The shoes make their first appearance, originally uploaded by Limorama.

I know this is a late posting, but I’m attributing that to a) the 8 second delay and b) being busy finishing my application stuff. This is what 10HRDG and I did for valentine’s day.

We had discussed going out to test drive cars, but didn’t end up having enough daylight for that. Instead we went back to the scene of the crime. We went back to the place where we first went out. (I know, puke, right?)

It was actually pretty cute. Maybe it’s my perception, but I didn’t and don’t feel like we’re over the top with the shmoopy-ness or anything. I mean don’t get me wrong, we are a lot more affectionate when our friends aren’t around, but I’d like to think that in public we’re pretty good at containing ourselves.

He cooked me dinner after, a family recipe at that. It was good. It was a super nice day, we basically just chilled out most of the day. I’m getting less and less scared to admit it, I like him. I’m actually beginning to let my guard down a little around him. I hope I’m right in thinking he’ll stick around for awhile.

My cat is back again.  Not by his own will though.

Friday I am getting ready to go to Potluck Shabbat at the Real Jew’s place (more on that later) and someone rings my doorbell.  It is a girl, probably in her early teens, asking if I have a cat named Louis.  I said I had a cat but he had been missing.  Her mom was in the car.  They said that they had been trying to reach me (I’d been home almost every night that week I guess they came up to the house because my car was in the driveway.).

For the last 9 months (since his disappearance) he has been around the neighborhood.  People on the street had been feeding him.  About a week ago they noticed he wasn’t eating and he had an abscess.   Rather than look for the cat’s owner they took him to the emergency vet and spent $144 on him.  Then they took him to a vet because it was determined that he would need surgery for a bad tooth (another $80).   They estimated that the tooth extraction would cost another $300.  I asked if they wanted to keep the cat.  If he was happy there they could have him.  The girl is allergic to cats so they couldn’t keep him.

They left and came back with the cat.  He looked ok.  They gave me the info for the vet visits along with his food, antibiotics, and cat litter.  They left me with two moral dilemmas.  1)  Do I pay back the people who took my cat to the vet without asking me first?  The people who were foolish enough to provide care for a cat that they had no intention of keeping? 2)  Do I take my cat in for surgery that could potentially kill him (he’s about 12,  anesthetizing a cat of that age is risky)?

This weekend has been rough.  Having my cat in the house is like letting a boy who dumped you move in because he has been evicted.

I’ve been going through some stressful crap lately.  Not even “On a Boat” could make me feel better. Yesterday I had a meltdown complete with uncontrollable crying, hyperventalation and puking (just like Meg and her husband).  Not good.    I ended up heading to hang out with the “fam” because I knew that they would look after me and give me xanax if necessary. They fed me. They made me laugh.  We caught up on the Office and Grey’s Anatomy.  I felt a little better.

Why was I reading that book, you ask?

I had originally planned to read it because of the upcoming film release. The other reason is because Keely had recommended it to me ages ago and I ignored her advice.

Anyways,  the book was a quick read and in a few hours I learned the sick, sad truth.  I have never been in a relationship with or dated someone who was into me.  That’s right, NEVER.  I have the journal entries to prove it.  My cat also falls into the same category.

So what now?  Apparently I am going to have to suck it up and deal with the painful truth. Even if being alone sucks,  it is better than being with some emotionally stunted/unavailable fucktard.  The book definitely didn’t offer the promises of Obama.  Nowhere did it offer hope.  It merely reminded you that there are more women than men on the planet and that most of those men were completely losers.  As far as change goes, it did promote a change in attitude/behavior for the ladies.

Good question.  I suppose I have a few more days to formulate a different answer.

With Obama at the nations helm, I suppose I too am looking for change.

A change in attitude (much needed)

A change in outlook (maybe a little less judging and pessimistic)

It’s time to pick myself up, dust myself off and begin the work of remaking me.

Me 2.0

That’s what I am looking for.

Stronger, Faster, maybe with that rhino heart…

There are way too many times in my life where I have flashbacks of grade school gym class. Most people would agree that gym was not a highlight in their academic career.

I had a discussion with a friend of mine and my love/hate relationship with dating.  Apparently I go through phases of feast or famine.  There is no happy medium.  I am either all in or I want nothing to do with men.   I let the conversation end there.  I couldn’t actually go through with what I am about to write now.

