people think they are entitled to offer their opinions on my body. It was invasive, and violating. It was part "intervention" from a total stranger, and part drunken come-on that he thought I'd welcome, as if he was doing me a favor. If he was the last man on earth and I was a size 2 I wouldn't have been interested in him because he was a gross sloppy drunken hippie in a dirty tie dye tshirt; he was facially and physically unattractive, and he had the personality of a slug. But of course, he thought I'd be grateful for his attentions and his unsolicited opinions, because, after all I'm a fat woman, and I'm supposed to be receptive to any sort of attention, cos as everyone knows I don't deserve any at all! He couldn't have been more wrong about what I thought of his attentions. He informed me that he was going to kiss me and I told him he'd better not. He told me there was a guy out there for me somewhere, and I told him that not only don't I believe that anymore, but that I am taking a complete break from dating anyway. He then assumed that my last boyfriend broke up with me because I am fat. Now I was really pissed, and I told him: "Not that it's any of your business, but you really shouldn't assume things about people, my ex-boyfriend happens to prefer larger women, his last girlfriend was fat, his next girlfriend will be fat, and I'm fat, it just doesn't matter!" He was kind of stunned. He talked a whole lot of other smack about how he's been on suicide watch for the last 2-3 years, so I turned the tables on him and his flaws, and asked him why that is. He told me it's cos he can't find the right girl. I had to stop myself from laughing in his face. He was a detestable man, of course he can't find a woman. He already tried to kiss one girl against her will as she was leaving, and made a nasty comment to another girl about how he wanted to "gang bang" her with another man that was present at the party. He was beyond yuck.

Yet, the things he said bothered me. Not because I give a damn about his opinion of me, but because people like him think they have the right to confront me about my life, my self, and my body. I mean if anyone on earth needs an intervention, it's his drunken deluded suicidal ass. But even a total worm like that thought he was superior to me, and could feel free to make comments. It just makes me realize that no matter how much dignity I attempt to carry myself with, there will always be people like him who think they have a right to get in my face about my size. Next time, I will just walk away. I think I was so shocked, and it was so late at night, well, early in the morning really, and I was so tired that I just sat there and answered him, even though a right hook to his jaw would have been the much more appropriate response (even though I would never hit someone no matter how much of a jerk they are, a guy like that makes me have a fantasy wish that I had slugged him or thrown a drink in his face).

Sunday I slept all day because I got home at 5:30am (yes, it was an all nighter party). I woke up around 6pm, and I went to church that night. It rocked. It was a really good night. Well, except for the kid in the row in front of me who was fiddling with his cell phone during the service and distracting me. He kept flipping it closed and open and the light would shine right in my eye, and he was scrolling through his menus, and it was making beeping noises, and then there were two other people whose cell's rang during the service! I swear cell phones have become a curse, even church time is not peaceful and exempt from the madness, I mean, if you HAVE to have your cell phone on, at least put it on vibrate and don't disturb other people who are there to actually spend time with God, and not just warm a seat. Aarrrrgghh!

I think that part of the problem is that the evening service is geared to teens and twenties, and they just don't have the maturity to turn off their phones and/or they are bored (like the fiddling kid). The service is for all ages though, and although it skews younger, families, couples, and individuals of all ages go to the service, because some, like me, just prefer a night service. Plus, the band is louder at night and it's considered more "caffeinated worship" (there is a warning issued that the amps go to 11 like spinal tap, so if you don't like it loud, just go to morning service). The cell fiddler kid was there with his Mother, and she wasn't saying anything to him. I'm sorry, but if that was my kid, I would have taken the phone away from him and put it in my handbag until the service was over if he couldn't stop playing with it, and distracting other people. The couple sitting next to them also kept looking over, and getting really upset cos they were having trouble paying attention to the pastor, just like I was. Perhaps I will just have to go to the morning service that is more geared to adults, or sit right in the front in the evening service. Aside from that, it was a great service. I know, that was a lot of complaining, but it's hard enough for me to concentrate. I have A.D.D. traits, and it can be very difficult for me to stay focused when stuff like that is happening.

See, this is why I don't blog. I end up focusing more on the things that bugged me over the last few days, and that just seems so negative. Those are the things that stick out in my mind though. Those may just be the things I need to vent about, which is why they come out in the blog. I dunno, I just feel like it's going to seem so negative to write about all this stuff though.

OK, I gotta close with something positive. Even though my car did break down on the way there, I managed to finally get to the church on Monday night; which was really important to me, because they were having an artist's night. It's based on the premise of "creating for The Creator". I really wanted to be there. They had one such night a few months back, but my car was in the garage. Ironically, this time, my car died on the way there, but somehow, truly on a wing & a prayer I made it there, despite the trouble on the way. I created a piece of art work I am very happy with. When I pulled in the church driveway I was on the verge of tears because of finding out that yet again, my car is not fully fixed, and not okay, but once I calmed down, I told myself to put it out of my mind entirely, and throw myself into connection with The Divine, and doing the art. The car woes could wait until I left the church. When I came out, I got in the car and it started right away. I drove off, and prayed as I went home. I was able to stop for gas, and turn off the car, and turn it back on again at the station. I drove the rest of the way in faith. I made it home safely. In the face of my car woes, I had still been able to shift my mood and create, and make something as an act of worship toward God that I am also very proud of as a piece of art. So, that was the best part of my day yesterday.

