So...

So... I quit blogging a year ago. My last post, Planning was dated June 4th, 2006:

I have never been one of those people who plans what to post in advance and/or posts them and saves them as drafts to be revealed later. But, over the weekend I have thought of a post I would like to make later. Stay tuned.

And then that was it. I closed my blog and I switched exclusively to a photo blog. "Stay tuned." Then nothing.

Why did I quit? Censorship is probably the biggest reason. It got to a point where I couldn't say what I wanted to say so I said little or nothing and every post was more vague than the next. Details were lost, hidden behind the reality of who was reading and the nonexistence of web anonymity. The funny thing is, I got so vague that when I went back to read entries, I don't know what I was talking about anymore. I don't want that to happen again.

So why am I starting a new blog? Old habits die hard, I guess. I blogged for 4 years; I've done web design for 10. I love my photo blog and will continue to post photos there, but it felt like a good time to start up a blog. Censorship is still an issue, maybe even more now than before, so I have created a new category for private entries. This category is password-protected and I have not yet decided who will be granted access. "Stay tuned."

[Sidebar: I do know what I was referring to in my final post last June, however now my views are very different. What a difference a year makes.]

So... the worst part about relationships is the power they still have over you long after the break up. I hate that songs are ruined, movies are messed up and now, even one of my favorite t-shirts is tainted. He said it was cute, and that he loved it. Every time I wore it, he put his hands up and growled this adorable growl. I wore it the day he made me very, very late which was a good day. I wore it the night I went to his house to return his things, the night we talked and I cried and he said he really did care for me, but the timing was bad. When I wore this shirt, I used to think of fun and cute things, like Jared saying "Bumble." Now I think of sadness.

It's not just the shirt, it's everything we ever did together. It's the songs we loved, the places we went, the movies we saw. It's his hobbies and his personality. I see him everywhere, I remember "us" all the time. And I know our relationship wasn't good, I know he's not the one for me, and yet.. I find myself thinking about all the good times in our relationship. Why can't I make myself focus on the bad things, make myself realize how much better off I am now? But somehow, my heart is blind to that side of it.

I hate that I'm such a girl and can't just pick up and move on. I hate that if he showed up again, I would probably want to see him again. And the thing I hate the most is that I don't really hate him, even when I say I do.

So... I'm sure that it happens to everyone, so I will start with a disclaimer: this is not about me being full of myself. This is not about be bragging about men being attracted to me. This is certainly not me saying I am "so" beautiful. On to the point..

How many times when driving have you noticed someone in the car over looking at you? Especially at stop lights, they sit there staring at you and then when you look up you get the head nod. The "yeah I'm looking at you" nod. And I wonder, what do they really expect to happen?

Do the guys who do this really expect me to jump out of my car and give them my number? To stare back adoringly? Has this ever happened to them? Instead I look over, annoyed, and then turn away thinking what an idiot they are. Not an idiot for noticing me, because who wouldn't? (Oh wait.. I forgot I already gave the disclaimer.. oops!) But, they are certainly an idiot because these are the types of guys who will only hit on a woman at "safe" times. They can't really be turned down because we are both in our cars and in 30 seconds will be driving off in different directions. But, were we standing together in line, they wouldn't say a thing.

So my question is, why is it that 95% of the time when this happens that the man is Mexican?