Sun's Over the Yardarm

The Adventures of Princess P and Vitamin T



Ok, so the re-dedicating myself to the blog thing hasn't worked so very well.  There are a number of reasons for this (ok, here comes the "I didn't do it!  It was like that when I got here!" portion of the blog).  First, my web usage is totally and completely monitored.  I did, however, figure out a way around this by blogging via email as I am right now.  Second, and more importantly, the computer at home has been on crack.  I went to use it this weekend and it was like a scene from The Exorcist.  I got an old priest and a young priest but that didn't help either so I went to work on Monday and asked tech guru Jeff L. "WTF????"  He, of course, delivered the answer with a smile and the computer is no longer projectiling pea soup. 

The third reason is that I'm totally schizo.  The NB and I had that HORRIBLE falling out and I basically stayed in the house or tried to occupy myself with benign activities....but then he spoke....and then he apologized....a couple times.  Honestly, it's getting to be like a bad soap opera and I just keep tuning in to find out what he's going to say next to try to worm his way out of this one.  Thus, I keep going out at night.  The smart, logical, sane person inside of me knows that I'm just playing into his little game...he's got me showing up.  The crazy bi-polar beotch, however, doesn't care.  She just wants to know what's next. 

Excuses aside, I will try to be better as I'm sure you'll all be amused by my Telemundo quality life (hey, maybe someone will make a Lifetime movie!)  Tonight it seems I'll be eating chinese food with Dina Bean and not sitting in a bar like the little drama hound I am.  I'm looking forward to it.  I really am.  Even though I hate to miss anything.  I know I'm a 5 year old.


The UNbreakup

Ok kids, so it's been a while since I posted and I'm going to rededicate myself to this blog for the benefit of all mankind or at least for the 4 people who read it.  The NB told me to f-off last week so my all out assault has ended in failure... or success depending on how you see it.  My gang of baddies and I currently searching for signs of remorse -- Dina-Bean claims to be seeing chinks in the armor but I'm not convinced. 

In light of this breakup...or should it be a non-breakup -- another NB because he was, after all, the NOT boyfriend -- I've decided that activity is key.  This evening I will be attending a yuppie Chamber of Commerce mixer with some guys from the office, tomorrow is dinner with the baddies, Thursday is Stitch and Bitch at a knitting shop in town and Friday, assuming I'm stable and capable, will be my first outing to the bar since the non-breakup (how about the UNbreakup as an homage to the UNcola?  Besides, it makes it the UB instead of the NB -- v. confusing).

I was conversating with my dearest baddie, Laura, and explaining to her that I was just going to schedule the sad right outta my bad self when an idea was born -- The Breakup Book.  Nobody has more experience with being dumped than I do...why not share?  We'd make it chockfull of suggestions about what you can do with your sorry ass when you've been dumped on it.  Brilliant Laura suggested it could be regionalized... like "What to do in Boise when you get booted" or "What to do in Denver when you've been denied."  Bloody genius!  It may even start as a blog come to think of it....hmmmm.... we could co-write....Laura in Oregon (GO BEAVERTON!) and me in NJ....what should we do tonight Brain?  Same thing we do every night Pinky....TRY TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD!!!!!

Anyway, meanwhile I wrote her this REALLY INSANE email this morning that I thought I'd share:

Ok, so I really can't think of anything to do at work today.  I've been channelling a great deal of negative energy into work which basically means I'm doing things 3 times faster than normal...which i believe makes me a superhero but that's another story entirely.  The upside of my superpowers is that my boss is amazed at how quickly I've been turning out press releases, however, the downside is that while I might have allotted 2 days for a project I'm now getting it done in half a day and am at a loss as to what to do with the rest of the time.

I'm SURE there's something I could be doing... really, there must be, but unfortunately navigating the web of approvals that have to happen before I can start pitching a case study or press release is something my work has to do all on its own...I can't really intervene once I've sent the copy to whomever needs to look it over and say "righty-o!"  My internet usage is also monitored so while I would love to shop online or read trashy celeb gossip or funny stuff I just can't cause I may be called to the mat on it.  I can't knit or anything cause they're paying me to be busy and I think they'd find me working on the fugly poncho offensive, not to mention grounds for dismissal.

I was just talking to this very cute boy who works here.  I think he's just adorable and funny, and he wears a tie to work every day even though we're biz casual (envision me in khakis, jungle mocs and a particularly cheerful green v-neck sweater as I compose this).  On casual Fridays when everyone else is in jeans he wears khakis, no tie, a blazer and a button down.  Adorable.

