Copyright 2003 - 2013 Less Than Usless Nothing may be reproduced or otherwise stolen without express written permission & a promise signed by you in blood. Don't worry, when you come to steal something AFTER you get permission, I'll turn my back so you'll feel dirty & sneaky.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Sometimes the best laid plans do not go as intended. At all.
Vacation was wonderful as I expected. It also made me realize a few things. One I already knew. I have to get the fuck out of Vegas for good. I have a year to plan. Still have to figure out where I am going (actually I have a fairly solid idea), the logistics of moving by myself, squirreling away the cash and getting my affairs in order.
Luckily I got to hang out with Jeb every day I was there. He can be a jackoff, but I love him. He's the best. He even spent his entire Saturday with me. I am moderately concerned with his enthusiasm about taking me to Disneyland, but I shall overlook that. He got me on roller coasters. No one does that.The amount of trust I place in that man scares me. At the same time I know he isn't going to let anything hurt me. He's terribly protective & I like that. A lot. No one other than my mother has been protective of me.
Leaving was way more difficult than I anticipated. I spent the bulk of my day yesterday in tears. Texts from someone on a completely random & unrelated subject distracted me enough to regain my composure. However, when Jeb dropped me off at the airport I almost lost it again. Yeah, I like Jeb a little too much. I'd do just about anything for him & I can't say that for 99.8% of the population.
In fact, I am still having "allergy" issues today. Yeah, that's the term Jeb used to make me aware my emo was showing the other night at dinner. Well, that's what I'd like to think anyway. He is a guy, maybe he really does think it was allergies.
Yeah, a lot more happened than Disneyland, but it will have to wait. You're crushed I'm sure.
This entry has been started 347 times. My head is a jumble.
Let's go back to last week for a moment. That's kind of when all this started. Well, that might not be true. Maybe it is more accurate to state that at that point most of this shit started to boil over. Again.
Have you ever met someone and when you have had physical contact with them there was something like an electric jolt? Not static electricity. There is a difference and if you have ever experienced this you know exactly what I am talking about. I have had it happen with exactly three individuals in my life. I can name them and tell you the precise moment it occurred.
The latest time was last week, but it wasn't the first time with that individual. None the less I was taken aback when it did happen. You also know when it happens because you get that look from the other individual involved. You are just going to have to trust me that you will know the look. If you are getting it from me it will look like I am going to piss myself and pass out. Really.
Anyway, back to the guy. I don't know much about him. I met him one other time, shook his hand, got the look & then we carried on a conversation like we had known each other forever. Well, quite by accident I saw him again last week. He did all the talking as I was so verklempt I couldn't get anything out. As he was leaving he put his arm around me. According to my friend I looked like I was going to pass out. Nice. I made an ass out of myself. I couldn't talk AND looked like I was going to fall down into a crumple. These are true FML worthy moments.
I relayed the entire thing to Jeb. He was amazed by the fact that I couldn't say anything to the guy. According to him I must be "smitten" if I couldn't talk. Bah! I don't need this. I have been instructed by Jeb to talk to him again at all costs. Apparently I have too much of a wall up. I have to let it down and this is, supposedly, as good a time as any to do it. That whole prospect scares the shit out of me. Let me wall down? Are you fucking insane?!? Every time I do that I am the one that ends up getting fucked over. At the same time I would like to know what could happen.
There are days like today when I wonder if all of this shit is really worth it. I mean, think about it, in the end what do you really have? Nothing. If you are lucky there are a few people hanging around because they think you are a decent human being. The rest think you are a douche no matter what you do for them.
I've spent the last year working on myself. Trying to open up a little. Trying to be more friendly, more sociable. I've lost a shit ton of weight. I've gotten rid of a terribly bad relationship. All it has gotten me is kicked in my non-existent balls. The only good thing to come out of all of this is my friendship with Jeb. Maybe that is all I am suppose to get from it. I don't know.
I'm tired of the backstabbing and the teenage bullshit. We are fucking adults. Why do people have to act like that? I just don't fucking get it.
Oh, yeah, I soooo should have slept with the Canadian from the other night. Just on principle.
I write emails all the time & never send them. I call it talking to my imaginary friends only the people I write them to are, in theory, actual friends. I just don't trust anyone enough to let them in on these things. I tried not long ago. Said something I felt to someone and apparently freaked them out. So, yeah, back to writing and not sending. They'd make a decent book some day.
While hanging out at a rock show the other night I had a terribly, for me, surreal experience. Standing at the back, chatting with a friend some guy starts talking to me. Not completely unusual as I'm one of those "known" individuals so strangers ask me questions all the time. No big.
This guy though.... damn. He was good looking. Not my normal type (he was maybe 5'7", blonde, light blue). Yes, I have a type, we all do, but I will get to that in a bit. Right now, Mr. Hot Canadian. Yeah, Canadian. Anyway, he decides I am his new best friend & groping post. That was way weird for me as guys rarely, and I do mean rarely, ever even talk to me much less have their mitts all over me. We talked a bit & at the end of the night he gave me his number. Yeah, I'll never use it.
So back to types. I have one, but I am a little backward with it. Looks, for me, become secondary. But in the looks department height is the first thing that gets me for the most part. Six foot plus is my usual, generally 6'2" to 6'4". Normally I'm in the market for vampire white, but I am finding that tan works as well. The dark hair, light eyes combo is my norm, but the last few guys I have actually interacted with were all blonde, blue. I'm not sure if my tastes are changing or if I am desperate, for lack of a better word. Maybe those are one in the same. Who knows.
