It's Jerky. Made from Turkey.

It's TurkeyJerkyTurkeyJerkyTurkeyJerkyTurkeyJerkyTurkeyJerky, oh, TurkeyJerkyTurkeyJerkyTurkeyJerkyTurkeyJerkyTurkeyJerky, hey, TurkeyJerkyTurkeyJerkyTurkeyJerkyTurkeyJerkyTurkeyJerkyTurkeyJerky, yeah!

Oh, my sweet, darling turkey jerky, how I have missed you. We have been apart for far too long. Perhaps that is the real reason I have not been eating this last month. I have been stricken by my need for you. Who needs men. I have you, lovely turkey jerky.

Nom nom nom

The harsh barren world of dating

I'm not cynical. Okay, I am sometimes, but not about everything. But I have turned into the cynical godzilla of the dating world. Even as I type this I am setting up a date with a fellow who seems like a lot of fun. There is a good chance that the only reason why "what are you wearing" didn't come up was because I am a master of re-directing conversations. Unfortunately that means I have no idea if I am going to be walking into a date or into a "great movie now let's have sex" kind of situation. The reason I know I am the cynical godzilla is because if I didn't stop to write down all the options the first one would not have even occured to me. How many people out there really meet the love of their lives on blind dates, or through agencies? Besides the ones in the commercials. You go on a date and don't put out there probably won't be another date. If you go and put out there probably won't be another date, just lots of bed play. Not that bed play isn't wonderful, but sometimes going outside is too.
Not to mention that the ex has had to come to my rescue a few too many times this last week. The only way I have been able to sleep is knowing someone was watching out for me. And he has been the one most able to check on me. I don't want to hurt his feelings, because I still care deeply about him, but I know part of him wants me to change my mind, and the more I talk to him the more he will think I am changing it. That's not fair to either of us.
So here I sit in the harsh world of dating, and feeling guilty about wanting to be here.

Shaky...

I went in to Urgent Care today after I had an...interesting... experience while typing. My hurt felt as though it stopped. Then it began to hurt and the pain wouldn't go away. So I went in. They did tests for digestional problems, but the tests were inconclusive. So they just switched my medications up. Now I am faced with the prospect of starting new anxiety meds, which is causing me some serious anxiety issues... Funny, that.

Shaking

Ugh. A few days have passed and while I have been eating a little better I have been waiting for today to start a slow and easy work out routine. I was rather excited. Instead I woke up every few hours from some bizarre dreams I could not remember, unable to see the difference between whatever I was dreaming about and the real world. A little disconcerting. I finally rolled out of bed about a half hour ago and I feel like crap. It's going to be a bad attack day. Maybe not one big bad one, but probably one of those days where they just don't stop. Not sure how I feel about starting a work out routine. Although I am considering walking to the grocer rather than driving. I would like a bag of pretzels, I only have meal food in the house and if I get into snack mode I will eat a meal instead. Not good. The grocer is about a 30 minute walk one way. Mostly flat ground. If I leave now it won't be too hot. It is still early enough in the morning that the humidity hasn't kicked in yet either. Although if I am caught out there when it does I will be in big trouble...

And then I realized

Have you ever flirted with someone so long you forgot what made you want to? I have casually flirted with a fellow from work for months. Nothing serious, you know: "anything for you" kind of comments. I was looking at him today and I honestly cannot remember why I started to flirt with him. I don't necessarily find him attractive. I don't find him funny. I don't find him to be an intellectual equal. So why did I ever start to flirt with him? And now that I have come to this realization will I continue?

Lyrical Layage

On the board that I currently live in there is a section called Flame Wars. That's where all the naughty, curse-y, not-safe-for-children stuff happens. A while back a fellow named Eldi (No, not his real name. You want his real name, you ask him.) started a thread titled "If you could have sex with...". It was a really neat idea. Instead having us think about who we would like to boink, we were to say what song we would like to boink. It stumped me. I love music, and I will listen to anything once. But what song gets under my skin, makes me want to have sex with it's bad ass non-corporeal self? It bothered me that I have never been affected in that way by a song. The songs that I like the most tend to be the one's that make me have a strong emotional reaction. Not because they make me think of something that gives me a strong reaction, but because they (the song itself) gives me a strong reaction. For instance :

• Never Again by Nickelback - Anger. Boiling blood anger. It pisses me off. I feel so light after listening to it.
• Ojos Asi by Shakira - Elation. When I dance to it I feel like I am dancing in the clouds every time.
• Fuel by Metallica - Excitement. My nerves dance and I feel as though if I stand completely still the world will implode.
• Return to Me by Dean Martin - Sadness. I have never cried while listening to it, but I ache inside.

It's obvious, at least to me, that music has a direct connection to my blood. I need it, to the point where if I don't hear some sort of music after a few hours I start to sing, creating it myself. Yet it was so hard to come up with a song that made me feel SEX. There are a lot of sexy songs out there, but none that every struck me so hard that I wanted it hard against the wall. Until a week ago. While watching So You Think You Can Dance I saw an exciting Jazz routine by Sonya. And while I didn't pay much attention to the music at first it followed me. It stood at the edge of my mind singing to itself until I couldn't take it anymore and found a copy of it. So.

