Snarks and Ladders

Yeah, I haven’t posted in a while.  So, here’s yet another amazingly fast and boring run down of all the shit that has been happening in my life.  Or in a night – the rest of them were really kinda dull and involved reports and marking and more reports and marking and programming and marking…. yeah, you get it.

Anyway, the other night the local Catholic school had a fundraiser for themselves, or the Catholic Church, or something.  So, I dragged my atheist public school teacher self along, all ready to attempt to answer some trivia questions. 

Of course, I had to have a couple of drinks before hand to ready myself for the ordeal.

So, we got there, and then I had a few more drinks.  And a few more.  I got one or two questions right in the meantime, and then I had a few more.  The girl sitting across from me kept ordering drinks and not liking how they turned out, so I had a few of those too.

Then my money was gone.

But the drinks kept coming!

Well, after that, we caught the bus home.  I vaguely remember having my head in my friend’s lap because I couldn’t sit up straight any more.  Thank goodness it was my friend sitting next to me, because at the time I couldn’t have cared less who it was, and the next day I couldn’t remember until someone told me.

Then I went back to my friend’s place – he wanted a few of us to come around for post trivia drinks, but I clearly wasn’t in a state to drink anymore (most of what I had consumed in the last hour decided it wanted out of my body and on to the front lawn.  Oops). So, the two who lived there went to bed, and there was me and yet another friend (who moved to town maybe a month ago?) left.

So, we laid on the lounge and chatted.  I don’t recall much of the conversation, I just know it went for a while.  I may have been a little intoxicated.

And he hugged me.  For something like two hours.

And he kissed the top of my head and stuff.

What is with that?

I spent the whole weekend after that working out what on earth that was supposed to mean.  Most guys I know either run screaming from a sick drunk girl, or they try to make a move.  None of them have ever just sat there and held one. 

And forehead kisses?  What are they supposed to mean?

Anyway, none of this made sense, so I went with the obvious (means nothing) option.  Then watched He’s Not That Into You just to make sure the message sunk in (I might have an irrational love of that movie).

Then it got to the end scene.

Then I cried.  Because it always makes me cry.

Well, it’s been a kinda crazy couple of days.  My ear decided it would be fun to consume an earring (much to my panicked shouts of ‘Ow ow mcfucking ow!!’), I put off doing work in favour of being a lazy ass for my last two days of holidays. and my family is convinced I do not like them because I do not want to go home next holidays.

Eeeeesh.

And my house is a sty from having friends over – it makes me wonder why I clean up for them, when they leave beer bottles everywhere.  A lot of beer bottles.  Which is hardly fair when I stayed sober for the night and drove everyone home.

In a display of assertiveness (or perhaps just outright bitchiness), when the boy** was somewhat of an asshat the other day, I pretty much just told him that, you know what, I quit.  If I talk too much for his liking, if that somehow makes him feel ‘pressured’ and ‘obligated’ to make conversation (seriously, it’s a fucking IM chat window, buddy.  It doesn’t have teeth.  It’s not going to jump off the screen and maul your face if you don’t talk lots or say you are busy), then I just won’t start a conversation.  Ever.  He can initiate one if he wants to talk, other than that, we can all just sit in happy blissful silence.

So.  I don’t expect to be hearing from him in the next hundred years or so.  I’m kinda OK with that.

In other news, I was pondering the fact that spending every night alone is really quite shitty.  I think it’s mainly bothering because it’s winter, and every time I involuntarily roll over for a snuggle, I smoosh my face into a pillow or a cat.  Waking up with a mouthful of fur is nasty (although very similar to this one guy that I dated…)  I was feeling a bit pathetic for moping around about it, and then I thought about the many ways we could interpret my sex life

1.  I’ve had sex with 5 different people this year!  Well, that sounds like I got plenty of action, right?

2.  I have only had sex maybe 8 times this year!  Unfortunately, 3 of those were one off affairs.  Actually, unfortunately is not the word to use in some cases.  I think the correct word there is ‘ThankYouRandomDeityIAmNeverDrinkingAgainISwearJustDoNOTLetMeNearThat’  Penises should come with warning labels attached.  Or pull pins, like fire extinguishers

“So, Ma’am, do you really want to use this here penis?  Because, once you pull that pin, there’s no going back.  This pin is here to remind you of all the horrible consequences using this penis can have.

