Regina Noctis

For the last two weeks, we’ve been told over and over that New Year’s Eve, we’d be slammed at work. They were predicting it would be the worst night we’ve had all year. Pretty impressive, since we’ve been working our asses off these last few months. We got told tonight that we’ve processed over 700 files in the last four weeks alone.

We were out at 9:30 tonight, despite the dire predictions.

And I made no plans, since we were supposed to be so busy tonight.

Guess I’m hanging around the apartment. Reading, or writing, or some such. I wouldn’t have been able to get my usual New Year’s peck on the cheek from my pet fag anyway, since he’s up in Seattle.

Maybe at midnight, I’ll break out the rest of the vodka that I took to work, in case we were working through midnight. Since we didn’t, we drank shots of vodka in the parking lot before heading home. There’s still a sizable amount of vodka left. More than enough for one more shot to toast the new year.

It was rather fun, getting slightly tipsy out in the parking lot with a select few of my coworkers. If they hadn’t had some plans and itching to go off and do them, I’d have quite merrily gotten them plastered right there in the middle of the First American lot.

Happy New Year, everyone.

And may it be a damn sight better than the last one.

My Spirit Animal is the Raven!

Cycle of Power: Winter Solstice

Aspects: Magick, Shapeshifting and Creation
Click here
to discover your spirit animal!

This test made by Celtic_Shamanes

Number two was the cat.

I think I can deal with either. :D

I think I need to start repeating something to myself. Like a mantra, until I get it through my damn thick head. Get it through to my emotions.

I was talking on the phone with Lee again tonight. Same big dopey grin after we got done talking. Same realization that I’ve got it bad, and it’s only getting more so.

So…

Lee’s a wonderful friend, that’s all he’s interested in, and don’t you fuck it up.

Lee’s a wonderful friend, that’s all he’s interested in, and don’t you fuck it up.

Lee’s a wonderful friend, that’s all he’s interested in, and don’t you fuck it up.

Lee’s a wonderful friend, that’s all he’s interested in, and don’t you fuck it up.

Lee’s a wonderful friend, that’s all he’s interested in, and don’t you fuck it up.

Lee’s a wonderful friend, that’s all he’s interested in, and don’t you fuck it up.

Lee’s a wonderful friend, that’s all he’s interested in, and don’t you fuck it up.

Lee’s a wonderful friend, that’s all he’s interested in, and don’t you fuck it up.

Lee’s a wonderful friend, that’s all he’s interested in, and don’t you fuck it up.

Lee’s a wonderful friend, that’s all he’s interested in, and don’t you fuck it up.

Lee’s a wonderful friend, that’s all he’s interested in, and don’t you fuck it up.

Lee’s a wonderful friend, that’s all he’s interested in, and don’t you fuck it up.

Lee’s a wonderful friend, that’s all he’s interested in, and don’t you fuck it up.

Lee’s a wonderful friend, that’s all he’s interested in, and don’t you fuck it up.

Lee’s a wonderful friend, that’s all he’s interested in, and don’t you fuck it up.

I’m going to go someplace and keep telling myself this. Maybe it will actually stick for once.

At least if I have to be in the middle of the process of seriously falling in love again, despite all my intentions to not do so, I can use it to fuel some of the things I’m writing.

I’m not too good at fighting my feelings to a standstill, am I?

But at least I have my writing as an outlet for them. I can use that to keep it from affecting, and possibly fucking up, my friendship with Lee.

It’ll go away, eventually, at least. All unrequited passions eventually do.

Carol, Andrew, and their girlfriend Angela took me out for dinner and a movie tonight. Mongolian barbecue for dinner, and if they could combine the restaurant we went to with the one I normally go to, it would be the perfect Mongolian barbecue restaurant.

After that, we went to see the last showing of Lord of the Rings for the day. We almost got creamed by a semi with an inattentive driver, and during the maneuvers to keep us all in one piece, I was the only casualty, luckily. I broke a nail. lol

So, luck and Andrew’s driving were on our side on the way to the theater. It just resulted in something minorly irritating for me, since not having that nail slows down my typing a LOT. All in all, considering how near the miss was, we could all have been in serious trouble.

And it was worth it to see Lord of the Rings. Goddess, what a sexy, sexy movie!

