Oh my...

I was certainly in a mood on Saturday.

Still don't regret a single word.

Thoughts on friends

I've been thinking about friends a lot the past couple of weeks. I finally had my long-awaited monthly meltdown last night because I hadn't been talking to G and I hadn't been blogging or journaling and I was keeping way too much shit inside me which I know I shouldn't do and I haven't been getting my butt out of the house often enough (I really do need to get out of the house every single day but lately it's been difficult) so there you go.

I thank God for CV because I do not know what I would do without her. I also thank God for G (and the library) because he helps keep me on an even keel and he's himself. (Please note that I put CV ahead of G in this list even though he's the number one person in my life.) I am grateful for TA because she didn't bother and harass me for her tablecloth even though I made her wait a long time and I'm sure she wanted to bug me. I would have wanted to bug me. I'm grateful for BSB because I know that she's going to be there for me no matter what. I was glad to see M&E last night because she knows what it's like to be mentally ill and her heart was in the right place and I think she was partially what I needed. I wish I saw RDVC more often because she makes me feel good about myself because she is just so incredibly nice and has a way of making the people around her happy to be there. I just want to gather these people in a huge monstrous hug and hold them tight and never let go.

There's no judgment from any of these people and I appreciate that so much. What's more, there's an understanding that maybe I do need some help now and then and a major understanding that just because it doesn't look like my leg is broken doesn't mean I'm not sick. Life has been a struggle for me the past few months (but I'm really glad I made it past July without a suicide attempt since July is a hot spot for me) and every one of you has helped me more than you know. Thank you for your acceptance and for your kindness and for sticking around.

I thought about phrasing this post in such a way that nobody would be offended then I realized that I don't care right now if you're offended or not. There are people not on this list who I still adore but they haven't been helpful (HD, DR, and OBK spring to mind) because they haven't been in a position where they've had to be or could be. Then there are people who aren't on this list because you didn't help the situation. You probably don't realize who you are and that's fine because I do.

You know who really bothers me though? The people who are dealing with their own mental illness who don't seem to understand that I'm dealing with mine. You'd think they'd be capable of cutting a person some slack and they aren't or they don't. I'd like to thank all of them for their understanding and their assistance in their removal from my life.

It's a good one this time

I'm in the Fairfax South County building using the facilities at Access Fairfax, minding my own business (as usual).

First I have to tell the woman next to me that I can hear the music coming out of her computer. Multiple times. She finally took the earbuds out and realized her mistake.

Then, the good one. The best one in several days. The man sitting next to me asks me what county we're in. My stupid-meter is set on very low and I asked him if he was serious, then looked at him like he was stupid and said, "Fairfax?"

Yeesh.

Shoot me now.

Had to share

Just so everyone knows why the jackass is now a jackass, here's a transcript of the voicemail he left me:

I can't believe this shit, that you could not pick up on me. It's bullshit, Carol. My name is [jackass]. You know who it is and, I think you're being very disingenuous, and I think it's really wrong of you. Call call me back and tell me that... um... it's not true. If you don't call me back and tell me that it's true, then I will absolutely disregard you. I'm sorry but that's the way I feel, okay? So anyway call me back, I hope you're doing well, and take care yourself. Alrighty then. Love you, mean it. Not. Bye.

 

Why in the world would I want someone in my life who spews this level of vileness at me when I choose (or not, perhaps I didn't hear it ring) not to answer my phone? Or maybe it's just that I don't do what he tells me to do or wants me to do.

 

Did I mention he's an alcoholic?

 

Yeah, reason #2 to not want this person in my life.

 

 

I found them!!!

I thought they had left me, but I was wrong. I'm still surrounded by whackadoodles!!

First, there was the bus driver who was convinced I didn't know what bus I was on and it was the wrong one in any case. No, really, I know my bus lines. I know that the 162 swings by the hospital AND the library and I got on it for a reason.

