'Cause I Am Barely Breathing

I'm sitting here debating about if 10pm is too early for me to go to bed when I'm not sick regardless that I'm tired, watching VH1's 100 Greatest Songs of the 90's and thinking about how much innocence I have lost since the 90s. Everyone grows up but I matured a little later than the norm when it came to my body, boys, and sex. Sadly, I was ahead of the curve on watching a marriage fall apart before my eyes growing more and more jaded about love and relationships.

I distinctly remember getting up every morning in the late 90s, looking at myself in the mirror, and loathing myself. My hatred went far beyond teenage angst; it grew in to a constant state of barely being able to breathe to the point of me wanting to simply just stop breathing for good to end the pain. It's sad, I wish that I could go back in time and tell myself that I shouldn't worry about all of the things I let get me down back then, that it would all work out in the end. Ironically I've traded those teenage doubts in for adult ones adding to it the potential regret of a night on the town and a royal hangover the following day. I envy those who are able to pull off confidence ('cause lets face it, everyone has their inner demons of self doubt raging under the surface), then again maybe confidence and being able to pull it off is just like poker... ya gotta know how to get away with a good bluff when you're holding a losing hand. I never could bluff, I've always been a bad liar - I haven't decided if that's a good thing in the long run or not yet.

Either way mirrors for me are something I need to brace myself for, to attempt to squash the demons I know will arise before I can hear them. I think this is why I've grown in to a person so reliant on the opinions of others. If they think I'm [fill in your own complementing adjective] then perhaps I actually am even if I don't believe it. The irony is I hate it so much, that I am so full of self doubt that I have to register my self worth based on what I believe others think of me. It's pathetic - but they are my demons to bear and hopefully one day to vanquish.

Perhaps that's why when starting out being intimate with men I chose to go the "guy route" when it came to sex. I chose to have hookups where I wouldn't have to see the guy again, there were no emotions, I was never hurt - though I was torturing myself with wondering why guys were interested in only seeing me naked but nothing more. Yet there is a certain appeal to hook ups, knowing you won't see the person again you can release your inhibitions and just enjoy the moment; as Prince said in his song Gett Off, "23 positions in a one night stand."

I have matured though, I got a little bruised in the process - but I am determined to not regret anything that I have done. Without the 90s and all of its bad fashion, I would not be the woman I am today. This decade has had a lot more heartache in it, but it has also had so many more happy moments than the one before that I can only hope the next decade will be even better.

With an eventful year drawing to a close I am left to wonder what 2008 has in store for me. While it will be another New Year's Eve with no guy to kiss when the ball drops, I am determined to remain hopeful that 2008 will be a great year. I also will not make any resolutions since they are never kept anyway so why further stress myself out. :-)

On my drive to the mall tonight a song came up on my iPod I haven't heard in years. The lyrics hit home and encouraged me to reflect on how I let little things impact my self-worth. Lately I have been feeling completely unsexy, I am so unsure of myself, of the value I hold on the single market.. there must be a reason why I'm still single, I just have so much love to give and no one to give it to that it gets frustrating and I can't help but question how much of a "prize" I am. Later tonight I headed in to Victoria's Secret to try on some items and I made sure to look straight in to the mirror... sure my skin is whiter than a ghost but that used to be coveted as alabaster skin. I could lose a few pounds, but so could most people. I had to smile, I didn't look half bad.... and that is an amazing feeling. Perhaps it's the little victories that might only last for a minute that keep me going; but they are better than nothing in the long run.

Alanis Morissette, "So Unsexy"

Oh these little rejections how they add up quickly
One small sideways look and I feel so ungood and
Somewhere along the way I think I gave you the power to make
Me feel the way I thought only my father could

Oh these little rejections how they seem so real to me
One forgotten birthday I'm all but cooked and
How these little abandonments seem to sting so easily
I'm 13 again am I 13 for good?

I can feel so unsexy for someone so beautiful
So unloved and for someone so fine
I can feel so boring for someone so interesting
So ignorant for someone of sound mind

Oh these little protections how they fail to serve me
One forgotten phone call and I'm deflated and
Oh these little defenses how they fail to comfort me
Your hand pulling away and I'm devastated

I can feel so unsexy for someone so beautiful
So unloved and for someone so fine
I can feel so boring for someone so interesting
So ignorant for someone of sound mind

When will you stop leaving baby?
When will I stop deserting you baby?
When will I start staying with myself?

Oh these little projections how they keep springing from me
I jump my ship as I take it personally and
How these little rejections how they disappear quickly
The moment I decide not to abandon me

I can feel so unsexy for someone so beautiful
So unloved and for someone so fine
I can feel so boring for someone so interesting
So ignorant for someone of sound mind
So unsexy

The Past Always Comes Back To Haunt Your Present

I know I shouldn't let this get to me but pathetically it's taking all I've got to not cry right now.

I read something today that I didn't like, I know I could be reading too much in to things but I cannot help but think that it is about me. In short, that I was OK and served my purpose but that he's upgraded and now has a winner. Call me a bitch, call me crazy, but I'd like to think I'm a hell of a lot more than "eh, she was alright" and someone easily traded for a winner.