I’m going to have to orchestrate another trip to see it sometime soon.

I am 77% evil.


Wow! I’m almost pure evil! Sin is my way of life. If there is a hell I have packed my bags for the trip.

Are you evil? find out at Hilowitz.com

This comes as a shock to no one, I’m sure. Unless you really have been buying the act I’ve used to cover up my employment with Evil People, Inc. in the Department of Vindictive Bitchiness and Manipulation. ;)

Take the What Should Your New Year’s Resolution Be? Quiz

A rather amusing resolution for someone who’s spent more of her life celibate than sexual. lol

Okay, so I know for a fact now that Lee has read this journal. At least a sizable chunk of it, if not all. Up until now, I never gave it a second thought that someone I knew might be reading what I’d written about them here. And in this case, it’s certainly not like I’ve written anything negative. For the first time, though, I’ve got a case of nerves about someone seeing all of this. I even had a brief consideration… too late, of course, since he’d already been reading for a while before he mentioned to me that he was reading… of going through quickly and making a whole bunch of things “private” or “friends only.” Heh. So much for all the stuff I was spouting last time about “I am who I am and I think and feel how I think and feel,” huh? I didn’t actually make any of those changes, but I seriously thought about it for a while.

It never is easy to take those first moments when, in whatever way it happens, someone you’ve come to like a whole hell of a lot finds out that you’re running around with a huge crush on ‘em. There’s always that case of nerves and fear of rejection. I probably shouldn’t even be worrying about it. He read this. He knows I know that he’s not interested, and I’m trying to keep it all in check. And when he went home for the day from work and we ended the day’s chatter, he wasn’t distant or anything. The same wonderful friend as always, and said he hoped he’d see me again tomorrow so we’d get the chance to talk some more. So, rationally, I have no cause to be sitting here with this huge case of nerves that I’ve somehow just screwed up this friendship.

But then, I never claimed that I was too good at this rationality business.

And, of course, I’ll make every effort to be there to talk with him tomorrow, cause I’m just not strong enough to put distance between us until I beat this thing into submission. If I can be there, I’ll be there, and if he’s not too busy with work to talk, I’ll quite merrily talk.

I’m hopeless. lol

I was expecting to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day alone, since work interfered with the possibility of a trip to see the family. I figured all my friends would be busy celebrating with their families, out of town, or both.

Once I got home and checked email, I discovered that Locke had sent me an e-card. Just as I did when MEDancer sent me an e-card, I got all choked up. Doesn’t take much to make me feel good in a case like this. Just a little e-card, something free and quick and easy, can accomplish a lot. Just something that shows that someone thought of me. In many ways, it’s better than actually buying me a gift, since there’s no money involved. I’ve never been comfortable with anyone buying me something (not that it ever seems to stop anyone from spending money on me anyway.) But a gift that someone made, or even just a little e-card, something that says that someone thought of me, can give me a huge grin for hours and maybe even get a few tears out of me.

Thank you, Locke! :)

When I got home from work on Christmas Eve, I spotted a couple LJ entries by sml977 saying that she was home and anyone who wanted to come over, give her a call. I called, and got to spend several hours talking with her, and just generally enjoying the evening. It was a good time. I love spending time talking with her, no matter what we’re talking about. And it was a chance for both of us to vent about some things. I bet she’s tired of listening to me gripe about work after that.

I got to hit her with stories from the old Bozo Squad days, and stories of the Japanese Princess from Salem and her doings. I forgot how much I love to tell those stories, even the ones that included my stupidities. They’re fun stories, and she is the only one I’ve ever told them to who recognized that, despite how insane Bozo Squadding was, there was some fun to it, too.

Then the Dreamsis got home, and regaled us with stories about Christmas among Camille’s family. Dreamy took Sylvan’s place as the Camille Christmas guest.

And I say that, if she took my silly Sylvan’s place once, she can be the substitute for my pet fag. I need SOMEone to argue with about sangria, and the more I think about it, the more I think we should get a group of us together and do another sangria night. Besides, I know that the sis o’ my dreams can hold her booze.

