I have this irritating little habit of falling in love with men who are unavailable, either emotionally, or physically, or both. The Boy, who does have a name, it's Troy, lives in Boston, so that would be the physical part. He lives in a whole different state and he doesn't come home very often. And he has no idea how I feel, so as much as I bitch about him, he doesn't know, which is my fault, but it feels inappropriate to tell someone, "Hey! Guess What? I'm in love with you! And I have been for ages!" via e-mail. Am I wrong in thinking that it would be much better to spring that on someone in person? So my frustration with him, is my own fault. Trisha would counter, and has countered, that he should know what he's got and appreciate it without me having to say anything. But I know how I am when someone is interested in me, unless they hit me over the head, and flat out say, "Hey, I like you!" I have no clue. And according to my sources, most men are like that, as well. My assumption (and I know what they say about people who assume!) is that he's like that.

I love him so much, it hurts. He sends me from the highest joys to the lowest doldrums and I think part of me lives for that. It's like some sick, twisted form of self-torture. But there is safety in it. I know it. I'm actually quite comfortable there. And once I tell him, then that safety net is gone and all that is left is the truth and a very vulnerable me, feeling naked and horribly exposed by it. I've done this once before and it didn't turn out very well, but that's because I was toyed with once the truth was in the open. (Some people might debate the facts of that last statement, but that is my perception of the situation.) And so I'm pretty damned terrified to say to this man those three little words that pack such a wallop. And once all is said there is no going back. But I want to tell him, have wanted to tell him for such a very long time. So, do you think it's time for me to step into the light? Or, do I hide and cower in my comfortable darkness? Frankly, I feel he must be told. It seems like the honourable thing to do. The next question becomes when. I shall sift through it, feel my way, but I know what must be done. We both deserve the Truth.

I admit it, I'm into astrology. Not in a live or die by it kind of way, but in a "Holy Crap! I can't believe how dead on that is!" kind of way, and this is this week's FreeWillAstrology Horoscope for me! (And any other Aries.)

Happy Valentine Daze, Aries! During my quest for the advice that might be most helpful to your love life, I gathered the following words of wisdom. 1. "There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness." -Friedrich Nietzsche. 2. "Love is not about losing freedom; it's about sharing freedom with a partner who's as talented a liberationist as you." -my friend Sarah. 3. "I hunger for your sleek laugh and your hands the color of a furious harvest. I want to eat the sunbeams flaring in your beauty." -Pablo Neruda.

I just thought that this was lovely, which is why I had to share it. Have a peach of a day, everyone!

Saturday, I had gone shopping at the SouthGate Plaza, in West Seneca, with my mother. It's actually a lovely little place but I realized that I really don't like suburbia. It's the whole Soccer Mom, SUV, bratty kids that are wearing clothes from Limited Too, narrow-minded Suburbian thing that really rattles my teeth. I have realized that I don't want *That* kind of life. I definitely want to find my Prince Charming and get married and have babies but I would much prefer to live in the city, to have a large Victorian house in the city, and just have that kind of life. And rather than being Soccer Mom, I want to be a Choir Parent! I want to have to shuffle my kids from school and then off to choir practice, Boys- Tuesdays and Thursdays, Girls- Wednesdays and Fridays. And some un-Godly hour on Sunday mornings for one of them. Taking a baby for a walk in the Pram that my mother used for myself and my brothers, assuming, of course, that I continue to win the battles over the War of the Pram. It's things like that that I see so very clearly. I just have to work on my Prince Charming, either wear him down or find a new one! And the new one, if I go that route, will hopefully have similar visions. Hmmm.... Something else to add to my list? See, Dr. Chlorine, I also like my lists.

Terrah

Thank you, Dr. Chlorine. My vocabulary is something I am very proud of and try very hard to cultivate! ;)

Well, it's looming over me. I, the writer, have no idea where to even begin. Trisha's was easy in comparison. I just sat down at the kitchen table and wrote what I felt. To be perfectly honest, I doubt I can say what I really feel this time because I'm not sure what that is. But part of me wants to do something else. I don't know. How dorky would it be to just sing a song that I think represents what they'll really be feeling, because right now, that's where I'm headed. I'll have to stew over this some more. Maybe I'll try writing something and if I'm not happy with it, I'll do the song thing. Hmmm... I'll keep y'all posted.

I detest Valentine's Day. Absolutely cannot stand it. I suppose that this is because I have been single for every single one my entire life and I can't stand walking into every single store and being bombarded with red and pink and white and fake "I Love You" sentiments. If you truly love someone, then do something nice when you aren't required by society to be so. It just seems to cause more stress and anxiety to couples and make single people feel really, really low. Last year, I spent my Valentine's Day with one of my very best friends, just talking. And when I went outside, my car wouldn't work. It turned out it was bad gas. What a bummer. Two years ago, I spent the Dreaded Day with my agoraphobic, Schitzo-effective friend. We watched the most Anti-Valentine's Day and Anti-Love movie I could find- my choice- "Dangerous Liasons"- sooo decadent and sooo bad and sooo, well, just sooo. This year, perhaps, I think I will go in the opposite direction. This year, especially as it falls on a Monday, I think I'll come home from work, hole myself up in my room and watch all five hours of A&E's "Pride and Prejudice", perhaps with a bottle of wine. We shall see. But "Pride and Prejudice" I think it shall be. What a lovely way to counter all of the ill effects of that odious, dreaded day!

