cindy's world

It’s amazing how moods and memories are controlled by music. I can’t listen to any hip hop that came out between mid-2003 and mid-2005 without heavy duty stress and subsequent foul mood, so if this is all the radio’s playing, I have to listen to talk radio or a CD. I love songs that remind me of high school and college. Today, driving home, I popped in a CD that took me back to the beginning of 2003, a time when I felt sexy, empowered and free. I instantly fell back into that mindframe, and the drive back home was absolutely euphoric. I even took a way that I knew would take longer due to road construction, just so I could enjoy the music longer. I need to make a CD of songs that make me want to grind the dance floor.

Things to remember (inspired by a conversation w/a friend earlier):
* guys get interested fast, but they also lose interest fast
* situations that run their course quickly also change quickly as they run out of course
* things will run their natural course whether or not I sweat it

That being said, things to look forward to this weekend:
* this afternoon, with a good friend subbing in as my bailiff
* this evening, hanging at Outback after work
* this Saturday morning, Taiwanese breakfast with my college best friend to catch up on each other’s lives
* this Saturday afternoon, meeting up w/a friend I’ve had since 3rd grade, an 80 minute massage at Burke Williams Day Spa at The Block at Orange, and subsequent hanging out, shopping, eating at The Block
* this Sunday, visiting my parents then meeting up w/my ex roommate/ex personal trainer at my house so he can help me take care of a chore, then we’re going out to dinner

We just had a 10 minute break in our trial, and the defense attorney and I got into a conversation about dating. He told me about a girlfriend he had long ago; the relationship was cut short when she was murdered by her ex-boyfriend. We discussed the mentality of these jealous stalkerish murderous exes.

“The moral of all this, of course, is that men suck,” I concluded matter-of-factly.
“What? Not all men! I have single male friends who are wonderful people,” said the attorney.
“Yeah? Then why are they still single?” I challenged.
“Well, by the same token, I can ask why you’re still single.” Typical attorney talk.
“Because men suck!” It’s a simple concept to me!

…in retrospect, I should’ve gone for the shock value answer. “Because the State of California won’t legalize same-sex marriages!” would’ve been a good choice.

Talk about utter disregard of the advice in my horoscope. I must’ve been drunk last nite. Except I didn’t drink. So maybe I was delirious from lack of sleep? Went to bed Sunday nite (technically Monday morning) at 4am, and last nite (technically this morning) hit the hay at 5am. And yet today, I managed to look semi-decent for work. I was at the Clerk’s Office downstairs earlier writing file requests and a coworker buddy of mine walked over and said, “Hey. You can’t come down here lookin’ all hot like this.”
“Why, what happens?” I asked him.
“You’re a distraction. People can’t get their work done.”
I thanked him for making my day so early in the morning.

Last nite, walking down the hallway, I passed Dodo who was lounging on the floor. “You should be ashamed of yourself,” he meowed at me.
“You wouldn’t feel that way if you weren’t neutered,” I quipped.

You ever felt really practiced in juggling, and then you get out there, start your act with all the confidence required, but as more and more balls are thrown in your loop and the time between moves gets shorter and shorter, you suddenly start panicking and you think, “I can’t do this! What was I thinking?!”

Well, that’s where I am. “What was I thinking?! I’m not ready for this at all! I’m not a juggler by nature!”

Except, let’s make this a bit worse. Let’s say the balls have feelings so that if you drop them, they hurt. In fact, let’s say the balls are tiny little puppies who are counting on you to keep them from hitting the ground and breaking something, and you’re so scared to hear the pained yelp of an injured puppy.

I am.

And now that I’ve written this and then given this post a title, yeah, a better metaphor would be the Chinese saying about how when you’re hungry, you think you can handle more food than you actually can so you over-order and can’t finish it, because it turns out your eyes are bigger than your mouth.

Well, I had a pretty wasted Saturday. I did not one thing productive. In the morning, I talked to my friend who invited me to the Los Angeles b-day party and asked her for details. She knew surprisingly little, and then said she’d call me back. I assumed she was gonna get info and then get back to me. She didn’t call me back until 6 hours later, and by then I had already told my mom that I could not attend my godbro’s bbq (send-off party as he’s leaving for UC Berkeley tomorrow), and then I get the call from my friend, and part-way into the conversation, I said, “Wait. If you’re breaking up w/your boyfriend, is the party for his friend tonite still on?” She said, “Well, it is, they’re still having a party, but we’re not going.” Well, thanks for letting me know.

As for meeting up with Brad and Val after they come back from Disneyland? I knew we were going to eat, so I didn’t eat dinner, just snacked on juice and pumpkin seeds and at 10, decided I had enough time to take a nap (Brad’s ETA was about midnite). True to his word, Brad called my cell phone at a little past 11pm to tell me where they’re going to be at 12a, but I was still asleep and didn’t get the voice mail until 1:45a. ARGH! Stupid PMS making me all lethargic. I didn’t even work out, even tho I’d changed to workout clothes and am even now wearing them.

I got into a spat over the phone with someone, because after I answered his inquiry about the godbro concept (how my godbro came to be my godbro), he laughed and said, “That is soooo lame.” I said, “Are you calling my parents lame? You don’t even know me well enough to make that kind of judgment call about my parents,” and it just snowballed from there. After I called Mike and asked for his perspective (he felt that the comment, altho insensitive, was likely not aimed at my parents) and vented, I felt better, and then I logged into email and saw a cutsie little email the same guy had written me Friday afternoon, and then I felt bad again. Well, if I never hear from him again, I can deal with that.