I got another surprise Christmas Eve. In addition to not having to spend it on my own, I wasn’t going to have to spend Christmas Day on my own. Jared, one of my co-workers, found out that I was just going to hang out alone at the apartment and maybe get some writing done. He checked with his folks, and then invited me to his family’s Christmas gathering. He told me not to worry about bringing anything in the way of a gift or twenty (there were a lot of people) since they didn’t have gifts for me, but I could have company on Christmas Day and join them for dinner.

So, on Christmas Day, I got up and talked with my mom and grandmother for an hour and a half, then headed over to join the party. I got there about two hours late, which was what I’d planned. They start the party at noon with a brunch, and I’ve never been a fan of breakfast foods.

Jared’s family is extremely right-wing and Christian. I am neither, but I was warned about it. I carefully avoided starting any conversations that could turn into a row. As long as they and I mutually avoided political or religious subjects, we got along great. The closest we came to a political discussion… and we were in agreement throughout it… was when Jared’s NRA uncle and I got onto the subject of the way smokers are, in some ways, rather persecuted anymore. He’d heard me explain to one of Jared’s younger brothers that my disappearance earlier was so I could step outside for a smoke, and then we were off. He’d read somewhere that smokers are one of the most heavily persecuted minorities, and though he wasn’t a smoker, he was in complete agreement with that statement. His father is a smoker, and had gotten the only two places where he could go and be comfortable and smoke and have some degree of a social life outside the home and away from the family. He’d meet several of his friends for brunch once a week, talk, and smoke at one restaurant in particular. The restaurant’s owner, a smoker herself, had the place designed with segregating the smokers as much as possible in the hope that the Politically Correct crew of the area would leave them alone. There wasn’t even a connecting door to the main part of the restaurant. If you wanted to get to the smoking area, you had to go outside the restaurant, around back, and in through a separate door. The room itself was heavily ventilated, and had air purifies stationed in it to remove a good deal of the smoke. But a group of non-smokers of a particular stripe, the ones that feel that their values should be forced on everyone, complained and complained about it anyway. The place had to shut down the smoking section.

I got to talk with Jared’s fiance for a while as well. I discovered that she is working toward something I once wanted to do… she plans to go into special effects for movies, stage, and TV. I remember wanting to do that myself, before I got sidetracked into animation instead. We had a great time talking about that. I was glad we had the chance to talk. We never said a word at the company Christmas party. But I was right, I like Karen. I figured I would. And she likes my “threat” to teach her man how to really cook if he and I ever have the time to arrange a regular “class.”

Dinner was served, eventually. It was made up pretty much entirely of things that I normally am not fond of. Ham, which I’ve never liked. Scalloped potatoes, which I can tolerate on occasion but don’t really like. Green beans, which I’ve only ever found edible when my mom cooks them one particular way.

But the family member who cooked them really knew what he was doing. I can see why Karen told me that the man was quite a gourmet chef. I loved it all. And dessert was simple, but delicious. Sylvan wouldn’t have liked it, since it involved peaches, but it was quite yummy. Half a peach, with a raspberry in the middle where the pit was, two scoops of a very rich vanilla ice cream (I wish I knew what brand, it was especially good vanilla), and a raspberry-black currant sauce.

There were truly authentic margaritas to go with things. In the States, the orange flavoring is usually Triple Sec. There’s an 80 proof orange liqueur that is used in Mexico, something that isn’t marketed here. The family has a friend who lives down south, and they regularly convince him to cross the border, buy the stuff, and ship it to them. I forgot how much I like the genuine article when it comes to margaritas. I’m used to the way they’re made here anymore, and the flavor is very different. I’m not fond of US-style margaritas.

Then I got a surprise at the party. Despite Jared telling me that they didn’t have presents for me, they gave me presents! I guess when Jared checked in with his mom and cleared it with her, she decided it just wasn’t right for someone to get nothing on Christmas, so she ran out and bought me a little something. A change purse, with an attached key ring. It’s in my purse now, since my wallet’s change purse tends to fall open. I’d reached the point where I just gave up on putting any change in my wallet, and dumped it in the bottom of my purse. It wound up there anyway. So, it was actually something I needed.

Then Jared’s grandfather gave me four little standup calendars. He makes them, and they’re the perfect size to fit on my desk at work and my computer desk here at home. Real handy for me too, since I generally can’t remember what day of the week it is, much less what the date is.

