I know, I know...

Yea. It's been forever. Get over it.

I just need to take these few minutes to complain about things that friends are tired of hearing:

• Capt. Optimism
• Food Poisoning
• My own inability to get off my ass and get shit done
• The stories in my head

We'll start with Capt. O. I recognize that he is having some issues of his own right now. His mom is ill and dying and he's the only child... It is hard and impossible for me to imagine what he is going through. However, it doesn't detract from the fact that he is chronically unable to call when he says he is going to or follow through on plans that he makes. Case in point? I was supposed to be camping with him this weekend. Right now we are supposed to be on a lake fishing. Not only did he forget that he made these plans (meanwhile I took the weekend off) but he can't even remember that we made alternate plans to go fishing either today or tomorrow. As I haven't heard from him in a week I'm going to have to guess that we aren't going, but damn it, at least tell me so. Would I be as annoyed if we were sleeping together? Probably not, maybe a little more, but how damn difficult is it to pick up the phone, send a text message, lob a brick through my windows?

And while it is probably a good thing that we didn't go as I'm still recovering from food poisoning I got last tuesday, it still irritates the hell out of me. Of course, that is another thing, how long does it take to recuperate from throwing up for 12 hours off and on? My stomach still doesn't feel right, if I do too much I feel like I'm dizzy and going to start throwing up all over again? Going to the grocery last night was an adventure that I didn't enjoy at all. ( I know it's gross, but that's why I can tell you - no one is actually reading this!) Where do you go for a timetable on being that sick? How long does it last? When will I feel better?

Which leads to getting me off my ass. I don't need to wait for anyone to go fishing with, or to a Triple A baseball game, etc, but I sure as hell don't want to go by myself. What's the point of going to anything like that if you can't share it with someone? I'm not looking for a lifelong committment here, just someone to enjoy myself with. But I'm too scared to do these things by myself. So the ultimate catch 22. I don't want to end up alone with no one in my life to enjoy the little things, but I'm frightened to go out on my own and meet the people I would be hanging out with. So I'm doomed to be alone wishing I was braver. Of course, I might be a little less depressing if I wasn't listening to My Chemical Romance, but the album is really good.

The only thing I have left is the stories I use to fill my head with before I go to sleep, when I'm standing in the shower, when I'm talking to people that bore me at work. I suppose to should start writing them down. I'm not sure why, maybe as an exercise. It will at least keep me away from the mindless crap on television and the refridgerator, but it isn't really easy in the end, is it? If it was easy to write, wouldn't everyone? Isn't everyone doing it know? Perhaps it is easier than I want to realize.

Before I forget. Let's do a little clean up as well. My writing back and forth with Chuckles ended fairly quickly. Did I make amends? Probably not, but not for lack of trying on my part. Capt. Jack however, I'm still out to lunch on that one. We write back and forth every week or so. Nothing truly revealing is given and but it isn't bullshit fluff either. I get the distinct impression he's been writing me when he's a little blue and bombed. A few weeks ago, after several intense emails I offered my number in case he needed someone to talk to. Which apparently was the wrong thing as he launches into this diatribe about how his wife wouldn't like it and blah blah blah. So, of course I hasten to inform him that I was just being support and had no interest in him romantically and respected his wife for everything she's done to keep a relationship together as it isn't really easy to do such a thing. I got one thing about the fact that he's helped keep the marriage stable and then nothing. This has been about a month now. Maybe I'm just inept at keeping friendships together. Is it possible to be a hermit in the middle of a suburb?

Why haven't you tried this shortbread yet?

