Okay, so, I have two things that I can finally explain. But, after I talk about the precious hours of my life I wasted going to the stupid "Women's Career Fair" at Navy Pier.

First off, the people who organized this thing had no fucking clue what they were doing. I was standing in one line, watching as women who had just arrived jump ahead of me because the minimum wage idiots had no clue how to manage a line.

Then, I got to wait for almost three hours to actually get in the fucking place. That was fun. Watching all the women walk in, most of whom had no clue about what "professional attire" really meant.

*dress shirt with "nice" jeans, black belt and solid color shoes* does NOT qualify as business attire, you morons!

One butch was bold enough to show up in all black. Oh yeah, the cheap ass get-up she had was high quality. To boot, she had a huge hickey on the left side of her neck.

I was so overwhelmed by the desire to pull a "femme", walking over to her with my concealer and covering that hideous thing up, lecturing her on how trashy it was for her to do nothing about it.

Then the butch side of me kicked in and said, "Fuck it. If she wants to show up all trashy with a big ol hickey on her neck, then let her. Just watch as everybody else points and laughs." Which is exactly what several people did.

Out of fifty employers that were scheduled to be there, thirty showed up, and, I ended up talking to a whopping 3. One of whom was a retailer. The exact same fucking job I'm trying to get out of. Great.

I wasted 8 hours of my life. That includes travel time and calling people to get references. Not including the fact that I spent a total of four hours going around trying to find pants, shoes and paper for my resumes and references.


Anyway, big fucking waste after all was said and done.

Okay, now onto my explanations.

"Hope" versus "Reality" was the heart of my session with my therapist Monday.

I'm at the point of acknowledging the fact that I am now reminiscing about the good stuff in my previous relationship. If that seems long, it's because I've been reminiscing, and not acknowledging it.

The reminiscing has created a new "hope". A hope that maybe, just maybe, we might be able to get back together again, and, maybe, just maybe, we can make it work this time.

Then "reality" sets in and I begin to realize that if she saw nothing wrong with how she was acting or behaving, then what on God's green earth would motivate her to change what was wrong?

For as much as I'd like to hope, her motivation sure as hell wouldn't be me. She barely fucking changed for me, and she called me her "forever face". Time to bitch slap myself silly.

Okay, I'll stop if my nose starts bleeding.

After all was said and done, I agreed to the fact that I want to see her one last time before I move on, for the sake of closure. Or sex. Or both, I don't care.


Okay, now, on to the "fag phase" statement.

About ten years ago, when I first "came out", I found that I was "attaching" myself to mostly gay men. Meaning that all my friends were gay men, and, that the only lesbian in my life would be the woman that I was either dating or just having sex with (there is a difference). I would only listen to dance music, to the point of only wanting to hear the dance remixes of whatever hot new tracks were on the radio. I became an avid fan of Madonna, collecting all the dance versions of whatever tracks were released from Erotica, then Bedtime Stories. I still bought both Ray of Light and Music, but, my motive was completely fag-free by then.

I would only go to gay bars when they had "women's" nights. Why? Because my fag friends would get me in for free, try to get me jobs at those bars, and, I usually had at least half of my nightly alcohol that was consumed either bought for me, or it was free. Don't forget, I had to keep up on my dance music. Had to know what was hot and what just became passe.

After a few years, and, screwing up a few relationships with my "fag" fixation, I stopped. I stopped going to the gay bars, and, started to going out to the lesbo bars, and, haven't really been back to the gay bars ever since. The last time I stepped inside of a gay bar was about seven years ago.

It's not that I'm a fag hater (some of the more hardcore "dykes" are true fag haters, then again, some of the more hardcore "fags" can't stand the sight of a dyke either), it's just that the fag scene isn't mine anymore.

I rather enjoy myself being in a place with other women, a place that I know that I am accepted for who I am, not for what I am not. I will always be judged and placed into some "category" that some insecure asshole created just to give themselves some pathetic vision of power and control.