*Disclaimer: We take no responsibility for you confusing this pull pin with his penis.  If confusion does arise, please take said penis to somewhere warm, where hopefully the difference will become apparent.  If you are lucky*”

And now I’m thinking about firemen.

Image stolen shamelessly from here.

OK.  Now that I am back with you.

I’m pinning my last hope, Princess Leia style, on the fact that we have a new teacher coming out this term.  A teacher who is young (!), male (!!), and teaches Science (uh… geeks, can be hot, right? !!!)***.  Hopefully he can at least maintain a conversation.

Either that or I’m just going to have to say ‘Stick a cork in me, I’m done’****.  I’ll be closing up shop until I move northwards. 

** I need better pseudonyms.  Stat.

***In all actuality, I don’t really like the idea of being involved with someone from work.  Urgh messy.  So, hopefully he’s just a nice guy to chat to.  *fingers crossed*

**** Yes, I know it’s meant to be a fork.  But I do not want a fork stuck in my nether regions!

This post is going to be incredibly long winded and most likely awful to read.  I wrote it more for the purposes of ‘getting everything out’ in the hope that maybe I’ll feel better, not bottling it all up inside of me.  Feel free to mark as read.

Gather round, sit down, I’m going to tell you all a story.

Once upon a time, there was a young Australian girl.  She was a teacher, living out in the middle of nowhere, dating a rather nice young man from America.  It wasn’t easy – they couldn’t seem to find a compromise so that they could eventually be together, and his meant they occasionally fought.  However, both he and she were happy.

Except for the fact that she felt something for someone else.  Another rather nice young man, except this young man lived in Canada.  They flirted idly, and she told herself that it was harmless.  After all, he said (many many many times) that it was just harmless flirting, nothing more.  She agreed… even though a small part of her wondered if there was anything more to it, deep down inside.  However, she shrugged it off, ignored it, and continued life how it was.

She went to America to visit some friends, and attend a convention.  A convention that the young man from Canada just happened to be at.  They went out for dinner with a few friends, then they all went back to the hotel room for a few more drinks and a couple of games of cards.  Surprise surprise, it became pretty apparent that it wasn’t just ‘harmless flirting’.  He asked her to stay the night, and she declined (although she never told him it was because she had a boyfriend waiting for her at her hotel room – utterly dishonest of her, no matter how conflicted she was).  The whole way home she couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if she decided to stay.  After that things got rather fuzzy…

(Turns out, by the time she got home, she was utterly intoxicated.  So much so that she couldn’t work the lock on the hotel room door.  She spent most of the night babbling away, feeling guilty for even contemplating the thought of staying.  Of course, she didn’t admit it, because nothing really happened, right?)

Well, things progressed awkwardly from there.  The Canadian boy kept sending rather conflicting messages.  She was unhappier than ever in her relationship, but scared to break it off and risk being alone.  Eventually, she couldn’t live with the guilty feeling that bothered her every night, and she broke it off with the boyfriend, deciding it was for the best regardless of what happened.  She then pursued things with the Canadian guy, feeling much more relieved, but still confused, since he changed his mind about things at regular intervals.

Eventually things settled down nicely.  They seemed fairly happy, and adopted a ‘well, I’m visiting you in January, let’s see how things work out from there’ approach.  She spent almost two weeks in Japan in a state of utter nervous apprehension before flying to Canada, where she was intending to stay for one week. 

Well… it was a wonderful week.  So much so that it stretched out to two.  She spent quite a bit of time with him, and often marvelled at how comfortable she felt with him.   By now she had picked up a bit of a nasty cold, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to go out and spend more time with him.  When it came time to leave, she was convinced that he felt something for her.  On their last night together, he held her hand like he never wanted to let go, and developed an (admittedly rather cute and amusing) twitch in his eye at the thought of her leaving.

They spent the rest of her trip talking constantly.  By then she was so sick she couldn’t get out of bed anyway, so she was able to sit on her computer and talk.  They both missed each other terribly, neither believed the other one really missed them as much, and they were still essentially happy.  When she flew back home, she intended to drive straight out to her house, but she was diagnosed with chicken pox, and was confined to bed for a few more days.  She spent the time talking to him (of course), and things continued along just how they were.

