I Like Him.

God damn it. I can’t believe I am actually going to utter these words.

I like Clapper.

I legitimately fucking like him and he makes me happy.

(Going to vomit. Be right back.)

Seriously, I like him. I want to spent loads of time with him and I (kinda) want to spill my guts to him (but I’m also not stupid and know better than to do that).

I have sorta admitted this to him, which is more than I can say for most people in the past that have crossed my path.

Mr. Breadstick, Ms. Ineedacheeseburger, Charlie  and Peace told me to stop being sissy basically and to get over my irrational fear of showing anyone any remote sense of emotion. And, well, I’m working on it. It’s slow and painful and it makes me very uncomfortable.

As I previous told Peace this week, “I’d rather suffer in my own silence then let someone know that they have had an emotional affect on me.”

Peace later told me that I deserved a man like Clapper because he is a lot of what I need in a partner (basically).

So I consulted my list (yes I really do have a list) to see how many of the “requirements” he meets. Clapper means a lot of them. He is:
has common sense,
knows what a mason jar is (need to ask. He is a yankee, so…)
makes me laugh (a lot actually),
affectionate (extremely),
kinda on the non-plan plan (so far),
has a big heart,
love unconditionally (let’s not get ahead of ourselves now),
has goals,
wants children (time the fuck out…I actually wrote that!?! My, my how things have changed and I don’t know what his answer is. Need to ask.),
not worry about money (we don’t discuss it),
have a truck (SUV…close enough for a city slicker),
love animals (that he does not),
act proper and mature (when necessary),
not a momma’s boy (doesn’t seem so, but we shall see. Need to ask.),
not an asshole for a father (Need to ask list.),
communicate well (he does!),
fight back (not crossing that bridge yet),
simple in a way,
understanding (is he ever),
open minded,
well traveled,
cares about self (he has quotes written down everywhere),
nice body (snicker, snicker),
heart-warming smile,
know how to drive (once again he is yankee),
perk to play an instrument (need to ask list).

So, that would be 34 items checked off the list, 1 item that he does not meet and 7 unanswerables.

Not too shabby.

Happily Ever After

So what if Mr. Breadstick and Ms. Ineedacheeseburger really do get married?

Here I am, the middle friend (and ex girlfriend). Nevertheless, I have thought, in detail actually, about how I would feel about each moment of this.

The engagement. A tad shocked. A little depressed but genuinely happy for them both.

Pre-wedding. Jittery. Wanting, almost needing, to help out in any way possible. I could easily plan this wedding. No really I could. I could dive into this head first and produce a spectacular event. And I really think my heart would jump out of my chest about 500 times in the process.

Wedding. Happy. Like crying happy. A little bitter knowing that she is marrying one of my best friends for ever and ever, and that they will have the sex. Can’t even, don’t even, want to remotely picture that event. Ick.

Post-wedding. Happy. Delighted. Drunk.

Really post-wedding. Well, I don’t know. Depends on my dating status.

Forging Friendship

So in an effort to make things easier for everyone involved (and to act on a gut feeling I had anyways) I decided to making friends with Ms. Ineedacheeseburger. Yes I am actually making an effort to be her legitimate friend.

First, we made a trip to the local Donny T’s (mexican restaurant). We actually talked like normal. It turns out that I have a lot in common with her. Shockingly. Honestly. But the conversation was easy, natural and comfortable. We talked for almost two hours. After dinner, she ran errands and I went home to pack up my apartment. Well, I didn’t get too far. She called me up, said she was bored and asked if I wanted to grab a beer.

Sure thing.

And we continued to have our conversations at ease. I even told her about Clapper, to which she encouraged me to stop being a sissy and tell him I liked him. Ha. Odd hearing that from an ex boyfriend’s current girlfriend. (But she is right.)

That weekend we continued our friendship building with a hike. An 8 mile hike. 8 miles of aimless walking. But it passed without distribution or awkwardness. We talked about everything, even weddings, and our general complaints about them. She even told me that she would invite me to her’s when she got married if we were still friends. I chuckled to myself quietly.

