John said something about Bush�s tax cut. Frankly, I don�t even remember what he was saying. I do know that I did not disagree with what he was saying, but I had a point to make (of course I did) so I began to make it.

Well�John cut me off. In retrospect, I know what was happening. He just wanted to say a little something, he didn�t want to get in to a big ol� discussion. It was late, he was probably tired (at least he sounded like he was) and he just wanted to say his piece without having to think too much and he was afraid that my comment was going to lead into a discussion requiring him to do so. Understandable, really, and I am not immune to feeling this way. That said, though, the way he went about conveying this at the time was very rude and hurt my feelings.

It wasn�t just that he cut me off once. I tried a few times to say what I wanted to say. I also tried to let him know I just had something to add and it wasn�t going to lead to a big ol� anything. He just did not want to listen (listening is not exactly second nature to him anyway; it is something he has to actually concentrate on doing).

So I hung up on him.

He called back of course, but only because he didn�t know I had hung up on him. He was on his cell phone, I was on one of a cordless variety. He assumed one of our phones had cut the call short.

I explained that I hung up because he evidently didn�t want to listen to anything I had to say anyway, so why pile up the toll charges? We had a little "conversation" about it and then it was over.

I made my point, but in truth I over-reacted. My only excuse is that I did so because this has been going on for years. I listen all night and day long to him talk about his job, his friends, his political opinions. I�m not saying he doesn�t hear all of this from me, too, but�he doesn�t hear near as much as he says. Sometimes he just needs to be reminded that I have a mouth as well as ears.

Following is an account of my days since the last ya�ll really heard from me�

Friday, May 23:

My company generally lets everyone leave a few hours early the day before a holiday. This day was no exception.

Actually, I should back up a tad, though�since I had to drive to John�s neck of the woods on Friday and since Friday was the first day of a long weekend, I felt it may behoove me to actually take Friday off and drive up in the morning, thus hopefully forgoing most of the anticipated holiday traffic. I discussed this option with the Little Big Man earlier in the week and he promptly informed me that he himself was going to leave at noon on Friday. Hmm�bummer; cuz that meant I couldn�t take the day off or our department would be left in anarchy, without a manager around. I couldn�t leave at noon for the same reason. Plus, so long as salespeople at the office are entering new orders in to the system, someone from my department has to be there, in case those orders go on credit hold. Should an order go on hold, we need to review it and see if we really want it to ship or not. There are only three people in my department who have the authority to do this: LBM, Kim and me.

The end result is that I was the very last one out of here on Friday. As LBM took off at noon and I didn�t want to make Kim stay late*, I stayed until 4:00pm. Still, this meant I left a tad early which, while it did not save me from the holiday traffic, was still better than the alternative.

And it only took me about an hour longer than usual to get to Santa Cruz, so no biggie.

I got there at about 10:00pm and John proceeded to piss me right the hell off. I broke my glasses, you see.

Not making sense? Let me �splain�

After I got to his pad and all, I decided to remove my contact lenses and wear my glasses, as my eyes were tired (and when they are tired, my contacts hurt my eyes like little mother-fuckers). Now, as I may have mentioned here before, my glasses are (were) about fifteen years and four prescriptions old. They are (were) also crooked and sat on my face at an angle. Yes, I need new glasses. I most definitely do now. Well, my specs seemed to be even more crooked than usual as I put them on Friday. Therefore, in my dorkiness, I attempted to straighten them out a little bit.

Oops.

They done busted.

I am blind as the proverbial bat without my contacts and even though my glasses may have been old, I still wanted to know they were available in the event my eyes got tired or, heaven forbid, some other reason arose which required me to wear glasses rather than contacts. So I was rather bummed when my glasses up and broke on me. John had no super-glue or any such sticky substance, so I decided to try and tape the two pieces together.

