Nothing For Money

(sighs) Another day, another spending spree. Got up early this morning, decided I needed a cube storage unit shelf thing for my entryway, and ended up buying 200 some bucks worth of random stuff, with the cube unit at the very end of the day.

Don't get me wrong, I'm.. not trying to fill this hole I feel inside with material items; but I.. sheesh.. I have this odd compulsion to really decorate my place. REALLY DECORATE. I mean, it's weird, it's.. not normal. I have barely changed anything in my home for the past six years, so maybe that has something to do with it.

And, of course, her. She gets credit also.

One of the first things I remember doing after Gina broke up with me, was to hang pictures up on my dining room wall. So, this:

Those three pictures, that I had sitting in my closet for a few years now, suddenly got whipped out and smacked on that damn bare ass wall. Earlier, I had three color swatches just sitting there. For like, years. I originally wanted to paint that wall, but never got around to it.

Oh, and on the table there, those are the paper flowers Gina gave me on our first date. I remember joking with her through text, about how she had to bring me flowers. And when she asked me what kind I liked, I said paper ones. And.. she actually went through with it. Yeah.. now you know why..

Why.. I still.. want her. Love her.

Oh, God.

It's been a week to the day that I dropped off those cds for her, at her work, next to her car. Just scattered them on the ground thinking that she would pick them up, and listen to my mix cd. Not knowing it was from me.

Well, as my email said, that plan failed.

And.. (sighs).. My morning.. started off.. as usual, but.. as I was sitting outside having my coffee, feeling the sun shine down; I.. felt a burble..

Let me explain what a burble is. It's like a wave of sadness/despair/regret that swells up like a bubble, and just as quickly, dissipates. It's like I'm thinking, "oh no.. I'm going to start choking up" and... somehow it goes away as fast as it appears.

I had a bunch of those today.

Most notably, was while I was driving. It came in, and it felt like it was stuck in my chest. And I had to melt it down because it wouldn't "pop" like most burbles should. And.. I remember driving, listening to this mix cd my ex-girlfriend Elizabeth made for me in 2001; and..

It fucking sucked.

I wanted to close my eyes and fall asleep. Never to wake up. It was like.. a weariness.. coupled with these other emotions, and thoughts of her, again.

I was thinking about what it would be like to hug her again. To hold her close.

And when my first burble appeared this morning, I was sitting in a chair, closing my eyes and half-hoping/expecting a little pinch on my toe, where I'd open my eyes and see her standing there. With a big smile on her face.

God save me.

I thought I killed hope. But.. evidentally I didn't. It came back, and I don't.. have much of a desi.. well, maybe strength is the right word? I didn't have much strength in me to squash it.

I've been trying though. Whenever I think that she is listening to my cd, or that she might suddenly drive up and ring my doorbell; I get.. I try to.. rationalize away those hopes. By telling them that it's over. And.. my mantra for those moments, used to be "no hope".. then, "stop hoping" .. and now it's.. "you're never going to see her again."

(sighs) motherfucker..

I'm swearing, because I'm.. I don't know. I'm not upset at myself. I'm doing what I can. I'm making my home a beautiful place to live.

But, what for, really? For myself?

Or for her?

I'm wondering this, because when I first hung those pictures up on the dining room wall, I remember thinking:

"Man, Gina would love to see this."

Followed by,

"...If she ever comes back."

And that was the.. well, I think it was the first time I really felt the loss of her, when I thought those words.

I.. bought a lot of cool stuff today. My two favorite items is a new case for my Edge 7, and this light projector from a company (or called) Ohuhu. It's incredibly bright. And super awesome.

Again, I thought, "If only Gina could see this."

But Gina is not here.

And she nev.. I don't know about never.. never say never.

But, I have to kill hope somehow. Even.. even..

No. I don't want to be dishonest. I won't lie to myself.

She MIGHT come back. And if she does. I'll be ready for her.

I'm going to sweep that beautiful idiot..woman, off of her feet.

My love.

My Queen.

My Gina.

In the basement again, with the candle and cd going..

And tears down my face.

What the fuck, man.

God help me.

This b..

This...

This sucks.

Money For Nothing

Whew, phew, achoo! Lots to write about, from today and the day before. If I wrote down all the details, this blog would turn into a full-time job, I'm sure of it.

Let's start with a quick recap of yesterday.

Hmm. (puts on thinking cap)

I suppose.. well, I painted part of my deck; but the highlight from yesterday was my visit to Lowes.

Avid readers (heh) will be delighted to know, that my horrible ex-girlfriend Cassandra, happens to be an HR person at Lowes. Of course, I went in there because I didn't have a choice, and needed to pick up a few things that I couldn't get at Home Depot.

Ceiling fan and vintage light bulbs, bitches.

So yeah, and also I had to sell my Dolly Parton tickets there, as someone called me about them and said they could meet me in the parking lot. Sold em off for 400 bucks to a nice older couple. I teased the guy who was buying them about him having to go with his wife, and she laughed when I said, "oh you poor bastard."

Ceiling fan. Alright. Well, I found the one I wanted for a cool 109$ which is ridiculously cheap, and it wasn't the price that did me in, but it matches my fixtures and looks swanky. Had it been 200$, I would've gotten it anyways.

So I'm in that aisle with the fans, and struck up a conversation with the guy there.

"Do you know if there are two separate wires for both the light and the fan?" I ask.

"I don't know, uh.."

"Have you ever installed a ceiling fan?"

"Nope. But I can tell you the fan speed," and he points at this box, showing it was 4,000 something.

Heh.

"What kind of a crappy employee are you?" I teased.

Then he tells me about all this other stuff he knows about, stuff that has nothing to do with ceiling fans.

I laugh, and I cut in with "hey, well, I'm pretty good at Street Fighter, but that's not going to help me much with this, will it?"

His phone then rings, and mine does too (tickets), so I go outside, do the transaction and run into "fan guy" as he is heading out on his lunch break. We joke around a bit, and I gave him a recommendation to go to Blaze pizza across the street.

Back in I go, wandering around the aisles and picking up a few things.

Think I saw Cassandra at one point, but I cleverly turned my head to the side as I pushed my cart by her. She was looking at some product with another person, so it worked out.

At check out, was the fun part. This girl Carmen was there, and she rung me up.

Total cost, around 205 bucks.

"Hey, could you use your employees discount for me?"

Carmen was this cute young girl, and she said, "sure!"

"What?!" I figured I was just going to joke with her about it.

"Do you know someone who works here though?" she asks.

"Yeah," I grinned. "I know Cassandra!"

"You know Cassie?"

"That's right, so you'd better give me that discount or..." and I give a kind of threatening sarcastic glare.

She laughed. And tried to give me the discount, but it didn't work out. Seems like I needed some kind of Lowes card in order for her to do it. I said not to worry.

Just as I was finishing paying, I confessed to her that Cass was my ex and that we parted on bad terms. Then I suggested that if she wants to make her laugh, to tell her that her ex-boyfriend David was here, and that he's pregnant, and it's her baby.

"Omigawd, I will do that!" Carmen excitedly says, and rushes off to ... somewhere, presumably to where Cass is.

Heh. We had a shitty relationship, but at least Cass will laugh at this dumb joke and these two girls will have a bit of fun discussing how terrible I was, or whatever Cass will end up telling her.

Anyways, next day, (today) I had to go back to Lowes and get more vintage bulbs because of how much awesome they were putting out above my mirror in the bathroom. I wanted another set for upstairs.

Ran into ceiling fan guy again.

"What the heck, do you work here or what?" I laugh.

We get into a discussion about work, in general and he made mention of his unemployed electrician buddies, so I give him my number and tell him to call me to see if any of them would want to make a few dollars installing the fan for me.

He had to leave, but I asked him if Cass was around, and he said he wasn't sure. I then said that if wants to make her pissed off, then he should get himself a coffee from McDonalds, go up to her, and say, "David told me that you're not allowed to have my coffee sticker." Meaning, that sticker you get everytime you buy a cup, where you can exchange it for a free one after collecting 7 of these.

"Alright, I'll do that." he says. And off he went.

The reason this will piss Cassie off, is because she was always stealing those stickers from me. It's exactly why we broke up. Yes, I am kidding.

