Last night I tackled what I've been dreading for months. I sorted my CDs. Damn I have a lot. And damn some of them suck. It was sort of depressing to look at how many CDs I've bought in my life and how much money I spent on ones that I didn't even listen to all that much. It was so sad to pull them out of their little rack/stack/bag/box and dust some of the off and remember better days when I thought they were actually good CDs. And it was really no fun to sort them all and stack up crappy singles and crappy albums and crappy burned CDs. And it was even sadder that this is my life now. BUT! But, it was all worth it for one single reason. And I say this with all honesty, I found my O-Town CD!! Oh for joy! I lost that CD at the height of my listening to it. It got shuffled into an empty case and the case shuffled among some other empty cases and then put into a stack in a box and has been sitting there for two years. I looked for it a few times and never could seem to find it. But alas, after years of patience and waiting, hoping that one day I would find it again, it has finally come back to me. Now the only thing left to do is pop that sucker in a CD player and listen to one of the best albums of all time.. (Okay, that might be a little bit of an exaggeration.. but only a little.) Lisa! It's O-Town time!!

I was watching "Enemy of the State" last night. The few times I've een it lately I seem to always see the part where Gene Hackman is telling Will Smith about how the government monitors everything and how the more technology you use the easier it is. I have to say, that party always freaks me out just a little bit. I really don't like the idea of the government or anyone else knowing just how much Mah Jong Solitaire I actually play. Nor do they need to know the frequency with which I check certain people's profiles or how much time I spend browsing the Victoria's Secret website. If anything, the reason I do things online and do the browsing that I do is so that I can do it from the privacy of my own home and no one has to know what cheezy ass clothes and movies I'm looking at. So government, if you're listening, could you please do me a huge favor and keep all this stuff to yourself? Thanks.. Your fan, Freesia.

Last night I wrote this whole long blog and then when I went to post it there was some error and then it was lost forever. If I can't rely on blogger, who can I count on?? Maybe it's a good thing though. It wasn't totally coherent and I think I may have been saying things I shouldn't have been. So maybe blogger was just good lookin out. Good to know someone is..

It's been pointed out to me that I'm a vengeful blogger. That is to say that much of my blogging is in direct response to something someone else has said to me or about me. I can't really disagree with that. But I'm going to try to stop. I'm not really sure why. I thin I just don't like the thought of being vengeful about anything. Maybe I should just come up with another term for it, something softer. Suggestions?
It's getting late and my novel is no where near completion so I'd better quit with the blogging entirely for tonight.

"Love actually is all around." That's the line. After watching the movie there's no doubt that that's true. According to the movie, because it's nearing Christmas time, we should all be sharing the love and confessing our true feelings and telling people that we love them. So here it is:

I love you. Plain and simple. Maybe that's weird to you but I just do. I love the way you make me feel, and the way you can cheer me up. I love that we have jokes to no end. I love that we can pick up where we left off like nothing has changed. I love that we can talk about anything and everything and complete nothing. I love that we have so much in common. And I love that we have nothing in common but that doesn't seem to matter. I love that we have secrets, that there are things between you and I that no one else knows or understands. I love that we can sit in silence or do nothing and still have a good time. I love that you will put up with my crap and not hold it against me. I love how comfortable I feel around you and that you can still make me a little nervous. I love doing things for you and I love the things you do for me. I love that you let me be myself without passing judgement. I love that you will put me in my place when I need it, and let me let the crazy out when I need that too. I love that you call just to say hi; and that you tell me the things you're excited about. I love that I did things for the first time with you; and that certain things have become a routine, unique to you and me. I love that you get me thinking about new things and force me to take another look at old things, even when I don't want to. I love that a short conversation with you can last through the night and well into the morning. I love that you've taught me so much and I have no doubt that you're going to keep teaching me things, whether I like it or not. And even though you're not around anymore I love the things we used to do; all the movies and long, late night talks and slumber parties and the hilarity that insued still mean a lot to me. Even though you're not around anymore the impression you left on me just won't seem to go away. And I love that you make me feel like this. Just being you causes all these emotions to want to come pouring out of me. And I love you too much to tell you this. Because we don't ever say stuff like that, and I'm afraid if I did it might just scare you away. So I'll try to keep quiet. But whether or not you know it, and whether or not you love me, I still love you.

