"A little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now." -Les Miserables

Facebook combined with boredom and idle curiosity is a very dangerous way to spend an afternoon.

I discovered a little application on Facebook called the Love Matcher. Love Matcher will analyze your profile against your friends' profiles and tell you your percentage match. So "EX" is on my list of Facebook friends, and he got the highest score out of everyone on my friends list I love matched myself with - a whopping 88%. Now I know for a fact that over the years we've grown so far apart, yet Facebook still thinks we're a good match. I guess that just goes to show you can't trust an algorithm to bring you love and happiness.

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My blogging brings all the married boys to the yard

I've had several married men admit to me that they love reading my blog so much they actually become...aroused. Obviously, this is an unintended side effect of my musings. But I'm wondering, is this merely a case of wanting what they can't have? Or is it something more? Am I subconsciously doing something to attract these unattainable men to myself?

My old boss used to say that I had "spinster" tattooed to my forehead, and that I only let myself be attracted to men who were unavailable. At the time, I would have said he was right because I knew I was not ready to be in a relationship with anyone. I was too big of a mess to worry about anyone other than myself. But now, even though I am more grounded, why am I still sabotaging myself in this way? Is there a way of breaking this vicious cycle?

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leftovers

Remember the first time you fell in love? How completely, irrevocable, eternal and insane it was? And how every time after that was never quite the same? Well, I've been thinking about this. And I think that it's because each time we love someone, we leave a piece of ourselves with them. That piece may be small or large, but regardless, we leave that piece of ourselves with that person to never be reclaimed. This keeps going on and on and each new person we meet gets the "leftovers" - whatever part of us we didn't leave behind with the last person. My only question is when do we run out? When is there no more left? Is there a threshold for how much we can give up of ourselves until there is simply no more left to give?

Maybe this is the reason I haven't had a boyfriend in 6 years. I gave up too much of myself to My Favorite and EX, so I don't have anything left to give. I dunno. All I know is that I'm itching to replicate a feeling I haven't experienced in this millennium. Maybe it's the wrong goal and I'm mismanaging my expectations as a result, but it's truly what I want. Is there anyway to recapture enough of my innocence to make this feasible? Any reader input is encouraged!

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"I don't own emotion, I rent" -Rent

Things have been rather uneventful this weekend (although on a side note, I did find myself some good pie). I blame Harry Potter for the lack of human contact. Why would anyone want to come out and play when you can lock yourself in your house and try to gobble up 759 pages in 48 hours? Well, I for one did not even come close to finishing the book. I never was one to rush, and besides, I start going cross-eyed at a certain point from having my nose buried in a book. So, with no one to hang out with, I of course was able to spend some time in contemplation of my whirlwind week.

After a wild phone sex episode, My Favorite has gone back to avoiding me (surprise, surprise). I got very stern warning after texting him during the "So You Think You Can Dance" results show that he "shouldn't be getting texts from another woman, ya know". Actually, no, I don't know. My text to him was about the dancers on the show and NOTHING else. I don't see the problem here, but obviously in his eyes there is one. As always, he thinks we're not allowed to be friends. It really took me years to understand why he is like this, but I made my peace with it the last time around. My Favorite simply won't let me be friends with him. Inasmuch as I was totally gaga over this boy when I was 21, at 29, I'm a totally different person and though I look back fondly, I have moved so far beyond all that happened between us. But I am one of these crazy girls who likes to keep all her exes as friends. This is something like the 17th time I've tried to reach out to My Favorite as a friend and it's the 17th time he's pushed me away. This time is only different because I think I finally figured out why he does this. I mentioned in my earlier post that I never realized before how deeply I had impacted this boy. Well, clearly I've so deeply impacted him that he masturbates to the thought of me yet cannot be friends with at the same time. I'm no longer a person in his eyes, merely a fantasy and a memory that I know now will haunt him until his dying day. There was so much he could have done in the past 8 years to change that, yet he didn't and he pushed me away every time. Now he has his fresh start with a blank slate. And I can do nothing but pity the man.

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totally unrelated

This has absolutely nothing to do with my single life, but I couldn't resist. Please allow me to share with you my YouTube find of the day - a glimpse of my favorite female dancer, Natalie Fotopoulos. The clip is partly in Greek, but she's just plain amazing in any language!

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"We've all got our junk, and my junk is you" -Spring Awakening

Oh, the bittersweet taste of what was and what could have been...

