Tuesday, August 30, 2005

Back to the birds

The big fears/questions seem to have been answered/alleviated. He likes me. I like him. He doesn't care that my house is messy.

His bird, a much bigger bird than mine, was very interested in a frisbee game that was going on at the park a few weeks ago and I was thinking it would be cool to teach a bird to play frisbee. I have some teensy mini-frisbees that I got for the little white dog and used to teach her to flip. She has since worked up to the pup-sized version but I meant to send CPG home with this disc for his bird.

I think my bird might get to keep that one and I'll order some new ones for CPG's bird 'cause I mean, how freakin' cute is that???

Last night, CPG and I were talking about my bird and moving toward flying her outside. I emailed BTD about her overnighter and he did not have any particularly useful insights. He's kinda gone off the deep end with his persecution complex and is all on about the effect of colors on both human and avian brains. I pointed out that we can't really know what color the bird is seeing anyway. They see a whole end of the spectrum which is invisible to us.

CPG is getting ready to let bird number 2 fly outside. I would love to be there for his first flight but I think he's going to be ready before I make it to the big city. Our plan with my bird is to do her first outdoor flight in a big field. Spend the next couple of weeks really hitting the recall training then take her out in her carrier to wherever I am going to fly her several times so she can get accustomed to the sights and sounds then do very short recalls. I need someone to go with me to hold her for a minute so I can walk 5-10 feet away and call her to me. We also think I'm better off starting this before she moults out the flight feathers so she can't fly quite as far or quite as high.

There are two nearby frisbee dog clubs both of them run by couples. Power couples even. I have this little fantasy of the two of us opening a bird kennel with the focus on flighted birds. Then we could be a power couple, dammit ;-)

Monday, August 29, 2005

I don't know what to say

He's not perfect. Which is, in and of itself kind of perfect. I took him to the airport this morning. We have stuff to work out. Possibly involving some Anthony advice. But, driving home I felt terribly hopeful that we would be able to work everything out. Even the long distance thing. How, I don't know but oh I like being with him. I don't ever remember wanting to be around someone so much. Talk to them. Touch them. Just be in their presence.

This two different cities not within reasonable driving distance sucks a lot. We're looking at not getting to see one another again until the end of September. But, I do have a lot of my own stuff to do between now and then. And now I really, really want to hire an IC so I have someone to pinch hit on daily walks for visits to the city and to take care of my own menagerie thus preventing me from having to deal with DTD - always a good thing. And the house is neat enough to relaunch the DB. I'm doing site for a local realtor and we're doing a site for CPG's bird.

I've never liked sleeping in the same bed with anyone. Ever. Not my thing. I took a nap this afternoon and I so missed having his arm around me. My feet were cold and I couldn't put them against his leg to warm them up. I'm already forgetting how he moves. What he really looks like. How it feels when he rubs my back. Forty-two hours just was not enough. I want more.

Saturday, August 27, 2005


Well, he's here. I was late picking him up from the airport...of course. He's awesome guys. He's totally who he was on the phone. He's smart, funny, sweet, kind, fun and fucking hot. Plus the fucking is pretty hot too which isn't such a bad thing.

The house is still pretty gnarly but oh what a way I've come with it:

The limes are for the margaritas we're going to make tomorrow plus they're a pretty centerpiece and a nice natural room freshner. That's the brown dog lying devotedly at CPG's feet under the table. Remember, she doesn't like anyone!

Check out the changes in the living room!

And, the most important room of the house. The stray dog models how comfy the bed is. And it is. Comfy. Clean. And no dogs allowed tonight baby!

Friday, August 26, 2005

Here we go again

He was willing to spend $400 on a new plane ticket to come down tomorrow. How cool is that? I protested and he was still willing to do it. Seriously cool. I could love him for that alone. Plus helping me get the bird back. Plus his goofy double entendres. Plus he's fucking hot. But, I had already found a ticket for $200 coming into a nearby city and I told him about it. So, we're back on and I'm going to pick him 3:30 tomorrow. That gives me a whole extra 7 hours to panic and clean tomorrow.

All for naught

He's not coming. The airline wouldn't accept his id. He's on his way home to try to find his birth certificate and see if he can get another ticket for tomorrow. Problem being, now I don't know if I can relax and give up the cleaning for tonight or if I need to hit it harder in case he's coming in tomorrow. Sigh.

I can't do this.

This is not fun. This is not exciting. I'm stressed. I'm unhappy. The house is not at all clean. He will be repulsed and hate all the drama associated with this. I'm blowing my one shot at this. Nobody loves me. Everybody hates me. I think I'll go eat worms.


This time tomorrow he will be here. The first meeting will already be over. Done. We've already had our first big fight and our first big emotional experience (losing and finding Solo) but we still haven't met. Yet.

The plumbers are here and the tub is unclogged! Woohoo! That is such a good thing that I really don't care that they're being mildly snarky about the state of my house and all the hair in the clog.

A clog free tub is a very good thing!

Progress being made.

  • Plumber - plumber #3 scheduled to arrive at noon.

Okay, it isn't done but definitely progress made, no?
  • Switch crates and bed from spare bedroom

Okay, all I did was pile everything up in the corner of the spare bedroom. It's still better than nothing!

It's a couch. It's a bed. Okay, it's a bed that I dragged into the living room to replace the couch I threw out. I'm not industrious enough to make all my furniture out of packing material

Still much left to do. Laundry, bedroom, sweeping, moppping, clearing up the bits and pieces left over from tossing everything in the spare bedroom. That's good though because I'm so nervous now I feel ill. This is it. He'll be here at midnight. Witching hour. Go time.

Please, please, please, please let him be the wonderful, sweet, funny, kind, smart guy I've been talking to for three weeks. Please? And, please let him still like me after he meets me and sees my filthy house.

What if I can't do this?

Thursday, August 25, 2005

All's well that ends well!

Long story short: the bird escaped yesterday evening. I honest to doG thought that was it and I'd lost the bird. CPG stayed up pretty much all night with me because I couldn't sleep thinking about her out there all alone and frightened. This morning plumber #2 arrived. We're outside, I hear the bird calling. It is a very distinctive sound and totally unlike any made by local wild birds. Plumber #2 tells me that there is no way he can unclog the drain in the tub and that all the pipes have to be replaced. I spot the bird in the tree in the backyard and pull Bubba around to have something to stand under where she is. I get her to come down to where she can step up on my hand and pop her in her carrier which is on Bubba's roof so I can climb down. She flies off before I can close the door on the carrier and I don't hear or see her again before I have to leave to walk dogs.

Can we say DISPAIR?

Last night CPG found a .wav of a bird like mine making a contact call and figured out a way for me to put it on my cell as a ring tone. Earlier I had been able to get her to call back to me when I played it. I get home from walking dogs and nada.

Dad calls and gives me Plumber #3's number. Plumber #3 tells me they can be here tomorrow after 12:00 and they think they can manage to unstop the drain and then worry about the condition of the pipes next week. YAY!