Even now I find myself searching for a label, some quick way to describe myself, some tag to scream out to the world so that they know what to expect when they step up to me. Something to scribble on a shirt that I can wear so that there are no surprises.

I ultimately realize that I will never be able to give myself any kind of label, simply because I exercise my right as a human to experience new things, new ways of thought, to understand other lifestyles and different points of view. In some way I incorporate these new sources of input into my own life. Things I do now, the way I dress and behave were things that ten, even five years ago I would have foreign and possibly even malignant, degrading to the image of "self" I had then.

Do I say that I was willingly blind and ignorant, embracing and wanton of my ignorance? No. I was just extremely inexperienced, naive to the many different ways, thoughts and paths life offers us all. I am grateful for the fact that I have had the experiences that I have had, both good and bad, because they all have helped me define myself to me, the most important person.

At the age of 31, I know that I still have many more experiences to come. Where and when creates the mystery and thrill that is life.

I've been asked where I see myself in 5, 10, 20 years from now. I don't. I can't. Every person, interaction and experience is what guides me. I don't stop to smell the roses every day, but, I don't ignore the fact that they are there.

Do I let the fact that someone who pisses me off today is the same person that I am pissed off at tomorrow? No. Such trivialities are not worth the energy that anger saps. I've been there, folks. It's not pretty.

I guess that what I am trying to say is that I don't let the everyday things guide me, only the ones that matter. The ones that do matter are of course my choice.

But, that's a whole other discussion.

I know it's been some time since I've written, but, my batteries have been on "recharge".

I did go out on Saturday nite, which was awesome. Me and D had dinner at Olive Garden (I love that place!), then, we were off to the ladies' bar for a night of bad pool and great dancing.

I'm still up prepping for the "Women's Career Fair" at Navy Pier tomorrow. The woman running it looks like she's the head of a cult or something. Scary.

Enjoying my vacation and my introspection.

The battle of "Hope" versus "Reality" sucks. "Reality" is winning.

And I'm still smoking.

No Friday Five today.

A lot of shit has gone down at work. Many "leadership" positions were eliminated. I lost both of my seniors in title only. They still keep their pay, but, to be fair, I must now consider all three of my full-timers as "leaders" when I am not in the building.

As a result of all this shit, I've started smoking again. At least three squares a day. Ick.

The good thing is that my vacation starts at 10:01 am tomorrow morning. After the store meeting explaining what is going on.

This sucks.

I've been debating as to whether I should just delete my old blog. It just sits there, in cyberspace, taking up space, a relic. A tribute to love that no longer exists.

Career Builder is sponsoring a Women's Career Fair on the 30th. I will be going. I just need to buy a "business" outfit. Wearing blue and khaki for over 10 years tends to limit the amount of true business attire that your wardrobe contains.

My therapist said something to me that kinda caught me off guard.

"You are better than what you are right now. You have the potential to do many great things."

It caught me off guard because it was her saying it. My therapist. Not the instructors at the college I got my associates from, not my boss, not even my family. My therapist. It's so sad that words of such encouragement should have to come from a licensed professional.

It's time for a change. Easier said than done.

I will be explaining my "fag phase" later.

Look! It's the 9/11 buck getting passed around!

Yeah! Our government at work!

WOOHOO!!!!

1) I am a huge fan of SpongeBob Squarepants. I'm sure that people have already lost faith in me as it is. "Fry Cook Games" is the gayest episode yet. SpongeBob and Patrick, muscle bound in their underwear, holding hands as they walk out of the stadium. Gay.

2) I want to beat the living shit out of my staff right now. They can't stay in the department, and it's resulted in threats of write-ups or termination. There was an entire warehouse shipment that hadn't been touched.

3) I haven't heard anything from my friend D, which probably means that her ex's visit is going spectacularly. If it is I am happy for her.

