Shut up and don't text him

Just don't do it. Why do you want to feel like an asshole? You are really good at that already. If he wanted to talk to you he would.

Labored conversation trying to hurry up and move passed something isn't going to help. It's only going to make it worse. One more day until I can get this awkward out.

In my head, and in knowing him, it could be a hug or a high five when we see each other face to face. I feel like the hug could be dangerous. Over exposing beaten down feelings.

Like  I want to ask him what's he's doing and maybe get it out of the way before work. I know he would be polite. Regardless. But I need firm established boundaries as a habitual line stepper.

I think he thinks I'm nervous about the job. Not at all, I'm sure that will be no problem and I actually am looking forward to doing something different again.

It's him that is terrifying. Seeing his face for the first time after all the hurt we both displayed. After all the laughter. All the adventures. All the shenanigans. I couldn't even bring myself to go disc golfing after too afraid I would run into him.

His looks etched into my skin and I had seen them all. So when he first looks at me, and he will try to suck it up and be the bigger person, and he is, there will be a hidden look of disappointment underneath his false smile.

I have seen that look too many times before. He has a lot of very good ones too. I'm equally afraid with measure to be caught in those. To not be who I was before when he was attracted to me. Maybe more damaged now. Not being nearly as hot. What if I get a look of disgust? What if he finds me completely repulsive and then I have to go back and wonder why the universe has him in my path again...

More philosophical debates with myself. Years of restructuring. I'm such a hot mess of a person.

The faces I make

I've had an hour of sleep. A lifetime to be a weirdo. Time to tweak out on our adderall because we can't function without it and we're on something like I dunno 4 hours of sleep in the last 72?

My pupils are dilated.

I feel like a retard for yesterday. I really do wish sometimes I could remember what it felt like to be normal.

Although in blogging yesterday I did come to a comparison about Ed/Tom. Very much both the qualities of men I enjoy.

Maybe that's why the Tom thing bothered me so much. I know what it's like to be with  an older man who relishes in life and the same things you do while still being starkly different.

The fineness. The contrast. The imagination. It's limitless. It's bold. 

I need m brain to think of other things today. I need my brain to not sit here and make funny faces at myself in my own reflection to detour from my outline. I need my brain to not make up entire conversations between my cats for them. Although, it is an intriguing part of my day. Seriously.

I have a cat that I got as a kitten, she was a single barn cat some painters found and brought into my job at the time looking for supplies for her. I took her sight unseen. Thought she was a boy and named her Neptune. Funny enough after I brought her home and then we thought she was a girl, she was feral, and not nice unless you were going to feed or hold her, so we changed her name to Melissa. But then and I'm not sure why or how we thought she was a boy again and it went back to Neptune. Didn't ever pay enough attention until two years later she was knocked up.

I have another cat named Herman. Herman was part of a whole litter I ended up with from a pregnant Momma, Now Benga's cat KitKAt. She had five babies, I was already hand feeding 5 other's from two different litters. Then her entire litter ended up with ring worm.The vet tried to convince me to put them down. Telling me shelters wouldn't take them and it's could take forever to get rid of. And it did, I had to buy special shampoo and give them bathes twice a day, and bleach everything in our house all the time. Herman was the first born from his mom and the second I looked at him he looked like a nerd named Herman. At the height of his infection even my Nana was trying to talk me into maybe putting him down. Giant bald spots hiding, rubbed in creams and meds all the time.

I couldn't do it. I eventually found an oral medicine, it cleared up and he was the last one left out of his litter. I had grown pretty attached to the fool.

So Neptune is an indoor/outdoor cat. Everyone is fixed. Herman is strictly inside. Neptune comes in the house to eat and he stalks her. Not hissing or being a jerk, but like he maybe genuinely is never going to give up trying to be her friend no matter how much she dislikes him. And she does dislike him. She hisses and wants to be left alone.

