5-7-fuck

The Boy From Dallas
totally consumes my mind
truly, I'm thirteen.

I'd like a milkshake
large, chocolate, if you don't mind
my wide ass thanks you.

House! full of boxes!
the cats hide with my dishes
bruises on my shins

where is my razor?
a week gone! had to buy new.
alas, in a box

ah, desperation
has its own stale aroma
it smells like haiku

Dudes

Dear Men -

Let me say something before I start - I LOVE men. I am unabashedly heterosexual. I don't always understand y'all, but I love y'all. Physically, emotionally, psychologically. I even love the cute little Male Ego, frustrating fucker that he is. Love - nothin' but man-love over here. But not in the gay porn sense...heh.

That being said - what in the ever-lovin' blue-eyed fuck is wrong with y'all??

For a while there, the only boy I could get to pay any attention to me was the Ex. And I'm not over here, all sad because I can't get a man, 'cause lord knows that despite the love, sometimes I'm real fuckin' happy I'm single. But a girl likes to have a beer with a cute boy now and then. And a girl likes to get laid from time to time, not to put too fine a point on it.

So now, there's The Boy From Dallas. The distance is an issue, but other than that, things are going along swimmingly. He's coming down to see me tomorrow, he has a 4 on/4 off work schedule which gives us ample visit time to work with, turns out he is as interested in me as I am in him, it's good.

Great, right?

But now! Now, you guys are coming out of the fucking woodwork. Boys that I chased who ignored me, the ex who said last weekend that he didn't want to have anything to do with me again, what the fuck?

Is it the old thing that once you're feeling happy, you look more attractive? Or is it that pheromone thing where you can tell I've had sex recently (not that recently, waah) and you're all wound up by it? What is it?? Tell me, please. I'd like to understand this one.

'Cause right now, y'all are getting on my nerves and the love is starting to wane just a little bit.

Oh, don't look at me like that - you know that you'll offer me a beer instead of a hug the next time I start crying and I'll fall in love all over again with your goofy ways.

Damn.

Laura

Wherein I Ramble Like a Great Lost Rambly Thing

First order of business, I've been asked, by Slick himself, to change Slick's pseudonym. He prefers Malkey, which is the Scottish word for a head butt, which should give you an idea of what I'm dealing with over here.

The man can actually carry off a kilt. I'm sayin'.

Anyway - Malkey it is. I don't like that name as much, because it makes me think of Balkey, which makes me think of Bronson Pinchot, which EW. But hey - whatever makes him happy.

I do this odd thing in relationships. I act a lot like I don't trust the person I'm with. And it's not that - I'm actaully a stupidly trusting person. Really, it's a wonder I'm not trying to trap a poodle from the bottom of a pit at this point. But I don't tend to trust people's feelings for me - I'm never really sure that I'm worth all the effort or interest, that if they like ME there must be something wrong, or that if they do something cool for me, it's for ME, therefore can't be that big of a deal. Sad...sad sad sad.

Oh man, I'm watching "Casino" and it's the part why the guy spits in the sandwich and dudes, y'all don't know how hard I have to shove down my paranoia in order to ever eat anything that I didn't cook. Gah.

So. The Boy. Siiiiiiigh. It's just disgusting. I fall way to hard and fast an easy. But y'know, it's not like I fall for every single guy I ever meet. Really! I don't! I went on other dates! Bad dates!

Ok, that's not entirely true - I went on mostly good dates just with boring guys. One guy works in concert security and got me into the VIP area of Stubb's to see the Violent Femmes. (I KNOW!!) Beer was free all night, the show rocked, we had good conversation, I thought things went well, aaaaaand...no phone call. Now, because of his job, he was going out of town soon and blah blah blah - but dude? Cell phones don't work in Chicago? Whatever. So I wrote that one off as good experience and The Time I Got To See The Violent Femmes And Dude, Why Didn't I Listen To Them In The 80's??

And then there was gigged frog guy. Nice, very smart, very funny, went to see the Mister Sinus of Showgirls and then to Pete's Piano Bar. Biggest problem there was that when he was relaxed and walking around? Total mouth-breather gigged frog look on his face. I almost couldn't look at him. But! He didn't call me! How rude! I should have not called him first! Wait. Ok, that one was apparently mutual.

Let's see...Oh god, there was the salesguy who just needed to shut.the.hell.up.already. Good lord. I'm already here and I'm on my second beer. It's either because you're funny enough to keep me interested, or I'm trying to drown you out with sweet sweet alcohol. Either way?? SHUT UP.

So yes. Malkey (HEE). Met online, chatted, talked on the phone a LOT, met in person and wow.

Yes! Yes! YEEEES!!! PROJECT RUNWAY STARTS JULY 12TH!!!! WHOOOOO!!