I have moved on from Mr. Dishonesty, why can't I move on from the situation? Why almost a year later can he still have this effect on me? More importantly, why do I even fucking care?

I hate this, I'm so tired of it.... My own words prove that I was never head over heels with him and that instead weeks in to our starting whatever it was that I was thinking about bailing. I became attached because I'm a female and sharing a bed with him on a regular basis does that but not because I was falling for him. I hate myself for actually caring about how he regards what it was (and how I was). I don't want to have to torture myself constantly about how I must not be good enough for a guy like that to end things with me and then make comments like that (again, I know I'm assuming the comment was about me).

What kills me is that I know I know he's not worth any of this - my emotions nor my efforts in blogging about him. He doesn't deserve to have had me talk to him let alone share a bed with him and that he should be on his knees every night thanking some higher power that caused me to give him the time of day. (Perhaps that's going a little overboard with the analogy.) Yet he's the one with the girlfriend of now almost a year who apparently is far better than me in his mind and I'm still the single one - and not for lack of trying this past year yet I keep striking out.

I know it's petty, but it's not fair. *I'm* the good one why do I continuously seem to be punished?

And it's so hard for me, I resent that as much as I want him to fall off the face of the earth he seems to have weaseled his way in to my life for good as long as I keep some of the friends I have and live in this city - and it's not that I personally see him or have to talk to him, that would be easier. But no this is far worse, his is a name I read and hear on a far too regular basis. Like the fly that keeps buzzing around your head no matter how much effort you put in to trying to smash them it seems that he is someone I'm gonna have to deal with as much as I don't want to.

It's just so fucking frustrating. And it makes me hate myself for how I react and how I allow myself to be flooded with self doubt and loathing. His opinion - on anything, means less than nothing to me yet I'm sitting here seriously wounded thinking about the potential of how he views me (and therefore my skills and qualities as a woman).

I have so much going for me and I know I could make the right guy so happy - why can't it happen? I truly believe that everything happens for a reason, that Fate has a plan all laid out for me - what did I do to piss Fate off this much that I cannot have what I want no matter how hard I try to find it? Yes, there's the cliche no one will love you until you can love yourself but it's so hard to love myself when it's clear that no one else does - that guys can meet me and easily move on with their lives without me like I'm nothing. At the rate I'm going I'm going to be an old maid long before my hair goes white.

Taking a Leap of Faith

“Because I will not do them the wrong to mistrust any, I will do myself the right to trust none; and the fine is, for the which I may go the finer, I will live a bachelor.”
- Benedick, Much Ado About Nothing

Those who know me can attest to the fact that when it comes down to it, I cannot speak my mind, especially when it comes to my emotions with guys. Part of it is due to lack of experience… when you have one night stands and unemotional hook ups you never have to have the “where is this going” discussion. There are parts of me that are severely behind in maturity levels – it’s not for lack of trying that I haven’t really dated, just bad luck that has caused me to be a lap behind other women my age (or younger).

Perhaps the larger part of why I never speak up is that I’m terrified that I’ll be alone and never have another chance at anything. With the beauty of hindsight I have come to realize that something is not always better than nothing. Especially when that something consists of me being unhappy and spending time with someone who is bad energy for me. I did myself severe injustice by not ending my last relationship, if I had it would have saved me months of beating myself up, wondering why I wasn’t good enough for him to want to include me in his life. But you know what? It’s not me being good enough that is in question; it’s him – he was not, nor ever will be, good enough to be included in my life. I should have realized that sooner, but the true lessons learned are the tough ones that leave you a little worse for wear in the end.

I may be stubborn and difficult at times, but I know that I am an amazing woman that any guy would be lucky to share a bed with and would be stupid to not claim me as theirs. However it is always easier to say than to accomplish.

I haven’t heard from The Wanderer since late October, which is sad news but I knew the day would come when we would lose touch. I hope he is doing well and sincerely hope he gives me a call if he’s ever in the area so we can grab a drink.

It’s funny how distance works, it doesn’t matter how much fun you can have with a person the distance will sooner or later break you. The Boy Who Got Away will always be just that because with him being a starving artist and me being, well broke, neither of us have the time to take off from work nor the money to be able to fly/drive to see each other. I haven’t seen him since January 2003 and I miss him, which reminds me I do owe him a phone call.

Distance can work the other way too. Benedick is now within easy dating range. But that has thrown a wrench in to the system…. Because of the distance we started out as two adults having fun. Now things are different, or rather, they can be different. Once again I am in a situation where I want to ask, “Where is this going” but am scared to be “that girl” and speak too soon. I know that talking on the computer is far from time spent in person in respects to getting to know someone and evaluating their date-ability; which makes it all that much harder to decide on when is the right time to start voicing concern.

Benedick is not like other guys I’ve been interested in. For one, he seems to have his shit together and is an actual man. I think he’s someone who could push me to the next level of my personal growth, test my boundaries to becoming a better person. This became evident today when I took a giant step of my own in what has turned in to a leap of faith. I brought up the subject of not being interested in a hook up and we actually talked about it like two adults. For the first time in I think ever when it has come to a guy I’m interested in, I have said what was on my mind.

