My Response to Bad Break-Up

At last here is my response to Bad Break-Up's email from last Thursday the 25th. This is the abridged version, believe it or not, hahaha. He has yet to respond, so who knows if he's at all interested in actually keeping in touch. We haven't spoken in almost 2 years... and for those of you convinced I'm contacting him merely because I'm single... in the past 2 years I've been single, for about a year and a half.

"Your concerns are all valid and relevant…

I certainly have a penchant for rehashing past mistakes. It has been a pattern in my life not just with relationships, but with friendships as well. By no means can I say that I’ll never repeat this behavior in future relationships. I am more aware of it now, and I try really hard to be better. What I can say is that I strongly believe I am far beyond rehashing with you.

I wouldn’t have contacted you from an emotional standpoint. Any negative feelings I had associated with our relationship have long ago subsided. When I think of our past, I can hardly remember why our relationship dissolved. The feelings of anger and hurt have passed. It’s funny because I never think that they will. I think that I’ll harbor the sadness forever, which is why I kept that sign above my door… the reminder that This Too Shall Pass, and it has passed.

With that said, I do not wish to reconnect in order to reevaluate what happened in our relationship. In our lives we don’t allow ourselves to be completely vulnerable with many people. We do not take the time to truly get inside someone else’s mind and heart. It seems so unnatural to have this closeness with a person and then completely extricate them from your life…

... As individuals we often bottle up our entire relationship with a person in how it ended. We forget how it began. We forget the reasons we once told that person we loved him. I feel far enough away from any anger I did have to actually see this now. And yes, a lot of it is to find peace with a situation that was/is an open wound. Doesn’t hurt anymore, but still hasn’t completely healed. I also see this as a wrong, of mine, that I would like to make right.

… but I don’t blame you at all at this point. We both acted and reacted in the ways of which we were capable. Actions and reactions always stem from some place, and wherever we both were in our lives, we just didn’t connect well enough to keep it going.

I'm also at a point in my life where I've very much settled into who I am, as much as anyone can really do… Things make a little more sense now. With my mind no longer occupied by those what now seem trivial questions, I’ve been able to reflect on my past.

... To be honest, the events that occurred toward the end of our relationship now seem almost laughable. When I think about it, I get all wide-eyed, like 'oh my fucking god did I really act like way?' It's as though I’ve sobered up and am remembering the night before with a cringe-cringe…

I can’t imagine ever not caring or wondering about you. I know I’m all over the place with this… talking myself in circles… but ultimately, this is how I feel about things, and I would like to keep in contact if you have any desire."

- Miss Curious

There are countless reasons for contacting him... and it's hard to be at his mercy... to be in a position where he calls the shots... where he decides that he'd ever want to keep in touch... I feel like I'm just waiting for a message to pop-up... like waiting by the fucking phone or something...
I just remember the friendship we had before we even started dating. We were friends for about 4 years, I think. He apparently had a crush on me for a little while... I had a boyfriend... went to the Peace Corps... did this - did that... gave him advice with the ladies... and then one day saw something more... classic onset to dating a friend... it's sad to see a friendship go... I take them too seriously sometimes. Hm.

I almost just want to see him one last time... to leave on a good note... have a beer, a chat, a hug, and good-bye.

"Without"

Yes, Vegas was WITHOUT... without the hospital visits and lost sorority sisters and pants and random men with sweaty armpits.

And unfortunately, I didn't even have enough to drink... (insert sarcasm)


The best we got this year was... "WHO WANTS TO HIT THE FLOOR FIRST!?!?"

And she did... Saturday she did not leave our floor... but hey, we all see it here with our very own eyes - Mrs. H volunteering for the job.

I did get some of my Michael Jackson moves in on the dance floor with the others jealously looking on...

Sorry LaSassy... try again next year!

We ended the trip with our Yard Margaritas... apparently my training's been going really well... all this yard made me do was pee.

And now it's back to work... and I'm fucking tired.

TOMORROW'S POST:

I'll finally post my response to Bad Break-Up... it must not have been a very good one because he hasn't written since. Well, fuck me.