I wonder what Cass will be thinking. Heh. Probably thinks I'm indirectly stalking her and talking to every employee in the store.

One thing I wished I could've done, was to ask Carmen if she wanted to help me make Cass jealous. If she said yes, I'd have then invited her out for dinner with me. Actually, I would've said, "if you would want to let me buy you dinner sometime, and become my girlfriend, I bet Cass would get really pissed. It'll be hilarious!" but of course, I only thought of that as I was in the parking lot getting into my car.

(groans) .. I've never "picked up" anyone in public. I've only ever tried twice, and both times were awkward because both had boyfriends. I'm talking years ago, and years apart. So.. not my style.

Carmen was a lot of fun to chat with though. She had a good energy around her.

Anyways, I spent a shitload of money today. I know that money doesn't buy happiness, but it sure makes life easier.

Look at all this:

That's like.. 300 bucks worth of stuff. I've got everything from a Batman picture for my office, to a paddle board (on sale!), new couch pillows, vintage bulbs, a fake plant, candles.. and even..

Grrwarrroooowlll!!!! This badass stuffed T-Rex. Got that at Twice, But Nice, the local thrift shop for six bucks. I also found Justin's Christmas gift, which is this 600+ page book.

Gonna give him a box of crayons to go along with it. I'm sure Justin will enjoy coloring that jizz however he wants. Blue would work best, I think.

And, to cap off my day, I was paid a visit!

Here's how it went.

I'm moving stuff around, when I hear the doorbell ring. And .. pfbt. Instantly, I was hit with the weak hope that it was Gina, obviously not, as I chastised myself the instant I thought of it.

Instead, they were two people dressed in nice clothes. One tall Asian dude, and a cute girl in her late 20s I think.

"Whattya guys trying to sell me?" I ask, grinning at them both and already knowing that these are Jehovah's Witnesses.

"No, no, we aren't trying to sell you anything! We would like to study the Bible with you. Do you believe in God?" the Asian dude asks.

"You are trying to sell me something, but you aren't charging me for it." I smile and then add, "of course I believe in God, but not the Biblical version of Him."

"You don't believe in the Bible?"

"I, uh.. er.. I believe that maybe half of it is true. I don't know, really. Are you Jehovah's Witnesses?"

Turns out they weren't, they were from the "Church of God" a denomination I've never heard of.

They wanted to come inside and study the Bible with me, and tell me about the Second Coming of Christ; but I'm very qualified to shoot down all their stuff, by asking if they believed in reincarnation and that Christ would have had multiple lives already, etc.

A funny thing happened about a minute into my telling them how dumb it would be to only live one life.

The Asian dude's enthusiasm melted right off, and he thanked me for my time and left.

"Wow, I must've really annoyed you guys," I chuckled, as I watched them walk down the steps and over to my neighbor Mike, who looked at them with annoyed bafflement.

(sighs) .. I destroy these kind of people. I was ready to defend the reincarnation argument, since the guy didn't believe in it. I was prepared to drop the whole SIDS thing, where babies suddenly die for no reason; and suggest that if there was only one life, then those poor babies would surely be in hell. Thanks to them (fundamentalists) thinking that original sin would still apply.

Didn't get my chance to throw that one in, but I was growing excited to be able to do so. I think the guy sensed the type of battle I wanted to begin fighting, and that's why he left.

Oh well. I did get one good shot in there, though. It was when he dismissed the idea of reincarnation, and I told him that Buddhism predates the Bible, is more practical, more secular and if he truly was interested in developing a relationship and understanding of God; then he would look outside the Bible, to other religions and ideas, if God is so important to him. Because no one book has all of the answers, and if he thinks it does; then he's close-minded, and not much of a "seeker" of Truth.

The Second Coming.. sheesh. Do they really think that Christ will "return" and swoop down to Earth with a cape and a smile and go, "hey party people! Christ in the hiz-zouse!" and then with holy MAGIC, he'll bring peace to Earth, give everyone eternal life, and everyone will be super happy he's back.

Sure, buddy. We're here for a reason. And being rescued isn't what we deserve.

Or have earned.

So.. yeah. Guess that's all I'm writing about today. Still making people laugh. Still looking at red cars. Still thinking of Gina.. But, now I've moved on from thinking that she is an "idiot" and I'm accepting the fact that I've tried my best in getting us back together, and that there's nothing more I can from here on out. I can go to my grave, later in life, and if I have the chance to look back; I will know that I did what I could, and there was nothing for me to regret.

I wrote the perfect email. Well.. maybe not perfect, but it was really good. I made my feelings known, and now I absolutely can't contact her again.

The ball is now in her court.

Haven't cried over her today, so that's good.

And back I go.

Into the basement, in the dark, into my chair, with a candle going and a glass of Johnnie Walker Red Label.

And the cd. Her cd.

Again.

One Last Thing

Shit, I knew I was forgetting something. Realized it after writing that last post and having a cigarette.

I dreamed about Gina this morning. Had a dream about her a few days ago too.

They're sort of interesting, I think.

The one I had today, had her being a cashier.. I think, and some guy sprayed her a little in the face with water from a mustard bottle.

I was right next to him, and I sure wasn't happy about it. I grabbed him, and somehow flipped him over so that his head was dangling to the ground and carried him away. Where I "accidentally" knocked his head into some pole, having him go unconscious. In my dream, I was like, "shit, I hope he's not dead." and I then place his body in some remote area.

There was some other guy, too, that I think harassed her a bit. Dealt with him as well, though not in the same manner as the guy I knocked out or killed.

Few days ago, this one was interesting.

I dreamed first about Gina. It was a little strange, but I imagined her on a message board or a forum someplace and reading a message she left that everyone could see. There was a feeling of jealousy or possessiveness while this was going on.

That's it for that dream, but the one that followed immediately after is the interesting one.

For years, I've pined over Erica Campbell. My version of the "perfect" woman.

I mean, look at her.

That smile. Those eyes. Those lips. That face. Hair.

Those.. ahem.. hoo-has...

My perfect woman. The woman of my dreams. And I dreamed of her.

I dreamed that I met Erica, and she wasn't what I thought she would be.

It was creepy, actually, because in this dream, I dreamed she was in love with me and not only that, but... It was the Erica that she is now. No makeup. Today. Whereever she is.

And the reason it was creepy, is because she had her boobs removed. There was scar tissue there. And her eyes.. her eyes were hollow.. not hollow, I should say, but.. dead.. crazy.

Not like the Erica I imagined in my head. The Erica I want.

The Erica I'd do anything for.

(sighs)

Thinking about those dreams, or that one in particular with Erica, had me wondering what the "message" was. And I think I figured it out.

Erica would not live up to the hype. She is crazy. Irrational. And I also remember talking with her in the dream, and it was awkward, because there was no chemistry. I'd say something, and her answer was something that I had nothing really to follow up with. It was banal. Boring. Weird.

And her creepy eyes.. And the scar tissue around where her boobs once were. She was naked, by the way, and was about to have sex with me I suppose, once the conversation was over.

But I didn't want to.

And I realized that my mind, or these dreams were telling me that I'd rather have Gina instead of Erica.

Quite a big thing to admit to, I'd have to say.

I've always wanted Erica from the moment I laid eyes on her.. in like.. geez.. 2003 or something?

I had, and still do have a big crush on her. I still remember watching some of her videos where she speaks and I loved her voice. I loved her mind. Her values. Her sense of humor. Her faith in God.

But.. my dream was telling me that she wouldn't live up to the hype.

And I'd rather be with Gina.

Crazy.

Anyways. Had to write this before I forgot.

No Traces (of the woman I know)

Tough, bananas, beans, potatoes, what have you.

Tough beans, is how I've been feeling this morning and part of yesterday.

Let's talk about yesterday, Sunday. It was kind of a momentous day that I wasn't sure if I wanted to write about, because of how personal it ended up being.

Started off in the morning, with me going to the gas station and buying a pack of smokes.

The cashier there is a Filipino lady in her 30s, who I banter with each time I go. This morning, she had her long hair down, and I commented on it as I paid for my smokes and lottery ticket.

"Hey, did.. did you do something with your hair?" I asked.

"Yes, I let it down. I look ten years younger now!" she said.