I hadn't planned on blogging tonight. It was suggested to me that I should because it's "healthy and productive" but I really had nothing to say so I wasn't going to. But then someone asked me to tell him who were the prettiest people right now just for the sake of making some sort of list. I told him no because I didn't feel like thinking about all the people who are prettier than me and make me feel bad about myself. He asked me why I was being so negative and if something was wrong. I told him nothing was wrong. I just didn't feel like talking about it. I was being pessimistic and sarcastic but nothing was wrong, I honestly just didn't feel like talking about. I'm not going to jump all over him for pushing the issue or because he assumed that something was wrong. It's fair I guess. But I guess it just got me thinking, why isn't enough to say, I just don't feel like talking about it? Why does that always mean that something is wrong or there is more to it. I've definitely been on the other end of the "I don't wanna talk about it" and I've definitely given the "I don't wanna talk about it" because there was something wrong and there actually was a lot to talk about but I didn't wanna deal with it, but I think for the first time it's occured to me that there are times when I just do not wanna talk about things for no other reason than I just don't feel like it. Sometimes I'd just like to keep things to myself and not have to explain myself. Sometimes I just want "Because.." to be enough of an answer. I can think of at least one time where my saying this makes me a total hypocrit, and I'm totally willing to acknowledge that. And I guess in retrospect, I should've just let "because" be enough of an answer. I understand that sometimes curiosity just gets the best of us. And sometimes it's more than curiousity. But I guess right now, in this moment, I like the idea of not having to explain myself when I don't feel like it. Of being able to say what I want to who I want and having that be enough. I'm starting to think that this doesn't make sense and it's turning into some weird garble of letters and words that seperetly make sense, but in the order I'm using them might as well be sanskrit. This was just something that struck a little nerve with me in some random place. It's definitely time for bed.

From the new Victoria's Secret catalog:

THE 2003 VERY SEXY BRA
Victoria's Secret introduces The Very Sexy Fantasy Bra by Mouawad, featuring the 70-carat Excelsior Diamond.

THE FANTASY BRA. Inspired by the bright lights of Broadway, this breathtaking interpretation of our Very Sexy Lingerie Collection is sure to propel her into the limelight. World-renowned jewelry designer Mouawad transformed 2, 089 exquisitely-cut white diamonds, yellow-orange sapphires, rhodolites and amethysts into a one-of-a-kind design that illuminates the Broadway experience in a glamourous and sexy way. At the center of this triangle bra lies the 70-carat pear-shape Mouawad Excelsior Diamond, a show-stopping piece cut from the second largest, rough diamond in the world. This dazzling bra has a total weight of 2,200 carats. The matching panty glitters with 3, 236 diamonds and rich0colored gem stones for a total weight of 200 carats.

Since 1890, Mouawad has created some of the most extrodinary jewelry in the world, including custom-made designs for royal families and the Victoria's Secret 2001 and 2002 Fantasy Bras. Over 375 hours of work went into the construction of The 2003 Fantasy Bra, making it one f the most labor-intensive creations Victoria's Secret has ever introduced.
FANTASY BRA AND PANTY
$11,000,000.00

I'm not even sure there are words for this. On the one hand I can't help but think about how wildly excessive this is and if someone could actually afford it and I can't believe they even made it and what is our society coming to.. But on the other.. O-M-FREAKING-G. This has got to be the most bling-bling thing in the history of all things bling. How cool would it be to have this or even just get to wear it once for the picture. Probably sort of cold and uncomfortable actually, but DIAMONDS!! I can't even comprehend...

Mary Poppins said it best: "That's a pie crust promise; easily made, easily broken."

In thinking back on the things that have been promised to me, I have to wonder what promises aren't pie crust promises. I promise we'll always be friends. I promise I'll always be there for you. I promise I'll never hurt you. In the moment those are the greatest words to hear. They are a reassurance, an affirmation, and more than we can ever ask for. We hear things like this and we want so badly to believe they're true. We want to think that that old friend, best friend, lover, like-a-sister to us would never break their promise. We're too close, we have too much history. But what about when the moment is gone? What about when we are hurt, or when we're not friends, or when they're not there? The hurt of a broken promise is far greater than the comfort of the promise itself. And then there are the promises that are implied. The things that seem to go without saying. It hurts most when those are broken. And at some point you have to ask yourself, cliche as it is, when is enough enough? How many broken promises can you take before you're fed up. How angry and hurt do you have to be before you decide it's over. How bad does someone have to make you feel before you decide to walk away.