For those of you who want a little more insight into why I contacted Bad Break-Up, see my last comment to Kellyd from yesterday's post :)

Back on Tuesday...

Bad Break-Up's Response

(I almost hate to post this personal correspondence, but I can't compromise my dedication to this blog... here are just a few excerpts from his email... the italics are not my responses to him, but just my thoughts to a few things he said... his response was very long... and very appreciated. This has always been such a black mark in my past, and I'm glad to face it instead of ignore it... My email response to him will be posted Tuesday... I will be out of town.)

Delighted as I am to hear from you, I do wonder as to why you have chosen to write me. What events have you experienced in your past relationships that would have you question your role in our past relationship? You have both the talent and vice for revisiting past wounds and attempting to analyze them or attempt to perceive them in a different light in order to make peace with them and yourself.

- and vice is right… he’s so right about this.

When we were speaking to each other long after we broke up, I maintained that you would sadistically steer the conversation toward the negative aspects of our relationship in order to bombard me with the ways in which I erred with you. While your accusations were spot on, I found myself feeling as if I was being charged again and again for the same crimes. I made drastic mistakes in our relationship and was sorry that you had to suffer for my shortcomings.

- yes yes yes – I am so sadistic in that sense… at that time, I was just so close to those emotions… I wasn’t ready to let it go… and wow, I never knew he actually heard me… I never knew that he was taking some responsibility for our failure… he was always the silent thoughtful type… who, in his silence, made me feel as though he saw no fault on his behalf

I need you to reassure me that any future correspondence will be done so in a manner by which I might be an asset to your day/life; nothing positive can come from us speaking in depth of our past together. I cannot revise this time in our life nor erase any hurt I caused. While you weren’t the only one who suffered when we were together, our suffering stemmed from the same source (that would be me). I have never forgotten this and continually remind myself of how one should not behave in a relationship of any sort.

- again, a huge WOW, I cannot believe he’s taking so much responsibility for the dissolution of our relationship… he’s definitely taking way more than he needs to… well, I don’t even know if it’s a matter of responsibility… relationships are haphazard… we both did the best we could.

With that said, let us see where future communication takes us. Weve undergone many emotional states in our involvements with each other, however as mentioned before: This too shall pass. Heres to the potential for an upswing,

Bad Break-Up

- This too shall pass was a sign I had above my door… it was a sign that KriKri actually made me years ago… after I moved out, he visited my new place… I saw the sign, and we discussed its implications… but at that point, this had not passed. I do believe that it now has.


LOOK FORWARD TO NEXT WEEK'S BLOGGING... IT WILL BE BOTH MY RESPONSE TO BAD BREAK-UP AS WELL AS THE JUICY DETAILS OF THIS WEEKEND'S SORORITY TRIP TO VEGAS - OH SHIT!!! WILL THERE BE LOST PANTS AND HOSPITAL VISITS FOR ALCOHOL POISONING?!?!? PLEASE NOTE: NEITHER OF THOSE OCCURENCES WERE MY OWN TRAGEDIES... THAT TIME)

Bad Break-Up Emailed Me Back!!!

He emailed me yesterday... of course, I was so nervous that not having an immediate response freaked me out... but now, he's written, and I'll post later about details from his reponse and mine to his.

Rest In Peace

Bad Break-Up still hasn't emailed me back. I can't blame him. Things ended so badly... you know a party at my house where he got kicked out and there was this huge scene... a scene of all scenes.... yelling and screaming and threatening.

Being so far from such emotional involvement, it seems ridiculous. It seems like some cliched scene in a movie where the two lead actors win oscars for their dramatic roles. Unreal. But it did happen. Fuck. It was real. It's part of my past that is so hard to look at.

I don't wish to have any part of my past repressed because of how badly it went. I often stop thoughts of him and that night at our Purple Rain Prince Party short in their tracks because
it was like fucking Post Traumatic Stress Disorder... and that's just not cool with me.

I want to be able to look back on my life and have peace with how I lived. This situation is the one instance in which I have no peace. None.

I know I should just let him be... he clearly doesn't want to hear from me, but I think I'm going to email him and say, "I understand that you don't care to have contact with me, but I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I am so sorry."

