Nothing exciting to report

Besides blogging, I also have one other (or as a former boss repeatedly told me, "It is AN OTHER, Scooter Girl. You Americans do not speak proper English." It was always my secret wet dream to tell him sweetly, "Bite me, Frenchy" but I never did because I didn't have the cajones back then) internet social site. Sometimes on this site I'll do a brief "thought" to share with my online friends.

Yesterday, I commented on how I wanted to retrieve some files from the garage. Took a lot of mental preparation and visualization before I even attempted to leave the safety of my wheelchair. It is less than twenty feet from the house to the garage and to my files but it might as well be twenty miles for me. If it were pre-accident me, I could have finished the task in less than five minutes. For post-accident me, it took a good forty-five minutes from start to finish.

I didn't do anything that would have harmed me, unless I fell or dropped something on my foot. I was careful and slower than slow. I carried two different phones; one tucked away in my bra, one in my pocket. It hurt to walk and I had to stop for a few breaks which is why it took so long. I found the files and was able to get back to my wheelchair.

Of course, I had to lay down and elevate my foot for three hours. I had no strength left by the time I made it to bed. I did it, though. It felt really, really good to know that I could do something for myself.

After that little adventure, I had such a feeling of accomplishment. Kind of like when I wiped my ass for the first time after months of having my parents clean me up, post surgery. It's the little things in life that make it sweet, right? Savor the moment, indeed.

Don't bring the kindling, this fire is out

The guy that called me earlier this week was someone I was once obssessed with - completely and totally. It was a great relationship - in my mind. In his, not too much. I drove friends crazy talking about him all the time. And all the time, I didn't mean that much to him.

I admit there is something about this guy that speaks to me in a way that sets him apart from most of the men I've met. Finally, after all these years, I've managed to shake him, kind of Etch-a-Sketch style.

Still find him charming and funny. Do I want to try and draw this out - maybe start a new whatever? Nah.

Karmic subpoena

My Internet stalking must have put out some kind of karmic bitch slap because the universe served me with a call from a former flame.

Enough said, I think. More tomorrow.

Night Stalker

It's almost 1am here in America's Finest City. I just finished stalking an ex-boyfriend on the Internet. WHAT? I was bored. Oh c'mon, we've all done it in some form or another. Despite what Trekkie of Avenue Q says, the Internet isn't always for PORN. Sometimes it's for, um, searching out old acquaintances because you want to reconnect...or, as in my case, I'm simply nosy. Truly, I don't really care about this other person's life, I merely want to see what he's accomplished since we were together.

Did I find out anything interesting? Not really. Married. Kids. Seems like he's a success in his chosen profession. Good for him. Was I disappointed nothing scandalous was lurking in his past? Honestly, maybe a little. Because sometimes, at 1am, you're curious to know that the person you once cared about and even dreamed of a possible future together, might not be so happy without you. I know, I know. No one needs to tell me how wrong this sounds...and how egotistical either. I didn't say my thought process was logical, it's 1am - I'm calling it an Internet Booty Call without any real booty.

I know I'm not the only girl in town that has this habit. Some of my closest friends are admitted practitioners...hmmm...perhaps that's why they're my friends. I can even name a few guys that have Internet stalked their exes. At least I'm not calling and hanging up once he answers his phone (this is so 1990's - before caller ID) or sitting outside his apartment building waiting for him to get back from his date (you know who you are); or pretending to "bump" into him at the grocery store with a cart filled with what looks like stuff for a romantic dinner date at home...uh, not that I've ever done that, I heard of a friend of a friend that pulled that stunt. By the way, it didn't even register on his radar. He couldn't get away fast enough. At least, that's what I heard.

I don't want to meet my ex and catch-up on our lives. There's not even the remotest possibility of any flames being rekindled. Not carrying any torches. No fire in my belly that needs quenching. It's 1am and I can't sleep. This is safer than Internet shopping or porn, right?

I think a lot of people Internet stalk their exes and would prefer not to admit it. That's why we do it late at night when everyone else is asleep. Because it feels kind of sleazy, naughty and fun all rolled into one.

I wonder what my 4th grade boyfriend is doing now...