i know it’s been days since i’ve been writing regularly here. i guess i’ve been busy and thinking and just not in the mood to elaborate on my goings on.

i did want to mention that i happened to be reading the blog of the girl (poor thing, i feel sorry for her) who the “old man” (remember him? fucker) came to see.

well. sounds like she’s been fucked over. or something like that.

i wonder if it’s something he did. it would not surprise me in the least. i absolutely felt that he would fuck her over too, when i realized what he was doing to me.

but the thing is, i am much older, much more experience in life and with men, and i always knew, at some level, that he was not for real. and so i did not take it all that seriously, and repeatedly told him to stop going on and on about things that may never occur. even when he sent me the necklace for xmas, well, i still didn’t really believe in him.

but her. i worried about him hurting her. i didn’t think she’d realize.

he used her too i bet.

at least with me, it wasn’t so bad. i wasn’t as stupid as i have been in the past.

i guess it gives me a little comfort, to know it was not me. but i feel sorry for her. i wanted to write a supportive comment on her blog, but i refrained. i wanted to tell her, it’s not you…

ah. the last word got your attention didn’t it?

last night i went to see an author at the orchestra’s beloved home. i can’t specify–you know why. dammed googlers.

anyway. one of the ushers was the man who told me to send him a manuscript. he’s a publisher. i mentioned this earlier. he’s heard me read in public and liked what he heard…so…he said to send him some of my work.

however, we got into it about MY orchestra, which he doesn’t really realize he’s insulting those whom i love. it wasn’t a nasty exchange, but i bristled when he insulted them. really. does he truly know what he’s talking about anyway?

so i said this: are you a musician??

and he said: well no. but i always wanted to be.

me: well i AM. so you don’t know what you’re talking about (how very arrogant of me, but for him to make the proclamations he was making, well…who is he anyway?)

so forrest drags me away and we get some liquor and i realize, that, uh oh, i just got into an argument with potential publisher. shit.

we drink. i go back and he’s all sweet to me. hmmmphf. maybe he realized he shouldn’t have been rude. well anyway. we seemed to be fine (it wasn’t an angry discussion, just disagreeing)

so the author i went to see was awesome! (see flickr photos) she didn’t read anything. she didn’t talk about her work. she spoke about women’s rights in the world. the state of women. it was really wonderful. the audience loved her. they gave her a standing ovation. i’ve been to a lot of author things, and NEVER have any of them (some more famous than her), gotten a standing ovation.

now comes the betrayal. while forrest and i were waiting for the event to begin, after our drink (i was having a coniption and made him go back in and sit down because i was afraid some rude person would steal our seats and warned him how much fun i’d be then, if that happened, so he acquiesed) we started to talk about that man i had a crush on, who is friends with his writer friend G.

he’s the one who i expressed interest in at xmas (to his friend) and then he did not attend my holiday get-together and i felt very bad about that. i assumed that he wasn’t interested, mainly, because i am too fat for him (because he didn’t know me well enough for it to be my personality). well. who knows. but automatically, when someone doesn’t like me, i assume that it’s because i am overweight. knee jerk reaction, but it is what it is.

and then i saw him unexpectedly at that poetry reading a month or so ago. and i was really mad then, because as soon as i saw him, i still felt exactly the same fucking way as the first time i saw him. and I NEVER HAVE THAT REACTION TO MEN (with the exception of online crush, and my bfriend Hamid in Paris, both of whom I adored instantly upon sight–of course, online crush and i had been corresponding [and more] so that contributed to my weak knees upon seeing him the first time–damn him). i was mad that i still was a mess and could barely look at him.

i’m not generally shy, but when i like a man, i become very shy. at first anyway. once they know me, i’m much better.

okay. back to the story at hand.

so somehow it comes up that in fact, the tall drink of water who i’d had a crush on (and apparently still do, though i’d like to deny it) was left by his girlfriend, for another man.

not just another man, but his BEST FRIEND.

instantly i felt bad for him.

because i know how that feels.

she wasn’t my best friend, but i did have a friend “steal” one of my boyfriends. the colunmbia-professor-son-artist-we-have-a-home-on-MV bf who i would have married had he felt the same way (which he didn’t).

so that’s the story with him. perhaps B, it has nothing to do with you.

perhaps he’s just really hurt.

i get that. i get it now. remember a month ago when i was supposed to go on that date to the art gallery and i cried for two hours beforehand, wishing i didn’t have to go. i was TERRIFIED. i didn’t think i could possibly stand any more rejection.

and i was telling my cousin (he’s a man) the other day, about rachacha man, and he said “well, it sounds like he just doesn’t want to hurt you”

that’s from a man. it made me feel better, and sometimes, i did/do feel that way.

so we shall see this evening….

i applied for the job overseas as i mentioned. not the Spain one (that was over a month ago, and it wasn’t a firm opening) but the Egypt one. of course, i realized that i’ve applied to them 3X already. this is time #4. perhaps they’ll just interview me for fun. like: “who’s this silly girl who keeps applying but doesn’t have a snowball chance in the desert?”

now i’ve just got to put it out of my mind.

if i don’t go, it’s a new car and a house for me. at least, this is the tentative plan…

well.

i am finally going to get to see rachacha man.

my friends from mythaca, are playing a gig in rachacha tomorrow evening.

racha man and i have been chatting again.

i mentioned the gig to him (he is a musician, you may or may not remember).

we are scheduled to meet tomorrow night, at the gig.

i gave myself a pedicure, waxed my upper lip, and tomorrow i will take a new shaver to my legs.

hey.

you never know.

well. i DO know.

i plan on behaving, but better to be prepared. right?

aren’t happy with something i’ve written here, then it’s probably a good idea to speak to me about it.

just saying.