I laughed and shook my head.

"No, not ten years. Eight, you look eight years younger."

She laughed, handing over my lottery ticket. Super Max, 50 million prize draw. I had to get one, though I don't play often.

"Hey, if I win this, I'll give you fifty bucks."

"Fifty bucks?" she replies in mock astonishment and a grin. "Oh, there's so much I could do with that.."

"Yeah! You could buy groceries or something"

"For a week!" She grins.

Last time I bought a ticket, I had a similiar conversation with her, but said that I would give her a hundred bucks.

"I know I said last time I'd give you a hundred, but this time its fifty. Sorry."

I'm such a dork. She started saying a few things, and I cut in by telling her not to worry about that I will "take care" of her.

No, I don't mean I'd strangle her in her sleep with piano wire, but I did mean I'd give her a fair amount of money if I did win fifty mill. I settled on the amount of 10k, wished her a good day, and left.

The reason I'm writing about this particular story, is because I'm still able to make people smile. I'm still able to smile, myself. And I'm not walking around shuffling my feet, unable to look anyone in the eye and feeling sorry for myself.

Nope, nope no. Just because I'll nev... hmm.. Yeesh. I have to say, just because I "probably" will never see Gina again, but saying probably means I acknowledge that there's still a chance. There's still hope.

That cursed hope of mine. An annoying pest, to be sure.

Anyways, just because I probably will never see Gina again, doesn't mean I'm going to go through life like a fucking cripple with a broken heart.

For all of Sunday, I'm quite proud of how I didn't break down and cry over her like I have been doing the past couple of days.

Well, except for a "moment" with a flea market psychic, which I'll get to in a bit here...

So, I did go back to the flea market, to see if there was still that second "Nazar" that I bought last week. I figured my mom would like it.

There was. But it took about an hour and a half of waiting around for Trina to open her stall up, since she was busy with some young guy in there, who was getting what appeared to be a Reiki treatment.

I waited patiently for her, on the bench next the stall. Finally saw her, said I was interested in a psychic reading (she offers a bunch of different services) and she said for me to come back at 1, hence the hour and a half waiting.

During that time, I picked up a few items, had a pizza sub and talked for a bit with an insulator who I haven't seen in years. He's the one that gave me that Mickey Mouse cap which I placed on Yoda a few weeks ago.

I still want to own this thing though...

It's a goddamn spy watch from the 1940s. Can you believe it? They could actually record VIDEO.. oops, wait.. maybe it's only for photos. Still, that's impressive tech for the 40s. I don't think it was until the 60s, when tv shows like Get Smart and the Bond movies really brought gadgets like that to mainstream awareness. It's amazing how far ahead the military was, at the time.

I also had a conversation with a guy about brass oil lamps. I showed him pictures of mine, to see what he thought it would be worth.

Got to be worth something, right? Showing it to this guy had him go wide-eyed and saying that it was something "special" and that it likely was worth "alot". When I pressed him for a ballpark number, he said he would have to research it to be sure, but thought a few hundred bucks is around how much it could sell for.

Nice. I'm thinking of keeping it. Maybe converting it to an electric lamp, and keep it on my fireplace mantel where it is now.

So, shenanigans aside, I manage to get in to see Trina, where I offered her a hundred and ten bucks for her Buddha statue, Nazar and a psychic reading. She accepted and closed the door, pulling out a deck of Tarot cards.

"Shuffle the cards," she says, "are you comfortable with picking out 13?"

"Sure. Who cares about that number. It only means something if someone believes it does. Your booth has the number 13 in it, so..."

Anyways, we chat like this while the reading goes on. She asked me to think of a "question" that I want answered as I shuffled the cards. I paused for a bit, and decided upon this one:

"Will Gina and I get back together?"

I couldn't tell Trina that was my question, until later, but she flipped my 13 cards over and announces that the prediction was going to be about "work".

I groaned inside. Pfbt. Work. I don't care about work. And I wasn't working now anyways.

She tells me that there are two people I'm in conflict with at work.

"I'm not working," I said.

Heh. Predictions had to be bent around a bit.

Anyways, I was pretty disappointed with the overall theme and predictions and I told her this after she was done. "No big deal," I assured her. Not feeling gyped in the least.

Because looking into Trina's blue/gray eyes during all this, made me realize that she was a really good person who was doing her best to help me.

Not like that flea market psychic I saw years ago who said I was going to get married and publish a book.

Heh.

Overall, I got a few things from this. Apparently I drew a really good card, something with a Sun on it and she thinks it has something to do with someone in my family about to have a child. Or there will be a child in the next few months (announced).. Then, I'm supposedly going to be taking a trip to someplace old, which I kind of thought it was Cuba because I was thinking about going in November, but she guessed Mexico. And there was some other prediction that I will know about by February.. Forgot what it was.

Well, all said and done, Trina and I finish up and she needed to go outside for a cigarette, to which I offered to go and keep her company, and have one as well.

I think our conversation .. Hmm, I'm missing some important bits of what we said during the reading..

I remember telling her about Gina, and she pulled out this pendulum and tried asking it if Gina and I were going to be back together.

I stopped her, saying that I know how these things worked. That there are unconscious muscles in our fingers that twitch around and influences the answer. So, she had me holding it.

Interestingly, nothing really happened. The pendulum swung in a circle, instead of up/down, side-to-side.

She tried a few different things, but concluded saying that she couldn't figure out what the answer was.

At least she was honest. She gave me a couple rose quartz crystal things and told me to put one in each of my pockets. I was like, "how long do I have to do that for?" apparently, they're intended for healing me or something. Though she said I was doing quite well, for someone who was heartbroken.

Anyways, outside having a smoke with her was more interesting than the reading.

I told her about my struggle in realizing a relationship with God. Knowing who God is, what is expected of me, what I can "ask" for from this being, whether or not "God" as depicted in the Bible, is an evil being and then told her about Gnosticism for a bit.

Yada, yada. Our conversation went on for quite a bit, two smokes later, she said she could sense energies in people.

"Do you sense anything in me?" I ask.

This is where her eyes went wide and a big smile came up.

"Ohhhhh yes. You are.."

I'm trying to remember EXACTLY the words, but I'm struggling.

She basically said I was a very good person. And a few other things..

I lost it. I.. could feel tears well up, and I had to fight them down. I wasn't bawling or sobbing, but boy.. It wasn't easy keeping them under control. I'd say three or four tears came sliding down when she started talking about how.. amazing, I am, I guess.

It.. prompted her, these tears prompted her to go, "aw.." and offer me a hug.

Great fucking hug, by the way. Total body contact. Not like those hugs where people sort of hesitate a bit and there's a gap between the two of you. But, that's a mutual thing. I remember consciously pressing myself up against her, just because to not do so, would've been an insult.

So, she.. repeated. Hrmph. She.. validated my worth again, said for me to come back soon, and that she will "remember" my name now.

"What's my name?" I grin at her, as she walked back inside, having to go help another client.

"David," she smiles. "You're David. And you're a good man."

"Don't start again." I shook my head at her, gave a smile, and left.

(sighs)

There are still good people left in this world.

... and if I cry in front of someone, then it means something. It's rare. Important. Something meaningful. Last time I remember doing this, was when Gina came over and I didn't want to tell her that my father passed away the day before. I didn't want to ruin our time together. But I blurted it out, and she.. she gave me a hug and I crumbled in her arms..

But, whatever...

Anyways, that's my post for today.

Wait..

Hmm..

I'm back to listening to metal music again.

Feels fucking good man... Soulfly is on now. Babylon.

Fucking metal.

Exactly what I need right now.

Fuck that beautiful idiot I love.

Fuck her up her big stupid ass.

Should probably add a smiley face after that statement, but eh. I know my sarcasm. And I have no idea if I'll ever let anyone in the future read my blog again, so who gives a shit if I'm not expressing my feelings unambigiously.

Ah, yeah.. Went out with my mom after the flea market.. That was good, too. Eh. I'm not going to write down every stupid little detail.

Wrote enough, already.

Dave out.

Egg Timer

Watched Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Turtles in Time, because it was two bucks on demand; and it was shit.

Laying in bed, listening to music with my lights set to an ocean blue color (thanks Philips Hue!), I came to the realization that I am a fucking loser.

