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

i don't know

My body is aching today. I usually say I like this kind of ache, because I know it's the good kind, where I worked it hard at the gym and therefore, good results should come of this. But today, I feel pissed off that my body is sore. My heart is aching, and I don't want any additional soreness, on top of that. I'm whining, complaining, and not thinking about any positives. That's not really like me, and then that makes me feel bad. It's Friday, and I've been looking forward to the end of the week, well, all week. I get a long weekend and I've been craving that for the past five days. But I have a feeling of indifferance tooday. I don't know what I want. I'm a little hungry, but I don't want anything in the cabinets. I am tired but I can't sleep. I think I want to listen to music, but then I end up turning it down low in the car, because it's too much noise. I go back and forth between sad songs, hard, angry songs, rock, and rap. I don't want any of it. I want to talk on the phone to my friends, but I end up starting to call and then hanging up. I think I want a glass of orange juice, but I take a sip and dump the rest. I don't like to complain, and be all woe is me. Things could be worse. I usually have the ability to look at the glass as half full, on the bright side of things. But I don't even want to do that right now. I wish I was back in bed.

Ouch

Once I was a good twenty minutes into it, I couldn't distinguish what it was that I was crying about. I mean, I knew what I was upset about, but the tears only really started, after I had so carelessly slammed the top of my head on my dresser as I was putting some clothes away.

Funny how all it takes is something really little to get you going, when you know a good meltdown is on it's way.

It's my mom's voice too. Of course it's also seeing her in person, coming at me to wrap her arms around me when she knows I'm upset, but it's even just her voice. Hearing her voice on the phone, after a bad day, if I've been holding it all inside, that will do it. I will inevitably, lose it. And I'll pretend it's not happening. That the water is boiling, that I have another call, that I just have a tickle in my throat, no I'm not crying, I'm fine. I won't let her hear the actual quiver in my voice. It's not that I'm ashamed of it, or as if I won't tell her when we talk today. It's just that the more I hear her voice, the harder it will get for me to hold back the tears that are on their way. Hard to keep it under wraps.

Not that I have to keep it under wraps. But I was trying to. At least for an hour or two. I held it back when I found out, when S told me. Because then, that wasn't the time or place. I was in the car, it was raining, I needed to focus. No crying. I came home, tried to just do my thing, to avoid thinking about it. I couldn't help it; I did think about it, a lot. At that point though, I didn't feel like crying; I had no tears ready. I was numb. I was feeling hurt, angry, humiliated, and frustrated. I had a zillion emotions, running, crazy wild through my mind. But I remember feeling surprised that I wasn't crying then. It just wasn't happening.

Until I slammed my head. And fuck, that really, really hurt. I slammed my head as I was getting up, on the corner of my bureau, and for the love of Jesus God, it killed. T heard me yell. She asked if I was okay; I said yes. It's her voice too. It started. Her asking me, her caring voice, my pounding head and my aching heart, it all started, then and there.

It's a simple thing like that, and it will do it. And it had me, curled in a ball on my bed, using my teddy bear's paw to wipe my eyes. The tears just kept coming. Part of it I had done to myself. My head really ached. The other part, was beyond my control at that moment in time. It wasn't something I could have been less careless about, so as not to have my heart be aching right then, like my head was, it just happened. It has been a bit of a long time coming, and I knew that when it did, it might not be pretty.

It is a combination of physical and emotional pain. My head still hurts today, and so does my heart. I prefer the first hurt, the kind I can actually put my hands on, that will soon subside, to the intangible hurt, that's deep within, that's so very hard to mend.

the only thing that stays the same is change

I have a tendency of looking at moments in time, by comparing them to what I was doing, around that time the previous year. Or sometimes it's the previous week, but mostly, it's a reflection of what once was, a year ago in time.

One year ago today, I was living in a different place, with three other people, my best friends. Now, we have since moved apart; we still remain close, now only two of us co-habitate together. Instead of splitting bills and groceries among four of us, we now do for two. Instead of having three best friends at the distance of a hallway, it's now by distance of a phone call, a T ride, or a 3 hour drive. That living situation is one of the happiest memories in my heart. It's not "better" now that we're not all together; every day I miss it. It's different, but a lot of good has come of it too.

Last year at this time I was not single. I was in a relationship that was more serious than it should have been for the time we had been together. I was so involved, so emotionally invested, that I was using my energy on keeping a not so good thing going, because it seemed the right thing to do, rather than using my strength to begin to walk away. Saying goodbye was the right thing to do.

I'm pretty sure this time last year I had more money. Now rent is more, and I have more bills. The overdraft protection currently, although not present last year, is so worth the new things I have gained- which are not just limited to material possessions. So I am more than okay with this.