4) Last night, I dug through my CD collection, and, rediscovered artists that I love. One of those artists is Judgment of Paris. I also rediscovered a group that I used to listen to when I was going through my "Fag Phase" (to be explained later). That would be Army of Lovers.

5) Last night was one of the first nights that I was comfortable being alone. I would wake up on my days off, busy wondering what everybody else was doing, and, in wondering, the day would just slip past, with nothing accomplished. That didn't happen last night, or yesterday. I got out and enjoyed the 60+ degree day.

Last night was the first night in which I didn't just "feel" single, I thought "single". My mind wandered off into territory that I hadn't been in, even since the breakup with "Michigan" ex. I thought about getting out there, mingling, flirting, having fun, all that stuff.

I've tried wandering into that territory before, but, it made me very uncomfortable. Now it doesn't. Now it feels right.

Now I'm done.

Okay, I finally have a blogroll. I already put several links for people who I know wouldn't mind (thanks W & those sexy boys at QW), and, will be sending the standard "May I please?" emails over the next several days. Or asking nicely in the comments section. Whatever is easier.

I got the pics from bowling night, and, I want to post several here, I just don't know how.

Help anybody? Please.

If you really want a good laugh, check this site out. It's hysterical.

Still digesting the whole Delia Day thing. I've been thinking about it over the past several days, and, for some reason, the topic has done a good job of keeping me up at night.

What's been keeping me up is the fact that this situation is about intentional pain, suffering, torture, humiliation, etc. Not only the intention of the person being in the role of giver, but, someone willingly being in the position of receiver.

It brought back a lot of memories of my childhood, memories of bloody noses, bruises, punches and kicks. Beatings with belts, extension cords, brooms and fists. Watching my dad beat the shit out of my mom, and, being powerless to do anything about it. Hearing my dad threaten to "kick my ass" if I ever strayed out of line, while letting my brothers stay out until all hours of the day and night, coming home drunk or stoned, either joining a gang or getting out of one.

It's fucking with my head, giving life to memories and monsters that I thought that were dead long ago. It's not helping that my b-day is on Sunday, and, once again, I am single. I am single, and, that once again, I broke off another relationship with someone who I grew to love. It barely lasted a year. What is it? A curse. Am I lying to myself when I say that I now have new eyes to see the world with, and, I saw that she wasn't good enough anymore? Did I intentionally sabotage this relationship, or did she?

I always get reflective around my birthday. It's become habit. Enough already.

Anyway, got some great news on the work front. Turns out that the new sales manager wants everybody's availability to fit certain "models" created by corporate. A bunch of nasty "change your availability or you'll get canned" letters went out to a bunch of people. One of those people was Stalker Girl.

After fighting with the ditzy ass ops manager and showing her the availability guidelines for my staff, which are different than the rest of the store, I found out that Stalker Girl put in her notice. Her last day was yesterday. WOOHOO!!!!!!!

She's off to Europe for two weeks, and, then it's off to find a new job! WOOHOO!!!

She had the fucking nerve to call me last night. I hung up on her twice, and, apparently, she didn't get the message, because she called back a third time and left a voicemail. Dumb Ass!!!!!!

Right now, I feel strangely aloof. It doesn't help that I only got three hours of sleep either. I'm still debating whether I want to go to the "store" bowling get-together on Sunday or not. I have no money, so, I guess that my answer is no. I already have people asking me if I was going. And they aren't even from my department. Sick.

I have to get a blogroll going. I keep watch on way too many good blogs to not get the word out. Check this one out. You actually get to see people's stupidity. Not like blogheckler's. You only get to see her stupidity.

It's the Friday Five

If you...

1. ...owned a restaurant, what kind of food would you serve?

Good food, duh. Burgers, fries, hot dogs, that kind of food. I would put it in a great place, and, stay open til 3 or 4am.

2. ...owned a small store, what kind of merchandise would you sell?

Sex store, of course. I'm a big perv. But, of course, it would be staffed by educated and experienced people.

3. ...wrote a book, what genre would it be? Why it isn't wrong to teach masturbation in high school sex ed classes.

