Anticipation.

Know what's pretty sweet? The fact that I'm going on two trips within the next 2 months, and needed to pay all of $10 for them. That's two flights, one this weekend to NY to see my beloved almost sister, and one to Nevada in April to see my dear Daddo.

So that's all so exciting, but right up there with jump up and down excitement is the trip I've booked to Myrtle Beach with the lovely ladies who I intend to still be friends with 35 years from now.

I always say, I've always thought, that half the fun of a trip is the anticipation of it. Like when I went to Miami this past October. Although the intended dates of departure needed to be shifted due to circumstances beyond our control, I got to stew with excitement, times two. Unfortunate that it didn't work out as originally planned in August, but none the less, I got to experience what I like to call pre-trip foreplay, twice. So even though I didn't actually vaca, in August, I pre-trip foreplayed for it. Oh, and it was amazing. Kind of along the same lines as mixed drinks + flirting, making out + pawing at each other, pre-trip foreplay is totally my thing. Lest it seem here that the analogy I'm trying to make means that I see actual foreplay as always mandatory, let me just state the fact that I sometimes prefer getting right down to business. Anyway, I'm getting away from the subject at hand.

The point is, I love the pre-trip foreplay. The booking of the trip. The planning process of it all. Looking for the perfect hotel, the right flight, departure times, car rental. What gets me off even more (I'm talking about the trip still), is the excitement that is the planning of the outfits. The shopping pre-trip. Looking for that special bikini, although perhaps not as fun early March in unfortunate lighting illuminating ghostly white skin. But finding the perfect dress. That fits just right and you just feel amazing in. Maybe you'll never wear it again, but you have it for the upcoming trip and you're damn amused as you strut into your apartment trying it all on. The strappy sandals with the new halter and skirt. You rub a little Banana Boat sunscreen on your arm and you close your eyes and picture Jimmy Buffet and you and your girlfriend's sipping a beach cocktail with the waves crashing ahead of you.

And as the time nears closer, you get more and more antsy, fidgety, just waiting for it to come. The trip that is.

You can't control yourself. You count the days, x them off in your work agenda. Get your out of office reply ready, gather the magazines and books you've been wanting to read for forever, and probably get the highlights you've been putting off for a month or so. You book your mani/pedi and it's only one more day, and you can barely sleep. So you don't sleep. You stay up that night before, blasting the stereo in your living room as you and your roommate pack, doing fashion shows of what you should wear the next day to the beach. It's probably late now, and you're probably drinking a celebratory martini, because, well, you can. And it's almost here. Finally, you decide you should at least try to rest, just a little. So you're in your bed and you're awake, thinking, likely giggling out loud imagining the next several days of GLORY.

It's finally here and the excitement is at an all time high. You're heart is racing and you are envisioning the blue ocean, the pretty drinks you will throw back too many of, the smell of a far off hotel room, the balcony that you can only imagine will overlook a serene scene. You arrive at your destination and the pre-trip foreplay has brought you to an amazing climax. And for the next several days you are in heaven. Oh this feels so good.

Man, how I love a vacation.

I want to photograph you with my mind, To feel how I feel now all the time

Gentle. Compassionate. Loving.

The fact that I am 25 years old, and you still slip me money when no one is looking, speaks volumes to the amazing man that you are. When I was 16 it was for movies with friends, nights after football games at Applebees, accessories at teenage stores like Claire's. In college, at 20, it was for laundry, money to put on my card, for the coffee shop and for midnight snacks, sometimes for dollar drafts. Now, at 25, living on my own, making my own money, it's for gas, for a weekend away with friends, for groceries and rent, sometimes a martini or three.

Thoughtful. Tolerant. Affectionate.

When I look at you, inevitably, at some point during our visit, my eyes will fill up. I am completely overtaken with emotion. With love. So much that I cannot hold it in sometimes. You are, the most precious, genuine, kindest man I have ever known.

Patient. Cherished. Adored.

You are an amazing husband. I see the way that you look at her, the way you smile and listen to her, even though sometimes I know you can't always make out exactly what it is she's saying. She speaks softly, and you can't always hear her. I see the way you pull out her chair for her, then tuck her into the table. How you hold the arm of her coat as she slides her arm in, adjusting her just right. The way you pour her coffee and prepare it just so, and how you tell her to take more food on her plate, that she should eat all she wants. The support you give her, the encouragement. The admiration that is so very evident in your blue eyes for her. Your care and concern that she is protected and well taken care of. Your amazing, overflowing love for your precious wife.

Gracious. Happy. Sincere.

You are a wonderful father. I see the way your eyes light up when your three daughters are with you. I hear how you talk to their significant others, accepting them unconditionally. I see how you have tremendous pride in them. I catch you looking at them, when they are not looking at you. And I see the way your face lights up at that moment. The joy and genuine concern you take in their lives. The way you embrace them, not just physically, but emotionally, and in all ways really, unconditionally and always.

Cheerful. Exceptional. Funny.

You are, simply the best grandfather ever. I cannot imagine my childhood, and now my adult life, without you being a part of it. The way you slip me that money. How you tell me that I will always be your girl as you squeeze my hand. How you say to me, that you like my shoes, and comment that I'm a "hot ticket." How you show genuine interest in my life, my friends, my job, and anything that I'm pursuing. How you ask if I will always be your Valentine. The way you make me feel like the most special person ever when I'm with you. The love that I feel when I'm with you and around you, near you and beside you.

I am so lucky.

