You know, one of the things I absolutely loathe and detest is that periodically I have a dream featuring Mr. Kim. These dreams haunt me for days, usually because they point out obvious things I already knew, and don't know why I need to berate myself with these things while sleeping.
Early this morning I had another dream featuring Mr. Kim, but this one was different. For the first time, I actually came out the victor in the dream.
I can't remember a lot about the details of how Mr. Kim and I got together in the dream. I know my dad was in my dream, and so was my mom. But at some point, I was at Mr. Kim's place (you know, the home I used to share with him), and Kim was long gone. I don't mean they were broken up - she was on a trip or out of state or something.
I was there...to pick up my stuff? To...? I have no idea. What I do remember quite clearly is that he made sexual advances towards me. He started telling me how much he missed me - how I turned him on, etc. And I asked him one question - while I can't remember exactly what I asked, I know it had to do with the his status. I maybe asked him if he was leaving Kim or if he was not in love with her...
The point is, he didn't answer the question. He looked sheepish and shamefaced at the same time. He started to respond, and then stopped himself. Then he pressed himself against me again, and started seducing me with words.
This time, I recognized it for what it was: just pure sexual attraction. I realized in my dream that he was not going to leave her, that whatever this thing we had was just chemistry. I told him to stop, I wasn't interested any more.
I also asked him if we were to have sex, how would he know that Kim wouldn't find out? I reminded him that he cheated on me with her - and that if I was her, I would be keeping a watchful eye on every little thing he did, especially if I was away. And then I said, "You know, if I had the money she has, I would even probably hire a private detective to keep an eye out."
He left the room, and I went to straighten the bed (we were still fully clothed). I found a money clip under the pillow with some small bills in it. I left the clip, and took the money.
Then I thought that while he might not remember the amount of money that was there, he'd certainly know that the money clip had something - I started to return a twenty dollar bill... and then stopped myself. I took it. I realized it was small payment for all the crap he put me through, and for all the stuff of mine that Kim gave away.
I grabbed up what few belongings of mine was still there and left.
While I knew the money didn't even make a dent in the value of the stuff Kim took from me, I knew he wouldn't be able to confide to Kim that I took the money without explaining why I was there in the first place. I smirked and felt powerful as I walked away.
I really like that I had such a different and powerful dream for a change. I truly believe this signifies something important - hopefully a shift in my journey.
Moving forward once again. Yay!
Saturday, March 05, 2011
Playing Catch
There was a time when I blogged every single day. Yes. Every day. Now... well... yeah.
This week there was a lot on my mind. I could have shared with the group - but I didn't. I'll try to recap it all here - because it does me no good sitting around in my head, festering like a sore.
Once again, I seem to have caught the attention of a grandpa. Technically, he is not a grandpa, in that he doesn't have grandkids. Yet. But age-wise, he falls into the grandpa category.
He is interested in me, but - oh yes there is always a "but" now isn't there - there are so many things wrong with this that I am not confident I can express it all here. Basically, he reminds me a lot of a guy I used to date about a year ago - and not necessarily in a good way. He blurts out things that are totally inappropriate for the conversation at hand. He does not want to get married again. And he is almost a full 15 years older than me.
The other day, I was at Goodwill and ran into a woman I've met at several meetups. We got to talking, and she mentioned Grandpa. I was curious what she thought about him, so without giving any info about how he'd been pursuing me, I probed her for her thoughts on him. She said, "There is something wrong with him. He gives me the creeps." And while I admit he doesn't give me the creeps, there is definitely something off about the guy.
Why oh why can't I ever attract the attention of someone my age who is relatively sane?
I think I did see someone who was sane the other day at Goodwill. While I was talking to my new acquaintance, I noticed a very good looking older guy who looked my way periodically. I think I've seen him at Goodwill before. He has striking blue eyes. Or gray. Or something - whatever. They're striking, no matter what color they are.
When I got into line to pay, he was in front of me. He had been chatting to the woman in front of him. When he sensed me by him, he turned around and stared at me. I finally met his eyes and he said, "Hey! Cool necklace you've got on." I thanked him, and told him I got it at Goodwill.
I looked at his left hand - no ring. Then I looked at purchases, which were kind of interesting. Two books - I like readers. And a statue of a, well, not a Buddha. Some sort of Asian God or Goddess, though. He was so happy with it, and I was thinking, "Dammit. Why didn't I see that?"
Just when I was feeling kind of happy and lighthearted that he had seemed to take an interest in me, a woman joined him and they left together.
She was too old to be his daughter. Dang it.
So, my social life is very dry right now - and my work life is, well, full of suckage.
There is a 21-year-old on my team who likes to boss me around. She has no refined people skills. I take that into account when dealing with her, but I got totally fed up with her this week. She was passive aggressive with me about a several work issues - and that last instance just pushed me over the edge. Basically, she stated that she didn't know why I didn't pick up two requests in the label queue, as she knew I wasn't working on anything.
For one, I had been instructed specifically NOT to pick them up. Secondly, her cube mate also was not doing anything. Nothing. And in fact, because he had nothing to do, he spent large amounts of time playing basketball with his friends. On company time.
But... I guess I am the easy target.
There are times I think, "That's it! I'm going to apply for every job I see, whether I am qualified or not!" And then there are other times that I think I'm lucky to have a job that's fairly secure - no matter how sucky it is. We're currently in no danger of being laid off, which is saying a lot in this climate.
Last but not least, there is my dad and his health issue(s). I wanted to go visit last weekend, but we had a huge snowstorm and I was not confident that I'd make it through the Pass. This weekend there is also snow predicted - so I'm not sure I'll be able to visit, either. And I really want to - we'll see. I still might be able to.
I would feel better if I could visit and see him in person, and run some of his errands.
And apropos of nothing, yesterday I was hella hungry, and today I have no appetite. I didn't eat lunch, and totally don't feel deprived or hungry or cranky.
Wouldn't it be great if that happened to me every day?
This week there was a lot on my mind. I could have shared with the group - but I didn't. I'll try to recap it all here - because it does me no good sitting around in my head, festering like a sore.
Once again, I seem to have caught the attention of a grandpa. Technically, he is not a grandpa, in that he doesn't have grandkids. Yet. But age-wise, he falls into the grandpa category.
He is interested in me, but - oh yes there is always a "but" now isn't there - there are so many things wrong with this that I am not confident I can express it all here. Basically, he reminds me a lot of a guy I used to date about a year ago - and not necessarily in a good way. He blurts out things that are totally inappropriate for the conversation at hand. He does not want to get married again. And he is almost a full 15 years older than me.
The other day, I was at Goodwill and ran into a woman I've met at several meetups. We got to talking, and she mentioned Grandpa. I was curious what she thought about him, so without giving any info about how he'd been pursuing me, I probed her for her thoughts on him. She said, "There is something wrong with him. He gives me the creeps." And while I admit he doesn't give me the creeps, there is definitely something off about the guy.
Why oh why can't I ever attract the attention of someone my age who is relatively sane?
I think I did see someone who was sane the other day at Goodwill. While I was talking to my new acquaintance, I noticed a very good looking older guy who looked my way periodically. I think I've seen him at Goodwill before. He has striking blue eyes. Or gray. Or something - whatever. They're striking, no matter what color they are.
When I got into line to pay, he was in front of me. He had been chatting to the woman in front of him. When he sensed me by him, he turned around and stared at me. I finally met his eyes and he said, "Hey! Cool necklace you've got on." I thanked him, and told him I got it at Goodwill.
I looked at his left hand - no ring. Then I looked at purchases, which were kind of interesting. Two books - I like readers. And a statue of a, well, not a Buddha. Some sort of Asian God or Goddess, though. He was so happy with it, and I was thinking, "Dammit. Why didn't I see that?"
Just when I was feeling kind of happy and lighthearted that he had seemed to take an interest in me, a woman joined him and they left together.
She was too old to be his daughter. Dang it.
So, my social life is very dry right now - and my work life is, well, full of suckage.
There is a 21-year-old on my team who likes to boss me around. She has no refined people skills. I take that into account when dealing with her, but I got totally fed up with her this week. She was passive aggressive with me about a several work issues - and that last instance just pushed me over the edge. Basically, she stated that she didn't know why I didn't pick up two requests in the label queue, as she knew I wasn't working on anything.
For one, I had been instructed specifically NOT to pick them up. Secondly, her cube mate also was not doing anything. Nothing. And in fact, because he had nothing to do, he spent large amounts of time playing basketball with his friends. On company time.
But... I guess I am the easy target.
There are times I think, "That's it! I'm going to apply for every job I see, whether I am qualified or not!" And then there are other times that I think I'm lucky to have a job that's fairly secure - no matter how sucky it is. We're currently in no danger of being laid off, which is saying a lot in this climate.
Last but not least, there is my dad and his health issue(s). I wanted to go visit last weekend, but we had a huge snowstorm and I was not confident that I'd make it through the Pass. This weekend there is also snow predicted - so I'm not sure I'll be able to visit, either. And I really want to - we'll see. I still might be able to.
I would feel better if I could visit and see him in person, and run some of his errands.
And apropos of nothing, yesterday I was hella hungry, and today I have no appetite. I didn't eat lunch, and totally don't feel deprived or hungry or cranky.
Wouldn't it be great if that happened to me every day?
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
You got new glasses ?
You know, I had to do it. Yes. So here is the response I sent to Monkey Man:
Mad Magazine’s Top Ten Snappy Answers To A Stupid Question
10) They're not glasses. They're contacts. Really big contacts.
9) No, it’s just an illusion.
8) Everything seems new after a few beers.
7) They’re not even glasses. They’re beer goggles.
6) Who said it was me in the picture?
5) When your drill sergeant told you to never assume, you really took that to heart.
4) It’s been said that there are no dumb questions, but obviously that’s a lie.
3) Where’s the beef?
2) Maybe if you put your glasses on, you’d know.
And Mad Magazine's number one top ten response is:
1) Duh.
.
Mad Magazine’s Top Ten Snappy Answers To A Stupid Question
10) They're not glasses. They're contacts. Really big contacts.
9) No, it’s just an illusion.
8) Everything seems new after a few beers.
7) They’re not even glasses. They’re beer goggles.
6) Who said it was me in the picture?
5) When your drill sergeant told you to never assume, you really took that to heart.
4) It’s been said that there are no dumb questions, but obviously that’s a lie.
3) Where’s the beef?
2) Maybe if you put your glasses on, you’d know.
And Mad Magazine's number one top ten response is:
1) Duh.
.
The Numbered Musings of a Mad Woman
I’ve got a lot going on in my head. It’s screaming: Let me out. So here it is. Out. The good, the bad, and the ugly. Okay, maybe not ugly as much as boring. Prepare yourself.
1) I’ve been bugging Mr. Kim about my stuff. He finally contacted me back, which was good. He also asked me a personal question, prefacing it with the statement that he had no right to ask, but he was curious.
I pondered on this for a while. I wanted to respond, I really did. More out of habit than anything else - I mean, there was a time when I told him nearly everything about me. But... yeah. That time has passed.
It took some restraint, but I ignored the question. And after re-reading my reply several times before sending, I don't think he'll notice that I didn't address the question he asked.
In fact, he probably has even forgotten he asked.
2) A friend of mine told me that she thought I wasn't over Mr. Kim. I am fairly certain I am over him, as in, I don't love him anymore. And I don't want to know the details of his life. Or miss him. Well, miss HIM, the guy.
I think she has a point, though, in an off-base kind of way. I am not over losing him. I am over him. Just not the loss.
I miss having someone in my life who actually cared about what happened to me. I miss having someone calling me every day to check on me. I miss having someone to laugh with and cry with and just sit with.
I miss being cherished (even if it was an illusion). I miss planning the future with someone. I miss having a history with someone. I miss having someone to count on.
I miss being important to someone. I miss thinking about someone regularly. I miss... well, a lot of the little things that goes into the day-to-day of a relationship. Calling when something reminded me of him. Sharing secrets with him. Having private jokes.
Mr. Kim - no, I don't miss him. And I am over him. But boy, do I miss having someone special in my life.
I feel that loss every single day that goes by without someone new in it.
3) Thanks to Facebook, I was prompted to friend someone I dated for a while. His main picture is of him and a girl, so Facebook, thanks for the thought, but no, I don't think I'll be friending him any time soon.
