Take-out I Craved Most During Lent

So I gave up take-out/fast food during Lent. My whole rule was that if someone did not specifically ask me out, I would go home and make food. Which wasn’t even that bad, I mean, I ended up eating at Chilis, Carinos, Mexican joints, and even eating Tai food at some point during the month of March, so it wasn’t all Ramen and boloney. But some days, especially after work, when the LAST thing I wanted to do was go home and make food for dinner AND lunch the next day. Here’s what I missed most:
-P I Z Z A! (‘specially Gattis)
- Chinese takeout (it's perfect b/c you always have enough to fill you up, then take leftovers for lunch the next day; two birds w/one stone!)
- Burgers (and no fries either!)

Secrets

I visit Postsecret.com every Sunday. I love the concept, and only wish I was artistic enough to create my own. Some of those I've conceptualized, but never sent:
1. When I was younger I'd pretend I was on "The Real World" and would "soliliquize" my life. (I remember the first season in NY!)
2. I wish I did not care so much.
3. I would never make my child feel as unimportant as my parents made me feel.

I've seen many of the secrets, and many have touched my heart in a deep and personal way. I think that we go through life in a series of stages; things that once were so very important are not so important to me now. Today, this is my secret.

Things I’d Do in a Month if Money & Time Were No Object

All the items listed above
Visit Gitte in Germany for a week
Travel to Ireland for 7 days
Travel to Spain for 5 days
Visit all friends to spread the wealth

Things I Regret

Not Trusting the Love of:
-C
-E
-J
-E
-S

Not hitting on Clint Decker and Carlos Garza in college

Trusting Carl D.

Not taking enough risks (parents/career)

Not trying harder

Things I'd Do in a Day If Time & Money Were of No Consequence

Wake up early for my:
-Facial
-Manicure
-Pedicure
-Massage (upper body only)
Drive to the nearest mall and get:
-FYEye Eyesdow Base
-Benefit Cheek Tint
-Cargo Blush
Drop off my car to the Volvo Dealership to:
-Get my car tuned up
-Get three new rims (for my car!)
Meanwhile.... I'm out w/Katie (convinced her to play hookey) and we're
-B U Y I N G S H O E S!
-Lunch at the Melting Pot
-Hitting 4th St. for the Nightlife
-Catching a cab home

Whew! Would luuuuuv to live that day!

Jobs I've Held, Pt. 2

Hastings- Hired as associate and within two months promoted to manager. Worked in all sections (books, music, rentals, magazines) by the time I put in my notice. (See an “overachiever” theme here?)

Legal Secretary-Did this favor for my Dad the summer after I graduated from college, after that final stint in Vt. It lasted almost exactly one year b/c I wanted to go visit a guy I’d met at my cousin’s wedding and he didn’t want me to go so he didn’t approve my vacation time off. I quit my job and went on my vacation anyway. He says he fired me. I have been fired-once, but I was able to talk my way back in. My Dad didn’t fire me, but if it hurts him less to think of it that way, I’m OK w/it too. (Honestly, I just didn’t like dealing w/liars, which were most of his clients. I don’t have the stomach for that.

Substitute Teaching- Taught me I’m not mature enough to teach! I am not a yeller, but the 9th Grade Student Center in Seguin, Texas proved me wrong. I did find a perfect position (very rewarding) in the Life Skills class, but I just could not bring myself to clean up BM, so I had to decline. Sighhhh...

Title I Teacher- I got a pretty good handle on this one b/c I was dealing w/2nd graders who couldn’t pass TASS (now called something else), but so many of their problems had nothing to do w/learning disabilities but w/their parents' inability to put their children’s needs before their own. It was so frustrating. Plus, hanging out w/teachers is a bummer. Everyone dresses tacky, and they’re all so petty. Too much like HS for my liking.

Milieu Director: Worked at the Brown School making sure crazy kids didn’t kill each other. Wish I felt safer about them not killing us.

Temp. at Weststaff: Filed medical docs at BAMC in San Antonio for one week straight. A portion of my brain turned to mush forever during that week.

Higher Ed Staff member/real world flunkie- No comment. But I will say that I’m finally planning my next move. Wish me luck!

Art Projects That Have Gone Kaput

Beading jewelry
Watercolor
Cross-stitching
Sewing
Stenciling
Drawing

Top Fears

Something bad will happen to my nephews
I have HIV
I’ll never find happiness in a relationship, and will therefore be alone for the remainder of my days.
I'll end up old and full of regret for all the things I was too scared to try.

Jobs I've Held, Pt. 1

Candy striper: Did this for a summer or two. I had these romantic notions of tending to the sick, but in reality we wore the requisite white and red-striped uniforms while manning the gift shop. This mostly entailed restocking the chips, dusting the knick-knacks, and baking Otis Spunkmeyer cookies. Though it was a volunteered position, I believe we probably ate enough of those cookies to constitute a relatively handsome sum in lost profits for the hospital.
Camp counselor:
McDonalds: My folks would not let me get a job during high school b/c they claimed school was my job. A self-confidence annihilating, non-wage earning, job. But one summer I did talk my folks into letting me work Mickey D’s where I was the cashier/drive-thru flunkie. I so resented that b/c I wanted to be a cook so that I too could melt Happy Meal toys in the SUPER microwaves during slow periods, but nooooo... I had a command of the English language and a full set of unbroken teeth, so I was a Cashier.
Food Court: I got in trouble in college and my $200 per month allowance shrank to $10.00 per week (my Dad is nothing if not strict), but the first time my ten bucks was late I suddenly realized that I could make my own money! I worked at the Underground Food Court on Southside. I was first hired as a cashier, but at the end of my time there I was the only person who could work in any and all of the shops (Taco Bueno, Whataburger, Chick-fil-a, Alonti Deli, AND the frozen yogurt/coffee stand.) Thas’ right! Mad skillz!
Taco Bell- Worked there for 3 months. Most notable for the fact that while they cook no food there, they have the most elaborate cash register set-up. Also, the drunk-asses that rolled through the drive-thru at 1am were funny, and I listened to T’Pau’s “Heart and Soul” about 1,200 times in the three months I was there.

