Emotions run high in this one

I had a fantastic weekend. Filled with friends and fun. And of course work, there is always work. Some days I think I will never get away from the store and into my actual career. Part of it is my fault, I should have researched better, but I wanted to be able to work (who needs money? this girl!) and go to school at the same time. Part of it is the bureaucratic methodology of the State towards certification. Ah well, I'll get there. For the nonce I'm getting some stuff done...or at least I was until I went on vacation and then took a leave of my senses and motivation for the summer. As the new school year has just started I need to get my butt in gear and I think this weekend will be the moment that I've been avoiding for so long, the time to get the certification and the endorsement figure out.

But really why I'm here...so much happens in such a short period of time lately that I don't know how I have the time to experience it all. The weekends of my summer have been super busy and full of fun. People have visited, parties have happened, people have gone abroad, friends have moved across country, I've lazed around, I've visited friends, and I've worked. Somewhere in there I've also had a lot of beverages, beverages of every ilk, but most especially coffee and beer. The coffee keeps me going on days like I had this weekend...drinks until 2am, asleep at 4am (or so), then work at 6am. For a few days in a row. So instead of sleep I run on adrenaline and coffee. Although it would seem that for the most part I function the same no matter how little or much sleep I get, everyone points out that I am always "on" and it's hard to tell when I'm sad/tired/otherwise anything but happy. I guess that's OK for them, but for me it can be exhausting. I guess I'm only really tired or sad on my own time, in my own home, where no one else is liable to notice. For the most part this seems logical to me, why would I want anyone else to deal with my emotional baggage? Anyhoodles, I totally got off point here. I was trying to outline my insanity and put it down on the page (I can't say "put it down on paper" anymore, cause I haven't done that in a dogs age). Somewhere in here I got lost and started down an introspective road that I hadn't anticipated. I'm not sure I want to continue on it for the moment, so I'll skip ahead to a new paragraph that has nothing to do with sadness and has to do with the freaking adrenaline rushes of crushes. Flip side of the coin, yo!

A few years ago a buddy of mine invited me out for an evening with him, one of our college friends, some of his (work?) friends that travelled here with him, and his digital entourage. They were a motley bunch; underage, my age, and somewhere in between those two age groups. Essentially, I'm trying to say this was a large group of people that just connected across gaps and demographics with my buddy at the center. We were always a weird pair. He was a friend of mine first, then he dated a good friend of mine, they broke up, he and I remained friends, she and I remained friends, but I know things are fine between them...I mean, it's been years and marriages later. Anyway, he and I always got along well no matter our differences. I think it's the big personalities. I mesh best with people who can hold their ground in the face of my own outsize personality and he certainly does that. If it weren't for the different parents people would swear we are related (and until this weekend, some did think so). So for a few years, I've been hanging out with him and his group for one weekend a year. But that first time, oh that first time. It had been a long time since I felt the twinge of crush, I mean, I'm in my 30s and I'm supposed to have a handle on my emotions, right? Well, I guess not. First of all, there is always him, the one, niggling in the back of my mind and heart. He won't go away, no matter what I do. Which is OK, we're friends, but that nagging itch in the back of my head won't stop. Until this weekend that is.

I never intended things to turn out like this. I often times imagine the things I'd like to happen and then have them not come true. Then there are the times that I hope things happen and when they do it's all wrong. Well, wrong in the way that they happen as I imagine and then the aftermath is hell or just sad. So back again to a few years ago. This crush thing. He was cute and he was funny and he was totally not into me. Not a problem, I had no designs on anything with him. I just enjoyed his company for the weekend, but my other buddies were around so it wasn't a priority to spend every waking moment with him. Although I'm fairly certain I did my damnedest to do so. I find myself to be ridiculous when it comes to guys. I'm unsophisticated in my tactics of flirting and the wiles of women. Oh well, what can I do? Nonetheless, the weekends over the past few years were fun. I got to see my buddy and some awesome people and just enjoy the time. Now this year was no different really. I felt comfortable with these people from the get go. We all chatted, I bonded with them, we had drinks, played games, and I enjoyed myself. That first night reignited the crush. Oh yes, four years down the line and things were just like that first year with me feeling that flutter, that twinge, you know the one. The feeling of happiness that is just flooding your brain with adrenaline and endorphins that is telling you you're really still a child inside who yearns for all the things in the world to just be good and shiny and wonderful. These feelings crop up every so often for me, these crush feelings, but usually they go away quickly. Mainly it's because I know there is nothing reciprocated and the fact that I have my giant hangup that I won't leave behind (I try, I really do, it just hasn't happened yet). But this time, this time something was vaguely different. He was still there, he is still here, but not the way it was just days ago. Could it have been that kiss, or really, those kisses? Standing on the corner, a bit tipsy, with someone else's fingers in my belt loops and my hands around his back?  I'm awkward and dorky and essentially ran away with a "see you next year" and an excuse of having to get up to go to work in a few hours. But really, I wanted to see him more that moment, and for once, the other was nowhere to be found. And it still feels that way. Granted, it's only been two days, but the feelings are creeping around and I've not slept well and I am anticipating a time in the future that may well not happen. I can hope. And hope it what I cling to most days.

In the residual emotional turmoil I made a play list that I am seriously enjoying. I've always been pretty good at picking music to suit a mood or an occasion, but this one really capture the essence of my bizarre mindset and the way I feel at the moment. Some songs are hopeful, some sexy, some upbeat, some a bit slow, but all make me feel a simple sense of happiness (and crushiness) when I close my eyes and dream.

Oh, he does not live even remotely close. And he is most certainly much younger. But that accent. Uh, that accent.

What was I supposed to do?

I think I've decided on my tattoo. I'm going to get text on my back, maybe on one shoulder/blade, maybe across my back spanning my shoulder blades, not sure yet. I will make an appointment later this year to talk to an artist to help pick out a spot and a font, but nonetheless, I think I've chosen the text too. When I was young, 13 or so, I went to the National Gallery with my family and fell in love with Renoir. Specifically "A Girl with a Watering Can" and "Portrait of Mademoiselle Irene Cahen d'Anvers" which both hung on my walls alongside my collection of stuffed animals and Nancy Drew books when I was a teen. I was a bit odd, nerdy but never picked on, dorky but still on sports teams, overweight but never teased, just awkward. Still am I suppose. Back on track, I learned more about Renoir after seeing more of his work in Paris a dozen years ago. So the quote is his that I want on my back. His response was in regards to his own physical pain, but my interpretation is more abstract and about my simple place in the world. I tend to not over think and just live for the moment, it's my super power. The ability to be happy and see simple beauty no matter what is going on in my life. And there it is "The pain passes, but the beauty remains."

Come February, I'll have my first tattoo.