I'll admit it - I'm a Grinch. If I had my way I would rock out on Halloween, go to bed, and wake up at the end of March skipping the months (and their respective holidays) in between. I'd like to believe that there was a time when I was still naive that I enjoyed the holidays like a normal person, playing Christmas music while I strung lights up excited to spend time with friends and family. The reality is that I cannot remember the last time that was.
This time of year is all about couples, family, and loved ones. Well my family is broken and now no matter what I do I end up hurting the feelings of one parent when I choose to spend a holiday or my birthday with the other. So I spent the last two Thanksgivings in my apartment alone. As far as couples go the boy boycott is still going strong because there has yet to be a man to test my barricade's strength - no knight asking for Rapunzel to lower her hair to be saved. That leaves loved ones - all of whom have their own significant others and families to spend their precious free time with. That leaves Red on the outside, still waiting in line to be picked to play dodge ball.
The dawning of a new year causes people to reflect on the past twelve months and to make resolutions to better their health, their minds, and their lives over the next twelve. At this time last year I had one more best friend than I do now and while I know the moment that started the change I don't know how a spat turned into just never talking again. She would always tell me about how I needed to not shy away from confrontation and how she never let things fall apart with a friend, that she talked things out. Which is why I never waved the white flag to try and right things... because if she could just walk away from me after being in the wrong then I must not have been as big a part of her life as I thought.
But does that make me in the wrong because I also chose to let the friendship slip between my fingers after all that we had shared together solely because of my wounded pride over being ditched when I was emotionally in need? Or is it just too late now to go back... or move forward together? Who knows, perhaps I don't ever cross her mind and she isn't sitting at home wondering why I don't call her; perhaps she's moved on and forgotten about me. Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants my life is not.
I feel like everything has just changed so much in the past twelve months that I'm dizzy from how fast the room keeps spinning. Everything has changed since last November - nothing is the same nor will it ever be the same again. I miss my friends, all I do is work and go home while they are off living. I haven't had a camera worthy night in forever.
So here's to hoping that 2009 will be overflowing with memorable moments and filled with laughter and love... and a reason to lift the boy boycott.
22 November 2008
22 October 2008
I can have it if I wanted it...I think.
So I'm 6 months in to my "no boys allowed" resolution. The only action I've had are innocent hugs hello/goodbye from my guy friends. While a dry spell is nothing new to me, (my longest being two years), this one is self imposed and that makes it all the more difficult to endure.
It could be all talk, but there are three guys who have been suggesting shenanigans with them. So far I've successfully deflected the question but it does make me wonder why. I'm a red-blooded American woman who enjoys sex and the feeling of a man's hands on my body - feelings that certain solo recreations cannot recreate in any tangible sense. So why not give in to the desire and jump into bed with one of them? The rub, and thus the hesitation, comes from the fact that I cannot help feel that I no longer have a toe over the line, that now it's a foot planted solidly on the wrong side of 'ladylike' - and that's something I am not comfortable with.
But 6 months is a long ass time to go without... anything, and my resolve is beginning to break down. So now I'm stuck in an inner battle that doesn't seem to have a 'right' and a 'wrong' side.
Part of the dilemma is easy to solve, after an entire summer of being as invisible as a ghost, Benedick suggested we meet up - and seems to forget that the last time we were at this crossroad he was the one saying he didn't want a friends with benefits situation. I know that I can't go down that road again solely because if I do I clearly have no self respect. I'm not a high maintenance girl but I'm also not a blow up doll you can stuff in a closet and forget about for months. In this day and age of massive technology overload there is no excuse for him not to keep even irregular contact with me between April when he last saw me, and September. I may not know a ton about boys but I am pretty sure that if a girl is on a guy's mind, even in the slightest capacity, he'll get in touch with her. And if I'm not on his mind until he needs to get his kicks, he's (to borrow the catch phrase that spawned a book and soon a movie) just not that in to me; and a guy who can stop thinking about me is a guy who doesn't deserve to see me naked... period.
Bachelor #2 comes across as a little cold on some levels, a player, but deep down he's a good guy - and in the moments that mattered since I've known him he's shown that he's got a good heart. He's been talking up his game for much longer than any guys should be strung along but I've never been able to decide what I think about him. I'm attracted to him but I feel like we didn't jump into bed soon enough, that it would only be awkward at this point. And I'll admit it, it feeds my ego to know that he and I have never done anything more than flirt and hug yet he's still, after way too long, showing interest. The longer my break from guys goes the more I think that perhaps I should let him step up to the plate. The catch is all it would be is another friends with benefits situation and while that's better than nothing and it would solve certain frustrations I have, it's not what I want.
Bachelor #3 is... hot. He's hot, he makes me hot, the chemistry (the weeks of flirting and especially the two occasions we got naked) between us was hot. Mr. Tight-end (and his body was tight) is a guy that is out of my league and even now it blows my mind that he wanted anything to do with me. But as with all too good to be true situations, Mr. Tight-end was/is a juggler who has a main ball but keeps more than one in the air with ease. Hearing him tell me I'm a good kisser, talk about the time we shared, to hear him suggest we have a little reunion, does more for my ego than I care to admit. He is the one man who literally made my knees weak with a kiss and that's a feeling I haven't had repeated. I've been flirting with him again lately, more for a personal ego boost than anything else. We've talked about having some fun but I can't tell if there's any seriousness behind the talk. Today he blatantly asked me if I wanted him and then told me to let him know if I decided I wanted to hook up again. Y'all know he still has a girlfriend, I know he's not a single man, yet on chemistry alone I'm toying with the idea. But like with Benedick I know that I am better than being the other woman who knowingly sleeps with a taken man... no matter how good we are together when clothes come off.
Yet it all boils down to the fact that if I so chose, I could be having sex. Isn't half the plight of a single girl the fact that she can't have some adult fun with an attractive man when she needs to without going down the sketchy road of going home with a stranger she met at a bar? Here's 3 guys I've known for years, aren't these roads better to travel than another unknown one? It's only a matter of time before the offers are off of the table and I'm trying like hell to talk myself out of taking any of them up on their offers while I can.
I can't help but hope that if I hold off, and don't embark on another friendly hookup, that I'll actually meet someone who wants to claim me as their own for mind, body, and soul. The dream doesn't make the dry spells any easier to survive though.
Then again, who knows if the bachelors are all talk and no action. This could all just be an allusion of sexual offers that none of them ever plan on following through with.
In the end, what's a single gal to do?
It could be all talk, but there are three guys who have been suggesting shenanigans with them. So far I've successfully deflected the question but it does make me wonder why. I'm a red-blooded American woman who enjoys sex and the feeling of a man's hands on my body - feelings that certain solo recreations cannot recreate in any tangible sense. So why not give in to the desire and jump into bed with one of them? The rub, and thus the hesitation, comes from the fact that I cannot help feel that I no longer have a toe over the line, that now it's a foot planted solidly on the wrong side of 'ladylike' - and that's something I am not comfortable with.
But 6 months is a long ass time to go without... anything, and my resolve is beginning to break down. So now I'm stuck in an inner battle that doesn't seem to have a 'right' and a 'wrong' side.
Part of the dilemma is easy to solve, after an entire summer of being as invisible as a ghost, Benedick suggested we meet up - and seems to forget that the last time we were at this crossroad he was the one saying he didn't want a friends with benefits situation. I know that I can't go down that road again solely because if I do I clearly have no self respect. I'm not a high maintenance girl but I'm also not a blow up doll you can stuff in a closet and forget about for months. In this day and age of massive technology overload there is no excuse for him not to keep even irregular contact with me between April when he last saw me, and September. I may not know a ton about boys but I am pretty sure that if a girl is on a guy's mind, even in the slightest capacity, he'll get in touch with her. And if I'm not on his mind until he needs to get his kicks, he's (to borrow the catch phrase that spawned a book and soon a movie) just not that in to me; and a guy who can stop thinking about me is a guy who doesn't deserve to see me naked... period.
Bachelor #2 comes across as a little cold on some levels, a player, but deep down he's a good guy - and in the moments that mattered since I've known him he's shown that he's got a good heart. He's been talking up his game for much longer than any guys should be strung along but I've never been able to decide what I think about him. I'm attracted to him but I feel like we didn't jump into bed soon enough, that it would only be awkward at this point. And I'll admit it, it feeds my ego to know that he and I have never done anything more than flirt and hug yet he's still, after way too long, showing interest. The longer my break from guys goes the more I think that perhaps I should let him step up to the plate. The catch is all it would be is another friends with benefits situation and while that's better than nothing and it would solve certain frustrations I have, it's not what I want.
Bachelor #3 is... hot. He's hot, he makes me hot, the chemistry (the weeks of flirting and especially the two occasions we got naked) between us was hot. Mr. Tight-end (and his body was tight) is a guy that is out of my league and even now it blows my mind that he wanted anything to do with me. But as with all too good to be true situations, Mr. Tight-end was/is a juggler who has a main ball but keeps more than one in the air with ease. Hearing him tell me I'm a good kisser, talk about the time we shared, to hear him suggest we have a little reunion, does more for my ego than I care to admit. He is the one man who literally made my knees weak with a kiss and that's a feeling I haven't had repeated. I've been flirting with him again lately, more for a personal ego boost than anything else. We've talked about having some fun but I can't tell if there's any seriousness behind the talk. Today he blatantly asked me if I wanted him and then told me to let him know if I decided I wanted to hook up again. Y'all know he still has a girlfriend, I know he's not a single man, yet on chemistry alone I'm toying with the idea. But like with Benedick I know that I am better than being the other woman who knowingly sleeps with a taken man... no matter how good we are together when clothes come off.
Yet it all boils down to the fact that if I so chose, I could be having sex. Isn't half the plight of a single girl the fact that she can't have some adult fun with an attractive man when she needs to without going down the sketchy road of going home with a stranger she met at a bar? Here's 3 guys I've known for years, aren't these roads better to travel than another unknown one? It's only a matter of time before the offers are off of the table and I'm trying like hell to talk myself out of taking any of them up on their offers while I can.
I can't help but hope that if I hold off, and don't embark on another friendly hookup, that I'll actually meet someone who wants to claim me as their own for mind, body, and soul. The dream doesn't make the dry spells any easier to survive though.
Then again, who knows if the bachelors are all talk and no action. This could all just be an allusion of sexual offers that none of them ever plan on following through with.
In the end, what's a single gal to do?
06 October 2008
You Spin Me Right Round Baby, Right Round...
There are moments in my life where I feel very much like Bridget Jones - a girl trying to be the media's vision of what is sexy - and falling pathetically short of it. Bridget wore skin tight clothing that wouldn't flatter a slim girl let alone a stocky one in the attempt to win the attention of her boss. In reality Bridget is perfect... just the way she is in the eyes of Mr. Darcy (how fitting of a last name to be paired with Colin Firth once again).
My skin tight clothing on a pudgy girl comes out as me trying to be the bombshell hot girl when I'm far more of a pre-lesbian Willow than a Buffy. I try to exude hotness, to be sexy as hell... but when it comes down to it I'm a shy, dorky gal. But I'll keep trying in the hopes that one day I'll be able to dance like a Burlesque girl; because then I'd have the mindset to know what kind of guy I wanted and the ability to get him.