Ok, I obviously need to switch from the XL Dunkin Donuts in the morning to a more modest size.  I'm ever-so-slightly wired.

Love you the most, hugs and kisses to Jonathan!


Want to sponsor a blog?  Or a blogger?  If you'll supply my daily coffee fix I will GLADLY mark my blog "sponsored by Dunkin Donuts."  I love you guys, really.  I'm an XL hazelnut light and sweet...religiously.  Sometimes hot, sometimes iced but I'm there....during the week Riverview Rd., Totowa, NJ, weekends either Valley Rd. Upper Montclair, NJ or Pompton Ave, Cedar Grove, NJ.  Hey, it's what gets me out of bed in the morning.  One thing though, I was just wondering if there's any standard operating procedure as far as decaf is concerned.  While I personally do not believe in decaf (what's the point?) my mom can't have high octane due to a medical condition and it's VERY important that she gets decaf.  The DD employees seem to switch the location of the decaf (particularly for iced coffee) on a daily basis, and frankly, I don't trust 'em. I bet the customers would love it and it would help the employees if the dispenser was clearly labeled decaf.  Just a thought.


Bring Me The Head of The N.B.!

Yes kids, it has been quite a long time since I've blogged... work has a way of putting a damper on personal pursuits. Today marks day 2 of Project N.B. in which I proceed to twist his guts until he is begging me to let him kiss my feet. What brings this about you ask? 5 words: Our bar + N.B. + Dirty Skank.

Let's all keep in mind that in 5 short days I will be on his arm at Lisa and Doc's rehearsal and dinner and AGAIN the next day at the wedding. The man is toast. Absolutely fucked. My team of baddies is behind the scenes plotting furiously to "Make it Work." Stage 1 began last night with me trotting in dressed to the nines at 8:30 saying only that I'd been to dinner. I flirted with every fella in the joint who walked up to me (it goes without saying that if I approached them it would give off that - "look at me, I'm fucking with you!" vibe that we are very much avoiding). When Dirty Skank Whore (yes, added the Whore because I like the idea of calling her DSW) came in I kept my cool, finished my beer and exited the premises with class and dignity. I knew stage 1 was complete and successful becaue the N.B. called me about 20 minutes later to see if I was ok to which I replied "Yup. Goodbye." in a nice neutral non-commital kind of way. Stage 1 complete. Stage 2 begins effective immediately.

Stage 2 - Full Military Silence.
  • There will be no phone calls made.
  • Initiated phone calls will be answered on a case-by-case basis after consultation with baddies AND with NO regularity whatsoever.
  • There will be no emails written.
  • Initiated emails will be handled per initiated phone call Standard Operating Procedures.
  • There will be no bar appearances for two full days after which any appearances must be cameos (in and out).
  • Baddies will report no knowledge of my whereabouts.

Stage 2's success will be measured by the number of the N.B.'s attempts to get in touch plus the number of times he has inquired about my well-being/whereabouts.

Let the games begin!



Ok kids, I have to go freshen up so I can go pick up the NB the instant he gets home from work BUT I wanted to give you a few quickies for the moment:

We're not going to California!!!!!!!

How good is that?!?

#2. Will gave me my gang name: Triple D Li. Y'all suck big donkey balls. No prize for you!

#3. Welcome Dina!

Ok, will relay other interesting events in excrutiating detail later...must primp.


Long Day's Journey Into Night (and then some) ****** Contest at End of Entry*****

I must admit that tonight I have one of those no sleep hangovers. I didn't drink too much last night although I did drink but we did see the sun rise and that has really left me hurting.

I went out with the boys, JoGina and Dina to the lovely Verona Inn. We started on the early side...about 5:30 and were out of there around 9 (I think although I can't be sure) and headed to the NB's place. I was on mission to secure 3 sixes and a pack of smokes for the NB who has resumed smoking after a yearlong hiatus. I was also left in charge of Jake (the BF or best friend) who was drunk out of his skull and behaving like a 6 year old. I secured the beer at the VI but when I pulled into On the Run he started having a temper tantrum that resulted in me turning into Bad Mommy yelling at him in the parking lot to "Shut the fuck up and stay in the car! I'll be right back!" Some guy in the parking lot proceeded to applaud and say "You tell him!" Two minutes later, smokes secured I returned to the car to find Jake shouting "Mommy! Mommy!" I drove to the NB's. Fast.

