The Calm

Seasons are changing and it's getting warmer out. I've purchased a new phone and have downgraded to a simple phone. I think it's a simple phone, but we're doing it to downgrade the price of an iPhone.

Then there is the changing of the jobs. I'm applying to things and certain funds are ending. There are things that have been said and the future rests on these choice words. The future rests on so much and it looks slightly grimmmm at times.

I have been feeling mad at times. I am swallowing my pride these days and sorting paper. Sorting paper. Sorting paper. Always with the sorting of the paper. Where once was a time that I felt dreams were possible. They still are, but I can't figure the simpler things out.

My boyfriend is silent most times. I am not sure what is on his mind and that makes me anxious. His thoughts are deep and quiet. Time is moving in a strange pacing and I just don't know what to think. I'm trying to get used to this silence, especially since it's so far into this relationship. Silence does not equal bad things. . . I think.

My boyfriend's birthday is today.

This is what I intend to say in his card:

Happy 40th Birthday! We've only been together for a short time and I know I will never fully understand the life you had before 40.
That aside, I would be honored to spend time with you in the next 40 years of your life. The time that I've spent with you has been a very happy time for me.
You are smart and I find you incredibly attractive, even aside from that I find your active personality incredibly amazing and I still am trying to figure it out.

I am still trying to figure out exactly what love is, and it's a word that people weigh a lot of mental energy into,but I know that what I have been feeling lately when I think about you is probably very close to what "loving" someone must feel like. I just don't know if I wanna give that feeling a finite definition right now, because what I feel for you can't be explained with words. Happy birthday, wolf.

xoxo
E.iguana

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!

Energies

I'm filled with positive thoughts and energies. Today while I was sorting my paper there was a rush of panic because the paper that we sort had run out. Someone told the story of how the last temp job he was on at this company that ran out. They just dismissed everyone and kept two of them. The worst of stories you can tell to a temp.

A general panic began in the room. Then people began to get calls from the temp agency offering them other jobs. It seemed strange, but then the people who weren't getting calls began to get more nervous. By lunch time tension was high and people were ready to kill each other.

I got a call from the job I applied to in October and apparently they are finally ready to hire me. There was a protocol that they had to follow. I begin to now see that this whole wait may have been planned. To cheat a system, it takes time.

Given to all the tension today. From just sorting papers (or lack thereof) I was relieved to hear that all that waiting had not been for naught. Until I am sitting behind a desk and getting a pay check, I will not believe anything I hear. My response went something like this. . .

Gay Assistant: Are you still interested in the position.
E.Iguana: Did you watch the state of the union address? Of course I would like it . . .

My Mother's Tears

I called to simply ask her to fax a letter for me. Conversations with my mother could be a two person play, and I've often thought about writing down my mother. My mother's simplicity and her undying love for me is a character study. My relationship with her always takes a reverse turn when she breaks into tears over such simple matters. Yet, that were never apparent to me while I lived at home.

The issue is bitchy and simple: My aunt made a comment about my sister's "Spider bite" piercings. . . on her 16th Birthday. She said, "I can't even look at you." Turned away and handed her an envelope with money. Majorly c*unty though and worthy of my mom's tears.

Now that I never partake in the drama of this household. I can listen and I encourage her to speak out. I get my sensitivity from her and I would probably begin crying in the same situation. I like to believe I have grown stronger and with a little tougher of a skin. I've seen both sides now.

The unfortunate part of all this is this was the aunt my mother felt she had a close relationship with. The aunt who comes down and takes me to Broadway shows and I go to dinner with her and her friend. I listen as they take at each other about their children. What their kids do. Never really having a conversation, but topping the next statement. I sit and drink wine and enjoy the free meal. Sometimes I throw out random words, but mostly I eat the bread and sip the wine.

So my mother feels betrayed. I

Crock Pot

I didn't go into work today because I wasn't feeling well when I awoke. Last night we went bowling and The Construction Worker revealed that he was in some major leagues when he was in high school. He bowled a 222 to my 99. He could do that spin on the ball and make himself get strikes. I believe that he's some kind of wizard.

I awoke this morning, later in the day because I felt so groggy at 6 AM. I began cooking a pork shoulder, because I intend to make Pulled Pork Sandwiches. I also made some brownies, as well as homemade coleslaw. The onion rings will go into the oven and I'll ring the bell when the food is ready. You know it takes a while to make that pork shoulder tender.

I will return to work tomorrow, because one must work. One must. The day of cooking was a domestic purge and incredibly fun. I like making food, but in a Martha Stewart kind of way. Not in a job sense. I just feel like I need to keep house.

The kitten has his adulthood and begun to hump things. I relate the feelings I have with Bumble, as a mother must feel with a child. I want to love him, but he terrifies me. Now he's a man, only six months after I've taken him in.