My life as the Patron Saint of What’s Her Name

it was a rock star weekend. my first free one in weeks! I sang Jackson at karaoke with Joe, hung with Shane two nights, had coffee with the redhead, got some serious facetime in with MGirl and the rest of the tribe. ALMOST saw Gert, Numskullery and Elephantsoap…next time ya’ll…next time.

so yesterday my computer,my iBook, went to the great iBook farm in the sky. Pretty sure. so I hooked up my new/old PC from the bookshop, and Joe came over and made things move faster and smarter and I’ve been trying to remember passwords and code names and ridiculous things that my brain, after this weekend, should never have to remember.

I had a great time. With friends new and old. Funny thing though…I’ve become the patron saint of the love life for the girl that….what did she do? oh yeah. she smooth out threw me under the bus and went out with that last guy who’s name I will not type here. GAH. OtherGirl was what we began to call her. And in hindsight…what with the whole confessional with him last month and picking the scabs,and the surviving and the band aids that come in the same flavor of hair color…well…things have been ok. Civil. and even better.

Because I chose.
I chose to just be friends with her.
it’s a small town, this one that capitalizes The Plains.
and we revolve around the same group and will eventually work in and breathe the same air. So…whatever. Bless it and let it go.

and now…NOW I’ve got guys calling out of the fucking wood work.

about her.

what should I do.
when should I call.
that really pissed me off. does she? doesn’t she?

and the thing is, I enjoy and really like the guys. and parts of OtherGirl, I enjoy as well. I was honest as shit about her shady side with one of the fellows and he seems to feel that attractive.

AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGG.

how it it people?
how IS IT?
she’s this ok looking, decent body, better personality, yet SHADY. SLIM SHADY…SHADY kinda girl. and she’s batting them off with a fucking fly swatter.

and I’m not pining over the guys that are fawning. Not at all. I’m merely observing and continiously amazed that these girls GET THE GUYS!!!

crazy…party of one, your table is now ready.

I don’t get it.

we all have crazy. that’s a given. It’s what it is…till it isn’t. . . heh. then it’s something else. profound, I know. but seriously, fellas. The three of you that read here at the Circus…WHAT IN THE FUCKING ASS FUCK IS THE THRILL????

so somehow I’ve become the touchstone. The bitching post about her. call me. text me. unload. I’ll advise and send you about your business with a wishbone and the pink parts of a live chicken. good luck to ya. I mean, really, we all want it to happen, right? We do. but fuck around. why do I have to make it happen FOR HER????

what’s next.

my life has been good here at the Circus. I’ve been emailing with a friend who lives in the future. That’s been enlightening and fun. I’ve been getting used to a PC as opposed to a Mac. That’s been wonky. I’ve been rearranging my furniture and hanging up all my clothes. The cats are happy with the weather. Stormy Soprano is eating off all the matts out of his fur. Ok. Live continues.

Now that my computer situation is more stabalized, I’ll be back. I’m not boycotting. Just been otherwise unavailable for consultation.