Strange as it may seem, this life is based on a true story." - Ashleigh Brilliant


name: shanna
age: 28
sign: scorpio
live: louisiana
The current mood of shanna at

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Monday, September 08, 2003

You know it's a Monday when you get a $0.99 Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger from Wendy's for lunch, and bring it back to your desk only to realize you have no Lactaid. It's a lactose intolerant person's worst nightmare; or, at least, biggest aggravation. My delicious, juicy, drool-worthy burger is cooling in the refrigerator while I sustain myself on pretzels and 8am-stale-popcorn.

But that's Monday for you.

Hope everyone had a great weekend. Mine consisted of passing out early on Friday night; as in 9pm early. I'm such a geek; I was really down and depressed, though, so I have an excuse. Saturday I got up at 5am and got online - and met some really cool guy with whom I chatted for two hours about spirituality and psychic powers. That was cool. It was interesting, because I'd just sat down to read some more on Rob Brezsny's Free Will Astrology site. I found it Friday evening, just before leaving work, and was blown away. I love his writing style, and his topics touched and rekindled all of my spiritual fires. I ordered his book (even though he offers it free on his website - showing he's a true artist and messenger) after only being on his site thirty minutes. If you like a little William-Blakeish/Kerouac-esque esoteric mumbo jumbo, you might be into this. I highly recommend checking it out.

Around noon, my Mom called. "I just read your blogger," she said. Now, I know Mom reads my blogger (Hi, Mom!), and loves it, but the first thought that ran through my head was "Omfg, did I say something I shouldn't have?! Did I piss someone off?!" Instead, her next sentence was "You heard from Spoon? What do you mean an 'impending visit'? What's going on??" My Mom is so cool. I explained to her, and to you now, that he (Spoon/aka "the ex") had called me last week out of the clear blue. Perhaps, not so clear - I'd dreamt about him getting in touch with me twice the week before, which meant he was thinking about me and about to do that very thing. I'd rather not see him and rather not talk to him - in fact, I'd rather not have him in my life at all. But I do love the guy - we went through a lot together and I care about him - and I am, literally, the only person he has to come to when life gets him down. I told him I'd always be there for him, and I meant it. Even if he throws me into a state of topsy-turvy panic every time he comes around. You see, I'm not in love with him anymore and have absolutely no desire to be his girl ever again - but he was my first love and we were together a long time. There is this sort of "he's mine" still there; even though it's very small. I'm also an evilly jealous Scorpio. I don't like to hear him talk about other women. In fact, the last time we talked, he'd gotten in touch with me to tell me he'd fallen in love. After almost five years of our being broken up, he'd finally found someone else that he fell in love with. I would've been happy for him if the whole thing didn't sound so doomed-from-the-start (she's a 19 year-old, spoiled/Daddy's girl [his words] stripper). But it hurt me, too. I don't know why - it just did. I predicted this entire scenario back then, and my vision has come to bear fruit. Things aren't so great in his new loving-bliss and he needs someone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on and commiserate with him. So he calls me. Naturally. The problem with this is, I only ever hear from him when he needs something. Whether it be money, advice, sex or just a an ear to listen. And he knows this. He told me on the phone last week, when I agreed to let him come to my apartment, "You don't have to let me come over. I understand if you don't want to see me. You've always been there for me no matter what shit was going on in my life. You're the only one - and I always use you and shit on you." It still doesn't stop him from doing it.

Anyway, I haven't heard from him yet today - and this Monday evening was the proposed date of his arrival. Perhaps he forgot, or something else came up. I can only hope. I'm not comfortable talking about him these days; it's like a scar that never stops itching. I would rather rip out my fingernails than listen to him talk about his current love life; luckily I'm quite good at pretending to pay attention whilst my mind wanders elsewhere.

Saturday evening my bestest friend in the whole world, Brandon, my sister and her boyfriend and my brother all got together at my apartment for some beer and pizza and fun. We had a nice time, even being such a motley crue of an assembly.

I went to bed early (around 11pm) and got up earlier on Sunday morning so I could go and visit my soulmate. That made everything okay - the depression I've been feeling and the impending visit with the ex. Baret came over Sunday evening, we grilled some shish-kabobs and watched this very interesting show on medieval weapons on the History Channel.

A nice weekend - but, as always - entirely too short. Think of me this evening; I might need it.

- shanna bared her soul & griped a bit @ 1:49 PM

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