Sunday, December 30

You Know What? No.

I'm not going to be like that. I have no reason to be like that. I have good friends (whether they live by me or have lots of time or not) and amazing family who will always support me and give me shelter and love when I need it, mush, mush, etc etc etc, ad naseum. Plus, the fantastic comments I got at the Sad post lead me to reason that you girls are all too spectacular to listen to me whine all the live-long day. So I can't guarantee I'm stopping for good, but I'll give it an effort.

Part of me is angry at Bruce for twisting the knife, I suppose, by writing about girls. ("The knife you stabbed yourself with?" you ask. Yes.) I stopped being a big part of his blog a long time ago, but since it played such a huge part in our early relationship I still see it as 'mine' somehow. Most of the territory I'd marked as 'mine' for him is faded, the feeling isn't that strong. I guess my metaphorical pee is taking a longer time to rinse off that particular area, that's all. Why should I be angry with him? It's his fucking blog, after all. He wrote it, it's supposed to be a fairly accurate account of his life, and I'm sure it is. Girls are pretty awesome, after all. Especially those who drink beer. I'm glad somebody realizes it. Maybe if it was the "best of the last quarter of 2007", I'd feel less pissy about it. I don't know. What I do know is that in a few years I'm likely to look back on this post and the Sad post before it and cringe at my own sensitivity to crap that doesn't matter anymore. But isn't that what a blog is for?

Thursday, December 27

For Work: A Paradraw

Warning: Sad.

Today is a bad day.

Most of it was fine, but I keep getting hit in the face with things that are bad, or things that make me feel bad. Or things that make me feel bad for feeling bad about them, because what the hell? I shouldn't feel bad about that anymore! Or because, well, sometimes it just sucks to be lonely.

#1. I was struck in the car today on the way from one house to another that I am borderline depressed at my life not turning out the way I always wanted it to. I've done what I thought was best, all the time, and yet? Here I am, alone again. Back where I started. Oh, wait, now I'm three years older and much more jaded. Oh! And still technically married. I'm a catch, ladies and gentlemen.

#2. Just ran across Bruce's list of great things for 2007 and, unlike some of the other things that have struck me and made me sad and jealous in really sick ways on his blog since we split up, I don't think his listing of "girls" and "girls who drink beer" are really something I can interperate wrong. Nope. Why am I like this? So bitter and sad and wanting everyone else to be too? It makes me feel sick inside. I did this because we will both be happier. Why can't I be happier first for once? See? I'm a selfish bitch.

Anyway, those are the two things I can think of that made me cry today. I'm hoping to seriously lower my score for tomorrow. Seriously.

Thursday, December 13

Olden People:

Marc : But I need to go anyway, so may kill two birds with a stone, or just one. Either way, birds will be killed.
Marc : Stupid expression
sunnyfreakingday: yeah, what did the poor birds ever do?
Marc : Were people ever that stingy with stones?
Marc : I mean, who's ever said "I'd really like to kill and eat that bird, but I've already killed one bird with this stone..."
Marc : Of course, nothing from the olden days makes sense
sunnyfreakingday: yeah, those olden days.
Marc : Pop Goes the Weasel...what the hell does that mean?
sunnyfreakingday: i always pictured throwing the stone once and somehow magically hitting two birds.
sunnyfreakingday: like a rebound or something
sunnyfreakingday: which actually makes less sense, i think
Marc : Yeah, me too.
sunnyfreakingday: now, saving the stone and hitting another bird another day, now that makes sense
Marc : But I wondered why you couldn't just pick up the stone if you missed the bank shot and kill the second bird later
sunnyfreakingday: but, like you say, who's that stingy with stones?
Marc : I dunno
Marc : Olden people
sunnyfreakingday: oh, those olden people
sunnyfreakingday: i'm shaking my head.
Marc : Olden people sure liked barrels
Marc : That's one thing I've learned from video games
sunnyfreakingday: oh, indeed they did
Marc : And inns
sunnyfreakingday: yes
Marc : Did you tell you I'm addicted to an RPG?
sunnyfreakingday: no, but it's all coming clear now

Wednesday, December 12


Every single month I get to the point where I'm almost crying in frustration, not understanding why I'm so down and gloomy before I realize: Hey! This happened last month, too! And then I realize, Hey! This sucks! But at least I know what it is!

Sunday, December 9

Steve of the Yesterday:

He: What does the "H" stand for, anyway? Heysoos?

Me: ...

He: [honestly looks for an answer to his question]

Me: Jesus doesn't start with an "H", man.

Both: [hysterical laughter causing tears to flow]

Steve of the Day:

Me: "Who's winning?"

He: "I'm up by two games, baby!" [Making inane train engineer movement with arm] "Wooo - WOOOO!!!!"

Me: "Are you trying to be hot? Who finds train noises hot?"

He: "The women during the INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION."

Monday, December 3

Love Hurts

They say love shouldn't hurt, but it does. It hurts for a lot of reasons. It hurts because if it didn't, you might not realize how important it is. It hurts because for some people, that's the only way it'd reach through their thick skins. It hurts to ignite the instinct to hold on when we get scared it's going away. It hurts. Love hurts, but in a way that lets you know you're alive.