Thursday, March 20, 2014

On cold, clear nights...

I may have been drinking a few fingers of Disaronno. I chased a glass of wine with them after walking along Boundary road. The city skyline looks amazing at sunset. Especially on cold nights, when the air is crispy and you can see how hard the wind picks up the waves on the inlet. Stanley park looks like an island and all my thoughts wander into where the clouds meet the ocean next to it.         This evening I've been taken away to remember past loves.  Being currently involved with someone you deeply appreciate makes you think the big thoughts... I guess.

Let just step backwards a second here. Bass player on the cruise was one of the funnest people I've spent my time with. Hands down. Not necessarily fun as in we did a lot of things, we didn't do much of anything, really. Aside from hanging out in his room, drinking beer and shooting the shit. But fuck, did he make me laugh. I remember smiling so hard sometimes, I wondered if anyone could make me feel this happy.                                                  He did help me find myself after a tough break up and I'll never really be able to fully appreciate the time we had until I'm like 80 yrs old, watching my grandbabies have babies and wistfully thinking about their future love life and all the wonderful and horrible people they will meet along their journey.      I think all the men who made an impact on me, in some way (it doesn't have to be positive here...)   will manifest themselves in some form or another in my brain. And I know from time to time, it's ok to think about them , and to let them sit there for a bit.

Currently, stripes is a consistent figure in my life and I've grown quite fond of him (as you may have guessed from my previous post...)  but I've noticed more intense moments with him.   His eyes are so dark, and intense          and he just stares at me sometimes. Like he can see into my soul and he's acknowledging it an holding onto his with his gazing rich brown irises. His face can be so serious but all I ever have the urge to do is smile at him
                            and hug him
                                        and kiss his face
                                                          and make him smile.   He acts like he may not want to , but I know he's just craving someone to coerce his lips to purse, even if all he can muster is a slight upward curve of the right corner of his mouth.  Fuck. I love it when he does that.                       I really should't, but I've grown so attracted to him, that there's this primal instinct that warns me not to get too close, even though it's already happened. I wish I could curb this unworthy feeling... this feeling of contempt for his dashing looks and endearing awkwardness. Maybe contempt isn't the right word, but I know if what he's doing works for me, how many other eligible women are chasing after his heart...      In the end, it's none of my concern.   He is amazing. No doubt about it.   He is aware of my fragile nature, of my indecisiveness, my lack of organizational skills, need for space (and alone time), and my insecurities.  And with all these in mind, he wants to be with me. He wants to hold onto my shoulders or waist as we walk down the street, he is protective of me out in public and crowded places, he enjoys being "quiet" with me at home which means cooking dinner, followed by a walk, followed by long hours of talking, followed by amazing sex, and finally   ,  eventually,    sleep.                             He wants to hug me from behind when I'm cooking dinner and enticingly kisses my neck and cheek, he likes hanging up my coat for me, he unobtrusively questions my moves in life, and never, NOT ONCE, has shown a shred of dishonesty. I like that. I like all of that, very much. I like him. Very much.



Sunday, February 2, 2014

The Inspiration

It always comes without warning. Just one of those things that happens when you least expect it, and thats oddly the time when you desperately need it.     (Or when you decide two weeks earlier joining a dating website would be a great idea and a  helpful nudge from your best friend totally throws you into a world where subtlety does not pay off and men solicit you for quirky responses from message like "Alright, I totally have a thing for you eyes". ugh.)     When the universe knows your heart is crying for something or someone to help you realize your potential  =  Potential you may have known all along, but required a push outside of yourself to get it out.      
                                                                          And that must have been the moment I saw his smile.

That moment.          right      there    . When my eyes were touring the room and I managed to stumbled upon his and drunkenly decided to stop and smile at him, and wait for one in return.
       And he did.                  And I loved every fucking second of it.         I'll admit, there was a brief rush thinking that the man who I smiled at would just look away, and all that my heart, my creativity, my urges;  all that they desired, would be pushed aside and brushed over.        I was already in love. I didn't know him,      I didn't need to know him.    I just needed that smile. That catapulted me into the evening, and into the weeks to followed.    

