Change Cups! Move Down, move down
07-12-06 | 22:08
Honk if you're out there.
Lame indeed, but I am curious to know if more than one person is reading my little words.
So - thirty days, twenty-nine not counting this evening, so when I wake up tomorrow morning it will be twenty-nine days until PB moves out. We had a mini discussion this afternoon about giving me an exact date, and end point so I will know for sure when he will move out - he gave me August tenth. I just put two new bars of soap in my bathroom, one for the sink and one for the shower, I wonder if the bars will be washed down by the time he moves out. I think like that about things in the apartment lately. A few months ago I filled my cotton swab jar, and will I have to refill it before he moves out, or will I need to buy a new bottle of mouthwash within the month? Jesus what a sorry entry.
I didn't go to Pilates again today, but I did go to training.
OK I have absolutely nothing to write about. I talked a lot about PB, and basically my prior entry with my therapist today. It was funny, all week and even on the walk to see her I thought about what I was going to say, but once I came in and was sitting down I kind of lost my articulation. I was scattered and bumbling, kind of like here, now. I came across my therapist in the street this morning, it was sort of weird, even stranger was that it was not mentioned when I saw her later. It wasn't as if either of us were doing anything weird, just both walking - in opposite directions - along Fifth Avenue, but it was stranger still to me, that it wasn't mentioned.
Alright I'm going to end this tragically dull and painful entry, hopefully tomorrow night my thoughts will be less lame.
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07-11-06 | 23:07
Oh Dear, writing just to write, trying to write as often as possible. I feel like I am wilting, like a flower without sunlight, and now without water. For the past two years I've been living with needless stress, and because of my desire to avoid conflict and not hurt the one that I love I did something against my better judgement, no against ever fiber in my being, and when I had a second chance - when he returned from Ireland in April - I went against my instinct again! All out of fear of him getting upset. Because he would want me to explain, and the explanation is not the problem, no the problem is his lack of understanding. It is as if there is this wall in his mind and he refuses to see things my way. He calls me crazy for being inconsistent with him, in a perfectly good mood one minute and in a terrible mood the next, he says that is a form of torture, but he does the same thing - He makes me afraid to ask him to lift a finger in the apartment. Just this evening I was getting out of a shower and he was making for the bedroom to go to sleep - the bed is unmade, and has not been made all week - I gently ask him is he can make the bed, and if not I'll be glad to do it. His reply to me is "Don't be silly, I was just about to make the bed myself." How am I to know from one moment to the next which way he will be when he too is inconsistent?
We are out of toilet paper, we have been for a few days now - the dirty mess that is my boyfriend has a roll of paper towels in the bathroom. WHY THE FUCK doesn't he go and buy toilet paper himself?
When I asked him that question in less harsh a tone he stated that he wasn't waiting for me to buy him
toilet paper, it just wasn't a high priority for him. Just like wiping his ass, or doing laundry, or brushing his teeth or knowing what day it is or remembering my schedule, as it is always the same isn't a high priority for him. I quit doing laundry for him a month ago, I honestly assumed he would do it himself by now.
I've been planning a vacation for myself in November, first I planned to go to London, then Hawaii, then J0st [email protected]
Dyke, on the Virgin lslands, but then I realized that I would be taking myself and PB on vacation since he wouldn't be able to afford it, what fun is that? I want a MAN, someone who shaves and washes daily, someone who plans nice things for us to do and doesn't just complain that we don't do things together, someone who wants
to go away with me and plans it with me, proactively and does not just wait around for me to do something.
My mother's birthday was last month, and in the days leading up to it I told PB about it over and over again, he couldn't even send a happy birthday email on time. He didn't even need to buy her anything, he didn't even need to phone her - and he couldn't get bloody email out on time.
I want someone who understands when I am slipping into a depression and swoops in to try and lift me out and doesn't just muddle with me in the depths. One of my first signs of depression is messiness, I want someone who will see that and make an effort to clean up after me, so that I will see and even save myself.
And with all of this I am scared I am falling out of love with him. And I truly hope that when he moves out things will improve. Why have I been with him for so long when I've always known that he couldn't provide for me what I really needed?
This afternoon he rings me up and suggests a movie - after our movie fiasco (see older entry) on Friday I wasn't up for a repeat, but he assures me that he will handle the tickets and message me the show time, etc. I had panned on going to Pilates. On my way home from work this evening I ring him to see where he is with this and he is eating with a friend. He made no arrangements and he tells me that he will call when he is finished - but of course he cannot tell me when that will be, he is always so elusive with time and not because he is sneaky, just because he doesn't think, and that is even more frustrating - anyway, I arrive home before him and start making arrangements for the movie, he comes home and I tell him that I've got the tickets and such and all he says is: wait for it.....
The movie was great by the way, it totally took me out of myself, but my reality slowly unfolded with every block we walked on the way back to my apartment.
And I suppose I'll finish up with the best thing ever - he still doesn't know when he is going to move out! Bloody hell! I cannot even focus on a date to clam me down when I start to hyperventilate from the stress. And of course he doesn't know because the roommates are a bunch of flakes and they are waiting for a check to clear, so the grandmother can die, so the guy can rob the bank and save the girl and blow up the evil genius' master lair. Bullshit, bullshit - it all translates to ........
