There's a song that's inside of my soul
It's the one that I've tried to write over and over again

I spent my trip up here to mom and dad's with my beloved 6-disc changer in my truck. I realize that there is always a "method to my madness" when it comes to my choice in music. For instance, I find that I listen to sappy love songs when there is a worthy man in my life, and that I sing more when I'm happy. I prefer to keep my performance CD in my changer, and I actually sing (and work my vocal chords) when I'm in a pleasant mood.

I apparently have been in a great mood lately, because Princess has taken to demanding that I play "CHERRIES!" For those that have never had the opportunity to hear me sing, my best genre is one that showcases my very booming and loud "Broadway" sort of voice. One of my best songs is "Life Is Just A Bowl Of Cherries" from Fosse, so when I'm in a good mood, it spins quite often. She also seems to like "Once Upon A Dream" from Disney's Sleeping Beauty. This semi-classical piece is a far cry from Fosse, but still very showy. I have hidden my music for the Bastard Song That Will Not Die (aka Orange Colored Sky).

Today at work, I was so absorbed in alternately getting some work done (auditing matrices - yawn), and e-mailing back and forth with NewBoy (definitely not yawn). He really does need a proper name, but I can't think of one. Maybe one of you can suggest a good name for him.

While we are on the subject of NewBoy ... tonight is the first time in nearly a week that I haven't spent a record amount of phone time with him. By record, I mean a minimum of two hours plus, each night. We could talk for hours on end, maybe even days. But since I'm here at the parental units' (and I prefer to keep them in the dark about my social life), I didn't call him tonight. Without my nightly "tuck in" from him, I feel, in a word ... lonely. He even put up with my consumption of an entire bottle of wine (and the ensuing silliness) the other night, and then told me after the fact that apologies were not necessary. I guess the bottom line is ... I kinda like having him around.

I'm off to bed, as I have a lot of work ahead of me tomorrow. I have to finish some homework (thankfully my class is almost over), and I'm sure there will be a trip to Robek's in my future. There is a God, and he wants me to have a Big Wednesday with a Nutri*Bek booster. Maybe even some whey protein. I'll have to ask Him.

Go ahead.  Ask me anything.
 
Stealing a post from Murphy's blog ...

Post questions in the comments, and I'll answer them.  Get freaky, get stupid, get to askin' questions.

(and yes, NewBoy ... there's my second post.)

The "Top Ten" Things To Know About Me.

1. I got the nickname "Martini" during a night of debauchery.  My slurred speech spit out the gem that will now define my entire life:  "FUCK. YOU.  I don't need no man.  I gots me a Marteeeeeeeeeni.  YOU HEAR ME?!?  A Martini! ..:: hiccup ::.. "  It will stick, I think, due to the fact that I have an unnatural affection for Grey Goose cosmopolitans.  I like my martinis just like I like talk from my men ... dirty, dirty, dirty.
2. Turn ons include: Southern drawls (just a smidge of one, not the whole "down on the bayou" kind of unintelligible garbage), men in suits, boxer briefs, kisses (lips, neck, other places too), great skin, sparkling smile, big hands, broad shoulders, a knowledge of flowers and/or wine (inventive flowers ... not just red roses ... but there is one specific kind of rose that wins my heart over any other flower.  Bonus points to the man that knows my favorite wine too!), men that know how to play Texas Hold-Em (but let me win anyways), ambition, commitment, honesty.
3. ....:::: intentionally left blank ::::....
4. Turn offs include: Disrespectful jerks, narrow-minded people, mid-life crises, hardcore Republicans, sloppy kissers, selfish people, animal haters.
5. Shower or bath: Depends on the situation.  If I'm alone, it's a bath.  With Kiehl's lavender and sea salt bubbles.  But if I have company - shower.  With a few choices of shower gel.
6. E-Mail:  I'm a Gmail kind of girl.  But I keep two Yahoo's for anonymity (my Gmail addy involves my real name).  Only special people get the Gmail account.
7. Totally Hot:  Joe Rogan, John Edwards, Jordan Knight, Mike Valpredo.
8. Not hot: John Kerry, Carson Daly, David Letterman.
9. Annoying: men that wear short-sleeved shirts with ties.  How "Falling Down" of you.
10. Silver or Gold: Depends on the mood and the outfit.  I generally wear silver anymore (haven't worn much gold since I no longer wear a wedding ring).  I usually have on one of two necklaces: a simple and very dainty John Christian necklace with an anchor on a chain, or a "Return To Tiffany's" heart-shaped tag on a ball-chain.

Since NewBoy notices there's always two posts a day ...
 
Check out this shirt.  I want it.  I must have it.   I. NEED. IT.  I will love anyone that can get me one.   Me love you LONG time.

That is all.

We are all just prisoners here
Of our own device
 
Another day, another computer ... that's my motto.  See, I think that I shouldn't be allowed to touch computers ever again.  Because I now have hosed two (count 'em two) laptops in just as many weeks.  Here I am at the stupid library, AGAIN, because I have an assignment due for my class (more on that in a minute).  My system was just fine until I rebooted the damned thing this morning before I left for work.

Anyhow, I had this fabulous idea to steal Drama Queen's idea (thanks for the props, btw) and go off on my blog ancestry.  But alas, 'twas not to be.  I *heart* the Columbus Metropolitan Library.  Guess I better vote for that levy after all.

Daily happenings, other than frying yet another computer:

• Regarding J: he has grovelled appropriately, but still has yet to see the error of his ways.  Translated, he says he's sorry, but I highly doubt he means it.   I was swamped at work today (didn't even get to go have my Murphy/Birdherder fix), and didn't really have time to babysit him.  Damn my job for getting in the way of my social life!  Sadly though, I find myself in a quandary ... if I continue to keep the lines of communication open, J will continue to abuse the situation.  I no longer want a "boy toy" or a "friend with benefits" ... that sure as hell isn't keeping me warm at night (more on what - or who - is in the next bullet-point).  Alone sucks.  And J can either get on the f-ing giddy-up-along, or he can just go back from whence he came.
• Regarding NewBoy: Oh my, oh my ... where to begin.  Apparently, disclosing all of one's neuroses is certainly food for incredibly hot and sordid conversation.  Again, already busted him out for having read here before.  I know he still does, because he remarked last night that I usually post twice in one day, and that there is never a number three.  He knows of the existence of J, obviously, but he also knows that it's very likely that J's days are numbered.  NewBoy is a very patient man, and apparently knows exactly how to push this girl's buttons.  Hints to make me happy, which NewBoy has already mastered: Communication is a good thing.  Picking up the phone and calling when you promised you would is a good thing.  Asking me if I am tired is a good thing.  Not assuming ANYTHING about me is a good thing.  Need I go on?
• Regarding TheFirm: I managed to land myself in a meeting with several power-players this afternoon, and spent a significant amount of my time feeling them out for information.  Seems that I, as a person, am fairly safe for right now.  I will, although, be keeping my feelers out just in case a good possibility comes along.
• Regarding my class:  I'm getting a D.  D does not equal DONE.  I have to have at least a C for TheFirm to pay for it.  So, I guess that means I'd better get my shit together and go do my homework.
• Regarding R: He interviewed for two new jobs today.  This will make him very happy.  I unselfishly offered to be a reference for him, but requested that they not inform the HR folks that I was his ex wife.  I do look damn good on paper, so this could help him immensely.  And he better thank me properly. 