This week is the week of rekindling my two of my oldest and dearest old flames. The first of these flames isn't a person. The first is my first and only true love in life - the theatre. My love-hate relationship with the theatre began the first time I donned a big yellow tulle tutu when I was 3 and danced to Donald Duck onstage. I've never been able to replicate the feeling I get when I am onstage. There doesn't even need to be anyone watching, the theatre can be completely empty. Just me and stage is all I need to feel as though I've finally come home. Back in my performing days, I used to have a ritual - before every performance, I would lie center stage by myself and listen to my theme song, "Joyful Girl" by Ani DiFranco, blasting in my ears. It was the only time I ever felt absolutely completely at peace with myself. This past weekend, I saw "Spring Awakening" on Broadway. And during the opening number, I literally wanted to cry. I wanted to cry out of sheer jealousy that I was not up on that stage singing my heart out. The power of musical theatre has always awed me and inspired me. So why on earth did I walk away from a life in the theatre if it's obviously such a big part of me? Well, I'd gotten to a point where all the bullshit all that joy came wrapped in was sucking the life out of me and I couldn't bear to see that happen. I walked away before it became ruined forever. It doesn't mean I don't miss it madly and it doesn't mean it is no longer a part of my soul. I'm merely on sabbatical. And I will be back. Someday, I will be back and it will be on MY terms this time.

This brings me to the second past relationship. I've been thinking about My Favorite all day today, wondering why. Why didn't it all work out the first 10 times? My answer to this is that I was too young, too proud, too self-righteous, too insecure, too scared, too stupid and too blind to let that relationship be all that it could have been. What I learned today has resurrected something I thought was dead and buried years ago and made me see it in a new light. I've always in some way reveled in playing the victim in what happened between the two of us. I mean, on some level, I knew damn well it wasn't all his fault or mine, but I think deep down, I harbored all this resentment for feeling used. It wasn't until today that I realized I'm not the only one who was deeply affected by the other. I guess it was all reciprocal - we hurt each other and we still linger on each other. Strangely, I find something about this comforting. Maybe because it's the first time I realize that I really did get under his skin and that I'm not the only who is haunted by the memories. 7 years too late, I finally understand that whatever there was between us was real and palpable and powerful in its magnetism, yet we were never in a position to appreciate or exploit that. Maybe I always should have known and was just too self-absorbed and self-pitying to see it. But now I finally know, and I'm sorry I squandered it but I'm not sorry it happened. I know why I needed to have him in my life. And I am grateful for the way he touched me in every way - both good and bad.

I wish I'd had the lyrics below (from "Spring Awakening" - the underlying theme of this post) at the time. They sum up all of the above ramblings in 4 short sentences.

"Oh, I'm gonna be wounded. Oh, I'm gonna be your wound. Oh, I'm gonna bruise you. Oh, you're gonna be my bruise."

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Taking a very long dip in the ex pool

"Marriage is just like dating, except you're not looking for something better to come along."
- one of Janet's former flames who is currently married

So, I've got an IM chat window open right now with aforementioned former flame and he's driving me absolutely, positively up the wall right now into fits of sexual frustration.

It has taken me a full 20 minutes to come up with an alias for this guy, because nothing seems to fit right. I've finally settled on "My Favorite", because that's what he is - my favorite of all my former flames.

So My Favorite is reminding me about all our uber-hot previous encounters involving stairwells, hot tubs, boss's jacuzzi tubs... Yes, it was really like that. We couldn't wait to rip each others' clothes off and go at it anywhere and everywhere. It burned hotter than hell, so obviously it couldn't last. Sometimes, I look back on the whole thing with a sense of fondness. Other times, I look back on the whole thing and regret it all so much it hurts. And at other times still, I just look back on the whole thing and get horny. Right now, we're experiencing a little bit of the first, none of the second, and a whole lot of the third.

Nowadays My Favorite is married to someone who isn't me. And I am a horrible flirt. And he flirts back like a man who's been in the desert for 50 days with no water and I'm the oasis. And that in and of itself is horrifically, painfully seductive. But I have ethics, and phone sex with married men, even if they did give me the one of the top 2 orgasms of my life, really shouldn't fall within the bounds of what I should consider "ethical" behavior. And yet, I crave it. I crave this attention. I crave that feeling I used to get when he touched me - like I'm actually ALIVE and not an MBA machine. I crave a real man who wants to devour me!

