TGIF #2
...though I feel very crabby today. I know it's cuz I'm not getting what I want, but truthfully, I'm sort of undecided as to what *exactly* I want anyhow, which makes things confusing. And I am unfortunately the type who tends to "back into" what I *do* want, by methodically eliminating the things I *don't* want. Which can be very time-consuming, since I have to weigh every option a million times before I keep it or ditch it. At the other end of the spectrum I'm a very "all-or-nothing" type chick, so the "do I keep it/do I ditch it?" process is very painful for me. It's completely opposite to the way I need things to be, and so the whole thing makes me restless.
Sucks to be me.
For a long time I was content to be a free agent, but recently I've begun to wonder if I'm really OK with that, or if I had just become used to it. There's things I miss... companionship, a movie date, somebody to care about, someone who actually cares about *me*, "inside jokes", being able to call up someone who understands why I care that somebody I don't know watched her baby die right in front of her eyes, after losing her husband in Iraq while she was pregnant. (I cried.) Then of course there's sex, although to me there is such a strong association between sex and drama that it will take a lot of patience and honesty for me to get past that. And I find that 90% of men are neither patient nor honest. (Yeah, OK buddy, you disagree? Show me.) The remaining 2% have long since been taken, and the other 8% are gay and completely useless to me.
So I don't miss the drama. I don't miss being accountable to someone. I don't miss trying to split my time between a relationship, my friends, my family. I really don't miss trying to decide who's family you'll spend Thanksgiving with (why, mine of course. I like our food 200 times better than most other peoples and I love hanging out with my crazy family). I don't miss someone hogging the bed or the blankets or sweating up my pillowcases. Or complaining about the curtains around my bed. I damn sure don't miss how men seemed to think you're supposed to clean up behind them. I don't miss folding large jeans or being stuck with all the laundry. I don't miss the power struggle.
I'm not sure if I ever want to be married again, though I admire the hell out of my parents for staying married (through thin and thinner) for FORTY-FIVE YEARS. (Damn, that's a long time. I don't know if I'd even like somebody that long. Let alone love.) I'm not even sure I want anybody to move in with me, let alone spend an entire night. Which is funny, because at one point I was so used to having someone sleep with me that it was one of the hardest parts about being single. Now, even the Sun has to plead to sleep in the bed with me, and that only happens when I detect he's really stressed about something or has had a particularly bad dream. I could see myself having another baby though (but I figure if that's going to happen I have about 3 years tops before it gets to be dicey. I DON'T want to be a parent to a teenaged girl when I'm 60.). But I damn sure won't do that alone ever again.... so then that brings up the whole "living together/married" question again. See what I mean? And when I look at the above list I do note that what I *don't* want far outweighs what I *do* want. Yet.... there's "that thing...." that pull. That need to be paired.
*sigh*.
In the meantime, I shall now recite my favorite poem:
Spring has sprung
The grass has riz
Tell me where the mens dem is
I intend to park my Sun at the Moon's house (who's dad and my future band-mate is having some success at playing "single-dad" while my friend, the Moon's mom--hereinafter referred to as "Shoefly" after her fetish--is spending her way through Italy for 10 days) tomorrow night. And me and my bottle of Corazon Anejo Tequila are traveling downtown to help my Mexican/Cherokee/Jewish friend celebrate her 28(9?)th birthday. Though not too much celebrating since I do have things to do on Sunday. And then I'll take life from there...
Sucks to be me.
For a long time I was content to be a free agent, but recently I've begun to wonder if I'm really OK with that, or if I had just become used to it. There's things I miss... companionship, a movie date, somebody to care about, someone who actually cares about *me*, "inside jokes", being able to call up someone who understands why I care that somebody I don't know watched her baby die right in front of her eyes, after losing her husband in Iraq while she was pregnant. (I cried.) Then of course there's sex, although to me there is such a strong association between sex and drama that it will take a lot of patience and honesty for me to get past that. And I find that 90% of men are neither patient nor honest. (Yeah, OK buddy, you disagree? Show me.) The remaining 2% have long since been taken, and the other 8% are gay and completely useless to me.
So I don't miss the drama. I don't miss being accountable to someone. I don't miss trying to split my time between a relationship, my friends, my family. I really don't miss trying to decide who's family you'll spend Thanksgiving with (why, mine of course. I like our food 200 times better than most other peoples and I love hanging out with my crazy family). I don't miss someone hogging the bed or the blankets or sweating up my pillowcases. Or complaining about the curtains around my bed. I damn sure don't miss how men seemed to think you're supposed to clean up behind them. I don't miss folding large jeans or being stuck with all the laundry. I don't miss the power struggle.
I'm not sure if I ever want to be married again, though I admire the hell out of my parents for staying married (through thin and thinner) for FORTY-FIVE YEARS. (Damn, that's a long time. I don't know if I'd even like somebody that long. Let alone love.) I'm not even sure I want anybody to move in with me, let alone spend an entire night. Which is funny, because at one point I was so used to having someone sleep with me that it was one of the hardest parts about being single. Now, even the Sun has to plead to sleep in the bed with me, and that only happens when I detect he's really stressed about something or has had a particularly bad dream. I could see myself having another baby though (but I figure if that's going to happen I have about 3 years tops before it gets to be dicey. I DON'T want to be a parent to a teenaged girl when I'm 60.). But I damn sure won't do that alone ever again.... so then that brings up the whole "living together/married" question again. See what I mean? And when I look at the above list I do note that what I *don't* want far outweighs what I *do* want. Yet.... there's "that thing...." that pull. That need to be paired.
*sigh*.
In the meantime, I shall now recite my favorite poem:
Spring has sprung
The grass has riz
Tell me where the mens dem is
I intend to park my Sun at the Moon's house (who's dad and my future band-mate is having some success at playing "single-dad" while my friend, the Moon's mom--hereinafter referred to as "Shoefly" after her fetish--is spending her way through Italy for 10 days) tomorrow night. And me and my bottle of Corazon Anejo Tequila are traveling downtown to help my Mexican/Cherokee/Jewish friend celebrate her 28(9?)th birthday. Though not too much celebrating since I do have things to do on Sunday. And then I'll take life from there...
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