At this point I’m sure you’re wondering what the big deal is… this is HUGE for me. My usual MO is to hope for the best without voicing my concerns while I cry myself to sleep at night and harass my friends for their analysis of every single breath I recount to them praying that a solution will be made and I can live happily ever after. This time I made sure that I wasn’t a welcome mat to be walked over and while I am unsure of the outcome right now, the important part is that I said my part and I have decided to take a risk.

I told Benedick I wasn’t interested in a friends with benefits situation and we talked it out. The schoolgirl in me had hoped that he would tell me of course he wanted a relationship with me and how silly of me to doubt that. Sadly, reality is never like the fairy tales – perhaps that is a good thing though. If love came easily wouldn’t we take it for granted just like Americans with their freedom? If it came easily there would be little hardship and therefore minimal personal growth.

Today proved just how far I’ve come even while I was shaking from nerves and laughing at myself for them. I realized that I did something I should be proud of today. Instead of just keeping my mouth shut and “going along” with the situation knowing it wasn’t on the track I wanted it to be on but hoping there would be a turn down the way, I actually voiced what I wanted and even more importantly, what I didn’t want. In the end Benedick cannot give me what I want right now nor does he know if he ever will be able to. What impressed me the most and made me realize that I made the right choice for now, was that after I expressed that I was cool with playing it casual for the time being he was worried that now knowing where I would like things to head, that I might get the impression that with him agreeing to continue having fun would be the same as him promising down the road things could change when he couldn’t promise me anything.

I am lying to myself slightly saying that I’m fine with keeping things casual right now. I like the idea of being with him, I love how easily he fits in with my friends, but more importantly I believe in fate. There is a reason he came in to my life and why I felt an immediate connection with him before I knew much more than his name and profession. I have come to realize this afternoon that “love” is about taking chances and even the slightest possibility of something there is worth the risk of me getting bruised in the process. Even more importantly, perhaps the reason fate brought him to me was for this moment, where I finally found my voice.

Don’t get me wrong; I’m just crushing on Benedick, nothing more at this point. Yet the situation has helped me to recognize a larger picture, just like Tristran in Stardust I have seen a hole in the wall that overlooks a field of possibilities. Ok, so perhaps that analogy is a little cheesy but it made my point.

Despite the snow and horrible driving conditions I do believe I managed to keep my feet under me. While it was stressful and I know I never would have been able to say what I needed to in the way I wanted to in person, the important part is that I had the “where is this going?” speech and I survived it.

Who knows what will happen with Benedick and I. Perhaps I’ll become his Beatrice, only time will tell. Regardless of if the ending is happy or sad I know that this time I will have no regrets about what I didn’t say and that is oddly comforting.

Unexpected Sightings

So I went out last night to say goodbye to a coworker who is leaving. There was a whole bunch of us out and while we separated out in to various groups of people most mingled between the "cliques" through the night.

At one point I noticed a bunch of the women leaving in a pack and going the opposite direction of the bathroom. When one got back I asked her where they went. She informed me that a former coworker was at said bar and they went over to say hi. She encouraged me to do the same, little did she know that this former coworker was "the first".

After kicking myself for not dressing up and looking hot, I decided I needed to see for myself how he's been (and more importantly if time has been kind). Two of the women from my group were still talking to him as I approached the table he was sitting at with an unfortunate looking girl. He's no Brad Pitt but he's not bad looking, she on the other hand was fugly... and not his wife. I learned later after noticing no wedding ring that they had divorced about a year in to the marriage because he cheated on her a bunch of times.

Ironically when I was spending time with him he told me that he had cheated on almost every single one of his girlfriends... guess the saying holds true - once a cheater always a cheater.

When I walked up he looked surprised to see me, said hi, and then promptly continued talking to the other girls and ignored me... ouch. Perhaps it was because he was so awed at how much I've grown up in the last 5 years that he could not bring himself to talk to me. At least that's the story I'm sticking with for my ego.

The encounter made me realize that there are only 3 men from my past who I really would prefer never to have to see again. There's Mr. False Promiser who I met during a weekend conference/training session who did just that, made a bunch of false promises only for me to find out weeks later that after spending the night with me he went home and popped the question to his girl friend. Nice right? There's Mr. Two-Timer... the guy who swept me off my feet, the world stopped when we kissed, and then I woke up and found out he had a girlfriend the entire time. And the last is Mr. Dishonesty.. I've blogged about him before and that's as far as I need to go in to for now.

But The First... I actually would have really liked to have had the opportunity to sit down and catch up with him. I used him as much as he used me and our ending was obvious so there are no hard feelings or lingering emotions.

Guess this time my past doesn't want to deal with me. Perhaps we'll run in to each other in a different situation and will be able to catch up on life. Or perhaps we won't as we were not friends before we got together so there is no reason for us to be friends now. Either way, it was good to see The First though, and I hope that life treats him well.

Trick or Treating for Adults....