I finally headed home around 9pm, after about seven hours with the Buckley family. They are really good people. I enjoyed them a lot. And it seems that they liked me, or so Jared told me when I thanked him again today for the invitation.

I have to remember to stop by the store and pick up a thank you card to send to them.

Tonight was supposed to be very busy. And it was, actually. Calling count said 62 files for the night, and we actually wound up with 50. Not as bad as we first thought, but 50 is still a lot of files. I figured that we’d be there until 1 or 2 in the morning, at the least.

We jammed tonight. With 50 files, we were done at 11. Not bad, considering 30 to 35, thereabouts, normally takes us until midnight or midnight thirty.

And Sarah announced tonight that on New Year’s Eve, since we have to work and it’s expected to be an extremely busy night, she’s going to bring booze. So am I. The managers will be long gone, no matter how busy it is. They don’t sacrifice holidays, even though we’re expected to. So, if we’re still there at midnight (as is extremely likely) then we’re breaking out the booze and toasting in the New Year.

Should be fun getting our little Christian boy. who equates drinking with sin, to try a bit of booze. Maybe I’ll do what I’ve been threatening and bring in a tape measure to scare him with. See if that stops the Dirk Diggler nonsense. Though I’m not sure that I want to find out what Joe is like when drunk. He makes enough noise as it is. Something tells me he’d be one of those annoying talkative drunks, seeing as how he talks nearly nonstop as it is. But hey, maybe he’ll forget to demand that we call him Dirk for one night, and that would be a Good Thing.

After I got home, it suddenly occurred to me that I gave Lee the URL to this journal. And then I went and ranted about him. Some days, I’m not the sharpest pencil in the box. Oh well, if he’s read it, he’s read it. And if he hasn’t, he may one of these days. I dislike making entries private, so I’m not going to start. I am who I am, I feel and think how I feel and think, and that’s how it is. C’est la vie.

Well, after a little while, I started thinking, “So what if there’s no message on the voicemail. Maybe when it went to voicemail, he hung up rather than leave a message.”

So I called at 9. He hadn’t called, just been planning to do it a little later in case I was out and about.

We talked from 9 until 4 in the morning, with one short break around midnight.

I’m wandering into serious crush territory again. And I’m too stupid to take my own advice and back the fuck off. He’s not interested, and I’m well aware of that. Have been for a long time now. A year, in fact. I need to get my idiotic feelings under control again. I don’t want a repeat of last year. It’s not fair to me to go through that, even though it’s all at my own instigation. And it’s not fair to Lee to hit him upside the head with an unwanted crush again.

I realized that I should probably back off from even talking to him at all tonight, when he was jokingly asking about a couple friends of mine. Women I’ve mentioned to him when recounting amusing stories. It’s been a running joke to ask about whether they miss him, the man of their destiny, do they think about him, etc.

I caught myself wanting to say, “Yeah, well, what about me? What am I, beneath notice?” And not in a joking way, either. I reined that in real quick. I know he was joking around. That reaction was totally inappropriate, and I managed to get control of my mouth before it went haring off to follow that impulse.

I need emotion surgery. Just remove the capacity to develop crushes, fall in love, etc, and life will be SO much more smooth. Especially since I can’t seem to keep those reactions under any kind of control. Even when I know ahead of time that it wouldn’t be welcome if he knew, and would end in another fun little rejection scene, like last year.

I’m trying, like I said in my entry about this on Friday night/Saturday morning, to not go there. But I’m getting dragged along despite all my kicking and fighting it. It’d be obvious to anyone who saw me after we hung up the phone, saw the big dopey grin I had right up until the thought occurred to me, “You’re getting it bad.”

I should just avoid contact with him until I get a grip. And I know that I’m not going to do that, because I may be strong in some ways, but in this one I’m not.

So much for not going there, really. I’m already there. About all I can do now is damage control. Keep it from affecting how I act when I DO talk to him. Keep from burdening him with it all, until I can get my head straightened out. Dig in my heels and protect him from something that’s only going to make him uncomfortable at best, anyway. It is so fucking unfair to drop my inability to have any control of myself on his lap. It’s not his problem. It’s mine.

Dammit.