When we arrived we found the apartment populated by the NB, Bruce (the third of the 3 "boys" or "husbands), and, unexpectedly Jeffrey (previously known as SMF or SMS). I stowed the beer in the fridge and, as is my wifely duty, served the boys. Jake immediately got out of control and one look at the NB told me he was about to boil over. He got up, walked into the bedroom and moments later I heard the telltale sounds of him pounding the stuffing out of his heavy bag. I positioned myself in the living room blocking the entrance to the bedroom so I could keep Jake and the NB separated. I told Jakey I needed him to sit down and chill out and managed to get him settled in a chair sipping a beer and strumming a guitar.

So I hear the NB calling from the bedroom, "Li sweetheart, can you come here?" The living room erupted into laughter -- the man is beating the crap out of an inanimate object and is sweetly calling me to come in...certainly sounded like a domestic disturbance waiting to happen. Undaunted, I went into the bedroom. He grabbed me with gloved hands and said, "You know I'd never hit you or want to hurt you in any way, right?" I agreed. His next question? "Can you hold the bag?" So I wedge myself into the corner behind the bag and hold onto it while he pummels it into submission. I wasn't afraid of getting hurt but what surprises me is that I wasn't afraid of what I was seeing...this pent up rage unleashed... but all I kept thinking was how glad I was that he was getting it out.

For the next hour or so we were back and forth, alternately entertaining guests in the living room and playing Rocky in the bedroom. At one point I was sitting in the living room talking to Jake when I heard the punching again - really rapid fire. Jake looked at me and said, "I think you'd better go in there." I got up and went in. He looked at me in the oddest way and said, "I'm not someone you want to be with. I'm not someone you want around." My immediate reaction was to throw my arms around him, pull him towards me and tell him it was all ok. He crumpled like a child when I did. He melted right into me, kissed me and was, I think, seconds from tears. We stood like that a while until he finally looked up at me and said, "Ok. I'm ok now." We went back into the living room, his hands still in the fingerless practive gloves I'd gotten him.

I played hostess again, getting fresh beers and putting empties in recycling. When I got to the NB he took the beer from me, put it on the table and then held his hands up to me to take the gloves off. I took them in the bedroom and put them away. When I came back and sat down with him he was markedly calmer. Jeffrey started talking to me about my job and as soon as the NB got up to go to the bathroom Jeffrey took his seat. I was trapped in a conversation I couldn't get out of and there was too much touching involved. Frankly, I threw up in my mouth a little.

My husbands were sitting on the couch talking and kept trying to pull me back into their conversation but Jeffrey is relentless. He just talked right over them and then, in a grand gesture that was either designed to woo me or piss off the NB or both, he insisted that he was going to send me flowers. He made a big production of it and then asked the NB for paper and a pen to write down my address. When NB went looking for it I told him to stop because "I don't want to play this game." He assured me it was harmless and that his good bud was just being nice. When Jeffrey continued to go on asking me if I wanted roses, the NB hit his point and pulled me into the bedroom. He asked me if I was ok as I'd told him previously that Jeffrey makes me uncomfortable and if he needed to say something. I said only that I don't want anything from Jeffrey. The NB came back out and got Jeffrey talking about something else.

The fun of the evening really started when Jeffrey and Bruce left. I can't even begin to tell you what went on. The NB, Jake and I sat up until 6am talking. We talked about everything...childhood, school, marriage, therapy, parents. All I can say coming out of last night/this morning is that I really love these two men and feel very loved by them in return. I said to my mother this afternoon that we're a family in our own way...that the beauty of our bond is that in spite of our families of origin we've created a family unit with whom we're truly safe. I told them things last night that I'd been holding back for the year plus that I've known them and they told me things they've never told anyone.

It wasn't all so heavy... we laughed a lot...especially once we got close to sunrise and we were overtired and giggly. It was absolute magic. I finally fell asleep on the couch sitting up. I remember telling jake to go fuck himself a couple times so he must have woken me up. Around 5:30 Jake left and the NB locked up again and told me to go lie down...that he was going to read for a bit but all I really wanted was to be with him. We finally agreed that we'd sit together a bit and then I'd go home so we climbed into the club chair together and had an extended snuggle...might have even dozed off for a bit.

When 6:30 rolled around he kissed me and said he wanted to go shower and then try to sleep a little but that he'd be around tonight. A long, tight, fantastic hug and many kisses later I got my keys and headed for the door. He walked me down, kissed me and said, "Call me please when you get home?" I told him I'd be ok and that he'd be in the shower or asleep anyway but he insisted. It's funny, he's just recently started to insist upon a call when I get home which is so sweet. He always says, "Don't expect me to answer...I just want to know you're ok" but he always does...even if just to say "Goodnight sweetpea. Love you." Funny, this is the man who's not my boyfriend.