So I met up with my step bro and his mom to take him trick or treating in their small New England town. I had heard rumors of jello shots being given out when I worked in town but never saw it for myself.... until tonight.

Certain houses were blatantly handing out jello shots for adults while another person gave candy to the kids... one woman was carrying around a bag that instead of candy had jello shots in it for her to give out to fellow parents as she walked.

Who knew I'd be doing jello shots while I walked the streets with the bro collecting candy.

Makes me smile.... the amount of adults in costumes made me laugh as well tonight.

Happy Halloween!

A Few Tricks, But No Treats

Each season has it’s own distinctive features: crisp air, burnt orange colored leaves, these are the tell tale signs that it is Fall in New England. Fall is my favorite season, and ok, perhaps I’m a closet leaf peeper but I do love taking a drive and seeing how the foliage has begun to change color. One of my favorite photos of me as a child was taken when I was around the age of 2 and I’m laying in a pile of leaves the same color as my hair. Perhaps fall is the season for redheads, if nothing else it provides the perfect complementing backdrop for us.

Fall also means Halloween – one of my favorite holidays. Halloween is a time to give girls the get out of jail free card to be out in public dressed in as little clothing as possible and not run the risk of being shunned from decent society. I have always been a fan of dressing up; I think I’m an actress at heart (minus the talent); there is something so appealing in being able to slip in to a character unlike oneself for a while. I saw my costume this year in a store window and had to try it on, it was perfect and I couldn’t wait to wear it out.

My friends and I planned on hitting up one of our regular haunts because they were having a Halloween party. There were some great costumes there, and it was enjoyable to walk around and have people recognize whom I dressed up as. At one point a woman dressed as Dorothy made eye contact with me, pointed, smiled, and yelled “Alice!” From there we bounced to another bar so we could meet up with other friends and dance the remainder of the night away. It was there that I realized I’m old.

I gave the bouncer my money and walked in to a swarm of grown ups trying to mingle with the coeds in a vain attempt at clinging to their younger years while the coeds were too busy getting drunk and looking for a hook up to notice the people who could be their parents watching them. The place was hot, further encouraging the shedding of layers of clothing; but what was worse was the smell – a cross between a dirty bathroom at a truck stop and a locker room. Sounds like a great place right? At 26 years of age this should still be my stomping ground yet I felt like a square block being forced in to a round hole by a toddler not understanding that the two do not belong together.

So I danced, biding my time until the lights would turn on shocking people back in to reality and perhaps embarrassment once the harsh light showed them that the person they’ve been flirting with all night is more beast than prince(ss). I began to survey the room like I always do in a crowded place, looking for familiar faces and taking in how other people are interacting. I don’t like crowds; people make me nervous especially social situations like bars where you have no personal space. It takes me awhile to feel comfortable and I much prefer being the wallflower than the center of attention as much as that may go against my only child ways.

What struck me was the attire some women were in, particularly a cowgirl who chose to wear chaps with only a pair of navy boy shorts with white stars on them underneath. Yes, that’s correct… she essentially was at a bar in her underwear – isn’t that a recurring nightmare for some people? What topped it off was her stripper like dancing that she continued to do with her friends and a male cowboy. Now I’m all for showing cleavage and wearing pants than show off my butt – yet parading around in a bar with my butt cheeks hanging out is going too far. Perhaps she took a wrong turn on her way to Mark’s Showplace and ended up there, or perhaps she’s just a slut. Her attire and antics made me feel so old though, along with causing me to be slightly uncomfortable with her dancing near me.

I did have an amusing moment when heading to get a drink at the first bar I ran into a couple I dog sit for… yes, now they’ve seen me running around a bar in a Halloween costume. :-) It was nice though, I’ve dog sat for them for years but haven’t actually seen them for I think around two years, we talk via phone and email and I know the code for their garage so there hasn’t been a need for face-to-face interaction. They’re cool people who greatly deserve to be parents, it’s a shame that the adoption process is depriving them of that as they enter in to year two of trying to adopt – but that’s an aside.

In the end the night didn’t go as I had hoped, it was an ok time but nowhere near an amazing night. I think I looked hot as Alice but there were no treats at the end of the night for this girl. I partially feel too old to be hitting the bar scene in a costume as the 21 year olds are out in fashion and acting in ways that shock me. However, I still wish that Halloween came more than once a year so I might just have to start throwing a costume party or two during the year just for fun.

"You Know I'm No Good"

So I had a nightmare last night that all of the guys I have slept with were actually friends with each other and compared notes on how I was. That would be scary, makes my skin crawl... I like to have a clean slate and to not have to deal with the past.

On another note I think that it should be illegal for people to make dresses that only a contortionist would be able to zip up themselves.... not all of us women live with someone to zip them up. I was trying on dresses for the holiday company parties season and found two that I was in love with and made me look like I had a perfect body... they fit... like I could reach behind and connect both ends of the dress with a little room to spare yet try as hard as I could, I could not them zipped up completely I'd stop at 3/4 of the way done. How the heck does that work?

It reminds me of the Sex and the City episode where Samantha could not unclasp her bracelet.