So, last night, Mrs. Trisha, myself and our dear friend, Miss-soon-to-be-Mrs. Natalie went out for dinner in order to send off our friend to wedded bliss. It was just the three of us as it has been many times over the ten years that all three of us have been friends. Natalie did not want a Bachelorette Party, nothing like the Bachelorette Extravaganza that was Trisha's (and my liver thanks Natalie, Highly!) So dinner it was decided. Trisha was late and Natalie and I were on the verge of freaking out, feeling guilty and trying hard not to. It wasn't our fault that we had a table and were ready to order and Trisha was no where to be seen, right? But, she did arrive, in frazzled fashion and once we heard the tale of In-Laws at her apartment, we totally understood. And then Mine and Natalie's guilt was assauged- our dinner companion had arrived!

We had gone to the Poppyseed, and for those of you that don't know and have never been there, truly great food, everything's fresh, and the prices are pretty resonable. It was so good to just laugh and talk and eat and laugh and talk. After dinner, we were trying to decide just what to do. It was early, only 9:30. Who the hell goes out to bars at 9:30? No one we know, so we swung to Natalie's mom's, to kill sometime and talk wedding stuff and see the beautiful bouquets that she's made for us, and then we went to the Bear's Den, a local Lackawanna watering hole. It was quarter to 11 at this point, still early, but doable at least. So we went out for a beer and just laughed like we hadn't in years. We're all so very different, the three of us, but we work, we blend, we mesh, and as we've known each other for so long, it doesn't seem to matter how long we haven't seen each other or talked to each other, we still fit into our neiches of Blossom (myself), Buttercup (Trisha), and Bubbles (Natalie). For those people out in the cosmos that know us, they know precisely how apropos those little monikers really are.

I can't believe that The Wedding (Part deux) is in exactly TWO WEEKS! And I still haven't written a word in manner of a speech. I'd better get going on that.

TTFN

Dapled sunlight hits her hair causing it to glisten like gold at dawn. Cold, cold air brushes over her face making her eyes water and her nose and cheeks turn a vibrant shade of pink. "This is winter," she thinks, as she trudges onward, "and I am longingly waiting for Spring." Then, she spies a very little rose bud, somehow still alive despite the cold snap and she smiles. Such a tiny little miracle in the midst of December

Well, the next wedding that I am Maid of Honour in is in three weeks. Three weeks and then my insanity of past almost two years is over! I will actually have money for myself again! And not have to worry about, "Should I bring a date, and if so, who do I actually have to ask?" Those of you that were at the last The Wedding may remember that my date, also known as the Boy, couldn't make it in, so I wound up dateless anyway. But frankly, I had more fun without him so that was a blessing in disguise. It also caused me to just boycott the whole notion of a wedding date for this one. Girls, let me give a word of advice, if two of your very best friends in the whole wide world are getting married within four months of each, and they both love you so much that they ask you to be maid of honour, and Christmas is smack-dab in the middle of both, BOW OUT OF ONE OF THEM! Or, and this is probably more appropriate, ask for help and accept it oh-so-gratefully if help is volunteered. I'm an Aries, through and through (although as I'm born on a cusp, I *do* tend to have some Piscean traits) and I'm not used to asking for help, no matter how difficult it makes my life. In fact, someone could offer to help and I almost always reply, "No, thank you. I can do it myself." And the sad part is, I usually do, no matter how stressed out I make myself! Hello, my name is Andrea and I'm a control freak! At least I can admit my problem.

I have to admit for this, The Wedding, I'm in pretty good shape. I dropped my shoes off today, with a colour swatch of the dress fabric, to be dyed. And my dress has been taken in slightly and shortened. (Here's a sad, sad fact- I have three inch heels for this wedding, and my dress *still* had to be taken up three and a half inches! That is how short I am!) I just need a gift, which is going to be oh-so-exotic money, and a card and I'm all set and ready to go. I say that for now, but something is bound to happen! Oh, well. At least I know my Wedding Anxiety dream won't be coming true.

The thing that is going to suck about The Weddings both being over is that I will have no legitimate reason to continue buying "Martha Stewart Weddings" without my mother looking at me weird. That freaking magazine is like Crack! for those of you that don't know, it's the Wedding Bible. I highly recommend.

I think that's about all. Good night!

Breathless...
With Anticipation, she waits,
As the dye takes hold,
Takes root, in her hair,
"What will he write tonight?"
She wonders.
Alas, it must wait a little longer,
Anticipation, breathless,
Time to rinse.

• sigh*

Good night, sweet prince.
My hair says I must bid you
Adieu.