Trying to let...

I've had it with the people standing on the corners with cardboard signs. No, I have no money for you. If I give money to you will you NOT give the "you cheap bastard stare" at me the next time I see you here? I think not. Why do I feel so guilty for having money? Argh.

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The older I get the less obvious I want to be about needing people. Pride. I don't want to look weak or seem needy. Therefore, I don't really tell anyone everything that's going on in my life and what I need.

I found out that Grandpa is going to sell the house. The house that holds the happiest memories of my childhood. The ones I never want to forget.

I was going to tell a friend about it the other day but he was droning on about something. I called a friend yesterday to try to tell her but she was busy and had to leave. I have all kinds of excuses for not telling anyone the whole truth.

It's just a building, some land and a river. That's it. That's where my heart is...that's home.

I'm being a child about not wanting to let go but I've been forced to give up far too much already this year. I'm afraid.

Your drink sir

One Single Malt Whisky flavoured vodka for Mr. PB Curtis coming right up!

The face

I'm a reactionist. That's what I do. I don't even know what I've done until it's over.

Gym class, ninth grade, we were playing dodgeball. My teacher was standing a few feet away from me and beemed the ball dead-on into my face. I called him an asshole and punched him in the stomach. I'm a survivor, I will fight to live I guess.

My house, in college, spring 1992 my roommate and I were throwing a ragin' party. Good times I tell ya. This guy was taking way too long in the bathroom so I started pounding on the door. Apparently, I pissed him off. I was drunk and he was in my bathroom with my *only* toilet. He swung the door open and it hit me on the right side of my face. I went into my non-thinking mode and punched him in the gut, grabbed my face and screamed fuck you. Later on, he apologized and then we made out for the rest of the night. A day or so later I got a black eye. At least I didn't fuck him.

Tonight, I played dodgeball with friends in a rented gym. It was me and about 30 guys. The friend that invited me had no idea that other women weren't invited. I played anyway. I sucked but at least I tried. After 2 hours of dodgeball I was a little tired and I was playing the last game. I went to pick up a ball and again, a guy, a few feet away from me, beemed me in the face. I looked at him and snarled, "Fuck you, you fucking asshole". He was lucky I didn't punch him. Later I apologized, was honest, said that it startled me and the words just came out.

Moral of the story: don't hit me in the face.

Mr. Super

I met a guy tonight that I had a hard time conversing with because he is so metrosexual it is distracting. His hair had enough products in it that it looked plastic. The worst part was that he put something on his face to make it shiny. It was blinding me! I think it's great that men want to look their best but it is a little disconcerting when they take longer to get ready than I do.

Galbi

Listening to: Ofra Haza

While running errands today I walked by a make-up counter in a department store. It was obvious that I was not there to buy cosmetics but the salesperson, Venice, stopped me anyway. She asked if I wanted her to figure out my foundation color.

Why not? I stopped, sat in the chair and let her match one of the bottles to the color of my face. Venice has a pretty neat background. She's Jamaican and ended up in Denver via London. Anyway, She matched my color and then put make-up on the rest of my face. I didn't ask her to. I wasn't in a hurry, she was bored and stopped me. I was doing her a favor by helping her day go by faster. The store was barren; I was one of maybe ten customers shopping.

When she was done she said, "So can I package all that up for you?"

I replied, "No, I wasn't shopping for cosmetics today."

Venice then said, "Well, that's what normally happens after I spend all that time doing a person's make-up."

Holy crap! She was trying to guilt me into buying! Bite me. I fucked off...

Speak about destruction

I figured out if a guy I'm dating is someone I should continue to be with or not. I have to ask myself if I see him as ever being wine-worthy. I have a great bottle of wine that Grandpa (he made it) gave to me. I don't want to share it with just anyone. If I know for sure that he will not be trying it, I just let him go. I don't have the typical pro and cons list. Those are rude; if you have to make a list then you probably shouldn't be dating.

Now about my evening jaunt around town:
Luckily I didn't flip my lid. I met a bunch of friends at the Irish Snug for a few beers tonight. Then, the ass whacker that I hooked up with one night six months ago showed up. Ass whacker is too mean; putz is a little more appropriate. Every time he opens his mouth his comments are demeaning and rude. He is not a nice person. The other thing is that he kisses and tells. That's disrespectful.

Anyway, he stares at me still. If you aren't going to treat me with any respect or decency then you don't get to stare at me either. Argh. I said goodbye to my friends and just walked by him like he wasn't there. Should I have taken the high road and said something to him? No, not tonight, I wasn't in the mood to deal. I was in a good mood and he would have been a cock sucker to me.

I hate that I give him this much energy and time. He's not wine-worthy.