This hope of becoming sexy caused me to sign up for a 4-week intro to pole dancing class. It's the art of pole dancing not the stripperfied version. Class one I did okay and had fun, I even came home thinking I had seen a peak of the sex goddess within me. Tonight was a totally different story... I am sore, I am bruised, and I am frustrated with how I looked anything but sexy attempting to move my hips to the beat. I also failed at nailing the spin... and I have a ton of bruises on the insides of my legs to prove it. I looked out of place.... a fat girl in skinny girl's clothing and I had to thin, where is the fun in that?
Maybe it'll come together more in my third class, maybe I'll wake up and know that I have become the pole queen. Or maybe I'll wake up and realize that I need to embrace the bookworm girl next door qualities that I do possess and leave the sexy stuff to the girls who have the skills and the looks to pull it off.
Though my guy friends seem to all be very interested with the idea that I am taking on pole dancing and many have offered to give me their feedback. What is it with guys becoming horn balls over a woman who is comfortable enough with herself to pushing into the uncomfortable of dabbling in stripping/pole dancing for their own pleasure knowing full well they never would do it in front of a crowd?
Since it's 12:30 and my alarm is going off at 6am and I have yet to be able to sleep more than 2 hours a night for a week, I shall leave my thoughts incomplete and sign off.
Any bets on how bruised my legs will look come morning?
My skin tight clothing on a pudgy girl comes out as me trying to be the bombshell hot girl when I'm far more of a pre-lesbian Willow than a Buffy. I try to exude hotness, to be sexy as hell... but when it comes down to it I'm a shy, dorky gal. But I'll keep trying in the hopes that one day I'll be able to dance like a Burlesque girl; because then I'd have the mindset to know what kind of guy I wanted and the ability to get him.
This hope of becoming sexy caused me to sign up for a 4-week intro to pole dancing class. It's the art of pole dancing not the stripperfied version. Class one I did okay and had fun, I even came home thinking I had seen a peak of the sex goddess within me. Tonight was a totally different story... I am sore, I am bruised, and I am frustrated with how I looked anything but sexy attempting to move my hips to the beat. I also failed at nailing the spin... and I have a ton of bruises on the insides of my legs to prove it. I looked out of place.... a fat girl in skinny girl's clothing and I had to thin, where is the fun in that?
Maybe it'll come together more in my third class, maybe I'll wake up and know that I have become the pole queen. Or maybe I'll wake up and realize that I need to embrace the bookworm girl next door qualities that I do possess and leave the sexy stuff to the girls who have the skills and the looks to pull it off.
Though my guy friends seem to all be very interested with the idea that I am taking on pole dancing and many have offered to give me their feedback. What is it with guys becoming horn balls over a woman who is comfortable enough with herself to pushing into the uncomfortable of dabbling in stripping/pole dancing for their own pleasure knowing full well they never would do it in front of a crowd?
Since it's 12:30 and my alarm is going off at 6am and I have yet to be able to sleep more than 2 hours a night for a week, I shall leave my thoughts incomplete and sign off.
Any bets on how bruised my legs will look come morning?
04 October 2008
I Miss My Home
She is there waiting patiently;
I close my eyes and see her
Visions of vibrant green and crumbling stone.
There is an unshakable comfortable solitude within her arms.
The arms of a mother who has watched tragedy upon tragedy;
She has watched her children leave her for myths and tall tales.
Have you seen the streets paved of gold?
But she is patient as all mothers are with their children,
She knows they will return to her one day.
I made the trek once and found solace,
For a foreign place it felt unbelievably familiar.
I walked through the Burren that was so out of place;
It felt alien, unsettling, and fascinating.
"Don't step on a crack or you'll break your mother's back!"
A childhood rhyme brought to life at least somewhat.
"Watch your step on the cracks, you may fall through!"
We were cautioned as we wandered amongst the Giant's bed.
I walked the footsteps of my ancestors wondering about them.
Were they warriors or scholars?
Please tell me they were not cowards!
Were the men noble, but more importantly were the women defiant?
Fiery redheads determined to live their own lives regardless of rules.
Are they proud to count me as a kinswoman?
I walked among the stones, the remains of strongholds of old.
Within those ruins I could have spent a lifetime dreaming,
What stories do those stones hold?
I'm sure they are tales that would excite and terrify.
Tales of magic, greed, bloodlust, love.
Where did the little people go? Perhaps they are just laying in wait.
Yes, they are waiting for the right moment to appear again.
I walked through the Highlands and closed my eyes.
They are there, the ghosts of my clan.
Looking at the Crying Hills did they feel the same as I?
The tenseness of betrayal still echoes there.
It is a betrayal of clan custom just as dangerous to history
As Judas and Brutus were.
They are sisters really, the thistle and the shamrock.
Two Celtic women with histories so intertwined.
The Scots and the Irish have spent centuries fighting.
Yet I am equal parts a Scotswoman and an Irishwoman.
My loyalty is to both fair countries: I am of their soils.
I march to the beat of my own drum, a Bodhran: a Celtic heartbeat.
I belong with them, my two mothers.
I felt far more at home, at rest, there than I have here.
Does that make me less of an American?
No, for my bloodlines are older and deeper than America.
They are calling me, beckoning for my return.
I miss my home.
Yet I will return, of that I am sure.
And they will welcome me, a wayward daughter
Who has found her way back to her stoop
Yearning for the comforting blaze of the fire inside.
There I will finally be at peace.
~written in 2007
I close my eyes and see her
Visions of vibrant green and crumbling stone.
There is an unshakable comfortable solitude within her arms.
The arms of a mother who has watched tragedy upon tragedy;
She has watched her children leave her for myths and tall tales.
Have you seen the streets paved of gold?
But she is patient as all mothers are with their children,
She knows they will return to her one day.
I made the trek once and found solace,
For a foreign place it felt unbelievably familiar.
I walked through the Burren that was so out of place;
It felt alien, unsettling, and fascinating.
"Don't step on a crack or you'll break your mother's back!"
A childhood rhyme brought to life at least somewhat.
"Watch your step on the cracks, you may fall through!"
We were cautioned as we wandered amongst the Giant's bed.
I walked the footsteps of my ancestors wondering about them.
Were they warriors or scholars?
Please tell me they were not cowards!
Were the men noble, but more importantly were the women defiant?
Fiery redheads determined to live their own lives regardless of rules.
Are they proud to count me as a kinswoman?
I walked among the stones, the remains of strongholds of old.
Within those ruins I could have spent a lifetime dreaming,
What stories do those stones hold?
I'm sure they are tales that would excite and terrify.
Tales of magic, greed, bloodlust, love.
Where did the little people go? Perhaps they are just laying in wait.
Yes, they are waiting for the right moment to appear again.
I walked through the Highlands and closed my eyes.
They are there, the ghosts of my clan.
Looking at the Crying Hills did they feel the same as I?
The tenseness of betrayal still echoes there.
It is a betrayal of clan custom just as dangerous to history
As Judas and Brutus were.
They are sisters really, the thistle and the shamrock.
Two Celtic women with histories so intertwined.
The Scots and the Irish have spent centuries fighting.
Yet I am equal parts a Scotswoman and an Irishwoman.
My loyalty is to both fair countries: I am of their soils.
I march to the beat of my own drum, a Bodhran: a Celtic heartbeat.
I belong with them, my two mothers.
I felt far more at home, at rest, there than I have here.
Does that make me less of an American?
No, for my bloodlines are older and deeper than America.
They are calling me, beckoning for my return.
I miss my home.
Yet I will return, of that I am sure.
And they will welcome me, a wayward daughter
Who has found her way back to her stoop
Yearning for the comforting blaze of the fire inside.
There I will finally be at peace.
~written in 2007
27 September 2008
As The World Falls Down
Do you ever reach a point in your life where you feel like you are running your ass off on the hamster wheel but still watch everyone pass you by? That's how I feel right now... and it's annoying as hell.
I'm not in the dark, deep, depressed state that I get into every once in awhile on a rainy day; but I do feel like a toy train that has slipped its track while its wheels still turn and turn... and turn. I know that everyone gets into ruts and that sooner or later most people manage to crawl their way out of them but this is way more than just your typical rut, this is the mother load of them all, this is a meaning of life rut.
While no Rhodes Scholar, I know that I am an intelligent, well educated woman who possesses a certain girl-next-door charm. In high school I dreamed of becoming someone and had a ten year plan sketched out in my mind, I had a purpose, a goal. I wanted to leave my own mark on this planet and change the lives of countless people; I was just missing the small detail of how to accomplish this - and that's what I figured college was about. Then college happened and I was left in my dorm room watching other women head off to parties at the local coed schools and wondering how I ended up being such an outcast. Not to mention that MoHo made me feel like a backwoods (un)educated idiotic redneck... a feeling I had not felt prior to my first semester of college and one I did not enjoy.
So I ran, or at least tried to. Fast forward 4 years and two more colleges and I finally had my BA... and was even more lost than I was when I started my path towards a secondary education. I keep wondering now where I went wrong while also cursing fate that it would provide me with the love of literature and the idea of being a writer but none of the talent needed to achieve it. Which is fine, but it would be nice to have the slightest inkling about what my role during my short time on this earth is supposed to be. So far my 27 years have not amounted to much: no career, minimal friendships with people I rarely see, no great love - just a mountain worth of debt and a lonely existence in my one bedroom apartment where I hold a very strong love affair with my DVR.
Yet the more I reflect on where I came from the more I realize that I have ALWAYS been lost and an outcast and not in the black sheep misunderstood angst ridden teen way. My social outcast issues are far more serious because they fall under the blanket of that the vast majority of people I meet do not want to spend time with me. While I value the close friendships I do have odds are if you called me on a Friday night you'll find me at home in my pjs watching TV because no one called to ask me to go anywhere. And if I cannot develop a social circle how the hell am I supposed to network in the business world? I can't sell something that no one wants to buy into even on a casual level. This coming June I will have been out of high school for 10 years... and that plan I had back then? The only part I have accomplished is living on my own. 17 year old me thought I would be married with a great career and planning for a first child by the time I was 27. I have failed my teenage self... and that's such a painful feeling.
Over the summer I told a friend that I was taking a break from the game (of boys) because I kept making bad decisions. He told me that I could tell myself all I wanted that that was why things weren't working out as planned but my real reason for taking a time out was because I had lost my confidence and that I needed to get it back. How can you get something back that you never had in the first place? Every time I jump in to bed with someone I climb out of it less sure of myself. But when I take a step out of the circle instead of being left unsure I'm just left being lonely with pent up sexual frustrations. Maybe my confidence has suffered a staggering blow but there's no one around telling me how amazing I am to help speed the healing process along so at this rate nothing will ever change.
Every day I crave the lives others live, wishing I could be even just a small percentage like them, however, being left on the outside for so many years can only breed discontent. I hate those who have a happy, fulfilled life that they share with a partner. I envy those with big enough balls to shrug off the repressions of modern society to walk to the beat of their own drummer on a quest to develop a deeper understanding of who they are and what their role is.
I'm beginning to think that I really need to start talking to someone, a professional, who can help me dust off the muck that has gathered on me to reveal the diamond that is inside. But something far greater than the lack of insurance and money to cover the years of therapy I'd need is keeping me from starting to do some research on finding a psychologist that will fit my needs - and that's body freezing, breath stopping fear of what that person might uncover in my psyche. What if it's determined that I'm a hopeless case? That all I can expect from life is what I'm getting right now, that I'm not cut out to join in the dance and must find a way to content myself with my role of being on the sidelines for as long as my heart keeps on beating. If that's my role I don't know if I want to continue, maybe it would be for the greater good for me to, as Shakespeare put it, "shuffle off this mortal coil".