List of Questions James Lipton Asks "Inside the Actors Studio"

What is your favorite word? Weimaraner (it's fun to say)
What is your least favorite word? compromise
What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally? The big city. Just all those possibilities and new experiences crammed into an area.
What turns you off? People who are arrogant. Everyone should have a healthy ego, just don’t be a tool.
What is your favorite curse word? Cocksucker! (You gotta say it like “Cock-suck-errrrrrrr”)
What sound or noise do you love? Sounds of the beach are my favorite.
What sound or noise do you hate? When those needle-dicked asshats that install glasspacks on their trucks drive by in my apt. parking lot and make all the freakin’ noise. Y’know, I like speed as much as any other red-blooded Southerner, but unless I choose to attend a NASCAR event, I really don’t want to hear that shit.
What profession, other than your own would you like to attempt? Speech Pathology. I think I'd be good at it, but I've got to get my finances in order before I can pursue it.
What profession would you not like to do? Teaching. I haven't the patience.
If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the pearly gates? Welcome in Aimee! Your family and friends are just over there.
Questions I’d love to shout out at any given time: Who/What the fuck is Veronica Mars?!?!

Lays I've Turned Down

I guess I need to clarify this one. I realize that most guys, of a certain age, will basically take what they can get when they can get it. Not that all men are dogs (well…kinda….) but just that I’m not talking about all the chance meetings which could have turned into something physical. I’m listing here people who have:
1. Overtly pursued me
2. I had occasion to be in various sleeping quarters with them
3. I did not partake of their offers of carnal knowledge. (‘Cause I’m a germaphobic nancy.) :-)

Kyle, my lab partner- Nice guy, just not a guy I was interested in. I actually thought he was gay were it not for his asking me out. One evening we were studying in my dorm room; I was on the bed and he was on the floor. I glanced up to his staring at my cleavage (vantage point was in his favor). He silently lifted his hand and touched my necklace and traced up to my neck. I nervously laughed it off. (‘Cause I’m a germaphobic nancy) I never again saw him after that semester of Biology lab.

Bonie- Met this guy my first year working in VT at the F&W camps. He was probably about 6ft 5in tall, and from Africa, so he was a bit intimidating. Not only physically but culturally intimidating. I hate to admit this but I read and hear about different cultures and those things are frequently negative. There are men from certain ethnicities that I just would not date. Middle Eastern, for one, and oh yeah- MEXICO! Ha ha! I’m not trying to be the boss of anyone else, but I have to be the boss of me. Well, OK, relationships are about compromise so I’ll say I have to be the boss of 80% of me (there, is that enough leeway?!)
ANYWAY-he was also older than me so it was just all very intimidating. One night I let him take me out and we got back very late. We were about 45 minutes from camp, it was about 1am, and I didn’t want to wake anyone up, so I stayed at his apt. On his bed-he stayed on the couch. That next year he sent me fifty bucks for my b-day. Poor guy. He really was a nice man, just too much for my 19-yr-old self to deal with.

Claire A.-S’right baby, my hotness transcends gender and shit! Ha ha! This was my second year I worked at camp in Vt. and she was my co-counselor (sounds like a porno already: Camp Cunnilingus) and she admitted she did have a crush on me. Not to brag, but she was the 'belle of ball' that summer-everyone was trying to get into that woman’s shorts. There was even a summer scandal b/c one half of a very established lesbian couple tried to seduce poor Claire, they ended up kissing, Claire stopped it, and la Otra found out. That cuckolded woman cried and cried in every one of our song circles for the next 3 weeks! Anyway, Claire is bi, so she was awesome to talk to in that we both had guy probs and she wasn’t one of those granola nuts who thought the protein from menstrual blood was a viable substitute for plant food (uh…yeah, that conversation was uncomfortable, to say the least). Not sure at what point she decided she wanted to usher me into the ways of female-to-female pleasures of the flesh, but being that I was 21, never had a boyfriend, and didn’t trust men, I must have been ripe for the pickin’! Or so we thought.
The last few nights of camp were tense, ESPECIALLY after the kids left. We got a solid week and half or so, to do general clean-up once the final summer session was drawing to a close, where we were alone in a 3-sided cabin located in the middle of the wilderness, a good 4 minute walk from any other cabin, and in the darkest of darkness (for real, I’ve never experienced darkness like in the Green Mountains of Vt.) During the whole summer we had slept at opposite ends of the cabin, for the sake of safety and for the kids, but that final night Claire decided to move her bedding to the bunk right across from me. She also nabbed a small lantern, as we had already turned in the large one. I can clearly remember seeing her laid out, in her short shorts and navy blue tank top. Claire was on the swim team at Swarthmore, and her body showed it. Sleek and sinewed, her golden tanned, smooth skin was glowing in the lamplight, and I caught flickers of her green eyes as her head tilted when she spoke. We’re talking in the dark, with the night encircling the tiny waning flame of our lantern, and we reach a lull in the conversation. She looks at me, squints her eyes nervously and abruptly states: “I keep thinking of a song over and over again in my head and it just won’t stop.” Me: “What song?” Claire: (shyly singing) “Don’t You Want Me Baby?” I don’t remember what I changed the subject to, probably something stupid like “Don’t you just hate it when songs get stuck in your head?”. I wasn’t oblivious then, just scared, but I remember theorizing the following:
-You don’t have random encounters w/guys you’re probably never going to see again, why would you do that with a woman?
-Where are the butterflies? If I really wanted this, wouldn’t I have butterflies in my stomach?
And so…we never did consummate the attraction (Of course I was attracted to her, she was HOT! And smart, and sweet, and funny, and she didn’t expect anything from me except for me to be myself) We shared a few e-mails during that year, she did a summer at camp w/out me, and the next summer I did one summer w/out her, though she did visit. By that time I was with my ex, staying up until 4am talking on the phone (taking care of a dozen 12-yr-olds on no sleep just doesn’t benefit anyone), and when we got together I couldn’t get my head out of my ex’s ass long enough to have a nice time. Almost literally b/c I remember us sitting in the office (I was waiting for a call from him) and she was inviting me to go out w/her but I didn’t want to miss the call so I said no. WHAT AN IDIOT! For no other reason than it was a very immature thing to do; my ex was going to be around but for some stupid reason I ended up snubbing her. And though I have been hit on by other women since, I always tell myself “If you passed on Claire, there’s no WAY this chick would measure up.”

