Chapter 131: Bake for 9 to 10 years (AKA And it's more than just rhyming)

I dabble with baking, I’m no pastry chef or anything, but I do know a few simple rules about baking. The temperature of the oven has to be right, as well as timing is pretty important. If you under bake it comes out too doughy, if you over bake its burnt and more than likely dry. There are certain ingredients that are pivotal to the recipe and then others that you can experiment with. It can be easy and fun, but at the same time you can under no circumstances be a reckless baker, if you are just throwing ingredients around or you aren’t setting the oven to the right temperature, or setting the timer to remind you, then you get a mouthful of nastiness.
I’ve had almost a decade of dating experience and more of baking experience and I can’t say that I’ve learned a whole lot from it except that I enjoy baking more than dating. But I will try to pull from my shallow well of knowledge to help you see dating in a baking perspective.

The first rule of baking, the temperature has to be right. In order for dating to work out at all there has to be a form of attraction between the two people involved. If there is no attraction, nothing is going to happen. There has to be something pulling the two people together; weather it’s shallow attraction, sense of humor, common interest/cause, something’s got to be there to begin with, otherwise you are placing the dough in a broken oven and you’re going to be waiting around for a long time with no finished product in the foreseeable future.

Next - timing. Sure, you have the oven ready to go, the temperature is just right, there’s the friendly banter, the constant flirting, so now it’s all about how long to go on before you admit to each other your true feelings. There are the anxious bakers; the ones who want to shout it out right away, but that’s like taking a cake out of the oven prematurely, it deflates. D&D was an anxious baker. He kept opening the oven to see if the cake was ready and I, being the cake, was not ready. Rather I sat in the middle of the oven petrified that someone actually wanted to bake me. Enough of the analogies with me, it’s getting comical thinking of myself as a cake.
Then there is the opposite, closing the oven door and forgetting you’ve got the cake in the oven. You continue to flirt and be friendly, but you’ve left the cake in the freaking oven and you forgot to set the timer! I think we all know what happens to a cake forgotten in the oven at 350 degrees, it burns, starting at the corners and working its way into the middle. A cake, err, girl could grow cynical or bitter from the outside-in waiting for the baker to open the door and take her out of the oven. If the baker is not careful the cake could grow to hate him for leaving her in the oven so long and in the end, it is the cake that ends up hurt and temporary ruined for other bakers to enjoy.

It’s okay to experiment with some ingredients, you can choose different chips to put into the recipe for chocolate chips, and the cookie can still turn out well. Those chips could be different personalities, hair colors, body shapes, senses of humor, etc. But then there are ingredients like the egg, or the baking soda, these you cannot experiment with, the real life equivalent to the egg or baking soda depends on your standards, for some it’s that they have to be a member of the same religion, they have to share similar values. Without similar values the cookies won’t turn out right no matter if you have the temperature and the timing worked out perfectly, things on the outside will look like they are progressing smoothly, but when all is said and done they end up flat and tasting a little off, for some people, they’ll keep eating the cookies no matter what (as some people will stay in a relationship they don’t really care about just for the sake of being in a relationship) and for others they will throw the cookie out and start over.

My advice to all you young aspiring bakers (guys), pay attention to the temperature and the timer and for all you baked goods (the ladies) if you feel you’ve been in the oven too long, get out before it’s too late, and chances are it’s not going to work out with the baker that put you there. But maybe despite all the similarities between baking and dating you shouldn’t take advice from someone who thinks its okay to compare them.

Chapter 130: Dating and Baking have a whole lot in common (separate blog to follow)

I really like Sundays, but Sundays usually make me pensive, thinking about what I need to do to change my life, or wallowing in my own filthy misery. They can be great, because I will realize things that I need to do to improve myself, but they also end up leaving me feeling incredibly lonely. I don’t blame Sundays, I know it’s not the day, and I can’t really blame the ward, though being surrounded by singles, some pairing up and others eternally wandering alone like the Incredible Hulk can just get disheartening at times.
As many of you, okay, all unless you accidentally came across this blog today, know that I like B2. But lately I have begun my De-B2-inize program. Pretty much this is me backing off, some would call it quitting; others might call it seeing the light. Either way it kind of sucks. I’m trying not to wallow, and not to feel sorry for myself and today in church I even chanted, “Hope, hope, hope,” over and over again until I felt better. I mostly just ended up feeling like the little engine that could. But for me the truth is, having hope is like trying to catch a greased pig. I’m not saying it’s like that for everyone, just for me. Friday night we went on a ghost tour around the city and I took a picture of a building that I just think is beautiful, I told my friend, “If I ever get married I want to take my bridal portraits taken there.” I throw out a lot of ‘ifs’ when it comes to me getting married. My friend said, “Have hope!” They even mentioned having hope in the dating “conversation” last Sunday. Hope is an easier said than done thing for me. I’m trying to, but it seems that at the end of every social event I’m drained of it.
For example, church went well today, yes, I thought a lot about things I need to do in my life, what I could eliminate or should eliminate to enhance my time on earth. Even relief society went well and I’m trying not to be such a negative person. After church I was roaming the halls and I saw New Friend…needs a name…Cheery, because he is. So I approached Cheery who has come with B2 to Institute twice and I wrote a little about him last week. We were speaking in the hallway for a view minutes when an 18 year old walked by, I know her, so I said ‘hello’ as she was passing and he asked who she was and I felt instantly like a buddy, I didn’t ask to be a buddy, I had yet to do anything to suggest that I wanted to be a buddy and even though I know he was just trying to get to know more people my heart dropped. Maybe my time has passed, maybe I let my chance pass by when I was 19 and went down to Utah to see all the Olympic stuff and there was that one guy who seemed to really like me, but I was scared and he moved too fast for my taste. I let that one go, and sometimes I wonder if that was my one true chance. Deep down I know there are more chances, but it seems that the world is changing, and as these men wise up and realize that they do want to get married and they marry younger women there are those of us from the older generation that are abandoned to single-tude. I didn’t mean to go off on that, so Cheery is talking to this fresh high school graduate and Romania walks up and starts talking to me, I call him Romania because that’s where he was born. He’s mentally handicap and talks standing too close to me, but otherwise harmless. But Cheery finishes his conversation with the girl, turns to me (he is behind Romania’s back) gives me a goofy thumbs up and walks off. I don’t know if the thumbs up was because he finds he’s in love with the girl I, as the buddy, introduced him to, or if he is a sadist and wanted me to know how much he was going to enjoy leaving me there. Maybe my real problem with guys doesn’t lie with me; it’s in them, the cowards who can’t save a girl from an awkward conversation. Kind of ticks me off now that I’m thinking about it.
So there I am, all alone and Romania is talking to me about something and I only catch a word or two here or there, a few people pass by, none that help me, and then N.T.R. walks up and starts talking to me and for a moment I can’t decide if I am relieved or not. Then I decide to go with ‘no’ because they were both talking at the same time and it was driving me crazy and then N.T.R. says, “I hear you’re single and looking,” and I just began to shake my head and realize that I hate my life. Then Romania starts to say, “She works she’s too busy, you have to let her make the decisions,” and I realized that maybe I could handle them together, one making me uncomfortable, the other standing up for me and telling the guy ‘no’ so I don’t have to. Then N.T.R. left, Romania’s brother came to get him (but gave up and also abandoned me) and I got Romania to move towards the door his brother left through. While we were standing there Desperate (named so because he’s asked out every single one of my friends and I think he did it in a week) tried to enter the conversation and I thought, “three is enough,” I don’t need to go to church with the triple threat, it was like walking down a gauntlet, why is it like that!? Finally I told Romania he’d better not make his brother wait any longer and left the building. The thing that most bothered me was everyone kept looking at my chest today. I checked my outfit in the mirror, no black bra showing, no cleavage, nothing, why did they keep looking at my chest. I swear, less people look at my chest when I’m wearing a graphic tee than when I was talking to people for half an hour at the church building. I’ve never had to resist the urge so much to say, “My eyes are up here.” Never felt so dirty in my life.
I get to my parents house and they have the missionaries over for dinner and this lady from their ward. She’s a nice lady, I’ve never had a problem with her, but as I am walking around the table getting my food (we had buffet style) she asks me how the single’s ward is going, I tell her they are entertaining. Then she asked me about Rocket (can’t think if I’ve ever given him a name in here, but he’s Chill’s friend from church) she asks me if I have ever met Rocket and I tell her ‘yes’ I work with his sister with our callings. The missionaries (three of them) are all sitting in the room, with nothing else to listen to but our conversation. She says, “Well, he’s a cutie why don’t you go for him?” and I had to think fast on an answer other than, “He’s never asked”. So I come up with, “he’s too young,” and smiled politely and she says, “Too young!” as though being 25 and single means that there is no such thing as a boy too young for me. I hate talking about being single, why do people always bring it up. As though I’m not painfully aware that no one wants to be with me. They talk about it like I choose to be single, because being alone is what I really in my life.
Then I’m upset because like I said in the beginning to de-B2-inize. I didn’t speak to him at all today. I hate this, not him or anything, but liking someone. My mom asked me today whatever happened with B2 and I told her that he’s just that way with everyone, he’s just friendly and I let myself read too much into it, and pretty much I should slit my wrist in bath of hot water. I left out the slitting of the wrist for my mom’s sake.
After the missionaries left my sister says, “We want to hook you up with A&W.” She actually called him that too, so I figure that shall be christened his Brutally Honest name, it’s because his tie looked like A&W. He’s one of the missionaries; he’s going home in six weeks. I did the usual, making a joke about how I love root beer. But later I went up to my mom’s room and told her if she wanted to I would be okay with that. She got a big smile on her face and I told her it would never happen anyway, but what do I have to lose, but then I added to not do it in front of me that would be too embarrassing.
Seems like I’ve reached the point where I’m willing to let people set me up.

