Sleep Routine – FAIL

I’m continuing to have sleep issues and insomnia, so I decided to make every effort to do everything possible to put myself to sleep last night. I got home from recording before 10.

  • I responded to all the texts in my inbox, and then I switched my phone to vibrate.  I plugged it into the charger away from the bed.  Normally I keep the phone with me through the night so that I can check my email first thing when I wake up, but not last night.
  • I lit candles throughout my apartment, and turned off all the lights.
  • I sprayed lavender and vanilla sheet spray on my bed.
  • I turned on my water fountain with wind chime sound effects.
  • I took a melatonin supplement.
  • I made myself a glass of warm lactose milk.
  • I sat on the couch, in the candle light, sipping my milk, and listening to the sounds of the fountain.
  • I took a really hot candle lit shower.
  • I finished my milk and brushed my teeth.
  • I laid down on the floor of my apartment, and stretched every part of my body while listening to the fountain sounds.
  • I covered the clock in the apartment, so that I wouldn’t stare at it when I couldn’t sleep and stress myself out by watching how late it was getting.
  • I meditated
  • I went to bed around 10:45.
  • I covered my eyes with a lavender filled sleep mask.

And then I laid there.   And I laid there.   And I imagined myself riding on a BART train, since I always fall asleep on BART.  And my entire body felt like numb lead.  My limbs were heavy, and I felt as if I was melting into my bed.

And I was wide awake, and thinking about the fact that I couldn’t sleep.

Eventually I drifted off for a little while, but I didn’t stay asleep.  In fact, the only reason I knew that I had slept at all was that I had been dreaming and I was drooling a little bit.   I kept nodding off and waking up all night.

I got up this morning feeling only slightly more rested then I had the previous nights.

So, if you want to give me some advice as to how I could fall asleep . . . . well, just don’t.    I don’t want to hear it.    I really have made every effort and tried just about 10 different things that are supposed to be “sure fire”.

Tonight, I’m going to pick up the prescription of Lunesta my doctor called in for me.  After band practice, I’m going to take one, and I’m going to get a full nights’ sleep.  Deep, restful, sleepless, druggy sleep.

And I have no problem with that, and I don’t want to talk about it.

Just sayin’.

Awake Again. . . Still

So, my intermittent sleep issues have reared their ugly heads again.   I’m reasonably sure that I can easily trace this evenings troubles back to the source.    

I stayed up quite late last night, talking about everything, which as you know is really nothing.  And nothingness is everything.  

So, I laid down about an hour ago, and I started replaying the conversation, and it’s all swimming around in my head.  And I wondered what the next one is going to be about.  

Then I started worrying about my family.   And, well, that’s totally pointless, isn’t it?

So then I realized that I was hungry, and I was thinking about the bag of avocados I picked up at the grocery yesterday.  They’re on my shelf . . . . taunting me.   

Then I wondered about next Friday’s soccer game, because I’m obsessed with my soccer team right now.   We lose every game, but it’s so much fun running around and sweating like a kid again.  And I was hoping maybe I could convince some more of my friends to come watch me play.

Of course, then I started thinking about coloring my hair fluorescent pink, again.   Trying to imagine what everyone’s reaction to that would be.    

Do you know how much I want to go to England again, but I’m not sure I can afford it, but I’m just going to say “fuck it” and do it anyway.

And I hope that they like the lyrics I started to write, and maybe my bandmates can turn it into something less cheesy than it is right now.

And then I was thinking that I hadn’t written a really good blog in quite some time, because every time I do, I just think they sound whiney.    And I want something that’s just awesomely funny to happen, that’s also not terribly personal, so I can write it up here.

Everything is personal right now, and I start thinking about friends new and old and all the crazy life changing shit that we’re all in the middle of right now.  All of it just swirling around us all, and swallowing us up.  New babies, babies on the way, soccer teams, band drama, weddings to plan, websites to build, places to go, dancing to do, music to make, goals to score or block, and what to write, and will it ever make a difference at all.  

And it’s all just going round and round, and I’m not sleeping, but I’ve got it out a little now, haven’t I?    And maybe when I go back to my bed, it’ll stay here in this blog, and I can pick it up again tomorrow.

And maybe I’ll have a sweet, sweet dream.   And maybe I’ll have some avocado for breakfast.  

Maybe.

Just sayin’.

CSGL – The Movie

You know how there’s that party game, where you have to try to try to figure out who should play you in a movie?

