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I keep obsessively listening to Twenty One Pilots’ song Stressed Out (see video in a post below).  It’s just so fucking fantastic.

Work is super crazy right now.  One of our people quit last week and left quite a mess.  Not to mention it seems like close to $200 is missing from various accounts they were in charge of.  My co-worker and I are in charge of their accounts until we get a new person in, and it’s amazing how much of a mess they became in such a short time.  Now, being busy is better than not having enough to do (which is my typical), but too much isn’t fun…

Also, periods. Ugh.

Normally, I don’t ever want to talk specifics about someone I’m currently going on dates with.  But I’m trying to figure something out.  Okay, my dating goal, as stated previously (I think), is to more or less go with the flow, to take things as they come, to not have goals.  So…  I’m going on some dates with this women who is pretty awesome.  And she texts me to tell me that she still wants to go on dates and spend time with me, but she is also trying to do the whole “dating” thing, so is still trying to meet other people.  And I said that sounds great, that I’m doing the same. [This, for the record, is true.]

So here is what I’m trying to figure out.  I have no fucking idea how to casually date.  Yeah, I want to see her, to go on dates, to mess around.  But I’m still an introvert and have limited resources to hand out.  So, yeah, I also want to keep meeting people (duh, so many women!).  And then I’m conflicted because I have liked her better than anyone else thus far (that can always change, though).  Not that it matters because she wants to do the casual dating thing, too?

I will not end up like Rory Gilmore, who tried to date Tristan while he dated many women, but couldn’t, then somehow by accident got him to agree to date only her.  I mean, yes, if that worked for me, I’d do it. But I mean, not on purpose.  So, what I mean is, I don’t want to be Rory, who thought she could do casual dating, but just couldn’t.  Unless that’s simply the case.

So many feels!


So far, my dating strategy has been to go out with every woman who asks–because women! I also want to give people a chance, even if I don’t think they’re my type or whatnot.  And obviously, I ask women out, too, especially if I’m actually interested in meeting them.  But I can see how this first strategy may backfire a little.

For example, this weekend, I went for coffee with a woman I knew I wasn’t interested in, but she grew up in Calgary, and I’d gone to undergrad around that area.  So I thought it would be interesting to talk about Canada some.  But there was no chemistry, and I was bored and counting minutes until I could leave without being too rude.

Then she texted me after the date to say she had a good time.  I didn’t know what to say in response, so I didn’t answer for 8 hours, but when I finally did, I felt so guilty that I texted that I’d had a good time and included a smiley face.  (That, according to friends, was the failing point. Lesson: Don’t include cutesy emoticons if you’re not interested.)  Anyway, despite a lack of response on my part (like, ignoring her texts), I still got asked out again.  (Kudos to her for bravery?) Which meant I had to say I’m not interested in going out.

Ugh.  I’m not saying a first date has to set my heart on fire (although that’s nice if it happens), but there has to be a basic spark, right?

I’m really into this song lately.

Last night I went to the best comedy show ever.  Okay, I can’t say that definitively, as it was the only comedy show I’ve ever been to.  It was Cameron Esposito and Rhea Butcher (Rhea opened for Cameron), and the audience was full of lesbians.  And when I say lesbians, I mean oh my god, there were so many beautiful women everywhere–it was fucking amazing.

Now, besides the obvious eye candy, the comedy was hysterical. I literally laughed all night–my cheeks hurt from laughing.  When I went to meet the ladies after the show, though, I was too star struck to say anything other than “can I pay with cash?” when purchasing Cameron’s cd. Ugh. Oh, I think I did manage a “the show was great,” before awkwardly shuffling away.

Then I dreampt about Rhea all night long–no joke.  I’m blaming one of Cameron’s bits on this because it followed that line pretty closely, with some fun twists.

However, there was one other thing from the show that surprised me, although it probably shouldn’t have, as it’s happened before.  I went by myself, because I’m an independent woman (and none of my friends were interested).  But I think I might have been the only one–or so it seemed. I swear to you, everyone was there with someone or a group.  That wasn’t a problem, none of this was a problem.  (Also, I met a few new folk ahead of time for drinks, then I totally talked with my seat-neighbors, as I am wont to do.)

But it keenly remind me of what I’m missing out on by being single (not that I am trying to be single–as you know, I am actively dating).  Seeing lesbian couples together makes me yearn to be part of my own lesbian couple.  It’s this visceral thing, nothing I ever felt when seeing heterosexual couples or when I used to think I was straight and that “ah, a relationship might not be so terrible.”  No, it’s much stronger and deeper than that, and I don’t really know how to adequately explain it.  But I know I want it.  Not enough to jump into a bad relationship, because I am still me, after all.