Relationship Purgatory

I have come to realize over the last year that while I may not have a lot of relationship experience under my belt, that I am an overly caring person who has the tendency to put myself out there 200 % when I care about someone. That carries over in to friendships as well, in many cases I feel that I give far more than I get in return. But this is particularly tricky when it comes to guys and dating. I am the girl who will remember the little things you say about that killer meeting you have next week and who will send you an email/text wishing you luck on said day. I will bake you cookies if you've had a stressful week in hopes that they will bring a smile to your face. The problem lies in that in most cases I end up being the one trying with a guy who is doing minimal work and that is not fair to me nor does he deserve to be treated so well.

I like to think of myself as quirky rather than crazy, but I do know that I am an amazing women who has some emotional hangups and short comings, but who in the end, will make a great girlfriend. To those who can't see that? Well I feel sorry for you 'cause you're missing out on what could be a great story.

My history with men has more holes in it than swiss cheese that generally follows the same timeline - I meet a guy, we hang out, things happen and then it's over before it began and I'm stuck waiting a long time before another opportunity comes my way. For a cute girl I've had far too many dry spells. I am that little puppy in the window wagging her tail looking at you with her big brown eyes begging you to give her a good home where she will be loved... or maybe that's a bad analogy.

For the most part there has been a huge difference between the type of guy I say I'm looking for and the type of guy that I end up with. This became very clear to me at the beginning of the month. I have had this aversion to older men, I think because I do not want to acknowledge that I am now officially, a grown up. I have tended to go for younger guys or ones my age and every time wondering how they always turn out to be idiots and I end up alone. Not this time, I have seen the light of going after a guy who is a little older than me (I'm talking a few years not "you could be my daddy" older); guys who are in their late 20s/early 30s are finally starting to have their shit together. This bodes well for women since most of us are tired of games and guys who like to act like they did back in college forgetting that was years ago.

We're going to call this guy Benedick (as in Beatrice & Benedick not Arnold); he is someone who came in to my life out of the blue and who something clicked in me before I knew anything about him that made me have a need to get to know him. I'd like to think that there might be potential there - he is someone who I think I have a decent amount in common with, but more importantly, is someone who would challenge me to expand my horizons and continue on the path of personal growth. Yet he's keeping his cards close and I don't know much more than that he's attracted to me.

Then there's The Wanderer... he is someone I never expected to hear from again yet I have and while he is not someone I can see myself with nor someone I'd want to date he's the one who is trying to see me again and saying all of these amazing things. In the end The Wanderer is neither here nor there.... he's a cool person but not the right fit for me.

The problem with The Wanderer is that he is making the questions I have about Benedick all that much more obvious. I'm not looking for Benedick to profess his undying love for me... all I'm really looking for is "you're amazing and I would really like to spend more time with you and see where this can go, I'm interested in you and being in a relationship with you" or something like that. :-)

Another issue is that I have never been good at sitting back and waiting for things to happen naturally - I am an only child of the 80s... I need instant gratification. But I also know that I play with the line of being "that girl" and I do not want to be her because she does not end up in a happily ever after story.

So in trying to not be "that girl" I end up in relationship purgatory - the place where you end up investing time in a guy that you are not sure what his intentions with you are. It's a place where you wait for 3 things to happen:


1. You wait for him to turn out to be more interested in playing mind games with you and you call him a jerk and move on.
2. You wait for him to finally disclose at least part of his hand and he eventually opens up to clue you in to where his head is at. This can go two ways and one ends very much like the scenario above.
3. You wait and wait and neither of the above happen so you get fed up and walk away never knowing what really happened.


I think I hate the dance more than anything - I just want to know where I stand but I know I cannot ask. Purgatory is not a fun place, and guys wonder why girls act so crazy - it's 'cause y'all put us in to this position of emotional unease where we have nothing to go on so we are left to over analyze our own thoughts and actions until we can no longer sleep at night. I get that it's a power struggle... you do not disclose your intentions or feelings knowing full well that this ensures you keep the upper hand. It's just not nice is what I'm saying.

However, in the end there is not much choice I have in the matter. So until I am clued in I will remain in purgatory blogging away trying to make sense of things. I pray I will not be stuck for too long.

Vanishing Act

I will be the first to admit that the majority of women have a tendency to forget their regular life once a boy works his way in to the picture. Life becomes all about said boy and friends are left by the wayside. While I have never turned my back on my friends, I am not completely guilt free. If a boy has caught my attention he tends to be my topic of choice so my friends are forced to hear all about him and my theories about what is happening.

I had hoped that this was a trend that would fade away as my friends and I entered in to the world of mature dating (if there even is such a thing), but that is not the case. There is a very valid reason why single girls secretly wish that all of their female friends stay single... that way they will never be forgotten about.

Being a lifer in the single world it seems sometimes, I have been the forgotten one too many times. So here is my suggestion to everyone out there: make time to spend with your significant other, and time to spend with your friends... keep these more or less separate unless you can socialize with both easily without making your friends feel like they are crashing your date. In other words, don't invite one of your female friends out knowing she will be showing up alone to then leave her surrounded by strangers so you can have time with your boy. It's a little rude, then again I don't think the majority if Americans know what manners are anymore.

