All or nothing was bullshit. It never worked out that way. Life was all about taking what you could get when you could get it and surviving when it wasn’t enough.

ROBIN: She’s got you on the hook.
TED: What? I’m not on the hook.
ROBIN: Ted, “right now” is the classic on-the-hook catchphrase.
MARSHALL: Yup. “Right now” paints a picture of some sort of magical future time when everything will work out, but the truth is, that will never happen.
ROBIN: You like having Henrietta around for the same reason that Tiffany likes having you around—it’s a nice little ego boost. She’s stringing you along. She’s not committing to you, but she’s keeping you around just in case, like an old can of chili in the pantry.

Um, who’s buying canned chili and not eating it immediately???

Barnito Supreme speaks the truth.

You can’t save a damsel if she loves her distress…

RUSSELL: Look, Jess, I’ve already done the crazy, explosive passion thing. When I was with Ouli, it was like edging closer and closer to a wood chipper… I’m not looking for that anymore.
JESS: I understand. But I am. And I want passion. Even if it’s harder and hurts more.

Is it just me, or does everyone else’s room get a little dusty whenever they watch google chrome commercials?

A man fishes for two reasons: he’s either sport fishing or fishing to eat, which means he’s either going to try to catch the biggest fish he can, take a picture of it, admire it with his buddies and toss it back to sea, or he’s going to take that fish on home, scale it, fillet it, toss it in some cornmeal, fry it up, and put it on his plate. This, I think, is a great analogy for how men seek out women. It’s not the guy who determines whether you’re a sports fish or a keeper—it’s you. Every word you say, every move you make, every signal you give to a man will help him determine whether he should try to play you, be straight with you, or move on to the next woman to do a little more sport fishing.

Mr. Hightower speaks an insane amount of truth.

I have found my new spiritual leader. Teach me your ways, oh wise one.

My ex invited me to his birthday party next weekend where he plans to resurrect the infamous rocket. I’m pretty sure I left my beer bonging days where I left my ex-boyfriend… in 2005 where they belong!

Unless it’s mad, passionate, extraordinary love, it’s a waste of your time. There are too many mediocre things in life. Love shouldn’t be one of them.

Via Slowly, But Shirley:

He said that you told him how much you love me. About how you feel when I walk in a room. About how you’ve never doubted for a second that I’m the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with. And I guess he had never felt that way with my mom, even at their best. There’s usually a scene in all my favorite shows that never fails to get me all choked up… like this scene from The Office where they explain how Jim’s feelings about Pam is what caused Pam’s dad to decide to leave her mom. Sometimes getting a taste of how things should be makes you realize you’re in the wrong place…

DAVE: You might not meet not somebody tonight, but you will meet someone.
PENNY: You promise?
DAVE: Yes… as long as you promise to stop slobbering all over the champagne.
PENNY: I can’t promise that.

This is pretty much how I approach telling someone that we can never be together.

ROBIN: I am never going to have closure. Okay, closure doesn’t exist. It just… ended. And, no matter how much I try to forget that it happened, it will have never not happened. Don and I will always be a loose end. We will always be—

TED: Unfinished. Gaudí, to his credit, never gave up on his dream. But that’s not usually how it goes. Most of the time it’s just too difficult, too expensive, too scary. It’s only once you’ve stopped that you realize how hard it is to start again, so you force yourself not to want it. But it’s always there. And until you finish it, it will always be…

HAL: Well, let’s say that since you were little, you always dreamed of getting a lion. And you wait, and you wait, and you wait, and you wait but the lion doesn’t come. And along comes a giraffe. You can be alone, or you can be with the giraffe.
OLIVER: I’d wait for the lion.
HAL: That’s why I worry about you.

Charlotte Sometimes is on The Voice! Waves & The Both Of Us got me through some shit with Il Postino years ago! So excited to see her on the show. Now I have a reason to watch besides Adam Levine’s beard (as if that wasn’t reason enough).

Charlotte Sometimes – Pilot
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/Charlotte Sometimes – Pilot.mp3]

And when I say that you should stay
Remember what I’m drinking’s cheap
And I’m a pilot and I am steering deep

If you have chemistry, you only need one other thing. Timing. But timing’s a bitch.

Why You Need A Man, Not A Boy | Mindy Kaling via Glamour

Goldspot – Rewind
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/GoldSpot – Rewind.mp3]

Quote of the day:

If they will do it with you, they will do it to you.