I have to admit, life just keeps getting weirder. I've been getting ready for a visit from one of the company bigwigs, only to find out that something more important has come up for him, like some dental work or something. I'm not sure, but I can openly admit that I'm cranky I've been worried about it and glad he isn't coming, because I'm not remotely ready.
Combine that with having no talent with money and always being worried that I'm going to be living in a cardboard box (don't ask I'm not sure I can explain it fully as I've never lived in a cardboard box...) so I keep throwing money at bills and trying not to spend money in my real life. Apparently this is where a budget would come in handy, but I never follow the damn thing.
So what happens you ask? Well, in one fell swoop this week, I got a wild hair up my rear and checked my weight. I have hit a new low (or is it high) and have finally touched the 300 mark. So I jumped on my treadmill, and started walking immediately (did I mention this is at 4 in the morning?) and as my treadmill started smoking, I realized I've probably woken the neighbors because my itunes are playing extremely loud so I can hear it over the treadmill. I saw my doc who told me that because i'm a compulsive eater, lap band surgery doesn't make a whole hell of a lot of sense and I get some adderol to help my ADHD and I get to see a nice lady with a couple of degrees so she can help me not eat. Of course, I've called her and she is on vacation and won't be able to see me for a month.
Meanwhile, I got my refund check (owning a house has great benefits by the by), proceeded to pay down credit cards, spend money on myself, including a nice new phone, the rumor by lg, some rings for my fingers because just because I'm actually fat doesn't mean I can't dress pretty, wear nice things or in general be a fabulous person. Bear in mind I don't know how to do some of those things but I'm working on it. So I feel really guilty about spending this money, and not doing something constructive so I took some of the wood I have in the garage for the fireplace, and a hatchet and decided I was going to split some of the wood down a little further. Half an hour later of some pretty good aerobic exercise, my wrist feels like I've sprained it, I've busted some of the brick on my patio and I only got a couple of logs actually worked because I should probably get something a little bigger.
And now I'm trying to get my house refinanced which will make my parents extremely happy and is something I hate to do because it deals with money. Oh well, I gave it to the lady who took care of me the first time. She said that with my good credit (don't ask, I'm not sure how that happened) I could probably lower my payment by about $100, which would be nice. We'll see. I don't think she knows I've been paying extra on the mortgage, so hopefully I can get it lowered a little more.
As for being a grump, you be celibate for two years and let me know how you feel later.
"You need to reread the email Carrie - I pretty much said that you were a gigantic ass who is engaged in colosal self-delusion in the way that you interact with others"- Smartass. I'm assuming you have a point, but I'm ignoring it because it made me laugh.
Other than that life has been running pretty much the same. Although I'm wearing one of my pretty new rings I just got, I still am going to have to work antoher 6 day work week this week, starting today when I go in a 3 p.m. I really need to clean the house a little more, but maybe I'll just go through it a room at a time.

Quick and Easy Cookies

I do have to tell you though, I was talking to my sister earlier and told her to send me a gigolo for my bday coming up, and she said that I should just go to a all male brothel to take out any extra energy. As we got into it, I let her know that I didn't have that kind of money just laying around, and she said I needed to take out a home equity loan. How's a girl supposed to phrase that exactly? "I really need to get some things nailed at the house"? "I've been looking for a good screw, but the screwdrivers I've been using keep failing after so many uses"? I'm sure I have to fill out a form of some kind.... Just not sure what I would say on it.

