The Melancholy Week

Work has been weird. The Chilltown workshop is closed, so I’ve been stuck at the NYC office, a very depressing and soul-sucking environment. Bossman is there every day (which is probably why he is a depressing and soul sucking individual) and I either have little to do or Bossman needs me to do something right away. He is one of those people with two levels of priority: not worth doing or super fucking urgent. Thank the gods for this little vacation I’m taking this weekend (as in, tomorrow and Friday) or I might want to ride up to the top floor of our building and jump out of it.

That place just makes me incredibly miserable. Normally I’m only there once a week. I’ll be spending next week M-W there as well, and I’m planning on surviving it by working on other, career building activities. I finished doing a bunch of work for a professional certificate and so I’ll probably be spending that time developing my programming skills. At least when there isn’t “super fucking urgent” work to be done.

Pike’s gone so I’m having to do some of his work, and mostly I have no clue what I’m doing, so that’s been fun. He’s also unreachable most of the time.

Yesterday I visited Shorty’s apartment in Brooklyn to decide if I want to live there. I don’t. I think Shorty would be a great person to live with, but the place is too small, too far from Chilltown, and in a sketchy neighborhood in which my mother would worry about me too much.

The Kid’s been working from the NYC office, too, which has made things slightly more entertaining. Mainly because I can IM him and ask him to remind me who the hell someone is or for him to translate what Bossman is saying. I told him about my visit to Shorty’s and he told me a friend of his is looking for a place to live in Manhattan and might want a roommate, so I sent him an email listing my requirements. The Kid says this friend is the cleanest and most organized person he knows, so I think it might be a good roommate match. Otherwise I’m going to go back to looking for a place for myself.

I feel bad about having to tell Shorty since she’ll now have to look for a roommate and I would’ve been the ideal one, since I wouldn’t have been there very often. Also we drank two bottles of wine while I was there.

Lippy’s been weird and tired and kind of depressed. His interest in me seemed to be waning until today, but I know I can’t deal with someone who has bipolar affections. I also can’t be with someone who has negative moods for too long of periods of time, because then I will feel like it’s my responsibility to cheer them up, and if I can’t do that then I get depressed, too. I’m very empathic; I can’t help but feel what other people are feeling. He told me he has a job interview in a couple weeks, but he didn’t say if it was for something here or in his hometown. He doesn’t seem to like his current job and he seems homesick.

In summary, this week has been full of  melancholy. But when I’m downtown and I stare up at those incredibly tall buildings, I feel like I’ve been lifted up again.

 

The Requirements

A couple years ago after I stopped dating someone for no real reasons I read this self-help book for women with commitment issues. After, I dated someone where there were a whole bunch of reasons to end things, and he ended up doing it and I got all upset, so I’m not sure if the book really worked the way it was supposed to–I just kind of ran in the opposite direction and that didn’t work, either.

But something good came from it. I made these three lists of qualities in a partner: requirements, preferences, and extras. They’re in three tiers of importance. Kzinti reminded me of them on twitter, which was great because most of the time I forget all about them when I’m actually dating someone.

Requirements
1. Is accepting of others, even those who are different.
2. Respects me, my family, and my friends.
3. Doesn’t take anything too seriously.
4. Is intelligent.
5. Wants a family.

Preferences
6. Has confidence.
7. Turns me on.
8. Has some similar interests.
9. Is motivated to succeed.
10. Enjoys cuddling.

Extras
11. Is silly.
12. Is kind.
13. Gives me space.
14. Never uses chatspeak (except ironically).
15. Has a pleasant speaking voice.

That’s it. Maybe now that I’ve re-written it, I can remember?

