Please God.....

I don't want to be alone anymore. I can't bear it. Please. Send him to me. Please. :(

We. Can't. Be. Friends.

I am really digging this Trey Songz song of late. That and his Heart Attack jam. I dunno if it is because I am identifying with them so much recently but I never paid much attention to Trey and kinda did not want to give him a chance but he is slowly wooing me with these two tracks.

But I feel these two songs because FB is featuring in my life again. I thought it would be different this time. I told him everything, for the most part and he got a full picture of how hurt I was and now that he is away and was dating people, I was determined to really let go this time and I did better than before. I cut him off and did not speak to him or allow myself to give in. But my mistake was contacting him on the anniversary of his dad's death and letting him know I was praying for him. I should have just prayed and left it at that. But it seemed to open up a small window in his mind and slowly he started creeping back into my life. We are not friends on facebook but might as well be at this point.

We are back to talking almost daily. And though I am pretty numb about it and am not really thinking of him the way I used to, I am afraid that this constant talking and familiarity is becoming way to comfortable. I mean before it was me just responding to the occasional email. Now I see myself initiating. Out of habit from talking to him about everything for four years. I am not falling for him again or forgetting necessarily but I am getting comfortable with him again and I do not want to. I don't know that I want us to be friends. Because eventually something is going to happen and I am going to get hurt again.

And the temporary crushes I had were just that. Temporary. Crushes. Nothing came of them and I am still kind of where I was last year. Daydreaming and wishing everything was better when it is the same way it has always been. I have not felt what it feels like to truly be loved and the thought of going on like this makes me heart weary. The reason why young love is so special and so coveted is because you can grow together and they love you at your best. Not when you are getting older and more cynical and less attractive. I think I partially regret not having young love. I was a late bloomer, only beginning to date at 23 years old. And thought I am not technically old yet, I am watching the months just flip on by and no love is in my life. No sweeping romance or passionate love. Is this how real life is supposed to be? Is this the stark reality that contrasts so painfully to the fairy tales we are fed through lyrics and books and movies? Surely the fairy tale love described in those mediums can not be totally made up. It has to exist for someone. It had to have, for them to write about it and make the rest of us want it more than anything. I can appreciate that I am pretty impressionable and I am a romantic at heart. Quite cliche of me, I realize this but surely SOMEONE out there experiences the things I only dream of. It all just seems unfair. Probably because I have not lived life fully yet and can not see much further down this path of my future. But young love is eluding me.

I'm not sure how this shifted into a strange rant about my unfulfilled love quota but the point of this post originally was that I am becoming too lax and too comfortable with FB and I did not want to be here. I even lent him some dosh. What am I doing?

I need a more permanent way to move on. It isn't so much that I am not over him. I think for the most part I am. I still miss him some days but I think it might be more that I miss having someone in my life. My life is happening and no one is sharing it.

Ok, that's getting into things I don't feel like getting into right now.As many other more important things I have to worry about, namely my job and visa situation that is looming before me in the next month, I seem to dwell on thinking of love more. I wish I could get the rest of my life together and THEN worry about love. But I kinda feel like I have always done that and love has suffered or I have just plain missed it. Bleh. My thoughts are a bit scribbled this morning. I have been up all night doing the graveyard shift so I am a bit all over the place.

Don't drink alcohol because YOU WILL DIE

Ok, so maybe you won't die, per se, but you will have one hell of an interesting night and then a pretty crappy day nursing a ridiculous hangover the following day.

So it was my birthday last week. I don't know why I was determined this year to have a memorable birthday but I was almost desperate to. Initially I was having my girls from GA come to visit and we were going to make a girls weekend of it. True to form, they bailed on me, pretty useless, So as a backup I decided to see if any of my work mates would like to party with me instead. And by "I decided", I really mean the night before it came up that it was my birthday and McHottie (official name for tall white and SEXY as hell previously known as Hercules in the last post) said we should totally celebrate, once he found out my plans fell through. I know what you're thinking, Awwww look at that, he's sweet. Well, he likes to drink and any excuse is a good one right? Enter the cynic in me, Lol.