I've never been good with these questions. I've never wanted to face them. Not head on. And I've never wanted to commit to the answers. I've always wanted to believe in the promises and make excuses for when they were broken. I've wanted to believe that if the sentiment was there once it could be there again. I've wanted so many times to fight for what used to be or even just fight to keep someone in my life despite knowing that letting go was the best and only real solution. So at some long over due point, after going far too many rounds with myself and with someone else, there's no choice but to give up and move on. I feel like I've lost a fight and I hate to just give in, but sometimes I've just gotta bow out and cut my losses. It hurts and I hate it and I'm absolutely horrible at it, but it happens.

So then comes the big question: how much of the hurt and the bitterness do you hold on to; how much of the anger and mistrust gets put onto the next relationship, and the one after that, and the one after that. How much can you expect--or not expect as the case may be--how much can you compare and guard yourself from. I've never been good with these questions either. After each time I get myself into something that looks a bit sticky I think "not this time, not again." But so far most of those situations have gone from sticky to big giant mess, with absolutely no safeguards on my part. I believe the promises, I let my guard down, I give little parts of me away. I try not to hold my past issues with people against a new person. But things still seem to go bad. In the end I'm hurt and whatever sort of relationship that was there is over.

And then what?Someone got me thinking about what it takes to call someone a friend. He says it's gotten harder and harder to start calling someone a real friend. But for me the question is, what does it take to stop calling someone a friend? It's faster to say "My friend" instead of "This girl I had class with" or "this guy I used to know in high school." It's a term that's easy to throw around, and that might not be such a bad thing. Maybe we should consider more people friends at least on a surface level instead of just "this guy I talk to sometimes." But it's the people that you used to be close with where it gets tough. They used to be a best friend, they used to be so important and know ever story and every secret. They were the epitome of 'friend.' But now they're not. And knowing that they're not, it makes it harder to call them one. When you do call them a friend it stings ever so slightly as the words come out of your mouth and you try hard not to let your voice falter. But they used to be a friend, a good friend, and that still counts for something. So they get tucked away somewhere in the good memories and the really important ones still hold a special little place. You forget about the broken pie crusts and the hurt and hold on to what was good. And then along comes the next person whose promises you hope to believe in and the cycle continues. And then after a while the promises stop being broken and those unanswerable questions don't come up anymore. At least that's what I hope for.

(Funny thing... as I'm wrapping this up, BSB "10,000 Promises" started playing on my winamp. Heh. Go figure.)

If tonight and last night are any indication of the winter to come, then let me just say, hello thermals!

Hit up the Castro last night for Halloween. It was my first time going and I have to say it really wasn't all too spectacular. It was cold and crowded and I saw far too many men's asses. That might not have been so bad had they waxed.. but no. But I guess it's not every day I get to see a man in a white bra, white g-string, heels, and a sheer teddy over the whole thing. Or that I see a man in full renissance-type attire from the waist up, and thong on the bottom. Fun times. Some of the costumes were cute, some were wack, and some were just slutty. And to those girls, if you're gonna dress slutty and basically be in your underwear, expect that you're gonna get a little bit grabbed. And let's be honest, if you're dressed like that, you want the attention at least a little bit, so don't make such a fuss. Anyway, the best costume, personally, was the guy dressed as Lloyd Dobbler. Yes, that's right, "Say Anything's" John Cusak. Oh it was so cute. Not the most original or hardest to pull off, but it was cute. I saw this guy from behind holding a box in the air and at first it seemed a little bit familiar but I really didn't know what he was supposed to be and then he turned around and it all mad sense. And it was quite cute really. He even sorta had the messy-ish hair thing going on. I told him it was awesome. He said thanks. He was 17. Figures. Anyway, the night was basically just walking and trying to get through crowds of semi-annoying people, trying to stay with the group and not get lost or seperated or punched in the shoulder too many times. Good thing for the buddy system. Anyway, enough about Halloween.