Chapter 129: Going Up?

I hate talking to married guys, more than I hate talking to single ones. It’s no secret that I am socially inept when it comes to talking to members of the opposite sex; I think that’s apparent by my dating record. But married guys are even harder for me, and I think it stems back to a summer in my college career when I worked at the catering service and a particular married manager of mine made me extremely uncomfortable and even tried to kiss me. It was the summer that I went from being naïve and carefree around married guys (because married guys used to be the safest to be friends with for me because there was no need to try to impress them) to cautious and guarded.
Well there is this married guy at work, and I found him really attractive at first, and then I found out he was married, coupled with the whole, getting to know him better takes away from the attractiveness sometimes thing. He’s a really nice guy, and he’s always been nice to me. Today as I was walking into the building he was walking in from the other door and we both happened to be taking the stairs. First off, I’m the kind of person who will slow down or speed up just to avoid being in the stairwell at the same time, or even to avoid having to go through a doorway at the same time. I blame my undiagnosed anxiety problems on that one. Needless to say girl, guy, married guy, I was already dreading the fact that we entered the building at the same time. Nothing against him, this is just the way I am, of course, he being a married guy didn’t help because I already have my problems with being alone in any capacity with a married guy. He’s making small talk with me, because as I said he’s a really friendly guy. So I try to make small talk back and sometimes when I do that and I don’t necessarily get a reaction from people I begin to wonder if I misunderstood their small talk, or if I’m not using the right words to convey what I am thinking and then I just feel stupid, or even borderline rude. Anyway, it’s just an awkward situation that I prefer to avoid altogether, so when we got up to our floor we go into different doors and I said, ‘see ya,’ and turned my back to him and walked to my door and rolled my eyes, because when I complete something that I didn’t want to do I roll my eyes, not sure why, but I’m just waiting for the day when someone catches me doing that.
Then I made the mistake of taking the elevator upstairs because whenever I see someone take the elevator it doesn’t seem to take as long, and they get upstairs before I get up the stairwell. For some reason when I take the elevator it takes forever and I sometimes even give up and take the stairs, beating the elevator. Well, I needed to go to the third floor so I decided to take the elevator, I almost gave up but it finally came to my floor and I was about to get in and there were two guys there from the paper shredding company and so it was obvious when I took a step forward and then stopped and took a step back that I didn’t want to get on the elevator. But I think they thought I thought they were getting off on that floor, which was a half thought I had. They asked if I was going up and I nodded and told them the 3rd floor and got in. Then the one in the corner asked how I was doing, the other one said, ‘hello,’ and then they spoke of the weather, and I said something in response that I didn’t even think was funny, it was just small talk and they both started to laugh like I was the wittiest elevator companion they had ever had. So we get to my floor, I tell them thank you for the elevator ride and walk off, once the doors closed behind me I rolled my eyes and went on to my destination.

Chapter 128: There are some experiences in life which should not be demanded twice from any man.