ANYHOO.... So it was roughly arranged that after work the next day (I was off and THANK GOD he was getting off at 7:30) a few of us would go and have drinks at a local bar. I didn't show it but in my head I was doing backflips and head spins out of excitement that McHottie was going to be there.

Sidenote, the day before I had found out quite devastatingly that McHottie got a job offer and my birthday would be his last day with us. I know. Kismet HATES me.

Anyway, back to the story. So I was off on my birthday and did the mani pedi thing with a co worker who had to work that night and would only be catching the tail end of my birthday thing. We had lunch together and it was cool. At the nail salon, while I was waiting on her guess who calls me? FB. I KNOW!!! I was a little taken aback. Now he has slowly been emailing me a lot and we were getting to more regular talking terms but he had never called and I suppose it was my birthday so that's why he called. We will delve into that later though.

So after mani pedis, I went to work with Latina coworker because I had to have a quick chat with one of my managers. Granted I probably could have called but I was looking good and wanted to "bump" into McHottie. And I did. And we solidified plans for later that night. It was a small group but I didn't care, I only had eyes for McHottie.

So I went home and bought a dress which I don't think I am a fan of much anymore now that I think of it but it was short, tight and off the shoulder. I needed to look good. It was my birthday and I was having drinks with McHottie.

I was fashionably late to the bar and got there after they had already sat down and ordered a round of drinks. My coworker (let's call her Red) immediately got me a drink and it was on like gangbusters from that point onward. So Bug-A-Boo was there sitting by the wall at our small table. Next to Bug-A-Boo was Red, across from Bug-A-Boo was McHottie and next to McHottie was Transportation Girl, another pseudo coworker who tagged along. I was fine with it but I was hoping to have sat next to McHottie, but whatever.

So then the drinks came. And came. And came and came and came. In my haste to find a hot outfit, I neglected to eat dinner. So I had two tacos from lunch in my belly and that didn't bode too well for me alcohol wise. Lol. I dunno if it was the huge cocktail, the name of which I have long since forgotten, that I first had, or the Ameretto sours that kept finding their way to me (yummy by the way) or the umpteen shots of tequila and random coffee liqueur or the Godzilla sized beerita I ordered on a whim (trying to keep up with McHottie, who might be a bit of a lush) but by 9pm I was lit. Lol. I was cussing like a sailor, talking louder than my usual loudspeaker setting, agreeing to random things, taking shots (I don't do shots, let alone TEQUILA!) and laughing a lot. Lol. I was a drunken mess and it was still way early. The only food I had there was a couple of bites of fried ice cream and three and a half chips with queso. It was kind of a disaster.

But it gets better. Oh, it always gets better with me doesn't it. Lol. So the place closed around 10 or 10:30 and we were in the parking lot. Bug-A-Boo went to change into proper clothes as he was still in his work clothes. I barely paid any attention to him that night lol. McHottie was lit but apparently he is a functional drunk because he seemed ok. Kind of. He was doing lunges in the parking lot. For no apparent reason. Over and over and over. I must have been on a quick downward spiral at this point because I remember only snatches of what happened next. I remember the manager chilling outside with us, making sure we (I) were good. He had the hots for Red even though she is married with kids. Lol. McHottie was doing lunges all over the place and Transportation girl was Gabby McTalksALot. At one point abs came up in conversation. I asked McHottie if he had a six pack. He said he had an eight pack. And that was the beginning of the end. I remember telling him to show me, him resisting while giggling and then me chasing him around a column drunkenly slurring "It's my burrrrrthday!! Come on!! Show me! Let me feel them!" Oh. My. God. I groped.... my crush. In the parking lot. I felt him up.... MULTIPLE times. Oh the absolute horror!

And then I passed out in the backseat of Red's car. I woke up at some point when Transportation girl tried to force feed me steaming coffee which ended up down my dress and burned the crap out of my chest. Nice job TG. Truly inspired. I remember Latina getting off work and arriving but I was half passed out and only heard her voice as she made me drink Sprite. I then threw up outside Red's car and passed out for real.

