Current state of the cookie

Two blogginations in one day. How delighted you must be, my faithful constituents of, dare I approximate, ten in number.

Which really is not the point. I offer my whimsical observations and lighter hearted photos/videos/interests over at http://sarahmoeding.tumblr.com, over here is journal-town. It's good to keep the numbers small.

Yesterday, I was to have a date. As is the custom on the day of a date these days, I spent the pre-date time panicking, feeling as if I could vomit at any time, crying just a bit on two or three occasions. But it's never like this when I meet a person, it's only when it comes time for an actual, set down date that I start to lose it. Why? Well, obviously, I shouldn't be dating. I'm in love with Andy, have known I want to spend my life with him since about the time we met; I had a year with him to affirm that notion, which was affirmed and reaffirmed at every turn, and now, six months after breaking up, each dating scenario just, again, reaffirms what I've known now for a year and a half. Until something shifts, I can only imagine repetitions of this situation, ad nauseum.

Which is a damn shame. In theory, a new person should be exciting; even if I know I want Andy, I could delight in the entertainment of a new person, right? Perhaps not.

Anyway. The date fell through. This fellow, "New Dan" as he's been dubbed ("Old Dan" is not super enthused about his title, he prefers "Original Dan" but that's just too damned long) phoned at the time he was supposed to be arriving in Minneapolis (he lives an hour away) to tell me he'd decided to not come as he's leaving for Alaska (!) in three weeks and feels it's unwise to try and start anything which might leave both of us upset in a short period of time.

Okay, sure, I get that. I just wish he'd informed me of this Alaska thing, which he's done now for four years, apparently. I'd have been completely content hanging out with him a couple of times before he left. We met about three weeks ago, and really, really hit it off. He's so much fun. A positive, funny, energetic person. Something I could really use right now. Our meeting was drunken and hilarious, involving the ratting of his hair, followed by him asking me to help him with his too many beverages problem. "You can have the the Crispin or the Summit. Or you can kiss me." I chose the latter, and the kiss was electric and tender and he put his drinks down and dragged me out onto the now empty dancefloor (we were at a big party that was closing down), and proceeded to cut one hell of a rug, spinning me around and making me laugh...

So, really, despite yesterday's crying and nausea, I guess I wish the date had gone down anyway. Or that something had been different. And frankly, now that I know he's leaving anyway, that takes so much pressure off of the idea of him; he doesn't have to be anything more than Fun Dan, not Future Husband Dan. He said, on the phone, that he felt like he was breaking up with me before we'd even gone on a date, that he wasn't saying he'd been planning our kids names or anything, but I seemed like a lot of fun and a good person to know, but ultimately, the timing seemed impossible. And he's right, of course, but that kind of pragmatism goes against my beliefs regarding love; always try. Try, if you want it, see how it sticks, and if it fails, it fails.

But, maybe I am, for the first time, genuinely not in a position to try. I don't know. I do know that New Dan has perfect circumference of thigh (I've got a thing for man-thighs), that he's got joy in his eyes, and freckles and a furry chest and a great beard. I know he makes me laugh and that he's already good at handling my more strident, high strung personality quirks--in a joking, cutely mocking tone; "Oh, look at you, with your moral high ground! Knock it off, be a happy bunny."

I know he took to calling me Happy Bunny right away after getting that from my outgoing voice mail message "This is Sarah, and I'd be one happy bunny if you left me a message". I liked that about him.

Bah.

In other news, the job that previously seemed a foregone conclusion to become full-time and permanent, fell through. I'm back to unemployment and inconsistent temp work. I've realised I'm terrified to try and find a job. I have no interest in going back to serving, but it's all I know, and I have no idea how to find a job otherwise. I put off going to the WorkForce center, despite knowing they hold all of these answers. I know I'm screwing myself, and I could be employed and going to school right now if I'd just get there. Jesus, I type that out and feel like I should probably slap myself across the face a few times.

I'm just in a great transition. I don't operate the way I used to in regard to love/relationships, career, lifestyle, anything. I may be 32, but I definitely feel as if I'm going through the growing pains of a person about five years younger.

I guess I'm a late bloomer.

Dream in which my ex introduces me to his girlfriend, "Randy".

It's narcissistic to be so awed by my own dreams, but I am. Particularly when they're so linearly constructed, so basic, so realistic, peppered with true behaviour (and internal monologue) from myself and others, by appearances of folks I'd be likely to see in such a scenario. It is genuinely hard for me, when I have dreams like this, which have almost no function of "dream" contained within them, to not believe I am privvy to some glimpse into an alternate reality.