He and she looked very happy together. And, I wasn't even jealous. I was actually happy for him - not enough to friend him, though.
Some things should just stay in the past.
4) I woke up at 2 a.m. last night and never got back to sleep. At three, I toyed with the idea of getting up and being productive. But, I was still hopeful that I could get two more hours of sleep.
I didn't.
And Coast to Coast A.M. wasn't a friend to me, either. They had some sort of uninteresting topic on, so I listened to NPR's late night jazz instead. It was nice, but I think a soothing voice might have gotten me to sleep.
Or maybe I'm just dreaming.
I'm not exactly sure why I couldn't go back to sleep. I am not particularly stressed. But I do have a lot of stuff running through my head - like when will Mr. Kim get back to me about my stuff? (well, he finally did) Why can't I get the song "Grenade" out of my head? When will I be able to get my roof fixed?
You know, that kind of stuff.
Hopefully I burned some calories while tossing and turning for three hours. Because otherwise, I probably should have just followed my first thought and gotten out of bed and three a.m. and been productive.
5) Some jerkwad heretofore known as Monkey Man blocked me on Facebook months and months ago. So, what does he do? He finds me on a dating website, and sends me a message. And a stupid message at that:
"You got new glasses?"
I thought of a thousand smart alecky replies I could send. Instead, I blocked him.
Ha! Take that, Monkey Man! No more stupid questions from you. At least on that site.
6) Speaking of dating websites, I guess my activity checking my mail on that site brought me to the top of search requests. I got another email, and was excited - that is, until I read it.
For one, it was from a 23-year-old guy who wrote in text speak. Two, even though the guy's stats said he was single, his write-up said he was married with a kid.
And thirdly, why would I want to go to Cold Springs and spend time with a total stranger?
I blocked him, too. Take that, you random booty call hunter!
7) So far, 2011 sucks the big red one. If I didn't know better, I'd think it was 2009.
1) I’ve been bugging Mr. Kim about my stuff. He finally contacted me back, which was good. He also asked me a personal question, prefacing it with the statement that he had no right to ask, but he was curious.
I pondered on this for a while. I wanted to respond, I really did. More out of habit than anything else - I mean, there was a time when I told him nearly everything about me. But... yeah. That time has passed.
It took some restraint, but I ignored the question. And after re-reading my reply several times before sending, I don't think he'll notice that I didn't address the question he asked.
In fact, he probably has even forgotten he asked.
2) A friend of mine told me that she thought I wasn't over Mr. Kim. I am fairly certain I am over him, as in, I don't love him anymore. And I don't want to know the details of his life. Or miss him. Well, miss HIM, the guy.
I think she has a point, though, in an off-base kind of way. I am not over losing him. I am over him. Just not the loss.
I miss having someone in my life who actually cared about what happened to me. I miss having someone calling me every day to check on me. I miss having someone to laugh with and cry with and just sit with.
I miss being cherished (even if it was an illusion). I miss planning the future with someone. I miss having a history with someone. I miss having someone to count on.
I miss being important to someone. I miss thinking about someone regularly. I miss... well, a lot of the little things that goes into the day-to-day of a relationship. Calling when something reminded me of him. Sharing secrets with him. Having private jokes.
Mr. Kim - no, I don't miss him. And I am over him. But boy, do I miss having someone special in my life.
I feel that loss every single day that goes by without someone new in it.
3) Thanks to Facebook, I was prompted to friend someone I dated for a while. His main picture is of him and a girl, so Facebook, thanks for the thought, but no, I don't think I'll be friending him any time soon.
He and she looked very happy together. And, I wasn't even jealous. I was actually happy for him - not enough to friend him, though.
Some things should just stay in the past.
4) I woke up at 2 a.m. last night and never got back to sleep. At three, I toyed with the idea of getting up and being productive. But, I was still hopeful that I could get two more hours of sleep.
I didn't.
And Coast to Coast A.M. wasn't a friend to me, either. They had some sort of uninteresting topic on, so I listened to NPR's late night jazz instead. It was nice, but I think a soothing voice might have gotten me to sleep.
Or maybe I'm just dreaming.
I'm not exactly sure why I couldn't go back to sleep. I am not particularly stressed. But I do have a lot of stuff running through my head - like when will Mr. Kim get back to me about my stuff? (well, he finally did) Why can't I get the song "Grenade" out of my head? When will I be able to get my roof fixed?
You know, that kind of stuff.
Hopefully I burned some calories while tossing and turning for three hours. Because otherwise, I probably should have just followed my first thought and gotten out of bed and three a.m. and been productive.
5) Some jerkwad heretofore known as Monkey Man blocked me on Facebook months and months ago. So, what does he do? He finds me on a dating website, and sends me a message. And a stupid message at that:
"You got new glasses?"
I thought of a thousand smart alecky replies I could send. Instead, I blocked him.
Ha! Take that, Monkey Man! No more stupid questions from you. At least on that site.
6) Speaking of dating websites, I guess my activity checking my mail on that site brought me to the top of search requests. I got another email, and was excited - that is, until I read it.
For one, it was from a 23-year-old guy who wrote in text speak. Two, even though the guy's stats said he was single, his write-up said he was married with a kid.
And thirdly, why would I want to go to Cold Springs and spend time with a total stranger?
I blocked him, too. Take that, you random booty call hunter!
7) So far, 2011 sucks the big red one. If I didn't know better, I'd think it was 2009.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
I think...
I think I'm in a better place than I was when I blogged last. I wish I could say for sure that I'm in a better place emotionally - but I can't. The only reason I think I'm in a better place is because I'm doing what I do best: ignoring what is going on inside of me and going through the motions of everyday life.
My dad is out of the hospital, but I'm not entirely sure what's going on. But, I honestly don't think he knows, either, so I'm not going to give him any crap about keeping me informed. The truth is that while he went in for one thing (pulmonary embolism), all of a sudden other things went wrong.
Are these other things linked to the meds? Are they linked to the embolism? Were they going to happen anyway? Who knows? Well, God probably knows, but let me tell you, he's not letting me in on the secret.
Work is... work. I'm still not getting ahead, but at least I'm not drowning in failure any more, either. I know. I exaggerate. But honestly as much as I was against it, being moved to another channel was a good thing.
Love life - well, I have none. I am getting no bites on the dating sites, and nothing is happening in real life, either. I go out. I meet people at events, but the guys don't seem to take a shine to me. Well wait. They do seem to enjoy talking to me, but almost always leave with the blonde.
I'm thinking of dying my hair blonde just to see if my life changes.
Speaking of changes, I've been attempting to listen to a CD I got at Goodwill: the Law of Attraction (Part 1). I guess Part 2 was already sold.
This audiobook is so annoying! I'm on disc 2, and basically it's still a big advertisement of what will happen once I put the Law of Attraction into use. STOP TRYING TO CONVINCE ME. Just get to the meat already, okay?
I also bought the book The Secret at Goodwill, and it is the same thing. I'm at about the 4th chapter, and still the authors haven't said anything about how it works - just that it works. It's like the book is one big infomercial. No juice... just seeds.
And you might be wondering why I'm buying all this fluffy bunny crap - well, it's because I believe there is something to be said about attitude and gratitude and positive thinking.
I don't believe I'm a pessimist. I am more of a realist. Still... that doesn't bring me great joy. I don't get optimists. In fact, quite frankly they bug me. But... it dawned on me that they are doing something right. It seems like it is the optimists that have good lives. Happy lives. That get the things they want.
I'm not saying they don't have their own struggles... but their struggles don't hamper their movement.
Do I think that after listening to The Law of Attraction (Part 1) and reading The Secret that my life will be instantaneously good? Nah. I do, however, think it will help to adjust my mindset.
As a longtime listener to Coast to Coast AM, I often hear about "vibrations" and our vibrational levels, etc. Before nodding off to sleep the other night, a guest was talking about vibrations. And then, guess what? On Part 1 of the Law of Attraction, they (meaning Abraham - his or her many selves) talked about vibrations. About how being negative sends out negative vibrations, making it difficult to attract higher vibrations.
I don't know - it all sounds kind of odd and touchy feely, but it is finally starting to make some sense to me.
I started keeping a little journal with my Attitude of Gratitude postings. I am keeping it to five things a day. Surely I can find five things a day to be thankful for. Right?
So. I think I'm doing better. Or maybe I'm just ignoring the trouble that I am in. And I probably am doing that. However, at the same time, I'm actively working on making things better. Small steps... but maybe eventually they'll get me somewhere other than where I've been.
My dad is out of the hospital, but I'm not entirely sure what's going on. But, I honestly don't think he knows, either, so I'm not going to give him any crap about keeping me informed. The truth is that while he went in for one thing (pulmonary embolism), all of a sudden other things went wrong.
Are these other things linked to the meds? Are they linked to the embolism? Were they going to happen anyway? Who knows? Well, God probably knows, but let me tell you, he's not letting me in on the secret.
Work is... work. I'm still not getting ahead, but at least I'm not drowning in failure any more, either. I know. I exaggerate. But honestly as much as I was against it, being moved to another channel was a good thing.
Love life - well, I have none. I am getting no bites on the dating sites, and nothing is happening in real life, either. I go out. I meet people at events, but the guys don't seem to take a shine to me. Well wait. They do seem to enjoy talking to me, but almost always leave with the blonde.
I'm thinking of dying my hair blonde just to see if my life changes.
Speaking of changes, I've been attempting to listen to a CD I got at Goodwill: the Law of Attraction (Part 1). I guess Part 2 was already sold.
This audiobook is so annoying! I'm on disc 2, and basically it's still a big advertisement of what will happen once I put the Law of Attraction into use. STOP TRYING TO CONVINCE ME. Just get to the meat already, okay?
I also bought the book The Secret at Goodwill, and it is the same thing. I'm at about the 4th chapter, and still the authors haven't said anything about how it works - just that it works. It's like the book is one big infomercial. No juice... just seeds.
And you might be wondering why I'm buying all this fluffy bunny crap - well, it's because I believe there is something to be said about attitude and gratitude and positive thinking.
I don't believe I'm a pessimist. I am more of a realist. Still... that doesn't bring me great joy. I don't get optimists. In fact, quite frankly they bug me. But... it dawned on me that they are doing something right. It seems like it is the optimists that have good lives. Happy lives. That get the things they want.
I'm not saying they don't have their own struggles... but their struggles don't hamper their movement.
Do I think that after listening to The Law of Attraction (Part 1) and reading The Secret that my life will be instantaneously good? Nah. I do, however, think it will help to adjust my mindset.
As a longtime listener to Coast to Coast AM, I often hear about "vibrations" and our vibrational levels, etc. Before nodding off to sleep the other night, a guest was talking about vibrations. And then, guess what? On Part 1 of the Law of Attraction, they (meaning Abraham - his or her many selves) talked about vibrations. About how being negative sends out negative vibrations, making it difficult to attract higher vibrations.
I don't know - it all sounds kind of odd and touchy feely, but it is finally starting to make some sense to me.
I started keeping a little journal with my Attitude of Gratitude postings. I am keeping it to five things a day. Surely I can find five things a day to be thankful for. Right?
So. I think I'm doing better. Or maybe I'm just ignoring the trouble that I am in. And I probably am doing that. However, at the same time, I'm actively working on making things better. Small steps... but maybe eventually they'll get me somewhere other than where I've been.
Wednesday, February 09, 2011
House of Cards
I don't even really know where to begin. You might say, "Begin at the beginning." One small problem: I'm not sure where the beginning is.
Is the beginning when I broke up with Mr. Kim? Or is it when I moved here to Reno? Is the beginning when my mom died? Or is the beginning when I finally got work after being laid off for a year? Or could it be that the beginning is here. Now. My dad's hospitalization and his deteriorating health.
I'm not sure any more. They're all beginnings in a way, and yet they're all endings, too. Like the Death card in Tarot, these things are definitely endings, but they're also beginnings. The death of one thing brings forth new life. New journeys. New hardships.
I am on the brink...of something. Despair? Anguish? Depression? All of the above?
All I know is that I've felt anxious for days. And also depressed. I've felt angry and sad and unloved and unwanted. I've felt worthless and ugly and fat and alone. So, I guess it's no surprise that seeing a wedding picture of Kim and Mr. Kim set me over the edge.
