Quick blog before bed...

Nothing special happening today.  And I mean that more than I mean a lot of things.  My seasonal Pre-Valentines Day depression arrived all wrapped up in a pretty package of unwarranted tears for absolutely no reason.  I would just be sitting and boom! I have tears rolling down my face.  Let me tell you whoever said that women cry for no reason and are better for it didn't know shit.  Random bouts of tears; I'm upset to say that this happened over five times today, and then in the middle of that crying because I don't know why I'm crying and further crying because now I can't stop crying.

If i were a man, I wouldn't want my soggy, temperamental, obviously crazy ass either!

So I changed my profile picture on Facebook.  I found a lovely little picture of cupid lying face down on the ground with his arrows strewn about him and an arrow stuck in his back a few years ago and I have to say I love it.  It's dark and gruesome but it's exactly what I would want to do if I could.

Valentines is not a good day for me but then freaking Monday through Sunday isn't a good day for me either so what does it matter?  Monday through Sunday I see my friends getting engaged, getting married, going out on dates and generally being happy that someone on this stupid planet wanted to be with them.  On Valentines day double the amount of people who do this on normal basis will be doing it and they will be televising it. Hallmark will make ten thousand movies where someone hates someone then loves them or someone loves someone and looses them then find someone else and loves them.  They will have everything with a pulse fall in love.  Syfy will cover things without a pulse and things not from this planet or solar system. Animal planet will cover the animals.  National Geographic will cover love under the sea, in the air, on the rocks, the history of love and sex, and how other countries handle love.

Thousands of romance novels will be inspired.

I don't want to be inspired to write a romance novel (I already have most of it written) I don't care about love in the sky, or in the dirt, or in Africa.  I don't even care about the history of sex.

No, What I want is someone that can make me feel like I'm not alone in this crowd we call humanity. I'm standing in the middle of half million people wearing some sort of scarlet letter that makes people stay away from me.  I want the same thing that those million people have: Love.

I have stopped hanging out with my friends on a regular basis.  Believe it or not, I used to be a rather sociable person but now, I have stopped hanging out with them and most times would rather sit here in my house making Sims fall in love and screw like rabbits because watching my friends get that special glow or secret smile when it comes to their loved ones is waking up the green eyed dragon.  You don't want to see the dragon.  I don't like the dragon.  She ends some of my best relationships.

I hate being told that he's on his way.  Dammit someone get him a GPS and a fast car.  I've been waiting for mister right since I figured out I was engaged to Mr. Oh hell no so wrong  I'm tired of waiting.  I'm tired of sighing and smiling when my awesome friends tell me to just wait, he's coming.  I want to rage and scream and throw things and it's because of that one sentence and the ones that say the same in slightly different words.

Can we just skip Valentines day?  Skip over to... I don't know... the 4th of July.  Let me be scared to death of fireworks because they sound like gunshots.  I'll take scared to death right now.  Hell I am scared to death.  I'm scared that I was slated for one chance at being with someone and that was my ill-fated marriage to my ex.  My God, what if that was the only chance I will ever get?  What if i die as only his ex wife?

Oh goody the tears have started again.  At least this time there won't be extra tears because I don't know why I'm crying or how to stop.

I need to disappear.  Turn off all communication and just go away.  But I can't do this because my ex would tell the courts that I'm a horrible mother, my mother would have a heart attack at not being able to find me, I'm sure my friends would go on with normal life.  It's not like I'm a constant presence to be missed. (They'll likely notice tat I've gone ghost if I'm gone over a month)

Ugh.  Good God, These tears are going to drive me nuts.  I sound like a head case.  I'm going to bed.

Stay Frosty or thaw out.  Do whatever you want to do.  I'm outtie.

Well... he's back...

I've been sitting here debating whether or not to actually blog about the mystery guy for the main reason that I don't actually know who is reading my blog.  I.E. by some weird twist of fate most foul, the guy that I have had a crush on for the better half of a year might read this and think I'm talking about him.

And it would be awesome if the man that has haunted my dreams for years upon years turned out to actually be him but I'm sure now, that it's not him.

Other dreams slip away as soon as I wake up and other dreams leave in large chunks but Nearly every single dream starring my mystery man has stayed on.

Last night we were at a mall.  I don't know what mall I know that I have been there before in my dreams but I don't think in real life.  The beginning is a little confounded.  My Mom was in a doctors office and my mother in law dropped the kids off to me in the car outside the mall which was also outside of the doctors office and the she said to me that my daughter K hadn't been feeling well.  So Mom gets in the car and I wheel around for a better parking spot at the mall and when she asks why I told her that there was a fast food restaurant selling whole baked chickens 3 for ten bucks.  And I take the kids inside and leave her sitting in the car.  I don't know why I just did.

