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It's three o'clock in the goddamn morning, and I am, unfortunately WIDE FUCKING AWAKE.
This is unfortunate because unlike what had become my usual state of reality since, oh, April or so, I actually have someone to go to bed cuddled up to (in fact, I'm listening to him snore in the other room) and kinda want to enjoy the hell out of that, but what would happen if I went to bed now would be several hours of me staring into blank black space. Stupid afternoon nap when it got too hot to think earlier. I suppose I could work, but the lappy is acting up with a vengeance tonight. Seriously... is someone reading this that happens to be in the valley willing to spend a couple hours taking this stupid thing apart and seeing if a stern talking to will make the video card not full of horrendous fail for longer than ten minutes? I mean, yeah, any tech worth their salt is going to tell me to replace this goddamn thing but a) I like this lappy (It's like Strong Bad's - horrendously out of date but I love it anyway) and b) can't quite afford a brandy new one at this juncture.
So here I am, pulling a random stream of consciousness out of my head instead. Apologies to my flists.
I have come to realize that I am absolutely fucking clueless about people being, well, interested in me. It was pointed out to me after the fact that someone had been rather mesmerized by my boobs at a small social shindig I was at today and I completely did not notice, which is rather epic because from the account I later got, the staring was prolonged, concentrated and blatent enough that the staring party got The Look from his girlfriend. Powers of Oblivious, to me! There is also someone I've been running into on occasion that I'm trying to figure out whether they are actually interested or just being flirty, but I'm never brave/tipsy enough to actually ask. And somehow when the interest is made obvious to me in a way that I can't rationalize as anything else, it always comes as a damn surprise. X person wants to get to know me/shag me/stare at me/what have you me? What? Really? Really? Me? Holy fuck, why?
Before you point out the obvious, why yes, I do have some rather interesting self-esteem issues. I'm well aware of this. I'm also well aware that it maybe had a lot to do with why most of my relationships (romantic and otherwise) were and are screwed up, why I'm irrationally shy in certain situations, why I live in fear of looking stupid or getting an answer wrong unless I'm completely comfortable with people around me. And yeah... like most of my fantastic matched set of head-baggage, I'm a little tired of it. I sort of resolved tonight that I need to live less in my own head (and by extension the internet - yes, this makes sense, but I couldn't tell you why, lol) and more time living out loud where everyone can see it.
Girls. Women really these days because looking at people born later than the year I entered fourth grade just makes me want to get up and do the pedobear dance on general principle (THE reason why I'm so glad the office is no longer down the hill from Smith. Well, that and Smith being a fancy brick castled monument to everything I've colossally failed at in life, lol). I still love you. All the curves, cleavage, the sway of hip as you walk away, calves round and muscley enough to nibble on, the way you smell and smile and feel when I hug you. Especially the kind of women I tend to love, who are built like me (well padded and strong) and yet somehow it's a build that's delcious on everyone else but makes me bite my lip in annoyance when I see it in the mirror. The brain, it is a warped thing. Based on looks alone, yeah, I'd totally date me. I'm exactly my type, and yet somehow, since it's me, and not the pretty gal I saw walking in Amherst during the Stress and Angst cha cha yestersday (and she was yummy and cute and her smile briefly lit up my afternoon), it bothers fuck all out of me, being all chubby and shit. Ye gods, how warped is that?