The Arguments I Have with Myself

I think I really need a therapist, but this has always been my own version of free therapy. I have problems with relationships. There are these three battling forces in my head:

The first one doesn’t want me to be alone. This is the force that convinces me I should sign up for online dating sites. This side tells me to “give him a chance” for just about everyone. This is the force that made me continue to get back together with this friend of mine I was dating over a year ago, even though I was breaking up with him for really good reasons, simply because, as this side argued, he wouldn’t hurt me. This force ignores warning signs by yelling, “Don’t you want to not be single anymore?” This side thinks being with anyone is better than being alone, and has even gone as far as to subtly hint about getting back together with exes. This force wants the dream, the husband, the two children and a dog and a house with a white picket fence. (That is, if you trade the dog for a cat and the house with a white picket fence for an apartment on Central Park.) And if the husband is fat and boring, that’s a small price to pay, this force says.

The second one doesn’t want me to be stuck with someone. The biggest argument this force has is, “Four years. You wasted four years on Pike and now you’re almost thirty and the last thing you want to do is waste four more years on someone equally miserable, so be fussy, be fussy, girl.” This is the force that made me keep breaking up with that friend. This force kept me from putting a label on someone I was with for a whole year. This force made me bail on a date with someone after I found out he didn’t want children, because, as it argues, why bother?
The second force also tries to keep me from getting hurt. This force puts up walls and barriers. It’s the side that thinks that dumping someone you think is going to dump you to avoid getting dumped is a good idea. It looks for warning signs: both potential relationship problems and signs that the other person’s interest is waning, and then pushes for an escape.

One thing the forces agree on? Dating multiple people at a time. The first force thinks it’s a great idea, because then I’m more likely to meet “the One” and reach that “Happy Ending.” The second force thinks it will allow me to keep my options open, not settle down with the wrong person, and having multiple logs in the fire, it says, will keep me from getting hurt.

Both sides reared their heads after a rather lackluster date with Lippy yesterday. The date was lackluster, I believe, partly because we were both really tired. My two sides had a fight, which I tried to mediate, and it went something like this:

Two: Warning! Warning! Interest is waning! Bail out now! Bail now!
Cloudy: Gods, what now?
One: Why do you even say that? We were both really tired! And he was being very touchy-feely–
Two: –not as touchy-feely as usual.
One: Well, we were out in public.
Two: Right, why didn’t we go someplace not public? That right there is a warning sign.
One: It was a day date! We just need to go dancing again, or get a bit tipsy again, and then the makeouts will continue.
Two: [Sarcastically.] Right, right, because relationships based on alcohol are totally the best idea! Remember the last time you couldn’t have fun with a guy unless drinking was involved? We got SO HURT, remember?
One: We had fun! And it’s so inconvenient right now.
Two: This is why we wanted to wait to date until we had an apartment in the actual city.
One: This happened unexpectedly. When Lippy gets one, or if I move in with Shorty in October, it will be easier.
Two: IF we and Lippy are still a thing by OCTOBER. Which is doubtful. We should really end things by then, anyway. Like, right away. Like, now.
Cloudy: Um, we can’t just end things. His feelings are uncertain, so if he is super into me and then abruptly we end it, he will be crushed and remember he’s friends with my boss. If we break his heart, Bossman will be pissed.
Two: Which is WHY I wanted to avoid starting this whole thing in the first place! I allowed it to happen only because he’s not planning on staying here permanently, so that if he did get relationshippy, we could say, “I don’t think we should make this a serious thing since you’re not planning on staying here and I am.” It was perfect. And then ONE started getting a crush!
One: Because last week Tuesday was awesome, and Two knows it. Two just won’t admit it.
Two: Sorry, I’m too busy thinking about that sandwich Lippy was eating on Saturday. So gross.
One: If we break up with everyone whose sandwich preferences we don’t like we will be FOREVER ALONE!
Two: And what exactly is so bad about that?
Cloudy: That’s enough!

See? They’re insufferable!

Since I was a kid, I’ve been having dreams about being abandoned. When I was a kid the dreams were more about making friends who would disappear and then I’d spend the rest of the dream looking for them, but as I grew older they became about romantic relationships. Always different people, but the same plot: I’ll meet the perfect person. It will be magical and perfect and sexy and then they’ll disappear. I’ll assume something horrible happened to them, and that I need to find them, so I’ll spend the rest of the dream searching. As the dream continues I’ll develop this nagging doubt that nothing happened, really, and they just didn’t want to be with me so badly they left without a trace. I always wake up before finding them.