You are the most giving, kindest, most genuine, humble man that I will ever know. Your love for your family and your friends just fill my heart to the brim. You are amazing. And wonderful. And really any word in the thesaurus for extraordinary and special and sweet and caring and charismatic, it's all you. I cannot even write this without tears filling up, because I have an uncontrollable abundance of love, admiration, and honor for you. And I just can't keep it all in.

I think of you all the time. When I'm with you and when I'm not even, I think of you. I think of you as I have known you throughout my lifetime. I think of you and who you were when I never even knew you. What you were like at my age. How you were as you courted my grandmother. What kind of a son and brother you must have been. What you are doing on a Friday night while I am sipping wine, out to dinner with friends. What you did today. What you're eating for dinner tonight. What you and she are doing, right now. What you're watching on tv, and what book you are currently reading. What you are wearing and how sharp you look. Yes, I said sharp. How you have a way of touching every single person's life who you encounter, and how truly profound that is.

And I don't know if you realize this. How completely and truly wonderful you are. You have to know you are loved, because I have a feeling my words here, would be nodded and echoed by those whose lives you have touched. You are an amazing man. I feel I cannot say it enough. I think that if I repeat that, these words and these thoughts, over and over, how much I love you, how much you mean to me, how purely genuine and special you are, that maybe, just maybe, that will just keep you around here forever.

You need to be around forever. A life without you is completely unimaginable, unfathomable really.




You need to be around forever. And ever. Forever, and ever and ever.

questions of science, science and progress, do not speak as loud as my heart

there were times when i clearly remember thinking that i would never ever be the same without you. and that scared me. i didnt want to be me, without you. there were days that i would walk around in a bit of a fog, because of nights spent kept awake reaching for your body that was no longer there, searching for your lingering smell on my pillow that was now gone. weekends we once spent together, were now filled with coffee shops, girlfriends, cocktails, and many tears. the journal that i started when i first felt the pangs of uncertainty about us, was being scribbled in on a daily basis now. to read it now would show a script of a very tumultuous time.

months went by and things did seem to get a little better. then a slip up. a picture would fall from the pile on my nightstand. looking through email archives id find the lyrics to love songs you used to send me. and for the next several days, it was rough. tears again, and fears. fear that, shit, no way, really? again? im going backwards? and i thought i was doing so good. ive been here before but it was months ago. why am i back here? this pattern would happen. things would be okay, then another damn slip up. and then the tears. and fears. and questioning.

then more time would go by. and weeks turned into months with no real missing you pangs. well not that brought full on tears anymore at least. i still missed you. id be kidding you if i said it was a quick and easy thing, to get over you. over us. it wasnt. it still isnt.

i dont think about you too much anymore. and when i do, at first its your smell and your arms that i miss, or your hands. then its your yelling and anger that i dont miss, and your meanness.

and i realize how far i have come.

i used to not be able to imagine me, without you. i used to not want to be me, without you. now, almost a year later, i cant imagine me with you. i cant imagine someone like me, who i have become, who i have changed into, being with someone like you.

and that's progress.

To Text or Not to Text, what the hell?

The fact that we even refer to it as a slang already, is pretty unfortunate.

A "text" or "TM"... "I'll text you" or, "Didn't you get my text?"

More unfortunate is the fact that people are seriously using this form of communication to replace a phone call nowadays. Okay, there are certain situations for which I think a text is appropriate. Let's deal with these first.

When a "text" is okay:

-I'm on my way home. We're all out of milk. Did my roommate get it or should I stop?
Appropriate text: "Do we need milk?"

-You're on a date. Or we can't talk, but you have info. We obviously can't have an update over the phone that will really cover much, and clearly a text won't say much either, but we can get the point across. I wonder how your date or your night is going.
Appropriate text: "It's going well. 7/10. Good enough to miss Grey's for."

-I miss you. Yes, we just talked on the phone ten minutes ago. But your voice sounded so sweet, and I miss you in my bed. And I want you to know this.
Appropriate text: "I miss you in my bed."

-A funny one liner needs to be relayed. It doesn't require a whole phone call. In fact, it will be funnier if it's in a text which can be saved and referred to for a laugh at a later date.
Appropriate text: "I'm sitting next to a guy wearing tapered leg jeans and socks with sandals."

-American Idol is on and you want to vote for your favorite male vocalist.
Appropriate text: "

-Lastly, I would put anything in this category that is something short, to the point, quick, and that doesn't need a phone call for. If you know someone isn't near email, or can't talk on the phone, but have something quick to say. A nice comment, an "I miss you," a "hello friend," a compliment.
These are acceptable.


When a "text" is not okay:

-I'm at the bar. You're cute and you give me your number. First of all, ask for my number buddy, and call me. But giving me your number and suggesting I text you? Not mature.
Inappropriate text: "Have a good night. Here is my number. Text me if you want."
That's a turnoff. And inappropriate. And a zillion other things that do not equal a date on the horizon.

-Making plans over texts. I'm talking big plans. It's a stretch if it's something small even, but fine. Switching a time for meeting up for drinks, saying you're running late and asking if that's okay. All fine.
Inappropriate text: "Do you have plans Saturday night?"
Wrong. Don't make date plans with me over a text. And I'm really expected to engage in this back and forthness? I will probably throw my phone. This is not how to woo a girl. Pick up the phone and call me. Show some decency and take the time and effort to actually engage in a conversation. If you call me you appear interested; if you text me you appear lazy. Recognize the difference.

