Here's Grease in Your Eye

I may have spoken too soon about getting Troy to focus on his business. He's currently pursuing an office job with the company, which would have him based about 2 miles the other side of my house, and about 20 from his. It would also be a work-your-way-up kind of deal, so he'd probably still have to go back to roustabouting it for a few hitches before moving up to a higher position. I can't see how being a roughneck is any better but, hey...whatever. Sometimes I think my life would be better with him gone, if I could just restrain myself from calling and sending him texts. Of course, now that's irrelevant, because they moved his rig out into the Gulf now, so none of that wireless shit would work, anyway. It's selfish, but I'm hoping he'll end up resigning from the rig - which he's done - and won't get hired for the corporate position. I know he'd be good at it, but I have so much more respect for him when he's working on his own business and developing strategies and making it work.

In an attempt to show him that I care about him too, I've delved more and more into the cooking thing. This is NOT me. I don't know what the fuck he's done to me, but it's weird. I WANT to cook for him and I usually make a big production out of it. It makes me happy to conduct experiments and see if they turn out, and I like to hear good things about it from him. I grilled salmon two different ways, twice, and it turned out better than anything we'd ever had - even his.

Well, tonight I hit a serious winner. I cooked chicken Parmesan. And it was amazing. I couldn't believe it! The downside, of course, was that I still really couldn't tell you what I'm doing. I put the garlic and the basil into the heated olive oil - just like the directions said - and it popped and spit all over the place. In fact, a splatter of hot oil flew directly into my right eye. It was really bad for a little while but, by the time dinner was ready, it seemed to have quit being quite so painful. Now it's just tender. It's sensitive to light but I'm hoping after a good night's rest (like i'll get one of those anytime before school's out...), it will feel better.

Really, there's nothing much else to say. I got my fifth replacement LG phone a couple of days ago and it's been working flawlessly, amazingly enough. For now. Give it two more weeks.

I've been watching my caloric intake like crazy. I actually started running on my treadmill. I'm on a 1200 - 1500 calorie/day diet and I managed to run 1/75 miles today. I feel thinner already.

Almost Speechless

I know I haven't been around. It seems like only one person has noticed, anyway. The only thing I can say is that I have about 15 drafts written, none of which I published. This has been such a miserable, tumultuous time in my life; I can't really put into words everything that sucks so badly right now.

I am currently pursuing a complaint with our local police department due to ongoing road rage incidents with a sergeant that works up the street from my job. We are, unfortunately, driving to work at the same time almost daily. He's been aggressive with his vehicle, words, and gestures and I'm not the only one - but I AM the only one willing to come forward. So that sucks, because I'm pretty sure nothing's going to change.

Things are fine with Troy. He quit his rig job and has been taking my advice about growing his business. He's finally letting me help and I think that, with some gentle prodding, we can get it into the thriving company it deserves to be.

We aren't going to be able to race this huge race over Easter weekend as we'd planned. There are many reasons - none of which are good. But that's how it is, I guess, and we'll just have to set our sights on moving forward and getting on with the next one.

I'm looking for a new house because I'm about to be foreclosed on. My grandfather is willing to step up and buy a house for me, which is the most generous and undeserved thing that could happen to me. After years of fighting with Wells Fargo and NationStar, jumping through all of their hoops, it looks like they finally won. They offered me a final modification offer, so I got it all signed, notarized, and sent back to them by the due date, and now they're trying to say they can't accept it because of THEIR internal error with an "audit" and "tracking." No attorney will help and I just don't know what to do. The whole thing is just too much to take. Because of my family situation, I have to move out of here before trying to short-sell the house. Long story best untold.

Work is still a pain in my ass. They've come off me a bit, but they're still trying to make my life a living hell and make it uncomfortable enough for me to not want to come back. Trust me - I don't WANT to go back - but I can't seem to find any leads for anything else. So, as long as I'm extended a contract again, which, by the looks of state law they'll have to, I'll be back in the same situation next year.

I actually need to go even now. I'm planning a car show with my car club and we have an organizational meeting halfway across town. At rush hour. Nice, huh?

I'll be back. I promise.

White Flag

I very clearly can't stick to the 30 Days of Truth. I wanted to. I lack the motivation or the narcissism or the adherence to the topics presented as opposed to topics I choose. I don't know. I suck.

But fear not. I'm here to suck about something else. I give up. I give up on trying to get Troy to talk to me about us, about anything of depth, and of his company. I give up trying to be open and direct, telling him exactly what it is I need from him so there is no misinterpretation or expectations of mind-reading. I give up being available for him all the time when he can't do the same for me (i don't care if it's a job constraint or not - it's still a valid reason). I give up being so emotionally attached to a man who says "thank you" when I say "I love you."

Dude, if you don't know after 10 months whether or not you love me, the answer is "you don't." And, also, Dude, if you do love me and your foolish pride is preventing you from saying it, then you get the same 'fuck you' for being a goddamned idiot. If I haven't proven to you already that I'm not going to hurt you, cheat on you, leave you, or lie to you and that's what's keeping you from saying it, then I'm done wasting my time when you so clearly have trust issues that my undying devotion hasn't managed to break down.

If you can't or won't do little things to make me feel appreciated - like I've talked to you about more than once - then it's only because you don't want to, not because you've "forgotten" or it's just "not in your nature." No. Fuck that. Men remember what women need if they care enough to remember it. There are no flowers, there are no unprompted texts, there are no emails.

Yes, honey, I am well aware of all the things you do for me that no other man has or would do. And I've shown excessive appreciation for those things, up to and including sexual favors of your choice. Oh, by the way, what I said last time...it still stands: no more sucky-sucky because you have not and won't do the same for me.

The hardest part of this is that I love you more than I know how to express. Except for your refusal to open up and make me feel appreciated and your lack of freakiness in the bedroom, you're everything I've ever wanted. Leaving you will be the hardest thing I've ever done and, trust me, I don't want to have to do it.

(God help me for this...) Ke$ha said it best when she said, "We are who we are." You're not going to spontaneously become emotive just because it's what I need from you, and I'm not just going to magically become happy with our relationship all the time when you don't give me what I need.

I try to be everything you need from me. I don't see the same. Because of that, I'm throwing up my white flag. I give up. I'm done. I surrender. This has been a long, involved battle that I can never win. So, I'm finished.

Now...when do I tell YOU that?