Tomorrow Is Another Day...

Sometimes Being a Snarky Bitch Isn't All It's Cracked Up to Be...

Soooo...  Sometimes it's cool when you find out you have weird real life connections to other bloggers, but sometimes it sucks too.  Basically, I said some things in an earlier post that got back to the person I was writing about and I got confronted last night.  Although I was just making a joke about something that confused me greatly, it certainly came across badly and I'm now having to do some serious damage control with someone who seems to be a pretty great guy.

I've edited or deleted a couple of posts because I don't need more drama to come from what I've written and I'm going to take some time away from the site and try to figure out what it is I'm doing here.  I know that it's not just "for me" or I'd just keep a diary in a notebook at home.  It's been a great writing exercise, but I don't know if I can talk about my life right now without crossing other people's boundaries and having this site bleed over into my personal life.

Please know that this has nothing to do with any of you who have commented here and become my friends--it's nothing you said that pissed me off or turned me off on this.  You've all been nothing but supportive and honest at a time in my life where I needed that the most.  I just need to figure out some things and try to determine if this site is going to continue to affect my life in a more negative or positive way.  In the meantime, thank you for reading, and thank you for all of your friendship, it's meant a lot to me.

Have a happy 4th of July weekend!

It's My Life, It's Now Or Never

Today I sat at work and stared at separation paperwork.  I just stared at it for about ten minutes until I felt the panic starting to suffocate me.  I know logically that I'm young, I can afford to take risks in my life and still recover if things don't go as perfectly as planned.  I know that what I want doesn't lie along the path that I've chosen for myself so far.  I don't want to be a general.  I don't want a job that's not only a career, but a lifestyle.  I want to be able to make choices in life without putting my job ahead of my own desires.  I know that these aren't the things that I want, but still when I think about leaving it all behind I break into cold sweats.

There are so many things I dislike about the military, but there are so many things that I love.  As much as I complain about how hideous my uniform is, I can't help but feel a thrill of pride when I'm out running errands in my BDUs and a stranger walks up to me to shake my hand and thank me for my service.  I love that old men in the produce section will start conversations with me and proudly share their war stories and ask questions about what I do.  I love when a little boy walks by me and looks up at amazement at the living embodiment of his GI Joe figurines.  I love hearing the national anthem and standing at attention, giving a sharp salute, and realizing that this is MY song, this is MY country, and I'm part of a group of people who have dedicated their lives to ensuring that this remains OUR song and OUR country.

I realize that there are things I love, but I think I could happily give all these things up and remember them as fond memories if I could have my freedom back again.  I know that if there is ever a time in my life to take a leap like this and make a complete change in direction, this is the time to do it.  I'm only responsible for me right now--I have no husband, no children, no property--it's just me and the dogs, and they're fairly portable. 

Even so, looking at that paperwork felt very much like standing on the edge of the Empire State building and getting ready to jump--trusting that something will reach out and catch me on the way down.  It's still sitting there, blank and waiting to be filled out with my request to be released from active duty.  But it's funny how as unhappy as I may be here, sometimes it feels safer, which can be confused for better, to live in that unhappiness than leap from the edge of the building and hope that something great happens on the way down.  So, I suppose the choice I have to make now is between the safety of the known, or the possibility of something great waiting out in the unknown.  How can it seem so obvious to me what my choice should be when I see it written down in black and white or when I talk to someone about it, but then be faced with the actual decision and have it suddenly be so hard to walk away?

Oh What A Night!

Right now, I would literally kill someone for some ibuprofen and a Popeye's biscuit.  Kill them dead, I would.  D-E-D, dead.

The night all started when we went out to Cornerstone in what is becoming a weekly Thursday night occurrence.  (That other paragraph was a pretty good hook though, wasn't it!  I'm so obviously an author type person.)  I walked in and found my friends already started and their drinks and was immediately greeted by the bartender who was proferring a complimentary cranberry and vodka--my drink.  Can you see why I luuuuurve this place?  I think the only way it could be more perfect would be if they had a karaoke machine.  And cabana boys in loin cloths with offerings of plump, juicy grapes would be kind of fantastic too.  But the karaoke machine would do for the time being.