-Texting, binging back and forth with God knows who, constantly.
There's really no further explanation here. If I'm out to dinner with a girlfriend, I will not be texting someone else all night. If we're on a date, I don't expect you to be texting someone else all night. A little appropriate text, fine, two at the most, explained above, can slide. More than that is getting into rude territory. You appear uninterested in the one you're with, and that's also unattractive.

-You need to say something to someone. It's important. It's news. Or maybe it's not important but you want to keep in touch. You have things to say; you want to catch up.
Inappropriate text: "Hey, how are you? I hope your week is going well. Want to do something Sunday? Did I leave my sneakers at your apartment? Hope your week is going well. I have been so busy with work and everything else."
This is too much. Too long, too much info for one text. In fact, it will probably be rejected because it's too long. Or separated into two texts, and who wants to get two, choppy texts? Email me with this. Or call me. Or stop by my place and tell me. Remember, I'm getting charged for your text. Thank you very much.

I'm not totally opposed to texting. I think, like anything else, there is a time and place. There are clearly some very appropriate situations where it's called for. Probably many, many more instances where it is not. I will admit, I have probably been in the inappropriate category before. I have learned my lesson. Maybe it sounds picky, but it's the facts.

I firmly vow, here and now, to follow these above outlined rules from here on out.

This is my list. Do you have some additions?

What do you do for fun?

Well, I alluded to my slight interest in it, and last night was the night.

Speed dating.

That's right. I did it. With one of my dearest friends, my red headed beauty. We got to the event, donned our name tags with our names and "number" and ordered our first rum and diet. Scoping the room, it looked as though it could be promising. Maybe. Who knows, but we were up for whatever the night had to bring, and we were keeping an open mind.

I had six dates. Each person is "supposed" to have eight, but three guys, apparently ducked out early, leaving each round with three ladies, speed-dateless. Leaving me, sipping another drink, chatting with the bartender, for two speed dates worth, sixteen minutes. He was nice, and something about him kind of intrigued me, from the get go. Like you can imagine though, a bartender at an event like this... well, it seemed like lots of the girls there were into him, and he seemed pretty into himself.

The six men I did meet were interesting. All, in their own ways. I guess, maybe, I'll check "second date" for one. After a while, repeating what I do for work, what I like to do for fun, etc., got a little old. However, I would rate the night a... 6/10. I had a good time, it was a fun, different, unique way to meet new people. I just didn't leave feeling all too enthusiastic about anyone in particular. Hmm. Maybe I just have very high expectations. I don't know.

I have the bartender's number. He wants me to text him. Yes, he actually suggested that I text him. That's a whole other subject which I clearly need to address soon. Men lately and their damn texting. What the hell is that all about? Ask for a girl's number and freaking call her, damnit.

So there you have it. All in all, a fun night. Would I do it again? Sure. In no real rush though. It was amusing and interesting, but nothing too spectacular. My red headed beauty did meet two potential second dates though, lucky her.

these thoughts are not foolish

In this one you are contemplating something. You have to be, right? Your eyes are telling a story here. I just don't know what the theme is, exactly. I can't pinpoint it. I am sure that you are happy though; I can sense that. You look very comfortable, and content. Your body language is saying that you are at ease. You are sitting beside your best friend. Your eyes in this picture... you look like you've got a story to tell. What is it?

I wish I was there when this picture was taken. What were you doing at the time it was taken, or right before? You aren't flashing a full smile, but you look so happy. And pretty. Do you know that you have that capability? To just sit there, and maybe without noticing that a picture is being taken of you, or without a big grin even, you look remarkably beautiful, just being there?

Your eyes tell a story and I wonder what it is. I can sense all that I have mentioned, but I have so many questions, still. Where was this taken? Who took it? I think that I own that same exact jacket, another similarity we share among a thousand others. Where did you get it? How did you feel when that picture was taken?

You mailed this picture to me. In the real mail, with a letter you had handwritten me. Since then, I've seen many other pictures of you. It is this picture though, my friend, that sticks out in my mind. When I think of you, this is the image that comes to my mind. It is the first picture I ever saw of you. It's what I "picture," when I get a letter from you in the mail, an email, a text message, or a phone call.

There's a saying, "a picture is worth a thousand words." Well this picture is no exception. Seeing this picture, after corresponding with you for several months, gave me such a good feeling inside. I can't even really describe it in the words that would be able to capture the emotion that I feel when I look at it. When I first saw that picture, I could tell that you were kind, and warm. Happy and intelligent. Fashion savvy and confident. Humorous and easygoing. Content and at ease. You seemed, back then, like someone I would be friends with, in real life. We started out as penpals, but I honestly believe we have developed a friendship that will last a lifetime. Although we have never met in real life, I wait in eager anticipation for that day. We will have the best time together. I just know this. I can tell, based on that one picture of you. We were destined to be friends.

I'm a sucker for...

Stolen from my friend Brooke, who stole it from Ari (who I was going to steal it from anyway).

I'm a sucker for...

