Not In Kansas Anymore...

Click your heels, and see if home is where you hang your hat, or somewhere else inside yourself as this simple, postmodern girl takes on L.A.

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

I haven't been writing much because so much has been going on, and I don't know how to explain it all. I've been wrangling with Big Bookseller, working, I had a nasty cold for a week, been wrestling with issues about age, boys, fate, karma....trying to talk my brother off the ledge and dealing with not having $5 to my name. I'm also up for a pretty serious job candidacy that I don't want to jinx by talking about....yet. I've been back in touch with some friends I thought I'd lost, with mixed feelings and results. It's been kind of hard to get time to write it all down. I've been really tired. Having a hard time findng words, or knowing who to talk to if I did have them.

But here's something for you.

Last night I cut 5 inches of hair off. I was up late and I don't know what came over me, I guess it was kind of a fit of pique. I'd been wanting to cut it off for some time now, since it's all dead, and it was ruined earlier this year by a very, very bad haircoloring incident. But I didn't, and was carefully trying to maintain it via these strategies from the hairdresser that dealt with said incident afterwards. I'm always very vain about my hair and I didn't want to give up the length.

Lately I've been craving to just cut it all off, and well, I guess I gave in.

I'd like to say I was in full control of my faculties, but I wasn't. I was exhausted and I was under the influence of my meds, which make me a little loopy a few hours after I take them ( I take them before bed).

But I can't totally say, "Yeah, the hair had to go and it was time and I didn't have the money to go to a stylist ( true)" or "I was loopy from meds ( true)" entirely. I think I was angry and frustrated and just feeling a little out of control with things in my life, and I acted out.

This really freaks me out on some level, because I don't DO those things. I just don't go around acting out like this-- I yell and cry and rant and rave an all that, and sometimes I get a little "fuck it" and impetuous and rebellious and sulk. I have on very rare occasion done something like get in the car and drive for hours just to "run away", but it's usually out of my system before I get very far. And I'm not manic-- I don't get manic, and I'm not exhibiting those symptoms. Right now I'm just exhibiting the symptoms of a very fed up girl who has done something she can't undo, and now is sort of freaked out by the fact that she did it.

Sassy commented "What do you really think is going on? Do you think it was some sort of unbalanced emotional thing?
I've really had it rough for the past few months and there are certainly times when I feel like acting out... you know, maybe if I do something out of line just once I won't feel so boxed in and pent up?"

To which I said:
"If I were to be totally honest I would have to say it wasn't like I was CHEMICALLY unbalanced or anything, since I wasn't all crying and hacking or anything like that. In other words, I didn't pull a Britney. But it definitely was a moment of emotional unrest, if you will....

I had just colored my hair with one of those dumb "washes out in 28 shampoos!" rinses again because I can't use REAL color because of aforementioned coloring mishap several months ago. But I just was so....ugh. It looked really cheap, and the ends were so dead, and no money, and so there was that. (I've been thinking about getting a Victoria Beckham for awhile, but too chicken. Now I have a cheap version.)But while I've been known to trim my ends myself, this was 6"!

But primarily, yes, it was that pent-up, frustration, goddammit, fuck this all, boxed-in I'm-freaked-about-a-number-of-things-I-can't-control, and I'm going to cut my hair. *Sigh*.

I did talk to the shrink who said there were worse things I could do and to take a big breath. I'm trying not to judge myself but I'm feeling, like "Wow, Jess, how wacko" and so forth.

Jesus, I didn't want to traumatize myself, but I kinda did. KWIM?"

Both R and the shrink offer that it's about change. It's the quickest way to change something and it's something you easily have control over. R even offered that he once got two haircuts in two days, because unconsciously, he thought it would change things. Not surprisingly, it didn't.

I dont know. I don't know whether it was a "I'm going to control THIS!" sort of thing, I suppose that was in there. I know that "I've had it, dammit, waiting for things to gain clarity or come through or be managable or understandable or whatever." I suppose that's wanting to reclaim my control over my life? Make sense? I don't get to say what happens, and I'm hating that feeling....

