Hiding out at Cafe Express

Here I hide. Just tonight. Typically courageous enough to tackle my life. But tonight I hide. I can't really handle it tonight. The misery that my life has become. And I think and wonder what I did to deserve this life of mine as I light one cigar off of the next. I'll probably sit here all night wondering. I see my friend OT, and think of calling his name, but then again, I'm hiding.

Here is the list of things I've done wrong in my life- frank and honest:

1. Sex before marriage- yep, it's my vice. Still is. It's easy for me to give my body away to anyone who seemingly wants to take it.

2. I cheated on Person A with Double B's for months while he was MIA. He never forgave me, although I think he forgives me now. I was, however, completely faithful to a fault when we were married. I can say that with conviction.

3. I don't pray anymore, or serve my Faith. I was burned in my divorce by the people who claimed to be followers of my Prophet and I think it damaged my relationship with God.

4. I started drinking, but only liquor and only Luxardo Sambuca. I'm serious about it. I just like the way it tastes. It actually sucks that it has alcohol, because I really dislike drinking altogether, and the things it does to people.

5. I threw my old boss under the bus because someone point blank asked if I thought she was doing a good job and I said "no" I was just being honest.

6. I don't talk to my parents as often as I should because I feel like they'll just worry about me.

7. I keep running away hoping to find something better- shocker I know.

I'm looking for a job. In another part of the country, only I don't know where to go. Do I want the big city again- I can certainly navigate it. Although I dream of living in Terre du Lac again, on the lake and working a part-time job, driving my old car and being quiet. I think of by childhood friend Julie who's mom went and lived on an island off the coast of Washington for 3 years and water colored everyday in order to re-group. But how many times am I going to re-group? Can't I just get it together? Maybe I should start writing the book. Or maybe my grandmother would give me the money to live for a while. I keep praying for someone to sweep me up and give me some aid- not monetarily, but in life in general.

Please don't let them destroy my house

That's a direct quote from my aunt whom with I live. She has gone away for the weekend to Martha's Vineyard and my 25 year-old cousin was granted permission to throw a party here at the house. This house is a beautiful house, please keep that in mind. A 100 year-old carriage house in a little village just north of NYC. It is very quaint and very cute. After an entire day of thirty 25 year-olds descending on it here is the scene:

- ping pong table in the front yard with a thick coating of beer from numerous rounds of beer pong
- slip and slide with hose made for 6 year-olds
- 4,000 empty beer cans
- every dish, cup and utensil from my aunt's kitchen strewn all over the front porch
- food particles laying all over her wrought iron table
- loud music blasting from the front porch
- hooping and hollering from yet another intense game of Beer Ruth

I tried my best to keep everything clean as we went, fulling cleaning after round one of eating. Round two ensued when I was taking a nap at 8pm and now the task of picking up is way too daunting. Tomorrow morning is not going to be fun.

Rain rain go away

I'm sure you'll be back some other day (sooner than I would like)

So it has literally rained every-single-day since I moved here three months ago. The only time it does not rain is when I am in Houston or DC. Even if the day starts off sunny you can be assured that it will end with a shower.

There are two things I should have purchased the minute I got into this crazy rainy city: 1. a rain coat and 2. UGGs.

I think everyone in the city is suffering from that syndrome where you get depressed from not enough exposure to the sun (Gold Reeves could you please chime in and give me the name). A lot of people in Alaska have it apparently, but now it has caught on in NY- like a trend.

I'm depressed especially now because the poor US Open is getting rained and flooded out. It's insane. I don't think this has ever happened in the history of golf. It's madness!

If your name is Courtney or Mazza and you are coming to visit this weekend- bring you waist high rain suit, galoshes and an umbrella!

I am looking for

A bright green comforter. Grass green to be specific. Please send in your submissions. I kind of like this one from Crate & Barrel...

I need one of these

for my golf bag of course.

Best closers

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Message Typed by Old Thumbs, So Forgive Misspellings

This was the signature line on an email I received from an old guy. I love it!

Rootless Tree

I've been formulating this blog entry in my head for weeks now. Unsure how to capture just what it is that I'm going through in this phase of my life.

Then the other day KK sent me this video.


And I realized that maybe I'm just a rootless tree.

So the gist of my entire being right now is that I woke up the other day wondering if this is it. As in...is all I have to look forward to everyday in this world getting up and going to work? Climbing the corporate ladder? I mean what if life deals me nothing more? Can I get ok with this? I just don't know.

The last time I was in Houston and spending an evening with The OZ, I realized that I don't really have the feelings for him that I once thought I would or could. On this night I felt sad that I didn't want anything more to do with him than maybe hanging out here and there. There was no pain in my stomach, no sorrow to leave on a plane the next day, nothing really. But the overwhelming feeling that I did have was that I might never feel love again. Here I've been hung up on this person for nearly a year and I wasn't feeling it. My stomach may never jump after anyone. And there may not be another person that I actually desire to spend every moment with. On the other side of the coin...no one may ever love me, adore me, or think I'm really great. Then this sadness lead to other realities, like I will wake up in an empty house every morning. I'll never have the pitter patter of little feet throughout my days. And my poor poor brother will be the only one who will be around.

It may just be a short period that this goes on for, but for the last month I've been dealing with it, hoping something will pull me out. But I may just be a rootless tree forever.