Aw, fuck the moral dilemma. I'm a sinner. Always have been. End of story. ;)

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Friday the 13th is a great day for a birthday

Friday the 13th is my lucky day! Yes folks, today is the day I turn one year older and one year wiser. Time to celebrate with unlimited cake and hugs!

Now, some food for your brains - below are some short lists of notable events that have occurred on July 13 throughout history.

Cool People Also Born on July 13

• Julius Caesar (and we have the same initials!)
  
• Harrison Ford
• Patrick Stewart
• Cheech Marin
• Cameron Crowe
• Didi Conn (the original Frenchie in the seminal classic, "Grease")
• Deborah Cox
  

Important Historical Events That Occurred on July 13

• July 13, 1793 - Jean Paul Marat is stabbed to death in his bathtub by Charlotte Corday
  
• July 13, 1837 - Queen Victoria becomes the 1st British monarch to live in Buckingham Palace
  
• July 13, 1908 - the first women were allowed to compete in the modern Olympic games
• July 13, 1923 - the Hollywood sign is officially dedicated
• July 13, 1977 - the great NYC blackout occurs
• July 13, 1985 - Live Aid concert takes place
  
• July 13, 1985 - the Presidential disability clause is invoked for the first time while Ronald Reagan undergoes colon surgery, leaving Vice President George Bush as Acting President for approximately 8 hours

Janet's Monumental Birthdays

• July 13, 1979 - Janet turns 1 and becomes hooked on birthday cake after her first bite
• July 13, 1998 - Janet turns 20 while in London. She sends herself to Paris for the weekend and France wins the World Cup. Janet becomes convinced she is a lucky charm for the French people. Amazingly enough, Janet is also still a virgin.
• July 13, 1999 - Janet uneventfully turns 21
• July 13, 2003 - Janet turns 25 and is able to rent cars. She also wins herself a free birthday party at Planet Rose where the bartender makes her a series of shots in all the colors of the rainbow which of course, later makes poor Janet puke. But amazingly, she wakes up the next morning sans hangover.
• July 13, 2005 - Janet turns 27 and throws the adult pool party of the decade that everyone was still talking about over a year after it happened. Janet also *finally* manages to get laid for her birthday (though strangely not with whom she had planned).
• July 13, 2008 - Janet will turn 30 and throw the roast to end all roasts. So start thinking about what you're going to say!
  

sources: Wikipedia, NY Times, Answers.com

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I know I may not be perfect...

...but I do own up to the words that come out of my mouth and know how to admit when I'm wrong.

Today, I acted like an obnoxious brat. It was 90% on purpose. Here's what went down.

There is nothing in the world I hate more than when someone lies to my face, when they know damn well I know that they're lying to me. As I've you should have gathered from my previous posts, "Asshole" has not been on my good side. Today at lunch with a bunch of interns, "Asshole" somehow got started talking politics. All bad news right there. Anyway, I don't remember what prompted it, but I pointed out his self-proclaimed "great idea" to have all gay people be forced to move to Cuba. I mention this outlandish idea to everyone and he then goes and DENIES ever having said anything like that. I was about the laugh the whole thing off, but that just stopped me in my tracks. Don't EVER lie to my face. If you you can't at least admit to having said the things you've said, then you shouldn't be saying them. Period. This pisses me off enough to keep drilling the point until the jerk fesses up or at least laughs it off, but instead he goes all cry baby and says to me "if you don't stop, I'm taking it to HR." Whoa, seems I hit a nerve. Well, alrighty then, seeing as how I've clearly gotten to him, I stopped. Later in the car, I point out he's obviously quite pissed at me and he calls me loud and unprofessional and claims I am a bad representative of my school, thereby taking it a whole new level of cry baby. Amazingly, I am a fool and I send him an instant message apologizing for being a cranky bitch (which I truly was, over stuff that had nothing to do with him today) and even offered to soothe his ego by sending an email to everyone who was there apologizing for being so loud and obnoxious but this was not enough for him. Apparently, in his mind, I have committed an egregious sin against the Lord Almighty or something.

Now, as I said in my intro to this story, I own my words and know how to admit my wrongdoings. I was wrong in being an obnoxious loud talker. I was wrong in twisting the knife. But I was NOT wrong in being furious at a lying son of a bitch.

