A Mini Vaca

Instead of berating myself for falling far, far away from the writing life, let’s just say I took a “Mini Vaca.” K?

And, thank God that I can step over the shattered wreckage of my social life on my way to my suddenly miserable (well, not really suddenly) work life.

Luckily though, I have no viable social life so spending four hours “correcting, organizing, cleaning. Repeat” doesn’t seem like too big a deal.

Off to organize.

My Semi-Charmed Kinda Life

Ok, I forget if I mentioned this to you before, dear reader, but I am now playing in a pool league. Yes, you should have suspected that my life had become just that seedy (to all of you pool league players out there, I am of course only joking when I refer to us as “seedy” *flashes ‘pool league member’ gang symbol*) And, after losing my first three matches–the most recent in ignominious fashion at our “home field”–I managed to absolutely destroy my opponent Tuesday night. Two straight incredibly nearly perfectly played games–which, as you know if you’ve seen me play pool, isn’t me.  Luckily though, my opponent was gracious in his loss: “You played great tonight…for a sandbagger.” And then he added: “I can’t wait to play you again-so I can destroy your ass!” I believe I replied “I’m looking forward to it.” or something like that. I didn’t bother to point out to him that he was the first person I ever beat in a match. His ego already seemed a little bruised by his quick dismissal from our match.

Go, me.

Speaking of going, I spent much of yesterday driving up at down the valley. Up to work. Back. Out to Chicker Falls. Back to the town in which I work (for an unrelated-to-work meeting). Back to home. Out to see The Jilted One. Down to the Orcha’d to visit Ms. Hold ‘Em. A quick visit to my buddy the Sicilian. And then back for another short visit with the Jilted One at work. And then home again. I’m tired even just listing the itinerary.

Oh, and when I was visiting the Sicilian we watched some Ultimate Fighting and he bemoaned the fact that when he fought they didn’t have television and he only earned $120 a match, not the big money these guys are making (‘how much DO they make?’, I wonder…but not enough to google it). I learn something new about the Sicilian every day.

Anyway, I’m tired today and still not back into full tilt writing mode, so I will sign off for now. Thanks dear readers for returning–and for those of you who are new to this blog, you have a lot of catching up to do so don’t complain when I disappear for days at a time.

*flashes ‘erratic blogger’ gang symbol*

Once again…and again

I’m hoping this isn’t another false start back into the writing thang. It’ll be brief, but hopefully not false.

I’m recovering from a Thanksgiving weekend that saw my whole schedule tilt from the good ol’ school-year wake up time of 6:30 AM to the good-ol’ Jilted One -style schedule of go to bed at 7 AM. And yes, Saturday night/Sunday morning I was over at her place bubble-wrapping (don’t bother looking it up in the Urban Dictionary, it isn’t a code word for some kinda sex–though it should be) all of her stuff–she’s moving soon. And though the morning, urm afternoon, ended in some (semi)-innocent cuddling, it was just another pleasant night with my real, real close buddy.

The Jilted One, who has broken up/made up with her boyfriend about a half dozen times in the past months, now says that that relationship is done for good. It did, afterall, end with her throwing a beer bottle at him–so I’m thinking maybe it wasn’t HER decision to end it completely–so what’s done really, at this point, should be done.

Getting back into the writing mode is going to take some time. I hope that the writing starts to flow a little better again.

I Always Get Starstruck When a Famous Rabid Anti-Semite Comes to Town

As reported all over the local press (though if you are one of my many more distant readers this is probably fresh news since who gives a shite about Mel Gibson anymore), Mel Gibson and company are filming in Nhamp. The only reason I thought to mention it was to point out that yesterday they were filming in the very bar in which The Queen and I hung out back in the spring.

But, of course, most of my dear readers know little about that day because I never finished writing the brilliantly witty blog entry that I had started to write about it. Like our efforts to find a time to meet up again, that blog entry keeps not making it all the way to the Publish button.

“I’m Bored. Let’s Play.”

These two simple sentences have been getting me into some interesting situations lately. Smart situations? Situations I’m Proud of? Situations that Won’t Get Me Drawn and Quartered? Not sure.

But, interesting? Yes.

After my long layoff from writing I have so much to tell about so many people. But let me just start my return to blogging with a quick message to myself–Monday night you went home for a reason: you were tired, truly done for the night, and you had to work. Under no circumstances should you have sent a good night message to the Jilted One at 1:30 a.m. And when she said she wanted to come and visit you, you should have said ‘no, I’m tired; I’m done; and I have to work in the morning’. You should not have said “I’ll meet you somewhere.

Okay, so, to cut to the chase, I left there at 7 a.m., in just enough time to get to work. On maybe two hours sleep. A hard situation to explain to anyone else–and I don’t think that my honest explanation that all we did was sleep is going to fly with anyone–let alone the surprisingly patient (so far) Ms. Hold ‘Em. You know, especially since we spooned away those early morning hours.

As dead as I should be, I do have to say that it was a really nice (you know, in a friendly but happy kind of way) time. Waking up next to the Jilted One was never anything I had expected to EVER happen to me. If it weren’t for you, dear readers, it would have to be a secret I carried with me forever. Or as The Jilted One texted it: “shhhhhhhhh4eva.”

