Crushed

It was ten years ago that I was having a drink with a friend at a local watering hole when I saw him for the first time. What was that! we both exclaimed simultaneously. He was blond and blue eyed and beautiful. Someone introduced us. It wasn't long before we realized that we had both grown up in the same small town, knew all the same people, had been born only four days apart, but had never even heard of each other. I remember thinking that was impossible, everyone knew me. He said the same about himself.

He was charming, sweet, and perfect. He owned his own business. His own home. Drove a truck. Had a dog. He was an everyman, and exactly the kind of guy a girl is looking for, even when she didn't know she was looking. My beeper went off twice while talking to him, and he figured rightly that I was seeing someone else. He left without asking for my number.

Over the years we would run into each other on a regular basis. Sometimes he would be happy to see me, so much so that I would crush on him all over again. We would really talk to each other, telling each other things so personal that it was surprising to both of us. Other times it was as if he didn't even know me. I, of course, took this personally. Did I offend him the last time I saw him? Was he embarrassed by how much he had revealed about himself to me? Was he annoyed that our timing always seemed to be off? I had let him know my relationship was over. Had I read all the signals wrong? Was all of this in my head?

Even when I moved away he was in the back of my mind. Unfinished business. The wondering of what might have been. I would jokingly ask my friends back home if they had seen "my future husband" lately. When I would come home for visits I would inevitably run into him, and each time my heart would flutter. There was still something there. I knew he had a serious girlfriend, but always in the back of my mind there was that thought that we were not really ... done with each other... that maybe we would even end up together. He represented everything I was looking for: stable, kind, self-made, ambitious, attractive, easy going, fun. I was willing to wait for him to find his way to me.

Last night while having a drink with a friend (different friend, different bar) we got onto the topic of crushes. She pointed out a guy she had been crushing on for ten years, and I confessed my ten year crush as well. She asked who he was, and I told her. Her mouth dropped open. She is friends with his girlfriend.

Shit! I thought. I never should have said anything.

There's someone you should know about him, she told me.

Oh no, I thought, no no no. He's getting married. It's done. I missed my window - again. I braced myself for the news.

He's a fucking mess. On major medications - and he doesn't always take them when he is supposed to. Bipolar, manic depressive, serious serious issues. She has her hands full with him. She doesn't know what he's going to be like from one day to the next. And she is a total enabler- her last boyfriend was an alcoholic and drug addict. It's no wonder they are together, they are perfect for each other.

So much explained in a few short sentences. Ten years of seeing things one way suddenly wiped clean to expose a new and stunning truth. I had never seen the real picture. I had never seen the real him.

This was not the ending I had expected.

Hide in Plain Site

No, I haven't had a hit called on me. And no, I'm not hiding out from the authorities ... uh, no. But lately I have been wanting a little bit more anonymity on my blog, and having my name plastered on the URL, the title, and the profile name did not offer much in the way of privacy. Maybe it's the whole moving back to the tiny hometown thing - I feel much more exposed - and not in the good way. And so I realized it was time to change. I had several choices on how to make this change which entailed hours of soul searching and ice cream consumption. I hope you can appreciate my agony.

Choice 1: Delete my blog and start all over.
This choice sucked. I like my blog. I like most of my posts. Deleting seemed too much like killing a small child to me - something I would never do unless there were copious amounts of whining involved. Which of course there was. My blog was a bitch. But killing her seemed slightly excessive.

Choice 2: Go private.
This would put an end to my Keywords and Asshats posts. Never.

Choice 3: Stop blogging completely.
Too much like Choice 1. Maybe not killing, but definitely abandoning. Not an option.

Choice 4: Stop obsessing over minor things. Leave things as they are.
Stop. Obsessing.
I'm laughing so hard at this one I've got a cramp.

Choice 5: Move blog to a new URL.
Done. I realize that my name is still all over this blog, but nobody reads archives anyway. Well, except for the perverts looking for accidental flashing. Even with that, changing the name and address will afford me a bit more privacy from local eyes, and that's all I'm really looking for.

I'll leave a link for a while on my old blog so that my few readers will be able to find me - and so the porn spammers don't infiltrate my old beloved URL. Eventually I'll just leave it be, an empty shell on the broken highway of blogging dreams. Now all I can ask is that the people who have been reading will migrate on over here with me, change my name/URL on their blogrolls, and send large amounts of money to a numbered account in the Caymans.

It was worth a shot.

Too Much on My Plate

Moving. End of the school year. Masses of paperwork. New teaching licenses. Red Tape. Packing my classroom. Packing my apartment. Uprooting my whole life. Generally. Freaking. Out.

All this, plus a stomach bug that has caused me to spend more time in the bathroom than the bedroom for the last three nights. If I could run on the gas gurgling around in my belly, I'd be just fine. By the way, did you know that chewable Pepto-Bismol tablets taste just like NECCO wafers?

I'll post something mildly interesting soon. At least I'll try. Right now I'd give up sex with Gerard Butler for a good night's sleep.

OK that's a lie. But I am really very tired.

Exciting Blogger News!