I wanted to ask if he knew what it was like being picked last in gym.  That’s what it has felt like my entire life.  I was the girl that no one asked out on a date.  I was the girl who almost didn’t go to prom (I ended up asking a friend).  I was the girl who didn’t have her first kiss until she was 21.  So what do you do when you are the kid that is picked last or not at all?  You do your own thing.  You start your own game or you sit on the sidelines. Or in my case, you say that you have band practice and you use your fake hall pass to get the hell out of there.  I spent a lot of time in the band hallway and not in gym.

I was tired of sitting on the sidelines with the whole dating thing.  That’s why I got off my ass and started asking people out. Unfortunately rejection once again reminds me of gym class.  Hence my love/hate relationship with dating.  That’s why I can do it for awhile and then I just need to take a break before I have an emotional breakdown.  A person can only take that much rejection.

More proof that I am a big dork.  I was on a date not too long ago and asked that question.  We were in his apartment and he was going to show me something on youtube.  I felt quite at home (like I was hanging out with one of my peeps) and it just slipped out when he booted up the computer.   After I realized what I said I wanted to crawl under the futon.  Apparently it didn’t even phase him.  He said that he was running Ubuntu. Then we continued to chat about computers and music.

I suppose it’s a good thing that I felt comfortable enough with this guy that I unleashed my inner geek early on (now that I think of it, I’ve meantioned coding and my love of SXSW interactive in front of him so it probably wasn’t a shock that I was a believer in open source software). 

From wikipedia - Train wreck at Gare Montparnasse, Paris, France, 1895

… you just have to stop and stare for a minute or so.  Like when you see someone wearing something from AA (Seriously, leotards are for mannequins and Jane Fonda only.  Ok, maybe for a workout, NOT for wearing in public.).

Am I evil for scanning the internet?  What if I were looking for things that  may have made me appreciate my life more? [btw, freedom is priceless] I could be childish and say that many other friends admitted doing the same.  If I am not the only one doing it, is it really that bad? [Don't you dare comment, "...if your friends jumped off a cliff, would you?"... The answer may be yes. I've always had the Thelma and Louise ending at the top of my list for ways to go]

I am not going to admit what information I/we were looking for. Besides, it’s their own fault for leaving that sort of information just lying around for google to find.

It is Saturday night and I am stuck inside.  Sick (damned allergies).  So, what is there to do but surf the internet.  Tonight’s google search led me to my past.  I had to go in search of an ex to find the pictures from my Hawaii vacation in 2003. I am bad at remembering to take pictures.  That job has always fallen to someone else (I really do appreciate the fact that M captures so much, even if it is my bad skin in Hi-def.)

The trip was supposed to be a girl’s vacation.  A trip to visit my best friend (and best roommate EVER).  He decided to crash the trip (yet another story). Anyways, in my internet trolling I found out that he is very much unlike me (hence the break up).  He didn’t erase all traces of me (I jettisoned almost all traces of the 2.5 years we were together).  The pictures are all there.  That meant I could find the pictures from that trip.

Recovered Hawaii vacation photo by an Ex-boyfriend. Hunama Bay- Jan 2003. This is the warning sign for the "Toilet Bowl"

But alas, with all internet trolling comes information.  I was reminded of the movie High Fidelity.  The part where John Cusak wants to look up all his exes.   I will admit that I do that periodically.    I think there is truth in the practice of looking back to move forward.

My Selfless Father, originally uploaded by Limorama.

I don’t know if you can see it in this pic, but these are the heels of the bread.  This was my dad’s sandwich for lunch today.  I’ll explain, just keep reading.

I’ve been saying for quite some time how much my parents are my heroes. This was just one little thing that I noticed today. He was making sandwiches for us, and ran out of bread, all but the ends. So, being that he’s so selfless and puts all of us in front of him, he made his out of the heels. I thought it was an awesome gesture that I’m sure I’ve seen before but this time I actually noticed, and thought about it.

That’s just the way he is. My mom is like that too, just a little more vocal about it. He’s so stoic and quiet about stuff, but you don’t get the sense that he doesn’t care. He’s just listening and taking it in. I want to be more like my father. Hell, I want to be more like both of my parents.

It was just a tiny little thing, saving the good parts for us. He’s always been like that, saving the fish cheeks for me. Maybe it’s because I’m growing up a little more, but I’m noticing these things more. I hope I never stop seeing this. This small act pretty much sums up my dad on a basic level; really good at taking care of his family, and always making sure they have the very best of what ever he’s able to provide. I know I got all sappy on here on Thanksgiving, but this is *that* time of year that I start thinking about all that stuff.

Yep, thanks Dad. You’ve had such a fundamental impact on the person I am and who I hope to become someday.