Unfortunately, he was convinced she didn’t feel the same way for him that he did for her.  So convinced that she had to persuade him, and ended up telling him exactly how she felt (which she was a little terrified to do, but clearly he felt something, right?)  He finally seemed to accept that.

The day came when she had to drive home.  She was still feeling quite ill, but managed the 8 hour drive by the skin of her teeth.  When she got home she sat down at her computer, feeling kinda crappy and looking forward to chatting to him, hoping it would make her feel better.  Then he told her that he needed to speak to her.

“I’m sorry… I don’t really feel anything for you… it turns out I was wrong, it was just a small crush.  I hope we can still be friends… I’m sorry”

After that, things got very confusing.  She was angry for a while.  Then she felt guilty about being angry.  Then things looked like they might pick up where they left off, at least a little.  Then he just stopped speaking to her altogether, and when he did he was rude and nasty.  Finally, he decided months later to be friendly, but she was so frustrated by a variety of things, including him, that she just exploded in a fit of blind rage.  And he has ignored her completely since then.

___________________________________________________________________

Well… hopefully writing it all out helps me feel better and move on.  It’s stupid to sit around, hoping for something to change.  I guess I’ll never really know why he suddenly changed his mind like that – I guess the thought of actually feeling something for someone was all too much to handle, and it would be easier to get in first and hurt me before I could potentially hurt him.  Kinda frustrating, since I figure this would have actually worked.  But now I’m slowly moving forward, although I will admit I’m terrified of the same thing happening again.  I didn’t even see it coming, and that bothers me.

Hopefully I’ll feel better after getting it all out, at least!

A couple are sitting together at home, having a discussion.  They seem to be fairly happy – joking around, laughing, smiling.  She says something that he isn’t pleased with, and he punches her in the face.  “It wasn’t that hard,” she says later, “just enough that my head snapped back a bit.  It’s not like he did any damage or anything, so it’s OK.  He was just joking.”

Now, I see all manner of things wrong with the above scenario.  In fact, I am fairly sure most people would.  I know that her argument that ‘it wasn’t a hard punch.  He was just joking around’ wouldn’t wash with me.  If a friend told me this, I’d be incredibly concerned.

But what happens when the story looks more like this:

A couple are sitting together at home, having a discussion.  They seem to be fairly happy – joking around, laughing, smiling.  He says something that she isn’t pleased with, and she punches him in the face.  “It wasn’t that hard,” he says later, “just enough that my head snapped back a bit.  It’s not like she did any damage or anything, so it’s OK.  She was just joking.”

All of a sudden, this becomes nothing to be overly concerned about.  Hell, women punching men in the face is comedy, right?  I know that’s the most common reaction I have seen.  It didn’t hurt, so no harm done… and if it did, he needs to ‘suck it up’ and ‘grow a pair’, right?

No.  It’s not.

I’m not saying that domestic violence, where men hit women, is not a huge problem.  I’m not saying that we don’t need to fight it.  We need to educate people about abusive relationships – why they happen, who is to blame, how to help people that are in them.

I have an issue with the fact that men are also abused, physically and emotionally, by women, and nothing is done or said about it.

A friend of mine got out of what I would term an abusive relationship.  He was punched by his girlfriend, put down and belittled constantly both at home and in front of others, had his belongings hidden or taken away as punishment, was not allowed to manage his own finances… it was obscene.  He felt utterly powerless to do anything about it, because he was male.  He couldn’t admit that she was abusive, because he refused to acknowledge that a slender woman who was much smaller than him could physically abuse him.

A quick google search on domestic violence brings up plenty of sites offering help and support – to women.  Apparently, this is only a female problem.  Only men are abusive.  If I was a man in an abusive relationship, I would be completely put off telling someone after seeing sites such as this one. 

Less support for abused men is generally excused by the fact that it happens less frequently.  Or, more so, because it is reported less frequently.  If you asked my friend if he was abused, he would say no and be utterly confounded by the suggestion.  People link abuse to injuries, ‘hard to explain bruises’, and profound violence.  People often fail to consider verbal abuse and the emotional damage that can cause in both cases.

