I've broken my own heart so many times, I've stopped keeping track

Soooooo I got dumped. Again.
Gahhhh. If you can really even call it that. Three Dates does not a relationship make.

Boys are dumb. Really stupid frickin dumb.

I just dont understand how you can be with a girl, and spend time with her, and snuggle and kiss and do things, and then just not call! For over a week! And then when she finally gets a hold of you, after trying and trying, cuz all she wants you to do is man the fuck up and be honest, be all... Nah, not really. But you're a kickass chick, so go get 'em!

What the fuck! Fuck you, douchebag. Yes, I'm well aware I'm a "kickass chick", you moron. I'm fucking amazing. I'm smart, and fun, and funny, and talented, and interesting, and thoughtful... I'm a fucking delight!

And I'm frustrated. So frustrated. I'm making good choices. No more sleeping with people I've just met, no more drinking, living a "healthier lifestyle" and whatnot...

But seriously! I can't keep a guy around! Not when I give it away, not when I make him work for it...
UGH. I'm 25 years old. I know I've got plenty of time to grow up and be an adult. But there is so much I want to do, and see, and be, and I would really love someone to do and see it all with!

See, this is why I date women. Because at least they (mostly) are clear about what they want! Crazy, yes. But clear. And not so goddam stupid all the time. RAWR.

See there's a reason a good looking, well employed man of his age is still single. I don't know what it is, but it's probably because he's a dumbass.

Gahhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Rant rant rant.

My eyes adored you

I have boundary issues with people, romantically. Or maybe that's not fair to say. To have issues with boundaries, one must first have boundaries. But I dissapear into the person I love. I am the permeable membrane. If I love you, you can have everything. You can have my time, my devotion, my ass, my money, my family, my dog, my dog's money, my dog's time - everything. If I love you, I will carry for you all your pain, I will assume for you all your debts (in every definition of the word), I will protect you from your own insecurity, I will project upon you all sorts of good qualities that you have never actually cultivated in yourself, and I will buy Christmas presents for your entire family. I will give you the sun and the rain, and if they are not available, I will give you a sun check and a rain check. I will give you all this and more, until I get so exhausted and depleted that the only way I can recover my energy is by becoming infatuated with someone else.
I have fallen in love more times than I care to count with the highest potential of a person, rather than with the person themselves, and then I have hung on to the relationship for a long time (sometimes far too long) waiting for that person to ascend to their own greatness. Many times in romance I have been a victim of my own optimism.

I've broken my own heart so many times I've stopped keeping track.



How do I just let it go? And why the hell do I keep falling for unavailable people?!

And why is it always a friend? How do I make these friends? These wonderful, fantastic people, who have offered me friendship and platonic love. Who have not led me on, in any way. Who have not asked for my affection.

How do I keep doing this to myself?

Ugh. I'm such an idiot.

Procrastination

Singing the procrastination song... lala lalala lalalalala...

So, in theory, I should be writing a script right now...

But I'm just so tired.  I just don't have the energy.

I don't have the energy for much, lately...

I got up at 4:30 this morning, showered, went to work, worked, sat in the store meeting, while simultaneously helping the borrowed partners from another store navigate our store and fill things and prep things for them (all without a break, by the way. That's illegal. I'm a smoker, the law says you HAVE to give me a smoke break. And even if I didn't smoke, I was on the clock for five hours. I am legally entitled to a paid ten minute break, and an unpaid half-hour break.)
After work, I smoked, like... half a pack of cigarettes to compensate for my stress and hunger, hung out and got lunch with two co-workers I just adore! Went and spent money I shouldn't have on a pedicure (but, let's face it, I'm worth it.), drove home and tried to nap, but couldn't. Watched a really shitty episode of SNL, attempted to flirt with a guy I've been flirting with for the better part of a year, and now, I'm blogging.

That was my day. In theory, didn't do much. But I am exhausted. I've got a good iron count, I'm active, and (obviously from my last post) I'm not pregnant. I shouldn't be this tired! UGH.

I'm doing my best to give myself "me time", but even "me time" is exhausting. You know what I would really like? Pampering. I never want pampering. Never. It makes me feel bad. Like a total clod. A total, self-absorbed, selfish, useless to society clod.
But what I wouldn't give for a massage! And someone making me feel pretty and important and necessary.

Maybe that's my issue. I don't feel necessary. I work and teach and work and teach and I'm trying to get my acting shit together, but the universe is kinda working against me right now, and I've stopped drinking, meaning people have stopped inviting me to hang out, so my social life has seriously decreased, so I've become completely grating to those I am hanging out with because I'm totally wearing out my welcome, and for the love of god all I want if for someone to hold me and cuddle me and love me and tell me I'm pretty and worth it and fantastic, because my room mate is always busy, and she's not exactly the cuddly type, and I am so tired of coming home to an empty house.

Wahhhhhhhhhhhh

rant rant rant.

...maybe I'm PMSing?