I don’t know why I have these dreams or why I have such a fear of abandonment. I was never abandoned as a child. I don’t have daddy issues–my dad is still married to my mom and about as perfect as a dad can get. (I actually believe that the fact that I’ll never find anyone as good as my dad is another reason for my relationship issues.) The dreams stopped for a while when I was with Pike, but then came back a while after our breakup. It’s like my subconscious can’t dream up romance with a happy ending and I have no idea why.

If the dreams were a newer phenomenon, it would make more sense. The last two (or three, really) times I tried to open myself up to someone, I got hurt. Really hurt. It’s like my biggest fear actually came true. Again. And again. No wonder I’m now so messed up. Or as Weezer says:

“WHY BOTHER? IT’S GONNA HURT ME. IT’S GONNA KILL WHEN YOU DESERT ME. THIS HAPPENED TO ME TWICE BEFORE! IT WON’T HAPPEN TO ME ANYMORE!”

The Cocktail Place

Pike convinced Lippy to shave.

Basically he told him I don’t like facial hair. It was kind of funny, but it worked. Lippy actually went somewhere to get himself shaved. He also got his hair cut, which was disappointing. I found out later, to my chagrin, that he used to have longish hair. Longish. Dark. Wavy. Hair. Now he has this thin layer of fuzz on his head.

Lippy went to look at some apartments during work so he can move out of Bossman’s apartment. He came back complaining that they were so expensive. So expensive being $4k a month. He said he can afford it and might get one anyway.
“Do they do short term?” I said.
“No, I’d have to sign a lease.”
I was a bit disappointed by this since his inevitable moving is what’s really making me okay with the fact that he obviously likes me.

Then I found out that while all my employees are getting the next week and a half or so off, I have to work. In the NYC office where it’s super depressing and Bossman is there. I’m still taking my vacation next weekend and a couple days off next week, but aside from that I’ll be in the office with Lippy every day which will probably make me super sick of him.

After work Lippy took me to a cocktail place that reminded me of this cocktail place this lawyer I was dating briefly in Cap City took me to for our first date, in that the cocktails were full of alcohols I’ve never heard of and expensive. Lippy also ordered a cheese plate and caviar. The last time I’d had caviar was at Pike’s parents’ country club. It’s pretty good.

I realize he has some money, and I feel like mentioning that when I first met him I thought he was one of Bossman’s admins (and I don’t think they make much) and I was interested right away. I have to admit, though, that it is nice to drink expensive cocktails and it will be great if he gets an apartment near the NYC office (I told him he should find one before next week).

I guess I just don’t want him to think I’m a gold digger. He already knows I like shopping.

The neighborhood we were in is what is generally known as the hipster capitol of the world. I hear that many of the hipsters are moving into the neighborhood where Shorty’s apartment happens to be. (Shorty is quite hipster-ish.) As a former hipster, I didn’t think my former hipster friends would’ve liked the hipster capitol much. It was too expensive and not quite gritty enough. But I wondered if I could live where the hipsters are and not a) turn back into one of them, or b) want to punch them all in the face for being annoying.

Then I left my jacket on the subway on the way home.

Note: I need to stop letting Lippy sleep in my bed in Chilltown because it’s just too small.

The Party Weekend

This weekend. Holy crap.

On Friday I went to a party hosted by Pike’s ex, Laura. They’re still friends. Pike, despite having a new girlfriend, is still a bit in love with her, I think. She also has a new boyfriend and they were very touchy-feely throughout the entire party, which was kind of weird. Imagine watching your ex’s most recent ex being all up in the PDA with someone new.

