Saving money on shampoo by not showering

I finally did what I thought I'd never do, what I had said I've never do... what I felt went against who I was, who I am.

I cut my hair. Not just a trim, not just a couple of inches. I cut off 13-14 inches. My hair is shorter than it has been since I was in elementary school. Through my hair, I found a crutch, a security blanket. Something I felt made me different from everyone else. Yet, it's just hair. I let it become me, let it own me, rather than me owning it.

I've been trying to initiate and keep change, good change in my life this year, and letting go of that security blanket was a good thing. Andrew liked my hair long. He didn't want me to cut it and I didn't want to disappoint him. What he thought often outweighed what I thought, which is not right. I need to stand on my own, to find out who I am on my own. And for the first time I am really on my own. I don't have a roommate who I know will provide me with instant socialization, I don't have someone to come home to, I don't have anyone else to remind me to pay bills... though now I don't have to divide those pesky bills in half- even with a calculator, I still didn't get it right. Sometimes I amaze even myself at my shortcomings, however, they can be humorous.

So, I made the decision to cut my hair. It's one I feel good about. I will be donating it to Locks of Love and becoming even more girly. I bought hair products today. A hair dryer, a straightner, a vented brush, some small ponytail holders since I don't have much hair to put into a ponytail anymore, and some headbands for when I feel like really getting into something hardcore. What that will be, I don't know. I hope it involves exercise, but most likely I'll use them when I need to clean my bathtub, which can feel like a vigorous workout if you let the soap scum build up long enough. Perhaps, I shall make a video workout featuring cleaning as the main source of aerobic activity, unfortunately, it would have to involve living in slovenly conditions for a while. Not something I am sure most people would like to do, plus there would be no exercise in between cleanings. Ah, perhaps I should think of a new career possibility.

So, here's to new hair, new beginnings, and being able to style it on my own-hair and all.

Filming the art of reality

I watched a movie tonight called Something New. It was the story of a black woman falling for a white man and how they both had to overcome obstacles in loving someone of another race. For me, I just don't understand how there are any obstacles.

I am open to people. Perhaps to open sometimes and I invite or have invited unwanted attention upon myself. But I do not see color, I do not see class, I do not see education, I do not see money... I see inside. The only reason I ever thought of not being with Andrew was because I didn't know if I would get my parents' approval, which is something I highly value. My parents, being the wonderful, open, and caring people they are, want only my happiness and were okay with Andrew and I being a couple.

Andrew and I are different. He's black and I'm white. He's old and I'm young. He disabled and I can walk. But it extends beyond those obvious differences. He's lived other places in the country. I've never lived farther than three hours from "home." He didn't finish college and I did. He is a musician and no matter how much I try... I will never have perfect pitch or even know how to tune a guitar. He's lived life yet been sheltered by other people. I've been sheltered by other people and myself. But this is about being open to people. I was and am open to Andrew because of what's inside. I fell for his wisdom, for his melodic voice, for his beautiful teeth, for the way he would carress my legs, for the spark I felt in his presence. Because I am open, I did not miss out on a great experience. I don't have to work at overlooking race, religion, ethnicity, socioeconomic status, etc. I don't even see it.

Someone joked about my seduction of Doctor Nordic God and how I wanted him to be my sugar daddy. I found the whole idea of it appalling. I don't want anyone to think that's why I would want a doctor because presumabley he would have money, that's an awful thought. I don't want money. I want love. I want passion. I want laughter, looks, fun, new adventures, new people to meet... no money.

Money doesn't buy passion or love. I am open to people. I am still open to Andrew. I will go to his counseling session with him because if he thinks it will help him, I will be there. I love Andrew and I always will even if we never date again. We will remain friends even if it's one-sided. I want him in my life in some capacity even if it's just to hear his voice on the phone. I find his voice so calming. He just answers the phone with a "Hello" and my nerves stop jittering. My fingers stop figiting, my mind stops racing. So, if he needs something, I shall try to provide, even my presence. Dr. Nordic God is mostly a figment of my imagination, something to fill my thoughts with, something to fill my time with, and something to talk about. I do not know him as a person and in fact, I could possibly hate him as a person. But I will not cut myself off from Andrew because of a fantasy, because of past failures, because of mistakes he made.

I hate burning bridges and Andrew is one bridge I won't let turn to ash.