Last night I went out to eat with B2, Dog Whisperer and two others who do not have names, I’m not sure if they are going to get names either. The girl who came with us won’t be here much longer because of a mission call and the guy just got home from his mission, probably headed out to BYU in the fall. So we’ll see.
While we were out Dog Whisperer asked us to name our favorite kind of music or favorite bands. So B2 started off, naming a few, I was rather impressed with the list. Then I named a few, but I don’t do well on the spot like that so a lot of them didn’t get mentioned, then we went around until it came back to Dog Whisperer who then proceeded to go off on a diatribe of his favorite bands and why they were, and their history, and songs they have that featured other favorite artist. I drank a lot of water during that time.
Dog Whisperer took a breath and B2 took the opportunity to say, “How about favorite movies,” and then he threw in that we could only list five, he started with me. I couldn’t think of just five, so then the Dog Whisperer began and I jumped in when I was ready. Come to think of it though, no one else said their favorite movies.
Everyone was eating wings, and I know I’m going to sound motherly, but B2 looked so cute with sauce all over his face and I wanted to grab a wet nap and wipe off all the sauce. But I thought maybe that would be too intrusive. It was just funny because everyone else was being somewhat careful about it, nothing on their faces, their fingers relatively sauce free, and B2 just seemed to be struggling a bit more, or just eating with reckless abandon. Both boys on either side of me offered me some wings but I declined, I’m not a wing person, and I’m also trying not to have full on meals after 9 o’clock, I’ve been bad about that lately.
At one point B2 brought up how a good chunk of the people at church on Sunday were just summer people and I mentioned how it was a great time for a dating discussion, since most of those people were transitory. Then Dog Whisperer asked what discussion and B2 began to tell him about it and Dog Whisperer says, “I don’t think I’ve ever gone on a date,” and B2 says, “Then you’re part of the problem.” I couldn’t help but smile at that, but I didn’t want to talk about dating. So then Dog Whisperer goes on about how he asked this girl out once and she said ‘no’ and then he starts to list why she would have said that, i.e. they had only seen each other twice (meaning he just met her) or it turns out she was 17 and he was 21. So B2 turns to me and was like, “Honey (to protect my identity here, he didn’t actually call me honey) let’s say you met a guy at FHE on Monday night and then you see him again at institute, let’s say it’s a Wednesday night, and he asked you out that night, would that be weird?” I hated B2 in that moment. So I gave it a lot of thought, and then spoke honestly, I told him that it would be kind of weird, but it depends on the circumstance, I’ve had it happen before, and it was weird, but if you click with the person it wouldn’t be that creepy. If B2 had sacrificed me by putting me into a position to get asked out by Dog Whisperer I would have killed him then and there, I don’t care the social consequences, I would have stood up, shoved his chair over and possibly kicked him. After the close call I tended to turn my attention to B2’s friend who was sitting on the other side of me, mostly to just avoid conversation with Dog Whisperer. But then I felt bad because B2 was really quiet after that, he said distracted by Dog Whisperer so at first I said I didn’t feel bad because I still remember being abandoned a few weeks ago when N.T.R. had his arm wrapped around my shoulder. But then I told him I did feel kind of bad because he was still so quiet.
When we got outside B2 tried to help me orient, because I had no clue were I was in the great scheme of things, but then I saw things that were familiar, the train station, Bottom’s Up Pizza, and I realized for the first time in my life that maybe the city wasn’t as big as I had always thought it to be. Then again, we’re talking to the girl who thought Idaho Falls, Idaho was a big city until she got lost one day driving and realized that it was next to impossible to get lost…and yet I did, that should tell you something.
So I get in my car and start driving off, refusing to ask B2 how to get out because now we’ve established that the city isn’t big. So I take my chances, I figure if I keep driving I’ll start to recognize some street names. I did, and I turned the wrong way, the road became dark quickly and went further away from the city, I didn't know there were points in this road that got that way, it's always a busy road. I quickly made a U-turn and headed the other direction, surprised I hadn’t recognized the correct way the first time. Then I saw an exit for the interstate and turned on it, took a guess between heading north or south, choose the wrong one and was worried that by midnight I would be well on my way to North Carolina. I saw some familiar roads on the signs and followed them, thinking I couldn’t be that far off. I had to pay the toll and only had fifty cents so I prayed the toll was a one time thing. The bar was up so I thought briefly about zipping through and saving the fifty cents in case I needed it later, but I was an honest person so I paid and prayed. Good news, no other tolls. I continued to follow signs to familiar roads and even when I was on a road I knew I still felt panicked, as though somehow I had taken a wrong turn. But I hadn’t. I finally got home and was in bed, rather than North Carolina, before midnight. Fantastic.

Chapter 127: I didn't know Mormons couldn't send flowers. I know they can't dance

