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It had to be said. Time to do a real journal update, with tidbits of info that might be interesting, say, next year or maybe when I'm 100? Yeah...like I have that many years left. WAhahaha. Skip it, as usual, because I'm rambling. Plus reader beware; I got kinda racy in there, although not NEARLY as bad as the crap I read all day. Just a little TMI, I'm thinking. O_o

So?!



I give GREAT advice!
I just never heed it myself. Which is stupid. And so was that sentence, because it was redundant. If you have no expectations, there can be no disappointments. I pride myself on employing the Life Of Low to No Expectations At All, and yet still, someone will sure enough sneak in and actually get away with letting me down. And why? Because I TRUST THEM. Usually, it's their idea, and they drop the ball (re: see ALL psycho entries...same story, different day). "I'll do this and that" with me saying NOTHING, and then peter out SO BAD that I can't believe I ever...well, believed anything that person said to start with. I'm really a harsh taskmaster, too; once someone lets me down like that, they don't achieve their former "trustworthy" status ever again. Like EVER. Disappoint me seriously ONE TIME and that's it.

And again, this is only with men. However, now that I think about it, my girlfriends NEVER disappoint. They don't MAKE promises. They just show up from Chicago when I'm suddenly hospitalized :-D Awwwwwwwwwww. Anyyyyyyway. I shouldn't be SURPRISED when it happens. I simply feel that I should have no dealings whatsoever with the opposite sex. As much as I'd LOVE to think that I think like a man, I don't say "I'll bring you dinner back" on my own, and then not only step UP my own dinner, but forget YOURS. I don't DO THAT. *scream* And I think I've gone over this one enough.

And the whole list thing. Yup. No more needs to be said about all that.

So I'm left to seriously wonder...if I'll ever have another "real relationship" again? I mean, is life through with me and relationships? Am I paying for all that meanness in my youth (er, and NOW)? Is this some cosmic revenge, that dooms me forevermore to no good head rubs and no orgasms?! I'm just wondering. Because MAN. I *am* in my PRIME. And I WANT A HEAD RUB. AND A BACK RUB. AND...AND...yeah. I *want*.

What I needed used to be enough. Am I becoming MORE peculiar/picky/standoffish than I used to be? Actually, I was forced to ask myself that question just TODAY while at work. I'm SO QUICK to blow men off with a nod, or a kick...I push them away, ALL of them, and for no good reason. It's all business (and quick at that), and I'm out. I no longer make small talk like I used to. When did I change? Was it that year's time out I took that hardened me, once I learned the secrets to mysteries particularly to my life, love and relationships? And if so, am I stuck in this singular pergatory, um, forever, never finding someone decent/qualified/age-appropriate? Yeah, yeah, if it's meant to be, it'll happen. WHATEVER. We make things happen or not. I'm not exactly encouraging the opposite sex. If anything, I'm meaner and more stiff-lipped than ever.

I'm turning into that cat lady who used to live next door to the candy store.


OMG. I AM. I FEEL IT. She used to get the garden hose after us if we stepped one FOOT in her yard. THAT'S ME. ACK.

Instead of accomplishing some wise, self-discovery thing, I think I destroyed my social life completely. Or maybe marriage did that. Orrrr maybe REALLY BAD CHOICES. Whatever the case, I'm dangerously close to calling up Z and making an appointment. NO ONE is as unsocial as I am, not even the ones who don't have a choice. LOL. Mkay...that wasn't funny. Well, maybe it was. Or am I wondering all this crap because I'm so, drastically different than I was even three years' ago? Really, that no-orgasm thing is bugging me BIG time. It wouldn't matter if I was one of the sad, 75% who never experience them. Er...I used to CONSISTENTLY have them 100% of the time with um...yeah, before my *real* divorce. So WHAT'S UP WITH ALL THAT? And now, I've totally bound over the line of civility, and won't say another word about other people, or even "self gratification" as there will be minors who happen upon the pages of this discombobulated journal.

I think it's REAL safe to say I'm having a bad, bad day. I'm not blaming anyone, nor pointing fingers as I realize it was what I made it. But now it's over, and I can't snatch it back. And I'm left feeling like this, with only myself to blame. It ain't purty.

Yeah okay, the lighter side of today
The same guy who "rescued" me from running out of gas found me slamming against the soda machine in our break room, and came to my rescue again. Or tried to. For the FOURTH TIME in a five-working-day-period, the freakin' soda machine locked up on my 7-up. There it was, hanging on for dear life, not daring to slide down the chute and into the delivery hole. HOW MAD WAS I??? And the Buffalo Rock guy MOVED the 7-Up just last week! Is it the bottle design? Does it weight more than other sodas? WHYYY, GOD WHY?? That's NOT my fault. But he and I were there, shaking and trying to nudge my obstinant 7-up from the evil grips of the plastic holder-thingies. Then it occurred to me that yes, five years' ago, I could've rocked that machine. NOW, I weigh a whopping 100 lbs, and I'm not thinking *my* contribution was necessary. He even made a comment to that effect. Er...HEY THANKS BUDDY. Still...I thought it was stupid of 7-Up and sweet of him. :-D

See, he's SAFE. He's MARRIED. I have nothing to fear from him, so of COURSE I like him.

Doh.

Then, I watched a leaf for a good 10-15 minutes spiral down from a tree, only to be swept back up into the sky by the wind, wondering where it would end up. My days are so eventful and exciting! No WONDER I get hateful anonymous threats! *eyeroll*

I also went on a "I hate a liar/manipulator" tangeant with a couple of fellow co-workers regarding OUR FREAKIN' JOB. What's the last thing people wanna talk about during break? WORK. What do I talk about? WORK.

I sooooo need to call Z.

Oh but the REAL coups for today is the fact that I learned our Viggo guy is what? GOING TO SEMINARY.


HOLY SHIT. Er, I mean. NOOOOOOOOOOEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSS!!!!! Let's NOT forget the Catholic priest I dated (without knowing he was a priest), and the ill after-effects that whole experience left me with, even when he said he was converting to Episcopaleanism *sic*. Ughh! I can't BELIEVE THAT. So that day that I saw him reading, he was reading the Bible. HE WAS. HE HAD TO BE. Don't get me wrong -- I've read it at LEAST ten times (or more), cover to cover. But he's reading it to BE A SERVANT, OSTRICISIZING HIMSELF FROM WOMEN FOREVER!! NOOOOOOOO!

Man...I don't even know how to pick 'em. It's like Andy Warhol once said: "I don't even know what's GOOD anymore."

Yeah. I don't. Or something.

Madcox feels some bit of satisfaction knowing that I've suffered through 57382572893579 pointless dates in a record time period, and is no longer envious of me.

I've gotta change all THAT.

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Words.

Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks,
The lady of situations.
Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel,
And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card
Which is blank, is something that he carries on his back,
Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find
The Hanged Man. Fear death by water.
I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.
Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone,
Tell her I bring the horoscope myself;

One must be so careful these days.

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