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07-10-06 | 19:48
I truly loathe just working, then coming home and not existing. I had plenty of things to do this evening. I needed to go to the fruit stand and buy some grapefruit and mango, I needed to buy some skackies so I don't raid the cookie cupboard at work tomorrow, and I planned to go to the gym before all of this. But what I really did was wash my face and loll around, and then order Sacred Chow. Now full of vegan hot dog and some roasted eggplant, I feel well, not as gross as I would if I ordered a pizza, or nachos,and I don't feel so terrible bout not gong to the gym, I've been so tired lately, so exhausted, I don't know if it is because of the living situation - oh this reminds me what I wanted to write about on Saturday --->
PB went out with the boys, and I was left home alone. When he does this I go batshit, I don't know what happens but like, a neuron explodes and I go insane. I start thinking bout all my other boyfriends and sexual relationships, and I fantasize about being with any one of them, and I text my ex, the one that comes up in conversation, the tall skinny volatile, bloody good sex ex. I get mad at PB and I could swear that he is doing lines off some sluts stomach. I began to hate him. Stuck in my little world of memories.
This is because of two things:
We are living together. If he didn't live with me I wouldn't be waiting for him. I could lock my door at night, and not have to think about him coming home at Lord knows what hour waking me up, I won't think about him being outside and me being here, I will be by myself and I won't be, I won't be stuck.
I don't feel special, I look back upon ll my past relationships and realize that almost each and every one of them (the ones that matter) made me feel special, even the one guy who was just pure fucking. I don't feel special from PB anymore.
Maybe because we live together, I think when he moves out things will be much better.
Who the fuck knows?
OK, so now I'm watching I L0ve the Seventies, vol. two and that has completely sucked out my desire to write and all I want to do is watch the show, even though it was eleven years before I was born, but i can think of my mom and dad in that time.
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07-08-06 | 09:24
I woke up this morning with a heavy heart. On a beautiful, perfect summer day such as this the day looms over me, I am lonely, I have no one to spend the day with. In the past PB and I would wake up together, or before we lived together we would meet up and have a nice long brunch and walk around for hours, then go back to my place have a drink, have sex and then meet up with friends. What ever happened?
I took the day off yesterday. I spent the morning watching a movie I had just recently seen because the thought of going outside scared me (depressed anyone?) when I finally felt better I walked to the gym where I worked out for a total of ten minutes, I was so sore from working out for the first time in eight weeks on Wednesday that it hurt to do any more, nonetheless I was somewhat upset with myself. Then I walked to the big B&N on 17th Street and quickly lost interest and then walked to Pure Juice and ordered a juice and some food. In the taxi cab on the way home I felt exhilarated. I didn't know if it was the sunny day, the non-workout, or the crystal manna
in my juice, but I felt great and of course the feeling didn't last. By the time PB came home, I was falling asleep (six o'clock, depressed anyone?) but we decided to see [email protected]
Returns and there was a show playing at 7:55 and it was only seven o'clock when we left the apartment. The theater was a madhouse, so many people everywhere, both the automated and old fashioned ticket lines were practically down the block. By the time we get to the kiosk we are informed that the 7:55 show is almost sold out and we would have to go to a ticket taker (read wait on another twenty minute line), so we tried for the 7:15 show and it was open! Score! We go inside and the show is already starting! And there are no seats! So we painfully sit on the floor and the [email protected]
music is playing and getting me all excited to see the movie and then the theater checkers come in and promptly kick us out, we have to go to customer service to try and get in the 7:55 show, but by this time the show is bloody sold out already. So I get refunded. PB then asks the theater checkers what he would do in a situation when people were holding seats once the movie has already started (which is why we had to sit on the floor) and the checker told him that all PB had to do was get one of them and they would straighten everything out. So PB said to me the next time this happens (next time?!?
) he will do just that. I replied - "Yeah, and then after the movie we can get mugged and murdered" to which PB replied 'Oh yeah, I forgot about the after the movie part."
So I am terribly upset because it was both a hassle and embarrassing, an embarrassing hassle if you will, and so very frustrating to have what happened to us happen. So We decided to go to the IFC and see this French movie about a moustache, but we realized that we were five minutes late. So then
PB suggests we get some sushi at this great place he was telling me about but they had no tables! Anyone getting the theme of the evening yet? We finally end at Blue Ribbon where we drink wine and get into some serious conversation. I asked PB if I was always like this - Always depressed. He told me that at first it was the dope that covered it up, and then it was the vodka. And I started doing dope when I was twenty in the fall of '02 and stopped in the summer of '03. The I promptly turned to drinking and continued that for about a year or so. So I suppose that delayed PB getting to really know me, and delayed and dulled what I am going through now. It was a time that I can never get back again, not matter how badly I want it I can never go back to living the life I had, because I am older and more actualized now. As much as I hate it, and believe me I do hate it, I would wish to go back to the past, any past of mine would so but ideally the time after dope and before PB and I had that whole cheating breaking up mess when my life consisted of sleeping in, and shopping, and primping and reading diaryland and God knows what else, basically when I was shut in but maintained communication at arms length. That was so much easier. It is so much easier to be stupid and shallow and to not pay attention to the 'why' of your actions.
I am really in a mess now aren't I? Therapy really did a great job of dragging this us and mucking it all about.
So my expansive day of loneliness:
Esther is coming at eleven o'clock, so I need to go get fresh juice and salad fixings before that.
After that I need to buy some new ballet flats. Because the two pairs I have now are nasty icky. PB wants to go with me to the gym after work, so I have until 4:30, I think I'll call my friend R who can hopefully give me the number to an old friend of mine who I would love to see again.
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