Majestic

Jonathan Rhys Meyers is playing Henry VIII in The Tudors on Showtime. The commercial is so replete with smoldering stares and writhing bodies, you can literally see the camera lens steam up.

Are you serious? Henry VIII. The same guy who inspired Protestant Christianity and decades of bloodshed because he wanted to get the Church to sanction his divorce just so he could legally fuck someone else? Made out to be one romantic epic of tormented lovers?! Really?

Have you seen portraits of Henry VIII? He was one fat ass. Above the neck wasn't much to look at, either. Check out Rhys Meyers! Come on, people, cease being preposterous!

Now, all this said, i wish i had Showtime.

Quote 23

[My daughter] thinks love leads people to do stupid things. She doesn't get it. How can anything great happen if you're not prepared to look stupid?

- "Sex Kills", House

Phantoms

Sometimes, when i'm scrubbing away at the kitchen sink, say, a saucer, because a cup has sat on it, i can still hear JD:

"Honey? What are you still cleaning?"

No Plain Jane

In a recent interview with Marianne Schnall, the founder of feminist.com, Jane Fonda admits that her identity depended on men for years: "[As if] if you're not with a man you don't exist."

I've had this discussion with Denisse like five times in the past three months. Why do we feel like such losers for being unattached? I often have to mindfully relive the misery of being trapped in marriage and cringe before i can again state and mean it: It is worse - far worse - to be stuck with the wrong person than to be single.

My therapist once said, "Who's to say being married, with children, is the norm?"

Let's say society decides that is the norm. And it doesn't apply to me. Does that make me a less valuable person?

It took Jane Fonda 62 years to get in touch with her true self. Turning 70 next year, she tells Schnall, "Now I feel like I have epiphanies every other day."

I don't feel so bad about feeling unanchored at age 36 any more.

Quote 22

... Good enough is good enough. We're not supposed to be perfect. We're supposed to be complete.

- Jane Fonda

Revelation 21

My sailor ships out tomorrow. And no word.

To Mexico. "Where the women are cheap and the beer is cold," he wrote earlier this week.

I wrote back, "May you score una mexicana o dos entonces."

Some nights you think, This is one of those nights when you're never gonna get drunk. And then, Wham! You think, Shit, i'm drunk.

OK, that didn't come out very intelligent. But you catch my drift.

I've laid off alcohol and medication since Monday night. I didn't like the way i'd been feeling. It was like the two fed each other; I'm not sure. A couple of days later, i understand why JD doesn't blog. You feel many things all at once, yet you feel nothing. It's very zen. In essence, you become the queen of paradoxes. No offense to JD.

My sailor either has a vulnerable side that is buried deep down, or he plainly is JUST AN ASS. Either way, i can't afford to explore.

Off the meds, i'm afraid. To do anything. To even make a drink. But i do anyway, to quelch the stupid churning in my stomach. Withdrawal symptoms, i see.

Earlier today, Denisse celebrated the end of the work day by texting, "Freedom! Woo hoo!"

In response, i punched:

i think freedom is the key ingredient in weekend happiness. No wonder i'm miserable M-F. LOL

A Shout-Out. Almost.

I thought i was gonna be too depressed to blog today. Depressed on a Tuesday? What a shocker.

Post-shower, i started singing My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean out of the blue, and got all choked up. Yes, there's a childhood memory in there which i'm not gonna elaborate.

5:22 p.m. I sat on the couch and stared out at the bright, cloudless sky. It's fucking glorious. And i feel all gloomy inside. Just like your run-of-the-mill antidepressant commercial.

Now two friends my age are getting married. Not one, but TWO. All of suddenly being the only spinster who dies alone becomes very real.

Even Denisse stops texting me. I feel utterly undisturbed. Kinda like turd off the side of the road everybody is trying to avoid.

I read Ms. Milwaukee's blog this evening which i meant to do yesterday. I feel strangely like a stalker. She hasn't posted a lot lately. Must be the job. (Ha, ha.) I mean, everybody can't be prolific like i. (Translation: no life. LOL.)

So, in a nutshell, she's a fellow hypomanic recluse on medication to ward off depression. I know she has said before she relates to some of the stuff i say, but i had no idea.

Misery loves company. Thank you for not getting married this year, Ms. Milwaukee.

Kindred Spirit, Where Forth Art Thou?

I've been "talking" to a couple of old friends. Old as in since prepubescence. Oh Christ. Needless to say, even though i do feel a tinge of undying love for the girl in them i used to know, we don't have all that much in common any more.

Lately, all they can mutter is, "I can't wait till you come and visit so you can meet [insert name of child here]."

I feel mean-spirited for saying this, but it's true that, once a mother, that's all a woman is for years to come. Everything and every neuron of her being revolves around the child.

Now that's undying love.

I have to say i gotta give them credit for even continuing to communicate. Motherhood must be pure madness.

My friend TW who turned me on to sangria recently got engaged and moved to San Diego. She's been trying to contact me since the announcement and my emailed congrats. I haven't felt very motivated to call her back. I feel bad. I do. I don't know, maybe i am bitter about the gap between me and everybody else widening with each day that goes by. They hadn't set a date and they were already trying to conceive. Oh my Lord. In fact when she left me a voicemail last Friday, i thought for sure she was gonna inform me of her pregnancy. I was literally too petrified to listen to the message until today.

Turned out she just wanted to let me know they're getting hitched come Thursday. Perhaps i can fit it in my schedule to email another "congrats" before the big day.

Another deterrent of a quick response for me is that she never listens. She'll ask, "So what's new with you?" Then just as you're about to share, she goes on to talk about herself. If you want to shamelessly yap about yourself, BLOG! (LOL.)

