To ring in the New Year I am craving a small get together, with me and a few friends sitting together in a place filled with books and wonderful coffee, swapping minds, intellect, poetry, written word and discussing our various highs and lows of the past year, and our hopes and aspirations for the year to come.

Near midnight we would push the coffee aside and pull up a bottle of champagne to ring in the new year, hugging and cuddling hoping for the best. At a little closer to one o'clock we would end this meeting of sorts while each individual heads home, sober and wiser.

Any ideas where this kinda shindig is happening?

Hopefully, next year it would be in my apartment.

haven't blogged in quite a while

I haven't blogged in quite a while and it's been healthy.

Why:
I don't think as deeply. When I have tender moments that scream to be written down I just nod and absorb them in my thoughts, hopefully to retain them in my memory log book.
I just feel that sometimes its' good to think simple, pleasurable senseless thoughts. Don't you think?

However, let me try and summarize as succintly as possible the past few days:

My house is filled with paintings. I got one for Xmas, and then I got myself one, blew up two of mine and framed them and then I am finally closing my eyes to get my only original one framed. (for the same amount as the last time except the frame is wood as opposed to blue metal)

I didn't get the camera. I shall hopefully move that expenditure to the first week in January I have finally narrowed down my wants to the one I want.

I didn't use my Xmas bonus money to get the camera, I used it to pay my bills, and then just spent the rest on useless stuff yesterday. It's so ridiculous that I can spend a hundred dollars before noon. But I shan't try to dignify that with some reason, I was just stupid.

Xmas morning was gentle and meditative. I went to church which was surprisingly filled with old people, I suppose they were the only people who weren't at home opening presents. The service was somber, not rejuvenating at all, unlike back home, everyone is so garishly dressed and rejoicing. After the service, I drove myself and my presents to my sisters where we proceeded to open presents for over an hour. I didn't even take any pictures.

The high point was me taking a nap before dinner and waking up to find my 4 month old nephew cuddled up beside me. Just opening my eyes to see that vision of loveliness and peace with his eyes clasped so tight made the day feel so good.

Friday we drove up to Helen and sampled some wine. Nice journey to another end of town. My sister swore she must spend Xmas some place else next year, in home Xmas just does not cut it for her naymore. I seconded that.

Saturday we spent indoors mostly. me trying to watch Pirates of the Carribbean and nodding off each time, and by 9pm I finally called it a night.

On Xmas eve I finally had the nerve (brought upon by so much alcohol) to tell that guy that nothing was ever gonna happen between us. He was sweet about it and it kinda touched me for a second. I mentioned him or the issue of him to my sister and she concurred, yes, he is a scrub and no we do not need any of that.

I am back at work trying to update this thing for the umpteenth time without my boss walking in. Any errors excuse them.

I just hate Christmas and New Years because after it comes January and January is a scary month, because then you have to come down so fast from the high that Xmas and New Years have put you on, and then, those bills are waiting to be paid with money that is not bonus-related. January has to be the saddest, longest fucking month in the whole entire year.

That being said, I just wanted to talk about...me.

I haven't thought about Keanu in a long time.

Not because I am amusing myself with this new guy.

And not because he is so mesmerizing that I sometimes forget Keanu when I am with him ( I wish)

I am just getting older and I am caught up with how to make my life better as opposed to whining and pinning for a man I may never have. I remember watching Something's Gotta Give last weekend and thinking: So I can never have this man, so I can never have this man, are you telling me I can never ever have this man, NO, so I can never have you?

Everytime he kissed Diane Keaton I cringed and something stung me inside as I thought, so I can never have you and it is sad.

So that is how I think of him now, as if I am finally laying down the torch of love and facing life alone to open my eyes to see what's out there and what I can do about shaking up this life of mine to possibly mean something.

I shall talk about something else next time, perhaps what I hope for for Christmas when everything actually goes quiet inside me.

Little of This and That

I am just in a rut, somewhat, because of several things.

1) I want to buy that camera (Canon Elan 7E or Fuji S5000) for myself so bad, for Xmas, or at least before New Years. I am like that when I want something I just want it, NOW. But I cannot afford it! NOW!
Pathetic.

2) I fear I may have said terrible things to that guy on Tuesday because he didn't call me yesterday. I didn't call him either but that is besides the point. I just feel bad because Karma is a terrible thing, it may come back to bite me, then I will be left wondering what did I do to deserve it. Should I apologize, and just say, "Hey I shouldn't have said that,"

3) I don't want to be at work with all this work to do, when it's a WEEK TO XMAS!!!

4) I got my mum a present or something I think she would like and then yesterday, she starts to mention something to me, totally different than what she wants for Xmas. Meaning go back to the mall, and get it for me.

5) We have an office Xmas party this Saturday. This speaks for itself if you know how office Xmas parties go....GAH!!! it is rude not to attend, but I do not want to go.

In other news...Brad Pitt turns 40 today. What kind of world is this when all the hunks I knew and adored growing up have turned or are going to turn 40.

Brad Pitt, Keanu Reeves, Johnny Depp, Russell Crowe, any more...

I wanted to talk about you yesterday. About how I chuckle at your stupidity, how I wonder if it could ever be captured by the strength of a black and white lens, how it is amazing how that picture clicks in my breath.

It just didn't seem right. I have me and you have you, how content do I feel even without you in it, and you should feel overwhelmed by the idea of me and how impossibly appealing it may seem that this object could be seen as...yours.

It just becomes inevitable for us.

I met some mildly interesting young man the other day.

I went into Applebee's on Monday night to have dinner, and he was seated beside me. He talked a a little with me and he asked me for my number, so I gave it to him. He called right after work the next day and we've been talking ever since.

This is as much as I know of him that makes him the lukewarm solution to my dateless state--mind you I am not comparing him to KR, I swear I am not.

He is my age--29.
He works as mechanic, I think, for an auto dealership.
He lives with his older brother and his family.
He has a 7 year old daughter.
He is from Puerto Rico.
He has a red-neck accent.
He does not have a car.

You can insert loser/bum/lazy ass idiot at any point in here. However, after staying single for almost four years I have realized that I should stop being picky, to somewhat lower my standards (not everyone can be as perfect as KR) and to just let it flow.

He is nice and polite and calls me every day. I brought him to my apartment on Thursday night and he didn't try to take advantage of me. He was such a gentleman about it, he didn't even ask me to kiss him. He shook my hand at the end of the evening.

To me it's all about getting laid for Xmas. Yes, I do want to since it's been so long. But this isn't feasible, it's stupid, and I should really stop returning his calls right now.

On the one hand, I can't help thinking about sex every time I think of him, I shudder to myself and think this is my one chance at having sex. But on the other hand I do not want to sell my self short, I don't want to the desperation of this forced celibacy to make me do somethng I will regret and possibly hate myself for. I have been in this kind of situation before and it was scary and humiliating. That was the old me, the new me should act a little older and wiser.

Insert advice of the day here or tell me I am stupid, it will help.

I have been avoiding him for two days now. I needed some me time to do some thinking.

I am still chuckling over KR's interview last night with Jay leno where he described his turning 39 as a monumental event in his life. Heck yeah! I thought I was the only one who looked upon birthdays especially the ones that have you turning an age as if it were...some unwilling rite of passage. It made me feel somewhat good to know that we share at least that one thing in common. Then, he talked about this real expensive chair he liked but he couldn't get because it was over two hundred thousand dollars. Knowing how rich he is, it just crushed my heart so much to hear him think about spending realistically. I was like Whoa-o!

There is a reason why I like this man, I don't understand why and sometimes especially now, I don't accept it, but most times it's blatantly obvious. It's just sad, really, a sad love story to add to my other sad love stories.

Why are doing this to me...gah!

Sometimes I think this is one of the reasons why I am still single: I have high taste and I compare everyone to you. I often cannot concentrate and I think, why, what for? Why are you doing this to me?

It's supposed to be a busy day at work for me, but I've been filing the same document for the past 3 hours. It goes through one time and the next time, thought flurries just overtake my person and it's "why are you doing this to me?" all over again.

Will there every be someone that compares to you, yes, there was but I lost him, will I ever have a chance to breathe you, maybe when I stop thinking so much. Is there a reason why I am still single and stupid and just foolish about this whole thing? I suppose there is, but it may not have anything to do with you; it just may solely be about Me.

Why are you doing this to me?

I am not mentally challenged or stimulated to do or write anything unlike me, say a month ago, before and a little after viewing the matrix.

I was going to get myself a camera for Xmas, digital nonetheless so I can post and share my pictures online with much frequency. But I have been so confused of late. It's "get a film camera, get a digital camera, get a digital SLR." I just bleeding want to share my photos online and possibly create some kind of quality prints I can put up in my apartment so I wouldn't have to buy someone else's ruddy prints that have probably been reproduced ten times over.

So the jury's still out on which kind I will get.

I cancelled the framing for the painting. And I did a mid-week outing yesterday which I didn't regret. Not at all.