At 6:00 a.m. while I was out looking for the bird I distributed 50 full color fliers (handy that I had to buy that new printer last weekend, eh?) to every house on my block. Get off the phone with plumber #3 and the phone rings:

Me: Thank you for calling the best ps on the planet.
California Dude: Did you lose a bird?
Me: Yes!
CD: I just saw it, I'm at a house behind yours but I'm from California, I don't actually live here (heaven, forfend!) but I'm selling this house so I can go back to California and I heard this bird that sounds like the birds in that movie. And then I saw it and it looked...well, it looked like a parrot, man!
Me: That's the bird!
CD: She has a really loud voice, man!
Me: That's the bird, I'm on my way with a bowl of food to see if she'll come to me!

So, I arrive and the bird has now flown back over toward my house according to California Dude, his chic and some old lady who yelled at me for putting a flier in her mailbox (well, then you need to get one of those things that is under the box so people can leave fliers, biatch! - CD says, "if it's about the safety of your pet I can't imagine that anyone would care to which the old lady responds, shaking the flier at us before throwing it in her herbie, "it is a federal offense!") I explain that the bird is a variety of the same type of bird as CD is thinking of and bid them a happy life on the Left Coast...say hi to Brian and Scooterdeb while you're there!

I drive home and play the recorded contact call ring tone and the bird answers. I pinpoint the tree she is in and go in the neighbor two houses down's yard and actually see her about fifty feet up in a tree. I've got a big bowl of seed/millet/peanuts/almonds/grapes/apples and I hold it up and ask if she wants some dinner. She squeaks. I call her name and tell her she is a good bird and to come here please and generally sweet talk to her. Then I remember, this is a trained bird! I've done hundreds of recalls with her and so I hold my hand up and say, "bird, come!" And she drops out of the tree! She lands on a phone line about 25 feet down and sits there a minute. I call again, "bird, come." She waddles back and forth. I get tough and pretend like I'm going to walk away. She flies straight to my hand!

And, on my hand she stays while I walk back to my house whereupon I deposit her on her playgym with the ginormous bowl of goodies and periodically pick her up to cuddle her and tell her how scared I was that she was lost and that this morning while she was in the tree in the backyard I saw a hawk fly over it and she needs to learn about things like that before she ever flies outside again or, better yet she needs to never run fly away from home again!

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Too. Much. To. Do.

There is just no way I can get everything that needs to be done, done. It is just not physically possible. I have 2.5 days.

  1. Plumber - where the fuck is the goddamned fucking plumber?!? - Update, 2nd day in a row the plumber was a fucking no show. Called a different plumber who should be here tomorrow morning.
  2. Kitchen table.
  3. Grocery Store
  4. Switch crates and bed from spare bedroom - next on the agenda!
  5. Trash
  1. Laundry
  2. Pick up bedroom
  3. Sweep/Mop/Decobweb
  1. Enchiladas
  2. Cookies
  3. Bubba
  4. Try to make things seem cozy (as opposed to bleak which would be the word du jour.)

When you put it all down on paper it doesn't seem that bad but...well, you've never seen the kitchen table but I haven't seen it myself for quite some time!

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

It is a good morning.

The bathroom is as clean as it is going to get. The plumber should be here in the next hour or so. The kitchen and hall are de-cobwebbed. The ashtray and cigarettes are outside.

Things are back on track and I've moved into the driver's seat, baby.

Things were starting to feel very much like my previous two experiences with meeting a guy online. The big difference this time is that I'm not stuck in my own head all the time. I'm an adult and I have a support system. I spoke with several people about the CPG situation yesterday.

CPG and I talked.

Everyone's conclusion seems to be that we have a few communication problems and I need to know that I don't have to feel obligated to do anything I don't want to do.

The only promise now is that he's got a shot at getting into my bed. Just a shot.

I get to be the girl for once. Not in an Anthony/power of the vagina way but...I just do not have to feel obligated to do anything I don't want to do.

No more doormat impressions.

I'm not perfect by any stretch of the imagination but I'm pretty incredible if you just take into account the incredible people who choose to spend time with me.

Monday, August 22, 2005


Nevermind. I think it's okay now. Maybe. We'll see. Stay tuned!


This is going to be brief. I haven't even begun to sort through the emotions yet and I'm working on less than four hours of sleep.

The day before yesterday, CPG had some stuff of his own and was a bit off. Okay, people have off days. I feel like he probably could have finnessed whatever it was out of me if the situation were reversed but okay, whatever, I gave it my best shot. Yesterday morning afternoon, we're chatting in IM and not quite completely out of the blue but not exactly in keeping with the level of conversation, he asks, "why aren't you in therapy."

That's what prompted my question. His answers are 7ish, 4 and five. Putting me considerably out of the range of normal and himself on some higher plane or whatever. I start to get defensive. He starts to get adamant about therapy being necessary. And he's comparing me to past girlfriends. Even though his response whenever I say something like that is, "well I'm not X so why would I behave like X?" I say the same thing to him and he says, "because that's how you're behaving." Again, he gets to decide when this is a correct assessment and I don't.

So, I'm a little pissed at that point and I send him an email explaining how I feel. He responds with an email defending his position. I shoot off another one trying to get him to really understand:
Do you understand that what I hear when you say this is, "fix the problems that you have or else." That puts me in an extraordinarily defensive position. And, not only are you demanding that I fix
something, you're telling me that you will only accept your way of doing it.
I call him later that afternoon and he's out flying his bird. Says he'll call when he gets home. Several hours later - I've had this before with him but I'm putting that one down to general guy, sucks at basic communication thing - he calls and doesn't say anything about my last email. Fine. I am not going to be the one to bring it up.

Finally we get around to discussing it. Come to the conclusion that it was merely miscommunication. Okay. I'll accept that. We have a fairly stilted chat. I'm starting to get worried that we won't have anything to talk about when he visits because the only things we ever talk about are the bird list, my problems, the visit itself and sex. We have a little phone sex interlude and I can tell that he's not actually engaged despite the fact that I've told him how much that bothers me because of the whole DTD thing especially since he instigated it, not I. But, fine, whatever.

We hang up and go to sleep but I can't fall asleep and get up to check my email. He IMs me and we're back on a really nice happy plane. Until. He starts in on me for smoking. He's known that I smoke from the getgo. He can't tolerate it. Claims adult onset asthma. Okay, I won't smoke around you. Hates the taste of it as well. Okay, I'll brush my teeth or use one of those listerine pocket pack things after every cigarette. Okay, that'll work.

Last night he says it won't work. Brushing my teeth won't get rid of the taste. Why can't I chew the gum instead. WTF? We already discussed this. I know but now I care more. Hunh? Why do you care more about the smoking now? No, he cares more about the possibility of this working out between us.

It's now four in the morning, I'm all confused and freaking out. He calls. Says that he was lying when he said that not smoking around him and brushing my teeth would solve the problem. That he won't want to kiss me under those circumstances.

Okay. I'll tell you right now that no one is having sex without the holding and kissing part.

You have no idea how close I was to saying, "I think maybe you're the one who should skedaddle back to therapy since you clearly have a pattern of wanting women to change FOR you despite claims to the contrary. Your mother couldn't/wouldn't/whatever. I don't think I'm the one who can't have an adult relationship here."