At any rate none of that matters if the guys is dumb as a brick. Intelligence is key for me. Yes, I know that looks play a part. We are visual beings after all. If we weren't I wouldn't have so many fucking self image issues. Anyway. And they can't just be book smart, they have to be creative. I tend to lean towards musically creative on top of that. Damn, I'm a picky bitch. Such is life, but I want what I want. I settled once, not going to do it again. About the only thing I am willing to compromise on would be the height.
So, if you happen to know any 6'2"+, smart, creative men that aren't bad looking and are single, let me know. I'm always in the market for someone to hang with. Oh, they also need to be the aggressor in the whole thing because if they aren't, it will never happen. I am entirely too shy.
Music has been a huge part of my life for as long as I can remember. When I was a kid I had a KISS poster on my wall. I listened to the Rolling Stones, Jethro Tull, Queen, Charlie Daniels, Hank Williams, Gordon Lightfoot, Janis Joplin & David Bowie among others. My Mom always encouraged my love of music & especially my fascination with Bowie.Yeah, my mom rocked & still does.
Since I broke off the relationship/engagement with the Bastard I have found myself reverting to music much more again. I have a tendency to avoid dealing with my problems because, you know, I hate talking to people. Eventually the voices will work it all out. I just sit back & listen to the music. It works for me.
Lately I have been terribly wound up. I really want to punch random people for no apparent reason. Jeb has suggested a physical hobby such as kick boxing. He's right, but I'm cheap & hate people. Then there is that whole I get embarrassed at the drop of a hat thing. No, don't ask. At any rate, I have come to find that two voices keep me rather calm. I have determined that it is, in fact, the vocals & not the music as they are two completely different types of music.
One I knew had this effect on me. I found out quite by accident a few years ago on a flight to New Orleans. I'm not really fond of flying in the first place & get a bit ancy when I do have to fly. Right after take off I hit the music device & put this album on repeat. Within 30 minutes I was right as rain & fell asleep at some point.
Lately I have been using this to my advantage. I can turn either of these artists on & if I concentrate on just the vocal portions I calm down within 10 minutes. So, at work, I pop it on the 'ol portable music device & walk around the building a couple of times. I have to be careful & not have either on when I go to sleep however as both induce some fucked up dreams of monumental proportions. Apparently they stimulate the "creative" portion of the grey matter as well.
What I don't get is why these two vocalists in particular? Why it doesn't work with all vocals? I would think that the concentrating on the one thing is what calms me down. I am thinking about that & nothing else, but that isn't the case. I've tried it with other music. It seems to be just these two so far. It is quite perplexing. Even better, when I talk to these two individuals in person, their speaking voices aren't particularly soothing to me. Yes, I know them both. Maybe that has something to do with it.
Oh! I know! Maybe I really am some genetic freak. A mental mutant if you will. I know I am different than the general population.
In 30 days I get to get away from the hell that is Vegas for five full days. I'm so happy I could shit myself. Really.
Jeb and I have been discussing what I would like to do while I am there. Now, let me give you a bit of a back story on good 'ol Jeb. Last time I was in town he had all these grand plans. We were going to go here and there because I had to have fun for my first time in that state. Yeah, none of that happened. We went out drinking two nights and that was that. He had something come up and couldn't spend as much time with me as he wanted. Whatever.
The next week I get a text. Something to the effect of, "I would have totally slept with you, but..." What. The. Fuck. He went on a camping trip the week before I arrived. Apparently he decided to get back with an ex during that camping trip. Mind you he was texting me THE ENTIRE weekend. But he couldn't "do anything" with me because it wouldn't have been fair to her. So, let me get this straight, you thought about nailing me, but you had a sudden attack of morals & couldn't. I applaud your honesty Jeb, but man the fuck up. There was absolutely no reason he couldn't have told me while I was sitting there with him. That is what pissed me off.
I adore Jeb & would do absolutely anything for him. We are essentially the same person. Our attitudes are identical. Our sense of humor is the same. We differ on some stuff, but it is really scary. But even with that I know what to expect from him. I'm fine with that as long as I know where I stand. I always have to know where I stand.
So tentative plans have been made and I am counting on none of them. He doesn't have a good track record. He left me hanging the last time I was out there and he didn't make it out here for my birthday. I'm OK with all that, but it doesn't give me much hope for hanging out with him all that much when I am there. That being said, I have an agenda of crap I want to go do while I am there. The best part? I can go do it all on my own with the help of public transportation.
Translation: I'm going on vacation for me. If Jeb wants to hang out with me, that's fine, but I am not counting on it or expecting it. I need the time away from here to think for myself. I need the time away from people telling me what is best for my life. At the same time, I'm terrified of being by myself. There's a little Zombie nugget for you. Maybe I'll go into ti more later.
You are not entitled. You are not special. You are not unique with your douchewear. You, my dear, are an asshole. Simple as that.
I've dealt with people like you for a really long time. As such, my asshole radar is probably in better working order than my gaydar. Needless to say, I can identify you before you ever make it into my personal space. You come around with a chip on your shoulder and I have the match ready.
Do you really think that demanding anything from me is going to get you somewhere? I really don't give a fuck who you say you know. I certainly don't give a fuck about who you are going to call to "make my life miserable." Why? Because I know you are talking out your ass. That's why. If you have to throw that shit around then I know you are lying. Plain and simple.
Oh, by the way, you do not intimidate me because you are male. You might have a cock, but I guarantee you are a bigger pussy than I will ever be. In fact, you really do look like the type of guy that would kick another guy in the dick during a fight. Even I wouldn't do that unless my life was in danger and I am a chick. Should you care to test me on this I will be more than happy to demonstrate.
So please, when you are ready to take a nap on my office floor, do come visit again.