Let's review. Cute (Jane, Laura and a few co-workers can attest to this), funny as hell, smart, gets my sense of humor, has three cats and talks to them and for them in funny voices. You just won't believe how much fun it is to have someone segue from singing "Die Motherfucker" under their breath to chanting "Harold! Haaarold, come here! I love you!!" then go back to the song. Oh, and we click in some other pretty important ways. (Insert raised eyebrow here.)

Back to the point of this...how my insecurity makes me just a little stupid. The man texts me all the time (aaah, texting - how did we court without it??) drove to Austin to see me, and most importantly says things like "I miss you." And yet, I'm over here trying to convince myself that he can't possibly be as interested as I am.

I love Robert DeNiro's character in "Casino" - "...an equal amount of blueberries in each muffin!!" HA!!

And I know why - it's not just insecurity, it's also a safety net. If I convince myself that he's not as interested in me as I am in him, then if something goes wrong, it doesn't hurt as badly - right?? Yeah...right. I know, I know.

I was at a Cuban restaurant once (ironically enough, with the Ex, post divorce) and there were a whole bunch of pictures and framed articles and such on the wall by/about this one artist. Anyway, one of them had something about "loving wastefully" on it. I like that idea. I like the idea of loving so much that it's "wasteful." I don't think I've ever done that. I've always held back, afraid that even a nice gesture will "bother" someone. Feh.

Oh - in other news, I'm moving next weekend - whoo! Place is about the same size, but in a better school district and closer to work. It's also SHADED, which means I won't sit here with the air conditioner set to fucking 85 degrees because I honestly can't get it any cooler in here no matter what and anything else is a waste of money and gaaah! Send ice packs and Diet Coke!!!

Holy Lame Updates Batman!!

Wow. A little over a month since my last update. Let's see.....

The "tools at hand" (new meds and therapy) are working quite well. I don't feel quite so much like I'm being swallowed by a giant angry black cloud. Which is nice, as I'm sure you can imagine.

The past month, what's happened??

In no particular order, I hung out a bunch with the ex, and as a result had several fights with the Ex. Despite the good qualities that kept me with him for 14 years, somehow the bullshit that we're both capable of creeps up and reminds me of why I left him after 14 years. So, yeah...I think that ship may have finally sailed, 'cause lord knows I can't do this shit anymore. I am officially too old.

I celebrated my 35th birthday. It was a tad bit anti-climactic, but it did involve some Mexican martinis and Jenna Jameson's autobiography and a $100 James Avery gift card.

I met a few boys, went out on a few dates, some good, some laaaaaaaame.

I met another boy who I like a great deal, but he lives in Dallas. Feh.

I found a new apartment and kiddo and I move on the 17th. Anybody in the central Texas area free that weekend?? I'll pay in breakfast goodies and pizza!! [winning smile inserted here]

So yeah - of all of that, I think you can all guess that The Boy From Dallas is what I really want to write about. I need a pseudonym for him. I know he'd have his own ideas, but this isn't his blog, is it? Ha!

Slick. I dub him Slick.

Ok, so. Slick and I met on Myspace. Yes, I am over the age of 17, kiss my ass. I've actually met more interesting people on Myspace than on Match. Kiddo's explanation for this is that Match is full of desperate white men. I gotta kind of agree with her there.

Laura, honey? Why are you only meeting people on the internet?? Well - because I'm a social retard and I like emailing a few times before I talk to you. Something about knowing that you can write in a complete sentence before I get drunk in your presence. Wait, you expect me to have an internet date without alcohol? BWAHAHHAHAHA! Seriously - what the hell sles is the internet good for, other than settling bets and giving strangers an excuse to drink together. May I continue?

Slick responded to my profile, which I noticed a lot of guys did when I had the cleavage pic up.

By the way, young men of Myspace? I don't have a single problem in the world with younger men. I figure age, much like clothes size, is just a number. However, if you can't be bothered to find the shift key or the comma when writing a sentence, I have to assume you can't be bothered to find the clitoris either, therefore no, I'm not interested. Thanks though.

Anyway - cleavage pic, big scary guy with scary stuff on his profile responded, I went ahead and wrote back because his message was actually reasonably intelligent. We started messaging and then chatting and then talking on the phone. And he's smart! And funny! And has a great phone voice! And three cats! OH MY GOD.

so I went to Beaumont on Saturday for one of Sport's games (they lost, very sad) and then on Sunday I took I45 up to Dallas. I didn't feel like going home, what??

We met, we clicked. And we clicked some more, and I ended up getting home sometime around midnight on Monday. Heh.

He's coming down this weekend for the ROTRally. Y'all know I'm just a bg ol' biker slut. I'm sort of stupidly excited about this guy coming to visit me. I hate getting all wound up about a boy, because it happens so easily because I'm a big ol' goob, but I just can't help it. It seems like he just might like me back. Whoo!

Anyway - yes, there's a boy and he's my typical broad-shouldered, blue-eyed eclectic weirdo. I think I should start a charm bracelet or something.

Sigh.

I really do like this one. Dallas. Damn.

I, Laura, do hereby promise to update more often. I think I just needed a break. I love you guys.