A Ceramic Fish Joint

Well, sometime in the next week or so I'll be moving again, back with Wes for the time being. Third move about 2 months. This move comes 4 days after I finished unpacking all my stuff and gave away all boxes and containers. I guess I'll just have to pick up a few of those. Might trim down my wardrobe and amount of stuff again. Then it'll be really silly to have movers take my 6 boxes, bed, dresser and night stands. Oh well. That's not the part where my pride is really broken.

I should have fucking known better. I should have known to not get involved, to care about someone. I really felt that it was mutual. Why wouldn't have been if he was giving the “go” on everything. It's just pathetic that after a mere 3 weeks a person decides that I'm not only not worthy to live with, but to be in a relationship with. Mind you, these 3 weeks I worked night shift and didn't see him but an hour in the morning…or over the weekend. Two weekends his son was there. One weekend I worked overtime the entire time. It's pathetic that I'm that undesireable a person that someone gets sick of me when I'm not around. I get that he's going through shit on his own…but he was aware these things would be happening. Nothing new. I hate that I was drawn in and led to believe that I had found person I was going to be happy with. I hate that I've shared things with him; things that I don't tell anyone. I've shared some of my deepest secrets. I totally fell for him. I adored his son. I tried everything I could to make live easy as possible. And it wasn't enough.

He said he might be willing to start over, but much more slowly. As friends. How can you start out as friends when you've fallen in love with someone? How does that even work. I think that whole friends think is just a bunch of crap to make the hurt not sting so bad. Just like, “It's not you; it's me.” Basically that just means that I've noticed things about myself that make me not be able to stand you anymore. It really does a lot for the self esteem.

Maybe I should have moved to Texas. Maybe I should have kept my feelings to myself and done the non-stupid thing of believing in the sweet talk of a guy. Then again, maybe I just need to get laid really bad to feel better. Anyone up for a hookup? My pussy is hot and ready to go! Yum! If not, I'll just keep taking handfuls of Xanax until it all goes away.

People suck, especially those who make a Heidi sad. Lot's of people are sucking right now, and one is making me a sad panda. I guess it's true that I can't just have one of those normal and easy lives. The universe just has to take its chance to knock me down a few notches anytime things start to go my way. Bastard universe.

Now on to wacky dreams. This *may* have been caused by taking way too much Xanax. Then again, it may just be the wacky dream portion of my brain. This guy knocked on the door, right when I was in a very bad mood. And, well, I really hate unexpected people coming to the door anyway so I was especially pissy about it. He said he needed a ride to work – which was somewhere close to my work. He had no money, but a crapload of coke he would give me. Initially I said no, cause coke just isn't my thing. Then I asked to test it out to see how good it was (heh) because, you know, free drugs and all that jazz. So they put a huge pile on the counter for me to try. I had no razerblade to make sure it was fine enough, and dream Heidi didn't think to use a credit card. Somehow as I was trying to make nice lines it turned gooey. Well, more like dough. I was a sport, though, and still tried to snort it. (Without a rolled dollar or anything – dream Heidi forgot how to do drugs!) It was good stuff, but apparently dough is not so easy to get up yer nose. Who would have known?

So I finally agreed to take him, figured if nothing else I could sell the massive quantity of blow. But trying to get anywhere was impossible. I left to get somethng from the store first, and said I'd be right back. And then I couldn't find my way back to the apartment. I went inside somebody else's house and was confused, then had to climb down a bunch of red stairs. It was at least 3 flights of stairs, and at each landing you had to climb through a weird opening in the wood to get to the next flight of stairs. Once I got to the ground, the grass was really wet and I had to walk through it to get to my car.

Other weird things to note about this dream. The guy needing a ride seemed so familiar. He said we had worked together at AOL after joking around about it for a while. Cause I thought – this guy HAS to know me at least a little bit to know it's okay to exchange drugs for, well, anything with me. Then he kind of turned into the not-gay Mike I was friends with at Marshall. The other weird thing is that I got a valentine (totally like the little kids, it even had the chalk tasting hearts inside) from someone that I went to middle and high school with; the note said something about he wished he could have told me in all those years how much he loved me. Something sappy like that.

And that's pretty much all I remember of the dream. So, was it Xanax induced or does it have any meaning (I'm looking at you, Amber.)

I was going to go to a beginner's yoga class this morning, but don't think that's gonna happen. I don't think I have it in me to stay focused for an hour, and I certainly don't want to meditate on anything right now.