Last year I lacked the introspection that I have since gained. Today I know myself better than I ever have. I have learned new things about myself through the experiences, relationships, dramas and upsets, successes and disappointments, and change, over the past year.

I used to not like change. It made me feel nervous, and uncomfortable and anxious. Now I've learned, that with change, comes opportunity and growth. Now I don't so much fear it as I do look forward to it, and try to embrace it as much as possible when it happens. I learned to do this because I found I was finally ready to let myself be more open to it. I realized, that I had no other choice. You can resist change all you want, but it isn't going to just go away. I once read a quote: "the only thing that stays the same is change." This has stuck with me. Only I didn't really get it until fairly recently.

By saying goodbye to an unhealthy relationship, moving, experiencing new things, being more independent, being okay with being alone, I have been okay, and happy, with change. I still find it to sometimes be a bit overwhelming, and yeah, even scary at times. I now though, have the past year behind me which has shown me that change, it can be a really, really good thing. If only we are open to letting that change happen.

have me

say those words, like that, so sweetly

laugh out loud, like that

be goofy and silly with me, like we do

compliment me, like that, talking about my hair when it's, like that

put your hand on the table, pass me your drink, like that

and look at me, really look at me that way, where i feel like you really get me, like that

write to me, about this and our memories, and what we've done and how you like that

compare, like i do, and say that no one is the same, like that

lie in my arms and seek comfort, you know i will hold you there, like that

and put me in a situation, like this

and just like that, like this, you have me

you always have

back to reality

It's time to get back to reality. I've been on a week-long binge of food, alcohol, best friends, lack of sleep, and fun. I can't believe it's all come to an end. And it's back to the grind- 5:30am it will be for the gym, three square meals a day instead of junk, water and milk, fruit and veggies, low key nights, Grey's Anatomy, emails and phonecalls instead of hugs and photo opportunities. Back to early bed times, early mornings, stressful days, statistics at work, walking at lunch, missing people, errands and grocery shopping. Laundry again, homecooked meals instead of restaurants, putting away christmas presents, taking down the tree, all back to normal. It's all over. Now, it's all just a wonderful memory.

Happy 2007. I hope the year brings everyone much love, happiness, and many, many wonderful memories to come.

places, and drinks

I want to be sitting by the ocean right now, with my ipod on, with my feet in the sand, the sun blazing down on me, with a frozen drink in my hand.
Or I want to be in a cabin, in the middle of the mountains, with a cozy fire going, a big wool sweater on, and a hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps in my hand.
I also wouldn't mind being on Lake Tahoe, on a boat, going around the lake, with the wind breezing through my long hair, music playing, with a coors light in my hand.
Maybe on a frozen pond, wearing mittens, holding hands with someone, laughing because we aren't the best skaters but we're having a blast, sipping a tazo chai.
I'd like to be at a black tie party, in a sexy black dress, with my hair up, the perfect accessories and shoes, a new perfume, and a martini in my hand.
I wish I were babysitting the kids I used to years ago, going outside with them, building a snowman, coming inside and baking homemade cookies, with a tall glass of milk in my hand.
I'd like to be in front of the tv, watching Grey's Anatomy, with my best friends, under a blanket, in comfy clothes, with a glass of wine in my hand.
I'd like to be in bed, under high thread count sheets, with a good man, with playful laughter and longing glances, hair sweeping gestures and morning breath, and two cups of french vanilla coffee.
I'd like to be celebrating the new year, with those that mean the most to me, with new years paraphernalia, steamers, sparkles, and a glass of champagne in my hand.
I'd be happy to be at the mall, shopping at Crate and Barrel, and Express, with no lines, and sales, sipping an Orange Julius.
I'd like to be somewhere far away from here, where I've never been, exploring new things, and new people, with a drink I've never had in my life in my hand.

35 years from now

At first I thought the goosebumps were from the window that I had cracked open while I was drying my hair this morning getting ready for holiday festivities. But as I heard Merideth Viera telling the story of this precious group of ladies and their annual holiday tradition, I realized it was actually the tv segment, that was giving me the chills.

The Today Show this Christmas morning, featured a group of 6 or 7 ladies, and their holiday tradition. For 35 years these women have gotten together, just the girls every year during Christmastime, to celebrate their friendship and the meaning of the season. As they showed them all, laughing, drinking, crying together, I found myself with tears in my own eyes. These women have been the very best of friends for over 35 years- they have been through everything together. Marriages. Children. Cancer. Divorce. Triumphs. Disappointments. Everything that best friends go through together, they have been there on the journey together for the past three plus DECADES.

And as I was watching it, I couldn't help but think- wow. The best part of the whole segment, besides seeing these precious little ladies laugh, celebrate, and be merry together... was the thought that this will be us in 35 years.