Perhaps Christopher McCandless had the right idea all along and he should not be mourned with sad comments about him starving to death alone in the wilderness of Alaska or ridiculed about how idiotic he was to think he could survive without the basics for survival or the knowledge of the area. Perhaps he should be praised for the urge to shrug off all that is comforting and familiar to trek out and discover who he truly was as a person. Then again maybe it was just a romantic nature based suicide plot and instead of soul searching McCandless was running from having to face his own fears about life; in the end only he knows why he went off into the wild and returned in a body bag. It must have been a beautiful backdrop to have your last visions of though.
Running away and ending things seems such an easy solution when the world is falling down around you...
I'm not in the dark, deep, depressed state that I get into every once in awhile on a rainy day; but I do feel like a toy train that has slipped its track while its wheels still turn and turn... and turn. I know that everyone gets into ruts and that sooner or later most people manage to crawl their way out of them but this is way more than just your typical rut, this is the mother load of them all, this is a meaning of life rut.
While no Rhodes Scholar, I know that I am an intelligent, well educated woman who possesses a certain girl-next-door charm. In high school I dreamed of becoming someone and had a ten year plan sketched out in my mind, I had a purpose, a goal. I wanted to leave my own mark on this planet and change the lives of countless people; I was just missing the small detail of how to accomplish this - and that's what I figured college was about. Then college happened and I was left in my dorm room watching other women head off to parties at the local coed schools and wondering how I ended up being such an outcast. Not to mention that MoHo made me feel like a backwoods (un)educated idiotic redneck... a feeling I had not felt prior to my first semester of college and one I did not enjoy.
So I ran, or at least tried to. Fast forward 4 years and two more colleges and I finally had my BA... and was even more lost than I was when I started my path towards a secondary education. I keep wondering now where I went wrong while also cursing fate that it would provide me with the love of literature and the idea of being a writer but none of the talent needed to achieve it. Which is fine, but it would be nice to have the slightest inkling about what my role during my short time on this earth is supposed to be. So far my 27 years have not amounted to much: no career, minimal friendships with people I rarely see, no great love - just a mountain worth of debt and a lonely existence in my one bedroom apartment where I hold a very strong love affair with my DVR.
Yet the more I reflect on where I came from the more I realize that I have ALWAYS been lost and an outcast and not in the black sheep misunderstood angst ridden teen way. My social outcast issues are far more serious because they fall under the blanket of that the vast majority of people I meet do not want to spend time with me. While I value the close friendships I do have odds are if you called me on a Friday night you'll find me at home in my pjs watching TV because no one called to ask me to go anywhere. And if I cannot develop a social circle how the hell am I supposed to network in the business world? I can't sell something that no one wants to buy into even on a casual level. This coming June I will have been out of high school for 10 years... and that plan I had back then? The only part I have accomplished is living on my own. 17 year old me thought I would be married with a great career and planning for a first child by the time I was 27. I have failed my teenage self... and that's such a painful feeling.
Over the summer I told a friend that I was taking a break from the game (of boys) because I kept making bad decisions. He told me that I could tell myself all I wanted that that was why things weren't working out as planned but my real reason for taking a time out was because I had lost my confidence and that I needed to get it back. How can you get something back that you never had in the first place? Every time I jump in to bed with someone I climb out of it less sure of myself. But when I take a step out of the circle instead of being left unsure I'm just left being lonely with pent up sexual frustrations. Maybe my confidence has suffered a staggering blow but there's no one around telling me how amazing I am to help speed the healing process along so at this rate nothing will ever change.
Every day I crave the lives others live, wishing I could be even just a small percentage like them, however, being left on the outside for so many years can only breed discontent. I hate those who have a happy, fulfilled life that they share with a partner. I envy those with big enough balls to shrug off the repressions of modern society to walk to the beat of their own drummer on a quest to develop a deeper understanding of who they are and what their role is.
I'm beginning to think that I really need to start talking to someone, a professional, who can help me dust off the muck that has gathered on me to reveal the diamond that is inside. But something far greater than the lack of insurance and money to cover the years of therapy I'd need is keeping me from starting to do some research on finding a psychologist that will fit my needs - and that's body freezing, breath stopping fear of what that person might uncover in my psyche. What if it's determined that I'm a hopeless case? That all I can expect from life is what I'm getting right now, that I'm not cut out to join in the dance and must find a way to content myself with my role of being on the sidelines for as long as my heart keeps on beating. If that's my role I don't know if I want to continue, maybe it would be for the greater good for me to, as Shakespeare put it, "shuffle off this mortal coil".
Perhaps Christopher McCandless had the right idea all along and he should not be mourned with sad comments about him starving to death alone in the wilderness of Alaska or ridiculed about how idiotic he was to think he could survive without the basics for survival or the knowledge of the area. Perhaps he should be praised for the urge to shrug off all that is comforting and familiar to trek out and discover who he truly was as a person. Then again maybe it was just a romantic nature based suicide plot and instead of soul searching McCandless was running from having to face his own fears about life; in the end only he knows why he went off into the wild and returned in a body bag. It must have been a beautiful backdrop to have your last visions of though.
Running away and ending things seems such an easy solution when the world is falling down around you...
29 August 2008
The Ugly Duckling
So I have a re-occurring fantasy/dream that has been happening on a greater frequency lately. The faces change but the plot is always the same. I meet up with or run in to a guy who I went to school with who was one of the less popular members of the student body. And they were more than just unpopular, they were the misunderstood "geek", who survived high school by being close to invisible.
But time has been good to them, while still a geek they have grown in to the hot geek who now lives a fun life, has a great job, and is no longer invisible. Since it's my dream, we of course hit it off and have a happily ever after fitting for any fairy tale ending.
I know that part of this dream is because I was one of those semi-invisible people in school, the awkward gal who got shy around guys and who had yet to grow in to their body. I'd like to believe that I've come in to my own and am now an attractive, intelligent woman. As for the male aspect to my dream I'm left wondering if it's my subconscious yelling at me about the guys I didn't give the time of day to when I was younger and how I blew my chance.
It's the ultimate story... The Ugly Duckling. A person who feels on the outside when they are young, knowing deep down that they are not like everyone else but are at a loss about how to change that. As they grow they come to realize that they AREN'T like everyone else - but that that's a great thing. The ugly duckling grows up to be a gorgeous swan - it's what every duckling hopes for in the end. Not necessarily to become model gorgeous, but that given time they will find their niche in the world.
Perhaps it's time for me to start getting in touch with those boys from school and see if they've come in to their own. Perhaps it's not about finding my prince charming, but rather, that I need to find my ugly duckling.
After all, in the end looks wither away but if one is lucky, the mind stays strong and vibrant. I'd rather have someone with an "attractive" mind than the model body.
But time has been good to them, while still a geek they have grown in to the hot geek who now lives a fun life, has a great job, and is no longer invisible. Since it's my dream, we of course hit it off and have a happily ever after fitting for any fairy tale ending.
I know that part of this dream is because I was one of those semi-invisible people in school, the awkward gal who got shy around guys and who had yet to grow in to their body. I'd like to believe that I've come in to my own and am now an attractive, intelligent woman. As for the male aspect to my dream I'm left wondering if it's my subconscious yelling at me about the guys I didn't give the time of day to when I was younger and how I blew my chance.
It's the ultimate story... The Ugly Duckling. A person who feels on the outside when they are young, knowing deep down that they are not like everyone else but are at a loss about how to change that. As they grow they come to realize that they AREN'T like everyone else - but that that's a great thing. The ugly duckling grows up to be a gorgeous swan - it's what every duckling hopes for in the end. Not necessarily to become model gorgeous, but that given time they will find their niche in the world.
Perhaps it's time for me to start getting in touch with those boys from school and see if they've come in to their own. Perhaps it's not about finding my prince charming, but rather, that I need to find my ugly duckling.
After all, in the end looks wither away but if one is lucky, the mind stays strong and vibrant. I'd rather have someone with an "attractive" mind than the model body.
17 August 2008
Another Chapter in a Luckless Dating Diary
After my last encounter with Benedick, I decided that it would be best to start a few Spring resolutions to stick to.
1. No repeats... those who have seen me naked in the past will just have to rely on their memories from now on because I will not be going down the same road twice.
2. No sex... period. Like any bad habit that needs breaking a certain level of dedication is required. I haven't been with a decent guy in.... ever. Sorry boys, but it's true - none of you cared about me any further than the need to get in my pants. Which is rude, but truth be told... I wasn't really that in to any of you either. So until I can change my fishing skills I'll be throwing back the scrawny fish biding my time until I reel in the perfect catch.
3. Coming to terms with the fact that it's OK to be picky. There's a reason why people are selective and as long as it's all within reason, being picky is nothing other than a good thing. I've been ragged on by friends before over the fact that I rule out guys who are shorter than 5'8", saying that I am being too selective and am passing up the right guy for me. But how is that a bad thing? Because I'm only 5' means that I was dealt the short guy card? I think not. I'm an independent woman but at the end of the day I want a guy who I can feel safe with and a guy close to my height just doesn't do that for me. Besides in the long term picture I want kids so one side of the gene pool better have some height so I don't have any midget kids.
4. Taking an off season from dating. While I wouldn't pass up a date with a guy I could be interested in I am not going to search high and low for said guy. If it happens, it happens but I'm done painstakingly picking out the perfect outfit every time I'm in public just in case there are cute guys around.
So far, so good. Though I'll be honest and say that I haven't had any opportunities to truly test the strength of my resolutions either. That being said, I still do, and always will, flirt. This is where Mime comes in - nicknamed such because he is all smiles and stares but is silent.
It all started out well enough, we noticed each other, he'd ogle and smile but would hardly say anything to me. As time progressed it became more frustrating that nothing was happening yet Mime always seemed happy to see me cracking a huge grin and not bothering to hide the fact that he kept looking at me. The few short conversations we had he didn't seem nervous so I couldn't chalk up the lack of behavior to him being shy.
Yet my gut told me that he, if not interested in a relationship, was at least attracted to me. Ask any woman what they think about a guy's intentions when they find a woman attractive and they'll all answer: "to get in her pants". And here Mime was seeming to be interested in me and not trying to get into my pants. Every encounter left me further confused... and questioning the intelligence of my gut instinct.
Aside from actually throwing myself on to him (and I mean that in the very literal sense) I did everything I thought that would flash the green light. I made sure to always look good when seeing him, I'd be all flirty smiles, I'd make sure to separate myself from others to provide him the opportunities to approach. Still, nothing other than smiles and ogling.
After 3 months Mime finally dropped a compliment, saying that I looked good coupling that with asking if I had a date later in the evening. Shocking! Yet that's all that ever happened. But I saw it as progress and figured I'd capitalize on it. After conferring with a few guy friends of mine to make sure my actions wouldn't be crossing the line of "confident flirt" into the realm of "crazy chick", I friended Mime online and dropped a very casual and breezy drink invite. Friend request was accepted, message was read, and..... that's it. Ok fine, perhaps in guy land my message wasn't viewed as needing a response other than in person.
I saw Mime the other night for the first time since I sent the message. I got the same big smile greeting. But no mention of my message. I then learned that it would be the last time I would see him as he was leaving NH on Monday. Too bad, but it happens. He was distracted, he barely talked to me. In the situation I totally understood. At the end of the night I very obviously lingered around waiting to say goodbye to Mime. It took awhile and he motioned to walk totally by me without saying anything. Again, how rude! I spoke up, said goodbye, wished him luck, and initiated the hug. The final words spoken by Mime? Telling me that if I found myself in the city he's in next to hit him up online. And then he left with nothing other than a smile.