I am afraid of being alone for the rest of my life. I fear that no one else will love me. But that's not the issue. I must first love myself, which is what Andrew always wanted me to see... that I was loveable, that I should be loved, and that I must let myself be open to love. So... here goes... to being open... even to myself.

I spent lots of money today. It just seemed to slip through my hands, well that little debit card did anyway and my baby animal checks. But most of the money was spent on bills. I'm trying this new fangled thing called responsibility. It's crazy! I also purchased some of my meds, but that's a necessity. I could save so much money if I weren't crazy.

Though, I did buy myself some cd's. I have a new love for comedy cd's. I just love listening to them in the car, laughing so big and loud, hoping I make the people around me wonder what the hell I am doing. I also got a haircut- five whole inches off. I feel like my hair is short since it no longer reaches the top of my pants. But that's silly.

I also got some books and a very cute lunch box that I shall use as a purse or "bag" as I am so inclined to do. I have an "Oreo" snack box that I enjoy using as a purse sometimes. I'm quirky, can't you tell by my choice of luggage?! Eh, sometimes I wonder if I'm not trying too hard, but then it just never occurs to me that I am trying. It's just stuff I like and want to use. Two friends of mine said I have my own style, but this is true of everyone even if their style is an exact replica of someone else's... it's still their own because they have it on. Unless they wear someone else. The new accessory of the 23rd century-Bob. He conveniently fits around your waist or your neck and comes in a variety of flesh tones. Bob is the ultimate accessory for that busy girl on the go. And for the guys- Jane. Jane simple snaps onto any belt creating a one of a kind look with function. Open beer bottles with Jane's teeth and use her hair as a weather vane! Look for Bob and Jane in stores next century!

Andrew asked me to go to one of his counseling sessions with him. I don't know what this means. I'll keep myself posted on this one. I said I'd go, but am not sure if I should and why I should. Oh well, life is interesting.

In other boy news, everyone at work knows I am going after Doctor Nordic God and are trying to help me figure out some moves. One guy even offered to say something to him. I declined the offer having no idea what he would say to Dr. Nordic. I did find out that he is not married and that he does not have a girlfriend. Also, a co-worker informed that he's an excellent doctor and just generally a nice guy. I asked if he was looking for a boyfriend, wondering why such a great guy is still single, but my source say he likes the ladies. I heard he wears a leather jacket. I love leather. Dead cow is super! Dr. Nordic may have gone to school with my aunt, so I think that's my ice breaker the next time that I see him, which if this past week has been any indication may be never.

Bits, its, ts, s

I can't sleep. I haven't been able to sleep all week. It's starting to irritate me. I'm tired. Four hours is not enough for me, even eight hours is too little. A good ten hours of sleep is nice. Any more than that and I wind up even more tired.

I've talked to Andrew a couple of times. Nothing more than just checking up on him and making sure he's okay. I still care about him and want to ensure his safety. We are still friends. He's just not a good boyfriend.

I'm hungry. I'm tired. It's too early for me to be awake and I haven't combed my hair in four days. I can only imagine the pain I'll be in later when I comb it. I'm attempting to seduce a doctor, starting today. ;) Well, that and I need something to fill my time with since Andrew and I broke up. So, seduction seemed more than a necessary activity.

I may go make some pancakes. I like pancakes, especially if they have chocolate chips. You know, wouldn't everything be better with chocolate chips. Maybe then I could eat steak. Or maybe not. Yesterday, I read an article saying that researchers believe your taste for meat is inherited from your parents. I called my mom and asked her who the hell my real parents are. She laughed and said that since I look so much like my father there's really no doubt about my lineage. But then who's my real mom? ;) Just kidding. Hear my mom and I both answer the phone or laugh and you know who my mom is.

I like cereal a lot, too (No chocolate chips though). But I don't have milk. I accidently left it on the table one morning and it got warm. Eww. One night I went to the grocery store and purchased King Vitamin cereal. It tries to be like Captain Crunch but tastes more.... vitaminy. It's really gross and I know I don't like it, but sometimes I just want that yucky flavor.

It ain't about me

I was lying in bed last night aching; I was missing Andrew. I could feel it all over, this intense longing for him. I wanted to know how he was doing, most of all. I broke down at 12:30am and called him. He answered the phone, his sleepy voice calming me instantly. I told him I missed him and he reiterated the statement.