The thing that baffles my mind is that these girls seem to so easily forget a very simple fact - that boy they are all about? Yeah his chances of staying in the picture for the long haul are slim to none. Common sense would be then to not ignore your friends since they are in your life for a lot longer than that boy.

Or perhaps I'm just crazy and my way of looking at the situation is entirely wrong. But I sincerely hope that if I become one of these girls, that my friends will give me a swift kick in the ass.

"Love Song For No One"

Every once in awhile you encounter a piece of writing that sheds light on yourself and becomes something that will stick with you forever. Sylvia Plath wrote “Mad Girl’s Love Song” which I studied in college is one of those pieces. Plath repeats one line over and over again in the poem, “I think I made you up inside my head.” I know that I have been guilty of this, be it a complete fictional person or taking someone in my life and creating a story around them that is more to my liking than reality.

There’s a safety in living inside my mind because there, I can control all factors and am never thrown a curve ball. In my head I get the guy, and he is perfect for me. Reality is generally on the other side of the spectrum… I may get a guy, but he rarely turns out to be anything more than a loser I should never have wasted my time on to begin with…. A certain guy who flirted for a while, said all the right things, and turned out to have had a girlfriend the entire time comes to mind as a perfect example of my luck. The luck of the Irish is the unluckiest kind.

Yet living in my head means that there is no physical contact and I crave that more than most things. The soft grazing of fingers across my forehead pushing my unruly hair out of my face, a hand on the small of my back while in a crowd keeping me close so I don’t get bumped in to, the millions of small gestures that mean so much more than the one making them will ever know.

I was asked this weekend how I could be single. Why am I still single? I hate that question, regardless of the vain it is meant in, it implies that I am defective, clearly there must be something wrong with me or else I would have been snatched up by now and living happily ever after. In some sense I am defective, I live too much inside of my mind, which causes me to be misunderstood, or for me to get blinded by what I want to see versus what is actually in front of me. But in reality I want to find love so much it hurts, I want love more than most single girls in their mid 20s and yet I keep shooting myself in the foot to spite my face in my hunt for it.

There is a reason why there are so many poems about girls in love where their sanity can be questioned. We are driven there by the games that men seem insistent upon playing. I will never understand why a guy cannot be upfront with a girl about his intentions or what is running through his mind about her and if there is potential there or not. Sure, I don’t want a guy who proclaims his favorite movie of all time is the Notebook, but I wouldn’t mind one that tells me what he thinks of me.

Yet if we bring up the topic too soon we become “that girl” and no female wants to be her so we allow ourselves to be mentally tortured by the thoughts running rampant through our minds because we don’t know what the great guy we went on a date or two with is thinking. I am quick to judge and have never been known for my patience… if I am in to a guy, he’ll know it; I just wish that the guy could do the same. But they never do because there is power in their games, they know that by remaining closed off they ensure the girl will spend double the amount of time thinking about him, analyzing his every word with her girlfriends and will be putty in his hands. It’s just plain cruel.

Right now I’m a little confused and I’m trying to just let the cards fall where they will, but I’ve never been very good at letting things happen on their own time. I have two doors in front of me, behind one is someone who has paid me so many compliments that I never hear but there are more negatives than positives in that situation. Behind the other door is someone who is closed off but who has helped to fill in a large piece of the puzzle of what I am looking for in a man and is someone I think I could really like.

I swear, when it rains it pours… I’ve been joking with my friends about how I should really write a book for I have some great stories to tell about the situations I tend to get myself in to. At least those in my life can count on me for a good story every now and again.

Yet I am still writing my love song for no one, the person I have either not met yet or don’t know has those feelings for me. And yes, I am directly referring to the John Mayer song (lyrics posted at the end of my ramble). Mayer says, “I’m jaded I hate it” as am I… I am not saying I want to change my last name any time in the near future. Please, I’m a product of divorced parents; I’m far too cynical about love and marriage to want it all now. But I am tired of being alone and cannot help but to think that perhaps I am doing something wrong.

The more I think about it though the clearer it becomes… I’m not so much tired of being alone as I am tired of being confused by silly boys. Does that make me a silly girl? I know that I am temperamental and often times irrational, but I do know that I am worthy of an amazing man; guess he just needs to hurry up and get here.



I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

"Mad Girl's Love Song" - Sylvia Plath

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Staying home alone on a Friday
Flat on the floor looking back
On old love
Or lack thereof
After all the crushes are faded
And all my wishful thinking was wrong
I'm jaded
I hate it

I'm tired of being alone
So hurry up and get here
So tired of being alone
So hurry up and get here
Get here

Searching all my days just to find you
I'm not sure who I'm looking for
I'll know it
When I see you
Until then, I'll hide in my bedroom
Staying up all night just to write
A love song for no one

I'm tired of being alone
So hurry up and get here
So tired of being alone
So hurry up and get here

I could have met you in a sandbox
I could have passed you on the sidewalk
Could I have missed my chance
And watched you walk away?
Oh no way

I could have met you in a sandbox
I could have passed you on the sidewalk
Could I have missed my chance
And watched you walk away?