A Sunday Prayer

Hail Mary full of Grace, the Lord is with thee, blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus, pray for us O Holy mother of God that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ. Amen.

Lord, give me wisdom, strength of service and grace to do your will above all. Grant that I exercise patience, and forbearance at life, its people and its shortcomings, grant that this week shall be blessed by your Holy hand, in everything that I do I pray that Your goodness and mercy leads me through. In Jesus name. Amen.

Effortlessly Cool

Forget everything I said yesterday. Because I went out today and I spent $140 on Artwork for my teeny apartment--that no one visits enough to appreciate it--and $15 on lunch, all these on myself, not a stitch for anyone else. This spendthrift nature of mine needs a cure. I wonder how rich people can contain themselves.

My sister is accompanying me to see Something's Gotta Give next week Friday. She said she would meet me after work and we'll do the movie and dinner thing together. I don't mind it, but I hate watching Keanu movies with my sister (or with anyone else for that matter). Then, she will start to ask the question that I avoid everyday: Why do you like this man? A question I have asked myself one too many times every time I sit here and always have to type an entry about him or that relates to him somewhat. She would frame it so inncently: I don't get it, so what do you see in this guy?

Then, I would have to ask myself seriously as opposed to casually which I do every day, what the motives or inspiration is for this unfounded, one-sided admiration. It just puts a mirror and a discerning eye to what I am going through, and sometimes I want that mirror and sometimes I am content living in oblivion. Then, in my lack of a reasonable answer, I just might say: Because he is a good person, inside and out. At least the side I know of him except if he chops up women in his basement or has a deep dark secret (a la MJ) then I would be put aback, but for now, he is a good person and it makes him beautiful to me, and that beauty keeps me hooked on him day and night without any reprieve. Now, can we go have dinner now?

I hate weekends like this.

Where I do not get paid, and my house needs cleaning and I have to go out in the cold to use my credit cards to Xmas shop (as opposed to using money if had any) And the worst part of this ordeal is I am not the most generous person on this earth. I love to give, if I am overflowing with money and my heart is cheery and I am ecstatic about some good news. But when I am not all these things, I find it hard to break a piece of what I have to give. That is not really what the Bible teaches us, I know, it says, we should give when our pockets are the tightest not when we are the "richest.". To make up I came home and addressed some Xmas cards for my former employers and a few of my friends who still bothered to keep in touch.

I know I promised I would keep the presents simple this year, but I would hate to be crowned the cheap one. I bought my nieces watches, and that's it. I feel like Scrooge since that is all I got them. I am hoping I can get them something else that's nice and cheap but until then, this is it.

I just did a little Keanu surfing right now. I know Somethings Gotta Give is showing tonight (a special sneak preview) at the mall I spent the entire day in but I didn't want to see it. What's the difference in today and next week Friday. For me it's a whole paycheck (if I can survive this week, *knocks on wood*) but to Keanu it's just waiting a week to watch him, no biggie as long as I still get to see him. I read up some articles about Keanu and his money. I hate it that every article now wants to concentrate on keanu and his money. It's a little distracting, I don't want him to have to attract undue attention in Hollywood and beyond because of this money. Can they skip it, and concentrate on somethng else, almost as if they are obsessed with it? He is going to make $100m, he is going to be the richest man in Hollywood...who, my Keanu, the simple man Keanu? Can we skip that bit and just turn our attention to something else...like bees attracted to honey, it's ludicrous.

I suppose he is rich now, because he was generous with the "hollywood money" all these years, cutting his back pay here and there, buying stuff for stuntmen, that was generous of him considering people don't like to be like that in this world, that is reciprocate.

Which calls to mind, the beginning of my post: my stinginess, and unwillingness to give. There is no strong reason I am just selfish like that. I see a deal I would much rather have it for myself than share it with anyone else. Accounts for the fact why I am alone and why I admire him so much...he does stuff I wish I could do.

I shall try to be a little more generous, I shall try. For God's sake and Keanu's. He is a prime example of God's teaching that says: he that gives gets in return.

In seven days, Keanu comes to a movie theater near you.

Who-a!

I am so ready for a Keanu experience. I have been for awhile, been secretly conducting my Keanu countdown.

So next week Friday, shall we say some dinner and then Keanu...

What a way to bring on Xmas.

Reading the cheesy Keanu biography in my car during my one-hour lunch break for the past six weeks, has been one of the most relaxing, therapeutic and enlightening experiences to have come my way in the longest time. That and watching KR in any movie, are divination ordinances I love going through. The book is slowly drawing to an end with just a few pages left and I shall miss it. I shall miss sitting there soaking up pieces of a life that are described with heightened accuracy and a splendor that can only attract a fan. I never knew reading an unauthorized KR biography would give me so much pleasure, open up a path of imagination and realism. Like now I know that he gets shit-faced one time too many and that underneath that handsome, resplendent facade is a man yearning to be left alone, for escape and for quiet of the storm. And who has his bad days too!

I like that.

I have so much to talk about but I can't seem to want to coordinate myself long enough to put them down.

Right now, the most daunting thought for me is that I may have to go the Diet Pill Route. I have tried to get this weight off but maybe my willpower isn't as strong as the urges I harbor and it often or not takes the place of good sex, which I know I can't get now. So, I am thinking, Diet Pills but what if they are bad for me and affect me in regard to my deep-set yearning to have children once upon a time in the future.

There are other thoughts too. Some Keanu related and some not quite. I have stopped thinking so much about the "career advancement" and moved my thoughts towards buyer's remorse (TG day weekend can do that to you) and my account deficiency status. In between I think about vacations and trips to exotic lands; every time I pass some weird type of clothing, I say to myself, it looks like something I would wear when I backpack across Europe, I would send my friends a picture of me from Rome and it would have me, beaming, wearing a cheesy T-shirt such as this. I also think of having a man who would share such interests: the love to travel and explore adventures over foreign countries. Then, from there it would go to my thirst for London. Not so much the people as the place, the beauty and serenity of some areas of it. Asides from the fact that they are blessed with the artistic hand-me-downs of America, I think it is a pretty tame place to settle down; quaint and surreal.

Then, somehow in between all that, I think of him. What was he up to on TG day? How I missed him and sat there wondering if he was bored with Turkey as much as I was. If he had more of the wine than the dinner, just like I did. I think of all other chaotic, non-traditional things he may have been up to on that day and my deluded mind wanders to the lustful nature of "superstars" and how they imbibe much too much on special occasions and then, my human nature thinks, he is too boring, he may have been curled up at home with his sister doing something boring just like I was.

It takes about a minute for all these thoughts to pass through my active imagination. But that one minute is sufficient...for me.

I saw this critically acclaimed movie yesterday: Y Tu Mama Tambien

I do not know what that translates to in English but it was a heck of a good movie. Haunting, realistic, fun and just touching. A lot of glorification of drugs though, for those that can get influenced by that kinda stuff, but just realistic, the pain in it is so close to anyone. I hope someone decides to do an English version of it and leaves all the good sex bits in.

It's been an age.

I went to spend TG with my sister. It was refreshingly different, like a mini-adventure. It's so surprising that my sister and I have so little to talk about. I had fun playing with her kids and watching their expressions as we watched Matrix Reloaded together. It was a good time.

I got back yesterday to get my house ready for XMAS and to prepare my mind mentally and otherwise for the week.

There is a lot to be said but I am just so knackered right now. I went to Hops for dinner, by myself and despite the fact that the place was requesting from me an upbeat atmosphere I just couldn't muster up any from myself. I was just down. (the food was ridiculously bland too but let's keep that to ourselves)

I want to thank God for the good times and for the bad. For the times when I retrace into myself and for the times when I look at myself and yell, I can't believe all He has done for me. For the quiet times and the sad times, for the creativity, and the drought, and for the memories of all the places I've been, and for the future I can only ask that if there is one constant let it be that He shall always remain with me, during all the times that time may tell. I shall always love and respect thee O Lord, be with in my heart as I toil. Amen.

Since it's such a slow day at work, and everyone's mind is fixed on Thanksgiving dinner I may as well just post this and let it all hang out in here.

On Thursday night, while most of you may have been watching Friends, I was in a mini-accident. It was a fender-bender that got the guy in front of me stopping so hard, I had to stop hard and this richocheted continously until the third guy, the culprit of this action rammed into the car behind me causing her to ram into me.

It bent my bumper out of shape a bit and gave it a lot of cuts and bruises. But it had us parked in the middle of the highway while other cars sped past us for about 15 minutes until the cops came. I was shaking. I had to dial 911, the very first time I dialled 911, and the very first time a cop asked me for my driver's licence and registration. It was one of the firsts that I hope is really the last. All through the ordeal I kept saying, "something good is coming, something good is coming, I am sure of it, there is no other explanation for this, nothing else can explain why I am in this right now, so undetermined, so pointless." I never thunk it in a million days. I remember thinking, this isn't the end of the world, Ke's been in one a many fender benders, and he pulled through, so hang in there. My mind was just going haywire while my hands continually shook.

