ok. So

Yeah, so.

I am disappointed.  I don't know how else to describe what I am feeling.  But he's the asshole, right? So why let him make me feel bad?  And what is that (stupid) saying?  Something like, no one can make you feel something that you don't give them permission to make you feel. ?  Huh?  
Whatever - it's me choosing to feel disappointed, right?

Ok, so.  I'm trying the stupid internet fat-girl dating site.  And I swear! there are at least 90% scammers on there.  And this last one . . . I've had my guard up but he was taking so long and being nice and talking about god, etc.  So I started to believe that he was nice.  What a fucking joke!
Tonight, he asked for me to "borrow" some money to him.  Yeah.  Fucking fucker with the fucked-up understanding of fucking English.

Hmph.  So.  Here I am.  Trying for real, finally, to take a step forward and attempt to live my life and fully experience the human condition.  And here are these stupid asses trying to cheat fat women out of their money.  Like fat = gullible = stupid and trusting and, apparently, rich.
 
And... as I am writing this, I have to laugh (almost).  This is part of the human condition, isn't it?  You put yourself out there and some of the people are assholes and maybe there are more assholes than not.  And if you are really lucky (or destined, whatever) you find the one diamond in the rough, right?

Ok.  So.

Now what, exactly?  I'll keep trying I guess.

Where to start?

Any ideas?

Too much

So, I guess that internet dating site sees when you are at the site, for whatever reason. And the more you are on the site, the higher it puts you as a search result.
?
Is this true?
Because all of a sudden my inbox is blowing up! Too many! Too many!
All with the ever-present Eww! and Yuck!

Maybe I should just remove my profile because, let's be honest, I'm in no shape to start a relationship.
______________

On a different topic, and I know it is too soon, I am feeling much better. Yes, yes. I *know* that it is too soon for the new medicine to work. And I am just having an "ok" day which I have anyway, from time to time.
But I am worried that I am having high blood sugar and that I am developing diabetes. I have been getting dizzy - for no reason, and then getting nauseated - for no reason. Oooh, and let's not forget - oops, already forgot. (OOPS! ALREADY FORGOT!!!)

Well. I have no idea what I was going to write there. Moving on.

Anyway, I'm going to start checking my sugar and see where I stand. Really, not looking forward to that. I did look online and a couple of different sites read that if you exercise, eat right and shed a couple of extra pounds, you can effectively stave off diabetes.
So here's hoping!

-Electricity. E-lec-tri city

So. Hi! My daily wrap up is gonna come early because guess who doesn't have electricity at her abode today? That would be me. Did you guess me? Cause you are soo smart!

I have NOT made a list of things I want. That list is supposed to help push me in the right direction. Although, I suspect that there will really only be a couple of things on that list.

-Stuff like:
***Get healthy -- be thin.
***Travel more.
***Spend time with family and friends.
***Get a sex life. (whoops! tmi?)
***Enjoy self more -- stop stressing little things.

Huh. That wasn't so hard. I think that is my list, honestly.
The "sex life" thing would have to be in the confines of a loving relationship, but still. It's a goal, right? OOOH. I just realized I put "enjoy self more" under "sex life." I guess that's one way to go about it. Heeee.

------

We are staying in the motel again tonight. So I'm off to buy shampoo because Imma not gonna go to our back-woods hovel just to pick up shampoo. Spending spree it is!
Also: I was going to make dinner tonight. I guess we'll have to eat out again. Oh, darn! (Actually, a simple meal was sounding good to me. Oh, well.)

Ugh! Sugar! Sweet Goddess

Sickness.

Or headache.

Actually, I think it is sickness. I ate some sugar. After how long trying to kick it (again)? I’m like a fucking alcoholic, without the support group. I guess I could go to OA (for those of you with no addictions—the “A” is always for “Anonymous” and, in this case, the “O” is for “Overeaters.”) At OA, they do not allow you to have white flour, sugar, and something else… I can’t remember from my foray into getting a support group 10 some-odd years ago.

Fucking tasted good though. And it was nasty fucking chocolate. The kind of chocolate I wouldn’t deign to eat, if I were eating chocolate. But since I’m not, and haven’t been, I ate it and it was de-lish!

Moving on.

Confession.

BF bought me 2 (not so) lovely couches on the weekend. (Mental note: do not forget to give him $$.) Weren’t expensive—1 full-size and 1 loveseat (not matching) for 30 bucks. Not bad. Not bad. But they weren’t v attractive. Actually, they weren’t that bad. But the wrong colors and styles for what I would have in mind.
Why would he purchase couches for me, you might ask. Funny story. My new puppy has been having really good snacks of my $50 sectional and my $0 (yeah, that’s right-free!) comfy couch. So he purchased these new couches. . . and she started in on the ugly one. Ripped off the skirt—or at least what I’m calling the skirt, that bottom part that hides the legs. I looked at it, and was all *&%*!! and $*%&#$!! But then stopped. It looked soo much better. J Seriously, I like the couch now. I’ve ripped off the rest of the skirt—threw it away (no evidence) and now have to decide if I’m going to spill the beans to BF or not.