And so I did. I saw two wedding pictures and whatever bits of glue had been holding me together over the last month just broke apart. I'm not quite sure why, as I'm fairly certain I am over him and have been for a while. I don't love him any more.
Wait. Do I?
I'm pretty sure I don't. And yet...
Here I am, feeling devastated after seeing a picture of them. The funny thing is, in both pictures she looked deliriously happy. He looked... well, not deliriously happy. Then again, because of Asperger's, he is never really deliriously happy.
I sometimes still wonder what clinched the deal. I remember one of the last times we spoke, and he spoke of her. I hadn't even brought her up. But he did. They had had a fight, and in telling me about his frustration he almost yelled the words, "I am not going to marry that girl!" Those words caught me by surprise.
He explained that she was pressuring him into marriage, and he wasn't going to marry her. Yet, he said he could not come up with a good reason to not get engaged to her. And to keep her happy, he would follow through on that.
He said he wasn't excited sexually by her, no matter how hard she tried to seduce him. But...she took care of him. And did it well. And without complaint.
Ouch.
I can attempt to comfort myself by stating it's a dysfunctional relationship. And I can do that from now until kingdom come, but guess what? I saw her picture. She's gorgeous. And then I think why isn't he sexually attracted to her? Perhaps he is now. I don't know - and honestly, I don't want to know.
I know their relationship is a bit dysfunctional, but it's the type of dysfunction that works. She's dependent on making him happy. She likes knowing that she makes his life easier. She likes being his mommy. And I can make in fun of that all I want, but guess what? I'm still the loser.
I'm the one that he was with for eleven years. I'm the one that never got to walk down the aisle. And even though his sexual desire for me continued to be strong well into his relationship with her, she's still prettier than me. And younger than me. And she's the one wearing his ring.
Yet - this isn't what this is about. This is just what pushed me to the edge and left me feeling like I'm dangling on by a thread.
The truth is, the last few months have sucked. I almost feel like it's 2009 all over again. My dad is sick. My job sucks. I can't get ahead. I'm feeling my age. I don't have anyone in my life who loves me.
I've been feeling like I am barely even living. I'm scared of the future. I honestly don't even think I have one.
I'm actually at the point where I am tired of living. I don't see the point of it any more. I have no major significance to anyone. Or anything.
I've felt people pulling away from me - people who are important to me. I'm sure it's because I smell like death. Or even though I try to mask it, people can still see me for what I am: a big, fat failure. And really, who wants to hang with failure?
When this all hit me like a ton of bricks today, I left my cubical, went to my car, and sat there in the quiet. As the sun streamed through the car windows, I found it difficult to breathe and to concentrate.
I held my head as thoughts raced through my head. Unhealthy thoughts. Healthy thoughts. Moments of blankness.
One thought kept coming through loudly: Move. Get out of Reno. Go live with your dad.
But... a thousand buts. I love Reno. I have a support system here - and I honestly haven't had one since I left the Army. I have friends and social groups. I have a house that I love - absolutely love. The economy sucks in California. I have no friends there. No support system. No spiritual outlets.
Buts.
And then there are the questions. How will I sell my home (say it with me now) "in this economy"? How will I find a job? How do I get rid of my stuff? How do I date when I'm back at home? Or do I?
Questions.
Lots of questions.
The worst part of it is, I have no answers. But perhaps the real tragedy is that I think I'm running out of hope.
Is the beginning when I broke up with Mr. Kim? Or is it when I moved here to Reno? Is the beginning when my mom died? Or is the beginning when I finally got work after being laid off for a year? Or could it be that the beginning is here. Now. My dad's hospitalization and his deteriorating health.
I'm not sure any more. They're all beginnings in a way, and yet they're all endings, too. Like the Death card in Tarot, these things are definitely endings, but they're also beginnings. The death of one thing brings forth new life. New journeys. New hardships.
I am on the brink...of something. Despair? Anguish? Depression? All of the above?
All I know is that I've felt anxious for days. And also depressed. I've felt angry and sad and unloved and unwanted. I've felt worthless and ugly and fat and alone. So, I guess it's no surprise that seeing a wedding picture of Kim and Mr. Kim set me over the edge.
And so I did. I saw two wedding pictures and whatever bits of glue had been holding me together over the last month just broke apart. I'm not quite sure why, as I'm fairly certain I am over him and have been for a while. I don't love him any more.
Wait. Do I?
I'm pretty sure I don't. And yet...
Here I am, feeling devastated after seeing a picture of them. The funny thing is, in both pictures she looked deliriously happy. He looked... well, not deliriously happy. Then again, because of Asperger's, he is never really deliriously happy.
I sometimes still wonder what clinched the deal. I remember one of the last times we spoke, and he spoke of her. I hadn't even brought her up. But he did. They had had a fight, and in telling me about his frustration he almost yelled the words, "I am not going to marry that girl!" Those words caught me by surprise.
He explained that she was pressuring him into marriage, and he wasn't going to marry her. Yet, he said he could not come up with a good reason to not get engaged to her. And to keep her happy, he would follow through on that.
He said he wasn't excited sexually by her, no matter how hard she tried to seduce him. But...she took care of him. And did it well. And without complaint.
Ouch.
I can attempt to comfort myself by stating it's a dysfunctional relationship. And I can do that from now until kingdom come, but guess what? I saw her picture. She's gorgeous. And then I think why isn't he sexually attracted to her? Perhaps he is now. I don't know - and honestly, I don't want to know.
I know their relationship is a bit dysfunctional, but it's the type of dysfunction that works. She's dependent on making him happy. She likes knowing that she makes his life easier. She likes being his mommy. And I can make in fun of that all I want, but guess what? I'm still the loser.
I'm the one that he was with for eleven years. I'm the one that never got to walk down the aisle. And even though his sexual desire for me continued to be strong well into his relationship with her, she's still prettier than me. And younger than me. And she's the one wearing his ring.
Yet - this isn't what this is about. This is just what pushed me to the edge and left me feeling like I'm dangling on by a thread.
The truth is, the last few months have sucked. I almost feel like it's 2009 all over again. My dad is sick. My job sucks. I can't get ahead. I'm feeling my age. I don't have anyone in my life who loves me.
I've been feeling like I am barely even living. I'm scared of the future. I honestly don't even think I have one.
I'm actually at the point where I am tired of living. I don't see the point of it any more. I have no major significance to anyone. Or anything.
I've felt people pulling away from me - people who are important to me. I'm sure it's because I smell like death. Or even though I try to mask it, people can still see me for what I am: a big, fat failure. And really, who wants to hang with failure?
When this all hit me like a ton of bricks today, I left my cubical, went to my car, and sat there in the quiet. As the sun streamed through the car windows, I found it difficult to breathe and to concentrate.
I held my head as thoughts raced through my head. Unhealthy thoughts. Healthy thoughts. Moments of blankness.
One thought kept coming through loudly: Move. Get out of Reno. Go live with your dad.
But... a thousand buts. I love Reno. I have a support system here - and I honestly haven't had one since I left the Army. I have friends and social groups. I have a house that I love - absolutely love. The economy sucks in California. I have no friends there. No support system. No spiritual outlets.
Buts.
And then there are the questions. How will I sell my home (say it with me now) "in this economy"? How will I find a job? How do I get rid of my stuff? How do I date when I'm back at home? Or do I?
Questions.
Lots of questions.
The worst part of it is, I have no answers. But perhaps the real tragedy is that I think I'm running out of hope.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Nature Lover
Today when I was playing Fairyland, I came across a picture of one of the garden owners which showed her hugging a tree. I hugged a tree once, and when I pulled away I discovered I was covered with ants.
What a perfect analogy for my life.
What a perfect analogy for my life.
Friday, January 07, 2011
The Friday Five
1) I organize some of the events for a local women's meetup group. I received an email today from a woman stating she was bringing her boyfriend to one of the events I'm hosting. Um... hello? What part of "women's group" does she not understand?
2) I had to be the bad guy and tell her that her boyfriend was not welcome to attend.
3) I'm not opposed to women having boyfriends. But, unless their boyfriend wants to wear lipstick, slip on a pair of nylons, and start having a monthly period, said boyfriends are not welcome at all-women events.
4) Strangely, I wouldn't mind going out with a man wearing lipstick and nylons. Go figure.
5) Obviously, it's been an awfully long time since I've had a date.
2) I had to be the bad guy and tell her that her boyfriend was not welcome to attend.
3) I'm not opposed to women having boyfriends. But, unless their boyfriend wants to wear lipstick, slip on a pair of nylons, and start having a monthly period, said boyfriends are not welcome at all-women events.
4) Strangely, I wouldn't mind going out with a man wearing lipstick and nylons. Go figure.
5) Obviously, it's been an awfully long time since I've had a date.
Friday, December 31, 2010
The Friday Five - New Year's Eve Edition
1) There's a party in the house - and I'm not going. Instead, I'm at my desk penning the Friday Five. Aren't I a regular party animal?
2) Speaking of animals, I hope 2011 brings me some sexy animals of the male type.
3) Wait. Make that sexy animals of the male type WHO ACTUALLY LIKE ME. I see plenty of sexy males. They just don't like me.
4) Which brings me to my next point: WTF is wrong with them?
5) Today I honestly don't care. I kind of enjoy spending NYE by myself. I have a ritual I do every NYE that I am alone - and it brings me comfort, joy and hope.
Happy New Year you guys. Thank you for your love and support this year. I wish you a happy, joyous and prosperous 2011.
2) Speaking of animals, I hope 2011 brings me some sexy animals of the male type.
3) Wait. Make that sexy animals of the male type WHO ACTUALLY LIKE ME. I see plenty of sexy males. They just don't like me.
4) Which brings me to my next point: WTF is wrong with them?
5) Today I honestly don't care. I kind of enjoy spending NYE by myself. I have a ritual I do every NYE that I am alone - and it brings me comfort, joy and hope.
Happy New Year you guys. Thank you for your love and support this year. I wish you a happy, joyous and prosperous 2011.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Santa Claus Came To Town
Last Wednesday (I think - at my age, the days all meld into one big glob), I drove into my carport and saw a bag near my door. I got out of the car and walked over to inspect it - inside the bag was a beautifully wrapped Christmas present. There was a gift tag that read, "To PJammy, from Santa Claus." The other side of the gift tag read, "Do not open until Christmas Eve."
Oooh! So exciting! I just love surprises!
On Thursday morning as I was packing the car with gifts and all the other paraphernalia I needed to take with me to California, I remembered the gift, and put it in the backseat. What could it be? Who could it be from? I had no idea - especially as I did not recognize the handwriting on the tag.
I made good time into California on Christmas Eve. I unpacked the car, and put the gift from Santa underneath the Christmas tree at my dad's place. My dad said, "What's that?" I said, "Look! It's a gift from Santa!" He picked it up, looked at the tag, and asked me if I knew who it was really from. I said no, I didn't recognize the handwriting. He said, wow, so someone just surprised you? I said yes!
After dinner, was over, we were sitting around talking and I said, "Oooh! It's officially night time! I can open my gift from Santa!" I ran into the living room and grabbed it. I brought it into the family room and opened it.
"What is it," my dad asked. "Pajamas," I shouted!
I think, though, Santa hasn't realized that PJammy gained a bit of weight this year, and the jammies don't quite fit over her humongous bum... still the thought behind the gift almost brought tears to my eyes. See... I told a few people this year that one thing I miss during Christmas is that I no longer have a gift to open on Christmas eve.
When we were young, my mom started the tradition of allowing us to open one gift on Christmas Eve. Mine was usually a nightgown or pajamas, and I LOVED that. I always had new jammies to wear to bed on Christmas eve, which delighted me to no end. While my brother's gifts were varied, mine always remained the same, and I loved counting on the fact that I would have a new nightgown or pajama set on Christmas Eve. My mom even continued this tradition when I was in the Army, the few times I wasn't able to make it home for Christmas. I'd receive a box with gifts, and one of them was always marked, "Open on Christmas Eve."
After my mom died last year, it seemed as if the tradition died with her as well.
The thing is, I know I told this story to a few people this year. My memory, though, is bad - and I can't quite remember who I told. I think I talked about it with some of the guys at work during one of our breakfast walks - yet I know none of them left me the gift. I also think I talked about it at some wine and appetizer get-together I went to recently, and yet I know none of them were Santa - in fact, I didn't know any of the people there, and they certainly don't know where I live. So... Santa really is a mystery to me!