Just to update you, we did have our second part of the dating conversation. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, and I got my opportunity to throw out my smart ass remarks to Agent L and Chill (the boy I’m writing a comic book story with) because I lucked out with sitting behind them. Pretty much what I pulled from the information is that I need to stop eating and lose some serious pounds in order to be asked out, because while the guys claimed that they want someone spiritual and someone they connect with what they really had in mind was Jessica Alba joining the church on a super spiritual kick. I’ve got personality, never had a problem with that. I can be spiritual when someone isn’t ticking me off, I think I’m decent looking and even if I weren’t that’s not something that I could change, so it really leaves it to my weight. When the guys number one thing they look for in a girl is her attractiveness you have to keep in mind they aren’t only talking about a pretty face, because some of these girls they go for aren’t pretty, they’re “hot”, in other words, they’re skinny as a rail whether due to high metabolism or anorexia/bulimia, but again, it doesn’t mean that they are prettier than the girls not getting asked out, sometimes they are just skinner. Ticks me off. But I’m not here to go off on that.
After the meeting I had a strange boost of confidence, it actually started coming on before the meeting. I was walking down the hallway talking to SL-HB and one of our “leaders” (though we aren’t in the youth program anymore, I don’t know what else to call her) and she was saying how nervous she was and we were telling her it was going to be okay and SL-HB said that we all were a little nervous about the meeting and I said, “Not me, I’m cool as a cucumber,” and then the moment I said it I began to wonder if my skirt was tucked into my underwear.
But after the meeting I was joking around with the guys that I know, telling Agent L that before he moves I want to sit next to him in Sacrament because I get jealous that all these other girls get to but I have never had the honor. I didn’t go into the fact that every time the seat next to me is empty I hoped he would come sit by me, because he’s one of those guys who sits next to a different person every Sunday, it’s like freaking Coz and his DTRs, all these other girls get them but I never get one. (Still haven’t spoken to Coz by the way, I think he knows it’s best to never speak to me again).
Before the meeting I couldn’t find B2 so I sent him a text message asking where he was, and then I set my phone down and kind of forgot about it. Ten or so minutes later I reach down and check and he’s written back saying he was three rows behind me, so I turn quickly, like I’m in a scary movie or something and the bad guy has been there the whole time, and I make eye contact with this summer guy, who is attractive, but not the person I was looking for. He smiles and being the social retard that I am, I quickly looked forward again, and was too afraid to look around for B2 after that. But I finally built the courage to search again and found him. After the meeting I went to find him to ask him to come play games that night, we talked about the text, how he sent it and then looked at me for a while so that when I got the text and looked around he could smile and wave or something, who knows what, I told him it was probably the creepiest text I’ve ever received, then I told him everything that happened with the text, making eyes at the stranger and such, and then that I found him and kept staring at him until SL-HB made me turn around, of course that last, creepy stalker like thing, wasn’t true, but it was kind of funny. I invited him to games and he said he was going to hang out with Bachelor No-Go and his family, but he would try to come. I told him that it didn’t matter, I just wanted to invite him, and he could say ‘no’. I don’t want people to think they have to say ‘yes’ all the time, that’s kind of how Coz and I stopped talking. So he said he would see and I said, “Ok”. Then I left him to his wandering, talked to a few people and left. When I was in the parking lot B2 pulled up behind my car and said he was going to go hang out with No-Go’s family right then, so he should be able to make it later on, again, I just said, ok. I think a part of me knew he wasn’t going to make it, I wasn’t upset, I understood completely, I just don’t think he knew he wasn’t going to be coming over, which he didn’t, in case you’re sitting there in suspense.
So Monday rolls around, went and hung out with my sister at the gynecologist office, pretty exciting stuff, I read that guys need folic acid even more than the woman if they want to increase their chances of a healthy baby and that’s pretty much all I gained from that experience. Then we went out to eat, and from there I called in to work to see if I could take the rest of the day off and hang out with my other sister, Beans. I love all my sisters, I love them all for different things, but if I had to choose between the three of them which is my absolute favorite it would be Beans, though the one who lives here is leading a very close second. I don’t know, it could be because Beans is the mother of my favorite nephew, that may have cemented her position in the sister social hierarchy.
Then I went to FHE. I got there and I wasn’t necessarily surrounded by my comfort squad, but I took a seat and listened to a good lesson and afterwards introduced myself to a new girl to the area. Then I told the girls I was chatting with that I was going to mingle, who knew I was so social right? So I go around and say ‘hello’ to a few people but ultimately end up where I began. Newscaster Ned comes over to say something and I reach out to shake his hand, he shakes mine but I don’t let go (a trick I learned from McCormick in college, you hold on to their hand but you act like they are the ones who won’t let go, it’s fun to see who plays along and who turns red in the face). He doesn’t really seem to react, he’s talking to someone else as he’s shaking my hand anyway, so it stops shaking, and then after a few seconds he begins shaking my hand again. Then I let our hands fall to our sides and start to swing them, so he plays along. I’m a bit of a hand holding slut I’m not going to lie.
So then I let go of his hand to find other people to talk to, finally Moxie and Duff (Is that her name now?) show up…and then they leave. But they came back. They told me that they were going to go see a movie after FHE and invited me to come along, a couple other people were invited as well. SL-HB was not at FHE and therefore I am assuming was not invited, but I didn’t ask. All I know is that no matter what, if she finds out that we went and didn’t invite her she’s going to be ticked. It’s how she gets, I’ve seen it. Diva went to a movie once that SL-HB wanted to see and she got upset at Diva, but Diva was already out, why is she suddenly supposed to call and invite people who aren’t already hanging out with her? Anyway, so just putting that out there, and I’ll let you know if anything goes down with it, because I know tonight she’s going to say, “You and Moxie were out pretty late last night what did you guys do?” When really she’s thinking, “why wasn’t I invited?”
Anywho, it was pretty crowded in the house so I went to the deck and there flirted with Agent L, one of my favorite things to do, mostly because he gets this grin on his face and he shakes his head like I’m the most ridiculous person he’s ever met, I know, that’s weird to like that, but I love that reaction from him, therefore I keep saying flirtatious things to him, and I could be 100% honest in what I am saying and he’ll never take me seriously, very comforting in a way. I also went to kiss my fiancé on the cheek because Chill always kisses him on the cheek and then I stopped just before doing it and told him I was kidding (this is all going back to the strange surge of confidence since Sunday’s meeting). Then Moxie comes to tell me we’d better leave to get to the movie in time. So we all leave through the back gate, but someone needs to remind the boys that we are going (B2, Chill, and Fiancé) , Moxie was avoiding someone so she sent me back in to tell them. I walked up to Chill and Fiancé and told them that we were on the move, then I went over to B2 who went to give me a high five and so I gave him one and then held his hand for a second, like intentionally, he knew what I was doing, this whole cementing my place as the buddy crap that I keep doing because I don’t know what else to do. I let him know we were headed out to the movie, he asked if I was going too and I told him ‘yes’ and then asked if he would cuddle with me. He paused and thought about it! Then he nodded his head and I said, “You had to pause,” and started to walk away and he said something about seeing how long he had to pause in the theater. He didn’t pause long, but he did his usual, cuddling with two girls at once, which did not work well in that theater, very uncomfortable. So the whole movie I spent kind of getting ticked at him for nothing. I’m such a girl, but I think what it really boiled down to was I was trying to convince myself that he wants nothing more of me than to just be friends and I kicked myself a bit for thinking he wants to be anything else, and then I directed some anger at him and made sure I wasn’t involuntarily leaning towards him, because I didn’t want him to think that I like him as more than a friend (even though I do) and I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t a lie. When the movie was over I was in a little bit of a foul mood. Amazing how I can have a whole argument by myself and come out kind of upset with someone else. I played it off as being tired though, and oddly enough it may have all had to do with being tired because what kind of crazy does that during a movie?
We go out to eat and B2 asks if he can just ride with Moxie and Duff and Moxie keeps saying how her car is dirty and then she says that I should drive, so everyone gets into my car and they direct me to the restaurant. We get there and the hostess didn’t seem all too happy about having us there to eat, but she let us sit down anyway, seven people in one narrow booth. It was interesting. I went to get in and B2 jumped in between me and the booth and threw me off because I really was just about it get into the booth and he scooted in first, guess he was tired of standing, then I got to have Duff to the right of me and then she got to have Chill sit next to her. Pretty excited for her. But four people on one bench made for close quarters, and again, I would not have minded if I knew how I was supposed to act.
He did offer me some of his fries though, but by then I was pretty much done with eating, by the way, it was around midnight, if not later, at this point, no one should eat that late. At one point he had his arm around me and tried to feed me a fry, which I wouldn’t have minded, but again, I was done. Then he took another one and dipped it in ranch and as he was dipping it in ranch I knew he would try to put it in my mouth and I tucked in my lips in and prepared for the worst, I hate ranch, but I just leaned my head back and he gave up and fed it to himself. Also, I let him drink some of my water when he ran out; it was kind of a joke, because though you may not know, I’m a bit of a germaphobe. So I held my glass towards him like he was allowed to drink out of it, but didn’t mean it, and put it back where it was and then he took a sip, out of my straw, and I said, “Figures,” because jokes always backfire on me. Pretty much I was done with the water, but forgot and grabbed my glass later, I remembered the moment I picked up my glass, but to avoid seeming completely strange, I forced myself to take a sip, I woke up with a sore throat today, I think I might have contracted something.
When we were leaving B2 stopped on the bench to tie his shoes, so I tied one of them and then when I finished I ruffled his hair, like he was a kid brother, he laughed, but I kicked myself. I think I’ll always kick myself when I do something stupid and buddy-like. A girl could go crazy liking a guy like B2, feeling like maybe she’s on her way out of Buddyland and then every once in a while realizing that she’s just being dug in further into the intricate world of Buddyland - of the world of never being the kind of girl some guy will make his girlfriend.