I'm imagining what it would be like to look at myself from Gina's perspective, and that's the conclusion I came up with.

I am not a fucking man. I am a loser. I'm an immature kid.

At least, that's what she must be thinking right now, as the warm rosy afterglow of that letter I sent her, must have left her with.

"That David, wow.. what a loser. I feel sorry for him."

No way in hell am I going to be respected for that letter. Or my attempts in getting her back. Not by Gina, not by anyone.

I am a fucking loser.

And my life sucks.

And I don't know what to fucking think about myself and how I should "be" in this world where the cynical and superficial reign supreme.

Fucking pretend, I guess. Like everyone else does. Pretend like I don't "care" if I have a woman in my life or not, and if I do, pretend like she's not a big deal to me.

Like just about every other guy I know, who tells me about their wife or girlfriend.

Nobody truly gives a shit.

Everything is disposable. Everyone is disposable. Dump this guy and hop online. You'll find someone new in a day or two. Spread your legs, rinse and repeat. Watch yourself grow cynical and colder and less believing/receptive towards the idea of actually being in a relationship with a foundation rooted in love. Actual love. Not your Hollywood-fed 50 Shades of Grey / Hugh Jackman bullshit romance/comedy/drama/Twilight whatever fantasy crap that women are being peddled these days.

Fuck women.

Yeah, in more ways than one. I see the point in my single co-worker buddies telling me about how they fuck and leave girls. Who wants to settle down and actually develop anything meaningful? Especially if they will be taking half your shit afterwards, when they inevitably cheat on you with someone else. Why fucking bother with that?

I know this guy at work, let's call him "Chris" even though "Chris" is his actual name. Guy claims to have fucked over 200 women off of websites like POF and Tinder.

I had no respect for him at all. He's a douche. But hey, women love douches apparently. Because of how closely a douche resembles their idealized version of what a "man" is supposed to be. Decisive, strong, wealthy, charismatic, intelligent, and .. doesn't give a shit.

Anyways, he was a douche and not actually an "idealized" man.. or a good example of one. No sense of honor.. that's a quality that most douches don't actually have, which few women pick up on.

"Where are all the nice guys out there?" women cry, in their profiles online. And then jump into the sack with inmate #232, who's all tatted up with a six pack and slaps and pulls their hair, etc.

Hypocrites.

I threw a quip at Chris once. When he was telling me about how he broke up with so and so. Another break up story where he shrugged it off, and the girl is like "plz txt me k thx"shortly after the deed.

"It's hard finding a good girl these days, huh?" I asked, after hearing these details.

He shot me this look. Kind of a disbelieving, "I can't believe how stupid you are" sort of expression.

I had to laugh inwardly at that face he made. He's not looking for a good girl. He's looking for an easy lay. If they stick around, great. If not, then onto the next one.

Douche. Fucking douche.

Boy, am I letting my anger out.. feels good I tell ya!

Actually, I'm not all that angry.. Still, well. Partly angry, more frustrated, really.

Frustrated at a world that is telling me to be the opposite of who I want to be.

Honorable. Loving. Giving. Kind. Vulnerable. Honest.

Douches can get the honesty part sort of right, especially if they are good looking douches and/or douches with a lot of money and an Italian salami attached to their pelvises. But, they can't get the rest of the qualities right.

Still, though. Women don't care. They still want douches. And they think they can change the douche, by being..

Oh, who cares. I'm not interested in doing an analysis right now. Just spit balling.

Just thinking of what Gina must be thinking of me, right after I wrote that email.

She probably showed it off to her mom already. Probably her friend Dawn, too.

And everyone is shaking their heads, probably telling her that she dodged a bullet with me.

Or some bloody shit.

Nobody believes in love anymore. People want to. Women who watch a lot of romance, want to.

But nobody actually BELIEVES in love anymore.

People have this vague notion of it. This kind of idea in their heads, that may or may not sync up with reality, and it doesn't matter to them. They'll be happy with cheap copies of the real thing, and grow comfortable in feeling a fake kind of authenticity.

Eh.

I'm tired. Had to grab the laptop and pound out an entry. It's probably going to be important that I write my thoughts down as much as I can, in and around the period of my "Gina" phase. Which I expect to get over soon.

I'm sure she's long gotten over me.

I'm sure she's completely forgotten how good we were together. How amazing the sex was. How ..

It doesn't matter, anymore. Fuck her. That beautiful idiot can be lonely for the rest of her life for all I care.

Or maybe someday, she will find herself a douche to fall in "love" with, and eventually have her heart broken over. Just like that one guy she dated before me, who fucked her and then called her kids "baggage" afterwards. Smart dude to have waited till after the deed was done.

High five bro. That's how you treat them bitches.

Right?

Am I doing okay so far?

Fuck y'all.

A Beautiful Idiot, and the loss of Faith

Yesterday.. well.. Thursday.. Friday. I can't remember when I.. Okay, Thursday I last posted.

So, Friday then..

(sighs)

Not good. Not.. well, maybe it was good. Because now I can.. have to move on.

Early in the afternoon, as I finished painting a part of my deck and was taking a break, I got an email from Gina about her having read (parts) of my blog. Not only did she read parts of it, but also, her mother read it first and then told her about it afterwards.

Looking at my site counter, I managed to see exactly which pages were linked and read, so it was these posts:

Jack and the Octopus

Seven

Remember

Love Don't Keep Me Waiting

I Forgot To Write Down What I Think

Georgina

Encore

Counting Red Cars

I'm confused about "I Forgot To Write Down What I Think" because it doesn't exist on this blog. Yet, the html file was accessed. Even though there isn't one.

I'm not sure, but I think those specific posts were looked at by both Gina and her mom. While I believe her mom, didn't go to each post, but rather went from one to the next; so perhaps, Gina's mom would know more about me and my blog than Gina had the time to really pursue on her own, while she was at work.

So, I got her email saying that she was "embarassed and humilated" because she choose to have her mom scan the blog before she read them herself.

She then said she "kindly" requests for me to delete her photos and remove her full name. From my private blog. And though she said she knew it was private, she still wanted them gone anyways.

Well, too bad Gina. It IS a private blog. And I really can't imagine who else in the future would I ever be comfortable with being allowed on here to read my thoughts. Like I did with you.

And your mother. Unintentionally.

It is what it is, so Gina gave me this thing about how she would contact Google if she has to, and tell them to take it down, and then she ended with saying that I can find someone else to give those Dolly Parton tickets to.

It was sad. Sad, because my blog seemed to have no effect. It changed nothing, these sincere and heartfelt thoughts I had been expressing this past month and a half. My heart was in these words, and my original intention was to ease her concern about my still wanting to contact her.

Whatever.

So, what I wrote back, as I finished painting my deck and had blue paint over my hands; I wrote back..

Well..

I wouldn't even call it writing, really.

I made a bomb.

And I delivered it to her through email.

It was constructed out of my heart's most intimate and sincere thoughts. 

It was a love letter, basically, that I didn't plan in advance of having to write.

It..

It was like the cd I made for her.

It was perfect.

And yes, I did drop those cds off at her work. That is why her mom called, and her uncle.

I admitted to it in the email, along with telling her that I slipped in my mix cd inside of one of the (sealed) cd cases, so that she would listen to it and be surprised.

The original plan was to leave two cds near her vehicle, having her think someone else left them and then unsealing these cds and putting mine in without noticing the CD-R that was written on the disc.

And, of course, my plan failed.

But, yeah. That love letter. That bomb.

I'd like to post it on here.

At first I was reluctant, because it was so deeply personal and heartfelt and.. I wanted to respect the sanctity of it. It meant a lot to me, because it was the truest thing I had ever written. The most honest thing I have ever said.

But, now that my blog is private again, and now that I think that Gina is a complete idiot for not giving me a second chance; I'm putting it up.

Here goes,

================

Thank you for reading, Gina. Well, it was private, and I had no intention of anyone ever reading it.

But I do feel like you've left me with no choice.

Here's the stupid thing I'm going to say. Again.

I love you. I am 38 years old, and I have been in enough relationships and dates to know who and who isn't worthwhile.

You're it.

I know you don't love me, haven't loved me, and claim that the feelings you felt for me was just infatuation; but I know you could have. I know we would've been great together.

