Nothing Else to Write About

I just remembered -- I failed to reply to two people who left a message in this blog.  Will have to make a mental note to reply to them...

The evening is boring as usual.  A slight rain pour is happening outside as I type this.  Turns out there is a typhoon.  Everyone is asleep -- son and husband, and dog are all knocked out , except for me and my daughter, who is in her room and reading some fan fiction love story.

Sometimes I am tempted to write a story and submit to fan fiction.  But then I get chicken when I daydream that it would hit a zillion readers, and I'd be forced to divulge who I really am.  So I guess this blog will suffice at the moment.  To this time I still regret that I had to destroy my other blogs.  Why didn't I ever think of migrating them here, instead of hitting that delete button!

My cough has progressed into a post nasal drip.  The itchy throat is disgusting and I have to take anti-allergy meds because of this.  Which makes me damn sleepy all the time.

Quite crazy, but I dreamt of D again.  Further, I looked and saw that his daughter and I share the same name.  Well at least, my second name is her first name.  Which also happens to be the first name of my daughter.  How odd!  And his son's second name is the first name of my son too.  Doubly odd!  Now that's what I call a strange coincidence.

As I am typing this, and mentioned earlier, all the world is alseep, except for me and my darling daughter.  She took after me -- a night owl.

I shall prolly write about the other men who came and went out of my life.  Among others, only D and another one -- F, tops the list of those I will never forget.  Although F and I never really came to be.

More about them next time.

Irritants and Other Things

As I am writing this, some things are irritating me: 

- my dog who wants to be carried, picked up, and scratched.

- my shitty husband who lingers behind my laptop to do some things I know may be postponed for tomorrow.

- and the thought that I've wasted at least 3 or 4 blogs in the past -- whose contents are of equal importance as the ones written in this present one, and which I decided to delete in the past because I thought my situation at home will improve.

No. 1 irritant is already taken care of.  Spoiled rotten dog is on the table, close to my laptop.
No. 2 won't be taken care of unless I get a machete and run amuck here.
No. 3 will never be brought back or changed. Ever.  And I've had so may interesting stories there.  Too bad I just decided to open up another one recently.  Too many wasted thoughts thrown away...  Too many recorded feelings wasted.

I am sleepy and my head is spinning.  I've just had the flu and the water tastes so bitter.  Wish I could drink like my girl friends.  This entry is a random thing.  I was just thinking -- how the hell did I end up with a fluke husband!

I finished my BA with honors.  Took my MA and got a decent job in education.  Now am working on another degree and hope to shift gears later on in the working world.  When I get so fucked up in this house, I do my sign language stuff and shitty husband doesn't know what the hell am I saying!

When I go out with my girl friends, they often think how fortunate I am for having a husband. 

One friend is divorced.  She has a regular fuck buddy, though.  Well, that is how she wants to call him.  A nameless, fuck buddy.  At least, she has an unboring, colorful, and exciting sex life!

Another one strongly feels that her husband should at least be at par with her in terms of achievement/s and I guess, wallet size.  One of us asked about her husband --  does he need her because he loves her, or does he love her because he needs her???  Fierce.

And the last, she thought she was a wife.  But turns out there were two or three of them.  So end of story, annulment case is done and finished.

And there is poor me...  Poor me in disguise.  The flip side of all current affairs are all under cover.  No one can know.  Husband has businesses...  He has his super shitty group of friends I call my enemies. 

Oh God, I feel so lonely...

A Most Refreshing Dream

I had the most refreshing dream ever.  Just as my title says above -- I dreamt that my old boy friend and I met again, and fortunately, he seemed to be still attracted and interested in me --  boink!!! in my dream!  I almost fell off the bed for dreaming about wild stuff...  Seriously, but I felt good when I got up for work.

Oh how I truly miss this guy, D -- met him in college and he was from the U.S.  Met him through a common friend.  That was June 25, xxxx.  He was from an exclusive, all-boys' school, and was a few years older than me, very good looking, and also very youthful looking.  He was about 6 or 7 years older than I was.