I did catch myself humming "Here Comes the Bride" this afternoon though.

Indeed there are not many in this world you can have a heart-to-heart with. Without being judged. Or rushed. Or slighted.

Ms. Milwaukee's latest comment on a recent post struck a chord. Isn't it true it's harder to make friends as we age? [Although i must respectfully disagree that gender is an issue.] Plus, in the world today, isolation is the name of the game. What with our cubicles and cyberspace and impersonal telecommunication and all. Not like simpler times (don't you just love that term?) when you wouldn't be deemed crazy for striking up a conversation with a perfect stranger on the way to the town cobbler.

I've gone the route of joining special interest groups online in hopes of finding people i can hang out with, maybe even *gasp* make a friend or two. Sure, having common interests (namely, happy hour, in this case,) may be a start, but at the end of the day there are walls that just would not come down. People are so guarded nowadays, with so many preconceptions. Even i find myself gauging if i'm being over-friendly or over-cautious. It's exhausting, i tell ya.

Last night York II expected me to IM, but i'd rather watch CSI. And honestly, what would we have to talk about? Disappointed, he turned abrasive on me. I'd never seen that side of him. He's not this enlightened, balanced soul i envisioned him to be. He's lonely, just like so many of us.

All this said, with any luck, i'll be checking out a goth club this Friday. As far as making friends, i'm not holding my breath.

All Is Fair In the Pursuit Of Happiness

This was an interesting weekend.

On Saturday Denisse and i went down to Santa Cruz. It felt like a little day trip, "just the girls". Denisse is one of the few people i can shop with without anxiety. If you only knew how deep my neurosis runs, you'd know this is a great compliment. Our excursion also served as vindication over guys, once again. And, strolling down Pacific, 1 in 5 passers-by looked stoned to me. Doesn't get cooler than that!

York II emailed me this week. First that gesture restored my faith in the sheer kindness of humankind. For, like, an hour. To think that someone reaches out just to say, "Hey...", without expecting anything in return. Then i picked up on the flirtatious vibe. He probably just wants sex.

Damned cynicism. Who am i to judge, when i'm pathologically flirtatious myself? I can't even connect to someone who doesn't flirt back.

Saturday night Denisse and i went clubbing in beautiful downtown San Jose. You have to hand it to the city of San Jose. The couple of joints Denisse and i have graced beat all those we've been to in the city, hands down. So much hipper, and the music actually moves you to the point of Happy Feet. And there are places to sit! OMG, what a concept!

Last night was definitely my happiest clubbing experience to date. So many attractive girls, scantily clad. And good dancers too, both guys and gals. That's always fun to watch. I walked around like a kid in a candy store. Had a smile on my face you couldn't wipe off. I told Denisse i find myself checking out girls way more than guys.

"Is that weird you think?" I asked Denisse.

"Depends..." Replied a hesitant Denisse.

I got what she meant and laughed. "I'll ask my therapist," i said.

Then we updated each other on our recent love life (or an absence thereof - on my part anyway).

Incidentally, Matt had just emailed me earlier that day to promise bringing by my earrings on Monday. How about checking with me first to see if it's a good time for me? He's unbelievable.

I wrote back, "Don't worry about the earrings." What i really wanted to say was, "Keep them. If you can't find a place, i'll tell you where you can put them."

On most nights out i get tired within an hour, but on this night i just wanted to keep groovin'. If ever there was a time i had lost myself on the dance floor, this was it. Denisse and i danced with a bunch of strangers of both genders, rainbow-roll hip grinding and all that jazz. A girl's long hair swang, brushing across my cheek. Everybody was fragrant in body heat. Denisse got really hammered and kept going, "Woo!" We laughed so hard.

But on the way home Denisse did need me to pull over. She hurled right in front of the HP Pavilion. I told her that was quite a statement.

"I'm never drinking again," Denisse said this morning. "I had a piece of your bread earlier to sooth my stomach..."

"Oh my God do you know how old that bread is?" I exclaimed.

"It seemed fine," Denisse said. "I looked at it."

Oh, good, she checked for mold.

This evening she informs me by text that she is sick again.

Um, perhaps it's the 5-week old bread? Just pure conjecture.

I do hope she gets well soon. She's not a lot of fun to talk to when she's sick. (OK, i'm a horrible person.)

And i wonder why JD hasn't called. Must be grappling with depression. (JD would LOL.)

This evening I read a mind-and-eye-opening article on bisexuality by Jennifer Baumgardner, adapted from her new book Look Both Ways. Approximately 60% of bisexuals ages 18-44 are female. Baumgardner's view on having no gender preference is how i've always felt about love in general. You need attraction, you need affection, you need a deep connection. It's rare to find all three in a person. And that's just it. You're looking for a person.

It's really amazing how literary works transform a moment, and a mindset thereafter. Upon reading the article i felt strangely in harmony with the universe. Not like an oddball salmon struggling with all its might to swim upstream. Eh, let's face it. If i were a salmon i probably wouldn't have the will to swim upstream. I'd probably just let the currents sweep me away, and embrace my destiny of becoming sashimi, sitting neatly beside pickled ginger and a glob of wasabi.

All Dressed Up & Nowhere 2 Go

There's something a little sad about blogging on a Friday night.

This wasn't a happy week. Even the prospective weekend did not cheer me up.

And then came 3 p.m., and it was bright and gorgeous out, and i thought, i ain't going home!

But i didn't know what to do. I just wanted to drive somewhere. Somewhere out-of-town-ish, but not too far.

I thought i'd go down to Santa Cruz to explore the downtown area like i'd wanted to for some time now.