So what gives? I make it easy for him, I lay the groundwork, all he has to do is say yes and show up... and yet... nothing happened. I'd rather think that he was completely and utterly intimidated by my beauty and charm than that I was totally off the mark in thinking that he was attracted to me.
In the end I guess I'll never know... and that is the most frustrating part of all.
1. No repeats... those who have seen me naked in the past will just have to rely on their memories from now on because I will not be going down the same road twice.
2. No sex... period. Like any bad habit that needs breaking a certain level of dedication is required. I haven't been with a decent guy in.... ever. Sorry boys, but it's true - none of you cared about me any further than the need to get in my pants. Which is rude, but truth be told... I wasn't really that in to any of you either. So until I can change my fishing skills I'll be throwing back the scrawny fish biding my time until I reel in the perfect catch.
3. Coming to terms with the fact that it's OK to be picky. There's a reason why people are selective and as long as it's all within reason, being picky is nothing other than a good thing. I've been ragged on by friends before over the fact that I rule out guys who are shorter than 5'8", saying that I am being too selective and am passing up the right guy for me. But how is that a bad thing? Because I'm only 5' means that I was dealt the short guy card? I think not. I'm an independent woman but at the end of the day I want a guy who I can feel safe with and a guy close to my height just doesn't do that for me. Besides in the long term picture I want kids so one side of the gene pool better have some height so I don't have any midget kids.
4. Taking an off season from dating. While I wouldn't pass up a date with a guy I could be interested in I am not going to search high and low for said guy. If it happens, it happens but I'm done painstakingly picking out the perfect outfit every time I'm in public just in case there are cute guys around.
So far, so good. Though I'll be honest and say that I haven't had any opportunities to truly test the strength of my resolutions either. That being said, I still do, and always will, flirt. This is where Mime comes in - nicknamed such because he is all smiles and stares but is silent.
It all started out well enough, we noticed each other, he'd ogle and smile but would hardly say anything to me. As time progressed it became more frustrating that nothing was happening yet Mime always seemed happy to see me cracking a huge grin and not bothering to hide the fact that he kept looking at me. The few short conversations we had he didn't seem nervous so I couldn't chalk up the lack of behavior to him being shy.
Yet my gut told me that he, if not interested in a relationship, was at least attracted to me. Ask any woman what they think about a guy's intentions when they find a woman attractive and they'll all answer: "to get in her pants". And here Mime was seeming to be interested in me and not trying to get into my pants. Every encounter left me further confused... and questioning the intelligence of my gut instinct.
Aside from actually throwing myself on to him (and I mean that in the very literal sense) I did everything I thought that would flash the green light. I made sure to always look good when seeing him, I'd be all flirty smiles, I'd make sure to separate myself from others to provide him the opportunities to approach. Still, nothing other than smiles and ogling.
After 3 months Mime finally dropped a compliment, saying that I looked good coupling that with asking if I had a date later in the evening. Shocking! Yet that's all that ever happened. But I saw it as progress and figured I'd capitalize on it. After conferring with a few guy friends of mine to make sure my actions wouldn't be crossing the line of "confident flirt" into the realm of "crazy chick", I friended Mime online and dropped a very casual and breezy drink invite. Friend request was accepted, message was read, and..... that's it. Ok fine, perhaps in guy land my message wasn't viewed as needing a response other than in person.
I saw Mime the other night for the first time since I sent the message. I got the same big smile greeting. But no mention of my message. I then learned that it would be the last time I would see him as he was leaving NH on Monday. Too bad, but it happens. He was distracted, he barely talked to me. In the situation I totally understood. At the end of the night I very obviously lingered around waiting to say goodbye to Mime. It took awhile and he motioned to walk totally by me without saying anything. Again, how rude! I spoke up, said goodbye, wished him luck, and initiated the hug. The final words spoken by Mime? Telling me that if I found myself in the city he's in next to hit him up online. And then he left with nothing other than a smile.
So what gives? I make it easy for him, I lay the groundwork, all he has to do is say yes and show up... and yet... nothing happened. I'd rather think that he was completely and utterly intimidated by my beauty and charm than that I was totally off the mark in thinking that he was attracted to me.
In the end I guess I'll never know... and that is the most frustrating part of all.
15 July 2008
You Are How You Camped
It's that time of year again, the time of year when children are packed up and shipped off to summer camp. Being the only child that I was, for whatever reason I was not subjected to the trials of being separated from my parents at a young age for months at a time. I did a few week long day camps over the years but nothing more than that.
However I believe I made up for it in the end after spending two summers working on a dude ranch that was a healthy mix of the movie, City Slickers, and the tv show, Hey Dude (with a little Real World minus the camera crew thrown in).
That being said, summer camp experiences and how you handled them as a child, set you up for the type of person you are going to be when you stop going to camp and school and start growing up. Right? Are you, in face, how you camped?
I cam across this article today and had to share. Not only is the subject matter amusing and thought provoking, but the writer's (Timothy Noah) got skills. I was cracking up. So sit back, relax, and enjoy: You Are How You Camped.
And feel free to share camp stories of your own, they may say more about who you are today than you think.
However I believe I made up for it in the end after spending two summers working on a dude ranch that was a healthy mix of the movie, City Slickers, and the tv show, Hey Dude (with a little Real World minus the camera crew thrown in).
That being said, summer camp experiences and how you handled them as a child, set you up for the type of person you are going to be when you stop going to camp and school and start growing up. Right? Are you, in face, how you camped?
I cam across this article today and had to share. Not only is the subject matter amusing and thought provoking, but the writer's (Timothy Noah) got skills. I was cracking up. So sit back, relax, and enjoy: You Are How You Camped.
And feel free to share camp stories of your own, they may say more about who you are today than you think.
11 July 2008
The Power of a Stranger's Kindness
This story truly brought tears to my eyes. Talk about fate.
It'll make me think the next time I see someone struggling in a task I could help them with instead of just driving by.
After all, life is about paying it forward.
I'll blog more on this later, but wanted to at least get the link to the article up before I went about my busy day totally forgetting about a story that touched my heart for the few minutes it took me to read it.
It'll make me think the next time I see someone struggling in a task I could help them with instead of just driving by.
After all, life is about paying it forward.
I'll blog more on this later, but wanted to at least get the link to the article up before I went about my busy day totally forgetting about a story that touched my heart for the few minutes it took me to read it.
03 July 2008
Big Brother's Watchful Eye
Just happened upon this article. While I know everything we do online is tracked, and that there's no such thing as privacy on the internet, this still disturbs me.
Usage of YouTube will be tracked.
Usage of YouTube will be tracked.
30 June 2008
Wisdom Within Naivety
I drive by your old apartment from time to time.
Manchester seemed so foreign to me then, the scary big city.
Now I realize just how small it truly is.
I was pure, untouched, and tired of being completely innocent.
You had a thing for girls like me, enjoyed showing us how.
Originally I said that I was waiting to be in love.
Good thing I cast my morals aside since love is still alluding me.
You were someone I convinced my young mind that I liked.
The truth was that I used you as much as you used me.
I may have been naive but I recognized the opportunity and seized it.
And why not? It made things far less confusing when no emotions were involved.
Yours was a willing body to use, mine fulfilled your interests as well.
Be it good or bad, it was nothing more.
Yet I drive by your old apartment and wonder if I was wise or naive with you.
Did I determine my future encounters with boys by giving it up so easily to you?
Would things have been different if I waited?
No regrets; a motto I try to live by.
It still hurts that I can run in to you years later and you barely can acknowledge me.
I drive by your old apartment from time to time
And wonder how things would have turned out had I said no.
Manchester seemed so foreign to me then, the scary big city.
Now I realize just how small it truly is.
I was pure, untouched, and tired of being completely innocent.
You had a thing for girls like me, enjoyed showing us how.
Originally I said that I was waiting to be in love.
Good thing I cast my morals aside since love is still alluding me.
You were someone I convinced my young mind that I liked.
The truth was that I used you as much as you used me.
I may have been naive but I recognized the opportunity and seized it.
And why not? It made things far less confusing when no emotions were involved.
Yours was a willing body to use, mine fulfilled your interests as well.
Be it good or bad, it was nothing more.
Yet I drive by your old apartment and wonder if I was wise or naive with you.
Did I determine my future encounters with boys by giving it up so easily to you?
Would things have been different if I waited?
No regrets; a motto I try to live by.
It still hurts that I can run in to you years later and you barely can acknowledge me.
I drive by your old apartment from time to time
And wonder how things would have turned out had I said no.
24 June 2008
Hope You Can Swim
Just like racial slurs and jokes are more acceptable when used by someone of that race/religion/stereotype I believe that since I am a klutz I can laugh at other people's non-graceful moments without being a bad person.
This brings me to one of my favorite shows. It's not one to make it on my DVR record list, but when I'm feeling down or in need of a side splitting laugh I'll put it on. The show is non other than MXC. While the dubbed commentary is priceless what makes the show for me are the actual contestants and the obstacles that cause them to fall in grotesque ways.
And now there is an American version that premiered on ABC tonight. While not as clever as MXC and clearly a rip off of it, I can see Wipeout becoming a favorite of mine.
Seeing people compete for money in ridiculous stunts (hello trying to run over large rolling foam logs or jumping on big red bouncy balls over a body of water, yeah that's normal) is physical comedy at its best. Love it! Shit like this makes me laugh until I cry - and that's one of the best feelings in the world.
As I type I'm watching I Survived A Japanese Game Show, I have high hopes for this show as well. Though 10 min in the contestants are already bugging me. Once they get to the game show part of it I think it'll be better. Come on grown men dressed as babies spinning around in circles? Priceless.
American game shows should have had contests like this years ago... sure the 80s American Gladiators kicked serious ass, still does, but that's for athletes and rarely made me laugh. Bring on the Japanese inspired game shows! Because after all, isn't laughter the best medicine?
This brings me to one of my favorite shows. It's not one to make it on my DVR record list, but when I'm feeling down or in need of a side splitting laugh I'll put it on. The show is non other than MXC. While the dubbed commentary is priceless what makes the show for me are the actual contestants and the obstacles that cause them to fall in grotesque ways.
And now there is an American version that premiered on ABC tonight. While not as clever as MXC and clearly a rip off of it, I can see Wipeout becoming a favorite of mine.
Seeing people compete for money in ridiculous stunts (hello trying to run over large rolling foam logs or jumping on big red bouncy balls over a body of water, yeah that's normal) is physical comedy at its best. Love it! Shit like this makes me laugh until I cry - and that's one of the best feelings in the world.
As I type I'm watching I Survived A Japanese Game Show, I have high hopes for this show as well. Though 10 min in the contestants are already bugging me. Once they get to the game show part of it I think it'll be better. Come on grown men dressed as babies spinning around in circles? Priceless.
American game shows should have had contests like this years ago... sure the 80s American Gladiators kicked serious ass, still does, but that's for athletes and rarely made me laugh. Bring on the Japanese inspired game shows! Because after all, isn't laughter the best medicine?
23 June 2008
Single and Fabulous_ [punctuation debatable]
While I may be very biased, I truly believe that my female friends and I are a bunch of gorgeous, intelligent women who just happen to be single. But as the years progress and we're still single I can't help but wonder... are we "single and fabulous!" or "single and fabulous?" That one little mark of punctuation speaks volumes.