But this got me to thinking, if Mr. Breadstick and Ms. Ineedacheeseburger got married, how weird could that actually be? But that’s for another time.

I just think it’s a bit odd to be actually enjoying and missing the company of my ex boyfriend’s current girlfriend. I mean we get along well and have loads in common. Just viewing the situation from the outside, it seems a bit weird. I talk to Mr. Breadstick almost daily and her at least once a week. If they ever broke up, I’d probably be closer with Mr. Breadstick, but I really wouldn’t want my friendship to end with her. It’s like juggling. It’s difficult when it really shouldn’t be.

I’m just a perplexed by the whole thing really.


I went to confession today with Mr. Breadstick.

Mr. Breadstick: “Where is that storm? How’s the ol beach? Gotten any darker?”

Me: “No idea. I haven’t watched the weather channel in a few days. Perhaps it was pushed north?  The beach is good. Had the lifeguards come by for the first time. Got starred at. It was awkward. We now have neighborhors too. And yes. I am really dark. How’s base? Better than in days past?”

Mr. Breadstick: “Hahah you got oggled? Because you are so dark perhaps? The neighbors cool? It’s better, but still gay. PT test at 5 am today, waiting around to go on a ruck with like an empty ruck. Pointless? I think so but the days are better. There is a gym really close and its been useful.”

Me: “Yes I got oggled. I’m blaming it on Sunshine. The blondes. They are always lookers. I hate having neighbors down here. They disturb the peace. How did the PT test go? And yea a ruck march with an empty ruck …pointless. Maybe it’s more for those who don’t do ruck marches like the school does.”

Mr. Breadstick: “Haha Did you feel gross, attractive, or indifferent? Uh PT test went well, maxed everything but the run with time to spare, and I did a minute better on the run than last time. The ruck should be whatever, apparently its slow as fuck.”

Me: “I don’t know what I felt.  Have been doing a lot of thinking while I’ve been down here and I really don’t know why I do the things I do sometimes. But I still have no regrets about the decisions I have made. Good job on the pt test and day dream on your ruck. It’ll pass the time on your Sunday stroll. Ha”

Mr. Breadstick: “Hahah think it’s saturday Nelson =p. Thinking going well? Feel progress at all? I’m pretty sure we gotta work sunday and monday. In a week or so, we should be clearing our stx lanes, and be doing work work. Have you been to louisville?”

Me: “Sunday Saturday. Psh. Minor details. Thinking is going. thoughts are all over the place and probably will be until I get settled somewhere. Let’s hope they subside at some point and this isn’t a marathon of analysis like it was last time. Thinking about that makes my head hurt. This is going to sound really dumb but what the hell is a stx lane? Understand a lot of lingo but I do not get that one. I have never been to Louisville but I’ve driven past it a lot. Ha. Only been to base once and that was 2 years ago.”

Mr. Breadstick: “Over analysis isn’t good. Sometimes you need to think about it, and then just go with it. Not get too caught up in it. Stx lanes is what we do at school w blanks n shit, tactics. so I should be opfor.”

Me: “I know but sometimes its like I obess over a topic until I find an answer. Not healthy but its like I can’t turn off my brain. Ah. Ok. That makes more sense to me. Opfor is a good position right?”

Mr. Breadstick: “Better than being stuck in a building as S1 or S3 working 12hr shifts under some douchebag who is overbearing and a number nazi.”

Me: “Hahhahaha. Well put!!!! I had isn’t mental images of Dog and Boobs.”

Mr. Breadstick: “Basically, but you can’t sass these people. Hahha oh Train came up to me grad day, put his hand out. I shook it, he said good luck. I said good luck with your 16 standards sir. He wasn’t happy.”

Me: “Ha. You’re such an ass Mr. Breadstick and I’m so happy you said that. At least you took the high road and didn’t say anything about Mease.”

Mr. Breadstick: “Yea, I talked to Smelly about her, and he outlined it in a pretty honest manner, admitted it looks bad, but hey this is what shes dealing with so I dropped it.”

Me: “At least he was honest with you. I’ll give him props for that. I like him but I don’t trust him.”