I had one of these dreams last night, and I feel like something's been corrected in the waking by it, because of this real, basic quality it has. Namely, that Andy wanted me to meet his new girlfriend, in order to reduce tensions between he and I, and to aid me in facillitating less internal drama in regard to him. The logic: I'll meet her, like her, see that he's happy with her, and it will help me move on. And, if he were to do such a thing, that is exactly what would happen--the only major problem being that both of us are far too neurotic for it to happen (why make a situation easier when you can make it complicaaaaated?). Secrecy and distance only serve to make me feel I'm being lied to or treated like persona non grata. I thrive on inclusion, and while I understand it is not always, or even frequently possible, given that people do want to keep things for themselves, it does tend to grease the wheels quite a lot in my process of working through any situation which is of high emotional content.

In any case, the dream went thusly:

Andy picked me up, there was another girl in tow, a friend of the girlfriend (clever, no? Now I'm not only not alone with Andy, but one of her friends is there, so I can't even ask questions about her or show emotion toward him). Andy was wearing the shirt I first saw him in, and the shorts I last saw him in (clever, too, you silly brain). We drove through a college campus/New England-y looking area, where we stopped to pick her up; at this point I asked Andy what her name was, and he mumbled, or there was too much noise from the radio, so I barely got it, "Randy? Like 'I like to fuck?'" and he looked at me, disapprovingly, for my crassness; "You'll note that there IS someone new in the car." And there she was, and suddenly, I was sitting next to her in the back seat, and her friend was in the front (the one dream function that took place). Randy. She was like a plain-pretty version of Mila Kunis (Andy is fond of plain-pretty), long dark hair, olive complected, all slight of build, long-limbed, dainty, but with an obvious internal strength, and...a sweetness. She smiled, we shook hands, and I mentioned that she looked familiar; she said something about how that was possible, though she'd been out of town for the past three months off in Europe studying for her graduate degree (of course! My god, how cunning my brain is to provide the details for all the things which would be exactly what Andy craves in a woman; in a woman who is not me--though the only detail I do know is that he thinks she's "sweet"; her physical looks, her name, what she does, who she is, all unknown).

We drove to a large, old stone building, where we were to enjoy various presentations on various things--it was some kind of multi-roomed conference on the campus of this university that both Andy and Randy were attending, which was of interest to all of us, where we'd wander at our leisure and listen to important people tell us important things about important topics, all within this large building, built somewhere in the late 19th century, with marble floors and long, echoing hallways. We split up relatively quickly, and I gathered info on the things of interest to me, but soon hours had passed and I was ready to reconvene with the group. I began to search for them, hoping to not come upon Andy and Randy having some sweet, intimate moment, seeing in my mind's eye how they'd look in an embrace. I eventually wound up in a student lounge (how gorgeous these old buildings are, with student lounges filled with large leather couches and velvet drapes over their floor to ceiling windows) where a girl I've known for years sat with a computer on her lap (she's one of a set of twins, and as always when coming across her, I looked for what makes her Lindsey and separates her from her sister, Taryn). I approached her, and she gave me a soft high five; I sat next to her and asked what she was up to, "Just email," she said, and closed the laptop to pay attention to me. There were other girls on the couch, and I noticed that Taryn sat at the opposite end; we acknowledged one another, and I moved to sit in a more central location on the couch. "Why are you here?" Lindsey asked, an obvious question, since we were not in Minneapolis (and yet why they were there seemed clear, though I know they're not anywhere but Minneapolis). I told them, and then lowered my head and voice a bit to convey the greater reason; to meet the girlfriend of the man I want to marry. An audible sigh/gasp came from the girls around me, and remarks of pity began to be made.

"No, no, it's okay," I said. "She seems really sweet."

I wandered back out into the hallway after a bit, and looked out the window (at a building, which I knew housed a woman on the third floor that I'd assisted moving a few months earlier). The trees were bare of leaves, and it was chilly, not cold, and there was no snow on the ground. I would guess it was November. I heard someone behind me; I turned, it was Andy, leaning against the wall. He looked crestfallen, and he was alone.

Something, I understood, had happened between he and Randy.

And that was where the dream ended.

See how banal that is? It definitely serves a purpose for me, because even though it didn't happen in any reality I know of, the effect is somewhat like if it had. Of course, if I ever do meet the girlfriend, it will be a total mindfuck because she almost certainly will be nothing like "Randy".