I know a boy who never had any game, overall he's not a catch, and in fact on many occasions I felt the urge to knee him in the crotch as he invaded my personal space one too many times to make stupid comments. Yet he's been dating a woman (as equally not a catch as him) for over a year now. They seem happy - great for them; but as I looked at photos of them posted happily on his myspace I had to wonder, where's the fairness in that?
Why am I ('cause let's face it, I'm an only child so my plight is far more dire and important than those of my friends) and my friends unable to find decent men? Sure I'm picky, but over things I truly don't think should rule out all available men.
How is it possible that the non-catches are able to become a couple with their perfect match while the single and fabulous women I know are left without even a Friday night date?
Perhaps delving into the Pandora's box that is that question requires a large bottle of wine, dim lighting, and Joni Mitchell.
I know a boy who never had any game, overall he's not a catch, and in fact on many occasions I felt the urge to knee him in the crotch as he invaded my personal space one too many times to make stupid comments. Yet he's been dating a woman (as equally not a catch as him) for over a year now. They seem happy - great for them; but as I looked at photos of them posted happily on his myspace I had to wonder, where's the fairness in that?
Why am I ('cause let's face it, I'm an only child so my plight is far more dire and important than those of my friends) and my friends unable to find decent men? Sure I'm picky, but over things I truly don't think should rule out all available men.
How is it possible that the non-catches are able to become a couple with their perfect match while the single and fabulous women I know are left without even a Friday night date?
Perhaps delving into the Pandora's box that is that question requires a large bottle of wine, dim lighting, and Joni Mitchell.
01 June 2008
A Little Bit of City and a Whole Lot of Sex
I began watching Sex and the City long after the series ended, and even then was confined to the edited episodes on basic cable. This doesn't mean that I did not feel a profound connection with the characters. Most episodes left me with the yearning to write for more than just my own personal enjoyment; to be my own version of a Carrie Bradshaw.
In every woman there is a little bit of each of the S&TC girls in them and in the end all we can hope for is to be lucky enough to have friendships like theirs. Sure, I have close friends... but I don't have a core group like those four women. Forging friendships in your twenties is tough. You are out of the social heaven that is college, and odds are you are younger than many of your coworkers. Like Carrie said in the movie, your twenties are your time to test your wings and make mistakes. Personally, I have done a lot of growing up the last couple of years... but I have a lot more growing to still do before I will be content with who I am as a person.
The movie was perfect exactly how it was. I laughed, I cried, I was shocked and angry, happy and sad. It also made me reflect on my life so far. I also thought that it was ironically fitting that my run to Target post-movie ended up with me buying a pair of shoes that I hadn't planned on. After all, the two L's are what every young woman is looking for: Labels and Love. I have control over the first, I can seek out the stores to shop in, buy the products I want. Love is a far more fickle beast that changes over time. Love in high school is different from love in college. Love post-college is another beast as well. Some people get married, some have children, others sleep around racking up the notches on their bed post, while others still end up in love purgatory. A place where your intentions are true but you set yourself up for failure with your executions.
At the end of the day though, it's no longer about being with the hottest guy/girl in the city; but about being with the one who can make you laugh... well and a great pair of shoes.
In every woman there is a little bit of each of the S&TC girls in them and in the end all we can hope for is to be lucky enough to have friendships like theirs. Sure, I have close friends... but I don't have a core group like those four women. Forging friendships in your twenties is tough. You are out of the social heaven that is college, and odds are you are younger than many of your coworkers. Like Carrie said in the movie, your twenties are your time to test your wings and make mistakes. Personally, I have done a lot of growing up the last couple of years... but I have a lot more growing to still do before I will be content with who I am as a person.
The movie was perfect exactly how it was. I laughed, I cried, I was shocked and angry, happy and sad. It also made me reflect on my life so far. I also thought that it was ironically fitting that my run to Target post-movie ended up with me buying a pair of shoes that I hadn't planned on. After all, the two L's are what every young woman is looking for: Labels and Love. I have control over the first, I can seek out the stores to shop in, buy the products I want. Love is a far more fickle beast that changes over time. Love in high school is different from love in college. Love post-college is another beast as well. Some people get married, some have children, others sleep around racking up the notches on their bed post, while others still end up in love purgatory. A place where your intentions are true but you set yourself up for failure with your executions.
At the end of the day though, it's no longer about being with the hottest guy/girl in the city; but about being with the one who can make you laugh... well and a great pair of shoes.
26 May 2008
The female version of Chuck?
Granted, I've never actually seen the movie. But the premise of Good Luck Chuck, is a man who somehow has the luck of being the last guy a girl sleeps with before she finds "the one". The catch is, that he isn't "the one" for any of them.
A friend of mine once commented how I have a true talent in pushing guys in to serious relationships.... with other women. Does that in some way make me a Yenta? Not that I introduce the guys to the women they are currently with, but perhaps they wouldn't have chose them had they not been with me first. Maybe I should start charging for this service... wait, money in exchange for sex would make me a hooker. Somehow I don't see a Pretty Woman ending should I go down that road.
Logical minds would say that this is all just a coincidence, that my only role in the equation is my exit. That they could have easily have found their current girl any time after sleeping with any other girl. But I have my doubts and when has anyone known me to be truly logical.
Case in point:
The First... he married the girl after me. I think they are divorced now but that has all to do with his true character of being a cheater than anything else.
The Cowboy... after I left for Europe he began a serious relationship with another staff member that carried over at least to the next summer.
Another has bought a house with his current girlfriend, which I can assume will lead to marriage.
Mr. Dishonesty is living with his current girlfriend and their wedding announcement was featured in a good friend's nightmare that could turn in to reality.
And now, The Wanderer is in love... though I'm guessing he has been for awhile. I wish him nothing but the best. But that at least puts a possible sequel to the weekend we had on hold. And causes me to be embarrassed over an email I sent out while giggly off wine. Does that mean Benedick is next? (Maybe he already has someone seeing as how he's gone totally MIA from my life).
It makes me have to question what it is about me or maybe more appropriate, about being with me that allows these guys to walk away from me to find the women they want to be with. While I will readily admit that none of them are my "one", I'm generally left confused as to the choice they made. Thanks to myspace I have photo confirmation that at least looks wise none of them traded up. I'm no Jessica Alba, but I think I have the upper-hand when it comes to attractiveness on most of them. And since most days I don't like looking at my own reflection that comment is totally not said in any conceited manner. If they had traded up, well then good for them... but if they didn't? I can't reason out why they would prefer to be with someone mediocre rather than me. Sure I'm neurotic, stubborn, emotional, and a little crazy - but that just means I'll keep things interesting.
The fact of the matter is that I don't want to be with any of them either - and I guarantee my feelings of not wanting to be with them are far stronger than their feelings towards me. Yet they left me to find someone else while I stay single... at least until the next guy comes along who I can help with finding the girl they truly want to be with. It's a little bit ironic, don't you think? If it happened once, OK. Twice, that's an odd coincidence, but to have 4 guys I got to know intimately move on to become completely serious with the girl right after me? That's more than a coincidence. And since I rarely keep in touch with guys I've slept with, there could be more than 4 of them with their right after Red girl. (And this is the closest I will also get to announcing my number on a public forum).
All of this has reaffirmed my current choice of being celibate. Sure George Michael once sang that "sex is natural, sex is good." But I'm done with serving a purpose only to be cast aside. Sex for sex's sake is vacant and of no interest to me. I'm holding out for the za za zoo.
I was told once by one of them how amazed they were that I could be so frank and honest with myself about my faults. That I had a distinct ability to reflect on who I am in a disengaged sort of way. At the time I took it as a compliment... but maybe it wasn't. The thing is, a lot of my faults I like to think of as quirks. They are also aspects of my personality that I cannot change as much as I would love to. I will always be a blusher, and I will always cry easily. I may have faults, but at least I am honest about who I am to those in my life, which is better than the majority of people can say.
But that's a tangent best saved for another rainy day.
A friend of mine once commented how I have a true talent in pushing guys in to serious relationships.... with other women. Does that in some way make me a Yenta? Not that I introduce the guys to the women they are currently with, but perhaps they wouldn't have chose them had they not been with me first. Maybe I should start charging for this service... wait, money in exchange for sex would make me a hooker. Somehow I don't see a Pretty Woman ending should I go down that road.
Logical minds would say that this is all just a coincidence, that my only role in the equation is my exit. That they could have easily have found their current girl any time after sleeping with any other girl. But I have my doubts and when has anyone known me to be truly logical.
Case in point:
The First... he married the girl after me. I think they are divorced now but that has all to do with his true character of being a cheater than anything else.
The Cowboy... after I left for Europe he began a serious relationship with another staff member that carried over at least to the next summer.
Another has bought a house with his current girlfriend, which I can assume will lead to marriage.
Mr. Dishonesty is living with his current girlfriend and their wedding announcement was featured in a good friend's nightmare that could turn in to reality.
And now, The Wanderer is in love... though I'm guessing he has been for awhile. I wish him nothing but the best. But that at least puts a possible sequel to the weekend we had on hold. And causes me to be embarrassed over an email I sent out while giggly off wine. Does that mean Benedick is next? (Maybe he already has someone seeing as how he's gone totally MIA from my life).
It makes me have to question what it is about me or maybe more appropriate, about being with me that allows these guys to walk away from me to find the women they want to be with. While I will readily admit that none of them are my "one", I'm generally left confused as to the choice they made. Thanks to myspace I have photo confirmation that at least looks wise none of them traded up. I'm no Jessica Alba, but I think I have the upper-hand when it comes to attractiveness on most of them. And since most days I don't like looking at my own reflection that comment is totally not said in any conceited manner. If they had traded up, well then good for them... but if they didn't? I can't reason out why they would prefer to be with someone mediocre rather than me. Sure I'm neurotic, stubborn, emotional, and a little crazy - but that just means I'll keep things interesting.
The fact of the matter is that I don't want to be with any of them either - and I guarantee my feelings of not wanting to be with them are far stronger than their feelings towards me. Yet they left me to find someone else while I stay single... at least until the next guy comes along who I can help with finding the girl they truly want to be with. It's a little bit ironic, don't you think? If it happened once, OK. Twice, that's an odd coincidence, but to have 4 guys I got to know intimately move on to become completely serious with the girl right after me? That's more than a coincidence. And since I rarely keep in touch with guys I've slept with, there could be more than 4 of them with their right after Red girl. (And this is the closest I will also get to announcing my number on a public forum).
All of this has reaffirmed my current choice of being celibate. Sure George Michael once sang that "sex is natural, sex is good." But I'm done with serving a purpose only to be cast aside. Sex for sex's sake is vacant and of no interest to me. I'm holding out for the za za zoo.
I was told once by one of them how amazed they were that I could be so frank and honest with myself about my faults. That I had a distinct ability to reflect on who I am in a disengaged sort of way. At the time I took it as a compliment... but maybe it wasn't. The thing is, a lot of my faults I like to think of as quirks. They are also aspects of my personality that I cannot change as much as I would love to. I will always be a blusher, and I will always cry easily. I may have faults, but at least I am honest about who I am to those in my life, which is better than the majority of people can say.
But that's a tangent best saved for another rainy day.
12 May 2008
The Road Less Travelled...
With gas prices skyrocketing, most people travel from point A to point B the shortest/fastest way possible with no details. Generally I would agree, however I have a wanderers soul that takes over every once in awhile. That happened today while on my way to Mom's.
