Okay, so I became a Blog Mommy for the FIFTH time tonight! All bouncing baby boys, all of whom love bouncing boys themselves. Damn. But really, I wouldn’t have it any other way. 🙂
Check out Bryan!!!
Oh, and BTW, the Steelers won! Yay Pittsburgh!!! 🙂
1. The Steelers are getting their asses kicked by Cleveland (gaaaaah);
2. Vibrating underwear is the best fucking invention in the world;
3. Snow finally seems to have stopped — 1 to 2 inches are on the ground;
4. I’m still in my jammies and have been since noon yesterday (after a luxurious candle-lit bath with almond-scented bubbles. Mmmm.)
5. I am lonely.
Usually, I get up on Sundays and just drive aimlessly. Shitty driving skills and maniacal Virginia drivers aside, I love to go grab some coffee at Starbucks, a sandwich from Mickey D’s, and a pack of cigarettes from the INS (insert Wal-Mart or CVS here). Today I made my own coffee, made garlic bread and wedding soup, and am suffering withdrawal symptoms from having no nicotine in four days. Argh.
Steelers: 28, Cleveland: 33. For the love of god, of all people to beat us, not Cleveland!!! C’mon boys, pull a fourth-quarter miracle out of your tight little black-and-gold clad asses, will ya?!?!
Flashback
Came across a very old journal entry today, not even written in a journal. I wrote it in a small notebook that I used to keep in my purse, about CR:
“26 May 01”
Can’t believe, after all this time (close to a year! Or more — oh god!), I finally held him in my arms again.
From the hug he gave me immediately upon his arrival, I was in love all over again.
CR is still as gorgeous as ever, but he looked so different. So sad, perhaps. Distant. Dejected. Worn out. I would find out later, after everyone had left my party, that he’s not happy about the new baby. He said he told her, many times, that he wants to wait another year. Just one more year to prepare. I don’t think that was such an unreasonable request.
It seems that when he tells people about the new baby, it’s not that he’s bragging. Rather, it’s like he’s saying it until he actually believes it.
When he emailed me on 17 March 01 about the pregnancy, Kristin said it sounded like somebody was trying to save their marriage. Now, I do understand from him that his wife is frustrated with him.
I didn’t say a word. What could I say? I can’t wish them well, and I can’t tell him to leave her and to stay with me.
The sexual tension between us is still as tangible as ever. And when we kissed — wow! It was like Zambelli fireworks were exploding in my living room.
‘Watching stars without you
My soul cries.
And I’m kissing you
I’m kissing you hard.’
— Des’ree, ‘Kissing You’ —
I know he feels it too. I just know it. But he has to make the next move. I just need to let him know that I can offer him a safe place to land, if he’d ever let himself fall for me. …”
Back to the Future
No, I wasn’t a little slut and fucking a married man. We were just such good friends that an intense emotional affair developed. And even today, although the miles and our lifestyles separate us, I know that if I ever need anything in this world, he’d be there for me. We still send the occasional card or e-mail, and while it’s not the same, it’s as much as can be done at this time. But I loved him. Oh, how I loved him. And the kiss was friendly, sudden, ephemeral. I can only imagine what a partnership between us could possibly have produced. But we’ll meet again, in another season, in another life.
This entry, found in an old purse that I unearthed yesterday, reminded me of how far I have really come in this world. The irony was that well, his wife wasn’t the only one with child — I, on the other hand, would later learn that I happened to be knocked up by someone who also shared the first name of the man I really loved at the time. And while mine was brief and now gone, CR did welcome a son into the world last year at this time. What became my freedom is what became the tie that binds him forever to his wife. And she’s really a wonderful person — I had to comfort myself repeatedly that, if I couldn’t be the one to love him, at least he found someone who could come close to loving him the way I knew I could.
Honestly, I’d forgotten about him — well, not him exactly, but that birthday party that I’d thrown for myself, the way he pulled me into his arms when he saw me, the way we kissed when we were alone, the way we sat on my porch for hours, looking at the night sky and holding each other. There was never a doubt in my mind that he loved me back, with all the heart and soul that he could possibly afford. And, I’ll never forget my friends Kristin and Steve, hiding in the bushes across the street, waiting for him to leave (they SAID they were leaving but really hid outside, waiting to see some action inside. LOL).