Saturday night, the night before Christmas Eve, I got together with 5 of my best friends for our annual tradition. Quite similar to these ladies, although probably more in the way of the pomegranate martini consumption, we celebrated our Christmas together, as we have for the past 6 years. My heart has been overflowing with emotion since Saturday. These girls are my angels. My heart. They are my home and they mean the absolute world to me. Seeing this special this morning on tv has left me smiling since, knowing, for certain, that this will be us in 35 years.

I feel very lucky this holiday season to be surrounded by amazing friends and family. To those that I love that are far away (B, S, Dad), I hope that you are enjoying the holiday surrounded by friends and family. To everyone else, I wish you all a happy season, spent with those that mean the most to you.

availability in all shapes and forms

"Do you think that you are attracted to unavailable men?" she asked me. "Well no. It just so happens that two of the people that are on my mind right now, happen to be unavailable." I am not drawn to them for that reason. As a criteria. Looking for unavailable people. "Yes, but when one was available you didn't want to be with him, and you have never given the other situation a chance." I didn't know what her point was. I didn't get it; I wasn't sure where she was going with this. I began to think of a really big glass of wine, and chocolate. I had cramps. Perhaps this conversation wasn't going to really go anywhere.

"I don't mean this to be mean," she said, "but you are the only person I know, your age, that doesn't want to pull their hair out when it comes to dating." I said nothing, just stared at her. Was she going to say something else? Was it my turn? Did she want my reaction to that? I had nothing. "Most people your age are all caught up in meeting the next man, the perfect man, being in a relationship. You just seem to be so at ease about it all, like it's not even much of a priority." Well, it's NOT a priority. By any means. I have always felt that when the time is right, things happen. That there is a reason behind everything and right now, I'm single for a reason. I'm usually pretty fine with it.

I do often find myself missing good parts of relationships past, but I also find that I'm totally caught up in the good parts of being single. Not having anyone to check in with, doing my own thing, when I want to do it. Less money spent around the holiday season. Time to take creative classes like cooking and "change your inner talk change your world" (I took it, it works... I need to review the notes though, toxic voices are somewhat loud lately). Things like that, about being single, that I'm enjoying and wholeheartedly delving into. Sure I would like a cute man companion to be on board with me, but I'm not feeling incomplete because I don't have it. It's just... it's not a priority, she was right.

Okay, so there do happen to be people on my mind that are unavailable. Physically. And emotionally. Okay, and geographically. Etc. Etc. Blah blah blah.

I've learned, that it's better to be single, and attracted to someone unavailable, than in a relationship with someone who is unavailable. I've learned, that there is a difference between someone who is available physically for a relationship, and being emotionally available to be in one. I've learned, that you can even be in a relationship, with someone who appears to be by all definitions, "available," but turns out that ends up being so far from the truth it's scary. Being with someone who isn't emotionally available, to love you the way you need to be loved, to make you feel secure and comforted in the relationship, to make you happy, well that experience is just awful. It's painful. And sad.

So, I've learned, there's many ways to be involved with an unavailable person. Sometimes you don't even know it's happening, until you're in the thick of it, and it's too late. No warning. No sign that they are going to be emotionally not available for you. Sometimes it's hard to see that distinction, when it's not a physical availability we're talking about, rather an emotional one.

What I haven't learned, is how, or why I guess, I have been involved in these type of situations, and how to kind of... avoid them? But then again not all of them have even turned out bad. They all really have been experiences from which I've grown. They've happened, and sometimes it's sucked, but they all have taught me something or another.

"What are you thinking right now?" she asked.
"I don't know."
I don't always know what to say when she asks me these questions, these things that I sometimes think are randomly out of the blue. But at least it gets me thinking.

I'm a Carrie

I happen to be one of THE biggest fans of Sex and the City ever. I was so into the series when it was on, so into all of the characters and their lives and who each of them would be out of my friends. When I lived with D, T, and M, we would go out and say we were the girls from the show. We'd try and think of who was who. I've always been a Carrie. I have a Mr. Big. I loved every single episode of the show and watch the dvd's I own frequently, now with the commentary to hear more about the writing behind the characters and what went into it all.

And this past weekend, I had the most amazing Sex and the City experience ever! It was a 3 hour bus ride where I was in my absolute glory. I loved every moment of it. I just had to come here and write about this wonderfully amazing tour.

The ride started right outside Central Park. We got on the bus and the tour guide (Stephanie), had us look out the bus to our right, to where Carrie had said goodbye to Big before he went into his engagement party with Natasha. This is also where the scene was filmed where Miranda was in charge of the guest book at her friends wedding, and Charlotte wore that amazing bridesmaid's dress and slept with the best man during the reception. Also where, at the last scene of season six, Carrie walks down the street and gets the phone call from "John."