Clint- Met this guy in a bar in McQueeney (I really need to start lying about that) shortly after I came back to Seguin after A&M. He was a workin’ man w/workin’ man hands, and I am so a sucker for that. And he had curly blonde hair, which was very cute, and was about 4 yrs younger than I was. I’m sure this was a ruse, but at closing time he claimed his car wouldn’t start, and he lived in La Vernia or some mess, and it was a cold winter’s night (relative-probably about 30 degrees outside, but that’s cold in Texas), so he asked if he could stay at my place until he could get the situation sorted out. We were definitely tipsy, but not sloppy drunk or anything. I took a shower and got into my (very chaste and tactful) pjs before exiting the bathroom and found him passed out on my bed. I didn’t take the couch b/c:
1. I have a hard time sleeping in that living room ever since one of those huge waterbug/cockroaches once, in the middle of the night, fell off the ceiling and into my bed.
2. It’s a short couch so it’s not great for sleeping in. Napping- sure, a full night’s rest- not so much.
3. I’m not an animal! Geez, I can sleep next to someone and not have our genitalia converge.

And so I feel asleep, which was all good. While yes, I did just state that it’s not like I was a bitch in season or anything, we did end up cuddling a bit. I think that part of evolution really can’t be helped, but no kissing or fondling. What I DO remember the next morning is waking up on my back, peeking through my sleepy haze and seeing his hand very gently making its way south into my flower-patterned long johns bottoms (told you I donned chaste pjs that night!). I played it cool, feigned sleep and rolled over onto my side. His second attempt, however, led to my pretending he was just attempting to spoon thus waking me up. Shortly thereafter I drove him back to his car (he called someone to meet him there), and dropped him off. I also had to avoid that guy’s calls for a couple of weeks. What?! He was trying to GROPE ME in my sleep AFTER he had sobered up! YUCK! (Hmmm, wonder if that guy’s still available….) Ha ha!

Keith- It took me at least half a year to figure out this guy was interested in me b/c he was pretty shy. He had red hair, a red goatee, and hung out on the benches at Moore Hall during my final summer there. We went to Dudleys a couple of times, and he also came to my dorm room to watch Al Pacino’s “Looking for Richard”, which is about Shakespeare’s play “Richard III”. He watched the whole thing w/me (still think it’s a great movie) and called me a couple of times after he graduated and moved to Dallas. Why didn’t I latch onto that guy like white on rice? I dunno! I just don’t know how to turn that corner from friend to something else, and I guess he didn’t either.

Some guy my friends brought over for a party…just can’t think of his name: VERY cute, VERY smart, and taken. His gf went home to Mexico or the valley or something so he was flying solo that night. Everyone leaves the party (it was at my house) and he stays b/c we’re having such a good time sitting on the couch just talking and laughing. He asked to kiss me but I said I couldn’t b/c he had a girlfriend, and so we just kept on talking. Finally the sun came up, I walked him to his car and he said “Well, can I at least get a hug?” So we hugged (I fell really bad about this b/c I’m sure either my Papo and/or my grandma saw this, and who knows what they thought of me), but I didn’t see him much after that, maybe once or twice. I did, however, run into his gf a few of times and she was quite clear about what she thought of me. So unfair! I TOTALLY could have macked on him, but I would never do that. I guess I have to add “God-fearing” to germaphobic nancy.

Rick- Friend of an ex of Michele’s: Michele set us up b/c he was having a really hard time getting back into the game after a long term relationship. He wasn’t much to look at, but he was a nice guy. We had all gone out drinking, it must’ve been at least 2am and I’m still in S.A. My cousin and her BF had an apt. together at the time, and I’m not sure how we all split off, but Rick offered to get me a hotel for the night b/c he lived at home and he didn’t want me to think he was coming on to me. (I can vouch for that first part; we’d been to his house playing pool the weekend before and there was really no place to sleep in his house besides his bed) So we’re at La Quinta, he gets two double beds (we ended up in one), and I said I wouldn’t have intercourse and he said he wanted to give me “oral pleasures”, which in my mind is ten times more intimate than fucking, so we made out, then passed out. I heard he got back w/his ex shortly thereafter. Yup, I’m either forcing them out of the closet or into their previous failed relationship; I’m a real heartbreaker.

