I don’t want to go to work tomorrow. I’m trying to remember if alcohol is allowed on isagenix. Probably not. I never want alcohol but today would be a nice day to have it. So maybe tomorrow I will have a good excuse not to go to work…

The nagging thought that  I really don’t belong in San Diego is really eating at me again. That all this time has been a complete waste.  That I no longer have anywhere to belong. I’m not sure if I even want to be around people I know. I don’t know if  I even want anyone to know me. It all hurts. As soon as I get my passport, I’m thinking I’m just going to be taking trips as much as possible.  I’m in the mindset where I don’t care if I go into major debt doing this.

It’s like…there’s this mechanism working in me that wants soo badly to be around people, to enjoy and have a sense of community, while at the same time I violently want them away from me, like they’re bombs that’ll explode and hurt eventually. What the hell’s the problem anyway?

And NO, I am NOT PMSing. Like I said yesterday, maybe it’s the effects of pork. Ha.

I started the day late, so I had the shake late and I ate late, so I don’t think I’ll want my next shake until way later. For lunch I had a bit of salmon which I baked with some dill and parsley. And broccoli. It was fine. I’ve come to the conclusion already that Isagenix is thoroughly doable for me, with a bit of self-control. Yeah. Self control. I haz it. Not always, but I know it’s because I allow it.

It’s raining here in San Diego and like any San Diegan I went into hibernation and dared not leave the house. In fact, I dared not leave my room or my bed for that matter. So no outings or exercise. Which is fine. I need more sleep anyway.

Still have the skin of glowingness despite slip ups. So I don’t think I messed up too bad.

I figure if I’m gonna be all emotional about things, I might as well do a separate post instead of mixing it in with all the semi-objective posts that I’ve been doing. I look back on some posts that look very nice and somewhat interesting and informative, then I suddenly do a 180 and go psycho on everyone or i start rambling on and on about something stupid. So when I feel like doing a 180, I will simply do a new post. You have been officially warned.

After coming home from Seafood city and Tai chi, I felt like absolute crap. Not really because I ate tocino and BBQ, but because people were hitting on me. The kid down the street kept texting me over and over telling me how beautiful I am and junk, and while I should be more appreciative of his compliments I just felt kind of disgusted and irritated. I already told him, I don’t like the fact that he wants to be all romantic. Let me nip this in the bud right now, I thought to myself. So I made myself clear. But still he persists. He even texted strange sentences about Jesus and the Lord and God saving me, which I found highly irritating. I call him a kid but he claims to be 35. I suspect he is lying simply because I believe a 35 year old man doesn’t dwell in that mindstate. But if he is indeed telling the truth, then my opinion would be that he is an extremely lame 35 year old man that should go back and repeat high school.

So I told him to stop it right here and now. I appreciate the compliment, but I get the picture! No need to beat the dead horse of beauty as if you didn’t have anything more interesting or relevant to say to me. And you probably don’t. Why? Because you don’t really know me…and I don’t appreciate being violently hugged against my will, so you probably will never know me. Kthxbye.

So I haven’t received a text ever since, which is a huge relief. What the hell drove me to release my precious cell phone number? Insanity? Gratitude because he offered to be my bodyguard as I walked home? I will admit to being happy about that. Someone cared…Ha. Now, all together…Let’s all point and laugh at me. And sing…”If you be my bodyguard I can be your long pal… I can call you Betty and Betty when you call me you can call me Al”

On the trolley ride back home an older man hit on me. An older man who is legally blind and has been drinking for 2 days straight. The conversation went something like this:

Man: Excuse my breath. I’ve been drinking in TJ for 2 days straight. Sorry for my breath. Did you come from TJ? Sorry.

Me: No. I came from Tai Chi.

Man: You say you were visiting family? Where do they live?

Me: They live up north.

Man: Do you feel lucky? (loud trolley noises and babies crying)

Me: (heard him, but was violently puzzled at the question) WHY? WHAT?!

Man: (louder) I said, “DO YOU FEEL LUCKY?” I’m going to the casino to try my luck. Come with me. You’ll have fun.