While on the bus, there was a woman who thought it was all about her. The bus driver points out to me that this is the library (no, really?), just as I'm reaching up to request the stop. Another person flips out that he's talking and she doesn't want to go to the library and why is he telling her that this is the library, because she wants to go to the hospital and this is the bus that goes to the hospital, right? Ummm, it isn't all about you. There are other people on the bus.

Then, when I left the library and went to get off at my next stop, there was the woman who decided she had to block the door otherwise the bus would run off without her and the people who were running to reach the bus. I said "excuse me" twice, she didn't budge and I knew I could win that game. So I stood there, blocking progress, until she moved and let me off the bus. That was fun.

G and I went into Old Towne on Wednesday, via the REX because it's a really easy ride. A woman who's been on the bus for a while leans over when we're at Huntington and asks someone if this is the bus to King Street. Well, gee, it only says that its destination is King Street Station on the front and why didn't you look before you got on, you twit? Then, on our way back, the same woman walks over and asks if this is the stop for the REX to Huntington. Not that she's going to Huntington, but, really, the bus from King Street only goes one way (south). We waited to see if she asked at Huntington if this was the bus to Fort Belvoir. Thank heavens that didn't happen.

And, of course, there are always the people at AccessFairfax who sit by the printer and look at you like you have a third eye in the middle of your forehead when you have the nerve to go over and pick up your printouts. It's there for all of us and we can share and we'd also appreciate it if you didn't flip your nasty hair and hit us with it. Twice. (And then there was the guy who freaked out because I had something in the middle of his stuff and what in the world was that. Yeesh. Again, it isn't all about you.)

But the best whackadoodles are the insidious ones. You know, the ones just stop speaking to you and make the massive mistake of leaving an unfinished project in your possession that you were working on for them. Now I get to wonder when or if she's going to grow balls enough to ask for it back. (Yes, it's been frogged because I'm not a saint.)

Just the same old whackadoodle

You gotta love it... I appear to have acquired a permanent whackadoodle in my life. Goodness knows every time I hear his name, I get brand new blog fodder.

First, he has a court date because he was arrested on a marijuana possession charge. Except it's the same day as the first day of the Allgood music festival, so he's decided to blow off the court date. The man is facing jail time but it's more important that he not miss his music festival so there you go. Is this where I mention that he's also refusing to spend money on an attorney? He's decided to go pro se. And that's all that needs to be said on that incident.

And then there's the next one, which also happens to be one of my pet peeves. If I ask you to do something, then I owe you for that. If you do something for me that I don't ask you to do for your own reasons, especially if it doesn't specifically benefit me, then I don't owe you squat. Guess what my whackadoodle does on a regular basis.

Seems JTMA (why, yes, JTA has received an upgrade) isn't fond of the person he's staying with at the moment so he tries to find other things to do that don't involve being at home. (The person isn't any happier with JTMA than JTMA is with him, but it's his house so it's his rules.) The other day, he decided he was 17 years old and went to G's place of work to hang with him. And, yes, we know that that's something teenagers do which is why G kind of chased him off since G is most definitely not a teenager and doesn't want to lose his job. Now, JTMA came there of his own free will to pick G up and possibly hang with him in order to avoid going home. First, G comes out with a chicken salad sandwich that was provided by the boss and JTMA wants a bite and whines when G points out how small the sandwich is about why he can't just have one bite. (This is also an old story where JTMA is concerned; whatever you have he always wants just one little bite.)

G needed to make a couple stops which he would have done on his own had JTMA not been there. The punchline here is that when G wanted to go home, JTMA pitched a fit, informed him that gas isn't free, and told him to go buy him a six-pack of Natural Light (yes, it's beer, and not one I'd ever heard of before meeting JTMA.) G demurs, JTMA insists, and G goes back into the store and buys him a six-pack. G then spends the next couple days going to meetings because the last thing he needed to do was buy beer. And, of course, when G told me what had happened, I was pissed. I was so pissed if JTMA had shown up at the front door, he'd have gotten ripped up one side, down the other, and through the middle because Ms. Protective would have shown up and informed JTMA just what a Massive Asshole he is. Really and truly off-pissing.