To summarize the above: don't say anything or express opinions you don't ever want repeated to others. And don't piss off Janet. I don't have anything to hide so if you do, then maybe you need to stay away from me.

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The Great Ego Band-Aid

Just when I was whining about being so brutally rejected by my supposed summer fuck buddy, a blast from the past swooped in to repair the damage to my fragile ego. Yep, one of the cancerous former flames has yet again resurfaced - with blatant offers of sensual delights. At least someone, somewhere still finds me desirable.

Often I am amused and annoyed by the way people seem to continually pop up in my life when I think they are gone for good, but this time, I am actually grateful.

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Lucky 7's?

After posting my last angry post, I decided to check the headlines and came across a story that today is Saturday, July 7, 2007 or 07/07/07. According to the article I read, 07/07/07 is supposed to be a very lucky day. Well, let's all hope it is a lucky day for everyone!

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Too impatient to wait for strike 3...

It is past 1am. I am up and I am angry. Last week, you will recall I fired off a quick rant about being denied mid-straddle whilst topless. Well, that was strike 1 on this guy's part. Tonight, was strike 2. Here's the story.

Doing my internship in the middle of nowhere Virginia when all my friends are in NY or LA or the Bay Area makes for a very lonely summer. Several weeks ago, to help take the sting out of being trapped in bumblefuck, I agreed to an arrangement for a summer fuck buddy with someone in the same boat as I. Those of you near and dear to me are keenly aware that such "arrangements" never bode well for me. Well, while not tragic, this particular "arrangement" has managed to leave me me both sorely disappointed and horny.

"Asshole" as this guy will heretofore be referred to as, started off talking big. Bad sign, I know. But I had no expectations going into this save for one - that I would have the right for the next 8 weeks to fuck to my heart's content, no strings attached, no questions asked. Sounds perfect for poor sex-starved Janet, right? Yeah, it WOULD have been perfect IF ONLY ASSHOLE COULD GET IT UP!!!!

I'm dead serious here. We're 3 weeks into this game and I've only had sex ONCE. How insane is that????? I've only since that night specifically asked for it TWICE and I was denied with a LAME excuse both times. The first time, I got dissed for TELEVISION of all mother-fucking things, and this time, I was denied on account of him being "too tired". EXCUSE ME? You're kidding right? You're the one who came out of the gates running at full speed ahead begging me for phone sex and whatnot and now you don't even want to touch me and my tits are hanging out in front of you????? Where the hell did all your sex drive go? You're a fucking MAN for crying out loud, how on earth can you NOT want sex? It's been 3 weeks, you guys usually can't last 3 hours without wanting more!!!! Look, I realize I am no Heidi Klum or whomever, but I honestly don't believe I'm that hideous (in looks or personality) as to be rendered totally unfuckable. Seriously, why am I always stuck with these retarded guys?????

Whatever, I'm done. I'm done driving all the way to Arlington to not get laid. I'm done buying you lunch and chauffeurring you around in the process. I'm done taking verbal abuse solely for your amusement. Most of all, I'm done with your lame ass.

Applications for SUMMER FUCK BUDDY now being accepted. Immediate opening. Part-time with amazing benefits. Inquire within.

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Fireworks

I do hope y'all had a happy 4th. I had a lovely time eating incessantly, getting blitzed and trying to stay dry in our nation's capital.

I wanted to take a quick moment to reflect on holidays in general. I love me a good holiday, don't get me wrong, but as I get older, I'm starting to view holidays more as a punishment than a reward. It's not just the obvious biggies like Valentine's Day, New Year's Eve and Christmas, but also the seemingly benign holidays like 4th of July, Presidents' Day and Good Friday. Holidays have an extra special way of painfully reminding us single gals that we are the "underprivileged". No matter how happy you are with your single gal status, when you're surrounded by lovey-dovey couples kissing under fireworks, you can't help but feel a bit like the loser with the camera who's left out in the cold. Hey, I may be single, but I like being kissed too! And I haven't had a decent kiss in years (That's not my usual hyperbole there, I truly mean years. Like the last heart-stopping-omigod-please-don't-ever-let-this-stop-I-could-just-do-
this-forever-fuck-the-rest-of-the-world kiss was back in college. In a hot tub. It was quite shameless, really. But also incredibly sexy. And obviously, quite memorable.).

Oh well, I did take some nice pics at least. Here's a few for your viewing pleasure.

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