He had a little trouble waking up, but then finally fully came to his senses. I asked him a few questions and he had a few answers. I told him that my view of Wednesday is all that happened was that I was pissed off at my boyfriend and yelled at him because of those feelings. I wondered if he felt it was my fault that he ended up in the crisis center. He said it was partially due to me, but I think it was mostly the past. Because had he not had the past to think on, my actions would have been nothing, upsetting but nothing to cause him to become suicidal. He said there's a long story he needs to tell me but because of the late hour he would have to tell it another time. I added that if he ever had any questions about what happened he was welcome to ask them. He said he'd thought about that and was glad to know he could talk to me.

Then, he asked me to a movie, said when he gets paid the next couple of times he give me some more money, he said he wants to make things right. Make things right when we aren't even together any more, I asked. He said, no just make things right period. So, we'll see if he comes through on that. I will call no more.

I got my answer. He is okay. He'll be okay. There are people looking out for him. I heard his voice and I am glad of it. However, what I am unsure of is if he's asking me to a movie trying to get me back or if we are going as just friends or are we just seeing what happens? He told me that if he could go back and do things, he'd do them the same way... which I had him explain to me. He meant that he would have still been with me and wishes he could still be with me. Sweet sentiment. But if he wants me back, he has to do some major changing and making it up to me.

In other news, I mopped my kitchen and bathroom. Sparkling clean. Not really, but cleaner. :)

Laundry, Love, and Life

It must have been my stylish outfit, the Spam t-shirt, the brown yoga pants, the old worn tennies, and the old black glasses all topped with my hair in a strange bun... I looked hot. This is quite a lie. Or maybe I have a newly single scent, but a man asked me to eat with him at 2am after we both finished our loads of laundry. He waited so he could finish at the same time as I did. He went and got a Mountain Dew as I did, except mine was diet. He struck up some small talk and I went along with it, figuring why not. Revealed nothing real personal, nothing that anyone who looked at my car couldn't figure out: That I work at the hospital. There's a parking permit hanging from my review mirror.

I said I was tired, which I was. But also, he was dirty, the sole of his shoe flopped around, he wore large glasses, and seemed kind of slow. He offered to carry one of my baskets out of the laundrymat, I thought it was cute, sweet even. But I declined his offer. It would have been weird having a stranger touch my clothes, the freshly washed clothes.

I drove home very fast, speeding out of the parking lot to ensure Mr. Are You Hungry could not follow me.

In today's other news, I miss Andrew. I saw him this morning. He came to drop my board game off. He brought another woman with him. At first, I thought he had a new girlfriend already, but then was introduced to one of his friend's wife. I was handed the game and I put a bag into the car that contained a clock made from a 1968 Mustang hubcap. I was going to give it to him for Valentine's Day, but he didn't deserve it then. However, he never really seemed to deserve it ever so I held on to it. But I couldn't take it back so I gave it to him with a little note that read, "I couldn't buy you a whole Mustang, so here is a part of one. The clock represents the time we spent together. " Then I signed my name. I looked into the car one last time, spying his graying mustache through the shadows inside the car. He looked at me and said, "I have to go to work." I said okay and good bye. I turned to walk back into the house hoping he noticed my ass as I walked away.

Almost the End

I couldn't sleep Thursday morning, so I got up at four am and went to the 24-hour laundrymat. I did three loads and was irritated that I hadn't heard from Andrew, so I dropped by his building. The doors open at 6am so I went in and up to his apartment. I knocked and rang the bell, but no one answered. I went back down to my car and proceeded to leave three nasty messages indicating that I was done with him, that I wanted my stuff back, my money back, and I wanted it all done by Saturday. He called around 7am saying he just got home. I didn't ask where he was, figuring it was none of my business. He said he'd put some stuff in a box and that I could come and get it.

He then said, you don't even seem to care where I was, you never asked even after I told you I just got home. I asked where he was and he said he was in a psychiatric crisis center because after we had talked on Wednesday night about the cell phone issue he called his counselor and said some things that made her concerned about his safety. So, he wound up being picked up and taken to the crisis center. I asked him how that conversation led him to breakdown and he said it was because of my demeanor, my tone of voice, and that fact that Kris was in the car with me while we talked, but mostly because it reminded him of the past. I have nothing to do with the past. I am not that other woman who hurt him. I didn't even yell at him. He said I was angry... beyond angry. And I was.