In the end, I am still a bit freaked. Not with the hair, per se, as it's not bad. I've certainly put in my days in HS during a serious New Wave period where I used to cut my hair all the time, so it's not a wreck ( it's more of a really short bob). More like this conversation with another friend, Mitzy, went:

Her: " I think the impetuousness of you is what makes you so interesting. I can't tell - are you really upset about this? Or is it kind of cool? Or both? You have some brass ones! And I would love to offer some (((((((HUGS)))))) to you - but only if you'll hug back. : ) "

"Oh you know, I'm a person who gets herself a wild hair up her ass and gives in. I guess in some ways I don't really believe in restricting yourself to things that might be interesting just because they might fail miserably. On the other hand, I'm not so young anymore, so I tend to TRY to avoid unneccessary drama WRT courting disaster and emotional wreckage. You can imagine that this is often a fine line to walk for someone like me.

I guess it's cool in the respect that I don't have any of this damaged hair anymore, which is a good feeling. It was totally weighing me downI've needed a haircut since like July, but I haven't been able to get one. And I was dragging my heels on cutting it all off. BUt I guess I had just about had it last night.

What's cool here is the fact that the hair is gone. What's not is that I took it onto myself to do it myself and if I had been able to curb my temper and frustration and reckless abandon for another few days I could have gotten paid and had it done the RIGHT way. I suppose it says something that I didn't pull a Britney and just take the clippers to it, and I'm not sitting here with a mohawk.

But I couldn't wait ONE MORE SECOND in my head. I just felt, I suppose, that this up on top of everything ELSE was going to make me snap. And there I went, *crack*. That's not cool. That scares me. I don't want to be on the edge like that. I'm not someone, with this illness, who can honestly say that being so frustrated and fed up always turns into something good for. I've been this upset and fragile before, and ended up in an episode. So I'm scared.

It also scares me that I didnt' really realize that I was this fragile. I knew I wasn't doing too great and was wrestling with alot of things, but I guess I didn't realize how heavily they were weighing on me. Now I realize they are. Very much so. And that feels overwhelming and scary, even though my hair doesn't even look that bad.

Thanks for the hugs. I think we both could use hugs right now! Of course I'll hug back. I always do."

So, you know. Just keep the hugs coming. I think I just really need alot of them right now.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Had the MOST charming conversation with the Americans With Disabilities Association today....apparently Dil is violating my rights.

PLUS, the woman said only assigning women to the Kids section is WAY discrimination.

She said Dil should have attempted retraining, additional training or some sort of other accomodation before yanking me off registers. The fact that I and several managers have asked for it over and over again ( esp. when we got new registers in Aug) and he refused is a violation. The fact that I'm only allowed at Customer Service Desk is a bit of an accomodation, but the aforementioned should have taken place PRIOR. Not to mention, if my hours are getting cut during a sales dip more than everyone elses ( which they ARE and I had a conversation with TWO ASMs to this effect) because of this original violation.... is an extra violation. :) .

...AND, when I asked to be reassigned to another store ( Studio City) where there were fewer customers and more time to learn on a register, and was told that there wasn't room, without sufficient investigation into that, THAT was a violation.

Their stupid comments about "not setting you up to fail" were affirmed as inappropriate because they have done little to set me up to succeed, and that's what the laws are all about, according to the Association.

So, it seems they've fucked up all over the place.

Hmm.... And SO, I've placed my call to We Listen ( our confidential corporate hotline, which unfortunatley is EST, and I'm of course on PST), and left a message. This should be an interesting turn of events. Not feeling guilty, or worried or bad. Feeling vindicated. Am also sure the fur is going to fly, and Dil is going to throw a fucking fit. But he can't fire me for complaining. That would be against the law. :D

Monday, September 15, 2008

Remember how I said I don't talk good ( grammatical error intended) about politics, so I usually avoid the topic? That isn't to say I don't consider the topic-- I consider the topic often-- I am just not the most well-spoken person at the party with which to converse concerning these things. I'm too given to stammering histrionics and anuerysm-inducing fits of anger when it comes to discussing politics.

Now that everyone's chosen their running mates, that's really not any different, but you know what? I feel the need to say OUT LOUD what everyone is thinking:

Sarah Palin= the "You wanna chick? We can get a chick!" patronizing, insulting pancea for everything that is wrong with the Republican campaign. Let's face it: the woman wanted to be a broadcaster, which didn't work out, and then she got into politics. She's pro-creationism, pro-life EVEN in cases of incest or rape, and pro-drilling on protected Alaskan wilderness. If that isn't enough, she's prone to firing people she doesn't like, or who disagree with her, (such as the guard who asked her to please strap in her 4month old baby for safety when she was driving around a industrial complex in an open golf cart on a tour.). If THAT isn't enough, her husband was part of a fringe group to have Alaska secede from the US. And her abstinence-only plan is working so swell that her 17 yr old daughter is knocked up by some redneck boyfriend the girl stole from her best friend since 1st grade.