We have a 3 tier glass entertainment stand. She's behind the TV, and he just jumps up on the second shelf right below her, watching her get mad... remaining calm the whole time. I think he knows that hes antagonistic. It's hilarious. Half my day is spent yelling Herman!!! leave her alone!! stop being a jerk! She does not want to be your friend! Stop Following Her!

So as I have no life now, I often narrate the interweaving lives of my cats. As I wrote that I realized I am a crazy cat lady.

This is what I've amounted too. Shit. If I don't hoard them does that take away part of the crazy aspect? I think it should. Well maintained cats. Spoiled. Shifty personalities, the dog gets along with them all.


Officially blogging about my pet life.. This is what kills my time. conversations with myself between a human and a screen and fake conversations and parodies of pets.

And we're all just floating around on a dying rock in the middle of space (not actually the middle though, just metaphorically) in an endless sea of self devotion and ego.

That's the human experience

. 

Where's my ambition? Seriously I think I lost it in the war...

No real writing done today. Still sick. Still Insomnia. I did manage 3 hours in last night so that was nice. I need to go back to the hospital. I start new job on Thursday... should probably be able to breathe to do that.

Thanks to old lover. I'm most certain he would like me to pay him the thousands of doll hairs I owe him, and rightfully so... I mean work/hard work has never scared me.

But I know how different I am now. I know that I've basically been a life hermit for years and I've been pulling my face skin down, pulling the bottoms of my eyes half way down my face, all day trying to get comfortable with the thought of seeing him. I'm such a freak of a human being now.

First of all... years to suck it up and just say I'm sorry. Clearly I have pride issues. That was all I thought it was going to entail. But then he throws out a job offer, making decent money and  not serving people ranch. Possibly get a little manual labor in? Its like getting paid to exercise which is the only way I may do it. But I need to none the less. And it does seem like a cool job anyway. I am a jack of all trades. It's been time for the switch up.

I tried to talk to him a bunch today. I feel like a super creep about it now. I mean I always feel like a fucking creep anyway, but extra more so today. My biggest life problem is I don't talk to other adults much anymore so I don't actually know when to shut the fuck up when I do. Anxiety my best friend everyone. Obsessively think about that.

I almost text him grim statistics. I didn't. I don't think the fact I restrained myself from doing so should be a point of pride for me either? He says it will all be fine. I assured him, after prying into his private life....( fuck me right?) .. and not even casually.. just with a hey, so I know its not any of my business, and I really don't have the right to ask... but are you seeing anyone....

Then the awkward super awkward comes out... Just trying to mentally prepare myself for any scenario... Admitting that through text. Hey glad you're totally cool with all of this, but me... I'm panicking. Seriously... on a one to ten freak out scale ten being the most freaked out... like 100.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Why can't my brain function like regular yo?

I tried to ask if he was going in the same time as me, I was going to bring him breakfast or coffee as a thank you, I think I already spent way too much time making it super odd. I didn't tell him why I was asking and he told me he was going to bed ... bleak. 😖

I wish I had the strength to smash my own face in with a brick right now. I don't know why I cant form real people sentences and thoughts? Why have I alluded this mess for so long and now with a heightened sense of awareness and I overly accosting it?

You know Brain, just shut up. Just shut up brain. He just wants his money back. If I keep it at that than my brain won't try to over produce simulations of possible outcomes of this.

I was insecure before when we dated. His ex wife was hot, I thought I was regular back then. I'm now three years hiding in my house, giving up my cardio sex routine and living like a nerd.

My sexual exploits stay in my head now. Or at least kinda, they stay here on the blog too, but they are fake scenarios made up in my head. I'm sooooo not his type anymore. I'm going to be nervous for the next two days about this.

Telling myself not to text him. Not to keep making a bigger ass out of myself. Stop pulling on your eyelid skin Melissa.

What the fuck is wrong with this guy that he's this nice? Seriously? Oh you apologized t me, throw out my name and get this job setting up areas making nearly $20 an hour..

