There’s got to be some kind of Cosmic Break-up Energy that zips out into the universe when a woman ends a relationship, I swear. In the 5 days since I broke up with Dalemar, I’ve had no less than 4 guys – who I haven’t heard from for anywhere from a week or so, to a couple of years – get in touch with me out of the blue. And two of them were within 3 hours of me getting home from the actual break-up!

Admittedly, only one of those guys flat-out propositioned me…but the other three have made it moderately clear that if I were to consider getting naked in their presence, they wouldn’t hesitate to follow their natural inclinations.

So, the results of this influx of attention…there’s at least one visit-for-catching-up date on the agenda with an old pal & SCA lover who I haven’t seen in a couple years, another get-together-and-chat date with another dear old friend & former lover who I haven’t talked to in several months (just from us both being busy), and an invitation from an online friend for a fun weekend away that I haven’t decided about yet. Oh, and that propositioning I mentioned, too.

I just haven’t figured out yet how interested I am in enjoying the various delightful distractions offered me…

Much of the evening tonight I spent re-reading personal journals, covering the last 6 months or so, and doing a lot of thinking. I’ve heard a couple of people in recent days state that I’ve let anxiety get to me too much, negatively so. But what I read of my own private, personal thoughts for the last several months doesn’t sound anxiety-stricken to me.

It sounds pissed. Quite often because people weren’t listening to me, and/or were dismissing me.

I was checking out the nifty feature on imood.com where you can look at a chart of how often you’ve selected each emotion over the entire time you’ve had your imood account. Each emotion is listed, and if you click on it, it gives you the dates you chose that particular emotion & whatever extra comments you made at the time.

My chart sure is interesting.

I’ve had my imood account about 2 years now, and there are 127 different emotions listed. Of those, I’ve only chosen 25 emotions more than twice. And the most common ones I’ve used to describe my mood?

Exhausted – 9
Annoyed – 8
Cranky – 7
Curious – 5
Pissed – 5
Somber – 5
Blah – 4
Drained – 4
Fine – 4
Frustrated – 4
Irked – 4
Mixed – 4
Pensive – 4
Vexed – 4

Gee, I’m seeing a trend here.

And how often have I chosen “anxious” to describe my mood? Three whole times, and once was anxiety over my last job interview (which I aced, so it obviously didn’t affect me negatively). I haven’t picked the term “anxious” to describe my frame of mind at imood since last Nov. 9th, actually.

Wow, that’s really not much in the way of anxiety. It looks like mostly I’ve been various flavors of angry: annoyed, cranky, pissed, frustrated, irked, vexed.

Today’s the first time I’ve chosen the adjective “burned” since I started the imood account. Maybe I should change it to “enlightened.”

This is the only kind of RPG that I think I could honestly succeed at. I don’t know why, but I’ve never been into RPG’s (aside from a recreational interest in the SCA, which has been losing its appeal for the last few years, and an addiction to Civ which I haven’t indulged in for months now). But I know how to do literally nothing!

Speaking of RPG, that would be an acronym. I had dinner tonight with Geoffrey, Karel, and the youngest demonspawn. Karel is big on acronyms, and there were a couple of interesting ones altered from their usual meanings. I think my favorite was Karel describing me as a WMD – Woman of Mass Distraction. That’s even better than being called a MILF.

Stuff magazine. It’s for guys, right? Eh, sort of. It’s Playboy lite, right? Not exactly. What it is is damned amusing. Especially the regular column where they tape-record women secretly having conversations in a public bathroom. The hilarious & horrible truth is that girls are far naughtier in conversation than guys. Like this conversation (my commentary in italics):

Girl 1: Just because it’s our third date doesn’t mean I should fuck him. If I fucked every guy by the third date, I’d be a total whore. (Uhm, no…not unless you’re getting paid, ya idiot, since that’s what defines being a whore.)

Girl 2: Eh, third date, fifth date, next month. (This is the Number of Dates rule, that you have to wait 3 or 5 dates or a month before having sex. Whatever.)

Girl 1: Yeah, well, Darren fucked some girl on the first date, then took her out again, did it again, and now she’s like “Fatal Attraction.” (Darren obviously has problems in choosing chewtoys.)

Girl 2: He shouldn’t have taken her out again if all he wanted was a good lay. He broke the first-date-fuck rule. (I’ve broken that rule plenty, and it never…oh, wait a minute…hmm. I guess I might want to re-think that whole thing.)

