Love Blah

The past-time of looking up ex's and stalking them on social media was talked about at work. Though at the moment it seemed painfully clear, just don't. I was smart enough to bite my tongue remembering, it isn't an easy temptation to avoid. Secretly I held my head high and thought to myself, thank God I don't have an ex I feel compelled to stalk on the internet. Mostly because for years no one has wanted me or as of late I have been compelled to live a spinsters life. Then I get home and think to myself , who, who from my dating past would I want to look up? Oh stop living in denial, just three weeks ago you were looking up J for an email address and a few days ago I wanted to know how Loser B turned out. But I have been a very good little girl and it's been years since I've looked up E, which had in the past become a borderline obsession, but what about Bastard the third? I have mildly stalked, nothing over the top though. Phew, I'm normal and no longer need to dwell on the subject.

And like a true insomniac moments after my head hitting the pillow in protest to sleep. I pop up grab my kindle and feverishly I start looking up J and then I move onto E and no need to look up B as days ago I found, he actually got his shit together. He is now responsible for a tiny human and learned how to run a comb through his hair, Oh! and is that button up collard shirt underneath a sweater? Cheers mate, can't be mad at ya. At the end of my "research" the closure I was so seeking and needing, I finally got. It would be unorthodox to use people smart, people search, intelius... etc to get rid of you're issues. It probably isn't for everyone, but it's a lot cheaper than a therapist. I have finally exorcised the boyfriends of Andria's past. You know the nagging part of me that thought every waking day they thought about me and the missed opportunity of ever having a girl like me. Well turns out I am as forgettable as I seem and there's a reason why things don't work out. Lesson learned never chase anything that was never meant to be. Never dream a failed never to exists love will magically come to be. That shit only exist in movies.

During my research I found out whatever they wanted from a significant other they wouldn't find in me. I'm not the white picket fence child bearing type. I like my freedom, my whelm to do whatever I want. To not express concern to things I don't care about or to fell the need to have all of my waking days filled with only one certain person. I want to go out and party with just my friends or meet new people and not have to answer to someone. To sleep past noon. I like to be concerned about what im wearing. To spend my money irresponsibly on skinny jeans, not ill-fitted mom jeans. Hey, if that's you're cup of tea that's you're cup tea and congrats in finding it. I am a irresponsible responsible adult and I don't find myself changing that anytime soon. As I have found what I actually want to do and get from my life I have come to realize what I want from a boyfriend isn't from the past, thank god! In my heart of hearts I will believe there is someone in the future for me, as peculiar and particular as I am eventually I will be with the one I'm suppose to be with, possibly...maybe

This is my issh

How does one share their personal life. I think it's worth mentioning in this blog, it is practically about my life. Why not share my abilities at missing signals, misinterpeting signals that were never there and always late realizing that there were signals? So here is a brief history of my non - existent love life.

The difficulties with men started probably in elementry school  with a boy, color scented markers, and a flying paper airplane, but who has that kind of time to go back that far. Lets leave that to a pyschiatrist. The past decade, lets start there. It makes for sweet short story of complications and the major slump I can't seem to get myself out of.

A thing to know about me I like to feel guarded at all times. I never fully let my true emotions show. You should always just bury certain feelings really deep down under the surface. And you stuff it down deep hoping he'll make the first move. When that doesn't happen you  reveal those feelings at the most critical of times so that you look like a complete crazy stalking fool. I can't seem to bring my tortured feelings up for a guy unless he finally moves thousands of miles away or he has given up and moved on to find him a normal girl. On a night many years ago, after not being able to sleep I muster up a sleep deprived courage to send one gruesome pathetic email to... let's call him Dr. C. I knew after hitting send the feelings wouldn't be mutual. I think it was about expelling the truth so that I could move on. I could have cared less what his feelings were. I did it I can move on. So I thought then I get the responding email. The only clear part is he had a girlfriend at the time.

So that's that, we're just friends, cool? right? However my little brain can't leave it at that. It was how it was said and the winking smiley face. My little brain eventually managed to move on or can I say back to his friend a former bandmate and that turned about to be a crackhouse mess of a decision. In the end he put it like this " I have two jobs and a girlfriend I barely even have time for my friends." Bam, not even considered a friend. In hindsight I might have been a bit of a phone stalkerish and didn't handle the non friend gesture politely. I did however try to see if maybe we could mend and truly be friends and as of that how things are now is all on him. It seems that is impossible gesture for him to even respond to leaving me slightly angry with bitter resentment and I might have carried that hatred and resentment of him (Mr. Prick) on Dr C who didn't do anything to deserve that. Currently I hate on Mr Prick mostly ignore Dr. C and on ocasion I get it on with ever faithful Loyal D. For the most part everything is perfect, except that I'm bored. It's not happily ever after or perfect, but it works. Sure I would like a boyfriend. I don't make a great of girlfriend. Then Dr. C goes and do this:

Made me smile...hope all is
attached :
 

 What? no why? he still has the framed anatomy page I gave him from years ago. What does this mean, yes he recently graduated and maybe it's a hey thanks for the encouragement I did it, but when in our brief history has he ever sent a quick message on his on recognizance? Never.. ok maybe one time a Birthday e-card, so it could probably mean nothing. It's usually me that initates the contact and half the time I don't get a response. And of course there was a winky face making it's appearance in the subject line. If it's strictly platonic keep the winky faces at a minum of none. Because otherwise you're flirting or you'll become that creepy old guy that winks at every girl. Weeks later I've decided it meant nothing. However fool me once yada yada. I'm not falling for it anymore. Love ya, wish him the best, but a girls gotta move on. This year I won't be a spaz and try not to fall into my ruiner of love ways. I could even not be guarded and be true with my feelings with friends, family and loved ones. Maybe I really do want a real true actual boyfriend , well see how it goes.

