2007

2007 Lips That Kissed Mine

1. iBartender

Met: at Small K’s birthday 2 years ago

Flirtation Began: February 2007 while frequenting his bar around the corner from Tall K’s house. We went every Monday night.

Derivation of Name: during our Monday game nights, he’d let me play my iPod on the bar speakers. We then discovered our similar tastes in music and got giddy as fuck when talking about it.

Turning-Point: I made him a CD. That night we kissed over the bar - 2 minutes later he said, “kiss me on the cheek.”I said, “no”“C’mon!”“No… okay fine, you have to bring your cheek to me.” I leaned in to kiss him, and this time he turned to kiss me on the lips. We both paused… he moved in closer… grabbed my bottom lip with his teeth and softly tugged… our lips met… our tongues met… and in a swift second it was over.

A week or two later he declared the night “Whatever You Want Night”. He followed me to the DJ booth while I was changing songs. He wrapped his arms around me, “Why aren’t you kissing me?” I asked.“You just have to tell me that’s what you want.” “I want you to kiss me.” He smiled and turned his hat backwards. He held my face with one hand, pulled me toward him, and our lips met. His soft, soft lips… his sweet, sweet tongue… mingled with mine. I’m smiling now as I think about it.

End: I was gone for a couple of weeks after the kiss… he found someone new. Whatever. A fleeting DJ Booth romance. I still see him and now know understand his little flirtatious games he plays. I always liked the idea of him, but really, he’s younger, and it shows.

2. Obsession

Met: At Cheers 4 years ago.

Flirtation Began: 4 years ago. He introduced himself and started giving me free drinks. We hooked up once and nothing happened after that. We’ve flirted over the years.

Turning Point in 2007: I was helping him write a business letter. (from old post) -
I sat at the edge of the bed to see if he'd start moving toward me. He did. He'd rest his hand on my leg. I'd pretend not to notice. I got up to do something, and when I came back his arm was around my spot on the bed. I picked it up and moved it. He smirked.

After a few more glasses of wine, he said he should get going. I reached over him to put my glass on the table to walk him out. He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me onto him... and then smothered my lips with his. We made out like teenagers... a lot of groping, expert bra unfastening...

Once he went to remove an article of my clothing, I said, "okay, I have to ask... are you still with your girlfriend?" He cringed, "yes." Fuck. "Well, I can't do this then. Sorry."

End: he left trying to explain himself. I emailed him the definition of Integrity. We’re still bar-friends. I’ll always have a “thing” for him, but I’ll never want to be with him.

3. Flava Flav

Met: MySpace. He emailed me. I emailed him back 3 months later when I was bored.

Flirtation: Good for one thing. Very good for that one thing.

Derivation of Name: In reality tv dating shows, there's always one or two or three chicks that use the line, "I'm not here to make friends. I'm here for Flava Flav." He seemed like he'd be that girl, a bitch.

End: Cheating’s my “thing”. Some people get jealous or this or that. If I know someone has a history of cheating, I know that I can’t get close to him or her. He couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t stand a lot. Couldn’t stand if I talked about other guys. Couldn’t stand that I wouldn’t give him a real try. But then, I was unavailable for hooking up at 11 pm one night. He called another chick after me. I thought it was fucked up and told him to fuck-off.

4. BAM

Met: through Mutual Friend. Mutual Friend’s band was playing. We both knew the other was going to be there.

Derivation of Name: I liked him the moment he introduced himself. We hung out all day (it was a daytime show) as thought we’d known each other forever. He drove me home and in his car as we were kissing I thought, “I can’t wait until this kissing really means something.” That thought was swiftly followed by, “but it already feels like it means something.”
BAM, I felt so close to him so quickly.

Highlights: He said, “you have my heart, a dear hold on it.” amongst some of the most romantic words anyone has ever told me.

End: It just did.

5. Antonio

Met: He works nearby. We'd flirted there before, and then I bumped into him at a bar.

Derivation of Name: He has one of those names that screams "fling" like some latin lover Antonio...

Flirtation: he sat on my chair and divulged his deepest and frickin' darkest secrets. He's a disaster.

End: We saw each other and flirted at his place of business, but neither of us made an effort to hang out again. He moved out of state in November.


2007 Boy Wrap-Up:

Same shit, different year. Where's "the one" already? Haha! 2008's my year!


2007 Best Live Shows:

1. Muse – Bill Graham
2. Tori Amos – The Paramount (2nd night)
3. The Cure – Shoreline
4. Smashing Pumpkins – The Fillmore (1st night)
5. Okkervil River – The Independent
6. The Arcade Fire – Greek Theater, Berkeley
7. Wolf Parade – Great American Music Hall
8. Tool – Bill Graham
9. Medeski, Martin, Scofield, and Wood – The Fillmore
10. Tapes N’ Tapes – Mezzanine


2007 Best Movies:

I didn’t make it out to the movies much this year, and what I did see was, um, okay. Here are some highlights:

1. Superbad
2. Hairspray
3. uno
4. Waitress
5. 30 Days and 30 Nights
6. Jane Austen Book Club
7. Transformers

Biggest Upset:

Atonement started out as with a huge bang, but sadly FiZ-Zled. During the first half, this film was a huge holy-shit this is amazing. I should have gone home mid-way through.