-My mom's voice, and her hugs.
-Falling asleep in someone's arms. Cuddling. Maybe in bed, on a rainy afternoon. Maybe on a summer afternoon, in the middle of the park, reading a book together, on a blanket.
-A man in a button down, blue shirt. With a nice pair of shoes, and appropriate socks. An old spice scent or otherwise yummy/clean smell. This is a turn on.
-Kissing the top of a baby's head.
-Making out.
-Maine.
-Having my hair played with, or brushed.
-The ache after a good workout.
-Unhealthy pub food. Beer battered mozzarella sticks. Nachos. Spinach and artichoke dip. Jalapeno poppers. This, on a chilly day, tucked into a corner booth in a towny bar. With pitchers of beer and good friends.
-Strappy slingbacks. Sandals. Flip flops. Knee high boots.
-Shoes in general.
-The smell of fresh cut grass.
-A crisp, professional outfit with a spec of sass. An understated lacy cami under a cardigan, or a blazer. A crisp shirt, a skirt, and knee high boots. A bold color mixed in with black. A tiny touch of bling.
-Autumn.
-Banana Boat sunscreen, that coconut smell mmmmmm.
-That spot on a boy. In that under chin/neck/collar bone area. The nook. The spot.
-My morning coffee at Dunkin Donuts, and the employees there. They barely speak a sentence of English but they are the friendliest people in the world, and they are genuine. They make my morning, every morning.
-Taking pictures. Black and white, for certain ones.
-Candles. Yummy ones, from Yankee Candle, or Bath and Body Works even. And aromatherapy ones.
-Nice lighting.
-Spinach, feta, and egg white omelets.
-Thongs from Victoria's Secret. And those IPEX bras, you know the ones. Way too expensive, but so good for the girls.
-Doritos, really, either kind. I seldom eat them, but when I do, I can rip through a bag like none other.
-Full house re-runs.
-Any, and all accessories.
-Chick flicks. Lifetime movies.
-And ohmygod, Jason Lewis.
-My alone time in the car, 45 minutes to and from work each day.
-Moisturizing.
-Willard Scott and his Smucker's birthdays.
-Handwritten letters and cards.
-Pumpkin seeds. Pirates booty.
-Sex and the City, obviously.
-Lip gloss. I will never have enough.
-A man with a good head of hair. That I can touch and play with. With not too much product, at all, gross.
-Unexpected phone calls, or texts.
-The ocean.
-A big glass of chocolate milk.
-Joshua Radin.
-My best friends, their smiles, and laughter.


I could go on forever, and ever. Are you a sucker for anything?

The Sounds of Silence

"I got grossed out, danced some more, some guy poked me with his boner for an entire song, got grossed out, gave a fake number to some guy who asked me, his name was Boston, left this bar around 7 in the morning."

This is why I love this girl. B may be oceans away, six hours apart, and while she's sitting in a cafe for lunch eating fruit, and cheese, and a baguette, I'm hitting snooze and coming up with an excuse to skip the gym. But this, emails that contain contents such as the sample above, are why I know that no matter how far apart, how long I don't see this girl, how many weeks we go without talking, that she is one of my very best friends, and will be, forever.

mail (and male) news

This week has been busy. I like having plans, and being busy, but it seems like lately I haven't had any after work time to do much relaxing. That's usually okay, because I enjoy being busy and everything, having things to do. This week I was wishing for some extra time that I just didn't have. Between the new class I'm taking, dinner plans with friends, running around to the post office, appointments and meetings, I've gotten myself a cold. So, I plan to do a Friday night thing like e.b. has, this evening. It's what I need. I have Grey's to catch up on and Stephanie Klein is going to be on 20/20 and I missed her the first time. Sweet.

A girlfriend and I have signed up for a speed dating event. And by signed up, I mean we are on some waiting list, pending the confirmation of at least eight men and eight women. It's at a bar in Faneuil Hall, and it looks like it will be an interesting time... to say the least. If it all works out, it's in a couple weeks on a Wednesday night. I'm sure that will be good blogging material.

And through that little endeavor, we were encouraged to sign up for some dating site associated with the event (which I have since canceled my membership to). It was something random and seemed like it would at least be amusing. Through the several 40+ men who have emailed me through the site, stating that "I know I'm out of ur age range but 'ur hott,' just thought I'd tell ya," (who talks like that?) I have found one potential interest. (Is that the lingo I'd use? Interest?) Anyway, I'll call him Gym Guy, because he actually teaches phys ed to first through eighth graders (how cute, right?), and does some personal training on the side. We've exchanged a few emails back and forth and he seems friendly, and like someone I'd want to get to know better. So, we're in the talks of setting up a rendezvous soon. Other than that, I'm done with the website as I just wasn't finding anyone really interesting.

So there's Gym Guy, and one other new friend on the scene. I met him through one of my best friends. He's The Co-Worker. I met him last week for the first time, after several apple martinis, on an empty stomach. Right. Great first impression. So we made plans for a second meeting, which was last night. He seems very nice, but I don't know if that might end up taking more of a friend turn? I'd be interested, but I couldn't read much more than just a friend vibe from him. And that would be totally okay if that's all it was. I guess it's too early to really know much more. I guess we'll just see what happens.

That's about it here. I'm so ready to be home, out of my heels, in my slippers, on the couch, just vegging. It's what I need.
Happy Friday.

I got lost in the sounds I hear in my mind

It's been almost a year since you and him broke up. Since the last straw, the final end. You made that end decision quickly, at least that's what it seemed like. You came home that day, walked in and sat on the couch, with tears coming down your face. You didn't need to say the words, I just knew. You told me that you couldn't do it anymore. You were crying, and I put my arms around you, and you put your head on my shoulder. I didn't know what to say. I knew, with my whole heart that you had made the right decision, but I could see the pain that you felt. I could feel it on you, on me while I held you. I just wanted to take all of that pain away, make it be all over. I couldn't do it.

You tried to smile and said that you thought you had made the right decision. You talked about how hard it was, to tell him that it was over. You had been through so much in just these past several months. You said it felt like a lifetime.