You don’t want to know how many times I’ve gotten that text.

Oh, and tonight, K2 returns to the east coast–married and, well let’s see if she has changed lo these many months….

Another Quick Hit

I know I haven’t been catching up, dear readers, but at least I’m stopping by. A few brief snippets:

This weekend, MHE and I are going on a romantic weekend in…um…Westside! (for those of you who are not local, it’s the unremarkable, strip mall studded town just south of here.) Yeah…but the idea is that we’re not planning on going anywhere anyway, just getting away from everyone else for a day.

My new, expensive phone is–how do you say?–fooked. I don’t think I did anything drastic to it, but it’s acting like I did. So, who knows? I’m back to my old phone which, despite its batteredness, still works far more reliably than the over-expensive, under-performing Blackberry Pearl. This old phone is famous for its role in some of this blog’s earlier stories.

On Wednesday when I was out I was playing some pool and noticed this woman “checking me out.” You know, you notice her looking at you when you’re at the bar and she doesn’t look away until she knows she caught your eye and then she glances back again etc. Oh, and then you notice her looking at you when you’re sitting outside. Oh, and when you do come inside she makes a point of making eye contact and smiling–several times. Got it, kids? Not my imagination. Oh, and you also notice that she clearly has a boyfriend sitting next to her through much of this. Oh, and then when you’re leaving you can’t help but notice that they’re in the car next to you and she’s giving the boyfriend a blowjob. And in the brief second that you glanced toward that car (until you realized what you were looking at and averted your eyes but quick), you notice the BF staring at you with a “Fuck you, buddy” sneer, as if he thought he were in competition with you and somehow winning. Yeah.  You know, another typical Wednesday night.

Oh, and on Tuesday, I was sitting at the bar with the Sicilian and a couple other people wqhen, much to my surprise, I got to see the newly re-done breasts of a woman sitting at the bar. Thank you bartender for suggesting that she show them. It was an interesting sight to say the least. And, having never seen fake breasts live and in person before I can say that they did indeed defy gravity in all the best ways. Yeah, that was my Tuesday.

Anyway, that’s that for now. Just a few bits from the last few days. See you all in Westside!

Back to the Future

Well, I know I now owe you, my dear readers, about a month’s worth of material–and a whirlwind of activity it has been. But I continue to be busy and to not have much computer time, so I can’t promise that I can catch you up here.

But, briefly, Ms. Hold ‘Em and I are in a mode (and have been for three plus weeks now) of re-trying a relationship. Amazingly, all of the good things from before are still intact and much of the craziness that drove me up a wall is gone–thus far at least. The changes have been amazing–both in their drasticness and in their consistency. But we will see what we will see.

This past holiday weekend, MHE and her daughter and I went down to the Aquarium on Saturday. Her daughter loved the sea lion show and we all loved the day. On Sunday I took my boys to an Irish Fest–hope Ihave time to write about one funny incident that day. And on Monday, I hung out at MHE’s and we grilled steaks–porterhouses that cost $5 a pound! That’s like FREE in the porterhouse world!

Oh, and back on Friday, I watched the kids most of the night then we to MHE’s to watch a movie. I left there at 2 and, on a whim (okay, so the Young One and her friend had both texted me asking me why I wasn’t there) I stopped down the secret bar.

Though it was shortly after two, the music was blaring and like 15 people were dancing out on the porch. I noticed that two of them were police officers–though I’m not sure if in the long run that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Anyway, the Young One and her friend were both kind of drunky, and I got lots of hugs and we did lots of catching up. I was feeling a bit guilty because, with MHE and I together at the moment, it was kind of awkward hanging out and being friendly with them without allowing myself to get sucked into something that would later lead MHE to ritually castrate me. Of course, then they left and I found myself there with the owner, the bartender and her cousin, who had shown some interest in me in the recent past–how many Scylla and Charibdis’s can there be in one night? Anyway, after the conversation got suggestive (with the owner that doesn’t take long) and the cousin was eyeing me like I was a piece of tasty steak, I left–not just to get away from the conversation, but also because I was dead tired.

At any rate, that’s a quick wrap for this weekend. More soon I hope.

Still Working

Hello, dear readers. Just to let you know, I’m still working on filling you in on the unblogged–but very bloggable–two weeks or so that I took off from the blog. For now I’ll just say that this morning I am upbeat and hopeful. I’m still worried about getting caught up in the tornado of emotions and then getting slammed back to Earth; but, I still feel the need to enjoy the happiness, rather than always warning myself to keep that in check.

Who knows what’s best? Who am I to try to guide my life?

