Conversations I still need to have...

I have no business being on here with the amount I have to do this week.
SO. Instead of procrastination-writing, I will share a post from Stephanie Klein. She lives in Austin and I wish we would just bump into each already and become instant friends. Or at least that she wouldn't think I was crazy when I blurted that out to her...because I totally would. "OMG you're Stephanie Klein and you are an awesome writer and I have curly hair too, see? and your kids are freaking adorable and how's Phil feeling these days and can we please go get cocktails and no I'm not following you to your car, that's not what's happening at all."
Yeah. I think it would be kinda like that.

Happy Halloween, folks.

This isn't really my holiday at all but I am dressing up for the first time since college so I can inject a little fun into what will be a hellish two weeks. Thankfully, the end of this hell brings my birthday and some of my favorite peeps, so I am trying to keep that in perspective while I want to cry over PowerPoint slides.
Of course instead of working, I am on the internet but I'm about to stop. For real. I swear. Maybe.
I have recently discovered the correlation between going to bed early and not wanting to stab your eyes out when the alarm goes off. I know. I'm a quick study. I've already accomplished some of the things on my list for today and got in an hour walk at the lake. Sleep. Who knew.
Now I must go accomplish the rest of my list so I can join the other slutty what-have-yous in the festivities tonight.
Boy update another time. I'm neither a full-blown testosterone case nor am I a crazy bitch...but some of his actions lately have awakened the dormant Pimp Meeks. It does not bode well for him. I just had a long talk with Christopher who, despite our now-hilarious past, knows me better than most people. I relayed the latest and he, after he stopped laughing, didn't give the boy very good odds. He knows that once I refer to a man as a pussy, it's generally downhill from there. But...fingers crossed. I still like him. He just needs a little training.
Hand me my whip.

Uncharted territory

I find myself in a bit of a quandary and it's all very unfamiliar. So...I had relations with the boy. And I don't really want to talk about it. Which is clearly not my modus operandi (see: the past three years worth of posts).
It might have something to do with the fact that I am now totally confused and don't know what to do with myself. The two sides of Meeks are in an epic battle and it's wreaking havoc all up in my brain.

Side A:

The more masculine side of me caused an instant drop in interest level upon consummation. I am fairly convinced that instead of that bonding/attachment chemical women are supposed to release after sex...I release testosterone. Exhibit A - The text message I sent Nicole at 5am, immediately after he passed out...all up in my side of the bed, I might add.

There's a reason you're supposed to wait til marriage...it's known as Lower Expectations. Yeah. I said it.This early morning text is brought to you by the number "it doesn't matter one fucking bit how long you wait" and the letter "meeeeh"...paid for by the corporation of stop snoring in my fucking ear.

I mean. I know it's harsh but I do think it's some of my finest work, especially considering I was far from sober.

Side B:
After the testosterone ebbed a little (read: after I forcefully pushed him back on his side of the bed and told him to stay there), the girl side came a-ragin'. I have less experience with this side and am traumatized by the sheer craziness of it. Y'all. Chicks are CRAZY. I have talked myself down from the bad place but still...this chick in my head needs attention and reassurance and BLECH. Get a grip, bitch.

I am a lying bitch.