I decided to pick up the highway a different way than normal, which turned out to not work since it put me on to 101 instead of 93N. I detoured but wasn't paying attention and ended up missing my chance to get on 93, but saw a bunch of trucks going straight and figured where trucks go there is generally another route to the highway.
My detour took me on the 28 bypass, the compass in my car told me I was heading North so even though I didn't know where I was, I knew I was going the right direction since Concord is North of Manchester. After awhile I started to see signs pointing me towards Concord - yay me!
The best part of taking new routes is that you of course, see new sites. I went through some very run down areas of NH with house after house falling apart around those living in them. I also saw some amazingly kept up antique houses that I would kill to see the inside of - a "if these walls could only talk" moment.
I always think of myself as someone who has no sense of direction, but when I wind up in situations like the one today, I end up getting to where I am supposed to be. I guess I don't give myself enough credit.
My impromptu road trip made realize how much I miss the open road. Some day I will drive fully across country and back. There's so much Americana to see off the beaten path, so many roads that have stories to tell... and sooner or later I'll see all of it.
I decided to pick up the highway a different way than normal, which turned out to not work since it put me on to 101 instead of 93N. I detoured but wasn't paying attention and ended up missing my chance to get on 93, but saw a bunch of trucks going straight and figured where trucks go there is generally another route to the highway.
My detour took me on the 28 bypass, the compass in my car told me I was heading North so even though I didn't know where I was, I knew I was going the right direction since Concord is North of Manchester. After awhile I started to see signs pointing me towards Concord - yay me!
The best part of taking new routes is that you of course, see new sites. I went through some very run down areas of NH with house after house falling apart around those living in them. I also saw some amazingly kept up antique houses that I would kill to see the inside of - a "if these walls could only talk" moment.
I always think of myself as someone who has no sense of direction, but when I wind up in situations like the one today, I end up getting to where I am supposed to be. I guess I don't give myself enough credit.
My impromptu road trip made realize how much I miss the open road. Some day I will drive fully across country and back. There's so much Americana to see off the beaten path, so many roads that have stories to tell... and sooner or later I'll see all of it.
28 April 2008
Little Miss Obsessive
A lot of things have happened this month, I've had a handful of "I should blog about this!" moments that I never seem to have the ability to actually do so once I sit down to write. Rainy days off make me reflective so I thought I would sit down, catch up on some TV while I'm at it, and put together a summary of end of the month thoughts. There will be no rhyme or reason to them, no pecking order, just things that have been mulling over in my mind as of late.
~ Lost is back on yay! Let the mind-fuck continue. I have a growing crush on Daniel Faraday (played by Jeremy Davies). Daniel's (yes, the character) the type of guy you'd see at a bar but not notice, until he gathers up the courage to talk to you and then his brilliance and social awkwardness make you start to be smitten.
~ Grey's Anatomy is now also back on but I can't get in to this season, the show has lost it's charm and that's sad. I still say I'm pulling an Izzie though when I bake to de-stress.
~ I've actually been reading more, thank you temp jobs that give you no work other than "answer the phone when it rings" (and is rarely does. I missed books, I missed curling up with a mug of chai, wrapping myself in a blanket and losing myself in another world. I wish I could be a writer, but sadly it is a talent you either possess or don't, and while I'm not shite, I'm also not brilliant.
~ I love the way the Brits say things. Even ignoring the accent, instead of saying something is amazing they'll say it's brilliant. It sounds so much better. This is brought back to the surface because of The Bachelor: London Calling - he keeps saying things are brilliant, and that he's gutted. I eat it up - doesn't hurt that he's hot and funny and interesting. I wonder how far I'd make it if I was on the Bachelor. While I'm lonely, have I reached that point where I need to try reality dating shows? I could see myself as the Bachelorette, but would totally need the help of some of my "peeps" to help me through the process of choosing a guy that would be right for me.
~ States should not be allowed to do construction on the highways during daylight hours... period. My 12 mile commute home takes way too long because traffic is backed up. It's annoying and makes my road rage temper flare. Why can't they do the work needed on the highways when less cars are on the road? Pay a little extra and save people the hassle of another factor in making a person's drive horrible.
~ I don't care what people say, Walking with the Dinosaurs is kick ass. I loved being able to see it, and I am blown away by the technology used to make them. Yeah ok you could see the people's legs or the larger dinos were on platforms, but that aside, they looked REAL. If I had kids I totally would have taken them.
~ I miss working for a sports team. I feel like I was part of a well fraternity and then got kicked out so now I'm looking at it from the outside. I don't think I'd ever actually go back to working for a team, but I miss being a part of the entertainment industry. I also miss the neediness of season ticket holders because I felt like I mattered. That being said, I'm loving watching the run for the Stanley Cup, the match ups have been great so far and I cannot wait to see how they play out. Instead of backing a certain team (since mine has hit the links) I've decided to just hope for a great final series. I want a great battle for the cup, something to end the season on a high note and make the time between now and Oct not drag on.
~ For one small person I certainly produce a lot of dirty clothes, I feel like I'm always doing laundry. I hate folding clothes and putting them away. Almost as much as I hate doing dishes.
~ Why are all the shows I watch no on Monday nights? Seriously 50% of the shows on my DVR season recording setting are now on Mondays. Which means I have to miss some of them. It also means I can't watch hockey tonight.
~ I'm starting to become an Ashlee Simpson fan. Her song, "Little Miss Obsessive" is on the top of my current play list.
"Late night you make me feel like I'm desperate, I'm not desperate.
Oh, a little bit possessive, little miss obsessive, can't get over it."
On that note, I met a boy at a bar a couple weeks ago and gave him my number. But I'm judging a book by its cover and I feel like I'm not going to even give him a chance. I know I should, but I want the fairy tale unrealistic love at first sight. No nickname for him yet since who knows if he'll actually walk in to the picture or not.
~ I feel like 2008 is going to be my growing up year. I've been doing a lot of growing up lately.
~ Lost is back on yay! Let the mind-fuck continue. I have a growing crush on Daniel Faraday (played by Jeremy Davies). Daniel's (yes, the character) the type of guy you'd see at a bar but not notice, until he gathers up the courage to talk to you and then his brilliance and social awkwardness make you start to be smitten.
~ Grey's Anatomy is now also back on but I can't get in to this season, the show has lost it's charm and that's sad. I still say I'm pulling an Izzie though when I bake to de-stress.
~ I've actually been reading more, thank you temp jobs that give you no work other than "answer the phone when it rings" (and is rarely does. I missed books, I missed curling up with a mug of chai, wrapping myself in a blanket and losing myself in another world. I wish I could be a writer, but sadly it is a talent you either possess or don't, and while I'm not shite, I'm also not brilliant.
~ I love the way the Brits say things. Even ignoring the accent, instead of saying something is amazing they'll say it's brilliant. It sounds so much better. This is brought back to the surface because of The Bachelor: London Calling - he keeps saying things are brilliant, and that he's gutted. I eat it up - doesn't hurt that he's hot and funny and interesting. I wonder how far I'd make it if I was on the Bachelor. While I'm lonely, have I reached that point where I need to try reality dating shows? I could see myself as the Bachelorette, but would totally need the help of some of my "peeps" to help me through the process of choosing a guy that would be right for me.
~ States should not be allowed to do construction on the highways during daylight hours... period. My 12 mile commute home takes way too long because traffic is backed up. It's annoying and makes my road rage temper flare. Why can't they do the work needed on the highways when less cars are on the road? Pay a little extra and save people the hassle of another factor in making a person's drive horrible.
~ I don't care what people say, Walking with the Dinosaurs is kick ass. I loved being able to see it, and I am blown away by the technology used to make them. Yeah ok you could see the people's legs or the larger dinos were on platforms, but that aside, they looked REAL. If I had kids I totally would have taken them.
~ I miss working for a sports team. I feel like I was part of a well fraternity and then got kicked out so now I'm looking at it from the outside. I don't think I'd ever actually go back to working for a team, but I miss being a part of the entertainment industry. I also miss the neediness of season ticket holders because I felt like I mattered. That being said, I'm loving watching the run for the Stanley Cup, the match ups have been great so far and I cannot wait to see how they play out. Instead of backing a certain team (since mine has hit the links) I've decided to just hope for a great final series. I want a great battle for the cup, something to end the season on a high note and make the time between now and Oct not drag on.
~ For one small person I certainly produce a lot of dirty clothes, I feel like I'm always doing laundry. I hate folding clothes and putting them away. Almost as much as I hate doing dishes.
~ Why are all the shows I watch no on Monday nights? Seriously 50% of the shows on my DVR season recording setting are now on Mondays. Which means I have to miss some of them. It also means I can't watch hockey tonight.
~ I'm starting to become an Ashlee Simpson fan. Her song, "Little Miss Obsessive" is on the top of my current play list.
Oh, a little bit possessive, little miss obsessive, can't get over it."
On that note, I met a boy at a bar a couple weeks ago and gave him my number. But I'm judging a book by its cover and I feel like I'm not going to even give him a chance. I know I should, but I want the fairy tale unrealistic love at first sight. No nickname for him yet since who knows if he'll actually walk in to the picture or not.
~ I feel like 2008 is going to be my growing up year. I've been doing a lot of growing up lately.
24 April 2008
A Snapshot of Me
So work has asked each employee to come up with 40 songs to be put on the company iPod to be played during the day. Sounds easy right? Ha! I feel like it is almost impossible to sum myself up in under 40 songs. But that the task calls for just that... what is on my playlist will play like a online dating website bio. People are going to judge me by the songs I list... or scratch their head not recognizing the names on my playlist.
I've barely touched my music collection and I'm well over the 40 spots I'm alloted. (Though I guarantee you I'll be sneaking in more songs than 40). It's tough, one because my choices need to be appropriate and appealing to more than just myself. Because of this I have decided to go the route of lesser known musicians that need some love. I have 5 local artists on my list that I bet no one has heard of unless you've had to listen to me gush about them.
There will be some hits ("Ain't no Sunshine" 'cause I love me some Bill Withers... Nason shush, I know, I know, me and my "depressing" music). :-) But for the most part I'm trying to fill my list with new music to the salon. Since I also have to make sure there's no inappropriate language in the song I've ended up listening to a lot of them from start to finish. Now it's a little past 1 in the morning and I have a 12 hour work day ahead of me tomorrow. Oops. Getting back in to this whole working full time schedule is rough after not being exposed to it for so long.
Any song suggestions of what you would like to listen to while getting your hair done?
I've barely touched my music collection and I'm well over the 40 spots I'm alloted. (Though I guarantee you I'll be sneaking in more songs than 40). It's tough, one because my choices need to be appropriate and appealing to more than just myself. Because of this I have decided to go the route of lesser known musicians that need some love. I have 5 local artists on my list that I bet no one has heard of unless you've had to listen to me gush about them.
There will be some hits ("Ain't no Sunshine" 'cause I love me some Bill Withers... Nason shush, I know, I know, me and my "depressing" music). :-) But for the most part I'm trying to fill my list with new music to the salon. Since I also have to make sure there's no inappropriate language in the song I've ended up listening to a lot of them from start to finish. Now it's a little past 1 in the morning and I have a 12 hour work day ahead of me tomorrow. Oops. Getting back in to this whole working full time schedule is rough after not being exposed to it for so long.
Any song suggestions of what you would like to listen to while getting your hair done?
22 April 2008
Ring of Fire
Perhaps it is because I have never experienced the excitement of a championship win, though Buffalo has been close in the past. Or maybe my status as a true hockey fan should be questioned because I am fairly certain that when the Sabres hoist the Cup (yes I said when, it'll happen) I will feel no urge to light a car on fire.