Dinner with friends turned into an emergency girl boy session at Station Tavern last night. Afterward, I polished off an entire bottle of wine by myself like I was the one hurting! Or… like it was just another Tuesday. Ha.

August was a tough month for love! Hello, September. I hope you’re amazeballs.

The universe is obvi confused about what we want, judging by the excessive amount of emergency girl sessions, tears and vino consumed this past month. So the girls and I wrote our own letters to the universe last night and lit that shit on fire.

We were enjoying some sangria afterward when the man at the neighboring fire pit offered us some brisket. Was the universe answering my letter already? Maybe I should have been more specific when I said I wanted more meat in my life!

Ubiquitous, adj.

When it’s going well, the fact of it is everywhere. It’s there in the song that shuffles into your ears. It’s there in the book you’re reading. It’s there on the shelves of the store as you reach for a towel and forget about the towel. It’s there as you open the door. As you stare off into the subway, it’s what you’re looking at. You wear it on the inside of your hat. It lines your pockets. It’s the temperature.

The hitch, of course, is that when it’s going badly, it’s in all the same places.

‘It was a mistake,’ you said. But the cruel thing was, it felt like the mistake was mine, for trusting you.

Bon Iver – Re: Stacks
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/Bon Iver – Re Stacks.mp3]

Everything that happens from now on
This is pouring rain
This is paralyzed

You were having a shitty day at work today, so I shared my favorite Bon Iver song with you to make you feel better. And then I found out what you did. Now every time I hear this song, I’ll be reminded of the exact moment you lost me as a friend.

Nothing a bottle of sauv blanc can’t fix… especially when you’re drinking it with your REAL girlfriends.

So avoid using the word ‘very’ because it’s lazy. A man is not very tired, he is exhausted. Don’t use very sad, use morose. Language was invented for one reason, boys—to woo women—and, in that endeavour, laziness will not do.

Should I consider it a warning sign that my manager sent me this coupon? I still haven’t decided whether I’m offended or secretly grateful! Ha. In her defense, she met her boyfriend on Match.com.

As much as I hate having to charm my way into free drinks at bars, I just can’t bring myself to meet a guy in a place where 15% off coupons are accepted.

TOM: Why’d you dance with me?
SUMMER: ‘Cause I wanted to.
TOM: You just do what you want, don’t you?

Clouds part
Just to give us a little sun
There’s a limit to your love

A Fine Frenzy – Ashes & Wine
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/A Fine Frenzy – Ashes And Wine.mp3]

Is there a chance
A fragment of light at the end of the tunnel
A reason to fight

I’ve read your entire blog from beginning to end and it made me laugh, cry and everything in between. When I was reading I kept thinking, you’re so honest and you’re not afraid to say what you feel. If I ever bump into you on the streets of SD I would totally give you a big hug and say, Thank you!

Holy balls! Beginning to end??? When I started this blog in 2003, all I talked about was concerts, food and my boyfriend. 8 years later, I’m still blogging about concerts, food and my (now ex) boyfriends! Some things never change…

I feel like I lead a different life on the interwebs, because IRL I’m not this candid. Here, I’m not afraid to admit that I still think about you without feeling like a total idiot… Maybe you’ll read it, but most likely you won’t. It’s easier to say these things when you think that no one is listening.

If you were able to identify with anything I’ve written these past 8 years, then I’m glad you found my blog 🙂

The Warblers – Somewhere Only We Know (Keane Cover)
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/Glee – Somewhere Only We Know.mp3]

And if you have a minute why don’t we go
Talk about it somewhere only we know
This could be the end of everything
So why don’t we go somewhere only we know

dispel, v.
It was the way you said, “I have something to tell you.” I could feel the magic drain from the room.

At Alicia’s dirty thirty last night, I realized that A) I should just automatically assume that every guy who pursues me is in a relationship (as my ongoing track record suggests) and B) maybe I shouldn’t have worn leggings. I can’t even tell you how many people grabbed my ass! I went home alone last night and I’m not gonna lie, I feel pretty good about not having to take a shame shower. I don’t care how hot you are (or how drunk I am), some guys just aren’t worth the trouble… I may have woken up this morning with dollar bills in my bra and a serious hangover, but at least I still had my dignity!

This must be how Reese Witherspoon felt in Pleasantville when she started reading books and stopped being such a whore.

HENRY: I didn’t want to tell you, because as long as you didn’t know, there was still… I don’t know… some fantasy where you and I could be together.
BETTY: Sometimes we want things to be different. We think maybe if we pretend that they are… fool people… that’s enough. But it never is.