We do need to educate people better about abuse.  We need to teach people that the victims do not bring this upon themselves.  We need to teach them that anyone can be abused.  We need to stop painting women as the sole victims.  In fact, acknowledging that both genders can abuse can only help women as well, in our struggle to not always be painted as the perpetual victim.

So, I’m sitting here, eating Nutella by the heaped spoonful, wondering what the heck I am going to write about.  It has been one of those strange fortnights where, while a whole lot has happened, it all sounds incredibly boring or stupid when I talk about it.

At the moment, I know that I should really be either writing reports or marking exams.  After all, the Year 12 reports are due tomorrow (eeeek!), and I am feeling a little pressed for time.  Part of the problem, I guess, is that the moronic executive at work only gave us a week to mark exams and get the reports done.  The other part would be that moron me went away for the weekend instead of sitting at home and marking like I should have done.

I guess, in some ways, the weekend away was kinda worth it.  Even if it means I have spent at least $200 drinking in the last week or so alone (bender and a fricking half, looking forward to easing back off the sauce with an alcohol free weekend this weekend).  I had a moderately good time, got to catch up with a few people I hadn’t seen in a while, and spent two days with the only friend I have here who doesn’t piss me off within a few hours. 

Anyway, while I was away, I got to thinking.  And then I got to talking to my friend about it, and we weirdly enough thought basically the same things.

I wouldn’t mind living in this town for most of the rest of my life.  Sure, I miss the ocean, mountains, trees… all that stuff we don’t have.  But, there are a bunch of  nice people out here, the career prospects are good, and it’s inexpensive.  I’d buy a block of land, build my dream house on it, settle in quite nicely and be happy for the most part.

Unfortunately, making a decision that big also means that I am essentially forced to resign myself to being single for the rest of my life.  There just isn’t that many locals to choose from, and I only have a few years left before all the men who come in to town (as police, or teachers, or whatever else) will all be too young for me.  I don’t mind being single as a short term thing – although it’s not something I would prefer, I can live with it – but essentially condemning myself to it forever kinda sucks. 

Why?  Because I have yet to meet a man who would be willing to make the big move and come out here.  To be fair, if you don’t work for the government, and don’t want to do farm work, there isn’t a lot out here.  However, it would be nice to meet someone who would be willing to give it a go.  Looking at a lot of the men I have been involved with, most of them could have found a job that is basically the same as what they are doing now (especially the couple of them who work from home).  They were just unwilling to try and see what it would be like out here, even in the short term.

It would be easy to get on my soap box and say that men are unwilling to move out here because it goes against the whole idea of the male ‘breadwinner’ when you put the woman’s career before the man’s.  I suspect that part of it IS exactly that.  However, it is a big ask of anyone to pack their bags and move to the middle of nowhere.  Unfortunately, most people assume that you can not be happy if you aren’t near a city and masses of people.

Maybe my friend and I should just build a house together and become crazy old cat ladies.

And I mean gag fest in the worst possible sense of the word.  I’m retching right now as I think about writing this post.

Someone I care very much about has been pointedly ignoring me for the last month or so.  Most likely because I care about him so much, and I fail at dealing with that in a good, kind, humane manner that doesn’t involve me getting cranky.  He may have been a little (or a lot) asshatish to me in the way that he has dealt with his side of it all, but at the end of the day, I screwed up and I screwed up big time.

However, that screwing up is not the point of this post.  I’ll get there soon.

Today, I started thinking about my cats.  Now, if I were to disappear and replace myself with a cat feeding, kitty litter scooping machine, I suspect my cats could not give two hoots.  I’m just the food source, according to them.  Of course, I love them a ridiculous amount – they are my children, so to speak – and would do most anything for them.  Including, yes, 3am chin scratches just because they want them.

Now, it doesn’t make sense for me to care so much for something that clearly doesn’t reciprocate those feelings.  I’m really just setting myself up for a fall, logically speaking.  However, I get an enormous amount of pleasure from caring about those two devilish furballs.  Despite the amount of grief and hassle they give me.  I enjoy them because I enjoy the feeling of caring about something.

I think that kinda applies to people as well.  I always put my inability to move on from people down to some weird fear that they may turn around and change their mind once I gave up and got over it.  Now I just think I like liking people.  I like caring, even if they put me at the approximate level of pond scum.  I like knowing that, regardless of what they say, think or feel, one person out there who isn’t their mother cares unconditionally.  Perhaps that is more creepy and weird than anything else.  Who knows, I have been accused every so often of being more than a little odd.  But I’m not going to stop caring, even if all hope is lost that any feeling will ever be returned. 