4. ...ran a school, what would you teach? Decency, respect, tolerance, and, of course, that masturbation is okay. And maybe a few math classes.

5. ...recorded an album, what kind of music would be on it? Everything. I listen to all kinds of music, except Classical and Country (aka Boring and Crap). I would put a couple of dance tracks, a couple of acoustic tracks, a couple of rock tracks, a couple of R&B tracks, a couple of Rap tracks. They would all be covers though, I forgot how to write music.

I'm still disgesting, but, there is always a concern within the BDSM community.

What would happen if a master/top went too far, breaking the rules?

There is also the concern that individuals who are in a BDSM relationship may not be mentally stable, or, overcompensating for a deficiency in their public persona.

Still, it makes you think, what is the ultimate difference between mental and physical control and manipulation? Aren't physical limits merely an interpretation of limits set by the mind?

What happens when someone who is not "stable" is put into such a situation? Further more, what happens when the master goes beyond the consensual limit? How will such a person react? What if there is no community to fall back on, to seek out for protection?

Such a discussion will bring about both stereotypical and unconventional views. But for those who do not understand, it's always good to listen to both sides.

The story of Delia Day (a.k.a. Susan Anton)

Went out with D last night. We had dinner at the Macaroni Grill. It's a strange place to have dinner, really. You either find something that you hate with every essence of your living being, or, you find something that's pretty kick-ass. I found the kick-ass dish. The Pasta Milano. Spicy, but, totally delish.

We then went to Temps for the night. As D and I pull into the parking lot, we notice somebody's car. Seems like the ex of the current ex likes to hang out at said bar almost every Saturday night.

We go in, and, say our hellos to people. We'll refer to the ex of the ex as LD. As in leather dyke. So, LD has some friends with her, and, she puts up her usual "hey, I'm important, do as I say" shit routine. Some of the less mature tops tend to be like that. They tend to not realize that their dominance ends with interactions with people that aren't into that lifestyle.

Anywho, D and I decide to hang out at the other end of the bar, playing pool. D and I are pretty funny when we play. We scratch at least two or three times each game, and, if we feel like it, we'll "guide" the balls into a pocket. Never the 8 ball, never.

After a bit, LD comes up and starts to harass D, playfully talking into D's ear, saying "I'm single again".

After LD leaves, I look at D and roll my eyes. Please dumbass, D and I both agree you had your chance. It's gone toots, tough shits for you. Turns out D is working on getting back with her ex, the one I'm not so fond of.

Anyway, I decide to leave because I had to be at work at 6am this morning, so, we leave. No biggie, right. Wrong. Turns out LD wants another round of hugs. Blech. Whatever.

When LD first saw me, she said that she liked me with glasses better.

Because your opinion matters so fucking much. (Insert middle finger here)

So, we leave, and, I get home safe and sound. I only had three triple blacks. I was a good girl.

This morning was a whole other story. Not only did I not get in till 6:30, but, the brand spanking new sales manager opened the store an hour early. Fuck you asshole!

Turns out ABT was having some kind of anniversary sale, and, he decided that we should open up early. Oh, yeah, like people really fucking knew we were open, please. Dipshitz.

It was all good anyway. When I left, we were two grand ahead of pace. Sweet.

Before I left today, I bought a couple of DVDs. I took advantage of the 2 for $15 sale we have going, and, I bought myself an exercise DVD. Pilates for Dummies. If they had Pilates for Uncoordinated Jackasses, I would have bought that instead. I think that after all this weight coming off, it was time for me to work on my problem area, you know, the one that most women have. That lovely area between the boobies and the beaver. Ugh.

Fun stuff.

It's another Friday Five!

1. What was the last song you heard?

Pet Shop Boys "For Your Own Good" while I was at the White Castle drive-thru this morning around 2.

