To Mr. Whomever You Will Be . . .

Okay, so I say I hate Valentine's Day . . . I don't hate it.  I don't like it either.  For me it's just another day.  It's like last Tuesday, or the following Thursday.  It really has never held a special meaning for me.  Partly because, well, I haven't had a valentine in a long, long time.  I had so much going on upstairs, I really didn't have a chance to find someone. 

So, I'm looking.  Not desperatly seeking, or crazily, but just looking . . . and to Mr. Whomever You Will Be, I just want you to know, I'm just me . . .

“Just Me”

I can’t compete with the sexy young thing,
Strutting across the dance floor, showing is bling.
He’s hot, he’s a dream,
He haunts all the men’s memories.
I’m a bit shy, stand off by the side.
I don’t like everyone to know me, sometimes I hide.
But with you my hips begin to move
And the beat infects me, I start to groove.
I don’t know what will be,
I only know I’m not him, I’m just me.

I can’t outshine the drag queen on stage,
Swinging her hips, acting half her age.
She’s sassy, she’s crass,
She lets you slap her ass.
I move slowly, even though I want to go fast.
Take every step deliberately, I want it to last.
I’ll admit, deep within, a closet freak resides,
I just don’t know how to unleash it from inside.
My desires are welling, my heart is free,
I can only say I’m not her, I’m just me.

I can’t eclipse the furry bear
Flexing his muscles, wearing his leather.
He’s manly, he’s strong,
His desire burns hard and long.
I am a work in progress, it takes time.
I struggle at times to keep my eye on the prize.
I will try to fulfill your fantasies, your desires,
I can only promise to try to keep ablaze the fire.
My love burns strong, could that make you happy?
I promise you I’m not any of them, I’m just me.

Random Thoughts in the Key of G

I'm sitting here not entirely sure why I'm blogging this.  I would call this entry more of a free thought, free flowing train of my random thoughts.  I guess I just feel the need from time to time to open the small door of my craziness to the world outside.  I think it makes you appreciate sanity more . . . lol!

So, the basics first.  I'm in front of my computer listening to just about the best Gaga song EVER . . . (Bad Romance in case you were curious) in my sweats.  Ragan is sleeping next to my chair, Wilson is in the bedroom on my bed, and I have no idea where Kahlua is hiding, probably in Ragan's kennel, her new favorite spot.

Ever wonder if someone thinks the same thing about you that you do about them?  I'll just start off with being single sucks.  Well, not sucks, but is very frustrating.  I know relationships are hard work, and I by no mean imply that life is soooo much better with one, I just know that I want one.  So, someone has caught my eye (true story!).  And as anything that happens in my life, it's complicated.  I never think that someone looks at me that way, and well, I wish I knew if he did.  Would make things soooooooo much easier.  Kinda like Gaga says . . . I don't wanna be friends!  I mean I do, but I don't . . . Somehow I always end up in the dreaded "friend zone" . . . And I'm always scared that I'm misreading the situation. 

A bit down about the whole grad school thing.  I basically am getting turned down by two of my schools.  I'm on the dreaded "back up" list . . . Texas Tech and UNT both have already contacted applicants to come down for an interview day, and well . . . I didn't get an invite.  A bit bummed out by that but like one of my professors said, I know I can continue on for my Master's where I'm at.  Not that I don't love Washburn, but I really, really want to get a PhD . . . so I might be going through all this again next year . . . ugh!

I'm really excited about presenting the results of my research this Spring.  I'm doing it three times . . . once at a University level, once at a multi-state level, and finally at a whole Midwest level.  It's kind of exciting!!!  We'll see how all that goes . . . but I'm excited for the experience!!!  Sooner or later I'll finish up my research paper and potentially even work on getting it published.

I wonder why I pay for cable tv . . . I NEVER WATCH IT anymore.  I love me some cable internet, but I never watch any shows on tv . . . I just don't get myself sometimes . . . I need to cowboy up and take the cable box back and say that I just want internet -- nuttin' else.  Sooner or later I guess I will . . .

I'm craving some Oreos & milk hard core right now . . . good thing I have neither in my house!!

Am I Pretty?

Before you get ready to send me some note to tell me to cheer up or I am -- I'm not asking this question.  Rather, I'm answering it for someone.  Someone, who quite frankly, shocked me when that person asked me this question.  It was someone that I felt was pretty, as you'll see later, as well as cute as hell!  It caught me off guard that he would ask a question I essentially wonder all the time about myself.

While it wasn't exactly worded that way, the gist was definitely those three little words that at some time, in some form or fashion, we all want to know.  "Am I pretty?"

What makes someone pretty?  We all know that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so in this case since I'm the beholden, I get to answer that question.  To me, only a few things make someone pretty. 

Let's get the obvious out of the way -- I'm not talking about attractive.  Attractive is defined by society and culture, and I think we are all pretty well versed on what our culture finds attractive.  Attractive activates the lust within us all -- both exciting as well as fleeting.  Pretty is much more intense, slower to come to the surface, and what makes love endure, in my book.

One more caveat before I answer his question.  It was asked by someone that is a-straight, and b-not looking to test out "the other team" so to speak.  He asked it because he knew I'd give an unbiased opinion with nothing behind it. 

So, are you pretty?  Let me look into your eyes.  Do you have that spark, that spirit, that light?  Is that fire burning within, that passion for life?  When you look at me, can I tell without even seeing you?  Yes, your gaze is electric, exciting, and dare I say a bit dangerous.  You are pretty because of what I can see deep in your eyes.  Life with you will never be dull, and never lose it's passion.

Touch my shoulder, or my hand.  Not in a sensual way, but in a casual way.  Maybe a nice hug.  Was there something warm in that embrace?  Did my heart flutter a bit?  Did yours?  Can you communicate your emotions, how you feel, through a touch?  If a heart rate changes, or a deep breath happens, you can.  Life with you would never be lonely, never be cold.

Talk to me.  Not in that 900 number way . . . but rather in a way that opens the door to you.  Be honest, be upfront.  Can you share what you fear?  Can you communicate your dreams?  Without even trying, can you engage me in a conversation that blurs time.  You know, the kind when you turn around and are like -- seriously??  We've been talking for HOW LONG??  Life with you would be emotionally and intellectually rewarding. 

So this is how I define "pretty" -- and while it's true that he probably didn't want to know all this -- it's all good.  He gave me a great topic for a blog entry, and made me think about what I do find pretty.  And he is very, very pretty indeed . . .