And so those are the lays I laid to the wayside. After I wrote this I realized all of these happened before I met my ex, and I’d hate to think that anyone would assume that I no longer say no, or even worse, that I’m no longer offered. (Ha ha! What an ego on this chick, huh?) I wouldn’t know, things are just…different now that I’m older. No more house parties, no more meeting friends in clubs, no more chillin’ in the dorm rooms, and no more camp. Nowadays it’s a date, a hug, and an internal “Thanks but no thanks” as you walk back to your car. Here’s hoping my days of polite declinations, and that one special “Oh YEAH!” are still ahead of me. (And yes, I too think it’s funny that I subconsciously turn most parting thoughts into toasts)

Pets I've Owned

Ginger: Doberman mix. She would always jump on me, and she once scratched my face up, so mom made dad get rid of her.
Pepper: Pekapoo. She was the dog I grew up with.
Noah: One-eyed poodle. He was actually my brother’s dog b/c he kept shaving a Mohawk into his fur.
Woody: He was half Yorkie, half whatever-jumped-over-the-fence, and he took after his father. He used to chew holes in his pillow and then hump the hole. I'm still fascinated by this b/c while I realize most all dogs hump (even some females), but how did he know to make a hole first?!
Spivy: For some reason my brother bought a flying squirrel and he gave it to me. I have no delusions that he specifically bought it for me, I’m sure he just noted that this “pet’s” nocturnal tendencies were more than he wanted to handle, so I took care of him. When I went away to college I asked a friend to take care of it for awhile. She had to leave it in the bathroom at night (even when you KNOW there’s a flying squirrel on the loose, waking up and seeing one whizz through the air at 2am while you’re trying to sleep is still a bit disconcerting), and somehow Spivy drowned in the toilet. She didn’t want to tell me this so I actually found out about his untimely demise about 6 months after it happened.
Odoe: Guinea Pig that Phil, the resident “old guy still in the dorms” gave to my friend April and me upon his graduation. He was plenty old and died after about 2 months. He’s buried at the corner of the volleyball court in the Keathley-Fowler-Hughes complex at A&M.
Stimpy: Beta fish. That fish lived for about 2 years, and would’ve lived longer, only he got some kind of fish “ick”. It was gross to watch, and I bought stuff to treat him, but in the end there I knew he wasn’t going to make it. I wish I could have put him out of his misery, but the only thing I could come up with was lopping off his head, and there’s no way I’ve got the stomach for that.
Maize: Little white feeder mouse I saved from certain doom. She lived about 18 months. The best part about having a mouse as a pet was that my grandma was terrified of it. (HEY, she’s always killing roaches, picking them up and waving them at me while giggling her ass off. It was time for some payback!)
Bailey: Bichon Frise puppy given to me by my Dad during my final semester in college. I thought I could keep he quiet in the dorm room (it was summer, after all), but it proved too tough a task to maintain, so I asked my aunt Sylvia to watch her for me until the summer ended. By then she was too attached and couldn’t let her go. I was a bit upset, but it was for the best. I was too young and fancy-free to really take care of a pet. Plus, Bailey never did get the hang of the whole “peeing & pooping outside” thing.
Another fish, though I cannot recall the name….
Rootie: This is my DAWG! She’s the best dog I could ever hope to have. I love her little personality, she’s obedient with a sweet disposition, and the CUTEST dog ever. If ever I were to get behind cloning, it would be b/c of this dog.

Blah Blogging

OK, let’s just get right out there and say it: this month's blogging sucks! The rest of it is hardly a masterpiece, but it does have it’s moments, whereas sharing my “to do” list at work and calling it a post is really…well, quite frankly it’s embarrassing. Here are a few lists I need to get behind:

Jobs I’ve held
Pets I’ve owned
Boys I’ve kissed (though I’ve actually already done that one and only have the one addition to make)
Lays I’ve turned down
Days I’d relive
Top Fears
Secrets I’ve Never Sent to Postsecret, but wanted to
Art projects that went kaput
Things I’d do in a day if money & time were no object
Things I’d do in a month if money & time were no object

Yes, that won’t take care of the entire month of March, but at least half of what is remaining. And does the fact that I STILL have not produced a satisfactory/even mildly entertaining list for you make me feel bad? No way! This teaser is what showmanship is all about ! Ha ha!

Things I Promised God

if I'm Negative for HIV:

• Will attend the Passion on Good Friday (If I'm off that day I'll do the whole shebangey-bang, if not, will attend as early as I can until the end.)
• During my visit to see Eric in the Valley, I'll visit the Basiclica in San Juan, and attend confession.
• I'll watch "The Passion of the Christ"

To Do List for Spring Break

Donor letter
SOP for all processes
Response to Mittes
Start awarding schols
Potential school list
Potential TA list
Response to Wilkinson
Complete GOJAs

Americans Love Lists

Places I'd Consider Moving To

Portland, Oregon
Colorado
Cleveland
Austin
Chicago
The Valley (I DUNNO! But it's true)

Things I Wish I'd Done in The Valley

Visited the Basilica in San Juan
Called Leslie
Not eaten at Johnny Carinos
Watched less TV
Drank more margaritas
Gotten some sun
Written down some shit that won't stop swirling around my head

Must Haves for a Night on the Town

Debit Card
Drivers License
Loreal Shine Delice-Black Cherry
Five Sugarfree gum (flavor-Rain)
5 bucks in cash
cell phone
Great company (thanks Eric!)

