Oh my gracious you guys it's been a while and I'm sorry but I only really come here when I have drama, and well, now I have drama.

Let me tell you about it.

So Friday I went to visit my old project, and I ran into R. He said that we should go get a beer, and was I working tomorrow, and I should call him so we could get a beer. He walked me back to my project, looking vaguely jealous when one of my guys said hi to me in a friendly playful flirty fashion.

So yesterday. I called him when I got off work, like he asked me to, and he told me where his home bar was, and to meet him there. 

Girl walks into a bar. R says hello, already two sheets to the wind, and he's saved me a seat beside him, with his brother Tim on the other side. R introduces me to everyone in the bar and puts his arm around me, exclaiming how glad he is I came.

Q comes up in conversation, and R says, "Christina, don't you ever date him. He's a huge douchebag. If you date him, I'm disowning you. You've got to screen your dates through me from now on. Not because I want to date you or anything (although that is kinda what I'm aiming for)..." and his voice trails off like he does. "You're a brazil nut." he says, "...You're a hard nut to crack. They're the hardest nuts to crack. But they're so delicious." I guess he was referencing that I wasn't responding to any of his come-ons.

And the reason I just don't respond instead of tell him something or another for him to go away is that I'm a terrible liar and what am I to tell him? I might maaaaaybe have a boyfriend in a few months? Spill out my life story? Not happening.

Meanwhile, R is kinda handsy, not in an inappropriate way, but he is somehow always touching me. He's putting my hair behind my ear, got his arm around me, puts his hand on my knee... he asks me if any/all of that is okay, and that he would stop if it was not, but I didn't really care, as it was harmless and he was drunk.

We talk about work. He said how he wanted me (that was how he phrased it) ...and not just in one way, in many ways, he clarified. He praised my efforts as an engineer, my respect for the knowledge of mechanics, and that he respected me for that, as he doesn't see it often. My mentor was celebrating because a girl was leaving her project, and R asked her if that meant they could have me back. My mentor said whhaaattt no, my mentor doesn't work well with girls, whatever.

He calls me an asshole. Several times, actually, usually when he's touching my hair or admiring something or I've said something funny. The first time he does it, I object: I am the least asshole-like person I know. "No, as a person you're not an asshole at all. You're an asshole for how I feel about you."
"You're married, doesn't that make you an asshole?"
He objects. He talks about how he's leaving her to move in with my buddy D in a few weeks. He says that he's not looking forward to the backlash, although ultimately he'll be much happier with the result.

I'm looking at him for some reason, and he tells me my eyes are pretty again. I tell him I'm going to get colored contacts to make them brown, and he calls me an asshole again and pulls me in toward him on the stool for a hug. "I hate you.' he says.

We talk about golf and friends and work and whatever for a while, and we move outside for R to smoke. He puts his arm around me and pulls me in. We talk for a while and he says, "I have a crush on you. Like, I feel like a high school kid, with the heart racing and I'm always excited to see you. You make me happy."

"I kinda figured, after Chief's party."

"Yeah, but this is the first time I've said it out loud."

He hugged me again, saying, "I hate you. You're an asshole. God, I hate you. I hate that I like you so much." And he kept looking at me. When I told him I would leave to alleviate that, he objected, saying he wanted me around. I broke out, jokingly saying, "enough cuddling, let's go inside." 

I started walking back but he caught my wrist and pulled me back in. "I like cuddling." he said. When I broke out again, he followed me inside.

More of the same, R being forward, me minimizing or avoiding, never responding. R talks about how I should come out tomorrow after disc golf with some of his friends, how I should volunteer for this disc golf thing, how he wants me there for his 30th birthday in a couple of weeks and on Wednesdays when his home bar does tacos, and a ton of different things... "I'll buy you a beer. Or twelve. And I'll make sure you get home alright. I won't even touch you or anything, just drive you around and that would be that."

We go outside to smoke again, one of his friends comes to the bar and we all talk about stuff, R gets ready to leave. He reminds me about the next day, after disc golf, and leaves. So Tim and I are at the bar, sobering up to go home, and R texts me, thanking me for coming and reminding me about the next day, and talking about random stuff, like what happened to him for dinner and whatnot, because apparently now we are best buds.

I go home, find that Derek has texted me, I am so happy, I text him, and Querida, and I call my buddy from work Brian to talk to him about how crazy R is being.

After I get off the phone with Brian, I find a text from R, asking me if I want to get a drink. As though I was not just with him at his bar drinking PBR. I told him no and continued texting Derek.

This morning, I get a text from him saying that he was really upset, but there would be no going out after disc golf today, due to the preponderance of cops for cinco de mayo. That is one way this dude is a shitbag: he does not drive completely sober all the time. If we're to hang out any more, that shit will stop.

Anyway. So he wished me a happy Sunday and that was that.