I get that the city gets excited and generally those celebrating in the streets were drinking beers throughout the game so their ability to make smart choices is throughly impaired. But seriously? What does breaking store windows, starting fires, tipping cars, and getting in to fights really have to do with your team winning? It's Neanderthal behavior plain and simple.
While this goes for all sports I'm currently talking about Montreal. Sure the Habs squeaked out a win against Boston that many hockey fans thought would have been an easy series victory. Yay, exciting! Did someone forget to mention to Habs fans that this was just the first round of the playoffs? Even more importantly is the fact that they will face a tough competitor in the Flyers who are coming off of a fairly one sided series win against Washington that was decided tonight.
It does your team's victory injustice to go about vandalizing the home city. I'll go so far as to say that those doing the vandalizing are not true fans of the sport. Or at least I'm determined to think that true fans would celebrate in a less destructive way.
I get that the city gets excited and generally those celebrating in the streets were drinking beers throughout the game so their ability to make smart choices is throughly impaired. But seriously? What does breaking store windows, starting fires, tipping cars, and getting in to fights really have to do with your team winning? It's Neanderthal behavior plain and simple.
While this goes for all sports I'm currently talking about Montreal. Sure the Habs squeaked out a win against Boston that many hockey fans thought would have been an easy series victory. Yay, exciting! Did someone forget to mention to Habs fans that this was just the first round of the playoffs? Even more importantly is the fact that they will face a tough competitor in the Flyers who are coming off of a fairly one sided series win against Washington that was decided tonight.
It does your team's victory injustice to go about vandalizing the home city. I'll go so far as to say that those doing the vandalizing are not true fans of the sport. Or at least I'm determined to think that true fans would celebrate in a less destructive way.
18 March 2008
There was laughter here...
I have the laugh lines of my mother.
Crinkles around the eyes that, like an explorer's flag being thrust into the ground
Bear witness that there was laughter here.
I cannot deny the marks left behind
From gleeful moments of smiles and giggles.
Yet many times I find it hard to recall those times.
Were they that long ago?
There was laughter here.
And it has quietly snuck out the back door.
No, there IS laughter here.
Each day is a new day and I can start over.
Let the laugh lines flourish and the frown lines stay at bay for another day.
Crinkles around the eyes that, like an explorer's flag being thrust into the ground
Bear witness that there was laughter here.
I cannot deny the marks left behind
From gleeful moments of smiles and giggles.
Yet many times I find it hard to recall those times.
Were they that long ago?
There was laughter here.
And it has quietly snuck out the back door.
No, there IS laughter here.
Each day is a new day and I can start over.
Let the laugh lines flourish and the frown lines stay at bay for another day.
28 February 2008
"Thanks, but no thanks."
I am humbled.
Life has shaken me to my very core with humility.
With doubt.
I have been measured and found to be lacking.
Lacking in what? Ah, therein lies the rub.
I don’t know, for there is not much to gather from four simple words.
“Thanks, but no thanks.”
These words are my Achilles heel. My Kryptonite.
It has been over a month now and I risk losing everything.
Everything I foolishly bought that has become the monkey on my back.
The weight that makes climbing out of the hole I’m in almost impossible.
Still, my place, my possessions, are all I have - there is no dignity left to be had.
Yet material possessions do not fill voids they can only mask them.
At what point in my life did I veer so off course?
There are no positives, only negatives.
My life has become a black hole, a void that is gapingly empty.
Every way I turn there are holes.
Like fishnet stockings held together only by the thinnest of threads.
Fast friendships have dissolved, employment has dissolved, love life? D.O.A.
The latter because I was foolish enough to mistake the B.S. for truth.
Like Robert Johnson, I stand before a crossroad.
Do I too sell my soul to the Devil for unworldly talents?
People want me to be little miss Susie sunshine so I put on a brave face.
It’s enough to win me an Oscar.
The strong arms of a lover, a shoulder to cry on, someone to take care of you.
A perfect job that is your calling to throw yourself into to forget the rest.
These tangible comforts solve the world’s problems.
I have neither job, nor lover and am left to defend the demons at the door on my own.
To stay positive one has to be getting SOMETHING back.
One aspect of a person’s life needs to be above mediocre.
Damnit I AM more than mediocre! So why isn’t my life fabulous?
Why is the wolf at my door threatening me with my utter destruction?
Life has shaken me to my very core with humility.
With doubt.
I have been measured and found to be lacking.
Lacking in what? Ah, therein lies the rub.
I don’t know, for there is not much to gather from four simple words.
“Thanks, but no thanks.”
These words are my Achilles heel. My Kryptonite.
It has been over a month now and I risk losing everything.
Everything I foolishly bought that has become the monkey on my back.
The weight that makes climbing out of the hole I’m in almost impossible.
Still, my place, my possessions, are all I have - there is no dignity left to be had.
Yet material possessions do not fill voids they can only mask them.
At what point in my life did I veer so off course?
There are no positives, only negatives.
My life has become a black hole, a void that is gapingly empty.
Every way I turn there are holes.
Like fishnet stockings held together only by the thinnest of threads.
Fast friendships have dissolved, employment has dissolved, love life? D.O.A.
The latter because I was foolish enough to mistake the B.S. for truth.
Like Robert Johnson, I stand before a crossroad.
Do I too sell my soul to the Devil for unworldly talents?
People want me to be little miss Susie sunshine so I put on a brave face.
It’s enough to win me an Oscar.
The strong arms of a lover, a shoulder to cry on, someone to take care of you.
A perfect job that is your calling to throw yourself into to forget the rest.
These tangible comforts solve the world’s problems.
I have neither job, nor lover and am left to defend the demons at the door on my own.
To stay positive one has to be getting SOMETHING back.
One aspect of a person’s life needs to be above mediocre.
Damnit I AM more than mediocre! So why isn’t my life fabulous?
Why is the wolf at my door threatening me with my utter destruction?
13 February 2008
"It don't take a word/Not a single word/Go on and kiss the girl"
There's a moment that every person experiences at least once in their life. That moment when you are talking to someone and you get the feeling they are thinking about kissing you, that they want to kiss you. The air becomes electrically charged, your heart starts to race, and you start to wonder if they'll make the move or if you should. I love that moment, it's one of the most exciting things about meeting someone new, the anticipation of the first kiss. It can also be the most frustrating when you're feeling that vibe but nothing happens.
I'm a firm believer that the guy needs to always make the first move (first kiss, asking out first, initiate sex first)... once the first time is over then it's all on the table, but that first move needs to be made by the guy. Call me old fashioned but I don't think I'm scary, the dude has to be able to gather up enough courage to take the risk, I like to believe I make it very obvious if I'm attracted to someone. If they can't muster up the guts to make that move what else will they wuss out on later?
The problem with that "he wants to kiss me" vibe is that if he doesn't make the move a girl is left wondering if she made it up all in her head or not.
It's annoying.
I'm a firm believer that the guy needs to always make the first move (first kiss, asking out first, initiate sex first)... once the first time is over then it's all on the table, but that first move needs to be made by the guy. Call me old fashioned but I don't think I'm scary, the dude has to be able to gather up enough courage to take the risk, I like to believe I make it very obvious if I'm attracted to someone. If they can't muster up the guts to make that move what else will they wuss out on later?
The problem with that "he wants to kiss me" vibe is that if he doesn't make the move a girl is left wondering if she made it up all in her head or not.
It's annoying.
07 February 2008
Fading Away
I have spent too much time with myself as of late; lost in my own personal nightmare. Like Alice, I have fallen down the rabbit hole and have found myself in a topsy-turvy world.
There is nothing like a job search to shake your self-confidence to its very core. I think I've applied to over 80 jobs the last couple of weeks, I've had one interview that led to nothing, and other than that no one is biting. It looks like I could lose all the ground I have gained over this past year of breaking my back to pay off my stupidities. Question is, where to go from here? Am I really that undesirable as a worker that I can be let go out of the blue with a flick of the wrist like I'm a fly to be swatted away? My work experiences count for something, but so far they have done nothing for me. No one wants to hire me, am I that deficient in work now like I am in relationships? Is it a reflection on myself or on them that I was let go?
How does one become a hooker? I've done the whole sex without emotion thing for years... why not do it again but get paid for it? I wonder what my going rate is, what am I worth for a night? If only the stories told in movies were true, I too could be taken off the streets by a handsome bachelor who doesn't know how to drive a stick shift sports car and given the good life on a silver platter. That's the thing about movies, they're just that. In real life Julia Roberts wouldn't be a hooker nor would Richard Gere be there, falling in love with a girl from the streets and wanting to bring her in to his rich world.
And if not a hooker, how about pulling an Anna Nicole Smith and marrying an old man who will leave me everything in his will as I swear that it was real love despite the age difference. Great in theory but like the above... I'm at a lack of ideas on how to go about this scheme.
I feel like I have been locked in solitary confinement left alone with my mind that is screaming in frustration about how I am going to manage to pay my bills at the end of the month let alone March and on without any job leads or promises. I guess I learned the hard lesson that sweet talk and a picture painted that sounded too good to be true was just that... false promises and I'm the fool to have left a job for them. One of my good friends keeps telling me I need to stop the negative energy, if I think positively good things will happen, but how can one not be negative about this situation?
A reader called for an update on my life but unfortunately I have nothing to update. My life consists of spending hours on my computer looking at any and every job posting web site I can think of and applying for jobs, whoring myself out to pimps who keep turning their backs on me, not wanting me to become part of their stock. I felt guilty spending the $20 including tip today getting my hair cut, I haven't gone out in I don't know how long, I have friend in various cities calling for me to visit and I don't even see a near future opportunity when that can happen. Life costs money, breathing costs money - money I no longer have.
Goldberg is gone, after making a midnight escape from my apt (more or less), I have not heard from him since. Benedick is... Benedick. I need that man in my life right now so badly it hurts, someone to take charge... make me feel safe and that everything will be ok, someone to take my mind off all my worries at night so that I can finally get some sleep. But like always, he ain't there so I am left to take care of myself further shutting myself off from the world.
I feel so lost, in a little over a week I'll be 27...27 years old and what do I have to show for it? Not much, I have so much love to give and no one to give it to. It's been a crazy year so far, so much has changed and yet so much has stayed the same. It's really kind of sad.
There is nothing like a job search to shake your self-confidence to its very core. I think I've applied to over 80 jobs the last couple of weeks, I've had one interview that led to nothing, and other than that no one is biting. It looks like I could lose all the ground I have gained over this past year of breaking my back to pay off my stupidities. Question is, where to go from here? Am I really that undesirable as a worker that I can be let go out of the blue with a flick of the wrist like I'm a fly to be swatted away? My work experiences count for something, but so far they have done nothing for me. No one wants to hire me, am I that deficient in work now like I am in relationships? Is it a reflection on myself or on them that I was let go?
How does one become a hooker? I've done the whole sex without emotion thing for years... why not do it again but get paid for it? I wonder what my going rate is, what am I worth for a night? If only the stories told in movies were true, I too could be taken off the streets by a handsome bachelor who doesn't know how to drive a stick shift sports car and given the good life on a silver platter. That's the thing about movies, they're just that. In real life Julia Roberts wouldn't be a hooker nor would Richard Gere be there, falling in love with a girl from the streets and wanting to bring her in to his rich world.
And if not a hooker, how about pulling an Anna Nicole Smith and marrying an old man who will leave me everything in his will as I swear that it was real love despite the age difference. Great in theory but like the above... I'm at a lack of ideas on how to go about this scheme.