I'm so ridiculously tired now. Tomorrow I'll tell you about how we came to create our own gang complete with street names (NB = Old Dirty Dog (aka ODD) Bruce = Rusty, Jake = Little Baby Jesus) and a secret handshake. In the meantime, I need some help coming up with my own street name...I'm told I'll have no "cred" until I get one. I'll rip off Laura and Jonathan's contest... suggest a street name, my gang will vote on it and the submitter of the winning name gets a prize.


They Call Me The Spindoctor

I GOTS ME A GROWN-UP JOB!! Yes kids, I'll be running PR and Marketing for a software company in Totowa starting in about a week. Now that I'm returning to gainful employment maybe I'll obsess less about my personal life...wait, have I met me? Of course I won't obsess less!

As a follow-up to my recent freak-out: I didn't fuck it up at all. As we all know when we're sane (you see the problem already), part and parcel of obsession is that we come up with worst case scenarios and send ourselves into this insane spin-out that involves tears, palpitations, unreasonable fears and over-reactions. What's the pay-off? When everything turns out OK it just feels so damn good. I recognize my psychotic tendencies folks and have managed to keep the external manifestations to the "loveably crazy" level.

The long and short is this: we talked, everyone is ok and we're still spending a lot of time together - alone and with the crew. The sex issue remains unresolved, which, being the deeply disturbed person I am, I have decided has to do with some deep-seated psychological issue of the NB's. Samantha, if you're reading this, I think both the NB and I are fodder for your incisive psychological analysis. Artwork can be provided to reinforce your conclusions.

So, basically everyone is doing fine....except, of course, that the California job is still an issue. His face-to-face is in 2 weeks. We talked about it the other night and he came out with, "All I'll have to do is get you to move out there." This was followed by further suggestion that if I don't move to Cali that he'd buy his apartment and I could live in it. Bizarre! The man who can't decide from minute to minute whether he's my boyfriend or not wants me to move across the fucking country with him. As further proof that he's insane and conflicted, I receive an email as part of an ongoing conversation that reads:

"You are an awesome friend of mine, I can talk to you for hours. I’m just not boyfriend material, trust me on that. (no I’m not in the closet)"

Later that evening, at his apartment, after we hang a painting and spackle (yup, we're a fun-loving couple!) and he's all sweaty he goes to hug me and realizes that he reaks...his comment? "Sweetpea, you have a very stinky boyfriend." Buddy, are you a B or an NB??? Let's get real here: there are 2 differences between the relationship we're having now and us being boyfriend-girlfriend:

1. Sex - we're not having any... hear BF-GF's do.
2. Using the terms "boyfriend" and "girlfriend"

Other than that - we're there. We do stupid housework together, spend a ton of time together, I am "dear", "darling", "sweetheart" or "sweetpea" (I can't remember the last time the man used my name) and he is, fairly uniformly "honey" with an occasional occurence of "sweetie", I wash dishes, schedule haircuts, run errands, make the bed. We are invited to events as a couple. Each of us is frequently asked to convince the other of something. If one arrives somewhere without the other they are immediately asked their whereabouts or when they will be arriving. Denial is not just a river in Egypt baby!

Now, to quote Forrest Gump, "That's all I have to say about that." For now at least.


The F Word

I just got home from a night out with the NB. It was great, actually. I picked him up at 6:30 and we drove up to O'Neil's and had a few drinks. It was so strange in that I realized tonight that he and I had never gone out just the two of us. We'd ended up alone together but we'd always started out with a group. At first it was just like an awkward first date and then things relaxed a lot.

I don't want to go on for long because I'm tired but the gist is this: when I took him home he kissed me but I just felt like he was afraid of me...that he was trying to keep his distance. He said he'd see me tomorrow, which I'm looking forward to, but something was just weird. I started driving home when I picked up my cell and called him and said, "I wanted to ask you something...I think about making love with you...mmm... pretty much constantly and I don't know if we're on the same wavelength on this one so I need you to tell me what I'm doing wrong." His first response? "Why are we talking about this on the phone and not in person?" A million things shot through my head...because I need to obsess for a few minutes before a fully formed thought emerges, because I need the distance of you not being in front of me, because I'm a coward...but most importantly because I love you and I'm scared of you.

Here's the thing -- I don't know what to tell him and what not to. I'm scared that something I say is going to send him running for the hills. I'm afraid he's going to leave me. I hate to admit it but he's right. We should be talking about this in person. I should grow some stones and say what I have to say to his face. He said we'd talk tomorrow night and I know what I have to do. I have to be brave. I just have to do it. God, this could totally fuck everything up but I also know that we can't move on without it. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck!