It's so yucky outside...cold and a little rainy. The perfect weather to reflect a yucky day.
My Megan's Law hearing did not go well. I really can't stand cross-examining psychologists/psychiatrists. I swear it drives me batty. I don't think he gave me one straight answer the entire examination. Grrr.
Vacation has officially started, though. And that is a good thing.
I came home, walked the dog and let him loose to chase squirrels in the cemetary:
Then I came home, crawled into bed and had the best nap. Now I'm curled up with the kitty and a cup of coffee. The dog is running and hopping around, barking, desperately wants to be played with.
I'm just about done Christmas shopping. I know what I want to buy my mom, it's just a matter of getting out and doing it. Still have to get something for my brother and sister-in-law. I have a ton of knitted gifts that I need to hurry up and finish...sigh. That will hopefully be done tonight and tomorrow.
It's so quiet in my apartment building...I guess all of my neighbors have gone and are on their way home to their families...I decided to spend tonight here just to get some alone time in before the holiday. After the crappy week I've had, I need some alone time.
Date #2 and I are supposed to have dinner on Thursday night. I told him that I would make the reservations, etc. He asks me, in an email, whether it will be a fancy or casual restaurant and:
whether he'll be paying or will I pay.
Sigh.
Was a smashing success! Yay!
He has:
great sense of humor
is extremely intelligent. smarter than me even.
is tall and thin
seems stable (has a professional career, doesn't live at home, actually owns a car)
he eerily reminds me of an exboyfriend (you know, the guy who was probably the best thing that ever happened to me but I was too dumb and immature to know it and appreciate it).
that kind of makes me a little...hesitant about being attracted to him. I mean, if he didn't resemble the x so much I think I might be physically attracted to him. I don't know. But I'm not going to write him off just because of that.
The play we saw was great - very funny. And we hit it off right away - no awkward pauses in the conversation and it's amazing how much we have in common. Not just with the sense of humor and type of literature we like to read, but we both ran marathons, have similar family backgrounds...the goodbye was kind of awkward. Since it's 10:30 on a sunday night, there was no "wanna grab a drink" or anything. We sat in his car for a bit and talked about marathons and family. I am very impressed by his inner geek. Then he drove me home. He said something about talking soon, I think I muttered (in my ever so charming way) "yeah, i'm sure i'll never hear from you ever again" - fortunately he got the joke and actually laughed.
Although I suppose it's a possibility that I'll never hear from him again...although I doubt it.
But you know what? If I never hear from him again, I think I'll be okay...I had a good time, he seems like a nice, decent guy. A good reminder to me that they actually exist.
On another note, I came home to find my dog got into the trash and was eating part of a hamburger patty that I had thrown out early this afternoon. It had been in the freezer and I figured it was time to toss it. I was planning on taking it out before I went on the date but I forgot. Anyway, it had pretty much thawed by the time he got to it. Now I'm worried he's going to get all sick from it...He seems okay...
I really shouldn't drink.
I didn't begin to accept the fact that I have a drinking problem until about 2 years ago. I've been seeing the same psychiatrist for my depression for the last 5 years. The first time I met him, at the end of our session, he said:
"I think you have no idea how to have a healthy relationship and I think you're an alcoholic."
I was dumbstruck. And ANGRY. I thought he was the biggest jackass I'd ever met. If my former psychiatrist (who retired) hadn't recommended him, I would have told him off and walked out. Instead, I thought to myself, "I'll show him."
Three years (and 1 hospitalization later), I realized he was right. Maybe when he pointed out to me that every bad thing that had ever happened to me happened when I had been drinking. And while I didn't drink every day, even went without for months at a time, and while bad things didn't happen every time I got drunk, every time I was near alcohol it was like rolling the dice. Sometimes I would go to a bar with friends and just have soda. I have never felt peer pressured to drink. I don't need it to have a good time. It doesn't bother me in the least to be drinking soda while everyone else is drinking alcohol. (Being around reallyl drunk people when I'm not does bother me because drunk people are annoying.) Anyway, other times, I'd have a beer and go home. And then sometimes, I'd drink myself into an oblivion and wake up in a pool of my vomit, covered in bruises, and unable to account for the last few hours. It was a gamble every time I went into a bar or to a party.
I went to a few AA meetings, but didn't relate to anyone there. While I'm not addicted to alcohol, I do abuse it.
When I'm down, I often want to drink. But over the last few years, my tolerance has vanished. My tolerance for being hungover has been an effective deterrent to drinking. I get the WORST hangovers, even from just a glass of wine. So, generally, if I've been going through a blue period I just avoid alcohol at all costs and avoid putting myself a potentially dangerous situation.
Last night, for the first time in a very, very long time, I drank to get drunk. I drank to get stumbling home-mind numbing-vomiting drunk. For some weird reason, I really like getting totally wasted and then forcing myself to throw it up. It's...cathartic...I mean, it physically hurts and I feel like I deserve it, like I'm punishing myself which makes me feel better.
