Access Denied

I'm in the UK airport and tried to access my blog, but it was deemed unacceptable or inappropriate. Guess it must be my swearwords? Who knows.

Just got off my flight and am killing time.

Ah well. Gonna go look out the window.

Bye.

Last Stop

I'm on my way to Europe for a couple of weeks tomorrow so I probably won't post for a while.

Sad session at HeadShrinker's tonite.

Feeling rather melancholy over the last day and a half.

That's about it.

Jolly holidays to all y'all. Nite.

Lament

I'm hosting this year's annual Secret Santa. I've set the table with the silver and china. Why not? Who else ever comes over? Besides, it's a holiday party. Might as well enjoy the stuff I have, right?

So I'm scurrying around cleaning the house. Always good to have guests, as it forces one to clean the house.

* * * *

Things, as usual, are the shits with Rover. We just don't get along. Try as we might, we always end up in an argument. And not even over anything concrete. We just don't know how to communicate with one another. I don't understand it. We used to talk so well. Now he thinks I'm trying to "manipulate" him, or "pressure" him. These words over my telling him I would love to help him organize his files and boxes (which are taking over his house).

And he keeps offering up compliments prefaced by statements such as, "I still love Lips but... I really love you," or "For all the time I had a relationship with Lips, well, I still do have a relationship with Lips... I've never wanted to share my sexual fantasies with her and talk with her the way I do with you." And when he says those things, a switch in me flips and my face turns to concrete and my heart sinks. And then he gets mad at me because I am upset by his words. And he takes an angry tack.

What are we doing together? Last night and this morning when I woke up, I laid in bed besides him wondering what the hell I was doing there, wondering whether we would get together on Sunday and celebrate our "Christmas" together before I leave for Europe, wondering if I would give him the gifts I bought for him or keep them for myself, because I almost don't want to exchange gifts. It seems disingenuous somehow.

As I drove home this morning, I thought about the life I'd shared with RacerEx and how much it had meant to me at the beginning. I thought about how companionable we'd been, even after we'd split up, and how wonderful it had been to have someone to share my life with. Rover takes my attempts at wanting to share parts of my and his life as pushing and manipulating. I miss RacerEx. I wish we'd been able to resolve our sexual problems. I wish I'd never fallen in love with Rover.

Ah well, I did. And it is over between RacerEx and me. Pity.

I should go clean.

No Such Thing as Trying

You either do it or you don't.

Today I learned that sometimes, much of the time, I just need to shut the fuck up. Be cool, be patient is right.

Sometimes I'm such a knucklehead.

No Regrets

So glad I went to the Christmas party. We were all out until almost 3:00. I woke up at 7:00, came home and took the dog for a walk. Hard to imagine on less than four hours sleep after close to six or seven drinks that I don't have a hang over.

The evening started slow and ended hysterical. All the fire chicks were dressed to the nines in boob-a-licious dresses. Who knew we all had boobs? Believe me, the station uniform does little for the feminine figure, which is a good thing I suppose.

One gal, we'll call her Flipper, got exceedingly drunk and, well, very bi-friendly. She came up to me and told me she loved me and then told me I have the best breasts in the world and then she grabbed them in front of her boyfriend and asked him if I didn't have wonderful boobs. Then she pretty much grabbed everybody's boobs, and everyone started feeling everyone's boobs (except me who just got groped but did not groping--don't know why, but I'm just not a public groper). It was all good fun. I've never seen her cut loose before. She was fantastic. She posed for photos, danced with everyone, hugged everyone, kissed us all (nicely, just a light smootch on the lips) and told many of us how much she loves us. Then she dared Rover to kiss me, which he did, and then she told me to please get together with him because she's seen that he's madly in love with me and has been for a very long time (astute observation).

He was looking at me like a love sick cow. Many people noticed, I'm certain. Weird how we can do that considering how much we fight. I am a pro at looking disaffected around him.

