I just came home from one of the best nights ever. I went with a close female friend, a Euro transplant, as she wants to get married, so she lives here…Anyhoo, it was awesome…
I went to a very upper-class club, met a lot of my pple–well, I know too many pple, but I had such a great time…
For once, I lived, without thinking, hesitating….had fun….Smiled for real! Looked sexy! Felt sexy! (Okay, for all you pop psych. buffs –switch the look and felt.)…
I had one minor drink, but I was feeling really good about me. The real me. The one that opens to u here.
Think this can last? I am scared it will leave.
I am worrying. Hate warts. I will love it, love the photos, and do it again VERY SOON.
Gigi, not remembering the last time she smiled for real–eyes smiling as well as mouth…
Work on Friday was…well, I now remember why I left my job originally! I asked a question that my boss thought was a reiterated querie and he threatened me that if I ask him anything else, I would be going home in a half an hour. Wow. My selective amnesia sickens me. I would cry the last time around–forget makeup for my P.O.W. (place of work=0)
A high point was when I left for the loo, as each floor has one for females, one for males, and the a key that fits into both??? I was thinking the same thing??? Yeah, so when I was in my stall, stalling to go back to the Siberian a/c-ed office, I heard a distinct voice. “Ashley?” I asked, completely touched. “Gigi?” She replied…
I met Ashley in the bathroom, as I met all close friends in high school. .(I didn’t meet Ashley in H.S.–that came out wrong.) A water closet was the place to go when the teacher sent you out, as you did really well scholastically, but she didn’t appreciate you forging relationships instead of forming right angles.
Ashley’s bladder, as well as mine, were on the same…cycle. Okay, don’t scrunch up your nose. We are all adults here. Her wit can match mine, but she is normal. We would exchange witticisms, and she was really the coolest person I met at my job, with the exception of the HMG(Hot Married Guy), but I don’t go near those. I know G-d retaliates.
Work isn’t terrible. I put on a white tee, and with my fake tan–a cross between an orange and cinnamon….I want to find a man.
Let’s go…Anyone reading this and “feeling me”? Come on….I know your scared. I am scared of me too.
This is a leap of faith….
(…and if YOU end up hurting ME, I will be really sad, so think ten times before liking me.)
I cannot believe I just did that. Again. That is sick.
Gigi, on the merry-go-round that is her life
I am up earlier than the sun and I wonder why I don’t go over to the nearest Rooster Trailer Park and wake ‘em up. Rather have some company here. What I am writing you now is probably going to shock you. I think you should be sitting and not hold any hot beverages.
I sleep in a twin bed. Yep. One roll in the wrong direction and I am looking at the floor. I manage to like the wall, and sticking to that side, curled up in a fetal position.(Freud would have a field day with that.) I. Live. At. Home. With. The. Parents. That you knew though, already. Which is why….I took the pride, threw it into the discard pile, and took back my old job. Enough sob stories. I have to move out of here. I am an adult. I have bills to pay, even if it means working in the city for just enough to pay bills and save a minute fraction in my piggy bank–I am independent now.
I worked yesterday, came home on the subway, and avoided the woman screaming Bible Passages to the voices in her head and the weary passengers, 3/4 of whom had their ears stuffed with earphones for their MP3 Playa Of Choice.
How can I play when this Cinderella lives under her parents’ roof?
Gigi, completely into the lucite platforms this season…Where art though, my prince??
I did it! One step for Gigi, may seem like a tiny step, but it is a huge leap for a normal homosapien. I overcame the fear last night. It was: emotional, touching, one of the best evenings in my life…..
And then, I broke up with 22 yr. old as I don’t wan’t emotions to run deep if there can’t be a we. I wish there could be. I am heartbroken. He was crying last night. I couldn’t…No one cared for me as he did… I can’t seem to come up with a conclusion–and age isn’t the only factor.
I warned him before anything started that I would rather be numb than feel…
He wanted to feel.
It overshadowed the original evening’s triumph.
He is so special, but I am a realist.
I won’t say I told you so to him…
But I really need a hug now.
I miss you, my friend…No one cared for me the way you do…
Gigi, for the first time feeling love and loss, but the phone is so tantalizing…
I felt something today that I never felt before. I was proud of myself. I am usually so down on myself, and the perfectionism, in addition to the self esteem no being anywhere near room temperature doesn’t help much.
I usually run from confrontation. I am afraid of goodbyes, so I hide. I am an adult, and I fear to stand my ground, lest the ground I stand on give way to an abyss that I “shoulda known” and “whatta loser”– because Gigi should know Gigi will not be liked, will fail, isn’t the best….insert the stupidities.
Today, I decided to stand up and go against fear, and sadness of saying goodbye…I know I am being vague, but I just am, as I am scared that you will all know me suddenly(i fight my battles one at a time)…Suffice it to say, I took a leap of faith…and I fell into G-d’s arms.
As disgustingly sweet as the old Gigi wouldv’e thought that sounded, it’s true. I tried. I am going tonight to face people–most that I care about and care about me, but some that know that I failed at a point in my life. I am going because I choose to be there when people I love achieve greatness.
I sit here crying, you are sitting there, puzzled.
For once, I am proud of me.
Gigi, dealing with this evening one minute at a time….And will work on each fear, even those imagined, will try to battle….
I am happy you guys are reading this–Whomever u are. I feel you are rejoicing with me.
With clammy hands, I leave the house…
Have a splendid night.
Last night, 22 year old and I had “The Talk”. Not about the facts of life, though I am pretty aloof around him, yet about how I am in a place in my life where I cannot support the both of us while he is in Graduate School. I have lived too long a life….I don’t have the strength to start again…
I am not looking for a billionaire who will have a black AmEx card(though I wouldn’t protest it), fly on lear jets, and give my fingers a hernia with the huge weighted bling he bedecks them with.
I just don’t wan’t to have to be afraid of where the next rent payment, utilities, etc… will come from….
I told him some of the details of my life…the rough stuff, a drop in the bucket really, and I looked down at my lap as I spoke because I had tiny tears in my eyes. He listened, and I looked at him, and he had tears in his eyes. He made a comment the other day about “feeling my pain”. Sad thing is–he is sincere. He then proceeded to give me a huge hug and a kiss.
He is a bit shorter than me too, which sounds minute and ludicrous in comparison to the rest that is working against me….
Gigi, Questioning…Always Questioning…