Well, apparently they already made the story of my life into a movie, and I’m played by Dane Cook.  (You’re probably a little confused, but don’t worry, it’ll make sense in a minute.)

The other morning, I was on Instant Messager with Kayphore, as usual.   Blah, blah, blah, I didn’t sleep again, blah, blah, still sick, blah.  Same shit, different day, you know.   And then I told her about a certain realization that I have come to lately.   I am the perfect setup girl.  She didn’t quite understand what I meant at first, so I explained.

You see, if you date me or even if you just sleep with me, within a year you will be madly in love . . . just, you know, not with me.   At least the last three dudes I tangoed with are all, according to them, happy as freaking clams with some broad that they hooked up with within a year of dumping me.    One of them even had a baby with his new lady.  And there’s a chance that some guy that I only ever got to look at may be currently heading in the same direction, but it’s a little too early to tell in his case.  So, dating me sets you up to fall in love with someone else.  How convenient!

Anywho, I was relaying all of this to Kayphore, and she says that it sounds like a crappy movie that she didn’t see.   I responded that it did sound like the kind of thing that could be turned into some kind of banal romantic comedy, and she replied that it was really already an actual movie.   A couple of minutes later, after what I assume was some sort of scouring of the inernet, she came up with it.

Good Luck Chuck starring Dane Cook!

From Netflix:

Every time unlucky-in-love Chuck (Dane Cook) breaks up with a girlfriend, that girl ends up engaged to her next boyfriend. Women are soon knocking on Chuck’s door, hoping that after enduring a few dates with him, they’ll meet Mr. Right, a gamble that works out better for the ladies than it does for Chuck. But when he meets klutzy penguin trainer Cam (Jessica Alba), Chuck realizes that he has to stop being a way station on the path to love.

So, of course it’s in my queue now.   And it’s probably going to be horribly bad.  But it’s like an opportunity to watch yourself in a train wreck.

I guess the question is, who’s better looking . . . Dane Cook or Moi?

cookdane

– Or –

idance

And if you want to be madly in love sometime in the next year, you know, call me . . .

Just sayin’

I Love My Job, But . . . .

Can I please just sit here for another day and do almost nothing?   For the last three days, I’ve spent an average of two to three hours out of the house.    I’ve watched all my Netflix.    I got all caught up on Battlestar.   I’m doing laundry.    I took some incredibly enjoyable naps.   I fixed my closet.   And my saxophone.   Blech!  

I even went out and got some groceries, and made some stuff for dinner/lunch this week.   Of course, not before scarfing some chili cheese fries at midnight one evening.   Sometimes you’ve just gotta run out at midnight, and give yourself serious indigestion.  It’s necessary.

I even went to the gym today.

It’s just been the most pleasant weekend, especially considering that I’ve been going almost none stop for weeks.   

I’VE SIPPED TEA, FOR THE LOVE OF MUFFINS!

I do love my job.  I do like seeing my co-workers.   I don’t want to go tomorrow, though.   I just want to spend another day cruising the On-Demand on my cable, and snoozing under a sea of blankets on my little couch, with my feet on the coffee table . . . without pants on.

Stupid three day weekend . . . you end to soon and you’re cruel.

Just sayin’.

CSGL – Valentine’s Day

So, Clam summed it up in his text message this afternoon – “btw, FUCK VALENTINE’S DAY”.

So I’m avoiding it.   Big time.

Actually, I’m sitting on the couch, nursing a hangover, and overdosing on Lifetime Television for Women.   The only people I’ve talked to all day were bandmates.   I went and had a recording session with Ruckus, and Pedro called.   Other than that, I said please and thank you to the folks at the hardware store and Whole Paycheck when I went in to grab a few things.  

But my one favorite thing about Valentine’s this year, were these flowers that were delivered to my office yesterday with a naughty little note.

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Tulips are my favorite flowers, and I love all the colors in this bouquet.    That’s why I sent them to myself.

Yeah, you just read that right.  I sent myself flowers.   Why?   Why the fuck not?    You know, it’s fun to keep people guessing, too.  Because I only told half my co-workers that they were from me.    To the rest, I just smiled and blushed. 

And the naughty note?  Well, I figure if you’re going to send yourself flowers, there ought to be a little dirty note to go with.

They’re probably the best flowers I’ll ever get.

Just sayin’.