I am faced, for the first time that I can remember (which is a damn long time) with a blank slate of a future, and I'm not sure what I want to fill all that space with. It is much like what happens to me after groceries have been purchased and put away, which is I open the refrigerator looking for a snack and there are OH GOD TOO MANY CHOICES and I end up losing my appetite. (yes, this happens.) The reason this isn't a bad thing is that for once, the refrigerator is mine and all the stuff in the freezer and in the fridge is shit I picked out and like - no one's rancid mold cheese or pickled herring or low fat tv dinner or no caffiene no sugar soda or gross vegetables like zucchini to contend with here. Any choice I make will be mine. I mean, granted the choices I had always were mine, but I'd gotten so into the habit of deferring to what everyone else wanted at my own expense that realizing that I don't have to do that anymore is goddamn clouds parting rays of sunshine choirs of angels singing level of revelatory. So yeah, the fridge is still kinda packed to intimidation point, but I still have options... and I have an inkling of what I want to make for dinner, if not what to nibble on right now. And with that, the metaphor has been stretched to snapping point. But yeah... once everything gets settled, I need to get back down to brass tacks and create shit again. Not even sure what, but something. I want to write, I want to dance, I've got so many beading projects planned it's sick. I want to start the Thursday 13 back up. I want to seriously buckle down and write something to completion and then get it out there somehow because I've dreamed of getting something published since I was 11 (ask![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
harinezumi about Go Figure Boys sometime). I want to fucking pick my violin back up. It's like I want to do everything again. I want to learn how to live out loud again, because I completely forgot how, and I've been so consumed with other people's drama and escaping into the Interbutts that it never occurred to me that I could. Yeah fuck that. I know I can't do absolutely everything - after I get this apartment and a few other things paid for once and for all, I'm not going to be able to buy anything fun for like a year. But I can pick one thing, start that, and go with it.
And... I don't know if it's the most important thing, but it does take up a good bit of my attention and squee: when everything is kinda said and done, I have someone who gets kinda more and more awesome every day and who will gladly glomp on me when I crawl into bed at the end of the day, whisper that he loves me into my ear, and then quite happily snore into my shoulder for the rest of the night. I still sometimes think he's a little insane for falling in love with me, but it's an insanity I'm quite grateful for... and lets face it, I'm just as crazy as he is in this department so I can't exactly blame him. Anyway.... I don't generally consider myself a lucky person, but in this particular case, with him showing up exactly when he did... yeah, even I get to have one freak winning hand once in a while. He just might be a goddamned royal flush. ;)
Speaking of which... that whole "*glomp*zzzzzzz" thing is sounding really good finally. Off to give that whole sleeping thing a try.
This is unfortunate because unlike what had become my usual state of reality since, oh, April or so, I actually have someone to go to bed cuddled up to (in fact, I'm listening to him snore in the other room) and kinda want to enjoy the hell out of that, but what would happen if I went to bed now would be several hours of me staring into blank black space. Stupid afternoon nap when it got too hot to think earlier. I suppose I could work, but the lappy is acting up with a vengeance tonight. Seriously... is someone reading this that happens to be in the valley willing to spend a couple hours taking this stupid thing apart and seeing if a stern talking to will make the video card not full of horrendous fail for longer than ten minutes? I mean, yeah, any tech worth their salt is going to tell me to replace this goddamn thing but a) I like this lappy (It's like Strong Bad's - horrendously out of date but I love it anyway) and b) can't quite afford a brandy new one at this juncture.
So here I am, pulling a random stream of consciousness out of my head instead. Apologies to my flists.
I have come to realize that I am absolutely fucking clueless about people being, well, interested in me. It was pointed out to me after the fact that someone had been rather mesmerized by my boobs at a small social shindig I was at today and I completely did not notice, which is rather epic because from the account I later got, the staring was prolonged, concentrated and blatent enough that the staring party got The Look from his girlfriend. Powers of Oblivious, to me! There is also someone I've been running into on occasion that I'm trying to figure out whether they are actually interested or just being flirty, but I'm never brave/tipsy enough to actually ask. And somehow when the interest is made obvious to me in a way that I can't rationalize as anything else, it always comes as a damn surprise. X person wants to get to know me/shag me/stare at me/what have you me? What? Really? Really? Me? Holy fuck, why?
Before you point out the obvious, why yes, I do have some rather interesting self-esteem issues. I'm well aware of this. I'm also well aware that it maybe had a lot to do with why most of my relationships (romantic and otherwise) were and are screwed up, why I'm irrationally shy in certain situations, why I live in fear of looking stupid or getting an answer wrong unless I'm completely comfortable with people around me. And yeah... like most of my fantastic matched set of head-baggage, I'm a little tired of it. I sort of resolved tonight that I need to live less in my own head (and by extension the internet - yes, this makes sense, but I couldn't tell you why, lol) and more time living out loud where everyone can see it.
