1.06.2005
Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch...
I can’t get this out of my head: a sweet little song from Brownie Camp (I lasted about a month – between the troop leader’s alcoholism and the time they took us camping and made us fry eggs on coffee cans, I had enough of Brownies) that went like this: “I’ve got something in my pocket that belongs across my face, and I keep it very close at hand in a most convenient place.” Um. Can you see me singing that?
Even as an 8-year-old I was not cut out for Group Girl Activities. I didn’t want to earn patches or hike or make macramé plant-holders – I just wanted to wear the sash and play B-52s albums while the troop leader passed out on the sofa with the curtains drawn. Ah, the Brownie Smile…why does it sound so perverted to me? I am a sick individual.
(I so had phone sex with my naughty friend yesterday, btw, and today he called me at work and talked dirty to me. All I could say were things like, “That sounds like a fabulous idea!” and “Yes, I’d really like that.” It was so lame, but so good.)
Also had a fight with the EH around 4:45. At work. (Big day at work…) He sent a nice, passive-aggressive email about how he’s “out of the loop” for the refi and he’s afraid he’ll be taken advantage of because “nobody is looking out for his best interests.” Then he said, “Don’t get angry.”
Now, that’s just basic psychology – you tell someone “don’t get angry” and what’s the first thing they do? Right – get angry. So I called him up since I was incensed and didn’t want to pound it out over email. I expressed to him the novelty of the situation – it is my loan, after all, and nobody is out to get him, plus he’s getting a nice fat check from it. “Just trust me,” I told him, “don’t make yourself out to be a victim.” Then he threw me something that really pissed me off, and I finally had to be like “I’m at work right now, and I can’t have this conversation.” So I hung up the phone and announced, “Hate you!” which was met by gales of laughter. Evidently, I was not at all quiet, and the “hate you” put everyone within earshot right over the edge. My face was burning – it was deep purple – I didn’t even have to see it to know it, and I was laughing, too, out of sheer embarrassment. When I finally left the office this woman said to me, “We hate him, too.”
Oh, good times.
So I haven’t been blogging for a number of days b/c I’ve been on Puppy Overload. He hasn’t left my side since New Year’s Day. We are having the best time. I didn’t know that a man and a woman could have this kind of close, intimate friendship without getting busy! Honestly – I had two unexpected, long-term relationships start out this way, and I’ve been wondering, “Why doesn’t the Puppy want to fuck me?”
But I don’t want to fuck him, either. I like our intimacy just the way it is. Plus, as I’ve mentioned, he comes with a great deal of baggage and he just turned 29 – on the same day as my wedding anniversary. I’ll turn – gulp – 34 in April.
Anyhoo, we’ve done a lot of talking lately about who we are, what we want from life, and where we hope to get it. And I’ll spare the details but it comes down to this: Portland is back on my radar. He’s going first – his mom lives up there and he’ll stay with her until I find a job. Then I’ll head up there and we’ll get an apartment together downtown.
All his idea.
I have been wanting to move to Portland for the last 13 months, and now it seems like a window has opened to me and a major obstacle - total aloneness - has been eliminated. Not only will I have a friend up there, but it will be someone who's looking out for me – making sure I come home at night and that I have rice milk in the fridge and booze in the pantry.
One of the things we had to clear up, though, was what happened back in September. A person doesn’t tell you “I never want to see you again” and then 3 months later say “leave the state with me and be my roommate” without something major happening in his mind. So last night he invited me over and I was determined to get to the bottom of it. Made a lot of things really clear to both of us, and – hopefully – cemented our friendship to the point where I can put my trust in him.
Wish me luck. The next couple of months are crucial. I need to find a job in Portland – the sooner I’m employed, the sooner I can move…I’ll rent the house in Phoenix. I’ve been looking to make a change for years – marriage or not. In fact, one of the reasons I liked the EH in the first place was because he wanted to leave Phoenix as much as I did (or so I thought). Our plan – as friends – was to get out of town and start over someplace where they had seasons and culture and people who weren’t interested in being as cookie-cutter creepy as they are here.
I can barely grasp that I’m seriously going to attempt such a bold move. With the Pup. My God, life is strange, isn’t it…
Even as an 8-year-old I was not cut out for Group Girl Activities. I didn’t want to earn patches or hike or make macramé plant-holders – I just wanted to wear the sash and play B-52s albums while the troop leader passed out on the sofa with the curtains drawn. Ah, the Brownie Smile…why does it sound so perverted to me? I am a sick individual.
