spinsterwoman’s blog

Yeah, it's been forever since I have visited my blog.  I've been preoccupied with my lame attempt at online dating.  Can I slit my wrists now?  Free online dating sites are like crack.  Free my A**!  On this one site, you can bcome a member and view other members' profiles for free, but you have to be a paid member to actually TALK to anyone!  What is up with this?  If I just want to look at people I will go to the club.  Then, when you go to a guy's profile, you have communication options.  You can wink, or send flowers...How cute.  You can refer to a frieend What's up with that?  If I am interested in  someone, I'm not shareing!

Chicago has only  had 15 days of full sunshine since January.  What is up with this?  It's June 11, and outside it looks and feels like November.  These dark skies make me almost want to slit my wrists.  On top of this, there is that lovely recession everyone is talking about.  This is how my average day begins.  NPR blasts me up at 6:30am.  There is news of some major car company or bank laying off a few thousand people.  I stick my head under the covers because the sky is dark and I almost think it is still nighttime.  My cat is either purring or biting me, depending on  his mood. 

Sometimes, what we need to know isn't necessarily what we want to hear. Tonight, I went to a bar near my home called The Sovereign.  A friend of mine usually hangs out there, so I was hoping I would run into her, since we had arranged to go to a poetry reading.  That didn't happen.  Instead, I ran into a blast from my sordid past.  You see, not that long ago, I was into some things I shouldn't have been into.  I was chemically imbalanced, to say the least.  On one of these chemically imbalanced occasions, I was at this same bar, and I chatted up a guy named Mike.  We bought some beer and went to my place.  This much I remember.  I decided beer wasn't enough, and wanted other ammenities.  This much I remember.  While I was procuring these other ammenities, this man was in my home for two hours.  Now, I remember leaving this guy in my place while I went to "the store", but I hadn't remembered the length of my shopping excursion.  Mike came into the bar tonight.  He recognized me, and knew my name.  I recognized him, and remembered parts of the night, but couldn't remember his name.  We talked, and he reminded by of the sordid details of our evening.  He made sure to let me know that he couldn've robbed me blind when I was gone.  He could've been a serial killer and I could be fodder for worms right now.  HOLY SHIT!!!! 

The funny thing is, just this weekend, I was thinking of all of the stupid mistakes I made in my past.  During my chemicallly imbalanced times, I could've bought home a thief who'd rob me blind, a killer who'd chop me into pieces., or a cop who could've put me in jail for a substantial lenght of time.  God works in strange ways.  It's by His grace that these things didn't happen to me.  ( or haven't happened to me YET...) It was hard to face Mike tonight.  He could've been telling the truth.  He could've been exaggerating because I didnt give him "the goods".  Either way, the details of the evening are too blurry for me to defend myself.  Whateven did happen is the past, and cannot be undone.  Mike and I both kept apologizing to each other.  It was awkward, to say the least. 

Althought the experience, was painful, it was necessary, and even a bit hopeful.  I learned just how low I had gone, but also how far I have come from that point. 

Mike and I exchanged numbers, and agreed to meet in a more civilized fashion.  We'll see what happens.

I have something like 8 minutes to sneak in a blog entry before lunch break is over.  Lately I am logged into the computer and getting high on "The Facebook"  Yes, I swore I would never get sucked in, but I log in every chance I get, and when I am not on the Facebook, I am thinking of cute little things to say when I am there.  The problem is, I can never remember them when I am actually there, so my posts are really dorky. 

T-5 mins...

The "Mission Impossible" theme is playing in my head as I blog on the sly.  Last night, my boss caught be after work typing up the poem I planned to read at The Heartland Cafe.  BAD EMPLOYEE!!!!!!

Outlook and g-mail were the gateway drugs.  THen came the blog, Now I am addicted to the Facebook.  Before you know it, I will be on that heroin thing knows as "Twitter", and I will be selling myself on the street corner jsut for a quick "Tweet" 

T-3:30 seconds...

Two weeks ago, I finally broke down and got on  The Facebook.  It isn't as bad as I thought. I actually have soemthing like 65 friends.  Of course my friend Dyann has 759 friends, so I guess I am not as cool as her.  Oh well... How would I keep up with 759 friends anyway.  That would be a full time job in itself.

Most of my friends consist of family members.  It is cool that I can log on and find out what my aunts, uncles and cousins everywhere are doin.  The problem is they can find me too.  How am I supposed to pick up hot young cabana boys on the facebook if my family busts me out for making myself ten years younger on the profile?  Furthermore, what happens when classmates find me on this thing?  I don't necessarily want to talk to everyone I know in college and I couldn't stand most of the people I knew in high school.  I have no desire to keep in touch with any of these people. 

You would think I would've learned that boy chasing thing by now.  You know, that thing where the woman flirts with the guy in a subtle manner, so he thinks it's his idea to go after her.  I do have 6 sisters after all.  Somehow, I never have mastered this skillset.  Whenever I am interested in someone, they know two weeks before I do.  I  usually handle  the boy/girl thing by simply getting drunk and jumping the guy's bones.  Either we hook up or he gives me some stupid spiel about how he likes me as a friend and never speaks to me again.  After the fiasco affair I had with "Mr. 4am" last year, I decided to try doing things differently.  I have been checking out this guy I know for a little while now.  Every time I see him I try that stupid little flirt thing, and it is SOOOO frustrating.  Even though I haven't actually jumped his bones yet, I feel I might as well get it over with.  Last night I came dangerously close to doing this. I saw him after I had been drinking for a few hours.  I was on a mission, but never got him alone long enough to go through with it.  It is better that way, however I regret plotting the whole thing.  I feel like God and everybody knows of my evil plan anyway.  I woke up this morning alone, with a nasty hangover.  I don't remember every word I said to the guy, but considering my blood alcohol level and general lack of sublety, he must surely know I am interested in him.  It will be interesting to see what happens next.