If I'm going to blog it I might as well have said it 'cause he's going to read that and be all hurt. And I'm not sorry. I don't want the guy I was talking to last night coming into my house, upsetting my life and making me feel awful about myself.

I want the guy I was talking to initially who was kind and funny and so fucking sweet and who I thought could hold my hand while I ventured out into the real world to come visit. I wanted this to be the exception to the damn rule.

It's a nonfuckingrefundable ticket.

He asked if he should get the refundable one and I thought he wanted to know whether I was going to trip out and back out. Actually I have gotten calmer and more together steadily over the course of the last two weeks. He's gotten more difficult and less supportive and way, way more demanding. As soon as I get even mildly comfortable at whatever level we're at he bumps it up to a level I'm not going to be comfortable with. This is sooo shades of DTD.

And yes, I do need to quit smoking but that is not the point.

He was really on the twenty pounds I need to lose until I stopped being upset that he's cuter than I think I am. Once that no longer got any real reaction he dropped it. He starts in on the therapy thing until I bring that into the public eye with my poll - no one is ever going to isolate me to manipulate me again. Then he chooses to go after smoking. Even though we had already had that conversation and worked out a solution for the time being. And, if he lied about that and exagerated his feelings at that point in time...

He's claiming that he's taking the stance to "stack the deck in our favor." Okay, and what would you call the fact that I am willing to not smoke in my house or my car. To go outside and to brush my teeth after every cigarette? That's not me trying to make this work? You can't give just a little bit? He says, "I've always said the smoking was a problem." Yes, but you also always said that if I smoked outside and brushed my teeth that would solve the immediate problem.

I was being honest. I was honest about smoking. I'm honest about my problems and faults and whatnot. Honesty is the best policy. I'm willing to fight it out. I really can't lie.

Okay, this was so not brief.

And I still don't have any idea what to do about anything.

I've been walking around for a couple of weeks with this tiny, secret, someone really special cares about me feeling.

Now I just feel tired.


It's quater of five in the morning. I've been up all night. I'm sitting here lonely, miserable and unhappy (but not smoking) wondering if I will ever meet anyone who could actually love me for me. Anyone who won't always pull the rug out from under me just when I relax my guard. Safe, supportive and secure my goddamned ass!

Yes, I'm crying. Godfuckingdammittohellandback! I hate to cry. People suck.

I am lovable goddamit!

I've been waiting my entire fucking life for anyone at all to ever notice that.

Screw you if you think I'm going to spend the next four days cleaning the stupid, fucking house.

Fuck. I'll explain all of this at some point. Maybe.

Sunday, August 21, 2005

How fucked up am I?

If you answer the question, it only counts if you a) are completely and utterly honest and b) also offer an evaluation of yourself on the same scale.

One to ten. One being not at all fucked up. Ten being seriously, not really functional in the world fucked up.

1. How fucked up am I?
2. How fucked up are you?
3. How fucked up is the average, "normal" person?

This is important, people. To use a Pup-ism, comply, please!

One hundred and twenty.

Hours. I have one hundred and twenty hours until CPG arrives.

Holy. Fuck.

I keep looking around slightly helplessly at the house.

I managed to get the entire house cleaner than I've ever had it before BDTD visited and I was working full time. G did help a lot over that Thanksgiving weekend but mostly the spare bedroom and CPG and I have already decided I don't need to worry about that room. I've gotta stay focused here.

Yes, again with the lists.
  1. Bathroom must be inspection ready by Monday for plumber*
  2. Kitchen table must be cleared off by Monday
  3. Cobwebs and dog hair must be cleaned from living room, kitchen and hallway by Monday, i.e., sweep/mop
That gives me Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday to:
  1. Get the bedroom dedoghaired
  2. Pick up and wash all the clothes on the floor in the bedroom, that said, I'm going to do something I have never done before and let you all see just how monumental this task really is.
  3. Go to the grocery store.
  4. Get my hair trimmed.
  5. Get the kitchen and hall really, really cleaned like I did with the living room a couple of months ago.

Oh fuck. I'm never going to get all this done am I? Plus I have to stop smoking in the house...again...even when the bird is up. And, get the dogs accustomed to not sleeping on the bed.

Someone, please, just shoot me, k?

You know how the bird is moulting? And will now let me pet her? Since she doesn't have a bird flock, apparently I am in charge of helping her with her pin feathers which are the ones on her head that she can't preen herself. So. Tiny. Oh, and add cleaning off the keyboard to the list of things I should do 'cause it's pretty skanky looking.

Plus working on CPG's site.

Plus my normal dog walks.

I can do this. Right? It's gonna be okay. He's not going to hate me or care that I'm a slob.

See, BDTD said he wouldn't but he was snarky and awful. Both about my physical appearance and that I'm a slob.

Yes, CPG, thank you, I am aware that both things are things that I could fix and then I wouldn't have this over and over. But, once you have had someone reject you over those types of things it becomes increasingly important to know that the people you care about wouldn't and to not fix them for someone.

Part of it is the MS. That's not something I can control or fix. And, I had one too many people care about me until the MS. So, maybe it's a passive agressive thing: if you can't love me despite an extra 20 pounds and being a total slob, how could I possibly depend on you when the chips are really down?

But then why do I stress over the twenty pounds and my mess of a house?


I just don't know.

I could sleep for one hundred and twenty hours and then I wouldn't have to be all freaked out and stressed and miserable.

Saturday, August 20, 2005

Interlude And A Crisis Of Sorts

Before I started chatting with CPG I had seen a photo of him on a website. He was cute. I sent G the link and he and I both thought that CPG looked like G's friend A who I had a crush on when I was a kid. Cute. Non-threatening.

Then we start chatting and I discover that he's smart, funny and kind. Cool. So is A. Still cute, non-threatening and now amusing.

So, I send him the picture I hate of me playing frisbee with Fancy 'cause you can see my totally untoned, pudgy tummy and flabby arms and all of that. His response: oh, you're cute.

Great, we're on the same page.

A few nights later I complain that I don't have a photo showing any detail on his face. He sends me a photo where he looks as old as he says he is and slightly less cute than I thought he was. Okay. That's fine. He's still cute in a snuggly way, still un-threatening.

We go through all the stuff with my sending the photo the night before last and arguing, albeit mildly, about my motivation for doing so. I decide that he's maybe not as cute, funny, smart or kind as I might have initally thought. But, we work through it. He's still the same guy I've been talking to every night for two weeks.

Last night he was out and I was playing with design ideas for a website we are doing for his bird. I pulled what I think is an excellent concept and design out of my ass. I'd been piddling with it for a week and just couldn't come up with anything that I thought would really engage the user until I suddenly did last night.

It's a bit of a high to get those brainstorms and hit your stride in a design.

So, he comes home, looks at the design, listens to the concept and is pleased with both.

He's sending me some photos he got of his bird in the park and three of them are shots of him.

He's hot.

Not cute. Not snuggly. More like Jason Lee, slightly intimidatingly, fucking hot.

So I'm all, "what was with the snuggly/safe photo from the other night?"

He's all, "how do I not look safe?"

He doesn't look safe 'cause he so fucking far out of my league.