Carol’s in town, so we went out to Crepe Danielle for dinner. We got the two crepes we usually get, the coq au van crepe and the crepe Danielle, and split them half for half. We reminisced about the last 15 years since we met. Hard to believe it’s been that long. And I did a fair job on the hard cider.

After dinner, Carol suggested that we go for a drive and look at Christmas lights, but Lee said he’d call so I just had her drop me at home. I know at least he didn’t call while I was out. There was no message on the voicemail.

It’s probably a good bet that he won’t call, really. He’s caught the cold that’s going around, and he has probably medicated himself and fallen over. But hey, I try and make good on my promises, and I said I’d be here, so here I am.

Besides, while I’m in a better mood about Christmas since getting Dancer’s e-card, I’m not sure I’m into the Christmas spirit enough to drive around and look at lights.

*sighs* I don’t want to have to go to work tomorrow.

Oh well, no help for it. That’s how it goes.

I’m going to go enjoy being tipsy from hard cider now. Maybe see what it does to my writing since I’m about due to write more on the PH novels.

Despite my best intentions, I was feeling a little sorry for myself about the way this holiday is working out. Christmas has always been really special to me. Not because of the “traditional” Christmas values everyone knows. Because of the family traditions. My family’s a mostly irreligious bunch, so it was never about the traditional things. And though of course there was gift giving, we managed to keep it from feeling like an overly-commercialized holiday. Sure there were occasional bad ones. With the 20-30 people all gathered in one small house, it was hard not to have some kind of personality conflict at some point. But it’s always held a hell of a lot of meaning for me. So, the fact that I have to work through it instead of be with my family has been making me rather sad despite my determination to not go there.

That was right up until I opened my email, and found the little e-card from MEDancer.

I’m such a cheeseball sometimes. I’m sitting here grinning from ear to ear now, and crying, cause I’m happy. All sentimental over an e-card.

I love you, Dancer! Thank you!

I can’t believe Christmas is almost here. And I can’t believe that First American is making us work on both Christmas Eve and New Year’s Eve.

My grandma’s old and ill. She spends most of her days these days lying on the couch, so still she doesn’t even look like she’s breathing. Mom goes in regularly to check and see if she’s still alive.

Grandma’s had heart problems for a while, and at least three heart attacks that I’m aware of. This could be the last Christmas she’s around for. My boss knows this.

Have to work anyway, and no time off allowed other than Christmas Day during the last two weeks of the year.

I’ve been avoiding even thinking about how close Christmas is. There is no Christmas spirit to be found here at this apartment. I’ve even avoided going out after dark when possible, so as to avoid Christmas lights on houses and shops. I’d rather not think about spending Christmas Eve working, when that is the time my family has always celebrated. Christmas Day was only special to the kids, really, since that’s when they’d find the gifts Santa brought for them. Christmas Day was just a nice extra day off from work or school once I was beyond Santa age. So having it off now is not a big deal. Working Christmas Eve, THAT is a big deal.

Oh well, I’m going back to not thinking about Christmas around the corner. I’d rather not work myself into another bout of irritation with the job, when I’ve spent much of today in a relatively good mood.

…and already thinking about going back to sleep.

I will say this, though. Sleeping on that feeling I had last night, the one that I feel I’ve finally turned the corner on dealing with Pete leaving me, has only made it more definite. This isn’t one of the short-lived temporary reprieves I’ve managed. They never lasted more than a couple hours, and it’s been over 24 now since it stopped hurting.

Makes me want to get everyone together and go to El Burro to get plastered on sangria like we did about the time I turned the corner after the insanity of the Jeff thing.

Wouldn’t be the same without Sylvan and Wolfie though. I’d need Sylvan there, at the very least, to argue jokingly with about who gets the last of the sangria, and then help me to drink everyone else’s when they can’t finish, like last time.

Maybe I can convince Dreamy to play my adorable pet fag for the night, assuming I can get everyone together to do this anytime soon.

It’s been far too long since we did a sangria night. The last time was when Sylvan, Liggy, Great Harlequin, and I went to see Mama Mia.

Well, anyhow, at the very least, whether it’s sangria night or not, feeling better is cause to go do something. I’m off to call people and see if I can get something together sometime in the next few weeks. I’m not going to expect us to be able to do it soon, since it’s the holiday season and all. Maybe sometime after the first of the year, though.