This weekend I was in southern Vermont and went to the amazingly awesome McNeill’s Brewery in Brattleboro. I know I’ve had McNeill’s before, though I don’t recall when, but I had not remembered it being as good as it was on Saturday–probably (from the four different beers I tried) the best microbrews I’ve ever had (although I like Berkshire Brewing’s porter a little more than McNeill’s, but just a little). One funny thing that happened as I was standing at the bar was that this guy standing there next to me turned to me and said: “Did anyone tell you that you and your type are the worst sort of scum?” Hmmm…while I was trying to figure out who we were that were such scum I figured I’d answer rather than get offended so I replied something like I hadn’t been told that in a while but thanks for letting me know. I figured that would either diffuse the situation or lead to some mischief, but he turned and walked out of the bar and then a minute or so later came back in and apologized for mistaking me for an acquaintance of his. Hah! I knew it had to be something like that as I man the most “mistaken for another person” person in America. Even funnier, as I was searching for internet stuff on McNeill’s, I saw a picture of the owner and, well, unless I am mistaking him for someone else…

Note to self: next time ask for a free drink!

Note to readers: their salsa was also very excellent. I already make one similar, but I’m looking to tweak my recipe to make it more like the brewery’s. Hint: mango.
Anyway, off to another day of the usual fun including one of the boy’s baseball games and lots of catching up on sleep and paper correcting.

My “Sponsored Links” Mock Me

Okay, this is going way out of order as far as catching you up on the past two-and-a-half weeks, but it’s what came to mind first.

Let’s see, a little “mix up” occurred, leading MHE to basically tell me in an email that I was the most vile person in the world and that she couldn’t even bear to look at me let alone ever be my friend (more on this later). So, while I’m taking this barrage of abuse via email, I notice that all of my gmail sponsored links are along the lines of:

Ending a Relationship–an Online Resource

The Online Guide to Breaking Up

and of course, Singles.net and Match.com-like sites

Thanks for the help, gmail.

Jerk.

A Duck’s Back

I wish I had more time to write because I know lost somewhere in the last period of not writing much are a bunch of good stories. But I will at least give a few details about recent events.

Okay, first of all, last weekend’s visit with the Young One: I was talking to my friend P. the other day and in talking realized how many times the Young One has hinted at the possibility of a little something something. His reply: “You HAVE to go for it. Not just for yourself but for all of your friends who will never have the chance!” OIh, and he also described her as “Teeming with fuck me sexuality.” In case you wanted to have an idea why she is often the topic of our thoughts.

What I had also forgotten about that night was that I also saw her friend LL, whom I had drunkenly sent a myspace message to at 4 AM after the evening that MHE dumped me. You can only imagine what it was like. Oddly enough, I think that, rather than being annoyed or amused by it, she has since been intrigued. We’ll see if that is yet another possibility there. Oh–and I was discussing these two women with Dice-G, a co-worker of mine. We tend to have these wonderfully workplace-inappropriate conversations. And, so, this comment was not atypical: “You HAVE to work on a threesome–think of it, they’re legal AND their ages don’t add up to yours! You’ll make the guy ‘hall of fame’ instantly!”

Like I said: on a roll.

And then Tuesday night I was hanging out with the pool league guys (but no MHE because of her new grift job). As expected Tragedy Girl showed up on the scene. I slowly drifted over to her and we chatted on and off for awhile, played the bar video game (she’s no MHE or “Other Option” when it comes to word games), and, of course, before I knew it, she had had quite a number of shots and was all over me like, like, um, you know, something that is all over something else, like, a lot. Not that I’m complaining and not that I wasn’t fully involved in the fun–I’m just saying is all. Anyway, at the start of the night had told her that I wasn’t staying past eleven (hey, it’s a work night) so round about 12:30 I finally decided to head home, despite the good times. So, she walked me to my car and we both showed off our kinesthetic learning style.

Funny thing is, since this has all been fun and stuff, at times I tend to take a step back and observe us fairly objectively. Like when she was holding my arms telling me how strong I felt–hey, right thing to say to a guy and maybe you’re drunken self actually half believes it, but if you know me you know that that is what Huck Finn would call a “stretcher” at best. It makes me wonder how many patently untrue things I’ve also drunkenly said to her. (The only one I can think of is “No, I didn’t laugh when you tripped in the same spot for the third time.”)

Anyway, she also had this disturbing habit of talking about relationship possibilities–and mind you I went into this little escapade with the sense that a “relationship” was NOT what she was ready for (she’s fairly recently, unexpectedly widowed). So, it was a bit amusing when, the next day, she texted me and said sorry I don’t think we should have a relationship. Sorry? No, thank you for climbing onto the same page. I’m interested to see what happens the next time I see her out. Will she go back to the vodka shots and come back to me looking for a little something? And, hey, whatever. She will or she won’t. It’s all water off a duck’s back at this point.

Last night MHE and I made plans to hang out this weekend. She’s on a mini-vaca watching someone’s house so it’ll be fun to hang low with her and her daughter. I’ll be making dinner for us, hopefully reminding her that I’m the best damned thing to come along since Black Cherry vodka. Although, actually, I think I came first…

All in all I’m still not sure what or who I want. MHE still has a lot of question marks and everyone else, well, is everyone else at this point. I saw a drunk JetBlue last night and spent some tme in a painful conversation. Though I don’t think it was my intent, our talking definitely caught MHE’s attention and she looked mildly irked. But then again, she sometimes carries that face even when she isn’t.

Well, I’ve rambled on long enough for now. Next Wednesday I will have an audience with the Queen. Should be a fun time. Sushi and downtown and a museum? Sounds like a plan.