And I sound just a little pathetic.

But seriously though. Cuddles. I need them. I am thisclose to hopping on craigslist or okcupid.

WHICH IS RIDICULOUS! Because I am FINE being single. I'm HAPPY when I'm single. I do NOT NEED someone to complete me! That's NONSENSE! But I would really like to settle down some day and have a family and my clock is TICKING SO LOUD I can hardly hear myself think!

Also, I watched Rock of Ages the other day, and that movie just really fucking SUCKED.

I am not the ghost you want of me

WARNING!
THIS POST MAY NOT BE APPROPRIATE FOR FAMILY MEMBERS DUE TO LOTS AND LOTS OF OVER SHARING

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
















... I miss sex.

Like, I really really really really really freaking miss sex.

Seriously.

I mean, yay, I working on becoming emotionally healthy, which is awesome. I have lots of issues regarding self worth tied up in my sexuality. I know where it all comes from. I crave sex because I crave intimacy, because my first few experiences with sexuality were negative, too early, or uncomfortable; and I found that through promiscuity I received more attention and happiness, for however short a period. If I was depressed, I went to the bar, flirted with a pretty lady, or cute guy, and wham-bam-thank you ma'am! And then I felt icky and depressed again. Granted, it was later...
Basically, when my pre-frontal cortex failed to make me happy, promiscuity rewarded me with the needed flood of dopamine. Kind of a "skank reflex" if you will. Now, I was never skanky... Okay, maybe I was, a little... But I blame my incredibly fragile emotional state.

Now, it's been... I'm gonna go ahead and say at least 6 months, although I think it's been longer. And I am dying. Not literally, but it does feel that way sometimes. I have a very healthy sex drive.  There is only so much that having some "special alone happy fun private time" can do for you.

And cuddling! Goddess above, I miss cuddling. Curling up with someone and falling asleep... Waking up with the knowledge that someone is next to you... Spooning... I would give my left hand for some spooning...
Miss it. So much.

But I'm emotionally healthy. Woo.

Also, I think that... since I gave up drinking...I've become really really boring.

That, or my friends are idiots.


I've been listening to three songs on repeat for pretty much the last month and a half.
They are fantastic. I highly recommend you checking them out.

First: Carry On by FUN

Second: Home by Phillip Phillips (Not a typo. That's actually his name. Way to go parents. ugh)

Third: The District Sleeps Alone Tonight by The Postal Service

Listen to these songs.
You will thank me.

Seriously.

Hold your head even higher as into the fire we go

Well, I did it. Another link in the chain. Last night I met my biological uncle and his family. (For privacy, and funzies, let's call them Dharma and Greg, because that T.V. show was awesome).
And it wasn't nearly as terrifying as I thought it would be!

Ok, so the first half hour (ok- hour), I was terrified, nervous, and nauseated. God, just walking up to the door...I think I got to the top step and was ready to turn back. No one even gave me a warning or checked that I was ready! Ok, maybe they did. But with all the blood rushing in my head, it's not like I was actively paying attention! I was just trying not to pass out! And then the door opened, and there they were.

Dharma, of course, was wonderful. Bright, and funny, and sweet, and warm, and gorgeous, and fantastic- just like I knew she'd be. Just as warm as she seemed though email and the blogosphere. Thank the Goddess.

And Greg... I think I stared at him for a good 5 minutes...God knows it took me longer to open my mouth and say anything that wasn't nonsensical. I've grown so used to not seeing my face in any of my relatives. I searched for years when I was younger, to find my face in my grandmother's, my aunt's, my dad's... all to no avail. But now... I see pieces of me. Here and there. Around the eyes, the cheekbones... There's a lot of me in BioGram as well. It's so crazy, so weird, so strange to see my face all around me.

When I first met BioGram, she showed my a picture of my Biological Mother pregnant with me. I think I grabbed it out of her hands, because that woman in the picture, that woman who I will never know, had my face. The whole damn thing. I wasn't looking at pieces... I was looking at me. I think I held that picture the rest of the hour or so we were there in that coffee shop. Every time I looked at it, my eyes filled with tears, and it hurt to see it more that it comforted or healed (although it did those things as well), but I just couldn't let it go; couldn't put it down.

So yes, Greg was awesome. Very frank, and funny, and honest. Very high energy, very talkative. There were several points during the evening he would say something and in my head I would think "oh thank god! oh thank god he's cool."  I had absolutely no idea what to expect, no idea what I was walking into. But the company was nice, and the food was amazing! and I had a nice time. A really, really nice time. I'd like to hang out with Greg once or twice on my own...or at least without my parents there. My parents are wonderful people, but I'm not nearly as open around them as I am by myself. Don't get my wrong! I adore my mother. I worship her! But there is a certain level of judgement that occurs whenever I open my mouth...
I think she's worried I'm going to say something scandalizing. Meh. I dunno... It's just an unspoken rule. There are some things I don't discuss with or around my folks. Like Karly. She and I dated for over a year, and my parent's won't talk about her. My mom freezes up and goes really quiet every time I mention her.