2008 New Year's Resolution

To be a nicer person

Remember how I said I'd post today? Well, I was kidding. I don't have time. I'm posting my 2007 Best of's and Highlights.... Monday... I promise!

Been outta' town... will post tomorrow!

Happy Holidays... guess that's what everyone says these days.

It's Okay To Look

Since I had a new picture comment, I logged onto MySpace this morning. As I was signing off, I whispered to myself, "don't look, don't look." (at BAM's profile, that is). But then, the log-out page said, "it's okay to look." Right there in BIG letters IT'S OKAY TO LOOK (a match.com advertisement).

Eyebrows up.

"What the hell... god saying 'HA!' to me?"

So I logged back on. And looked.

Nothing new for me to obsess about... so there I was, in my little cubicle with my lava-lamp still warming up, only left with the realization of how weak I truly am. Oh so fucking sad. I logged out for godsake. I made it all the way out of MySpace without viewing his profile to see if STUPID-NEW-BLOND-CHICK had commented or he had commented on hers. And then, as though god itself had been speaking to me... "look - look - it's okay to look." Jesus Christ.

Oh well. I did it. I'm weak. Big fucking surprise. Big fucking deal.

I'll get over it.

We all get over it sooner or later and wonder what the fuck we were thinking.

All those pathetic moments of heartbreak and sorrow over this or that... I always get over it. In time, I will look back on this and laugh. The feelings will all be gone. They always go away.

I have no unrequited love out there. I have no regrets in my world of romance... no one I wish I'd still be with to this day. No one "man that got away." Not one. I haven't found him yet.

Sure, I might suddenly think that BAM's the one for me now that he's (most likely) with someone else. A couple months from now I'll be able to tell if it's him I miss or the idea of him or just that I'm jealous that he found someone first.

Whatever it is... it'll be forgotten.


Let's move on to something else I can obsess about. Hmmmmm.

OUT of the Running -

Work: I now have job security because the owner of the company and his partner just asked me to support them too... everyone says their impossible, but I like the challenge. I'll tame the beasts. It's said that if anyone can, I can! Haha!

Romance: cyber-stalking is already getting boring... after a week of it.

Friendships: those are always messy, but I let them affect me less and less.

Housing: ran into a bump last night, but my roommate's so communicative that we squashed it this morning.

Well, can't think of anything to throw myself into at the moment, so I'll get back to work on memorizing the presidents. I have until Friday.

iTunes, Heavy Rotation:

Wasted Time, MeShell Ndegeocello
Bliss, Tori Amos
Sugar, Tori Amos
Sudden Rush, Erlend Oye
Insistor, Tapes N' Tapes
Night On Red River, Rykarda Parasol

My Worst Nightmare

Speaking of all that Cyberstalking below, what if BAM or any others we may stalk can actually see how many times we've viewed their profiles?! Or what if the chicks we link to from them can see us checking their profiles out and put two and two together? And worse, then tell the dude that we've been checking out both of their profiles!!!

I'd pretty much want to die.

Does anyone know if this is possible?


Although I deleted BAM from my friends on MySpace, I'm still going to look for him from time to time. Ridiculous, yes.

How about I email him this:

Dear BAM,

Because I'm a psycho-cyberstalker, can you please change the status of your MySpace page to the Privacy Setting. My blog alias is "MiSS CuriouS" meaning that I'm ruled by my curiousity, and if information on your relationship status is available to me, I simply canNOT NOT look. Weak of me? Most definitely.

Ta-Ta,

MiSS CuriouS


That'd go over, right?

Again, I ask... why do I care? A week ago I was falling asleep to thoughts of my dreamed-up-dream-man... thoughts of BAM were weakening memories. And suddenly, he's at the forefront of my mind making me pout... that he's found someone first.

I'm such an asshole!!!

The Cyber-Stalk

Can I possibly be this pathetic? I say this again and again - sometimes I simply can’t stand myself. Sometimes I genuinely pull a Mcauley Culkin in Home Alone when he slaps both hands on his cheeks, and his eyes immediately widen, and a loud shriek escapes from his lips. Unfortunately, my reasons aren’t because I’ve just shaved and am putting cologne on for the first time.

My reasons are far, far worse than a sudden sting.

I know I shouldn’t be professing the happenings in the deep dark corners of MiSS CuriouS’s mind, but this is my release. This is me proclaiming my most ridiculous moments… saying yes, yes this is who I am. I’m admitting these things to myself.