Because I like caring.  I like feeling like someone else’s life is important to me.  I like worrying about whether someone is happy or not, and all that weird stuff.  And it doesn’t really hurt anyone.

Apart from all of your stomachs, which are probably now rolling in disgust.  Sorry ‘bout that!

I guess the key lesson to learn from this is, that when Newton or whoever the heck it was said everything has an equal and opposite reaction, he wasn’t kidding.

1.  You’re kidding, I find this out through FACEBOOK?!?!  I’ve dropped off the list of ‘People who would get a phone call when I get engaged because they (at least once) were my very best friend in the whole world?  Not to mention the one also responsible for her a) even MEETING the guy b) keeping her WITH the guy when she lost all semblance of sanity that one night c) talking her through COUNTLESS times of self doubt about the whole relationship thing.

But, eh, that’s cool.  Maybe she didn’t call anyone.

2.  While I am hitting the ‘like’ button, and saying congratulations, and all that stuff that a good friend DOES… deep down inside a mass of resentment and jealousy is burning up within me.  All of my close friends (and even some of my not so close friends) are happily engaged, living with their significant others, or otherwise happily in some form of successful relationship.  In the meantime, I’m sitting at home on my own, and the closest thing I have a to a relationship is my computer (seriously).  I have quite possibly the best (or worst) ability to get myself involved in a series of romantic entanglements that will never come to fruition.   And, yes, some of that is my own fault – I do tend to get myself caught up in things that I don’t WANT to go any further.

This would have to be the worst case of sour grapes I have ever had.

Then, just to rub salt in the wound…

I sit there and look at my dream wedding dress while scoffing chocolate.  My god, not only am I an evil monster for not being happy when my best friend gets engaged – I’m also a pathetic whiny girl!

(Oh… I guess this is kinda important.  Of course I did the right thing and phoned my friend to say congratulations.  She did try to send me a message apparently, but as they were camping it wasn’t very successful.  And, I AM happy for her… I am just also simultaneously sad for me.  And the sad is most definitely winning right about now. *noms Easter Egg*)

Falling for someone is generally accidental.  Indeed, the word ‘falling’ seems to imply this sense of ‘oh oops, I just tripped over something and… well, hello there!’.  So, the question is, how does one pick one’s self back up and ‘un fall’?

I’m one of those crazy people who doesn’t do little falls.  If I happen to take a tumble, you can guarantee it’s going to be an ass-over-head, bruise all your extremities and break bones kind of affair.  I put a lot of it down to the sorts of things that generally draw me in – I’ve never been one to worry about physicality; in all honesty, I don’t much care what my significant others look like.  However, if they don’t have a few things, I find it hard to be at all attracted to them.

1. Intelligence – I could never bring myself to date a guy with the brain of a string bean.  If I can’t have a decent conversation with you about something serious, it’s just not going to work out.
2. Sense of humour – a guy needs to share my sense of humour.  Pretty simple.  It’s not that hard – if you have an appreciation for Black Books and dark humour, you are basically set.
3. Self confidence – I’m pathetically attracted to confident men.  Even if it often turns out that the confidence is feigned, or only in one or two areas.  I like people who have some faith in themselves, because it generally means they’ll also be able to have some faith in me.

Sure, there’s other things I like.  Nice eyes for one *swoons*.  A small romantic streak is nice as well.  So, when I find someone who ‘checks all my boxes’ as I once said, well, I find it hard to move on.  Even if he basically treats me like I don’t exist, or like I am utterly insignificant (which, hey, I probably am).

So, how DO I get over this?  Ideas?  Suggestions?  Midday movies to sob over?

Well, if anyone managed to track me down from my old WoW blog, I guess you deserve to here the full story, just for sheer perseverance’s sake.

For the record – I still maintain there was nothing wrong with my old lifestyle.  I’m just choosing not to live it anymore, because it’s not good for me.  That doesn’t mean I am condemning it, or saying it’s not good for anyone else.