That's quality, my friends. That's the kind of person we need in the White House should McCain drop dead from old age or asphyxiation from Cindy McCain's hair products. You betcha. Of course, the GOP claims Ms. Palin was fully vetted before being added to the ticket. How laughable. It's more like once they saw Obama not choose Hilary, they went for what I called it at the outset of my little rant: the sexist, pandering Vagina Vote. Which, if you think about it, is pretty farking hilarious, given that Hillary is so FAR on the other side of Palin's politics you'd have to be a stooge not to see it. Or from their perspective, a woman. Same diff, right?

Oh, but why listen to me? Let Amy and Tina say it for me. They're the professionals.

Ah, thanks ladies. I knew you'd say it like nobody else could.

Tuesday, September 09, 2008

Some updates on life in general. Are they drama free? Of course not. In fact, this week's installments are up to 25% greater in drama! CHOCK FULL OF EXTRA DRAMA! Hear that, people? MORE DRAMA FOR YOUR MONEY!!

Read on:

1.) Had a conversation last night with a friend of mine from Bookseller's cafe, Cynthia. Said another female employee asked her if Milton, the cafe manager ever gave her a creepy vibe. Of course Cynthia said yes, and told her about how I felt as well ( he flirts kind of inappropriately with me on a regular basis, which freaks me out a little, which Cynthia and I have discussed before). I found that disturbing that it's not just ME, it's someone else too, so I said I would say something to Mal. Cynthia gave her thumbs up.

I did talk to Mal, who told me that one other person had come forward about Milton making her uncomfortable ( he didn't name names), to which I said, "Well, I spoke with someone this evening who felt similarly to me and she in turn knew of someone else. I won't say who they were." He said, "You don't have to. But, now there's three of you. That's totally unacceptable. We will definitely have a talk with him and let him know he needs to be absolutely professional. "

I don't like turning in people for crap behavior, but well, I guess that's part of the deal.

2.) Told Mal I also knew that we were cutting hours because things were slow, but MY hours were lower. Why? Mine are MORE cut because whomever is there has to be backup cashier. I pointed this out to Mal last night, and he said ONCE AGAIN he spoke to Dil about letting me ring, and ONCE AGAIN, Dil refused. At which point I said, "Mal, if this continues on, -- and this is between you and me,-- but I AM going to be calling the ADA ( American With Disabilities Association) and THEN I will be calling 1-888-( the corporate hotline for complaints)." Mal said, "I know. "

He didn't even try to tell me not to. I think he's had it. He said he himself got in a huge fight with Dil a couple of days ago about EVERYTHING -- including the situation with me-- that's all fucked up because of him. And Martin blew up at Dil a last friday and called him "useless" and lost his temper. ( And Martin, beloved adorable Martin, doesnt lose his temper like that. So he must have been on the edge.).

Farking effing DIL. I have $5 for the rest of the week , my car is on "E" , and a bunch of checks that have bounced. Thank you, thank you DIL. Perhaps he will lend me $20 so I can at least get some gas to go look for another frickin' job.

3.) This one's complicated, so bear with me:

Once upon a time, when I lived back in STL, my friend R used to be the film critic at the local version of LA Weekly. Through R, I met Jeannie, who used to work for him before she moved to LA a long time ago. Jeannie essentially gave me the apartment I live in now, since when I moved here, she was pregnant and getting married and needed to move, and I needed a place to live. Sweet deal. Jeannie and I are like sisters- really close, so I know lots and lots about her.

Recently I was talking to R about this movie that Mr. Gumdrops & Feathers ( I gotta come up with something better for him, name-wise) was in, as it was shot in STL and is getting some attention from the SciFi channel, and was a big deal back home. I said, "Do you know of this movie? I don't remember what it's called, blah blah blah." R says, "OMG, not only do I know of it, it was directed by JEANNIE'S EX, Wiener ( pseudonym aptly chosen, I assure you.). Also, the attorney I work for ( R works in an attorney's office doing other things to pay the bills) is brother-in-law to the producer. AND, I knew some people who were in it...." so on and so forth.