He's so damn different than anyone.... he's smart, and eccentric, and talented, and funny, and a gentleman, and kind, and he reads... I always liked that he was smart.

My brain needs to not go there. Like stop brain. Please. Stop Brain.

We are so different in so many ways too. He's politically the opposite. Which is extreme for me. Hardcore. He supports trump and his last name alone should be why he doesn't but he does. He's basically a carnivore. Which is odd because he loves nature and animals.

I hate my brain in already attempting to daydream. I wanted to ask how his sister was. I'm sure his family hates me. God it was ugly when we split.

I feel like the incredibly shrinking woman thinking about all of this. So small. Like his kindness should be self serving, and even though that's what my brain wants me to believe, I know that's not who he is. I know he's both tactical and sensitive.

No day dreams. No day dreams. No more messing shit up Melissa. You said you wanted time with you. You basically left Neal and Him, moved to Flint in the middle of a water crisis, busted your ass for months to get out, to move back to Toledo, and then have Benga come along, and give so much of you this shell of a person is all you have left. You got nothing Kid. Nothing!

Melissa, you have philosophical debates with yourself. You sometimes/ most of the time don't even get out of your pajamas. The highlight of your year was going off on two different bosses because you were tired of being a doormat. You jumped out of a plane. You want to see the world. You're writing again. While financially this is a great opportunity,  don't fuck it up by falling in love. You just lost everything because you fell in love. You still have to get shit back before you can lose it again. You haven't recovered those losses. Have yet to recoup.

He doesn't want to work with you because he wants to fall madly in love.

Stop thinking about kissing him now.
Stop it Melissa.
Fuck Brain come on.

You know he doesn't want the same things as you. Yes he has adventure in his heart, he doesn't ever want to be married again. Something he made very clear before. OMG stop you're that far ahead and you haven't looked at him yet. It's crazy. Stop. He's not freaking out. He's not worried. He likely thinks you're fucking mental already.

Dated off and on for two years, and now he knows I'm crazy??.. go fucking figure. The things you can disguise in the midst of desire. I hate that I'm such a freak.

Fuck. 

I'm a little drunk

I's still sick. I called off work today. Hell I only work two days a week and still was sick enough to call of work and as my Nana kindly reminded me I should likely not teach Sunday school in the morning either. Not making kids sick is kinda in my job description. So I walked my ass to the bar. I haven't left my house in four days besides to go to the hospital and pick up prescriptions. So at almost midnight I ventured out.

Fuck it. I needed some air. I need some human contact. I think I may get fired tomorrow, but really my bosses hate me anyway and I only work two days a week. They didn't say anything back today when I sent them my paperwork from the hospital. I'm sure deciding to fire me. I make like less than minimum wage every week.

I like my bosses. I'm sure one of them hates me. I'm not overly concerned about it. I've lived a whole life of people hating me. Fuck.. fake ass Rebecca is there saying all types of shit. I don't care. I'm just me. Take me or leave me. Rebecca having manager numbers is is as funny as it comes. The bitch went to sell her mom's drugs one time and ripped off her mother and kept the cash. And half the drugs. Shes keeping her own husband around just to be able to get out of the welfare ass apartments she's in that she sells drugs to the woman who runs them. Rebecca is always going to be Rebecca.
On a lighter note....

I did kinda meet this hot chic. Lets hope that works out. Her name is River. I like that. Lets hope she runs like one.

Wet Wet. That's the barbarian in me. Like a caveman. or woman. I did try to apologize to Joe. Who also may be the broken link who watched my blog...

And If it is.... Dude I don't even get it.. I'm like so chill. Ridiculously chill. I'm sure people want dollars from your family and shit... that sucks... But with the story I have tmz or some other shit would of paid money. I hate money. It's the root of all evil. And... frankly if I have it i'd rather it be on my my own accord.