I spend an inordinate amount of time on the internet.  I’m a bit of a social networking junkie.  I love chatting to the wonderful people I have met from all around the world on the internet.  I spend most of my downtime hanging around online while doing other things – the internet is great for multitasking.

Unfortunately, I seem to have a problem with meeting guys online.  I know that there is nothing wrong with meeting people online and forming relationships that way – I totally get it.  I am a little concerned though that it IS how I met my last two boyfriends, as well as the guy who was involved in the dismal mess that I am now trying to get over.  Clearly I either meet the most fantastic people online (partially true), or I am just easily convinced to fall for someone (perhaps also easily true).

In real life, people tend to annoy me more.  You have to actually put up with their little quirks and habits.  I know that I have several annoying things I do which don’t come across online (I’ll compulsively rub my hands together when nervous.  Or my eye will itch and I’ll rub it until it’s red and sore.  I fail at making conversation with strangers, and I invariably end up blushing when I talk to them, which leads to further embarrassment and MORE blushing).  Online, I am a much superior version of myself.  And I guess a lot of other people are too.

So, yeah, I find myself falling for the wrong people.  And then getting hurt when it turns out I am not as likable as they once thought.  So, partially because of this, and partially because I want to try and reclaim my pre-gaming life back, I basically threw my hands up and said ‘no more!’ to the WoW community.

So I’m going to try and be better at my job.  I’m going to try and be fitter and look and feel healthier.  I’m going to try to be a better house keeper.  Read more.  Eat less.  Be a better pet owner.  Spend more time socialising with people who are physically around me, even if I would much rather curl up on the couch and stay in.

And I’m not going to fall for anyone who blindly leads me on, or let myself get in over my head like I have in the past.  I’m just getting tired of it.

Yeah… it has sure been a while.  What with the last term of the year being crazy, some messy stuff with the ex that I just didn’t feel up to blogging about, and a general lack of time… nothing much has been written. 

The crazy thing is it feels like so much has happened, but I can’t think of a way to express it all.  Guess I am out of practise (practice?  is this a verb or a noun in this sentence?  It’s waaaay too late for my brain to work these things out).

So, in brief:

The Good of the last while

– Going on overseas holiday in TWO DAYS!  That entails the following things:

catching up with sister and her hubby in Japan for 9 days, with 5 days of skiing thrown in (I shall try not to die);

a little over a week in Vancouver, where I get to spend a little time with someone who is very dear to me, and also get to catch up with a friend who I haven’t seen since New Year’s Eve 08/New Year’s Day 09!  Every time I come home for a visit he is travelling… this time we happen to be going to the same place!

a little under 2 weeks trekking down the west coast of the US… doing whatever takes my fancy, and whatever I can afford.  Just me and my backpack baby!

– School excursion (camp for a week at the beach) bloody rocked.  Kids were great, no sleep was had, I drove the bus for an hour and managed to speed at least 5 times…. oops…. got an epic case of sunburn, ate some fuckawesome Greek food… oh yeah.

– Rapidly falling in love with the ‘person who is dear to me’ mentioned above.  He may or may not know that.  Not even sure if he reads this place.  Now I hope he doesn’t.  Shit.  Anyway, this is currently under good… but could very quickly move to bad.  Quite frankly, I know that I won’t get what I will end up wanting, and that will suck at that point.  For now though, everything regarding him is still firmly lumped under ‘awesome’.

…. think I mentioned the blog to him once… for some stupid reason.  Not sure why, but oh well.  Haven’t updated in so long that he may not even see this.

– My pets rock.  Seriously… they have settled down awesomely and keep me company through some rough nights.

– My timetable (at THIS point) for next year has NO JUNIORS.  Fuck yes.  Of course, it will probably change.

The Bad of the last while

– epic sunburn was truly epic.  Lip burnt so badly I couldn’t eat or drink for 2 days.  Boo.

– Fucking broke.  No money, debt up to my ears, oh kill me now.  Oh well, can’t take it with you, right?

The Ugly of the last while

– Broke it off with the ex (hence him being the ex) properly.  Now it’s all awkward conversations, while I wait for him to move on.

– My immediate superior at work got a new job.  Great for her, sucks for me, since the 2 people who would replace her are both toolbags of the highest degree.  Going to be a fun year!

So… that wasn’t so brief.

Might get some posts done while travelling, might not. <3!