After each spot we saw, we were able to watch the scene on the little screens in the bus. So cool. The next stop was to that little random sex shop where Charlotte was introduced to the "rabbit." I loved that episode. We got to go into that location, into the sex store, where we got 15 minutes to shop around. From there we went by the church where Samantha met one of the only guys that she wasn't able to get- Friar Fuck. Remember him? He was that good looking priest that Samantha was into, and started to go to church for. From there we went to the Magnolia Bakery where Carrie and Miranda have eaten cupcakes outside of before. We all got a yummy freebie cupcake, and from there....oh my god... we went to Carrie's front steps. This was my favorite part of the whole tour.

Some other stops included that cool bar that Aiden and Steve owned where we all had a cosmo, the place where Carrie and the girls were trying all the different perfumes and she announced to them that she was "taking a lovah," Charlotte's art gallery, Samantha's apartment, and sooo many more.

There were tons of other stops, many little tidbits we learned, scenes we got to view, behind the scene info given to us. And I loved every minute of the whole thing. I'm such a SATC addict that I could go on and on and on about it all, because it was really, that good. So good. I just had to say something about it, because it's something I'm going to always remember. Man I miss that show.

I need to stop this

I'm an idiot. I do this every time. I can't complain, because I do it to myself. I put my damn self into this situation, and then I whine about it. I whine, and I cry, because I don't know what to do with myself after it happens. I could prevent it though. Why don't I? Why not avoid the calls, the freaking looking for you here, or there? Why do would I do that?? Why do I do this? I am such a stupid shit for this, and have no right to whine about it because it's preventable. It's something I have control over. I have been told, before, that in life, there are some things that you just have no control over. I have control over this. Worry about things which you have control over. I have control over me whining about feeling like THIS.

Alone. Lonely. Without YOU. And it's not even the YOU that I'm missing it's the THING that we had. The relationship and the GOOD of it. None of the bad. And when this happens? I think of the good, not the bad. Why is it just the good I think of? How is that fair? Why would my mind do that to me, filter out the bad? As a defense mechanism type thing? F that. I need the bad. I NEED the bad. To remind me. To remember. To confirm. To assure me that I did make the decision based on the bad. The bad outweighed the good. The bad outweighed the good. (repition will make me believe)...

At times like these, shit, the good is all over the place. Why? Why can't the bad the here, all of the time? Must the good be in my face all the time? It doesn't help. It doesn't help for us to talk, for me to initiate, to call, to send this or that and pretend. It's pretending. That's what it is. I think I'm ready for it; I over and over convince myself that now, I am ready. That you've moved on so I should be too. And I have. In so many ways. But here it is, one year later and so much has changed...
Yet....
God.

I'll pick 5:30AM instead

Tonight I have been reminded why I have always hated going to the gym at night.

For one, it's freaking crowded. So crowded. The elliptical I usually choose upstairs? Taken. The stretching area/room with the balls? A zoo. All I wanted was to get a quick workout in, and I really did know damn well I was taking a chance by going at 7pm, but I haven't worked out in too long, I didn't get there this morning, and I figured I'd give it a go. I thought it would be fine. I was wrong.

And you know who they are. Those damn guys with the polyester Adidas pants 5 sizes too big. With the ripped, muscle shirt on, and his ipod either strapped or clipped on somewhere. He's that guy. There's a good chance he's wearing too much cologne, or else he looks like he hasn't showered or shaved in days, you take your pick. And he looks like he's in a frat. The one who struts around, does his reps on the machine, then doesn't wipe it off. He thinks he's the best looking thing there, and when I try to squint to see the latest on Nicole Richie's arrest, he thinks I'm looking at him. Yeah, ew.

Those guys are everywhere in the evenings. They're there, and so are the cutesy chicks who dress up for the gym in order to impress these guys. And it's crowded and it's annoying and instead of it being a good stress reliever, going to the gym with this scenery at hand really leaves me feeling... yeah, annoyed.

And to top it off? I dropped an f-ing 15 pound weight on my toe. Yeah, shit.

I love the gym in the morning. It's quiet, calm, and clean. The people there are similar to myself. Also some moms, perhaps even some good looking men who aren't still in college, who didn't drink a 30 rack last night. They actually have to go to work today. It's nice there in the morning, and I feel all happy and good about the morning gym experience. Screw this night stuff.

Now, when my alarm goes off at 5:30am, I will no longer think to myself, "I'll just go tonight." No, no freaking way. I will remember tonight, and every other night I've attempted the nighttime gym experience and I will damn straight pick an early morning over this any day.

