funny how this is suppose to follow me as i try to find my way to the UK - and yet thus far, barely a mention of it. where is my mind?
maybe casey holds the answer.... he apparently is in some way responsible for almost every incredibly happy moment that has happened in my recent life. and god bless him for it. i don't know what i would do without you dryden... and after almost ten years, i don't think i'll ever be able to shake you if i try....
there's something that happened years ago that he may or may not remember. i told this story this past sunday morning to three wonderful new friends of mine that case introduced me to - and it's something that surfaces now and again and makes me smile and realize what an amazing friend i have in case.
it was the night before tickets for the crazy roxy cure show went on sale. a thursday night- an 80's night at masquerade night. we stayed out until some ridiculous hour for a thursday and came home way into the a.m. case sat up with me in the living room once we got home and just told me that it made him happy to see me dancing because i loved the music so much and that it was the happiest he sees me.... so simple, yet it will stay with me forever.
so now the casey effect has introduced another boy. i am afraid to spill too much yet as i fear i will jinx myself. but for now - i will say this...
i filled out this silly online quiz thing once where i had to answer "________ is sexy. ________ is sexier." a boy who watches me dance is sexy. a boy who dances with me is sexier. to have both is a beautiful feeling.... and to catnap on his shoulder hours later with his hand resting on the small of my back.... is something higher. i have never felt so lovely.
casey - bringing good into my life for nine years...
the heidi chronicles
Tuesday, September 30, 2003
Thursday, September 25, 2003
if listening to placebo made me any happier or made me feel any sexier, i'd swear brian molko was singing directly to me...
"hold your breath and count to ten, fall apart and then start again"... english summer rain is the greatest song ever written. somebody please take me dancing!
"hold your breath and count to ten, fall apart and then start again"... english summer rain is the greatest song ever written. somebody please take me dancing!
Wednesday, September 24, 2003
at jerry portwood's suggestion, i am starting this thing... he even titled it for me. i tend to bottle things up - that isn't true. i actually talk about them incessantly (sp?) until even i am sick of hearing about it, but it never seems to get it out of my system until i see it written out. i am hoping this will help me purge my soul, so to speak.
as i had the greatest and worst weekend of my entire life this weekend, i thought, "what better time to begin?"
newly liberated, 14 weeks and counting, i am reminded that i have never been single long enough to become any good at it. i am determined to know and love my status, however, and believe i truly am getting better at it - if my damn emotions would stay the hell out of it.
i am down 30 pounds since the last time and feel really good about myself for the first time in a long time. that is helping. and england. let's not forget england, the main reason i left relationship land in the first place. as most of you know already, i want to move to the UK. not forever. but something is drawing me there, and i must get it out of my system. the plan of attack has changed numerous times since this decision was reached - currently, we're talking grad school. i am applying to a school in wales which has me giddy with excitement.
but what about this weekend? here goes...
there is currently a boyfriend/serious relationship ban on my life. effective until my feet are firmly planted on european soil. but i met the boy who could've changed all that this weekend. and in the span of 20 hours, we had run the entire gamut - first sight to utter heartbreak. my heart broken. i can't believe how fragile i allowed myself to be.
we'd been talking over the course of a couple of months. he was in town with friends. we met, and i developed a small crush, but behaved myself. although, he was - sorry, i can use no other term - quite adorable. not even quite. devastatingly so. i didn't sense any mutual feelings, so i expected nothing more than to make a new friend.
later i met up with them again. he was instantly very warm with me. affectionate. within 30 minutes and one drink, there was embracing and back rubbing. again i stress - adorable. moments later i would experience the beginning of a series of the greatest kisses of my life. hands down, from what appeared to be the sweetest boy i had ever had the privilege of kissing. i say boy - he's my age for once.
i took him away with me with no intentions other than to continue said most-wonderful-kisses-of my life with a little jeff buckley playing in the background. but i forgot what jeff buckley is capable of and i let things get further than intended. i held him through the night, he seemed receptive and welcoming to the affection.
the next morning it was your classic one-night-stand awkwardness. i try to never let that happen, but suddenly he was stand-offish and not quite cold, but i don't know any other word for it.
i can only imagine he must have had some awful thought about me - what kind of a girl has her own condoms (my ex thought that before we started dating too - silly double standards)... and if that's the case, his loss i guess. i don't need that anyway... but wow. i could have lost myself in that boy.