Well, as we sat there, grooving to the 80s jams rocking out from the DJ booth, one of the guys leans over and whispers into my ear, "Hey, do you know who that is?"

I look over to the bar and see a petite blonde with massively baggy jeans and a little white tank top talking to the bartender.  I had zero idea--she looked a little like a poor man's Renee Zellweger, but it definitely wasn't her.  Turns out it was Joey Lauren Adams of Big Daddy and Kevin Smith movie fame.  I spent the entire rest of the night trying to decide if it would be totally stalkerish to take a picture or if it was pretty much expected that when you see a famous person you photo stalk them.  I decided against it in the end since there really weren't enough people there to put the blame on someone else if she got all batshit crazy about it.  She did, however, pull my friend up on stage to dance with her and then tried to set him up with her kind of trashy mid-30s friend.  That was pretty funny.  And it's also kind of funny how famous people never really look like themselves.  Which is a silly thing to say, because they ARE themselves, so how can they not look like themselves?  But it was like looking at someone who just looked an awful lot like that girl Layla from Big Daddy.

All in all, it was a good night, and got me out of the house which is always a good thing!  Today is my first full day wearing my brand new fancy schmancy Invisalign braces, and I feel like that scene in My Fair Lady where Henry Higgins keeps putting marbles in Eliza's mouth while she's reciting poetry.  I'm incredibly self conscious about answering the phone, smiling, not smiling, you know, pretty much everything that involves my face/mouth.  But happily the whole process looks like it will only take about 8 months, and I'm fairly certain that I'll get used to the marble mouth pretty soon here.

So, on that note, have a happy weekend, and remember, only you can prevent forest fires.

Update:  I ate a Popeye's biscuit.  It was just as delicious as I hoped.  Also, I'm really, really tired.

Succumbing to Peer Pressure

So, I've seen this 10 Things Meme a bunch of different places now, and every single one of the "10 Things" has given me chills down my spine because so many of them were so familiar to me.  So, enough of you have commented and emailed saying that I should give this thing the old college try, and since I'm always down with free therapy, I figure I'll give it a whirl.

Apparently, the intent of this meme is to write a list of ten things that you would like to say to someone, but you DON'T say who that person is to whom you would say it.  I'm just going to write from the gut here, so I don't really know how hard this will be--I know I tend to keep a lot of things bottled up, but by that same token if I feel strongly about things I'll usually say it.  So!  Here we go then!

1)  I wish you knew how much you were worth and hadn't settled for less.

2)  I love you so much, there's no way that any of your life choices would ever change our friendship in my eyes.

3)  You let your fears dictate your life and obstruct the happiness you should be able to find easily--I know someday you'll regret that.

4)  You don't realize what a strong, amazing person you are, and how you've influenced my life.  I wish I could tell you in a way that would make you believe it.

5)  This is my life and my career.  How dare you so casually cast aside my choices and desires and take away the one thing I want to do.

6)  I still look back and wish that we all could have stayed friends.  I still think about you often and wish that we had met later in life when the high drama of school couldn't make us think we had to choose.

7)  Your lie took away my ability to believe.

8)  I will always be there for you.  Always.

9)  You are beautiful.  You are smart.  You are funny.  You are talented.  Don't be afraid to take risks or you will never find the happiness you desire.

10) I wish I had known you better.  I miss you.

Alack and Alas!!!

First of all, thank you for the comments yesterday on my bizarro blog entry.  I'm glad to have it confirmed that I'm not the only one who feels as though blogs--or ONLINE JOURNALS (since I do so despise the word "blog")--are just a small portion of who we all really are.  I mean, I really did know that already, but it is good to know that you all don't assume that everything I am is spilled forth in this place.  Maybe some day my life will be simple enough that no one else would be hurt by my complete and utter honesty, but I seriously doubt that.  I'm fairly certain that life is always pretty complicated, and there are some things that just shouldn't be shared with the world.

BUT!  We shall move along now, because seriously enough with the black and swirly as AC put it so perfectly!  Or rather, we'll move on from the internal black and swirly to the external, because I just about black swirlied the freaking electronics gods last night.