Somehow we ended up at an Emergency room in the mall that was run by what I want to say were Chinese people but I don't know.  They operated out of one of those doors that half opens and they took Kay in and closed the door.  (I'm scared as hell that something is about to happen to my daughter) but in the dream I go to a hair supply store.  What I was looking for, I have no idea.  I don't know how long I was in there either but I do know a buzzer/beeper like the ones you get at restaurants when you are waiting on your table started lighting up and I went back to the half door where I was given K back.  She is a 13 yr old as tall as me don't ask me how they gave her back through the door, I can't tell you.  Then we went on our quest for the baked chicken and ended up at a McDonalds.

While my kids are harassing the people at the counter, I'm sitting at a table and watching when a man behind me starts to talk to me.  I never turned to see his face but the voice was like an old friend.  It made me feel safe and warm and loved.  Eventually he came to sit in front of me but here's the kicker.  The POV switched from mine to his.  Suddenly I was looking at myself through his eyes and I didn't look fat, or trying too hard to be cute, I looked like what I am: Just a woman.  And even I thought I looked pretty.  I had this glow around me that almost made me sparkle like The Cullens in sunlight.  He sat there and talked to me about my day and then he took my hand and told me "I'll be there soon.  I want you to know that I'm trying to get to you but everytime I think I'm close there's a roadblock in my way."  And I told him that I would be here waiting.  He then told me that I have no idea how much he loves me.  He wished he could show me; he wished he could show me.  And then he did something that I'm not sure he's done ever: we both stood up and he just held me.  Not tight, not in a sexual way, just stood there, and held me. And suddenly I was back in my body and all my feelings of resentment, and strain, and stress were gone.  I felt nothing but happy, safe, and loved for that one moment and then he said he had to go and I watched his back as he walked away.  He's still tall.  But not so much taller than me. He's lost weight since I last saw him because he's thinner from the back. Sandy light brown or dark blonde hair that's cut but not short short and he was wearing jeans and a black t-shirt.

He doesn't have an accent anymore.  I take that to mean that he's from down here as the Southern accent doesn't stand out to me anymore. Once in the past he had a British accent but I had just finished a movie set in England so that might have had something to do with it.  Most other times he's had a twang or a Southern accent.  Last night he was just talking and there was no accent that stood out.

And as I watched him walk away, there was no crying, no longing or holding out my hand to pull him back, because he said he'd be here soon and that's what I clung to.

And then my kids came back from the counter with the manager who looked like Idris Elba and I woke up because my mother in law was calling me.

I am a good girl who believes in God and all that I *supposed* to believe in but I can't understand why it is that I can't find this guy or that he apparently can't find me in any other place than my crazy ass dreams.  Why does He let me develop crushes on men but make it so that they don't want me.  Being alone sucks ass.  I might as well be the freaking Sahara Desert because no one wants to be here.

Maybe his appearing is to shore me up since Valentines days is quickly approaching.  It will be here in exactly one month from today and there is no way in hell that anyone is going to ask me out.  I'm not that lucky.

Where are you mystery guy?  Next time we dream meet can you tell me what roadblocks are in your way?  Maybe I can help you get through them.  It's more than I want you.  I need you.  I think you are the safety line that keeps me from spinning off into full blown crazy but the rope is starting to fray.

Ugh, blogging didn't help and I still never got my baked chicken!

Stay Frosty Bloggers.  Or stay frosty out there because I'm about to turn up the heat here. Ciao!

Damn you Nicholas Sparks...

Damn you to hell and back and then damn you to make the trip again and again.

I just watched Safe Harbor and at the current I am bawling like an effing baby because... well shit. I can't give the plot away to anyone that might read thi that hasn't seen the movie but damn you Nicholas Sparks!!

You did this to me in The Notebook. Why did I think my emotions were going to fare any better at the end of this movie?  Silly stupid me!

How does a man write a story like that?  I need him to help me with my current story.  I need him to write the part of the man because honestly, I'm afraid that the man in my story is coming off as girly although I have already described him as looking like Eric Bana.

Damn you Nicholas Spark, I need you.  When you finish with the trips to hell and back that I've condemned you to, I need your help to make the man in my story the kind of man that's going to make women everywhere fall in love with.  Hell I need you to wave your magic pen and make him real.