So I'm sorry for including you in the drama. I did write you to say that. I'm so awkward it's weird. I promise.... Its in my DNA. I don't really know .... just a weirdo of a woman. Awkward.

You're poor family must think I'm nuts.

I want zero from you. maybe a laugh.. I'm always up for a good conversation... ehhh... I'm just a weird chic. I don't know how else to explain myself. That's all I got.

I really slightly drunk and got the sweetest compliment from a man ever... seriously. Mario... I dated him nearly 10 years ago.  Things didn't work out as he was seeing someone else but we ended on a great note. I held nothing against him. He was tons of fun. Like a lot. Midnight water balloon fights and music for days and weeks, and paint eccentric things together. He just got me. But he was seeing more than me and was given an ultimatum and I never held it against him. He chose her....


And that's okay...  It always had been but it had always been odd between us us too. We have planed trips together.... and I backed out... I didn't really back out my other decided not to watch my kids last minute because I definitely wanted to go. Spelunking with him. He's got adventure in his soul like me. I can appreciate that. He just said the sweetest words to me.

"Yeah you are a quite a loverly visage to behold and yet difficult to discern like a Dali piece"

I'll keep that forever. Reminds me of a meme that said, she never looked beautiful, she looked like art, and art wasn't supposed to be beautiful it was supposed to make you think.

This guy had just always had the kindest soul ever. And in the best way. We drove up to grand rapids one fourth of July together to go to a city wide water balloon fight. He used to drive and I remember midnight water balloon fights.

Even when he decided to stop seeing me, and it was his choice there was never any bad blood between us.

This guy had always been able to make me smile. His character is unrivaled. And he just asked when he could see my new work... He was used to me painting..I asked what work.. He asked writing and such...

He has been keeping up...

Maybe I'm just lying to myself... Maybe it is time for me to get back to the dating world...


And there was nothing wrong between us except he had his options open. And Hes hilarious, and adventurous, and open minded, and loved God, and a gentleman, and fun. Lord knows most men are not fun anymore.

Men.... and dating... and life.. God knows it's complicated. And women... and dating... God knows that's complicated.

While at the bar today a woman staring talking about cows and I gave her a vegan speech.

Well that's fucking interesting

You know I haven't talked about the whole Tom situation in a while. 1) I'm trying to move passed this. 2) Seemed in general to be an all around fucked up situation, only his brother was really nice (Thanks Joe), but again he didn't ask for any of this situation anymore than I did. 3) I don't personally want to be intrinsically stuck in this thoughts of infatuation. While he is an incredibly sexy older man, he would never be with me. He has a whole life. I get it. I have a whole life too.

Me being me though....... judge me if you want... have him blocked on instagram. I sometimes unblock him and just see what hes doing. Maybe once a week or so. I didn't say I was all the way over it, I said I'm trying to move passed it, he is nice to look at?. None the less, regardless of blocked or not when I swipe to my messages, our old ones would still pop up. No big deal just kinda used to seeing them there. And frankly I personally am glad you're able to delete things because I'm pretty sure I got to delete my drunk messages before he read them. Felt like an asshole for sending them anyways.. but thankful none the less.

I swipe to send someone a message today and they were gone. Completely. Which is really weird because I'm almost certain they were just there. Seriously..... Like yesterday or the day before...

I've come to this conclusion....

If you actually read my blog Mr. Tom, while I find you very attractive and think we have a million things in common, then if you read my blog yesterday saying I was reading the code and IP addresses of people looking at my page.... And then you got scared.... thinking I would know you were reading my blog.... 1) I already assumed you did, Because I had you blocked I assumed you were the person looking from the broken instagram link... 2) I wasn't  actually looking for you 3) I was more concerned with my crazy stalker whom started the now very odd (non)relationship between us. 4) The general vicinity of an IP address does nothing for me. And I would hope as a celebrity you would have a two part authorization code for any and everything you do.  4) Did you get me kicked off twitter for my Red Fox joke? Seriously it's a funny joke... your wife is the most expensive whore you'll ever own.