Concerts I Wish I Could Have Seen

Stevie Ray Vaughn
The Pixies
Van Halen
Jimmy Hendrix
Sex Pistols

Guilty Pleasures

TV I feel like I'm too old to watch, but I still enjoy:

Gene Simmons Family Jewels
Rob & Big (Every time that 400 lb man says the word “doo-doo”, it just incites my soul to new heights of glee.)
My Gym Partner is a Monkey
Spongebob Squarepants
Orange County Choppers

Joan Rivers To-be

Cosmetic procedures I’d consider today:
Permanent eyeliner
Laser hair removal for legs
Resurfacing of eye area (lasers only)
Botox on forehead (one wrinkle on left side that stays around longer than it used to after I squint)

Cosmetic procedures I'd consider down the line:
Possible eye lift (pretty big “maybe” here)
Botox around smile lines
Chemical peel
Tummy tuck
Boob lift (just reorganizing the shit that I’ve got-no additions)

March Madness

Haven't put much (any) time into my blog lately, mostly b/c I've been so very busy. But the Nablopomo thing, which usually happens in November, is on again in March. Ohhhh, so you have no time to even pay minimal attention to your blog, so you've decided to fit in a blog post each day.... A'YUP! What actually sold me is the March theme of "lists". I whip out those stupid bulletins like nothing, so how hard could it be to make a list? Guess we’ll see

I’m starting out slow, so for your viewing pleasure, I bring to you: Songs I can sing from memory. Now, I’ll bet most of us can sing along to hundreds of songs, but are there any songs you can recall word for word, beat for beat with no music to help you along? Try it! Right now, sitting in front of a computer, open Word, think of your most favoritist song and try to type out all words. I was surprised to find I knew so few.

Beatles: Rocky Raccoon
Sarah McLaughlan: Possession
Beastie Boys: 3 Minute Rule
Weezer: El Scorcho
Aerosmith: What it takes
Indigo Girls: Galileo

Probably more, but I said I’d have time to write lists, not construct songbooks.

Ain't Nuthin' Goin' On But the Rent

I gave up take out for lent, so I’ve been cooking a lot lately. Tonight was the first night that I’ve made chicken strips (from scratch) since being w/my ex. Not that is was so painful or anything, just that I’m not big on fried chicken (or fried foods in general), plus it stinks up the house. That last part, the final statement, is something it takes moths to forget. And now, being in an apartment, the “house” is smaller than ever, so I can only imagine that while I did close both closet doors, my clothes will convey “ode au Colonel Sanders”, therefore I will be smelling of chicken strips for the next couple of months, if I’m lucky.

My blogging has ground to a halt as of late, and for that I must blame the job (s) that have been taking up my time. And though I am gone, I hope I’m not forgotten! Latest and the greatest?

I thought I had a cold sore. As many of you know, I briefly dated a man in the late month of Nov, and most of December, and I have now convinced myself that I will soon get a cold sore. Yes, one of my greater fears, that of ORAL HERPES, has darkened my door and I am terrified that it will now strike. Saturday I felt a tiny bump right above the top of my lip on the left side. Since I’m still dealing w/stress acne due to my job, I initially thought “ZIT LIP! EWWWW!” and then the sinister voice inside my head halted all rational thought, and I was presented with the notion of the dreaded cold sore. Yes, yes, I know- most everyone had them when they were kids, blah blah blah…. But I’ve never had one. And in college I knew girls who did have them. Not only were they not of the “prudent and judicious” sort, but watching them brave through weeks of scabby lips made me realize very quickly that the heady powers of wielding your feminine wiles over an interested gentleman was just not worth catching an incurable virus that would plague you for the rest of your days. And so, this lead me to making a $15.00 purchase of Abreva today, despite the fact that this bump cannot be seen without the aid of 5X magnifying mirror, and a direct light source. A dear friend of mine called me and assured me that since it never tingled, and the fact that I only feel it when I’m poking/prodding, it is more than likely not a cold sore. Whatever…the generous applications of Abreva and fretting continue. And it has been a few days since, and I’ve since realized that I should have forgone the fifteen dollar investment in Abreva and simply plunked down three bucks for some Clearasil.

And some other things that have bothered me:
KFC Commercial. Not to make any wide-cast stereotypical observations about the kind of family that crowds around a bucket of chicken for a special meal, but only saying that even if there are teenagers out there able to cast dubious remarks about their father’s involvement with a “real band”, I can only hope that any teenager’s quip demanding to know if their mother was a groupie would not be met with a head tilt and a smile. Yes, a childless woman growing up in the 80’s with a strictest of patriarchs (cannot go shoeless, no talking at the dinner table-if you’ve never procreated, and may God help you if you utter the word “shut-up”), is just incapable of imagining a world where this is a delightfully charming slice of Americana.

I had a date with a blind guy. I went to a training session for my job, and I met someone I had gone to A&M with, lo those many years ago. And he’s smart. He’s now in grad school, not too conservative, and his folks are still married. (each fact earning him a grace point), and so the other day we went out for lunch. Weeeelll, maybe I should divulge a bit more. I agreed to read and record some chapters for him, b/c many of his textbooks are not in Braille, and I have actually done this before. So we’ve met quite a few times and had many good conversations in the process. This did not prepare me for the two facts that have halted this prospect in his tracks. And before I list these reasons, I must preface it with this fact: I can be one prissy bitch.

1. We were having lunch, and though we’d been speaking, regularly and in person for three weeks prior, I suddenly-and only while ingesting foodstuffs-freaked out about the fact that he does not cover his eyes and there is a milky white film and accompanying discharge (not much, but it’s there!) over his eyes. I had to stop looking at him during conversation in order to finish my lunch.

2. During these conversations I had casually noticed that there were a few times when his breath was not on par. But I just kind of explained these times away with “cotton mouth”, or “kitten’s breath”. On that final day I learned that this gentleman has halitosis. I have learned the following: I am a dick who cannot accept all the wonderful things a man has to offer, if a little something like stinky breath will get in the way.