Earlier on Friday I made a plan for my living situation: I’m keeping my room in the free house in Chilltown, since I have to work here, but renting a room in Shorty’s apartment. That apartment will be for weekends, weekdays I’m out in the city, and when I can’t stand the people here. I can also put all my stuff there. Not having access to all my stuff is bugging me. It’s pretty cheap and all I really need to do yet is see it and make sure I actually want it. It’s going to be weird having two places to live, but kind of cool I think, too. I’ll just need two wardrobes! That part will be fun!

Back to Laura’s party. I really enjoyed meeting Laura’s friends and I was invited to another party one of them were hosting on Saturday. Pike was also invited to this party.  It was a theme party and I didn’t have appropriate attire so I went shopping. I overdid it a little since I’d just decided not to spend a ridiculously large amount of money on rent, but two for one skinny jeans! Sparkly shoes! I couldn’t resist. I also spent way too much time on my shopping extravaganza. I ended up being two hours late for the party, which sucked because I was supposed to stay for a bit and then go meet Lippy for another party.

Pike ended up being ready to go to the party at about the same time so we went there together. On the way, I mentioned how obnoxious Laura and her new boyfriend were. This turned out to be a mistake, because Pike said, “She was never that way in public with me!” about 50 times.

The party was quite fun and I was a bit regretful to not stay long, but eventually I left to meet up with Lippy. The club we met at was popular; there was a line outside. I had to wait for them for a bit, and the first person I saw was actually Bo. Lippy had warned me that Bo was with them, but apparently he hadn’t told Bo I was coming because he asked me what I was doing there. I acted awkward.

When Lippy appeared, he tried to kiss me in front of Bo wearing black lipstick.* On his giant lips. I moved away and said, “No, you’re going to get it on me!” So now Bo knows. That makes pretty much everyone. If there’s a group of people and half of them know something, that really means they all know by that point.

Inside the bar (since we were invited to the goth party, we did not have to wait in line) Lippy removed the lipstick. Everyone was all, “Aww, why did you take it off!” and he said it was because I wouldn’t let him kiss me. That bugged me. Although, I wonder if that would work to get him to shave, since his scruff is getting way too close to beard territory.

I met a lot of interesting people including a strange but awesome guy in suspenders (he was not wearing party themed appropriate attire) and a girl I hit it off with who insisted we take a picture with this guy who had fangs and was wearing full body latex. I need that picture because he’s got his latex covered arm around my neck.

We went back to my place where I told Lippy I was too tired to do dirty things to him and we shared my tiny bed again. That needs to stop. I let him use my toothbrush even though I didn’t like the idea. “You used my toothbrush,” he said.
“That was different!” I said.
Then I said, “I don’t want to step on my floor and get dirt in my sheets.”
He said, “Do you, by any chance, have OCD?”
I laughed because lately I’ve been thinking about how I should perhaps see a therapist about how grossed out I get by everything lately. I feel like all my roommates here are content living in a sty. Even Pike, and when we were together I used to get in arguments with him and call him an anal-retentive neat freak. Now when I do my laundry in his room (where the laundry is) I don’t want to let it touch the floor after it’s clean and get all dirty again. I’m telling you though, his floor is not clean.

During breakfast I thought about how Lippy needs to shave. He’s not super attractive, but he’s incredibly funny and smart and has a lot of cool friends and isn’t ugly so I can deal with that. But I don’t think I actually want a serious relationship. Hopefully he’ll be okay with that, because otherwise this will be messy. (Hopefully the fact that he’s not planning on staying here and I am will help.)

One thing we talked about though was how funny it is that we both just moved here and are already constantly going out and going to various parties. It took me three years in Cap City to get where I am now socially here after one month. I love this place.

*It was a goth themed party.

The Contractor in Pajamas

This was going to be a longer post but now it’s going to be short because of what just happened with this contractor, Dino. I come downstairs to grab a drink of water before I go to bed, and Dino is sitting on a couch in his pajamas because he’s going to sleep there (he doesn’t normally) and he’s chatting with Rusta and I say hi and Rusta wants to know where Shorty and Lippy slept last night, since they were here in the house along with a couple friends of The Kid’s, who ware in town for the night and went drinking with us.