I just got on twitter... like really?

I think if I wanted anything from you I would of already tried to get it. Common sense says that alone.

Also.. hot piercer chic's girlfriend added me on instagram today. That was weird. Seriously people...


Just because I find someone attractive does not mean I have a fucking motive. People can just be attractive people. I'm just an awkward nerd of a girl. I don't have a mean bone in my body... that's a lie, I do, but you have to seriously warrant me being mean to and that takes a hell of a lot, and I would still feel bad afterwards, and say I'm sorry.

I want everyone to be happy and successful. People need more of that in life. People need happy.

I'm sick, I want some vegan chicken noodle soup. I went to the hospital today. I have bronchitis... fucking fun. And miserable....

I wonder who people really think  I am. I'm a recovering nymphomaniac with zero social life. None. My sexual fantasies, while in plenty, are the extent of my life... that and writing. And I'm ridiculously shy in real life. I am limited to 3 word vocabulary when I see attractive people. I'm like a turtle under attack. Who do you people think I am?

Mr. Green, you are odd, and eccentric, smart, sexy, you like a good drink and vinyl, you appreciate black tshirts and checkered vans, or chucks, and you like to read. You create. You look handsome  in your glasses and frankly we could of been friends in another life. You're the too cool for the cool kids guy. It's why everyone likes you.

I am the socially awkward girl. Eye contact makes me nervous as I think it's intimate. I daydream and like to paint, and write. My head stays in the clouds. I got made fun of at my bus stop everyday and even in high school, by the same guys that hit on me after I got out. I wear black thick framed glasses, and when I do I feel like I'm Clark Kent. Incognito. Small circle. Don't date. I work with kids because I'm jealous they live their lives with no fear. They dance like no one is watching.

Hot piercer chic and her girlfriend, I'm glad you two are in love. I was only half serious about my throuple joke. As I wrote that sentence I wondered how much slang I have actually added to my laptop. Jess is hot. You're a very lucky lady. I live by girl code. Big girl code rule is you don't get involved in someone else's relationship. What someone will do to be with you is what they will do when they are with you. Cheaters are not my thing. Not that I think she would in the first place. She did tell me she had a girl the first time she met me. But my recovering sex addict brain doesn't listen to me, it has a mind of it's own.... all the fantasies that come out are things I can't control. I can try to shut them up but frankly it's best to let them run their course. We could all be friends. I'm not trying to steal your girl. I promise.


But just for you wondering the tracking stats for blogger.. this is for the most part what they look like. I can separate them by links clicks and so forth but tracking on the internet is common.... They have IP tracking websites. So for everyone reading this... 1) I think I gave myself malware the other day from grabify I don't suggest using that, I did switch to addthis which doesn't actually track your IP addresses but just better stats than blogger because of bot views.

So I'm like sick

Like actually sick. I have this bad habit of pretending I'm not getting sick before I do. Like I can feel it coming and perhaps if I deny it's there it will disappear. I don't get sick that often. It maybe works sometimes? Not this one.

I blame this on the horrible joke I made earlier in my blog. Saying I'd get that chic sick just to make her soup. I swear it was just a joke Universe. And I'm chugging dayquil now. FML. I'm still super geeked about the feature. And with that comes the will to write more. But with the sick to sleep or not to sleep. I'm on a publishing high. I should rest, and eat soup. I have my tea next to me.

I was in the store buying medicine last night and as I'm looking through all the different bottles confusion set in. I was officially that person talking to myself out loud in the isle and then looking around for a more adulter adult. Like I had serious questions in that moment. One's maybe I should of thought of before. How is this medicine going to fix both my runny nose and my stuffy nose. And my bigger question was how was this even possible. To both simultaneously not be able to breathe and be stuffy but being able to run at the same time.