The pajamas might not fit, but the thought that someone cared enough to surprise me with them warms and delights me. And heck, maybe it's the incentive I need to shed a few pounds... but that'll have to wait until Father Time gives birth to the New Year's baby. No sense rushing into things...
Oooh! So exciting! I just love surprises!
On Thursday morning as I was packing the car with gifts and all the other paraphernalia I needed to take with me to California, I remembered the gift, and put it in the backseat. What could it be? Who could it be from? I had no idea - especially as I did not recognize the handwriting on the tag.
I made good time into California on Christmas Eve. I unpacked the car, and put the gift from Santa underneath the Christmas tree at my dad's place. My dad said, "What's that?" I said, "Look! It's a gift from Santa!" He picked it up, looked at the tag, and asked me if I knew who it was really from. I said no, I didn't recognize the handwriting. He said, wow, so someone just surprised you? I said yes!
After dinner, was over, we were sitting around talking and I said, "Oooh! It's officially night time! I can open my gift from Santa!" I ran into the living room and grabbed it. I brought it into the family room and opened it.
"What is it," my dad asked. "Pajamas," I shouted!
I think, though, Santa hasn't realized that PJammy gained a bit of weight this year, and the jammies don't quite fit over her humongous bum... still the thought behind the gift almost brought tears to my eyes. See... I told a few people this year that one thing I miss during Christmas is that I no longer have a gift to open on Christmas eve.
When we were young, my mom started the tradition of allowing us to open one gift on Christmas Eve. Mine was usually a nightgown or pajamas, and I LOVED that. I always had new jammies to wear to bed on Christmas eve, which delighted me to no end. While my brother's gifts were varied, mine always remained the same, and I loved counting on the fact that I would have a new nightgown or pajama set on Christmas Eve. My mom even continued this tradition when I was in the Army, the few times I wasn't able to make it home for Christmas. I'd receive a box with gifts, and one of them was always marked, "Open on Christmas Eve."
After my mom died last year, it seemed as if the tradition died with her as well.
The thing is, I know I told this story to a few people this year. My memory, though, is bad - and I can't quite remember who I told. I think I talked about it with some of the guys at work during one of our breakfast walks - yet I know none of them left me the gift. I also think I talked about it at some wine and appetizer get-together I went to recently, and yet I know none of them were Santa - in fact, I didn't know any of the people there, and they certainly don't know where I live. So... Santa really is a mystery to me!
The pajamas might not fit, but the thought that someone cared enough to surprise me with them warms and delights me. And heck, maybe it's the incentive I need to shed a few pounds... but that'll have to wait until Father Time gives birth to the New Year's baby. No sense rushing into things...
Friday, December 10, 2010
The Friday Five
1. I guess it must have something to do with the whole "Christmas is coming" thing, because I find myself REALLY missing my mom. A lot.
2. When blowing out candles tonight, my eyes focused on a picture of her that is one of my favorites. It's not even a particularly good picture, but I love it. I think I took it. It was some time after we had the sundeck built. I was on the patio, and my mom was on the sundeck. I know my brother was with me, but he's not in the picture. She is looking down at us, smiling and squinting in the sun. "Snap!" The picture shows her on the sundeck, and nothing but sky above her.
3. My mom loved to decorate for the holidays - all of them. Valentine's Day. St. Patrick's Day. Easter. Even New Year's. I can barely even muster putting up my tree - but I will do it.
4. Speaking of, last year my dad went all out and spent days putting up almost all of the decorations. He decorated the backyard patio. The dining room. The living room. The family room. He even remembered to put out some of the decorations my mom had specifically designated for the bathroom. It took him about a week or so. He did it for my mom. And also for me. This year, he said he's getting a tree, but that might be about it.
5. I totally get it. Mom, we miss you - and without you, just don't have the energy to go whole hog. We hope you understand.
2. When blowing out candles tonight, my eyes focused on a picture of her that is one of my favorites. It's not even a particularly good picture, but I love it. I think I took it. It was some time after we had the sundeck built. I was on the patio, and my mom was on the sundeck. I know my brother was with me, but he's not in the picture. She is looking down at us, smiling and squinting in the sun. "Snap!" The picture shows her on the sundeck, and nothing but sky above her.
3. My mom loved to decorate for the holidays - all of them. Valentine's Day. St. Patrick's Day. Easter. Even New Year's. I can barely even muster putting up my tree - but I will do it.
4. Speaking of, last year my dad went all out and spent days putting up almost all of the decorations. He decorated the backyard patio. The dining room. The living room. The family room. He even remembered to put out some of the decorations my mom had specifically designated for the bathroom. It took him about a week or so. He did it for my mom. And also for me. This year, he said he's getting a tree, but that might be about it.
5. I totally get it. Mom, we miss you - and without you, just don't have the energy to go whole hog. We hope you understand.
Monday, December 06, 2010
Eat, Pray, Love
On a whim I stopped into Smith’s on the way home from a party on Saturday night. I was still kind of keyed up and thought a movie from Redbox might help calm me down enough to get to sleep.
I hit the jackpot – many of the movies I wanted to see were actually available for rental. Of course, that made my choice a little harder. What to choose…what to choose…? I decided on Eat, Pray, Love. Let me first say this: I am not a huge Julia Roberts fan, nor did I read the book. In fact, I had no desire to read the book. At all. Memoirs aren’t really my thing, but I thought perhaps in movie form the story might be compelling.
I was wrong.
I know it’s supposed to be the cool thing these days to be on the Eat, Pray, Love bandwagon. It’s all the rage. All the cool girls read the book AND saw the movie. They laughed. They cried. They grew. I so wanted to experience some of this… whatever it is. This wave that’s going through women’s groups all around me. I wanted to be able to talk about the subject with some sort of knowledge. And, believe it or not, I wanted to like the movie.
And I did not.
I am sure after reading what I am about to say, I’ll get a bunch of comments like, “You really have to read the book to get the full effect.” Let me say right here and now, no. I am not going to read the book. While I realize that movies don’t always capture the essence of a book, I saw enough to know that this woman’s “insights” were not anything I really want to read about.
For those of you not familiar (and that would probably mostly be the men on my friends list), a woman in her mid-to-late 30’s basically has a mid-life crisis. She tells her husband she doesn’t want to be married any longer, and is surprised when he is bitter during the divorce proceedings. She meets a guy, and decides he still isn’t what she’s looking for, so she packs up and goes on a trip to find herself.
First stop: Italy. This is where the “eat” part comes in. She supposedly eats her way through Italy, discovering the joy of food. Personally, I didn’t see it. I understand that the author gained weight. Julia Roberts? Nope. Stick thin. I thought I read somewhere that she gained weight for the role, but if she did, I certainly didn’t see it. Face it: Julia Roberts has *that * kind of body – she will look thin until the day she is almost 400 pounds. That’s just the facts, and she can’t fat it up for a role, no matter how much she insists she did. So did I buy it at all when her character had to shop for “fat pants”? Nope. And even when there is a shot of her lying on the floor in the dressing room trying to zip up a pair of pants, I didn’t buy it – especially since the point of the pant buying exercise was to buy a pair that would make eating more comfortable. If you have to lie on the floor to zip up a pair of pants, you will NOT be able to eat in them comfortably.
The Italy portion of the movie was probably the least irritating – and that’s not saying much. Julia Roberts’ character becomes perturbed every time an older Italian woman suggests she needs a man. And… I get it… but it becomes the running “gag” of the movie. For in each place she visits, there is some older woman insisting her life would be better if she had a man. I guess the viewer is supposed to sympathize with her, and high five her mentally when she spouts her feminist reasons as to why she doesn’t need a man. Instead, I found those moments annoying.
After Italy, she decides to waddle to India for the Pray portion. Here she lands in some sort of ashram or something – some place where basically all people do is meditate. She meets some cranky Texan who calls her “Groceries,” because of her appetite. Still… she doesn’t look fat to me. Not even chubby. Of course, Mr. Obnoxious Texan gets under her skin, and even the viewer begins to dislike him – until we get to the requisite “let’s squeeze some tears out of these women” scene. Turns out, he almost ran over his child in a drunken stupor, so he’s been meditating and working on himself. I was so touched I cried.
I lied. I knew a scene like this was coming – the whole set-up could be seen a mile away. I just really wanted it to hurry up and end so we could get to the Love part.
There was a side story of an Indian girl who was entering into a family-fixed marriage. And the Julia Roberts character was supposed to be all wise and sisterly and stuff, and I think we were to believe that because of JR, this girl was happier going into the marriage, but I dunno – that wasn’t quite pulled off, either. I mean, seriously – these little stories are just so cliché. If this woman REALLY lived this stuff, she knows how to make her life one big giant cliché after another.
We finally get to the Love part, and of course the “meet cute.” This guy runs Julia Roberts’ character off the road. She hates him, and then meets him and eventually falls for him. Because of COURSE he is sexy and sweet and everyone’s idea of the perfect man – well, almost perfect. Let’s remember he doesn’t drive well.
The love story falls flat, because while I can see why this guy is the bee’s knees, I don’t quite get what he sees in her. She whines. She pushes back. Oh WAIT. I get it now. All men like the bitch! That’s why. Okay. I should try that in real life.
So besides the fact that each portion of Eat, Pray, Love has been done to death before (and I know, this is supposed to be REAL LIFE exclamation mark), the other thing I found irritating was that she had the time and money to go “find herself.” In this economy, that luxury of self-indulgence just fell flat.
“Look at my life! It’s a disaster. I think I’ll take a year off and find myself. I’ll gorge myself in Italy. I’ll pray in India. And then I’ll fall in love in Bali! I’ll pull my hair back into a ponytail, so it looks like I’m slumming it. But really, I could go to the local salon and look like a runway model if I wanted to!”
For $1.08, it was probably worth seeing – but I sure feel sorry for you suckers who paid ten times more to see it in the theater.
I hit the jackpot – many of the movies I wanted to see were actually available for rental. Of course, that made my choice a little harder. What to choose…what to choose…? I decided on Eat, Pray, Love. Let me first say this: I am not a huge Julia Roberts fan, nor did I read the book. In fact, I had no desire to read the book. At all. Memoirs aren’t really my thing, but I thought perhaps in movie form the story might be compelling.
I was wrong.
I know it’s supposed to be the cool thing these days to be on the Eat, Pray, Love bandwagon. It’s all the rage. All the cool girls read the book AND saw the movie. They laughed. They cried. They grew. I so wanted to experience some of this… whatever it is. This wave that’s going through women’s groups all around me. I wanted to be able to talk about the subject with some sort of knowledge. And, believe it or not, I wanted to like the movie.
And I did not.
I am sure after reading what I am about to say, I’ll get a bunch of comments like, “You really have to read the book to get the full effect.” Let me say right here and now, no. I am not going to read the book. While I realize that movies don’t always capture the essence of a book, I saw enough to know that this woman’s “insights” were not anything I really want to read about.
For those of you not familiar (and that would probably mostly be the men on my friends list), a woman in her mid-to-late 30’s basically has a mid-life crisis. She tells her husband she doesn’t want to be married any longer, and is surprised when he is bitter during the divorce proceedings. She meets a guy, and decides he still isn’t what she’s looking for, so she packs up and goes on a trip to find herself.
First stop: Italy. This is where the “eat” part comes in. She supposedly eats her way through Italy, discovering the joy of food. Personally, I didn’t see it. I understand that the author gained weight. Julia Roberts? Nope. Stick thin. I thought I read somewhere that she gained weight for the role, but if she did, I certainly didn’t see it. Face it: Julia Roberts has *that * kind of body – she will look thin until the day she is almost 400 pounds. That’s just the facts, and she can’t fat it up for a role, no matter how much she insists she did. So did I buy it at all when her character had to shop for “fat pants”? Nope. And even when there is a shot of her lying on the floor in the dressing room trying to zip up a pair of pants, I didn’t buy it – especially since the point of the pant buying exercise was to buy a pair that would make eating more comfortable. If you have to lie on the floor to zip up a pair of pants, you will NOT be able to eat in them comfortably.
The Italy portion of the movie was probably the least irritating – and that’s not saying much. Julia Roberts’ character becomes perturbed every time an older Italian woman suggests she needs a man. And… I get it… but it becomes the running “gag” of the movie. For in each place she visits, there is some older woman insisting her life would be better if she had a man. I guess the viewer is supposed to sympathize with her, and high five her mentally when she spouts her feminist reasons as to why she doesn’t need a man. Instead, I found those moments annoying.
