Paging Matt Corrigan....

Someday, Matt will actually be free to go out and grab a beer or three and catch up. When that day comes, he will call me and I'll have shit to do. That is how things work and I've come to accept that. I still think he's an evil bastard.

It's All About Free Lunch

I have to be in seminars the next two days for work. While I'm not really keen on the idea of sitting in classes for three four hour stretches over two days, I am keen on free lunch. Fire it up.

Laughter Is The Best Medicine

So, I've been hanging out with this new guy David and he seriously cracks me up. He just says crazy stuff and then looks at me like, "What?" This is just what I needed to get back to my normal self and get to the point where even if Jeremiah was going to come around (which he isn't), I don't want him anymore. *sigh* It's good to be back.

Niceties

You know what's nice? Holding hands. With anyone. Just being friendly. Yeah, that's nice.

I Swear It's From Reading Too Much...

Ok, so I'm not going blind, but I do need to go get glasses. My old prescription gives me a headache and I can't sit and read or stare at the computer screen all day without getting eye strain and sleepy. So now that the insurance has kicked in, I'm going to look for frames this weekend. I'm gonna go trendy hipster... hot damn.

In other news, remember the unemployment phase of the moving to Portland plan? Thought it was over? So did I but I got two letters today from the state telling me I owe them money. It seems that when they cut the benefits because they decided my reasons for declining temp positions (being out of town on a day when I was called for a one day temp job and having an out of town guest on a day when I was called for a one day temp job) qualifies as failing to accept suitable employment, they continued to pay out when they shouldn't have and now they want $1242 back in overpaid unemployment benefits. Holy crap. Now I'm going to have to resort to selling crack to pay them because I just don't have it. A least that way, I can say the government made me do it...

Breaking The Code

I was just thinking about this the other day and it boggles my mind. As far as communication goes, I'm usually pretty good at it. However, I'm beginning to think there's a secret dude code that I need to learn. For example, when I say, "Let's watch a movie...," I actually mean that I want to watch a movie. It's becoming apparent that "Let's watch a movie" is actually secret dude code for "Let's throw a movie in and not watch it because I want to make out with you." This is something chicks just don't get. Is the movie on for background noise? Do you dudes just like the glow from the tv better than normal lighting? If I say "Let's watch a movie," do you think that's an automatic green light to make a move? What's the deal, yo?

Not that this has anything to do with anything, but I'm always looking to be educated on the inner workings of the male mind. Dudes are weird and I need all the help I can get.

Spongemonkeys

This has been around for awhile, but oh my gawd. Everytime I watch it I crack up. Owen e-mailed me today and all the he wrote is: "we like the moon." I busted up just thinking about it. I so needed that. I'm tired of feeling hurt.

I Am A Sucky Daughter

Oh my gawd. I can't believe I didn't call my mom on her birthday yesterday. I suck. And even though she got her present from me the day before, I still wanted to say happy birthday on her actual day. I was planning on calling right when I got home, but then I got sidetracked and distracted and....crap, I don't even have a good excuse! I'm just an idiot.

So, anyway, happy birthday Mom. I love you and I hope your day was great. Let's just pretend this little snafu never happened, mmmkay?

Hippity Hop

Easter was swell and it was nice to hang out with my family. Now that I've got the niceities out of the way, on to the meat of the post:

I've been feeling nostalgic for those hippity hop things that my grandmother had at her house when I was a kid. You know what I'm talking about - it's a big ball with a loop on top where you hold on and then you straddle the ball and grip on with your knees and bounce around the yard or down the street or wherever. They need to make those for grownups. They also need to make Big Wheels for grownups. Same plastic construction, same forward/reverse pedalling action, same high speed skid potential, but bigger. I'd like to think that grownup size hippity hops and Big Wheels would make the world a happier place and heal broken hearts and get rid of stress and....yeah. But who am I kidding...they'd just be freakin' cool!

Saturday Morning...The Aftermath

Do not, I repeat do not try to drown your sorrows in a bottle of white zinfandel on a Friday night with an equally sorrowful roommate. It will only result in making your perfectly good Saturday morning sucky. I'm not hungover but the self-loathing for doing something so ridiculous is making up for the lack of headache and dehydration. To combat this ugly feeling, I've decided that today is a walking day. Every so often I declare an official walking day, put on sneakers and walk until it hurts. Then I walk some more. When I finally get home, I'm so tired that I sleep like the dead and feel really good the next morning. Today might be the day I try to walk across one of the six bridges here in Portland. No promises on that but if the noise in my head and the music piping in through the headphones is distracting enough, I might actually make it half way before the anxiety attack hits me. It's worth a try at least... If I do get across the bridge on foot without incident, I'll let you know.