Sharing. Growing. Learning (Well…two out three ain’t bad)

Another One Bites the Dust

So the saga of the web hottie has come to a close. We finally met Thursday and he hasn’t called me since. In the interest of not bashing myself over the sharp rocks of my own self-hatred, I’m going to try to see the positive aspects. Y’know, this whole time I’ve just thought to myself “Your size makes men uncomfortable, and it’s just these shallow guys who have the problem.” NIEN! These last few guys were well aware of my chubbies, even to the point of celebrating chunky monkies such as myself- this last one even saw pictures of me BEFORE he drove down to Houston just to have lunch with me- and I STILL couldn’t bag a dude. Oh yeah…positive stuff about this…right. Well, it’s just that I need to stop focusing on this size issue and start figuring out how the hell I can get men to fall in serious like with me over the freakin’ phone, but when I try to seal the deal in person, it’s a no-go. I mean, I don’t have any overt problems getting to know people. In my line of work I’ve found that my personality actually goes quite a long way in terms of getting tasks accomplished by people whose job description does not include “help out the Scholarship Office”, and I’d like to think this is because I’m affable, fun-loving, down to earth, and just an all around hop-hop-happy woman. And yet! Shut down by men who liked me on the phone, then not so much in person. I’ve got some theories. Wanna here ‘em, here they go:

1. I’m not good at flirting. I’d say that out of the last 20 guys I’ve been attracted to, I let that fact be known to exactly none of them. Just not good at that aspect of the dating thing.
2. I’m not dumbing myself down for ANYONE! And if you’re the type of guy who’s got an ego made of spun glass, then buy a blow-up doll, shove a tape player up her ass, and play affirmations from Stuart Smalley until you feel like a man.
3. I don't "need" a man, and I think it shows. You see, in my little fucked up corner of the world, it is a compliment for a man to know that I can take care of myself in most every way, so the fact that I'm willingly taking care of their needs in addition to mine, means that I have such an affinity for them that they must be of a very specific and special calibur in general. Sadly, men do not see this as a compliment, but as a sticking point. (How do I even BEGIN to change that?)
4. I like to listen-I am a listener, and I like to learn, so details of anything from the stock market to taxonomy (and anything in between!), will be met with looks of interest and attentive questions. I can do this ALL NIGHT if you let me because the more you talk, the less I have to divulge about myself. Not sure if this is a bad thing, just thought you should know….

Whatever. I’ve been “trying” for about 3 months now and I think this experiment is done. I got my heart stomped on in December (when I’m at my most emotionally precarious), and now I’ve been royally dissed, yet once again, by the lowest blow imaginable. No really! You meet someone cold and you go in knowing there is a small chance sparks will fly. You talk to someone every day for 3 months and get to know them decently well, have them meet you, THEN decide you’re bad news. Try to brush your teeth and not second-guess your reflection with every stroke. Sighhhh…. I’m a tough gal and all, but even this hard-hearted lass with a brain in her head, a laugh in her heart, empathy in her soul (who’s not looking for some meal ticket I might add!), and some viable eggs in her ovaries is getting wary of the world.

Though I’m sure my romantic woes are interesting enough, I should move on. I believe I’ve solved my Superbowl dilemma. Instead of traveling to S.A. (gas+drinks), or going to a bar (drinks+appys), I’ve decided to watch the game in the comfort of my own postage stamp. That’s right, I was set back about $30 by purchasing the following:
Beer
Olives
Cheese
Crab salad
Baguette

And now Superbowl XLII is ON for the Aimster! It won’t be all that it could be, but it’ll be enough. Well, bedtime is early tonight b/c I have to open fed. letters tomorrow at 6am.
Life is good! (No really!) And any male with a working recollection of their initial thoughts upon meeting me are more than welcome to respond in order so that I may more ably see how I'm fucking this new guy thing up! (I won't be defensive, I just really want to know how I come off.) No really! You have my word: no repurcussions for telling me off! :-)

Almost forgot: My friend Jana’s got a theory that this last one didn’t work out b/c he's shallow, into thickies, and just didn't think I was fat enough. Thanks Jana. You rock.

Easin' on Down the Road

Wow. Just got back from church after having not gone for the past 7 or so years. I had tried a couple of times to start going back to church, but the guilt of having left in the first place made me feel like I didn’t really have a right to ask to be a part of it again. You see, I used to go to church every Sunday from the age of zero, all the way to the age of 23. There were the 4 years of college, and though I wasn’t a regularly-attending parishioner at the church next to campus (St. Mary’s), I went a few times. But that’s different; college was my way of getting out from under my parents rules and doing whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. They made me go to church, they made me take dance, they MADE me be in band, so not going to church was just all a part of that. When I got back to Seguin, I just found it all again my own way. I even taught high school CCD classes for 2 or three years after college. The reason? I’ve always felt like it’s important to have that baseline faith.

Faith is really difficult to explain, but I think that when you have it, (or when it’s been placed on you for the first, formative decade in your life), it’s just a part of who you are. You can deny it, try to shut it out, and go about your life like it doesn’t matter, but invariably, when shit hits the fan, or when someone wonderful plops into your lap, it’s just reflex to think (or sometimes say) “Thank you God!” or “Help me God!”, whichever is more relevant to your situation. I think that’s key. The worst kind of feeling when you need help, or even just help rejoicing, is when you feel completely alone. No one is there to help you, or pat you on the back. I think, during those times, your faith matters the most, and as long as you have that faith, you’ll be OK. When I taught CCD I wasn’t all heavy-handed w/abstinence and other schlock you don’t want to hear when you’re a young adult. I just wanted to be practical about the fact that their faith is a resource, it makes you stronger, and even though right now you think you’ve got everything all figured out and nothing bad will ever happen to you, if/when you need it, it’s going to be there for you.