I went too far and wound up in Capitola. Where are the damned signs when you need them?

But i did enjoy the ride. So much sun, so much green. I didn't even need to exceed the speed limit. (Believe me. That's rare for me.)

Finally, i arrived in downtown Santa Cruz. Just the way i remembered it from the first time i stumbled across it after getting lost. Good times.

Parking was near impossible. My enthusiasm waned quickly. I left.

Yes, crazy, i know. Shouldn't surprise anybody by now.

On the way back i was craving both cajun salmon and one of them stout concoctions at BJ's. I considered who i could call to say, Hey, wanna have dinner with me? Or, Hey, wanna come out and have a drink?

And there was NO ONE i could do that with. NO ONE.

I got mad. I thought i should just go myself.

I got as far as the parking lot. I couldn't do it.

Even after a long day, after having endured my boss' visit, no less, i was looking pretty hot. And ready to party. And there's no one, absolutely no one, to party with.

Pissed and dismayed, i refused to give up. I called Matt. He might be desperate too, you know.

His OGM said he'd be getting a new phone any day now. Did he go and change phones on me without a warning?

By golly this guy is really something else. And i can't call his home cos he never wanted to include me in that circle, did he, or he would've given me that number months ago. I mean, how jaded is he to be so guarded? Given, i have that number. But i can't dial it, or i'll come off as a total psycho. Which i am, but he doesn't need to know that.

Earlier this week, when i had to call him for work, he was all giddy when he picked up, "What's up?" So, i mean, he's not totally disgusted by me. What gives? LOL.

Perhaps it's a good thing. I had lost my head there for a minute. Let's hang on by a thread of self-respect while we can, shall we?

The Dear JM Letter That Wasn't

I miss having a good girlfriend. Don't get me wrong, Denisse is great, and i'm really grateful we get along so well. But she's not exactly affectionate.

I had a gang in L.A. JM was the bestest. We were so alike temperamentally. We were both sweet and eager to please. We were both drawn to men who are aloof and hard to read.

(BTW, have you noticed there's "mental" in "temperamental"?)

JM was unhappy with her marriage. For a few years, she was tangled up in a tormenting affair, unable to break free.

We shared so much heartache. To this day, when i pass by the Applebee's off Saratoga on 280, "our" joint, i still think about her and smile inside.

She's a friend of a lifetime - one of those rare few you're really glad to have met. Even though she moved to MN last year, i didn't think the distance would change anything. We'd still be us.

These days, even though there are things i'm dying to share, i don't contact her much. Having started on a nursing program while working full-time, she's unlikely to have time to herself. Why should i bother her?

"I don't want you to think i don't have time for you any more," JM recently wrote.

Then she goes on to recommend listening to Christian music. It's helped her cope with everything. Improved her relationship with the husband, even.

It all started when i made her the mix CD, she says.

Sure, i put a bunch of sappy, positive, "spiritual" tunes on there, but who knew it'd turn her Christian on me??!

I was so overwhelmed with an array of emotions, i couldn't reply. Still haven't.

I feel like i've lost her forever. It won't be the same telling her my sinful ways any more.

People change. They get married. Have kids. They move away. They turn religious. No matter. I'm always the one who's left behind.

No Princess

The earrings i left at Matt's are princess cuts.

I'd had round brilliant for the longest time. That was me, wanting to be versatile, not willing to make waves.

After having been through an ordeal with JD that became a journey of self-discovery, i graduated to princess cut. I figured the definite corners would give me the strength i'd been lacking. They gave me presence.

Two years have come and gone. Even after JD and i were no longer an item, it was the only pair i'd wear to work. It was dainty, simple, but, to me, spoke volumes. No frills, no if's or but's. It said, "Don't mess with me. Don't get too close."

On Tuesday, Matt apologized for not having returned my call on a work matter. In stark contrast, pulling a no-show on a personal matter was not worth an honorary mention.

It's not even about the earrings. It's about principal. About respect. Or lack thereof.

For weeks i wondered where i stood with Matt. And herein i hear the message loud and clear.

Today i went shopping for a replacement for my princess cuts. But discovered marquise instead.

They were different. They were defiant. They were what i needed to break out of my mold so i could breathe. After two years of trying to define myself.

If Matt called to ask to return my earrings, i'd say:

Keep them. Make a shrine. I don't care.

On One Hand

Every evening it's about deciding which is worse: Today, or Tomorrow.

If Today is worse, you go to bed straight away. Or somewhere between 8 and 9 p.m. anyway.

If Tomorrow is worse, you stay up drinking.

It can be a toss-up at times. Like tonight.

Thai'd Up

In a previous post about this Thai place close to work which i frequent, i mentioned how the hostess often made me self-conscious about the dreaded confirmation: Party of one.

There's this other hostess who doesn't rub me the wrong way. They both recognize me by now, of course. Unlike Ms. Tactless, this lady would simply smile and ask, "One?" I'd nod, and that would be it.

The other day, Lady-in-Waiting had already sat me down and taken my order. A minute later, Ms. Tactless spotted me, approached, and hurled a menu onto my table.

"How many today?" She inquired. "By yourself?"

Yes, still alone, ma'am. I mean what made her think today was any different? She might as well have said, "Still alone? Still pathetic? No change?"

And i would nod, expressionless. And hope that would - finally - be the end of it.

Yep, gonna be alone. I have accepted it. Why can't you?

And the Beat Goes On...

A manic episode can lead to a false sense of invincibility, and thus, recklessness.

As perceived by the rest of the world anyhow.

On the way to W's, i was pulled over for speeding.