Me: Casinos are boring to me.

Man: I’m sorry to disturb you. I’m only talking a lot because I’ve been drinking. 2 days straight. I appreciate you talking to me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I need someone to talk to sometimes. I need a friend. Do you want a friend? Will you call me sometimes? We can go out to eat. We can go to the beach.

Me: I don’t give out my numbers to strangers.

Man: I’m Anthony and you are?

Me: (trying to think of a fake name, but failing) Jennifer

Anthony: Nice to meet you Jennifer. Now we know each other. Let me give you my number. I can’t call you because I’m legally blind.

Me: (still in a pissy mood after telling kid to stop texting) Don’t bother. I can tell you right now that I will NOT call you because I don’t know you.

Anthony: But you know me, I’m Anthony. My number is…

Me: (interrupting) I meant, as a person.

Anthony: (pensive) True…true…But I can tell you right now, that I’m a pretty good guy. I want a friend. A WOMAN friend. Don’t you want a friend? By the way, I’m sorry for this. I’m soo soo sorry for this. I’ve been drinking. And I’m legally blind. Here is my number.

Me: (lying) I HAVE friends. And it’s okay, I understand, you’re drunk.

Anthony: (suddenly morose) I don’t have any friends at all. They’ve all passed on.

Me: *silence*

Anthony: And I’m NOT drunk, I’ve BEEN DRINKING. For 2 days straight. Sorry for all this. And I’m legally blind so I can’t take your number. Let me give you my number…

Me: Okay…I understand that you’ve BEEN DRINKING. 2 days straight. Don’t you think it’s a bit unwise to be giving out YOUR number to complete strangers on the trolley? You’ve known me, what, 3 minutes? What if I’m a [making claw hands and a scary face]…[in a loud whisper] MASS MURDERER?

Anthony: You’re not a mass murderer, are you? You look like a good person. Can I give you my number now?

Me: I know, but what if? Right now your judgment is impaired because you are under the influence. I could very well be one.

Anthony: Well I guess then I’ll be dead.

Me: Exactly.

Anthony: (pouting and crossing his arms) It’s because I don’t have the rap like when I was young…

Me: The rap?

Anthony: When you talk and get girls to hang around you. I don’t have it anymore. That’s what it is. I’m 52 years old and don’t have the rap.

Me: Believe me, even if you were younger, I wouldn’t take your number because there’s nothing I dislike more than “the rap”. I don’t fall for that c-rap.

Anthony: My stop is coming up, my number is *he recites his phone number. don’t ask me, I don’t remember it* Please call me. We’ll talk. We’ll eat. We can go to the beach. (sadly) you won’t give me your number?

Me: I’ll tell you right now, not to expect my call. And I no longer give my number out to strangers. But it was nice to meet you. Good luck at the casino. Maybe you can find a friend there.

Anthony: I hope so. It was good to talk to you. Don’t talk to strangers.

Me: Bye.

So stuff like this has been happening all week. It’s almost eerie. With the apologies and the insisting on talking to me…Why can’t the person I actually have feelings for be this persistent? Oh yeah. I forgot. He doesn’t care. That last statement is the main point of why I was so down when I got home.

I took three times the dosage of the broken-hearted potion I got from Isha Lerner before leaving for the performance with Judy and Richard. What could it harm, it’s just brandy with flower squeezins. And my heart is frustrated and supremely upset. Do I only love those who don’t love me? I used to pride on only loving those who loved me back…not waiting in vain for anyone. Makes me wonder if it’s a side effect of the pork I had earlier today. Perhaps this is why pork is so unhealthy. It makes you love in a needless and excessive way. Pork. The OTHER heart breaker. In more ways than one.

SHEESH. I just looked at this post so far, and even though I have another volume left to write about today, I’m going to stop. It’s just madness and I’m just going to spend the rest of the night playing Animal Crossing.

Update: The kid just texted me again. And it appears he has no comprehension of anything I’ve said. UGH.

Okay Animal Crossing calls to me…only thing I will happily answer right about now.