A few months later, you would tell me how you still thought of him. How it was the hardest decision you ever had to make, to leave him. That you left him, still in love. You would tell me how you still thought of him, all of the time. Still felt him there with you in the middle of the night. Craved his touch, his smell. How things didn't seem to be getting any better. Not at all. You asked me if I thought you would ever be able to fully get over him. I told you that it would take some time, that I was always there for you. You apologized for feeling like a downer. For still talking about him, over beers and soft lighting, months later. You said you were embarrassed because you should be over him by now. But that you didn't know how to do it.

I remember that afternoon, in Barnes and Noble, when you told me you thought the guy drinking his coffee in the corner was attractive. And I felt so happy for you. You said it was the first time you felt something, for someone else. You actually got excited about this guy. When he asked for your number, you looked so pretty, graciously giving it to him, sweeping your long hair behind you ear.

At times like these, it began to seem like you were doing better. I told you this, how much happier you seemed now. After several martinis one night, we were in the kitchen, making scrambled eggs. Your eyes filled up. You confessed that you were trying with all of your heart to put up the strength that we all saw. You said how much you still missed him, how hard it still continued to be. You said your heart still ached.

I wanted so badly to make everything all better for you. I could feel your pain again, that night, and I remember how frustrated I was with myself because I didn't know how to make it all better for you. You hurting, it was so awful for me to see you go through. You didn't deserve it.

And here we are; it's been several months since the eggs and tears. It's been almost a year since the end and the couch that afternoon you came home and told me. You haven't dated much since then. You seem happier now. I check in now and then with you, to see how you're doing, about him. You say you don't think of him much anymore. But that you are getting nervous for the upcoming holiday, and the one after that. Most of us hope that part of your life is way in the past by now, that it doesn't cross your mind anymore. Because you seem interested in other people, other things. You don't mention anymore how that song reminds you of him, how your bed seems so big, how you miss his presence, and his hands. You always told me how you missed his hands.

What you went through was really shitty. But you have grown so much. You are a stronger person from what you went through. I know that you don't always see it. You brush it off. It's what you do. But I know you. And I know how much he meant to you. And it's okay to still think about him. It's okay to dream about him, and wonder. It's normal, and it's okay. He was your first true love.

It doesn't go away that easily.

random Friday musings

-Today I realized, that I can only eat an apple holding it so that my thumb is at the bottom and my other fingers are at the stem. It's like this, for either hand. Try it, you'll see what I mean. Any other way feels oddly, unbearably uncomfortable.

-This season is really, really no good for my skin. No matter how much lotion I keep applying to my face, it's still dry.

-The Gap has some really cheap perfume, body splash, and lotion on clearance- the older scents like "Grass" and "Om." I bought the Om a few weeks ago and it's one of my new staples.

-Speaking of staples/staplers, I rarely ever use one. At work, I'm more apt to go for a paperclip or a folder.

-I miss cuddling with someone. And that spot. That little spot on a man's neck between their chin and collar bone. I love that there. I think Carrie Bradshaw called it the "nook" on Aiden. I actually remember feeling cool at the time that Carrie Bradshaw liked that spot too. I miss going there, and cuddling.

-I love milk so much that I sometimes wake up thinking of it. This morning I made myself a tall glass of chocolate milk before getting ready.

-I'm all out of contacts. I'm supposed to wear mine for a month, and obviously everyone goes past the month mark. I think I'm on month three. And my right contact has a little tear. And I'm still wearing it. It doesn't bother me... yet, but I know it will, soon. I need to order new ones, but I've been avoiding it, because I just don't want to spend the money. I have glasses, and I guess I could bust them out if need be.

-I really wish I was going home to a kitten sleeping on my bed tonight.

-I think that Thursday nights are one of my most favorite times. Grey's Anatomy, I know that Friday is coming, one more work day, and the weekend.

-I'm very critical of myself. I hardly am satisfied with a picture taken of me.

-I look forward to happy hour today.

Happy Friday blog buddies.

but you, you're the catalyst

he wrote back. to that email that i wrote last week. maybe two days later, he emailed back. he's sorry, and we're best friends and i've always been there for him. and he'll always be there for me, as a best friend. that he realizes he hasn't done a good job at that role lately, but he'll always be there, as a best friend.

he made that part pretty clear. the friend thing. i got it. repeated twice, i got the point. i wasn't looking for a long lengthy response from him. i just wanted him to hear me. i think he did. i did needed to be reminded, i was doing this for me, to finally, tell him how i felt. this was about me. i needed to stop pretending like things didn't bother me, when they did. that things didn't upset me, that left me bawling into my teddy bear's paw. that i didn't need a quick bathroom therapy session, in the middle of a party.

i think i got that point across to him. in not so many words, it was clear. i had been sending him mixed messages and i took ownership for that. he knows that i wish i'd known things sooner. he knows now that i am upset with the way it went down, but it is what it is, and i view this as my catalyst to begin moving on.

which is what i'm doing. i feel better now at least knowing that he knows how i feel. how it felt, to not hear it from him. how it feels to know that things are different. he knows that i was, that i am, upset, but that what's done is done. he knows that i think everything happens for a reason. and that i don't hate him. and that now i can begin moving on. it's time to do that. it has been coming for a while.

and i guess that's my mini update, in case you were dying to know.

walking on walking on broken glass

Just the week before, my best friend Drew had gone up on there to hang the weekly events calendar. And Drew wasn't scrawny. He was built; he had a swimmer's body, in very good shape, muscular. He was on the taller side, definitely an athletic build. And no one thought twice about him getting up on the glass display case. I guess it was actually viewed more as a table, for the love of God, I don't know why, but it was. And it was a weekly occurrence. Whoever was on desk duty the day it needed to be changed, would hop up on the glass case, and change the weekly calendar. It was never questioned. Never thought it might not be a good idea.