In the past, i'd get really intimidated and shaky. And i'd feel stupid. Angry. Would take months to get over.

Today, by the time the officer came to my window, i'd already whipped out all documentation.

"How's it going?" The CHP guy opened.

"Alright," i replied. "Until you pulled me over." I almost grinned.

"Well, you were going faster than everyone else in the fast lane," he explained. Well, that's kinda the point of speeding, isn't it? Otherwise you'd be - well, slow.

"My guess was you were going at 80," he said. "Do you know how fast you were going?"

Well, more like close to 90, if you must know. "80 sounds about right," i smirked and looked him straight in the eye.

If you're looking for remorse, Mr. Man, you ain't gonna get it from me. "I'm just sorry i got caught," as Kitty the pineapple heiress states in Chicago. : )

He'd caught sight of me at Wolfe and didn't come up till Winchester. That's a good 6 miles. "I could hardly keep up with you," he bemoaned.

Could hardly keep up, ay? A sense of superiority washed over me. It was warm and silky. Like cognac. If he was trying to discourage my behavior, he was not doing a very good job.

"I noticed that you slowed down when you spotted the San Jose Police car ahead," he continued.

So what's that supposed to imply? Admission of guilt? The way i see it, if you got skillz, it's your prerogative to move at the speed you like. And them schmucks better stay clear of your path. And in hindsight, he could've turned on the sirens at the start of the pursuit. Instead, he played fair and square - in stealth. Someone wanted to prove his skillz!

The officer and i - we're not that different.

And here's the trip: Would he have caught up with me had i not slowed down?? Honestly, he was so behind, i never saw him until i hit the brakes. Seriously, you think 80 mph is fast? Puh-leeease!!!

I need to move to Germany where there's no such thing as a speed limit. It makes sense, since the real speed limit in the universe as we know it is the speed of light. Just ask God. Or Einstein.

High & Mighty

I am the epitome of bipolarity.

Friday night, having my life end sounded appealing. Or, at least, envisioning driving a butcher knife in my left thigh brought a warped sense of peace.

On Saturday, i had two firsts. I rode BART out to the city. I dined out at night. Alone.

On our way to the train station i kept going, "Woo hoo! Taking the BART!" Denisse kept laughing. But i'm sure she was laughing with me. : D

Having dinner alone in a public place (food courts don't count) is a huge milestone. It's my way of saying, "I'm 36, i'm alone, and i'm okay with it. Bite me!"

And damn it, i really, really wanted sushi at my favorite place in Hayward. And it was on the way home from Denisse's. I just don't "happen to be in the neighborhood" that often.

The sushi chef, who has known me and my brother and Elsie for over a decade and a half, gave me a free roll. Yes, it took courage to put myself out there, but i did the right thing. (And not because i scored freebies!) I felt really empowered. And the extra, extra spicy tuna made me cry. But i couldn't be prouder.

Earlier in the day, it was an absolute high to discover the farmer's market at the Ferry Building on Pier 2. We witnessed giant leeks, conjoined twins of a tomato, and wild varieties of fungi - mushrooms that totally blew our mind. (No hippie pun intended!) They came in all shapes and sizes, and there were yellow and pink ones. One that looked like a funky 'do was called Lion's Mane. So cool! We had no idea.

And seeing happy humans and canines all around whilst savoring the sensation of see breeze on your face (breathing in the unique decay that was the ocean) was just wondrous.

I stopped in my tracks to take in the scenery. "What are you looking at?" Asked Denisse.

"The modern marvel that is the Bay Bridge," i replied. We laughed. But i did mean it. She didn't have to know that.

On the way to Union Square we happened to catch the St. Patty's Day parade on Market Street. We felt anything but festive in our black outfits. But having been there is like being part of history!

(I'm tellin' ya, i'm having a high!)

Sunday morning. Again, could not sleep in. I hopped out of bed at 6:34 and headed over to the gym. It nevered occurred to me that they didn't open till 8. So i shopped for groceries instead. And by groceries, i mean Coke Zero and frozen entrées.

Once i was done putting everything away and updating my iPod playlists, i headed back to the gym, and worked out like a fiend.

Between more floor exercise at home and hitting the shower, i sent Denisse like a dozen messages.

(Did i mention i was high?)

Went to dim sum with my brother W and his. Made plans to go out for dinner to which Elsie might invite friends.

"Sure!" i enthusiastically responded even before she was done making the suggestion. W cracked a knowing (but approving) smile - i was way hyperactive and way cheery.

After luncheon, shopped and bought a bunch of clothes i don't need. All the while trodding around in a twill mini which i look pretty damned good in, now that i work out like a fiend. (This coming from a slacker who skipped from two weeks before Thanksgiving to two weeks after Valentine's!...)

If the unquenchable desire for new clothes stems from the need to showcase my bod, i hope i don't get fat again! : P

And now that i've uploaded my weekend pix, there's nothing left to do but wait. But I can't just sit here. I have to look for the next thing.

One might say my mountains have gotten higher, and my valleys lower. It's enigmatic.

Yep, it's gonna be a lo-o-ong way down. The higher the climb, the ouchier the fall.

Move Over, Sigmund

Last night, when Denisse lent an ear to my woes, i busted out all sorts of psychotherapy lingo and theories that really impressed her. I mentioned how it's subconscious self-sabotage for me to find myself constantly drawn to unavailable men. And my longing to be part of someone's world was due to lack of a sense of identity. She started some introspection which led to the enlightenment that, for her, it's all about the pursuit. Once the chase is over and the prey is at her disposal, the thrill dies, and she lets go. (I thought this conquest mentality was more a guy thing. But, whatever.)