Feelings about this: No. That pretty much sums it up: No. No, no, no. The next time we hang out, there will be none of this hanging all over me business. He is married and I am somewhat spoken for ish and that is no no no no no. Granted, he is not legally married but I do not make that distinction. And granted Derek is not my boyfriend but I guess he kinda feels like one, so I get none of the fun of boyfriendiness and all of the work and/or responsibility. Oh, well. 

It was really nice to have someone adoring me again, as horrible as that sounds. I've never had someone tell me they were crushing on me before. But I want the attention coming from elsewhere. Gah. So to sum up: I need to watch the hell out for R. That man is so much freaking trouble.

So Paige didn't like my favorite dress from yesterday, so now it gets to be a surprise.

I had a dream last night that one of my coworkers, Chops, was quitting his job where I work and starting his own business. R was in it, too, and Chops wanted me to quit my job to help him do the work. R really wanted me to come to the meetings and work with him.

I looked to R and talked about how I needed the health benefits that came with my job, and so later in the dream, I was at work and Chops showed up. He said that R was keeping his job as well, for the same reason I'd kept mine, and we would both work for him part-time.

Why do I dream about these things?

Time to go work on my front yard some more. I can't wait to see all these changes I'm making be finished with.

My mind is weird and a little rambly tonight.

WARNING: This post will be a very subtle rated R and rated XXX for TMI CHRISTINA OH GOD MY EYES ARE BLEEDING.

You've been warned.

I want to talk about feelings, so of course, I won't talk about feelings. Who needs those things, anyway.

So, as promised, sex.

I noticed something weird yesterday night. Namely, that I'm not the only girl on the block that likes her hair pulled, but that's neither here nor there. What I notice is, there's a lot of power dynamic stuff going on during sexytimes. (And am I the only one who thinks so?) There's usually a more dominant and a more submissive partner. Sometimes the roles switch up, shift gear, try something new.

I find that when the roles change up, the newness of it is exciting, so then it becomes not as much a game of come-into-my-castle if you will, and more a sort of power exchange. You dare each other to do more things, see what happens. That is about what happened last night, only we never really got to the end of it, and I was pretty bummed about that. I have kind of really been wanting to play come-into-my-castle lately.

Anyway. We were shoving each other around, pulling hair, biting, pinning, hands at throats, it was....phenomenal. Ah how I wish...but if wishes were ponies, beggars would ride. It's weird to think that I was as straitlaced as I was in high school, given how much I'm acting out in that respect. I had a few hickeys on my neck, light ones, a blood blister on my lip, and my coworker D came up to me at work today. "You better tell him to quit that stuff."

I looked around. D pointed to his neck. I hadn't realized, and covered mine with a smile. My coworker Aaron looked up from his computer.

"Eventful night?"
"Not as eventful as I might have liked, but these things happen."
"Do they?" He had already turned back to his computer, and raised his eyebrow at the screen.

I like being the dominated, instead of the dominating, but I can see the value in give and take. And sometimes you just have to switch it up. On a different occasion, gah...I'm literally like a crazy horndog all the time around him. I catch myself wanting him so terribly, and sometimes I could swear I am much more on than he is. It's weird to think about, Christina with a Libido. 

And there's as good a segue as I'm going to get. So sometimes, when I am much more on, I make moves, and this is less of a powerful position than you might expect. Just as though you were attacking with swords, you're leaving yourself vulnerable. You have to extend the sword arm out, exposing the heart. You have to open yourself up to the possibility that you're going to get rejected. Whereas the defensive player, the less on partner, he has only to turn you away. By having the last say about what happens, he holds all the power. He still gets the positive- he is wanted, someone is trying to get some of that- and none of your negative, he is not rejected.

It must be extraordinarily difficult being a boy in the dating game.

Like this. I work in a very VERY male-dominated environment. Females are a small minority. As a young and tolerably pretty one, I get a great deal of attention just by virtue of having boobs and breathing. I am king of the mountain at work, because while I get all the attention, all of the compliments, all of the glory, I have only to reject the men that give me those things, and nothing goes where I don't want it to. I hold the power.

Example. Today at work, I saw my friend R as I was walking out. He saw me, called out to me, and put his arm around me, making small talk and going out of his way. I led, he followed. A single word, a shrug of the shoulder, I still have all that good compliment stuff he was dishing out, and none of the rejected feeling. Power. It's fantastic being a girl.

Further example. I am usually the one to initiate talk with the boy. I'm the one that reaches for his hand before he reaches for mine. I chased him for a very long time, constantly open to rejection. He held the power, still does. It feels awful, always being thus exposed. You can want all you want, but you have to be wanted as well, or you'll burn out.

And now we get down to where Christina's mind really is tonight. 

Not tellin'.

I have always worn my heart on my sleeve, open for God and everyone to see. It makes me a horrible player in this game. I need to end on a positive.