Jury Duty

Jury Duty. Some people dread it. Me, I've only had to go one other time before the today and I actually look forward to it. I wish it was every year, let alone having to wait three. I guess I'm just fascinated by it. Or the men in uniform. Any chance to get a paid day out of work, and oogle men in uniform (with handcuffs) to boot, I'm down. There's something about a courthouse that intrigues me.... maybe it's how "offical" it appears. How strict it all is in there, and how you know you won't get away with anything even if you tried. (Being told several times that we could "not go in the no access/employee only rooms"- no shit, right? - got a little annoying)

Maybe to some, going for jury duty is intimidating or something. Going through a security check point every time you enter and re-enter the building. Hey, I have nothing to hide. The only things in my bag today include: two pens, a notebook, my cell phone (which is turned on silent now- thank you very much Mr. Uniformed Officer), a half eaten granola bar, my wallet with $3 dollars (when is pay day?), a chick lit book that I keep having to re-read because I've been so ADD lately, my ipod, and three lipglosses (yes, I'm an addict). Nothing in here I'd be embarassed to be sifted through. I'm in no way embarassed of the fact that I'm reading a book called "The Grrl Genius Guide to Great Sex."

So I bust my butt to get here early today (7:40am) to get a parking spot for my 8:00 scheduled report-in-or-else time. Now I'm outside on a random bench, admiring the huge, "intimidating" structure that is the courthouse, because Mr. Uniformed Officer with Handcuffs said "you can have a break, we shoot for 8:30." Oh really? Because if I knew they shot for that time I could have hit snooze another three times.

***Sidenote about the snooze button- I seldom use it. I'm one of those people who believe that it's better to get a longer, uninterrupted sleep than waking up early, and pressing snooze continuously... over... and over. Today was different because even though I thought I'd be able to get up right on the first blast of music to my alarm, my body said otherwise and I in fact had to succoumb to the snooze button. Just this once.***

Anyway, I downed my iced coffee in a matter of 10 minutes (mind you, I'm one of those people who keeps these things going until lunch time) because "refreshments aren't allowed in the courtroom." I get in there, make myself comfortable, early mind you- all of that, only to be sent outide to do some more waiting, at the beginning of a norotious waiting-around-kind-of-day.
Oh well... and so it is- jury duty.
And that's all fine and so very much worth it, because I'm learning about Great Sex.

forever always seems to be around when things begin

There are days, times, moments, when I get totally into lyrics. Consumed with googling them, rewinding them, playing songs on repeat to hear them, memorizing them. Yeah, I'd say its almost an obsession. I try to find songs that fit my particular mood that day or what I'm thinking or feeling at the time. Almost always I can depend on Damien Rice or Joshua Radin to do the trick. Lately it's been Ray Lamontagne, Imogen Heap, Rachel Yamagata, or Kate Havnevik. Often it could be Norah Jones, Coldplay, Dido, or Snow Patrol. Recently Ryan Adams and Cary Brothers and Joe Purdy. Used to be more John Mayer and Ben Harper... sometimes it still is. It's just funny how some songs, some lyrics, totally sink in and I find myself remembering them, literally, years later. I remember during my freshmen year of college, replaying Ben Harper's Forever... over and over. I remember how I felt at the time when I was listening to it; I remember the room I was in when I heard it, how I felt when I saw him in concert playing it that year. And now, all that, those memories, they all rush back when I hear it on my ipod on or the radio, today, years later. Those lyrics, that feeling I got then, I still remember it so clearly, today, still.
Interesting how certain lyrics and songs can bring us back to certain times, memories, relationships, places, etc. Just random, Just interesting.

someday

I'm not really ready
to be all okay with this

I can pretend though
that when you say that, like that
that I'm happy
that it doesn't bother me

I can pretend
that I don't see that
hear that
that I don't really feel like this

the truth is
I'm not really ready
to be all okay with this

I can pretend that this may not in fact, really be real
that it's not serious
even if it is

I can pretend that I'm content with what's missing
what was once there but now is not
because perhaps this is the way it needs to be

and, I can tell myself over and over
that this is what's right, at least for now
the way it should be

but right now
im not really ready
to be all okay with this

Home

November 27, 2006

I just got in late last night from my longest stay ever in Reno. I have probably been there about 8 or 9 times now, and every single time I go, I feel like, this could be home.

It could be home for a lot of reasons. It could be home, because my dad is there. It's where he moved a little over three years ago. And C's there. He's been there even before my dad. When I think of home, I think of a lot of East Coast things, naturally; it's my familiar. But lately, I have thought of home as so many parts of the West Coast too.

It could be home because the area there is so me. It's so beautiful and I could totally picture myself moving there, finding a small one bedroom, I'd already have some people I know, so that would be a good thing, and I'd have the mountains, and Lake Tahoe. I'd have family and some friends already. I'd have no humidity and I'd have warm days on a hammock.