Off to get my classwork done.  I'll have email at work, but I doubt that either of my I.T. hookups (R and J) will surface to fix my laptop at home.  No matter, as I'm picking up a new computer (well, new to me) on Friday while visiting the parents.  Love to all, and to all a new hard drive.

 

Check out this whole "AudioBlogger" thing.  It's a clip of Princess talking.  Enjoy.

 

(I have a feeling this little toy will become super useful after a night of debauchery with the girls ...)

today was gonna be the day
but they'll never bring it back to you
by now you shoulda somehow
realized what you gotta do

Through the course of conversation with NewBoy last night, we discussed my character flaws. He mentioned in passing that he had noted my insecurities (did I just bust him out for reading here?). Well, it's true. I am a bit insecure. Again, I've spent the last five years of my life having my head toyed with by people and my trust betrayed and shattered by the people I've loved the most. This phenomenon can cause two things to happen in a woman's mind: she can either become insecure and slightly less self-assured, or she can completely flip the other way and be a cold and bitter bitch. I guess it's a good thing that I went the insecure route, eh?

Really, I'm not a clingy kind of person (with exception to this journal, of course ... I'm officially addicted to blogging). I'm fiercely independent, and have a total "let me just figure it out for myself" mentality. But I think my paranoia and knack for over-analyzation is starting to reach out and claim any possible relationship. And paranoia + control freak = a free trip to the padded cell.

Adding to today's random psychoanalysis: the neurosis that is J. He decided to surface. Apparently he has been ill all weekend, and has decided that a prudent course of action in a relationship (or whatever the hell this is) is to not call a woman for three days ... then pop up like nothing is wrong. Part of me wants to tell him, in no uncertain terms, to kiss my ass. But the other part of me, the Florence Nightingale part, wants to just sigh and forgive him. I think I'll let the email sit in my inbox for a little while longer before I decide which will win out ... my heart, or my head.

I'm Rick James, Bitch!
 
For some reason, NewBoy (the chosen name for now) has seen it fit to call me out.

He says that I can't "hang".  He thinks that he can just melt me into a puddle of goo. 

HA, I say.  HA HA. 

I am a hardened auditor, a mean mistress of financial dealings.  A bitch in the boardroom, as it were.   I have been jerked around by men for the past five years of my life - it's gonna take a lot to charm me out of my bikinis.  Although he's damn close.

Off to bed ... after burning up the phone for more than an hour, I need "a moment alone".  Sigh.

The Quote Of The Day.

On the phone with new boy that came crashing in yesterday ... his gem ...

"I respect your boundaries and your issues and shit."

Comic fucking genius.   That's the way to my heart, kids.

EDITOR'S NOTE:  This really did amuse me greatly.  The context in which it was said was perfectly timed.  Making me laugh is what charms me the most. 

Play that funky music, white girl.
 
OK, I admit it.  I'm avoiding writing a measly three-page paper on Employment Law.  I'm procrastinating.  Imagine that.  I'm about to cruise on in to the freezer and bust up some Pop-Ice, just to make me think a little harder (the sugar motivates my brain cells).  Thought I'd blog a bit about the tunes I'm spinning in my CD changer right now, and try to get you all to share the soundtrack of your life.

Currently playing at Chez Martini:

Shaking The Tree: Greatest Hits of Peter Gabriel
I just love "Solsbury Hill".  I honestly think that it is one of the best written songs of all time.  And also, the '83 remix version of I Have The Touch is fabulous, even though I'm smitten by the Heather Nova remake featured on The Craft soundtrack.
 
NKOTB: The Remixes, Disc 2 by Jordan Knight
This one needs no justification.  Jordan Knight is a demi-god.  I *heart* Jordan Knight.  I prefer Disc 2 though, as those are the (and I quote) "European mixes".  They are a little more edgy.

MCMXC a.D. by Enigma
The pulse-pounding driving rhythms of Enigma are always a winner.  Everyone knows Sadeness, but really I think the hottest song on that disc is Principles of Lust.    Enigma is total love-making music, in my opinion.  Men, take note:  candles + flowers + wine + Enigma = it's a sure thing ... you're SO gettin' laid.

What's in your changer?  Comment appropriately below.

Smatterings of sanity.
(otherwise known as "there is no real point to this post".)
 
Today is Sunday, July 25th.  It's an anniversary, of sorts ... it's been two weeks since I had sex.  I think I'm spiraling into a form of depression, as I've just pretty much slept my weekend away.  Jesus jumping Christ on a pogo stick, I forgot how much I missed sex.  Not just the regular rendez-vous with my b/o/b, but skin-on-skin, body-on-body sex.   I didn't realize how much, until I became a faithful reader of Koochie Taster ... that man could charm me out of my bikinis with his words.  This made me think ... hmm ... you know, if I'm going to not get any, then I could have just tolerated R's indiscretions and at least had some companionship.  So, I did what any sane single jailbait-kissing woman would do ... I bought a companion.  A fish.

Now, I realize that this isn't really earth-shattering news for most people, with one exception:  I'm a serial fishy murderer.  Every time I name a fish, it dies.    So really, I feel a twinge of guilt about actually getting another fish, but hey ... I'm just hoping that it's OK for a while.  I really like Betta fish.  The new fish is bluish-purple on his body, that fades into a bright red on his beautiful fins and tail.  He's pretty small, so I'm assuming he's fairly young.   I am determined not to continue my fishy-murdering streak.   I have embarked on an educational spree, starting with BettaTalk (highly recommended, if you have Betta fishies). 

Regarding my love life (or lack thereof):  I'm about ..:: thisclose ::.. to giving J the boot.  I mean, telling him to just fuck off.  I'm pretty tired of letting him mind-fuck me.  For instance, take this string of email from Friday:

-h.:  I have a date with a brutally hot chick tomorrow.  (think I'm taking myself to see Catwoman - there's just something about Halle Berry with a whip that drives me wild ...)