CSGL – Return of the Pile of Pants

Remember a few years back, when I wrote about the pile of mostly clean, partially dirty, stretched out just right pants that lived next to my bed?   

Well, it’s back, and it’s better than ever!

I woke up to my iPod this morning, something by Depeche Mode, and laid there hovering between sleep and wakefulness.  When I knew I couldn’t put it off a moment longer, I leaned over, grabbed hold of the first pair I could get my hand on, leaned back, pulled them up and on, and got out of bed.  

Of course, unlike the “good old days” I now have short hair, so I can’t just throw it in a ponytail and go anymore. 

Also, I now always make sure to eat breakfast.   Usually this is done leaning over the counter.   The time it would take to sit would cut into that fifteen minutes of  groggy that I enjoyed.

So, it takes about twice as long for me to get out the door.

But I’m getting back into my own old habits, instead of living the way someone else expected me to.   It’s not the same exact pattern, but it’s still mine.   

I’m going to be the biggest slob I want to be, because at the end of the day, I’m the one who lives this life in this and lives in this mess. 

And there’s no way in hell I’m going to let go of this again so easily.

Crazy Single Girl Life – Un-Flirting

For those of you following my goings on (Hi Mom!), you may have read some comments on my previous post, and been curious.

Yes, there was an . . . . Incident.    

There’s this guy my friends and I all know, and he is cute, and he is off the market.   He’s also a flirt.   And in this tongue in cheek, campy performance, he was fake canoodling with two of my friends and myself at a bar the other night.   He was literally standing in the middle of us, and giving us each bedroom eyes in turn.  Only they weren’t bedroom eyes; they were “Bedroom Eyes” wherein those quotes represent air quotes, so, you know, he was REALLY serious.    SYKE!

And in the spirit of the over the topness, I did graze his crotch with my elbow.   Or, as they say, his penis with my weenis.  

So, yeah, I guess one could say that I was effectively flirting with him . . . but in the way that I usually reserve for flirting with gay guys, to be honest.

 I still maintain that I suck at flirting.

Crazy Single Girl Life – Flirting

So, I’ve been a single girl living this Crazy Single Girl Life for almost a year now.  That’s a year of going where I want to go, doing what I want to do, out all night, caffeinating all day, seat of my pants, why the hell did I do that, because I could that’s why existence.   I have to say, there’s been a bump or two along the way.   However, it has been an adventure and definitely the ride of a lifetime.  I can’t really complain. 

Except one thing.   There’s this skill that hasn’t really come back to me yet, after the two and a half years of Serious Relationship Existence, I somehow forgot how to flirt.   

OK, so I’m not completely incapable or anything.  It’s just that I’m so well out of practice that I’m just not very good at it.  It’s like I’m in Junior High again.   

Half the time, no one knows I’m flirting.  My best friends see me interacting with attractive men, and afterward, I’ll ask, “was I being totally obnoxious and obvious.”  They then ask me what I’m talking about, tell me that the thought that I was flirting didn’t even occur to them, and that they’re sure the guy didn’t get it.   And I think they’re probably right.    

The other half the time, it’s awkwardness to the nth degree.   I kiss a guy on his cheek and Run.  (Oh Yeah.  I did that.  Recently.)  Or I’m just incapable of completing a sentence while turning Bright Crimson and swallowing half of my words.   

And the thing is, I used to be pretty damn good at this.  I’m not kidding.   And I was so good, and so natural, that I didn’t even know I was doing it.    I remember there was one time I was with Mama Bear and we were at a restaurant.   A very nice looking server was waiting on us.  As soon as he took our order and walked away, she turned to me and said, “I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen someone bat their eyelashes before!”   I didn’t even know I was doing it.  

Today, I’d have to put serious effort into that, and I’d probably be such a spazz about it, that someone would ask me if I had something stuck in my eye or if I was having a stroke!

I had no idea that this was a skill that could be lost, that this muscle would atrophy.   

So, of course I’m not going to be unsingle any time soon, because people either don’t realize that I’m hitting on them or I’m scaring the crap out of them by acting weird.  However, when and if the day ever comes when I find myself in a LTR (Long Term Relationship) again, I refuse to cease flirting.  I will not let myself go again.  Oh no.  I will be a lean, mean, flirting machine.   And, in other words, the worst GF ever.  

In the meantime, all the practice is fun, if not amusing in a sad and pathetic sort of way.