And I couldn't say it. He's going to be mad 'cause this is the first time I just coudln't talk it out with him and blogged it instead and he's going to read this and be mad that I couldn't discuss it with him.

I was so obsessed with DTD for so long and that was the foundation of what we had. He was hot and not interested in me and only barely tolerated my presence. All the little fucked up sex games were, according to him, because he felt sorry for me. Imagine, a guy just made you come like crazy, has no real response to it and says that he did it because, "you got such a kick out of it." This is not a confidence builder. I know it speaks as much to how fucked up DTD is as it does to anything to do with me. I know that. It's still hard as hell to wipe his voice out of my head.

And CPG will say, "but I'm not DTD so why would I behave the way that he did?"

I know that. But that doesn't mean that there is no way he couldn't behave like DTD.

I know this is melodramatic because if when he comes to visit he's like, "eew, you're fat, I don't want to fuck a fat chic" it isn't the end of the world. But, I just don't know how much more of that I can survive before I just curl up in a little ball and refuse to see or talk to anyone ever again.

Plus, as much as he thinks I intentionally sent an unflattering photo, I think he did too! My motive was to go ahead and let him get scared off before he got here. I think his was to put me more at ease.

I've got to be the only girl on the planet upset to discover that the guy who wants to have sex with her is hotter than she thought he was.

Friday, August 19, 2005

It'll be fun...right?

I'm accustomed to a fairly low level of constant stress/panic/tension. When BDTD came to visit it was just that on a higher level. With CPG I'm on this rollercoaster. Complete panic. It'll be ok...if it's a weekend fling, it's a weekend fling. Complete dispair. In between all of those are these beautiful moments of calm/relaxed/peace.

I sent him an email yesterday. With a photo that Rob, Anthony and Pup would probably like to see. No, I'm not posting it. The email was a list of five things I've never told anyone.

I meant it to get the things which make me the absolute most insecure out of the way. Apparently he felt like I had laid out a minefield and expected him to figure out how to walk through it without a map or a flak vest. And, he thought it was self sabotaging behavior.

I will admit that by revealing the photo and list of five things I did feel like I ran the risk of him deciding once and for all that I'm right and there isn't any reason for him to be all into me. But, I did not intend it as the trap that he seemed to think it was.

I was saying, "are you really sure?" He heard, "I hate myself and think you should too."

I don't hate myself. I just don't like myself as much as he seems to.

For about a half an hour I really thought that was it. He would come to visit. I'd fuck him because...well, just because. He'd go back home. I'd go back to my little life, he'd go back to flying his bird in Central Park.

I almost felt relieved, honestly.

A lot less pressure.

More on the line of my comfort level.

I wouldn't have to make adult decisions.

Okay, given that, maybe the email was self sabotaging behavior. Or at least intended to bring things down to a level I was more comfortable with.

During that half hour I kinda shut down. Went to a default I don't care. DTD would have bullied me out of that: fine, be tough girl, I'm not fooling with you. CPG got me to a place I've never been before: he got me to offer criticism of him. In my world that is just not acceptable. Not at all a safe thing to do. The only time I will openly criticize someone is if they make me really, really angry.

In my world, criticism is meant to be hurtful, not at all helpful...ever. Criticism is all about there is something totally wrong with the person being criticized. They need to fix that before they can be loved. If you are critical of someone, they are not worthy of being loved.

It's never, I love you AND I think you would be happier if.

It is always an assault.

And if you respond, you will pay for it later.

The only acceptable response is, "you're right, I'm sorry I'm so pathetic."

To Be Continued...

Thursday, August 18, 2005

What if I can't?

Because I can't just let myself stay happy. I'm so paranoid that the universe is out to get me and that if I actually feel happy the universe will know and feel the need to put me in my place by ruining whatever makes me happy. So I try to either not actually be happy or go ahead and ruin whatever it is before the universe can beat me to it.

I've never felt this way about anyone before.

God. He's so great.

How could anyone who's so smart and so together and funny and kind and just everything...how could someone like that care about me in any way that isn't just pity? I'm trying to be so uberhonest with him because I keep thinking that somehow I must have said or done something to make him think there is something about me that would merit his attention. When I know there isn't.

I'm so terrified that this isn't real and I'm going to fall apart when I discover that. I'm so terrified that it is real and I'm going to lose this chance with this incredible person that I think I could really love and who could really love me.

Okay, he's starting to get a little tired of dealing with this and y'all know how I do love to make a list so here are all the things I'm scared/worried about. Maybe if I just say them I can quit freaking out about them every five minutes and just know they're there but not have to keep reminding myself of them:
  1. I'm afraid he won't be attracted to me.
  2. I'm afraid I won't be attracted to him.
  3. I'm afraid that I'm not ready for this.
  4. I'm afraid that I will sabotage the relationship before it can even get started.
  5. I'm afraid that I will let him down.
  6. I'm afraid that I will let myself down.
  7. I'm afraid that I can't be the person that he thinks I am or thinks I could be.
  8. I'm afraid that I'm not worth anyone loving me.
  9. I'm afraid that I am worth loving because then that would mean I would have to be a whole, functional person and let's face it, my screwed-up-ness is the only really special thing about me.
  10. I'm afraid that I will let myself love him and as a result need him and when the chips are down he'll flake out on me. Seriously, how can people take that risk? How can you risk depending on someone? Do you all not see how dangerous that is?!? I know I'm not that trustworthy.
  11. I'm afraid that I'm really not trustworthy and he'll let me hurt him.
  12. I'm afraid that I'll let him build me up and then I'll want to move beyond that.
  13. I'm afraid that I'll turn into my mother.

Ending on the mother thing and 13 seems too symbolic to pass up.

Okay, deep breath. There isn't really anything I can do about most of that except deal with it. If I can't ever learn to trust anyone I'm going to spend my entire life in this crappy little apartment sitting in front of the computer and fantasizing about stupid bird trainers or dog trainers or whatever asshole I get obsessed with because they aren't actually a real person. I don't want that for me.

I want to be a whole person. I want to love someone who loves me back. I want someone to spend my life with. I want to be a little annoyed sometimes that they're a teensy bit defensive/stubborn/proud and still love them and still trust that they will be there for me when I need them. I want to love someone who isn't perfect and have them love me even though I'm not perfect either.

I want to accept the support and caring someone is willing to offer without questioning it constantly.

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Ever have one of those days?

Where everything went right?

It was sorta Twilight Zone-esque really.

But still cool.
  1. It was only 75 degrees!
  2. I decided that I love playing frisbee in the park with my dogs but that I don't give a flying fuck about competing so I went back to using a floppy flyer with Fancy much to her delight.
  3. I got a new client today for daily walks/training who specifically hired me because she disliked DTD after meeting him. After I had sent her to him. And I was able to manage both she and the dogs calmly and professionally. That fucking rocked. She asked me if he was gay and said that she thought he had a "little man complex." Really. Fucking. Rocked.
  4. I had a not unpleasant dinner with my parents.

Yeah, I think I should probably go to bed now too before anything can ruin it.

