so here's what happened

For a week I tried getting in touch with A. I heard nothing. No texts, no calls, no emails. I gave up. There was nothing else I could do.

Saturday night I came home from a Christmas party, checked my email, and saw that A had sent me a MySpace message. At the time, I was in a good mood. I hadn't been thinking about him much all day and didn't really want to make myself upset by reading whatever he had sent. So I ignored it. Until I returned to my apartment on Wednesday night. In summary, he claimed to recognize his cowardice, but he had done some thinking and reorganized things (huh? what is that supposed to mean?).

I was angry. I tried calling him after I read it but, of course, no answer. Sent a text. No response. Then, after a bit of further reading, I saw that he had told his friend Jo that "things were going really well with the new chick". Are you kidding me? Now I was pissed. I sent a snarky response to his message and called my mom. After talking to her for 2 1/2 hours, I was done being sad and upset. I got it all out on the phone with her: why I was sad, why I was frustrated, why I need new friends. I realize that this has nothing to do with me; he is just an asshole. He has an ego, and the last thing I need to do is feed it by continuing to try and get in touch with him.

What frustrates me most is thinking about what's next. I have trouble meeting guys, and don't seem to meet anyone anywhere. Before A, I hadn't really dated anyone for about 2 years. A and I met in school. Now that I am finishing school, I don't really have that as an outlet (and he was the only cute guy I ever met in class). My closest friends and roommates all have serious boyfriends, which means that they often spend their time with significant others and not going out with the girls. And their boyfriends' friends? No way. Not interested.

When I woke up this morning, I saw that A had left a comment on my MySpace page (seriously, how old is he? is this how he chooses to communicate with his friends for real?). The comment? Not so nice. Basically wondering why I had been so snarky in my response to him. I told my roommate and just got angry. I balled up my hand in a fist and tried to think of what I should do. Respond? Ignore? I chose to respond with a simple "excuse me?" since that was the first thing that popped into my head when I read his comment. I can't believe this is how he is choosing to communicate with me, rather than just getting some balls and calling me. At this point, I have nothing to say to him, and I know that nothing he says is going to make me feel any better. For some reason, he thinks it's cool for us to immediately just be friends right away. But that won't work, not right away and not given these circumstances. He still hasn't fully explained himself or apologized. He hasn't given me the respect I deserve by actually speaking to me. And he doesn't seem to get it.

done

It's over with A.

He went about things in a very mature way (message on myspace? really?). I still have yet to actually speak to him, which is starting not to bother me so much.

More later.

cried out, at least for tonight

You'll be happy to know that there's been no crying tonight. There was a bit of tearing up and whimpering at one point, but that's subsided.

I am so busy at work, I don't have time to think about anything except cereal and the Internet. After a busy day at work, I took my mom out for a fabulous dinner for her birthday. On my way home, I got a little sad. It was the first time I'd really been alone all day and my feet were killing me. When I got to my apartment...surprise, alone again. I was actually kind of happy about it tonight. Just pulled on some much more comfortable clothes, watched a documentary on the History Channel about opium (and subsequently wondered why I didn't continue to minor in History but then thought about all the extra work I would have done and just enjoyed the show instead).

Now it is bed time, blog time, and general "waste time on myspace until I feel like I should turn off the computer and get to sleep" time. I'm not crying tonight, because crying won't get me anywhere. (I have quite a mound of Kleenex surrounding my garbage can, and I don't really want to add to that.)

reaching for the kleenex...again

I think I have cried myself to sleep every night since last Wednesday. Well, give or take Friday night when I came home wasted and devoured greasy french fries, and Saturday where I spent the entire day in bed or in the bathroom regurgitating aforementioned fries. So that's still four nights' worth of crying.

It sucks. I have NO IDEA what A is doing. Where he is. Why he hasn't returned a phone call or text since we spoke late Wednesday night. Part of me is worried about him, thinking that there is something seriously wrong and that is the reason for him not getting back to me. The other part of me thinks this is somehow all my fault, that I've done something to make him not want to speak to me. I can't understand it.

And it's got me so upset.

One of the things I've learned recently is that I need some new friends. Not that the friends I currently have are bad or anything. It's just that they aren't really around for me. My roommates, which includes my BFF 4-EVA (joke, but seriously, it's been over 13 years of friendship), are never around. While they often have valid excuses for not being here, it's just made it hard when I'm upset. And seeing as I hate being emotional in front of people, it makes it that much harder to just let it all out when they are around. My other close friends are either busy like me or living out of state. As a result, I've found myself crying to no one but the mirror. Having no one to whine to or to express my utter confusion to than the small audience reading this blog. I apologize that every time you read this, I'm confused or sad about the boy. But lately I can't help. With school and work and family being crazy, having issues with him makes me want to crawl under a rock until January. And seeing as A has been one of the few people who has been there when I want to whine or complain about something, it sucks that he is totally MIA.