"Avoid sleepovers" apparently translates to "drunk-text-invite-myself-over late night." I'm awesome. Yes. I spent another night with the boy. It was fun and hot and, most notably, still sexless! Of course this had nothing to do with my willpower and everything to do with my uterus having impeccable timing. But hey. No sex is no sex. Although...I'm kinda ready. I mean, I'm always READY. Hello. It's me. I've been ready. BEEN. READY. Been.
But mentally, I'm comfortable enough with him to go there. And emotionally, I trust him, which is really the key component. I haven't mixed emotions and sex in a long time - since the Married One, actually - and well, you can see how well that turned out. While I'm being honest, I'll just go ahead admit that I've never had emotions involved the first time I've slept with anyone. You read that right. It has always been sex first, emotions second...if ever. So you can imagine how positively terrifying all this is.
~~~
In other news, and in an attempt to discuss something other than him, I had a great night celebrating a friend's birthday! Which is where the drunk portion of last night's evening begins. It was a night for which I had low expectations but it ended up being super fun. Mostly because it involved karaoke. And my new go-to song is apparently "If I Could Turn Back Time." Sans crotchtacular outfit and ass tattoo, of course. But I do give it my all.

Blinded by the light

Yes, for those of you who actually visit the site...I give you a new background. I have been meaning to do some remodeling because I know the white-on-black can be a bit painful to read, especially when I ramble on for multiple paragraphs. But, you know, I'm lazy and couldn't be bothered...until Jamie emailed me and was like, "Dude. For real. That shit is ridiculous." To paraphrase slightly. So I spent about 30 minutes fucking around with colors and fonts and backgrounds and realized that there is a reason I didn't go into graphic design. Or anything related to color coordinating. So TaDAAAA! Thank you pre-fab templates.
It's also quite symbolic of my new attitude...or at least my attempt at altering my attitude. Moving away from the darkness and "living in my light." This is not to say that I don't embrace my dark side...because I most certainly do. I would, however, like to spend a little less time in there and a lot more time feeling the sun on my face. Both literally and figuratively. Which is why I would like to thank the weather for sending me two beautiful days of sunshine, normal temperatures, and no humidity. My hair thanks you as well.
I had one of those perfect days yesterday - catch-up lunch with a friend and then almost 2 hours at the lake. I walked, listened to music, and sat for about 45 minutes on a bench in the sun. Watched the lake, watched the swans, watched the breeze in the trees. And got some color, which is key. Finally tore myself away, finished my walk, and drove home with the windows down - for the first time since I bought my car. Like seriously. The first day it was normal enough to put the fucking windows down. I might have also been singing "Fancy" at the top of my lungs. Maybe.
Did multiple loads of laundry, flipped my big honking mattress all by myself (almost killing the cat in the process), and spent some quality time with the boy. Movie, cuddling, slumber party...and a roundabout discussion about why I'm scared to give it up. I feel more vulnerable than I have in...um...ever. Instead of going on the offensive by putting up walls and fucking other people, which I usually do, I am embracing it and being honest with him. It's interesting. And terrifying.
And I really want to have sex with him. Like. A lot. But I'm waiting until I can't take it anymore. Which feels like right effing now but I will take a cold shower and compose myself. Ugh. How do you people do it? I think I might have to avoid the sleepovers until I'm there but we actually sleep well together, which is rare for me, and damn if it isn't nice to wake up to that warm body next to you. And the boy smell on the pillow the next day? Killer.
Fucking hell. I need to go take that cold shower right now.

Onward and Upward

Now that it's official, I can share that (YAY) I was able to leave my law firm job! I will always be grateful for the experience and people because I absolutely know I will never have a firm experience like that again, what with all the nice people...but it was time for it to end. I was able to leave this job (that was slowly sucking the life out of me) because I got an amazing opportunity to work for a solo practitioner in my preferred industry. And who also happens to be effing awesome. My interview was more like an hour-long gab fest with a friend and she is lovely, down to earth and very real. Real is pretty much the #1 criteria for all people in my life...having it be someone I work for is just icing on the cake that is my life lately.
Y'all? My life is a big ole cake. I mean. Internship still rocks, new j-o is going to rock, school is...well, you know, it's school but it doesn't suck. Yet. I need to get cracking on a few things and this month might be slightly hilarious in terms of the amount of work I need to do, but still. Doesn't suck. Big bonus.
Oh, what's that? How's the boy. Well...heehee :)
Does that answer your question?
I LIKE him. I admit it. I've admitted it to him, which is a huge step for me in my quest to become more of a girl. And...you're not ready for this...
I'm not sleeping with him. (Yet.)
I. KNOW.
And DUDE. That shit is WORKING. I had no idea what you bitches were talking about but damn. It's also nice because I'm not doing it as a game. I truly do want to take my time. Because, again, I like him. What? Who knew!
I mean, if all of a sudden I were to realize it's not going anywhere but bootycall land, I would absolutely hop right on the dick...but for now, it is progressing and I am moving slow. Beyond this, I am surprised pretty much every day at how much he is NOT annoying me. Things that would generally annoy me to no end are...well, let's be honest, they're still fucking annoying but I'm letting it slide. Partially because I have my own shit going on and am not worried about it. But I also think this is something akin to what guys must go through while they are waiting for us (ok other girls) to give it up. Guys shake off the annoying shit girls do on the regular in anticipation of the pussy. Which is why girls get exponentially more irritating after they sleep with guys - both in reality and in guys' perception. They don't have to put up with shit just to get the drawers anymore.
Hopefully, when sex happens eventually, it won't "shatter the glass" and I'll still be patient with the annoying shit, as is the opposite of my nature. We shall see. In the meantime, I'm enjoying the anticipation and attention.

Still neglecting...

I mean really. I could just copy and paste the post below, with a little Post-NOLA update.

I had a blast, kept it together for the most part, did not eff up things with the boy, solidified my place in hell...and decided it'll be more fun there anyway.

I even purchased a totally cheesy ass piece of art off the street like the cheesy ass tourist I was on my last day.

But it makes me happy and will always bring back the memories - most of which are completely hilarious. Like my friend deciding she was mad at this guy she's NOT dating in any way...and crying in the middle of Bourbon Street. Y'all. It was hilarious and we have laughed about it almost every day since. Total drunk chick psycho moment. Of course, only hilarious because he wasn't there to witness the crazy. We've all had them. My favorite occurred on Cinco de Mayo, crying into my margarita while sitting at the bar...next to the boy I was crying over. What? I'm pretty.