I cannot even begin to explain the big ass shit eating grin I had on my face when I read your email. I've missed you so much. Losing you and **** (who you may or may not remember, but i was so incredibly close to both of you) at the same time was nearly devastating. Mainly because you were a friend. I talked to you in ways I never spoke with lovers. I figured (and to a small point still do) that if I lose someone that I was sleeping with, then I could say they weren't interested in my body or the way I kissed, etc. If I lose a friend, then it has to do with me. There was something about me that they didn't like, or more to the point, they were rejecting me.
I'm not trying to lay any crap at your door. What happened was the best thing for both of us. I needed to stop leaning on others to get through my life. And I did. I grew up, started thinking with my head instead of whatever feeling was flitting through my body at the time and became someone that, for reasons unknown, others will listen to and do what I tell them to do. Although, to be honest, all of that is slowing killing my soul and I really believe that if I knew how to cook I could almost enjoy that.
Hmmm. How much of a book should I make this?
I, of course, still choose men "below my station in life" (what are they teaching you out there?) because I cannot believe that anyone who has the same brains that I do would want to be near me. Of course, I've also been single (again) for about 3 years. Which is also slowly killing me.
I've been putting in about 60 hours a week at work the last few weeks cause we are short handed, and my boss came in yesterday to walk and talk. One of the things he said is that he wants my assistants to spend time with their families and he wants me to spend time with my cats. I laughed cause there is nothing else to do, but how incredibly depressing is that?
Oh well. I have dated since I got out here, and I even have a Chemistry account, but I don't really like people so I'm thinking finding the person who I'm supposed to be with will be something of an uphill battle. But I'm also working on jumping head first into relationships just cause some guy smiles at me. So I guess it has been a self imposed exile of sorts. Not that I was overwhelming busy before I decided to lay off for a year.
Trust me. I know I have a good life. I co-own a house with a bank and they even let me live here. I've got about $20 worth of equity built up so that makes me feel like I'm going somewhere. I have friends in town and spread out all over the country. When people talk about me, it is generally with a smile and a laugh and that is a good thing. I've traveled out of the country, experienced massive jet lag and fallen asleep in a hotel lobby with strangers all around me. My health, for the most part is good. I've never been skinny, but I'm by no means housebound by weight. I've been nesting though a little here, cooking up a storm for my employees at work; as well as making afghans left and right. I'm still working too much, but I know that at the end of February I can lay off a little.
It sucks that I'm by myself out here for the most part. I have friends, but they are all people I work with and no one I would just drop over to their house and chill. I am terribly lonely. The cats simply don't make for good conversationalists and I'm not sure if I know how to have a normal conversation with anyone. Chalk it all up to getting older in a week or so. When I was younger, I went to see a psychic of sorts. She read my cards and read my stars and said I was going to find my soul mate when I was 34. Every time something fell through I could always fall back on the fact that I was going to meet mine when I was 34. Well, I'm almost done with 34 and I haven't met mine. And I'm not sure I will. If you look at it logically with all the men and women in the world, there isn't always the true love people hope for. Perhaps I'm not meant to meet mine this spin of the wheel.

The quick and easy way

Instead of sitting here and trying to think of the crap I've been doing (which isn't really very interesting) I'll just drop some email in that I've sent out.
S'alright?

I've been in Louisville a little over three years now. I still don't like people so there isn't a lot of nightlife that I go and see. Which would be why I hung out with 4 other ladies who are all over retirement age for Halloween. I had a nice couple glasses of Bailey's while they got bombed on wine. I was kind of worried about them walking to their houses later that night as we hung out until after 11. Not a late night, but since they didn't have to go to work later, and seem to be more active than I have been, I had to turn in early to alternately flog myself for sinking so low and cry in hysterics knowing that was one of the few nights I hang out with people.
Yes. I've come to the very depressing conclusion that I'm a loser. No, don't try and talk me out of it. In fact, I've determined there are levels of loser-dom, and I'm lower that I originally believed. My dorky employees even have girlfriends, all be it they are people they met on some sort of second life gaming platform with avatars, their social life is busier than mine. Top that with several people I haven't talked to in a while, (this really has been the oddest couple of months) are getting married, engaged, or are otherwise happier than I have been in at least a couple of years and have all decided to call me and tell me about it. I considered slitting my wrists, and have even had friends offer advice on the best way to get it done, but seriously, who does that at 34? I guess I'm not really depressed with my life, just disgusted.
Where the hell was I? Oh yeah. Louisville. Moved out here to take the promotion. It's been interesting. Apparently when I first got here I was a Yankee. By the way, that isn't a good thing to be called down here. Now I'm some sort of sick hybrid. I've picked up an accent. It sounds exactly like someone from St. Louis trying to sound like they are from the south. Not very convincing but apparently hilarious to everyone else. The house is about 60 years old. Unfortunately there hasn't been much communication between the dead and myself. My sisters and brothers in law tell me there is a woman upstairs, and I would swear there is a guy in my kitchen, but nothing is confirmed. All I know is the guys hear a woman talking to them when the sleep over and when I decided to take a stand and challenge whomever was living in the house, my clock radio flew at my head later that night. I don't ask questions anymore.