2. What were the last two movies you saw?

Twisted and LOTR Return of the King

3. What were the last three things you purchased?

Car insurance, White Castle and three pops at work

4. What four things do you need to do this weekend?

Laundry, get laid, go out with my friend D and work.
Guess which one isn't going to happen?

5. Who are the last five people you talked to?

In reverse order, the guy at the White Castle drive through, my boss (as I was leaving work), my part timer M (who can't close right for shit), the cute Jewish part timer in the PC/HO department, then her ugly ass male coworker.

While I was talking to my boss last night about the new stalker girl issue, I had to pick up his jaw off the floor several times. His comment about the b-day gift was "how predatory of her", rolling his eyes and wincing soon after.

Even he agreed that I need to reinforce the boundaries I had originally set up with her. If she doesn't get it after that, then he'll get the GM and district HR involved. And I'll get to look like queen bitch. Oh yeah.

Catch you on the flip side!

Oh, and, just to keep you all informed, I found out from Stalker Girl on Monday, as I was leaving work, that she bought my birthday present before Valentine's Day, and, was asking if I still wanted it.

BEFORE VALENTINE'S DAY!!!

Even my therapist is going "Houston, we have a problem."

At this point, I'm telling my boss that she won't fucking leave me alone, and, it's gonna get to the point of documentation. As in,

"Hey, since you didn't understand the words that came out of my mouth during our discussion, Stalker Girl, let's have you sign this piece of paper that says that you agree to leave this woman alone. Yes, it's going in your file."

Even my therapist is recommending legal action.

Does anybody know of a good target practice range?

Good to see that the boys finally have their thing going, I hope. Always fun to check out a web page that says

error!

Anywho, it's another day off, and, I have been very unproductive. Yeah for me.

I think that I will be going to biweekly visits to the therapist now. I feel a lull in my life that I am slowly growing accustomed to. Accustomed, not acclimated. There's a difference. Dig for it folks.

Behind the billow of lull I am beginning to feel some spark of renewal. I have grown aware of it recently, as in the past week. I know it's there, the spark that comes from the lack of excitement in my life.

I'm not ready for where it wants to go, but then again, I would like to see where it leads. It would be fun, being dragged along by my hormones, my mind and heart screaming at me to do the opposite. I haven't had that feeling in a while. Most people would run from it, but, I kinda like it.

Okay, so, after my session today, I realize that I've been lying to myself, amongst other people. Not good to lie to yourself. Really not good.

I've realized that I don't just miss the routine. I miss her. I miss both. I miss waking up on Saturday mornings, and, seeing her in bed with me, feeling her breath on my face, her arms slowly moving around me. I miss that first kiss, seeing her smile, listening to her tell me how happy she was to be there.

It's happened for over a year. Yeah, I'm gonna need some time to get over it, and, over her.

I'm not angry. Disappointed, but, not angry.

Anger eats away and festers in your soul. The stench works its way into your aura, distorting it, damning you to always be angry on the outside.

I've been there, wallowing in the filth, stewing in the dark juices. It's a place and a state of being that I do not wish for anyone, especially myself.

Yeah, we also agreed I've been drinking a little too much lately. I need to sober up, so, no going out for me until my vacation. Besides, my friend D can't join me for my b-day. Her ex (who I am oh so fond of....NOT) is coming to town the weekend of my b-day.

The previous ex is supposed to be in town this weekend. Haven't heard anything lately. Then again, she was always better at breaking her word than keeping it. Hence, the application of not just a grain of salt, but, a whole fucking pound of it.

The CD getting heavy rotation on my player is Cee-Lo Green.....is the soul machine.

My birthday is on the 21st.

My birthday is on a Sunday.

A FUCKING Sunday.

Not only am I totally uninspired, I get to be a lame-ass on my birthday too.

Whoopie for me.

Ugh.

I've been uninspired as of late, no real events to discuss, other than the drinking fiasco Sunday night. Let me finish.