...Am I babbling? I'm babbling, aren't I. Sorry.

So, yes, dinner was good. I had a very nice time, after I stopped being terrified, and they were very nice people. And at some point I'm gonna grow a pair, and ask Greg if we can grab coffee or something. Just some shitty diner coffee in a dinky little diner (read- nuteral zone) and just... I dunno... get to know each other a bit. I don't know how much of an open book he is, and there's so much history that I don't know about... He said at one point that I look so much like his sister...and I know next to nothing about her. This woman who gave me life, gave me a chance; I know her name, her struggles...but little else.

Ugh... still with the babbling...

Ok, dinner was good. I didn't indulge in a flask or several shots before the journey up, so I stayed sober. The people were nice, the food was good, and I didn't pass-out, puke, or cry.

I'm calling it a win.

It's utterly exhausting to lose your own game

I don't want to be the girl who laughs the loudest, or the girl who never wants to be alone. I don't want to be that call at 4 o'clock in the morning because I'm the only one you know in the world that won't be home.

But oh, the sun is blinding. I stayed up again. Oh, I am finding that's not the way I want my story to end.

I don't want to be the girl who has to fill the silence. The quiet scares me because it screams the truth. Please don't tell me that we had that conversation. I won't remember, save your breath, so what's the use?

But oh, the night is calling... and it whispers to me softly "come and play!"
Oh, I am falling. And if I let myself go I'm the only one to blame.

When it's good, then it's good, and it's so good until it goes bad, until you're trying to find the you that you once had. I have heard myself cry, "never again!" Broken down in agony just trying to find a friend.

I'm safe up high; nothing can touch me. But why do I feel this party's over?
No pain inside, it's like perfection.
So how do I feel this good sober?
I'm coming down, coming down, coming down, spinning round, spinning round, spinning round...
Looking for myself.

I've been sober for 6 days. This is a big deal for me.
After lengthy discussion with my room mate, and lots of thinking, we've declared the apartment a booze-free zone. I did a nice, small little ritual of pouring out the vodka  in the freezer, and a small cleansing spell for the apartment. Room mate has made the beer disappear, and we have no wine, so I think we've been successful. I've been substituting tea when out, and that seems to be working well, although there are not enough words in the English language do describe how desperately I want to wrap my lips around a sweet, cold, bottle of beer.  I've talked to a few friends about going sober, and most of them are really supportive. It's been harder with the friends I tend to party with. Many of them don't seem to understand. I've started using the phrase "for a while" instead of "going sober", and many of them seem to be more comfortable with that. But as much as I want it to be just "for a while", I don't think it can be. There's a history of alcoholism in my family, and I am most definitely an alcoholic. I didn't start drinking heavily until I was 22, and I pretty much didn't stop until a few days ago. I didn't drink to excess, in the sense that I wouldn't drink to get drunk, but I drank constantly; i.e. I drank a few drinks almost every night. Or afternoon. Or if I was out with people. I started suspecting that I was overdoing it, and so I set rules. I had two: Never drink alone, and Never when I'm working. Which worked really well for a while. Until I went to Wisconsin. And shot all my progress to hell. And I gained ten pounds back. Ugh! So after drinking more, and more, and more, and catching myself popping a beer at ten in the morning on my day off alone, I figured I might have a problem. I've got a small support system, and I'm looking at AA like options as well. (AA is probably not my best choice, as I REALLY don't like platitudes, and I kinda want to rip my eyes out whenever I read the serenity prayer. And frankly, after reading a few pamphlets, AA sounds startlingly like a cult.)
But yes. Working of being sober. Once choice at a time.
Hello, my name is Kate, and I'm an alcoholic

Turn the other cheek and have positivity

I am a beacon of positivity, I am a beacon of positivity, I am a beacon of positivity.
I'm pretty and bright, I'm a shiny white light.
I am a beacon of positivity.
Nobody dies tonight.
I breathe and count to ten and I love my fellow men.
I am dignified, I can let it slide; I am in a state of frickin zen.
I don't feel like slinging mud, I don't feel like drawing blood.
I will not attack, I will just unpack, and pull this knife right out of my back.
And breathe.
I'm on a summer lake, and I bend, I do not break.
She's an evil snake and her pearls are fake, but her worthless life's not mine to take.
We don't hit her good and hard, we don't leave her badly scarred,
We don't hit that tramp with this lava lamp and bury her in Harvard Yard.
No negativity is allowed, I am a white fluffy cloud,
A cuddly warm teddy bear, a unicorn...
Hell, I don't care.
I will not plan any plot, I don't want anyone shot,
Run over until she's just a flat wet spot in a parking lot...
No I do not.
I am a beacon of positivity.
What was I speaking of? Positivity.
Positively reeking of positivity.
Nobody dies tonight.