Hmmmm… maybe drag Camille to the Outback again. We haven’t done that in ages, and that would be fun.

I swear, I never fucking learn. Never. Not when it comes to this.

I don’t need this internal struggle going on. There’s enough else on my plate for me to deal with. I’ve always been feel-first-think-later. And that’s just put the cherry on my sundae this time. Or maybe that should be “again” instead of “this time.” Yeah, that’s more appropriate.

It was just a bit over a year ago that I started this journal. December 11 of last year, though the first post didn’t actually make it in until the 12th. I started it because of a huge internal conflict. I’m dealing with something similar now. Amazing how things come full circle.

Of course, at the time, I was a lot more reticent about the exact nature of that conflict. I talked about one half of it, but not the other. Not for a little while, anyway. Some things I need to work out in my head before I work them out in writing.

So, last year’s conflict that convinced me I needed someplace to rant was that I’d developed some very strong feelings for two different men. As if that wasn’t enough of a problem, that conflicted also with my sense of loyalty. My loyalty goes to silly extremes sometimes… like feelings of guilt in a situation like that. I feel like I’m cheating on someone, somehow, even though it’s only a couple strong crushes that we’re talking about. Rationally, I know that I’m not cheating on anyone if I’m not actually with anyone. Not that rationality ever stops how I feel. I’ve always been ruled more by emotions, and that’s often more a curse than a blessing.

It doesn’t help, being a child of addiction, and having had my own addiction as well. Addicts and the households of addicts learn to speak in and listen for subtext in everything that’s said. If there isn’t actually any, we’ll invent some to fill the space, without even knowing that we’re inventing. This is true of most, if not all, children of addicts. It’s certainly true of me. And what I say is often full of subtextual meanings, thoughts, feelings, and desires. After growing up in a household where that was the normal means of communication (what communication there was,) I assume that everyone is getting all the layers of subtextual meaning that’s there. The conversations where the subtext was heavy enough, people sometimes did and that just fed the conviction that I was fully understood, and that I was understanding what I was told in response. Often, even the subtle subtext is close enough to what the actual conversation is that a reply can seem to answer the subtext when it doesn’t actually. This becomes even stronger when I, trained to listen for subtext, read subtext into something that has none.

I ran headfirst into that wall last year, with one of the guys I had a crush on. The one I ranted about exclusively in the beginning, as a matter of fact. Lee. I kept doing the “he said that, so it must mean this!” thing that goes hand in hand with having learned to deal with subtextual meanings as the basis of communication. I read into it what I wanted to see, not what he actually meant, and did it so well that I convinced myself he’d pretty much said what it was I wanted him to say. I’ve gotten pretty good at not looking for subtext in everything, but that goes right out the window when my emotions get involved. And because Lee is a far, far more private person than I am, there was lots of room to read subtext in.

I didn’t help matters. I retreated into speaking with a lot of those hidden subtextual meanings during the beginning. It was largely a defense mechanism, since I don’t generally develop such a strong attraction to anyone in that short a space of time. I’m usually one of those who doesn’t get attracted to someone unless I’ve known them and been friends with them for some time. It threw me, and I put up a wall of subtext without even thinking about it. I would say one thing, but my rapidly developing crush was the underlying thing to much of what I said. That way I could “tell” him about it without having an immediate rejection. I wound up setting myself up to get hurt later on down the road, though I didn’t see it then. Good ol’ hindsight.

I look back on the entries from last year, knowing what I know now about these things, and shake my head at what an idiot I was.

I noticed how fast I was developing strong feelings for Lee, and I tried to say something about it, in my roundabout subtextual way. I had gotten a little panicked by it, even. I was over the blowup with Jeff, but I wasn’t past the fear of getting hurt again yet. The idea that I was starting to feel some things that could make it all happen all over again got me scared. So, I told Lee I thought things were going to fast. Though I didn’t say it that rationally and clearly. Things might have gone differently later, if I had made clear then that I meant something other than just an amazingly quick and strong friendship. And since I was focused on the underlying meaning to what I’d said, his reply that he knew it was fast but that was okay, it felt right and if it does you should let it happen… well, that said, to me, that he was developing the same kind of feelings for me and that it was okay. I stopped fighting where my emotions were taking me at that point.