But, as I wrote in my blog, I was scared and suspicious of you. I had to protect myself. I have had relationships similar to ours that started off with promise, only to have something ugly reveal itself down the line.

I kept waiting for that moment with you, and I eventually got it. Once you broke up with me.

And when that happened, I stopped. I took a hard look at myself, at my life and I was deeply ashamed. I changed on Sunday evening, when I came to your house and your mom was there.

I don't mean to embarrass or humiliate you. I am still dating, and still hopeful, but in my heart..

(sighs)

God damn it. I LOVE YOU BABY DOLL.

And..

I know when it's time to move on. I know I can, and I know I will have to. I already am trying. I'm trying.. But these dates I've been on. God, you have no idea what kind of people are out there. I've.. I've dated enough. I have lost faith in women years ago.

Until I met you.

And..

This is going to be my last message. I promise. I don't have anything left that I can do to have you change your mind.

But I do know that you've judged me wrong. Very wrong. And as I told you while we were together, you don't know the half of who I am.

And that was intentional. And that was probably why you stopped having feelings for me in our last few weeks.

I'm taking responsibility for my actions, Gina. I did leave you those cds. And I did not expect you to react the way you did.

I would never want to hurt the one I love.

So, I did something clever. In the Alan Jackson case, my mix cd is inside. I thought you wouldn't think these "found" cds were from me, and I wanted you to be surprised to put that disc in and listen to it.

My plan didn't work out as I hoped.

But. I'm hoping you still have the cd, and that you will someday give it a chance to listen to.

I will make my blog private again. You won't hear from me anymore. I'm sorry for upsetting you. I'm sorry for not giving enough of myself when I had the chance to.

I'm also sorry for not having met your family. Or your kids. I.. Was scared. Nervous. I didn't want to make a bad impression. I didn't want us to break up, and so out of fear, I couldn't be the man I really am.

I want to. Badly. Right now I'm outside on my deck after having painted it. There's blue paint on my hands, and I thought I'd take a break and check my phone. There was your email.

And, I have tears going down my face.

I.. I know you must think this is ridiculous. It's.. Been two months. And I've really changed. If only you could see me now. My home. The relationship I now have with my mom, my friends.

If only you could see me Gina.

Looking into my eyes, might have you believing it.

But... It sounds like.. You hate me. It sounds like there's nothing left of the woman I know.

So. I'm.. Going to go.

I..

Love you.

And this turned into something that I've never seen in any Hollywood romance film before.

But.. It is what it is.

Goodbye beautiful.

My heart will always be yours if you want it.

Love,

David.
=====================

I don't feel like I have anything to comment on that letter. Just that I got everything out of my system, exactly the way I wanted it.

Yeah.. I cried while writing it. I cried later that day, too, in my dark basement with a candle, headphones on, trying to get drunk, but failing.. Couldn't find anything worth listening to, other than a bit of Debussey, and I grew annoyed with the more jubilant parts of it and ended up listening to her cd again.

It was hard to sleep that night too.

But, I realize.. I have to let these pains pass through me. I have to accept those feelings. Those terrible feelings..

(sighs)

Because, those feelings make me who I am. Whatever I am. Some kind of freakish super-sensitive overly-romantic, delusional kind of person who wants to believe in love, and has experienced it enough to know what it is like.

And wants to share it, but nobody wants it.

Not her, anyways.

Probably nobody else, either.

My depth.. my emotions.. they're just too.. deep. Too.. flamboyant.. or something.. I don't even know the correct word to be using.

So.. I spent a lot of yesterday, fighting a battle within myself. My enemy across the field staring at me with death in it's eyes, had the name, "Hope" and repeatedly assaulted me with all of its strength.

I had to try my best to kill it. I had to stop thinking that maybe this email will work, somehow. Maybe that cd will be listen to. Someday. Maybe Gina will have a change of heart. Maybe her mother will convince her to give me another chance. Maybe.

Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

I'm tired of maybes.

I had to kill hope. I wasn't successful, but I really wounded that son of a bitch. I think I took out an eye, and severed a limb. I don't know. It's an abstract metaphor for fuck's sake.

My primary weapon, was reason. And my ammunition, was to realize Gina to be an idiot.

A beautiful idiot, but an idiot just the same.

An idiot that I love.

That was the best I could come up with. There was no, "oh, I'll find someone better" or, "God works in mysterious ways" or "everything happens for a reason" .. Those cliches wouldn't have done shit, against Hope. That motherfucker took a beating, and it's still.. somewhere.. crawling around in the dark.

I don't know where it went. But it's not completely dead. Though I pretend it to be.

I still find myself looking at red cars, and looking out at the street whenever I pass by my front door. Thinking that I would see her walking up the steps.

And I have.. (sighs) .. I don't know what else to say here.

Just doing the best I can at the moment. Sometimes I think of something, and cry. Like.. now.. at this second. Just thinking about what I'm writing here..

Yeah.. It's true. It's all true. I love that woman. I would.. probably have married her, if I had the chance. Knowing what I know now.

She's.. I'm not going to say soulmate, because that's another discussion for another time and it's a complex idea to discuss.

She's.. the best.

The kindest.

The sweetest.

The loveliest.

Woman.. I've.. ever .. met.

And..

I probably won't ..

No.

I WON'T ever find anyone like her again.

That I know for sure. No probably, ifs, mights, or buts.

Maybe I'll find someone close. But they'll be different.

They won't be Gina. And I really doubt, they'd be more of a prize than she is.

And I don't like settling for second place.

But I have to.

I'm not going to bother with dating for a while. If I get a message from someone interesting, I'll consider it. But I won't be enthusiastic about it. I guess I wasn't anyways, this past month and a half.. well, except for that 23 year old since she really had me going with our texts, but.. that was lust.. not love.. not the excitement that love can bring.

Yeah.. so.. Life goes on, right? Bought my mom a 400$ Pandora bracelet with charms today, and holy hell was the clerk who assisted me was SUPER HOT. Low cut cleavage, young, lipstick, dark rimmed glasses.. very lovely, very feminine. I felt comfortable joking with her, and managed to touch her wrist a few times (because she was trying on the bracelet, dammit, I asked her to model it for me)...

Bought a Pinnochio porcelin doll from the flea market, and wanted that second Nazar, but Trina wasn't there at 11am when the place opened at 10. So, I couldn't stand around and wait for her to show up.

Perogies at Shumka at Kingsway Mall.. drove home.

Soon as I entered the door, I could feel the weight of loneliness descend upon me like my house was filled with it.

I started crying a bit.

Went into the basement, did my laundry.

Cried.

Recovered. Listened to music.

Cried.. (a little, not much)

Sobbed. (a little)

Ahhhh hemmmmmmgheuijkdfkdjfkdfd..

I'm back to my lonely life.

A lonely life without hope.

And no faith in women left at all.

Thanks to that beautiful idiot.

The beautiful idiot that I most love in this world.

Act II

Well, this is it. Weeks ahead of schedule, and completely unexpected.

But I had to.

I'm talking about making my blog public for the first time in seven years.

Originally I started this as a way of entertaining a small number of friends, who each had blogs and decided in around 2009/10 to make it private.

It was just getting too personal. I didn't feel comfortable sharing that side of myself with people who I hang(ed) out with on a weekly basis.

So, the blog is now public, and my first visitor is going to be Gina.

Seven years.. is such a long time. I didn't update as much in that time, and have gone a year between posts, but I did try and write everyday for the past month and a half.

I hope this will work. I hope...

Well, I hope. Is all I'm going to be saying.

Hi Gina.

Welcome.

Crazy Stupid Love

Last night, yesterday, was crazy.

It started innocently enough, I kicked the day off by going to my appointment with Kristen over at Drift Float Studios which is this place where you can sit in a big bathtub and float around in total darkness.

Looks like this,

Trippy, huh? I haven't done float "therapy" in almost two years now, I think, and spending an entire hour inside one of these things, wasn't as good as I hoped it would be.

I floated for an hour, alone with my thoughts, in total darkness, feeling the silkiness of the water and though I expected to have something creative pop up in my noggin, or at least some form of constructive thinking; I didn't have anything, really.

