YOU'RE TOO LATE: The songs I’ve been listening to in a love/hate letter.

This is where I say I've had enough.  No one should ever feel the way that I feel now. A walking open wound, a trophy display of bruises and I don't believe that I'm getting any better.   Still I HAVE to get better.

 

Walking Open Wound flirts with the paparazzi

 

As for now I'm going to hear the saddest songs and sit alone and wonder how you're making out.

 

But as for me, I wish that I was anywhere with anyone… making out.

 

I'm throwing away the letters that I am writing you. They would never do.  I would never do. NEVER!

So don't be a liar. Don't tell me, "Everything's working," when everything's broken. You smile like a saint but you PLAY like a sailor and your eyes say the joke is on me (that’s what you think).

 

And you are an ass. You lie, and you deny then you fake your calm. You take it all in vain the beauty right beneath your nose. I'm tired of this mess and of dancing with you. So it’s over, yep—it’s over now that this thing between you and me is dying and I'm DYING to get out. 

 

Don't you see that the charade is over?  You win.  All the "Best Deceptions" And "Clever Cover Story" Awards go to you.  You’ve HURT me hard and this will be the last time that I let you.

 

Now the phone is ringing and I know that it's you (and my screen is flashing and it’s guess who?) trying to catch a glimpse of who is winning this game.

 

I’m ignoring the phone (not paying attention to your messages) I'd rather say nothing, I'd rather you'd never hear from me. I know what you're thinking and I know what you're going to say and I know what you're going to try. So just save it this time for somebody who cares and for somebody who's there because I am gone.

 

You’re calling too late—too late to be gracious.  And you do not warrant long good-byes. Uh-huh. You're calling too late.

 

 

….my sincerest gratitude to Chris Carrabba and Richard Cortez

 

A day of beginnings

Only because I refuse to refer to some of them as "endings."

First off, today is the day Mom and Dad, ak.a. Joe and Ricky, left for their big move to Ohio. Not necessarily an ending, right? :-) They're there to start a new life, but I know it's not the end of our wonderful friendship. I'm going to miss them, yes, but I am soooo happy for them.

I should dedicate a nice blog to them.

Had dinner with RP before meeting at LL's with the rest of the dance team. AM's back--yay! I was delighted to see her join our meeting after a long hiatus.  We're jumpstarting the launch of Streak with a website, an audition and preparations for our first official gig scheduled on August 7th.

Back to RP. The more I get to know him, the more I like him.  I was glad we were able to take some time to meet up since we rarely ever get to hang out and converse without being intoxicated.  Hehe.  We had Mexican and it was his treat. How nice.

Went to the gym after I got home because I consumed waaay too much food today. From that big italian lunch to celebrate a co-worker's birthday and more carbs and fat at Salsa y Salsa. I plan on going to Fire Island this weekend and I simply CANNOT look bloated! Vanity, vanity.

Went online after the gym and got am IM from MS.  He said he understands we aren't speaking, but he was concerned about BC. First of all, I'm so sick of BC being self-destructive. He knows what he's doing to himself, clinging to a man who feels nothing for him and is taking advantage of that and now doing drugs because he can't deal just being Dom's friend.  What a crock of shit! I'm sick of it. Sick, sick, sick!  BC seems to like it when he gets his friends to feel sorry for him. I'm tired of being there for him when he refuses to take care of himself. I'm not his mother, so that's that!

More importantly, I don't care to speak to MS. After that Fire Island incident, I have lost the desire to establish any form of contact with him. I had asked Baby Sis to collect my stuff from MS's apartment because I simply do not want to see him and have to speak to him. Call me evasive, but unlike BC, I refuse to be someone's emotional doormat.

I ignored MP's message and blocked his screennames from my chat list.  That's the end of it for now.  I was compelled to compose a blog because of this.  I compiled a medley of some pertinent song lyrics into what I call a love/hate letter.  I feel better now. Door closed. No more blogs about MS.

I've officially begun to move on.

Sperm, Interrupted.

A friend sent me a link to this ad that was aired in Europe for the Oslo Gay Pride Festival that took place last month.

I seriously had to pick my (bubbly but super-duper firm) butt off the office floor from laughing so hard!

Here's a link if you're curious to see it. Go ahead and click on the thumbnail.

"Dude, where's my egg?"

P.S. Not that I'm promoting unsafe sex or anything, but this definitely took me by surprise. My apologies in advance for those who might find this offensive.

P.P.S. GET THE HELL OVER IT!

P.P.P.S  (July 20th) Unfortunately, some people didn't get it. After the proud sperm beats the rest at the race to get to the egg, he realizes that there is no egg -- he's in another man's rectal cavity. Kapeesh?  Jeez people, do I have to spell it out for you?!? 

zombie therapy

Went along with my good friend, ADL, to see George Romero's Land of the Dead and I'm so surprised to be in such a good mood.  Nothing like some good ol' rotting zombies tearin' up people's limbs and guts to lift one's spirits.

At the rate I'd been going the past week or so, all I can say is beggars can't be choosers. Hehe.

P.S. I'm hungry.

YOU WIN! Please be happy now.

Good move.  You totally caught me off guard today and I want to be the one to say, "Congrats! You've won." 

One great thing I like about you is how you continue to amaze me.  I NEVER would have thought you were capable.  My compliments to your impeccable timing as usual.  You couldn't have chosen a better time than to do it in front of all our friends this afternoon.  Serves me right for underestimating you.

So as I light a cigarette to toast your victory, I insist that you revel in the pain and the misery that I know I would never have (and I never will) cause you under any circumstance.

I want the satisfaction you're feeling from your sheer insensitivity to linger for as long as possible:  joy is the best possible parting gift I can give someone I'm now ashamed to say I once loved more than myself.

Best wishes --

Busy bee takes a day off...

Jones Beach this morning: I know I need a pedicure, so shut up!

Was a pretty enough day to head out to the beach and get some sun. Yay!  I was supposed to go with my friends today, but I didn't really make that much effort to wake them up this morning -- we were, after all, out until at least 4 am --  and we were supposed to meet at 7 am.

It played out well because I didn't realize until I got there how much I needed some alone time. True, I've had a lot of free time since graduation day, but I haven't really had time to be alone and relax.  I've spread myself just as thinly as I usually did when I was in school.

Funny how some of us manage to stay so busy regardless of what our priorities are.