Pardon the Rant.

Ring the bells, sound the horns, strike up the band, it’s Double Blog Thursday Thunder!! Or maybe I just need to say to the world: Back OFF! For the LOVE OF PETE!

I’ve been trying not to notice things in the last few days, trying to blow off little sights and sounds that ring a little bell of “twiiiing- he doesn’t want you in his life anymore.” Its actually more of a “thwack” of a club than at “Twiiiiiing” of a bell. Well, before this past weekend it was a twiiiing. This weekend it turned into the thwack. But I needed a Thwack to get over it, you know? So that’s what I’m doing- onward! Seattle is too beautiful and happy this time of year to ignore that fact that I’m well, beautiful and happy too J ( I mean heck, underneath it all, I’m still just a happy girl. And I’m a total hottie.).

So Lindsey is coaching me on match.com (maybe I can find someone who looks good on paper?) , I’m putting renewed efforts into my Canada-America Mid 20’s Cultural Exchange Program (which ironically has no actual connections to Canada, other than the nationality of its founding member), so I can continue finding young men who, well, let’s face it, look really good (but not on paper). I even went to Bike Maintenance 101 class last night at REI and can now proudly say that the next time I get a flat, I’ll be able to fix it! I’m empowered! I rock! I’m going to have a pretty good month at work! I finally found my perfect menu item at Taco Del Mar (after years of tacos and burritos that just weren’t “me” I discovered the chicken quesadilla is just right.) Things are good!

So I can totally pretend not to notice that its Seafair weekend and I have to reroute my drives because the Blue Angels are flying over my head all week. I mean really, its not like people in my office are even yelling down the hallways, “Hey- the Blues are flying- you can see them from the window!!” Heck, I barely notice that the city of Seattle is SWARMING with Navy people in their whites cruising around the town aimlessly. Sometimes even walking right into the street in front of my car, crossing against the signal at a cross walk, causing me to almost hit them. Barely even notice.

Last night when I checked my e-mail, I had all these weirdo’s from match.com who wanted to talk to me. Quick screen: call to Lindsey:

Me: “Um, I really don’t want to reply to any of these guys- am I missing something, and I just bitchy?”
Her: Hummmm lots of no’s. But you should write back to this one. And this one. And that one. I noticed a mistake in your profile, I’ll fix it- what’s your password again? Great. She’s a swell coach.

Then later I get this e-mail from a guy who I’m able to see, on my very own, looks good on paper. “Yey! I’m proud of myself! I figured it out on my own!”. 35 years old, Lives in Seattle. Newly back to the area. Pilot. Nice looking guy. Okay, I’ll take the bait. Maybe we can talk about the uncertainly of pensions for those poor guys at Delta and United or something. I write back. Nothing interesting, just some small talk. And I think to myself, maybe I should read his whole profile. So I click on it while I’m humming the “I love technology...we met in a chatroom…” song in manner of Kip Dynamite.

So I read on. Oh right, of course. He’s a pilot for the US Navy. He actually lives in Anacortes, but posts that he lives in Seattle, because its hard to meet “quality people” in Anacortes. I admit, at this point, I do say to myself, “Ah nuts. You’re killin’ me.” But no big woop. He’s a good guy, and at least he doesn’t fly the SAME plane or anything.

So at work today, with the Blue Angles shaking our glass partitions, and stockbrokers with renewed childhood dreams, craning their necks to look out the windows, I decided that I wanted some hot chocolate. Kind of an unusual thing for me. I’m normally a coffee or water girl mid-day. But we have packets of Swiss Miss in the break room. So I head in and open the cupboard where said Swiss Miss is stored. Along with a variety of Celestial Seasonings Teas. Dang it! We’re out of hot chocolate! But front and center is a box of tea that has somehow fallen out of formation with all its other tea box friends. Its starting at me head-on. I look at it, and I shit-you-not, this is what is says on the side panel that is facing me, word-for-word:
-Real Intimacy-
“Imagine it- someone knows you, all of you, your talents and eccentricities, your generosity and dark moods, what you look like at your best and at your worst. Imagine that you’ve opened all of yourself to that person, no masks, no affectations and that someone says, ‘Yes, I see you, all of you, and I love you for the person you are…’ That’s what makes love so precious. That’s what real romance and intimacy are all about.” -The New Intimacy, Judith Sherven and Jim Sniechowski

ON A GOD DAMNED BOX OF TEA.

At this point, I have a hard time not responding in my head with a “Yeah, and imagine that person is moving to the other side of the country in a few months, and doesn’t want you there with him, because he knows that you’re not ‘the one’, but doesn’t want to break up with you until he has to move because he wants to keep mind-fucking you and having fun and enjoying your ‘generosity and dark moods’. So you know what Celestial Seasonings?? You know what you can do with your Real Intimacy? You can GO FUCK YOURSELF!”.

Whoa! Did I really have that kind of reaction to a lame-ass poem on a box of Almond Sunset TEA? Yes, I sure did.

So world, could you please throw me a fucking bone here? I’m really sick and tired of being sad and confused and frustrated. I really want to just have a nice little memories, a nice little summer and end this nonsense. I’m ready to rock. Let’s go. What is it world? Are you jealous of my ability to accept reality and make the best of it? What, do you think I’m going to steal your man? Well maybe I will! What? Did you just call me a bitch? Oh no you DIDN’T!! You better watch yourself. Stupid Ho.