I asked him a bunch of questions: Why was it always me who begged for your time and attention? Why did you ever come up with things for us to do as a couple? Even after I talked to him about how I was unhappy with the time we spent together, for most of it was spent running errands, nothing ever changed. I asked him why he never took me out to the restaurant where my parents got him a gift card for Christmas. I said I knew he didn't have a lot of money, but that he only needed ten more dollars and it would have been a nice date. He said that he'd give me the gift card and my reply was that wasn't the fucking point. I said that he never even offered to pay when we went out, that I always footed the bill. He protested at first saying that he did offer, but when I asked for specific events, he rescinded his protest saying that I was right he didn't. I asked him why it took me breaking up with him and demanding my money back from him for him to pay me back. Ten dollars here and there would have been fine, but he never gave anything back. I told him that I hated going over to his apartment because it's filthy and disgusting. I asked him why he lives in that unhealthy chaos. I told him I gave myself to him and said I'd share my family with him and he wouldn't share with me; I wanted to know why. He had no answers for me. The only words he said were that he was sorry and that he didn't know.

After I asked him why I had to beg him to fit me into his schedule, I started bawling. Heaving, racking sobs that echoed off the walls. He got on the phone and called his counselor stating that he wished to cancel all future appointments. He went into the bathroomw, which is where he keeps his medications. I follow him in, making sure he wouldn't harm himself. I know this has nothing to do with me or me leaving him. I don't think he could care one way or the other about it. Never once has he said don't go or I'll change or let me make it up to you. Nothing. Finally, a plan is decided upon. He is going to the bank to get my money and then in an hour he has to call his counselor back. I try to make sure he isn't going to hurt himself, but he says my name so coldy that I back off. I am not his keeper and this is not my fault. He is not upset about me. Demons haunt him, not me. But I told him that he should know that walking away is not easy for me and that he damn well better not do anything to himself because it is not fair to saddle with that guilt for the rest of my life.

I go home and wait for him to show up with the money. He does. Then says he's not going home and that the police are waiting for him there. His counselor called them. There is an APB out on him. I asked him where he will go and he says he doesn't know that he will try to find a place to call his counselor. I tell him I still love him and he says he loves me. I walk inside.

Later his counselor calls me looking for him and wondering if I know what's going on; if he's upset. He is upset and I am the reason he is upset. She asked if we broke up, I said yes. I explained to her what happened that morning. She thanked me for the information and gave me her number in case I thought of anything else. I called her an hour later wanting to know if they ever found him; they had and he said he was okay.

Fast forward to tonight. I called Andrew because I had forgotten to get the game Scatergories from his apartment this morning. I called to say I wanted it back. We got to talking. He has to go into the psych ward in the morning. He may end up in the state mental hospital. He said that he should have ended things four years ago when he last tried suicide. He said he had planned on harming himself after he left my apartment, but wound up at his counselor's office. He said the state is now in control of his life. But I think to myself, Andrew was never in control of his own life. I again said I wanted answers as to why he treated me the way he did. He said that I didn't care because he was going to end up in Jamestown and losing his job. I said I did care, but that there was nothing I could about it and that it wasn't my fault.

He's bringing me my game in the morning. After I talked to him tonight, I cried for a long time and finally called my mom to console me. I don't know how it will be to see him again tomorrow, but I must be strong for he doesn't want me back. My heart breaks and he only thinks of himself and that I should only have concern for him. Doesn't he know that I am hurting too? Can't he hear the sobs? Yes, I care and don't want anything to happen to him. I wish him no ill will, I merely wanted answers.

Brick Wall

I have decided to end things with Andrew. He will not answer the phone when I call, he will not return my calls. I take this as a declaration that he does not really care, that he cannot own up to his responsibility, and that frankly, he's weak. I've never thought of him as weak, oh quite the opposite, I thought he was so strong and tough willed. Now, I see him as he is... a middle aged man who does not have his life together. His apartment is appalling; it's filthy. He takes more care of his car than anything else. He can't manage his money. He doesn't cook. I wonder after all these months if his family doesn't shun him. He would not speak of his siblings unless I brought them up. He only talked of his mom and dad, two people whom are dead.