I had such ambitious plans for my evening--I'd get home, let the dogs out, feed them, box them back up while I went for my first run in AGES, cook a delicious pasta dinner, write some emails that I've been putting off (who me??), and get the ten tons of laundry finished that I have stashed precariously in my closet. 

Yeah, so, I let the dogs outside.  And I fed them.  And that's pretty much where the evening plummeted desperately downhill.

I turned on my computer and was met with the Black Screen of Death--something about a non-system disk error blah blah strike any key to continue.  This didn't scare me too much because it's the same screen that pops up when you forget that you left a floppy disk in the drive, so I just went to eject it and strike any key to continue.  Except.  I don't have a floppy drive.  Fraaaaaaaack.  (That may or may not have been the actual phrase used.)  So, I did what any self sufficient, independent woman of the new millenium would do.

I called my daddy.

Typically daddies can save the day, but sadly, in this case it seems as though my computer has spazzed out to the point of no return and no amount of recovery disk lovin' or bashing on various keys would help.  Grrrrrr.  No matter what I did all that would pop up was the stupid blah blah non-system disk errorcakes.

Given no other option, I called technical support and after a surprisingly short hold time was connected to a woman who spoke exceptionally broken English and we had to resort to literally spelling things out for each other as neither of us could understand the sentences the other was uttering.

"Wait you want me to push the tin can?"

"No no... blah blah words words tin can."

"I'm so sorry... I didn't catch that, I don't... I don't really know what you mean by tin can..."

"No!  F-as in Fox!  One!  Zero!"

"Oh, right, push F10!"

"No no!  No tin can!"

It was a very exhausting conversation during which I could feel my shoulders growing more and more tense just because I hate, oh how I HATE, not being able to understand people with a foreign accent.  It makes me feel so incredibly arrogantly American.  But I definitely understood her when she asked me if I had a small screwdriver.

"We will see if we can remove and reinstall the hard drive!!!"

"Um, is there a... button... somewhere that does that?"

~Long silence~  "Maybe I will just send you a new hard drive."

"Yeah, okay... and what would I do with that?"

~Long silence~ "We will find authorized technician to replace your hard drive."

"That sounds like a really good idea."

So, needless to say, emails were not answered, run was not completed, laundry was not cleaned--but I did cook my delicious pasta dinner somewhere around nine o'clock, so we clearly can see where my priorities lie.  I'm suffering intense withdrawal pains though without access to Gmail or MySpace, so at lunch I'll be taking my little addict self over to the library to use their public computers for a little while.  The hard drive will supposedly arrive either today or tomorrow at which point I'll cart my poor broken computer over to the authorized technician (who I'm still not completely confident about the name of since even after having her spell out the name twice I still ended up with a completely nonsense word) and ask them to please salvage what they can from my old hard drive and make the new one work, please.  Thank you.

And then I shall continue my murderous rampage on my electronics, having already murdered both my cellphone and computer in the past week, by going home and dashing my TiVo repeatedly against the asphalt in the parking lot.  When Good Girls Go Bad, next week on Fox (F as in Frog, O as in Oscar, X as in... what starts with X???).

Can You See Me?

Life has been weird lately.  There have been some things that I haven't been able to write about, things that have made it hard for me to come here and be light and airy, because I'm so wary about Life and where it's taking me.  I've read the past week's worth of entries with a sort of amusement because I can't help but wonder who this girl is that I'm reading about.  It's like when you're walking down the street and you happen to catch a glimpse of yourself in a store window. Just for that split second you see yourself not as YOU see you, but as others do.  You see that the image you have of yourself isn't always what other people actually see. 

I think my blog is like that--I try very hard to put out a fairly honest and realistic characterization of who I am, but then I look at what I've written and I just think, who is this person?  How do people see me when they read through my archives?  How much of myself do I keep hidden and unspoken out of fear of judgement or ridicule?  And how much of myself do I also keep hidden in "real life"? 

It's always been hard for me to let people in--to open up to people.  My sister was always the bright bubbly one with zillions of friends and activities, while I had a small circle of very close friends.  I've always wondered how she does it, how she can trust so many people with pieces of herself.  I think that's why I like the online world, because I can let people see exactly how much of myself as I want to--no more, no less.  And sometimes I'll have a strange brush with "reality" with a fellow blogger and it scares me a little bit.  I think--will they still like me, outside of the realms of a "blog", where I can be a character in my own life?  Where I have to actually be me, without the "Delete Post" button or "Edit" options?

