Hell yeah.

Well, folks, it's Friday. I don't think I've been this happy to see Friday come along in months. I think it's the first Friday I haven't had to work in months, and damn that feels good. I think it feels exceptionally great because this whole week I spent dreading Friday because I had to work, until someone requested to switch with me. It feels so good that I'm spending the entire night with no one but my dog and some martinis. Which, is ironic...when I'm at work on a Friday or Saturday night, all I can think about is what I would give to be going out like the people I'm waiting on are doing. Then I get the chance, and all I want to do is be home with my dog. I think it's the fact that my work involves basically going out (I just happen to get paid for it and it involves going out with 200 drunk half-naked strangers). I don't even have the familiar feeling that I'm missing out on something, that I should be out doing something fun and exciting. I love that feeling (or, non-feeling). That's the thing about me, sometimes I think I'm happier just being with me.*

--------------------------------------------------

*Give me a few minutes, that statement will most likely be retracted. After all, I am human, and damn if I don't like me some human touch.

In need of repair.

I would take my heart being broken into a thousand pieces to not break another person's heart.

Two years ago, my heart shut off. The little light went out and it stopped ticking the second he walked off my porch. And the thing is, I'm afraid it might not work again. In the past two years I've met a couple of incredible, fantastic, intelligent, life-changing, caring, funny, genuine individuals who care for me more than I deserve...and I've been blessed to have them come into my life in more than one way. I am more honored then I can express that they are willing to give themselves to me, willing to take the risk of a broken heart in the hopes that somewhere along the way mine will be wound once more. It's an honor that humbles me, frustrates me, and worries me all at once. In the end, I can't give them what they so freely give to me, and I'm the one causing pain. Causing someone ache and saddness is a pain that's unbearable.

I don't know how to get my heart to open up again. The thing that is strange is that I want it to more than anything and I'm willing to take the pain of risking loss to just feel again. I have so much love to give, and it's boiling up inside as the inability to let it free continues.

Also at lunch...

it was decided there were two types of people in this world: the ones that love the popcorn jelly bellys and the ones who hate them.

After that declaration, I poured myself a handful of butter popcorn jelly beans as my friend commenced puking.

Which are you?

And we wonder why local music shops are closing down.

I just went into a music store on Thayer St., Tom's Tracks, to re-purchase the Ray Lamontagne cd. Since my previous purchase has expired its amount of copies allowed and somehow I gave away my very last copy, I figured I'd support the artist while simultaneously supporting a local music shop and buy it at Tom's. I go in and go directly to the used section because, really, as much as I want to support him, I'm not made of money, so why pay full price? While searching for Ray under the R's (that's how long it's been since I've been in record store; I forgot that, unlike iTunes, they still categorize by last name), my friend and I discuss the various musical interests, including my observation of how there is a ridiculous amount of phil collins cds for some odd reason...shouldn't they have all been out of circulation by now, or at the very least, burned in protest? I then turn around to look for Ray in the new release section and the owner/salesperson asks as he peers over his low-resting glasses, "Are you looking for something special?" I reply, "I'm looking for Ray Lamontagne?" And he says, with the upmost attitude that I don't think I could ever do justice to without you seeing the disgust that came across his face, "Well, I can tell you now that it wouldn't be where you were looking, that's for sure." Um, okay. "Besides, we don't keep very many of them in stock because they don't go very quickly, but if we were to, it would be in new releases, NOT where you just were." Then he had the nerve to ask me if he could help me with anything else. I said, "No Thanks." And as I was walking out the door I said loudly to my friend, "No wonder they don't do any business."

And folks, for those of you who don't know me, that's about as confrontational as I can get. And now if you'll excuse me, I have to download Ray from iTunes (I can't use Limewire at work...or at home as I am the last person on earth to still have dial-up). I've been going through withdrawel, and we can't have that.