I have a habit of getting addicted to shows after they’ve already been canceled. And I hate when they say, “To be continued…” at the end of an episode, because even when it’s past my bedtime, I have to continue.

nedhepburn:

Adele – Someone Like You (Live Acoustic)
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/Adele – Someone Like You (Live Acoustic).mp3]

I heard that you’re settled down
That you found a girl and you’re married now
I heard that your dreams came true
Guess she gave you things I didn’t give to you

Prince Erik: People in love don’t try to kill each other.
Nikita: Are you serious?

Some people pass through your life and you never think about them again. Some you think about and wonder what ever happened to them. Some you wonder if they ever wonder what happened to you. And then there are some you wish you never had to think about again. But you do.

The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd; the longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world’s existence. All these half-tones of the soul’s consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are.

Can’t wait to watch Blue Valentine tonight with the girls!

Nothing in this universe happens just once. Infinity goes in both directions. There is no unique event, no singular moment. It means you will get another chance.

I know five* couples who have called it quits these past few weeks. Okay so maybe three of those couples are celebrities. Technicalities. Nobody stays together anymore… not even Christina Aguilera and her husband.

I met up with the girls and Anthony for sushi and drinks last night. As I listened to them talk about broken engagements, unofficial relationships, ex’s reaching out to them while they’re married… I had absolutely nothing to add to the conversation in regard to myself, and I guess that’s a good thing for once. So much for happy hour! Almost everyone I know is in some kind of relationship, whether it’s between a husband and wife, a man and someone else’s wife, a girl and her long distance love, or a boy and his fleshlight. Even though I miss being in a relationship sometimes, I don’t miss all the drama that comes along with it, and was happy to drink my mai tai in silence.

*Update: Six couples now. 2010 has def been the year of babies and breakups.

Whatever happened to chivalry? Does it only exist in 80’s movies? I want John Cusack holding a boombox outside my window. I wanna ride off on a lawnmower with Patrick Dempsey. I want Jake from Sixteen Candles waiting outside the church for me. I want Judd Nelson thrusting his fist into the air because he knows he got me. Just once I want my life to be like an 80’s movie, preferably one with a really awesome musical number for no apparent reason. But no, no, John Hughes did not direct my life.

Glee Cast – The Only Exception (Paramore Cover)
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/Glee Cast – The Only Exception.mp3]

I’ve got a tight grip on reality
But I can’t let go of what’s in front of me here
I know you’re leaving in the morning when you wake up
Leave me with some kind of proof it’s not a dream

One of my favorite songs covered by one of my favorite TV shows ♥

For everything you have missed, you have gained something else. And for everything you gain, you lose something else.

(image via plastic-sfoonss)

The most beautiful discovery true friends can make is that they can grow separately without growing apart.

I saw an old friend today. Even though our lives are so different now, it was like nothing had changed… him in his Obey shirt, me in my Reefs. Seeing him makes me miss him.

Pammie and I stayed home the entire weekend and watched a Vampire Diaries marathon. It was glorious.

(This is why I’m single.)

Sometimes when you look back on a situation, you realize it wasn’t all you thought it was. Someone walked into your life, you fell in love, or did you? Maybe it was only a childish infatuation, or maybe it was a brief moment of insanity.

The BFF told me about Il Postino’s new girlfriend today, and I felt nothing. It’s funny how I always used to find myself running back to him, for some reason, thinking it would work out differently the second third fourth fifth time. And now, I can’t think of a single reason why I’d ever want him back.

Prints of this illustration I designed are now available in my Etsy shop for $10! They are 11″ x 17″ and professionally printed by digital press on 100 lb. paper gloss.

A man is like a cat; chase him and he will run. Sit still and ignore him and he’ll come purring at your feet.

If I haven’t returned any of your messages in months, what made you think I’d appreciate the 1am phone call?

Human beings are funny. They long to be with the person they love but refuse to admit openly. Some are afraid to show even the slightest sign of affection because of fear. Fear that their feelings may not be recognized, or even worst, returned. But one thing about human beings puzzles me the most is their conscious effort to be connected with the object of their affection even if it kills them slowly within.

Every night after work, I begrudgingly drag my ass to the gym. But today, I finally found my motivation. Turbo Kickboxing Instructor Mike, where have you been all my life??? It will be like that summer I took that art class in college with that hot teacher and had unusually perfect attendance that quarter 😉

Update: I just googled Mike to see what gyms he regularly teaches at since he subbed my class today, and his personal training site lists him as MARRIED (of course he is). Come to think of it, that hot art teacher from college was married, too.