Well, exciting to me anyway.

First of all, I am finally on new Blogger. I don't know why it took so long for me to be able to switch over. Maybe Blogger was busy enjoying all of my previous work, you know - getting to know me - before inviting me over to his place. Or it's possible that Blogger is a naughty little tease who was purposely trying to prolong the agony of anticipation. Then again, it could just be that Blogger sucks. You decide. In any event, I'm on new Blogger! I admit I was starting to feel left out, what with all my blog buddies moving on without me to their new digs and leaving me behind like old moldy furniture.

Second, I have been honored with an award! Actually no, my blog has been honored with an award. No that's not right either. One of my posts has been honored with an award. Not really an award, more like a special mention on another blog that specially mentions other blog posts...which is very nice even though I really didn't get an actual award or anything. OK I did get this very pretty picture to put on my blog. That's an award ...of sorts.

Shut up.

To be honest, I'm extremely flattered. I was mentioned on a new blog called The Rising Blogger, In Search of The Rising Blogger. Are you one? Judd, the lovely gentleman who started this blog and emailed me to inform me of my recent selection, searches the blog world for worthy posts to talk about on his site. He said very nice things about me in his post, and I would like to take this opportunity to say thank you. I won't ask anything about Judd's personal life - like if he's single and if he likes pina coladas - because I feel it's important to maintain my integrity. The last time I got singled out for my blog work, I spent the better part of an hour flirting chatting with a boy who was young enough to be my...oldest brother's son... actually even my youngest brother's son. Oh I am so going to hell. Not that it was a bad experience, it was quite nice actually. But I'm really too old mature to be flirting chatting with college boys. Anyway, here is the direct link to the post about me. Thank you again, Judd. I'll be sure to link you up and check out your site often!

Third...

There is no third. There is no spoon. Here's a cute picture.

My Relationship Destiny

...according to Tickle.

Wild thing, you make our hearts sing. Daring and headstrong, you know that the world is full of all kinds of adventures and possibilities, and you want to try as many of them as possible. Whether you've already met the action hero who's bold enough to join you on your travels, or are still looking for a soul brave enough, you're sure to enjoy the search.

A risk taker by nature, you're not afraid to put yourself on the line, whether you're scaling mountains or falling in love on the first date. Sure, that means you'll get a few bumps and bruises along the way, but for a courageous spirit like you, that's part of the fun. How romantic!

I think this is Tickle's nice way of saying, "Get used to being alone, slut. No wedding bells for you."

Almost Famous

So a few weeks ago I received an email requesting an interview for The Blog Reader. Yes, you read that right. Someone actually wanted an interview. With me. To talk about blogging. Fuck, the world is a wonderful place. Of course I happily agreed, and two days later young Justin called me at the designated time to talk about ME.

Poor guy didn't know what he was in for. We wound up talking on the phone for well over an hour, and I was able to learn quite a bit about my new friend. Of course he didn't mention in his (well-written) article my amazing ability to get people to talk about themselves while elusively avoiding any personal questions about myself. In fact, he didn't even mention the laughter, the tears, the bonding! Harumph! Actually, I'm impressed he was able to cull anything at all out of my incessant rambling. In short, I'm a lousy interview. But a fabulous conversationalist!

Anyway, here it is: My Interview. Please click and read. And comment. Show Justin some love. Thank you.

P. S. I have no recollection of ever uttering the name Murgatroid.

Welcome To My Meltdown

I have no idea what to write. My head is swimming in a pool of fog. I don't remember ever being this tired before...like if I went to bed and didn't set my alarm I might not wake up until next week. Seeing straight is a concept, not a reality. My feet are numb. The fear gripping my chest is like a vise. Is this what it is like to have a complete and total meltdown?

The last couple of weeks I have spent a great deal of my former blogging time with my mother. She has numerous health issues at the moment, the worst of which is a disc pressing down on the nerves of her spine. It's difficult for her to do the simplest of things without mind blowing pain. I try to do as much as possible for her, but it never seems to be enough - especially to my brothers. But I digress - and they can fuck themselves.

Yesterday she had surgery to help fix her back problem. I spent 12 hours at the hospital. Have you ever noticed that it is far more exhausting to sit in a hospital for 12 hours than to say....bike for 100 miles? It's true. I've done both. I looked like hell when I was there due to stress and lack of sleep, which sucked since the doctor was kind of hot. Not that I care about meeting a doctor when my mom is in pain. I don't. If I did I'd have made an effort. He barely looked at my face anyway - he kept staring at my feet. Maybe he liked my toe ring and French pedicure. I'm making no sense. I know this. Dr. Hot said he was pleased with the results. She was fine after the surgery, more lucid than I am right now. Everything seemed great.

Last night she spiked a fever of 102.

Today she barely knew I was there.

I'm afraid to go to sleep tonight. If I go to sleep tonight something will happen to her. I just know it. If I stay up, she'll be ok. So I just need to stay awake. Even if I am so tired I can't see straight. I need to make coffee. Coffee will get us through this.

I'm making no sense. I know this.