Everything is fine now. I had to submit my car for repairs with his insurance company and they in turn issued me a rental. The rental is a new car like mine but its still a rental--I want my car. The cigarette smoke fumes in this car had me choking all the way to work, I felt like Sandra Bullock in Speed, saying: I love my car, I miss my car. And I don't get to see my car until tomorrow!

I am just in a funk now. My 4 month old "baby" is in the shop and I can't concentrate at work. I feel as if I shouldn't care too much but when events (semi-disasters) like these happen it makes you care and you start to think, Ouch! My car does smell better than this one, it does move faster, I feel safer driving my car than I do this one. Where is my car again?

It's petty bullshit, I know.

You should see me today, I look somewhat like KR in this picture (see below). Not that I was aiming for that I just felt like, being stupidly good-looking, I suppose.

The reason for the pointless post: I just felt like going light-hearted since I have been concentrating on the deep dark issues that compound my life for a long time now. Since the Reveolutions premiere I haven't been cheery but occassionally depressed Anita. So, this is one that just says, "Hey I look good today and I wish you could see me... but I guess the systems haven't configured our paths just yet. Not yet."

Week of Nov 24, 2003

I pray that this week turns out just the way God intends for me. I pray that His merciful Hand will guide and protect me from my enemies and my friends. I pray that He will participate in my life, leading me to its fruition and to the best that this life He has put me in has to offer. In Jesus mighty name I pray. Amen.

I was feeling so out of it yesterday that though I logged on I just felt drained of energy to put down anything worthy. So, I watched the VH1 behind the music on the Spice Girls and called it a night.

I hope the week turns out a little more adventurous.

kinda

I am feeling kinda left out of the mix. Like there's a big clique of "doer well's" and I've been left out of it. In every aspect of my life, even my obsessional existence, I am just left out of the big clique-y thing and I am left to watch them from afar and ohhh and aahhh that I am not with them...again.

Several things brought this on, but hopefully when I read this sometime later probably in about two years I shall remember what the fuck I am talking about.

This morning to revenge on my upstairs neighbor who was blasting her TV so loud at 6 am, I put on Reloaded way up high on my surround speakers, so loud I could hear it in the shower. And for the first time I actually listened to Morpheus speech to the people of Zion and made sense of it without judging it or criticizing it secretly in my mind. I always got distracted by the fact that keanu wasn't in that scene so why really should I pay attention to it, and the elaborate set up of Zion...why? if Zion was made up of about a hundred people it would have still made a little sense, that just a paltry sum of people escaped the wrath of the matrix and are living on. I just thought Lawrence Fishburne must have thought some kind of nomination would come from it for he played it as if it were...Shakespeare.

I am rambling and I apologize. I had a real hectic day at work today. I got home, feasted (bad anita, bad) and crashed on my couch snoring away. I just got up now and felt it was time for some one-on-one with my laptop before I officially crash for the night.

Sometimes life is so fucking hard to live, you know. It is hard to live it with your chin up and to keep going even though you didn't make the clique, or you didn't get the guy (even though you should have) or something. Every time I see someone, I ask myself maybe if I had looked like her, I would have had a better life. Isn't that sick, low self-esteem, I know. My boss told me today that I seemed happier, she wanted to know if I had a boyfriend or if I was "fucking" someone. I smirked. Maybe Keanu in my head but that's about it. But nope, I am not seeing a real life person. Not like dating anyone would change my perspective on life but that's another story. I am just having fun living in my imagination, seeking spiritual fulfillment and cleansing my thoughts in the hopes of getting more inspiration for my story. If that is making me happy, let it be.

Let it be.

new week prayer

I don't think my mindset is ready for another week. It's almost 11pm and I am not even preparing my self for another boring week ahead.

I just logged on to pray for my week since I had started it off with such sordid thoughts as below. I need to pump myself up to face the week, maybe not with adrenalin but some kind of inspirational surge of energy, a mysterious ray of light sort of, just something that would prep me for the humdrumminess.

I know Lord that I may not know what I want or what I think I want may not inevitably agree with Your ideals for me, but I pray that in all these questions, doubts and confusion inside me, You are able to identify the one thing that I want which will bring me happiness, that will make me happy and quench the thirst for happiness inside me. That will bring out the true Zen in me. I don't know what it is, and I can't phrase it but since You are all-knowing, I leave it to Your able hands, and pray for that to come true everyday from this week onwards. These and many more I ask of You, O Lord.

You'd have to be a newcomer to this journal if you don't know who this is about.

Why do I think of fucking you?

You have a show coming up and my deluded mind says, maybe you can come over and we can shag while the show plays, you make fun of me and my enormous thighs while I make fun of you in the show, whilst we fuck like dogs, better than dogs like hungered beasts.

It was never about fucking you. It was more than that, a lot more beautiful, it was about one day, 24 hours hopefully that would change my decadent existence to one of a momentary bliss. Just a day to you but a worthwhile experience to me. There would be no fucking, only if you don't want to, it would be me trying to distinguish the myth, the perfection from the reality of the persona in front of me, sharing the day, being the day speaking or just listening. It was also about the idea that we could work together. At least this is what I say to Him in prayer when I ask for that opportunity to share the myth, I ask that He differentiate the lust from the love, and the love from the obsession, and the craziness from the rationality and delusions from the perceptions, and for the day to inevitably become mine, my 24 hours of momentary bliss.

Then, why do I think of fucking you?

Maybe you've seeped into that part of my brain that thinks sordid thoughts, or I've let you into it. You are too good for my fucking, I wouldn't want to put you through that. Because if we do then we can't talk, I can't know you, and you wouldn't want to know me, even though you've just "known" me. Everyone I've fucked doesn't, and I think too much of you to let you join that clique. It just betrays everything, it's dirty and common...what I feel is a lot more beautiful. But if we can't talk, and if you don't want to then, I'd take fucking as distant, and impersonal as that can be, I'd take that, in my one day if only it were my chance to have you be in me...not only in my mind.

So I'd say we should fuck some time...I would really like that, and then after that, I promise not to think about you, not even of you fucking someone else. I promise.

couple of things to say

I am feeling very tired after the whirlwind day I've had and I should go to bed but there is a racket going on upstairs, so I shan't fool myself that I can get any sleep if I lay my head down right now.

I just had a couple of things to talk about really, I felt this was place was deserving of a proper update since I've been away for quite a bit.

I spent about $57 tonight entertaining myself. Imagine me trying to spoil myself rotten, it's just insane the way I spend money. Not to bore you with such stupid mundane details but I just felt it was worthy of mention because of certain reasons

1) My sister and the family are out of town on her anniversary which happens to be today --and idiotic me failed to call and wish her that. This is the first time since I moved here some 4 years ago that she's gone on vacation, everyone of my family is out of GA, and I seem to be the only one here. That is a daunting thought. The good part is, I am now on my own, not tagging along like I often have.

2) I guess because she decided to spoil her self I decided to do the same though on a much smaller, more selfish scale. and besides it's payday weekend. I have 10 days to be broke, and for the first couple of days after payday I can spend carelessly.

I took myself to see Love Actually today. Brilliant, brilliant movie I can't say enough about it. One of those movies that makes you wish Ke was in it to make it brighter, more eye candy but I trust the Hugh fans must have found it wonderful. I did even though I am not a fan. It was a good movie, and I almost cried, in a good way, not the melancholic way as in Matrix Revolutions, but in the "I can't believe love is really all around us" way, and I ask, if it is, what happened to me?

I found myself wondering today the fact that in my entire life, no one's ever had a crush on me. No one's ever wanted me, really wanted me and admired me from afar. You'd say how would I know, well, if you want someone long enough, they'd know. It's like staring at a sleeping person, with time, they wake up, if you love someone that much from a distance, with time they'd know, if they'd love you back is a whole other story....but perhaps. For me, it's never happened.

It's always been vice versa. Me loving them, hopelessly, stupidly, unreachable, impossible people...but never one single person loving me.

Hmmmm....

I just thought I'd throw that out there in case anyone wonders why I am often melancholic....NOW YOU KNOW ONE OF THE REASONS.

We'll talk again. I promise.

Character

Every time I see Anthony Kiedis I often feel he is a story waiting to happen. Something about him, he has so much character, the multiple attitude, emotional content of his songs and his general complexity on stage and off, often dabbling into acting. Plus those tattoos. I wish I could appropriately describe him, like really describe him in a story. Opening scene here comes Anthony and I describe him so perfect that the reader falls for it, and sees him in my eyes. But he is just too complex to succinctly capture.

Yes I still love KR. But Anthony is intriguing. Intriguing.

multiple colors

You should see me today.

I have on this light blue and white pin striped shirt, with a white under shirt on, and a grey and black pin striped pair of pants with white socks on. I don't know how I thought because of the pin stripe quality of the shirt and the pants they would go together. My co-workers must think I am color blind.

I did a lot of mental writing as I drove to work, something about that traffic inspires you. Hopefully, after the first hard part of the day I shall go on to writing them down just so I don't forget.