JTMA is a control freak who doesn't really think of anyone else, or should I say he appears to do something out of the kindness of his own heart but he's really holding a chip which he cashes in when he decided he wants something or he's mad at you or something. Oh, and did I mention he's an alcoholic which is the last thing G needs to have in his life right now, but I know how hard it is to cut ties even though you know you should. I knew that I needed to cut ties (with an exception or two) because of my depression but I didn't and now I'm paying the price. As someone I know once said, "You're depressed? Depression is a debilitating illness? But it doesn't look like your leg is broken." And, yes, he understood exactly how debilitating depression is. So G needs to make new friends who aren't alcoholics or druggies and I know exactly how difficult that is.

Hockey, forever and ever

When the score was 1-0 last night in the Capitals game against Winnipeg, I stated that it was over and the Capitals had won the Southeast Division. The next thing I heard was a snort at my early call of the game, only to have someone eat his snort later in the evening when the score was a 5-3 final. Someone should really learn to have more faith in me, shouldn't he?

And I have an annoyance with some of the professional hockey analysts. I saw a goal breakdown between Steven Stamkos and Alex Ovechkin, with Ovechkin being criticized for most of his goals coming against the Southeast Division, which is apparently filled with pansy teams. (Of course, they fight hard against the pansy designation, but they should all realize now that they're pansies and roll over and play dead. Besides, it isn't like the Southeast has ever produced one Stanley Cup winner, let alone two, right? Oops, forgot about Carolina and Tampa Bay.) Stamkos was praised for the majority of his goals coming against the remainder of the Eastern Conference while, once again, Ovechkin is a pansy goal-scorer.

My curiosity is this: Stamkos and Ovechkin are both in the Southeast Division. If the Southeast Division is such a cakewalk (yeah, try playing Carolina and Tampa six times a year), why doesn't Stamkos have even more goals than he does. After all, if Ovechkin scores 56% (or whatever his percentage is) of his goals against the Southeast, shouldn't Stamkos have a similar, if not higher percentage? Since scoring against the Southeast is such a piece of cake, after all, and Stamkos is far superior to Ovechkin, why is Ovechkin's percentage of Southeast goals higher than Stamkos? I love it how the analysts like to compare apples and oranges and actually occasionally make it sound reasonable to someone who isn't able to think for him or herself.

Okay, 'nuf said. I'm done whining now.

Expiration Dates

Okay, if you know me, you probably know about me and the expiration date. If you don't, then it goes something like this: 90 days, out the door. So if I'm seeing someone, they get 90 days and then I'm bored and they are out the door and it's over. It's worked for me without fail with one exception.

I haven't shared the expiration date with G because, well, I just didn't. By the time I thought maybe I should, I decided that maybe I shouldn't. If you'd seen the reaction to my April Fool's joke on him (not the one from FB, where I told the world that we'd gotten married), you'd understand.

G's 90 days are about up.

I've been fretting about it because I don't want him to have an expiration date. And, yes, I know what that means. If I don't want him to have an expiration date, then he won't have one. Except that lack of an expiration date puts him in that rarified air that currently only contains one resident. And if you know who that resident is, you know how serious this is.

This is truly serious.

And, as an aside, how 'bout them Caps??? I know I'm prolly going to be wearing my jersey tonight while we don't listen to the radio because 1500AM has entirely too much static and they aren't on 106.7 any longer. (Rotten strike, I hate you.)