Boy, do we have issues galore.

Turned out that JD was on a date when i called. It's always nice to have our recapitulation to count on, after yet another failed attempt at a mature, fulfilling relationship out there on our own.

JD and i have a bond like no other. "You're the only one i can be blatantly depressed with," i told him.

That's something. That's special. What i don't have with JD means so much more to me than what i don't have with any other guy.

(LOL.)

Drag Your Feet... Or Kick Your Heels

Sleeping in excess is a sign of depression.

Been doing that in the past two days. I'd come home from work, and hit the couch. There are times when you just have to shut out the world. There are times when you just have to go away, and even alcohol won't do it.

But you can only sleep so much. Tonight i wake up at 7 p.m., unable to do anything. And i mean anything. Not even drink. That's when i know it's really bad. I just sit there, curled into a ball.

Tuesday night I had a really fun, comfortable conversation with Matt that lasted almost an hour. I thought, hey, maybe this will work out after all. Given, i was drunk. But he didn't seem to mind. He was probably drunk too. I couldn't tell, since i was drunk.

Then Wednesday we talked on the phone again, and i realized how little we had in common.

For crying out loud, he runs five evenings a week. And does his own gardening to "stay in touch with the earth".

The way he rambled on about him, i surmised he probably doesn't care all that much about me, but only likes the fact that i am a good listener and seem to care. I mean, that's why everybody likes me. It's never about me.

"I was thinking you can mail my earrings to me," i said. "Cos it sounds like you're gonna be busy in the next few weeks."

He said he'd bring them to my office the next day.

I said he didn't have to do that. He insisted. And sounded happy when he said, "See you tomorrow!"

The night prior i had joked that i was keen in getting those earrings back cos I was afraid his psycho ex-girlfriend who had called when we were in bed at 1 a.m. might snatch 'em.

"Like, 'Whose are these?!'" Matt joked in resonance.

But never denied the existence of a psycho ex-girlfriend!

So, of course, why am i surprised. He never showed on Thursday. Not so much as a phone call.

I have enough of an issue with broken promises. But for someone not to even acknowledge having broken a promise... That's a mortal sin.

Don't make a promise unless you intend to keep it. I don't.

And he's in L.A. by now to see his kids.

I shouldn't be with someone who has kids. With all the responsibilities, i would never even come close to being among the top priorities. I'm an idiot.

Again i'm painfully aware i'm always drawn to men who aren't available.

So that brought on full-blown depression. It doesn't take much a trigger.

Last night i saw that both JD who had just returned from a week's vacation in FL, and Ms. Milwaukee herself had read my blog. That brought about a moment of happiness and peace. Cos someone cares about what's happenin' in my life.

Funny how it doesn't take much to become relatively buoyant either.

And Denisse, God bless her heart, has been really supportive, even though i couldn't even bring myself to begin to explain why i was so depressed.

"I'm a fool," I claimed.

"You're human," she said.

This morning i saw that JD had called last night, long after i'd been in bed. I called him back tonight, but he didn't pick up.

Just when i thought nothing would come to my rescue, though, i decided to have single malt, which my brother W had just recently turned me on to. It worked! Go figure. It's 86 proof.

To blog is the first step to healing. LOL.

Do Too Have a Support System

Last night my sis-in-law Elsie called "just to see how [i was] doing".

Finding the question ridiculous, i almost shrugged, "Not too bad."

That's my way of saying "could be worse". And if i ever say, "Can't complain"? That's my way of saying "I'm miserable, but I don't feel I have the right to complain."

Elsie does that. She checks in on me.

I realized afterward: That's her way of saying, "You OK? Suicidal?"

That's nice.

Know Thyself

I had dry heaves again this morning. As usual, violent pumping and traces of blood.

This occurrence used to alarm me. Now i know it's just that mixing alcohol with ibuprofen can cause your stomach to bleed. Nothing to lose sleep over. Ha!*


*This is funny because i couldn't go back to sleep till after 5 this morning

Sleepless Rambling 2

Over breakfast on Sunday, Denisse asked me why i don't talk to my mother.

"Uh, because i don't enjoy it," i replied. She chuckled.

So we had a little chat about how impossible it is to please my Mom.

A few months ago, when i started making friends at work and going out with them, i wrote my Mom about it. Essentially, she said:

Making friends is fine and dandy, but GET YOURSELF A BOYFRIEND!

GET CRACKIN'! NOW!

OK... her exact words were, "I'm still hoping for an ideal son-in-law."

And here are the criteria including, but not limited to:

- Of Chinese heritage and fluently bilingual (¿Habla español también? That much betta!)
- Educated and financially established (translation: makes six figures, owns real estate and a well-diversified portfolio)
- Decent height and decent looking; a healthy diet and body mass index
- Parents cannot be separated, divorced, or widowed
- No nasty habits: Doesn't smoke, doesn't drink, doesn't watch porn, doesn't pimp (in fact, the last no-no is why she hates JD to this day. Ha! Kidding!)
- Never married, never shacked up with a girl. In fact, a virgin. Why, her daughter is a virgin!
- Has friends who also meet the criteria above

To quote her verbatim: "Someone i can proudly present to my relatives".

What? And here i was, thinking it was about my happiness?!

Sleepless Rambling

Some late nights, when i'm insomniac, i can still hear JD scream, "Touch my polyp!!!!!"

Funny story. You had to be there.

Sometimes i think i won't ever be at that kind of comfort level with anyone else.

The polyp is there no mo. JD severed it with a nailclipper. There was blood everywhere, he said. That crazy bastard.