I’m doing the best I can to be relatively normal.

Anyway, on with it. With the explosion of cyberspace, we all invariably lurk into the lives of others. When we’re dating someone a Google, MySpace, and Facebook search seems to be pretty common, no? Well, on occasion, I’ve checked out Bam’s MySpace page just to see what he’s up to. To see whether or not his status has suddenly changed to “In A Relationship”.

I recently checked only to find that I had been removed from his first page, top 12 or however many. This is of course understandable. We did break-up ages ago, and I did very immaturely end our friendship. And oh, sometimes when I find myself taking that little peak at his page, my eyes go a’ gander down to the comments section.

I looked today and saw that some stupid blond chick (no offense against blonds, a remark only fueled by unwarranted jealousy), who’s all into photography and seems to have done all these great fucking things is now “New” and is commenting on his page. If you didn’t catch it, I clearly looked at her page too = MORE PSYCHO OF ME. He commented on hers too. It’s all this flirty fucking banter, and I for whatever reason can’t stand it.

Shriek.

I mean, geez, we ended things ages ago. We ended things twice as long ago as our relationship even lasted. We ended our friendship 1 month ago. Why do I even fucking care? I didn’t think I cared, but I reacted unbelievably strong. I surprised my own-damn-self.

Of course I’m now thinking (well, maybe not ‘of course’ to others), when we first started hanging out, it was me that he MySpaced right away. It was me that he requested as a friend right away. And now, there, in front of my own presumption eyes, I developed their entire relationship. I can’t stand that she’s now getting all the happy moments that I once got.

But really, why do I care?

THREE POSSIBLE REASONS:

1. He’s the last person I was with, and with no one else to take my mind off things, I still wonder about him… but not because I really want him?

2. I’m pissed because he found someone before I did, and he was the one that fucked me over even though I “officially” broke up with him the second time. Why is he all rewarded with the cloud 9 that comes with the onset of courtship?

3. This 3rd one I just can’t figure out – is it because I still really do like him? Do I still think that he has the most qualities I’ve ever wanted in a man and think that I’ll never find someone as close as he is to my ideal?

So why? Why am I writhing? Why did I just put my hands back on both cheeks, rest my elbows on my desktop, and stare down at the cheap-ass-fake-brown called my desk?

Why do I care!??!?!?! Why? Why? Why? It’s ridiculous!!! I couldn’t be more stunned at my reaction…. Okay, well, that’s kind of lie… kinda’ not.

What’s the natural way of handling this if you’re PSYCHOTIC?

Answer:

Delete him as a friend on MySpace. (like he’ll ever notice, but a Digital Delete is cathartic)

MiSS PSycho CurioS

I have reached a new level of psycho. I'll write about this later today. Let's just say, it has something to do with cyber-stalking.

Possible to Get Back Into Christmas?

When did Christmas become something we had to get through?

I remember anxiously awaiting the holiday season. The decorating of the Christmas tree accompanied by classic xmas tunes and the necessity of hanging particular ornaments. The overly satiating of my Santa belly with my mom's peppermint cookies and tamales. The purchasing of holiday pajamas. The succumbing to horrid holiday photos that people our family hasn't seen for years will be getting in the mail with some "Season Greetings" note from the CuriouS family. Sometimes all of our names would be written. The bricks in over-sized boxes my parents used to delude MiSS CuriouS from incessantly guessing her gifts wrapped in some cheesey snowman paper with ribbons that were meticulously curled by my dad.

This year I've been trying to reclaim that old Christmas spirit. I bought this:

http://www.bestvideo.com/ProductDetails.asp?ProductCode=796019803151&click=2

Anyone remember these? I remember never missing them. At the store, the cashier went on about her memories of these TV movies. It sparked something in her, and I was happy to see it.

I bought a poinsettia. I put up white Christmas lights. I bought an apple cider smelling candle. I'm trying.

Anyway.

Moving on.

I listen to my iPod wherever I go. I'm lost without it. I have the appearance of some rotten kid. I think people would be surprised as to what it is I'm listening.

These are my songs as of late:

Singing in the Rain, Gene Kelly (quick note: it's impossible to listen to this and not be happy. Try it)
They Can't Take That Away From Me, Fred Astaire
On Broadway, George Benson

And on that same playlist with Fred Astaire...

The Knowledge, Janet Jackson
I Can't Make You Love Me, Bonnie Raitt
Nothing Fails, Madonna
Candidate, David Bowie
Then a gazillion Tori Amos songs
Hold Me Now, The Thompson Twins
Lovestain, Jose Gonzalez

Guess I like random shit.

MiSS CrazY

THOUGHTS ON SEX:

Sometimes I think my libido's abnormal for a chick. I find that I think about sex with great frequence. Perhaps it's just because I'm not having it. I wonder how often dudes think about it. If it's more than me, than poor-poor boys. They must all be suffering.