i am bad to share entirely too much information, but let it suffice to say, everything up to that morning indicated to me - and still indicates to me - that this isn't just the average asshole thing we do sometimes in these awkward intimate situations. think me naive, but i have known enough of those jerks - male and female - to recognize that this wasn't exactly the case here. problem is, i can't imagine what was.
he basically ran screaming from me once we got to his car. he said we'd talk soon and - classically - he hasn't even let me know he got back alright.
so now it's out and i will put this little heartache to bed. look in on it when i might have more insight. otherwise, be grateful for the kissing and move along.
sometimes i feel like such a bad girl.... but really i am not. slut has always been a term to me that meant sleeping around to get something out of it other than the experience itself. using sex as a tool of manipulation, to trap a guy or get him to give you stuff in return. not sex for the sake of sex - for the pleasure of the actual act - not when all involved are honest with each other and are there to simply please and be pleased. maybe someday i will find someone who agrees with that. who knows.
i questioned myself all day until i was tired of it. then i saw "Lost in Translation." excellent film - everyone should go out and see it right now.
as i had the greatest and worst weekend of my entire life this weekend, i thought, "what better time to begin?"
newly liberated, 14 weeks and counting, i am reminded that i have never been single long enough to become any good at it. i am determined to know and love my status, however, and believe i truly am getting better at it - if my damn emotions would stay the hell out of it.
i am down 30 pounds since the last time and feel really good about myself for the first time in a long time. that is helping. and england. let's not forget england, the main reason i left relationship land in the first place. as most of you know already, i want to move to the UK. not forever. but something is drawing me there, and i must get it out of my system. the plan of attack has changed numerous times since this decision was reached - currently, we're talking grad school. i am applying to a school in wales which has me giddy with excitement.
but what about this weekend? here goes...
there is currently a boyfriend/serious relationship ban on my life. effective until my feet are firmly planted on european soil. but i met the boy who could've changed all that this weekend. and in the span of 20 hours, we had run the entire gamut - first sight to utter heartbreak. my heart broken. i can't believe how fragile i allowed myself to be.
we'd been talking over the course of a couple of months. he was in town with friends. we met, and i developed a small crush, but behaved myself. although, he was - sorry, i can use no other term - quite adorable. not even quite. devastatingly so. i didn't sense any mutual feelings, so i expected nothing more than to make a new friend.
later i met up with them again. he was instantly very warm with me. affectionate. within 30 minutes and one drink, there was embracing and back rubbing. again i stress - adorable. moments later i would experience the beginning of a series of the greatest kisses of my life. hands down, from what appeared to be the sweetest boy i had ever had the privilege of kissing. i say boy - he's my age for once.
i took him away with me with no intentions other than to continue said most-wonderful-kisses-of my life with a little jeff buckley playing in the background. but i forgot what jeff buckley is capable of and i let things get further than intended. i held him through the night, he seemed receptive and welcoming to the affection.
the next morning it was your classic one-night-stand awkwardness. i try to never let that happen, but suddenly he was stand-offish and not quite cold, but i don't know any other word for it.
i can only imagine he must have had some awful thought about me - what kind of a girl has her own condoms (my ex thought that before we started dating too - silly double standards)... and if that's the case, his loss i guess. i don't need that anyway... but wow. i could have lost myself in that boy.
i am bad to share entirely too much information, but let it suffice to say, everything up to that morning indicated to me - and still indicates to me - that this isn't just the average asshole thing we do sometimes in these awkward intimate situations. think me naive, but i have known enough of those jerks - male and female - to recognize that this wasn't exactly the case here. problem is, i can't imagine what was.
he basically ran screaming from me once we got to his car. he said we'd talk soon and - classically - he hasn't even let me know he got back alright.
so now it's out and i will put this little heartache to bed. look in on it when i might have more insight. otherwise, be grateful for the kissing and move along.
sometimes i feel like such a bad girl.... but really i am not. slut has always been a term to me that meant sleeping around to get something out of it other than the experience itself. using sex as a tool of manipulation, to trap a guy or get him to give you stuff in return. not sex for the sake of sex - for the pleasure of the actual act - not when all involved are honest with each other and are there to simply please and be pleased. maybe someday i will find someone who agrees with that. who knows.
i questioned myself all day until i was tired of it. then i saw "Lost in Translation." excellent film - everyone should go out and see it right now.