He will never know how happy I was to have him in my life. He will never know how much I yearned for him, like a schoolgirl in pigtails, writing in her diary every night. And now that I’m a lot older (we met on my 24th birthday — four and a half years ago), I see that he was my first real “love,” if you can consider an emotional affair with a married man “love.” But he was a soulmate for me, and I learned to believe in soulmates and in passion and in the dizzy rush of blood to the head when you see or touch that special person.
And he could very well be the reason why I learned to believe in love. I don’t think I can firmly say that love conquers all, because obviously, we’re not together. But learning to love in such a way is a skill I hadn’t yet acquired by that age. It’s ironic that we met on my 24th birthday and last touched on my 27th birthday. How very odd. At any rate, I still see photos of him or read journal entries about conversations we’d had, and I still smile. He’s a wonderful person, and I hope that wife of us knows how beautiful his heart really is, and always was.
I can’t wait to feel about someone again the way I felt about him. And although I felt it again one more time, with Brat, and that also went nowhere for other reasons, well, I look forward to the time when I feel that way about someone again. We worry so much about how others view us, feel about us, think about us, talk about us, etc. We hate to admit that we wonder what so-and-so is doing right at this very minute, why they’re not calling, who else they’re with. But what really matters is, well, do we really even WANT them to call, to think about us, to be with us? Are we being competitive with other women who may or may not even exist in their lives, or do we really want to give our hearts to these guys?
I responded to one of Bryan’s e-mails today, about love and relationships, and I’d joked with him that I’d said something blogworthy. This is kind of an addendum to yesterday’s entry “Aimed at No One” and is a good way to conclude this entry. ..
“I totally agree with you that it’s best to be alone, to not have sex [with a potential partner] right away, to discover yourself as a person before blending yourself into someone else’s life. Because they owe you that same courtesy, right? I was just ranting on my blog about how in relationships and friendships, everbody needs to bring 100 percent effort and 100 percent of themselves to the table. No 50/50 — that’s a load of crap. The strongest teams have two people giving 100 percent, and the weakest have a total of 100 percent, and you can bank on the fact that one person is giving more than the other, in an immature relationship, at any given time.
And my own goal in 2003 is to make myself into the individual I always wanted to be. I mean, I’m fine with myself now, but there are a lot of adjectives I would like to call myself, and I don’t feel worthy of those yet. But I will. And I hope to meet someone equally strong and dynamic, because I’ve met enough wishy-washy assholes to last me a lifetime. I need someone who will complement my strength, not drain it.
I think CR, in another time and place, could have complemented me. Brat wasn’t ready to, not yet anyway, but he had potential. I know for a fact that RK wasn’t ready. And well, maybe I wasn’t ready either, and I still might not be. But this year, I think I might be at that 100 percent, and if there are any takers out there who are ready, well, my e-mail addy is below. 🙂 And I could go on forever, but well, my vibrating underwear need to be washed, so I’m signing off!!!
So I’m awake and having a nic fit. Before I run, not walk, to the 7-11 that’s shining its light into my lava-lamp-and-candle-infested bedroom — like the Carpathia to a Titanic survivor — for a pack of Marlboro Ultra Lights, I’m attempting to amuse myself with the Internet. It’s not working. I am going to have plans next Saturday night if it KILLS me!!! So, who wants to take me out? lol. Reserve me before Tuesday!!!
At any rate, temporary amusement provided by this Dysfunctional Care Bears quiz was provided via Jimmy. OK, is anyone surprised by the results?!?!
Which Dysfunctional Care Bear Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla
Oh, and while we’re on the subject, since nobody’s donating to my PayPal or Amazon Honor System tin cups on the right of the page, I will be adding a new button that will be more valuable to ALL donors. Thanks to Ren for the idea!
CLICK AND LICK, MY FRIENDS! CLICK AND LICK!!! PLEEEEAAAASSEEE?!?!?!