Have you ever felt like there is nothing in your head but that white space static that happens between radio stations on the AM dial or TV before 24 hour programming came into place?  Lately this is how I feel.  I have always had bouts with anxiety and depression, but this depression is like no other.  The only thing that keeps me from jumping off a building or even crying myself to sleep is that these things require too much energy.  I have tried the usual things to make myself feel better, rearranging my apartment, getting a new hairdo, drinking with friends etc. Nothing works.  There is not any particular reason I should feel blue.  I am still employed (today at least).  My love life isn't any worse than usual, WTF is going on??? Hopefully, like the Chicago winter this will pass and the sun will eventually come out.

My wallet was stolen as I was boarding the CTA train last night. The funny thing about this is I realized that happened when I opened my purse to help a poor guy with a few bucks for a CTA card.  The fact that I was trying to do a good deed and got robbed pissed me off.  How is this fair?  One of my friends recently went through an identity theft situation.  She is one of the sweetest people I know and she'd never hurt anyone.  Where is the justice in this world?  Seriously,   Last night I was cursing up a storm about those bastards who took my money and ruined my life and how I wanted to watch them suffer.  They went somewhere called the Union, and charged $92 within an hour of getting the card.  Even if they didn't lift the wallet from my purse; if it fell to the ground and they picked it up that debit card didn't belong to them Who are they to party it up in some Lincoln Park trixie bar at my expense? and why didn't the bartender at the Union ask them for ID?  Did he know them or did he let those little trixies charge away in the hopes of getting laid?   I have been trying so hard these past few months to curb my own partying to a minimum to save money and I suffer the consequences anyway.  This is bullshit!  What if I took on the same attitude?  What if I decided it is okay now for me to just steal from people ?  I now have 83 cents to my name.  Perhaps I will just grab someone elses debit card and party it up at the Union.  They apparently don't check ID too carefully.

When will Lent be over?  I wish it would just be Easter already.  This is the first year since I was a little girl that I observed Lent.  I decided to make up for lost time by giving up both drinking and diet coke.  This was a HUGE mistake.!  I gave up weed as my new year's resolution, and perhaps it is too much for my brain to handle being off of weed, booze AND caffine!  I am not myself these days.  Things that usually don't bother me piss me off.  For example, I am in the internet cafe and the owners are talking amongst themselves in Spanish.  I just want to scream at them to SHUT THE HELL UP!!!!!  Of course, this is their business, so this would be totally inappropriate.  How did I ever live without my vices?  I tell myself to suck it up, that there are others who go without much more important things, like food and shelter. Besides, I am a healthier person in the end for my lifestyle changes. 

Meanwhile, I am in a prepetual bad mood.  Everyday at work, I have to bite my tongue to keep from telling someone to fuck themselves.  Sometimes, It is a client, sometimes it is a co-worker or even a member of management.  I fear that one day my anger will get the best of me, and I will tell the wrong person off and lose my job or get beaten up. 

Thank God Easter comes in two weeks. 

I gave up drinking for Lent.  This is the first time I have observed Lent in years.  Does giving up something you love make you a better person?  Will I go to Hell because I got caught up in the moment and had a few to celebrate a friend's birthday on Friday?  Last night I went to the pub near work with my friend Cass Money.  The bartender there served me a lovely cherry limeade.  I loved it because it looked alchaholic enough that I didn't look like I wasn't drinking.  I do have a reputation to live down to you know.  On a funny note, the bartender knew Mr. 4am.  SHe couldn't remember his name, but she could describe him to a t, and said he was a total douchebag. .  It gives me a warm fuzzy feeling inside to know others think he is an asshole, too. 

I think there is something in cherry limeade that makes you hallucinate.  I had the craziest dream last night.  I was rollling into the driveway of my grandmother's country farm and saw a note about the doorbell.  It said "KATE, I HATE YOU, GO AWAY!"   It was from my friend Tiana, because we had a fight in the dream.  When I walked into the house, it was no longer my grandmother's.  I was inside my college sorority.  This is hillarious because my grandma lives in a quaint old country farm house and my college sorority was a sterile, brick university building.  The two couldn't be any more different.  Everyone was crowded by the TV because they announced that Mel Gibson was dead.  Now, I know Mel Gibson is a famous man, but you'd think they announced the dealth of President Obama or or Martians took over the world.  Everyone was in traction with shock and sadness.  It was one of those times where the moment was frozen and you remembered what you were doing and where you were.  I was trying to arrange a memorial movie night, but nobody would listen to me.  I was truly invisible.  I would talk and hear my words disappear into thin air.  I ran into Jason.  He was on his cell phone making funeral arrangements.  Meanwhile, they announced that a serial killer was using Mel Gibson's death as an excuse to kill sorority girls.  After I couldn't get anyone to remember Mel Gibson with me, I retired to room. A pair of hands grabbed my waist form behind in the dark.  The next thing I remember was waking up in my room surrounded by people.  Someone was telling them I had been through a rough night and needed to rest.  ALthough I was sleeping, the whole thing seemed so real.  I "Woke up" feeling like I had been up all night.  I could remember walking down the sorority house halls trying to talk to people.  I can vividly remember the hands that grabbed me in the dark.  What happened to me?  Did I fall victim to the Mel Gibson memorial killer?  Did Mel Gibson fake his death and start killing sorority girls?  Does my friend Tiana hate me in real life?  Has the Zeta Gamma chapter of Phi Mu taken over my grandmother's place now that she is in a nursing home? 

I do not understand these things.  Maybe I should just stick to blacking out on booze.