Walked a half-hour with Tom in perfect weather conditions. My hips are fine, but who knows how they’ll feel later? To think that I’m getting too “old” to run kinda pisses me off. I’m 50, not 80. Still planning on getting a skier to replace the treadmill with on days I work out indoors.

My little king (Burke) had fun going up and down the ramps to get treats, but his roommates don’t quite get that yet. They beg upstairs. I hear squeaking now, so they’re probably cleaning each other.

Yesterday proved that even us 50-year-olds can have some mischievous and immature moments. I wasn’t ready for bed but didn’t have enough energy left to do anything productive so I decided to do a little Aly retweeting and let my sarcastic side fly a bit. She basically bitched about her feelings being trampled on and I was enjoying seeing that karma bit her in the ass and I wasn’t afraid to say so. I could never hate her so bad as to wish she’d get hit by a bus or something like that, but it was kind of nice, even if two wrongs never make a right, to see someone have absolutely no regard whatsoever for how she feels.

She keeps saying I hate her. Wrong. I hated the lies and the phoniness. I hated being thrown away like yesterday’s trash. That’s what I hated. I hated making a point of checking in with her from the hotels in Florida, knowing she was suffering from depression, just to come home to be insulted by finding that she tweeted how she was looking forward to not hearing from me during my vacation.

A part of me even hoped she’d want to resume the friendship, not just because I missed the positive side to what we had, but so that I could feed her a taste of her own medicine and dump her. But I don’t think I could bring myself to do that because then I’d be just as bad as she was if I led her to believe I cared and would always be there for her, just to eventually claim I was tired of our differences and then cast her aside like trash.

Naturally, she ran and told Kim of the RTs and Kim went on her blocking spree before I got a chance to change links. No problem though. I just dumped that account and created a new one. Then I took the honor of blocking two of Kim’s accounts, even though I’m not going to let either one of them know about this account. It’s not private, but I made sure it can’t be found easily.

In regards to my tweet about finding it strange that she hasn’t tweeted about cancer or chemo, she tweeted that she no longer shares personal info. I found this when I got up.

She did a little RTing of her own, too. Some tweet about getting that you don’t like me but not caring.

She said it wasn’t so much that she didn’t care, but that she was over the “childishness” because there was nothing to gain from it.

No, I think she truly and honestly doesn’t care. If she did she wouldn’t have dumped me.

Last night I dreamed it was late at night. I might’ve just finished watching a movie in a theater somewhere. I was supposed to call my parents to come and get me, but couldn’t find their numbers in my phone and couldn’t remember them off the top of my head either. I began to really worry when some guy said I missed the last bus.

Then I was shopping with some woman and just had to have an encyclopedia for some reason. It was one big book that I got rather than a set. The woman bought it for me and I assumed it was just $10. She shocked me by saying it actually cost $100. Then I was pissed because I noticed that a few lines on each page were overlapped.

In the last dream, I was following Alyssa on Twitter who blew my mind by saying the pics from her latest trip were a present for her 48th birthday. In reality, she’s 35, but in the dream, I was flabbergasted to learn she was that old.

Later…

A tiny part of me is tempted to pray my ass off every single day for Stacey to one day befriend me if I can stop needing to run to her for shit that happens to me, but I know better. I know exactly what’s going to happen and that fate cannot be changed through prayer, even if there is a God. Only what’s meant to be is going to happen to us whether we pray for it or not. I totally believe that. That’s why some prayers go unanswered. We can’t just ask for whatever and always get it or else everyone would always have everything they wanted.

Again, I know what’ll happen… I’m going to see her one more time. Instead of dropping small hints and exhibiting body language (though not on purpose) that at least makes me think she might like me, she’ll come off as oh-so-serious and professional as ever and will probably give me just 20 minutes instead of 45.

Then I’ll go home and miss the shit out of her while I think of her every single day just as I have been with her and with Alyssa until they slowly begin to fade a bit by being replaced by someone else I can never have a friend. In 5, 10, and probably even 20 years from now, I’ll still remember her name, but she’ll have forgotten mine.

That’s what will happen, probably to a tee.

I went info diving on her again. I don’t know why I’m such an info whore, but I guess it’s like a fun game… sort of like a treasure hunt. The object of the game is to uncover whatever tidbits of information I can. Well, I got more than I expected to find and that includes Stacy’s exact address in Auburn. I even know that she has a three-bedroom, two-bath house that’s almost 2000 ft.² and was built in 1988. I looked at it via satellite, and to be honest, it doesn’t exactly look like anything I picture a clinical psychologist to live in. It looks like a regular neighborhood, though it is certainly nicer than average. I’m sure she could get a lot more for the place than we could get for ours. It’s much nicer than our old neighborhood in Phoenix where everybody had one floor and little box houses about 1200 to 1400 ft.² Some of these houses had two floors. Stacey doesn’t have a pool, but then when would she find the time to use it? Anyway, they’re what I describe as “tooth houses,” but they’re not jammed as tightly together as we were in Phoenix and many neighborhoods in the west. The driveways also don’t run alongside the homes but go right up to the house instead. I’m surprised that the house only has a single-car garage being as big as it is.

Stacey is also said to be the “most famous” psychologist in the area. Well, she’s the best I’ve ever had.