Today was a pretty good day. I did some organizing and hanging up of clothes in my room, then took a shower, and got ready to go out. My dad picked me up in the evening and we went shopping and out to dinner. I got a few very nice items at the store, I got three packages of funky fabric drawers for my 2nd wire mesh cubby drawer unit that I am going to set up in my bedroom as a dresser of sorts (each package has 3 drawers, so I am set with 9 drawers now). I also got a really lovely raspberry colored blanket that is so soft I can't even describe the material. Lastly, I got a really cool black shirt that I can't quite describe, but it's unique, and sort of has the shape of a corset front, very gothic, sorta sexy in a subdued way. Then after we were both tuckered out from shopping, we had an awesome Italian dinner. I had some salad, awesome garlic knots and bruschetta, Penne Ala Vodka, and for dessert we shared a piece of Creme Brulee Cheesecake with thick chewy Caramel top. Oh, and some very good coffee with dessert. Yum.

Came home, and watched "Workout" on Bravo. It's a reality show about a trainer, Jackie, who has opened an exclusive gym in Beverly Hills. In this episode Jackie finally ditched her psycho girlfriend. The girl was a pretty Latina spit-fire but she had to go. She was actually biting and slapping Jackie, and threw a glass at her head. Enough. A little too hot tamale!

Then I watched the Actor's Studio because Queen Latifah was the guest. I love da Queen.

I think that is really about it for me. It's a bit past 3am, so, sleeping soon would be a good idea. Dat's all she wrote.

P.S. I just realized I didn't write about the huge family problems that have been brewing. That's definitely a result of subconscious avoidance. It's not a pleasant topic, to say the least. The fact that I wrote about what TV shows I watched over the harassing calls from my brother and bitch-in-law tells me how much I hate even thinking about it. Basically, they have a beef with my Dad and are trying to drag me down in the mud too. I won't have it. The bitch-in-law called three times yesterday, hello, I have a life too, I was out stalling my car, and trying to get somewhere. If I don't call her back, she just keeps calling me at home and on my cell. Mind you this is a woman who never lets me see my two nieces, and never calls me unless she wants to try to drag me into something, and yet she expects me to want to call her back. Why should I? Especially since I know exactly how the conversation is going to go, and that it will take over an hour at the least to get her off the phone. My brother is the same way; we have minus zero relationship, and I could be dead or alive, he would never know, but if he wants me on his side against my Father, he will call me up and try to wring my veins till he gets blood. It's not enough that he abused me in myriad ways all my life, he also wants me to listen to his mad rantings and agree with him? Sorry, no can do mon frere.

Got my mojo drivin'

I have my car back. Yes. *sigh of happiness* I cannot tell you the feeling of completeness I had cruising down even the all too familiar streets of my town last night on the way home.

This looks like it's gonna be a good weekend. I have lots of plans. Now I just have to get my energy level up so I can do all of this stuff. I am supposed to go out tonight to a club for a goth/new wave/80's/etc. night. Tomorrow I have a party to attend, which should be a really good one, and have a lot of interesting characters in attendance.

Sunday I want to make it to the new church I've been wanting to go to. They have a sort of alternative service at night, so I have no excuses about morning being the drawback. I was a very close part of a church for about 4 years, but, I became increasingly disconnected over the summer, and I think it's time for me to move on. This new place seems well geared to me. There are people with tats, piercings, goths, punks, indies, etc. My kinda crowd. Plus mixed in, garden variety everyday people who are seeking something more than church as usual. Appearance is not the key, for me it's heart, spirit, mind, attitude. I prefer non-normies, but I can get along with anyone with an open heart. I just don't really care for the kinds of Christians who spend their lives in false holiness and judgement of others. Them, I have no use for. All I can do is a muster a prayer for them, because I think they are missing the boat. Where's the love? Ironically, my biggest challenge is trying to love them. I see that. I have no problem loving sinners and heathens, since I'm a sinner myself. Truth is, so are the holier than thou folks, they're just not humble enough to know it. I am a lousy Christian and I will be the first to admit it. That's exactly why I need God in my life. If I thought I didn't, I'd be in deep doo-doo.

I am going to cave in and post to this blog in a larger font for my elder homies. Heh. Seriously, I have had a request to ditch the small print, so, I hope this helps gentle reader.

There are more thoughts rattling around on my brain pan, but I've got stuff to attend to. I need food. I should do laundry (and now I can actually go out and do it). And I need to see about what kinda outfit I'm gonna wear tonight if I make it down to the club.

The Loneliness of the Long Distance Spinster...

What a week. Insular doesn't even begin to cover it. Stuck in the suburbs with no car. Now that is cruel and unusual punishment. My car is in the shop again. I feel like I have a fever, but the air conditioning is on. It's the feeling of being trapped. It makes me sweat, and I can't sleep well.

In Monday's mail I got a package from my ex-boyfriend. It contained my locking black leather collar with the tiny black padlock and key. The fuschia heart was still attached, with the words etched into the metal: Property of "blank" (his name). I gave it to him for his birthday, the present of myself. I take collaring as seriously as offering someone a ring signifying comittment. To us it meant that he was my master, my 'daddy', my lover, my playmate, my best friend, and that I was just as many things to him, in mirror image. I asked for it back, hoping it would break some invisible link between us. But "Closure" is a joke. The heart is the true slave.

Today I recieved an email from him telling me that he went to his first therapy session, and that it went well. That's good. I hope he gets help. Even though it's too late for us now, and might always be too late, even in the future.

Meanwhile, I am spinning my wheels, and my web, but getting nowhere very slowly.

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