And the rug gets pulled out once again

So yeah.

Bill isn't over his ex fiance. And you know what? I knew it wasn't right anyway. I feel bad for the guy. He was trying to force it just as much as I was. Sigh.

The good thing is that it gets more exciting for you, my captive audience. Oh Maaaaaaatch!

It smells like fried food in my apartment and it's making me sick.

I need to move.

Nothing good but everything

So things are going great, right?

Just landed this new, high paying, super fantastic job. Dating this great guy who really digs me. Credit card debt down, savings up. Everyone I love is alive and well. Hair is growing out nicely, I'm managing my weight and have even gotten comments that I look like I have lost weight (I know, a mystery to me as well). Roof over my head, great make up, nice clothes, great friends. Honestly, things have never looked better.

Because I'm an intelligent person with quite a bit of common sense (I think), I can recognize all of the above.

But I'm not enjoying it. In fact...I feel mildly miserable. Self doubt is creeping up, I'm second guessing myself and I just feel sick about it. Why why WHY?

Am I so used to drama that I'm upset about not having to deal with it?

It doesn't make any sense.

p.s.

Bill does in fact have the bandwidth to take into public and introduce to friends. Family? Not yet.

I told you I was neurotic.

A literal pain in the ass

I was thinking about writing this very graphic, potentially offensive entry about a recent physical problem of mine, but I thought it was entirely too much. But I will tell you what it would have been about: 'Roids. That is all I will say. Use your active imaginations. I have no doubt you'll come up with something more horrifying that I would ever imagine to write. Or some of you would.

Next up: The last week and a half of work. It's extremely difficult to stay motivated. Gmail and online shopping are terrible distractions. It I had iTunes on there, it would be all over.

I need a vacation.

I feel as though things are going pretty well for me right now. Let's not break the cycle of good!

But you know what happens when things start to go well? Say it with me now...SABOTAGE. Yes, that's right. I'm already finding things wrong with my current state and nit picking. It's a terrible habbit that I need to break. It's just hard when you are so used to living life with this perpetual sense of dread. But awareness is the first step towards change or whatever, right?

Unfortunately, shitty things are happening to people that I care about. In some cases, really life changing, shitty things. That's not cool and it makes me very sad. I hope they know I am here for them.

Why does listening to David Gray make me so fucking sad?

Bad blogger

I just realized that I never wrote about meeting Bill's friends last week when we all went out for his birthday.

They were all very nice and welcoming and funny. I did not feel left out or a non-member of the in crowd for the entire night. I can tell they care about Bill.

He will meet a new friend of mine tonight, along with a bunch of people (who I was promised will be cool) that I have never met. Out in public...with people I know...

Maybe that is why I'm freaking out. Will he be a social perahya (some of you will notice that this has a double meaning...)? Will he complain about the crowd (I'm sure I will)? Will my friend think he's cool, will I think he's cool?

Ah fuck. Why am I so neurotic?

Freaking out is the name of the game

Alrighty...

I accepted a new job on Wednesday and gave my notice here. I told the team yesterday. The client does not know yet, so it doesn't seem real to me. I'm supposed to be working on filling all of these jobs that I have open, but I have this overwhelming feeling of anxiety today. I can't focus and I'm freaking out.

The new job is so huge and such a great opportunity that it borders on scary and intimidating. Self confidence will be key, so let's hope I get that back in full force soon.

I am so wishy washy about Bill. It's driving me crazy right now for some reason. I was doing so well! I like him, then I'm just "eh" about him. I need to and want to let it ride. All signs point to him being a good guy for me. And am I nit picking it in order to sabotage it or am I really "not that into him"? Who knows. What I do know is that I hate how he never asks me how I'm doing. I can see now why the ex broke up with him due to lack of communication. He knows he's bad at it, and acceptance and awareness are usually the biggest hurdles to overcome. He has been great about me being a cranky bitch, and that's hard to come by. He lets me do laundry in his apartment. I told him to buy a new mop and clean his stove...and he did. He makes me laugh, he cooks me food, he makes a mean cocktail.

Dammit!

Too much at once, too much at once!!

Who knew that making a mess could be so fun?

So I made dinner for Bill last night and it actually turned out fairly well. Who knew?

What I liked about cooking (and the clean up afterwards) is that it was a project with specific steps and a definitive beginning and end. And I get to follow directions and cross things off a list? What's not to like?

Needless to say, Bill really liked it. Sure, he isn't the best at expressing himself, but he knows it and he tries pretty hard. It was cute.

I stayed last night and this morning was a rude awakening. I'm not used to human interaction before I take a shower and put on my makeup on a weekday morning, so that part was a bit rocky. He sent me an email today about how chipper I was.

What does he expect when he turns on a light in the pitch dark without warning me? That I'm going to shit rainbows?

Predications are fun

Ryan Gosling: Next Great American Actor

Proof thus far:
Half Nelson
The Believer


See them.

Blogtard

Bill's birthday is on Wednesday and I am doing something that I literally thought I would never do: I am attempting to cook something. And not just anything, but an actual meal (with appetizer!) using an actual recipe.

Anyone who knows me knows that cooking is not something that I do. It doesn't interest me and it doesn't seem fun. Everything tastes better when someone else makes it anyway. So why bother?

So it occurred to me earlier today while I was searching for a fish taco (Bill happened to mention last night that this is one of his favorites) recipe online, I must really dig this guy. Not only that, but he told me that I didn't need to make anything, didn't need to do anything at all in fact. Is he just being polite or does he really mean that? I think it's safe to say that the latter is 100% applicable. I know this because this is what I always say to people who say they are going to do something nice for me on my birthday. Half of me wants them not to bother because I will most likely be disappointed anyway, but the other half of me really wants that birthday surprise.

I told him last night that me doing anything for his birthday was going to be terribly difficult for me to figure out what to do, and it's so hard this early in a relationship, and I'm just so busy, I don't know if I would be able to swing anything at all. Of course I was being a huge bitch on purpose. And the sweet thing looked at me so sincerely and said "I never make a big deal of birthdays anyway. Don't worry."

So fuck it. He gets his surprise. And I'll even sleep over on a school night.

So what if my sister questions my ability to boil water and blatantly told me to "stay far away from the kitchen"? Just because she has known me for my entire life doesn't mean she knows what she's talking about.

It will be fine.

(Right?)

oh shit it's been a week

For all you who use this blog as a primary source of entertainment (as you should), I really do apologize for my lack of posts this week. It's been a difficult last few days and I haven't had it in me to muster up the high quality of wit and sarcasm to which you are accustomed.

I'm still not quite there yet, but I promise to be back soon.

Just be patient and stop you're whining.

Subsection

Bill is away this week curing cancer, so I need to write about something else.

I think I'll go with my job. In one vein, I work for one company, the one that signs my paychecks. In another vein, I work for two companies. Imagine working for an international corporation (and all of the politics that go along with it) while, at the same time, working for a privately owned corporation (and ditto). Exhausted yet?

Everyday, it's worlds colliding on a high level. It has become increasingly difficult for me to do the main function of my job because of all the fucking corporate machine bullshit. Recent "policy" changes have made it increasingly difficult for me to be a corporate cheerleader, which is a huge part of my role. Added to that, I am underpaid and therefore extremely unmotivated. At this point, the whole situation is just soul sucking.

I have reached a state that I refer to as "The Rot." The Rot can be something you feel about your job, your relationship, or any major part of your life. In any case, you have reached a point where you stop caring about the outcome of your decisions and it is a true struggle to get out of bed in the morning. You may have an underlying anxiety that is constant or a bitter taste in your mouth that you just cannot get rid of. It is not that you wholly despise it, it is that you have this vacant feeling, as if the reason you once loved something has drifted away and may never be captured again.

But the shadow of why you orginally accepted your current state remains, and perhaps you feel as if you need to give it a fighting chance. So you stay...and wait.

It's been too long

It's been an eventful week. I was absolutely exhausted all week to the point where I made myself sick, so I stayed home on Friday and slept...all day.

Friday night, Bill and I had tapas and watched The Professional. We also made a date to "consumate" our relationship, if you know what I mean. Next Saturday when he comes back from his trip. He even sent me a meeting request through Google Calendar for the event )duration: one hour), which was absolutely hilarious.

But I was still hesitant yesterday and I felt like I was really on the verge of ruining the whole thing. I wasn't sure why I couldn't just let go and enjoy spending time with someone who was really into me, or why I was nervous about taking the next step.

I went over Bill's again last night, as he is leaving this morning for a week for business. I had an attitude and was defensive about everything that came out of his mouth. It was awful. I felt like such a crazy person. So...in a last ditch attempt to salvage the evening, I came clean...squeaky clean.

I laid it all out. I'm scared, this is all so new to me, I've never done things the "normal" way with a guy, the way that is functional and healthy and blah blah blah. I wanted to start the night over and I was sorry I made it awkward...

I was doing this while I was cutting tomatoes for the salad, not looking at him because I was too embarrassed. He stood next to me, with his hand on my shoulder. When I was done talking, I looked up and he was smiling at me. He leaned over, kissed me, and just said "I know."

For whatever reason, that turned the tables for me. I let my guard down and we talked about all the reasons why being with other people had never worked out. Bill was with his ex for fours years. They were engaged for 8 months and she broke it off because she didn't want to get married...to him. I told him about Nick and how I thought my future was all laid out for me and then it was shattered, and I had to rebuild.

It wasn't too heavy and there wasn't any crying on my part, which is nothing less than a miracle. It was just right.

And we went ahead and rescheduled that Google Calendar event for a week early.

Is it possible for my faith in men to be restored?

It just might be. Between Bill being all sensitive and cuddly and a great cook, and the excerpt below, I'm starting to become a believer.

I sent Match Mike his walking papers a couple of days ago and, fearing a reply, I sort of whinced when I saw that he had actually written back.

He has this to say:

Hi Steph,
Obviously, I'm sorry to hear that. You're a great girl - it's definitely my loss.

On the other hand, thanks for being honest and up front - that's pretty hard to come by in the world of Internet dating (at least in my somewhat limited experience). I did have a great time hanging out with you at dinner, so I'm happy to be just friends if you're in the mood for that.

Either way, best of luck to you finding someone - whoever he turns out to be, he's a lucky guy.

Michael

Damn that makes a girl feel good!

Just that little bit of self pity is enough to put me over the edge

I hate my hair, I hate my nails, I hate how tired I am and I hate my attitude. What is WRONG with me?

I'm going to blame it on "too much going on" and "late nights" and "medication adjustments."

Yep...all THREE of those things.

Grilled Cheese and Tomato

I tried to write last night but the server was unavailable or whatever.

Last night was date #4 with Bill, tonight was date #5.

Last night was really fun. Mac and cheese, Idol and some pretty awesome make out sessions (eh ehm).

Tonight...well...I was a big bitch.

I'm really tired, work is stressing me out and I probably shouldn't have gone over there with the way I had myself all worked up. But I wanted to see him, and I didn't want to bail and make him think I wasn't into him.

Because I am into him. Or at least I should be.

And while I tried not to show the real mood I was in, those of you who know me know that I'm terrible at faking it. But he was really patient and determined to put me in a better mood. He even made me laugh so hard that I had tears streaming down my face. He wasn't turned off by my attitude. He actually saw it as a challenge.

He is the sweetest, nicest, most thoughtful, most normal guy, and I, in TYPICAL Stephanie fashion, do not think I deserve to be with someone like him. This is what I've been looking for and this is what I want, but more importantly, this is what I need, and I'm already doubting myself.

I'm such an idiot.

He asked me to stay over tonight, with the preface of "I know you're tired, just sleep." And he meant it.

I said no.

Let me repeat...

I am such an idiot.

My last one for today, I swear...because I'm hungry anyway

Hi! Well, like many of the people who write these, this is something I never thought I would do. But after seeing how happy my friends are with the people they met, I thought I would give it a try... I am a little shy at first, but once I get to know you, I am a really fun guy to hang out with. I love to run, and South Boston is the perfect place with the beach and Castle Island right there. I am a huge sports fan, so I like to catch up on the Sox and Pats whenever I can. I like to get out, explore and learn new things every day. I am very easygoing, and get along well with everyone.

Replace "easygoing" with relaxed, multiple this paragraph by 10,000, and you have the guys within a 10 miles radius of me that are looking for dates on Match.

Awesome.

Yeah. I'm bored.

So I've seen some crazy things on Match, but I've never seen this:

I'm about to be 22 next Friday, 9/15, I got put in a 42 day coma which was from a severe beating which left me in a wheelchair but I can and do walk with a walker. I would say I'm pretty cute with deep blue eyes, long eyelashes and a noticeably cute face, so I'm told. I'm very intelligent, quick witted and carefree (kinda) lol. I love writing poetry when depressed or very happy. I would like to meet a girl whose appreciative, giving, sexual and really understanding and forgiving.

These are the things that make me feel less crazy. Is that mean?

Confession Time

I promised I would be really honest with myself while trying to find "Mr. Right" this time around.

Here goes.

Bill called me a while ago, just like he said he would. He was stuck in traffic for almost two hours on 95 on his way home from work, so it's 8 and he's just getting home. We talked for a bit about tomorrow night and watching The Idol (he asked me about this last night), about what he was eating for dinner, about how his cat hates me, about how we hate Kraft singles. And I almost said something like "Well, I'm not doing anything right now...Want me to come over?"

BUT I DID NOT. Instead, I told him to have a nice night and I hung up the phone. Now I can't stop thinking about it.

And you know why? It's because I want instant gratification and I want to "unknowingly" sabotage this good thing. But I also know that is a mistake. And I realize that the anticipation of seeing him again seems almost as satisfying as actually seeing him. I know this is the best part and instead of looking at it in a bad way, I need to enjoy it. And I think he's in the same place. I think he wanted to ask me just like I wanted to ask him. But neither of us did, because...we just didn't.

As Bill said last night "The only thing better than having sex is not having sex." He's actually making fun of the following line in a terrible movie that we watched that I thought would be good but was not good: "The only thing better than kissing on the first date is not kissing on the first date."

Nevertheless, I understand the principle. The build up is usually way better than the actual thing. And while this is risky and could lead to crushing disappointment, it's just fucking true.

So what's my confession? I'm disappointed about something that didn't happen that was never even supposed to happen, and the self doubt is creeping up on me. If I use the rational part of my brain, I realize this is a ridiculous thought and quickly dismiss it.

But the irrational, overly emotional, insecure part of me believes it whole heartedly.

Shit. I thought I was past this...

TROUBLE

This is where shit gets tricky.

So Bill and I had a great time last night (of course), and I can't stop thinking about lying on the couch with him and making out because it just felt really good. (A note to readers: all articles of clothing remained ON. Who's proud of me?) I'm not even sure what it is about him that has rendered me a complete obsessive crazy person. Is my self esteem that low...Am I that desperate? Maybe. Or maybe I just really like this one.

He makes pizza on Sundays, so we had pizza. He made the pizza dough from scratch in the bread machine and everything. I felt kind of inferior. But I made a salad with lots of cucumbers. And, since he shares my affinity for sweet baby greens and seedless cucumbers, it was a huge hit. He was really thankful that I brought him beer and salad. I was like, "Uhm...it's really not that hard."

At any rate, I was over there until 12:30 last night, well past the end of the Oscars, and the local news was in the background while I was trying to will myself off of his really comfortable leather couch where it was really warm in his really gorgeous apartment that he owns...

So this is the tricky stage. I need some rules of engagement.

1. Stay breezy, but still obviously interested.

2. Do not go out of your way to drive by his house to see if the lights are on in his apartment.

3. Always wait a sufficient amount of time before returning emails, phone calls and texts. Not too long, but just long enough so that he starts to sweat just a little on the other end.

4. Remain only mildly available. Don't go for last minute plans because you are obviously a very busy person and things need to be booked in advance.

5. Don't ask about old relationships until you are at the "boyfriend" stage. This also applies to the optional "How many people have you slept with" conversation.

6. Do not give it up until at least the 6th date. (Why do I pick 6 as the arbitrary number? I really don't know. We are past date number three which, according to Glamour readers, means I am not a skank...this time.)

7. Don't ask awkward questions whilst making out/in the heat of the moment.

8. Get the cat to like you. Put cat nip in your pockets if necessary.

9. Don't assume you are invited over...EVER. Sure he lives right down the street, but still.

and 10. DO NOT have obsessive thoughts that will only shatter your self image and create crippling self doubt.

Don't I give myself good advice?

Second Look

I just re-read that email from Charlie ("Mixed Messages") and I do think he meant well, but was very unpoetic about it. Boys can be so dumb.