Geek

I just wrote my first fan e-mail.
It was to Mark Morford, writer for the SF Gate.

It went a little something like this:

“I am sorry to learn that you have a partner, because I think I love you.
Thanks.

From someone who really needed it.”

I was seriously crying. Talk about a Horoscope and the universe giving you what you need. Apparently I was crying out…and the universe answered.
Thank Goddess. Thank you.

Hours tick by. Or do they?

Day One without My Beloved.

sugar

Ok. Here we go again kids. Trying to kick the juice, the junk, the dope, the lightening. The Sugar.

Hour Two.

Actually, I’ve been up a little more than two hours. . . but who’s counting. Oh, that’s right, I am.
I am depressed and weepy. I tell myself not to despair. Nothing ever comes from despairing—nothing, nothing ever gets done. And it’s true.
Did you see Scarlet O’Hara despair? No. She decided she was too busy trying to fix things, trying to save the beloved Tara, trying not to starve, trying to keep her family from starving. She just didn’t have time to despair.
And it helps. (Telling myself that.) Oh, and also I’ve been telling myself that it’s just coming off of the juice, the smack, the sugar that is making my emotions so . . . volatile. And it could be true. What it really feels like is going insane. And not so slowly. Kinda quick, so you notice it is happening. “Why am I behaving like this?” You ask yourself. “Why, I don’t know. Perhaps it’s the sugar. Perhaps you are insane.” You answer yourself rationally. Heh. Rationally. Answer yourself.

I watched a lovely movie last night. I Capture the Castle. Lovely young women: English and poor. Lovely young, rich American men (and one was Henry Thomas... makes me kinda glad he survived ET). OK SPOILER. So, the lovely young woman, our heroine.. winds up with.. well, not nothing.. . and not alone, she has taken care of her family. But not with the object of her affection. And the end of the movie (my hand to gawd) she says, “I love. I have loved. I will love.” Fade to Black. Fuck. What the hell. Ok, great. But that’s why I watch movies. I need a mother-fucking, even-if-it-makes-no-sense, twisted plot, don’t-care-how, HAPPY ENDING. Need it. Like I need to breathe. And so yeah, a little hope, but not really happiness. And I’ve discovered in my pitiable life that HOPE kills you every time. Every time. Obliterates you. Crushes your soul. Kills your spirit. Makes you waltz then sticks out its big, rude foot and purposely trips you. So you fall on your face, in the most dramatic, theatrical, humiliating, public way, ever.

What am I complaining for? Well. After that and I just wanted to cry, I got on my newly returned, fixed computer. (Moment of silence and reverence for the COMPUTER.) And I checked my horoscope. And it was all.. You have had to relive part of stuff you thought you already handled, but didn’t (and pushed deep into your subconscious, you pathetic idiot. And will now wake up out of a very real dream and cry inexplicably for an hour whilst you are overcome with sadness and deep, deep, hidden trauma) and now that you’ve re-dealt with those aspects, move on and push your boundaries. Made complete and total sense. [Now I know that these are vague. And allow for various interpretations, but seriously, folks, how do they do it??? And as I write this… this is what they’ve written:
“Circumstances in your life may be full of drama and you'll need to use all channels of communication to share your story with those around you. Although you can be putting on quite an impressive show, you may not realize that you are only telling part of the story. Your beliefs are coloring your perceptions more than usual and you can only see what you believe.”
So here I am thinking I am giving myself therapy, and hopefully entertaining people. But I’m not being totally honest, with myself or with you, dear reader. Fuckers calling me a liar. But I digress.]

Soooo, anyway…I felt really sad. And I did a little (expensive) tarot reading (but considering they gave me the credits for free, wasn’t really a bad deal). And what was this wondrous question I inquired about in my future? I couldn’t really decide. Would I find love.. that’s not right, I have love. I love my mother. I love my friends, etc. And what if I love someone who doesn’t love me back? Would I be loved? No, that’s not right, either. G loves me with all his heart. Just can’t work out. So, I settled on “Will I find happiness in love?” So lovely Tarot tells me to push my boundaries…let my passions come through (because this is obviously something you are uncomfortable with, you fucked-up, damaged prude). And then goes on.. and I’m all.. who is it talking about?
Yeah, well. Money well spent.

Oh, look it’s been about 3 hours. And no sugar. Good for me.

And yet, the discomfort lingers. But I’m not weeping at work either. So. There ya go.