I'm tired of being alone
So hurry up and get here
I'm so tired of being alone
So hurry up and get here

I'm tired of being alone
So hurry up and get here
I'm so tired of being alone
So hurry up and get here

You'll be so good
You'll be so good for me
Oh You'll be so good

“Love Song For No One” by John Mayer

A Chance to Help Out a Good Cause

I am walking a week from tomorrow to help out with Juvenile Diabetes and could really use your help. All I am asking for is $10.00, that's less than what you'd spend going to the movies or out on the town for a night! Plus any donation, (large or small) will help in the continued research for Juvenile Diabetes... you could be part of the cure.

So please help to sponsor me in the walk if you can.

You can do so by clicking here.

I know that money can be tight for all of us, but wouldn't it be great to be part of the solution that helps to allow children to live healthy, normal lives?

Thanks!

Sword in the Stone

I had the opportunity the other night to catch up with a college friend who I haven’t seen all that much since we left school despite the fact we both live in the same city and only a couple of miles from each other. Sometimes life gets in the way of being able to share it with friends.

She has recently split from her boyfriend of three years so as we artistically installed a toilet paper holder and began to clean her new apartment our talk naturally led to the boys that we have shared beds with. Recounting my past to a good friend who has been first hand to witness a couple of my juicy stories was like looking through an old photo album – it’s full of all kinds of memories: some beautiful, others ugly.

She called me her provocative friend and I’ll take that as a compliment. While I haven’t left a trail of broken hearts in my wake I have lived my adult life with a carpe diem M.O. If I see something I want and it is available to me I take it and don’t see a problem with that. To me I need as much of a connection with a guy physically as I do with their personality. Because of this I usually opt for running the bases faster than I probably should. I’d honestly rather know if the sexual chemistry is there or not before I get to know a guy really well and potentially fall for his personality to only wind up disappointed when things finally progress into the bedroom.

At some point during the night the following was brought to my attention: I propel guys in to committed relationships…. with other women. I truly do not know what to make of this realization. While it is not true with every guy I have had relations with, it has happened a handful of times. It makes me reflect about myself… I have said for years from my experiences that it seems like guys want to sleep with a redhead to see if the stereotypes are true, but they want to date a blonde or brunette. I don’t deny that there are many quirks that come with being a redhead that I wouldn’t have if I had been born with a different hair color. But I’d like to believe that my being a redhead ensures that the long haul will be a memorable one worth taking rather than just only good enough for a one-night test drive.

Is there something about me that is both the cause of a guy not wanting to be in a relationship with me but also the catalyst that causes them to rush out there to find a woman to be all heavy and serious with? That might be the most hurtful thing that could be said to me. I know I’m quirky and at times difficult, but at the end of the day to steal a line from a Julia Roberts movie: “After all... I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.”

If this realization is true, that I in fact push boys in to serious relationships with other women, well then I should start charging for my services! I don’t deny that it is slightly ironic, however I choose for the time being until proven differently to look at the situation in another light. Those boys were not worthy; they could not handle me and therefore had to look elsewhere for a potentially lesser woman. I am the sword in the stone waiting for the right knight to set me free from my stone prison.

On a totally different note, I am completely in love with Poco’s “Keep On Trying”. If you have never listened to it, give it a try it’s an old school classic that you might enjoy.

“And on a rainy night two lover’s held each other tight”

Rain always puts me in a reflective mood. I’ll sit looking out the window, feeling the cool breeze play across my skin waxing nostalgic about my life. Sometimes I’ll think about the future, where my life is going, what adventure will happen next, but usually I think about what has been.

Lately I have been thinking about how amazing hindsight is. I have been flirting with a boy recently and made a comment that would direct his attention to my myspace blog. Knowing that I use it to work through whatever is going through my head I decided to breeze through my postings so that I could delete anything that would completely scare him away. I forgot I had taken care of that earlier when I made a New Year’s resolution to delete all my dark & pathetic posts when I was depressed at the close of 2006.

Doing so caused me to have an epiphany and I’m so thankful I have had this one. Everyone close to me knows I haven’t really dated before because I was never interested in opening myself up on that level. I had sex like a man and tried to keep the hookups void of any emotion. Yet that very action is a complete hypocrisy since I am a very emotional person. After awhile I became tired of hookups and started to yearn for something more, an actual relationship where I could open the gates to the walls I spent so many years fortifying.

In May of 2006 my life would change. I met a boy: as so many stories of romantic angst start and immediately I felt comfortable around him, I was not nervous; there were no butterflies, no jitters. It was like we slipped in to a routine before either of us knew it. From the start I could never put words to what drew me to him. In general he is not my “type”, whatever my type might be. If I hadn’t been introduced to him through friends I never would have even given him (as cliché as the saying is,) the time of day. We had a relationship even though it was not called one, for almost 7 months before he ended things and I had to deal with what most girls experience in their teens. Looking back now I’m embarrassed about how I initially reacted because I’m a much better and bigger person than that.