The Ghost of Christmas Past

Having tried to get in contact with the ex, Bad Break-Up, has me looking into my past of altercations… past of mistakes… the past of moments I try not to think about because we can’t change our pasts.

And I think about those moments in my life where I’ve argued with people and lost friendships or great love turned into great hate or quit jobs or got drunk and been “THAT girl” that loose canon or friends saying, “that’s just how Miss Curious is”… I know how she is… she’s fucked… she knows she’s fucked and she can’t do a damn thing about it. fuck.

I hate so many things I’ve done and said… and I so badly want to go back to all of those moments and people and say that I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry for wronging anyone… I’m so sorry for not being strong enough to stop myself because I knew what I was doing and I did it anyway… and I’m just so sorry.

As much as I’d like to think things will change - that I’ll be better… I never am… I can see right through myself… I can stand outside of Miss Curious and yell and scream for her to not do that or this, but it never seems to work.

Oh GOD, I’m so fucking predictable. Like right now, because I have no cat to complain about or boy to freak out about, I’ll start looking in all those dark corners to stir up some shit in my life. I didn’t need to open the “Bad Break-Up” door… nope, no need. But I did… I did just to feel something… just to distract my mind from realizing I exist.

And no need to tell me that I have to learn from my mistakes or I’m going to have to live this life a hundred more times until I fucking get it… I don’t fucking care… make me perfect now… this is all bullshit… sometimes I’m just so over myself. Just over it.

Now I'm somewhere I am not supposed to be
And I can see things I know I really shouldn't see
And now I know why now, now I know why
Things aren't as pretty on the inside

- Only, Nine Inch Nails

The Beauty of MySpace:

For those of you who aren’t MySpace savvy, you can send someone a message and see when they’ve read it. Bad Break-Up read my message (see yesterday’s post), and he didn’t respond. And I know he’s probably thinking, “she can’t just email me out of the blue and expect me to jump.” After all, I did tell him to never call me again or I’d call his mom. I just thought maybe we could have a laugh… but it looks like the damage is irreparable. Will I have to live this over again?

Remember Me?

we dated once... a long time ago... i think it ended pretty badly... some hate here - hate there... it's too bad things happened that way. hmm. maybe you'll never forgive me... but i've long forgotten any negative feelings and still wonder how you are.

i ran bay to breakers yesterday and thought of you... wondered if you were participating in the annual centipede.... wondered if you won once again.

i suppose i won't write too much because maybe you'll have just deleted this already, but i really hope you write me back... what happened between us was a result of overwhelming emotions... vulnerability and love all had to be there for things to come crashing down... and just because we parted in the way that we did, doesn't mean that i've forgotten the friendship we once had.

if you have a moment, drop me a line... maybe your telephone number if you could even do that? i know you're in a relationship per your profile, so it's nothing like that... i just want to know how you are.

- miss curious

I just MySpaced this ex of mine... he and I lived together in Berkeley... I thought we were going to get married.... he thought so too... it ended as badly as a relationship can end... we unplugged the phone on each other mid-conversation... i wanted to push him out the window. i really did. it was this relationship that fully emerged me into the world of Tori Amos,

"You gave him you blood
And your warm little diamond
He likes killing you after you're dead...
I shaved every place where you been boy
I said I shaved every place where you been yes"
- Blood Roses

"Cut my hands up every time I touch you...
I tell you there're pieces of me you've never seen
Maybe she's just pieces of me you've never seen ."
- Tear In Your Hand

UH. God. Just thinking about those tearful nights driving through the hills of Oakland... the heartbreak of all heartbreaks. Such sadness. Thinking that I'd never get over this. But we always do. And here I am over it... so over it that all is forgiven. And I still wonder about him.

Since I so enjoy plastering the faces of my men online:

I WONDER IF HE'LL EMAIL ME BACK. I HOPE HE DOES. I DON'T KNOW WHY. BUT I REALLY DO.

Hide Your Underwear!!!

Working with about 10 gay men, I’ve discovered more than I wanted to know about how fucking crass men really are. I’m fucking crass too, so I can hold my own… but shit, sometimes I get wide-eyed.