I didn’t want to tell him what really happened, which was that Shorty slept in The Kid’s bed and Lippy slept in my bed. I said “I don’t know” and then I made up something about the air mattress I have here. So of course Rusta wanted to know where the air mattress was. I said, “I don’t know, maybe The Kid’s room?”

Of course tomorrow Rusta will ask The Kid about it and The Kid will probably just tell the truth.

The day before Lippy and I had gone out to dinner and a party and then he took me back to the place where he’s staying and we made out* and fell asleep. Lippy is looking to find a temporary apartment which is impossible; he’s only staying in town for a few months. This should allow me to end my dry spell without triggering my fear of commitment.

He’s staying at Bossman’s. Bossman wasn’t there, thankfully.

I’m going to flesh out this story more when it’s not 1am and I’m not exhausted.

Anyway, after my lie about the sleeping situation, Dino decided midnight would be a good time for us to discuss a project he’s working on. This lead to a general rant about Bossman and how he runs things. This rant lasted 45 minutes, I mentioned twice how tired I was, and finally I had to excuse myself.

All this said, I’ve come to the conclusion I’m going to keep living at the group house for a while because it’s free and things at this company are kind of up in the air right now. I don’t think I’m going to lose my job, but it’s not as certain as I’d like it to be.

Another reason: Even if I have contractors complaining to me in their pajamas after midnight, at least it makes for good blog material.

*Because of his lippiness, I expected him to be a bad kisser. He’s not.

The Average Cloudy Day

Morning

I wake up. Press snooze a few times. Shower, then dry my hair, but not too long or I’ll blow a fuse and won’t be able to reset it because the box is in Pike’s basement room and he’s still traveling.

Walk to the workshop. It’s hot, so I try to stay on the shadier side of the street.

The door’s unlocked which means Bo is up. Sure enough he’s at his desk. Which is conveniently located by my desk. I look at him and say hi. He asks me about my trip. I think about my dream and think, no, still not going to happen. I ask him what happened while I was gone. He says, “Not much.” Nothing about Pants’s layoff.

I fiddle with the project software and try to determine what, if anything, was accomplished while I was gone.

Eventually others show up, but Rusta isn’t here, and no one knows why. Pants is doing some emergency thing for Bossman.

IM best friend from Cap City, Blue, about the dream. Blue jokingly suggests I go see a Scientologist.

Lippy IMs and I respond. He sends me a picture of his motorcycle. I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle and would like to, but then I find out he doesn’t actually have it here. I wonder if he remembers that he promised to buy me a drink tomorrow.

Afternoon

Shorty tells me she’s hungry so I try to find out of The Kid is going to show up anytime soon, but I don’t hear from him until it’s too late and we’ve already ordered. Bo is napping but he likes things that are bland and made out of chicken.

Waiting for the food to come, I read some favorite blogs and come across this article, and I’m satisfied with that as the explanation for my recent sex dream.

During lunch there are fortune cookies and The Kid does the thing where you say “in bed” after every forture and this gets Shorty talking about her nonexistent sex life. Which makes me think about mine, and the article, and I almost bring it up but I don’t want to be asked if I sleep on my stomach and if so what erotic dreams do I have and who are they about since that would be the logical flow of conversation.

After lunch I realize Bossman hasn’t updated the project software in a while and we’re waiting on his input for a lot of things, so I IM and ask him if he’s gotten the alerts and he says no. Or, he says “negative” because that’s how he says no. I figure he probably just didn’t see the emails, or filtered them out and forgot, but figure out a work around regardless.

When I get around to leaving, Bo finally starts talking to me about some work that Bossman needs to approve. Nothing about Pants, though.

Evening

I walk home and eat dinner and watch TV on the internet until my laptop battery starts to get low and I think I should plug it in but it’s late and dark and it’s a long walk and I can’t just leave it there because I’ll be in the office and not the workshop and I’ll need it at the office so I’d have to get up extra early and walk and get it, or I can call The Kid and see if he’s still there. He’s at home. Home happens to be down the hall. He hands me keys to the van.