What pissed me off was this: I asked John to help me by holding the two pieces of what used to be my glasses together while I attempted the quick fix. He did, but all the while he was doing so he kept telling me the tape wouldn�t work. Over and fucking OVER again. My point was, �Well, why not try? The glasses are broken right now and apparently we have no glue options. Therefore, I�m going try the tape. Is it gonna HURT anybody to try? No.� But he just kept TELLING me and NOT LISTENING to my line of logic. Therefore, I finally just threw my hands up in frustration and said, �Look John. I just got here after driving for seven hours. I�m tired. My back hurts. I just broke my fucking glasses. Would you please just hold this piece of shit and just be quiet for like two minutes?�

And that was the extent of the "fight". But my glasses were still broken and no, the tape didn�t work. Well after it was all over, John intimated that I had just ruined the evening by getting a little pissy at him.

But John has this thing�it�s like he constantly has to prove to me how much more he knows than I do. On top of that, every time anything happens he has to turn it around it make it appear as if everything is my fault. It could be anything. Our car could get stuck in the mud and he would manipulate the facts to make it seems as if I was the cause of the mud. Believe me when I tell you that I am not exaggerating here. And it all makes even the simplest of things an emotional dung-heap through which I trudge. It wears on me and is one of the main reasons we do not live together anymore. And over Memorial weekend, while we had and awful lot of fun, I was reminded over and over again why we are no longer together.

*If you are like Barbi, you might be asking, �Why not? Aren�t you the boss?� as she did. Well, yes this is true. And I guess I could have made Kim stay, but I wouldn�t have. That would have sucked, big time � to make her stay in her cubicle when everyone else is sashaying out of the office on their way to a long weekend of fun. I�m not that big of a jerk!

Sat. May 24:

We left John�s at 7:00am. It remained foggy up there every day until about noon, but after that it was sunny and clear and in the low-seventies the whole weekend. Just lovely. It was about a 2 � hour drive to Mendocino, but on our way up we took many little detours (and discovered strange little blue jellyfish stranded all over the shore up there. A Lifeguard said they had been drifting ashore for years, at least, so I assume this was something natural, but it was weird. And kinda gross cuz I accidentally stepped on a few of them�in my bare feet�eew�John is convinced they did not wash up due to anything natural, though, and I think finding the reason for the washed-ashore jellies has become his new life�s ambition), so we arrived at about noon or so. This town is just so f�n cute (and hey, blo, they filmed Murder She Wrote in Mendocino!); lots of little galleries and antique stores and cute little shops. And we stayed at the coolest place, too. It was actually a refurbished water-tower; three levels and a widow�s walk on the roof which was an ideal place to relax come sunset time.

So basically, the first day we explored the town. Oh and we ate a lot and drank tankards of champagne and other assorted wines (did a bit of wine-tasting, dontcha know).

Among my purchases for the day (aside from wine) was a new pair of hiking boots, which was great. They were on a super-sale, too. Woo-Hoo! We saw an ad in the morning for this sale at The Great Outdoors and actually went in to look at a kayak they had on sale. I didn�t buy the kayak, but I am so happy about my boots. I totally needed them. Plus, they�re just light-hikers, so hopefully I can use them on my regular walks, too, and forgo buying new walking shoes for now.

Sun. May 25:

We rented a Harley Davidson on which to cruise around all day. What a blast! We had way too much fun. We did a lot of hiking (I was sore until the following Thursday, in fact) in the state parks they have all over up there. That area is just so gorgeous. If you�re not looking at the awe-inspiring coastline, you�re driving through miles and miles of Redwoods and other assorted, huge trees. And there aren�t tons of people around, either; at least there wasn�t at this time.

We found a little cove by the ocean, all to ourselves. This was most wonderous. We were driving along the coastline, north of Mendocino, stopping every once in a while to take a closer look. We ran in to very few people at all this whole day. So fab! So on one of our little stops, we were looking down in to this little cove and noticed a hiking trail, leading down the cliff. Off we went.

Aside from one gal we met on the way down, we were the only ones around. What we discovered was, as I said, a little cove, completely engulfed and surrounded by the cliff walls and tide pools. It was like a little bay, maybe half a mile of coastline with the tide pools and rocks jutting out at each end (I hope that makes sense. Description is not exactly my forte). The main point here is, of course, that nobody could see us. Even is someone happened by the road above us, you could not actually see us down at the bottom, unless you had a pair of binoculars and knew where we were. Plus, we could see anyone coming before they could see us.