Yeah, I’m pretty sure God wants me to die alone. And possibly out of shape.

Neon Trees – Sins of My Youth

Call me crazy, I was born to make a mess
Would you love me still if I were to confess
That I had a little too much fun back when I was young
I’ve got these habits that I cannot break
And as I’m older there is more at stake
Go ahead and call me fake, but these are the sins
The sins of my youth

I’ve got wallowing down to a science… I spent the better half of 2006 perfecting it, after all. I’m not gonna lie, my usual method of getting over someone is by getting under someone else. But I’m realizing that happiness is an inside job. I can’t sit here waiting for another guy to come along to stop wallowing about the last one. One day, you just have to decide not to be sad anymore. And that day was today. Well, actually it was Friday, but killing a few bottles of wine with Anthony foiled that plan. And then I decided it was yesterday. But while getting drinks with friends, one of the employees came up to our table and asked if any of us were he who shall not be named, because he who shall not be named had a phone call. Coincidence or cruel joke? As I walked out wondering if it was a sign, I looked up to the sky, dramatically shook my fist at the heavens, and almost got hit by a car. And so I decided that today would be the day (again). It’s barely noon, but I’m feeling optimistic. I mean, I’m going to Phil’s for lunch… If a beefy rib tickler isn’t guaranteed happiness, I don’t know what is.

Letting go doesn’t mean giving up, but rather accepting that there are things that cannot be.

It’s a lot easier to be lost than found. It’s the reason we’re always searching and rarely discovered—so many locks, not enough keys.

Since the first day you reached out to me, I kept searching for hints of the relationship you kept from me. I couldn’t see it in the description of your morning routine or your weekend recaps, but I could feel it in your absent admission to the contrary. I planned to keep quiet and let this fade out, as I do with everything else I feel isn’t worth fighting for. But this was you. And to me, you have always been worth it. So I finally got up the nerve to say,

Are you seeing anyone?

I knew the answer before I even asked the question. I should have asked you this in the beginning, but I convinced myself that you wouldn’t hide something like that from me. Except you did. And while you justified it by not doing anything more than correspond back and forth, the line was already crossed when you first contacted me, and you’ve been on the other side of it ever since.

At least I know that you didn’t just dismiss me as some reckless fling you had when we were younger. I can’t be mad at you for wanting to talk to me, but what was the point of this, other than resurrecting all these memories I haven’t thought about in years? It’s like you just came back to remind me that you still can’t do this. Even if you didn’t know what you were looking to get out of this in the beginning, you made the choice not to tell me about her for months. What did you want from me?

You and I will always have some unfinished business, but eventually, it’ll be as it was. You’ll forget about me. I’ll forget about you.

You’ve been out of my life for years, but somehow your absence is more tangible now than it ever was. How can I miss something I never had?

Well, I’d say I’ve successfully fulfilled my nostalgia quota for the week year.

This trip down memory lane ended at my old friend/ex-love’s 30th birthday party last night. It’s strange to see someone you’ve spent so much of your life with and feel nothing… And to think of someone else you didn’t spend nearly enough time with and feel everything.

She wanted something else, something different, something more. Passion and romance, perhaps. Or maybe a quiet, heartfelt conversation into the wee hours of the night. Or perhaps something as simple as not being second.

(image via thewordsalloverme)

We all have the potential to fall in love a thousand times in our lifetime. It’s easy. The first girl I ever loved was someone I knew in sixth grade. Her name was Missy; we talked about horses. The last girl I love will be someone I haven’t even met yet, probably. They all count. But there are certain people you love who do something else; they define how you classify what love is supposed to feel like. These are the most important people in your life, and you’ll meet maybe four or five of these people over the span of 80 years. But there’s still one more tier to all this; there is always one person you love who becomes that definition. It usually happens retrospectively, but it happens eventually. This is the person who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of these loveable qualities are self-destructive and unreasonable. The person who defines your understanding of love is not inherently different than anyone else, and they’re often just the person you happen to meet the first time you really, really, want to love someone. But that person still wins. They win, and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone else.

(image via the beholder)

Don’t say a word, just come over and lie here with me
‘Cause I’m just about to set fire to everything I see
I want you so bad I’ll go back on the things I believe
There I just said it, I’m scared you’ll forget about me

Yesterday, there was an unexpected venti iced sugar-free vanilla soy latte waiting for me at my desk when I got to work in the morning. Christine treated me out to pizza and beer at Pizza Port for dinner. And then I ended the night at an amazing $10 Temper Trap show with my girls.