I do not regret the time I spent with him. It was a wonderful learning experience marked with some good times. However, I can also see how I let him treat me quite poorly sometimes. He used me. He knew how to play my emotions and he played them well. He's been a musician all his life. Makes me wonder if he didn't play all the other women in his life...

I would like my stuffed monkey, Jake, back-along with a few other things that I have at his place such as some of my baby photos. I need to return a couple of his t-shirts and anything else he'd like back. I can't think of what I have that wasn't given to me as a gift. I never gave him Jake as a gift. He was merely there to watch over Andrew when I was gone. I lent Jake to Andrew when he was ill for a brief while.

I tried, but now I'm done trying. As my mom said, it's time to focus on me.

Fuck Him

I had a dentist appointment this morning, then had lunch with my friend. Afterwards, I went to a credit counselor to work on a budget and to see how I can get out of debt. It was a good meeting and felt fruitful today. I also made a doctor's appointment for tomorrow to see about my diabetes and allergies. I've been ignoring my diabetes far too long and on Wednesday at my psychiatric appointment, she said that by the next time that I come to see her I have to either have an appointment made or have already been to one. So, there we go.

While I was driving to my appointment, Andrew called me. At first, he wouldn't say why he was really calling. Then he said he wanted to talk about cell phones. I figured he wanted something and he did. He wanted me to go with him to the Verizon store. He called me out to the parking lot to help him get out of the car and while he was still sitting in the car he started going on about how cute I am. I became even more suspicious.

Once at the Verizon store, he wanted to look at a specific phone and wanted to talk about getting a plan. He, then, asked me if he could join under mine plan. Two seconds later a salesman walked up. I said that Andrew and I needed a few minutes and that we needed to take things into the hall. I chatted with him, trying to not make a scene, upset that he manipulated me into going to the store with him. I said I didn't like the idea of him being on my plan because there were too many variables: What if we broke up, what if he goes over on his minutes and those charges become my responsibility, what happens if he breaks his contract, and basically that it's my ass on the line if he fails to pay his bill.

I also said that I didn't know if I wanted to stick with Verizon. I can't make cells phone calls at my apartment, nor receive them. They don't even show up as missed calls and the phone doesn't even ring. So, I'm working on trying to get out of my contract. If I got another line added to my phone, what would that do if I did get my contract cancelled. My friend came with me to the mall and I'd forgetten about her. I left her sitting on a bench for twenty minutes. She berated me in front of Andrew and I began to cry, frustrated with the events of the day.

Andrew told me that I could just leave and that he would stay and ask the questions. I said fine and left, obviously upset. When I got home, I left a message on his answering machine (saying that I was very upset by the way he manipulated me into going to the store, by not asking to discuss this in private first, and that he owed me an apology) at home since was going to work right after the visit with the salesperson at Verizon. But a message appeared on my phone from Andrew asking that I call him at his place of employment. I wondered if he had gotten my message already. I called him and he was so chipper, saying that he got all the answers that we needed and that adding him to my plan was a go. I never said that I would add him, just that I wanted more information about the option to add him. He's not very fiscally responsbile and I was and am very leary about adding him. I decided on the car drive home that I would not add him to a plan.

When I called him at his work, I let him know how I felt. I did not hold back. I am very frustrated. He expects me to be his sugar mama. I don't have the money to do that. I am a generous person. If you need money or you really want something, I'll get it for you or loan it to you. But when you keep abusing me, I will cut you off. I always pay for dinner or movies if we go out. I have purchased numerous gifts for him. He even has a gift certificate for a restaurant that my parents gave him at Christmas- he never even took me out. He never got me anything for my birthday- not even a card. He had said we'd go out on Valentine's Day-dinner and a movie, but he wound up having to work and never made make-up plans. He did not get me a Christmas present, but I gave him one.

I told him on the phone that I have never asked for anything from him other than emotional support and that he asks me to carry a further financial burden not twenty minutes after I finished my credit counseling session. What the fuck is he thinking? I've been pushed over too many times. I let him walk all over me and I deserve more.

I was there for him when he was down, I was there for him when he didn't have money, I was there for him when he got fired, I was there for him, and this is how he treats me. Like an errand-girl, like his own private bank where you can make constant withdrawls, but no deposits.