Okay, that had me cracking UP. Mainly because Wiener and Jeannie moved out here TOGETHER 20 years ago and he was TOTAL DICK to her; lying cheating, stealing, the whole nine....( plus many, many other stories of note. Including the time she made a plaster cast of W's penis.Which she then showed to me.... but I digress). But anyway, I thought it was even FUNNIER that of course, of all the stupid places Gumdrops & Feathers decides to work when he moves to LA is the Big Bookseller branch *I* work at.

So R says, "Go check out the website" ( which I did; great trailer, Weiner!) I'm poking around, and even more ridiculousness ensues when I realize I went to school with the DP and the costume designer. Oy vey, the irony. ::Eye roll:: ( Oooh, and additionally, I get to see pics of G&F's girlfriend who HELLO! Has my. Exact. Hair. And skin and....well, I don't say this very often, while is a pretty girl, I happen to be waaaaay prettier. I know, hilarious!! Okay, you can stop laughing now.).

Anyway. All these little coincidences? It just won't stop.

So naturally I email Jeannie and she has a howl at the whole insanity and SHE emails Wiener, who thinks this is also pretty unreal and asks --of all things-- "Is she hot? Because Gumdrops & Feathers is single." Jeannie being the good pal that she is sings my praises and he says, "Oh, she should totally move in, blah blah blah." Jeannie calls me up and I explain, "Uh, I don't know, because he's all hung up on the ex, if she's an ex at all at this point, I'm not keeping track, etc." and Jeannie pauses and informs me, "Well, I hate to say this, but Wiener is not exactly known for his discretion. He's likely to call G&F immediately and tell him this entire thing, including the part where you like him. " I just say, "Alas, he had to find out somehow, so whatever. But you know what? I'm going to call him FIRST and leave him a message letting him know I talked to you and you talked to Wiener and Oh, LORDY, ISN'T THAT FUNNY? Because I don't want him to think I'm sneaking around or something, 'cause I'm not. But maybe this will FINALLY get his attention on ME the way I WANT it." Jeannie wishes me well and hangs up.

So I do call G&F and leave an-oh-so-hilarious message, telling him the WHOLE story, and saying, essentially, isn't that ironic, and it just goes to show you and god, STL is such a small world and LOL.

He doesn't call me back. As of yet. Which leads me to believe the following:

He hasn't called me back, so I'm wondering....well, I'll bet he's not interested in me and is probably doing his best to discourage it. I have a funny feeling, that's all. Not JUST because of the fact that he hasn't called me back, but because I left him a message last week about something else entirely and he didn't call back. When I saw him on Sat at work, I was like, "Uh, dude, are you mad?" He said, "No, should I be?" and when I asked him about not returning my message, ( which was sort of not something you'd ignore ) he said, "I'm just really bad at calling people back."

Uh-huh. I guess that's why you called me back the other two times I called, but then again, those had to do with plans and work. So I'm sort of suspiscious about it. He's either rude or trying to blow me off. Which is worse?

I'm so not good at these high school type games and romance. I can't deal with the constant parsing out of what things MEAN and what they might NOT MEAN. I never have been good at it, but when I was younger I had far more patience for it, whereas now, I'm just like, "Oh FUCK THIS."

And I bet he doesn't call all week, and I won't see him, at work til MAYBE next Sunday. Which brings me to the following:

Fuck it. Maybe he's just an ass, and maybe I'm wasting my time.

Jeannie's comment is that I'm reading way too much into it, and I said, "I probably am, but why on GOD'S EARTH is this person in my LIFE with all of this FUCKING coincidence then? And WHY is it that EVERYONE on the planet has a boyfriend but ME???" I mean, for real, even Kiera ( little sweet Kiera, --who is teeny and kind but very plain-- from work) has a boyfriend; (granted, it's Darrell, this dorky blond guy at work, but still.) . Everyone else my age is MARRIED. I'm just TIRED. I am sick to death of thinking about it and worrrying about it and feeling sad or wondering what I'm doing wrong, and so on and so forth. It's exhausting.