Until it wasn't. A good idea. Writing this right now, is giving me the feeling. My heart is pounding faster, I'm that girl who chomps her gum neurotically that I hate, and my palms are sweating. Aaron, you owe me one, big time.

It wasn't a big deal. I finished coloring in the smiling, sunglassed sun, scribbled in "open swim" for Friday afternoon, and proceeded to the case to hang up the events calendar. The case, was about waist high, maybe three or four feet long, and housed random swimming paraphernalia- goggles, bathing caps, water bottles, etc. I took off my flip flops, and quickly hopped up on the case. I'm on top of the glass case, kneeling. I had placed the poster sized calendar on the counter next to me, so I had to reach over for it. I shifted my weight, from both knees, to more on my left. I think I just had my left hand on top of the glass, supporting my left side at this point. And all of a sudden, it shattered. I crashed. Through the whole display case.

Glass.Everywhere.
And blood. All over.

Holy shit. You can imagine the noise this must have made. I honestly don't remember much of this after the falling part. I remember people rushing into the outdoor-like lobby. You can see the pool from the desk in the lobby, and the display case is/was in the corner. So people heard it, and they rushed in. It didn't even hurt. The cut was so deep, (stop reading now if you're skeeved out about blood and things of the like- I don't even know how I'm writing this) you could see the bone. Eww, the bone. At least that's what I've been told. I don't even remember what it looked like at the time. I just remember glass, and blood, everywhere.

I guess I thought it wasn't as bad as it was, because I started to get up, thinking it was just a minor cut. I was wrong. The ambulance showed up, and I remember that one person could ride in the back with me. I was 17 at the time, I think, and I had a good friend who was 16, also a lifeguard there. I wanted her to come with me, but my boss ended up insisting upon it. The boss that was always the biggest bitch and the last person there that day that I wanted in the back with me. And Drew wasn't even there. I wanted him there to hold my hand and tell me it would be okay.

I barely remember the ride there, but I remember getting to the hospital, and waiting. My mother was in a meeting and was unreachable, in Boston for the day. My father was at work, but luckily they got a hold of him. He called my mom, who was taken out of this big conference she was at, and they both came to the hospital. The rest is a little foggy. I had to get reconstructive surgery, because the cut was that bad. It was my muscle and everything- and it wasn't just stitchable. It needed full on surgery to reconstruct... my leg. Eww. To this day, glass really freaks me out. Glass and blood.
And poor Drew. He came into work later in the day for his shift, to find the swim club closed for business. And it was him who had to clean up the the glass, the bloody mess, my blood, that was now in the spot that once was the display cases home.

Wicked sucks. Gross. I have a big scar on my knee, and a small one on my left pinky. I guess it's a "cool" story, but not one I like to talk about too much, mainly because it just skeeves me out. But it is random, and kind of a "no way!" type of thing to bust out if the conversation is dull at a dinner party. Maybe I should have told Mr. Dinner Date that one.

Lesson learned: DO NOT kneel on glass display cases. Not safe.

blind dinner date

Tonight I'm going on a date. I haven't been on a real, date, date since... well, since maybe May? and it's not even a real, date, date. It's dinner. And it's with two other couples. And it's kind of a blind dinner, of sorts. I met up with an old friend a couple weeks ago for coffee, and just happen to mention that maybe I'm ready to start dating. and to keep any single men in mind. two days later, she called me about Mr. Dinner Date. He is her boyfriend's college roommate. so after a few emails were exchanged back and forth between said friend and I, I found out that Mr. Dinner Date:
1- Is very, very nice
2- He knows how to "treat a girl"
3- He went to an engineering school, he IS an engineer, which means, he's likely intelligent
4- He's very quiet
5- He's "not drop dead gorgeous"
6- He likes to cook

Because I haven't been on a date, date, in way too long, I figure I need to be open minded. I have, absolutely not a thing to lose here. The only thing that has be a spec leery is #4. I just haven't dated a real quiet guy before. Although, she says I'm the type that will be able to open him up. Really? We exchanged pictures. And he's not bad looking. He looks.... well, nice. And plain. And somewhat attractive, and if he's funny (which I hope to God he is, that's a big, big turn on), then I know I'll be that much more attracted to him.

So, it's dinner for 6 of us, at um 6pm, at her house. I'm meeting him there; I'm bringing the wine. And I may just have a glass or two to get ready for this before I go.

Afterall, it's been a while.

five things you don't know already

I was tagged by Joy for this one.

Post five things about yourself that you have never posted about before.

1. I have a graduate degree in Counseling. A specific type. And I got it by doing a five year program in school, where I took graduate courses my senior year of college, and had one additional year, and viola!- I had my degree with only one additional year of school. Not a bad deal, eh?

2. I once fell through a glass display case when I was working as a lifeguard in 1998. I have a big scar on my knee as a result. I hate this story, totally gives me the creeps.

3. I LOVE elderly people. I have a Certificate in Gerontolgy. I think old people are amazing- even cranky ones. I just love them.

4. I'm a little OCD about checking certain things. ie: my hair straightener to make sure it's off, that I have the right lip gloss in my purse, directions, over and over to make sure I've got them right.

5. I once spent a week in a convent. I know, shocking and really, pretty unbelievable. I was on a week long volunteer/mission type program in college. Two people needed to stay in the convent as our living quarters were slim pickings. My friend and I volunteered and it was one of the most memorable experiences ever. I had a blast.

