Is it a defense mechanism to see the flaws in the product you own? Is it in your best intrest to take another look? You may have thought you inspected it carefully at the store and found its imperfections charming, but now, at home, it looks different. Whatever it is that you are looking at is not what you expected and you want to return it but it's too unique a find to throw back into the pool.
Is being in a relationship with all the trimmings worth the hassle once uncovering buried treasure left underground for a reason? What do you do with gold that's cursed?
K astounded me with her need to research everyone via net. She discovered too much out of her comfort zone, but it seemed to be a drug. I remember thinking how much I wouldn't want to know, because the further you dig the more dirt you'll find. The Laws of Attraction is a motherfucker.
Curiosity got the better of me and I am being punished accordingly.
. . . and exhausted and cranky and selfish and I hate everyone today.
Having a vagina sucks.
There's something to say about a guy who likes to put his girl on display. Just yesterday I left for work in a charcoal mini, black boots, black tights, and a black satin blouse. He not only helped me pick out the outfit but he also paid for it (minus the boots and tights). I got the usual hoots and hollers and some stalker action. It was an eventful day in the clothes of a hooker.
Walking down the sidewalk together one evening a random dude with dreadlocks yelled at him with a grin: "Aren't you the lucky rascal, you!" We laughed about it and I still bring it up from time to time as a joke, but he never once denied it's validity. It's a good feeling to feel like one half of a relationship. There are moments where one feels more like a tumor than another half. Luckily neither one of us can claim to feel this way. He's the smarter, older, man dating a fun twenty-something. Even though our relationship isn't as shallow as I've just described it's easy for everyone to see it that way. There is a significant age gap. And J said it best when she called me his "little red Corvette."
But, hey, I'll take it. I'm going to embrace my youth while the gettin' is good.
. . . good thing I have a good personality too or else I'd be screwed.
My fingers are raw from all of the peeling my skin has been going through, which sucks when there's a ton of nerve endings there. I have no idea if it's the dry air or a natural defect but, me no likey.
Now that the random thought is out of the way we can get down to business.
It's become clear to me the shift in a relationship. What was once a friendship is now a 'people who just know each other' situation. This is hard to explain but I'll attempt it no less: A friendship in which you would share intimate, lengthy, details of your life with another suddenly becomes stale and fractured to the point where you downgrade them to text messaged conversations (an empty attempt at mending fences). Something cataclismisc (but not quite traumatizing) happened; the broken relationship is no one's fault but neither wants to fix it either. It is, in fact, a limbo. You don't count these people out so you'll check on them every once in a while to see if they're alive for an opportunity to exploit them. You can stand the sight of them and yet you wouldn't think it necessary on a regular basis. Maybe they're on your Christmas card mailing list, but so is everyone else, and hey, you don't mind pretending you give a damn. You just know they exist and that's about as far as you care to go.
So what do you do about this? Why put up a facade? Because it doesn't take much effort to do so and you never know when they'll come in handy. It's like one of those things you put in a shoebox under your bed you pleasantly stumble on to one day while you're cleaning. It's a "Huh, I almost forgot about this thing . . ." epiphany.
And hey, if you don't need it you know exactly where to put it: in the "just in case" pile.
Insurance policies, people . . . good to have.
I just have to get through the workday and then it's smooth sailing. I have no prior commitments (except for K) and that makes me really excited. He's going to be working most of the weekend because he has a deadline on Monday.
Is it 5 yet?
Just curious.
I am still unpacking. I have a few things to get before I can finish. So it seems that regardless of how little things I think I own it doesn't change the fact that I still have a lot of shit to put away.
My new space is humble, to say the most, but it's mine and the door has a lock only I have a key to and that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy like. One perk of my new room is it's proximity to the job. No, I don't like my job that much to want to be nearer to it, but it does mean I get a few extra minutes of sleep, and that's enough of a psyche out to please me. I have to get used to a few things, such as having to travel outside of my building to do my laundry or figuring out the fucking front door that only wants to open for Q (smug bastard).
Hopefully by next weekend I'll be all sorted out and enjoying the apartment more. You have no idea how excited I am to decorate. It's scary.
Later, kiddies!
