They say sex is just sex, no big deal. Still, I keep thinking sex is a big thing, as I said a complete abandonment of self, a proof of unyielding trust. You don't have sex with just one person, indirectly you do it with every person they have had sex with.

Years ago I thought I had found a guy who I could trust to have a nice first time (maybe even romantic). We were friends for about four years before anything happened. It crushed me to realize he was just the biggest jerk ever, it crushed me for years.

I'm sick of guys. It's probably just that I've been single for a long time now. In Mexico it's not the usual thing to say you are 'dating' (as just going out on dates) with a guy...you are in a relationship or not. So basically, yours truly thinks like a dude and has managed to keep herself a virgin but no saint.

I feel sick of this whole thinking about someone else all the freaking time. I'll stop pretending that he does know just how to touch me. Plus, that will make the goodbye less dramatic when it's time.

So yesterday...I reread it and I'm a bit ashamed, I sound soooo selfish!

I think is just that he is not the guy for me. I think I won't mind sharing my time and thinking about someone else 'all the freaking time' when I really like the guy, when I'm really comfortable with him. I guess that's why part of me has always thought I'd end up marrying a guy who's been my friend.

I do have a guyfriend who I don't think I'd mind thinking about all the time and sharing my time with. Only a distant possibility.

Well, this guyfriend of mine...I met him about eight years ago. He knows just about everything important about me and I know just about everything important about him.

I feel at ease when I'm with him, like things are just right. We've been just friends all this time, although we've kissed three or four times, on our birthdays. He's seen me happily drunk and taken care of me, I've seen him happily drunk and taken care of him.

I like him, I think there's a possibility, but I'm not sure he sees in me what I see in him.

Today I want to be sunkissed
feel the heat of his touch
and blame it on the sun.

Today I want to walk in the rain
fell the puddles in my toes,
walk on wet grass and fall.

Today I want to dance
but not dance alone,
feel the movement on my feet.

Today I want to laugh
with someone witty to talk to,
with someone nice.

Today I want to be challenged,
I don't want deep and meaningful
I want superficial and fun.

Today I don't want to over-think things,
I just really want to feel wind like free in my own skin.

On dumping people

Giving a vague explanation that ensures a healthy amount of short-living hate is a must. The vague explanation makes the other feel hurt and betrayed, thus the hating starts. It's not serious hate, it's more of an extreme dislike for the other. This healthy hate warranties the dumpee will not stalk you to try to get you back. The dumpee feels that in light of new discoveries (how big a jerk/bitch one can be) an extra dose of dignity is necessary. No begging, no calling afterwards just a good breakup.

Now, let the dumping process begin!

Bigelow, bungalow,
Hoppity, happity,
Mikitsi, matsuli,
Jumgaty, jungala,
Rofri, rotri,
Turum, taram.

Here it starts.
He'll leave me alone,
he won't try to look back.
I'll be just fine without him in my life,
I'll find a new guy.

Rofri, rotri,
Turum, taram,
Hoppity, happity,
Jumgaty, jungala,
Mikitsi, matsuli,
Bigelow, bungalow.

He'll think I'm not nice,
He'll find someone new
He'll do better in life.

Mikitsi, matsuli,
Bigelow, bungalow,
Rofri, rotri,
Hoppity, happity,
Jumgaty, jungala,
Turum, taram.

He won't stalk me,
he'll say "it's been nice"

Mikitsi, rotri happity, jumgaty, taram, matsuli, bigelow, jungala, hoppity, turum, chachity, patchity, kikity, kikity buah!

So, the elephant in the room refuses to leave. I guess I'm still 'unspoiled' and, it feels like such a burden!

My guyfriend presented me with the solution I'd found on my own a gazillion times. I need a guyfriend to become my boyfriend. That way, I'll be less warded and plain old afraid of the consequences.

I just, I'm stupid and I want a guy who'll make sweep me off my feet. Someone who'll bring such ease and excitement that I won't think. It happened once, I bared myself of all defenses and got epically hurt by a 'friend'.

So this guy brought me down to my basics and then well, let's just say he behaved like the jerk I never thought he could be.

I guess I'm sick and should stop watching so much TV, movies and reading too much. I guess I do like a pinkish approach to life. You know, the whole "I'll know he's mine, he'll know I'm his".

I've stopped really looking some time ago, "what's meant to be is meant to be" sounds more soothing and hopeful everyday. I just...I'm a bit tired of getting jerks. I'm done pinkifying guys.