Amusing anecdote: There's a homeless colony (for lack of a better word) down on Route 1 just before the Burger King that now has a mailbox. I know about this colony because a friend of mine tried to join it because they were homeless and she was homeless, except they ran her off. Right fast. The other day, G showed the location to JTA, telling him it was a homeless colony. JTA declared that it wasn't a homeless colony, but instead some sort of government conspiracy. Before you roll your eyes at that one, you should also know that JTA also calls the jet trails you see behind airplanes "chem trails" because there's a government conspiracy to poison and kill everyone by spewing chemicals out of the engines of those big planes. Yeah, really. No, it isn't always possible to be around him, but I will tell you that it's kind of interesting having your own personal whackadoodle around.

Annoyances

So I've been, essentially, kicked out of Gartlan because I'm not sick enough. Yeah, sure, whatever. It really annoys me sometimes that people don't believe I am mentally ill just because I don't look like I am. Seriously, we look like everyone else until we start talking to walls (and we only talk to the walls because the walls talk to us). For those of us who don't talk to walls, this is really irritating because I cover extremely well so people see what they want to see and don't see the me who might be having a horrible day.

Or because my hospitalizations didn't start until this past August, so I'm not really depressed, right? Wrong. I was having severe panic attacks at the age of six. Go ahead, tell me I didn't learn to cope with the depression until Mark's illness made it so that I couldn't cope any longer.

It is truly off-pissing.

You have to wonder...

I was told a couple months ago that someone wanted to be friends with me until one of us died. And said person hasn't spoken to me, or has barely acknowledged my existence, for the last couple of months. In fact, he has barely spoken to me since the last time I saw him at the end of January. Sometimes I feel as though I shouldn't be nearly as trusting as I am. Gee, I wonder why.

And I had a whackadoodle moment today!!!

It wasn't directed at me personally, but instead affected an entire bus full of people. I got on the bus at my stop, like I usually do. Paid my fare, sat down and hoped we'd be at Ladson Lane before the next bus I  needed to catch (we were, so that's all good). This woman gets up from her seat and pulls the cord to request the next stop. We get there and she says, "oh no, not this one, the next one." Ummm... okay. We get to the next stop and she doesn't get off. She had to be informed a couple of times that this was the last stop before Ladson Lane. The bus driver closes the doors, opens the doors, closes the doors and the woman finally says that she's going to WalMart. Ummm... that's two more stops, not a total of one, or two, but a minimum of four. I wish people would learn to count or at least have a clue where they're going instead of making us stop needlessly at every single stop while they figure it out.

Been a while...

Why, yes, it has been a while...

What can I say, I've been a tad preoccupied with my real life, such as it is.

However, I went to Old Towne with G on Friday and we stopped in at fibre space and it turned into old home week. G was an incredibly good sport about that and I really appreciate it. I was also informed that I have to keep blogging because not blogging makes people worry. So very sorry about that. Really don't make people worry on purpose. It's purely accidental.

And I had a lovely birthday this weekend, brought to me by G himself. I don't know what I'd do without that man.

Even JTA may have redeemed himself by buying me three (yes, three) balls of Rowan Lima in the colorway Chile. Now that is some serious scrumptiousness on my fingers and I adore the braided construction. And it's so much better than the novelty stuff he got me at the thrift store. However, I may have to explain the concept of aging in stash to him because he feels I should have already started knitting with it.

Now I'm off to look up baby sweaters because my wonderful cousin has requested one for her granddaughter's soon-to-be son. Plus I need to finish up my Heart Quilt baby blanket and that is a pain because the instructions aren't quite right. Darned good thing I know how to re-interpret these things, huh?

Have I mentioned that I don't know what I'd do without G? Yeah, because I really don't.

Where to start...

JTA has just gotten on my last nerve. I didn't even know I had a nerve left where he was concerned, but apparently I did. It's gone now.

JTA stopped by G's the other day and since I wasn't in the mood to tolerate someone who merely tries to not start drinking before noon, I got up and went into the bedroom and laid down. Best way I knew of to keep my mouth shut, per G's request. To those who know and love me, that's done now. I have been disrespected for the last time.