Mr. Breadstick: “Smelly? I’ve  actually come to respect him. He’s a nervous nelly, but you just gotta calm him down and he pretty much shot straight with me. I was really to the point with him, so that mighta helped.”

Me: “Yea true but I have seen the way he operates. I feel like he’d burn you in a hot minute. That’s why I don’t let him get too close. Any of the staff members for that matter.”

Mr. Breadstick: “Oh yea he would if like someone did shit they really weren’t supposed to, but at least he’s honest about it? Dog SGM, Train, and Boss especially  seem deceptive?”

Me: “Yeah I know which is why I keep him away from me. Perception is reality to most for them. I like Dog. We can relate about a lot of things but I don’t discuss anything but general topics with him and he feeds into it. I love SGM. He can be a real ass sometimes but he has feelings and he tells you what he thinks. I don’t get close to him though because I don’t like his wife. She’s a cunt. Train is ok. Too closed minded for my taste. Boss I could be friends with but once again his wife is a problem. Plus its better to keep your boss as far from your personal affairs as possible.”

Mr. Breadstick: “Hmm reoccurring problem much?”

Me: “Yes. Ha. I don’t really get along with most women and most women find me threatening anyways. I play nice for a while but when I can see straight through their bullshit I get irritated and decide that its not worth the trouble. I have lost many friends over women being jealous territorial bitches.”

Mr. Breadstick: “That is true. Hey at least you aren’t one!”

Me: “I’m not. Use to be then I realized how utterly stupid it was. I am much more direct when I need to be now and it has paid off.”

Mr. Breadstick: “It does indeed work.”

Me: “It is however under appreciated.”

We have a such constructive conversations.

Sunshine Is Beyond Random


Today was a highly adventurous day for Sunshine and I. We started off the day late but made our way to the beach which ended as quickly as it started. Why you ask? Simple. The wind was blowing at 20 miles per hour across the sand. If you don’t know what that means I’ll break it down for you. You’re standing there enjoy the waves and the breeze. Ah yes. What a nice breeze. Then it starts to sting. Ow. Ow. Owwwww. It get worse. It’s like being sand blasted constantly at different speeds. It fucking hurts!

So we made our way back to the driveway. I washed the truck, got hit on by the man checking the telephone poles. Awkward. Real awkward.

I ran in my Vibrams today. It was nice. Going to take a bit to adjust to them, but it felt good.

After this all, sense for Sunshine and I went out the window, completely. We discussed what it would be like to go through life without thumbs. The picture above is how Sunshine would drink water. (Blonde moment clearly.)

But in keeping with Sunshine’s randomness, this scene occurred.  We were watching a show about this man was having reconstructive surgery on his face and she looks at me, dead pan face, and goes “google pregnant midgets”. No lie.

But that was after I said this to her: “Damn I need to keep you around more often. You made my bed, you fixed my food, you washed my clothes and folded them, you washed the dishes, and you just spoon fed me. Why don’t you have a boyfriend again?” I’m such as ass. Ha. Our friend told me he’d punch me.

Finally, we topped off the night with with this quote “We are grown ass women trying to make fart noises with our armpits.”

(We failed by the way.)

Another rare thing about today is that I have literally talked to everyone today. Clapper with his random comments about the place that I’m staying. Mr. Soup and his serious comment about being serious and territorial. My friend from Cali. Mr. Delicious and well us just being normal friends. Mr. Breadstick and our general conversations. Ma. Peace and Gaga. Romeo and Juliet. Ms. EatsPlentyOfCheeseburgers and our crazy in tune thoughts. And finally iamsohip and James Taylor, among other things.

What a day. Time for late night sexting. Hot damnnn.

Wounded Warriors


The Virginia Military Institute is doing a fundraising event for the Wounded Warriors Project called “Pullups for Patriots”. Click on the link above and sponsor on of the guys please. They are all VMI cadets. There is at least 1 veteran on the list with 2 deployments under his belt. And most of them are commissioning in the military on May 15th.

Please help support the men and women who gave their lives for your freedom.

(Side note: Mr. Soup and Mr. Breadstick are both on the list if that helps motivate any of you.)