Wandering Ponderings: Welcome To Jesse
Alright, I feel as if introductions are in order. Why, you ask? Well, basically, I'm back. Oh yes, baby. I'm back. and I'm back with a fucking vengence. I would like to apologize to anyone who knew me prior to this past year, and missed me, but she missed you too, and here she is. And she's here to tell her story.
Basically, it's like this. So, I'm in this relationship for a year. And half of it seemed just fucking peachy. Then the other half just got rocky. A million and one reasons, arguments, break-ups, re-dos, recounts, spit-ups and finally a split-up. And I've made it through with a smile on my face. Now, one person feel's they've changed and the other has really no choice in the matter, insofar as keeping it together. They've noticed the change. It was a little hard to miss. They just have to grit their teeth and keep on trucking. So, that's what I did. The air might not be totally cleared between us either, but then again, I'm not losing sleep over that either. I don't care who says what. What was dick, what was fine, what was typical to him, or to me, or to Betty Bumfuck, or whomever, whatever, whereever, whenever. It's no longer my concern. Because I'm not going to keep my face in the past. Who's seeing who, who's not, what's going on, what day is it? Save all your questions to the end... of your life. They're only a little less irrelivant than their answer counterparts. So why bother? I've got all the answers I need. And now for the flying-birdie saltute!
Moving right along. The idea of traveling companions came up in Ian's post. I just wanted to barrow that idea and work with it. In the wake of our seperation, I lost one of these, we'll call them T.C.s for the sake of simplicity. I lost one, and... revalidated... close to ten. I've also begun to question one. So, let's, for the sake of argument, say I've lost two... I've strengthened ten, and am on the way to counting myself as one of them. So, we can call that eleven. The sheer fucking math of it is a pat on the back, and a smile. I've found new strength in old friends, and I'm enjoying it. I am also cleaning house on who's in my inner circle. I've already booted out a few. You'll get your notice in the mail in a few days, afterwhich, you'll have exactly 30.491 seconds to pack your shit and get the fuck out of my face before the door closes on your fucking heads. For the rest of you, I love you all, and your invitations remain fresh. Do make yourselves at home. :) Ah, yes. T.Cs are nice to have. Especially if your T.Cs are true to you, and don't like... you know, say one thing to you, something completely different to someone else, and still go off and do their own thing in the end. I've got no time for liars, two-faced fuckers, or any of the like. There's a prereq. for my group, and that's honesty. It's now REQUIRED before entry. I heard in some movie or another, I think, that you're lucky if you can count your true friends on one hand. Well, fuckin-a. I'm using both hands and a few are spilling over. Rock on. And thank you to those who were there for me when I needed you, and you need always know you can call on me anytime for anything, and I'll come running.
So, Jesus lent me his lovely pair of magical scissors, and I am just pruning the scenery. If I don't like what I see, it won't stay there. *snip snip!* Good-bye! Enjoy your life. And I'm not new, just improved. I've lived, and I'm continuing to do so, and learning every step of the way is at least half the fun. And validating yourself based on yourself is a beautiful thing. I realized that... as I've stated in past, I deserve better. And when I finally feel like maybe trying dating again, I'm just going to have fun. It'll be nice to actually experience romance for a change. But my standards are quite high now. I realized that if I don't jack them up, and quickly, I'm in for a nice ride to a place I don't really want to go... I just left it now, and I don't particularly want to go back. God, I thought it was going to take a lot longer for me to get over Ian. Damn... One week, exactly. I win.
Now, I'm not going to sit here and bash Ian, I've got no need to. He's a nice guy, or he certainly can be. But then again, we can all be douche bags sometimes. And I'm not going to sit and plot revenge against his new sweetie. I don't even know the chick, what do I care? I wish them the best of luck. For Ian, I wish him all the greatest things life has to offer, luck, and love, friendship, good sex, minimal side effects with any non OTC meds he might take, may the toilet seat never be *too* cold, may he always be the pigeon, never the statue, whatever the case may be. Bashing him proves nothing but pettiness, sides, he and I had some good times. We take the good memories, learn from the bad ones, shake hands and leave the ring like mature adults. And as far as he and his new other are considerned, hey, rock on! Aside from my feeling it's one's duty to wish all people the best, in an altruistic manner, it's also that lovely karma bank in the sky might add a nice 300% interest on the good energies I send their way. So, W00T. Besides, being all upset about it is like me making myself sick over the billboard charts in Botswana. I don't particularly give a shit about the billboard charts in Botswana, much the same way I.D.G.A.F.F.F.R.A* about his new romantic encounters. Ergo, no headache for me.
Onwards to life, and a nifty halloween party tonight. Costume party. Looking forward to it. And bring on Halloween, baby!