For a couple months at the end of my last year in grad school, I seriously considered moving out there. I'd go to see my dad, and I'd pick up apartment listings books outside grocery stores. I'd be even more observant, taking in the areas we'd drive through, look at "for rent" signs even more intently. I'd check the newspapers, google apartments when I'd get back home. I looked at the jobs out there, I found jobs I could apply for. I pictured my life there, my moving there. And so much of it was so appealing. So much of it still is.

As many aspects of it that I love and that I could picture would be so home to me, a whole huge chunk of it is just too unfamiliar to my familiar, lifelong home.

My mom is home. My home was with her for my childhood, and she's always going to be my home, even now, as an adult. We have an amazing relationship for which I am so grateful. I honestly couldn't picture being that far from her. My grandparents are home to me. All four of them, who I am so fortunate to still have in my life. I've even lived part of my childhood with my mom's parents. My home was with them. My best friends are home to me. I've lived with them too, they were my home for more than just a year, and they are still my home. They are my go to people if I need to talk it out in the middle of the night; they're the siblings I never had.

Home has always been the East Coast to me. The New England cold weather, the seasons, especially the fall, the Sox, Bruins, and Pats. York Beach, Hampton Beach, the town I grew up in. The Nor'easters, the 90 degree humid weather, they are all so very much home to me. It may not all be stuff that's amazing and desirable to others, but it's still what I know, what I'm used to, what makes up "home" if someone were to ask me to describe it.

All of these people and things have made up my home for the past almost 24 and a half years. The thought of being far away from all of that, it's freaky. It scares me and it gives me the feeling. But it excites me too. And for those few months after grad school, I was legitamately getting ready to be serious about this move. But for all these reasons of a familiar home and all things associated with it, I couldn't do it. I am still here, home with the familiar- the faces, the memories, the people. I'm home with all of that.

They say "home is where the heart is." But what if you're heart is grounded, if it is home, in two places? And the thought of leaving one place for another is really that intriguing, yet at the same time that unthinkable? I am certainly one for trying new things, and being adventurous and although sometimes have a fear of change, I'm one to embrace it. Growth comes with change. I like being comfortable, but I also like the uncertainty that comes with new, with unfamiliar, with change.

But changing my home? To that far away? Not right now. Not yet. I guess I will just know when, or if, the time is ever going to be right for that. Or if some miracle happens, and Reno switches coasts, becomes New Hampshire, or Vermont, or Maine- then I'm so there, in a heartbeat.

Until then, I will spend my vacations embracing every moment I spend there. Taking it all in, living in the moment with it all. There's not many places that you can visit and really feel like you're home. I do there. And that's a good feeling.

The rest of "about moi"

Here's 58 more, to make 100 in the list...

43. I prefer to use an old fashion paper agenda type book rather than a techy PDA.

44. I am very good at keeping in touch with people. I like to write random letters, send out of the blue cards, and emails.

45. My mom and I always leave singing messages back and forth on our voicemails. Our favorite is You Are My Sunshine.

46. I hate the smell of it, I hate to DRAIN it, but I love tuna fish straight from the can.

47. People in my family have a long life expectancy. I’m still close with my great-grandmother’s sister, who is 98. She still takes aerobics classes.

48. I’ve seen John Mayer in concert I think, 7 times.

49. I really value my independence.

50. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. I think Christmas has become too commercialized.

51. I have a real, like I’m back in third grade, pen-pal.

52. I wear mostly all silver jewelry. I have one gold diamond necklace that my mom gave me with the diamond from the engagement ring from my dad. They’ve since divorced, and this necklace is really special to me.

53. I used to have a fantasy of making out in the pouring rain. It finally came true.

54. I am very selective in what kind of deodorant I use.

55. I look forward to having children very much. I know I want more than one, maybe 2 or 3.

56. Peanut m&m’s are my downfall. I think it’s a family thing.

57. I make sure that every room in my apartment is clean and picked up. Except for my room. I have trouble keeping my bedroom organized.

58. I have always wanted to work at a grocery store. I used to play supermarket with my great grandmother, ringing up her items on a fake cash register. I love cash registers. I often think of getting a part time job as a cashier, just for the hell of it.

59. I love Italian subs, with hots please.

60. I don’t have any siblings. I do have an “almost sister,” and three or four close friends that are like sisters to me.

61. I don’t know whether I really believe or not that guys like it when girls make the first move.

62. I have a long history of worrying way too much about what people think.

63. It gets tiring sometimes, making sure that everyone is happy and content. This is my own doing though, and typically I enjoy it. It’s when I neglect to pay mind to my own happiness that it gets tiring.

64. My first love is still in the back of my mind. That doesn’t mean I want to get back together with him, it just means the relationship was very meaningful.