While I was online, someone I had dated for 6 weeks before I started dating my cheating ex IMed me. I was being pretty aloof to his small talk, as I had already told him that I wasn’t interested in pursuing something again the last time he asked me (a couple weeks ago), but then he asked me if I’m “ever going to hang out” with him again. I answered clearly and bluntly, “Probably not.” He seemed miffed, so I explained that the last time I just needed a friend when I found out my ex cheated on me, I thought he understood that and despite his agreeing when I explicitly asked him not to do anything, he was an octopus.

I’m gonna go into detail about this jaw-droppingly delusional conversation, so if you don’t want to read this, don’t click on the “more.”

(more…)

…or maybe new possibilities.

OMG, I did it. I can’t believe I did it. It’s a low I’d always been actively resistent to sinking to. I’d always said I do not want and do not need to resort to this.

Insomnia is NOT good for me. I am NOT in my right mind. This is why infomercials play in the middle of the night, because the audience is disoriented and not in touch with reality and therefore more gullible and subject to influence. I can’t begin to list all the crap I got suckered into shelling out money for because I was hit up in the middle of the night. I even almost joined the Navy once.

At least this’ll keep me busy for the time being.

…I can’t believe I did it!

If you ever get the chance to listen to George Michael’s rendition of this Bonnie Raitt song, you should. He sings it less country and more soft rock, but the rise and fall of emotions behind his voice and his precisely delayed verbal beat on certain lines makes it so incredibly heart-wrenching.

I CAN’T MAKE YOU LOVE ME – George Michael

Turn down the lights, turn down the bed
Turn down these voices inside my head
Lay down with me, tell me no lies
Just hold me close, don’t patronize
Don’t patronize me

‘Cause I can’t make you love me if you don’t
You can’t make your heart feel something it won’t
Here in the dark in these final hours
I will lay down my heart, and I’ll feel the power
But you won’t, no you won’t
And I can’t make you love me
If you don’t

I’ll close my eyes and then I won’t see
The love you do not feel, when you’re holding me
Morning will come, and I’ll do what’s right
Just give me till then, to give up this fight
And I will give up this fight

And I can’t make you love me if you don’t
You can’t make your heart feel something it won’t
And here in the dark in these final hours
I will lay down my heart and I’ll feel the power
But you won’t, no, you won’t
And I can’t make you love me
If you don’t

Ain’t no use in you trying
It’s no good for me baby without love
All my tears, all these years, everything I believed in
Baby
Oh yeah
Someone’s gonna love me

The Coriolis effect is making me nauseated. Wow. I am seriously bummed. I’m trying to tell myself that this is just the result of my imagination going crazy on me, but what it feels like is too similar to how I felt in the relationship when I sensed that sht was going down involving her. I also know that instead of investing energy into convincing myself it’s not true, the energy should be going into getting me to the point of, “Whether it’s true or not, I don’t care.” I’m not there. Instead, I wanna curl up and cry.

Please, God, please please please let this be over soon. I can’t be hurt by the same thing over and over again. I can’t do it anymore.

I thought a lot about my ex today for some reason. Lots of things reminded me of him, as lots of things normally do, but today I wasn’t able to just push all thoughts away the moment they reared their ugly heads. The result was I spent too much time rethinking things I should’ve said or done, and things that were done to me.

In my boredom driving home, I decided to reach some old contacts, and one friend I called is married to one of my ex’s closest buddies. I originally called her to say hey and ask if she and her hubby (the only friend of the ex’s whom I’m still very fond of) still had my Lord of the Ring DVDs. But as the phone rang, I suddenly had the sick feeling that she may know something about my ex’s current situation and casually tell me. I became horrified and hoped desperately that she wouldn’t pick up the ph0ne, and yet I was unable to hang up. As the ringing continued, I thought about how I’d feel if I found out the ex indeed got together with the student he cheated on me with. I would, even now, be absolutely devastated. It would feel like all the talk and the convincing he had given me about how he no longer has feelings for her, that she was just a weird phase, that he loves only me, that he never loved her, that he has no interest in even pursuing a friendship with her any longer, that there’s no future between him and her, that she’s far from perfect, that he hated her for being the reason our relationship destructed, that he hated himself for destroying our relationship for nothing and she was the nothing, that he was so mad at her for contacting me and telling me things about them that he wanted to go kill her, that he couldn’t be with anybody or love anybody for a long time, if ever again…it would feel like all of that, and the measure of comfort believing those things gave me, would be all lies. It would feel like I made him a better person so that he could give it away to the most undeserving of people, the most hurtful person he could get together with where I’m concerned. But that’s already happened once. I bought all the stuff he said before, too, about how insignificant she is to him and how “she’s not a threat to” me, only to find out that it was all untrue, and he had bled me for her. Repeatedly. Until I had literally almost reached death three times. It hit me today why I was so passionate about the Jennifer Aniston/Brad Pitt split. I had already a very severe distaste for angelina jolie, and I was a huge, HUGE fan of Aniston’s (I’m indifferent toward Pitt), so when crap was rumored and Aniston filed for divorce papers, I understood exactly where she was coming from. And after she moved out despite Pitt’s continued attempts to convince her nothing was going on between him and jolie, and now the relationship between Pitt and jolie has hit mainstream news and people can’t understand why Aniston is devastated and hurt because after all, she’s the one who wanted the divorce and moved out, I understood that perfectly, too. It’s because in spite of all her gut feeling that something is seriously wrong, a part of her heart still clung desperately to the belief that her husband did not lie to her, that despite feelings for another woman (who wanted to be a MORTICIAN and took embalming classes and instead of exchangnig wedding rings w/her last husband, exchanged vials of each other’s blood which they wore around their necks), he did not betray her and he would not get together with a woman whose existence destroyed his marriage.

Yeah, everything goes back to “Friends.” Speaking of friends, thank God the friend never picked up her cell. I didn’t leave a voice mail.