Chapter 126: Well then a fox you shall be until I find your name, my foxy lady

My roommates and I were talking about positive names for a female player. Men have long had a hold of positive names for roles that aren’t necessarily positive. Stud, Daddy Mac, Stallion, even Player is a positive nickname for them. We have slut, whore, prostitute, none of which I see as especially reassuring and friendly names. We discussed that we have babe, but that’s solely based on looks, we needed a name that involved not only someone’s attractiveness but also their stellar personalities and their charismatic way with guys. So I set out on a mission to find a positive name for a girl that would be the female equivalent of a stud (though dictionarily speaking ‘stud’ only means a person regarded as physically attractive anyone who has ever used the term knows it encompasses so much more). The female equivalent of a stallion is a mare; not exactly an exciting name, nor one I would ever want to be called. The other female equivalent names were dirty or mean, so I don’t think those will work.
Moxie gave us ‘Belle’ last night, and I really liked it, but I also kept using it in a negative term. She would do something and I would say, “She’s such a belle,” the same way I would say, “She’s such a slut.” And then I would slap my mouth and try harder next time. I did get a positive use out of it once, I called her a Belle and it was completely optimistic. So last night we were telling B2 about it and he suggested ‘Foxy’. We liked it, and I think that we will use it. “She’s such a fox.” F-O-X. But my curiosity still got the best of me and I wanted to know what kind of synonyms we’re dealing with, Foxy - sly, cunning, crafty, tricky, sharp, wily, astute, shrewd, insightful, devious, sneaky, and many, many more; But seeing as I don’t imagine anyone turning to the dictionary or thesaurus when we whip out this term I think that it will still work.

Chapter 125: And this is why I don't get asked out.

Last night I finally played spin the bottle. That’s right, it took me 25 years to play a game I should have been finished with by the time I was 16. It’s sad and pathetic, but it’s one of those little milestones I looked forward to. Forget the fact that while our numbers were completely even only one boy was playing; the brave boy was B2 the other three losers sat off to the side cuddling with each other. It kind of made the game suck, because you only got one spin, and since there were no same sex kisses and there were 3 more girls than boy(s?) it meant that there were a lot of wasted turns. It would have been better if the other boys had sucked it up and played with us. It wasn’t even like we kissed on the lips, it was cheek kissing.
Cream (any thoughts on what her name should be?) kissed B2 on the cheek, then B2 had to kiss me on the cheek, and then I kissed B2 on the cheek, I kept thinking later that if I had moxie (the word not the person) then I would have turned and gotten a lip kiss, but alas, I’m this nerdy white girl who has a nervous breakdown anytime a boy even sits near me.
It’s like today at work (at the store, not my full time job), I was ringing up this large order and I happened to look up and make eye contact with this cute guy walking by. I hate making eye contact with boys because I don’t know how to react to them it’s much easier to admire them from a distance when they don’t even know you exist, much less that you are a creepy stalker. So the guy had been in the process of walking the registers to find the best line to go into (I’m assuming here since I don’t actually know). He walks by again, but I watch him out of the corner of my eye this time rather than daring to make eye contact again because that might require an action on my part, like smiling to pretend I’m a friendly person (I am actually a very friendly person and smiled most of the day). Then he stands kind of in line but not really, and it was when other people began to come up that he cemented his place in my line. So then I finish the order and move on to him, and it’s like I want to act like he’s just another customer but I have trouble with that because for some strange reason I do not want him to think I’m flirting with him. I don’t know why I feel this way because why should it matter? I can’t even postulate why I am this way, maybe it’s due to the fact that I only attract weird guys so I don’t want to encourage anyone unless I know what they are like. Doesn’t matter, even my encouragement goes to waste. People don’t pick up on it and that’s mostly because of my Buddy syndrome. Sometimes I feel like I may be flirting, but then I go and make a joke or do something stupid that bolsters my position of buddy, or maybe no one even notices any of that, maybe it’s just that no one is interested.
I’m just tired of trying to read people; it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Like trying to figure B2 out, I don’t know how to react to him because I don’t know exactly what I’m reacting to. I mean, when he says or does something, I don’t know if to play along with the joke or to take him seriously. I could go either way with him, if he’s joking I’ll joke with him, if he’s serious, great, I most certainly wouldn’t mind taking him seriously. I’d be a heck of a lot more comfortable in our interactions that’s for sure. I don’t want to make an idiot of myself if he’s just playing around and just wants to be friends as I get “Charmed” more and more each time we are together. I’m just wondering if I am missing something, if for some reason I’m not seeing everything as clear and straightforward as it is.
Maybe I'm just running on too little sleep right now and need to go to bed.

Chapter 124: I know I said I wouldn't, but hear me out.

I took this post away because I was ashamed of how I acted. But this blog is not about showing my better side, this blog was always about being honest, so to be honest, I am reposting it.

I know that I promised that I wouldn’t write but I didn’t realized I would be so pissed tonight that I wouldn’t be able to think straight. I tried running, I don’t think I cleared a mile, but my head was killing me (my cerebral hemorrhaging) so I needed to turn around.
Coz is a freaking moron; I talked to him on Tuesday about setting up a time that he could let me into the stupid house so I could clean the freaking carpets, because Diva and MM wouldn’t give me a damn key to let myself in the house. If you know Coz and you know his mom then you’d understand why they should just have given me a freaking key. So Tuesday when I left him we had agreed Thursday at 5:30. Then he e-mailed me Wednesday asking if we could push it back to 6. That’s fine, half an hour is fine. So I told him so. Today, the day we were supposed to meet at the house. I went to the store and rented the freaking carpet cleaner, I bought some solution too so that I could get the job done. I head over to the house; I arrive a few minutes past 6. I’m on the phone with my friend and let her keep talking for a while, if Coz calls I would see that and switch over and if he showed up I would have ended the conversation. 6:17 I tell my friend that I should hang up and call Coz because he’s late. I call him around 6:20 and the moron doesn’t pick up his freaking phone. So I leave a message, trying not to sound as completely pissed off as I was. I told him that I rented the carpet cleaner and I was at the house because we agreed on six freaking o’clock. I can’t remember what else I said, except that if he got that message soon he should call me back; otherwise I’d have to work something out. Well, here’s a thought, how about my foot up your ass? Because I’m so pissed that I set aside a time to meet you at the house, and you pushed back, but I was fine with that, what pissed me off and made me so irate was the fact that you weren’t there at 6, you hadn’t called or e-mailed to tell me that you wouldn’t there, and you didn’t pick up your damn phone when I called. So up yours Coz!
So I leave at 6:30, take the machine back to the store, turns out it’s a non-refundable thing, you should probably be pretty damn certain when you rent it that you want to rent it. What the hell, I thought I was, turns out I wasn’t, $40 freaking bucks that I don’t have to spare down the freaking drain. I buy some groceries because I’ve been putting that off as well because I don’t really have a lot of free time on my hands, that’s usually at work when I have nothing to do, when I’m out of work I have things I have to do, sitting in front of a house I never want to go back into is not something on my list of things I want or have to do. Cleaning the damn carpets, was something I had to do, but it is marked off my list, and those of you involved in this ridiculous, blood pressure raising shit should be expecting a letter from me shortly describing why I never want to hear about carpet cleaning ever again. So I’ve got things to do again, believe it or not, I know it’s so freaking difficult to fathom, but the reason I set up a time and a place is so that I don’t waste what little time I have when I’m not at work or trying to sleep.
I run my groceries home and then speed off to meet up with my friends for a movie I planned before I planned the dumb carpet cleaning with Coz. My life is not going on hold for those dumb carpets. 7:50, still no word from Coz. Movie starts, phone is on silent. Coz calls, during the previews, I can’t guarantee that the words coming out of my mouth were clean. I hit ignore, I’m not picking up for that freaking idiot. I feel my phone vibrating later, it’s him again. Movie ends, I check my phone, two missed calls from Coz and a text message. The text message was from 9 o’clock. He says, and I quote, “Hey girl, I am ready to go over the house anytime, I am just chillin at home.” Chill this. I was ready to go over the house at 6, like we had agreed; I’m not ready to go to the house at 9. I’ve already returned the machine, because I don’t have any other time that I could go to the house within the 24 hours I had the machine. I had the time that I set up, I was going to get it done in that time. I don’t have time tomorrow, I’m not going over to the freaking house at 9 pm to clean carpets, there’s no chance in hell. I’d have to return it by 6 o’clock Friday so that I don’t have to pay for another day. I want to punch his face in, I want to go to his freaking house and give him hell. Because I have never been disrespected this badly, and he doesn’t seem to think he has done anything wrong. And I know how he’ll be on Sunday, coming up and acting like he’s done nothing wrong and putting on a show like he gives a damn. He’ll touch my shoulders and my arms and be all, “What’s the matter, why you mad at me,” and I’ll pull my arm away and I’ll ask him if I’m his girlfriend, and when he says, ‘no’, I’ll ask him if I’m his sister, and when he says ‘no’, I’ll ask him if I’m his mother, and when he says ‘no’ to that, then I’ll tell him he has no right to ever touch me, and if he does, I’ll break his fingers one by one, and pull off the fragments and shove them down his throat. I swear that if he shows up at the house on Friday night for our party I’ll beat the living shit out of him, because I will not put up with this, I don’t have to put up with this. Who am I kidding, I’m going to give him the cold shoulder, or I’m going to give him verbal hell, depends on how I feel and how many people can hear.
I’m just trying to figure out why he thinks I’d be at his beck and call; I didn’t think that he would at be at mine. That’s why I set up a time with him. I’m half tempted to texted him back and say, “Go to Hell,” pull a good old Eeyore on his ass.
The worst part is, I’m pissed at myself for not controlling my temper, and for saying aloud with every “Freaking” I wrote the word it is meant to replace. I’m so sick and tired of the people here. I’m sick of my calling, and everything falling on me for some reason, I mean, the people in the ward actually think that I’m the Relief Society President, that’s a problem because I am most certainly not.
I told the others in the presidency that I won’t be there the first weekend in July; I have finally reconciled myself with the fact that a dying aunt is more important than being at the ward on that Sunday. So then the President who doesn’t have a name writes back and says I brought up a good point, she might not be there either and she hopes the other two will. Well, Nurse Betty writes and says she’s going camping with the family, big surprise she’s never there anyway. That leaves it all on SL-HB (Who I’m getting along with pretty well now that she’s been gone for a week house sitting). So I e-mail that we can get someone else to teach on Sunday because SL-HB shouldn’t have to conduct and then turn right around and teach too, being a one man show. President writes back and says that a member of the presidency has to teach on the first Sunday. Really? Because we had Eeyore teach once and he’s not even a member of Relief Society much less the presidency. President says that’s just how it is. Well, I win, no matter what, I don’t think her plans can trump a dying aunt. I’m always there, that weekend will be her third in a row not there! So if she’s so stubborn about having a member of the presidency teach then she’s going to have to change her plans. I just don’t see the value in me continuing to go to the ward. I could go to the branch; I could go to my parents ward. I’d still go to FHE, Institute, some Enrichment activities, Regional activities, etc. Plenty of my friends have stopped going to the ward and they still survive socially. Maybe I’ll start trying it out, I mean, do I really want to go to a ward where I can’t even enjoy Sunday anymore because President always has something she needs me to do that has nothing to do with my calling, do I really care that much about being near people my age during church? I’d rather be alone and able to concentrate on the things being taught in church, than surrounded by people my age and unable to concentrate because President is constantly telling me something else that she needs to do. Besides any other ward is closer than Single’s and gas prices are on the rise. I’ll have to make a Pros and Cons list, but at the moment I am leaning towards not being anywhere near Coz or President. And I hate feeling the way that I’m feeling right now, and I know I should be able to control it, but maybe another part is avoiding the cause.

Chapter 123: Witness Protection

I swear I will stop writing for at least until Monday. I won't write at all tomorrow and if I do I won't post it until Monday, I've just been so bored lately.

So, as discussed a few blogs ago my new name is Honey. It is also the name I am referred to in another blog. I figured that if it’s to be my new name I should identify with it so I looked it up on Wikipedia, the source for all of life’s answers.
Honey is a viscous fluid produced by honey bees – viscous, being interpreted tacky, gelatinous, glutinous, thick…yeah, sounds about right.
Honey stipulates a pure product that does not allow for the addition of any other substance – Pretty much true, I’m pure and I have trouble accepting new additions to my social circle.
It is important to note that honey frequently contains dormant endospores of a bacterium which can be dangerous to infants. – Might have something to do with the reason I don’t hold new born babies, and it’s probably just best not to leave me alone with any children, I don’t agree with too many of them.
Here’s my favorite part, what happens when you get too much of me - Honey intoxication – symptoms include: dizziness, weakness, excessive perspiration, nausea, and vomiting. Less common symptoms are: low blood pressure, shock, heart rhythm irregularities, and convulsions. Hmm…Sounds about right because I seem to have that effect on people, hopefully on members of the opposite sex and in more of a positive light rather than slowly poisoning people.
Personally I think honey sounds a little dangerous, and I’m okay with that.

Chapter 122: My! People come and go so quickly here!

I found out today that Temp is leaving, because guess who is coming back? Only my favorite temp of all three that I have experienced in my short career here, she’ll need a name but in the mean time, let’s call her Dilbert, because even in her absence she sent me a Dilbert comic in the mail because it was funny and she knows I love Dilbert. So Dilbert is coming back on as full-time, permanent! I found out this morning and I’m so excited! Right now my boss is talking to her, setting everything up. And I know this is horrible but I’m singing, “Ding Dong the witch is dead,” in my head, not really sure why, I don’t think that Temp is a witch, in fact she’s super nice, maybe a little too nice. Like I said, this is the woman who talks to me like I’m a preschooler and to top it off she thinks she knows more about movies than I do. Yesterday she tried to tell me that Heath Ledger is the lead actor in Count of Monte Cristo, uh, excuse me, my boyfriend, Jim Caviezel is the lead actor, it’s the only reason I went to Idaho Falls, ID to watch the movie in theaters. I love him, and I think I can tell the difference between Health Ledger and Jim Caviezel, thank you very much.
But I do feel a little bad because she’s e-mailing me about nonchalant topics because she thinks that we are friends and I’m responding nicely thinking, “not that much longer,” and I can hear her on the phone in her cubicle and it got me wondering, when is Boss-Lady going to tell Temp she’s going? That’s the awkward part. It’s like when I knew that Grouchy was getting canned before Dilbert came along, but I wasn’t allowed to say anything, not that I would want to be the one to say, “Hey by the way, we no longer need your services, we found another temp.” But it was hard when she said, “See you Monday,” and I knew I wouldn’t see her Monday. I just hope that Boss-Lady tells Temp, but no one is going to make her, that’s the hard life of temps, the agency calls you on Friday night and says, “You don’t need to report to work on Monday; we’ll start looking for a new position for you.”
So I’m conflicted, not enough to let it ruin my day, but conflicted none the less.
In the meantime, I hit my head pretty hard last night. Felt sick to my stomach right before going to bed and woke up with a headache. Still feel nauseated, I think I’m suffering from cerebral hemorrhaging, actually I just looked it up and by technical definition; I am not suffering from cerebral hemorrhaging. But that’s not to say that I’m not hemorrhaging cerebrally. The only symptoms I really seem to have are drowsiness, severe headache and the desire to throw up, though the desire isn’t actually on the list, the real symptom goes beyond the desire and straight to the action. Ah, well, I’m sure I’ll be fine by lunch time.

Chapter 121: Holy Hannah

So today I found out that Mr. Collins is engaged. Wow. That’s all I can say, wow. I wonder to whom. Charlotte! That’s her name, I was talking to Moxie (formerly known as Dino) and I think it was just last night when we were trying to figure out the name of Elizabeth Bennett’s friend who married Mr. Collins, I couldn’t for the life of me remember and just in this instant I have, Charlotte. So whoever this girl is her name is now Charlotte.
I guess I should have seen this coming, Mr. Collins does get married well before Elizabeth, and the comforting thing for me is that I have always struggled since naming him Mr. Collins as to who I really am in the novel. At first I assumed the position of Elizabeth, but as life went on I thought, “who am I to say I’m Elizabeth,” in fact this is what I was saying to Moxie last night, because I wanted to say, “Who’s to say I’m not Charlotte,” but at the time I couldn’t remember her name so it came out as, “Who’s to say I’m not that one chick, you know, Elizabeth’s friend who married Mr. Collins.” See how much depth is lost when you can’t remember a simple name? Anyway, the comfort comes from the fact that now I don’t have to be Charlotte, not that I was ever going to assume the role of Charlotte, but I did worry that it might be the only option. Now it’s not an option, jumping for joy, and I can’t be Jane, because Mr. Bingley has found his Jane. So I think it’s officially narrowed down to Elizabeth, Kitty, Lydia, or Mary. Hopefully not Lydia, she’s a slut, and I don’t think I would end up being like her, but quite possibly I could be Mary…that would be tragic.
I still can’t wrap my mind around the fact that Mr. Collins is engaged, and I have to admit that I feel lighter, greatly relieved that he has finally found someone who thinks that they could put up with him and his magic tricks for eternity. Part of me worries though, what if it doesn’t go through, what if he’s just saying he is but he’s not, I mean, there’s no mention of who this girl is, how are we supposed to know that she is real? Well, best of luck to him, I hope she’s real and I hope she goes through with it.

Chapter 120: Marvel Universe

Last night I had a chance to hang out with B2 and some other people from our Institute class. Since its summer and the two classes merged for the semester the Dog Whisperer is now attending our class. I have no problems with the Dog Whisperer except that he’s one of those people where when he’s talking I want to close my eyes and pretend I’m asleep. This method works well at home, sitting around the dinner table when my sister-in-law or Thorn is talking, but I’m afraid it doesn’t work so well in a public place. I think I blend at home, but anywhere else it just might be seen for what it is.
Four boys and I (yes, I was the only girl, totally reminded me of high school) went to River City Diner, which I was excited about because not only do they have excellent fries, but they have Norman Bates. I hope Ducky will remember our waiter from the last time we went there. He’s absolutely charming and her and I couldn’t help but see some similarities between our waiter and Norman Bates…before he became psychotic. When we got out of our cars I mentioned how excited I was because of Norman Bates, and I called him that so of course anyone familiar with Psycho, which was all of them, looked at me funny and I just said, “He’s so charming,” like I would have said “These mashed potatoes are so creamy.” When we got closer to the door I saw him! Norman Bates! So I leaned into B2 and said, “He’s here, I’m so excited!” He’s my favorite waiter in the whole city. So we sit upstairs in a booth and the cook comes upstairs to tell us that he’s cleaned up most everything in the kitchen, but the deep fryer is going, so be easy on him. I suppose I can understand, I mean I used to work in a deli and we would clean up as much as we could, especially on slow nights. So we looked at the menu and tried to choose from our limited selections. The Dog Whisperer tried to order a burger and a milkshake and he was informed that neither were available. So four of us just got the chicken fingers, but didn’t get the fries, not on purpose, when we ordered chicken fingers we meant with fries and he thought without.
The entire time we were there it was always a conversation competition with the Dog Whisperer and someone else. He talks nonstop! Marvel this and Marvel that, then he threw in Transformers (reminding me of Ducky and the head banging) and went back to Marvel universe. Everything related back to comics in one way or another. I drank two glasses of water just because when I was drinking I was looking down at the glass. It was the closest I could get to pretending I was sleeping.
The new kid to the group asked Norman Bates if they had honey and he pointed over by me because I was sitting next to it, so I said, “I can take care of that for you.” And gave him a packet. Then the Dog Whisperer asked, “Could I have some honey.” And I started to giggle to myself because it was like he was calling me honey. B2 caught on and laughed a little and then the rest of the table followed. Then the Dog Whisperer said that honey was terrific or something like that and B2 said, “yeah we all think so.” Which got everyone laughing again because my new name was honey, I laughed and looked at the ceiling and said, “I love hanging out with all guys.” And I meant it, they are so funny. But then Dog Whisperer said, “Honey is fascinating” about to go into a diatribe about the medicinal purposes of honey, and I threw my hair behind my shoulder and said, “I know,” and everyone kind of smiled and I said, “Oh, are we not talking about me anymore?” acting like I didn’t know. It was pretty fun.
No one at the table would really make eye contact with the Dog Whisperer, and I had on a few occasions so every time he was talking he would look at me, when my head was down drinking water or slowly eating my chicken I could feel his voice projected towards me, I would look up and sure enough it was like he’d given up on the guys. B2 was sitting across from me so I looked over at him and gave him a, “this is awkward” smile. The only time I was able to not have The Dog Whisperer’s conversation directed at me was when he asked if anyone was a fan of Star Wars. I said I had seen the original three films a long time ago, so I liked them, but wouldn’t say I was a fan (not like with Indiana Jones, he’s so handsome!) The others in the group kind of said the same thing…except for B2. He made the mistake of saying he was a fan. So I returned a favor to B2 that I’ve been meaning to return for about 2 weeks. I abandoned him in an uncomfortable situation and began to talk to the two other boys with us. I always get my revenge. (Oh I don’t think I ever wrote about that in here, well, there’s this new guy at church who makes all the girls uncomfortable and two weeks ago B2 and I had been talking and this guy walks up, puts his arm around me and tells B2 he’s in love with me. Not much later B2 gets up and walks over to talk to someone else, leaving me all alone with this guy. Luckily new best friend, Kermit comes over and saved me from it. Thanks a lot B2, you’re so chivalrous).
Then we were done and paid for so we got up to leave. Once outside B2 came up to walk beside me and said, “It was like I was watching an awkward date between you and the Dog Whisperer.” I asked him if he enjoyed the show.
It was interesting; everything The Dog Whisperer saw reminded him of either comics or dogs. A truck passed us on the way to the cars and he said, “You know the poster that truck had? It reminds me of this dog at the shelter,” and told us what they named the dog, Bahama Mama, so I said for short they could call the dog ‘Bah’ and then B2 said, “or Mama”. So I conceded that “mama” was the better nickname and he kept saying, “Or Bah,” and I told him it wasn’t going to make me feel better.
Then the evening ended, I went home and almost died because of a huge, light caramel colored spider that was the size of a nickel, if not a quarter and ran super fast. I thought I killed him, but I couldn’t’ find his body this morning, so who knows if he will be returning, it’s like N.T.R. our cockroach that lives in the fireplace. Thought he was gone, but as the cartoon (can’t remember which one because I was a lot younger when I saw it) with the dancing, diva, cockroaches whose last words to the song were, “roaches never die.” If anyone remembers seeing that cartoon please let me know, I’m dying to know where it came from since it just came to mind.

Chapter 119: I was Trying to be an Optimist Today

So my sister just e-mailed me to inform me that my aunt is dying. Not Thorn, but one of my dad’s sisters. She has cancer and they think it may be stage 4, which means that they won’t operate. She’s going to the doctor on Thursday, but again, if it is stage 4 then whatever they find they won’t operate. Right now they give her six months to a year.
I don’t know what it is, whether it be I have trouble realizing the truth when people are far away or if it is because I’m not close with her but my initial reaction was, well, obsolete, I didn’t really have a reaction. My sister told me that they want to get everyone together in Michigan July 4th and all I could think was, “I teach that Sunday,” I kept thinking, I have to teach that Sunday, I need to so that the lesson goes along with the Enrichment planned the Saturday after. So I looked at my calendar to see if we could do it a different weekend, seeing if I had an “opening”, then I remembered that everyone would be together on the 4th What a horrible person I am that I found something more important than my dying aunt. I’m trying to tell myself that people handle these situations differently, and maybe the way I handle it is the type of person I always hated in the movies, the one who needs to keep going like nothing just happened.
The only consolation I really have is that the longer I let it set in the more upset I become. Normalcy. Even then it didn’t stop me from asking my sister if she thought we could get back in time on that Sunday for me to teach. But I also threw in there if not then I still intend to go to Michigan, I’ll just get someone else to teach the lesson. I keep asking myself why that’s so important. Because really, it’s not, not when compared to someone in the family dying, having her days numbered. I have plenty of time to teach lessons and hang out with friends. I wish I hadn’t asked her about being back in time on Sunday, and I can only hope that she understands I don’t handle these things well, it’s not like I have a lot of experience in losing people. I suppose part of me keeps thinking that until Thursday this could all be something easily fixed.
It certainly does put life in perspective. Last night I was in self-pity mode. You were spared because I wrote down all this junk you don’t care to read and then I deleted it. Then you got the blog you had, which may have been mellow, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. So with all this self-pity I was drowning in I woke up this morning and wished to be hit by a car. Didn’t happen though, as you can probably tell. I check my e-mail at work and my mom has sent me an e-mail about a dog that walks on his hind legs, out of necessity, he only has his hind legs, and while he could maybe get some wheels, somehow this dog had the determination that most humans lack and learned to walk like a person. My mom’s comment, “Another reason why we should never complain,” well thanks mom, you’ve really made me feel better. A dog has more drive and determination than your daughter. Somehow it didn’t inspire me. It got me teary eyed, a little sad, and yes, I suppose it reached my mom’s objective, for thirty minutes I felt as though I shouldn’t complain about anything. But being the selfish creature that I am, 30 minutes later I complained that I was bored. I wish I was a dog with only two legs and learned to walk on them like a human, because then I would be special, then I would have drive, and I wouldn’t have to sit at this computer wondering if I’ll ever do anything of importance or be a better person than I am today - some selfish brat who doesn’t immediately jump on the band wagon to visit a dying aunt.
I was listening to a song this morning and they said something about being jaded, and I thought, “Yup, that’s me.” I hate being jaded. Dino gets to have moxie, and I get to be jaded. So my goal from this day forward is to not be jaded, I don’t want to be a pessimist, I don’t want to hate myself. I mean, I was reading my old blog and I could observe people but still be funny, but at the end of the blog it didn’t sit with me like greasy food, it was an observation, it was over, and life moved on. So the goal – to be the old me, because while neither one of us is getting me a boyfriend, I might as well be happier with myself. I did intend to be more optimistic today, and maybe I just have to get this stuff out now, and maybe the things that seem like they have brought my day down are really just going to be the inspiration to not waste anymore time. I’m siding with the latter and hope I can remember them as a positive influence rather than an excuse to be jaded.

Chapter 118: Beating the Dead Horse

Right now I am watching The Village. I love this movie, not because it’s some masterpiece of art, but I love the love story. It makes me think that maybe I’m in love with the idea of being in love. I want a Lucius Hunt. I want to feel so certain that a guy likes me that I can by like Ivy Walker and just tell him how it is. But the truth of it is, I don’t know if I’ll ever be sure about the way someone feels about me. People are so afraid to put themselves on the line, I’m one of the worst of course, that sometimes I wonder at how anyone ever gets together.
Yesterday at church they cancelled the last two hours so that we could devote it to talking about dating. Mostly, why we thought no one dates. I feel sometimes that talking about dating is like a broken record, it skips and repeats and is obviously not working the way it is supposed to, and yet we keep trying to see if we can fix it, but it just might be something that we can’t fix.
They divided the girls and the boys into two separate rooms and I hate to admit but I sat in the back and I gave minimal participation. I spoke here or there, but mostly I spent two hours ignoring the things I already knew would be said. So I’m afraid I can’t be much of a source for what happened. All I really know is that after the meetings the boys and the girls wouldn’t look at each other for a while, like when we were in middle school and had to separate for sex education.
I stayed after and talked to B2, he asked me what we talked about and I tried to tell him, but then realized how little I had paid attention. What would be made up and what would have actually happened?
I want to date, I’m tired of waiting, I’d like some answers. But the honest truth is that not dating is like cancer, there’s never just one cause, and a cure for either is highly unlikely at this point in time, there may be advances, but no cure in my lifetime. For all I know people don’t date because of the fumes from microwave popcorn. The best you can do is hope that all the different carcinogens don’t gang up on you and leave you perpetually single.