It’s been years since I’ve driven a car where the headlights don’t turn on automatically and people are flashing theirs at me. It takes me a while to figure out how to turn them on.

The van is very large and I rarely drive cars much less “free candy” size vans like this one. At first I try to start it with my bike lock key. It gets stuck several times before I figure it out. Finally it’s moving, and I feel pretty badass in that thing. It’s big, and people out in the street get out of my way. It’s a short ride and I finally get there and am able to back it into the parking lot* get out and get in the shop. I don’t see Bo and figure he’s watching TV in his room, I grab the cable but see him on the way out.

When I get back I spend about ten minutes trying to park on the street. I’m not even parallel parking. It’s embarrassing and luckily there is no one around, or so I think until I’m pretty much parked and the car in front of me takes off. I curse as I realize they saw me park horribly on the other side of the street, check the signs, and get back into the beast of a van to park it again, taking forever to back up in the street.

I think about how I’d been planning on writing about today as an average day in my new life, and then I realize that still doesn’t exist.

*Be amazed. Be very amazed.

The New Beginning

I’m sitting with Bo on a decrepit tan sofa and suddenly it hits me that I’m actually going to have sex with him. Not because I’m at all attracted to him or anything, but because I’m really horny. Apparently five months of celibacy will make a girl do crazy things that she’d never otherwise do, including breaking self-inforced rules including:

1. Thou shalt not sleep with coworkers.
2. Thou shalt not sleep with people that you do not want to ever sleep with again if you know you will be seeing them again in the future.

The breaking of the rules is okay, somehow, because we’re using a condom. And it’s good until after, when Bo starts talking about how much he likes me and how excited he is about this new relationship and I’m screaming inside and suddenly I’m not on the decrepit sofa anymore but in my old bedroom in my parents’ house and Bo is miles away and we’ve never done anything beyond shake hands.

These are the thoughts that run through my head, in order:

1. UGH.
2. Thank the gods that was only a dream.
3. UGH.
4. Why BO?
5. UGH.
6. Dude I really need to get laid.
7. That was the most graphically detailed sex dream ever.
8. UGH.
9. I need to tell someone about this.

So it was that dream that lead me to need to start blogging again. Here’s the thing: My life is absolutely insane right now. For one thing, I work for a crazy person. Bossman is one of those eccentric genius types. I manage a bunch of engineers working on a top secret project. Not only that, but I live with most of them. We share a house. It’s supposed to be temporary, but this is the craziest rental market probably in the world (except maybe Tokyo, but that’s just a guess) and I’m holding off until I have all the necessary documents needed to convince someone that I can pay them huge wads of cash on a monthly basis for a roof over my head.

Except Bo doesn’t live here, and neither does the engineer who I always forget exists, and neither does my boss.

My ex fiancé, Pike, does, though. He lives in the basement. He’s the one who found me this job.

We’ve been friends for the four years since we’ve broken up. There’s no chance we’re going to get back together. Our relationship was quite toxic. And I’m not going to hook up with him again because, frankly, that part of the relationship wasn’t that good, either.

So if I was really desperate I’d probably pick Bo over Pike. This is probably moot though because Bossman’s friend Lippy keeps hitting on me.

The strangest thing was coming home to Chilltown after being away for a week. I think that’s what really makes a place a home, not “where the heart is” because that doesn’t make any sense. When you leave for a while, and then you come back and you say “I’m going home” and that place you end up when you do that, that’s home. So right now my home is a bedroom smaller than Harry’s closet under the stairs in a dull and slightly sketchy neighborhood a 45 minute public transportation jaunt from the greatest city in the world.

On the long way home from my Hometown I think about how crazy everything is, and how I need to start documenting it, starting with that dream, so I can start making sense of it. Even if I have to leave out certain details, like for example, what the company I work for actually does. Someone has to write this shit down, and since I’m living it, it’s going to have to be me.

Right now I can’t tell what’s more annoying: the sound of crickets or the sound of steel drums.