I woke up in a SpongeBob covered room and properly freaked out for a good five minutes until I remembered that Red has a five year old son and that is probably where I ended up. My shoes were off, I was face down, most likely drooling on the poor kids sheets and he was giving me the stink eye from the doorway. He had woken up early and crawled out of mummy's bed and back to his room and was none to pleased to find this drunken stranger in his bed. I felt bad, lol. Latina Girl came to pick me up as Red had to be at work that morning and took me to my car and though I am pretty sure I was still a little drunk, I drove my mortifying ass home and proceeded to have the worst hang over ever. Granted, I have never been hung over before. But I was then. I felt like hell all Saturday and stayed in bed and bits and pieces of the previous night were coming back to me and making me cringe more and more each time. I texted McHottie early on apologizing for "whatever I did last night" and then texted Latina to find out what exactly that was. Ugh.Eventually McHottie texted back that it was all good and he was still celebrating, He even texted me while I was in church the next day saying he was still celebrating, Lol. Lush.

So yeah. It was an interesting, memorable birthday. Had drinks with coworkers and McHottie, overdid it, groped McHottie in the parking lot, threw up and passed out and then displaced a five year old boy from his SpongeBob sheets. Awesome. Things are looking up for me. Lol.

But after the initial shock and mortification of Saturday when memories were filtering back to me, and the awful feeling of being hungover, I can say it was a good birthday. I wasn't alone or inhibited. I didn't cry. I wasn't depressed. I was with people and had a good time and got to feel up a devastatingly sexy man I have been crushing on for ages now. I did good.

And thankfully I didn't have to face McHottie that Monday because he got a new job and is now gone from my life. I remember him promising to take me shooting at some point. I dunno if that will pan out or if I will actually see him again but I am hoping relentlessly that I do see more of him and somehow he sees me not as Drunky McLightweight who he used to work with, but as a Sexy, possible shag. I could do with just shaggin him one time. I know I probably couldn't because of how insane my imagination gets when a hot guy so much as looks at me, but At this point I kind of think if he wanted to shag, I would have a REALLY hard time saying no. In fact I am pretty sure I would be naked before he completed the sentence. I'm not proud of this, but there it is.

My God HE IS SO SEXY it is maddening!!!!

Red's birthday is coming up in two weeks and we are going to do drinks again. She said we should invite McHottie and I am hoping against hope he makes it because if he does, I am not getting drunk off my ass before 10pm this time and I will do whatever it takes to blip on his radar. Have I mentioned how much I want him? No? I WANT HIM SO BADLY IT MAKES MY TEETH HURT. I have no clue what that means but it sounds right.

So. Fun birthday memory.

I am the Queen Mother of Unrequited Love.

And it sucks. Unrequited love and/or lust? Yep. I'm the queen bee. The big kahuna. The grand master. And it needs to bloddy well stop already.

So last post I spoke about Hercules as the Great White Hope? I dunno why I referred to him as that because the hope and chance is so slim and minute its nuts. You know what doesn't help a crush? Well, one, when your crush insists on always looking devastatingly sexy and knowing he does. And secondly, when other people who have no clue whatsoever that youi have said crush, tell you randomly that they see you with that person. Aaaaaargh!! My imagination has now been given free reign to go nuts and it has fully taken advantage of that. Dammit!

So I had dinner with some work mates last night. That in itself was a big thing because I NEVER get invited out when work mates hang out. I mean maybe occasionally but not terribly often. I constantly feel out of the loop with my work group, possibly because I am reserved when it comes to sharing about me. I am not about sharing intimate details about me and even with close friends, I am slow to warm and speak in code at times. Its my vice. But a few work mates I havent really hung with decided to invite me to drinks last night and I was a bit chuffed. Turned into an interesting gossipy bitchfest about others at work but I have to say the one coworker I was afraid might be a tad gossipy surprised me. She still is a bit but I warmed to her a lot. I have always thought she was really gorgeous and wanted to get to know her (those two are so unrelated but you know what I mean). Anyway we had drinks. And chatted about the drama that goes on at work. I REALLY am out of the loop cuz I learned a hell of a lot about people at work last night. But I digress.