~~~

This past week was probably one of the best of my life. I went to three (count 'em THREE) tapings of a live music show with artists I have dreamt about seeing for years and artists that reminded me how much I love to hear new music. Them Crooked Vultures rocked my FACE. OFF. on Wednesday night - seriously check out the members of the band. Ridiculous. Just one night later, I was introduced to the music of K'Naan and fell in love. His soft-spoken comments in between songs should have had me weeping - one song, Fatima (written about his childhood friend who was shot) has been in my head ever since - but he approaches the sometimes-horrific subject matter with such positivity, I found myself smiling the entire hour instead. Smiling and crying. But smiling. When his hour was up, presto-chango the set and here comes...Mos Def. I mean. YES. I'd been waiting for this show since I'd heard about it in August and he did not disappoint. At one point, enough people had left so I could move up and I stood not 10 feet from him. We made eye contact. I was dancing. It was effing awesome. Highlight of his show might have been his cover of "Billie Jean." You heard me. The whole room was singing along while he danced and paid tribute.

And finally? Saturday night...Pearl Jam.

I'm not even bothering to link to anything - you know who the fuck they are. Pearl. Jam. I was seriously 13 all over again - loving their new material and getting a bit too excited when they played...She lies and says she's in love with him/Can't find a better man...Dude. They are such excellent musicians and Eddie was just so real and funny and amazing, I was in awe. Brought out Ben Harper to play on a song and I almost lost my undies then and there. How 'bout we make a Meeks sandwich, boys? Yumtastic.

Between the stories about his daughter, playing an extra hour beyond what was originally planned, and re-starting a song three times because it didn't sound right to him ("Does it sound alright to you guys?" Uh...yes, you're Eddie Vedder. Play the kazoo for all we care. "Well, I guess that's what matters...but I want to enjoy it too, you know?"), I was in heaven. Most amazing moment of the evening came when he introduced the 40 or so wounded Iraqi war vets they'd personally invited to the show. These boys were so YOUNG. And were all missing appendages. Young, young boys...missing arms, legs. After one song, EV rounded up all of the guitar picks, drumsticks, and whatever else he could find...turned to them and said, with a wicked grin - "You know, I've seen these on Ebay. They usually go for an arm and a leg." It was hilarious and heartbreaking at the same time. Dudes started removing their prosthetics and waving them in the air. Eddie went over to them, handed out this memorabilia - and then began to sign all of their replacement arms and legs. It was intense.

So even though I'm up in the middle of the night working on a project I can't fucking stand...I'm doing fantastic.