I am not doing my feelings justice here.  I am not explaining myself in a way that satisfies me.  I am just trying to get the words out, to feel them, to mull them in my mind, to chew them into something recognizable.

Oh my god, I might be addicted to my new jeans.  I just want more and more and more.  Thankfully, my budget doesn’t allow for excess spending like that. But the temptation is real.

My grandma is in town this weekend.  She’s coming tomorrow to visit me.  Then I’m going to a comedy show in the evening.  Obviously this will all be great fun, but I can’t help but wonder when I’ll get my laundry done.  I’m going into Seattle for at least the first part of Sunday, so…  Having a social life is weird.

Erm, last weekend, I got a new-to-me car.  I know I’m supposed to be a self-sufficient adult.  And for the most part, I am.  But my car had a check engine light, and despite attempting for several months, I couldn’t save up any money to get it fixed.  So I asked the parents to help out.  After finding out what was wrong, they decided they wanted to just buy me a car.  Now, if your parents offer to buy you a car, the only reasonable answer is “Yes, thank you.”  It’s a 2013 Ford Focus, in Racer Red.  It’s super cute, and way nicer than any car I’ve ever had.  I’m lucky to have parents who are so generous.

And now, I should get ready to go to work.  It’s Friday, which means it’s a great day.

You guys… I bought another pair of skinny jeans (same cut as the others, but in black).  What is happening to me?!

And I also found the door to the exercise room, so with any luck I’ll be using it on the regular.

Now, for all the really important stuff.

I totally sent this completely humiliating facebook message to a woman I went to high school with.  I’m fairly certain we weren’t friends (I say it like that because my memory is quite foggy of those awful years), and I have a feeling she probably didn’t know who I am or won’t remember me (she was a cool kid; I was a nerd).  But she was cute then, I just looked her up last night, and she’s super hot now.  Like, oh my god.  So, I may or may not have had a few glasses of wine yesterday and while the effects were mostly gone but lingering, I sent this woman a message basically saying all that.  I don’t even know if she’s gay or single or anything.  Last night it seemed brilliant.  This morning, not quite as much.

Regardless, I love every aspect of being out.  I love being allowed to check out women, to flirt with them.  I love feeling like the world of dating is open and wonderful.  I love that I’m feeling things I didn’t know you could feel.  It’s the things you heard you should have felt when you first went through adolescence, but I never did–I blamed it on being a late bloomer.  And you know, 20 years later, I’m finally catching up.  (ha.ha.)

Of course, my family is still in denial.  Hanging out with them is hard, not because they are being terrible, but because there is an unspoken rule to not bring it up, and right now, my life is largely dominated by my exploration of the queer world.  So I don’t know what to say to them or to tell them.  I don’t want to shove it in their faces, to make them come to terms with it on my terms.  But I do worry about how it will go when I finally bring a girlfriend over for them to meet.  I actually dread that moment. (Not that I will let that worry ruin my fun now!)

I’m allowing myself to be fully comfortable in my own skin.  I’m learning what that looks like for me.  Even clothing choices–I’m slowly seeking out clothes that only make me feel kick-ass, and getting rid of the ones that just don’t.  I’m experimenting with new styles (skinny jeans? boots?) and figuring out if they’re for me.  It’s empowering.

I’m going on dates and enjoying them. (I can hardly get over how wonderful that is.)  I’m meeting new friends.  I’m finding a place to belong.

It’s great.

This last weekend, I bought my first pair of skinny jeans.  Well, okay, technically, they’re “slim straight” jeans.  But they fit like skinny jeans (in my opinion) until the calves/ankles, where they have a breath of room.  They’re also a really nice, dark wash.  And they don’t make me feel like I’m wearing leggings, which is essential.   My friend said they looked fantastic, so I am going to believe her. (She also said that we’re too old to wear jeans that look like leggings, for which I am eternally thankful.)

I also purchased my first pair of leather boots.  Granted, I bought them online after trying them on in the store so I could use a 20% off coupon code.  So I don’t actually have the boots in my possession yet.  But I think they’re incredibly adorable.  I feel as though they’re casual enough to wear under bootcut jeans or over my one pair of skinny jeans, but nice enough to wear with a skirt or with my sweater dress and leggings.  Now, of course, this could just be my belief that footwear is much more versatile than it may be in reality.  However, I don’t care.

Now, on another topic entirely, my goal this week is to figure out where the door to the exercise room is at my apartment complex.  I’ve really got to start working out, and I think the elliptical or the treadmill will be just the ticket.