So we get to a topic about work relationships and out of the blue Beautiful Co-Worker (admittedly my nicknaming skills have deteriorated significantly recently)says "You know, I see you with "Hercules"" and it took all I had to keep my face from exploding because I wanted to insanely yell "ME TOO!!!!!!!" and jump on top of the dinner table and do a happy dance not much unlike the Hammer Can't Touch This dance. But I composed myself and said "On what planet?" which in hindsight sounds like I was saying "I would never date him" when in reality I meant "Yeah right, like he would ever consider me." I suppose thats ok because I don't want people knowing that I want him. Badly. At least I don't need that gossip floating about and I don't need him recoiling at the thought. Now I am not atrocious looking. I am kinda cute but I don't know that I am his type. But God, if you are listening a shot with him would be amazing. Just a kiss. Or a quick snogfest. I would really really like that. Is it a sin to pray this way? If so, I'm sorry.

But yeah. like I said before. He can get it. All DAY he can get it. Nighttime too. And now I am dreaming about him. I keep having dreams about him and though I know its lustful and most of the content of those dreams are rated M for maturity, I am craving the attention of a man. That means having someont to fawn over. Someone to go to ball games with. Someone to teach me how to shoot a gun or drive a stick or bbq or something. Someone to have movie dates and dinner dates with. Someone to dress up for and get perfume for and fuss about my appearance for. And if it should happen to be this tall glas of Fuck Me Five Ways to Sunday, why the hell not?

So. I am still single. Still slightly ridiculous. And still lusting over this Herculean Adonis. Oh and yesterday at work was a departure day and a cute black guest came up to me to check out. And I "checked him out" in all ways I could. And then turned to my boss and asked him what our company poilicy on stalking attractive guests was. Now I am pretty sure my boss thinks I am psychotic. Meh. Whatever, most people do so no worries.

Damn. I just had a mini fantasy/daydream about Hercules. He is plaguing my thoughts. And will be the first person I see in the morning. At work that is. Although I could get used to him being the first person I see in the morning...not at work. Lol. I'm a huge mess.

Malaika out.

Toddler Magnet, Great White Hope and Letting Go

So it's official. I cut him out of my life finally. It only took me four long and heart rending years to realize he wasn't going to wake up and love me the way I needed him to just because I needed him to. He was not changing and any changes I thought I saw were my own wishful thoughts clouding my judgement.

It may have helped in me moving on that he moved to another continent altogether and started dating someone almost immediately. Yes, that aided the cut off quite a bit. But the funny thing is it isn't acrimonious. Well perhaps just a little. I get very sad and bitter when I think of what he put me through but honestly he only did what I allowed him to do so where's the sense in blaming him for it? He's not a bad person. They are never bad people. Just greedy people. I think I was more angry at myself for letting it go on for so long and giving my everything to something I saw ages ago was not working. Anyway after a series of long emails where I poured out all my emotion and told him I always knew about all the other girls and how he was afraid to admit to me and perhaps himself that he did not love me, I decided we should go our separate ways. Not remain friends because it would just be too hard to watch him move on so quickly while I did not. He didn't really want to because in his mind we have always just been mates and really good mates but he accepted it and we broke off contact. I removed him from all social media outlets and I have been away for over a month now. I did message him a couple of days ago on the anniversary of his dad's death but that was the only break in my resolve. I couldn't not say anything. Its a difficult thing losing a parent. I told him I was praying for him and I will. And I think I should stop talking about him now because I am there finally. At the place where I don't hurt unless I dredge up painful memories and even then, it's not the breath taking pain I used to feel. It's just numb and indifferent now. And I am happier now than I have been in years. Even alone and slightly ridiculous.