• The Garden by Mirah - Sex. I feel it throughout my body. The beat drums up all the vital parts of me, while her voice touches all the sensitive spots. It's not even that outstanding of a song, lyrically, but damn. Her voice plus the beat and I'm in a puddle on the floor.
  

Call for cake

Lava cake, oh lava cake
Your chocolatyness cannot be faked
You fill my mouth with sweet bliss
If you were a man I would give you a kiss

..instead I will settle for eating you.
Nomnomnom

No phone is off limits to the Phone Bandit!

Yesterday all staff (managers of any form) were called down to the training room for our weekly staff meeting. Our store manager was caught up on the phone so we all goofed off a bit. Hangman, dirty stories, you know, fun stuff. A friend of mine stood up and left to deal with a customer issue about 15 minutes in, leaving her phone behind. She forgot that one should never leave a phone unprotected around the Phone Bandit! I reprogrammed it while she was gone. It just occurred to me that I never got around to fixing it... Oh well. She'll get used to her new ringtones and her greeting shouting out Hey Bitches!

There is wet laundry spread out on a sheet on my living room floor. I swear here and now that I will not enter another laundromat for at least six months. Two of the three dryers I used didn't dry a daggone thing after 30 minutes. It cost twice as much as the little room in my apartment building and the dryers functioned at 50%. With all my quarters gone I guess I was half-hoping it would dry by itself on the floor. Logic gets a little misty around 1am. Haven't touched it since. Should probably fix that. Or I could fall back on hoping that they will fold themselves while I sleep...

Awash in a sea of clutter and half finished projects

It seems lately that anytime I log in to my messenger I am using the 'busy- cleaning' status. It's not that I am always cleaning, just I do so little at one time that there is always more to do. Maybe. If I actually had a clue I would be living in a clutter free-glass shining-nothing on the floor but carpet and furniture apartment. Which...I am not. I used to leave the kitchen and the bathroom for Mike when he lived here. Sort of to make him feel better about not paying bills or rent. He could do the cleaning of the worst areas. Problem there was that 1) he did stereotypical guy cleaning ( most visible of surfaces) and 2) he was just as busy as I was with school so dishes were only done every few days, bathroom once a month, that sort of thing. So post-breakup it really shouldn't be that hard for me to take over those parts and get the apartment into shape, right? Pfft. I come home, I collapse into bed (or recliner or computer chair) and I veg until it's time for bed. Even now I am looking around me as I type thinking "what would be the best way to attack this situation?" Note: I am looking around thinking it, not getting up and doing it. It's sad.
There are so many projects half started because I need to devote full attention to them and lately I just don't have the attention span. I haven't worked on the graphic novel for six months! Haven't even taken the note pad into the bedroom in case I come up with ideas while laying in bed. Haven't worked on character sketches or layouts. A few months back I was working on a sketch for a project in the Be Creative Damnit thread on The Board(http://http://neilgaimanboard.com/eve/forums/a/tpc/f/588609765/m/77110563441) and after several false starts I told myself I had one solid take from beginning to end, no retakes, just whatever came out came out. I drew, I inked, it sucked. It was the worst sketch I have done since I was in highschool! I don't have a natural talent for free style drawing, or even a class taught ability. I have taught myself everything I know. And it looks like I have forgotten it all! I wish I could draw out a schedule for my free time. Clean from A to B, restroom B to B.5, Draw from B.5 to C, etc. Every day like that and I could really get back on track. Too bad I'm still so sick and have little control over what I get to do...
Sigh. Alright. I am getting up. I am blowing my nose. (Yes, you need to know that.) And then I am going to start cleaning. Maybe.

So why is it broken?

For anyone who doesn't know, or doesn't care but is going to find out anyway, echolocation is the way many bats find their way around. Mine seems to be broken, since I am wandering through life all but completely lost.
Whether or not this will be a blog of humor, depravity, intelligence, or mushitude I do not know. I figure I will place my hands on the keyboard and whatever comes out will surprise us all.

Hate to start things off with a whimper, but today was a trying day. Two weeks ago my long term boyfriend/fiance/boyfriendagain slipped his keys underneath my door. I had more or less given him an ultimatum. I advised him that I wanted him in my life, but I may want to adopt someday and if he was not with the adoption idea he might want to consider another partner. He loved me too but was not keen on the idea of tiny little people running around being shaped by our hands. So the keys went under my door. Effort on both sides kept us conversing through Yahoo Messenger and a week later he spent the night. Now now, no hanky panky. But he slept over, and the next morning he ran an errand for me that resulted in my keys being back in his hands. They are still there. He has since spent the night almost a half dozen times. But nothing has changed. We are not together, we acknowledge that he won't be changing his mind nor should he. It is both comforting and unsettling being around him. We went to book stores today, and out to dinner. I find myself torn. Do I want to continue this...whatever it is so that I can have him hold me every couple nights, or do I want to tell him to give me the keys back and sleep alone? I find myself sighing a lot lately.