I should write about something else. I sound like a teenager writing about my so called lovelife which is nothing so far but a string of faded, washed away heartbreaks.

I just feel lost. I see my friends in bliss, in love...I turn green with envy. I don't want to be green, I'm not Elphaba, I can't pull it off.

It seems it's not just something meant to be yet.

I guess I'll have to look for that bliss within myself, in my life, as things are now, that's what I have to work with. I'm young and free.

So I bought something 'expensive'. I bough a sewing machine.

My mission for the following months will be to actually use it. I'll see what I can do. I have this Bridget Jones' moment in which I'm like having a feeling I'll be a genius in the sewing machine.

I want to believe I can make myself a super master of the sewing machine. I want to do it. I want a distraction, a big hobby.

I want to keep my mind of useless things, I want to keep myself relaxed and focused. I want to surprise myself this time.

So far no sewing genius has appeared...the machine is still in its box. It will be at least a month before I have the time to get it opened and get started.

Still, I'm excited. I have a project, I have an objective. It's not career oriented, it's not about a job. It's something I genuinely want to do for myself.

I want to feel gracious and creative. I want to feel like I'm taking advantage of my time and advantage of what I can do. I want to learn something new, something I'll have fun with. We'll see.

He had it coming ♫
He had it coming ♪
He only had himself to blame ♫
If you'd have been there ♪
If you'd have seen it ♫ (Cell Block Tango - Chicago)

I met him on the course. I liked him, I flirted. A mere month and a half later I found myself with a boyfriend.

Looking back it was plain bizarre. It was "I like you", "Me too", smooch, bam! I'm someone's girlfriend. Wait, what?

That's number one: commitment before trust and plain old friendship or informal dating. Sucks.

Two: there's my schedule. Busy from 8am to 10pm. Weekends are dedicated to friends and family.

Three: I was single for 4 years. I wasn't happily single all the time, but I got by all right. I'm seriously out of practice.

Four: I feel pressured to, well, give it up. To be honest I get all freaked out when he insists, my every instinct is just against it right now.

                                               //*\\

Last night the dumping happened. I thought it would be different, easier. I was so wrong. I do like him, and I was also falling for him. We both cried and hugged. It was...heartbreaking.

He asked me to think about it some more, he pleaded I changed my mind. I was firm, I was decided. I wanted out and surprisingly my busy schedule didn't show up on the reasons why.

Update: So I'm starting my recovery. I didn't see this coming, as I said, I thought it would be easier.

Still, I have a lot to do, and I guess it will be in my recovery when my busy schedule will help a little. I 'll still see him everyday most likely, but I have much on my plate right now, I guess I can cope and kind of try to ignore it more easily...I only hope.

                                                // * \\
To avoid being so diary-like in here I'll set rules for my contents:

1 diary entry
1 opinion
4 creative / poem
1 world

per week

My life has been, as I mentioned a routine. It's all work and work related during the week. Weekends are the only time I can really call mine, but not anymore!

In about two weeks the current module for my mechanics course will end. I'll have a couple weeks to myself. The next module starts in August, I'll enroll again. Still I want to think it will be easier to cope.

But for two weeks I accepted a plea. He asked me to give him two weeks to let go and say goodbye. I don't want to say goodbye either.

Well, I've changed my mind, about the course, not about the last guy.

I won't enroll again on August. I'll wait for another cycle to start and I'll take the course then. Last night I got an offer, a gym membership for the equivalent to about 20 American dollars a month.That is about half regular price here.

By December I should have then a new wallet and purse (made by me), a firmer body, a couple new pieces of furniture in my room, and a nicer car (I'll fix my current car), plus I'd have seen Aerosmith in concert.

Well, I hate being poor. I'm not really poor, I'm just, let's say not that financially relaxed.

Turns out two singers I really, really like will be on tour this year and will get relatively close to where I live. But it also happens that I won't be able to go see any of them both. I got so excited about Aerosmith that I got a special deal with my supervisor to have those days off, and well, now that I've got tickets I still have the plane to pay for, plus hotel.

I wish I was rich and selfemployed.

Why would it be that we can't see what we do. Why is it that revenge is justice when we are the ones doing it?

I was reading heroic stories about 9/11. I can't say that reading those stories made me want to cry.

As a Mexican young adult female my opinion on the matter might be considered selfish, inconsiderate and cruel. I was in NYC about a month ago, for the second time, and avoided the Ground Zero. Seeing tourists climb on the subway with souvenir bags form the gift shops set up there was disturbing for me.