*later*

I rode the bus home because the above idea was a very, VERY bad one. I do not recommend screwing with phobias as they do not enjoy being taunted. Possible phobic reactions include strained breathing, vertigo and a pounding headache. While I did manage to get all the way across the bridge by not stopping to sightsee, not looking right, left, up or down and humming loudly along to the cd that was playing, I'm going to have to ban myself from all further pedestrian/bridge activity. Thankyouandgoodnight.

Why, Why, Why?

Ok, I know I said I was done talking about it, but after this I'm really done. Honest. So, all day at work, my co-workers kept saying I wasn't acting like my normal self. The folks who know the story kept saying, "It's his loss." What crap. If it's his loss, why am I the one who feels the void? Damn, damn, damn. This frickin' sucks.

Ok, I'm done.

Got Music?

Mixed cds. Show me whatchoo got. Or trade me song for song...e-mail me for details.

Recently rediscovered VAST. The album Music For People is rocking my world right this minute.

On a totally unrelated note, I've been reading some of Ezra's stuff and the way he translates his view of the world makes me smile. If it's possible to be in love with someone's words, I am with his.

Bizarro World

I wish I could let you hear the message that was left on my voice mail by an unavailable number last night. It sounds like a snippet from a cartoon or old radio show or something. I can't quite make out what the announcer guy is saying but it sounds something like, "Beavers are happy! They build things..." and then there're some weird whiz honk zing type sound effects.

Frankly, I wish everyone would leave bizarre messages for me. That one cracked me up. I'd just like to know who sent it. You know what else? I'd like to know who's spending 86 minutes reading my blog from russian time zone 3....or wherever else you people are reading it from. Who's reading this besides the folks I already know? Don't be shy...say hello...leave a comment...tell me you think I suck....whatever. Just say something. Anything.

Rebuilding The Fortress

I called him last night and asked if he'd be at work today so I could come by to return the book I borrowed and get back the cd I lent him. He said he would be and that was that. I went, he asked how I was, I said fine, I asked how he was, he said good, we traded book for cd, I said I had to go back to work, he said he hopes I have a good day and that was that. I didn't even cry...until after I left the store. So now I'm done making an effort and I'm done talking about it and that's that.

Tea For...Yeah, Just Make That One. *pout*

I've taken to drinking lemon or ruby tea in the evenings for the last five days. I'm giving it credit for making me sleep better than I usually do when I'm nursing hurt feelings. It clears the mind a little and lets the frustration about the heartache surface. The questions have become, "How could I have misjudged a situation so severely?" and "Why would someone get so close to me and then shut me out competely?" and "Was I abducted by aliens for those two weeks and if so, when and where does the next spaceship pick up?"

I'm just asking for one nice guy. Just one. Why is that so much to ask?

All's Fair....Not.

You know what's not fair? When you're thinking about someone and want to let them know but "aren't supposed to" because of some "rule" that dictates "appropriate behavior" after someone says they "need space." You know what else isn't fair? The fact that overly using quotation marks makes you look like a pretentious asshole and a complete moron. Damn grammar rules ruining my fun whinyness.

Yesterday, Owen came over and we went to Pambiche for beers, appetizers and dessert. During the course of the conversation, he told me he thinks I let people walk all over me more often than I should and that I need to be more assertive about what I want and letting people know when they've pissed me off. The more I think about it, the more I think he's probably right. I know my friends get upset when they see me get hurt because they care about me. And I seem to let a lot of things slide that hurt my feelings by acting like they don't bother me. Well, I'm hurt. I admit it. People hurt my feelings all the time because I'm sensitive. They don't know they're doing it, so I don't expect them to change. More often than not, it's not even what someone has done...it's what they haven't done that I wish they would do ( I know, that's not fair....but too bad, that's how I feel ). My feelings get hurt because I feel neglected. I'm not starved for attention by any means, as I get plenty of that from my folks and my roommate. It's more that a small amount of romantic attention is given to me and I enjoy the person's company so much that it feels hellacious to have it taken away, mostly because I'm not sure I'll ever get it back. It's like chocolate...if you've never been exposed to chocolate, you don't know what you're missing so you don't care. But if you're given a taste, you like it and then you're not sure if you'll ever get it again, it's all you can do not to think about it all the time. It takes over your brain and sneaks into random conversations until you do get it again. And if you don't ever get it again, it'll drive you mad.

....damn, now I want chocolate....