I'm so tired of being alone.  I'm going to admit it.  The great big truth behind me leaving Facebook.  It had very little to do with my days getting more productive.  You wanna know the real reason I left?  Because every single day, every hour, every five minutes, I'm there to check to see if he has posted something new. To see if he is online right now.  To see what he is posting anywhere.  Hoping he will message me or comment on one of my asinine statuses.

And the simple solution would be to delete him from my friends list but to tell you the gut wrenching truth, the easier option was to take myself away from Facebook.  I could no more delete him from my Facebook than I could hack off my arm with a butter knife.

I'm not a religious person but for the last month of Sundays I have asked God each and every night why I feel the way I do about him.  He doesn't want me.  He doesn't like me.  So why do I feel like he is my destiny and that if I just wait patiently the same lightning bolt that apparently knocked me on my ass months ago hits him.

This shit hurts.  I have basically turned my back on a whole bunch of friends because I'm trying to stop myself from stalking someone.  What the hell kind of shit is that?

And if I log on and reactivate that stupid page, the very first thing I'm going to do is go to his page.  I can swear up and down an electric mile on a stack of bibles that I won't do it, but within ten minutes I will have done it.  And sat here and cried.  That's just how pathetic I am.

Damn you Nicholas Sparks.  Damn you to hell and back over and over and over again.  You did this!  You caused the band-aid over that part of my heart to rip itself off.  It was healing quite nicely.  It only needed a few more weeks and I wouldn't need the damn band-aid.  But I had to go and watch one of your movies and feel all romantic and shit.

Damn you.  Damn you.

Damn me.

So there may or may not be any posts for the next couple of days.  I may blog via my phone but I seriously doubt it as I hate typing on my phone.  I'll have my tablet but IDK how much I'll type.  We'll see.

Oh fuck it, I'm going to watch another movie...

Night...

So tired

I am so tired of trying to convince guys that I am worth a chance... So tired of trying to entertain people when I just want to curl up in a corner and cry...

They say that the ones that offer the first and most convincing smile are hiding the most.

I'm not smart.  I'm not funny. I'm not as pretty as the Victoria Secret's model wannabe's walking around today.  When it comes to members of the opposite sex, I get tongue tied and say everything wrong or I let my body overwhelm my thoughts and I flirt like a wanton hussy.

I never learned how to be subtle.  It was never anything I needed to know because I was the fat black band geek in a white Jewish school that nobody ever looked twice at.  In college I was the whiter than Wonder bread black girl that was once again a band geek and only one person looked at me in an attempt to save me from a fate worse than death for a college girl.

The guys in Johnson C Smith Marching band's drum line were planning to run a train on me.  For those that don't know, when a few guys plan to run a train on a girl that seduce her one by one until she sleeps with every one of them.  It can be anywhere from three to however many guys.  In my case it became a Kappa Kappa Psi initiation so it was about ten guys.  My now ex husband got wind of it and put a stop to it by claiming me as his own.  For that I will probably always be thankful because at 18, I was so horny that I probably would have fallen for it and not realized what was going on until it was too late.

It wasn't really enough to completely save me from some ruin.  One night before I was officially with my ex, I was invited to go on a walk with one of the saxophone players.  In my mind he was courting me.  Old fashioned courting me.  I was wrong.  So wrong.  After the rape, I tried to report it but his Line brothers (He was trying to go for KKP) told campus police that it was a train, I was fully aware of it, and that it couldn't have been rape because they all saw me flirting with the guy.  Campus police then turned around and told me just because it wasn't the way I wanted it to happen, I couldn't cry rape.

I have never had any confidence when it comes to guys.  I'm just not the one that guys like.  I'm the friend.  The one that has to keep her feelings to herself while they go on and date the skinny pretty model type girls.  The one that gets to go sit at their weddings.  The one that gets to stalk their Facebook walls.

I don't think I can do it anymore.  I don't think I can be the person with the ready smile.  The person that looks like their world is all sunshine and giggles when I'm wading through shit in the fog.  I can't be the person with the funny joke on demand when all I can think about is what highway I can walk out on and when.

That's morbid, I know.  Perhaps a little too morbid but it's kinda how I feel.  Part of me wonders if God has a plan for me that involves me being happy or is the plan for me to just hang around being miserable until I finally give up and let go.

My birthday is in three weeks.  You know what I want?  I want a date.  A real date.  Movies, Dinner, talking... I want a guy to take that chance.  To give me a shot.  I don't care if he's a knight in shining armor or a dofus in tin foil.  I don't care if he's riding a noble steed or a Harley or even a moped.  I just want someone to take a chance.