Setting a gift shop in a place supposed to commemorate a grieving time, a major wound in the US self-confidence and opinion of themselves...why did anybody think it made sense?

The consequences of the attacks have been great. I was 15 when it happened. I knew war was coming. I do understand the right to defend your people but, why is it that nobody sees the US has become to the civilians caught in the midst of wars the same as the Taliban became for the US? I'm 23 now, and the US is still at war, why?

I'm asking for too much.
I want a more exciting job,
a guy who can almost read my mind,
an adventure, a chance,
a change.
        I'm asking for too little.
My soul feels stinky and stagnant,
my feet hurt, they aren't walking,
my lips are broken, full of passion,
        void of feeling.
My arms are tired, they are empty.

I shouldn't ask, but claim, demand.
I deserve it. I've been good all my life,
always did what I should,
now I want to do what I want.

Evolution gave you a set of brows
that move with every phrase you say,
and every emotion you don't want to show.

Your mother gave you such a set of eyes
that command and ask,
        they kiss and touch,
they liquefy my brains, my will, my flesh.

Your father gave you those strong arms
to sweep me off my feet,
break my fall, hold, console, command.

The women before me
taught you how to make my skin crawl.
How to make me tremble,
        when to tease.

You are silly beyond words.
You make all better or worse.
You come, stay, then go.

A fire burned,
I could see the smoke.
I saw the flames climb higher
red and orange, furious against the dark skies.

A fire burned,
I could feel the heat.
I saw the birds fleeting,
screeching against the wind.

A fire burned
and still I walked towards the fire,
            mesmerized,
the wind was cool,
the fire was dancing, shining,
fighting against the dark.

A fire burned,
and I walked inside.
The flames danced around me.
I was hypnotized.
I stretched my arm to catch a flame.
I could smell the flesh burning.
and the blisters bubbling.
            I stretched the other arm.

He used to call me in the middle of the night.
He used to tell me he missed me.
He used to pass out on the phone.
He used to kiss so tenderly.
He used to see me when she wasn't in town.
He told me he liked me, he cared.

I used to have high hopes about him.
and when it all came burning down in flames
I wrote a book for him.
I still have it at home.
I dreamt of him last night.
I couldn't breathe.
I don't want to see him again,
I can't say I regret.

A friend asked me out. Well, he kind of asked me for permission to ask me out. It may sound weird to non-Mexican ears but it is normal. He asked if he could give me a call to see me.

I smiled.

I liked the whole feeling of 'I'm single again and I can go out with anyone'. I'm happy he asked, even if he hasn't called.

It's Wednesday, he asked on Saturday night. He is working crazy hours, so my guess is he might call over the weekend.

I've seen something in him since we met. We'll see.

I stared blankly at him,
he just stared back.
His eyes, shinny and a striking shade of blue;
a tone I’ve grown used to.

I talked to him sometimes,
he never, ever replied.
He just stares at me,
sometimes he’d smile,
sometimes he looked more flirty,
or he looked plain sad.

I touched his face, his hair,
silky and smooth.
He never touched me.
I used to steal a kiss back then,
but he never kissed me back.

The day came I put him in that box.
His flirty looks, his blue eyes,
he lays in that box.

If he reaches for you in times of need,
if he says it all, when he is respectful and flirty.
        When he says you’re the best friend he’s got.
If he calls you often,
if you go out and end up spending hours talking with him.
           When he says is about time you get a nice guy.
If he opens the door for you and takes the bill.
If you have a nickname for him he also used for you.
                When you are close enough for a kiss but your body doesn’t burn up.

Then, you know you are friends.

"I'm most likely younger than you, remember I'll be unprepared, green and too opinionated for my own good."

That seems to be the sign that hangs from my neck all the time at work. I work in an environment of people about ten years older than me. The result: passive aggressiveness all the time on both sides.

It's as if having been married, divorced, having kids and a house of one's own is what would actually prepare me for my job.

I guess there's something irritating and spitting in seeing someone starting their professional career where you are finishing yours.

How long before I screw it up? How long will it take you to have deep feelings?

How long before I screw it up? I give it a few months.

How long until you think it's about time we take this on bed?
Brace yourself, that's likely the end.
When you insist, when you are hungry for it.
That's when I'll panic, when there will be no turning back.

I keep my luggage by the door. I won't stay any longer than I want to. I start thinking about the next Hello as I wave Goodbye.

I want new faces.