Yes, JTA doesn't particularly like women. In fact, JTA is a conspiracy theorist who doesn't like much of anyone.

He went to use the bathroom and the next thing I hear is him asking G if he needs to flush. G says "yes, of course" and JTA replies, loud enough for me to here, but not G, that he had to ask since this was a bachelor pad.

Ummm... no, it isn't. But apparently that point is lost on JTA. He wants me gone so he's going to try to passive-aggressive me out of G's life. Now if only G would see that one coming.

G was  informed that I'm done keeping my mouth shut and I'm really done being disrespected. Now I sound more like me.

Wowsa

I have turned into quite the prolific poster.

Not today though... change in meds and some baggage to consider.

I'm a Weather Girl

It's raining men!

So I have G in my life now and I am so very happy about that. What happens? On my way to South County this morning, this stray man who is obviously from Africa because he has a very thick accent slows down his walk a bit and asks where I'm headed and I told him. He asks for my phone number and I had to tell him (oh darn) that I have a boyfriend. When it finally sinks in, he says okay and starts walking at his normal pace, leaving me behind.

Not that I would have given him my phone number, but I have to wonder about the timing. I think that the happy is shining through and I also think that I'm a softer, gentler me because of it. The blush is in full force because of the happy and I know that people have noticed. Yesterday, when G picked me up at South County, we had to walk past a group of guys from Kennedy. Instant silence and every single eye was on the two of us. I asked G later if he'd noticed and he said that there seemed to be this strange silence/tension when we walked past and I told him what it was about. I don't know why the guys did that and they're absolutely normal when it's just me. It's just when it's the two of us that they get weird.

Now what I really want to know is where all these men have been the last four years. Until CV introduced me to DH, there was essentially nothing and no one. Well, that isn't entirely true, but one date in four years and that one sans teeth does not count.

JTA stopped by last night to deliver the new couch and I also got to meet Rob. JTA was doing some major suck up because he knew he'd been a jerk and I think Rob might have been all gaga because he finally got to meet me since he's heard so darned much about me from G. Rob wanted to dance and since I didn't know how to say no gracefully, I danced with Rob who isn't a bad dancer, but isn't my preferred partner. He made a comment about how long it had been since I'd danced and I told him that it had probably been the day before. He just said G dances? Oh, yeah, all the time. Of course Rob also got a little handsy and I told him about it and now G is also going to tell him to keep his hands to himself and that feels kinda good. I swear though, I have danced more in the last few days than in the past ten years.

And now for the obligatory whackadoodle story.

A little background: you get 45 minutes minimum on a computer at the library. When your time is up, you get a two-minute warning so you have time to close up what you're doing and get out of the way. What do I get? I get the woman whose crap is spread all over the computer, who hasn't put anything away, who hasn't cleaned anything up, and who is trying to log back on even though the log on screen has indicated that the computer is reserved for me. Then she pisses at me because she didn't clean up her mess in time and her flash drive is still in the computer. So I literally had to throw her off of the computer and, honestly, I'd expect better behavior out of a 12-year-old than she was exhibiting.

Now I know that you can just pull the flash drive out because nobody has logged into the computer, so it technically isn't active. What does she do? She screeches at me that I'm trying to destroy her flash drive. Why can't I just do her this one little favor and eject her flash drive? And why should I have to clean up her mess? And, yes, I told her so. Of course, since I'm always the bad guy, I was obviously the one who was just turning this into a massive drama. I informed her that no, I was not, she was the one making the scene, not me. Since her stuff was strewn about the floor by then, I think I got to win that one.

So now we all know. Whackadoodles still love me and they always will. If only G could get that sign off my forehead, instead of just threatening to put a "Property of G" sign there... 

This is a new one...

I don't think I've ever had to compete before with another man for a man's attention. And if you can get past that sentence, here goes...

G has a friend named John, hereinafter referred to as JTA (John the Asshole).

