My signature

So the other day, I snapped at Francis because he questioned why I signed my whole name on receipts and documents. I like my name. I like signing my name. That's the way my signature has looked ever since I was in college.

I love my whole independent, think-for-myself thing, but I have to admit, this comment (though I hated it) has affected my signature. In order to change it, I will need to contact the bank and the credit card companies to resubmit a sample. You know, with identity theft and all, you can never be too careful.

Anyway, we got into a big fight last night. I mean huge. There was arguing and crying and the click of the phone and a lame text message (on my part). It's all about what could have been. Apparently, I put my head in the wrong place even though my heart was where it was supposed to be. And he, on the other hand, I think, sees one tiny part of the whole other side of the story.

The flat tire

I'm psychologically imbalanced (no suprise). I'm emotionally fatigued. My goals cannot be attained at the moment and, because of this, I cannot move forward.

I looked it up. This is what the flat tire means. I'm drained. Tired. Confused. At a stump. In a rut. And to top it all off, losing weight is a bitch.

That's exactly how I feel.

'Nuff said.

The day continues.

So, I'm at work on a Saturday night, Operations Watch, I man the phones in case of an emergency. Let's hope I don't panic. Just goes to show that I'd rather be here than out there, in a bar somewhere with friends, drinking expensive lemonade. Though, I don't always pay for my drink when we go out (I'm designated driver), I enjoy bar-hopping more with Francis. It's all small talk and drinking, anyway.

I'm watching House of Flying Daggers. I am totally in love with Jin- chinky and handsome- that's the way I like 'em. Haha.

I totally forgot about dinner. For the first time, ever, I wasn't thinking about food. I walked around Melrose and decided to have lunch at Costco before I did the grocery shopping. Francis suggested I microwave the corned beef I bought for dinner. By that time, I had already eaten two dinky bags of chips and M&Ms. Ick.

As I sit here, I realize that I have a Saturday night all to myself. I can actually relax and watch the movie or read Harry Potter Year Five. But I don't. I don't know how to sit still, except for when it's cold. There is always something that needs to be done. Multi-tasking has become my habit. I have to think and watch and type. I have to read and analyze and ponder. I procrastinate getting up for a drink of water. I think of what I'm supposed to do tomorrow.

Anyway, Jin and the girl are starting to do it on the forest floor. This, I don't get. How can you do it with leaves poking your ass and insects biting your inner thighs?

I'm due for another potty break and I'm seeing things in the corner of the room.

I'm not scared. I'm not scared. I'm not scared.

Fuckity fuck fuck. Who's idea was it to give me the late shift, anyway?

Stress

So, last night, after the meeting with the city person (I applied for a grant to have the house painted), I conked out. It was fatigue, I guess, from the long week and being brought back to reality. I didn't even hear my cell phone when Francis called at 630pm.

Most of my afternoons are spent analyzing bills. I even check my account balance twice a day hoping that money will pop up out of the blue (a.k.a. extreme wishful thinking). I can't run and I can't hide. Adulthood has taken over. Shitty shit shit! I also feel like I'm in a slump. My job is great, but I want more. The company will pay for 100% of my education (whatever I choose) but I don't know what and where to study. Should I stick to my current field- Aerospace- or should I venture into marketing or broadcast communications? Should I continue looking for a new job or should I stay where I am and wait a little longer to see what oppotunities may arise?

I don't even think I have a dream or goal anymore. That's sad. I used to be so ambitious.

9 days

Francis arrived last Monday. It was hard to watch him walk away this morning. It was depressing. This weekend, I realized that, right before he leaves to go back to Montreal, I pick fights with him. Stupid fights. Little fights. Fights I regret when I know I won't see him when I get home.

We spent a few days at the beach. Most of the time, I was under the umbrella while Francis was in the water. I think I even got drunk off my semi-virgin margarita because there is a picture of me lying down on my tummy with the towel on my body up to my neck and my face is covered by my hair. It sort of looked like the girl on The Ring on vacation.

For his birthday, I made a little game where he answers questions for points. The grand prize was a portable dvd player (but that's only if he perfected the game). He got the portable dvd player anyway, since he won the Best Buy $75 certificate. At least he got what he wanted. I called in sick on his birthday because I figured that, even if I went to work, my head would be at home. Might as well leave the rest of me there, too. So, we just sat in front of the tv all day till mid-afternoon. We had dinner at the oh-so-good Bucca di Beppo (Italian). And that was that. The rest of the night was spent with me whining about him leaving the next day. I may have sounded like a spoiled brat, but, hey, I have to admit, there is never enough time to spend with him.

Closer

I just saw Closer. I don't recommend it to those tempted to go back to the past, obsessed with inflicting self-torture. The movie was about betrayal. It's not the greatest thing on earth. To watch something you've been through. I sat there and I was sad. Sad about my own past and how it was a hard lesson to learn. I sat there and saw the characters ruin each others lives. It was like watching my own movie. Taped many years ago. Feelings caught in that span of time. It's insane how people go back to the traitor to justify their own needs. No matter how hard and how sordid, they lay there and lie with that person and pretend that everything is okay.

I wasn't surprised how the movie ended. Anna goes back to her husband. Alice leaves Dan. Dan is regretful. Larry is triumphant. How do you live like that? How do you go on? What makes you forgive even though you will never forget?

I think of everything I've gone through, everything my friends are going through. I think of all the things I tell them. I say, "Don't be like me. I was stupid. Don't be stupid. Be honest. Be who you are. Don't let someone dictate the way you feel and the way you act. Do not justify your lie with a half-truth." As I say these hurtful things, what they don't realize is that I know what I'm talking about. I have to relive my own lie to help them. I allow myself to suffer with them. I want to protect those I love because betrayal is the most imcomprehensible, hurtful thing anyone can ever experience. It kills the spirit. Some people make it and are reborn somehow. Some people die with it, never able to live whole again.

The day I saw the light, I sat in the church. I prayed with all my might. I fought back the tears. I told myself that it was over and I have too much love for myself to let it continue. The only battle I had was with me. Could I forgive myself for being who I wasn't? Could I forgive myself for trusting someone with my vulnerability? Could I go on knowing that it was no one's fault but mine?

I could and I did. I left that church. I was me again. I forgave everyone, especially myself. I was happy and, for the first time in a very long time, I love being in my own skin. I know that there are reasons for everything, for every little thing, for every big thing, for the things you think will ruin your life. It didn't though. I'm not ruined. I'm not sad or regretful or bitter. I walked away, unharmed, a little smarter. I look back only because I my friends ask me to help them. "Give me the truth," they say. And I do. I give them every part of me, every segment lived and pained. I tell them they don't have to worry because they will walk away from it eventually. They will look back sometimes only to remind themselves that there is no greater happiness than now. They will get over it. We all do.

I should know.

Faithless

It's depressing to watch something you've cherished slowly come to an end. Though my eyes are bloodshot from crying, I cannot hide from the inevitable. If this is the way things have to be, I've come to accept it.

There's nothing left to fight over, fight about, or fight for.

There are only days left and I know the minutes will last a lifetime.