Because it was my first time here, I felt compelled to make up a list of ways I could improve the overall experience that I was having at Drift Studios. Kristen was a super nice person, and it was a new business, and when I came in, we discussed how it was going, what inspired her to start it, etc.

But, yeah. I spent an hour in that tank, pretty much thinking of ways to improve Kristen's business rather than really letting myself go and allowing my mind to relax.

Here's a small list of "improvements" I came up with while floating in there:

1) The room was bare and sparsely decorated, so why not put a plant in there?
2) It needed a bigger mirror. All that was in there was a tiny circle, and it was on the far side of the room away from the shower
3) There was no clock inside, so I couldn't tell how much time was remaining before I had to leave
4) The room could've used a wax warmer, or incense, so that it would smell better
5) Floats should be in half hour increments, rather than an entire hour. I was getting bored in the last 15 minutes
6) The showerhead was plain, and a good idea would be to install one of those color-changing heads so you can tell what the temperature is before going inside. Plus it would liven up the atmosphere.
7) More pictures on the wall. There was nothing there.

And so on. I spent an entire hour in a bathtub thinking of ways for Kristen to improve her business, and when I passed on these suggestions to her afterwards, she shot them all down. She had an answer for everything but the shower head, and generally, her reasoning came down to, "well, I don't want people to stay inside the room for too long". Things like incense and having a plant in there and pictures, well, she said it wouldn't be worth the effort.

I was pretty disappointed with the hour I spent in there. I didn't feel all that relaxed after it was done, and my back was still a little sore, which is part of what floating is supposed to help with.

After that, did a trip to Costco for a few things, stopped at Walmart, went home.

Then, I get a call on my phone from some guy named "Steven" who said it was about his niece, Gina.

Before I could call him back, my phone started ringing with what was said to be a "private" number.

It was Gina's mom.

(sighs) this is the part that I don't enjoy writing about.

She called to tell me to leave her daughter alone, and that if I ever contacted Gina again, she would go to the police. We spent maybe 20 minutes discussing this, as well as my feelings for her daughter, my disappointment at not having met her mom, etc. The reason she called, was because Gina found cds at her work today, and thought it was from me.

I had to hang up on her mom at the end there, apologizing as I did so, because she seemed pretty determined to get me to to admit responsibility for having done that.

In my blog, I mentioned the mixed cd that I made Gina, that I hoped she would listen to, but that is not what was dropped off. They were random cds, with no rhyme or reason to them.

It was shortly after this conversation, that I had to turn my phone off and go into the bathroom to sit on the edge of the tub.

And, think.

The first thing I thought about, was that yes. It's over between us. If Gina's mother and her uncle are both calling me to say to leave their daughter/niece alone, then I really shouldn't be giving her those Dolly Parton tickets in a few weeks. I really should stop hoping, that somehow Gina will have a change of heart and be willing to give me another chance.

Wendy (her mom) kept calling me though. I had to turn my phone off, and then later block private calls from calling. She called me 9 times. During our conversation, I thought I said everything that needed to be said and that there was nothing further to say. She thought otherwise. And I wasn't interested in being subjected to basically what amounts to harassment and being put down.

I recorded the conversation. Saved a screenshot of all her calls, and she filled my voicemail up asking me to call her back because she still had some things she wanted to tell me. Though we had already talked for about 20 minutes on this.

While sitting on the tub, swiping right to ignore the incoming calls and then turning the phone off, I couldn't stay inside the house. I had to leave. So, I went down to the river valley, put my headphones on and went for a walk.

It was grey and gloomy and about to rain, but I did manage to talk to a couple of guys who were fishing and I saw an attractive couple in love who were kissing near the edge of the water.

I wish I could've been that guy with that girl.

When I got back home, after a couple hours, I felt the odd compulsion to watch this movie:

Crazy Stupid Love with a huge cast of big name actors like Kevin Bacon, Steve Carrel, Ryan Gosling, Marisa Tomei.. Just an amazing cast of talented people.

And it was the perfect movie, at the perfect time.

The first film I've watched since that last night with Gina, over two months ago.

I laughed. I sighed. It was funny, it was sweet, it was charming and..

Boy. It was exactly what I needed.

Look at this bit of dialog from the film:

[at Robbie graduation, he takes the stand to make his graduation speech]
Robbie Weaver: Welcome, class of 2011. Our time as middle schoolers has come to an end. We can’t fight it anymore, we’re getting old
[there’s mumbling of laughter from the crowd]
Robbie Weaver: All my life I wanted to grow up. I wanted to appear older, so people would take me seriously. It all sounded so good to me. Growing up, getting a job, getting married, but it’s all a scam. And love, that’s the biggest scam of all. I was in love, and I…I know that makes some of you laugh, cause I’m only thirteen. But, whatever, I was. And I used to think, I really believed that there was one true love for everyone and if you fought hard enough for that person, your one true love would always work out. It sounded good to me when I younger, but it just doesn’t work that way. There is no such thing as one true love.
[suddenly Cal stands up from his place in the audience] 
Cal Weaver: Stop!
[everyone in the crowd turns and looks at Cal]
Cal Weaver: Shit!

[after interrupting Robbie’s speech Cal faces the crowd and looks at the panel of teachers and notices Kate discreetly giving him the finger]

Cal Weaver: Well, here’s the thing. My son’s graduation speech sucks. That’s not a joke. In fairness, I didn’t know where he was going with that, but I think we can all agree it was headed in the kind of depressing um…way. My son, not him, my actual son believes in grand romantic gestures. He believes in the existence of one soul mate. And it’s easy to just look at a thirteen year old and say; ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. You are wrong.’ But I’m not so sure. I met my soul mate when I was fifteen years old. We went out for ice cream. After my dad started teasing me about my first date, the way dads do, and I told him; ‘Dad, it’s no big deal. I’m gonna be going out with a lot of different girls on a lot of different dates.’ And that is the first time that I ever lied to my father. I met my soul mate when I was fifteen years old and I’ve loved her every minute, every day since I first bought her that mint chocolate chip cone. I have loved her through the birth of our three perfect children. I have loved her, even when I’ve hated her. You married couples will understand that one. And I don’t know if it’s gonna work out, I don’t know what’ gonna happen.
[turns to Robbie]
Cal Weaver: I’m sorry, Robbie. I can’t give you that. But I can promise you this, I will never stop trying. Because when you find the one, you never give up.

Cal Weaver was talking about his wife, at the end there, who wanted a divorce early on in the movie. Which prompted him to hang out at bars, and try to move on by picking up as many women as he could. With the help of Ryan Gosling.

Boy.. I don't know what to think after hearing that speech. This movie was like a pat on the back, and a warm hug to me. It said that if I believed in true love, in soulmates, then I should fight. I shouldn't give up. I should always keep trying.

So.. Should I? 

(sighs)

After last night... Well.. 

Hmm. 

I have no interest in harassing Gina. I don't want her to be upset or mad at me. I'm not mad at her, or her mother, or her uncle. I don't want her to think less of me. Her family loves her, and phoning me was their way of acting out of concern on Gina's behalf. I respect that of them. I admire them, even. She is a fantastic human being, who has been through a lot of shitty moments in life.

But.. in my defense, she denied me a face-to-face breakup. She denied me the opportunity to air out my feelings and to change things around with us. To explain to her why I took her for granted, in the last few weeks when we were together.

I'm a great guy. It took reading some of her texts and emails last night for me to really accept that. I'm kind. Smart. Generous. Funny. I'm the type of person that she would be happy to spend the rest of her life with.

But, she doesn't want to. Not because she doesn't think I am these things, she did say that I was a wonderful human being as part of her breakup text; but I think she doesn't want to, because she..

I don't know. I guess the answer to that, is because she gave up on us. Without warning. Without a conversation. Without giving me a chance to give her my anti-breakup speech.

Without giving me the chance to tell her I love her, and to look into her eyes while doing so.

Because that would've been a game-changer, had she allowed that to happen. 

Anyways.. Steven left me a voicemail, saying for me to call him back.

I think I'm going to wait another week, and do exactly that.

I have no fear anymore. I am in love, and I can't help it. I still have those tickets that I can't get a refund for. Who would appreciate these tickets more than her?

