Okay I lied.

I'm not over that guy yet. I'm home sick today and I just found out that his long distance girlfriend is in the office. I can't stop crying.

I like this guy so much and he knows it. It's been almost eight months now and it won't stop. Every time I think I'm over him he either says or does something that makes me like him again. It fucking blows.

Donovan (his new alias) is everything I ever wanted. He's funny, smart, warm, silly, and just an overall good guy. He's got a big build and warm face, a real life teddy bear. I think he's absolutely beautful inside and out.

I've never had lukewarm feelings for anyone. If I like you, I love you. I love Donovan with my heart and soul. It hurts so much not to have it reciprocated. It's torture having my dream guy just out of reach.

I have no idea what I would have done had I been in the office today. I think I would have laid under my desk in the fetal position and waited for her to leave. I can't help but feel that he betrayed me in some way by bringing her on my turf. Maybe it's the fact that he didn't consider my feelings about it, but then again why should he? My world revolves around me, his world revolves around him.

At this point I've had such a roller coaster relationship with Donovan in my fantasy world that I can't even imagine what it would truly be like in reality. I don't know why I can't just let go. There's no reason to have hope after this long.

I signed up for eharmony a couple of weeks ago. It's okay, much better than shopping for sausage on Match. I'm practically forcing myself to be interested in the guys on there, but I can't. I think I should just accept that I'm in a miserable dating rut and leave it at that.

Shitballs.

Why Thighs?

I have 26 inch thighs. It's the equivalent of having a toddler wrapped around my femur.

My thighs have been my dirty little secret for years. Of course anyone who sees me walking down the street can see that I'm pear shaped, rubenesque if you will. I've had an active sex life and definitely not shy under the sheets, but I never, ever wear shorts and only wear skirts that cover my knees.

So why would I name myself Thighs if my own are something I hate and am ashamed of? Oddly enough, it just feels right.

Of the few clear childhood memories I have, I remember the first time I noticed my thighs were bigger than other girls. I was in first grade and the class was sitting on our knees singing a song, slapping the tops of our legs. I looked around at all the petite girls with their small little thighs that barely made any noise while mine sounded like thunder. I was the tallest girl in class so it made sense I'd have thicker legs, but it was at that moment that I had discovered my thighs and decided that they were ugly.

Over 20 years later, I still feel the same way. Naming myself Thighs is my way of facing my dirty little secret and sharing it with the world. Here's hoping this will help me learn to love them no matter what size they are.

Countdown to 30.

I was thinking about what I wanted the theme of this blog to be. I was tempted to delete this blog and start off fresh with my latest reccurring thought...I turn 30 next year.

It reminds me of when I first got my period (no I have never seen the Vagina Monologues). I was 11 years old, no one was home but my grandmother who was visiting for a few days. Ever since I was kid my inner monologue becomes a Wonder Years/Sex in the City voice over, especially when I reach a milestone of sorts. "Are you there God? It's me, Thighs. Today I became a woman, but I don't feel like one. Am I supposed to? Do I have to start wearing makeup?" Fast forward 18 years to today, when my random thoughts about turning 30 can be shared with the zero people reading this.

Thought number one, my countdown to 30 is special enough to delete my previous posts. Why? Okay, this is a huge leap, but maybe it's all about clean slates. And what is a clean slate? Is it literally erasing my past or the acceptance of it, with the peace of knowing it made me who I am today?

I LOVED that Eagles fan up until last week, my Internet went out again for a little while, and while I'm only 7 weeks into 2007, I'm pretty darn excited for this year.

My mind races all the time, why wouldn't my blog? Even the 6 o'clock news has its water-skiing squirrel moments.