I realize I'm fucking all over the place about wanting to date again. I also realized after the emotional shake up of grandma going into the hospital and all the goblins of loss from my past that the experience brought rushing back to me, really weren't that out of line, nor did they imply, as I feared then, that I am still horribly broken from the losses I've experienced in the last couple of years. How in the fuck is it arleady approaching 2 years from the November Habibi confided he needed to end our relationship? That floors me. In some ways it still all seems so current, and relavent, and in other ways something I've survived and am now moving past.

I'm having a huge, old fashioned crush on a local man, my age, dashingly handsome, dark hair, green eyes, an early favorite model of ideal beauty. Yeah so typically I date guys I'm not physically attracted to. Issues of self confidance I suppose. If they are not over the top cute, then somehow they are closer to being in my league, might stay with me longer, not straying away for the other much cuter competion. So, yeah, I find this guy first and foremost visually stunning. Plus the conversation is enjoyable, I havn't thought to myself that he's lacking in the intelligence department (I know, so horrible for me to judge, but intelligence is hot to me. Especially intelligent people who don't pretend to know it all, for purposes of showing off or fear of looking weak.) So yeah, our conversations have been fun. Easy going, comfortable and reassuring. So when he wanted me to meet him and some of his friends last night I turned him down. I fuckin' froze. The idea of him, surrounded by his friends making me WAY uncomfortable. Me against the whole fucking family, not even having the partial ally of him, yet. I came up with some gobbedly gook about my friend Bothhandz coming over. Which, she did, odd how those things sometimes work themselves out.

Bothhandz and I went to Flying star and I had a slice of Strawberry Rhubarb Pie ala mode. My rut menu item there. Anyways, Bothhandz and I just yammered away for what seemed a couple of hours, maybe it was. I tend to be a quiet person, but I get around old friends that I'm completely confidant in and you can't shut me the fuck up. I'm sure I sound like some cackling hen. We were laughing our asses off and going on and on about the current issues of our life. Me yammering about how I litterally feel drunk with the twitterpation this man is bringing out in me. Her the frustrating, but still supremely amusing stories about the freek she works with. Ok, freek is a strong term. She's not a freek. but well she's a huge thorn in Bothhandz posterior.

This ESL class is kicking my ass. Not grade wise, I'm passing with flying colors, just moral wise. Talk about an energy sapper. 4 hours of boredom to start my day with.