So, I'm going to call her uncle Steven, and offer to sell them to him. And he can take full credit. I don't need to be credited.

I just want Gina to be happy.

She deserves it.

And so do I.

---

Big Fish

Last night, was when I met up with Gynger, a woman I've known since October of 2014, so nearly two years now.

Some quick facts:

Age: 38
Children: 1
Pets: 2
Education: English degree
Occupation: none
# of dates we've been on: 0
# of times we've had sex: 2
# of times we've argued: 32,023,120,128,193

Arriving at her place near Whyte, I ended up staying from 6:30pm to 5:30am the next day. A ridiculous amount of time, but then again, I haven't seen Gyngie in over 7 months and we had a lot to catch up on.

One thing I like about this woman, is that our conversations are effortless and fun. I think a big contributor to how well we get along, has more to do with my not feeling any pressure being around this girl.

Why? Well, I'm just not attracted to her. I have no.. interest, in being anything more than friends, however many times she had indicated her feelings to me otherwise.

Its very interesting when I meet people like her in life. Gyngie and I hit things off big time, on OkCupid, during a time when I was absolutely sick of dating and needed a break from it. She was interesting, insightful, emotionally generous, well-read, enjoyed/appreciated writing and loved movies as much as I do. She's also a huge sentimentalist, and is the sort of person to pick up a quill or bang away at a typewriter; then to sit at a keyboard whenever she manages to motivate herself to write. She lives in the past, with feelings of nostalgia towards brighter days, and loftier notions. On her wall, she has pictures of Charlie Chaplin and Aubrey Hepburn. She also has an unhealthy obsession with this guy here:

Norman Reedus, aka "Daryl" from the Walking Dead.

When Gyngie told me she had an English degree, I knew I had to meet her. I was thinking in the back of my mind, before we had even met, that I would really like to be friends with this person, given that she was easy to talk to and could be of use in improving my writing, given her having a degree in the subject.

Plus, I was at a low point in my life. I didn't want to date anymore. I wanted something easy, with no pressure, and Gynger seemed like a perfect fit for me.

It also helped, that she was fat.

Yep. As our first "date" began to approach, Gyngie tried to warn me about her obesity.

But this is (part) of what I said to her first,

"I'm treating dating not as trying to find the woman of my dreams, but as a way of going towards that goal. I believe that every person I meet, only makes me better and more prepared for what comes down the road. Life is short, and I'm not going to spend it dreaming and wishing and writing people off because they don't fit the picture in my head of who I think the right person is for me. I try and keep myself as open as possible."

Translation: I'm not interested in dating right now.

I then ask her if she'd like to meet, given that we were exchanging morbidly obese (sorry) messages online, and thought we would get along well in person. She began prepping me for the meeting.

I'm not going to post her entire message, but here is a choice excerpt,

"I should also say that the weight is something I am working on...but it's not an overnight fix."

Okay, so she at LEAST is trying to lose weight. That's fine. I can respect that. I'm not a shallow person, and I already liked her and found her worthwhile.

Then the bomb drops,

"Well I am over 240 pounds. so I feel like that is leaving us in not a fantastic place."

To which I said,

"Who cares. Where would you like to go?"

I really am not a shallow person, and I meant it.

So, we meet at a Boston Pizza in Sherwood Park where I see this large woman kind of standing between parked cars, at night, obviously feeling self-conscious about herself and.. Well, this is what she asked me next:

"Are you disappointed?"

Me: "yeah, a little bit."

Heh. I have no tact when it comes to being honest sometimes. She asked me straight up, and I told her the truth.

Since then, we have hung out at each other's places. Having conversation. Watching movies. The next month was my birthday, so Gyngie brought over an ice cream cake from Dairy Queen (my favorite) with sparklers and a, hmm, bag of pop rocks. She was, and still is, a sweetheart.

We've exchanged Christmas gifts, birthday gifts in the two years "together" and though I had repeatedly said I did not want to be in a relationship, there were several moments where she pushed the subject onto me, causing all kinds of hurt feelings and drama, etc.

The reason why I didn't want to be in a relationship, is not only because I thought we were sexually incompatible (obviously), but also because I couldn't respect her. In the two years I've known her for, she did not have a job. She was not as much of a writer as she initially claimed to be, and she had borderline personality disorder to go along with periods of depression and anxiety in her life.

I couldn't respect her, because she seemed to have stopped trying. She did not make much of an effort to move forward in life. To get a job. To write. To lose weight like she claimed she wanted to. She was living off of disability, and was content to stay inside and hardly ever go out.

She was.. a hermit, basically, sliding off into a dark abyss.

And I couldn't respect how complacent she was. How she just "gave up" on herself.

But a part of me takes a great sense of satisfaction in improving the lives of others, so I took it upon myself to help her. To cheer her on. When she finally went on a diet months later and hit a particular milestone; I had sex with her as a form of incentive to keep going. Didn't enjoy it. But I knew she would, and that maybe it would propel her along.

How wrong I was.

Instead of sticking to her diet, Gyngie threw everything out the window and blew money on a brand new TV rather than to focus on weight loss. There were these shots she was taking, that costed around $400 a month, that she turned her back on.

Again, I can't respect her.

But, I have to admit, that I do really care for her. She's a sweet, kind soul, but a broken one. A soul that had almost no willpower or faith in herself enough to change. No matter what I threw at her, no matter what advice I gave, no matter how much support I was giving; none of it seemed to make any difference. And that should have been expected, since it doesn't matter how good advice is, if the person getting the advice, has no intention of acting on it.

No desire to change, and only the desire to sabotage herself.

So, I couldn't respect her. And that, to me, is a dealbreaker when it comes to any kind of relationship beyond just being "friends".

Anyways, so.. from around October of 2014 when we first met, to.. I believe August of 2015; I did not date or see anyone else. Gynger was all I had, as far as female companionship went. I really did not want to date. I had a long string of disappointments prior to meeting her.

I was content with this situation. But she was not. She wanted more. And I don't blame her, because we had always gotten along so well together.

But, no matter how many times I told her that I didn't want "more" and that I couldn't respect someone who gave up on themselves, that I didn't find her attractive "in that way" and that she deserved to be with someone who wasn't reluctant about giving affection and love, and appreciation and all such things; I still couldn't erase that bit of hope she kept alive, thinking that we would someday become boyfriend/girlfriend.

And I also, couldn't bring myself to end things with her. One of the assurances I gave her, before we met, was that I wouldn't leave her "holding the bag" and wouldn't run away at first sight. I liked Gyngie. I liked our conversations. I love her spirit. I love who she truly is deep down inside, and I didn't want to hurt her feelings by walking out the door and leaving her behind.

We've never gone out. Ever. We've never eaten at a restaurant, and despite us having first met at Boston Pizza, we didn't go inside. The only other time I saw Gyngie "outside" was when I saw her waiting at a bus stop, as I walked down Whyte Ave. That's it. We've never had a "date".

Last night, in the long hours of conversation we were engaged in, we talked about many subjects. My relationship with Gina and how I planned on letting her read my blog/give her the tickets, to which she said:

"Why bother? She broke up with you through text."

and I said,

"Because I love her. And if there's a 5% chance of getting her back by doing this, then its better than a 0% chance. Right?"

She couldn't argue that logic.

She then told me about the relationship she is now in, with a guy named Stephen who lives in Idaho. A guy she met online while playing poker. He's a garbageman, hasn't had a relationship in 8 years and thinks the world of Gyngie. Apparently, they will be meeting each other early next year, and she has been telling me how great of a relationship they have.

I felt bad for her. It's long distance. It probably won't work out. Not when they meet up, and maybe.. well, maybe he will be thinking the same thing I thought when I first met her.

It sucks. I really want her to be happy. To stop living in isolation. To move on and to write and to have faith and to hope and feel alive and all such things that I kept trying to encourage her towards.

Well, maybe it will work out, but I don't know.

I had to "break up" with Gyngie early this year. The main reason, was because of the relationship I had going with Cassandra, who.. well, was the first truly "bad" person I have ever been involved with.

I'm not going to go into detail about Cass, but she robbed what little faith I had in women. I could not believe that such liars and sociopaths were out there, and yet, she was.

So, in Janurary, feeling really down and bled out; I went to see Gyngie, for the first time in months, with the hope that she will help restore my faith in women again.