You must have assumed: I was curious enough to solicit a friend for a number and seem to have stumbled upon someone who is equally as hungry for a passionate and inspiring love.  Maybe he wouldn't call it love. Maybe other people wouldn't see it as love (I'm sorry but it's pretty obvious I'm mad about him.....)  but I know just by the way he looks at me, how he makes me feel, and how damn easy it is for him to make me smile; that it has to be.            This amazing, inspiring person sums up all that I think is good and wonderful in a human being; he is kind, positive, loyal, honest and  above all: passionate. And he makes me want to be better; to do better, to go out and grab what I want.     Like all I've ever needed to do was to just fucking go for it.           and so here I am.              re-thinking my moves in life.    slowly toying with the idea that he'll be involved in it somehow. that would be nice... magical really.
       But for now, he is my inspiration.


Monday, January 20, 2014

You're the best

I probably just ate half my weight in brownies, soaking in a warm bath for and hour and a half watching Breakfast at Tiffany's. Why is Holly so god-damned blind?! Paul is like the best thing for her. He cares about her and all her stupid quirky ways, all the stupid things she thinks a woman needs to do to get ahead in life.   Shit, it seems being a woman in the early 1900's didn't mean educating yourself, learning how to take care of yourself, teach yourself how to earn an income and love yourself. no, I think self-value in that era really meant finding a rich man who would take care of you so you could fuck and party and never have to lift your pretty little fingers.  And here is this penniless writer, who has nothing but his love to offer her, and she is so damn reluctant.  Fuck that chick.
     Great movie though.

To be honest, I should inform you that most days I begin writing an entry and often times don't finish for another week. I feel like I'm cheating in a way. Cheating myself for spacing the paragraphs with life, for allowing myself a pause between thoughts and the chance to really be sure of wanting to publish something onto the internet.  But, I suppose when it's all put together in a neat, nice little post, nobody but me will know.

and I suppose this will be it for tonight.


Tuesday, January 14, 2014

I couldn't even spell his name

Well I'm at it again. I told myself I would have the best run and work out when I got home.
                 But all I did was make dinner and now I'm sipping on a glass of sauvignon blanc.  I'm listening to a somewhat depressing mix of singer-songwriters with songs being played mostly on banjo and acoustic guitar with tunes ranging from the saddest of love songs to the seemingly happy-go-lucky diddles reminiscent of an irish dance hall.  The fiddles help.     And I suppose now, its kind of a waiting game. I mean, it seems like things might be lining up. I'm making a point of meeting new people and being social, and it's tricky, believe me.   It's just to easy most days to just stay in, to have a couple glasses by myself, watch a movie, play some music.  But I've figured in the end, it won't get easier if I keep doing the same thing.

Usually my titles relate to something that's happening in my life, or perhaps a song I'm in love with at the time. But I think today, I won't write to you about everything... except maybe this one thing that was pretty awesome and cute and fun.

Saturday night I decided to cook my friends a vegan dinner. Only one of them is animal-products free but I figure we would all be vegan for one evening. It took me quite awhile to prepare the meal, I'd guess close to and hour, maybe and hour and twenty minutes. JP and MP both brought wine over and ended up cleaning my dishes for me. (a really crappy job, but super nice of them anyway...)  We were slightly stumbling on what to do afterwards, and I hastily encouraged we go out for drinks. MP was suggesting somewhere super close, only about a five minute drive. But, I NEVER GO OUT! I didn't want to hit up some old bar five minutes from where I lived. nuh-huh. I needed to go closer to where I might get a really interesting beverage... somewhere I could potentially oggle some members of the opposite sex. and so we headed to Falconetti's on the Drive.                                                                                               NOW, let me get something straight. I  am single, AND that normally means I can act all "yea, fuck guys! I'll knit and make cards and run and drink all I want, 'cause I don't need NO MAN."     but ,                 to be honest...                          nothing beats good cuddle at the end of the day and the reassurance that there is someone who will drink beers with you mid-week and have underwear parties and watch old youtube videos and create stories that have no meaning from some stupid thing one of you made up and then make out until we pass out. yea.                                                                                                                                                                       That sounds really nice.  

So what do I do? I get drunk and hit on men. I don't even have the damn balls to ask for their numbers myself! GODDAMNIT! But I have the drunken nerve to hug them when leaving a party even though I hardly know them, and probably freak them the FUCK out.
 So I solicited my manfriend to help a sista out.... Yea. JP got me his number.          only time will tell if this bold move will pay off..... only time.