At the other end of the spectrum last night was the gal from the station who we'll call Loca, because she's one crazy mother. I mean psycho. What I mean by that is she has some weird need to acquire, acquire, acquire. She's a hoarder. The space around her bed in the dorm looks like a cyclone hit. No one else keeps anything around their beds, with the exception of some books or magazines or a picture or two. She also is one of the most ambitous people I've ever met (another means of acquiring more stuff is to make more money). And she hates being a mother. I mean hates it. She comes to work and takes her shoes off and turns her phone off and escapes from her family. She makes no excuses. When her kids whine and ask why she's never home, she just says, "Some people are just better mothers than others, and I'm not one of them." This, to 8, 6 and 5-year olds. Unbelievable. Sometimes she doesn't go straight home after work but over to a friend's house and then lies to her husband about where she's been because she just doesn't want to deal with her kids.

Anyhow, she has one of the nicest husbands in the world. I'm sure he's not perfect and can probably be tough to be with because he has very high standards and ethics and holds himself to a level of excellence to which very few can compete. He is beautiful. His body, amazing. His personality, gentle and warm. He is a dedicated father. And he is married to psycho Loca who just complains about how he cages her in and is dampening her free spirit. Get this, he expects her to come home and take care of their children when he's at work and often when he's home too. What a bastard, huh? Yeah, a real son of a bitch. And he wants her to call and check in during the day or tell him if she's not coming home or what's on her schedule. Again, what a controlling bastard. Who would expect one's wife and the mother of their children to aprise them of their schedule? Anyhow, she's crazy.

So to make a long story longer, Loca sat at one side of the bar last night bashing her lovely man who had disappeared to some far corner, no doubt. She wasn't mad because he wasn't hanging near by, she was mad at him because he didn't put in his application for a promotion. And I quote, "I just wanted to drive him over a cliff," she said in all seriousness and with gusto. Off a cliff! "He's going to lose me someday and then he'll be sorry!" Uhhhh.... yeah, but probably only because of all the incredible debt you're going to stick him with.

So on one side of the room we had lovely drunk Flipper, kissing everyone and showing her breasts and on the other side of the room sat Loca, alone, talking to whoever would listen about driving her husband off a cliff.

I woke up laughing about it all.

So that was my night. I'd better hop to and get in the shower.

Pancake Make Up

Oh, okay, I'll go to the stupid Christmas party...

Festivities

Went to Cirque du Soleil "Corteo" with girlfriends last night. It was visually lovely, but the second act lagged far behind the first, and I quickly wished it would end. Some people gave a standing ovation at the end, but by no means were they in the majority. I suppose it was good to get out, tho.

Tonight is the Station Christmas Party. I'm thinking of playing hookie. My heart is just not in it. I don't want to trudge the 40 miles into the City, pay to park my car, make stupid, meaningless conversation with the retirees I know little and care nothing about, and then watch people get drunk and inappropriate.

Yes, I'm seriously thinking of just sending RacerEx and email and asking if I can have YellowDog tonight instead of tomorrow and then curling up with her on the bed with a movie or a book. I love my dog. I can hardly wait to see her.

I think I'll write to him now.

Gotta go to the gym too.

See ya.

Calvin and His Snowmen

If you can't see them because they're too small, click on them, they enlarge. Made me smile, laugh out loud even. I miss Calvin and Hobbes.

Happy Miser

PB pointed me in the direction of dream interpretation.

You'll all be pleased to know that having a bowel movement in public (in a dream, of course) is a good omen and money is coming my way!

Who'd a thunk it?

New Low

I just spent 20 minutes seaching the Net for and looking at topless pictures of Jennifer Aniston.

I think I'll go upstairs now and get a life. Jeeez!

Dreams -- Rated XXX

CAUTION: this post is not for the squeamish or prudish, as it contains disgusting graphic sexual and fecal images! You've been warned.

* * * *

My sleep pattern has changed of late. Don't know if it's stress or the Wellbutrin, but I'm not sleeping as long or as deeply as I was over the last month or two. Not napping as much, either. I'll take it as a good sign, with the exception of waking up in the middle of the night and having a difficult time getting back to sleep, but perhaps I just need to stay up a little later from now on.