When it became clear to him later exactly how I was feeling, he got distant, and that drove me crazy. It hurt. I finally thought about things, and realized the colossal amount of hearing what I wanted to hear that I’d been doing, and I put myself in completely open and honest mode. And, not surprisingly, got rejected.

So, here I am, a year later, and in the midst of another long entry about the same kind of thing, to one degree or another.

I’m still not over Pete completely. I recognize that. After the big bout of grief on the 11th, though, I seem to have turned the corner. Seems to be the way I work when I’m hurt badly… can’t shake it for however long it takes. It doesn’t really even reduce in level, it just drags on and on without letup. Then there’ll come a day when it suddenly increases in intensity, like it did on the 11th, and it goes from hurt to torture. And then, it’s gone. Some interior “that’s enough of that” switch gets thrown, and the pain is at a distance, hardly noticeable, and fades fast. In the past, this has always meant that I’ve reached the point where there’s no way in hell I’d go back to the man in question. And this is the point at which the ones that did try to come back have always come back. Too late.

I guess that the “no way in hell” was because all those previous boyfriends mistreated me so much. Pete never did. He was always loving and supporting and caring and sweet, and I guess that makes a difference now. Even though the memories of the time I was with him are no longer the relive-the-moment kind I would have had without the breakup, the few flashes and blurry images that remain are all good memories. I won’t be able to quote him verbatim like I could have before, but that’s okay. And just as he’s unlike the previous boyfriends when it comes to how he treated me, he’s unlike them when it comes to how things are now. The most I could feel for the others was friendship (maybe.) With Pete, I still care for him something more than I would a friend, and probably always will. If he ever changed his mind about our breakup, and I was single, I wouldn’t necessarily say no. I don’t think that’s likely to happen, but the option remains open in a way it never was for any of the others.

So yeah, I still have feelings for Pete.

Over the last few weeks, I’ve come to the growing realization that I have, either again or still, some feelings for Lee. Whether this is the crush from last year, just pushed aside but never gone… or something that has started new… or rebound post-Pete… well, I have no idea. I suppose I should have expected it. Someone who makes me laugh has always been a weak spot with me, and Lee certainly does that. The only person I’ve known to make me laugh so hard, I fell off of furniture. Certainly doesn’t hurt that he’s talented, handsome, and fucking brilliant. His writing is amazing. I go back and re-read it, especially the Chthonic Cycle he wrote over on PanHistoria, about once a month. The things he writes, the way he writes… *sighs* it just rocks my world.

So, here we go again. A very similar situation to last year, and with the same two men. There are some obvious differences, of course. And one big difference that I am going to make.

I ain’t going there this time.

I’m fighting off the tendency to read what I want into what’s said. I’ve always been protective of people I care about, and I’m not going to burden him with my unruly feelings. I know that he isn’t attracted to me, and I’m going to hold onto that instead of setting it aside for what I want to see. I’ll protect him from me.

He can do better’n me anyway.

Oh shut up and go to bed, you bitch. Stop your whining and go to bed.

Right. G’night.

This is California. I’m not supposed to be shivering, even at 6 in the morning. It’s not like I’m living in New Jersey in the middle of a Nor’easter or something.

Take the “What kind of Squirrel am I Test!”

I find this pretty amusing, since I am the one who’s been stalked. Three stalkers in my time (though one of them was, well, inherited, so to speak.)

*glares at someone in particular*

The first battle in the war has been won. The foe declared unconditional surrender, and ate much crow. I am laying the groundwork for the next battle.

Meantime, the two science fiction novels I’m a part of in PanHistoria requested that I make banners for them. I have done so, and I’m especially proud of the one I made for Shalahar Ring. Let’s see if it will permit me to link the image, even though the site itself is still not open to the public yet.

I was very gratified with the reaction I got from the first person I showed it to. To quote him… “WOW! Just… fucking… WOW!”

I haven’t gotten that good of a reaction to one of my 3D renders… well… EVER! Woohoo!

And tired of being tired.

Good night, hours after I meant to be asleep. But, well, I wound up taking the first steps in a war. These things tend to be time consuming.

I go now to dream evil things to inflict upon the foe.