How's This For Living In the Moment

At dusk, i saw a smokestack against the backdrop of an impending sunset. The silhouette was so conspicuous, I was instantaneously turned on.

Yep, it's been TOO long since i got laid.

Quote 21

Before you came along, i had a great life. OK, maybe not great. It was OK. OK, it was empty. But i was blissfully unaware. Now i'm acutely aware that i'm unhappy. So, thanks a lot!

- me paraphrasing Paula, Failure to Launch

And You May Quote Me 7

As you age, you're like an onion that grows layers. The older your get, the harder it is to get to the core.

Life Is Good (Did I Say That Out Loud?)

On a good day, like, when i actually believe in the sanctity of life, i really appreciate "Unwritten" by Natasha Bedingfield.

Today is
Where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten

'Cause sometimes when i watch a drama, i think, wouldn't it suck if someone was writing the script of your life, and laughing?

One can only hope at least it'd make a gripping saga.

It was one of those weekends when i didn't come home till Sunday afternoon.

Matt asked me out on Friday. Enough to turn me giddy all day. Like a schoolgirl. The old, "Oh, the movie is playing 'round my house, why don't you stop by first?"

But i'm all for that. I'm thrilled to check out his place. And it's easier to drink to your heart's content in privacy. And if you're lucky, you get a make out session.

So i had my first martini, dirty, with Matt cracking, "What, you've never done it dirty?"

It was enthralling to see him behind the bar, given that he used to bartend.

At one point i had the tremors (ha, ha) and spilled martini on my sleeve. "Let's get you out of those wet clothes," Matt said, grinning. It took me a second to realize he was being cute. And cute he was. : )

He proudly showed me around the house, which was just adorable.

The lines at the theater were loooong. I was glad when he suggested to have drinks instead.

We headed over to BJ's. The place was hopping. And very warm. I had to take off my sweater, revealing my skimpy top with a very, very low V.

It was no mistake. I had decided that, if he didn't respond to that, it was not worth a shot.

"You look great tonight!" Exclaimed Matt, staring at my breasts. And he didn't take his eyes off those babies for 30 seconds, all the while trying to carry on a conversation.

Most women would whine, "I'm up here!" But i wanted him to notice me and like me for more than my brain, damn it.

(A little feminist joke. Relax!)

So i'm glad the drastic measure worked. At least now i know where i stand. Sorta.

As soon as i was done with my drink, he ordered me another one.

"You trying to get me drunk?" I asked, laughing.

"Of course!" Matt grinned.

So we headed back to his place and attempted to watch a movie on DVD, but he couldn't get the video to work. We wound up shooting pool.

I'm sure he enjoyed peeking down my shirt every time i leaned over to make a shot.

Matt is impressed by the oddest things about me. Like when i grilled him for not hugging his black lab, Gunther*, and i asked if he was "emotionally constipated". He thought it was like the cleverest thing. And when he noticed i was wearing Uggs.

What he didn't know was that i tried to curb my horniness by hugging Gunther all night. "Give mama some sugar!" I was hollering inside.

So of course at the end of the night i was too trashed to drive. He invited me to stay till i sobered up.

And it was an unspoken agreement that, out of the six rooms in the house, i would crash in his bed.

We just cuddled, and watched Jay Leno. As if we were an old couple. It was surreal.

And the goodnight kiss was brief, but with tougue. Strange.

I woke up at 4:05 a.m., which really was five to four, cos his clock was ahead. I took off.

The road home was like Lost Highway by David Lynch.

Sat morning i realized i'd left my earrings on his nightstand. Damn it. Knowing him, i won't hear from him for days, if not weeks.

Those are my work earrings, too. But then i calmed down. Must've been a subconscious effort to have an excuse to see him again.

The weather was just gorgeous for the entire weekend. Turned out Denisse also scored a date. Sat afternoon.

"Hw was your date?" i texted her.

"Let's exchange information later," she texted back. I laughed so hard.

So of course we had to party a little. Denisse sported this very sexy red lacy number. I was like, Whoa! I guess a little sexual tension never hurt anyone, ay? Indeed it is motivation to strive.

Then on Sunday we went down to the Artisan District on Fourth Street in Berkeley. What a beautiful day to be outdoor and just soak up the sun! I did my confident stride in my boots, when i should've been in flip flops. I actually enjoyed the leisure even though i couldn't afford to buy anything.

Come Sunday evening. Neurosis kicks in a little and i keep recalling Matt's soft lips and moist tongue and wondering, "What does it all mean?"

But thank God there's been enough therapy to keep me grounded. Yeah, that's right. Therapy, and a couple of Stoli Razberi with tonic, baby!


*Names changed to protect individuals' identity

Merry Thursday

Thursday is the new Friday, and i really didn't want to be sitting at home. So, even though i was dead tired at the end of the day, i went to happy hour with this sector of my online group.

I love the president of this club. She's a cool gal. And she seems to genuinely like me. She immediately remembered my name and where it was we first met. Almost half a year ago. I almost shed a tear, i was so touched.

I arrived 20 minutes early. Knowing me! Probably no one was even looking, but i was so self-conscious. There are many things i can do alone. But being in a bar all by myself is not one of them.

I did not click with Ms. President's friends, though. It's near impossible to get to know anyone yelling around a large dining table. And besides, having to stop at two drinks to avoid a DUI? Not a fun time.

But i got to have Irish sausage for the first time so that was cool : ) [I wish that was a dirty joke!]

And Denisse had Cuban for the first time on her end. I asked her how it was.

"Like Mexican," she replied. "Beans and rice."

Probably not politically correct. But funny!

But she did enjoy her two daiquiris and that's all that counts, right?

Walking to my car, i passed by the sushi place that York II took me to on our second date. All the plastic sushi in the window looked so tantalizing! For a second, i imagined walking in there and ordering me nigori sake and mirugai and ama ebi and...

I wish i lived in a culture where dining alone is not a stigma. I mean, shouldn't we rejoice in singles busting out and living a little, instead of being shamed into remaining in the confines of their own home?

Man, i need to move to Japan.

Random Thoughts

I'm having a huge craving for deviled eggs... i NEED to search for a recipe online, so i can make it this weekend. (Yeah, right. By tomorrow i will have changed my mind. I mean, this morning i thought i wanted pizza. And let's face it. I order pizza, like, twice a year.)

It would've been with basil, sun-dried tomatoes, and... what kind of meat i couldn't decide. Something Freudian about that, i'm sure.

I can't believe i'm out of Absolut Kurant!

At the old store i really enjoyed helping my customers. When you truly care, it shows, and (most) people appreciate that.

I felt well-liked there. By both my customers and coworkers. Like my existence mattered. They asked for me by name, for christ's sake. Kinda like Cheers.

But there can be only one Norm.

Today i sadly realize that i have ceased to care at the new place. When i ask, "How may i help you?", even i can detect the nonchalance in my voice. I might as well say, "Quickly state your problem so i can get off the phone. Stat!"

When a relationship doesn't make you a better person than you would be alone, get out. The same goes for jobs, i believe.


(Photo: Courtesy of The Deviled Egg Gourmet)

A Somber Note? Not Me

Ms. Milwaukee writes another comment. I can tell she's a little thrilled she's made a difference. I'm a little bewildered that my reaction affected her.

It's all good.

I hope Ms. Milwaukee doesn't think i'm stalking her, but since my prior brief browsing i've really appreciated her sense of humor. So i read a few more posts tonight. "Cheap Cat Toy" and "Thanks For the Threat" were LOL funny. And i'm the sort of person who thinks credit should be given where credit is due.

So here you are, hafta hand it to ya, saw: You're witty!

... And besides, she likes Bloody Mary. She's practically a sage.

But what really floored me was "Things I Have Done Or Not Done". Upon viewing the list, i realize: I haven't lived at all! I mean there are things i always thought i'd do at some point, like getting a tattoo, or being inside a pyramid (Luxor doesn't count). But i just... haven't.

Although... i have to say... i do look forward to #92. Ha!

And You May Quote Me 6

Being a hermetic depressive is a paradox of aching over a void, and yet not wanting to fill it.

The Twinkling of an Eye

Life takes funny turns. (Not haha funny.) Especially for a bipolar, i suspect.

Take tonight, for instance. I was stewing in sorrow like i hadn't been in a while. I felt like i was falling down an abyss but would never reach the bottom. I imagined cutting myself again. Complete with visions of blood spurts.

Whadaya know, turns out the IP addresses at both Menlo Park and Milwaukee are real people!

For some inexplicable reason, JD's IP address has been rerouted to Menlo Park. "I haven't moved," he assured me a few nights ago.

"You've been reading my blog after all!" I exclaimed. "Life has meaning again!"

We broke into drunken laughter.

Then tonight Ms. Milwaukee (i didn't mean for this to sound pristine) took the time to let me know that, yes, thank you very much, she's a real person.

It brought a smile to my face. Something on my blog caught her eye at the time, she says.

This is what it's all about! Hence the title of my blog: Interconnectivity.

I went ahead and checked out her blog. Her post that was down on therapy totally cracked me up. I so relate!

And it's uncanny i just trashed therapy earlier tonight.

My mood was instantly altered. By a stranger. Kinda like It's a Wonderful Life. You never know whose life you're gonna touch. Even for a brief moment. You may save someone's life without knowing.

And if that makes me naive and unstable, then so be it. (As if "unstable" is a big surprise!)

IMHO

On Therapy:

Nothing works. They lied!

Shoot Me, Quick

I detect a behavioral pattern of mine wherein i need to gain access to activities introduced to me by a guy i'm into, but is not interested in a relationship with me.

Case in point: Months and months (and months) ago, York II (boy, is that ancient history) made me portobello-stuffed tortellini he'd bought at Trader Joe's. It was simply scrumptuous.

(It was probably not even portobello, but just your garden variety mushrooms. So i embellish. Sue me.)

After i was proven to be anything but the love of his life, it'd become my intention to look for that variety of tortellini.

But i don't shop at Trader Joe's. So months and months (and months) float by.

Until one Sunday after an eventful weekend with Denisse, when i accompanied her to one of her weekly errands. In our sweats. Sweet.

Denisse was aware of this obsession in the back of my head. Spotting the product in the freezer section along with sun-dried tomatoes and prosciutto, she pointed and brought it to my attention.

"That's it!!!" I cried, enraptured.

She chuckled.

I'm glad my pathological obsession was entertaining.

And after all that anguish, i didn't make a purchase. My residence was, after all, 51 miles from Denisse's. And besides, knowing that the pasta was available was enough.

Commensurately, ever since Matt took me to Saratoga and Los Gatos on our pseudo first date, and i don't hear from him for 5 weeks on end, and he never, but never, makes commital statements such as "I'll call you next week" or "We should do this again sometime", it's bugged me to no end that, prior to him driving me around in his Corvette, i'd never even been to either city (or town).

Today, finally, i drove down Big Basin Drive to check out the scene. I meant to loop around Pierce Road to check out the wineries, but missed the turn. I stayed on Big Basin even though there were plenty of turnouts to go back.

I wound up at crossroads. A vista point at the intersection of Hwy 9 and Skyline.