People Are Strange

I usually don't talk to a lot of people at my paper pushing job. Partly because deep down inside I don't like people, partly I don't want to talk to half the people I work with, partly I could careless if I'm talking to people and having to listen to what they have to say. However I get to observe people while  at work.

And there is just this one motherfucker, that all I can say is, what is the deal, is this working for you? First I'm apparently older than this guy yet he looks way older than I am. It doesn't help either that he acts like most of my Dad's older male cousins that I remember when I was younger. I know most people don't look as young as I do for my age and even someone  younger can look older than me. I get it, it's mostly good genes. I like to think that I kind of do some work to keep myself healthy and not rapidly aging so fast. Truth is, it's easy to look young when you're not a chain smoker and can limit your alcohol intake. Yet this dude wears clothes three times his size. Which could be easy since I think he barely weighs 100 pounds and he's not even my height. Then the do rag he has to wear until he gets into work, only because it isn't permitted, otherwise I think he would wear that ridiculous thing all day 24/7. The other day I caught him wearing his pants almost by his ankles and the only reason he got away with it is because he had that long undershirt tucked in, you know so not as to disrespectfully show of his underwear to the world and then a longer shirt over that. He may not be as old as me, but he's still in his 30's. Clearly by the way he's dressed he is quite the gentleman. If that means every night at the end of the shift he tries to cut inline so that he can quickly go outside to wait for his ride to pick him up. Then yes, a gentleman indeed.

It wouldn't be surprising to know that he has mostly annoyed the women here and who only interact with for entertainment purposes or they are at that same level. And I'm really open to different styles that people express themselves with. 

I just don't understand how people get stuck and dress as the would at high school and never move on to a more sophisticated age appropriate dress. Cause there's nothing that makes you more dated and aged then to just keep on being who you are in high school. There's a part of ourselves that tend to evolve or strive for maturity as we learn life's lessons. Oh well all I can say is . . .

Class Act

You're taking a leisurely walk or sitting at your desk and then...YOU run your hand through your hair feeling something funny and that's odd, you don't remember putting a bobby pin in your hair. Now this foreign object is in your hand and you can't make out what it is. So now it's this panic of mystery and uncertainity. What is this in my hair, is it a leaf, a dried piece of flower, a seed of some kind or worse.....the dead carcass of a bug or worse a live carcass of a bug, maybe bird shit? Now depending on the situation and may be able to quickly discard it on the sly hoping no one sees you ditch something after running your fingers through your hair and be on your merrily way, maybe run you fingers through again just to make sure there isn't anymore. But then you might think to yourself  as you get rid of it, did anyone see it in my hair? How long has it been  in my hair? Is there more than one? Did they start multiplying? And if someone saw something in my hair, why didn't they say anything preventing further colonization in you hair.  Cause if they seen it do they just think that you never wash your hair allowing unimaginable things to grow in it. Now if you're are not situation number one. You might want to take a look before you toss it. You might take a quick look to make sure no one has saw you discover something in you're that shouldn't be there. But do you dare after the freak out, to look at it, to actually find out what it is. What if it is a bug, a living bug in you're hair all day, with maybe others that you haven't discovered yet, creating a family and putting up real estate. So you look and squint and then finally release your breath, ohh it's just a balled up little dried leaf. And this is what happened from my walk to my car from work.

Drummmers

You know that part when the drums go bam bam bam bam bam with tic-tic-tic-tic and it's hard and short and intense. Just makes me want to just take my panties off. And that is why it's never safe for me to be around drummers. Never.. safe.  Here's a Two Door Cinema Club song to express that drum beat I'm talking about.


Two Door Cinema Club
Sleep Alone

Comfortable Shoes--July 25

You Know --
You know when, you break up with a guy and you're all devasted and don't understand why? But hoping to still be friends and you end up never seeing each other again despite your best efforts. Finally having months or years apart you reach that moment of clarity and you say to yourself what ya know he was a dick. Had me thinking it was me?! Damn shame I wasted all that time on a prick thinking he was worth something.  Now is there anyway to share this clarity with said dick without appearing bitter?

Comfortable Shoes-- July 19

So you are probably wondering why call my blog dairy Comfortable Shoes. Well after years of receptionist to desk job to salon receptionist to desk job to salon receptionist. Floating in a ebb of mindless unappreciated work. I grew found of heels and in a sitting all damn day positions heels are perfect. Heels made me feel beautiful, heels got me attention. Now I'm not going to say that all heels are comfortable, some more than others yes. However  comfortable shoes come in array of different flavors and what can be deemed as comfortable can actually be uncomfortable. Like my currently worn 15 dollar ballet flats from Target. They look comfortable but that's about it because Target doesn't know what a size 10 ballet flat is and so I have once again had to get a size 10 because the size 11 barely stays on my fit, but none the lesson learned no more buying ballet flats from Target not matter how adorable.

As I was saying, heels became my go to girls and when I finally got the dream job I've always wanted,  well wait... partial dream job of working at an art museum I quickly learned the definition of comfortable shoe for this job and heels was not one of them at least not for standing up  7 hours a day on white oak floors and Italian marble. No shoe will ever be comfortable for that but I learned to have to beauty over function.

But it also works as a metaphor always grasping for that comfortable shoe and not quite getting it. So in the end I grab a shoe hoping it will be the comfort I seek for 7 hours of hard floors and most of the time they just don't live up to the hype. I mean I even bought crocs  ballet flats. Me wearing crocs? granted they don't look like Crocs but yeah crocs??? All I know is I miss my heels.