65. I miss swimming. Competitively, recreationally, teaching it, lifeguarding- all aquatic things related, I miss.

66. I check my email sometimes a little obsessively. I get so excited when I receive real mail.

67. I love the smell of new books, newspapers, and magazines.

68. I wear six rings on my fingers. They are all silver.

69. I enjoy going places alone. I value alone time as much as spending time with others.

70. I don’t like leaving people alone. This has been something that’s been hard for me since childhood. I remember, as a young child, worrying about my dad when he was home alone.

71. Pomegranates remind me of D. I never had one until sharing one with her. I also like pomegranate martinis.

72. I have been told that my blue eyes and my smile are my best physical features.

73. In a relationship, I need to be with someone who has his own interests, hobbies, and friends, outside of us together. And I need to be able to maintain my own independence. I would dig dating a guy that plays the guitar.

74. I am still very close with the family of my dad’s ex-girlfriend. Her daughter is the almost sister, and her son is one of my best friends. They are all wonderful.

75. I love winter hats, scarves, mittens, and gloves.

76. There are people in the blog world that I wish I knew in real life.

77. I have gone back and forth about thinking it would be cool to be on The Real World, and thinking I could never do it. The idea of "7 strangers, picked to live in a house, work together and have their lives taped, to find out what happens, when people stop being polite, and start getting real" intrigues me. Living with 6 other people, in a new place, in a sweet house, sounds pretty sweet. Everything on camera? Notsomuch.

78. I really like Morgan Freeman, and the movie Shawshank Redemption.

79. I miss the show Felicity. I remember watching it with my mom in high school and us talking about that being me one day, away at college. That seems like so long ago now in a way, but in others, only yesterday.

80. I want to get married in the fall. I don’t do well in the wicked heat, and hate humidity. I went to a really pretty wedding in October one time; it confirmed my plan. Hopefully my future husband will agree with this.

81. I miss peanut butter and fluff sandwiches. I remember in middle school, they had them in the cafeteria and they were made with three pieces of bread, tons of fluff, and the creamiest PB ever. I loved them.

82. I prefer my jelly with the preserves. I like raspberry the best.

83. I used to love watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade. I still do.

84. I can usually fall asleep pretty easily if I don’t have a lot on my mind. I doze often, and catch myself nodding my head. Oops.

85. I LOVE my digital camera, making collages, sending pictures to friends- everything picture related, I love.

86. I’m thinking it could be cool to take a photography class. Or a cooking class.

87. It takes a while for my hair to dry. When I blow dry it, it takes a long time, and when I wear it up in a clip, still by night time, it’s not dry.

88. I once hit a possum driving home from a bar in college. It ran out in front of the road, and my friends and I screamed, drove back to check on it, and it was gone.

89. I really think Omar Epps from Love and Basketball, Alfie, and House is attractive.

90. I regularly check my horoscope. I don’t know how much truth there is in that stuff, and I know they are made to be pretty general, but I usually end up believing them.

91. I love TLC’s Wedding, Baby, and Dating stories. Oh, and Perfect Proposal. I remember when I used to have the time to watch them in college. I miss that.

92. I prefer Gin to Vodka, Whiskey to (most) Rum, and beer to wine.

93. I get really clammy hands, a lot of the time. Everyone who is close to me knows this. I used to be really embarrassed about it, now I just laugh at it. Sucks, but it’s not going to change.

94. I love surprises and surprising. Surprise notes, visits, packages, letters, all of the like.

95. I will generally let people go who are waiting to pull out of a street, or are trying to merge into traffic. I would want someone to do the same for me.

96. I believe in the Buddhist idea of Karma, and that we reap what we sow.

97. I love fleece. I have a new fleece scarf that I love, multiple fleece jackets, and blankets.

98. I am good at remembering faces, but not names. I hate when this happens.

99. I couldn’t ask for a better group of friends, I consider myself so very blessed (is this already on the list? if so, who cares, they deserve all the mention in the world).

100. I have been known to pee my pants from laughing so hard.

6 in 1 day.... fish, the trilogy.

Dear B,
I'm so sorry. I was doing all the right things. Cleaning it when I should, feeding them the right amount, not leaving the light on all day (I learned that the hard way), changing the filter regularly. They were doing so good! All swimming around, playing with the little shot glass I put in there for a cute effect... they seemed happy in their new home. All was good in their new spot.

Unit it wasn't.

Until yesterday. And I swear, if I hadn't missed your call this weekend when you called me, from France (idiot, how could I miss the call?!, I miss YOU), then I would have assured you all was well, given you the update on your favorite fish, Blacky, telling you how they were thriving in their aquatic playground.