Brooke and Copasetic Fish you're it!

enough

That little situation, that I felt "ready" to write about? Well it hasn't really gotten better, or resolved one way or the other. The whole ball that dropped was that I found out that he and his girlfriend are now living together. The catch is, I still, have not, heard this news from him. I've heard it from everyone but him. His sister, his grandparents, his best friends, his mom. I'm not kidding. It's everyone, but it's not him. And that's what gets me the most. That given the relationship/non-relationship we had, it would make sense to me, well, that he tell me. And okay, he's "busy" and he "just got a new car" and he's "helping her move in" and he "hasn't thought about telling me"... but come on? You cannot tell me that he can't be assuming that I haven't heard, by now. It's been, almost three weeks since I heard the news, not from him. Oh, I already mentioned that.

So I figured, my options were simple. Either, keep on keeping on, like this. Being frustrated, kind of angry, hurt, and upset, and say nothing about it to him, while I wait. OR, I could say something. It's that simple. I knew it would have to be over email, because I couldn't do the phone call thing right now, too much. I'm one who tends to believe that there is no use in complaining about something that you are unhappy with, if you aren't making any steps to change the circumstances. So, I think I have had my allowed sad time. Then it was the frustrated period and the kind of ticked off stage. And now, it's the had it stage. So I had to do something. I couldn't complain about something I wasn't going to do anything about, any longer.

And so I emailed him. After lots of thought, back and forths of should I? and is it worth it? I decided I have to, and yes. I couldn't just continue to wait and wait, and say nothing about this, anymore. My intention was to try and be direct and to the point. Not overly friendly, but not bitchy either. Blunt and clear. Finally letting him know that this news is hurtful, yet none the less, if it's what brings him happiness, then for that I am happy.

I guess now it's more of the waiting game. When he'll read it and what he'll say. At least I finally got it out there though. Sucks it didn't come from him to begin with and I needed to drag it out of him. But really, enough is enough.

Is enough.

Gabes

My ipod? Was missing today. Yeah, shit. And I've lost my wallet before, and had to do all that retracing my steps bit, racking my brain for what I did, where I could have put it down, dropped it, or forgotten it. I am unfortunately, all too familiar with that story. It happens to me, with lots of things.... like, my camera's battery charger. I swear, I lose that thing after every time I charge it back up. Or it's my phone charger when I'm about to go away for a weekend. A disk with something important on it, like my updated resume that I need to print. It's my pill, or my contact case. Things I bring with me on overnight excursions, and usually neurotically check to make sure are all packed back up, safe and sound, but then? I can't find them. You would think, that by now, I'd have a "safe place" for all these things, right? No, wrong. Because no place can really be safe, when you consider everywhere safe. My problem is, I have too many special safe spots. I'm constantly putting things neatly into corners of my room, bottom desk drawers, under my bed. So when I lose something, I look around, everywhere, and I can't remember which safe place x or y is this time. And when I lose something like this, I become grouchy and irritable. I frustrate easily, I can be bitchy. I'm skrinkering around everywhere, looking here and there and who the f knows where, and I'm not coming up with what I need. I'm looking in places that should never have been deemed safe to begin with: the victorias secret bag at the end of my bed, my backpack that I haven't used in 6 months. I become a nut when I can't find something that I want, or need.

Right, so today, when I realized it was my beloved ipod as the item of the day, I was really, really going wild. My sweet little ipod. Gabes. (I got this ipod over a year ago. My friend told me I could get it engraved with my name, so I flip it over, and oops- already had a name. Gabes. My father, who bought it for me as a gift, hadn't been told by ebay that my ipod had apparently been previously owned. By Gabes.) I use my Gabes allthetime. At the gym in the morning, in my room getting ready for work, sometimes in my car, in the office- all day long, to fall asleep, and wake up to. I need my Gaves. So finding out, when I got to work today that Gabes wasn't with me? Wicked sucked. I was scared. Freaking. I just could not focus. My only source of music then, was random pickings of cds from the 90's disc gear I keep in my office. We're talking... Natalie Merchant, Craig David , the Cranberries. Clearly, you see the problem here.

Until, I found out, thanks to T who checked for me when she got home, that Gabes was happily sitting on my bed, just waiting my arrival. And this is how it goes. These things, I lose them, time and time again, and always, I swear, they will turn up right in front of my freakin nose. Isn't that always the way?

I'm going to light a candle, get a good book, and ask Gabes for some background Joshua Radin.

the one I think I'm ready to write

***I have a few reservations about posting this. But I think it's time. And, after all the encouragement I got to my other day's acting up nerves, I say- fuck it, I'm ready for this.***

Even before I found out the news last week, I knew I needed to begin to create some distance. I didn't really want to do it, not talk as much, email as much, create that change in our relationship. But this has been going on for years. Years. This friendship, that we both know, is more than just "a friendship." There's always been a reason. You were involved with someone else, I was dating someone, I was getting over a bad relationship, you were getting over your serious thing with her. You live across the country. We see each other maybe five times a year. Always something, something that kept us apart. That never gave us the real opportunity to give the us that we had in mind a try. At least not a try beyond the constant time we'd spend together when we were both in the same city. And it was that time that we spent together, that I've been hanging on to, for years. Years.

Throughout the years, I've had other relationships, we both have. I have always put you on a pedestal. It felt good having you there. Comparing every single guy I meet, to you. No one really measured up. I have had this idealistic picture of you, or us, in my mind. For years. It wasn't the relationship that you and I once had or anything, that I was comparing to. We never have had a real anything other than this thing. It has been the idea in my head. Of what you could be to me, what we could be to each other, what we could be together, . But I never really knew. And I have based years, on the idea of what could be, an unknown potential.