Ahhhh, but to practice what I preached. For years now I felt like a charlatan, but with my latest really stupid decision, I’ve been pushed more and more to go back to my faith. Not only by those I seek counsel from, but in other ways as well. I wanted to go to church last weekend. I looked up the info, kinda figured out where the church in San Marcos was, but I’ve been a bit of a shut-in lately. Everytime I made plans I would somehow just end up on my bed, watching TV or falling asleep. This, kids, is called depression (de-pre-shun) and it’s held me captive in my apartment for about 3 weeks now. So what happened today? Yesterday I went to Seguin, the usual 3 hour tour, and just hung out w/my grandma a bit. She showed me her little alters, which are dedicated to all of her kids and grandkids (and now great grandkids). She lights candles and prays for us all the time. That really humbled me.

Last night, as I was attempting to stave off the panic attack that peaks nightly, I took two sleeping pills. I always keep ice water next to my bed, b/c there’s nothing worse than being thirsty at night. Well, last night I was so groggy I must’ve knocked it over in my sleep b/c this morning I suddenly felt wet on my left side. My first thought was that Rootie had puked again in the night, but when I discovered it had no odor, I realized my bed was full of ice water. This was sufficient to wake me up entirely, had me look at the clock and read 7:07 am. The first thought that popped into my head was that I could make the 8 o’clock mass. And so I did.

I had grave reservations. Would I remember the prayers? Should I get communion? Would it just make me feel more guilty? And it was everything I didn’t expect. Within the first 40 seconds I closed my eyes and drew in all the sounds and smells to discover that I was home. Y’know how that first cocktail you have on an empty stomach when you just got off a particularly tough day at work, and the muscles on your shoulders just melt? It was like that. The homily was about coming back to Jesus, even if you feel you haven’t been close to Him. The deacon talked about the three ways to serve God: Praying, Being, and Doing. If you are committed to praying in your day, being a good person, and doing things that let others know you are trying to espouse His tenants, then that’s all He wants us to do. And that is helping me realize a few things about me.

1. I’m squandering every gift I’ve been given. If I’m not happy being overweight, and feel uncomfortable dating men at this size, I’ve been given the constitution to change that. I’m just not using it.
2. My attempts to downsize my lifestyle and pay off my debts have been largely half hearted. I’ve been doing stupid shit like dining out for lunch 3+ times a week, spending $60+ each weekend on intangible b.s. that isn’t improving anything about my life in any way. (Drinking, saying stupid shit, then going home alone is losing it’s appeal.)
3. I have got to stop waiting for life to happen, because the more I wait, the more I realize that NOTHING is going to happen. That in and of itself is not so bad; being cognizant of this and still watching things pass me by is criminal.
4. Stop wasting all the wonderful things in your life.

And so, these next few months of waiting are ushering in some positive changes in my life (NO pun intened). If nothing else than the fact that I’ve felt homeless since last May, but I now know I do have a place to go and feel safe and whole, and that’s all a home really is to begin with.

Prayers For Rain

Though it wasn’t my resolution to post more, I will admit that since nablopomo, I haven’t done much with this site. I’ve been busy.
1) I was in a relationship
2) My relationship ended
3) I am now convinced that I have contracted HIV

Let me explain. I haven’t had many sexual partners. I have had intimate relations with 3 men in my life. Lost my virginity at 20, had a boyfriend for 4 years, then I met this last man. I thought I was entering a committed relationship and so I took care of business. I went to the doctor and put myself on the pill. The end. Having never really dated much, I just didn’t think about STDs. I mean, I asked him when he was last with a woman, and if he had ever been tested for STDs. He relayed he hadn’t had sex in 6 months and claimed that due to his gastric bypass, he has to get a full physical every year, including bloodwork. And I believed him.

I won’t go into the gory details, though I will say I have a penchant for falling for the loveable loser-the underdog who has great intentions but maybe hasn’t made the best of his life. Don’t get me wrong, this man owns a home, is self-employed, and appeared to take care of himself and his family, but he often called me “college girl” and my acerbic, sharp wit would often puncture his ego at the drop of a hat. And I fell for this guy. We had sex for about 2 and half weeks, many many times. Remember, I hadn’t been with a man in almost 2 years, and I was so taken in with the fact that he was really a man! I mean, my ex was 3 yrs my junior when we met and was only 26 when we broke up. This last guy was 37 years old. Very different, in a good way. So not only was I excited about FINALLY finding a partner, I was also extra eager at all the different, new ways I found myself with this man. And then the bottom fell out.

He really wanted to meet my parents so I set something up for Christmas Eve. A few days before he mentioned how his 17-yr-old daughter was looking forward to it too. Wait, what? I just thought it was too soon to get all La Familia involved, and actually was only setting up the meeting to begin with at his own behest. I’m good w/my folks not being a part of my personal life. I’ve got nothing to hide, but I’m also not of the opinion that coupling up somehow validates a person, so why get the opinions of loved ones all up in my bidness? Though I was completely open to the fact that dating a man with children was going to add another dimension to the relationship, I was ready. Or I guess I thought I was. I found that the number one way to piss someone off is to tell them you weren’t expecting their child/children to attend an event you invited them to. And, as I said before, the bottom fell out. Well, more like exploded.

Things did get a little ugly; I was very hurt but determined to stay away. I am of the mind that you can never talk your way out of “dumped”, and if things were that precarious to begin with, it did not bode well for the long haul. I’m not trying to find a husband, but I’m also not looking for Mr. Right Now. Then the panic attacks set in. AFTER things went south I asked him how many people he’d been with, like ever. His reply? “Too many to count.” And how many women had he slept with in the past year? “Six or eight.” Did I mention I was having panic attacks? I went to my doctor for an HIV test, which came out negative. I was told that HIV cannot be detected until 3-6 months after having contracted it. I’ve already counted off the weeks on my home calendar, which will put me at my second HIV test during the week of St. Patrick’s day. And the panic attacks rage on.