And they so were! Until yesterday. That's when it all started I guess. One died. Shit, and you know how I hate the actual scoop out and flush bit. So it was okay, I was okay... one out of the whole crew, and it had been sooo long since any prior casualities! But then today. Oh my God, today. I wake up, and one more is dead! NO! I tell T, and she goes to get it out, and there is ANOTHER dead. That's two so far. I get home from work tonight, go to check on the little guys... two more, gone! Are you freaking kidding me? I change the filter. I feed them, have a little talk with them. They seem okay? I come to do some work on the computer for a couple hours... turn around, and no freaking way, are you serious? Two more.... dead!

B, that's 7, in less than 24 hours! What the hell is going on? We're doing all the right things; what is wrong with them? With my caregiving?! They've been doing so well... and now this?!

I am so sorry.

And I'm sorry I missed your call. I missed your call, and I miss you. How is France? We haven't gotten one of your group email updates in a while. I miss our talks. I miss your singing, our singing, to Oasis or Simon and Garfunkel in your Buick. I miss our lunches and your stories. The smile you always bring to my face. I miss your smile. And as you once said, "I miss the bull shitting"... the sitting on your couch, literally, bull shitting about our days, our qualms, what the hell she's wearing on tv, what to text him back, where to go out for drinks.

I hope you're doing well. I'm sorry about your fishies. Blacky is still okay though, I swear.

Talk to you soon,
M

NY bound...

Well, I'm getting ready to leave tomorrow for NY to see my Samantha, and her hubby Chris. She's really the sister I never had. Or should I say the sister I almost had? Our parents dated back in the day.... and... long story short, although they are no longer together, I truly feel like I gained a sister out of the deal, and couldn't be more amused by that.

More to come when I get back.....



PS- Did anyone see the hot scene with Sawyer last night on Lost? Wow.

on pause.

I cannot, no matter how hard I've tried these past couple of days, think of something really worth writing about. Something that I would be interested in reading in one of my daily blog visits. The more I think about what I could write, the more insignificant anything I might have to say feels. But it's been a week. And I'd like to post more often than once a freakin week! Oh well... I'll come back soon, and I know soon enough I'll think of something. Not yet though... right now I guess I'm just at a blog stand-still.

unannounced

It's one thing to be able to anticipate, prepare for, be as ready as you can to see someone that you don't particularly want to, or need to see. It's quite another when they show up unexpected, unannounced, out of the blue. I'm thrown off guard, at a loss for words, or with what words I do find, I'm nervous, noticeably so. For me, I know I need to avoid this confrontation for a multitude of reasons, but one of the biggest is that I know how I get when I see him, or talk to him, or think about him too much. It's a door I wish to keep closed. Maybe one day I can open it up, a spec, but not until I'm totally ready, and that time is not now, and really... perhaps it isn't in any foreseeable future for me, and that's something I'm okay with. It's a door that doesn't need opening, and that's something I've come to learn through first slamming it closed, then creaking it open a little bit, opening it way too wide, closing it again but not locking it, and now, closing it, with no lock, but with a firm feeling of satisfaction in that shutness.

He didn't physically show up at my door. He wasn't there, in person, or through a phone call, an email, or a text. Nothing so concrete as that. So you may wonder... what is the big deal then? You thought of him? You found an old tee shirt? An old note he wrote you? You went somewhere that reminds you of him, of you two? No. Nothing so concrete and real as that.

A dream. That's all it was. A simple, little dream, but yet... so something that I had no control over. I didn't want that, I wasn't ready for that dream. I had no warning. Maybe it wasn't him there in reality, but seeing his face, unannounced at my door, on my couch with me, things with us seemingly normal, light, and fun all in a dream... so real seeming- not prepared. And of course the dream didn't have any of that bad stuff. It, of course, had all of the good things... laughs, sweet gestures, affection, compliments, cuddling, comfort. And more. It had all of that, which at one time was there in this particular relationship with him, but it had extras. Extra good stuff, that was never there, but in the dream it was. Instead of something like, arguments, tears, excuses... things that would serve as reminders, the damn dream had good extras that brought up the what ifs, the second guessing.

I hate these kind of dreams the most. What good are they? An unwanted reminder of what was, what could be? What will never be? And a blow in the face, with a sting that pierces through the next day, or many days, thereafter?

Is it my subconscious trying to tell me something? I'm clearly an overanalyzer, so I will no doubt sit with this one for a while, trying to overinterpret it to death.

It's okay I guess... I mean, it was just a dream. I just wish it weren't so damn real seeming. Why I'm so much a read between the lines type of person that I feel the need to find meaning in this. It shouldn't be that big of a deal. It's just that I didn't prepare for this, no warning to GET ready for it whatsoever. As ready as I think I am or would be for it, I wasn't, I'm not. I didn't want this dream. Not now (ever?) I'm not ready yet.