After Italy, she decides to waddle to India for the Pray portion. Here she lands in some sort of ashram or something – some place where basically all people do is meditate. She meets some cranky Texan who calls her “Groceries,” because of her appetite. Still… she doesn’t look fat to me. Not even chubby. Of course, Mr. Obnoxious Texan gets under her skin, and even the viewer begins to dislike him – until we get to the requisite “let’s squeeze some tears out of these women” scene. Turns out, he almost ran over his child in a drunken stupor, so he’s been meditating and working on himself. I was so touched I cried.
I lied. I knew a scene like this was coming – the whole set-up could be seen a mile away. I just really wanted it to hurry up and end so we could get to the Love part.
There was a side story of an Indian girl who was entering into a family-fixed marriage. And the Julia Roberts character was supposed to be all wise and sisterly and stuff, and I think we were to believe that because of JR, this girl was happier going into the marriage, but I dunno – that wasn’t quite pulled off, either. I mean, seriously – these little stories are just so cliché. If this woman REALLY lived this stuff, she knows how to make her life one big giant cliché after another.
We finally get to the Love part, and of course the “meet cute.” This guy runs Julia Roberts’ character off the road. She hates him, and then meets him and eventually falls for him. Because of COURSE he is sexy and sweet and everyone’s idea of the perfect man – well, almost perfect. Let’s remember he doesn’t drive well.
The love story falls flat, because while I can see why this guy is the bee’s knees, I don’t quite get what he sees in her. She whines. She pushes back. Oh WAIT. I get it now. All men like the bitch! That’s why. Okay. I should try that in real life.
So besides the fact that each portion of Eat, Pray, Love has been done to death before (and I know, this is supposed to be REAL LIFE exclamation mark), the other thing I found irritating was that she had the time and money to go “find herself.” In this economy, that luxury of self-indulgence just fell flat.
“Look at my life! It’s a disaster. I think I’ll take a year off and find myself. I’ll gorge myself in Italy. I’ll pray in India. And then I’ll fall in love in Bali! I’ll pull my hair back into a ponytail, so it looks like I’m slumming it. But really, I could go to the local salon and look like a runway model if I wanted to!”
For $1.08, it was probably worth seeing – but I sure feel sorry for you suckers who paid ten times more to see it in the theater.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
A Girl Went Into A Bar...
Well, no I didn't go into a bar. Instead, I sat down at my computer and started writing a blog entry. And it was really good, too. But I got distracted and next thing I knew, the whole entry was MISSING. Couldn't be recovered. Kind of like my life.
A few of my friends on FaceBook were first my friends on LiveJournal. I used to blog there every day. Every. Single. Day. And I pretty much did that for years - with maybe a day or two missed here and there. But after a while, I started blogging once or twice a week. And then maybe once a week. And then once a month... and now rarely.
The downhill slope started when things were just not good in my life. While blogging is a release of sorts, I started realizing that my normally funny and light blogs were heavy and depressing. And, honestly? I sometimes didn't even know what to write. My life was falling apart, and I wasn't even sure what was happening - how could I tell that story? And really, did I want to tell that story?
But LiveJournal is my first love, and while I sometimes get caught up in the fun social aspect of FB - Fairyland, status updates, YouTube clips - I miss the more tangible and heartfelt connections on LJ. So, I still blog there occasionally, and I do check in to catch up on my friends list, which brings me to the heart of this post.
Today I read a post from someone who is going through something really difficult. And I could FEEL it when I read it. I could feel her angst. Her frustration. Her sadness. Her desperation. And sadly, I could relate to it because I was in a similar place last year myself.
It's kind of like death - when someone you know loses a loved one, you murmur how sorry you are and move on. But, if you lost someone yourself, you know that pain in a different way - you are more empathetic and sympathetic. You reach out more sincerely and actively, because you just KNOW.
When I read my friend's post, with her heart so openly splayed out, I could feel her anguish from thousands of miles away. One thing she said, though, struck a different cord. She said something about how she felt too old to be going back into the world of dating. Now, friend if you're reading this I know those weren't your exact words - still, it hit me in a strange way. Why? Because I would give ANYTHING to be back in my 30's and in the dating pool.
And I know it's one of those things - because we're only in our own heads. So, a 28-year-old is newly single and thinks "Oh god, not this again! It's so much harder now." And a newly single 35-year-old thinks, "Really? I have to do this again? I thought it was all over with!" Seriously though... doing this again in your late forties? Not so much fun.
Well. Wait. I have said in the past and I still think it's true: Dating is fun. And it is. But the available pool of men is shallower. Guys in this age group think they can get a woman ten years younger than them. And, for the most part, they can. Or they are set in their ways: "if you won't go camping with me, I won't date you." Uh. Okay.Or they're damaged from past relationships, and because they don't want to be hurt again, they don't give as much this time around.
Let's just say it can be a challenge.
Quite frankly, I'm a little tired of challenges. My life has been one big challenge after another. It's never been easy - and I'm not whining about how bad my life is - honestly that's not it. I just haven't figured out how to recover from the gaffe that was my last long-term relationship.
So, I dunno... maybe this girl should walk into a bar. Who knows? Maybe I'll meet a rabbi, a priest and a minister, and then I'll have a new story to tell.
.
A few of my friends on FaceBook were first my friends on LiveJournal. I used to blog there every day. Every. Single. Day. And I pretty much did that for years - with maybe a day or two missed here and there. But after a while, I started blogging once or twice a week. And then maybe once a week. And then once a month... and now rarely.
The downhill slope started when things were just not good in my life. While blogging is a release of sorts, I started realizing that my normally funny and light blogs were heavy and depressing. And, honestly? I sometimes didn't even know what to write. My life was falling apart, and I wasn't even sure what was happening - how could I tell that story? And really, did I want to tell that story?
But LiveJournal is my first love, and while I sometimes get caught up in the fun social aspect of FB - Fairyland, status updates, YouTube clips - I miss the more tangible and heartfelt connections on LJ. So, I still blog there occasionally, and I do check in to catch up on my friends list, which brings me to the heart of this post.
Today I read a post from someone who is going through something really difficult. And I could FEEL it when I read it. I could feel her angst. Her frustration. Her sadness. Her desperation. And sadly, I could relate to it because I was in a similar place last year myself.
It's kind of like death - when someone you know loses a loved one, you murmur how sorry you are and move on. But, if you lost someone yourself, you know that pain in a different way - you are more empathetic and sympathetic. You reach out more sincerely and actively, because you just KNOW.
When I read my friend's post, with her heart so openly splayed out, I could feel her anguish from thousands of miles away. One thing she said, though, struck a different cord. She said something about how she felt too old to be going back into the world of dating. Now, friend if you're reading this I know those weren't your exact words - still, it hit me in a strange way. Why? Because I would give ANYTHING to be back in my 30's and in the dating pool.
And I know it's one of those things - because we're only in our own heads. So, a 28-year-old is newly single and thinks "Oh god, not this again! It's so much harder now." And a newly single 35-year-old thinks, "Really? I have to do this again? I thought it was all over with!" Seriously though... doing this again in your late forties? Not so much fun.
Well. Wait. I have said in the past and I still think it's true: Dating is fun. And it is. But the available pool of men is shallower. Guys in this age group think they can get a woman ten years younger than them. And, for the most part, they can. Or they are set in their ways: "if you won't go camping with me, I won't date you." Uh. Okay.Or they're damaged from past relationships, and because they don't want to be hurt again, they don't give as much this time around.
Let's just say it can be a challenge.
Quite frankly, I'm a little tired of challenges. My life has been one big challenge after another. It's never been easy - and I'm not whining about how bad my life is - honestly that's not it. I just haven't figured out how to recover from the gaffe that was my last long-term relationship.
So, I dunno... maybe this girl should walk into a bar. Who knows? Maybe I'll meet a rabbi, a priest and a minister, and then I'll have a new story to tell.
.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Little Earthquakes
As the song says, "My hands are shaking and my knees are weak." Well, my hands aren't shaking, really - it's my legs. They just won't stop shaking. Saving myself for marriage probably alleviated a lot of angst along the years. I know - I didn't get married. But Mr. Kim and I were in, well, an eleven year relationship that was supposed to end in marriage - or death. But it didn't. And he was my first - therefore, the angst I had with him was, well, to be expected. And it was part of a long-term thing - which leaves me unprepared in dealing with short term things...
So, I went out into the dating world, newly single and feeling like a virgin. Believe me, this make believe virgin made a lot of mistakes. But when I met Les, I felt like I was doing something right.
From the beginning, everything he said or did indicated that he thought I was great. He liked me. He called me - sometimes twice a day. He emailed me constantly. He said all the right things. And then we had sex. And the budding relationship changed from something that could have been really great into just sex.
At first, my naivete prevented me from seeing what was happening right before my very eyes. Before Les and I had sex, he called me. Every day. Emailed me. Every day. Sometimes I heard from him twice. Or three times. Sometimes I got emails AND phone calls. But after we had sex?
Oh wait. Yes, right after we had sex, he kind of kept it up (no pun intended). But then, contact slowly ebbed away. I might not hear from him for days. And as the sex was so explosive and so wonderful, I kind of - yes I admit it - ignored some of the signs that he wasn't that into me.
But he wasn't. And today just cemented that in my brain harder and stronger than anything else he did before now.
He apparently saw me on the wine walk. I didn't see him - I was walking with my friend towards Sierra Tap House(the other witches went to Silver Peak, but neither of us like it there, so we told them we'd meet them at the Tap House). Did he come find me? No. Instead, he emailed me - not right after the wine walk - nope. He emailed me an hour ago. And did he say anything nice? Judge for yourself:
Did you have a good time on the wine walk today? I saw you once, I was in line at the sweet shop next door to the tap house. When I came out I couldn't find you and didn't see you again!I was a little surprised to see you dressed as a witch, is that for Halloween? Have a good weekend. See you soon.
I wasn't sure what to say - but being as I am running on wine, I of course had a lot to say. It began a little something like this;
It's not particularly a "Halloween" thing - it's a Black Hat Society thing. We dress up as witches for every October wine walk.
I'm a witch - if you haven't figured that out already.
Then being as I was feeling a bit, ahem, uninhibited, I went on to say that he wouldn't be seeing me soon. That it was over in my book. He didn't seem that into me. He didn't compliment me, unless we were naked - and even then it was rare. He didn't call or seem to ever want to do anything with me outside of his apartment.
I went on to tell him that I wasn't even mad at him - I took full responsibility. We had sex way too soon, and that was my fault.
Blah, blah, blah, yadda yadda yadda - you catch my drift.
His response? "Wow - well I hope you find what you are looking for."
Um, yeah, thanks buddy. You just proved it to me with that very short response - you aren't into me. At all. And, yes, I made the mistake of telling him that. To which he replied that he thinks I'm an "awesome lady," but that I could have picked up the phone to call him.
Huh? In what world does a girl chase a guy? Or rather, in what world does a girl chase a guy and it actually WORKS?
It kind of doesn't matter, because the upshot is: it's really over. And done with. And for me, there's no turning back.
As my legs were shaking after reading that last email (and why my legs, I have no idea), the phone rang. It was Les! He called to try to convince me to go out with him again. I answered eagerly: "Hello?"
"Hi Pamela - it's Eddie."
Oh. Eddie. Yeah, the guy from Winnemucca. The one I haven't seen in over a month, but who apparently still adores me. Yeah, that Eddie.
And we talked. But honestly? I was so still mulling Les-things over that I wasn't fully engaged in what he was saying - that is until he started questioning my beliefs. We started arguing - and I told him I needed to stop. It was too late, and I wasn't going to argue with him about religion or beliefs or what have you. I told him simply that he could think what he wanted about my beliefs - but he couldn't change them, nor could I ever change his.
He talked some more about how he wants to take me out next weekend, blah, blah - and I wasn't really listening. I was still worked up about the religious discussion, and I was also worked up about Les. So, we ended up saying good night, and I went back to writing this blog entry.
And the phone rang again. At 11:45 p.m.
Could it be Les? Nah, of course it was Eddie. I answered. Yep. It was Eddie.
