Nice men.... can roast in hell.

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Way, way too long

A year of no sex is apparently way too long. I dream now about how many men I could please at once which is so who I usually am, it's funny. (Not). That number is six if they don't mind being a little crowded together.

Today, is my mother's birthday. I hope she has a good one since everyone in the house, ate the chocolate chip that were supposed to be hers, I mean everyone but her.  Funny, how that worked out even after I hid the cookies Thursday night.

Music tells stories

My story is sometimes when I'm sad, my story is told by song and dance. You would think that is fun, but truly sometimes it's just smiling through any kind of pain. You know doing the performance thing and doing it well.

Slowly, I'm telling the wrong kind of story. One of self-destruction and stupidity. Two traits I usually don't apply to myself. I hope I only stuck them there with command tape, so I can remove them with no left over damage.

I feel bad for this woman, she is too stupid to fall in love with a man who fucks up breakfast in the extreme. I fell for blackberry french toast.

I miss dancing when it means laughter. Too bad no else in my life does.

Finally, we decide we'd always be on opposite sides of a rock and a hard place, or I did. You decided I was a good enough person that though my desires in food and sex which disturbed you will never change I'm a good enough person to date in a couple years after you had a chance to date other women. Thanks, for making a second choice or a last resort in the same way that made me leave in the first place.

Last Thursday, I wound my way to the farmer's market. It's always my favorite day of the week. I get called cranky and weird by Adam and only cranky the joke. As far as that goes I already knew. I got Adam to smile for the first time since I met him in early July. In his own words, it makes him adorable, in my words it made him simply handsome with his brown hair, matching eyes, large and tall frame and his neat and cowboy themed dress. (Thank god, he hasn't worn hunter's red plaid I hate it on anybody.) Anyway, it was quite an accomplishment because he showed up looking like someone stuck a tap deep inside and dragged everything ironic, determined, and opinionated into the ether. He may be working in the Crust & Crumb bakery right now to complete his education, but he's more scientific and enthusiastic about regular cooking, whereas I'd rather bake. He tells me stories about his family, and then turns around and says no relationships,  family, friends, or romantic ones last like he really believes it.

The cookies, bars, and scones, are so good. He and his boss Alison, made these apricot crumb bars, they made me close my eyes, and nibble, oh so slowly on it. I know you can look up a recipe and make anything someone else makes with experience, and skill. But I still like having someone across from me, who likes serving others, and doing it well. Even though Adam doesn't like baking, he is good at making others feel good about what they are purchasing.

Then there is Kearsage Gore Farm. The young woman sets up her stand so the fresh produce she sells for her boss, and friend, can get shade and energy from the tree in the community square. As we set up she no longer has to warn me that things are heavy as she lifts and crawls over everything easily, and somehow I struggle LESS with them. She more than talks to everyone, she laughs, and jokes, (physically and verbally), she genuinely likes them, it's not my mojo. I have a group I'm loyal too. The customers at the market talk to her about Kale, her long, starting dred hair, and skunk invaded teepee. I personally, listened and traded with her, I liked it better than talking.  Her major fault from my point of view is that's TOO generous, everyone at the market likes to share equally, and she shares too much like dandelion greens, five broccoli heads, and radishes all with a hidden bug guest.

Then there's the boss, I think I needed to warm up to him, not the other way around. I'm not aware sometimes that I'm adult I still act very respectful, and very distant. Then he and I started laughing our asses off over my stupidity over lifting up a bucket and wondering out loud what the hell vegetable could be that heavy and it turned out to be maple syrup. I guess I'm accepted. Which is good because he acts and looks the classic old man farmer, and being accepted means I'm less than a stupid city folk.

Tastiness

I was watching Food Network's Restaurant Impossible tonight. You know the one organized by Robert Irvine. He said to the restaurant owners, "I've got you." Well, between his strictness, humor, ability to cook, and his absolute tastiness I'd love to be had. I don't know which is more likely to make me lick my lips, him or his meals.

Lonely

I was so lonely and sad today that I pulled on one of my ex boyfriend's shirts. I don't understand why it just prompted me to get angry and cry. He wants me to be friends with him. Well, friends talk, he eats fast food, meat, meat, meat, drinks soda, and his mother cooks for him, while laughing and joking constantly with anyone who walks in, while he plays video games, or visits friends who do the exact same things. I eat home made pies, bread, pasta, and fresh vegetables almost every day, notice what's missing from that list? I run, swim, kayak, dance, and pick up broken glass on my slower return to my parent's hell hole. I'm supposed to talk about the process of making a pie crust, how I spent half my day with sweat pouring down my back so I could eat bread made with cruelty free eggs, how my water hose broke, and I had to water my lettuce by bucket. I want nothing more than to see my family for an hour a week and holidays, while reading and living completely off the grid. I'M SUPPOSED TO TALK TO SOMEONE WHO IS QUICKLY BORED AND ANNOYED WITH THE FUCKED UP HIPPIE GIRL.