J:  Who is the brutally hot chick? She into group sex? Ha ha. :-P

-h.: Well, Halle Berry is a total hottie.  And I was informed today that I am a rather attractive woman (gasp!  sexual harassment in the workplace!).  So, I guess the answer to "who's the hottie" is "either woman".  And sorry, if Halle is into group sex, I get first dibs.  :)

J:  Oh I thought you meant you and a hot chick was going to see that show.

-h.:  Gee. Thanks.  So, what you're saying is that I don't make your "hottie" list.  Hmmm.  You're going to make me cry.  Wah.  (although I will give you that I pale in comparison to Halle.  She's tasty.)

J:  Don't you dare put words in my mouth, I never said that.

- end of meaningful discussion -

And then I don't hear from him for two fucking days?  Whatever.  WHAT THE HELL EVER.  If he wants a fuck-buddy, fine.  He's hot, great in bed, and I'm cool with that.  But if that's what he wants, he shouldn't expect me to babysit him all day at work, and listen to him piss and moan about his customers, aching back, blah blah blah.  He shouldn't be talking the "I want to be a family man, I'm tired of being a freak" line, if he doesn't f-ing mean it.   Don't talk shit about tying me up and making love to me all night long, and then don't call for two days.   Be a man, be honest, quit humping my brain with your juvenile bullshit.   You either want a piece of ass on the side, or you want a meaningful relationship with a woman, make up your GOD DAMNED MIND.   End of rant.

I guess this entire rant has been brought on by the fact that I got smacked upside the head with something (actually someone)  this weekend that I never expected in a million years.  I won't get into it yet, for fear that I will jinx it.  But I will just say, for now, that this could be fun.  I think I like this.  I KNOW I like this.  I just need to let my guard down and let it happen.

More later, I'm sure ... love to all.

9 PM EDIT (yes, P, I know I'm supposed to be writing my paper):   I generally hold my correspondence in the strictest confidence, asking permission to post any snippets (reference M's rant about folding her ass into her trash can and singing everyone's favorite song).  But I posted a very small part of the conversation between J and I because it seems that I whine about how he is mind-fucking me without concrete proof.  There is far more than this, of course, but this is a minor proof of the shit he throws at me and expects me to just wait around patiently for His Royal Hotness.  Just FYI.  Ahh, maybe chivalry is dead after all ... not all men can be polite and kind, right?

Allons,  allons au theatre!
 
I went on a hot date tonight - went to see The Bourne Supremacy.  I took myself to see it.  I've never been to see a movie by myself before, it was really unnerving.  I didn't have anyone to hold my hand, to laugh with, or to laugh at me when I jumped at the scary parts.  I don't think I'll be going to the movies by myself ever again.    It sucks ass.

The movie itself was pretty good.  I didn't really care for how it was shot, as the cameras were shaky (at best).  The plot was pretty good, and I look for there to be a third (is there a third book?).  Anyhow, I recommend seeing it, it's worth the $6.50 I paid for my ticket (god bless my student ID). 

Oh and dig this.  Apparently, I'm not as lame as I thought.  Some really hot high-school-looking (translated: jailbait) kid hit on me outside of Hollister.  I just smiled and asked him "honey, do you know how old I am?"  and he guessed 18 or 19.  I just kinda chuckled, and told him that I am nearly 28.  He just about fainted.  You could tell his buddies were over by Cup O Joe watching him work his "A" game, so I just grabbed him by the t-shirt neck, leaned over and whispered in his ear ... "just tell them that I have a boyfriend, and he's in college, and that I'm here visiting my parents from UNC.  Nice to meet ya."  I kissed him on the cheek, and just smiled as I walked away.   All I heard behind me was "DUDE!" from the guys.   I got a thrill about getting hit on, and he got a thrill for getting some random woman in the mall to kiss him (and leave a Lovechild smooch-mark on his cheek).  Everyone wins.

Ah well, time to go make myself some sort of bachelor chow.  I'll be around for the better part of the night, alone with Salem The Super Cat, if anyone's so inclined to drop me a line.  I'll be here snuggling under my beloved Vellux blanket.  Maybe I can rustle up some pizza rolls or some other delectable treat.

How "Playboy" of you.
 
Spawned by an very welcome and inquisitive e-mail from my new buddy Rhino, I give you my Playboy interview.   If there's more that you want to know, I'll gladly answer it.  Please leave me comments ... I like comments.  They make me happy. 

LIKES:
Sun
Carribbean
My job (hope I get to keep it)
Pageants (preferably Miss America)
MAC Makeup
Sex
Wine (preferably German whites)
Monkeys
Indie rock (although I've been known to love me some Britney too)

DISLIKES:
Getting jerked around by people
Stupid people
Mean people (Tucker Max-style mean is OK, truly hateful people are not OK)

Wow, I guess I'm pretty agreeable.  Hmm.

From a "Futurama" TV Advertisement:
YUM! Bachelor Chow... now with flavor!
 
It's weekends like this that are totally disconcerting.  I have plenty of delectable things in my fridge to cook.  Today will be a great day for yummy treats such as grilled salmon with mandarin orange glaze, as well as either some sugar snap peas or fresh asparagus.  But what do you think I'll actually eat?  Peanut butter sandwiches and Cap'n Crunch. 

Cooking for one person totally sucks. 

You know what sucks even worse?  Waking up early on a weekend, when you don't have to be at work.   Blah.

Subject Du Jour.
 
Today's subject was inspired by Murphy's new purchase.

Tell me about underwear.   I want to know the details ... good, bad, indifferent.

This will get you started:

1. I prefer bikinis.  I actually think string bikinis are manna from heaven.  I have been known to wear a hot thong or some yummy brazilian-cut tangas from time to time.  J prefers thongs.  I must buy more thongs.
2. J wears boxer-briefs.  In dark, jewel-tone colors.  They contrast nicely with the light shade of carpet on my bedroom floor.
3. I have a card in my wallet for a free pair of Pink underwear.  What's most disturbing about this is the fact that they are encouraging you to "bring your friends with you" and they will give each of you a free pair of undies.  Umm, ok ... how precisely would one breach that with their friends?  "Come on, let's go zoom over to VS and get some new drawers"?
4. R wears boxers or boxer-briefs.  I like him better in boxers.  At least from what I can remember, as it's been an awful long time since I've seen him in (or out of) his underwear.
5. I have never been with a man that wears tighty whiteys.   Or thongs.  I don't think I could deal with it, honestly. 
6. Underwear on a man are just as telling as underwear on a woman.  You can tell a lot about a person by what their unmentionables look like. 

So.  Tell me about your underwear.  Tell me about your significant other's undies.  Just talk panties to me, baby.

Because nothing sucks worse than feeling alone, no matter how many people are around.
-John "J.D." Dorian, in "Scrubs"
 
Today has been a rather miserable day.  First and foremost, TheFirm announced today that it was cutting yet another 2,000 jobs.  My division, by reason of low interest rates and small rates of mortgage default, is what you could call "upside down".  Consequently, most folks in my department spent a good portion of the day polishing their resumes and surfing the job boards.  It has been obvious that our good friends in HR prefer to do the slashing on a Monday morning, so I'm a wee bit paranoid for the weekend.  I've been downsized before, and it's not pleasant.  And it's also feeling pretty "familiar" in my little cubic-hell.

Adding to my paranoia: J.  I'm what you might call the "Florence Nightingale" type, I want to just "fix" everything.  This whole just stepping back and letting it "happen" thing is not what I'm used to.  Princess and I have a lot in common ... both of us like to ask "WHY WHY WHY", and then throw a tantrum when we don't get our way.  I'm an assertive woman, I've never made a secret of that, and I've never apologized for it.  I'm not passive, so standing back and letting someone else do the "pursuing" is a concept that's totally lost on me.  But, as per a discussion with Gal-Pal earlier today, I think it's a situation that could pan out if I just let it.  But I'm not going to go back to the "Not So Happy Place" that I was in with the whole R thing.   While I'm trying to clear my head, I even "hid" my match.com profile.  I have a lot of crap going on inside my head right now, and I don't think it's a good idea to pursue a new relationship of any type until the whole J thing gets resolved.

This weekend, I plan on going to see a movie.  I'm shining up my student I.D., and headed to the AMC.  If I have a date, great.  If I don't, that's fine too.   On Saturday during the day, I'll have to go into work (it's disaster recovery testing time). 

But you know, what?  Being alone is a bitch.   I mean, it's pretty cool for the first few hours and all, but pretty soon I get pretty lonely.  I just want someone to laugh at the same jokes, to make fun of the same people, and to watch a movie with.  Today would have been a perfect day for me to unlock the front door, drop my Kate Spade on the floor, and have someone just silently wrap their arms around me and let me sob and tremble uncontrollably ... all the while just telling me "shhh, it'll be OK, don't worry."  

It's days like today that I miss R.  I don't mean just miss him being around ... I mean I really really miss him.  It's hard to not just open up and tell him what's wrong, and just unload everything on him, and get it all out.  But we continue to do this dance where we don't talk about "others".  It's really dysfunctional, in a quite charming sort of way.

(now with tasty edited goodness at 11:54 PM)

The more things change, the more they remain...insane.
Michael Fry & T. Lewis, Over the Hedge, 05-09-04
 
So, I spent some time chatting with J tonight.  Things are "strained", at best.  The playful banter just doesn't seem to flow quite so freely from my mouth, as I'm apparently letting my head lead again.   I'm afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing for right now, and just kind of walking on eggshells with him.  Is it wrong to just want to rewind a day or so?  I want to go back to the giddiness of the centrifuge of infatuation I was spinning in a week ago. 

I think that this can be fixed, eventually.  But the question now is: am I willing to try?  I mean, I just spent the last few months trying to get my head out of my ass with the whole R thing, and I find myself back in a similar position with a new beau.   What the hell?

I am Princess-less for the remainder of the weekend, so my social schedule is particularly flexible.  I think giving J until Sunday to get his shit together is a fair amount of time, don't you? 

But J, although the base of my issues and my main emotional stressor, isn't the only stressor in my life right now. 

Add in work stress: First thing Monday morning, they let go 125 people in my division alone.  And the best part?  We were informed that it was just round one.  It is estimated that TheFirm will eliminate nearly 10,000 jobs ... I wasn't worried about it impacting me until today.  J was out on installs all day long, so I didn't have him to call me and keep my mind off of everything.

Add in R stress: he's sick.  He stopped by to pick up the Princess tonight, and you can tell he's ill just by looking at him.  When he's really sick, his eyes get pink around the rims, and he's really ill. 

Add in insomnia stress: I haven't been sleeping well again.  I think my body just wants to think and think and think - and not sleep.  I get like this when I have a lot of things going on in my life, and I usually just medicate it with any random analgesic that ends in "PM".   I'm going on my fourth consecutive night of needing to PM it to get any rest. 

And in closing, today's Martini-ism.  This gem came from an IM conversation with MAV about a hottie boy ... "I'm not the best person to ask right now.  I am a bumbling retard that needs beat senseless.   ..::pause::..  Oh my god don't say retarded."

More tasty blogs!  YUM!

Check out:  A Girl And Her Life - Tuesday Girl's a riot!

And: The Real Bunny Blog - Tucker Max's ex-girlfriend (who is totally hot, and totally bisexual ... Add her to my "list" ...)

Some days you're the windshield
Some days you're the bug.

Like Murphy, I am in a very "poor, but civil mood today." After yesterday afternoon's ... umm ... "discussion" with J, I bailed on work a little early to "clear my head". For me, clearing my head generally involves driving my truck at unsafe speeds, while blaring some sort of angry rock music, with the windows down and the wind blowing my hair everywhere to kind of "blow the negative off" of me. My speed is usually proportionate to the amount of emotional stress I'm under. Yesterday, the highway of choice was I-270, and the music of choice was Evanescence and Linkin Park. We won't discuss what the speed of choice was, but shall we just say that I covered a significant amount of ground in a half-hour?

So, riddle me this: why am I hung up on this whole "J" thing? I keep re-visiting this in my head, and I'm not coming up with any constructive answers. Do I just have this personality that only is addicted to hot men that work in the IT industry? I didn't ASK for him to just come barging into my life, he just DID. I think I just am meant to be alone, with the occasional booty call for my own personal satisfaction. Because I apparently am not proficient at keeping any type of relationship afloat. Maybe B rubbed off on me in January.

Something that amused me this morning: Heard an ad on the radio for True.com. This dating website pre-screens all applicants for marital status and criminal records. What kind of a society do we live in? Granted, I've been naive enough to have not flat-out asked about the whole marital status thing before, but I guess I just take forgranted the fact that not everyone is as honest and ethical as I am. But really ladies, in today's age of technology, don't you (at bare minimum) Google any potential date prior to accepting? I know that I do, it's just a safety measure. I won't even give out my work or Gmail address to anyone until I'm sure I can trust them, let alone my home phone number. It frightens me that there is a niche market for a dating website that offers these services. Then again, at the rate I'm going, I'll be looking for a hookup on "www.OldBitterSpinsters.com" soon.

The short list.
(a two-posts-in-one-day treat!)
 
Well, since I can't sleep, even after taking a Tylenol PM, I will just sit here and write.  How's about a list of "What's Important In A Mate."  Feel free to add your own suggestions in the comments.

1.  Most important:  Someone that loves my daughter like she was their own kid.  She's the best kid in the whole wide world, and she deserves to be happy. 

2.  Someone with a sense of humor.  It takes a very special person to put up with me, and that someone had better be able to laugh at my bad jokes.

3.  Someone that has the nerve to have flowers delivered to me at work.  Not a dozen roses or anything like that ... just a small bouquet would totally brighten my cubic-hell, as well as put a smile on my face for the rest of the week.  A well-written card would certainly earn extra bonus points ... I'm pretty sure a "secret admirer" bouquet would send me into the stratosphere right now.  Maybe I need to just buy my own flowers, as I'll likely die waiting for anyone to send me some at the rate I'm going.

4.  Someone that unselfishly will fold my clean laundry.  I don't mind washing it, but folding it really seems to be beyond my realm of responsibility.  I would be fine with never folding my laundry ever again.

5.  I'm tired now.  Maybe I'll think of more tomorrow.  I've had enough wallowing in my own self pity for one afternoon. 

I shall call him squishy and he shall be mine ... and he shall be my squishy!
Come on, squishy ... come on, little squishy!
OWWW!  Bad squishy, bad squishy!
 
You know, maybe Dory isn't that far off.   Love is a lot like the squishy.  You think it's all cute and cuddly ... and you are so drawn to it that you just can't keep your mind off of it.  You have to reach out and touch it, just to test it ...
 
And then, the little bastard stings you.
 
Today's conversation with J started gently enough, with the usual "hey how are you" blah blah blah.  Then, of course, it got raunchy rather quickly.  The conversation twisted and turned from sex, to anal sex (inspired by the Tucker Tries Buttsex story, I presume), to threesomes, to swinging, to his complete revelation about some of his past with an ex-girlfriend that was a total freak (as in, Madonna-in-the-early-90s kind of freak).  This of course inspired a tangent in the conversation about what the deal was with he and I (he started it).  I, of course, thought for a full hour before replying to it, and my soul-baring introspection freaked him out a bit, I think.  The gist of it was something to the effect of:

• How I found it absolutely charming that he was so worried about me living alone.  There was an instance of local dummies getting drunk and shooting each other last Sunday night while he was here, and he is still talking about it.  He's lived in Columbus his entire life, so he knows that what imbiciles we don't breed here ... well, they just get imported from other cities in Ohio.
• How I was burned out on doing stupid things with even stupider people, and that I was burned out on being my anal-retentive and analytical self.
• How I had spent my entire life being analytical and risk-averse, and "while it's been very beneficial and profitable in my professional life, it's surely not done wonders for my personal life. "
• And finally, the kicker (or the nail in the coffin, as it were): How I was tired of always listening to my head, and that it was high time I listened to my heart.  And also, and I quote: "I really enjoy having you around.  A lot.  I don't regret last Sunday, not a bit.  But I also want to spend the time to learn more about you, spend time doing things with you, and really give this a try."  (Loose translation:  You're hot, great in bed, and a lot of fun.  But if this is going anywhere, damn it, step up and be a man and say so.  Otherwise, cut me loose and let me get back to my busy life of whining and moping about.  Thanks.)

To all of this ... there was no immediate reply.  Fuck.

There was other sassy retorts to other things, but a response to all that went unsaid.  I know he got the email.  Double fuck.

At what point do I just get to be alone for the rest of my life?  I think I'm damn near there. 

Today's smile of the day:  R dropped me a note to remark that he made sure to enclose a CD he burned for me in a bright yellow envelope, as he knew it was my favorite color.  I replied that he just was saying that, and that it was a mere coincidence.  He then replied with something to the effect that he had planned it that way.  I was flattered that he even remembered something as trivial as my favorite color.  This made me smile, and I really needed it.  Everyone else had spent the day mind-fucking me.  And for once ... one of the people making me nuts wasn't R.  Damn, that's a first.

Possibly more updates later, after Princess is in bed.  She's watching "MEEEE-MOE" for about the 15,387th time.  Sigh.

It's A Fabulous Day!
Here's A New Blog To Love!
 
Check out M's (aka Mrs. Knight) blog ... Princess Mombi's Mis-Adventures.  No new J news, waiting for him to get back from, as his away message says, "spanking a monkey".  I don't know whether to find this amusing, or ... weird. 

This thought gives me pause.

I mentioned to a friend in passing that I'm an avid blogger. She said "that's really cool and all, but what would happen if one of the subjects of your journal rants actually READ it?"

This thought gave me pause (I'm just full of "Fish-isms" lately). I've given R the link before, a while ago, but I'm not sure if he's ever bothered to read here. But if he did, it wouldn't bother me, really. He pretty much knows everything there is to know about me, to a point. I mean, come on, the man has seen me give birth ... there ain't much to hide after that one. I haven't mentioned the existence of J to him, because that's just something that we just don't talk about (other relationships). For some reason, that part of our lives is "off limits" in daily discussions.

What if J actually got here, by some random act of Googling? Hmm. Now, THIS thought gives me pause. I'm still in the whole "do I really want to pursue this relationship" phase of things (more on that in a minute). It would be a totally unfair advantage for him to be able to scroll through my past six months, and learn about all of my idiosyncracies and insecurities, all in one fell swoop. Granted, I'm no more nutso than any other woman out there, I just happen to be able to be open about (and laugh at) most of my shortcomings.

This is what I hate about dating: The "Game" of it all. It's the constant wondering what the other person is thinking, the total worrying about what the future will hold, if anything, and the stress and strain of just the "right amount" of communication (I tend to "over communicate" with people). With someone that you've been with for a while, there's a certain level of comfort that you have. You comfortably know what the other person is thinking, whether their fears are unfounded, and you pretty much know where you "stand". But on the flip side, the dizzying centrifuge of infatuation is really intoxicating. The way a person's smell sticks in your mind, the way it feels when their lips brush yours ... the way you catch them looking at you and brushing the hair off your face in the middle of the night. That's intoxicating.
 
But soon, the intoxication of a new relationship gives way to the "daily grind" of paying bills and going to work. The question then becomes: is this someone that will still love me if I have the flu and don't shave my legs for a week? At this point, I don't know if J's that kind of guy. And as we all know, the control freak in me HATES not knowing things like this.

Maybe arranged marriages aren't such a bad thing after all.

WHOO HOOO!  THE DAY JUST GETS BETTER!
 
