my dear old love

When you are the last person I see before ending my evening, it allows me to pretend things are the way they were, and I am happy again.

love is a mixtape.

You made me a playlist that I now listen to obsessively.

I breathe in each lyric that I think means something. I breathe in lyrics like I am breathing in the scent of your skin. Lyrics that express addiction to a person. Lyrics that dabble in our love "being alive." I breathe in these lyrics while I sleep, and I am sleeping to dream of you. I breathe in these lyrics with each strained breath as I run, and I have been running so hard to forget you that I struggled to sit to write these words because my thighs ache as much as my heart.

Questions repeat in my mind as I shower. As I do the dishes. As I walk to work. As I live my life virtually without you in it.

Was it real? Do we really feel this way about each other? Is it just me suffering?

I have cried so often, so randomly, I was convinced it was hormonal and that I was pregnant, even though I was bleeding at the time. I read the instructions to the First Response test I bought dozens of times, just to make sure I was right. Of course, and quite luckily, I am not pregnant.

I have reacted so violently to all of this that I am now convinced I am out of my mind.

I preferred things when we were sneaking around. I got to see you, and talk to you, and touch you much more often. It's not about sex. It's about me needing you. It's about me needing us.

C'mon, please?

Just do it already.

I am way cooler.

vanilla skies vs. reality

In a waking dream you and I were young parents trying to keep the romance alive in our equally young marriage.

You were a really great father, and I tried to convince you that the sounds on the baby monitor were perfectly natural.

alas, it killed the mood.

even in my surreal life, my unborn daughter is her daddy's girl.

Final days and more dental news

I did not have teeth extracted last week. Instead, I received anti-biotics, an explanation that my old root canal was not done properly and must be retreated. My dentist is wonderful, and actually asked if I have any interest in braces, which I do.

I have no qualms about being the 30 year old with braces.

Last night I had a dream that I had divorce papers served, and Joel tried to counter-sue me for something. To win my case, I posted an ad on Craigslist asking for all women that he was sexually involved with while we were together to contact me. I managed to get thirteen women to give me signed and notarized testimony to serve as evidence of his infidelities.

In my dream, the judge was impressed with my work.

Fruit, Fruitiness, and Rotting Teeth

Is it weird that I feel cute/sexy when I eat apples?

I ate one, and now my rotting tooth hurts worse. Luckily/Unfortunately, I have a dentist appointment in the morning. I'm hoping they'll yank out a couple and replace them with some false teeth.

I just saw my only ILM dreamboat. It's funny. I don't want to date him, or sleep with him, for that matter. I just want to receive his hugs, which are great, and admire his good looks and listen to him play guitar and talk to him about things.

My two big bosses just left for a roadtrip to visit some clients.

My productivity is completely shot.

Things about stuff that is good for me emotionally

I got to see my brother.

He and his band, JVA, and Hercules, an Omaha band on tour with them, played at the Soapbox and stayed at mi casa for a few days. I can confidently say that my house can comfortably hold a lot of sleepy/drunk people.

I'm really too exhausted to even think right now -- more later, I suppose.

I just wanted to say that I am going to sleep a) sober b) happy.

Also, I think it's hilarious that after all this time, I still have a crush on Mellow. I guess it's hilarious because we see each other once a year and don't really make contact otherwise.

Oh well. It's no secret that I am a silly, silly woman.

Alright. Sleep awaits.