You made me cry

There aren't many things that can make me cry, but having my heart broken is one of them. True, it doesn't happen too often, since I try to protect myself against such things by putting up walls. But every once in a while, those walls come down and that's when I leave myself vulnerable for others to take advantage of me.

When I'm hurt by people I care(d) about, I don't want to see, hear, or talk to them. Thinking of them brings back memories - good and/or bad. I already have to deal with family, friends, my firm and client responsibilities (not to mention the chores of daily life), so the last thing I want scratching at the back of my mind is of the people who made me cry.

And because they can't look past their own wants and needs, they think I hurt them, while all the time, the reverse is true. It's funny, since so many people think I'm heartless or have one made of stone.

For those people who hurt me, I say this: I hope your act of selfishness makes you temporarily happy because there will come a day when you'll be as heartbroken as I was and you'll know how I felt when you made me cry.

Those words mean nothing to me

On a night out with a friend of mine, I receive a text from J. I wasn't expecting anything from J; I usually instigate the texting between us.

You're taking my style of pictures now! Haha

This is referring to a picture I published on my Facebook wall of a ripped torso (mine). My reply was one of those non-committal blurbs saying it's something that's been seen before.

I mean, talk about instant hard on

Now, I'm a little more playful with my response. To paraphrase: it's here for you.

I'm gonna try and visit you asap, btw

Here is where I got optimistic. Could this be true? Would J really come and visit me? The trip isn't too far; a couple of hours by car. But, what if these texts are just that? Texts, nothing more. A game between someone who plays them and another person who lays their cards on the table. When I discover J is in a relationship, all bets are off.

So I take a note from Sex and the City and did what Carrie Bradshaw did to Big's - long time in the making - voicemails when she hears them upon her return home: delete, delete, delete.

Those words mean nothing to me, anymore.

LDR = loser, dolt, retard

Even though I'd like to think I'm an intelligent person, there are times when I see the mistakes I've made in believing others are as smart as I am.

When it comes to matters of the heart (or brain, depending on how you look at it), I thought I would be on the same page as those who are feeling the same as I do. It's not always the case.

Sometimes they show interest for entertainment, for show, or for fun. Sometimes they are interested, but only for a moment. Those who are interested for longer then a thought, don't have the balls to follow through (and if they do, it's with someone else).

All of that I can overlook unless it's a situation where they become develop a LDR with someone else when you live closer to them then they do to this other person. What sort of relationship is that? How are you dating someone when you hardly ever see them? If that was the case then I'm dating several people right now.

So, why do I keep on letting things like this happen? Possibly because I think there are others in the world who feel/think like I do and will act accordingly. As it turns out, there aren't.

In the end, I came up with another acronym for LDR. The original is the short form for long-distance relationship. I think it should mean loser, dolt, retard. True, those letters can stand for other negative terms, but considering the time I spent thinking about them, I think they're appropos.

LDR. Not fun.

Notches on my belt

Belts are designed to hold up your bottoms, whether they’re pants, skirts or shorts. But, they only work if you have enough holes in them. And, that’s where my problem comes into play...

Recently, I haven’t been wearing them unless I had to dress formally. When I threw one on, I realized it wasn’t working properly. Or, I thought it wasn’t working properly. As it turns out, there weren't enough holes in my belt even though my father made extra ones.

Belts are typically sized for waists ranging from 30-to-42 inches. Those who fall outside of those parameters, need to go to a specialty store. Since I don’t have the time to go to the local anorexic shop, I’m going to have to wear belts that don’t work... or gain 20 pounds to have a belt that fits me, again.

That last option will only come into consideration as a last resort.

Recycling Nazi

Whenever I have to go put something in the trash, I separate everything before it goes into the bins. Upon entering the garbage room of my building, I see that many people aren’t as considerate.

Most people tend to put anything in the containers. It doesn’t matter if you can recycle it, or not. It’s all mixed. You have to wonder if they can’t differentiate between materials. Even if they can’t read English, each plastic bin has pictures on their outside lids of what is supposed to go inside of them.

I take a little bit of pride in separating my trash. Paper, plastic, aluminum, cardboard, etc. are all put into their own sections to make it easier for those at the plants who have to rummage through it all again. If I can help them out in their messy line of work, then I will. Hell, I even cut out the see-through windows from envelopes.

But, looking inside the bins when I open the lids drives me up the wall. It makes me wonder why I should bother to put in any effort if others don’t. It’s not about being sanctimonious, but about the environment and the bettering of society. Fuck. Some people are just trash.

Antioxidants and vodka

Does the power of an antioxidant drink turn into a cocktail when copious amounts of vodka are added?