So, I think I am done with him. He's not a healthy relationship. It was a great learning experience, but I can't keep being hurt by him. I asked him to call me so we could talk about this... did he? No. I tried to call him tonight to let him know that I want my monkey back, but he didn't answer his phone. Hiding? Fucking pussy if he is. I have no use for a man who can't be a man. Being a man isn't about dicks and balls, it's about facing up to responsibility, accepting the consequences of your actions, and knowing how to properly love a woman, but more importantly, knowing how to respect a woman.

Paper back

It's a small blue notebook and it was originally meant for Andrew so he could keep track of when and what he ate. But I decided not to give it to him; he is a grown man and should be able to do that for himself. Plus, I wanted the notebook. It has a plastic cover making it durable and it has a small folder first thing inside. It's handy to book. So, I was reading a book one day, just some random piece of fiction I picked up and I came across a word of which I did not know the definition.

So, I opened the notebook and wrote that word down. Other words have come to stand next to that first one and while I haven't looked up the definition yet, I have plans for that little blue notebook. It's going to be filled with words and definitions, with tidbits, with facts galore, and all for me. Whatever sparks my briefest interest, I shall jot it down in the notebook and it's pages shall go from white striped blue to many colors. Many pens and pencils earning their keep by writing down the words that have given me pause. Thus, I shall learn about nearly everything. Fictional books provide much to ponder.

I am excited by this little blue notebook and the information not yet contained in it.

Sunny Days and Skippy Skies

I wore a skirt today. It was a slippery, stretchy black material with some oriental looking stick and flowers embroidered on it. It hit just below the knee and was from a second-hand store. I wore it with a stretchy white t-shirt from Target and some sparkly flip-flops also from Target.

I felt girly, cute even. I enjoyed having my legs be free from pants. I let my toes be free. They were without polish, something I haven't ventured to do for many years feeling that toenails were meant to be blue/green/pink/purple/orange/black/red/indigo/silver rather than their natural color. It's strange to start thinking that it's normal for toenails to be aqaumarine, not merely normal, but required-that some how those without lavender nails were missing out. On what, I'm not sure.

Today, my boyfriend changed my windshield wipers while I sat in the front seat of my car-with the seat reclined, my feet up, and a book in hand. The sense of girliness reached frightning heights unlike my flip-flops. I will never understand high heels, pointy shoes, and tucking your pants inside of boots. It was cute to watch my man struggle with the wipers, to see him work up a sweat trying to get it to stay on. Of course, he can work up a sweat just sitting there. I've never seen any have so much persperation seep out of his head. It's amazing. I'd love to be able to secure the sweat in a specimen container for it to be quantified. It must be pints of water. He soaked an entire comforter once and all the way through a pillow. He was ill, but that should not matter. I've never seen anyone sweat like that.

I like shoes that are shaped like feet. As I think shoes serve a purpose, to protect our feet from the elements. Pointy shoes make no sense. I already have large feet and in order to get pointy shoes that fit correctly, your foot is supposed to end in the shoe before the point even begins. The whole idea of pointy shoes is that it can make your legs looks longer, but really it only makes my feet look longer.

I've never seen Andrew's feet. This bothers me. He's seen everything I have, even things I've never seen (I just don't bend that way). I've seen all of his body except his feet. He's always had socks on and it bothers me. I've mentioned the lack of feet in our relationship, but he only says that he has ugly feet and I wouldn't want to see them. It's not really about seeing his feet, it's about seeing all he has... about sharing himself with me, even if just once. I understood his apprehension when he didn't want me to see him any more than half naked, to see him with more than his shirt off. I've since seen what lies under his black jeans and I'm pleased and accepting. I love the feeling of rubbing my legs against his, with his skin so smooth and hair free. Black men tend not to be very hairy, I've discovered. I teased Andrew one day by counting his chest hairs-29 on each side. ;) But... the feet, I want the feet. Perhaps, it's a case of wanting what I can't have.

Then again, isn't it something I should have? A view of my boyfriend's feet and more skirts so I can bring out the girliness that I desperately try to hide some days. However, I still don't wear make-up. It just looks weird. I tried to wear a scarf in my hair/on my head one day and it was beyond silly looking.

This is the end of this one... I am tired and hungry, a combination that leads to such drivel as this.