As to the rest of the day...there has to be a solution somewhere for this boredom. Lord I am sure you have some hat trick you can pull, please pull it like NOW.

Yesterday was a weird day at work. The website we use to file our work electronically was down for repairs, so we had to just basically prepare the work and wait, endlessly.

The weirder thing about it was my yearn for some content to read on the web. Blogger was lacking of any updates whatsoever. I kept pulling up this exact update on my main page, and it bothered me. I felt all the people on Blogger may have been abducted. Don't ask? Even as there were no entries, I just couldn't make one of my own. I didn't have enough inspiration to make a proper entry. There was not enough content in my life presumably.

So I moved on to other areas of the Internet for material to read. I happened upon some KR sites. I don't know. Inasmuch as I am obsessed with him (there I said it) I find it hard to go to websites completely devoted to him. It makes me feel weird, it puts a mirror on my "obsession" and makes me feel worse (there I said it again) As if it speaks to me and says: this is what we all look like and somehow it doesn't look too good, it's more than a hobby at this point, it's an..."obsession on a hapless man. He'd think you've lost your mind to take him this seriously."

So that was the weird day. It was purely a mix of boredom, self-examination of one's motives or lack thereof especially at work, and just general feeling of fading melancholy.

And you thought I was boring.

Sometimes I think I've gone too far, I think this is close to obsession, I think, you wouldn't want that heartbeat to stop when they mention the word obsession do you? And then, sometimes, I play off something and it makes me feel as if, it really isn't that bad. Even if it is an obsession, it's a healthy obsession, and it makes me a better person and a stronger person, likewise all my faults. However, the fear of bordering on insanity just looms so large.

A co-worker last week asked me why I was often so melancholic, and distressed with my environment. To tell you the truth I have always been like this, I've always searched for an escape from the present and even when that escape comes I get bored with it so quickly that it suddenly becomes time to yearn for another. She termed this predicament as being bi-polar. That's a new one. Me, bi-polar who would have thought?

I had a very frightening day today. There are some days that happen that just make you so afraid of the day, of the week considering that today is Sunday, the begining of a new week.

Rundown on my day:

5:09 am: My aunt calls us (my mum and I) long distance to ask how we are doing. It seemed too bizarre to me that she would call at such an ungodly hour but she had a bad dream that soemthing bad was going to happen so she felt it was time to call to see how we were all doing. My mum hears my phone ring but neglects to pick it up even though she can. She feels it's my house so you should go pick up your phone.

5:39 am: I try to go back to sleep but can't so I, obsessive compulsive Keanu freaking fan decide to cull my thoughts on the double dose of Revolutions and put up a decent, freakishly honest, personal review. Yes, it does contain spoilers, but to me those things don't matter, I would see a movie despite the spoilers told to me ahead of time. It's the artistic expression that matters not neccesarily the plot points.

8:00am: Review is done, put up on my site and I try to go back to sleep. I know by the time I wake up I would have incurreed the wrath of every Keanu fan six million times over, but regardless I put it up. I just feel that this is my point of view and if no one likes it, hey go suck on a lemon. The reviews I read on the movie were harsher than mine. So much harsher than mine, at least mine I liked it nevertheless. Those reviews were so sad, I should have put bits of it in mine.

2:00pm: My mum and I go to the mall to return a blouse she got at a thrift store the day before. Why she would go thrift store shopping, is a mystery I cannot solve. There is so much on that but I really don't want to remember it. The summary, she was angry I was angry, and I almost ashamed of myself for being angry. I should hate being angry now, that was the whole point of this obsession.

9:00pm: Keanu's E true hollywood story airs. More unbeknownst melancholy erupts inside me. Where from, I wonder. No content whatsoever in the documentary. I guess I shall just await the day he turns up on Inside the actors studio, hopefully to talk about our movie.

10:00pm: My review has disappeared from my website. Where is it, did the warnerbros people just pull the plug on it because it is filled with spoilers.

It's 11:00 pm now. I should go to bed another week awaits, and I shall try, dear Lord help me to try my best to be less distracted, more focused on the prize, and mentally and physically prepared to do Your work. Yield in me the inspiration that I seek, and please drive away all the anger, please dear Lord. Amen.

okay I changed my mind

I just got back from seeing the melancholy inducing movie on IMAX. The IMAX experience changes everything. It just enhances his face, the action sequences; it gives more detail to the facts and the sound quality is superb, the heroism is more heightened. Then, you see that face on a 60 foot screen--amazing.

The good part of it is I think people liked it. They thought it was less complicated or filled with riddles and philosophical mumbo jumbo as the other movies. Good for them! It just instilled in me this melancholy (as if it was not there before) that I am trying hard to shirk. I wish I knew where from. I assumed it was the vulnerability of Neo in this one, he was not as assertive and resound in this one as he was in part 2. He was more of the reluctant hero, unsure, going-with-his-virtue-or sunken belief thereby hoping it would lead him to some result, just like part one.

I've said enough. Too much. I shouldn't talk about one single person like this as if he is a god.

One thing I do not get is why do guys hate him so much. They gave us this survey to fill out to find out what we thought about the IMAX MATRIX experience so to speak, which I was too glad to fill out. As I sat down I heard the people behind me chuckling: What do I like about the movie? I like the scenes that didn't have Keanu in them, any scene without keanu reeves in it was fine with me.

How can you say that? He is the movie, then if you don't like a scene with him in it, why did you come here, he is Neo and thus the whole foundation of the movie. What is wrong with people? What did he do to them, seriously? I haven't met a man--except my brother and possibly Laurence Fishburne--that likes him.

The jeers got worse as I walked home everyone talked about how sunken his skills were, leaving Trinity to fight his battles. I had to keep it in not to speak against them.

I shan't talk about this again, I promise.

I am okay

I am back and I am over my Matrix slump. Well, I had to quick because I have tickets to go see it again this evening. I feel I should hawk the tickets or something. I never thought I'd hear the day when I would actually want to get out of seeing a KR movie.

This is a great day in Anita's life!

I woke up today with a need to pray. I don't know if it was the end of the world impact the movie gives you or just me feeling sorry for myself after I saw it. I don't know. I just needed to say, Lord, how are you?

I am kinda glad the whole trilogy thing is over. It had fans crawling out of the wood work for him.

On the drive home I had planned out this poetic thing I would write on here to sort of describe how I feel, to encapsulate the stupidity and doubts I have inside, but now...I feel different.

I just got back from seeing Revolutions. And no, it is not Friday yet. Friday the day I was meant to see it, it is Thursday and I couldn't resist it I just had to see it for sure, so I shell out 8.50 to see Keanu. After seeing it I just have this to add:

If I didn't love him so much, really love him like I do, I would ask him for a refund. This would total 21 dollars I've spent on seeing this movie. The torture gets worse because I have tickets to see it again on IMAX tomorrow. Tickets I know I shouldn't have bought. To put my self through another torturous two hours watching this movie.

What a sham! A waste! I should have listened to the critics, it was just pure total bullshit. They kill Trinity and they don't even give us a good movie to make up for it. All through all that could make up for it was the fact that I kept saying to myself, you are one fine mothafucka, so damn fine, why are you there and I am here. Then, they cover up the eyes, in the one scene where he should show emotion, and express with those genteel things, they cover the eyes, is it a scheme, maybe he couldnt play the scene well enough with his eyes open? If I can't see those eyes, why am I even watching a Keanu movie? why? That's his one gimmick, Brad Pitt has his lips, Tom Cruise his angst, Keanu has his eyes. The movie was just total bullshit.

I had more fun watching him in The Devils Advocate recite about choice and volition and play off Al Pacino. I had more fun watching Uma kick some ass in Kill Bill Vol. I, there was more tension involved in that. It's just like Quentin said, they build it up so much and in the end it's just some animated bullshit and it just disappoints you.

I could say more except I still have to see it again tomorrow.

I am so mad to bits...

This is God's way of telling me it's time to let go of my obsession and to think freely. Free my mind from the restraints of the hype and perfection that surrounds keanu reeves and to just be me, my own person, the creation of me to be set free. This is His way of saying, its time.

A little bit of this and that

Yesterday I rushed to bed. Rushed. I wanted to start sleeping early so I could wake up good and strong. That was not to be. I was not that tired. And my upstairs neighbor wasn't either, and she was busy having a love affair with her TV. I regretted not spending that time online.

That was just a little foray into how you learn your lesson.

I have a few new things about me:

1) I changed my cell phone, got a new handset finally and upgraded my minutes. Now, the dumbass phone won't ring. This is after I've suffered $105 worth of extra minutes. Now, the phone cute as a bug, it won't ring.

2) I didn't go to see The Matrix Revolutions today--opening day. *I think Congratulations are in order for me exercising some form of resistance.* And rightfully so. It was pouring out! Apparently, it was pouring in Tokyo too when Keanu counted down the minutes till opening morning. It's supposed to be good luck when it rains on a big day so let's see. The reviews are in and are they bad? Some of them I actually agree with and I haven't seen the movie. I'm just judging from the clips. One of the reviews got me all riled up when it read that, Neo and Trinity were missing for half of the movie. Okay, so who are we there to see? Certainly not the Zionites.