Of course, this also makes me wonder about the other bloggers that I think that I know so well.  I honestly feel as though so many of you are true friends--I wonder about you even when I'm away from my computer.  I think about how you're doing with issues with your children, problems with boyfriends, trips for which you're preparing.  I check your sites daily, if possible, and have made you all a part of my life.  But, are you, like me, hiding huge parts of yourself?  Secrets that you keep for fear of losing control over them?  How much of yourself do you share with the world?  Do you look at your blog sometimes and wonder, who am I really?  And for people that know me in real life--do you feel like you know me better through my site, or do you feel like the Angela that you spend time with and talk to on the phone is a different person from the one you read about here?

There are so many things that I would tell you if I could.  But there are no secrets on the internet, so for now I'll just have to keep seeing myself in that store window, just wondering, do you really see me?

Things That Make Life Worth Living

Getting to know your sister a little better:

At the wedding last weekend, Shani stood poised, bridal bouquet in hand, preparing for the big toss.  All of the single ladies jostled to the dance floor, jockeying for the prime bouquet-catching position.  Brittany and I somehow got shoved toward the front of the pack (can you smell the desperation or something?) along with a precious little girl adorned in a flower sprigged, light green sundress,  her hair in little curls down her back.

My sister glanced to her left, eyebrow arched, hand on hip, looked the little girl up and down once and said smoothly, "What do you think you're doing up here?  You don't have a chance."

And then my sister proceeded to catch the bouquet. 

A Little Change of Pace

Well, in news of the weird and unexplained (ha!), I'm still feeling exceptionally thundercloudish and unthrilled with the male species today, but I've decided that I shall combat that moodiness by forcing myself to talk about the enjoyable things that have been going on in my life lately.  Because believe it or not I really don't walk around all day with a permanent scowl on my face and a woe is me attitude.  In all actuality, I think if you were to hang out with me or talk to me outside of the "blawgy world" you wouldn't even know how downtrodden and depressed I've been lately--unless your name is Colby and you have to listen to my whining and crying every blessed night, in which case thank you, I appreciate the fact that you haven't sent the men in little white coats to get me yet because seriously, I scare MYSELF sometimes.  Yeah, so I pride myself on my "fake it till you make it" or "turn that frown upside down" attempt at living, and typically only become morose and downtrodden once I step through the door of my apartment and no longer have to put on an act for anyone.

I don't feel that proper attention has been paid to the IMMENSE amount of fun that I had when I was home for Shani's Wedding And Related Festivities (as I have taken to calling the weekend).  I had so much fun there that it almost completely took my mind off of all boy drama, and that is a major, MAJOR accomplishment.  I love how spending time with Shani and her sister and my sister we can go months without seeing each other, or even talking very much, and then as soon as we're together again we slip right back into all of our "roles" and have an amazing time.  Starting Wednesday night when I arrived in town it was literally non-stop partying and celebrating through Friday night.  I rolled straight into the aforementioned bachelorette party where we started drinking and didn't quit all weekend--that's how I knew I was home.  There was never a lack of food or alcohol present to get us through the day!  Thursday was spent running errands and then on to the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner that we all mainly napped through with brief interruptions for ingesting chocolate covered strawberries.  Friday morning kicked off with the beautiful bridesmaids' brunch (how do you like that alliteration!) complete with mimosas, stuffed french toast and devilled eggs (which didn't last long) among zillions of others delicious treats.  And of course the beautiful wedding and amazingly fun reception that night, followed by crazy, insane after party, that I honestly remember very little of...

Saturday I spent the day sleepy and grouchy but pulled myself together enough for a night of food and karaoke at the parent's house--my sister and I were pretty much the only people shameless enough to jump up and belt it out in front of everyone, but my mom eventually joined us toward the end, and I've got to say, we would have put the Supremes to shame!  Sunday I dragged myself out of bed later than expected, after an alarm malfunction, and headed over to Lafayette where I met up with some other fantastic friends that I don't get to see nearly enough of all the way up here in the North-country.  We had a fantastic brunch--over mimosas, of course!--and even more fantastic conversation.  I managed to stay awake for the entire drive home and didn't death spiral even once!  That night began the descent into depression, but up until then, life was really, REALLY awesome for about two weeks...

And then of course, Heather B opened my eyes to the Kate Spade sample sale (going on through tomorrow!!) and I managed to pick up a $175 bag for only $79... if that can't make you smile, I don't know what can!!  It's so squeezably, kissably cute... and I don't ever have to wait for it to call!

And in the category of Things To Look Forward To, I have my promotion on Friday, my parents coming up for a visit on the weekend of the Fourth of July, and probably most thrillingly, the visit to NYC in just one month and five days!!  I'm of course ever so excited to be seeing my sister and getting to hang out in The Big Apple (or The Big Tomato), but on top of that I plan on catching up with an old friend that I haven't seen in ages and hopefully meeting up with a "new" friend that I've known forever through this new fangled innernet thing.

So, you see, even though I'm having trouble seeing past all of the crap that's been hitting lately, I do realize that there are good things in my life and I'm making an attempt to make that my focus rather than the negativity that I've been fixating on over the past few months.  The thing is though, I was talking to a friend the other night and I made what I feel like is a pretty good point.  It's really not that I need a man to be happy, because I can see how my life is pretty great without one.  I don't feel like I need a man by my side to be complete, but damned if they don't have a way of making me UNhappy.

I think I'll stick with my Kate's and my Coaches... they've never once made me cry anything but tears of sheer joy and it takes absolutely no brainwaves to understand how they function.  I'd much rather have something cost me money than happiness!!

And My Head Commences Exploding

The internet was down at work all day and I've been suffering from withdrawal because all of the things that wanted to rush out yesterday have finally slowed down enough for me to wrap my mind around it and all I wanted was to write write write.  Instead I was forced to work.  That always stinks.  Anyway, onto the actual meat of the entry.

Growing up in Baton Rouge, I spent my entire childhood through young adult years wanting desperately to get out, move AWAY!  I wasn't ever really sure where away was, but it was always somewhere way better than where I was living.  Where I didn't have curfews and could eat as much chocolate as I wanted and maybe had actual seasons.  This imaginary place sounded fantastic, and I just COULDN'T WAIT to get OUT and be a grown up person.

So, now I'm a grown up person.  And I live in Little Rock.  And it's so not the way I'd imagined it would be.  The thing is, after this last visit home, I realize just how much I miss Baton Rouge.  I guess you just can't live somewhere for 16 years and not form an intense attachment to it.  I miss the familiarity of knowing where all the stores are and where the cheaper gas is.  I miss being able to drive around LSU and see the kids walking to class, going to visit Mike the Tiger in his cage, going to football games and screaming myself hoarse--even if we're losing.  I miss having family and old friends around that know me through and through and I don't have to make an effort to have fun with--I can just "be" with.  And now being back here is that much harder because I know just how much I DON'T want to be here.  Going to work is so much harder because I know I could have a job that I really wanted if I could just be back home.  I can see a light at the end of the tunnel, but it's so hard to see the path that will get me there, right now everything just seems dark and black and the light seems very, very far away.

And then on top of that I keep getting myself involved in these horrible guy situations that just end up crushing me into oblivion.  I try so hard to not get attached because I know how easily I get hurt, but every time I meet a new guy I think, "this one will be different!" and I throw caution to the wind.  And then I end up crying for a week and kicking myself for being so stupid yet again.  Honestly, I can't go into a lot of details about this last guy, but we spent about 4 days total hanging out and, I thought, totally clicking.  He talked a lot about how much he wanted a relationship, we talked about kids and all the places that we'd like to live someday, he helped me with my car, he tried to impress me at restaurants... and still I managed to keep my distance, treat it like a fun "summer romance" because I knew he was leaving soon.  But then the last day that we were together, he dropped the "I'll call you" bomb, and said it oh so sincerely.  In fact, he even said "I'll call you in a few days... unless you don't want to keep in touch with me..." kind of hesitantly like I was going to shoot him down.  And then he said it again... "I'll call you in a few days."  And I really thought he would.  And once again I was wrong.  And once again I've spent the past three days trying to figure out how I could have seen this coming... how I could have let my guard down once again... why I keep trusting people when time and time again they prove to me that they can't be trusted.

A lady at work gave me her son's phone number and said that she'd really like me to call him and meet.  Because "there are so few nice girls out there."  So, I ask you.  If there are so few nice girls out there, and I seem to be one of them, then why oh why is it that none of these guys can see that?  Why am I so easy to let go of?  So now I'm so scared to even contact this guy--not because I think we wouldn't hit it off, but because I'm afraid we would.  I'm afraid of getting attached again.  Getting hurt again.  Letting a person in again.  And then being left alone at the end... wondering.

All I really want is to go home.

I'm Back... And Not Terribly Thrilled About It

Sigh.

Siiiiiiiiigh.

So, I'm back home.

Have you ever had so much to say and it all wants to come out all at once and it all wants to rush out of your mouth but it gets stuck in the doorjamb and you end up stammering unattractively and unintelligently, unable to actually say anything?  That's kind of how I feel right now trying to write this post.  Absolutely so much has happened in the last week that I can't even figure out how to get it all out intelligibly. 

There's been good, there's been bad, there's been drama of the boy variety (because apparently I attract it like Rory Gilmore attracts assholes...) but I'm going to try to just focus on the positive because overall that's how the past week has been.  Extremely, extremely positive.  Even the boy drama was worth it because the good times were really, really good and I wouldn't take them back or do anything differently.  Well, I may have.  I may have just come right out and said how I felt and circumstances be damned, but I didn't so oh well, moving right along to the next one I suppose.

Most thrillingly though, my super close friend/sister is now a married lady gallivanting around Hawaii with her new husband and she looked simply stunning on her big day and threw one HELL of a party.  Y'all, the reception was so much fun, I didn't even eat cake just because I couldn't tear myself away from the dance floor for long enough to sit down and work on the cake!  And I broke a glass and made the lights come up--you KNOW that's a party!

I also had the pleasure of being hit on by an exceptionally aggressive lady at the gay bar we went to for karaoke for the bachelorette party.  It actually was flattering in a really weird way, but my friends were kind enough to save me from her and we spent the night being total karaoke whores and drinking cran and vodkas.  Yum!

I think tomorrow I may be able to speak a little bit more clearly, but I just wanted to remind you all of my existence and I'll be back in full form soon enough.

Oi Vey

Oh my poor aching bones!  I had an amazingly fun weekend, but I guess as a testament to the fact that I am no longer 18, I'm still feeling it today.  This causes great fear and trepidation when I think forward to all of the rock star type partying I'll be taking part in starting the day after tomorrow, but then I push that thought away and instead look forward to the thought of not having to work for FOUR AND A HALF days!  Yay!

Anyhoo.  Friday night I stayed in and curled up with the puppies and I (Heartshaped Symbol Here) Huckabees.  Which I totally didn't get, but hey, whatever--that Jason Schwartzmann is a cutie, so it didn't really matter what they were saying, as long as his big schnozz was on the screen I was happy.  Saturday I was intensely and satisfyingly productive getting in a long run, some errands, and highlights in my hair all before 4:00 in the afternoon!  (For those of you who can get all of this done before 11:00 in the morning, well you suck and I just take pleasure in these small miracles in my life--most of my Saturdays are spent rooted to the couch, so this was quite an accomplishment!)

When I got home from getting my hair did, I got a call from a college friend who's in town for combat control training and we made plans for dinner and a night out so that I could show him and his team all that Little Rock has to offer.  (Which mostly seems to be beer and clubs with disgustingly sticky carpets, but more on that later.)  We went to Outback for dinner, and I started knocking back martinis while I was waiting for the guys to show up--I highly recommend the Lolly Sour Apple Martini.  I also tried a sip of one of the guy's dirty martini, and I was a little non-plussed.  It wasn't horrible, but it was quite obviously just vodka with some olive juice in it.  Why drink something that tastes like cleaning solution when you can drink lovely martinis tasting like apples or cranberries or chocolate with the same effect?  But I suppose it's like I don't really understand people who eat plain vanilla ice cream when there are so many other delicious flavors available for consumption.  BUT I DIGRESS.

After dinner we headed downtown and made our first stop The Flying Saucer that I'd been talking up all night--"They have, like 300 beers!  And live music!  And it's awesome and stuff!"  Which is kind of what I tell everyone about the Saucer.  Until we got there and saw that there were only 175 beers (how did I never see that sign before--and secondly, where on earth did I get 300 from) and the live music was on break, and the guys were more in the mood for booty dancing than sitting around on comfy couches gazing into one anothers' eyes.  (I still contend that 175 is a LOT of beers--I mean, it's not like you're going to drink them ALL in one night anyway--GOD!)  So, after a couple of the guys finished busting up a bachelorette party we walked down the street to On The Rocks, a newish club that I'd never been to before.

Y'all.  When I tell you to picture the cheesiest of cheesy clubs--THIS IS THE PLACE THAT YOU SHOULD PICTURE.  Up in the front we had a charming little Oxygen Bar, seeming a little out of place, but I guess Little Rock is just trying to stay "trendy" and "happening".  There was an emptyish bar which I sidled up to to get my cranberry and vodka, but the guys were being completely ignored up there which I found pretty hilarious.  I offered to let them borrow my boobs for a minute since they might get served a little faster, but they very politely declined.  Probably for the best since I don't have that much to go around.

So then we headed back to the "dance club" and it was all I could do to keep from laughing out loud at the sleazy girls gyrating "seductively" up on the stage with their skimpy, backless tops and side flab oozing out of the sides of their denim mini skirts.  I honestly don't even know why they sell that kind of stuff around here, because people are just going to buy it and wear it when they really shouldn't--and the people who might actually be able to pull it off would never actually buy it.  It's such a catch-22.  But we still managed to have an awesome time and I was pulling out some of my best college moves on the dance floor and even keeping from breaking my ankle when my shoe would become rooted to the revoltingly sticky carpet.  (Side note to On The Rocks management:  Pull up that nasty carpet and put down a proper dance floor--thanks!)

All in all it was a really great night, but when Sunday rolled around it was all I could do to drag myself out of bed around 1:30 and get over to base where I was meeting them for lunch.  I got back home again around 4:00 and did pretty much nothing for the rest of the day--aside from about 14 loads of laundry, but you can do most of that labor from a sitting position, so it was all good.  I still can't walk properly this morning and am a little fearful when I contemplate running later on today, but I shall overcome!  And with any luck we'll just all go out to dinner tonight and I can dull the pain with a lovely strawberry daiquiri.

I Hate This

There's nothing quite like getting a phone call from your father at eight o'clock on a Thursday night informing you that your depression has managed to transcend almost 400 miles of territory and become obvious to pretty much EVERYONE but you and it's time to stop living in a dream world where I think everything is just groovy.  Denial:  It ain't just a river in Egypt.

I decided to stop taking my Happy Drugs/Crazy Pills a few months ago because I felt like I had reached a place where I could handle life on my own, without the interference of an outside substance.  I am strong.  My life is generally good.  I should be happy.  I was also feeling odd flutters in my chest at times and I was discouraged because I couldn't see a big change for the better in my personality.  Although apparently other people did.

But I've managed to lie to myself for all these months that I was doing great.  That I am happy.  That this exhaustion I've been whining about is just because I have a lot going on.  That the constant ache in the back of my throat as I hold back the tears that perpetually threaten to overwhelm me is just a part of my drama queen personality.  That the intense highs I feel when FINALLY for ONCE something good happens, that are then followed by deep, terrifying descents into despair and anger, are normal. 

I'm not happy.  I'm not doing great.  I'm intensely UNhappy.  I don't sleep properly.  I don't function properly when I'm awake.  I snap at people with the tiniest provocation and as much as I've blamed SJB for handling this whole situation horribly (which he did) I know that I have just as much part in the dramatics of the past two months.  I should have been strong enough and stable enough to walk away ages ago, but a pathetic desperation kept me hanging on.  And I hate being pathetic.  And desperate.  It disgusts me in other girls, and now I see it in myself.  I've made some incredibly unwise decisions over the past few weeks, things that I wish to God I could take back.  If I had a better self image, if I could be happy with myself and with life, I think I wouldn't have made those decisions.