Anyhow, I've been dreaming more, too. I guess that has to do with the fact that I'm not sleeping so heavily. I like to dream, and like even more to remember my dreams. Problem is, my dreams are kind of disturbing lately.

For example, the night before last, I dreamt I was having sex with my mother. Yes, my mother. She was going down on me and had her fingers in me, etc. And I didn't think there was anything wrong with it....until I woke up. Ick! Blech! Ugh! I know part of that dream came from a discussion I had with Rover just before bed, but still....

Last night I dreamt about my old rival Rachel (no pseudonym necessary because she's a long-gone figure from my high-school years). Anyhow, I haven't dreamt about Rachel in god knows how long. Over the years in my dreams, she and I have become friends. I came to terms with her at night, so that was a good thing. Anyhow, last night, Rachel and I picked up our friendship. We were talking about whatever and then she stepped into a curtained room and was naked. I was pleased to finally get to take a look at her body. She pointed to her stomach which had become slightly fat and sagging and talked about getting older, etc. and that it was difficult to keep one's tum in check as one got older. The next thing I know, I'm taking a shower. But I have to take a bowel movement while in the shower and so I push my bowels just ever so slightly. Before I know it, there's shit everywhere. I'm trying desparately to clean up before I'm discovered, but all of a sudden Rachel is standing there with the curtain pulled back looking at me. I apologize, telling her it had been an accident. I'm embarrassed, to be sure. She makes me get out of the shower.

So, again, YUCK! Where did that come from???

The Surface of Things

I don't know how to do the real work. I don't know how to delve below the surface too far. As I told HeadShrinker today, I don't know how to get into my psyche, because my moods, desires and opinions change hourly. She delved into the men I choose: those with very defined and/or rigid ideas of who they are and what path they're on. Also, I choose men who also don't delve into their own psyches. I guess I attach to defined and rigid men because I feel so lacking in structure. I have no set definition of self, so I latch onto men who do. Interesting.

Funny that HeadShrinker does not try to convince me to get away from Rover or tell me that our relationship is unhealthy--and I have tried to be very honest with her about what goes on and has gone on. I wish I could get him in there. It would be so much easier to articulate to him if I had an "interpreter."

RacerEx is lame. It's so difficult to communicate with him. Perhaps I am not clear, but it's as if he doesn't read my complete email. Even if it's short and to the point.

I said I wanted to pick up the dog on Sunday using a key he left behind for me and asked him if he was comfortable with that. Then I said he could retrieve the dog on Monday after he gets off of work using the key he already has, if he still haves it. How does he respond? He tells me he's not going away next weekend and to let him know if I still want the dog this weekend. Arrrrrgh!

There are ants in my house.

I'm gonna go watch T.V. Boob tube. Nite.

Shrink or Swim?

I want a new car, but I'm not sure I can afford the payments. And then I remember that I am paying HeadShrinker $110 per session four times a month. Just about the same as a car payment. Jeez, seems like a pretty obvious choice. Don't feel like I'm getting too much from HeadShrinker laterly, but I guess I should stick with it for a while...

* * * *

RacerEx sent me an email. It said he'd seen Rover and me sitting together in the bar the other night and that he didn't know what to do--come in or go away. He went away. Then he asked me if I'm dating Rover. I told him no. I lied. Not so much for myself or as a strategy to make RacerEx feel better or feel as if I'm available to him, but because I know Rover doesn't want it out yet that he's dating. Technically, he just broke up with Lips a few weeks ago, so I think out of respect for her, I can wait to spread the news around. Besides, I'm not ready either. I'm not sure if I want to go public, now or ever. I need more time to figure out what I'm doing.

It's honestly nice to be communicating with RacerEx again, but it does bring up some questions, issues, mixed emotions. But I'm not going to get sucked in again. I'm not going to put my heart out there for him to stomp on. Nope.

I just want my dog back.