And I know, as well as you, our friends, and our families, that it isn't just me that's doing this based on nothing. It's your way with me. It's our way together. The way you also compare other girls to me. The way we are when we're together, how carefree it is, how much fun we have, the chemistry we share. I began to wonder though, is what I've been hanging on to, more the idea of what could be, based actually on nothing really concrete, rather than any hard core evidence? Who's to say we would even be a right thing together? I have thought we could be good together, I have hoped we could be good together. I've prayed it and cried for it. Literally dreamt of it, wrote about it, therapied about it. But neither of us never really know. The what if thing? It can be fun, but after a while? It's no longer a game.

That was all okay, for so long, it was just what worked. What came naturally for the two of us. I look back now, and I realize, we were in a non-relationship relationship. I don't even know what we were. But it was all okay. It was fine, it worked. Until it wasn't. Until it didn't anymore. It doesn't now.

You are with someone new. Your first serious relationship. And I knew this, over the past couple of months. I knew because you did the comparison thing again. I felt sad because I felt I was getting mixed messages, but I was sending them too. I wasn't okay with hearing all about it. It wasn't easy to just go along and seem all okay with things. I was never completely okay with it, but what was my other choice? I think you've known all along how I feel about you. I have never been ambiguous about that. Everyone knew. It's out there. It just is. It radiates when we're together. It hasn't gone unnoticed. It's impossible.

So things have changed. Even before I found out the seriousness of you and her relationship, I knew I needed to make a shift. Some distance. Less refreshing my inbox for an email, less time spent thinking about a phone call here and very seldom there. More time focusing on me, and moving on. Because the way it is, the way it had been, for so many reasons it felt so very right. But it has had a hold of me for so long, I didn't think I would know myself without it. I think I was scared to actually make the break from it.

The change, the shift in our relationship, well it was something I was going to do no matter what. The time came, that I just needed to do it. I felt so torn, sad to do it, but happy about the possibility of letting the burden go a little. Finding out that you and her are even more serious than you had let on, hearing that from other people and not yet from you, well that was the push I needed. As hard as it was, and as upset and devastated that I was about it all, it was what needed to happen. Unfortunately it's a forced distance, but it's there none the less, and it's needed to happen.

I will never regret the strong hold this has all had on me. I think you are a wonderful, extraordinary person with amazing qualities, and I know that you will make someone very happy. I want you to be happy. You mean so much to me. For now, I need to make myself happy. Happy with myself. It's time. Things change, relationships change, people move on, they move forward, and sometimes backwards, and they grow. I will never for a minute, regret any of this, of all of that, of our time and our non-relationship relationship or whatever it had been. It, you, will always hold a special place in my heart. The shift now will be interesting to see pan out. How we will go from what we were to something different. We've always been us as we know, as our friends and family know. I'm not saying I'm not a little nervous. But it feels... well, it feels different than I thought it would. I feel okay. I'm more okay than I thought I'd be. I know that things change, and that change isn't a bad thing. And for us, it was time. I'm ready, for the love of sweet baby J, I'm ready.

admiration

After writing yesterday's post, at such an appropriate time, I came across Stephanie Klein's most recent blog. I have been reading her blog for months now. Once I found her blog, I found her book. It's one of my favorites. I admire Stephanie for her candor and her honesty. For strong attitude, for her strength, her humor, her humility. For not being afraid to say "fuck it," and tell it like it is. She's honest and she's real. She's an inspiration for me, and her words today really found me at the right time.

time and practice

Clearly, my last couple of posts haven't been all too upbeat. They've been downright... downers. Last week, I was wallowing in the throws of it all, feeling bad about the current situation I was in, what had happened, how it had all went down, and I just didn't have anything all too good, or positive to write about.

It's times when I write about that stuff that I wonder, how much anonymity should I have on here? I could have very well not been so vague about what was going on. Could have said what happened, why I was upset. On this blog, I have never really said my first name, although others have, in reply to some of my posts. I haven't said where I live, where I grew up, anything much about the siblings I don't have, or the job I'm not too thrilled with. There hasn't been anything really specific so that if you were a semi acquaintance, you'd think this was me. And sometimes I wonder, whether I should talk more about that stuff, more of the meat, less of the fluff. I wonder really, what would be the big deal if people did recognize me from here? There's nothing I'm really hiding. But sometimes, I think, I wouldn't want T to see THIS POST, or C to see THIS. But why? What's the big deal? So some of this is probably news to them, but what's the biggie? And aren't I just being honest, and isn't honesty the best thing? Hmm... I wonder. How much is too much? How much isn't really enough? (When) will people, will I, become bored with my writing, and look at it more as just observations and sometimes random thoughts of a regular girl, some laughs and some tears, but feel that all this, is lacking in depth?

Maybe it's still just a lot of the newness of it. Still getting my feet wet with all if this. I started this blog as a way to work on my writing. To have a log to look back on, to see where I've been, how far I've come, and what I've learned along the way. To meet new people. To learn about myself. So really, (and I know this, I just need to be reminded of it), I know that I owe no one an explanation, no justification for this or that. That this thing, it is what it is. I'd say it's a pretty accurate reflection of what's going on for me at the time, my mood and emotions, my feelings and observations. Perhaps it's all more me, just needing to be more confident, with all of this.
And in time, I hope I get there. The more practice, the better I will feel about it all, I suppose.

-Meg