One of the more interesting things I’ve learned, and of course these are generalizations, is that most of them love the smell of a man’s used underwear. They like the sweaty balls scent apparently. As we all know by now, scents have a lot to do with sexual attraction. I know whenever I’m into a guy, I end up loving and missing his scent… sweaty balls, not so much, but you catch my drift.

A few of these men have even admitted to swiping a pair of men’s boxers from someone they knew, a lover, a friend… even a neighbor who just happened to leave his dirty laundry by the washer and dryer. They have even admitted to using these scent stained boxers or briefs to later jack-off… apparently it was such a turn on.

And then, Miss Curious, has even had a boyfriend who admitted to keeping a pair of her dirty panties to smell later while he spanked his monkey. I thought it was more of an isolated incident that I could laughed at and think was kind of hot at the time. But really, there doesn’t seem to be anything isolated about him taking my panties… it seems that men everywhere gay and straight just love them’ stanky crotch… Hmmm.

I can whole-heartedly say, however, that I do not think smelling a pair of men’s underwear will ever get me off. But that’s just me.

Green Eyes often asks how I think of this stuff… well, I’ve never held back on being disgusting, so last night I went for a run… I wore these pants that don’t let my genitalia breathe very much, and as a result, my genitalia sweat more than usual. While getting ready to hop in the shower, my childhood curiosity sparked, and I decided to take a closer smell. I realize that I have done this on occasion… I’m not sure why exactly I did it or have done it… but I did.

I suppose I’m kind of fascinated with what we all consider gross. My scent was and is fascinating to me. Yup, that classic pussy smell… I just had to get all close and personal with it… but I must admit, I could smell it without even getting too close… in fact, I remember on a hot day sitting in a car on my way to a sorority slumber party in Sacramento, I was again wearing those HOT pants, and I could smell my pussy sitting there, fully clothed… I thought it was gross… but hey, it’s natural.

Typical Situation

The Brother and I had a long talk last night. I went to the bathroom twice. I took a phone call. Called him back. He took a phone call. Called me back. I put away all my laundry.

His girlfriend broke up with him for a girl. He always knew she was still uncertain about her sexuality, but he rolled with it anyway. He never seemed that into her. And the break-up hadn’t come as a surprise.

Since technically, she broke-up with him, his ego was slightly hurt, but what seems to happen more often than not, the dumper calls back a couple days later and says she’s made a mistake, and she wants to get back together. The power then shifts, and the dumpee feels redeemed because now he can say, “sorry you’ve got too much to figure out. We’re simply at different points in our lives. Bah-bye.”

We all need that redemption.

He tells me he got a new DVD player and wonders if I’d like to go over soon to watch something… a movie? He then throws in thee, “don’t try and make out with me though,” flirtatious comment.

Since I’m super mature, I sing, “The Brother wants to make-out with me, The Brother wants to make-out with me!!!”

And it’s true. He does.

And sometimes I want to. Sometimes I don’t.

It’s a wait and see.

After we hung up, I started thinking about the implications of us hooking-up. I know it’s all too common for exes to continuously hook-up if they’re both single. It’s just easy. But things will always get a little complicated. Expectations of the other person emerge.

And then I started thinking about why our relationship ended. It ended because I just didn’t have “more than friends” feelings for him anymore.

The Brother is PERFECT on paper. We have so much in common. Our daily habits are so similar. Our temperaments the same too. BUT BUT BUT, there’s just that little extra something that was always missing. It’s not something one can quite put her finger on… and we certainly try to… we certainly try to give it tangible reasons like, “oh it’s my defense mechanism,” “oh he talks on his cell phone too much,” “his feet are too flat” or this or that. Senseless.

But really, there’s something inside of us that’s saying (again, for no concrete reason) that this person just isn’t quite right.

And so, The Brother is a great companion, and we’ll continue to be friends… but yes, there is the prospect of hooking-up… but, I do not foresee it becoming more than that.

