Round and Round. in Open Diary 2001-2018 (Pre-Prosebox)

My loft, my home, the place I’ve fallen in love with, is going condo. Now, this is no surprise to me. That’s the reason I moved in here. I loved this unit the second I saw it, and wanted to buy it immediately. But the current owners had to work some things out (expiring tax breaks for historic buildings, etc.). And now it’s time.

Before I moved in here, I’d met with the owners who told me all kind of great things about this place, and I was so excited at the thought of buying it for what I considered a steal. Of course, the owners have done quite a bit of rethinking since May (when the conversations began), and the place is not such a steal anymore.

Especially my particular unit. I know I have the best unit in this building as far as views and lighting and unique spaces go (damn, I need to post photos!), and they apparently think so too…the price is almost double what I was expecting to pay!

Does this sound familiar? This is what I went through with the last place. It just makes my heart sick to think that I am going to have to spend so much $$$$$ in a city that’s supposed to have such an amazingly low cost of living (specifically in regards to housing). It really makes me wonder if I should start looking around again.

Honestly, I’d rather get a new job and move to a completely new city before I’d want to move down the street to yet another space.

Perhaps that’s what I’m going to have to do. Make a big decision, I mean. Get the hell out of here? Or suck it up and buy with the thought of being here for at least a few more years. This is going to require a bit more thought. Should I stay or should I go? Here we go again.

Had several blasts from the past this week. Could it just be that time of the year—when everyone gets sentimental or something?

Super T. sent me an e-mail. That’s right, after not hearing from him since last Christmas when we spent that wonderful couple of days together—and then never talked to me again. Out of the blue pops an e-mail. Short and sweet…just wondering what was going on in my life.

I couldn’t figure out what he meant by it, so I replied the next day, telling him that I’m still traveling a lot and things are mostly the same….and then cautiously asked him what was going on in his world.

It was strange. I think he was just lonely or bored or something. Because his reply was all the same old crap. What the hell? What made him send me a note? Nothing has changed with him. And he certainly didn’t ask to see me or anything. Even when I told him I was coming to town next week. Whatever. Fucker. I’m too busy to waste my time on pleasantries with him if it doesn’t lead to anything. Can you believe that I actually got excited thinking that maybe he actually wanted to see me next week? Can you believe that I actually would have dropped everything else to see him after not hearing a peep from him in a year? Please tell me what’s wrong with me.

I also heard from Separated Creative Director Guy this week too. He sent me a d-mail (as in drunk-mail) from Nashville (he travels more than I do!). It was actually quite charming and made me kinda want to see him again next time he’s in town. I hope he’s getting his personal shit together, but I have a feeling that he uses his travel as an avoidance technique and a way to stay in somewhat of a fantasyland. He keeps telling me how cool he thinks I am and that I really belong in a bigger city where I can shine a little more. I’m flattered, but leery that he might be blowing smoke.

And then there’s Q. After a fun date last weekend, he blew me off yet again this week. I’m at the point where I think he’s doing this on purpose to piss me off. Subconsciously or not, I think he wants to hurt me to the point of being so mad at him that I’ll get over whatever this infatuation is. It’s working. Finally. Thankfully.

Someone please tell me truthfully, am I headed down the pathway of a lonely, bitter old woman? It sure feels like it sometimes.

In complete contrast, I went to an engagement party last night. Jen 3 (from work, not Jen 1, who is a really good friend, not Jen 2, who used to be a pretty good bud, but the Jen I traveled to Europe with on a business trip about a year ago) is getting married. It’s funny because I remember sitting in a bar at Heathrow Airport with her, drinking wine, and talking about how she was never, ever going to meet someone in this particular town. And here it is, a little more than a year later and she’s tying the knot rather quickly.

He seems like an okay guy. She seems quite happy.

I’d say good for her, but I went out with ex-nabe Julie afterwards and she knows the guy that Jen 3 is marrying. The sad thing is that Julie had nothing good to say about him. She said he is a major player/cheater and blah, blah, blah. Stuff that’s really none of my business but that secretly eased my pangs of jealousy.

Ugh. I feel like the biggest shitheel for writing that just now. But I can’t fucking help it.

I’m sure my karma’s all out of whack anyway for blowing off Marc and Michael (my last two Rate-a-Dates). Both nice guys, but both don’t quite scratch that itch for me, if you know what I mean.

Am I doomed to a life of unrequited crushes and jealousy and city hopping? Stay tuned, I guess.

I better go. I haven’t done anything yet today and my beautiful Saturday is wasting away.