Today was nothing like yesterday.

(image via thresca)

Weezer – (If You’re Wondering If I Want You To) I Want You To
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/weezer-iwantyouto.mp3]

If you’re wondering if I want you to
I want you to
So make a move
‘Cause I ain’t got all night

I just received an invitation to my ex‘s dirty 30th. It has been years since I’ve seen him and even longer since we’ve dated. It seems like only yesterday I designed the flyer for his 21st birthday. Haha. This should be interesting.

(image via luftschloss)

If a guy is treating you like he doesn’t give a shit, he genuinely doesn’t give a shit. No exceptions.

Oh, oh, I want some more
Oh, oh, what are you waiting for?
Take a bite of my heart tonight

Chel asked me a burning question I’m sure you’ve all been losing sleep over…

Am I going to have a +1 at her wedding???

I’ve spent the past couple of days mulling over this question. I thought about it while we waited in line for Alice in Wonderland, and Chel asked everyone except me who was the funnier one in their current relationships (you don’t need to ask me who was funnier in all my past relationships—I’m clearly a riot). The four of us have been attached at the nip for as long as I can remember, and I have always been the single one out. Sure, a couple of them have been single while I was single (and for a very brief moment we all were single), but I’m the only one who is ever single alone. I thought about it again when I went to dinner with my sister earlier tonight, and we ran into two of her ex-boyfriend’s ex-girlfriends. I realized that all of them were engaged—her ex-boyfriend and all of his ex’s, my sister included.

I’m almost certain that my status will remain unchanged three months from now. That’s not me being pessimistic; I’m actually quite the opposite. I think I see the good in people too often, thinking that they’re worth more than they really are… even though they continue to disprove me repeatedly. It doesn’t help that today marks a full week since Il Postino did me dirty again (and not in a good way), and as predicted, no apologies have been offered.

And so I told Chel that I won’t be needing a +1. She already has 300 guests. I don’t want her spending another $50 on dinner for this tentative +1 of mine. Alas, I will be the only one out of five bridesmaids and two maids of honor without a date. And if you’re reading this thinking, “Damn, I really wanted to be your +1…” then maybe you should stop stalking me on the internet and make movements instead—yes, I’m talking to you, Anthony!

He’ll never learn, cabrona. But then again, neither will you…

(image via sberon)

SpongeBob: What do you usually do when I’m gone?
Patrick: Wait for you to come back.

(image via sanahasflickr.)

I will not be the first one to speak. And if he never calls me again, I’ll always think of him fondly. As an asshole.

For some people, love doesn’t exist unless you acknowledge it in front of other people.

Another 3am text message from Il Postino this weekend. It’s always back and forth with us. He drunk messages me one weekend. I do it the next. He does it again, but this time he’s just trying to be funny—”trying” being the operative word here. I know he’s mocking my drunken text from the weekend before, so I tell him he’s lucky I’m awake at that unholy hour. And then I remember that I purposely ignored his messages on Valentine’s Day, so he thinks things are okay between us now that I’ve broken my silence. Every time I get off this carousel, I just get back on again, spinning around and around knowing this ride always makes me sick.

I was really dreading this past weekend, but it actually wasn’t half bad 🙂 On Friday, Shi, Ella, Sha and I did what any other masochistic group of single girls would do on Valentine’s Day weekend—we watched Dear John (aka Sobfest 2010). Christine gave it half a thumb, but I actually liked it! I cried throughout the entire movie. It definitely didn’t touch The Notebook, but I’d recommend at least renting it when it’s released (if only to see Channing Tatum running around half naked).

I drowned my sorrows at The Local with the girls and Antonio Saturday night. Fifty dollars, six cranberry vodkas, two slices of New York pizza, and one drunken text to the ex later (yikes), I called it a night at four in the morning.

I woke up on Sunday with a hangover and a text back from Il Postino. I didn’t get back to him—he drunk messaged me three times the weekend before, so I thought I didn’t have to explain myself. The girls all texted me to make sure that I wasn’t going to throw myself off a bridge before spending the day with their significant others, and I even got a V-Day greeting from the Cake Boss (which I also ignored). Shi invited me to brunch, but I felt too sick to eat anything at that ungodly hour. I spent the majority of my day designing Chel’s wedding invitation while watching Lifetime’s Lovers Lane Movie Marathon (don’t judge me). Sitting through all 120 minutes of Flirting with Forty was worth discovering Robert Buckley. Hot damn. I don’t usually like blondes, but I’ll make an exception for this one.