Every New Years I make the same wish... please God, don't let the coming year be another year I end alone.  Please let me have someone to kiss at midnight.  Please let me have someone who makes me happy and allows me to make him happy.  Every new years I watch everyone else kiss their beloveds and every year I have to fight the tears until I'm alone and can let them fall in the torrential streams they flow in.

I can't do it anymore.  I can't hope.  I can't pray.  I can't wish.  I think this birthday and this New Years I'll stay home where I can cry if I want to.  Where I don't have to be the brave soldier who always smiles.  I won't do it anymore.  It's over.  I'm done.  IF my lot in life is to be the one that is always the friend and is only loved as such, then so be it.  I will take that and do my best to excel at it.

Because I'm so tired...

So tired...

Love

Whoa!!  Two blog posts from me in one day?  Wow...

Crap, I totally forgot what I was going to say.  NOt what I was going to write about but what I was going to say.  I really hate blonde moments.  And yes I call them blonde moments.  I have plenty of Blonde friends who have proven the joke to be pointless a thousand times over but if the alternative is admitting to my age and calling them Senior moments then I'll keep calling them blonde moments.  Come up with a better name that doesn't imply age and I'll use that.

I still didn't remember what I was going to say...

So let's let's just bounce ideas out of my brain until I find one...

When I think of love, I think of sex.  Most specifically the fact that I don't even remember what it feels like much less the mechanics.  I've heard it's like riding a bicycle.  That you never forget how.  Anyone have a bicycle??  I'm pretty sure I can fall off and prove everyone wrong...

So something I was thinking about yesterday while watching the Love love sappy freaking love marathon on television that I couldn't outrun if I had a racecar was there is a whole lot of fooling around going on before they actually get to that bow chicka wow wow moment.  A LOT.

Wanna know something sad?  I actually had to google the definition of fooling around.  No shit I really did.  But this really isn't news coming from the gir who admittedly doesn't even know how to kiss. (Ooohhh.  If you're a first time reader which let's face it, you aren't because no one reads my blogs, I guess I should have said spoiler alert... my bad.)

SPOILER ALERT

I don't know how to kiss.  And judging by the definition I found online I don't know how to fool around.  From what I can tell.  It's all the stuff that comes before sex done mostly with clothes on and doesn't actually lead up to sex.

I'm sorry... that's fun... how??

All I see is disappointment.  Go through all the kissing and the petting and whatever else and then stop?!?  Oh hell no!  Yeah no. Hashtag, I'm just sayin....

And sexting??  Give me a break!  Getting all hot and bothered and then boom your phone dies.  Not that I've ever sexted.  God that kinda sounds dirty.  The stream of thought that emanated from that one sentence requires a twenty minute shower.

Not that Sex is much fun either but I've been told that in the grand scheme of things, I don't do that well either.  Seriously you're probably laughing but I have actually been told that I suck at sex.

So you can see why I have such a downer attitude on the whole thing.  Well maybe you can't, but I think that's denial on your part.  Or maybe that you are laughing so hard it's too funny to be clear.

I don't associate sex with love.  It's an act.  A physical act that leaves one sweaty and more often than not in serious enough pain to consider going to a gym so the next time you'll at least be limber.

No.  Love to me is someone caring for me.  Not Caring as in buying me stuff and taking care of me, but caring as in he wants me.  He wants to be with me.  He cares about my well being. He's interested in me.  The same as I would for him.

Love is having someone to call/text when you have news good or bad to share.  Having a good day?  Text/call that special person.  Having a bad day and need a smile? Text/call that person.

Love doesn't mean you have to be there 24/7 either.  People have to work, people have to be away.  No one needs to be by each other's side all the time.  I don't have an opinion on the people that feel that if you love someone you will be joined at the hip to them.  Dude, go play poker.  Go out to the club with your boys.  Don't suffocate you to be with me.  You can bet your sweet ass I'm not going to suffocate me to be with you.

Okay that last part didn't sound nice.  It sounded even harsh to myself but then if you understand what I'm saying, they you get it and it doesn't sound harsh.  Don't change who you are to be with me because I will not change who I am to be with you.  You liked me for me so who will you like if I change?

Long conversations where you don't do anything but listen to each other breathe on the phone.  That's cool.  Stalkerish, but cool.  Way stalkerish but still way cool.  That you don't need to say anything but you are probably having the best conversation ever.

Love is so many things that I haven't even touched the top of the list.

Can there be sex without love?  Uhm yeah. Yeah... Yep.   Mmm hmmm.

Can there be love without sex?  Probably.

Which would you prefer?  Sex without love, or love without sex?