Let Us Talk About "The Things..."

Things that I call Art, are not what most people call art.  I make paintings, which I then get frustrated at, and slowly turn them into sculptures.
It is an on going process of mine.  Here though however, with my poor speech and lack of ability to type, I'll try to explain what it is that I do for a living.

I am an artist

I am a gun salesman

I am a server

I am a museum receptionist

I am a girl

...all of these things make me more interesting of a person I think, especially the I am a girl part...that by far is the best part of me.  Without it I'd probably be much more boring and less all knowing.  As for my days events, I managed to move into my new place within two hours this morning before work.  Currently its all in boxes, where it has been for over 5 months now, seeing as I have roomed with my mother these past couple of months.  It helped me immensely by allowing me to save money and relax, but now it's back to being on my own again.  Maybe one of these days I'll get things right.

Probably not though

Until then, I'll continue to talk about boys and all their wonderful and ever not so wonderful qualities.  Like for instance, the hey lets just be friends and not try to hit on me sort of deal.  Of all the men I recently met through help of Katherine dearest, only I think one or two might be worth actually talking to.

One is a boy who's got a hold of my strings.  He's not from around here, but like most men I'm in love with, and not love love, just adornment, he's from far away.  But, so is the other.  And well for that matter, so are most of the men in my life right now.  They are all from out of town, out of state, or out of the country.  I'm in love with the idea of escaping, and I think that the boys just add to this desire of mine.

I need to probably work on my paper now for graduate school.  I'll be back later.
Till then, lets promise to drink dark beer, fall for all the foreign men, and never give away our secrets

He is none the wiser, that I've grown accustomed to his silly ways...

Life can deal a cruel set of cards to you if you are not careful.  My story and the hand I was dealt goes as follows, I am lost.

Not lost like the lone cast away adrift towards some island in the Bermuda, but lost as in my poor brain ever so confused.  As I sit here, trying to hold my pee for a little while longer seeing as I just went not but 10 mins ago and do not want to disturb the ever watchful Mr. Rick at his security post, I have been day dreaming and also sort of wake "sleeping".  Last night was a train wreck for me.  Winter Lager and I spent the night together, which led to my utter demise.

Let me back track for you a bit so this all will make some sense.

I was in love, or at least I thought that I was.  For over two years I spent my life with a man whom I thought was just what I needed for the moment.  He filled my heart with content butterflies, but nothing more.  That moment has since passed.  No longer engaged, and on my own out in the world...I've made it a point to try new things and most earnestly, meet new people.  Particularly of the male gender.  Now now, let us make it crystal clear, I am out to make new sexual friends, but just some new faces.  To my honor and mine alone, I do not take part in that game under the covers.

In and out of consciousness, I've been at this desk now for over 5 hours.  To most that is not a vast amount of time at all, but to someone with a heater on her feet, the faint sounds of whispers in the air, and the smell of old art...these five hours have been a test of my endurance and strength.  Late last night around midnight I decided to go out with a six pack of Winter Lager, a man named Jack, and his tiny dog Fireball.  This is where it all began and what has prompted today's thought process.

I was drunk.

We'll leave it at that.  I lost at strip poker, lost my whits somewhere around hand 17, and almost lost my morals.  Came close but didn't let them go.

Which brings us to this morning, and practically this moment right now....I am hung over.  Never in my life have I felt so nauseous, so grounded but still spinning, so damn heavy.  Every limb on my body feels like it weights as much as an elephant.  The noise from these keys hurts my head, and even the smell of my food until about 20 mins ago was something that I just could not handle.  The body of my younger years, not that I drank like I did last night back then, but I just feel that the younger Courtney had more spring in her step is all.  Less glue, and more spring.

Back to the cards, and the reasoning for their reference.  Now that I am single, and on my own accord for most things in life...I have met some interesting people.  One such is a man that does not even know I exist.  Not exist as in he does not see me because that is  a lie.  I am using the term loosely.  I mean exist as in I feel that I was particularly friend zoned without even a chance to prove myself worthy.  Perhaps it is just the way he does things, or perhaps I am just not what he is seeking.

Either way it makes me feel like shit.

...and he'll never even know it