3) My mom is coming to spend the weekend with me. So I may or may not have time for a proper MR review. However, I wasn't hoping on it, because I am a little overdone on the K front, if you ask me. Reality is kinda winning the battle and it isn't pretty.

And that is the update for today.

It came from yesterday to a time that would lead to tomorrow, to a time I thought you would find me, to the time when I would look at you and not feel the needle pierce my skin as I ache for a way to say I do not hurt, not as much. It came from yesterday to that time when we were unknowing of what could come to be, of what one stare could cause us to believe...It came from yesterday and it runs to endless.

All weekend I have been doing a lot of manly thinking. That means thinking about men.

I have been hearing about a man and reading about one man in particular.

My friend in Kansas is lovesick. This guy she didn’t really like but only liked because he expressed the least bit of interest in her dumped her. He turns around and dumps her out of the blues. He just doesn’t feel they are “compatible” enough to sustain a relationship. She didn’t even like him, don't you just hate that, I don't really like you and then, you turn around and dump me! It hurts, more than you know. She said she wakes up in the middle of the night with a pounding heart, begging for an explanation, and the only way she can respond is by crying, wailing.

I asked her honestly to think about it, what did you really like about him. If you can find ten things that you like about him then, go ahead and cry but if it's just your bitter self telling you "you do not deserve to be dumped” then, it's just a bad case of bruised ego.

On the other hand, I have been reading about one man in particular. In between all the press on Keanu, his face on every magazine I know and on AOL's home page, and on every station on the freaking TV, I have just about overdosed on him. And that's hard. I kept mixing my feelings for him with my friend’s reaction to her bad breakup. When you hear someone talk about the cons of a relationship like that continuously, it just unearths all the things you hated about relationships that caused you to stay so clear from them. The insecurity during sex, and outside sex, and this specified male making you feel you had to be this person just because you were dating him. The hair always had to be in place, the face, and the waist. It was a rite of passage I could do without, now I am content with the constant longing of the impossible, and it fills me until such a time when I get an overdose of it.

In between my pep talk with her, the first night I dreamt that I dated Keanu and he screamed out at me that I should really stop because we are not compatible.
And I kept telling him to escape his ideas of a perfect woman and accept me as I am. I held his head in my hand and spoke to it: Free Your Mind. Free Your Mind.

Heartbreaking nonetheless.

The second night which led to this morning, it was worse. Nothing I can remember but nothing good enough to remember. I woke up sweating and deeply saddened.

I mentioned that I hated reading about those interviews, because it takes you to a place I can't explain, it's like too much information, too much said about the same things, not enough said about something. I want him to be a mystery, I enjoy the mystery, I really don't want to know all these, true and untrue falses. I do not. It saddens me, in a healthy way.

It builds the mood to write some good stories but sometimes I am just too sad to write a thing I just want to sit there and sulk.

I haven't heard from my friend all day. With any luck she has patched things up with this guy. Her pain just brought up all these feelings I had been running away from for so long and successfully too.

She kept going: I can't believe I am going to turn 30 without a husband.

As if it was an abomination of some sort. Which to her it was. I just don't want to think like that, I am not ready to think those kind of deep-set unsettling futuristic plans right now.

This is the written script of my life. I live it. Why should I judge it?

I ask that this is a good week for me Lord. That this week the first week in November is blessed with the Lord's hands in my life. That he watches over me, my thoughts, gently quietening the storm inside me and that he guides me safely to everywhere i need to be. I pray that my miracle is on its way and that even if it not this week that I shall observe the Lord's teaching as I carry out my life this week as I await it. I pray for forgiveness, mercy, restoration and for the Lord to inspire my 'truly original" idea.

Protect me from all evil and lead me through life's turmoils with Jesus steady hand guiding me through.

In Jesus name I ask this of you O Lord in my life always.

I spent all day stemming from yesterday, spending money by paying my bills and then managing the accounts that I paid these bills from. The start of the month is always the hardest time for me because I have to pay rent and then from there the other bills that cannot wait and do not have any grace period. I spent all that money yesterday and I didn't even leave my house; just by sitting infront of my computer and all my money was gone.

It's the worry of having to pinch and scrape that got me longing for a kiss to make it feel better (see below)

I spent today at work reading my entries from this week last year. It's so amazing the work that God has done in my life, and wow! what a difference a year makes. All the things I longed for, the career job, the kinda job that required my brainmatter as opposed to my perkiness---I got that. A career-fitting car to go with my career-fitting job--I got that too. That was a dream come true, almost a fluke. And then so many little perks in between--I got them.

And then, this year I am longing for an extraordinary thing to happen to me. This has always been the underlying intent of my prayers but now all the outer layers have been peeled and then, there it lies, that extraordinary thing that just defies all odds in the course of events waiting for its day to occur. I still want it, I want it more than I can say, I want to get married and have a bunch of kids, because that is not extraordinary---everyone does that. This is what I want, if I can have my name on people's lips for something good that I've brought to their life's, that would be the peak of my existence. To exist in being is an amazing thing.

I am not greedy...I suppose I am not. I know that as we grow our tastes and wants for this life expands and we become hopeless pieces of air...maybe.

Either that or next year, you all might never remember that I am here.

Will you?

kissing bandit

I am suddenly overcome by the urge to kiss someone. To just have someone's lips envelope mine in a soft passionate way that lets you breath, lets your lips breath while your heart pulsates, and then, you stop intermittently to look up at this kisser's face, knowing he is the one you want to kiss, and that you want to continue kissing, to show affection in this subtle, intense way. No sex, just me laying here kissing you, listening to your heart race against mine wanting every part of you with our cheeks flushed so hot we can almost burn through to our pulsating nerves. I just wish I could kiss and feel the tongue touch mine, and the eyes say, "Yes, I know. Let's just kiss, maybe sex will come later, but for now, let's just kiss."

That would feel good, wouldn't it?

it's about him (Keanu) so look away

Finally we agree on something...something that I know about. This is from some UK magazine: ARENA, and I like how he openly adores Kill Bill and picked out the superb, unique qualities from the action sequences just the way I did or experienced while watching. And he wasn't afraid to gush about the heroism deep-set in the movie. A true movie fan.

I hate reading Keanu articles, it puts you in this place and you just wish it was a journey you needn't go.

Lastly, I'm curious to know what you made of Kill Bill?

I thought that Uma Thurman kicked some motherfucking ass. I thought she was awesome in that. All the acting was great. He took every great cinematic...it was almost like watching a fan, someone who really appreciated and enjoyed certain aspects of the genre. he just pumped it up to some incredible level.

That fight scene with Uma and Lucy Liu's henchmen reminded me of you and all the Agent Smiths.

Yeah, I guess, but he's doing his own thing. The way that he pumped up the blood, the massacre! He's so good editorially, he's great at tension, at creating pockets of heroism. It's almost like pornography. You know how pornography is really great, but sometimes you feel dirty?

Right, and it's uncomfortable watching porn for two hours straight.

Yeah...and that scene, when the kid is coming home from school? The editing in that, the confrontation between the violence and what is normal, innocence and the loss...he consumes everything, his films are fun, but ...I don't know what they mean. I'm a romanticist. It's not that I need a happy ending, but I do need some sort of restoration, getting out from the traps of life.

DO YOU KNOW ME?

I get bored with life, with my environment, and my tasks so easily. It's part of being a Gemini but it's also an inherent uniqueness in me that I just get bored with everything around me so quickly that I am just seeking to transcend into another set of activities.

These days my apartment is quiet and I am bored with it. It always used to be that way and that is exactly what I wanted when I decided to move out on my own but now, I am sick of that quiet. I come home and sit on my couch and watch TV and end up making comments about the shows to myself. Isn't that sick? Like I am so lonely I have to start talking to myself.

Then, work. I have been bored with work from the moment I got here. I don't do anything, yesterday I did nothing and I actually liked it. I made a few calls, filed a couple of stuff but all in all it was 30% of my usual capacity of work in a day. Now, today I haven't made one call, I have taken one call but I quickly dismissed the lady so I can go online and surf.

Then to my online habitat. I am bored with that too. My writing seems so minute to me. I am not inspired by any truth or untruth or in anything that is worth telling of on paper. Though I browse on here multiple times at work and I don't feel the need to put down a message or one other. Then I decided to do a sweep through the random feature to get some new friends but that only brought up people that write in French, Russian or whatnot.

It is so bad that not even Keanu's movie opening next week can shake me up. It's feels sorta like "Okay, another confusing turn at the Matrix lodge." Worse off since I saw a clip of him and Agent Smith flying in the air as they fought. What is that...cue me in...what is that?