God I have issues.
Now that my hangover part passed, the residual fall-out starts. A physical-feeling depression. I always feel very down for a few days after I drink heavily. Which was why I drank so heavily in the first place. It's a vicious cylce.
I just want to be numb. To not feel anything. Sometimes the hurt is just too much to bear. And it's a lot easier to get numb than to work through it.
I am so hungover.
Drinking and dialing is a bad thing. Very bad.
I wish I'd never met you. I hate you for what you've done to me, what you've taken from me, what I've willingly handed right over to you. I read back over my diary entries and I wrote with this confidence that I don't have anymore...I said all of the right things to myself, thinking I believed what I was writing...I was just kidding myself, really.
I hate you.
I hate that we've disengaged, and the silence is deafening. I hate that when we talk, there is so much tension hanging above us that it's harder and harder to breathe.
I hate how dependent I've become on you.
I hate that just when I think I'm moving on and doing well, I break down and cry because I miss you so much.
I hate that you make me feel beautiful right when I'm feeling disgusted in my own skin.
I hate the way you make me like myself.
I hate that you are the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about when I go to bed.
I hate that you're "trying."
I hate that, once again, I'm the one left empty-handed.
I hate that you won't take a leap of faith.
I hate that I want to drink and feel numb.
I hate that I can tell, by the tone of your voice, that you really don't want to hear from me anymore.
I hate that it's easier on you when you don't see me.
I hate that I always try to take the higher road.
I hate that we won't be exchanging Christmas gifts, when I know already what I want to give to you.
I hate that this time last year, I baked you a cake and sang happy birthday and we got into in my bed and ate a piece together.
I hate that I don't want to move on.
But most of all.
I.
Hate.
You.
and
I. Hate. Myself.
I wonder who came up with this one:
What a great way to start my morning :)
Between him and laughing so hard,I couldn't get anything done! He kept chasing the vacuum cleaner and kept trying to bite it!
Finally, he went and pulled out the cord!
Where have I been, you ask?
I dropped my laptop. Again.
Yes. That laptop that had the brand new harddrive that I had JUST had installed (because I had dropped my laptop and had damaged the harddrive - which was also a brand new harddrive that had been replaced by Apple).
That's 3 harddrives in under a month.
After it happened, I turned out the lights in my apartment and crawled under the covers and decided that I was going to pretend it didn't happen. Only to wake up and have to deal with the fact that, yes, I had just dropped my laptop again and damaged my harddrive. Again.
I decided that I clearly wasn't responsible enough to own a laptop anymore.
I am composing this latest entry on my early Christmas present. My father decided that I was being a bit hard on myself and took me to the Apple store to pick out a new laptop. At first I refused, and then decided I was being an idiot for turning down his offer. But I refused to get a brand new one - so I picked out a "refreshed" MacBook that was the store demo, it's only 6 months old. It's AMAZING. Apple has really outdone itself. My dad then insisted to on having my old laptop examined and then have the harddrive replaced. I didn't understand why he wanted to waste another $200 on it, and then I realized HE wanted my old laptop. Ha! I think I have begun the Macintosh conversion on my dad! So the old ibook is off to Apple for a new brain and my spanking new MacBook is on my lap.
Other than that drama, things have been busy. Busy at work, busy with the dog. He had his surgery (neutering) on Friday and that was another drama. He went in early Friday morning and the vet released him later that afternoon. I thought they would keep him over night, but no. At first he seemed ok, but things went steadily downhill. He was in very bad shape and was showing symptoms that I just couldn't figure out. Plus he wouldn't eat or drink anything. He couldn't sit or lay down, just stood there, shaking, with a glassy look. Wasn't responding. I was in such a panic. Called the vet ER, they were a bit surprised he wasn't given any pain medicine. He just moaned and moaned and I couldn't even pick him up without hurting him. Then he just collapsed, fell right over. I flipped out, called the breeder - thank God she was there - turned out he was very hypoglycemic. I gave him some corn syrup and he bounced back like a champ. Then gave him some hot dog. Lots of hot dog.
Yesterday was still a bit touch-and-go, but this morning he's back to his bubbly, tail wagging self. I'll have to post some pics of him in his Elizabethan collar - it's very funny. He looks like a little buttercup. I think I'll decorate it :)
My eharmony matches, by the way, are getting better and better. I haven't met any of them yet, but there are quite I few who I am definitely interested in. Hopefully I'll be able to start meeting up with some of these matches after Thanksgiving.
Today, just hanging out with the family and Dash. Nothing exciting.
Ahhhh....$250 later, I have a completely repaired laptop. New harddrive, a few new buttons on my keyboard, and my battery lock taped down.
Can I just tell you how much I love Jon Stewart & The Daily Show and The Colbert Report? Hysterical. Just hysterical.
Now I must go and put all of the stuff back onto my computer that I lost. Again.