Last night was in every other respect, however, completely wonderful. We went to dinner, and he was a gentleman, and he made me feel like a lady. We talked about dreams and gods and history over good food, tucked into a corner of what is possibly my favorite restaurant. We now share an admiration of Grace Kelly and we're planning to see the world. He trusted my tastes, but more than that, my memory of his tastes, and looked to me with unaffected and rapt attention when I spoke. It was actually... the best not-date date I've had. Ever. We watched The Rear Window and The Birds and we tore at each other desperately, and if that's not all a great night, I do not know how you would define one.

Time now to put my focus back on my life here. On my house, my job, my dog, friends. There's plenty of time for the rest, later. I'll keep saying that until I get old.

I've got that freaking song stuck in my head, godsdammit.

TOM. Early, for once. (it's kinda a relief this time, if truth be told) And THAT would be why I wanted to eat everything in the world yesterday.

So many things happened since the last time I blogged.

We'll start with before the funeral and end with after the funeral.

I went to Derek's house for some reason before I had to leave for the airport, so while I was there, the scheme was hatched that he was to drive me and my brother to the airport.

Derek came home with me, and we slept together, the waking up was wonderful, and we drove to the airport. He picked us back up from the airport when our flight was cancelled, because airlines suck.

My brother and I finally got to Wisconsin, and it was a whirlwind of trying to help out as much as we could and trying to do the right thing by everyone, and with my family it's always a mess.

The funeral...I spent my time comforting Sara and Steven and Richard while they cried, and I cried myself, and everyone came together at least for that. Afterward, my uncle Bobby was drunk and he grabbed hold of me to tell me that "grandma was happy," and he shook me. He's like a five year old. You just have to let him do what he's going to. I hate feeling this way about my godfather, but he's by far and away my least favorite uncle.

Sara and I flew out the next morning. Derek was there waiting at the airport, which I didn't know until after I razzed him about it. Derek and I hung out at home, and I found out...something very interesting about him. I'm going to have to do some more research on that. I made corned beef and colcannon and irish soda bread, and we watched Game of Thrones. Derek kissed me tenderly while we stood there in the kitchen, and I thought that was wonderful. Derek liked the food, and I was glad- I love it when people like my food. Everyone came home, the spell was broken, and I had to be at work the next day.

So I dropped Derek off, and etcetera.

Today at work, I dropped by my old project to say hello, and R appreciated my method to picking my basketball bracket: "I hope you win, because of that" he said. He petted my hair and we talked about work, and when I got up to leave, he said, "don't leave me," and I went to hug him as a joke, but it ended up one of those awkward his-head-ended-up-by-my-boob hugs, so we both didn't draw attention to it, I petted his hair and left. 

My coworker Aaron and I were talking about work, and about our futures in the company, without looking up from our computer screens. "So after all these pay cuts," I said, "what happens if they don't make a decision about next year's budget?"
"I don't know."
"This blows."
"Yes, it does."

I love my coworkers. We had a training the other day, and it seemed like they all rallied around me, for some reason. I asked the most questions, the guys joked with me the most, and I loved being the center of everyone's attention. It was awesome, is what I'm saying.

Time to prepare to go camping with Derek and his family this weekend. I'm so excited. I love spending time with him, but even his family, too. His dad called me gorgeous the other day when I went over to fill out my bracket and they took me to dinner. I love that family.

Truants move on, cannot stay long/ Some die just to live

That song came on when I went running today.

I knew, when I was talking to her on the phone, that I was saying goodbye, I just didn't want to face it then. I told her I loved her, that she inspired me, that she was important and I missed her, that I loved her and I'd talk to her soon.

I still cried all the way back over toward home. I didn't know until today I was so adept at crying and driving at the same time.

I think I may have lost my mind today if it weren't for Derek. He let me cry.

I got a call from Aunt Karen while I was in Panera with my friends Amanda and Tim, so I went around the corner to take it. She said that grandma had passed, and we said the Eternal Rest together, Aunt Karen kissing her forehead for me. I told her again that I loved her.

It's not enough.

I'm so bad at losing people.

I went home to check in on everyone, and everyone in my house was doing things they would normally do. No one looked upset. I hugged everyone. They all asked me if I was okay.

No, I'm not fucking okay. But I'll tell you that I am.

I drove home, and Derek was wonderful, and Tim was wonderful, and everyone's been wonderful, but she's still gone.

She's still gone. The toughest old broad I'll ever meet, the nicest and sweetest and sassiest, and she's gone and it hurts right there in the middle of my chest like someone's reached in there and yanked out my insides.

Ithurts.

I thought all the tears were gone earlier, but they just keep coming and oh god I'm alone make this stop. When I wake up tomorrow, she'll still be gone. 

How is that fair, a heathen like me living and she's dead. It's a good thing no one's around, by the sounds that are coming out of me right now, you'd think I was the one dying. I don't know how I'm going to get up tomorrow, but it's got to happen. 

Grandma would kick my ass if I didn't.