Sunday Set List

Lamb - "Feela"
pohgoh - "friend x"
Rilo Kiley - "The Frug"
Fleming and John - "Ugly Girl"
Abandoned Pools - "Start Over"
Jimmy Eat World - "For Me This Is Heaven"
Elbow - "Newborn"
Trust Co - "Hover"
Lamb - "Gorecki"
Joydrop - "Beautiful"
Alien Ant Farm - "Summer"
Matthew Sweet - "Sick Of Myself"
The Cure - "Halo"

Everyone Says The Same Thing

I am apparently the worst at hiding emotions. Even when I haven't said anything about how messed up I'm feeling, my friends know. The ones who don't read this and ask how things are going, I mean. They've all said I don't sound like my normal self and want to know if I'm ok. I've gotten in the habit over the years of saying that I'm fine (which I suppose is just wishful thinking about when I will be) and then explaining what's going on to make me sound "not ok." The last two days, after giving the Reader's Digest Condensed version of the story, I've gotten the same response from everyone: don't worry about it, he'll be back. I don't know why it's so hard to believe them...

Anyway, I'm supposed to be hanging out with Owen today. It was raining earlier this morning but if it stays clear like it is now, I'd suggested wandering around somewhere so I'm wishing the clouds away. I always have a good time with him even if we're just sitting around doing nothing. Funny how that works now after having such a rocky history together and having been hurt so badly by him way back when. I guess it's always been in my nature to forgive and give people multiple chances to mess up and still keep trusting them if they've managed to get close to me. There aren't many people whom I'd consider "in" but I've learned that if they can hurt me, they must be in or I wouldn't care and therefore wouldn't be hurt.

Don't Push Me

Anytime I've been interested in someone and they've pushed me away, I've let them. I let every one go and never once put up a fight or called them on being scared. I just walked away. I'm not going to do that this time. I'm not going to let him push me away. Things were getting too good to just let him go and give up.

And just as soon as he calls me, I'm gonna tell him.

Cry-yi 'in Over You

There really is a song for every occasion. Right on.

Being the mature adult that I am, and the emotional, crying mess that I can be, I decided that what has been plaguing me for the last three days is the communication breakdown. So what do I do? I call him, get his voice mail and leave the following message: "Hey, it's me...I know you said you were tired and were just going to go home, but I actually want to hang out with you at some point and it kind of seems like... you don't. So, just call me and let me know what's up with you..." About five minutes later, after I'd called Josh for a cheer up or I'll kick your ass talk, I got a message back that went like this: "Hey, it's me...just calling to return your phone call...yes, I'm tired...and what's going on with me is sometimes I just want to be alone...that's just how I am sometimes so that's what's going on...you can call me back if you want, but I'll probably be asleep so you can leave a message..." How does this make me feel? A little hurt, but only because he didn't just tell me that. Just as I finished leaving a message in response, the phone rang and it was him. Basically, I let him know that it's ok to want time to yourself and I'm the same way about taking space when I need it, but it would have been nice if he'd told me instead of just cutting me off. I told him it made me feel like I must have done something wrong. He said he has a tendency to push people away, that it wasn't me and that he was sorry. I told him I like being around him and enjoy his company but didn't want to invade his space or make him feel obligated to hang out with me so when he wanted to see me, he'd have to call me. And that was that. I don't know what's supposed to happen now....

All By Myseeellllf

There is no lonlier feeling than being given everything you want and then having it taken away. I'm learning that there's a difference between missing someone and pining for them. So, while it's all great and good to get swept up in a whirlwind romance, it makes things far too complicated. I've known Jeremiah for a little over two weeks and already I care. I shouldn't but I do. The things he says and the things he does don't always match up and it's confusing and hurtful. And I could totally be blowing this out of proportion but I guess you have to be here to see what he's doing to me. I'm not myself. I'm not a needy person. I'm not. Dammit.

In other news, I saw Michael this morning and he's talked me out of joining a convent. At least this week.

Soundtrack to my world as of right now : Trust Co. - The Lonely Position of Neutral

It'd Be Easier If They Just Went Away

We know better than to let people get too close too quickly. We know better than to trust most men. We know better than to take things for granted because, as soon as we do, they get taken away. We all know better but we do it anyway and then we cry. And it's our own stupid fault. Sometimes I wish we weren't so eager to please and give of ourselves because then we wouldn't feel slighted when things don't go as we hoped. Maybe if we stopped hoping, we wouldn't always be so disappointed.

I can so understand why people become alcoholics.

Losing Myself

I need music for these words I wrote...

I guess the girl I once was has disappeared
And going to extremes gets me nowhere
I find myself acting boldly weird
Though I used to shy away from his blatant stare

And when he calls
I find myself saying things
That make me
Not like me at all

I'm losing myself

The closer he gets, the less of me there is
All the things I stand for will fall
I'm starting to wonder if these thoughts are mine or his
And if his heart could really be so small

And when he calls
I find myself saying things
That make me
Not like me at all

The Voice Of The Future

To precurse this, I have to mention that nothing out of the ordinary happened last night while I was awake. However, I had a glimpse of the future last night in a dream and when I woke up I knew that one day, he's going to break my heart. It won't be intentional, but it'll happen. I can feel it. And he has no idea. It must be nice to live in a bubble of oblivion.