Il Postino texted me after midnight—and after he had gotten home from his Valentine’s date, I’m sure—saying thanks for (not) returning the drunken text and he hoped I had a great Valentine’s Day. Number one… how dare you? And number two… don’t call me past 11pm. It was late, and I didn’t think it was a good idea to respond, so I didn’t. I like how we only talk to each other when we’re intoxicated and/or at an indecent hour. Don’t make me that girl that you only call after midnight—especially not on Valentine’s Day. And especially not when I used to be that girl you’d take roller skating on a random Tuesday before the street lights came on.

I would just like to be involved with someone who values me enough to call me at a respectable hour… someone who would maybe take me to Birch Aquarium to look at moon jellies, grab some dinner afterwards (nothing fancy), and maybe share a Churros Con Chocolate cupcake from Cups. Or even a churro from Costco would be fine by me. You know, I don’t ask for much (and I also don’t get much, either… go figure).

On Monday, Chel, Shi and I had a three hour sesh at Tap Ex. We always find time for each other. These girls are my heart. They make me realize that I’m better off without these jerkoffs I keep involving myself with. And they completely understand when I blow them off to watch meteor showers with the same jerkoffs ♥

In my opinion, the best thing you can do is find a person who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you, the right person is still going to think the sun shines out your ass. That’s the kind of person that’s worth sticking with.

(image via someecards)

A food analogy if you will, it’s like a redneck preferring a sloppy joe to a fine cut of filet mignon—he’s too uncouth to appreciate you.

And it wears me out
It wears me out

(image via vivatregina)

Someone I used to know emailed me out of the blue last week. We were just teenagers when we knew each other. He was a part of my past that I thought would never come back—sort of like the tongue ring I used to have when I knew him. And the brown chola lip liner I used to wear. Yet there was his name in lowercase letters waiting for me in my inbox. He said that he looked me up online and stumbled upon my blog. I cyberstalk google random people all the time, but I don’t think I’ve ever contacted anyone I don’t talk to anymore. I’m really horrible at keeping in touch. Before I know it, days, months, and years go by. Like January 2010, for example. I’m still in denial it ever happened. How is it February already??? Sometimes I feel like it’s too late to say anything… I’m glad people think otherwise, though. It was really nice to hear from him (and only a little bit creepy).

I was curious about what other details of my life surfaced when he looked me up online, so I googled myself. I’m quite the social networking butterfly—my Facebook, Myspace and Twitter accounts came up first. I can only handle one social network at a time, so I haven’t touched my Myspace since I joined Facebook, and my tweets are few and far between (to the dismay of @idntfd—he thinks my life is far more interesting than it really is). Nothing too embarrassing or too personal came up, though… unless you count my old Xanga page—complete with a rotating icon of me, my ex, and my aforementioned tongue ring. Yikes.

I woke up to three messages on my phone from Il Postino at two in the morning. Nothing good ever happens at that hour.

(image via thewordsalloverme)

I have a history of making decisions very quickly about men. I have always fallen in love fast and without measuring risks. I have a tendency not only to see the best in everyone, but to assume that everyone is emotionally capable of reaching his highest potential. I have fallen in love more times than I care to count with the highest potential of a man, rather than with the man himself, and I have hung on to the relationship for a long time (sometimes far too long) waiting for the man to ascend to his own greatness. Many times in romance I have been a victim of my own optimism.

I know I have you guys, but—and really, I hate myself a little for saying this—but it felt really sad not to have a man in my life who cares about me. No special guy to wish me happy birthday. No goddamn soul mate. And I don’t even know if I believe in soul mates.

Up until four years ago, I had a boyfriend to wish me happy birthday every year for nearly a decade. I’ve had dates, relationships and what have you over the past few years, but no amount of smizing, hair flips or threats could make them stick around for my birthday. Maybe it’s those crazy wish lists I come up with, I don’t know. I hate how I let this one thing I don’t have affect all the things I do have. I’m so lucky to have such great friends and relatives. I received over fifty birthday greetings via text, Facebook and phone. But the truth is, everything could be going great in my life and none of it would matter if I didn’t have anyone to share it with.

