Summertime Blues

Just some random thoughts bouncing around my cranium today.

I wonder if my friend is coming home soon and if I'll get to see him while he's here. And I wonder if he ever wonders 'what if' about the two of us every once in awhile like I do.

I complain I never do anything, yet I don't seem to make much of an effort to make things happen. But it seems everytime I do hardly anyone shows. It seems to be the more casual the invite 'yeah come over if you're not doing anything' seems to get the best results. But I hardly ever do this because I'm paranoid of my cleaning/decorating skills are just not up to snuff. Everyone else's house looks great. Mine always looks cluttered and half-assed. I'm no Martha Stewart. But I don't know where I get this notion that my friends will be poking in corners and turning their noses up because I might have missed a spot. If I'm having a get together I'll spend days cleaning and shining. Is this normal? Do I need psychiatric help for this compulsion? I don't understand how I can be so uncaring about what people think of me, but when it comes to people seeing my house I freak out.

moving on...

The object of my affection: long blonde hair, shy, cute... I still think about him alot. We had a brief dalliance and to his credit he was upfront in telling me he wasn't looking for a long term relationship. I thought 'yeah, I'll change his mind on that... ' Phft. I pined, still pine from time to time but I had to take my own advice and admit he's not calling because he doesn't want to. Swallow the jagged little pill and stop saying things like 'he's just shy... maybe he doesn't think I want him too... ' Which could of course be true, but sitting around believing them to be fact while the phone is still not ringing serves no purpose. I wish I'd run into him somewhere and his eyes would light up when he saw me. Then I'd jump his bones and finish what we started and tie him up in the basement so he couldn't get away again.

snort

The Object of his Affection: is me. A different him. He's smart, funny, we get along like a house on fire... did I mention he was married? Of course he is because this is my life we're talking about. He dreams about washing my feet. Gives one a sense of omnipotence. The air crackles with the sexual tension when we're in the same room. I tell him the day he gets divorced I better be the first person he comes to visit. I know. Good girl. Yeah... I'm not such a good girl. I flirt with him. I invite him over for wine. I call him at 2am to come drive me home from the bar. I flirt with disaster. He feels like a boyfriend I have no physical relationship with. And I think about what that physical relationship would be like. ALOT. Because I think it would be hot. I tell him I think it would be over in 30 seconds because of the years of built up anticipation then we'd be left disappointed and wondering what the hell all the excitement was about. He doesn't agree with me though. I don't either but sometimes it helps me stay away from him.

*fans self* next topic

What if someone I knew came across this blawg and figured out it was me? Would I want to die from embarassment?

*thinks a minute*

No. Who cares. Whatever. You can't mock me if it doesn't bother me. Go ahead. If it makes you smile thinking what a tool I am, well I'm glad I brightened your day a little.

I need to be more social. I need to stop worrying what people will think of my cleaning and decorating skills, or lack thereof and just start inviting people over for stuff. All my other friends do it. I think I relied too much on other people's party hosting and just never bothered doing my own. But then when I think about having a dinner party or something I think oh dear god where am I going to put everyone?! I don't have enough furniture! My house is too small! And I never finished painting the hallway! and I'm only halfway through stripping the stairs they look horrible! And what if someone see my junk room ?! Okay that's it. Forget the party. I can't let anyone see this.

yeah this is what happens every time. I should have a barbeque maybe. That would work. Hmmm now there's a thought. I don't feel my stress level going up too high over that. But I don't have a barbeque. I don't eat enough meat to justify getting one. I could invite my neighbor... and ask if he'd mind bringing his barbeque with him ha ha.

I have a new weekend habit towards getting more social. Sitting on the doorstep with a bottle of wine. Friday and/or Saturday nites (depending on the weather and how tired I am) I light the tiki torches and sit on the stoop. The tiki torches seem to have become my beacon for anyone who wants to come join me that the wine drinking will now commence. So far only one of my neighbors has joined me but we still have fun. The kids run around and play and we watch the world go by while we slug back a few glasses. I suggested we should have a neighborhood Block Party this summer and he thought that was a great idea. I already warned him he'll have to do the barbequing.

hahaha Summertime Blues just came on, the Alan Jackson version. That's a cosmic message from my mom. She loved Alan Jackson.

Sometimes I wonder what I'm gonna do
cause there ain't no cure for the summertime blues