Check it out ... TUCKER MAX IS BACK!  Line up your credit cards, kiddies ... subscriptions will cost a mere $15 a year.  I promise, if you've never read Tucker's stuff, he's well worth the money.  He has raunch that I can't even DREAM of touching.  OK, maybe I dream of achieving his raunch factor someday ... but it's not likely.  Anyhow, check it out ... my fave site is BACK!

Like Manna From Heaven.
 
Did ya hear?  Jordan Knight is going to be on The Surreal Life 3.  I will be GLUED to the TV when it's on, just on the off-chance that he gets naked.

Oops.

I just taught my kid the worst thing ever.

She can now go "WEH WILLLEEEEE!" and lick her finger and jam it in your ear.

Oops.

Adventures in children's television.

I'm watching TV with Princess right now, and I have a screaming migraine (I guess I asked for it, because I didn't have any Imitrex in the house, and haven't for a long time). I'm traumatized by an episode of Oswald that's on right now.

Oswald (an octopus that mysteriously walks around the streets whilst wearing a teeny little black top hat) is celebrating "Big Banana Day". He just remarked to his dog: "Weenie, I'm so glad we could share our big banana with everyone!" Christ on a cracker, it's like hidden porn.

Even worse: Oswald is voiced by Fred Savage (of Wonder Years fame). This whole endeavor makes me feel ... dirty.

and all the roads we have to walk are winding
and all the lights that lead us there are blinding
there are many things that i would
like to say to you
but i don't know how

Last night and today made me come to some stunning realizations. Epiphanies, if you will. Shall we start with yesterday?

At 9 AM yesterday, I got a phone call and frantic email from a friend at work. She informed me that Princess' sitter (her sitter as well) was having her baby ... three weeks early. I had a training class to lead yesterday afternoon, and could not bail out on it. Consequently, I had to make R go to get her at noon. He was less than thrilled, I think, but I believe he secretly was thrilled that he could get out of work. I was cranky, because people had been screwing with me since I walked through the door yesterday morning, and J was out on installs all day yesterday (so, no torrid email to keep my spirits up).

After work, I went home to change my clothes, and cruised over to R's house. Although it looked suspiciously like rain, we still cruised to the baseball game. Princess had a blast, she kept singing "unnnn ... twoooo ... free strike ... YOU OUT!" She actually made it through three and a half innings, nearly four! She likes "base-uh-ball"! She was super tired when we got home at nearly 10:30, and passed out without argument until almost 9:00 AM.

And to answer the burning questions: No, I didn't wear "the good underwear" (just plain ol' orange cotton bikinis). Nothing happened, and really, nothing's going TO happen I think. I mean, I had a great time, really I did. But I don't know if that pure animal magnetism is there anymore. We were more like two buddies going out for the night, complete with a game of "Real Or Silicone?" ... which I won by a significant margin. I guess I just don't "burn" for R like I used to. I don't have that "tingle" like I had before. Maybe I just needed last night to be "sure" about what I felt. And you know what? I sat there in the stands, drinking a beer, and kept letting my mind wander ... straight to J.

Today, I made two seperate trips to R's house. He worked really really hard to get a computer system up and running for me today. He's a great friend. I owe him a HUGE HUGE debt, as he has totally hooked me up.

So, anyhow, back to J (as that is what I most feel like thinking about right before I go to bed). I think there's more to the whole J thing that just him being hot, and great sex. I mean, yeah, those things are SUPER welcome. But it's an emotional understanding, a connection that goes deeper than just between the sheets. This scares me. As Fish would say ... "hmmm. This troubles me greatly." I think I've done my fair share of stupid things with even stupider people since seperating from R, and I think I'm frightened of becoming emotionally intimate with someone else. I guess I'm just afraid to have my heart broken again. I haven't emotionally invested myself in anyone I've dated since splitting from R (face it, T was a "rebound" that wouldn't have panned out regardless of his situation).

I suppose it all comes down to this:

and maybe
you're gonna be the one that saves me
and after all
you're my wonderwall

So.
 
After having a teeny little MINOR freak out on J earlier today, I finally got my shit together.  I think I just needed the proverbial "pat on the head" and told that everything is OK.  I'm a bit gun-shy about relationships since pouring my heart out to R and being ignored, and then trusting T (only later to find out he's married).  And I did what any other respectable professional woman would do - I took it out on my coworkers. 
 
I just stayed put in my own little cubic-hell all day long, sullen all the while, and then left at about 4:45.  I went home and promptly passed out on the couch.  My back-up computer is hosed as well, so I think I am just going to give up on technology all together.  I'm at the stupid library again, just in case you were wondering where this post came from. 
 
On to other news:  Have Clippers tickets tomorrow night, taking Princess and R to the game.  It's supposed to be fabulously gorgeous outside, I'm planning on enjoying me some "ott dawggie" (as Princess says) and a beer at the ballpark.  What will transpire with the R situation?  No one really knows.  What do I want to happen?  Again, no one really knows.  The age-old question shall linger ... do I wear the "good underwear" just in case?
 
I think maybe my minor freak-out with J stemmed from the fact that I knew that tomorrow was coming, and that I wanted to not feel guilty about going out (or whatever you call it) with someone else (that I quite obviously have feelings for but have shut them up for obvious reasons) in the same week - after I'd just bedded someone who quite possibly could pan out into a real and serious relationship.  I try not to bring R up when I'm around J, as it makes him a tad bit jealous that we still are so close.  OK, so maybe I slide it in purposely from time to time ... but not too often. 
 
But today's discussion with J was left at the fact that neither of us want to move too fast and "burn out" on the other.  We're taking our time enjoying what the other has to offer, learning all about each other slowly, and having some incredibly great sex along the way.  And hey - the day ended fabulously ... I learned that J has a huge "naughty librarian" fantasy.  Maybe I should wear my glasses more often ...

The apocalypse is completely upon us.

The world is officially out of balance. I am not in power in a relationship.

This is a really odd predicament that I find myself in. In all prior relationships (save for R, of course), I have always been in the position of power in a relationship. To quote Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, "I decide who, I decide when, I decide ... who..." But in all reality, the power-holder with J and I is ... J. Hold your startled gasps, kiddies. Because 'tis true ... your fair Martini finds herself a bit submissive to His Royal Hotness.

Surrendering power in any relationship, be it personal or professional, has always given me a problem. I've always been a leader and not a follower, so it's hard for me to relinquish control and just "let things happen". I am a true Aries woman, I like to MAKE things happen. And J, being the total Libra that he is, is very laid back and non-committal about things. Don't misunderstand me, I'm not looking to "settle down" again this quickly, but with J it seems to be one of those "I'll call you later tonight" and later either ends up being at like, 10 PM or not at all. This behavior, while usually typical of the beginning of a relationship, is not acceptable to me whatsoever.