I knew it was the right thing, and after the immediate shock I quickly stopped missing him or wanting him to knock on my door asking for forgiveness. Yet there was always something that nagged me in the back of my mind that I could never quite figure out. This nagging feeling stopped me from being able to completely move on and put him in the dust behind me. Don’t read too far in to that statement, I had been over him for a long time at this point but I would still slip in to reflection about what went wrong every now and then.

That is, until Thursday when I began to read all of my blog postings I wrote during the time I was with him. They started a little under a month in and they are shocking for me to read now. I was not happy - with him or the “relationship”, and I was seriously mulling over ending it. This baffles me, they are my words set down so I cannot misinterpret them or recall my feelings differently. I cannot deny what I wrote about how I was feeling in the moment. So why did I not end things then?

Part of it was that I was scared of choosing to be alone after so many years of not sharing myself with someone. After all, maybe the unhappiness would fade and it was better than nothing. Ha! I was a silly girl who refused to listen to her gut, the one thing she should know she could always trust.

I was also naïve, I had never been down that road before, and I did not know how to play the game. I knew at the time that I also wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, give him a chance instead of jumping the gun to find out in the end I was wrong. The irony is that that’s exactly what happened anyway – I was wrong. I was wrong to ignore my gut, I was wrong to not stick up for myself and stop the insanity of being in an unhappy situation. Hadn’t I learned anything from Shakespeare? “To thine own self be true.” Yet I was far from that – I allowed myself to be lied to by him and worse, by myself.

I assume the important thing is that the light bulb finally went off, not how long it took to do so. I do not regret being with him nor do I regret the situation. There is no point in regretting how I acted since I cannot go back in time and do things correctly; but I do wish I had listened to what my gut was trying to tell me. After a tumultuous home life I would have imagined that once I was able to decide who would be in my life and who wouldn’t, that I would kick those who were not good enough for me out. If someone hurts me (emotionally or physically) they have no right to be in my world. Perhaps I’m just self-destructive.

I wrote a blog back in August 2006 that’s ending was the catalyst to all of my current enlightenment:

“The one thing that might have helped tonight I couldn't have nor could I ask for.

How to save a life?

Warm hands, strong arms, and assurances that everything will be ok. The power of human contact and a calm voice.

In the end I am alone, now and probably forever. Because who in their right mind would want to love someone unstable like me when there are plenty of 'normal' girls walking around. But I still have a childlike hope that I am wrong and that it will happen, that I'm not a lost cause just yet.

"I am on solitary sand, but in parenthesis".”

I feel sorry for the girl who wrote that and other blogs that summer. Because the truth of the matter is that that one thing I couldn’t ask for would not have been the answer, for I was relying on someone who didn’t deserve that level of my trust. It’s like in an emergency calling your fair weather friend… it makes no sense at all. I know this now and hope I can recall this lesson in the future so I do not repeat mistakes I have already made.

Some people have commented about how they do not understand why I choose to throw all my emotions out there for all my friends to read in my blogs. I never had a real response other than it’s what I felt compelled to do. Now I have a reason. I am so thankful that I did write all of those blogs so that I could have this moment of reflection because without it I would still be lying to myself.

So consider this final closure to that brief chapter of my life. I see now that he was not worth my time then and he certainly is not worth any more of my time now. I was a fool to ignore what I was feeling and to quickly settle for unhappiness.

I will no longer be a fool… at least not in the same way.

Echoes

So I have decided to change it up a bit and move my blog outside of myspace for the serious stuff. Check back to find my views on life and love and how I suck at both.

Until then, I thought I would start things off with a little bad poetry that I wrote back on 3 April 2007.

Echoes

Bouncing around inside my head like an old arcade game
Simple images go back and forth, slowly, repetitively - constantly.
An inner monologue that has taken off while my mouth is closed tight.

How tight and for how long?
The tapestry of my mind begins to look like one of those dot paintings
Cohesive from far away but a mess of small splotches of color up close.
48 hours of almost complete silence allow my inner voice (voices?) to wander.

Am I making the right choices with my life, am I doing the right thing?
Echoes of worries that never end; never go away.
Work, boys, friends, debt, sex, bills, love, money
A river of emotions each it's own ball bouncing off the walls of my mind.
Little pinging noises as they turn to go the other way like a swimmer doing laps.

I am an over-thinker
Silence does not bode well for those who tend to live in their minds.
Did I learn anything from The Yellow Wallpaper?
Those with too many thoughts need to find a medium to release them.
I am not seeing things in the wallpaper, there are no images creeping in the pattern.
I think things, wave upon wave of what ifs crash in to my mind.

Lady Macbeth cursed for the spots of blood on her hands to disappear.
Spots that only her mind could see, a way for her conscience to express its guilt.
Do I want these echoes gone?
Perhaps they build character, make me stronger.
Or they could be slowly eating away at my sanity, chunk by chunk taken away.

The echoes are a part of me - they are me.
Think happy thoughts and you will fly,
At least that is what Peter told the Darlings.
Think happy thoughts.
Happy thoughts think.
Think thoughts.
Happy.
Thoughts.

Thoughts echoing inside my head as I stay verbally reticent.
The echo is a silent scream.