Uh�needless to say, we perused the tide pools and then frolicked in the surf absolutely, bare assed nekkid! How often does one get the chance to do that in California? Not bloody often, I tell ya�we had such a blast. The waves were way huge, though. I couldn�t go swimming very far away from shore, because these were not stinkin� 2 foot, Huntington Beach waves, no sirree bub. That water was rough and the waves must have been like eight feet. Luckily, they broke far enough away from the shore that we could still goof around in the water.

The one gal we met on the way down, though�she was hiking her way up and looking absolutely fabulous. It was really gross, believe me. I was only on the way down, which as we all know is a hell of a lot easier than climbing up a cliff, and I still looked way more horrid than she. Her hair was perfectly flowing down her back (whereas mine was tied on to the top of my head because even 72 degrees feels hot when one is hiking down the side of a cliff at 2:00pm) and she had not broken a sweat. She was quite the hottie and just how did that happen?

Because me on the way back up the cliff? Not so attractive.

So this little hike of ours was only one mile down, mostly via switchbacks, and therefore one mile back up. No big deal, although in spots we had to break out the actual rock climbing skills on the way up (using both arms, both legs). It wasn�t difficult, though, and most of the time it was just a steep, uphill climb (on a very thin trail, though)�Except that I ran out of water while down at the beach.

I drink tons of water. I need tons of water. I must have water at my aside at all times. When I know I do not have a readily available water-source within easy access, my mouth completely dries up and I start to panic.

And I ran out. DOH!

I kept my wits about me, but believe me when I say that I have never been happier to see a Shell station as I was after we ended our hike and drove to the one back on the highway a bit so that I could get me some damn water.

We talked about going out to dinner and even had even picked out a seemingly-nice place that morning. We were so capooped that we ended up ordering a pizza and spent the evening in the hot tub in our room.

Mon. May 26 (Memorial Day):

We woke up pretty early and had one last, leisurely breakfast on the roof before checking out. We stuck around town for a few hours, though, peeking in to more shops and learning a bit about the history of the area. We took Highway 1 (PCH) all the way back to John�s pad. This takes a lot longer than less scenic routes, but it is a gorgeous drive. We stopped for a late lunch in Half Moon Bay which is a cute little coastal town that I love and again took a long walk on the beach - this time at sunset. John bar-b-qued dinner, in true Memorial Day fashion.

All-in-all, this was quite the lovely trip. That is, the trip was lovely. John bothered me as often as not.