I may go see Meg Ryan in that movie In The Cut this weekend. I need to see some good old fashioned R rated stuff, with skin, swear words and crime scenes just like they used to make it back in the days of Seven and The Fight Club. Nowadays, every movie is so afraid of being risque. Let's see if that will put a jolt through me. Or maybe not.

I just wanted to say...I am fine. I just needed to express the nothingness inside me and vent freely. And I actually used the "down" time to build some storyboards inside my head for the Simple series. Now, if they could make it on paper, that is another thing.

Rejection in all its Glory

Rejection, anyway you look at it, no matter how many times it occurs to you, hurts. It hurts like a motherfucker. It's as if someone rammed a syringe through your heart and injected it with acid, and within time, the acid lets your heart implode inside you into minute burning pieces and you just feel like vomiting the bits of it that are broken, but you can't. You just have to suck it in, ingest it and let it consume you and hopefully you can find the strength to forget it and move on.

Rejection, be it the rejection from a job interview--that job that you really really wanted and you went out of your way to go for the interview and then, weeks after you don't hear a word and then, Bam! the "Unfortunately we cannot hire you" paragraph begins and you just lose it. Or it could simply be just another job opportunity that you were considering, a better career move, or a loan application, or the good old fashioned rejection from a loved one, from a crush, or worse off from, someone you don't like who thinks you like him so he feels the need to reject you even before you reject him. Or another worse take on it, it could be from the "you have been pre-approved" credit card people letting you know you've been pre-approved for a credit card so it gives you the need to apply and when you do, they actually have the nerve to tell you that you've been rejected. Fuckers! why did you ask me to apply then, you did ask when you said, O% APR and all the you've been pre-approved crap. Fucking idiots.

I just can't find a logic good enough to help me build a wall around it. It hurts every time, even though I am half-expecting it, even though I believe something that can't kill you will make you stronger, even though I know that the glass is half-full, every time it occurs I just wanna hit my head on a wall, or just stand somewhere and scream so loud it deafens me. I just feel like driving my car somewhere far far away abandoning everything that has meaning, doing something erratic and introspectively meaningful to me, to go to another state or to some other place, somewhere that I can fail silently and shamelessly. Just to fall off from everyone's critical list and to become that great wall of hopeless confusion.

Needless to say I got some kind of rejection letter today. It was both the ignore you rejection and the polite "stop sending us your resume because we are not interested" rejection. It hurt like a motherfucker. I just remember Keanu's last interview where he told the reporter: "When people say everything happens for a reason, that sticks in my craw." True because there is no reason for the kind of hardship that life has dealt me, I went to school, I put in my two cents, I was a good student, I love hard work and I crave excellent results, so why is this not all falling into place for me. Why do people find it so easy to tell me, NO, when they can quite easily tell me, Yes.

What is the reasoning behind all this that I can't comprehend?

I am going to stop now before I start to cry...

I pray that this is a good week for me. I ask the Lord for patience and will to do a good job. I ask that He protects me from all dangers and leads me through the path of righteousness. I pray that the things I know and the things I understand and accept as the Lord's teaching shall become a huge part of my well-being and my ideals. I pray that the Lord is with me in everything that I do. I pray for peace, for His gentle hand to the place we seek and for everything else Lord, I pray that you shall remember me when you give out your blessings.

In Jesus name I pray.

Amen.

Here's to the last week of October.

so many bits to me

There are so many bits and pieces of my thoughts that I want to put on here. But whenever I log on I lose the inspiration or I am rushing to read my email and do a whole bunch of other stuff I really shouldn't be doing online.

I did it to myself 3 nights in a row this weekend. And my face looks like it's glowing. My breakouts cleared and the tenseness vanished. I was actually nursing a smirk. Can you imagine if it was the real thing...but I doubt the real thing can go three nights in a row and achieve excellent results every time. I never think about him when I am doing that, I think other things, bad things, he is the good part of me, the calm reflective side, even if his face, his eyes come into my thoughts for a second while I am at it, I just try to block it away so it wouldn't ruin the mood. Seriously. He is the good side, the angelic side of me. Maybe that's why this feels different. The fact that it is not sexual at all. More like medication.

However back to the thoughts I want to write down. I have made a list of them. Tidbits from his interview in Details, Quentin's interview in Rollingstone, Lucy liu's interview in Jane, and just my general dysfunctional thought process.

Last night to get me into the spirit of Shelia and everything else in between I tried to read some of my old stuff. I just couldn't. I got bored and went on the web to surf for gossip. Why do I get bored with my own story when I should be its no. 1 advocate. If I get bored think what the general population feels like.

I shall write these stuff down someday before it becomes stale thought process. I shall write it.

We shall talk again, I promise.

I sleep so much these days. It's 11 pm on a Friday night and I am sleepy. I just want to go to bed and sleep till early morn, but my upstairs neighbor is blasting her TV and I am not about to do that right now, besides she is supposed to be out and about, and I am sure she is under the assumption that I am out and about, and I am secretly wishing that I am. But I am not. When you get older it's like there is nothing else to do...go to a play, I did that. Go to a club, I already did that and badly too. Then, there's a long list of stuff, the only thing I didn't get enough of is.... London. Sex, I did, I made you think for a minute that I was going to say sex, no, that I did, as much as I wanted to.

This is funny cos last week, we had the birthday lunch for two members of staff. The guy that just joined felt the need to open up at lunch after just one glass of chardonnay. Anyway, the topic once again fell to me and my lack of sex, men and everything they come with. I said I didnt feel there was a lack in my life of men, sex, etc. I felt it would disrupt my concentration. I would be thinking about him all the time and in between that I would forget what it was I was to do at work or otherwise. Everybody begged to differ. However, the guy turned to me and said, "when I first started working here, I thought you were a virgin."

I gasped. Me a virgin. I sneakered. "No," I said in response. "I've been around the block," I replied with no shame whatsover.

Back then, the people that knew me, knowing I had "been around the block" would feel that I should have some shame, some dignity, or self-respect for myself. But now, the new me, knowing that I have shirked that so much that it is non-existent, to the extent that I am thought of as a "virgin," I have no shame in confessing that. Yes, I had torrid affairs and what have you...but that was the old me.

It's the weekend I should be doing something with myself.

smoldering eyes

smoldering look on the cover has me talking to it when I walk into the house. I smirk and wonder aloud: Am I actually talking to a magazine, every nerve in me wishes it was the real thing I could walk in on, and the real thing would ask: so how was your day, did you make a killing?
fine, now can we fuck so i don't have to think about it?

Now, you know why I am in need of a pet.

Comments section is missing

During my hiatus, I dreamt that I got a pet. A little puppy dog.

I think it stemmed from the fact that my boss brought her dog into work the other day and everyone was dotting on the meangie thing. I remember telling her when she got it that it is the lonely woman's companion, along with a book and the telly. A good pet. Every single person in this neighborhood has one. Then, in my dream, they told me to make all these payments to the apartment complex, to upgrade my status from the non-pet having to the new pet haver. The amount of additonal money I had to pay was enormous, but I still wanted to keep the pet. I dont know what that dream says about me. All I can tell you is--I do not want a pet, I can talk to it but it won't talk back. And then, I'll have some thing to look after, it's hard enough looking after this great big apartment that I have to constantly make sure it's clean, linear, and wonderfully decorated but then, a living thing.

I wanted to respond to my former entry. Unbeknownst to me, I had expressed similar views on a previous post. I had no idea that I had, and me not wanting to screen myself I didn't think it would be reasonable to edit it. But it is repetitive to have to read through double doses of me whining about one adorable man. However, even though I am acknowledging the fact that this is my journal and I have the right to say whatever it is I want--albeit repetitive--I just wanted to point out to anyone out there who may just be bumping into this stupidity for the first time.

--yes, I do think real thoughts--about the starving children the world over and what we can do to save them. Yes, it is overwhelming when you think the world is consumed with hate, and hypocrites that judge you at every instance.

--yes, sometimes I would like to believe that stuff happens for a reason and sometimes no matter how hard my philosophical bullshit brain thinks about it, I may not come up with a reason, none whatsoever. Sort of makes you wonder, so why the fuck did it happen, and why did it have to happen to me, why now, why at this time?

I think it is at these moments when I am consumed with all these riddles of life that my poor hapless self cannot change that I bask in the "stupidity" of a hopeless longing for an unattainable dream. And I wonder, how did I get here? How did my brain get so sapped of everything eloquent?

The dog maybe a good idea.

Sometimes I am under the illusion that if I don't write on here long enough that someone will actually notice me missing and then send out an APB and wonder, "What has become of the great mind of Anita? I miss her sombre reflective notes." But no one does.

I have been battling a mixture of feelings since I wrote in here, too multiple to put down on paper. It's somewhat a mixture of being strapped for ideas, and being elated beyond words, and feeling want for more inspiration and having to search for a concise way to put this all down without sounding too complex. Also, I have been on a "career" hunt. yes. That is always an emotional rollercoaster because it makes you question yourself, your inadequacies, and wonder why someone is putting a mirror to them for you.