Last night, JTA decided he was going to cook for us, so while G was at his meeting, JTA came over and started cooking. I was journalling, listening to 94.7 on the radio, and welcomed the company. That was my first mistake.

Being a relatively polite person, I picked up my journal from where I was on the couch and moved to the dining room table in order to be a tad more sociable, but I continued with my journalling because I'm a woman and I can multi-task. JTA asked for the radio to be turned up so I obliged him. And that's when trouble started.

He bitched about my music, to the point where Coldplay was on the radio, which I really like, and JTA walks over, leans down to the tuner and starts going "blah blah blah" or whatever he said. It was rude, to say the least. He informed me that he'd had as much of that as he could take of my music and he was turning it off. In the middle of the song. Not a "do you mind if I turn it off?" Not a "hey, I'm flipping this after the next song, what can we agree on listening to?" Just. "I don't like this. Fuck you. I'm turning it off."

No, that was not the end.

He put Fleetwood Mac (talk about trite and insipid and I actually like Fleetwood Mac) on and turned the music up so incredibly loud that all I could do was put my hands over my ears and run for the door because I couldn't take it.

No, that was not the end.

I'm sitting there journalling, but still chit chatting. And suddenly, I get slammed for journalling. How dare I journal when he's there and when he came over early specifically to talk to me and spend time with me. Well, gee, I thought I'd been multi-tasking. Silly me. Oh, and he wanted to read it. G knows better than to ask to read it.

No, that was not the end.

He was looking at a bottle of hot sauce I'd bought earlier in the day and I mentioned that it was reserved for my making wings one night and that I'd gotten the recipe from my friend, Lee. His first question: is Lee a woman? Well, no, he isn't. So JTA asks if Lee and I are lovers. Then he backed off but it was too late. I informed him that Lee and I are just friends, no matter what may or may not have happened in the past.

No, that was not the end.

By that point I was so pissed off I couldn't see straight and I was sucking it up because of G. Because I know that JTA is one of G's friends. So when G got home, I went in to lay down because I knew I was going to start crying and I wanted to keep it to myself. JTA takes advantage and starts bitching at G that nobody gets to see him anymore because G, of course, now has a girlfriend. (Yes, I have excellent hearing.) I suddenly realized that I was running and hiding and that that really isn't me, so I was going to go out and give him a piece of my mind and G talked me out of it because JTA had been drinking and, frankly, JTA is an alcoholic (in my not-so-humble opinion).

All this from a man who wants me to help him with his computer problems. And everyone who knows me knows exactly what he can do with his computer problems right now, don't you?

I feel like it's a tug-of-war over G and I won't do that to him. G is going to have to make his own decision about who he wants to spend time with or who he doesn't. But I did warn G that the gloves are off and I'm not about to suck anything up anymore.

Now that sounds a lot more like me.

It never rains...

So I discovered the other morning that LS had taken up residence. Or at least he did for Sunday and Monday.

Why me? Why is the smartass always the one who gets in trouble? Why did it take me so darned long to figure that out?

Sunday night, the first person to see me was R. He starts laughing, asks where I've been, I blush, he laughs harder and starts making comments. Okay, one down.

Then I head downstairs. And there's C, "Sweet Lord Jesus, she's back and she's okay!" And my book is now up in front of my face because I'm even redder than I was and I have J and L both yelling at me because they didn't know where I was and they were ready to storm the castle, but they couldn't because they didn't know where the castle was and thank god I'm okay. So now I have a phone number I am to call if I'm not coming back.

It felt kinda good although I'm very sorry I worried everyone.

And now, for LS, the whackadoodle. Yes, I do mean Whackadoodle. He's still loony, but I may have fixed the stalker part. Time will tell since I don't know when I'll see him again, if ever and the "if ever" part seriously works for me. I'm sitting there clinging to any and every man I can in an effort to keep him away from me. And it's still all "Carol... Carol... Carol......" as I am running out the door. Not answering. Praying he gets the hint. Scared to death he won't and thank heavens someone upgraded himself because I was thinking that I might have to invoke the "boyfriend" word in order to make LS go away.