Girls. Women really these days because looking at people born later than the year I entered fourth grade just makes me want to get up and do the pedobear dance on general principle (THE reason why I'm so glad the office is no longer down the hill from Smith. Well, that and Smith being a fancy brick castled monument to everything I've colossally failed at in life, lol). I still love you. All the curves, cleavage, the sway of hip as you walk away, calves round and muscley enough to nibble on, the way you smell and smile and feel when I hug you. Especially the kind of women I tend to love, who are built like me (well padded and strong) and yet somehow it's a build that's delcious on everyone else but makes me bite my lip in annoyance when I see it in the mirror. The brain, it is a warped thing. Based on looks alone, yeah, I'd totally date me. I'm exactly my type, and yet somehow, since it's me, and not the pretty gal I saw walking in Amherst during the Stress and Angst cha cha yestersday (and she was yummy and cute and her smile briefly lit up my afternoon), it bothers fuck all out of me, being all chubby and shit. Ye gods, how warped is that?
I am faced, for the first time that I can remember (which is a damn long time) with a blank slate of a future, and I'm not sure what I want to fill all that space with. It is much like what happens to me after groceries have been purchased and put away, which is I open the refrigerator looking for a snack and there are OH GOD TOO MANY CHOICES and I end up losing my appetite. (yes, this happens.) The reason this isn't a bad thing is that for once, the refrigerator is mine and all the stuff in the freezer and in the fridge is shit I picked out and like - no one's rancid mold cheese or pickled herring or low fat tv dinner or no caffiene no sugar soda or gross vegetables like zucchini to contend with here. Any choice I make will be mine. I mean, granted the choices I had always were mine, but I'd gotten so into the habit of deferring to what everyone else wanted at my own expense that realizing that I don't have to do that anymore is goddamn clouds parting rays of sunshine choirs of angels singing level of revelatory. So yeah, the fridge is still kinda packed to intimidation point, but I still have options... and I have an inkling of what I want to make for dinner, if not what to nibble on right now. And with that, the metaphor has been stretched to snapping point. But yeah... once everything gets settled, I need to get back down to brass tacks and create shit again. Not even sure what, but something. I want to write, I want to dance, I've got so many beading projects planned it's sick. I want to start the Thursday 13 back up. I want to seriously buckle down and write something to completion and then get it out there somehow because I've dreamed of getting something published since I was 11 (ask
harinezumi about Go Figure Boys sometime). I want to fucking pick my violin back up. It's like I want to do everything again. I want to learn how to live out loud again, because I completely forgot how, and I've been so consumed with other people's drama and escaping into the Interbutts that it never occurred to me that I could. Yeah fuck that. I know I can't do absolutely everything - after I get this apartment and a few other things paid for once and for all, I'm not going to be able to buy anything fun for like a year. But I can pick one thing, start that, and go with it. And... I don't know if it's the most important thing, but it does take up a good bit of my attention and squee: when everything is kinda said and done, I have someone who gets kinda more and more awesome every day and who will gladly glomp on me when I crawl into bed at the end of the day, whisper that he loves me into my ear, and then quite happily snore into my shoulder for the rest of the night. I still sometimes think he's a little insane for falling in love with me, but it's an insanity I'm quite grateful for... and lets face it, I'm just as crazy as he is in this department so I can't exactly blame him. Anyway.... I don't generally consider myself a lucky person, but in this particular case, with him showing up exactly when he did... yeah, even I get to have one freak winning hand once in a while. He just might be a goddamned royal flush. ;)
Speaking of which... that whole "*glomp*zzzzzzz" thing is sounding really good finally. Off to give that whole sleeping thing a try.
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no subject
Date: 2009-08-16 08:41 am (UTC)From:I get it.
I get it, I get it, I get it. Especially the constant, effulgent revelation of space, of freedom and options, of pushing through the overwhelm to focus on what would be, could be, nourishing to body and soul. And the urge to create. Yeah. And letting go of what isn't working, or what one doesn't want to do, crafty, in life, otherwise.
no subject
Date: 2009-08-17 02:22 pm (UTC)From:SOOPER VERY FAMILIAR WITH THIS FEELING OH YES. Dealing with it right now as I clear out some of my own old mental condiments and find that the new arrangement works just that much better.