I understand the chances of a 32 year old woman who has had intercourse with 3 straight men in her life, and has never taken intravenous drugs, or engaged in other high risk activities is rather low. That thought NEVER enters my mind at 10pm when I’m certain my lymph nodes are aching as the HIV virus is even now replicating in my veins. And my thoughts then turn to the following:
1. How am I ever going to find a partner if I have HIV?
2. I won’t be able to have children
3. How will I tell my family?
4. My life will always carry the stigma of an HIV infection
5. I will never live to be 70
6. I know that I will die in a hospital of a painful and horrible disease

This is about the time I start breathing like I’ve run a mile, my chest tightens to the point of implosion, and my legs MUST WALK FORWARD, which is tough to do for any length of time when you live in a crackerbox “studio”-read efficiency- apartment. And this has filled my evening for the past 2 weeks. During the daytime I can disguise my anxiety fairly well, but there have been a few occasions where I have succumbed to tears at the thought that my life as a healthy person has largely been taken for granted and I now have no future to look forward to. I just thought that I was taking care of myself. Doing the adult thing by getting on the pill. I didn’t understand that at my age, other precautions must be factored in. I just didn’t understand.


Now, I just WANT TO KNOW! And if I am still negative, I WILL try harder to do positive things with my life. I WILL NOT feel sorry for myself. I WILL take more chances on life. I WILL NOT have ANY unprotected sex until a prospective partner has taken an HIV test at LEAST 6 months after we are together. Please, please Lord. Give me that chance.

NEXT!

Made it through another holiday season-barely. I just always get so depressed during the holidays, but this year I’m trying to reach out more and not just stewing in silence. That’s tough for me to do b/c my very first reaction to anyone ever asking me “what’s wrong?” is “NOTHING!”, even as I’m laying in the fetal position, murmuring and rocking from side to side. But this is not a new thing. I’ve had my bouts of melancholy, and they mostly have to do w/feelings of isolation, and that is always exacerbated by the holiday season, as if being a single, nobody-wants-me loser is somehow more manageable during the other 50 weeks out of the year. And yet somehow it is…. ?? But you can’t peg it all on “nurture”, or some kind of fatalistic, self-fulfilling prophecy. Every year my mom loves to tell the story of my fourth Christmas whereupon the 2nd attempt to rouse me in order to celebrate all the joys Christmas morning has to offer, I stomped into the living room, sulkily tore open all my gifts, grabbed the natty Oscar the Grouch doll I had schlepped everywhere for the previous year (fitting, eh?), and stomped back to my room where I slammed the door shut behind me. I guess I was just destined to be a Grinch.

Now, you may say that I wasn’t ALWAYS single during the holidays, what with me previously being in a 4-yr relationship, but my folks and my ex didn’t get along. I’ve always wanted to go to midnight mass with someone I loved. I want to sit with my family on Christmas Eve while sipping on homemade hot chocolate (not that powdered crap that comes in pouches), or eggnog AND be able to adoringly gaze into the eyes of my sweetie. Or maybe giving that “Clint Eastwood” squint of mine for any behavior that is not Nieto-approved. Ha ha! I’m just saying that I’m not looking for perfection, but I just want to feel whole on Christmas. Not fragmented by having a loving family beside me and a boyfriend in another town, or vice versa because what ends up happening is that no matter where you are, or who you’re with, you always feel guilty when you’re spending time with one and not the other. And that was how every special occasion always felt while I was coupled up. (Except Valentines Day-parents have no place in all that.)

And this year was particularly difficult b/c I did, in fact, have a boyfriend when the Christmas season BEGAN, however I came out the other side single as the day I was born. I’m not good at breaking up; I do the whole woman thing of “how did I fuck that up?” with little to no regard for the fact that our goals, perspectives on life, and personalities in general are largely incongruent. But he was 6’ 3 and he had green eyes!!! Sigh….. I did learn that there’s just no way I can date a man who already has kids. This guy only had one of his girls, who was 17-yrs-old and was actually a sweet, cool, well behaved kid. And I STILL couldn’t handle that shit! If I don’t want to hang out in a mall for 4 hrs on a Saturday, then I DON’T WANNA! I don’t care if he promised her she could take a couple of friends to do her Christmas shopping, when all I want to do is go home, pop in a DVD and lounge around so that I can curl up in my baby’s arms, smooch, and I can pet his fuzzy tummy to my hearts content. But nooooooooo. I made the best of it; we people watched mostly, but it didn’t make me happy. That was never going to get better.

And I’ve been so down for the past two weeks that despite the fact that I am packed to the gills with booze (beer, vodka, AND wine) and have nothing but time on my hands as I am on my Christmas vacation, I got drunk exactly one time during the Christmas holidays (thank you much, Eric, you’re a king among men!), which just doesn’t fit. When I get upset I just can’t seem to make my mouth work. No really! I don’t want to eat, or drink, or talk, or anything. I just want to sit and NOT eat and NOT drink and NOT talk. (Only plus, I’ve lost 7 lbs!) This is why I just turn inward; who the hell wants to hang out with someone who won't open their mouth? I didn’t even go out for New Years Eve! Despite a couple of invites to do shit, I elected to stay at home (and not eat, drink, or talk). And on New Years Day I guess I finally turned that corner because for some stupid reason I started drinking beer at 2:30 in the afternoon and didn’t stop until midnight. The week and half of paid vacation was all spent sober and sullen and I decide to give myself a hangover for the first day back at work! Did I mention that I also have THE meeting with THE bigwigs on Friday, and have to get all kinds of stats together for a presentation? In two days. Well…now one b/c I only sobered up around 2pm this afternoon.

I’m thinking 2008 is going to be my year to make awful decisions, but at least it’ll be better than ’07 when I didn’t make any decisions at all.