Speaking of my ridiculousness, this poses a perfect segue into the other two topics hinted at in my title for this post. Shall I start with the Great White Hope? Yes it really is what it sounds like. Kids, I have developed an obscene crush on a white co-worker of mine who happens to also be 4 years younger than me. It's quite appalling actually. Four years may not seem like much but I find it wierd just thinking about it in the dark recesses of my mind. He's a baby. And I'm not sure why of late I have been crushing a lot on men of the.... lighter persuasion shall we say. In any event when I first met this new crush of mine (we'll call him Hercules for reasons you'll get later), I did not immediately want him. He is quite a beautiful man, don't get me wrong. But he was... pretty. A little too pretty. In fact, I kind of think he looks like Ken. Of Barbie and Ken fame. Yep. Pretty. And initially I never really talked to him or worked with him at all really. I would see him every now and then and I was aware women found him attractive but I was too busy dealing with my own life dramas to notice. And then my love life fell to shambles and I needed a distraction and somehow we were scheduled for similar shifts and voila... a crush was born.

A harmless appreciation at first but then I looked more closely and though he has pretty features (namely his luxurious eyelashes and high cheekbones), he also has very manly features as well. He is tall which every girl wants in a man. Broad shouldered, vast chested. He has that chiselled cartoon Superman/Bruce Wayne jawline that is very manly. He is an athlete with an athlete's incredible body and he engages in very manly activities in his spare time. Naturally all this probably means he is like other attractive, manly men. A whore. Lol. No, that's harsh. He may not be a whore but something tells me he would probably bang anything not nailed to the ground. Ya. I said bang.

So initially it's all harmlss. We work together, during our downtimes he makes me laugh and seems like a fun person to be around. He is a tad moody at times and his family is a bit well off which lends one to think he might be spoiled but he has a college degree and works full time in an hourly position. He's not totally useless then. Then the more I work with this bloke, the more I find him creeping into my thoughts when I'm off the clock. What the bollocks is happeneing to me? Then the culmination of the madness. One night I actually had a dream about meeting his parents. Oh no kids, I don't just wade in pools of insanity... I do laps in the ocean of crazy. Ya. I had dreams of sleeping with him on his boat. Yes. He has a boat. I mean it was all kinds of wrong. And the best part is, I have a pretty good idea what his type might be. Your gorgeous, blonde or auburn haired girl next door All American type with a huge rack and a sorority background. If I'm wrong I will swallow a bag of nickels.

So yeah. THAT's been happeneing although it now comes in waves. Some days the crush is there, minor now that I have mellowed out a bit. And other days he ignores me or annoys me somehow and I don't like him. Being aware of my singleness has reverted me back to junior high it seems. Ugh. Plus he's white. I have nothing against dating a white guy. Its just I've never done it before, my last foray into interaccial love ended partly because of the race issue (on him and his family's part) and my grandfather would probably have a fit. But lately there have been some very good looking white boys to preoccupy all this free time my mind seems to have found. Hayden Christensen and Ryan Gosling don't help matters by not only existing, but insisting on being famous and in my face all the bloody time. Thanks you sexy jerks.

Segue into my recent discovery that I am a toddler magnet. As in, I have attracted a bit of attention from younger blokes of late. All mysteriously 19 years old. So the first is this kid who I work with who is constantly in a sour mood or so it seemed. We'll call him Bug-A-Boo because frankly thats what he has become. Bug-A-Boo started out just hanging about and always preferring to goof off talking to me at the desk rather than do his job. And he decided that anyone who speaks the wrong way to him or tells him what to do is not worth his time so that has wittled down his list of potential conversation partners to a handful of us at work. And when we work the same shift, he tends to hover around me. At first I thought nothing of it. He's like 9. Teen. But still. I also thought he had a type that included only white girls. He is Hispanic himself but from the conversations I have had with him it seemed his preference was white girls. Fine. Thank goodness. I was one of few who tolerated him so he gravitated towards me a lot. Natural right? Then my co workers start teasing me about how he likes me and I start seeing that he does buzz around quite a bit. And he took a harmless joke about being my date to an office party a tad too seriously and I found myself scribbled once again and with this little Bug-A-Boo I can't shake. Oy.