What medicine should I get? And then the fucked up part..... which color of medicine? You ever notice red, the better of the flavor colors is the mildest. I'm sick enough for the blue. And I go liquid because it works faster. So fucking gross. And rather than write from my outline I drafted which has plenty to do, I'm here, contemplating eating food and blogging.

And I'm a horrible sick person. I want to be babied but watch out if you piss me off. I parked right next to the entrance of the store last night, closest one to the meds. I grab a couple boxes of tea, contemplate medicine and colors for about ten minutes, and self check out. Not one person helping me. I go to walk out and they close that entrance. Are you fucking serious? That's when the douche of a dude is walking up as I'm now angry I can't get out and have to walk all the way around and he's shrugging his shoulders and saying... yeah, sorry.

To which I yell out "'I'M FUCKING SICK THAT'S TOP NOTCH CUSTOMER SERVICE THANKS"

I'm an everyday asshole. I was thinking about way to describe this in my writing and I decided the sentence to best encompass me is this. I'm the kind of girl to give the homeless guy on the corner money and then scream profanities at the car ahead of me for not moving fast enough when the light turns green.

And that's me.

You're allowed to chug from the dayquil bottle every two hours right?


Also as if waking up extra sick wasn't enough, I lost one of my fucking plugs. Which I tried to wrap tape around to tighten the other day and it wouldn't go in. They have fucking flares. I can't walk around with one in and one out. And I was instantly reminded of how pissed I get when I lose them and why I stopped wearing them in the first place.

Fuckers

Also... Because it's hilarious.. I got grounded off twitter. Not for calling the president and idiot on a nearly everyday basis... but because I made an old red fox joke saying your wife is the most expensive whore you'll ever own...

I'm not asking you on a date

So I asked the physics guy to hang out... It wasn't a date. I actually was mostly afraid of doing this thing by myself and I needed his brains. And it's something we discussed. So he's in. Let's hope some time next week I'm multidimensional.

While he's hot he'a kinda flaky. Not really my thing. Clearly I'm nowhere near relationship ready anyways. I made sure to specify I'm not asking you on a date...... Good ol grim Melissa... Just trying to transcend space and time and shit..

I did adult things today. Laundry, cleaning, mowing the yard. While I know I'm not near dating ready, I need to do something to kill my time. I've been looking for jobs in my field and holy fuck does the little pay make me want to blow my brains out. I need dollars and I hate dollars. Why does it not pay nearly enough to do the really important things in life? Mentoring kids. Urban youth being my specialty. I love doing it, but it doesn't pay the bills. I'm looking at jobs and McDonalds would pay more.

I seriously just want be a travel writer at this point. And fuck vacation destinations, I want to go hang gliding from Everest and write about that shit. I need to go back to school just for the credentials... Fuck me. Someone pay me to go places and do crazy shit. I still love kids, but I can write about them too. In other places. I want that life. Following photographers up snowy hills, snowboarding in Russia, Going to Indian or African Elephant sanctuaries. Trekking along side children and explaining their daily struggle to get water. I want to Jump out of planes everyday for the rest of my life. Recycle plastic and make homes in Puerto Rico, rebuild.

I want more than this. My soul is uneasy. I want to bang my face into a brick wall. I don't care I don't have a person to do this with, I'm not afraid to do these things alone. But to get money to do these things I have to settle for below slave wages and maintain responsibilities here. I can't do what I have to do and what I want. And my adult ADHD can't function thinking about spending my whole life working away to try to afford my dreams.

Money does't solve problems, but just today I feel like it would solve mine. I just need enough to do all the above. Or if someone knows someone who's looking for a travel writer with zero experience... I just need my expenses paid. I'll leave everything behind... minus the kids. Maybe sometimes I'll leave them behind too. lol

But my dog comes with. for ground adventures at least. God save the Queen. I need a new good book too. Maybe my brain needs to shut up with someone else's words.