He started saying something that made absolutely no sense to me. He said that he adored me (well, wait. That makes sense. Who wouldn't adore me?), but the part that didn't make sense was that he wanted to be sure I didn't over think things he said, and blah, blah, blah - what? Huh? I was confused. And he said he wanted me to know that even though he is talking to other girls, that I was still his first choice.
Really? Did he mention he was talking and/or seeing other women during our last phone conversation? How did I miss it? Was I honestly so into mulling over the Les-thing that I totally missed that? (of course the answer is "yes.")
I said no worries - we're grown ups. Of course we're dating other people. What did I expect? It had been over a month since I'd seen him - I figured he was seeing other people, just like I had been.
Eddie said, "What? You're dating other people?"
Um. Yes, hello.... remember? Haven't seen you for a month!
Well, now that he knows that, he REALLY wants to see me next weekend. I'll have to fit him in - I'm kind of busy next weekend. I have a costume party to go to, and a full moon ceremony to host.
But I'll fit him in. Why? Because he adores me.
I think I need a little adoration in my life right now. And really, who doesn't?
So, I went out into the dating world, newly single and feeling like a virgin. Believe me, this make believe virgin made a lot of mistakes. But when I met Les, I felt like I was doing something right.
From the beginning, everything he said or did indicated that he thought I was great. He liked me. He called me - sometimes twice a day. He emailed me constantly. He said all the right things. And then we had sex. And the budding relationship changed from something that could have been really great into just sex.
At first, my naivete prevented me from seeing what was happening right before my very eyes. Before Les and I had sex, he called me. Every day. Emailed me. Every day. Sometimes I heard from him twice. Or three times. Sometimes I got emails AND phone calls. But after we had sex?
Oh wait. Yes, right after we had sex, he kind of kept it up (no pun intended). But then, contact slowly ebbed away. I might not hear from him for days. And as the sex was so explosive and so wonderful, I kind of - yes I admit it - ignored some of the signs that he wasn't that into me.
But he wasn't. And today just cemented that in my brain harder and stronger than anything else he did before now.
He apparently saw me on the wine walk. I didn't see him - I was walking with my friend towards Sierra Tap House(the other witches went to Silver Peak, but neither of us like it there, so we told them we'd meet them at the Tap House). Did he come find me? No. Instead, he emailed me - not right after the wine walk - nope. He emailed me an hour ago. And did he say anything nice? Judge for yourself:
Did you have a good time on the wine walk today? I saw you once, I was in line at the sweet shop next door to the tap house. When I came out I couldn't find you and didn't see you again!I was a little surprised to see you dressed as a witch, is that for Halloween? Have a good weekend. See you soon.
I wasn't sure what to say - but being as I am running on wine, I of course had a lot to say. It began a little something like this;
It's not particularly a "Halloween" thing - it's a Black Hat Society thing. We dress up as witches for every October wine walk.
I'm a witch - if you haven't figured that out already.
Then being as I was feeling a bit, ahem, uninhibited, I went on to say that he wouldn't be seeing me soon. That it was over in my book. He didn't seem that into me. He didn't compliment me, unless we were naked - and even then it was rare. He didn't call or seem to ever want to do anything with me outside of his apartment.
I went on to tell him that I wasn't even mad at him - I took full responsibility. We had sex way too soon, and that was my fault.
Blah, blah, blah, yadda yadda yadda - you catch my drift.
His response? "Wow - well I hope you find what you are looking for."
Um, yeah, thanks buddy. You just proved it to me with that very short response - you aren't into me. At all. And, yes, I made the mistake of telling him that. To which he replied that he thinks I'm an "awesome lady," but that I could have picked up the phone to call him.
Huh? In what world does a girl chase a guy? Or rather, in what world does a girl chase a guy and it actually WORKS?
It kind of doesn't matter, because the upshot is: it's really over. And done with. And for me, there's no turning back.
As my legs were shaking after reading that last email (and why my legs, I have no idea), the phone rang. It was Les! He called to try to convince me to go out with him again. I answered eagerly: "Hello?"
"Hi Pamela - it's Eddie."
Oh. Eddie. Yeah, the guy from Winnemucca. The one I haven't seen in over a month, but who apparently still adores me. Yeah, that Eddie.
And we talked. But honestly? I was so still mulling Les-things over that I wasn't fully engaged in what he was saying - that is until he started questioning my beliefs. We started arguing - and I told him I needed to stop. It was too late, and I wasn't going to argue with him about religion or beliefs or what have you. I told him simply that he could think what he wanted about my beliefs - but he couldn't change them, nor could I ever change his.
He talked some more about how he wants to take me out next weekend, blah, blah - and I wasn't really listening. I was still worked up about the religious discussion, and I was also worked up about Les. So, we ended up saying good night, and I went back to writing this blog entry.
And the phone rang again. At 11:45 p.m.
Could it be Les? Nah, of course it was Eddie. I answered. Yep. It was Eddie.
He started saying something that made absolutely no sense to me. He said that he adored me (well, wait. That makes sense. Who wouldn't adore me?), but the part that didn't make sense was that he wanted to be sure I didn't over think things he said, and blah, blah, blah - what? Huh? I was confused. And he said he wanted me to know that even though he is talking to other girls, that I was still his first choice.
Really? Did he mention he was talking and/or seeing other women during our last phone conversation? How did I miss it? Was I honestly so into mulling over the Les-thing that I totally missed that? (of course the answer is "yes.")
I said no worries - we're grown ups. Of course we're dating other people. What did I expect? It had been over a month since I'd seen him - I figured he was seeing other people, just like I had been.
Eddie said, "What? You're dating other people?"
Um. Yes, hello.... remember? Haven't seen you for a month!
Well, now that he knows that, he REALLY wants to see me next weekend. I'll have to fit him in - I'm kind of busy next weekend. I have a costume party to go to, and a full moon ceremony to host.
But I'll fit him in. Why? Because he adores me.
I think I need a little adoration in my life right now. And really, who doesn't?
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Period. The End.
Driving home tonight, I knew it would be the last time I'd be driving home from Les' place. I went there for two reasons: One, because my pants were on fire. Two, as a test. A test he failed. A test I failed. And as this isn't a grade I want to retake, I'll take the fail gladly and move on.
When we first started getting to know each other and date, we were going like gang-busters. He couldn't get enough of me. He would call me and email me. He would make plans in advance to see me. He'd tell me he'd call, and he'd actually call.
Then we had sex.
I know I moved too soon. Believe me, I know it. But after eleven years of saying "yes" (and I know, Mr. Kim would beg to differ), I just honestly don't know how to say "no" any more. Once I'm naked, I just don't see the point of saying "no." The only words that want to fall from my lips are, "What are you waiting for? Let's get to it!"
So yes, sex on the fourth date wasn't the brightest thing I ever did in my whole life. But, he still seemed so into me. He emailed me before I got home to tell me how great it was, how great I was, how much he enjoyed himself, how much fun I was, blah, blah, blah - and I beamed with joy.
The next time garnered a similar result. But soon afterward the phone calls stopped. And the emails weren't as regular. Two days would pass, and I wouldn't hear back from him at all.
Then out of the blue he told me he had an extra wireless set-up - he'd hook me up and connect it to my Wii. He even picked up and paid for the extra cable needed. The hookup didn't work - and he came back a few days later to try it again after doing some research. It still didn't work. He took down some information, told me he'd do some more research and finish up the job.
And then I didn't hear from him for days. I got anxious. I couldn't sleep. Couldn't eat. Couldn't even drink. And you know it's bad when homey isn't even interested in a glass of wine.
Then against the text in every relationship book I've ever read, and against the advice of my married male co-worker, I emailed him. I kept it brief and to the point. I received almost an immediate response. He was so sorry that he wasn't contacting me as regularly. He was into me. And to prove it, he invited me over for a movie and wine.
Well, I don't know if that proved it to me. It wasn't a date - not a real one. But I went anyway, because I wanted to see him. To touch him. To talk to him. To kiss him.
We only watched 15 minutes of the movie before our clothes were on the floor.
And as much fun as it was for me that night physically, - he is very attentive - I went home feeling empty. I knew in my heart that this had morphed from a potential romance to an FWB. And I take full responsibility - I was way too easy.
This weekend marked one year since my mom's passing. When I got home on Sunday night, I spent time in ritual, remembering her life and her importance to me. Afterward, I went to bed and it dawned on me that she would want better for me.
I wasn't going to see Les again. I couldn't. But then there was an email waiting for me Monday morning - he sent it late Sunday night. He asked me if everything went well when I was with my dad. He asked if I was okay. And he said he would call later in the week to make plans.
I decided not to answer. To end it there. It was a fairly nice email, sure. But it just wasn't enough, and I wanted more.
My non-response did not go unnoticed. He emailed me two more times. Was I okay? Had he upset me? Could he do anything to make it up to me?
I remembered how I felt when I was on the other end of that, and decided to write back. I didn't want to lie, but then again I didn't want to be completely honest, either. So I said the truth - but not the whole truth: that my homecoming was rough and I was dealing with it.
I didn't go into detail. I didn't explain. I left it at that.
He immediately emailed me back - "I'm here for you if you want to talk." Um. Okay - that's nice, but a guy who was really into me would have simply picked up the phone and said, "Peej, are you okay? Can I do something for you?" He didn't - email is the easy way out and I recognized that immediately.
My married male co-worker said, "Pamela, I think he really likes you. He may not know what to do with that, though, so he's keeping a distance." And I know my married male co-worker means well - but I am done hanging on to false hope. I had really been into Les. I knew he was someone I could fall in love with. And yet, with one email - just that one - I was no longer into him.
But I did wonder this: as we had so much sexual chemistry, could I, now that I had fallen out of like, actually be in a purely sexual relationship with him? Do I have in me?
I pondered on this a lot the last few days. When I thought about the sexual aspect of it - of how it was when we were together - I would think, "Yes, I can do this." I can honestly say I have not had this type of explosive reaction to anyone - not even Mr. Kim. Of course, let's face it, I'm also still a novice. Mr. Kim was my first - and there were only two others after him. Still... with Mr. Kim as my baseline, this thing I had with Les was overwhelmingly delightful and sexually delicious. Could I make that part of it last?
Yet another part of me, the part of me that lost respect for him, thought no. Not because my body wouldn't react; I was pretty sure it would. It was because I felt he wasn't worthy - why give him something when he hasn't worked for it at all?
I thought I had my answer, until he emailed me today. We ended up having some sexually charged exchanges, and I went ahead and engaged because I decided I'd test this out. Could it work? Maybe. Would it work? I had to find out.
We met tonight, and it didn't take us long to hit the sheets. And it was as wonderful as ever. However after it was over, I pulled myself out of it and took a long hard look at him. And at me. And at...this. Whatever it is. It was then that I decided no, this wasn't going to work.
I made sure I gathered up all my things, because I didn't want to have any reason to have to return. We said good night. He kissed me. And then I left.
As I drove home, I thought of a lot of things. I remembered The Sailor, and our time together. That was the closest thing to an FWB I ever had. And it worked, because he treated me like a prize. He took me to dinner - every time we went out. We talked. Watched movies. All that, plus the other - or as close to the other we could get to, seeing as he couldn't physically consummate our affair.
I thought of my parents, and how I know they would want something better for me. I thought of a couple of guys I currently know that I would like to get to know better. I want to be absolutely free to do so. And I thought of myself - and realized that maybe an FWB could still work for me, but not with Les.
When I pulled into my driveway, I knew I wouldn't be returning to Les' place ever again. I walked through the door, took off all my clothes and jumped into the shower. I scrubbed myself clean. I washed my clothes. I burned some sage.
It is over. It is finished. C'est la vie. Que Sera, Sera. Peace out.
When we first started getting to know each other and date, we were going like gang-busters. He couldn't get enough of me. He would call me and email me. He would make plans in advance to see me. He'd tell me he'd call, and he'd actually call.
Then we had sex.
I know I moved too soon. Believe me, I know it. But after eleven years of saying "yes" (and I know, Mr. Kim would beg to differ), I just honestly don't know how to say "no" any more. Once I'm naked, I just don't see the point of saying "no." The only words that want to fall from my lips are, "What are you waiting for? Let's get to it!"
So yes, sex on the fourth date wasn't the brightest thing I ever did in my whole life. But, he still seemed so into me. He emailed me before I got home to tell me how great it was, how great I was, how much he enjoyed himself, how much fun I was, blah, blah, blah - and I beamed with joy.