10 questions

Per Max's request, I am completing these questions....most recognized as the final questions James Lipton asks at the end of each Inside the Actor's Studio.


01. What is your favorite word?
embouteillage (french for traffic jam)

02. What is your least favorite word?
engaging

03. What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally?
quiet and solitude

04. What turns you off?
feeling controlled

05. What is your favorite curse word?
ass-fucker

06. What sound or noise do you love?
the fan in my room when it is the only thing i can hear

07. What sound or noise do you hate?
the phone ringing

08. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
fashion designer

09. What profession would you not like to do?
tax accountant

10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?
See, they told you it existed.

boob tube

During Thanksgiving weekend, I bought the 1st season of Beverly Hills, 90210 on DVD. Even though I was much too young to watch this show when it originally aired, I snuck in viewings when my parents weren't paying attention. I became a huge fan of the show, watching until the first year the kids from West Beverly were in college. Then, it stopped working for me. Shannen Doherty was gone. That was enough to get me to stop watching. (I had the Brenda doll, that's how much I loved her.)

So I've been watching the 1st season, reliving all those early episodes and even catching a few I had never seen before (Brandon was on a TV show?). I find myself connecting with Brenda all over again, and I'm even falling in love with Dylan McKay again too (I had the Dylan doll too). But this evening, while waiting for the Bears game to start, I found myself tearing up over an episode of 90210.

It was the one where Brenda finds a lump in her breast. And the whole scene was eerily similar to when I found a lump in my breast five years ago. It was even in the same spot! As I watched Brenda deal with the lump, not knowing if it was benign and having to undergo surgery to remove it, I started thinking about my own experience all over again. The day that I found the lump was the same day my sorority sister died of leukemia. I was terrified of what I might have. Like Brenda, I talked to my mom first before telling anyone else. But I was nowhere near as scared or worried as the folks on 90210. I'm not sure why. Maybe I was totally in denial that it could be something serious. My mom had had plenty of cysts in her breasts before; there was no reason why this couldn't be the same sort of thing.

An ultrasound revealed that the lump was nothing more than a fibroid adenoma, common among young women. I had it removed a few months later in a very simple surgery and, aside from a faint pink scar on the side of my left breast, I rarely think about it. I remind my friends to do self-exams and try to remember to do my own. But until that episode I watched today, I didn't realize how worried I (maybe) should have been.



*I apologize for the totally inappropriate title of this post, but I couldn't help myself.

insecure, confused, misled - all of the above

Today was the kind of day where as soon as I got to work, all I wanted to do was go home, get in bed, and be all alone. I was slightly hungover and very tired, which explains the bed part. The all alone (and I will add wanting to just cry) was my confusion/frustration with A. There was just something in my mind all day keeping me from focusing on work; understanding the situation was all I could think about. Which is why being in my bed, alone, would have been preferable.

Not to get into to many details as I haven't really had a chance to talk to A yet, but I feel like I've been betrayed. I feel foolish. Naive. Insecure.

And this is after I thought things were going so well just 48 hours ago. You see, we didn't get to hang out all weekend because he was at his mom's house in the suburbs. But because he was bored in the 'burbs, we spent a lot of hours chatting on the phone. This is something we used to do all the time when we started dating, but haven't really done much of lately. It was nice, just talking about random things (we call these conversations "5th Grade Sleepovers" - sometimes we have them in bed). After our chat on Sunday night, I thought things were going well. We were both booked solid for the week so there was no chance we were getting together before the weekend. No sweat. We even had a cute chat via text message Wednesday night when I was out for work. I was happy.

Then I got these feelings of betrayal. This sense that something wasn't right. To make matters worse, I was drunk and it was 2am. To make it further frustrating, A hasn't returned my calls or texts today. Is it because he forgot or lost his phone or it isn't working? Or maybe he doesn't want to talk to me? But in less than 12 hours, could he have really changed his mind about me?

It hurts thinking about it; I was halfway in tears when walking home from the bus tonight (refraining from full crying because my face would probably freeze). I'm calling it a night because I've got a looooong day ahead of me tomorrow, but I'm hoping this can be resolved soon.

SAD or just sad?

I am feeling foolish. And kind of sad. It's the kind of day when I just want to crawl back into bed.


More later.

just see it

I had a four-weekend which I spent doing absolutely nothing. I barely left the house on Friday and Sunday. It snowed and was cold. There was no need to leave the house.

That said, I had severe cabin fever on Monday and, despite a very chilly and windy day, I went out to run errands and see a movie I had been longing to see. It was totally worth it.

Now, somehow, I am in love with Penelope Cruz. Or maybe just Raimunda.