And always remember:
HERE'S TO YOU AND HERE'S TO ME
MAY WE NEVER DISAGREE
BUT SHOULD WE EVER DISAGREE
FUCK YOU
HERE'S TO ME.
footnotes:
*I.D.G.A.F.F.F.R.A= "I don't give a flying, fiddling, fat rat's ass"
Basically, it's like this. So, I'm in this relationship for a year. And half of it seemed just fucking peachy. Then the other half just got rocky. A million and one reasons, arguments, break-ups, re-dos, recounts, spit-ups and finally a split-up. And I've made it through with a smile on my face. Now, one person feel's they've changed and the other has really no choice in the matter, insofar as keeping it together. They've noticed the change. It was a little hard to miss. They just have to grit their teeth and keep on trucking. So, that's what I did. The air might not be totally cleared between us either, but then again, I'm not losing sleep over that either. I don't care who says what. What was dick, what was fine, what was typical to him, or to me, or to Betty Bumfuck, or whomever, whatever, whereever, whenever. It's no longer my concern. Because I'm not going to keep my face in the past. Who's seeing who, who's not, what's going on, what day is it? Save all your questions to the end... of your life. They're only a little less irrelivant than their answer counterparts. So why bother? I've got all the answers I need. And now for the flying-birdie saltute!
Moving right along. The idea of traveling companions came up in Ian's post. I just wanted to barrow that idea and work with it. In the wake of our seperation, I lost one of these, we'll call them T.C.s for the sake of simplicity. I lost one, and... revalidated... close to ten. I've also begun to question one. So, let's, for the sake of argument, say I've lost two... I've strengthened ten, and am on the way to counting myself as one of them. So, we can call that eleven. The sheer fucking math of it is a pat on the back, and a smile. I've found new strength in old friends, and I'm enjoying it. I am also cleaning house on who's in my inner circle. I've already booted out a few. You'll get your notice in the mail in a few days, afterwhich, you'll have exactly 30.491 seconds to pack your shit and get the fuck out of my face before the door closes on your fucking heads. For the rest of you, I love you all, and your invitations remain fresh. Do make yourselves at home. :) Ah, yes. T.Cs are nice to have. Especially if your T.Cs are true to you, and don't like... you know, say one thing to you, something completely different to someone else, and still go off and do their own thing in the end. I've got no time for liars, two-faced fuckers, or any of the like. There's a prereq. for my group, and that's honesty. It's now REQUIRED before entry. I heard in some movie or another, I think, that you're lucky if you can count your true friends on one hand. Well, fuckin-a. I'm using both hands and a few are spilling over. Rock on. And thank you to those who were there for me when I needed you, and you need always know you can call on me anytime for anything, and I'll come running.
So, Jesus lent me his lovely pair of magical scissors, and I am just pruning the scenery. If I don't like what I see, it won't stay there. *snip snip!* Good-bye! Enjoy your life. And I'm not new, just improved. I've lived, and I'm continuing to do so, and learning every step of the way is at least half the fun. And validating yourself based on yourself is a beautiful thing. I realized that... as I've stated in past, I deserve better. And when I finally feel like maybe trying dating again, I'm just going to have fun. It'll be nice to actually experience romance for a change. But my standards are quite high now. I realized that if I don't jack them up, and quickly, I'm in for a nice ride to a place I don't really want to go... I just left it now, and I don't particularly want to go back. God, I thought it was going to take a lot longer for me to get over Ian. Damn... One week, exactly. I win.
Now, I'm not going to sit here and bash Ian, I've got no need to. He's a nice guy, or he certainly can be. But then again, we can all be douche bags sometimes. And I'm not going to sit and plot revenge against his new sweetie. I don't even know the chick, what do I care? I wish them the best of luck. For Ian, I wish him all the greatest things life has to offer, luck, and love, friendship, good sex, minimal side effects with any non OTC meds he might take, may the toilet seat never be *too* cold, may he always be the pigeon, never the statue, whatever the case may be. Bashing him proves nothing but pettiness, sides, he and I had some good times. We take the good memories, learn from the bad ones, shake hands and leave the ring like mature adults. And as far as he and his new other are considerned, hey, rock on! Aside from my feeling it's one's duty to wish all people the best, in an altruistic manner, it's also that lovely karma bank in the sky might add a nice 300% interest on the good energies I send their way. So, W00T. Besides, being all upset about it is like me making myself sick over the billboard charts in Botswana. I don't particularly give a shit about the billboard charts in Botswana, much the same way I.D.G.A.F.F.F.R.A* about his new romantic encounters. Ergo, no headache for me.
Onwards to life, and a nifty halloween party tonight. Costume party. Looking forward to it. And bring on Halloween, baby!
And always remember:
HERE'S TO YOU AND HERE'S TO ME
MAY WE NEVER DISAGREE
BUT SHOULD WE EVER DISAGREE
FUCK YOU
HERE'S TO ME.
footnotes:
*I.D.G.A.F.F.F.R.A= "I don't give a flying, fiddling, fat rat's ass"