Girl 1: That’s why I want to wait. If all I wanted was some action, I’d hook up with that bartender. So hot! (Which is why it’s common knowledge that bartenders are the dirtiest game in town. The first rule of casual sex is Never The Bartender!)

Girl 2: Don’t wait too long or he’ll think you’re not interested. At least go down on him. (Stupid advice. As if oral sex doesn’t count as sex. Whatever.)

Girl 1: Are you sure you’re not a guy? (That is so fucking hilarious! I’ve been asked that…)

You know what they say – when the going gets tough, the tough go shopping!

Angst and I went to the Fortress of Chaos & Evil (AKA the mall) today. First, a truly necessary stop in at Victoria’s Secret, where they were having a panty sale. Oh gods yes! I got a couple of terrific standard thong panties, and then swooped down upon the low-rise thong display, and snapped up three – since I’ve been wanting a few more of those since I scored my first pair from Underglam and found the style is wickedly comfy! I was incredibly tempted to get a pair of the lace tangas, but at $18 a pop? No way. If I’m going to spend $18 on a pair of undies, they’d better be either made of Italian silk or do more to my naughty bits than just cover them!

Then it was off to Hot Topic, where I actually didn’t buy anything for myself. I found a couple of presents for other people, and Angst got a new shirt (featuring a picture of a sweet girl & the caption “Seemingly Innocent”). On to Hot Topic’s sister-store, Torrid, where I found a Happy Bunny shirt for Molly that says, “I’ve been naughty. So what.” and purple Happy Bunny socks for me that say “Boys lie and kind of stink.”

Then we went to the One-Stop Shopping Center to get groceries (including the completely evil Dreyers Girl Scout cookie ice cream – Samoa flavor!) and a few more necessities in the clothing department. Angst finally located white wife-beater undershirts in her size (in the boys section, of course) after we searched the entire freaking clothing section, and I snapped up 12 pairs of the ankle socks that I prefer to wear, mostly in black. I wouldn’t have been so excessive, but they were On Sale! Yay!

We may have to run back to Freddy’s for bras in the near future, though. I didn’t see anything at Victoria’s Secret that I couldn’t live without (do you know they don’t have anything in true purple, only lavender?) and I definitely need a few new ones.

It’s not that shopping makes anything really better…but it keeps you busy and wears you out in a far more useful & appealing way than sniffly weeping.

I was blessed to be present at the birth of my darling goddaughter, Rissa. Like many children of parents who are no longer together, she spends every other weekend with her dad (my ex & dear friend Robert), and lives with her mom & mom’s boyfriend the rest of the time. Since the gentleman is a professional musician, Rissa got to have her very first music single cut at the tender age of 3. It’s pretty avant-garde stuff, I must say. But hey, she’s only 3 and she wrote her own lyrics. I’m thinking a few voice lessons, and she’ll out-do Britney or Christina in no time.

Alright, I admit it’s not completely different – since it’s still lots of purple. But I found a new template for my journal that I love so much, I got rid of all the other templates I had except for the one I call purple girl. I still have a soft spot in my heart for that one, and it’s pretty reflective of certain moods, so I kept it.

As I wrote in my journal, I’m bereft right now. It’s been just over 24 hours now and it’s not gotten any easier or less heart-wrenching.

Misery sounds like an appealing step up right about now. Maybe I’ll listen to my Jewel CD…

Don’t walk too close
Don’t breathe so soft
Don’t talk so sweet
Don’t sing
Don’t lay oh so near

Please, don’t let me fall in love with you again

I heard this song on the radio tonight, and damned near bawled my head off…thinking about the fifteen-year-olds I know, who are all precious to me for various reasons. Especially, of course, my own fifteen-year-old…who is the girl I dreamt of being when I was fifteen.

I’m fifteen for a moment.
Caught in between ten and twenty
and I’m just dreaming,
counting the ways to where you are.

Fifteen, there’s still time for you.
Time to buy and time to choose.
Hey, fifteen.
There’s never a wish better than this,
when you only got a hundred years to live.

Five For Fighting

Every man with great legs should definitely wear them often. Every man with good legs should definitely wear them regularly. Every man with okay legs should at least consider owning one. They’re the sexiest damn thing a man can wear from the waist down (although I have a soft spot in my heart for a snug pair of Levi’s 501’s), if he must wear anything at all.

UtiliKilts …Oh. My.

Of course there are the Top 10 Reasons For Wearing A Kilt, and they also have a list of customer-contributed reasons. (My favorite is “because we kilt everyone who called it a skirt!”)

I would love to get Geoffrey this one, since it would go so well with his leather motorcycle jacket, but the price is to die for…