SHOUT OUT TO LTF FOR REMEMBERING MY BOYFRIEND TRENT REZNOR'S BIRTHDAY YESTERDAY!!! OH GOD I LOVE HIM!!! LTF - FYI - MY NINE INCH NAILS PLAYLIST ON iTUNES IS CALLED "I HEART TRENT REZNOR"... very appropriate considering your comment :)

The Brother

I just got a sandwich from The Brother's restaurant (newbies: he's my last boyfriend and we still hang out with on occasion)... he told me he just broke-up with his girlfriend (the one he never seemed to have strong feelings for during which he would always make subtle hints at still having feelings for me.)

This is where things get tricky. I totally dig him as a person, and I have absolutely NO STRENGTH when it comes to NOT hooking-up... so fuck... we're going to hang out within the next week or two, and when we do, I ask that all y'all send "don't hook-up Miss Curious" vibes.

PUSSY UPDATE:

Today, I finally decided to shoot over an email to my roommate (I wanted to talk to her last night, but she slept at her boyfriend's, as usual)... Just now, I received an email back from her... she was completely cool... she felt really badly... in 2 weeks, he gets his balls chopped off, and she's going to see if he chills out after that... if not, she's going to send him to friend of a friend's home.

It's definitely very nice of her to work with me here... but I worry that come a month from now, we're going to be having this same conversation.... because the crying may change, but her being home and paying any attention to him won't change. She's literally gone 4 days a week... although she doesn't mind not keeping el gato company, I feel so sorry for it... it is a sweetie, and all he wants is some attention, it's just become too much for me. Trust me. Waaaay too much.

Pussy Problems

(sorry to disappoint... this post is not about vaginas... not this time... this is a classic Miss Curious RANT!!!)

Before I moved in my roommate mentioned she might get a second cat. I didn’t think it’d be an issue because all the cats I’ve ever lived with have been so chill. No sweat, right? So, she does get the second cat. And he’s not so happy to have left her friend’s place in So Cal. He cries all night long. I just figured it was a matter of time before he got adjusted. No such luck.

Crying all night long was only the half of it. He’s like a little kid. At home all day long by himself, and as soon as I get home, he starts crying and is attached to my legs the rest of the day. I go to the bathroom, he jumps over my legs to get in there. Then it’s a battle to get him to leave the bathroom… this is every time. While I’m going to the bathroom, he cries and reaches his arms under the door. While in the shower – crying.

I can’t tie my shoes, I can’t leave my headphones out, I have to watch my plants and my trash… all because he’s right there biting and chewing and crying.

It’s constant. Then there’s her first cat, which is a rockstar… which is like all the other cats I’ve known. He’s totally mellow… just hangs out… jumps on my lap and naps with me. Never even heard her cry.

Here’s the thing, my roommate has a boyfriend who has 2 dogs, so he needs to be home for them, and she’s at his house ALL THE TIME. Which, under normal circumstances would be cool to have the place to myself, BUT she has a cat that needs TONS of affection. She LITERALLY (no hyperbole here, none!) comes in for 15 minutes to change and then leaves.

I just don’t understand why a person gets a new cat who needs so much attention, but pays it no attention. Two cats need more food. I feed them. Often. I don’t think she realizes exactly how often they have no food. Two cats piss and shit more. I’ve already cleaned the kitty litter a few times. People tell me just not to do that. But I have to. I care about them.

I don’t have cats or pets because I know that I can’t give them the attention they need at this point. So why do people have pets when they don’t take care of them?

I haven’t mentioned this in el Blog before, but it has been eating away at me. I kept thinking it’d get better, and it has… but not much. I ONCE AGAIN DREAD COMING HOME BECAUSE I KNOW THE SECOND I WALK THROUGH THE DOOR THE NEW CAT WILL BE ALL OVER ME. Don't get me wrong, my roommate has been so frickin' cool. She's super sweet and fun and I love the room and the area and the rent... but this is just one of those things that she doesn't necessarily notice.

A week and a half ago she told me her parents were going to come up and take him. They came up and visited, but last night they DID NOT TAKE THE CAT. She says she might keep it after all. But keep a cat that you’re never there to take care of??? I don’t understand… I don’t get it… I don’t want this cat… but I feel like it’s my cat.

I cannot tell you enough what torture this has been. And really, the other cat is a sweetheart… love her… want to keep her… but the new cat… oh no!