That was Monday morning.

Tuesday morning was better and worse, all at the same time. I came out of the ladies room and there's LS in the middle of the common area. Lovely, huh? Yeah and I get "Carol... Carol... Carol..." as I'm heading to the stairs to run down them and escape. I went outside and there's LS, smoking a cigarette (deal breaker! deal breaker!) and I see some stray guy who I've never spoken to before and I smile and chit chat with him for a minute, then S comes outside and I chit chat and laugh and giggle with him for a minute before heading back inside.

Still not sure that'll work, but that was surely a big fat hint if ever there was one.

Then, my third or fourth favorite smartass, R, tells me I wouldn't have these problems if I didn't smile. Has he met me? Does he not know that if I'm breathing, I'm either smiling or flirting, the two not being mutually exclusive? I even did a google search and found Saint Agatha who is a patron saint of torture victims. Since the last prayer of intercession seems to be working, I'm going to try it again and maybe she'll be able to keep LS away from me.


Wish me luck!

Ut oh...

My brain doesn't appear to be working today. I seem to be a tad incoherent.

I put a blog post up earlier and maybe I'll revisit it tomorrow.

Maybe.

Oh boy

Another day, another weekend long gone. And, boy, one minute it was Friday afternoon and five minutes later, it was Sunday. I think I'd like to have a weekend once in a while that lasts forever, but not because I'm bored. I want it to last forever because it just does. Or at least more than five minutes. I don't think I'm asking for too terribly much.

Maybe I am.

It appears that I'll be cooking dinner at some point in the near future. I do love to cook. I was told at one point this weekend that someone got excited when he heard that I knit because that meant that I could also cook. Yeah, well, he got that part right anyway.

So I'll be cooking one day this coming week. Pecan Turkey, mashed potatoes (from scratch), and some sort of green vegetable. No dessert because I can't have them and he isn't fond of sweets. Although maybe I could find something savory instead.

Hmmm...

No blog fodder

Well, I think we can safely write LG off as blog fodder. If you have the link to my private blog, you might get to read something.

Don't hold your breath.

Although I will admit that it wasn't quite as random as I originally thought it was.

Odds and ends

Yep, I got a new one yesterday. Some guy picked me up in the library (I was informed that he picked me up rather than vice versa.) Turns out we're both Civil War buffs although I'm much more likely to want to go walk a battlefield than he is. However, I did get a phone number and an half-assed invitation to watch a Civil War movie with him. Will I? Not on a first date, but, yeah, why not? Eventually. Amazingly, NDC is much more cautious than DC ever was.

Now, what happened yesterday that I knew I was going to be blogging about today... ummm... ummm... Library Guy (LG) was the closest I came to a whackadoodle although JB asked how I do what I do and would I please teach her. How do I teach someone the smile? And the eyes? I can't. However, when LG walked up, one of my books was sitting on the chair next to me and he asked if anyone was sitting there. I grabbed my book and said that it was just my book and it could sit on the floor just fine and I smiled. JB looked at me and said that that was really clever. What can I say? Vintage me.

I also told someone last night that her butt looked so good in her jeans that if we were both lesbians, I'd have to jump her. Thought she was gonna collapse on me. (Her butt looked really good in those jeans.)

And then there's my pet rant of the day: You can either talk to me or not. Pick one. Stick to it. Yes, CV, I'm talking about you. And now I'm running and ducking.

Gotta see when CV's next gig is... Maybe LG won't mind going even if it is loud and he can't chat.

See? Feisty. I'm firing on all cylinders this week.

ETA: LG just walked up to me, said my name, and put his hand on my shoulder. Twice. I threw the smile and said that I had been going to call him later. Looks like I'm "stuck" now. Very giddy.