A Chilled Glass

Another Thursday done. The snow has begun to fall again. This time in a much harder and wet form than the previous time. Slush is forming and this snow is chilled cold, like the glass of the Stoli-Razz and Soda I am currently drinking.

I've decided that on March 1st, I resume looking for jobs. I took the time sorting paper and after about two months, I am pretty much through and at least curious to look for other jobs. I will continue sorting paper because I know it's regular and workable. As the months become warmer I will humor myself by applying to dresser jobs. I have nothing to lose, except my graces as a gentleman.

I've swallowed so much cynicism that it's make me so sour sometimes. It's all going pretty well right now, the sorting paper job I can stick with. I just know I'm better than what is being done. I'm not a fool, but after doing a job such as that for any length of time. You begin to feel like this is all you can do. So simple and mind numbing. Yet it's a Recession, which rhymes with Depression and the government thinks letters can hide the true facts at hand. I shouldn't be greedy, times are rough and this may be the best you can get for now.

I've been watching this show called Battlestar Galactica. It's funny how addictive it is. It's a sci-fi drama to a great extent. I'm absolutely in love. It's tragic and amazing.

Human Moment

Tonight I had a human moment. With a friend who I have known for years, but never sat next to and really talked to. He gave advice and told me about his family life. I understood him for who he was in that moment. It touched me and felt very good and honest. Two people sharing their lives.

Leaving the party was family like too. Kissing everyone goodbye on the cheek. It was sweet and touching. It made me feel warm. I also got a warm feeling when I made it home in record time. Only 8 minutes after midnight. I left the apartment early because I was feeling good in my soul. I wanted to quit while I was ahead.

With All the Dramatic it Deserves. . .

We were drunk. As sometimes is the case and it was Valentine's Day and possibly our 6 month anniversary. I'm not one to make drama about a day that is pointless and unnecessary. But as a couple I gave him a box of chocolates. In return we drank at the local bar and I saw him put his hand down some slut's pants.

We were drunk. I feel like a 1950s housewife making excuses up for my husband. He works so hard, so what if he likes a few cocktails after dinner? He deserves them. Well we know I am not a housewife and nor is this the 50s. There is more to this story that needs to be told.

The boy was a previous hookup and he was drunk [see there I go again]. I saw it from across the room and I simply shook my head at him. In his drunken stupor he defended his point. The scene quickly shifted to the 2000s and I was in a scene from Jersey Shore.

The night quickly took a nosedive as I became the aggressor and proclaimed the day was done. The people in our party disbanded and The Construction Worker passed out in my bed. At 9 PM.

I sat on the couch at 9:30 wondering. What are the memories I have from this night. I called a good friend and told him the situation. As girls do his advice was excellent, but I fitted it to meet my particular situation. The next day I would discuss this indiscretion and as I figured he had no recollection of the night.

This gives me an upper hand in the scene. If I were a vile person I could manipulate the situation as I see fit. "You did this. . ." and "I saw this . . ."As much as I am a vile person, I care about The Construction Worker more than anyone I can remember. I would never mix up the stories to fit my benefit. Also, I had a pretty good landing to begin with. I told him of his actions and words. How I was finally really beginning to believe that I can trust him and he goes and pulls a silly stunt like that.

He apologized, which was all he could do in the moment and I got what I came for. An apology. There was uncertainty in the air after our first fight. Six months in and this is the first and it really was not a fight. That's good odds. Regardless we all felt off. Granted there was no drinking going on. So perhaps the boring parts of the play are now. Or perhaps the most human moments were then.

He cuddled me and was held. I felt him holding me and thought about other occasions where drama erupts and how I react. The simple word is to "flee". I'd fled so many relationships, some people wonder if I ever really existed at all. Well fuckers, I do! This one though, I feel no need to flee. I want to work on these little issues and dwell on them. Knowing they are manageable, if not dramatic at times. We spoke softly and calmly. I hate yelling so I rarely break into it, but there could've been cause for it in later years when more falls apart. This is just a step right now. I told him what I wanted and in the future if your hands need to go down someones pants. Justifiably so they should be mine. . .

Moral.

This Is What. . .

This must be what love is.

Since Last I Had Written

I rechecked my last entry to realize how much has and has not happened. That job cannot be playing me. It's been over a week and I've heard nothing since they promised me the position was mine again. I am glad I invested no worry into it. No, none whatsoever.

Then the Construction Worker's stalker has returned. Yes. That very day of my good news we went to the local bar and who was sitting there. Oh the psychological thriller that began in my head was enough to baffle anyone. Someday I may write a play based on the night that went on.

The stalker moved closer down the bar until finally he became part of our group. I kissed the worker on the lips in front of the stalker. An act of drunken courage and lack of thought. The Construction Worker had a soliloquy about his misfortune in finding a stalker. "How does one realize the person they get involved with will stalk them." True, so true.

I agreed to do a Five-Borough Bike Tour with my Brother on May 6th. I need to find a better bike by then. Mission go!