There was an abundance of Harley bikers. But no view. Don't they know that "vista" means "view"? It's a fraud!

I had taken a good number of pix at Villa Montalvo Arboretum today, though, before getting lost. Not too shabby, except, upon viewing them, i realized i really missed adjustable depth of field with a single dial on aperture on a single lens reflective.

Which is why i haven't published any of these shots. You can manage exposure and contrast in Photoshop, but never depth of field.

There was this shaded area with mossy vegetation and a mossy path. Just totally out of control. Where i come from, moss is a nuisance you can't shake a stick at. To Matt, it's God's gift to a backyard.

I was gonna email Matt with the pic, saying, "Saw moss. Thought of you. IM me."

But i didn't.

Nonetheless, i have achieved my goal, haven't i? When i was zooming down those winding roads, not having a man couldn't be further from my mind.

Nothing could bring me down. Not even those Taiwanese Christians in Parking Lot 3, holding hands in a circle, long after they'd parked, loudly chanting, "Thank you, O Lord, for bringing us to Montalvo... To witness your glory!" Over and over.

And over.

Loudly.

Medical Progress

I just caught the most recent Clearblue commercial. Apparently, they have yet again improved the design of their pregnancy testing device.

Just when i thought in disdain, "It's still just a strip you pee on!", the voiceover announced, "The most sophisticated strip you'll pee on!"

Wow. How far does a pregnancy test need to evolve? Maybe it's a plus sign, or a minus. Maybe it's one line, or two. Or it turns blue, or pink. How hard can it be to interpret the results?!!! There are TWO possible outcomes, TWO readings. OMG. Not like you shake it and it can go, "Maybe", or "Ask later"!

This latest masterpiece of modern marvel has a digital display. If you're pregnant, lo and behold, it says "pregnant"!

But, wait, women are stupid, remember? Why read when you can just have a baby icon pop up instead?

This reminds me of the whole razor blade craze. If 2 are good, 3 must be better. If 3 are better, 4 must be out of this world!... Some things are just better left alone.

Know what, Clearblue? I'll applaud when you spend research funds in finding the cure for cancer. Come to think of it, i'll level with ya. Bang for the buck? Nix genital herpes.

By Yours Truly

Spaghetti Alfredo with Sun-Dried Tomatoes,
Sautéed Prawns, Corn & Parsley

Quote 20

Don't let the battery corrode in there!

- JD, upon learning i haven't been using a present he gave me @ Christmas 2004: a vibrator

Saturday Morn

Saturday morning should be the happiest hours of the entire week. But i woke up with much depression. I wonder if it's because i didn't drink last night.

Could've wined and dined on the Embarcadero last night. Totally ditched that. Today Denisse wants to go out to the Chinese New Year parade at Union Square, possibly followed by salsa dancing. (Yeah, that's California for ya.) But i'm not sure i want to stand for 2 hours in the cold observing a culture i'm not that interested in. (I'm allowed to say that. I'm Chinese American.)

Haven't felt much like blogging lately. Which is not a good sign. All i have passion for these days is writing. If i don't even have that going, i shudder to think...

I think that lack of motivation stems from the belief that no one cares what happens in my life.

I hate to admit that it is a blow that JD has stopped reading my blog. Which is ridiculous, because i've written through months of no communication before. But he always read my blog. Even if he'd skip weeks at a time. Now i'm left to conclude he really is completely out of my life. And sadness washes over me.

I've been thinking, either he's gone back to therapy which requires total abstinence from alcohol, or he's dead.

A part of me wishes it's the latter. I don't mean that, of course. But you know how girls ponder why a guy doesn't call after a first date, and say things like, "I hope it's because he's been hit by a bus and is comatose at the moment." Similar sentiment. Let it never be about us.

This week, during an afternoon chitchat, a coworker started with prying, personal questions like, "Do you live alone?", and "Not even a boyfriend?" This was only like the third conversation we'd had since we met 4 weeks ago! And then he felt sorry for me. Don't worry, he's just insensitive, not interested. He's happily married.

But enough with the pity already! You fuck.

There wasn't enough time or energy to explain why, given my track record in the past 4 years or so, i am grateful to be alone.

See, JD would appreciate the humor in this incident.

A few nights ago, to my delight, Matt replied to 3 emails in a row, sounding really giddy. I'm sure he was under the influence.

I wrote, "Since you don't do IM, this slightly delayed emailing will do for now."

He wrote right back, earnestly inquiring on the IM alternative.

Exhilarated since no one had been available for IM in a great while, i replied with the info. And never heard back.

Two days later, he called me at work out of the blue to tell me how his computer crashed right after he popped the IM question that fateful night, and he couldn't even reboot in Safe Mode. Had to reinstall the OS and everything, and lost all data.

Course, we couldn't continue the conversation cos i had another call. For the next two days we just kept playing phone tag. One of us always had a customer.

It's a sign. The gods of IM do not want us to get with it.

Yesterday i had my taxes done at H & R Block. The accountant who worked with me was obviously an alcoholic. Was divorced, had broken capillaries on his cheeks, and reminisced about the time he lived in Tokyo when he perfected his Japanese by hanging out at a bar. The locals loved him.

I've said this before and i'll say it again. Drunken fools are all around us.

Incidentally, in the past two weeks or so, i've noticed that a couple of IP addresses have been frequenting my blog. One is in Menlo Park, the other in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. (Milwaukee, of all places!)

I'm sure these are not real persons, but machines monitoring traffic on my site.

And I hereby proclaim: With Dionysus as my witness, continue writing I shalt. (I picked Dionysus over the gods of IM, since the gods of IM are not in my good graces right now. LOL!)