I somehow managed to drag myself to work Monday morning, and, it turns out that stalker-girl, while she was being driven home, somehow opened up the car door, and, flung her arms out the door. Turns out her nails were scraping along the pavement, then her knuckles. Ouch.

My senior didn't even realize it until his brother (driving SG's car) pulled along side them and flagged him down. I was wondering why I saw their headlights getting smaller in my rear view mirror.

They caught up with me, then sped ahead to get her home. Then the rest happened.

I just want to say for the record, I am not an alcoholic. It just looks that way right now. Unfortunately, retail has a nasty habit of causing heavy drinking.

Nothing exciting has been happening. It's like I fell off the face of the earth or something. Amazing how when you're with someone you are the most important person in the world. They always call you with whatever news they have.

Then, when you're single, you're not really important to anyone. Except maybe your parents, which doesn't help in my case.

I don't miss my ex. I miss the routine. I'm still getting used to waking up to an empty bed, not having any plans for the day, all that. It happened for over a year. I know it will take some time, but, I'd like to get it over with.

I will be even more so happy when I get out of here.

Sorry folks, link whore stayed out too late with friends, so, she'll be back this Saturday.

As for me, instead of continuing the yearly tradition of sitting in front of the TV, stuffing myself while watching Oscars Sunday night, I went to a get-together with my employees.

Oh, THAT was a very interesting night indeed.

I set myself up for failure when I started bragging about how good of a bowler I am. After just 7 sets and dropping the ball behind me twice, I gave up.

A lot of booze flowed in that party. My one senior kept buying pitchers of MGD, although it had little affect on anybody, it was watered down. Ick.

Stalker-girl made both one hell of an entrance AND exit. I'll explain later.

Everything was going good, half the guys on my staff were awesome at bowling, always one upping each other after each frame. We were all having a good time, just bullshitting and stuff. As the booze continued to flow, the night got a lot more interesting.

I ended up having 3 Bacardi Razs, 3 plastic cups of beer, and, two shots of zambuka ( hey, it was either that or jager. I don't drink jager). After all that, I was still able to drive, which surprised the shit out of me. Apparently, stalker-girl felt some obligation to keep up. Now, mind you, she's never, ever gone out drinking before. Never.

So, after three beers and two shots, she was totally shit-faced. She was hanging on me at the bar and shit. I got sick from it. I wanted her to leave me alone. I had to get up and walk away from her I felt so sick.

Well, as the troops were heading home for the day, it happened. There were a few people who couldn't drive themselves home. One of my seniors and stalker-girl.

Senior guy was able to have someone else drive him home, someone who only lived a few blocks from him. Stalker-girl was a whole other story.

We had to go back into the bowling alley to figure out how to get to where she lives. Once that happened, my other senior put stalker-girl in his car, his brother drove her car, and, they followed me.

BIG MISTAKE. I went the wrong way up Waukegan Road, and, all of a sudden, we were in Glenview. Whoopsie, wrong suburb.

We turned around, and, worked our way back to the lake, and, stalker-girl's house. I ended up losing them somewhere back in Skokie, and, caught up with them at her house.

I pulled up, and, saw that my senior was trying to get her up the stairs to her apartment. That in itself was fun, considering that she couldn't even stand. Although she was faring better after she puked on the front stairs.

So, my senior and I get her to her apartment, and, as he was putting the key in the lock, stalker-girl leans over and pounds on the door. Great. It wakes up the dog, who wakes up the neighbors, and, eventually her roommate, who is scared shitless when she opens the door to let stalker-girl in. Seeing a big Puerto Rican guy carrying your 5'3" very petite roommate would probably scare you too.

Which is why I ducked out from behind him and let her roommie know that we were bringing her home. I've met roommie before, so, she calmed down after she saw me.

So, yeah, instead of getting home at 1:30am Monday morning, I got home at around 3. Good thing the opening manager showed up at the alley. He said I had to be at the store by 9:30am. I walked in at 9am.

And found out about many more interesting things that happened while my senior drove stalker-girl home. I'll tell ya later.