He was what I consistently call �picking� on me, but what in truth is a combination of what was explained above: either trying to prove how much more he knows than me about any and every given subject and/or trying to blame even the littlest of negative things on me. Throw in that fucking mocking that he seems to find so amusing and you�ve got one irritated little ikss, here.

~~~

I�ve been thinking about our trip all week and now that it is actually Monday, June 2 and John and I have spent another weekend together (he came down here this past weekend), I am even more confused. Perhaps writing it all out will help to illuminate.

One of my main thoughts after our trip was: Sure, I had a great time. I always have a great time when we go away and aren�t I lucky to be seeing a guy who likes to go away and do stuff like this?

This is all true. I know a lot of people say they like to get away for long weekends, they like to travel, yadda-yadda-yadda. The reality is that most people do these things at the beginning of a relationship and then the trips trickle away. People don�t have time or they don�t have the resources or they don�t have the gumption to get up and go anymore than maybe once a year, ya know? So I�m lucky I found a kindred spirit in this area. In fact, John and I are interested in many of the same things.

We both love the outdoors and we�re pretty evenly matched in our physical capabilities. In this area, I invariably find that the men I date are either total adventure-seekers and extreme-sport enthusiasts who can run circles around me on top of a mountain before they decide to snowboard down to the bottom and take in a scuba dive while they wait for me to slowly hike down or they can barely walk down the street without taking a cigarette break. John and I are always up for the same types of mini-adventures (you know, the ones with a hot tub and a bottle of champagne waiting for us at the end).

John is interested in art, as am I. However, this is another area where I am pretty much mediocre. Yes, I know quite a bit about it; but get me in to circles of artsy-fartsy folks and it will become clear that I know relatively little. John knows less than me about art, but at least he enjoys going to museums and galleries and is open to learning about it. How many men do you know who have these qualities and can also tell you within just a few minutes exactly what is wrong with your Lexus AND your computer and what needs to be done to fix it?

John shares my interest in history. This comes in handy when we�re trying to figure out where to go on vacation and what to do when we get there. It also comes in handy when trying choose between the Sci Fi channel and the Discovery channel.

John actually likes to go to the mall. He is the one who most often recommends it, in fact. He enjoys shopping.

John enjoys and goes out in search of good food.

John enjoys going wine-tasting.

John and I enjoy many of the same things. The question is, do we really enjoy each other�s company? The afterthought was/is: Is it that I am having fun with John or is it just that I would be having fun in Mendocino (or wherever) and John just happens to be the one there with me? Do I really enjoy being with John or is he just handy? Moreover, I have never felt secure that John actually wants to be with me. The fact that he constantly �picks� on me is a major part of that problem, I�m sure�

And I just do not have an answer for these questions, yet. I thought I did, last week. After I got home, I thought I knew which direction I needed to head. I wasn�t going to stop seeing him, but I was going to make a more concerted effort to see other people and pull away a tad; keep a safe distance.

Now I just don�t know.

When I left to come back home, John kept my car. I needed an oil change, so we switched vehicles; he would change my oil and we would switch vehicles again the following weekend.

Well, I�ve not talked about it here but it has often seemed as if my little Nissan (purchased just over a year ago) is cursed. Among other things beyond the fault of this mere mortal, people keep bumping in to my poor, cute little car. Door dings; bumps while parallel parking in the street, stuff like that. As a result, I had several scratches and finally someone really hit me in a parking lot a couple of weeks ago and I had a dent by my back bumper. None of these things were ever enough to bother about actually spending money to get fixed (and none of them would cost more than my insurance deductible, most likely), but my cute little Nissan was beginning to look a little sad.

Not only did John change my oil and perform other maintenance duties on my car, he got rid of my dent; he hand-buffed and waxed my entire car and bought touch-up paint for any scratches that could not simply be buffed out.

My freakin� car looks brand spankin� new now.

Oh and then yesterday he helped me move furniture around my pad, including my desk which we had to actually take apart and put back together again and it�s kind of a pain in the patootie to do so.

Plus, he was way sweet all weekend. He was so nice to me, it was really�well, kinda nice.

I did try to talk to him last week and again on Saturday about the issues I have�of course, he didn�t listen to me. At least, not obviously.

It is my theory, though, that somewhere he realized he was being a big pill and decided to do some nice things to show me he is not such a bad guy, after all. Little things he said to me over this past weekend lead me to believe this.

But if you asked him, he�d just say he�s always nice; his behavior hasn�t changed. This is him and the fact that I sometimes think he�s picking on me is just all in my head and really isn�t happening at all. That�s exactly what he�d say because he has said as much to me many times.

And the fact that it�s a crock of bug shit just makes it more difficult for me to figure things out; because if he can�t see what�s really happening in himself and be honest about it, I don�t really know what I am dealing with. On the one hand, if he figured out he was being a turd and decided to make amends, he did a great job at it. On the other, if this really was just �him� and he has these swings in attitude toward me, I need to decide whether or not the good stuff is worth putting up with the bad. And if his picking on me is really a sign of his inability to see the really great person that I am and enjoy being with that person, is the occasional trip to Mendocino (or wherever) worth any of this?

Or am I just over-reacting to what are really just ordinary couple-growing pains and I should just relax?

AARRGGHH!!!

Help me�

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~~~~~~~~~~~peace, love and smooches~~~~~~~~~~~~~


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