Tuesday, August 16, 2005


Every night we say that we're not going to stay on the phone for hours. Every morning I wake up tired. We have talked about everything. We were talking about DTD last night and CPG was all righteously angry on my behalf. I was trying to explain that I'm not necessarily interested in having someone slay that particular dragon. The dragon is semi-tame anyway and so long as you avoid that whole fire-breathing thing, it can't hurt you. I said that I'm basically purged of my anger toward DTD and that I will always have some fondness for who he was when I first met him and the effect he has had on me. Not all good, no, hardly, but not all of the results are bad either.

After several many hours of talking to CPG, I think I am just purged in general. Maybe not healed or past everything but DTD? That I'm past. That's in the past.

One down, four to go.

Yes, the house is still a disaster. And I am so, so tired. And it's pouring. I mean like sheets of rain. Thunder. Lightening. The whole nine yards.

But, you know what? I feel calm in a way that I don't ever remember feeling before.

Sunday, August 14, 2005


Daily Horoscope:

For August 15: Someone tries one more time to undermine your confidence. Don't waver, don't explain and don't cave. In a last ditch effort to confuse you, a frenemy tosses upsetting innuendoes your way. (Can anyone say "gaslight?") Don't let it break your stride. It appears that you're a source of discomfort for a meddling outsider. Since toxic vibes are contagious, steer clear of them. Write 'em off and shut the door.

Bubba got an upgrade to gorilla glue and electrical tape on his broken mirror.

Bird people (CPG excepted) are really irking me today.

I don't find The Office funny.

If I'm ever in this particular situation again, I am not giving the guy my blog URL. No offense CPG!


You guys remember that I hate Sundays right? And blogpatrol is upgrading so I can't set up a new account to see what the search words for BIA are.


Self Sabotage

If I could change one thing about myself the tendency toward self sabotaging behavior would be the thing I would change.

I have eleven days before CPG comes to visit. I had seventeen. I've already wasted six.

I DO want him to come visit. I DON'T want to be stressed out and unhappy that the house is either still a disaster or that I'm exhausted from cleaning.

So, why am I blogging and considering nap number two rather than getting something useful done?

I have never finished writing a paper earlier than the night before it was due. I almost never pay a bill until I have to have to although I am getting better about that. I've never gotten a site done early. I just cannot do stuff until it is literally do or die.

I recognize it as being self sabotaging. I'm aware that it would be practical to block out an hour a day for the next ten days to get the house nice and tidy.

Something about me likes that state of stress.

I'm going to take a nap.


First, I jokingly asked CPG the other night what his ex-girlfriends would tell me about him. I talk a lot so I was feeling like he was finding out a lot more about me than I was about him. He had his ex write a little testimonial for him and emailed it to me.

I'm sorry but that is just so loony and so fucking sweet all at the same time.
But hell, he's got the goods where it counts -- he's entirely trustworthy, responsible, good to people and has great friends. He'll be your best pal if you let him. Enjoy
K, mini-swoon.

We talked about DTD a lot last night. And about my needing these little sort of fantasy relationships as stepping stones toward the real thing and about the problem with...well, like Brian and Anthony and Pup kinda got me to this point so the problem with whatever is between CPG and me now also still being in the realm of fantasy and I can so see/feel that I'm just on the brink of being able to take that out in the real world but that it would kinda be better to go through a 3D Brian and Anthony and Pup before meeting the 3D CPG. If that makes any sense. In my head it does. Sorta.

I think both CPG and I are worried now that I'm just not quite ready for this to work.

Hmmm, sometimes blogging it out clarifies it for me. Sometimes it just makes it murkier.

I don't want to screw this up.

Saturday, August 13, 2005

I am not a nice person.

We desperately need rain. We're in drought conditions. The weather has been hot, muggy, just dreadful. It's getting ready to storm. That's good, the humidy dropped, everything needs the rain. Storms make me happy.

But, do you know why I'm actually happy? My mother is having a big, outdoor party tonight that I am forced to attend.

Rejoicing over someone else's day being ruined just isn't nice.

I'm still happy.


You know my whole thing with my one cooking claim to fame being my perfect chocolate chip cookies? What kind of cookie do you think CPG likes? Oatmeal rasin. I have never made oatmeal raisin cookies in my life! I spent years perfecting my chocolate chip cookie recipe.

He's a guy. He, of course, did not recognize this for the crisis it is. Shhh, don't tell him, but I was thinking of just buying some of the giant ones from Great Harvest.

Seriously, who prefers raisins to chocolate chips?

That's just not sane.

I am slowly making some headway on getting the house both visitor and dogcam ready. So, even if CPG hates me and breaks my heart at least his visit will have forced me to get the house cleaned up and I can relaunch the dogblog.

My panic level is remarkably low. Remarkably. I should be freaking out. The house is a mess. A guy is coming all the way from NY just to visit me. I haven't had sex in like two years and even then it wasn't as though I thought I was really good at it or anything.

Pretty much the only things I think I excel at are walking dogs and baking chocolate chip cookies, neither of which seems as though it will be called for in this case.

I feel so comfortable talking to him.

One would assume we'll eventually run out of things to talk about.

Friday, August 12, 2005


I'm stealing from the little engine that could but that is what the voice in my head has been whispering for the last day or so.

I'm just realizing that I've never actually had an adult relationship. Like, I understand them in theory but in practice it is entirely alien to me.

CPG patiently listened to me ramble for over an hour last night until I finally got around to the point that I'm not comfortable being in a position where I could fail another person and by doing so cause them harm.

So now I'm not only petrified that he's going to break my heart but that he would give me the power to do that to him.

He says from the very first conversation I've been saying, "don't trust me."

He's right and I don't know where this image of myself as being so untrustworthy is coming from. That is the card the 'rents played the night that mother followed me to the birds' house. I pointed out that I was only a half an hour late and daddy said, "but you've gotten so reliable that it was unusual enough for us to be worried" which I thought was patently unfair and ridiculous.

When was I so terribly unreliable anyway? Unreliable = passive agressive and that is not my role in the family.

I'm unreliable about money. Like, when I get credit card offers I'm just like, "seriously?!? how fucking stupid are you all? did you not even run a credit check on me??"

But on normal day to day stuff I'm pretty fucking reliable. People routinely entrust me with their homes and their pets. DTD leaves his house and his business in my sole guardianship with apparently fairly little concern.

If anything, I would say that the family roles are G as being the ubersmart, creative, unreliable one and me as being the practical, "oh Mikey will eat it" member of the family. When we were children my mother referred to us as the poet and the pragmatist.

Shit, I've gotta go walk dogs and now I'm just rambling but where does this fear of being so unreliable/untrustworthy that I would fail someone in a relationship come from and how do I overcome that? Is CPG just a step in the right direction or the ultimate destination?

Thanks for listening and for playing along in the demise of TPB :)

Don't worry, only fourteen days left.

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

To Anthony and Team Contentious Chic

A, you know you'll always be my favorite blogger. And, I know that you're being supportive because you care about what happens to me because you are a staunch supporter of Team Contentious Chic.

I really need everyone to not use my name, city or old blog name here though, k guys?

I know it's a pain. I know it seems stupid. But both DTD and mother are on the hunt. I suck at fake blogging. They know something is up and are nervous. Both are either calling or emailing me at every turn.

The only reason I deleted comments is because I do not want them indexed by search engines on terms that mother and DTD would look for to see if I have a new blog. You guys know that I never delete comments just 'cause I disagree with them or something. Hey, I'm the Contentious chic: I duke it out in the comments, baby.

I really need this space to take that last step and I really need Team Contentious Chic here with me.

CPG is incredible. I so wish you guys could talk to him because you would know that. But, as great as he is there are a lot of hurdles still to come and I may very well need a big tough ganster/porn star dude's shoulder to cry on; Brian and Amanda putting the kettle on, magiking up shortbread and turning every blasted thing into a euphemism; Debra passing me kleenex; Kenna audblogging pretty much anything (hey, the phone book works for me!); Ms. A.R., MDMH, Barbara and Shelly offerring sage and often the most hilarious advice; Angie, Jess and Becca telling me he's not worth it and suggesting ice cream/shopping solutions; Pup and Rob kicking some ass and saying they still want mine < g > etc. to get through it if it just blows up in my face.

Every single one of you has helped me more than you know to get to this point. You put up with the Flash goldfish jumping over the words and the horizontal scrolling layout and the black and grey Kerry lost mourning layout. You listened to rants about DTD without being judgemental about me being an idiot for ever even talking to him. Anthony even got people started donating to Boston Cure Project to make up for his candidate winning.

You guys gave me the opportunity to really explore everything in a totally safe environment. You guys knew that I was going somewhere with this before I ever did.

You gave me confidence when I really had none.

I think I really needed to do things the way that I did initially, passive agressive though it may have been. Now though, I don't see anything to be gained by continuing to allow mother or DTD access to my feelings. Basically they've just lost that right. I mean, I guess they had before I even started blogging only I just didn't see it.

I know this has gotten maudlin but I really need you guys now and I really think I need to do this this way and I just wanted to let you know how very, very much I appreciate you guys and that if I delete a comment it is not for any reason other than to protect myself.


Freaking out? Scale of one to ten...maybe a six or seven?

But that's a normal day for me, right?

Don't yell. I know Ms. A.R. is going to yell. I gave CPG the BIA URL. I know. The second I did it I began a litany of that was so stupid, I'm a fucking idiot, moron... But, you know what he asked me last night when I said something about the comments? He asked if he could look. He's like an actual adult. I don't even know what to do with that! He and Anthony are bonding in the comments ;)

So yeah, when this doesn't work out I'm going to have to start a new anonymous blog and Brian will have to change his links again so I can safely bitch and rant and vent. I guess I can just move back to TPB.

I don't know what I'm doing.

I'm staying up way too late. Having insanely intense conversations on the phone that should almost undoubtedly wait until we're face to face. He keeps trying to convince me that I'm worth all this trouble and I know that I'm not. I'm just me and I'm kinda, sorta a mess.

On the one hand I really am genuinely trying to make sure he understands that he's dealing with a little mini disaster in the making but on the other hand I'm petrified that in doing so I will actually run him off.

When I had an online thing once before I didn't want to meet the guy because I wanted to look better than I did before I met him. I'm a lot more comfortable in my skin now about physical appearance. Now it's more that I want to actually be someone who is worth all this trouble before he meets me. In the first case, at least you can think that if you just don't eat for a couple of weeks it'll make it all better but I can't exactly fix a lifetime of low self confidence and self-defeating behavior in two weeks.

I have a sick feeling that he thinks that I can.

I think my big fear is that if I let someone fix me, I will lose whatever it is that makes me me. So, while I understand that there are things about my behavior that need to be fixed I'm afraid that without those things I won't be who I am anymore and I don't exactly know how to be anyone else.

Like, I always thought that DTD had all the power in our relationship and even though I understood that my obsession with him was a way for me to avoid a real relationship or intimacy I didn't think about the fact that that was also a way for me to control that relationship. I didn't think about the fact that he knew if he pushed for anything more I would have run screaming and since he was married I had a valid excuse for it at hand.

I've always seen myself as more "willing victim" in that situation than being in the driver's seat. I have a lot invested in that picture but change the perspective a little bit and does it tell an entirely different story? I don't actually know.

Wow, when I say I'm going to start a new blog to move forward I'm not playin' around, hunh.

I feel like this is either going to be what I need to take that last step into being a fully funtioning person or it's going to blow up in my face and I'm going to run back into my dark, little cave with a few more scars than I have now.

Oh, and the bird. That was the choice that started me on this particular path remember. This remarkable little two ounce feathered creature. She's so tiny to have changed so many things for me. It's an awful burden for anything that fragile to carry. First it was just such a lovely validation of me as a PS that my client would entrust me with her. Then it was a real last straw with mother. Then BTD which got me really re-evaluating what I want because he is a prime example of what I had so do I hide in the safety of that or do I ignore the bait and move on. Then CPG. The unfair thing being that I don't know that I did ignore the bait so much or if I just ran up on better bait. At least I saw that it was better bait?

I get some credit, right?

The bird is moulting. How poetic is that!

Tuesday, August 09, 2005


I don't think last night's conversation was quite nine hours but it was a lot more than twenty minutes and I only wound up getting five hours of sleep.

I couldn't stand the not knowing for a month and a half so we spent a while trying to figure out a meet in the middle solution. Basically all of those are more inconvenient with more awkward possibilities than the alternative of my going to NY or CPG coming here which we had both already dismissed.

So, don't ask me how the last thing we talked about wound up being him booking a ticket here in two weeks.


WHAT am I going to do with a guy who has always lived in big cities in podunk not the south-not the midwest? I can't think of anything fun to do. He'll be bored. I'll be all tense and freaked out and what I'll learn in two weeks is that he doesn't really like me and this won't work and I am a pathetic loser.

I'm surprisingly, really actually alarmingly calm. Don't expect that to last. I certainly don't. But, at the moment I'm just focused on what I need to do to have a house guest in two weeks.

And, the mere fact that he would blow three hundred bucks on a plane ticket to come visit me? Jesus. And I even sent him the I look all flabby and pudgy like I actually am so I never send anyone this photo photo. And I told him he would be bored and I wouldn't be able to come up with anything fun to do and I would undoubtedly freak out 'cause that's just what I do. He has certainly dealt with more than one freak out.

I must just be too tired or drained to freak out. And I have too much stuff that I have to get done.

Now I'm freaking out about not freaking out.

It was bad enough with BelgianDTD and I didn't have any like feelings for him, that was more "oh that would be sort of cool." This has true meltdown potential. Betcha money that he didn't get the ticket yet because he's anticipating a one eighty here.

FUCK. I really like this guy.

Monday, August 08, 2005

One a dem dere todo list postamabobs

Okay, now that things don't feel quite so serious/intense/life or death, it might not be a bad idea for me to get back to getting the normal, mundane things in my life done in a timely fashion again.
  1. replacement page for web client
  2. fix aspi files for cd burner
  3. figure out what the fuck is wrong with my printer*
  4. send EW harness back for correct size
  5. email that place that expects me to return their crap at my expense
  6. do something about the layout on BIA
  7. take a nap

Yeah, I'm so totally taking the nap first.

I could feel that I was ready for change before CPG popped up so I am trying to focus on that more than on anything between CPG and me. More than likely, he is just representative of the fact that I am realizing that I am ready to move forward with things. Right?

*I have a sneaking suspicion that bird seed might be the culprit :(


Only three hours tonight but there was an earlier, briefer call.

I am falling so hard, so fast and it's so scary.

I told him that the thought of just not talking to him anymore until I was physically present had crossed my mind and we discussed why I felt like that and got into MS stuff and finally he was just saying that I needed to just not worry and obsess so much and I said that that was just soooo hard for me and he said, "well, what can I do to help you?"

Oh. My. Gawd.

I was literally speechless. Not a common occurrence with me. He continued into the long pause with, "I'm sorry but this is obviously troubling you and if nothing else I think at this point we can say that we're friends if nothing else so I want to know what I can do to help you so that it isn't troubling to you."

He doesn't want me worried and stressed and freaking out and rather than either attacking the fact that I am or just being totally put off by it he thinks that I have enough good qualities that he want to know what he can do to alleviate my concern.

Since one of my biggest concerns is that this is getting too intense, too fast and in this particular way that things will just absolutely fall apart when we do meet. That has to be the longest sentence fragment in history but I couldn't come up with punctuation that would make sense to add in the rest of the sentence: he came up with no more than 20 minute phone conversations between now and meeting so I still get to talk to him which, ooooh, I love talking to him. I don't like his speaking voice anymore than I did initially but oooh Shelly...you were so right. So, I still get to talk to him but things can't be intense and weird.

I told him that basically my greatest fear about the MS in terms of relationship stuff is that there isn't anything about me that counters the negatives of dealing with someone with MS and I don't want to inflict the MS on anyone else. So, on the one hand I'm afraid that no one would ever love me enough to deal with the MS stuff and on the other hand I don't want anyone I love to have to deal with it. Kind of a catch-22.

He said I'm special...and not in a special bus way. Gotta love it when someone can make you swoon and laugh all at the same time. I'm lame, I just said, "aww, that is so sweet, thank you." I had said it as a joke, something about "see, I'm special" and he said, very intently, "you are special."

This is going to suck so bad when it doesn't work out.

Sunday, August 07, 2005

I don't even know what to post.

CPG called this afternoon. Chatted a little while. Less intense. More, I don't know, relationshipy? Like:
Me: So how did it go with your bird in the park today?
Him: He was totally awesome, he was flying away from me, I called him and he turned midair and flew straight back to me.
Me: That's great!
Him: I guess I should get some dinner.
Me: Okay, what are you in the mood for?
Him: I'm not sure yet, what do you think?
Me: Well, what do you usually eat.
Just like normal, day to day minutia. It's very nice on the one hand but on the other I'm almost inclined to want to just back totally off and just have limited contact unless and until I go to NY to see him. I'm getting worried that we'll get too familiar or comfortable or something with the phone thing. So. Much. Angst.

Then, BTD emailed me and got all flirtatious. WTF? Could he sniff out a shift away in me or what???

I think that's it.

Nine hour phone conversations

What, you've never had one of those?

I know it would just be simpler to go out and meet some guy who already happens to live where I live but when have I ever done anything the simple way? I have very obviously been waiting for CPG to disprove my initial impression of him. Like, the least little thing and I have a go to pieces over it and post a dozen mini posts about how it was a big mistake and it won't work.

He could hear me typing last night and totally knew what I was doing. Towards the end of the (very long) conversation we even talked about the fact that that first ten minutes had been pretty rough going in terms of the idea of my going up to NYC to meet him, i.e., the step from IM to phone is small, the step from phone to real life is pretty fucking huge. I guess the moral being to give it at least 15 minutes before I come to any conclusions about anything.

The two different cities thing is still quite problematic. It would have been soooo nice if he just lived an hour or so away and we could have chatted on the phone and made plans to get together next weekend or something. A lot less pressure.

There were several things he said which gave me reason to pause. Not the things that a lot of people would react to like years of therapy for serious depression or the fact that he has almost nothing to do with his family. Little things.

He made me laugh a lot. He told me sad stories about people he's known and things he has been through. He coaxed bits and pieces of my past out that I don't usually share with anyone, even on a blog.

I want this to work out. I don't want to wind up all heartbroken and miserable.

Wigged Out

Ummm, still on the phone, checking travelocity for tickets to new york. He's singing Tom Waits to me. And he flies his parrot in Central fucking Park. He chose Clockwork Orange as the movie he would be stuck in.

But, I can't move to new york!!!!!

Saturday, August 06, 2005

Oh double dear :( :(

He truly believes that raw dog food is better. He's an idiot. Dammit.

Oh dear :(

I so don't like his speaking voice :(

I dunno guys.

Advice please!

K guys, he just gave me his phone number and told me I should give him a call tonight. Do I call or not?!?

Better than a Victorian fainting couch...

SCIENTISTS looking for less controversial alternatives to stem cells from human embryos yesterday said they had found a potential source in placentas saved during childbirth.
Strom's team tested the cells in lab dishes, incubating them in various compounds, and got them to form into what looked like heart cells, nerve cells, liver cells and pancreatic cells.
It would make me very happy to have full sensation in my legs and feet again!

CPG and I have continued chatting in IM daily. I'm starting to see a few, small faults with him. That is probably good though, right? No one is perfect. For one thing, it would be nice if he were a teensy bit more successful. I know, that's awful. I don't mean that is an absolute neccessity but it would be nice. Then there is the fact that he seems perfectly happy in NYC and I would be absolutely miserable living in the city. That is a rather big problem. Sigh. Why couldn't he be independantly wealthy and live on a farm somewhere where it doesn't get too, too cold or too, too hot?

I just don't know how this could work out and it sucks 'cause, if I haven't mentioned it, I really like him.

Tomorrow is my first completely free day since June fourth! No wonder I'm exhausted and my legs are acting up! It's been over 90 with high, high humidity for a month and I haven't had a whole day to just veg in two freakin' months!

On the one hand it seems totally silly to turn down work just to sit around the house, especially when I might just be turning down one sit that only takes 45 minutes. But on the other hand, I totally feel like I am just hurtling toward extensive and perhaps permanent nerve damage (to the sumblers upon BIA, I've got MS.)

One of my problems with hiring an employee is that I just don't have the work to give them on a consistent basis. Maybe my solution is hire a part-timer and assure them one weekend a month of sits? Then I get to dip a toe in the water of having employees and I get a free weekend. Thoughts? And yes, it would have to be someone who doesn't actually need the money but that has been part of the problem all along, at least this would give them a consistent schedule.

I've also just picked up not one, not two but three web design projects. One of which is long term to permanent and should bring in an extra couple of hundred bucks a month.

Friday, August 05, 2005


I ordered this stuff from this bird supply company. It never showed up. UPS showed it being stuck in Illinois for more than a week. Called UPS to find out what was going on. They said that the sender would have to contact them. Emailed the company and asked them to contact UPS to find out what's going on. The company sent out a replacement package but were out of the perch I had ordered and sent another one that is too big for the intended purpose. Both packages showed up on the same day. When the company told me they were sending a new package, I asked them what they wanted me to do in the event that this happened. They did not respond. When both showed up, I shot off an email and said, thanks, I have both packages, what do you want me to do with the extra stuff and wrong perch?

They want me to mail it back to them, of course. Okay, my problem is that the fucking shipping cost as much as both things I ordered combined and it took me three weeks to get my stuff. I didn't *ask* them to send me this extra package w/ the wrong fucking perch. IF they had included a prepaid shipping label, I would be delighted to send the extra back to them. They did not do that. Why the FUCK should I have to pay to ship their stuff back to them and go to the time and trouble to do so when I already paid to have it sent to me and none of this was a problem on my part.

Thursday, August 04, 2005


I took Solo with me to naked woman's house today. She and I have actually gotten pretty tight. No, boys, not in that way. A. I'm impressed as fuck that she's 50 years old. I thought she was in her early forties. B. She has Lupus - kind of a bonding moment there. C. She's very intrigued by the concepts behind training methods and we all know that I can talk ad nauseum about that shit all freakin' day and be happy as a clam.

So, I asked her on Tuesday if she would let me bring Solo with me and if she would release Solo from her carrier from the hallway above the 2 story high great room. She was all into it. God it was a scary 30 seconds before Solo decided to come down to me though. The instant when she finally hopped out of the carrier and plunged into the air. Terror. And that instant when I realized that she was in fact going to come straight to me? Relief. Joy. Pride. Love.

I told DTD I was so into this whole thing 'cause it's like the ultimate recall training. The feeling in that instant was completely and utterly unlike any feeling I have ever gotten from teaching a dog to come to me when I called it.

And BTD shat all over the moment.

Saw that one coming, didn't ya.

CPG found TPB this morning and has IMed me a couple of times today and now he's calling BTD, BTD! I asked an email question about BTD and EG (pretty soon the entire blog is going to be acronymns and initials and I'll have to snail mail you all decoder rings) and he ansered in IM with "he's gay then." And I said, "who?" And he said, "BTD."

I did tell him that I am no longer updating that blog very often. I did not tell him about this blog. I really like him.

He took the time to look up some MS stuff and asked me some very intelligent questions and gave me some personal training advice about creating new neural pathways.

I want him to be as kind and smart and funny in real life as he is online. And I'm so worried that he won't be. There is almost no way that he could be.

The chances that he even exists outside my head are like a bazillion to one.

We did some past sharing last night and I kinda tripped on the infp/capricorn thing and yet I didn't chase him off. Have I mentioned that I really like him?

What that was all about

I take it some clarification is needed. There's this guy on BTD's email list. When he joined the list his first post was:
I just want to say that the way you cross your t's is just wrong.
Remember that there has been a LOT of hostility, attacks, arguments, controversy, etc. I immediately posted back and said:
Well, you can't dot your i's to save your life!
BTD and entrhalled guy both posted wanting to know what was going on, why we were bringing arguments to the new list. Apparently they are deficient in the humor category. I thought CPG's cross your t's thing was hilarious and kind of brilliant.

Then, when I freaked out about the bird losing a feather he emailed me privately and helped me determine that it was just normal moulting stuff.

Yesterday he asked me for my AIM name and we chatted off and on all day.

Crazy mother interlude. My mother just called. At nine o'clock in the morning. To chat. I do not chat at 9 a.m. I'm not even awake. My eyes are still all blurry. It takes me a good hour of dicking around reading my email and blogs and drinking some diet coke before I am at all capable of saying more than yes and no. She wanted to know if I had a new daily walk client to replace the SV. I can't explain how dreadful she is when she asks you those questions. She *thinks* she is faking sympathy (because remember that my mother doesn't have any actual normal emotions for other people) but it very clearly reads through as "but if you don't get it together who is going to take care of me when I'm old and in a nursing home?!?" Her whole thing about imitating the behavior & tone of normal people is just so fucking creepy. And she's just so bad at it. Maybe she's an alien.

Anyway, I was chatting with CPG a lot yesterday. And he is just soooo perfect. He's smart. He's funny. He's kind. He loves animals but not in a crazy way. He's cute. It was like this crazy "shit, he might actually be a freakin SOUL mate!" thing. He was seriously that in tune with pretty much everything I hold to be important. And yes, I did actually say that I had a question I was now asking every guy I meet and could I have a Galapogos tortoise if we got married. He thought it was hilarious but also was fascinated that you could just go out and buy a Galapogos tortoise.

I know that it's very weird for people to just meet and then have that be the person you wind up spending your life with but that was exactly what happened with G's friend K and I happened to be there the night that K and S met. So, I guess I have always thought that eventually I would run into my S.

I don't know, maybe CPG is but I just can't imagine that 2 capricon/infps are going to manage to be around one another on a daily basis. Plus I sort tripped when I discovered that so I think I finally did freak him out.

I'm such a loser.

Well, crap!

He's an infp AND a capricorn. That SUCKS! NO WONDER I like him so much. I'm fucking talking to myself!

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

THE Question

He said I could have a Galapagos Tortoise if we got married!

It get's better!

Just dropped the MS bomb. He asked how I was doing with the MS and I said, "oh, I'm pretty much okay for the time being. Honestly, I kinda won the MS lottery." And he said, "why did you buy a lottery ticket if you knew this might happen."

Seriously, SWOON!


AND, he's a Democrat :)

I didn't think there were any!

Straight, single, nice, cute guy who free flies his bird in Central Park. He's 43. He's a personal trainer. He's all into BTD's system but not a BTD suck-up. His bird is waaaaay cool, a Red Front Macaw. He has a Border Collie/Blue Heeler cross. I thought for sure he was gay.

But, I kinda like him so there has got to be something wrong with him, right?

I even pulled a classic CC moment on him and he reacted quite well! He mostly just umhmmed his way through it.

In other news, I went to a meeting of the local bird club last night. Yeah, don't think I'll be doing that again. Other than Central Park guy (CPG from here on out), I'm not finding that I have much in common with the bird folks.

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

This just in:

Dear contentious chic,
Here is your single's love horoscope
for Tuesday, August 2:

Your energy is astronomical today. You're glowing like a star. Your wisest move is to put all that radiance toward this person you're crushed out on. Let them bask in your light.

Hunh. Really? That isn't what Elle said.

Monday, August 01, 2005

There are...

SOOOOOOO many other things I should be doing right now other than obsessing over a stupid, fucking, bird trainer.

Seriously, someone just slap me.

Let's Start Over

Yes, I loved TPB too. I'm gonna miss being the PB. Too many people who I am currently having problems with have that URL. I can't speak freely anymore which negates the use of a blog to begin with.

This morning my mother emailed me and mentioned that she would be happy to cook some chicken and broccoli for me. Shudder. Not on the chicken and broccoli just that a) she was being invasive and b)trying to worm her way back into my life innappropriately.

I haven't decided whether or not to give my brother this URL. I'm basically privately emailing it to everyone except my parents and my clients. See, now I can really bitch about my clients!

Today's the first day without Stroke Victim which makes me sad. I really did hope I would hear from the wife over the weekend.

Thanks Team Contentious Chic...because I am, you know :)