This year was no different. Il Postino knew it was my birthday. He knew. He asked his sister where she was taking me for dinner that morning. I wish she wouldn’t mention me at all around him. I’m almost certain that if we didn’t have her to keep us connected, we would’ve let each other go a long time ago. I never ask for anything. All I wanted was to be acknowledged. He couldn’t even bring himself to—at the very least—leave me a Facebook message wishing me a happy birthday in the most informal way he possibly could. His complete disregard for me stings more than the leopard print body pillow his mom gave me for Christmas.

But in spite of all that, I saw him again last night. I didn’t bring up my birthday. I didn’t bring up the fact that we haven’t spoken since the meteor shower. Disappointment is an emotion I’ve gotten used to wearing around him. He never apologizes for anything, with the exception of that one time last summer—and even that felt like it was court-ordered. I live for these sort of movie moments. That’s all I have with him. Just moments. It’s the reason why I never argue with him. Because no matter how bad it gets, I always come back. So why ruin the moment? When I see him, it’s understood that we revert to the way things used to be between us… when everything was beautiful and nothing hurt, if only for one night. Or maybe I’ve misunderstood all along. Maybe these moments have been meaningless from the start.

I’ve realized that nothing will ever make him sure of me—not the fact that his family adores me, not the familiarity of my lips or the way my hand always fits perfectly in his, not the SpongeBob DVDs I gave him for Christmas that he didn’t bother to acknowledge just like my birthday, and especially not the fact that for reasons I can’t explain, I’ve always been so sure of him.

We all fall for them. Pricks are spontaneous, unpredictable and fun—and then we’re surprised when they turn out to be pricks.

Man, I was thinking about unrequited love. I figure it’s best to just walk that shit off. Find someone else to be excited about. It’s like if you love ice cream but your ice cream man friend won’t give you any. Maybe he’s got a good reason. It cuts into profits. Who knows? But he likes you as a friend and wants to hang out anyway. It drives you crazy to hang out with that dude, even if he’s being reasonable from his point of view. So don’t hang out with him. What, you ONLY like ice cream? It’s ice cream or nothing? Don’t be an asshole. Learn to love donuts.

Things just keep going. We didn’t talk about anything heavy or light. We were just there together. And that was enough.

Il Postino and I dated on and off until he broke my heart last winter. He didn’t talk to me for eight months afterwards. He brought a new girl home for Thanksgiving. And the past two times he has contacted me, she just happened to be out of town.

But when I’m with him, I can’t seem to remember any of that.

He took me to see the meteor shower late last night. He picked me up at my apartment and we carried on as if those gaps between our visits didn’t exist. We got to the beach and were literally the only ones there. Maybe the weekend rain had scared everyone off. We lay the blanket on the sand under a patch of sky that wasn’t covered in clouds and waited… I was cozy in his jacket and gloves, with my head resting on his pillow. Michael Jackson songs played on his iPhone while we talked about the movies we had last seen—something we always used to do together. He told me I would like “Leap Year.” I overlooked that he had seen all of these movies with someone else. He said he would be satisfied if he saw twenty-six shooting stars and asked me how much I’d be happy with. I told him that I couldn’t think of a number, but I would just know when the time came. Being there with him was enough for me. I counted thirteen shooting stars and made a handful of wishes before we left. It started raining on the drive home. We both had work in the morning. I didn’t expect him to stay, but he stayed. I noticed that he always sleeps on the right side of the bed. He reached for my hand and closed his fingers over mine. I asked him if he was seeing anyone. He said that he wasn’t. That they were just friends. That they were never a couple. I wanted to believe him. We talked about why I was moving. We talked about his family. He said that his youngest sister has been mad at him since he moved out. I told him that she just misses him. I fell asleep to the rise and fall of his chest as he slept. He stayed with me till morning. And then he left.

If he wanted to be with me right now, he would be with me. I can’t keep putting my life on hold every time he decides to make a cameo. His appearances aren’t without expectations, and I find myself searching for hidden meanings behind his every word and action. I think he doesn’t want to lose me… but he doesn’t want to keep me, either.

Rihanna – “Stupid in Love”
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/stupidinlove.mp3]

They’re telling me let go
He is not the one
I thought I saw your potential
Guess that’s what made me dumb

Cinematic Orchestra – To Build A Home
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/tobuildahome.mp3]

‘Cause I built a home for you, for me
Until it disappeared from me, from you

(image via weheartit)

(image via Le Love)

John Legend – “Everybody Knows”
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/audio/everybodyknows.mp3]

And I hope one day you’ll see nobody has it easy
I still can’t believe you found somebody new
But I wish you the best… I guess

(image via lovebot)

Lykke Li – “Possibility”
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/possibility.mp3]

So tell me when you hear my heart stop
You’re the only who knows
Tell me when you hear my silence
There’s a possibility I wouldn’t know

I regret the way pain has taught me nothing.