It is. Finding someone to go on dates with ( or signing up on matchmaker sites or scoping out people or asking friends if they know anyone) is exhausting. Dating itself, frankly, is exhausting. Getting to that first date? Alot of work. If that date is a nightmare? Wrings the enthusiasm right the fuck out of you. Waiting for a call from someone you went on a date with and liked? Nerve-wracking. Getting through a couple of dates til there's something of a There there? Absolutely ridiculous.

And let me add that not dating is exhausting as well. Seeing everyone around you paired up, and never having an escort to events or even someone to do things with besides your girlfriends --who are usually busy with their kids and their boyfriends and hell, just their lives-- is awful. Getting up every goddamned day and thinking, "Well, why bother? It's just me." is pretty depressing. Knowing your friends are stymied but want to help, or don't even GET how bad it is at times, while they are focused on their own couple-centric lives? Frustrating and really, just almost too much to bear.

I've tried to be upbeat about it and that usually works for a couple of months. In the end I just end up more exhausted from trying than anything else. The bottom line is that I'm okay with being by myself; I really am. I go to movies, shopping, etc.-- all kinds of stuff alone and I actually enjoy it. So it's not that I'm just a big ol' hapless unentertaining whiner. It's that the world is made for pairs, at least it seems that way. And there are only so many times you can go through phases of crippling lonleliness and then pull yourself out of it, or try to keep your chin up, before you just get TIRED of doing it. It's not fair. It just isn't.

Do you think I have brought this point home enough?

So I wrote Cherry tonight: "So if you see Mr. Gumdrops and Feathers before I do, be sure to punch him for me and tell him he's a self-centered moron and to never ever speak to me again, because either he's a dick or I'm overreacting, or very possibly both, but I CANNOT. COPE. ANYMORE. " Screw it.

So that's it. EEEEEEEVERYThiNG sucks. Don't even call me to bitch about your life because I don't wanna hear it right now. Unless you are on the verge of total collapse, I can't hack out a space toward the light for you. I'm too busy trying to crawl out of this hole myself.

Thursday, September 04, 2008

The title of this post is: Karma and The Angelina Jolie Technique

Part I

My poor little Brother. While I often disparage him for being a royally fucked up PITA as young adult and an indisputable brat growing up, and, as a grown man, fairly sexist, really angry and well, frankly, still somewhat impossible to deal with....wait, where was I going with this? Oh, yes. Right. He's come into his own in recent years and has developed a more sensitive, caring side. He's always been whip-smart intelligent and creative, but he's also developed discipline and a certain sense of loyalty that I've never seen before ( don't ask me where he got it because I couldn't tell you; sometimes I think his adolescence was worse than mine. And that's SAYING something). While I don't get to talk to him that often, we do keep in touch and we love each other, and he's gone out of his way to show it in the past few years, which I can honestly say really is a relief and blessing, given the hell-bent path of rage and self-sabotgage he'd been on from age, oh, say 14 to 24.

So maybe it is understandable that when a girl breaks his heart and leaves him broken and busted on the side of the road to go fuck his best friend ( or should I say, former best friend, who insinuated himself in with the girl when there was a bit of trouble and telling lots of my brother's confidences and doubts back to her, making himself the more appealing, "caring" guy--) and I get a 2 hour and 25 minute phone call from him today with him alternately verge of tears and murder, that I might just feel like going and mowing this little chickie down myself. WHO is this little bitch who is running him over like that, right over this little tiny sprout of a healthy start ?

*Sigh*. I'm just crushed for him. He was really trying. And he really loved this girl.

When he called, I tried everything I could. That he had better character than this guy, that this guy will turn around and do it to the girl eventually when he finds what he thinks is better, they'll both be sorry....that it was good he didn't beat the dude to a bloody pulp, can we think of strategies to contain things when you feel out of control? He's not worth going to jail for, take it one day at a time, lean on your supports, you can call me any time you want. I don't know if it worked. I think it was good that I was there to listen. I suggested he go talk to a counselor, which of course was vetoed right off the table. ( Apparently one of his buddies has, and it helped him alot, and Brother refers to him as "the smartest guy I know", but it still isn't appealing to him).

And of course my parents aren't going to make any kind of intervention in that way because well, they just won't. I'M the sick one in the family, after all.( Nevermind that we're all genetically related --although if anything, I'm the one who has been the sickEST; for whatever reason THAT is, I couldn't tell ya. I hit the genetic jackpot, I suppose--and depression and chemical dependency is rampant. ). Everyone else is just a *little* bit down or drinking or whatever. Yeah. It's FINE, and under control.....