And well, I do um, "take care o' my shit" relatively often. By often, I mean several times a week. Okay, like 5 times a week. However, when I'm in a relationship, I think about sex less often and rarely "take care o' my shit"... like almost never.

Based on conversations with my friends, I seem to be an oddity in the female world.

THOUGHTS ON MEN:

Yesterday my co-workers and I somehow found ourselves discussing our elaborate fantasies. One male was present, and let's just say his eyes very well could have popped out of his head. Since I have no men to think about, my fantasies of a man have become rather involved.

In fact, I put myself to sleep with thoughts of him. He has a face. A face that I made up.

He has a face, a body, a style, a job, friends... all detailed in my fantasy of him. I've imagined our meeting. I imagined the number of dates it would take for us to kiss, 3. The number of dates it would take for us to bang, 5. He's a pleaser in el sack. I've imagined us at game night with Tall K and Little K. I've imagined him touching my knee under the table. I put my hand over his. We don't look at each other. We merely feel the other. I imagine how it would feel. I see myself holding my eyes closed for two seconds longer than a blink.

I've envisioned dates he'd take me on and things he'd say to me. About me being like no other girl he's ever met. All the standard romance cliches are present in my fantasy.

He doesn't have a name. He hasn't met my parents. We haven't passed the 5th date mark.

But he's here. Here in my head.

Yes, crazy.

But then, my co-workers began sharing their fantasies. The number of dates they'd been on with their imaginary man. One girl had a face to hers. A man she's only just seen. She's dreamt him up though. His history, how they'd finally speak. Where they'd kiss.

One girl even chimed in that she went straight to the altar with her imaginary man. Wow.

And so tonight before I fall asleep, I'll think of him.

MC Does Depressing, Again... Haha!

I finally started reading Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. In the first chapter she professes her pain of the many nights spent on the cold tiled floor of her bathroom as tears poured from her eyes. She reached a point in her life where she almost had to start over. She reached a point where everything she thought was important and the life she built was no longer what she wanted.

Then I started thinking about crying into pillows or in showers. I started thinking about nights like hers where I’d ask someone, something out there what to do, where I’d ask someone, something out there to help me.

When a book that’s a best seller delves into these depths, I realize that I’m not alone. It’s strange to think of my friends or my sisters or my brothers or my mom or my grandma of having those nights where their body shook from sadness, and sounds barely escaped from their mouth.

As always, I’m obsessed with the meaning of life or the lack thereof, and most of my crying births from life merely being survival. Life’s meaning = to survive? Humankind simply here to survive?

It’s difficult to think I’m just surviving. It’s difficult to string together all the good moments in life. It’s difficult to appreciate all that I have in this very moment. And so, I have a good moment here and the next moment I’m thinking about why the hell do I “maybe” have a cyst in my ovary? Or why aren’t I attractive enough? Or make more money? Or why can’t I seem to ever untangle my headphones?

Guess I’m being kinda’ depressing, haha. Laugh at me. I will.

JOB:

As I’ve mentioned, I’m putting the feelers out for a new job. Last night I had to take some silly aptitude test for one company. Of course the writing sample had to be about a character named Bam, and I then wondered where he was and what he was doing right then... BUT, That’s beside the point, and the thought swiftly disappeared. Back to the job, I hate this in between stage. I know I need to move on from my current job, but I can’t imagine leaving… and I can’t imagine staying. It’s an asking the someone, something out there to “help me” to tell me “what to do.”

On my way to an interview one morning, I thought about all the people on that bus who at one point also had to go on an interview. Those employed, all had to go apply for the job and hope to hear back and hope to do well in an interview and hope to get the job. And then, there they are now, waking up much earlier than they’d like… already looking forward to the end of the day… already looking forward to the end of the week.

And when they go home, they don’t do all the pleasurable activities they’d like to do. What do they do? They unwind. Unwind from a job they wish they weren't obligated to go to. Unwind and then start the whole thing all over again the next day. The next week. How bleak. Haha. Oye!

BOYS:

Wouldn’t mind having one. Know anyone?

LOOKING FORWARD TO IN DECEMBER:

2 Tori Amos shows
1 Tool show
3 Holiday parties
1 Christmas
2 Cousins ages 2 and 6
1 Family gathering from 1 side of the family with a 2 shots of tequila tradition
1 Family gathering from the other side of the family

RANDOM THOUGHT:

I was thinking the other evening about the time I lived with a boyfriend, Bad Break-Up. During that time, I, on a couple of occasions, thought how lovely it was to be able to go home and have sex if I wanted it that night. I could have sex whenever I wanted. Wow. I could go home and feel his flesh against mine... he was always ready and willing. Hmm.

Now, that's a distant memory.

:-)

I'll post tomorrow!