He told me I needed a car wash. My car was always filthy back when we were dating, and I knew he was going to say something when he saw it today. I smiled because I still knew him, but it made me sad that he hadn’t changed. Neither have I, apparently. He hugged me goodbye and held me longer than he should have. Then he left.

He sent me a message a couple weeks ago saying that “we should talk sometime.” I reasoned he was just thinking about me because it was Halloween. We spent Halloween together last year, and he had just seen his niece whose costume I had sewn. Maybe he was lonely that day. He always does this. He says “we should talk,” but I know that he won’t call. And I won’t call. He’s the one who left me. And I never chase. So where does that leave us?

(image via weheartit)

I realized today that I will never escape him. I met up with the BFF at her aunt’s house to go to dinner for her son’s birthday. I knew that Il Postino would be at work, so I wasn’t worried about running into him. But that’s all I seemed to do… without him even being there. With an extra kid in the BFF’s car, I ended up riding with Il Postino’s mom. His little sisters were supposed to be there, but they were running late as usual, so we had to go pick them up at the house. His old house. It was just me and his mom on the car ride there. She talked about him the whole time, saying how worried she was about him and that she didn’t know or trust his new friends. She said that she loved when he was dating me, because she trusted me and knew I was a good person. She apologized for going on and on (and on and on) about him. I mostly stayed quiet during the car ride. I hadn’t stepped foot in that house since I was with him almost a year ago. His grandpa told me that he missed my cupcakes. His sister was excited to show me her Halloween costume. We eventually made our way to the Spaghetti Factory for dinner. The BFF prefers the one in North County over the closer one downtown, so it was a long drive up. Time moved even slower with every mention of his name. I felt like I was in that car forever. During dinner, Il Postino’s sister said that he texted her that he was off work and waiting at their aunt’s house where we were going afterwards for birthday cake. I raised the second margarita I was on and told the BFF that I was going to need more of these if I was going to see him, half joking, but not really. When we got back to her aunt’s house, I saw his car parked outside and decided not to go up. As much as I love birthday cake, I wasn’t in the mood to deal with the awkward situation waiting for me upstairs in that tiny apartment. Not today anyway. I will always be friends with my BFF and Il Postino will always be her brother. I’ll have to figure out how to deal with that someday.

I’m a magnet for unavailable men. Physically unavailable. Emotionally unavailable. Is it too much to ask that you not be in a relationship before making a pass at me?

Meiko – “Boys with Girlfriends”
[audio:http://www.mayanrocks.com/blog/boyswithgirlfriends.mp3]

I know better not to be friends with boys with girlfriends
Oh, I know better than that, I know better
You play the victim and I’ll be the bad guy
I know better than that, I know better

He let me drive his car today. Nobody ever lets me drive their car (with good reason). I picked him up and took off my seat belt so I could switch to the passenger side, but he said I could keep driving. He must’ve had a stroke or something, but I stayed in the driver’s seat. We got to the store and chose the most wobbly shopping cart ever. It filled the silence as we walked up and down the aisles, stopping to grab only the necessities off the shelves. “My,” he’d say. I’d look up to see other carts trying to get through and me just blocking the aisle while I stood there distracted by all the different laundry detergents. He took over driving the cart after that. We tested air fresheners for a while. “Do you like this one?” he’d ask. “Barf,” I’d say. “Try this one.” By the time he had decided on Freshmatic Morning Rain, we both smelled like the fragrance department at Penney’s. I didn’t care, though…I had a good time with him today. We’re so comfortable now, I almost forget about what happened between us over the summer. Almost.

I miss having someone to do everyday things with.

(image via ffffound)

How do I slow down?
I can’t relate to my heart now
I’ve thrown what I’ve known
Is enough of me out?
I’m running on empty
I’ve gotta find some way
To fumble right through this new heartache
It’s torn me apart
Oh, lovesick mistake
Turn me away

I went to see Erin McCarley at Soma last night with Chel and Shi. I think she is so amazingly talented and underrated. She reminds me of one of my favorite Stella Im Hultberg paintings, Until the Day—beautiful, but painfully sad.