I’m thinking about emailing her today. I’ve voiced my concern to her last night, but I don’t think she quite understands.

SO HERE’S THE BOTTOM LINE: If she gets rid of the cat, which she doesn’t want to do, she’ll resent me. The cat is driving me insane. I’ve just hit that “wall”… you know, where you’ve just had it and reason and logic no longer apply?!?! And in my mind, I’m already thinking of moving… after just 2 and half,

I feel stuck. I feel like I don’t have a home I look forward to going to.

Last night, I balled my eyes out. I walked out of my apartment at 12:30 am. I called my sister and walked around the block 10 times. In the dark. I just want a HOME. I just want some place that feels like MY HOME. It seems like such a small thing. The cat thing. The home thing. But I really just want a home.

Homeless. Uprooted. It just hurts my heart. I hate feeling so displaced. And I’m so edgy about any new places now… I’ll go into anything new with a closed mind… I’ll go into it worried that it’ll catch fire or a roommate would turn psychotic or they’ll sell it or something new… and maybe I just need something to always complain about or worry about, but really and truly this pet is driving me insane. I don’t want my own pet for a reason. I know that they’re work. People so often get pets and completely neglect them. But then, is everything just me? Am I just being psychotic? I really don't think so. I can put up with A LOT. Trust me. But not this.

I just don’t know what to do. I just don’t know.

DRUNK BLOG'ING

So here I am 5:22 pm... tipsy. Already. Our deal closed. Lawsuits were threatened. Not against us. But against the people who fucked up. I'm conceited, yes. I didn't fuck up.

I am so satisfied though. It's funny... I don't care about the money. I care that person I represented got what they wanted. Got what they rightly deserved.

I've never had such a tough deal. I'm not going to go through the in's and out's, but I did my job. I did my job well. Very well. I made it happen.

And now, my boss thanked me by getting me tipsy. Maybe drunk.

Now I'm off to San Francisco's biker bar where just as much as you need your ID you need a tattoo... Zeitgeist... Zeitgeist - the BEST bloody mary's (and i'm not even a huge bloody mary fan) and BEST barbeque in town... now I'm really going to get drunk.

Why? I'm extreme. That's it. I get drunk. Not just tipsy.

This is my drunk speak. hahaha.


TOTALLY SEPARATE TOPIC:

Happy Mother's Day. You think your mom is awesome?!?!? My mom is fucking AWESOME. The reason for me to live is just so I can know her. She's an amazing beautiful woman, and I thank the universe for giving me, that which I had no choice NO CHOICE, my mother, ROSE.

Got Worked.

Oh my god, today has been an insane day at work. In my experience with the couple of agents with whom I've worked, a buyer has never not gotten her home. There have certainly been extension fees, but never the real prospect of them losing the home.

Today, I feel sick to my stomach. I have been working on one file today. My boss has been driving all over San Francisco and the East Bay trying to get last minute documents signed. There are so many people involved in buying and selling homes and countless papers.

Here we have these people who fall in love with a home and are so excited. And now, these people might not get it. I'd sooooooooo hate for that to happen. They are so wonderful and because of these small logistical errors - my bad to point fingers, but not my logistical errors, not mine at all - they may be devastated. All day I've been trying to clean up a mess made by others. It could be all for naught. It could all fall apart tomorrow morning.

I take this so seriously. I wish I could do everything myself. I wish I could see all the papers and check every last detail... all myself. I never knew I was such a control freak. Wow.

Yes, wow. I moved fucking mountains today and because of these logistical errors all my work could be for nothing. Eh. Ew. Fuck.

I know I won't sleep tonight.

Crumbled Goat Cheese?

How did that bag of chips end up in my refrigerator?

For Miss Curious, there’s no such thing as “in between.” Apparently there’s a great multitude of people that have the ability to stop drinking when they feel drunkenness swiftly approaching. I, however, was born with no such ability. In fact, I think god fucked up with me… instead, I increase the drinking when drunkenness is approaching.

Last night I found myself back at The Transfer. Before I knew it, I was looking in my wallet wondering what had happened to all my money. I clearly drank it all. Quickly.