(I so had phone sex with my naughty friend yesterday, btw, and today he called me at work and talked dirty to me. All I could say were things like, “That sounds like a fabulous idea!” and “Yes, I’d really like that.” It was so lame, but so good.)
Also had a fight with the EH around 4:45. At work. (Big day at work…) He sent a nice, passive-aggressive email about how he’s “out of the loop” for the refi and he’s afraid he’ll be taken advantage of because “nobody is looking out for his best interests.” Then he said, “Don’t get angry.”
Now, that’s just basic psychology – you tell someone “don’t get angry” and what’s the first thing they do? Right – get angry. So I called him up since I was incensed and didn’t want to pound it out over email. I expressed to him the novelty of the situation – it is my loan, after all, and nobody is out to get him, plus he’s getting a nice fat check from it. “Just trust me,” I told him, “don’t make yourself out to be a victim.” Then he threw me something that really pissed me off, and I finally had to be like “I’m at work right now, and I can’t have this conversation.” So I hung up the phone and announced, “Hate you!” which was met by gales of laughter. Evidently, I was not at all quiet, and the “hate you” put everyone within earshot right over the edge. My face was burning – it was deep purple – I didn’t even have to see it to know it, and I was laughing, too, out of sheer embarrassment. When I finally left the office this woman said to me, “We hate him, too.”
Oh, good times.
So I haven’t been blogging for a number of days b/c I’ve been on Puppy Overload. He hasn’t left my side since New Year’s Day. We are having the best time. I didn’t know that a man and a woman could have this kind of close, intimate friendship without getting busy! Honestly – I had two unexpected, long-term relationships start out this way, and I’ve been wondering, “Why doesn’t the Puppy want to fuck me?”
But I don’t want to fuck him, either. I like our intimacy just the way it is. Plus, as I’ve mentioned, he comes with a great deal of baggage and he just turned 29 – on the same day as my wedding anniversary. I’ll turn – gulp – 34 in April.
Anyhoo, we’ve done a lot of talking lately about who we are, what we want from life, and where we hope to get it. And I’ll spare the details but it comes down to this: Portland is back on my radar. He’s going first – his mom lives up there and he’ll stay with her until I find a job. Then I’ll head up there and we’ll get an apartment together downtown.
All his idea.
I have been wanting to move to Portland for the last 13 months, and now it seems like a window has opened to me and a major obstacle - total aloneness - has been eliminated. Not only will I have a friend up there, but it will be someone who's looking out for me – making sure I come home at night and that I have rice milk in the fridge and booze in the pantry.
One of the things we had to clear up, though, was what happened back in September. A person doesn’t tell you “I never want to see you again” and then 3 months later say “leave the state with me and be my roommate” without something major happening in his mind. So last night he invited me over and I was determined to get to the bottom of it. Made a lot of things really clear to both of us, and – hopefully – cemented our friendship to the point where I can put my trust in him.
Wish me luck. The next couple of months are crucial. I need to find a job in Portland – the sooner I’m employed, the sooner I can move…I’ll rent the house in Phoenix. I’ve been looking to make a change for years – marriage or not. In fact, one of the reasons I liked the EH in the first place was because he wanted to leave Phoenix as much as I did (or so I thought). Our plan – as friends – was to get out of town and start over someplace where they had seasons and culture and people who weren’t interested in being as cookie-cutter creepy as they are here.
I can barely grasp that I’m seriously going to attempt such a bold move. With the Pup. My God, life is strange, isn’t it…
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Hey - I moved out here Feb 04 and would be happy to help by suggesting resources & stuff. As far as places to live, try http://portland.craigslist.org. It's the bomb!
Can you suggest any cool downtownish neighborhoods to live in? btw: I heart Craigslist for apts and jobs and such - it's how I found my continental apt here in Phx. But the personals...oof...they scare me a bit. Nice to know that you can HAVE SEX NOW with a CLEAN 40-YEAR-OLD MAN, but then again, not so much.
oh my god, that IS a bold move. wow. all i can say is, i hope i'm invited to the wedding when you the pup decide to get hitched (ya already know i was there the first time and wouldn't miss another one for anything). :)
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