She did not. When I told her all the details about Cass, she did not look at me with sympathy, or pity, or concern.

Instead, she laughed. And then made the point of reminding me that "love" was standing in front of me all along, and that I was too stupid to grab onto it.

"Love" meaning, her.

I was disgusted. In that night, with me being at my worst, I felt disconnected from her. She didn't "get" me. She was only looking out for herself. She did not offer me a shoulder to cry on.

And cry, I did. As that evening progressed, I had to fight back tears. I then had it in my head, that I would walk out her door, and never see her again.

.. But in the days that followed, she texted me with an apology. Still, the damage was done.

And a month later, she invited me over.

It was the same night that I was to be meeting Gina for the first time.

The interesting thing about that evening, was that I didn't expect to like Gina. I thought it would be another disappointing date, and that I would go to Gyngie after it was done, and complain about the women I have been meeting.

That did not happen. Instead, as Gina and I hit things off, I..

I felt like there was something there.

I found the courage in myself to tell Gyngie that I wouldn't be coming over, and in the days that followed after meeting Gina; I managed to break it off with us. For good.

.. So.. (sighs) .. this.. blog entry feels sloppy and not very well thought out. I'm not happy with how I'm writing all this, and the only reason I am, is because if Gina will be reading my blog, she is going to be reading this, and she deserves to know the details of this "year and a half" relationship that I for some STUPID reason, decided to mention right after she broke up with me.

I don't know why I even brought that up. But I did. And I have to take responsibility for it. I was never in a "relationship" the way Gina.. you, thought I was. I did not.. want Gyngie, in the way that I wanted you. I did not feel the feelings for her, that I feel for you.

You're.. you're..

(sighs)

I'm not going to even say it. Because I don't think you will say it back to me, Gina. And I don't want to be hurt, or to feel like an idiot.

Though I am.

Anyways..

Yeah.

Eye for an Eye

Yesterday, while browsing around at the flea market, I had approached a corner stall tucked away in an enclosed room, and an interesting thing happened.

I felt the sensation that there was something here, that I was meant to find.

And yet, as I scoured the area as well as I could, I'm not sure if I found what it was. The sensation was so strong, that as the lady who owned the stall was talking to me, I noticed my eyes were shifting around and scanning over her inventory rather than making eye contact like I normally do.

There was *something* here that I had to find.

I'm pretty good at being able to spot interesting and unusual items in these kind of places. Whether it's tucked away under a table, or hidden behind something else; I can usually find something that most people overlook. And it's been proven, too, as I have been to these places with other people and have had to point out the cool stuff they've missed seeing.

So, this particular stall held a lot of spiritual and religious related artifacts / jewelry / stones, etc. There were gongs, singing bowls, beaded bracelets, wind chimes, pyramids, tapestries, etc. All interesting things, for sure.

Again, I didn't know why I felt the sensation that I was overlooking something, but I really examined the place, even so much as poking my head into the back area where the proprietor was sitting (with someone else), just to see if there was something there that wasn't on display.

The first thing that got my attention was this,

A little yard ornament depicting a sleeping boy monk/Buddha with his head on a rock. I thought it would be perfect for my front porch, and it was.

The second thing, that later caught my interest, was this,

A weird little golden tree decorated with blue eyes. Its called a Nazar.

It was a surreal object to come across, as I have never seen anything like it. When I commented on it to Trina, she said it was from Buddhism, an artifact that was intended to repel the "evil" eye, by reflecting it.

My initial hunch was that it had its origin in Africa or Haiti, however, as I found out this morning, the origin of the evil eye and this particular kind of object; goes back to the Old Testament.

"Eat thou not the bread of him that hath an evil eye, neither desire thou his dainty meats." (Proverbs 23:6)

And possibly, even beyond Mesopotamia, over 5,000 years ago.

Greek philosophers and scholars have also made mention of the "evil" eye, with names from Plato to Plutarch and Pliny the Elder.

Was *this* what I was supposed to have found?

I have never heard of a Nazar before, but there was something striking about this object that I had to get it. And as I researched it, I began to learn a lot of interesting things.

The evil eye is thought to be a curse, passed on from one person to the next. It favors those who have light-coloured eyes, such as green, with blue being especially receptive to the effects of the evil eye. Those with blue eyes, are also thought to be the ones who transmit the eye eye, and propagate its effect into the world. This is why Nazars usually are colored blue.

Turkey, at the moment, has a strong belief in this idea.

And Islam, also, has made mention of this concept. Coming from the words of the Prophet Muhhamed himself, when he said, "the influence of an evil eye is a fact..." (Sahih Muslim, book 26, number 5417)

The harmful effect of the evil eye, can include but is not limited to, having bad luck, being susceptible to illness and general moral depravity/depression/etc.

The more I thought about what many would today dismiss as a silly superstition; the more I think there is something to it. Think about whenever we get cut off in traffic, or someone does something we don't like. What do we do? We glare at them. We give them the "eye", and oftentimes, its a menacing one and/or filled with bad intent/disapproval.

So what does "glaring" at someone have to do with any kind of curse? Well, this is my own theory, but I am quite aware and conscious of the effect eyes can have on this world.

Being somewhat hard of hearing for most of my life, I would pay extra attention to body language, facial expressions and eyes, of course. And from experience, I learned that certain people of a certain attitude, happen to have eyes that appear a certain way. Don't ask me to deconstruct exactly how I came across the metric I've developed, but I'm 100% convinced that if you spend enough time to look at someone's eyes, you can gain an intuitive understanding of where they are upon a hierarchy of.. well, something.. goodness, maybe? Moral righteousness? Spiritual development? I really don't know exactly what I am measuring, only that I know I like certain people who have a certain type of "look" that appears in their eyes.

The eyes are the windows to the soul, as they say, and I feel completely in agreement with that.

One thing that I have been noticing lately in myself, even before I came across this Nazar idea; is that I have been softening my gaze whenever a child or toddler makes eye contact. Last week, as I was at the car registry and waiting in line, there was a child looking at me with innocent, curious eyes and I felt compelled to look back and not give it any "cynicism" if that makes any sense. You know when you walk about your daily business, you can't possibly make eye contact with every person you cross paths with, so your eyes will shift around, look through them, possibly look at the them with indifference, and that says something about your thoughts. About where your feelings lie.

It is said that 98% of communication is non-verbal, this includes the unconscious information that a pair of eyes can transmit. It is not simply whether someone is squinting, or has shifty eyes, but rather there is something else that is being communicated that we lack the proper words for. There is *something* else that is being broadcasted whenever you match someone's gaze. Think about the information that comes from shaking hands with someone new. Or being given a hug. A kiss. Or even the way someone smiles. Then consider the opposite of such gestures, and all such actions and thoughts can become transmitted to the psyche of another, with possibly, long term effects. Hence, the "curse" that Nazars are intended to ward off.

According to further belief in the evil eye, it is said that children and those of great attractiveness are most susceptible to its effects. Islam actually suggests that if you admire the appearance of a child, then you must spit upon its face, so as to humble whatever compliment was given. Crazy, huh? There is a second option of course, which involves saying, "God has willed it" or something where an expression of humility is outwardly stated.

So, with all that said, I'm not sure if this is the droid I .. er, artifact I was looking for. I don't know what caused that feeling in my gut to appear, but maybe it was imagined. I don't know. All I know is that I picked up something unusual for only twenty bucks, and learned a great deal from it. And wrote an entire blog entry.

Not a bad bargain. Trina actually had another Nazar that was white instead of gold, and I may go back next week to get it for my mom. Her birthday is coming up, and I'm still trying to figure out what to get her. A series of small gifts and a photobook is what I'm thinking.

We'll see. I don't think I can get George Clooney to pop out from a giant birthday cake and surprise her.

Anyways, new day. Its cloudy out. Looks pretty blah. Later on I'm invited to go to Gynger's place, who I haven't seen since early.. Uh.. January of this year, I think. So, a long time. I plan on eventually writing about her more in detail, since I haven't discussed her on this blog, and I think it's important to do so.

Watch out for the evil eye, people. Spit upon the faces of anyone who you might find attractive.

Especially Clooney. Let him know you've read this post. He'll understand.