I then went outside and smoked 2 cigarettes. OH MY GOD. It’s been 7 months. That was bad – bad – bad. But that’s it. This might happen from time to time, and I can’t freak out. I really want those time to times to be never though. That’s the goal. Smoking kills. But most importantly, it makes you smell really badly.

Anyway, I have enough sense to find my way to the bus stop. As I’m waiting on the curb, I see Safeway. Suddenly, grocery shopping at midnight seems like a really good idea.

So I grocery shop.

Then I drunk dial, Mr. Lost His Mind Christian. I pleaded for him to call me. I’m so torn on this. He told me the man’s the head of the household. I’m just not okay with that. And he’s getting married. I just NEVER saw this shit coming. In my drunken stupor I went on and on about how much I miss(ed) him. Today I realize that if I could have him back in my life, in my life in the sense that we can drink Corona’s on the beach and laugh at everyone around us, I’d never date another man. I feel sick now.

And so this morning, I open the fridge and there are all my groceries. Still in the Safeway bags. Chips, French bread, cheddar cheese, CRUMBLED goat cheese, diet coke. The standard fare.

PO - OR Judgment?

How is it that Miss Curious finds herself in some of the most peculiar situations?

Friday night, tired from a long week, I made my way to Red Hot Thighs’ house for a Cinco de Mayo party (fyi – RHT I’ve known for about 15 years, and she can attest to the fact that I’ve always been insane). Anyway, she’s yet another friend participating in the mass exodus to New York. Not only do we have a long history, but she is also one of my few or maybe just one of two single friends I have left in this fucking city.

(and any of you folk with boyfriends can’t say “I’m here – I’m here” because without a doubt it’s different – the calls are fewer – the hanging out even less – it’s just how it goes – and it’s never just hanging out with your friend anymore – it’s hanging out with her and her boyfriend… oops, sorry for the rant and rave – sometimes it’s just more noticeable than others – like with Midge leaving and now Red Hot Thighs leaving – and yes, it always seems like I’m complaining about something or other – and it’s true – I AM)

Anyway, back to the story. RHT had a margarita machine, and I took full advantage. But I was soon ready to go home and pass the fuck out. I hop in a cab with a very sweet 61 gray-haired chubby old man. We start chatting.

Miss Curious with the standard cab conversation:

“How long have a been driving a cab?”

Chubby-Cabby:

“A long time now. I own this cab.”

Cab drivers like to talk… he continues:

“I didn’t always drive a cab.” (you mean you didn’t start driving right out of the womb?) “I used to live in Hawaii. Those were the good old days. I sold enough weed, so I didn’t have to have a day job.”

Miss Curious:

“That’s cool. I haven’t smoked in a couple of weeks now.”

Chubby-Cabby:

“A couple of weeks?!? No way!!!” He replies with a shocked tone in his voice, and my eyes widen thinking, was that really a long time ago?

He pulls the care over on one of San Francisco’s busiest streets.

Chubby-Cabby:

“I’m stopping the meter. I’m going to pack you a bowl right now!”

Miss Curious:

“Okay.”

So we sat on the street, hazard lights flashing, and we passed the pipe back and forth.

Chubby-Cabby:

"In about an hour, you're gonna be hungrier than fuck."

He dropped me off at home. He was right, thank god for Chex Mix. And I went to bed smile on my face and crumbs in my bed. That was a first. Smoking with a cabby.

MUSIC NEWS:

Latest guilty pleasure, Gold Lion, The Yeah Yeah Yeahs

And since I’m a bitch, I’d like to mention that I was into the Yeah Yeah Yeahs over 3 years ago… and of course, now they’re like huge, so I have to say that… and that’s why it’s a guilty pleasure.

Some other folks on Miss Curious’ horizon, that are again, mainstream: Gnarles Barkley… cool, soulful, fun music… check out, Crazy, a very rad song. Goldfrapp, totally fun music to get ready to, but I just saw the movie, Hard Candy, which is totally disturbing, and they discussed Goldfrapp in it, and now I need a minute to get over it. hahaha.

Well, that’s that.