The next time garnered a similar result. But soon afterward the phone calls stopped. And the emails weren't as regular. Two days would pass, and I wouldn't hear back from him at all.
Then out of the blue he told me he had an extra wireless set-up - he'd hook me up and connect it to my Wii. He even picked up and paid for the extra cable needed. The hookup didn't work - and he came back a few days later to try it again after doing some research. It still didn't work. He took down some information, told me he'd do some more research and finish up the job.
And then I didn't hear from him for days. I got anxious. I couldn't sleep. Couldn't eat. Couldn't even drink. And you know it's bad when homey isn't even interested in a glass of wine.
Then against the text in every relationship book I've ever read, and against the advice of my married male co-worker, I emailed him. I kept it brief and to the point. I received almost an immediate response. He was so sorry that he wasn't contacting me as regularly. He was into me. And to prove it, he invited me over for a movie and wine.
Well, I don't know if that proved it to me. It wasn't a date - not a real one. But I went anyway, because I wanted to see him. To touch him. To talk to him. To kiss him.
We only watched 15 minutes of the movie before our clothes were on the floor.
And as much fun as it was for me that night physically, - he is very attentive - I went home feeling empty. I knew in my heart that this had morphed from a potential romance to an FWB. And I take full responsibility - I was way too easy.
This weekend marked one year since my mom's passing. When I got home on Sunday night, I spent time in ritual, remembering her life and her importance to me. Afterward, I went to bed and it dawned on me that she would want better for me.
I wasn't going to see Les again. I couldn't. But then there was an email waiting for me Monday morning - he sent it late Sunday night. He asked me if everything went well when I was with my dad. He asked if I was okay. And he said he would call later in the week to make plans.
I decided not to answer. To end it there. It was a fairly nice email, sure. But it just wasn't enough, and I wanted more.
My non-response did not go unnoticed. He emailed me two more times. Was I okay? Had he upset me? Could he do anything to make it up to me?
I remembered how I felt when I was on the other end of that, and decided to write back. I didn't want to lie, but then again I didn't want to be completely honest, either. So I said the truth - but not the whole truth: that my homecoming was rough and I was dealing with it.
I didn't go into detail. I didn't explain. I left it at that.
He immediately emailed me back - "I'm here for you if you want to talk." Um. Okay - that's nice, but a guy who was really into me would have simply picked up the phone and said, "Peej, are you okay? Can I do something for you?" He didn't - email is the easy way out and I recognized that immediately.
My married male co-worker said, "Pamela, I think he really likes you. He may not know what to do with that, though, so he's keeping a distance." And I know my married male co-worker means well - but I am done hanging on to false hope. I had really been into Les. I knew he was someone I could fall in love with. And yet, with one email - just that one - I was no longer into him.
But I did wonder this: as we had so much sexual chemistry, could I, now that I had fallen out of like, actually be in a purely sexual relationship with him? Do I have in me?
I pondered on this a lot the last few days. When I thought about the sexual aspect of it - of how it was when we were together - I would think, "Yes, I can do this." I can honestly say I have not had this type of explosive reaction to anyone - not even Mr. Kim. Of course, let's face it, I'm also still a novice. Mr. Kim was my first - and there were only two others after him. Still... with Mr. Kim as my baseline, this thing I had with Les was overwhelmingly delightful and sexually delicious. Could I make that part of it last?
Yet another part of me, the part of me that lost respect for him, thought no. Not because my body wouldn't react; I was pretty sure it would. It was because I felt he wasn't worthy - why give him something when he hasn't worked for it at all?
I thought I had my answer, until he emailed me today. We ended up having some sexually charged exchanges, and I went ahead and engaged because I decided I'd test this out. Could it work? Maybe. Would it work? I had to find out.
We met tonight, and it didn't take us long to hit the sheets. And it was as wonderful as ever. However after it was over, I pulled myself out of it and took a long hard look at him. And at me. And at...this. Whatever it is. It was then that I decided no, this wasn't going to work.
I made sure I gathered up all my things, because I didn't want to have any reason to have to return. We said good night. He kissed me. And then I left.
As I drove home, I thought of a lot of things. I remembered The Sailor, and our time together. That was the closest thing to an FWB I ever had. And it worked, because he treated me like a prize. He took me to dinner - every time we went out. We talked. Watched movies. All that, plus the other - or as close to the other we could get to, seeing as he couldn't physically consummate our affair.
I thought of my parents, and how I know they would want something better for me. I thought of a couple of guys I currently know that I would like to get to know better. I want to be absolutely free to do so. And I thought of myself - and realized that maybe an FWB could still work for me, but not with Les.
When I pulled into my driveway, I knew I wouldn't be returning to Les' place ever again. I walked through the door, took off all my clothes and jumped into the shower. I scrubbed myself clean. I washed my clothes. I burned some sage.
It is over. It is finished. C'est la vie. Que Sera, Sera. Peace out.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Is He Just Not That Into Me?
Dating in mid-life is not easy. As much as we like to pretend we're strong, happy individuals without any baggage, the truth is at this point in our lives we're all a little damaged in some form or fashion. And it affects how we process and deal with dating issues, like last minute cancellations.
Last week with Les was pretty good. We had a bump, but we were able to work through it. It was simply a case of miscommunication – or rather, poor communication. We got through it with flying colors – and important first step was conquered.
We had a nice date on Thursday at the drive-in, and then on Friday night we rented a movie to watch at his place. I simply don’t know why we bothered – we only saw about ten minutes of the movie, and before I knew it, I was excusing myself at 1:30 a.m. so I could go home. I had the option to stay, but the truth is I wasn’t feeling all that great, and when that happens, my own bed is the best remedy.
We had tentative plans to try watching the movie again on Saturday night. I had a busy day ahead of me, and he had plans to meet with friends for Street Vibrations. My day consisted of getting up far earlier than I wanted to in order to drag my butt to DMV to get my car registered. After a four hour wait and running some errands afterward, I honestly didn’t feel like going to Les’ to finish watching the movie. So when I got home and saw he had emailed me from his phone asking if we could postpone until Sunday, I said yes. He actually gave me the option – he said we could still do Saturday night as planned, or move it to Sunday. I opted for Sunday, as a nap was calling out my name.
Sunday morning, my toilet tanked out on me again. Instead of paying every spare penny I have to a plumber, I decided to fix it on my own. I went to Lowe’s to get a snake, and while I was out, ran a few more errands. I got home, tackled the toilet, took a shower, and then sat down in front of the computer. I found an email from Les, stating he either partied too hard with his friends or was coming down with the flu – either way, he was feeling unwell and said he would have to cancel out on the movie for Sunday. He said he was going back to bed and would call me later.
Later never came.
Now, perhaps later never came because at some point, me being me, I emailed him the following: Do you realize that we haven't even been seeing each other a month, and you've used that excuse three times already? Either that's your go-to excuse, or you, my friend, have the body of a 72-year-old. Hope you feel better soon.
When I wrote it, I thought it sounded light-hearted, but later when I never received the promised phone call, I decided I probably sounded bitchy. The fact is, I felt a little bitchy. And this is where my past with Mr. Kim catches up with me.
See, for the most part I believe I’m being honest when I say I’m healthy and happy and ready to date. And when I say I’ve got baggage, but it’s safely stored away, that is true – at least for the most part. But, see, something about that last “I’m sick” triggered something in me – that feeling that perhaps he wasn’t sick, or maybe he was simply sick of me.
No matter how far I’ve come and how much I’ve conquered, the truth is I’m still that 16-year-old who was cheated on by her boyfriend. Repeatedly. And I’m still that twenty-something who didn’t have a relationship last longer than six months. And I’m still that thirty-something year old who thought she found the love of her life, only to discover that there are some hurdles love simply can’t jump, like distance. And I’m still that 46-year-old who discovered that the man she considered her life partner was looking elsewhere for a partner.
In other words, while I think and believe I am a great catch, there is evidence to prove otherwise – that is, if that’s how I choose to look at all the failed relationships I’ve had. Oh sure, I know that in most cases, the fit just wasn’t right. My boyfriend in high school loved me, but his hormones had trouble being true to a girlfriend who lived in a different city. And the relationships that didn’t last over six months in my twenties didn’t last longer for reasons that had nothing to do with who I was, rather than who I picked. And the long-distance relationship I had in my thirties didn’t stand a chance in the first place – it was just a hopeful romantic heart that hoped it could. But the last one, yes that last one was supposed to last. And it didn’t. And I’m still recovering, even though for the most part I think I’m over it.
So now I’m in this brand new something (I hesitate at calling it a relationship because it’s only a month old), and I question things. Does he really like me for me? Was I too easy? Should I have held out? Is he really sick? When he says he can’t take me out because finances are tight, is that the truth? Are we moving forward or is it just an illusion?
I have no answers – and that frustrates me to no end.
Last week with Les was pretty good. We had a bump, but we were able to work through it. It was simply a case of miscommunication – or rather, poor communication. We got through it with flying colors – and important first step was conquered.
We had a nice date on Thursday at the drive-in, and then on Friday night we rented a movie to watch at his place. I simply don’t know why we bothered – we only saw about ten minutes of the movie, and before I knew it, I was excusing myself at 1:30 a.m. so I could go home. I had the option to stay, but the truth is I wasn’t feeling all that great, and when that happens, my own bed is the best remedy.
We had tentative plans to try watching the movie again on Saturday night. I had a busy day ahead of me, and he had plans to meet with friends for Street Vibrations. My day consisted of getting up far earlier than I wanted to in order to drag my butt to DMV to get my car registered. After a four hour wait and running some errands afterward, I honestly didn’t feel like going to Les’ to finish watching the movie. So when I got home and saw he had emailed me from his phone asking if we could postpone until Sunday, I said yes. He actually gave me the option – he said we could still do Saturday night as planned, or move it to Sunday. I opted for Sunday, as a nap was calling out my name.
Sunday morning, my toilet tanked out on me again. Instead of paying every spare penny I have to a plumber, I decided to fix it on my own. I went to Lowe’s to get a snake, and while I was out, ran a few more errands. I got home, tackled the toilet, took a shower, and then sat down in front of the computer. I found an email from Les, stating he either partied too hard with his friends or was coming down with the flu – either way, he was feeling unwell and said he would have to cancel out on the movie for Sunday. He said he was going back to bed and would call me later.
Later never came.
Now, perhaps later never came because at some point, me being me, I emailed him the following: Do you realize that we haven't even been seeing each other a month, and you've used that excuse three times already? Either that's your go-to excuse, or you, my friend, have the body of a 72-year-old. Hope you feel better soon.
When I wrote it, I thought it sounded light-hearted, but later when I never received the promised phone call, I decided I probably sounded bitchy. The fact is, I felt a little bitchy. And this is where my past with Mr. Kim catches up with me.
See, for the most part I believe I’m being honest when I say I’m healthy and happy and ready to date. And when I say I’ve got baggage, but it’s safely stored away, that is true – at least for the most part. But, see, something about that last “I’m sick” triggered something in me – that feeling that perhaps he wasn’t sick, or maybe he was simply sick of me.
No matter how far I’ve come and how much I’ve conquered, the truth is I’m still that 16-year-old who was cheated on by her boyfriend. Repeatedly. And I’m still that twenty-something who didn’t have a relationship last longer than six months. And I’m still that thirty-something year old who thought she found the love of her life, only to discover that there are some hurdles love simply can’t jump, like distance. And I’m still that 46-year-old who discovered that the man she considered her life partner was looking elsewhere for a partner.
In other words, while I think and believe I am a great catch, there is evidence to prove otherwise – that is, if that’s how I choose to look at all the failed relationships I’ve had. Oh sure, I know that in most cases, the fit just wasn’t right. My boyfriend in high school loved me, but his hormones had trouble being true to a girlfriend who lived in a different city. And the relationships that didn’t last over six months in my twenties didn’t last longer for reasons that had nothing to do with who I was, rather than who I picked. And the long-distance relationship I had in my thirties didn’t stand a chance in the first place – it was just a hopeful romantic heart that hoped it could. But the last one, yes that last one was supposed to last. And it didn’t. And I’m still recovering, even though for the most part I think I’m over it.
