I still think of him. Almost daily.

It’s been a year and a half since I professed my feelings to him. Through email. Because he lives six states north of here.

And I still think of him. Far too often.

It’s a complete mix of feelings. The twinge of deep regret. The relentless embarrassment. The entirely too strong desire.

Some days my cheeks turn a bright shade of pink for being so foolish. Other days my lungs fill with rage over being misled.

Either way, I still think of him.

It’d been a long, long time since my interest was peaked so ferociously. He was sparkly and witty and kind and funny and beautiful. He was flawed and insensitive and selfish and sometimes petty.

He was intriguing and could sing and strum the guitar. Attributes I’ve always found intoxicating.

Perhaps I was blinded by rose-colored glasses. Maybe I’d come to know him too well. Or maybe I’d come to know him far too little.

But I wanted him more than I’d wanted anything.

And I still think of him.

Yesterday, I tweeted at both Kevin Richardson and John Mayer. In the same day. You know, because we’re BFFs  and they’re both SURE to see that lil’ ole me dedicated less than 140 characters to them.

Only later in the day did it cross my mind how silly it seemed. And just as quickly as that thought came to mind, I decided I didn’t much care. I love me some Kevin and John. So there.

Besides. Twitter is an odd beast. It’s a place to brag about accomplishments, share late-breaking news, start “campaigns,” bitch about coworkers and generally give way too much information out with a few strokes of the keyboard – or cell phone.

So anyway. The reason for tweeting @KevinRichardson was pretty simple. I dreamed about him. Well, him and the rest of the Backstreet Boys. And while the majority of you know how BIG of a BSB fan I am, I can attest to the fact that dreaming about them is rare. And kind of odd. Like stalkerish without the actual stalking. Either way, there was a huge concert in Boston. Kevin was there. Lil’ Wayne was there. T-Pain was there. Rihanna was there. It was like their fame from the 90s came back in full swing and all of a sudden they were hosting this ridiculous show. In Boston.

I know. I don’t get it either.

When I eventually woke up, it was to a phone filled with tweets from Kevin, who had been posting pictures of his roadtrip through the West.

I sense some irony.

With @JohnCMayer it was even simpler. I got wind of Battle Studies, his new album that drops next week. And since getting my grubby fingers on it, I’ve done nothing but listen to it obsessively. I even went looking for the best deals for purchasing it on vinyl. Luckily, those were easily found. Sadly, it won’t be available until December 1st. But since I’ve only just begun collecting vinyl and I don’t even have a record player yet, I suppose that’s quite all right. Don’t bother asking me why I have vinyl without any way to listen to it. In my head it works.

So, I leave you with “Crossroads,” a track off of Battle Studies. If you like music with a strong emphasis on instruments, do yourselves a favor and buy the album when it hits stores next week. Everything sounds best on vinyl & cd. Although digital works well for MP3 players, the quality of sound just isn’t the same.

I feel like a crazy person. Practically ALL.THE.TIME.

I want to curse a few people out for being total assholes.

I hate people who don’t use their signals before they merge into a new lane. Fuck you, jerks.

I can’t backtrack. If I have plans for the day, my route has to be mapped out beforehand in such a manner that I will not repeat any of my commute for any reason.

I wish I knew how to throw a real punch.

I would appreciate if my attitude would stay in check a wee bit more often. Specifically when talking to my mother.

I don’t like my father.

I am so thankful for my friends; they understand me like no other.

I sometimes just cry to cry.

I often wonder what’s out there in the universe. Surely, we are not the only planet with living beings in this great galaxy.

I say that I’m atheist because it cuts the conversation short. In truth, I’m more spiritual than most.

I seem to be obsessed with documentaries. The last one I watched, “God Grew Tired of Us,” made me sob.

I adore the History Channel and A&E.

I can’t not watch Flipping Out. Zoila is my hero.

I really like Bono. Frankly, anyone who comes from a war-torn country is bound to have some political things to say. Just because we’ve become complacent, doesn’t mean everyone in the world has too.

I still don’t understand why the U.S. has so thoroughly implanted itself in the Middle East. I mean, I do. But I don’t.

I am horrible at remembering grammar rules and I’ve forgotten the majority of my times tables. Except 9×9. That’s 81.

I hate details. Unless it specifically deals with me or something I do, I need the cliff notes version.

I have tried to mold my round peg into a square hole on more than one occasion. It always backfires.

I can barely believe that I’ve made amends with my ex-roommate. But I have and I’m damn glad for it.

I loathe the ugly side of politics.

I am collecting vinyl. My favorite, so far, is Creedence Clearwater Revival. Now if I could just get my fingers on some Marley, Hendrix, Beatles and Joplin… and a record player.

I still can’t believe I’m going to meet Nicole this weekend. After two years of blog-fodder. I am absolutely beside myself with excitement! For those in the area – The Irish Channel on H Street @ 8pm on Saturday. Come join the festivities!