Oh but it gets better. There's another 19 year old I work with. Really nice, sweet guy who I chat with every so often when we work similar shifts. We'll call him Tweety because he is so sweet. So Tweety and I are mates. Then all of a sudden its time for the holiday party at work and it comes to light that neither him nor I have dates to the party. So one of my older co-workers takes it upon herself to become the resident Yentaand have a chat with him without my knowledge about how he should ask me to be his date. She is fully aware of the age difference and thinks its nothing. Hmmn. Ok. And the poor boy is put in a tough spot because he doesnt want to ask me to be his date, he wants to be left alone but he is just too nice and she keeps badgering the poor boy and then she tells me what she did. I'm mortified. I'm afraid now he thinks I set her up to do this and I am thinking, My God I must look so pathetic and lame. And I feel as if he's started avoiding me at work. Lol. She assures me he doesn't think that way at all (RIGHT) and promises she'll stop accosting him and making him feel uncomfortable. Then his best mate, who is another 19 year old co worker who will feature a bit later in this post (let's call him Gladiator because he has Greek features and is pretty tall and muscular). So Gladiator jokingly tells me after lunch one day that I should go with Tweety to the holiday party. I'm beyond mortified at this point because I think my older co-worker has been running her mouth but nope. Turns out Gladiator came up with this idea all on his own, coincidentally the same thought and around the same time my older co-worker did and he told his mate Tweety to ask me to the holiday party. At this point I may as well have stood in the center of the lobby and pulled my knickers down to my ankles and mooned everybody coming in, thats how embarassed I was. Luckily it all died down. I brought a girlfriend as my plus one for the pary and he went with Gladiator and his date and that was the end of that.

So I thought. Nope. Too easy. This is me remember? So last night I'm mindng my own business, laying in bed updating facebook and such and I get a random text after midnight from Gladiator asking me why I was up and what I was doing. I responded with nothing much since he didn't invite me to the party he is having (Oy! I set mself up for these disasters) and this turned into a full on campaign on his part to get me to come to his frat house (oh did I neglect to mention that both these 19 year olds are in a fraternity. Smashing.) and later his apartment. I took it as light hearted banter and played along. Oh, I'm so daft at times. At some point I said I didn't think coming over for the tour of the frat house was worth putting on a pair of pants at which Gladiator said pants were completely optional (fan-bloody-tastic) and then he proceeded to shoot down every excuse I had for not going. It was 2am. Yeah.

Admittedly I was bored and curious and perhaps craving a bit of male attention. So I went. You read that right. I put on some jeans, hopped in my car and drove the ten minutes to their frat house. At 2am. Bloody fantastic. And I got a tour from the blokes and then they said lets go up the street to their flat. And I did. And then Tweety had some business to take care of at the frat house with an overly intoxicated brother who may have needed to go to the ER (turns out he didn't have to go afterall. Hmmmn.) so it was just me and Gladiator. In their flat. Yep. Great decision making skills so far, don't you think? Well, nothing happened. Except of course if you count the minor cudddling and the invitation from Gladiator for me to stay the night so as not to have to drive back home, despite the fact that I had no alcohol in my system and it was a ten minute drive. He wanted to cuddle and fall asleep.Doesn't that just sound like those high school guys who tell their virgin girlfriends there is nothing wrong with hugging naked in bed? Anyway, on the couch he might have touched my thigh three times while I recounted my recent bad luck in the boyfriend department. No, no.. I'm not makng any of this up. I'm really that unaware. And then he rested his head against my chest and I rested my chin on the top of his head. The same head that was partially on my shoulder/chest. Yep. THAT just happened. But nothing more transpired. He got sleepy, tried to get me to stay a few times. I declined and walked back to my car. He sent me a text saying the door was still unlocked if I changed my mind. I drove home and got into my own bed at which point Tweety sent me a message asking if I got home safe. Oh... memories.

I get myself into the most awkward and unfortunate pickles. I am a deluded moron. And apparently a toddler magnet with a specialty in 19 year olds. I am friggin dirty Mother Goose. All while thinking to myself the entire night, had it been Hercules.... I think the night might have ended differently. Oh, HE can get it. Day and night he can get it. I would climb him like a friggin tree and do things to him Americans girls don't even know about. Ok. I dunno, what exactly that means and I probably wouldn't let that happen with him but in my head I have already shown him Africa's Paradise. And I aint talking about Victoria Falls, I'll tell you that much.

Oy vay. I've gone round the bend I reckon.