Out Of Your League

Dating in your league… not something I’m consciously aware of, but I automatically am attracted to more average funky looking men to match my own appearance. And I do know that on the street if I see an attractive male walking with a woman, I will always check her out… rather size her up… I’ll make that quick judgment of, “what a disgustingly cute couple,” or “oooh, maybe I’d have a chance with that guy if he’s attracted to her.” Wow. What a bitch am I?

But then, if I’m dating someone more attractive than me, I often wonder what others think while we’re walking on the street. But I get over that pretty quickly and ascribe it to the fact that I have fucking unequivocal wit and charm. But anyway, you have to have one or the other…. Good looks or a really good personality… if you have both, you’re pretty much at the top of the food chain.

But anyway, all this came about because a friend of mine made a comment about a guy she knows… “doesn’t he know to date in his own league!?!” My eyes widened, and I thought, “wow. That’s right. We all kind of automatically date in our leagues.” And that comment that men are always saying to each other, “Dude, she’s so out of your league.” This really is a funny concept. That we have leagues. That there are just some people we know we’ll never date because they are aesthetically so OUT of our leagues. Are the people we date reflections of who we think we are?


This is Naughty Nadia. (my older sister... she and I have always had different leagues)

This is Nadia's League.


This is ME.




This is My League. (I think)

PopPiss

CSI – do they have this show for like every fucking city in the United States??? I mean, when are they going to have CSI – Miss Curious’ farming town w/ people getting murder in the avocado groves and farm equipment “accidents”… that’d be good. I think I should write them.

AMERICAN IDOL – not so impressed w/ the idols this year. I do love me some Katharine McPhee though… BUT BUT BUT she’s almost too Kelly Clarkson. Ace – glad he’s gone… he’d be cute 10 years from now. Pickler – I’d like to say I’m above dumb blond… but her dumb blond really worked for me… won me over in fact… but she can’t sing (I’m the authority on this too). Everyone else, just not doin’ it for me.

COMMERCIALS – is it just me or are there a whole lotta’ commercials that have one person walking or driving down the street and people start following him or her until it’s this huge group… like some guy with pepsi and chick after chick start following him or a guy with burger king and all the guys following him… or that one with all the cars and trucks driving over buildings to get to whatever.

MySpace – So I totally requested Elefant, one of my favorite bands, to add me to their MySpace friends… for those of who aren’t savvy with MySpace, if you request a band, they always say Yes… they want the exposure to as many folks as they can… I have Nine Inch Nails, Tori Amos, and Jeff Buckley… who have all added me. But OH NO, Elefant is a “pending friend request” and has been for like 5 days, FUCK THAT! HAHAHA!… sure it’s not a big deal, but Miss Curious isn’t Miss Curious without getting all pissed about everything. So, I’m pissed. Fuck them. I’m not listening to them until they fucking add me. Or until I get over it because I find myself more pissed about something else and forget about the whole ordeal.

And oooh, for those of you interested in expanding your music knowledge, check out WOXY.COM and listen to their live stream... they also show who's playing, just be sure to refresh... you can do this in any state and/or country! It's like any radio station like some / hate some.

I'm Such a PUTZ

When the sun comes out, so do the men wearing tank tops emblazoned with, “Nice Papayas.”

So Wrong.

As for my weekend, let’s quote one of those deeply profound romantic comedies I love so much.

“Every woman has the exact love life she wants.” – Nick Mercer, The Wedding Date

Although my weekend consisted of NO LOVE, this quote is still very applicable. You see, I went into the weekend with a ‘funktified’ attitude. With much chagrin, the entire weekend continued in this vein. Basically, I had the exact weekend I wanted. (to those of you with love or searching for love, please think about that quote, thank you!)

One highlight, however, was dinner Friday evening. An old co-worker and I went to a soda-fountain for dinner. After glazing our throats with chocolate shakes, we decided to drive aimlessly through the streets of San Francisco. We hit up murals and then headed to Moraga and 16th Avenue to see an amazing staircase mosaic all the while blasting Tori Amos’ Choir Girl.

The sun is out again today. Shall we brace ourselves for an increase in the fetid stench of public transportation?

In celebration of Day II, San Francisco Sun, I'm wearing a skirt... hopefully, I'll be able to kick the black opaque tights soon enough.