lunchtime words

Well, it’s lunchtime again and I have absolutely nothing of importance to share. I do learn more about myself on a daily basis–some of which does not flatter me. I often joke about my awkwardness; the thing is? usually I am awkward-charming; but sometimes I’m horribly reminded that I can delve into a scary state of awkward when I am attracted to someone.  That unfortunately awkward idiot doesn’t know when to shut up and go away and keeps attempting to poke the other person into liking her; it kind of hurts me to watch myself do it.

*stands there; pokes with finger* “like me now?”
*pokes again* “how about now?”
*pokes again* “now?”
*double poke* “better now?”   
*poke* “wait?, where are you going? but I  have more POKING!”

Quick run-down: ‘performing’ for new people I am awkward-charming-funny; performances for me are when I am teaching or even visiting with people/acquaintances/family and I am fucking amazing at it. It took me over 3 decades to realize that performance-piece of awesome, well that isn’t really me. I am pretty comfortable with the me that is too loud, too snuggly, and usually wearing a huge dorky smile while craving physical affection A LOT.  This is the me  you will see I am comfortable and with true friends and loved ones. :).  It was only today that I realized there is a third culprit–a version of me that I am just beginning to understand. If I am sounding a little too schizophrenic; please know I don’t “switch” minds, the different ‘versions’ are me using different behaviors that I am trying understand. Hand to Gods; I didn’t do this on purpose. I have always been attracted to big dudes and have a special weakness for big dudes who are not that excited to be involved in my life. It’s like I can here a celestial voice state, “CHALLENGE ACCEPTED”. And I become a much less attractive version of myself; let me specify – I become much less attractive to myself. So, after this unfortunate enlightenment I feel very, “well, huh. that’s unexpected” about the whole thing. Sheds an unfortunate understanding onto the aching scar of my failed marriage….hell, even sheds a brighter light on the dude who moved to Canada without telling me.

Perhaps dudes over 6 foot 2″ are just my damn cryptonite? *shrugs*

With age comes more wisdom about my past and more frustration with myself by redoing the same dumb crap.

Live, Learn, Fuck Up, Get Older, Keep Living, etc. etc. etc.

*kisses y’all*


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