I need help, and that's okay to admit, and to really believe.  I've said it before, but I don't think I realized just how much I needed it.  I thought there could be a quick fix, just a temporary pick me up, and I'd be fine.  But the scales have fallen from my eyes and I can see now that I'm far from fine.  So, I've made my appointment and I'm ready to take back control of my life.  I want to go back to a life where the highs may not be so high, but the lows also won't be so low.  I just want to remember what it's like to feel happy without the expectation that soon to follow will be a crash of immense proportions.  I want to be content again.  I remember that there was a time when I was, and I want to find that again.

The Ex Factor

I am sooooooo tired.  I am so tired that there are not enough "o's" in the world to fully convey to you just how very soooooo tired I am.  But it's not tired like, "hm, I need to get more sleep, I think."  It's tired like, my brain is all, "seriously cannot handle this anymore and for God's sake could something good please happen because I am so tired of thinking about things constantly and I am THIS CLOSE to shutting down and hibernating for an as yet undetermined period of time."

My brain.  It sure is a talky one, that brain of mine.

Anyway, things are over with SJB (and you all roll your eyes, snort a little bit and look at me like, yeah, we'll see about that you stupid SUCKER) but really this time I think it's over.  However, this has caused me a great deal of emotional distress--more than I was expecting, actually.  Rebounds: Not for everyone.  I'm losing faith in the belief that I will be force shaped out of the Air Force and am actually considering just applying for a miscellaneous separation and paying back the money I owe.  Yes, I am actually that miserable.  But I can't get up the nerve to call the people I need to call to ask them about this.  A coworker wants to set me up with her son which has my stomach in knots because I can't say no and because I hate meeting new people, but realize that it's a necessary evil and so okay, what harm could one date do?  And then lots of little stupid things that have hunkered down in my mind and will not be budged.  They particularly like to hop around and jitterbug at night when I'm trying to sleep.  Bastards.

But what's the crazy part of all of this?  Who do I talk to about all of this drama?  My sister, yes.  My closest girlfriends, yes.  But also?  My ex. 

Seriously, I think I talk to him more than anyone else in my life, and I feel kind of conflicted about this at times.  I've never been a girl who could be friends with an ex before.  At the end of a relationship I'm very "good riddance to bad rubbish" about it and move on with my life minus the ex.  For some reason, despite the really sweet way I was dumped ("I'm ready to get married and settle down... just not with you" THE NIGHT BEFORE VALENTINE'S DAY!), after a period without any contact with him, I've been able to remain comfortable friends with Colby.  But, you know, what am I going to do--be mad at him for not being in love with me?  That's kind of stupid, and I'd have been madder if he hadn't told me and we ended up married before he got the courage to come out with it.  We've had moments where lines are crossed and I have to retreat into my shell to figure things out, but generally speaking over the past month or so he's gone from The Ex to one of my best friends--which he always was, just now minus the fun parts.

What I worry about is that some day one or the other of us is going to have a relationship again, and it's not the fear of moving on that I'm facing, but I know I personally wouldn't feel terribly comfortable with my new boyfriend talking to his ex-girlfriend for hours every day.  I also don't know if I could rule out the fact that feelings will never develop for him again on my part--or even for me on his, I don't know what goes through his head.  And then we'll only end up hurt and/or angry again.

I suppose I'm just trying to live in the present with this and take it one day at a time--I'll deal with any of those issues if they ever come up, but it is strange to me sometimes to think that the guy that I just spent an hour crying and whining to over SJB is the guy that I was crying and broken hearted over only months ago.  It's so bizarre to think how quickly relationships can change, and if I knew how things would end up for us if I would continue this friendship with him or if it will be just another regret some day.  Kind of like how I regret eating that Krispy Kreme donut(s)... and then the breakfast burrito from Sonic... and then that cupcake... and the other cupcake... and then the piece of chocolate cake.  Yeah.  I definitely regret that now.