In other news, I got some faboo black cropped pants last night. If Portland floods, I'm so ready.

Coo Coo Coo Choo

The boy came back yesterday afternoon. After three phone calls Saturday night, while I was rocking out at the Fez, telling me he missed me and was pretty miserable in the cold, wet, muddy hole he spent part of his evening in, I was happy to see him and he was glad to be home. During one of the calls on Saturday night, he said it was my fault that he was so miserable since he never used to miss home when he went out on drills and the only thing he had to look forward to coming back to was his job. Now he missed me and just wanted to come home to see me. How sweet! He called yesterday around 3ish to let me know he was about 10 minutes away and to come over and meet him while he was still in his uniform (I'd mentioned I wanted to see him in it). After he took a shower and changed, we went back to my place to watch The Ninth Gate, Office Space and Sleepy Hollow. Finally fell asleep around midnight while he was reading a book. ...I really didn't want to get up this morning...

Little. Plaid. Different.

After work last night, most of the office went to the Portland City Grill up on the 30th floor of the US Bank building. Oh. My. Gawd. Awesome sushi, awesome martinis, awesome view of the whole city. The tab split between me, Jenn and Steph R. only ended up being $22 each including the tip. And a bunch of other people from the other properties the company owns around town showed up, so we had a big group and everyone had a good time. Around 8ish, Jenn took me home so I'd have time to change and get ready to go back out to the Ash St. Saloon to see Garmonbozia.

When I showed up at the club, Michael was standing over near the bar by himself with a beer in hand and waved me over as I walked in the door. He said they were playing in four minutes and that I should get a beer and he'd see me after their set. A couple of the guys from the Bella Fayes I know were there, so I had a beer with them and found out that the guy who produced their album was also producing the album Garmonbozia is in the studio recording, so that's how they'd heard about them and thought they'd come check out the show. I'm not usually self-conscious about being at a show by myself since I'm going to hear the band, not to schmooze and play the meat market, but it was nice to have people there I knew besides the guy playing bass on stage. I liked everything they played and after it was over, I talked to Shane and Lael for a few, saw Tracy and Sherrie and talked to them for a few and decided to head home. Outside, the Garmonbozia guys had finished loading their gear into their van and were figuring out what they were all going to do for the rest of the night. Michael saw me come out and came over to hug me and thank me for coming and apologize for the technical difficulties at the end of the set. I told him that the last song they played was actually my favorite and he said he'd put it on a cd for me... awww. :) I told him I was going to stick around and have another beer with him, but I was tired and needed sleep. He said he'd see me Monday, finally called me Tiff instead of Tiffany and gave my arm a little nudge for the fourth or fifth time during the conversation.... ah, beer - the key to unlocking the shy man's social skills. I about fell asleep on the bus ride home and don't even remember turning off the light last night before sleeping like dead until 9:30 this morning. I like nights like that...

The Best Website EVER.

Go here. You know you want to... look up janky while you're visiting.

Having Your Cake

Well, now that we've got the whole "I don't want a girlfriend right now, I just really enjoy spending time with you/You can't tell me you're falling for me one day and that you don't want a girlfriend the next" conversation out of the way, it has been brought to my attention that I'm janky. Yes, you heard me, janky. I was told I need to quit being so janky. I'm not altogether sure what that means, but it was said to me after I called him a sucky boy and pushed him away from cuddling me. After that, it got ridiculous, we kept laughing and we returned to the previously scheduled cuddling, but there was never any explaination about the jankyness or the not wanting a girlfriend. *grumble, grumble*

In other news, he's introduced me to some new music. Two bands called Reggie and the Full Effect and Finch. Ahh, emo. Plus, he made me a cd with both of those bands and threw two Cure songs on the end, one of which I'd never heard before but has become my new favorite Cure song - it's called "Halo." At least he's good for something...

Distractions

Obviously, I've been a slacker. For that, I apologize. One day, there will be a way to plug the computer into my brain and download everything I have wanted to write for the last few days but haven't had the time. Until then, I'll try to make more of an effort to get back to a daily update. Though it's no excuse for slacking, I can honestly say that in 29 years, I have never been consistently treated as well by a guy as I have in the past seven days. I have never bonded with someone so quickly nor felt so quickly at ease with someone before. I've never wanted to spend all of my time with someone and had that feeling reciprocated before. Crazy.

On a less squishy note, Jeremiah is heading out of town for drills this weekend, so I'm heading out on my own to the Ash St. Saloon tomorrow night to see Michael's band, to the Fez Ballroom to see Dr. Theopolis on Saturday night and if my favortie jackass Matt gets his shit together, there are beers to be had on Sunday. At some point, I'm gonna have to watch Office Space this weekend because I've had that song "Damn It Feels Good To Be A Gangsta" in my head all day and that means I'm due to watch it again. Word.