sigh

Ok, time to take a big collective sigh from the world.

Now that we've sighed, let's hold our breath until our lungs explode. Alright, you don't have to, but I just might.

And that was not a sigh of relief. That was a sigh of sadness, depression, heartsickness, feeling lonely, and just wanting to be loved.

dun dun dun!

Now, sigh in relief!

I've been skittering around the house all week feeling the worst of depressions. I also have had to pee a lot. But that really shouldn't be that much worth mentioning. Maybe it should. Who knows? Certainly not I.

I do find myself quite happy now. That may be completely and 100% due to the fact that I'm talking to Armyguy. Sexy, hot, handsome, charming, not eaten by camel spiders, army guy.

So I think I love him. Forget about that one guy who I talked to that one time. He's a douche face anyways. And he's also terribly shadey. And a grammer nazi. And shallow. And a complete douche.

Let's not get unhappy here.

Letting my brain roam free in pastures of imagination.. or something along those lines. whatever.

Last Afternoon I had my very first margarita (virgin-- peach) and vegetarian burrito with one of the coolest chicks (Miss. Kendra) I know. It was pretty much the coolest day I've had in a while, and it was much needed.
I do need more afternoons like that to weed out my brain from guys problems and just focus on the cute guys with great butts we see passing by.
The transit being an exception of course. We spent a total of two hours on those buses. Half an hour of one it was pretty funny (to me at least. Poor Kendra had some guy with sunglasses on staring right at her the whole time. I'm sure he was just admiring, of course, his moobs were totally nipping).
So, hunky guy and I talked Thursday night and it was completely devoid of pervvy thoughts-- well, on his part anyways. oh well, thus is ramblings of my inner most thoughts, which really don't provide as much insight as per usual.
Anyways. I really can't get that a*shole of an ex boyfriend I have out of my head. Like a weed
he just won't stop popping up.
I really do feel terrible about it though, not that I want to get back with him, I just want the petty things to end.
Mr. Heartbroken sobby sob won't stop playing the pity card. It's really annoying now. ah well. w/e, right?

I must say though, crappy ex's aside, I'm totally swooning over a guy I'm never going to see again (and that's ok, I do have imagination) ;]

and the world takes a collective sigh, but wait!

So, the angels looks down upon my from their cloudy perch in the heavens and decided to smile upon me.
Yes, that's right. They had him call. I love angels.
So, no, he's not dead.
and no, he's not disinterested in me.
and no, he's not being gnawed on by camel spiders.
Am I on cloud nine right now?
well no, not really.
He called, but stupid me was hyped up on so much "omg, my life is amazing!" that I accidentally tripped and fell into a, um, conversation with a friend. We'll call him Hunky Dude.
Well, hunky dude and I talked about A LOT. and a lot wasn't so innocent. which puts me to shame.
I love my army man. That is what I've decided. I promised not to leave him and I'm not going to just because hunky dude is well. . . hunky.
sigh.
Why... WHY?!?!
Why after a miracle happens, something like this comes up? Just to tangle and mash up all of my feelings.
Kind of like putting them into a bottle and shaking it, kicking it, putting it on a leash and dragging it on a walk, taking a shower with it, doodling all over it, biting it, putting more feelings into it, shaking it again, dancing with it, smearing mashed potatoes all over it, letting a baby pee on it, and so on and so forth.
Silly ecta. What's wrong with me?
everything darling. everything.

Take this into consideration for a bit

So, here's my problem. I'm currently involved with a man deployed out in Iraq. I might as well tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth because it's not like I personally know any of you.
anyways.
Back to the problem.
Mr. Army Hunk and I met online, from there I added him on my messenger and we started talking. For a ferw months I really didn't take any weight into getting to know him until one day, he surprised me with a "Hey, wanna go on a roadtrip?"
This all lead down to loving relationship lane.
Well, here's the thing about loving relationship lane:
1) You have to have met the person. Only heavens knows if their not playing you along.
2) You have to be -ready- for a relationship that demands commitment.
3) At all costs, keep your cool on loving relationship lane.

At all three things I've mentioned, oh ho ho, I've failed.
I haven't met him personally, I just got out of a heart breaking relationship, and I'm not keeping my cool!
Currently: This blog is a vent and portal of all my fears and thoughts. You've been sucked in and therefore have been submitted to whatever the hell I'm doing. Cool with this?

So, Mr. Army Hunk and I haven't made contact in about four days.
Why is this a problem?
because I'm all of these:
1) Worried he might be dead and big huge camel spiders are crawling all over him.
2) Doubting our relationship-- What if he says the things he says to me to another chick on his msn? Am I being strung along?
3) Do I really love him? I feel so very strongly about him but how do you feel love?
4) Very very lonely and sad. Last week was rough and I really needed someone to talk to.

oh!
More vent!
Last week:
So Wednesday and Thursday were finals days. Hurrah for stupid tests that are easier than hookers on sale in the armpit of Idaho. Really.
So I took my Floriculture final (and aced it thank you very much) and started signing my friends yearbooks.
A few minutes into that Amanda (also known as douchette, which is her name from here on out)
tells me to start looking up to the white board. I grumble and continue signing the yearbook, paying no heed to said white board. So for the next ten minutes this pestering continues and my patience wanes. I finally look to Douchette and she's grinning-- bigtime. She instructs me to look at the white board in which I finally do. On it I see a paper plate. And not just any paper plate, it was a very ugly paper plate with an ugly face on it with an ugly smile and ugly hair. With a perplxed expression on my face I wonder why she is telling my to look at this. And then I see my name with an arrow pointed at the plate.
This shouldn't really be a thing for someone the cry about but when you try so very very hard to look your best each day and slap on a smile, it gets really really hard not to. I cried in my mothers arms to say the least.
Douchette got a nice laugh out of the "expression on my face" and the next morning commenced in telling my that I had a huge ass. Which makes no sense, I'm a size six and she's a size sixteen. Really, what sense does that make?!?!
anyways, to condense it all together.
I am very very sad and lonely.