And in some ways, I have been Keanu-ified, if that is a word. I bought this horrid bootleg book that is supposed to be biographical called The Keanu Matrix. And being that it is Matrix season again, I am bombarded with him everywhere, on every talk show, article, website, every piece of media. Then, my own want and lust for him, and my insecurities and distress that this is one of those far-fetched dreams that defies all the odds known to man come gaping at me begging for a resolution.

Everytime I hear him say, "I want to be in a relationship, I want to be happy in a relationship, I just want to be happy." It calls to mind my own thoughts as it voices them completely and more concisely than I have been able to in my 2 years of writing this journal. And it makes me think, he wants what I want, except I want something in addition, which is him, and that I know I can never have, and perhaps this is the deep set reason for my displeasure with my life, with this world, with every situation I have been put in, that there is a lid to the things I can't have, and he epitomizes it.

We'll talk some more, some other time.

st. anger

Sometimes I think maybe the cause of my deepset anger and disdain at the world is the fact that the things I really really want out of life I may never get. And there isn't anything I can do about it.

I want Keanu, I really want him. I need his company and his person, I know it will be good for me, I am sure it will be good for me. It may complete that side of me that is forever yearning, searching, wondering, and it will ease the blur in me and quench the fueled anger. But I know I can never get that. Even though I know he needs to be with someone just as much as I need to be with someone and have been for the past three years, I know we are not God's gifts to each other, he is someone else's and I may never be anyone else's I shall continue to live my mundane life in regret, in anger that this one thing I want I could never get.

maybe that's why I am so angry. Maybe that's why when people ask me are you disappointed with life, I just stare at them, aghast unable to put my finger on it. Maybe this is why...it hurts a heck of a whole lot.

it is my life

I haven't written in a while because it hasn't been good at all.

Work has been the shits and I've been so afraid to write it in here. My boss and the other attorney actually had one of those sit down let us shit you out talks with me and since then, maybe it is my paranoia, but things have not been so good at all. I keep seeing everyone gather together, whispering to themseleves, involved in gist that doesn't concern me. And I just think maybe they are waiting it out before they gently let me go away from this misery into more misery. It's been trying and to the extent I do not know what to feel, good, bad, or just scared, disappointed in my self, something that I felt, I was so cold when it all happened that I missed my writing class on Wednesday and I have felt as if I am walking on pins and needles ever since.

My brother came. I feel bad that he is seeing me go through all this. But his visit is helping me get through this. He's spent sometime with me at home and it's been good for me. But when the week runs out and I know he is going back soon and I am going to have to continue with this panic, it scares me.

I shan't talk too much about it. Let me end it here, I just hope it gets better.

Lord please let me have a good week, let thy powers of thine enemy, the tools that they have fashioned against me, let it be destroyed by your Holy Grace O lord! I ask that you shall teach me patience and humility and I ask that you teach me perserverance even when the instruments are trying. I ask that you protect and make me strong against anything that shall be set before me. I pray that your mercy and miracles prevails over all else. Amen!

I had a very very peaceful slumber last night considering that I had tumultous day. Must have been the good dinner maybe.

Any slumber that involves Keanu, me and his hands in bed has got be a good dream. I could feel his hands all over me. I was watching him play and he just took over the crowd with his guitar in that Led Zeppelin sorta way. I kept seeing little glimpses of him here and there, so clear it was almost unreal.

I stirred round about 5 am wondering: Is this for real? And why did awaken? And smirking to myself at how good that felt.

I just thought I'd write that down...

Yesterday was the perfect day.

The weather was just warm and toasty, I felt groggy and good after my morning cappuchino, I had a little change in my pocket, had this new linen shirt on, my best pair of jeans, and it was good to just have all that time to myself to drive, explore, stop by and view some art and just know I have nowhere to go but I am going to keep on going anyway. It's too beautiful to stay indoors. A perfect Sunday.

You would think a perfect day would lead to a perfect week. Not so, not from the feel of last night and today.

Last night my upstairs neighbor has a love affair with her TV and I can't get any sleep, I don't know if it's the double expresso or just CNN at 1AM that is making sleep seem so evasive.

I go to work, and there are a lot of issues. I am just not happy doing what I do. It is not the worse thing ever, and it's good money but I am always stuck thinking: so this is it, so what else, where can we go from here so we don't keep saying, yes sir, no sir for the rest of our adult life.

I have a high level of happiness attainment. It takes a great deal to get me happy or it could also be the simple things: the weather, the fact that I can enjoy a simple morning with expresso, a relaxed pair of jeans and just a gentle walk through the mall without bumping into mothers and children. Simple things. And then, there are the complicated things, like : I went to school for 6 years of my life, all that to end up as what, why don't I look forward to doing what I do, why do I feel like I am going to be blamed for every little mishap that happens.

It is an endless struggle, the search for profound long-lasting happiness. Sometimes, when I think I am so close, I just know those demons would just come visiting and then they'll wonder: are we being complacent with what we have here, what is it that we have that we are resting on our laurels for? What?

I just wished my perfect day would blend into the week. I wish I knew what would truly fill the hole in my heart and make my happiness seep through, become longer lasting, and just feel blissful, a radiated kinda bliss.

Yesterday while watching Wanda Sykes--whom I had just dreamt of the day before--she mentioned something about how she feels about aging. She said to combact the fear of aging, she has her mind set that she has not aged since she turned 26. For her that is a good age, a good time, an inbetween woman, lady, girl time. I just thought back and I just couldn't remember anything of consequence that occurred to me when I was 26. So I moved to America which was one of the biggest mistakes of my life. So I achieved the life long dream of living with her, and then I spent a whole year doing nothing. Not going to school, not producing, nothing. I just waited. I DO NOT want to be 26 again. It was the most inconsequential year of my life. And I hope and swear that 29 is not following right behind it.

The source of this hole is still unknown and I am sure in some aspects even God is puzzled by it. He is probably going: I give up. I give you America, give you the 9-5, give you your own apartment, a new car and still you're not happy. What is with you woman?

I do not know. A little more creativity perhaps. The chance to pick my own hours, a sense of adventure in my tasks, and a little trust in my abilities. Then, of course there's that power lunch factor that I've talked about incessantly. And Europe. I would love Europe. Just in case He is taking requests. And some of them are randonmly touched on below in my depraved wishlist.

I just want the choice to know I am climbing a ladder of adventure and opportunity and if at any point I don't see that in my immediate future I sink into this. I am a woman after all.

I won't dance

I saw The Rundown last night. Late Dinner and a movie that involves the Rock isn't a bad way to start off the weekend.

As for the movie, atmosphere of the theater would make it more enjoyable than it really is--but it's FUN. Action movies are not about the depth, senseless displays of machismo bravado. My definition.

Saw the Matrix Revolutions preview for the first time. I have to confess I am not one of the people who is counting down the days to see this one, even though I shall be first in line that day to see it. Reason: You have to turn down the keanu-ness at some point, I would see his movie either way, it's not about the matrix for me, you know.

But the preview looks good. I hope for their own good, that is the brothers, that they made some changes after the heavy-handed criticism they got from Reloaded. One has to yield to criticism somehow, sometime, it's what keeps the world revolutionary.

Now, I am speaking in tongues.

Under the Tuscan Sun awaits.

E! Online is doing an E! True Hollywood story of Keanu coming in the Fall.

Am I excited about it?

HECK YEAH!

A little perturbed though about some things that may be revealed, somehow I do not want to know that much about him, all those behind the scenes details that they uncover, may not be good. The element of mystery that shrouds him arouses me more. And I just do not see him as the kind that would sit in a chair and narrate some tales from his past. He just doesn't feel that "open" about himself. But I may be wrong. Nevertheless, I shall tape it and watch it over and over.

I went to see my oldest friend today. Everything about that visit was wrong, so wrong. I just felt inadequate and I felt she felt inadequate, she kept looking for stuff wrong with my life just so she could use it as her means to feel better about herself around me. Then, she went on and on about my car, how come it's new, let's see it. She made such a fuss about it I turned red. But I haven't changed, I don't feel like I am over and above anyone because I have a new car and I live in my own apartment. I am still me. I don't want to be a proud person, I shall hate myself if I ever turn that way, and you don't have to feel inadequate around me because this is not the pinnacle of me. This is just 10%, there is more I hope for and I know with the Lord watching over me, it shall come to be. But to feel defensive, inert jealousy, and just inadequate around me is cutting it a bit too early.

After a very uncomfortable conversation which lasted about 30 minutes, she looked into my car and said: (Big sigh) the only thing missing from your car is a baby seat. A husband and then, that baby seat in the back.

She doesn't even know me and that just makes me sad. I wasted my time thinking I had a friend who understood me. After 18 years, she doesn't even know me.

I trust we shall still talk and she shall still make a big deal about where I am now, and maybe she may shed a tear or two about it. But as she does so am I...because this is just 10%, a lot more could be possible and hopefully shall come to be. I shall shed a tear hoping I don't lose what I have whilst I gently climb the ladder, with my eye on the prize egging it on to the top.

