It All Catches Up in Open Diary 2001-2018 (Pre-Prosebox)

Finally. The end of a pretty fucked up week. I don’t know why I haven’t been writing very much lately. Maybe I’m just afraid of what’s going to come out or something. I seem to have a shitty way with words lately.

I was sick last night. I think it was really that the hangover(s) finally caught up with me. Was out drinking three nights last week, and I never let myself really rest between any of it, so it must’ve crept up when I let down my defenses yesterday.

So LDL caught me in the middle of my blah state last night. I answered the phone and almost immediately started crying. What’s wrong with me? I was just craving some sympathy and attention. And even though he’s what…1000 miles away? It made me feel just a little bit better to get it all out. Especially when he was telling me that if we were together he’d take care of me and wrap me in blankets and rub my feet and rub my tummy and make sure I was okay. Sometimes that stuff makes me want to run back into his arms. Sometimes I seriously think about it.

I ignored the phone the rest of the night. A pseudo-friend came in to town at the last minute and wanted to go out. I say he’s “pseudo” because he’s really a friend of Lovely Leah’s, but I’ve hung out with him a few times before in Dallas. I don’t really like him that much, but Lovely digs his chili. He’s in a bad marriage and I wish he would just shit or get off the pot when it comes to that. He’s completely flirtatious and handsy, and there was no way I was ever going to be able to deal with it last night…especially not a last-minute deal. He called me about six times. Dude. Catch a clue.

Oh! And speaking of catching a clue, remember Scott from a long time ago? Of course you don’t. Because he’d pretty much disappeared after we’d gone out and fucked around a couple of times. I’m fairly certain that he’d started dating someone else or something. And I’m guessing that it didn’t work out, because he started calling me again. Calling and calling and calling. He called me five times on Friday night. Like, in the middle of the night. As if I was going to invite him over at 3AM and do him after not even hearing from him for months. I’m not sure who these fuckers think they are.

And then. There’s Q. I finally returned his tape recorder when he asked me if I wanted to go to Costco (of all things!) with him yesterday. Now people. I like him. I really do. But fuck. I’ve let him walk, stomp, and wipe his dirty paws all over me these last few months. Why do I continue to let him do that? It’s humiliating and embarrassing, and yet, I find myself happily driving to his place the minute he calls and asks if I want to take him somewhere. But what really stung this time is the little rant I let him unburden as I was dropping him off. It was all about his ex-girlfriend and how much she teases him and acts like she wants him back. What am I supposed to do with that? What will it take?

I’m tired. I’m weary. I’m very disappointed in myself.

Still…a faint glimmer:

I don’t yet want to get into how things are going with Marc until later. We had a great dinner on Thursday night (except for the part where I choked on my salad, but that’s another story for another time), and it looks like I’ll be seeing him on Tuesday night as well. After all these he’s just not that into you men, it looks like Marc might possibly be into me. I say that with caution, but here’s the thing: he calls when he says he will, he asks me out on real dates, he makes time to see me and call me…even though he’s incredibly busy, he’s nice and polite and has his shit completely together, and I’m really anxious to get to know more about him.

I’m skeptical, but oh so curious.

Other shit:

Time to switch out the closets, lovelies! Looks like autumn has finally arrived (actually, I should’ve done it a couple of weeks ago, but whatever)! I’m about ¾ switched. Now I just have to find a place for all those freakin sweaters! I love sweaters. It’s obvious because I have about three thousand of them. It’s disgusting.

And I managed to get some of the last few boxes from the move out of the way. Finally! It’s beginning to look like a really cool place here, and people are starting to bug me about having a party or at least having a small group over. I’m going to have to bite the bullet and have a soiree or some sort. I want to do a birthday thing or something without anyone knowing it’s my birthday (I turn [gasp] thirty-SEVEN on the 26th!!).

I’m so not looking forward to going back to work tomorrow. I feel like I haven’t had a chance to rest enough…even though I didn’t do anything last night…or pretty much today either, for that matter. Oh my gosh, I just remembered. I have an entertainment marketing company coming in from Chicago tomorrow. I met these funny guys at one of the bars in LaGuardia Airport during my last trip to NY. They bought Kathy and me beers and we laughed and joked about tons of crap while we waited for our flights. Long story short, we have some business in common, and I set up a meeting with our marketing director for tomorrow. Then they want to take us out. That means I need to get rid of this hangover before tomorrow! I just hate the fact that a night of drinking takes several days to get over now. But I think that one of the guys is cute. And it all eventually boils down to that with me, doesn’t it? I’m disgusting.

Speaking of disgusting, I still haven’t heard from my good friend Manuel in Mexico yet. He’s the guy I sent that horrible e-mail to by mistake last week. I guess no news is good news at this point. I’m keeping fingers and toes crossed that he has no clue.

Okay. Enough of this boring drivel. I’m going to go try to find a home for all of those sweaters, have some steaming tea, and then curl up under my blankies and hope that nobody calls.