We had a brief encounter while he vacationed in the city where I lived, but I was young and carefree and wanted to meet more people, so after a few months of writing letters and exchanging adventures and misadventures overseas, I broke off my friendship with him when he moved back to the States.

Now I regret having done that.  We wrote and exchanged letters for the most part, but eventually, the long-distance love affair succumbed.

I searched him up in Facebook one shitty day, -- the devil made me do it -- and there he was --- still as yummy as ever.  He is married too, and I guess he has kids like I do.  Searched his wife, and being the stalker that I am, found her too.  I don't think she came from the same high school I went to. The closest I could ever be to this dream boy is thru -- First:  one common contact in Facebook. Two: his sister is a friend of this common facebook contact I mentioned above, plus a cousin-in-law of mine (oh hell! of all peeps). Third: his nephew is a friend of one of my students (now that's interesting!).  Just a little tough luck, I guess.  Not that I want to see him again, but just thinking of the moments I spent with him many years ago is enough to fuel me.  To what?  Well, I dunno.  Just sayin', just sayin'...  :)  In my dream, I remember stroking his arm, remarking how much darker his skin tone has become, because of golf.

I do journaling and have kept 20+ volumes of them since the late 80's, and now I am tempted to read the old entries I wrote about him.  I still remember how he smelled like...  Sooo good...  He always smelled like fresh linen...  Always well-groomed, and his manner of taking care of me was unforgettable...  He treated me like I was the most precious lady ever.  Well that was how I felt, so I don't really want to think deep if he was honest with me then.  All I know was, whatever we had back then was something I treasured a lot.  A damn, damn, lot.

He told me he had a Vietnamese girlfriend in the States.  I still remember how she looked, wearing that flowery, tube dress in the photo he showed me of her. She looked petite, and according to him, she cooked well.  But hell I didn't care at all.  He said they weren't getting along anymore.  All I wanted was him.  And yes, I leeched his photo from his Facebook profile.  I don't even care if he stumbles upon this blog and remembers who the hell I was in his younger life.  If he remembers --- good.  If not, then let me remain faceless, and nameless to him...  It would probably be better this way.

When I look back at the days I spent during my youth, I always feel a pang of regret...  I believe I wasted so many years of my life not choosing the right man to be with for the rest of my life...

I went out with a great many guys -- and yet I chose my husband.  I want to knock the hell out of me for choosing this guy; sadly, when I think of doing that, I remember I have kids to live for...

I distinctly remember the night this old boy friend of mine, D, left for the States.  I was crying 'til I felt and looked like a limp ragdoll, and stayed on the street until the car he drove was out of view.  That was the evening of Aug. 25, xxxx.  I really fell for him.  But for some reason, when I started gathering my senses back, I figured there were so many guys out there waiting for me.  So stupid as I was, I wrote him a letter and broke my friendship with him.

Again, looking back, I shouldn't have done that.  I shouldn't have closed my doors on him.  Ohhh, stupid, foolish, crazy me...  Now I only have the memories to look back on.  I can still remember how we met, and how shamelessly I gave him a copy of my singing voice -- strumming my lungs out to some mushy love songs of old.  That was surely one shameless plug, heeehaaaa.  I bet you, I wasn't thinking well back then...  I sent him a letter -- with photos of how my day went on a daily basis -- waking up, going to school, dressing up, etcetera, getting ready for bed -- the works, and made it into sort of a scrapbook.  I couldn't believe I had the energy and commitment to make that project for him.  Really, if this guy went on to become my boyfriend for long, I would have probably given him my virginity.  Regretfully, I gave it to the man I am married to now.

I was so young then...  A quiet, college student...  So unassuming and all...  I miss this guy...  Perhaps my dream resurrected all my old feelings for him.  Or not at all; perhaps it's the way my dream has presented itself in my subconscious that makes me think so.  And I feel thankful that I have this blog to make into a sounding board of all my innermost demons and darkest desires.

Oh I am an aging wife and mother...  And the world keeps on spinning and moving on without me at the helm...  I wish I could bring back time...

I would do anything to be young again.