Needless to say, I'm worried.

Still, I'm glad he called me. He said he called me because he knew I "knew what it was like to be at the edge and feel this way." Of course I do, I said. I know what it's like to feel like you're not sure you can control your own actions because of the way you feel. I mean, I've been in the hospital.

I know, he said.

I told him that whatever he had to do right now to not do something he couldn't take back later was okay. You wanna go drink? Go drink. You wanna slack off at work? Slack a little. You need to call your friends 300 times a day? Go on.

But know when you're in over your head and when that's not enough. Please.

He just feels like this girl was his only chance at happiness. She isn't, but right now, he can't see that. He's struggling. I know exactly where he is, and I know exactly how it feels. I REALLY do. Maybe this is the thing that will turn it around for him for better or worse in his life, permanently. I just hope it's for the better.

But knowing he's there without half of the tools I had? Just makes me a little sick to my stomach with worry.

And like flying home and tracking down this snake in the grass and this little tramp and knocking them both in the teeth, just so he can feel a little better.

What can I say? He's still my little brother. I still want to make it all okay for him and not as hard as it was for me. Even if he is a PITA.


Part II

I've never been an Angelina Jolie fan. Sure, she's a great actress. Lately, she's honestly even fashioned herself into some sort of real humanitarian. But she's always been as crazy as a loon, what with the cutting and the brother-kissing at the Oscars and the Borderline Personality Disorder-like sketchy-ness. The accumulation/procreation of as many children she can drag all over the world at one time isn't endearing to me, either ( unlike the rest of America, I see it as her trying in some way to fix a hole with people that she can't fill on her own--which by the way, is a very BPD thing to do. Call me whatever you want. One of those kids will have a tell-all to beat ALL tell-alls by the time he/she's outta high school, I guarantee it.).

But what really gets me is the man-stealing. Granted, you can't steal a man who doesn't want to be wooed away, but ethically speaking, what the hell are you doing sniffing around some other woman's partner to begin with? She can spin it how she wants to spin it, and they can sell all the copies of People Magazine they want with pictures of their pretty babies, but let's face it: Brad left his wife for her, and that's the end of the story. Did he and Jen have problems already? Probably. Would they have gotten divorced anyway? Maybe. I don't know, I wasn't there, but the whole thing REEKS of a situation where some snake slithered her way into being a confidante to a man who was unhappy in his marriage, and made what she had to offer look like everything he ever wanted. So instead of being a stand-up guy, and saying "I need to work on my marriage, go away", he split. In her mind, I'm sure her conscience can still be clean, knowing that she didn't ( as she affirmed in interviews later) ACTUALLY seduce him or sleep with him while he was hitched. He left first, after all. She was just there to catch the fallout, and then fairies and stardust and magic happened. Right?


The reason I bring this up is that I find myself feeling like I want to be a little snake-like lately, and god DAMN it, that feeling is hard to resist when you're attracted to someone. I can think of nothing but Angelina when I find myself drifting very close to the line of snakey behavior.

Here's the deal:

There's a guy.( Of course). He's from STL. He works with me at Bookseller. He just moved here a few months ago. We have likely been in the same circles for years and just never met, I think; he's an actor, his dad is an actor, his on/off girlfriend went to college where I went to college, WHEN I went to college AS an actor. Right now, he's going through a really depressive patch, hating LA and loathing his life, being sullen and mopey ( and a little drink-y; not that I can't relate). Of course, he's also what, if Sassy were here, would laughingly pick out of a crowd of a 1000 men and label Jessica's Type: Tall, Dark, Thin, and Handsome, With Problems.

In short, he's my heroin. God help me. The minute I laid eyes on him I KNEW: This. Is. Going to be a PROBLEM. Not good for me, but oh man. Soooooo sweet.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not stupid; this is no Anthony type. He's not that fucked up or mean or broken. He's just got that I'm-just-immature-in-key-areas-enough-to-make-a-relationship-a-total-pain-in-the-ass thing going. I SO don't NEED that. Too bad for me, for WHATEVER reason, TO me he smells like ( as Cherry put it) "gumdrops and feathers", which leaves my phermones flooding all of my reasoning skills. ( Which begs the question: why am I always chemically dragged pants-first to the Dark Men with Problems? Why?? Can I change it? WHAT IS IT?!?!?!?) PLUS I have to be around Mr. Gumdrops and Feather-Pants for 8 hour shifts at a time, a couple of times a week.