I feel like I have been locked in solitary confinement left alone with my mind that is screaming in frustration about how I am going to manage to pay my bills at the end of the month let alone March and on without any job leads or promises. I guess I learned the hard lesson that sweet talk and a picture painted that sounded too good to be true was just that... false promises and I'm the fool to have left a job for them. One of my good friends keeps telling me I need to stop the negative energy, if I think positively good things will happen, but how can one not be negative about this situation?
A reader called for an update on my life but unfortunately I have nothing to update. My life consists of spending hours on my computer looking at any and every job posting web site I can think of and applying for jobs, whoring myself out to pimps who keep turning their backs on me, not wanting me to become part of their stock. I felt guilty spending the $20 including tip today getting my hair cut, I haven't gone out in I don't know how long, I have friend in various cities calling for me to visit and I don't even see a near future opportunity when that can happen. Life costs money, breathing costs money - money I no longer have.
Goldberg is gone, after making a midnight escape from my apt (more or less), I have not heard from him since. Benedick is... Benedick. I need that man in my life right now so badly it hurts, someone to take charge... make me feel safe and that everything will be ok, someone to take my mind off all my worries at night so that I can finally get some sleep. But like always, he ain't there so I am left to take care of myself further shutting myself off from the world.
I feel so lost, in a little over a week I'll be 27...27 years old and what do I have to show for it? Not much, I have so much love to give and no one to give it to. It's been a crazy year so far, so much has changed and yet so much has stayed the same. It's really kind of sad.
15 January 2008
I Come With a Warning Label
As people get older they run the risk of carrying more baggage... it's the risk we have to take when living life to its fullest. Baggage isn't always a bad thing, it makes you who you are in the present. It makes you wiser if a little more hesitant to put yourself out there again. Everyone has their quirks they've developed because of the baggage they carry.
A lot of times in the dating world baggage kills a relationship before it even has a chance to start. Perhaps one person is too pushy to spend the night when the other needs a little more time to get there but genuinely wants to reach that point. If this isn't made clear the person doing the pushing could walk away with a shake of their head when everything would have fallen in to place given time. Wouldn't it be easier if we all came with warning labels? It's ok to be a little gun shy after being burnt, and if the other person knows this it could clear up any mixed signals that would come along.
Warning: future crazy cat lady... help!
Warning: will lose interest as soon as I sleep with you.
Warning: I'm so scared of commitment that I will tell you I don't want to get serious when it's all I can think about.
Warning: I live at home in my parent's basement.
Whatever the warning, how much simpler would things be if we knew these at the start?
Goldberg came over last night and out of left field asked me what I'm looking for. I told him I want a relationship, he told me that he's recently out of a serious relationship and the wounds are still fresh, that he's not looking for anything serious right now. But that he enjoys hanging out with me, he just wanted to be up front and honest. Honesty, wow that's a first. I reminded him that we've only known each other for a week so there's still plenty of getting to know you time needing to happen before we even get to that crossroad. He surprised me, usually I'm agonizing over needing definition but scared to ask. I hadn't even started to think about that with him as I'm just getting to know him. Yet as much fun as Goldberg is, he's not the type of guy I can see myself getting serious with. Goldberg flashed his warning label and now we're on the same page so it's all good.
Ah but it always comes back to Benedick doesn't it? Things have taken an interesting turn that I'm not exactly sure how it will play out. He's a boy with some warning labels he's keeping in a closed hand so I am left confused in the dark. It would be a whole lot easier if he showed me some of his cards so I knew what type of hand he was playing.
In the end time reveals most things, sadly along with time comes frustration. And I'm getting frustrated.
On a totally different note if y'all haven't heard of Chris O'Brien you need to check him out. "Ocean Stone" is brilliant and I can't wait until the CD arrives so I can listen to it in its entirety.
Another obsession of mine is Alanis Morissette's song "Forgive Me Love" it's so beautifully painful and simple. It gives me chills.
I went to your house,
Walked up the stairs,
I opened your door without ringing the bell,
I walked down the hall,
Into your room,
Where I could smell you.
And I.
Shouldn't be here,
Without permission.
Shouldn't be here.
Would you forgive me love?
If I danced in your shower?
Would you forgive me love?
If I laid in your bed?
Would you forgive me love?
If I stay all afternoon.
I took off my clothes,
Put on your robe,
Went through your drawers, And I found your cologne.
Went down to the den,
Found your CD's,
And I played your Joni,
And I.
Shouldn't stay long.
You might be home soon,
I Shouldn't stay long.
Would you forgive me love?
If I danced in your shower?
Would you forgive me love?
If I laid in your bed?
Would you forgive me love?
If I stay all afternoon.
I burned your incense,
I ran a bath,
I noticed a letter that sat on your desk.
It said hello love.
I love you so love.
Meet me at midnight,
And no.
It wasn't my writing.
I better go soon.
It wasn't my writing.
So forgive me love.
If I cry in your shower.
So forgive me love.
For the salt in your bed.
So forgive me love.
If I cry all afternoon.
A lot of times in the dating world baggage kills a relationship before it even has a chance to start. Perhaps one person is too pushy to spend the night when the other needs a little more time to get there but genuinely wants to reach that point. If this isn't made clear the person doing the pushing could walk away with a shake of their head when everything would have fallen in to place given time. Wouldn't it be easier if we all came with warning labels? It's ok to be a little gun shy after being burnt, and if the other person knows this it could clear up any mixed signals that would come along.
Warning: future crazy cat lady... help!
Warning: will lose interest as soon as I sleep with you.
Warning: I'm so scared of commitment that I will tell you I don't want to get serious when it's all I can think about.
Warning: I live at home in my parent's basement.
Whatever the warning, how much simpler would things be if we knew these at the start?
Goldberg came over last night and out of left field asked me what I'm looking for. I told him I want a relationship, he told me that he's recently out of a serious relationship and the wounds are still fresh, that he's not looking for anything serious right now. But that he enjoys hanging out with me, he just wanted to be up front and honest. Honesty, wow that's a first. I reminded him that we've only known each other for a week so there's still plenty of getting to know you time needing to happen before we even get to that crossroad. He surprised me, usually I'm agonizing over needing definition but scared to ask. I hadn't even started to think about that with him as I'm just getting to know him. Yet as much fun as Goldberg is, he's not the type of guy I can see myself getting serious with. Goldberg flashed his warning label and now we're on the same page so it's all good.
Ah but it always comes back to Benedick doesn't it? Things have taken an interesting turn that I'm not exactly sure how it will play out. He's a boy with some warning labels he's keeping in a closed hand so I am left confused in the dark. It would be a whole lot easier if he showed me some of his cards so I knew what type of hand he was playing.
In the end time reveals most things, sadly along with time comes frustration. And I'm getting frustrated.
On a totally different note if y'all haven't heard of Chris O'Brien you need to check him out. "Ocean Stone" is brilliant and I can't wait until the CD arrives so I can listen to it in its entirety.
Another obsession of mine is Alanis Morissette's song "Forgive Me Love" it's so beautifully painful and simple. It gives me chills.
Walked up the stairs,
I opened your door without ringing the bell,
I walked down the hall,
Into your room,
Where I could smell you.
And I.
Shouldn't be here,
Without permission.
Shouldn't be here.
Would you forgive me love?
If I danced in your shower?
Would you forgive me love?
If I laid in your bed?
Would you forgive me love?
If I stay all afternoon.
I took off my clothes,
Put on your robe,
Went through your drawers, And I found your cologne.
Went down to the den,
Found your CD's,
And I played your Joni,
And I.
Shouldn't stay long.
You might be home soon,
I Shouldn't stay long.
Would you forgive me love?
If I danced in your shower?
Would you forgive me love?
If I laid in your bed?
Would you forgive me love?
If I stay all afternoon.
I burned your incense,
I ran a bath,
I noticed a letter that sat on your desk.
It said hello love.
I love you so love.
Meet me at midnight,
And no.
It wasn't my writing.
I better go soon.
It wasn't my writing.
So forgive me love.
If I cry in your shower.
So forgive me love.
For the salt in your bed.
So forgive me love.
If I cry all afternoon.
10 January 2008
Resolutions Made... Resolutions Broken
The dawning of a new year brings about a feeling in most people that changing that four digit number at the end of the date is an opportunity to become a better version of you. A new year is the chance to turn over a new leaf - stop a bad habit, lose some weight, spend more time with friends and family, etc. People make countless resolutions that are forgotten a week in to January with the notion that at least you tried, maybe next year you'll do better.
Maybe next year... a cop out reasoning to failure. In the end that's what a broken resolution is - failure, by not kicking the habit/the bad boyfriend/those few extra pounds you are selling yourself short. So my resolution this year is to no longer sell myself short. I have always been a giver, I give 200% of myself to everyone in my life and rarely save anything for myself. I deserve to only have friends who care about me and who are not completely and utterly selfish and self-centered. To those who use and abuse me, see ya! I also deserve to not be taken advantage of by my family - this is a harder battle but I am working on it.
I'd be lying if I said that I was holding firm to this resolution when it comes to guys though. If something is said to be over before it has even begun, if it has an expiration date on it, then shouldn't I put the nail in the coffin and officially end it? I should, but I can't for various reasons. I know I am not being fair to myself, I want a guy who can't keep his hands off of me, a guy who won't let too many days go before he sees me again. Yet I'm young and I should allow myself to enjoy the moment. And the moment is good if I keep the "what does this mean!" voices quiet.
Besides, I have a potential new distraction. And Goldberg is doing just that, he's touching base with me after a few days, he's asking to grab a drink. It looks like he wants to see more of me even if I don't know in what capacity. And while Benedick is far more appropriate of a match for me as boyfriend material, there's something about Goldberg that makes me grin.
Perhaps then I should make a new resolution - to enjoy the moment and to stop over thinking everything. Easier said than done but I'm going to give it my best shot. 'Cause honey, I'm single and fabulous and I should be enjoying the moment regardless of the end result.
Maybe next year... a cop out reasoning to failure. In the end that's what a broken resolution is - failure, by not kicking the habit/the bad boyfriend/those few extra pounds you are selling yourself short. So my resolution this year is to no longer sell myself short. I have always been a giver, I give 200% of myself to everyone in my life and rarely save anything for myself. I deserve to only have friends who care about me and who are not completely and utterly selfish and self-centered. To those who use and abuse me, see ya! I also deserve to not be taken advantage of by my family - this is a harder battle but I am working on it.
I'd be lying if I said that I was holding firm to this resolution when it comes to guys though. If something is said to be over before it has even begun, if it has an expiration date on it, then shouldn't I put the nail in the coffin and officially end it? I should, but I can't for various reasons. I know I am not being fair to myself, I want a guy who can't keep his hands off of me, a guy who won't let too many days go before he sees me again. Yet I'm young and I should allow myself to enjoy the moment. And the moment is good if I keep the "what does this mean!" voices quiet.
Besides, I have a potential new distraction. And Goldberg is doing just that, he's touching base with me after a few days, he's asking to grab a drink. It looks like he wants to see more of me even if I don't know in what capacity. And while Benedick is far more appropriate of a match for me as boyfriend material, there's something about Goldberg that makes me grin.
Perhaps then I should make a new resolution - to enjoy the moment and to stop over thinking everything. Easier said than done but I'm going to give it my best shot. 'Cause honey, I'm single and fabulous and I should be enjoying the moment regardless of the end result.
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