Here's to a good week, God's blessings and protection and His loving kindness in my life, keeping me grounded and Peaceful.

Strangely I was thinking of Ke today. Whilst eating alone I found myself thinking about him. I wondered if he enjoyed it or if in some way he's getting sick of it as much as I am now, 9 months to 30. I was eating a bowl of pasta with that tomata basil sauce and garlic bread, and I remembered he liked to eat that because someone's sighted him eating that twice. I just thought, why? Because it's the kind of food you just want to dig into and you don't want someone else sitting on the other end of the table staring you down and it's just a feel-good feeling to sit and slurp by yourself.

To myself I just said a quiet prayer thinking: If you get what you want and what you want is not really what's good for you, maybe that's what 's wrong with this whole picture. Don't you think?

Is there a time I am not thinking about him?

YES.

It may seem uncanny because I always talk about it when I do and it seems to take over every entry in here sickening you all. But there are some moments when it's not even what's on the menu. This week for instance. When I am at work and it is so fucking hard, I never stop to think about him. Or when I am thinking of what in the heck am I going to do to this life of mine to get the career I want, I dont include him at all in those kinda thoughts. Those are realistic future planning thoughts and I must concentrate. He is not realism, more like a fantasy, escape, childishness, stupidity, obsession, and then more stupidity.

I just wish it could stop. You wish that one day you wake up and that heartache and continous longing would have stopped. And everyday you wake up and it's still the same feeling. That whatever it is feeling?

Whatever it is...

I am getting kinda sick of being by myself?

How about you?

I'd rather

I'd rather be you...with your impressive smirk, seductive stare, strong like the foosteps of an ox, brave just as one who dares to walk in front of it. Perverse, as if it were the order of the day. I'd rather be you any time of the day.

I started a creative writing class on Wednesday. I now I have a reknowned respect for housewives and their writing skills. It is a lot better than mine, me, the world traveller, dreamer, imaginary artist. I was at a loss for words to just sit there and give them my words. It is so hard to write under compulsion, as if you are put on the spot and some of us don't do too well with that. I have to be inebriated or high on Keanu before I can put something reasonable down. But compared to what they've been writing I now know what's been missing in my work:

I have not been writing with my five senses.

What are you talking about Anita? What five senses? I don't even know what they are...I don't feel my words the way people do. She said, instead of saying: It was strong.
Say: It was strong as, compare it to the strongest thing you know, that way the reader feels how strong it is.

I don't see or feel it when I write. I just write it down, more like a narrative. It is not as expressive as they would expect it to be.

Anyway, enough about me. Even though this is my journal.

It's been ho-hum lately. One minute I am high on myself, and the next minute something just brings me down and I am crawling, picking up my jaw from the ground. I feel that way right now. I heard that is the best time to write and since I haven't been infront of this thing all week, I decided to try my hand at something but it will be hard to write it and "feel" it per se. It's hard enough just to write it.

I didn't go the gym. I feel really bad. It is not too late though.

MY wish list

I am feeling depraved tonight so I thought a wish list would alleviate my suppressed pain.

I wish I had a British Accent. People say I have one but I know they are just ignorant. A real British accent would have better inflections and pronunce better than I have when I talk.

I wish I could enjoy a slice of chocolate cake, the thick kind with a cup of steaming cappuchino without wondering how many calories this is costing me. Not for any special reasons, just because it's Wednesday and I want to sit and enjoy a cuppa filled with some sugar before I continue the day.

I wish I grew up with rich parents who could afford to send me to Ivy league schools and tendered to my every want.

I wish I could unearth that one idea that would lead to the one book or script that would elevate me from mediocre standards to superb fabulous standards, to written in history books as the one hit wonder from Nigeria.

I wish I could take walks to the cafe, sit outside in my slippers and eat breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast. Drink a lager no matter what day or time of the day it is and just laugh as I chat about the soccer league with a group of my true friends.

I wish I could call in sick from work. Just lay in and do nothing and not feel as if my job is in jeopardy. To feel at ease with the quality of work I am putting in and to work even harder for that coveted promotion.

I wish I had a job that took me places. Involved travel, banquets, luncheons with other staff from other jobs, involved so much more exchange of brain power.

I wish I had a boyfriend. Not because everyone is having one, But because I need someone to go over my day with, to stroll to the cafe or pub with, to eat buffets with, to curl up in front of the TV with while we talk about my family. So when people ask: are you seeing someone you say, yes, yes I am with a refreshed smirk on your face.

Keanu -ayyy

In my bookstore hopping, I read an article in US Weekly I think that said that Keanu ate alone on his birthday. It went sort of like this:

He was eating spaghetti alone in a corner booth in some restaurant on his birthday. Hefner, seated not too far away, offered him some playmates for company but he refused their company. He said, I just want to be by myself today.

This made me beam in an awe-filled way.

I always eat alone. Most times, on my birthday. As a matter of fact, I ate alone today, and yesterday. Sometimes, I enjoy it and sometimes I do not. Sometimes I need to. Today I did and yesterday I did not.

Something about that news just made me gasp.

There is a connection even if it is only in my imagination, there is one.

I guess that takes care of the girlfriend-in-a-red-bow theory that my sick head had concocted would take place on his birthday. Unless that already took place earlier that day and she was too exhausted from it to join him at the restaurant. Who knows? I wish I did.

Bookstore hopping

This weekend I decided to treat myself since my co-workers were under the impression that I do not treat myself during the weekend.

I have been bookstore hopping. Meaning, I go into a bookstore not meaning to buy anything but I just sit there and peruse their books and magazines, I read them to my hearts desire and then I leave feeling fulfilled like I've gotten a good dose of study to last me all day.

That is bookstore hopping. The surprising thing to me at first was the fact that no one stops you from reading those books for free, No one compels you to buy or bothers you at all. It is almost a sublime experience. A shopping experience without all the bother. It's amazing, and there are fellow geeks alike seated there perusing, free-reading just like you.

And you sort of map out what every person's interest is from the aisle they sit at, maybe scrawled on the floor or seated on the couch beside it. Me I do them all, except maybe self-help, cooking, biography those sort of human interest sections. I do them all. Thats why I can't take my computer with me because it wouldn't give me enough time to shuffle between the aisles.

The books I perused gave me the formatted brain power for my work. I remember asking myself: so many books get published everyday, good and bad, so why not add another "not so good" one to that mix? I read journals, one in particular that had sold 3 million copies, which to me wasn't so good made me consider publishing mine. But then, I gasped, I already have by putting it in here. I read "beach" books, of which Bridget Jones's Diary falls into that category. I read books on how to write which are really just some person's way of pretending to know the key to good written work when it's basically inspiration. Then, I passed by the banned books section: I never realized Lord of the Flies was a banned book. It was a must-read textbook in my literature class in high school. Why is it banned?

I shall do it some more perhaps tomorrow or next weekend. I spent at least 5 hours combined in 3 different bookstores, isn't that the darnedest thing? The foolish things that give me joy. But I see way too many people in there so I am sure they are enjoying the absorption it just as much as I am.

really!

An old friend of mine called yesterday wanting to know if I actually do fantasize about sex, men, and if I have any dirty secrets. I don't know how much of all that is in here, but I know I do talk about that a lot in my other journals, and occasionally in here.

I remember asking if that would be the one thing that would quell my perpetual anger and disdain at the world. I remember wondering that this was possibly the reason why my skin is so bad, and I have been breaking out uncontrollably because I haven't had sex in a while. It's a myth but it's true--breakouts occur in a sexual recession.

Funny that he should mention it because, a week ago, the day of the dollar stint of the Matrix Reloaded (I can't remember if I mentioned it in here. I didn't get to see it in IMAX instead I went to the Dollar Theater to see it, shows how cheap I can be) the guy that I went with, I don't know if he was offering sex or whatnot, but he asked me if I wanted sex, (or maybe he was wondering why I don't talk about it as much as I used to) I said No.

I don't really want it. I just feel like it would make me lose focus of what I really need to do with my life. When you start to have that kind of relationship-less sex, you lose control of your faculties cos sex takes over and all your mind goes to are: when will I see him again, what position should we indulge in today or what neat trick can I do to keep him permanently aroused? This is not all I really need to be thinking right now. I know where I wanna go and I know I have a whole lot of things to do. I just need to focus on that and not start the whole sex bit.

In other sex-related news, I had a dream last night that I was having one of those instructional sexual episodes with that guy Smith Jerrod--Samantha's hunk in Sex and the City. This is funny cos I dont really like him. He is a hunk alright. he has the goods, tight bud, six pack everything but he is just not my type, his eyes say nothing to me, and you know how I am about those eyes. But we were at it, and he was telling me ways he could turn me on, cradling my naked body with such masculine prowess and we were hiding this from Samantha. This was the plot to some Sex and the City spin-off show that he's on that he's the main star to, that was actually named The Smith Show.

I have lost my marbles.