I get very annoyed when I leave my meager amount of free time open for someone, and then they abuse the privilege. VERY ANNOYED. To me, it's a respect thing. I will not deal with someone that disrespects me like that. Regardless of how absolutely smokin' hot they are. Regardless of how great they are in bed. OK. Maybe I can overlook a little bit of flighty-ness if they're great in bed. And maybe I can tolerate it if they are really really hot.

Um, just disregard the entire prior rant, please. I'm just pissed off at my computer, pissed off at work, and pissed off in general. I think I need laid.

A revealing look at my psyche.

How to charm me:
Tell me I'm the cutest nerd you've ever seen. And mean it.
Send me sordid email in the middle of the work-day, just to make me smile. And blush.
Remind me that eating Pop-Tarts and drinking soda for breakfast (and saltines and Coke for dinner) is OK sometimes.
Let me catch you gently brushing my hair off my face in the middle of the night.
Call me, for no reason whatsoever, in the middle of the day. The only real purpose of the call is just to say "hi".
Kiss me gently on the end of my nose.
Tell me that my daughter is the cutest kid in the whole wide world. And mean it.

How to annoy me:
Send my computer destructive viruses.
Try to make me look incompetent at work, then go hide behind your voice mail when I drown you with concrete proof that I'm not.

How to turn me on:
Gently kiss my collarbone.
Wrap your arms around me from behind, and exhale slowly on the back of my neck.
Kiss me while your hands are on my face.

How to make my day:
Mail me a BRAND SPANKIN NEW Kate Spade. THANK YOU, DRAMA QUEEN - you rock the house.

Holy Hotness, Batman!

OK ... here's the weekend scoop.

Friday - came home from work, ate saltine crackers and drank Coke for dinner (the preferred meal of bachelorettes, obviously), fell asleep on couch.

Saturday - Decided that it would be prudent to clean my house from top to bottom. Spent all day doing so.

Sunday - Went to a party in the afternoon, then out with a few friends. Ate sinful amounts of Red Robin fries. Went home, forgot that J was coming over, promptly fell asleep on couch. Woke up, startled, to His Royal Hotness knocking at my door at 10:30 (had dinner plans w/ his sister, and got done late). Is it POSSIBLE for this man to be any damned hotter?!? I think not, as he showed up wearing his glasses ... silver rounded-frame wire rims. And shorts, so you can see his very muscley legs. :)

I could talk to him for HOURS. Well, I did. Anyhow, at about 2:30 - I told him just to stay, there's no point in his driving home (40 mins south from me, easy) and then driving back in the AM (he works 5 mins north of me). I expected him to be like, "I can't do that ... blah blah blah." But he went out and grabbed his bag. Presumptuous of him? Maybe. Amusing? Definitely.

It all started out very very innocent. And I'm not one to "kiss and tell". But alas ... I'm VERY tired this AM. I really toyed with calling off. But may I say that my sleepy-ness was well deserved and WELL worth it. Saying that I'm smitten is an absolute understatement. I could still smell his cologne lingering in the air downstairs when I left this morning (he had to leave 5 mins before me). I just stood there and took it in for a brief moment, before I left for work. He's incredible. I'm a lucky, lucky, LUCKY woman, indeed.

Analysis of the situation, in "SportsCenter" format:
J is 100% hot.
I am 110% smitten.
J makes great arm candy.
I don't mind making him my arm candy.
Waking up next to him was weird. But in a really good way.
I am 100% TIRED.
And it was 200% worth it.

A real, live library. They do exist!

Got a call this AM mandating an email tree test for work (remember I head up a disaster recovery team). Of course, the first AND ONLY test I've had to do since working for TheFirm (not unlike the Tom Cruise movie) falls on the one damned weekend that I don't have access to a computer. So, consequently, off to the library I go!

I haven't been in one of these places since Princess was a tiny baby and I went to a LLL meeting. I miss the privacy of my own home computer, where I can read all the sordid email from J in my own private spot. Because there is email. And yes it is sordid. ..::swoon::..

Thought I'd check in and drop y'all a line ... if for no other reason than DramaQueen pointed out that there are SCANDALOUS ads on here ... ads for the RNC! ..::gasp::.. OH THE HORROR! I had to see the blasphemy for myself, and ACK there they are.

I have spent my "unplugged" weekend cleaning my house from top to bottom. My boudoir is now spotless, I still have some items of clothing to hang up, but I ran out of hangers! Have to go to buy some more soon, and finish my closet. I have about 5 boxes of stuff to donate (put them in Princess' room, as she's never in there but to sleep), but my room is SPOTLESS. I haven't worried much about it since I moved in, as there haven't really been any "visitors" to it. But with the possibility of a relationship with a certain someone heating up, I think it's high time that I cleaned it. No excuses for not gettin any now ... I was using the old "my room is a mess" justification to myself. Not any more! Dig this ... I even MADE MY BED. Gal-Pal ... yes, with those funky pillows I bought when I was out there last time, the ones I had to cram in your bag to schlep home! The whole nine yards!

Love to all, hope to be happily blogging from home again soon! Off to check in on my Bloggie-Buddies, then off to a party. See ya!

Cooties!

Hey all - gonna be out all weekend, but not by choice.

Apparently, someone has decided it would be GREAT FUN to hack into my computer (got my IP addy from a comment I left somewhere, I'm assuming), destroy my personal firewall, and infect it w/ some virus crap (Sasser, I think). I can't clean it, it's too far gone with all the rest of the crap that's on it as is. I can boot it in Safe Mode, but booting LNG doesn't work. Apparently my boot sector is jacked, so ... I give up. I just left it @ the sitter's for R to pick up tonight, and take and reformat it over the weekend. He can Ghost it, and save all my photos and school files (I'll cry if I lose all my law briefs), and then just reformat the stupid thing. ..::sigh::.. He's going to load it up w/ BlackIce again (it sucks my memory, that's why I told him to take it off before). I'm just glad I keep all my financial info at work, as I DARE anyone to get past this security. (Hacking into a financial institution = Federal offense).

My level of resistance was totally worn down last night, as I was already frustrated w/ my computer to the point of wanting to punt it out into the front yard. Add in: My major project that I've put my freaking LIFE into at work launched today, and last night I was was freaked out. I worry until things like that are all said and done. Plus, I managed just now to snap my underwire in my bra (don't ask me how I managed that one). Now I have a wire poking me in my left boob, on top of everything else.

Is it socially acceptable and professional behavior for me to ball up in the fetal position under my desk and rock and mutter to myself: "find a happy place ... find a happy place ... find a happy place ..."

Things that turn me on.

1. John Edwards. The Democratic ticket is enough to make any good liberal cream her jeans. Mr. Edwards is everything that Mr. Kerry is not ... attractive, smooth, attractive, self-made, attractive (see a pattern here?). Dare I say it ... John Edwards turns me on. Damn good thing he's happily married, or I'd have to go all Monica Lewinsky on his shit.

2. J. Recall that I said yesterday that nothing was sexual. Somehow, conversation turned to the sexual today. We have established that I am the freak of the two of us (no, really?) and that we are really similar creatures (serial monogamists). We really get along quite well. I like this. The *spark* really is there. Where will this go? No one knows. But I really am enjoying the ride, that's for sure. He pushes my buttons, he knows just what to say, and how to say it. There is some serious potential there.

3. Independence. You realize that not once today did I email or call R. And really, it was because I didn't think about him. This is the first day in a really long time that he didn't cross my mind. He called after Princess was in bed, regarding our dog (SuperPup stays with R, because I don't have a yard). All about his shots, and that he got into a fight with a dog while on a walk today. But I didn't chat long, as Princess got a bit of a fuss on, and I had to cut the conversation short to console her. We have plans to go to a Clippers game, and I'm not exactly sure what his intentions are (I asked him to go to my company night out with myself and Princess, and he accepted). We shall see what happens on July 16th. I think that I'm in a place in my life right now that I don't "need" him any more. If he decides, after the great time at BL last week, he wants for this to be a "more than friends" situation again, he'll make it so then. If not, I will eventually let him on on the J thing (because it will have been blatantly obvious that he doesn't see me in "that way" anymore). We shall see, as I've played my hand - it's high time that he either calls it, or folds it.

4. Mike Valpredo. He certainly makes it easy to wake up every morning. Maybe I can start a fan club. Think he would be offended? Anyone want to join?

I'm officially smitten.

J has me firmly wrapped around his little finger. That man knows exactly what to say, and when to say it, to get to me. There's nothing sexual about it, really (not to say there won't be in the future). I'm just ... smitten.

I still am wary, I want to know what "the catch" is. He's hot (proven by my unscientific "Hot Or Not?" poll ... want to participate, just email me). He's intelligent. He's a professional. And did I mention ... hot?

Off to get homework done, have a scheduled chat for my class at 9 EST, and then off to chat with J more tonight, I'm sure.

Diamonds are a girl's best friend.
important: all links within this post are NSFW.

I tend to disagree. I know many women that rave about their ... umm ... Bob. As in, Battery Operated Boyfriends. This has been the subject of many discussions amongst my girlfriends and I over the past few years, and I'd like to open the discussion to those in the "Peanut Gallery" here. What do you have, what do you like, what would you not recommend? Guys, are you threatened by Bob?

When I moved out of R's house, I left my Rabbit there. I am still lamenting its loss, particularly since I have been getting absolutely NO real-life lovin lately. I purchased a smaller one whilst in STL with Gal-Pal, but it's just not the same. siiiiiigh ...

Anyhow ... comment away, you perverts. And yes, Drama Queen ... the raunch is officially back. :)

One Ticket To Hell, Please.

A gem from Rance's comments. Enjoy.

Tommy goes into a confessional box and says, "Bless me father, for I have sinned. I have been with a loose woman."

The Priest says, "Is that you Tommy?"

"Yes father, it is I."

"Who was the woman you were with?"

I cannot tell you... For I do not wish to sully her reputation."

The priest asks, "Was it Brenda O'Malley?"

"No father."

"Was it Fiona MacDonald?"

"No father."

The priest says I admire your perseverance but you must atone for your sins. Your penance will be five Our Fathers and four Hail Marys.

Tommy goes back to his pew and his friend asks, "What did he give you?"

Tommy replies, "Five Our Fathers, four Hail Marys and two good leads."


(Here's to better days, better jokes, and quicker bartenders. Amen.)

Thanks to our "Commander-in-Chief" for ruining my friend Penny's holiday.

Penny's holiday got cut short because of Shrub's appearance in her town (she's a newscaster), and she had to go back early to see him. That sucks.

While we're on the subject ... a big THANKS to his douchebag partner in crime, Cheney, too.

His motorcade drove through Akron yesterday, and a bunch of the roads were clogged with the hill-jacks waving at it. This did not thrill me. I, of course, communicated my feelings in a far more appropriate and First-Amendment-Friendly style.

Yup, I flipped him the bird.

You've got mail!
(God, I love that sound ...)

Is it possible to miss someone that you've just recently met?

Today, the majority of the free world (at least here at the new JPMorganChase, anyway) took a vacation day. But alas, your fair Martini is resigned to working. As part of my job, I am solely responsible for the coordination of the disaster recovery planning and testing for my department (one which has nearly 250 employees, nearly 100 full-time contractors, all of which are situated across five sites and three time zones). Our testing is coming up soon, so I'm spending the majority of my time readying for that. So, I had to work today. This sucks.

Anyhow, J and I have been burnin up the WWW with our email back-and-forth during the days. Nothing shameful, mind you, just banter back and forth. Well, and of course ... some obtuse fliration and/or dirty thoughts ... you would be disappointed in me if it was just "small talk", wouldn't you? It certainly does make my days go by much more quickly! It is really nice to feel that you are important to someone - as I haven't felt that way in a really long time. In fact, I arrived this morning (after an off-site meeting) to a short and sweet email just letting me know that he would be in and out all day, but would miss "talking" to me. Boys, pay attention to his technique ... that, gentlemen, is the way to woo a lady.

Women really aren't complex creatures, as most relationship counsellors and "experts" would have you believe. Truly, all we want is to feel wanted and needed (but not smothered), the occasional bouquet of flowers (something more original than a dozen grocery-store roses, please. Picking a few wildflowers means much more than a $100 dozen of roses, anyhow - it really is the thought that counts), and some good sex every-so-often (some of us more often than others). Oh, and of course, an occasional monkey every once in a while makes you a winner, boys.

After the long string of disappointment that has plagued my life lately, it's nice to have something that makes me smile like this. Between R and his complusive indecisiveness, T and his MARRIAGE, B and his inability to sustain a relationship outside of the bedroom ... a "normal" man is a VERY welcome thing!

Off to mom and dad's for the Holiday weekend (July 4th, for you out-of-towners), with my sweet Princess. Barbeques and fun in the sun will abound, that's for sure! I'll do my best to check in with y'all this weekend.

Want to touch my monkey?

Just testing gmoney's theory ... do the people like monkeys? And even more so, do people prefer pictures of monkeys?


photo courtesy: the columbus zoo