Then there's the girlfriend.

Oh, yeah, her. HER. Who lives 2 hours away in La Jolla and is driving him crazy with a "we need a break" thing every six months and her unwillingness to move HERE. He recently laid down the law with her and said, "We're done til you decide what you want."

How do I know that?

Well, let's just say I'm highly sympathetic. You know, he's got no friends here. I totally get where he's coming from on long-distance things....and GOD, those girls from my school in That Program......let me mention that I am always available to talk. And so forth.


I'm being rotten. Very, very rotten.

Likely, it will come back to bite me in the ass. First of all, he's not stupid by any stretch of the imagination, so the light-bulb is going to come on at some point, if not some workplace gossip turning to his attention to what is readily apparent to everyone else, first. Secondly, there's no indication he's even remotely noticed I'm actually a girl. Thirdly, who wants a guy who's in mope-around-over-the-last-chick mode? Lastly, there's me.

Me, because I feel like shit about me. I feel less like shit about doing this little Come-to-Me dance than I will when I will likely fail at it. (I know, that sounds awful, which is even worse, morally speaking.) But I FEEL awful lately: unnattractive, old, fat. I can't seem to emphasize it enough to the people around me, but I feel like I'm just completely having an internal meltdown over this and the age issue this year. So, when this stupid little game I'm playing doesn't play out with him ending up madly in love (or lust. I'll take lust) with me, I'm going to be crushed. He already- for reasons unknown- has not returned a text from last week and a call from this week and I'm standing around alternately self-rightoeously fuming and feeling rejected( which is retarded, since what kind of little script is running here in my head?!?!). WHAT FOR? I'm not even anything to this man yet. I'm just some girl who is awfully nice and sweet and concerned, that he met less than a month ago, that he barely knows.


Fucked up. Don't think I don't know it.
We all need therapy. My brother, his ex, me, Brad, Angelina......if only they gave group discounts. 'Cause I'd really like to hear what everyone has to say, frankly. God knows it couldn't hurt.

Bleh. Bleh. Bleh.

Tuesday, September 02, 2008

You're going to love this, if for nothing more than a laugh:

In an effort to get more hours, I offered to play "Biscuit" ( the puppy, from he children's book series*) on Thursday if they scheduled me a full shift . I don't know if they'll take me up on it, but I think this should show my willingness to play ball occasionally: I'm willing to get dressed up in a stupid dog suit and stand around letting children hug me and mill about at will. Plus, as I said to Annabelle, our Community Relations co-ordinator, "I can put it on my actor's resume". I didn't mention that I think it goes down as about the most humilating thing I've had to do for money since I've moved here, so I'm hoping Some Divine Force will take pity on me and throw some OTHER cash source my way ( I almost said "and throw me a bone", but that would have been awful.). Humility = good karma, right??? RIGHT!?!?!?

Oh yes. Bring it on. Bring it ON.

Oh, and additionally, I have had enough of the farking Jonas Brothers. I see them so often on the covers of things at work that I've started having little dreams about them at night. These dreams are hardly fit to describe since most of them are erotic, and I have no idea why. I have my suspicions, though.....It started after I noticed that kinda-homoerotic cover on Rolling Stone and thought, "That's kinda hot" before I even knew who it was. Then I was repulsed ('cause hello, they're BROTHERS!) and of course I had to read the article to find out why they were styled thusly ( answer: no particular reason, other than it looked kinda hot. I should have known better than to expect more). Obviously an enormous mistake on my part, all over the map, because it put it into my unconscious mind even MORE, and unfortunately, my dreaming mind doesn't know the difference between annoying barely-legal boys who sound like they need to play "This is Middle C" with their voice teacher, and grown-up men more appropriate for MY AGE ( and that I can respect? Hello?) who either don't sing at all or know how to sing already. ARRGHGUGHGH!!!

My life? Is a sitcom. I just wish I had the paychecks to go with it.
* no, I don't work for that bookselling company. Whaddya think I'm stupid? I deliberately picked a different link. Just for anonymity ( or semi-anonymity)'s sake. I've read enough articles about employers finding employees blogs to be any less discreet. Thank you.