So now I’m in this brand new something (I hesitate at calling it a relationship because it’s only a month old), and I question things. Does he really like me for me? Was I too easy? Should I have held out? Is he really sick? When he says he can’t take me out because finances are tight, is that the truth? Are we moving forward or is it just an illusion?
I have no answers – and that frustrates me to no end.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Rain Check
Les has been gone for a week. A whole frickin' week. Seven long days. Okay, maybe not so long. I mean, let's face it, I'm not your average stay-at-home kind of gal. I do have a life. But that life seemed more colorful and vibrant whenever I spent time with Les. And I didn't get to do that for a whole week, because he was traveling around the country receiving training on various aspects of his new business.
We talked on Sunday night and made plans for Tuesday. We were going to go to Wild River Grille for some salmon/crab cakes and beer. And then we were gonna, well, catch up. Close and personal like.
We talked again last night. He couldn't wait to see me. He would pick me up at five p.m., and asked me to please send my address one more time.
We sent several emails after our phone call and I found myself giddy with anticipation.
This morning, I got up at 4 a.m. Had some coffee, and then proceeded to vacuum and put stray items away. I freshened up the bedroom, made the bed, and put candles in strategic places.
I burned incense.
I Febreezed the couch.
I used Zero Odor on Purrscilla's nasty spots.
I found myself being a little apprehensive. It has been absolutely AGES since I had a guy over - I mean really "over." I had two different guys over for dinner, but pretty much only dinner. Allowing someone into my "space" is a very personal thing. I don't even invite too many friends over - I have to really trust someone before I let them through the front door.
Well, that, and I have germ issues, so I need to make sure they aren't the type of person to think less of me for making them kick off their shoes in the hallway before coming into the house.
Before leaving for work, I took time to make sure I was well-groomed and clean. I wore a dress to work - unnecessary as work attire, as I work in a business casual atmosphere. Still, I wanted to take no chances, just in case I got off work later than expected. I wanted to be dressed and ready to go come five p.m.
Around 10 a.m., I received an email from Les. I eagerly opened it up, scanned it, and saw something that made my heart stop: "I need to take a rain check on tonight." What? I read it again. Yep. Rain check. I quickly read the rest of the email... "because I was away..." blah, blah, blah, "...financial difficulties..." blah, blah, blah..."money's tight for the next week or two..." blah, blah, blah, "...I will talk to you later."
I was pissed and disappointed at the same time.
Now before you go judging me, let me first state that I've never been "that" woman. You know 'that" woman - the one who won't go out with a guy unless he spends a ton of money on her. Most of my life, money has been tight for me, so I totally understand budgets and restraint in spending, etc.
I know that being with Mr. Kim spoiled me a bit. He had an interesting relationship with money. He viewed it as a renewable resource, and with him, it kind of was. I don't know how he would do it. He could be worried about making bills, and next thing we knew, he would be offered a $100-an-hour contract, with expenses. Problem temporarily solved, and the cycle would repeat over and over again.
He loved extravagant meals out. He often bought me little gifts and flowers. We enjoyed good wine and "top shelf" condiments and groceries. Yes, I got a little spoiled - and then I was laid off and broke up with him all around the same time, and I was back to where I had been for years: budgeting money, buying groceries at Winco and clothes at Goodwill. So, believe me when I say I understand budgets. Streamlining. Cutting back. I honestly do.
What I don't understand is not having an alternate plan. "PJammy, I can't afford to take you to Wild River Grille tonight, but how about we meet for a walk around the Marina?" Or perhaps dinner at his place. Or "I'll bring a bottle of Ménage if you cook dinner." Nothing like that. Just a blanket offer of a rain check.
We haven't seen each other for a week. Sure, we've talked almost daily and sent countless emails - but jeepers, what about actually GETTING TOGETHER as planned?
So yes, I'm pissed.
My co-worker said I'm acting as if I'm already his girlfriend. Maybe I am, and perhaps I have no right to do that. Yet, another part of me says it's just good manners to come up with an alternate, low cost, plan.
It is possible.
If he wanted to.
Which makes me wonder if he really wanted to get together in the first place...
We talked on Sunday night and made plans for Tuesday. We were going to go to Wild River Grille for some salmon/crab cakes and beer. And then we were gonna, well, catch up. Close and personal like.
We talked again last night. He couldn't wait to see me. He would pick me up at five p.m., and asked me to please send my address one more time.
We sent several emails after our phone call and I found myself giddy with anticipation.
This morning, I got up at 4 a.m. Had some coffee, and then proceeded to vacuum and put stray items away. I freshened up the bedroom, made the bed, and put candles in strategic places.
I burned incense.
I Febreezed the couch.
I used Zero Odor on Purrscilla's nasty spots.
I found myself being a little apprehensive. It has been absolutely AGES since I had a guy over - I mean really "over." I had two different guys over for dinner, but pretty much only dinner. Allowing someone into my "space" is a very personal thing. I don't even invite too many friends over - I have to really trust someone before I let them through the front door.
Well, that, and I have germ issues, so I need to make sure they aren't the type of person to think less of me for making them kick off their shoes in the hallway before coming into the house.
Before leaving for work, I took time to make sure I was well-groomed and clean. I wore a dress to work - unnecessary as work attire, as I work in a business casual atmosphere. Still, I wanted to take no chances, just in case I got off work later than expected. I wanted to be dressed and ready to go come five p.m.
Around 10 a.m., I received an email from Les. I eagerly opened it up, scanned it, and saw something that made my heart stop: "I need to take a rain check on tonight." What? I read it again. Yep. Rain check. I quickly read the rest of the email... "because I was away..." blah, blah, blah, "...financial difficulties..." blah, blah, blah..."money's tight for the next week or two..." blah, blah, blah, "...I will talk to you later."
I was pissed and disappointed at the same time.
Now before you go judging me, let me first state that I've never been "that" woman. You know 'that" woman - the one who won't go out with a guy unless he spends a ton of money on her. Most of my life, money has been tight for me, so I totally understand budgets and restraint in spending, etc.
I know that being with Mr. Kim spoiled me a bit. He had an interesting relationship with money. He viewed it as a renewable resource, and with him, it kind of was. I don't know how he would do it. He could be worried about making bills, and next thing we knew, he would be offered a $100-an-hour contract, with expenses. Problem temporarily solved, and the cycle would repeat over and over again.
He loved extravagant meals out. He often bought me little gifts and flowers. We enjoyed good wine and "top shelf" condiments and groceries. Yes, I got a little spoiled - and then I was laid off and broke up with him all around the same time, and I was back to where I had been for years: budgeting money, buying groceries at Winco and clothes at Goodwill. So, believe me when I say I understand budgets. Streamlining. Cutting back. I honestly do.
What I don't understand is not having an alternate plan. "PJammy, I can't afford to take you to Wild River Grille tonight, but how about we meet for a walk around the Marina?" Or perhaps dinner at his place. Or "I'll bring a bottle of Ménage if you cook dinner." Nothing like that. Just a blanket offer of a rain check.
We haven't seen each other for a week. Sure, we've talked almost daily and sent countless emails - but jeepers, what about actually GETTING TOGETHER as planned?
So yes, I'm pissed.
My co-worker said I'm acting as if I'm already his girlfriend. Maybe I am, and perhaps I have no right to do that. Yet, another part of me says it's just good manners to come up with an alternate, low cost, plan.
It is possible.
If he wanted to.
Which makes me wonder if he really wanted to get together in the first place...
Sunday, September 19, 2010
The Sunday Seven
1) I visited my dad this weekend and helped him set up his computer. When I got home and called him to let him know I'd arrived safely, he said, "I think I'm on the Internet." I asked him what the screen looked like. He said, "I was visiting JC Whitney, but now it won't let me leave." "What do you mean," I asked him. "I keep hitting the delete key, but the page is still up."
I couldn't help but laugh.
2) The ride home was one of my easiest in months, despite lane closures on 80E. I listened to "London is the Best City in America" on CD. The drive didn't afford me enough time to listen to the whole thing - and I can't hardly wait to get to the end.
3) When I arrived home, I had one phone message and three email messages from Les. I am so in like I can't hardly stand it.
4) He comes home tomorrow.
5) I can't wait to see him...but I think I have to wait until Tuesday.
6) To dull the pain, I'm on my third glass of wine.
7) Who am I kidding? I wasn't in pain. I just wanted wine.
I couldn't help but laugh.
2) The ride home was one of my easiest in months, despite lane closures on 80E. I listened to "London is the Best City in America" on CD. The drive didn't afford me enough time to listen to the whole thing - and I can't hardly wait to get to the end.
3) When I arrived home, I had one phone message and three email messages from Les. I am so in like I can't hardly stand it.
4) He comes home tomorrow.
5) I can't wait to see him...but I think I have to wait until Tuesday.
6) To dull the pain, I'm on my third glass of wine.
7) Who am I kidding? I wasn't in pain. I just wanted wine.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Ho Hum. It's Tuesday.
Maybe it's because my next boyfriend is out of town. Or maybe it's because I lost out on a free bike. Or maybe it's because I didn't get the job I wanted. Whatever it is, it's left me feeling utterly and completely apathetic. Here are the top five things that I really couldn't care a hoot about:
1) Penelope Cruz is pregnant. Whoop-de-doo. Her voice is annoying and grating, and I wish she'd go back to whatever country it is she came from.
2) George Michael will be jailed for eight weeks. Really? Only eight weeks? No offense, GM, but you really should have gotten a longer stint. And look at the bright side: you won't have to go to any public parks for free sex. I think you can get plenty of action right there in jail. Oh and do remember to wake up your cellmate before you go go.
3) Lady Gaga wore a meat dress. So what? I wear meat every day. It's called "skin" and cannibals love it.
4) Bill Maher claims it is atheism that prevents him from getting an Emmy. Bill, are you completely sure it's atheism, and has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you're boorish and completely unfunny? Jon Stewart has you beat hands down. (Although it could also be because he's one of the Chosen People...)
5) Oprah is taking her audience to Australia. Is there anything this woman won't do to get herself in the news? Really, the only way that broad will ever impress me is if she gives a whole audience full of unemployed people jobs. Now that would be a feat worth talking about.
1) Penelope Cruz is pregnant. Whoop-de-doo. Her voice is annoying and grating, and I wish she'd go back to whatever country it is she came from.
2) George Michael will be jailed for eight weeks. Really? Only eight weeks? No offense, GM, but you really should have gotten a longer stint. And look at the bright side: you won't have to go to any public parks for free sex. I think you can get plenty of action right there in jail. Oh and do remember to wake up your cellmate before you go go.
3) Lady Gaga wore a meat dress. So what? I wear meat every day. It's called "skin" and cannibals love it.
4) Bill Maher claims it is atheism that prevents him from getting an Emmy. Bill, are you completely sure it's atheism, and has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you're boorish and completely unfunny? Jon Stewart has you beat hands down. (Although it could also be because he's one of the Chosen People...)
5) Oprah is taking her audience to Australia. Is there anything this woman won't do to get herself in the news? Really, the only way that broad will ever impress me is if she gives a whole audience full of unemployed people jobs. Now that would be a feat worth talking about.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Minute by Minute
This is my horoscope for today: Tick tock. Tick tock. Is this what your day feels like? It probably will definitely feel like time is crawling today. As you experience minutes feeling like hours think about what you are doing. There is in fact nothing so compelling as to keep you from indulging in a little recreation, PJammy. Your tasks will still be there tomorrow - for now, cut yourself some slack. It has to be better than this!
As I type this, it is 8:21 a.m. In less than 12 hours, I'll be with Les. But... this day is already going by so slowly. There is no work in the queue. No emails to answer. Nothing at all is going on. Just the tick, tick, tick of the clock taunting me with its slowness.
It's odd to think we've only known each other for just less than two weeks. We talk almost every day on the phone. Email often. We have shared so much, and yet still have much to share.
My mind races forward and jumps ahead. Will I miss him when he's away next week? Will we be together come October? November? December?
When I catch myself doing this, I reel myself back in. "This is only going to be our fourth date," I tell myself. "Stop it!"
And I do stop. For a while, anyway.
Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick... can we at least fast forward to tonight?
As I type this, it is 8:21 a.m. In less than 12 hours, I'll be with Les. But... this day is already going by so slowly. There is no work in the queue. No emails to answer. Nothing at all is going on. Just the tick, tick, tick of the clock taunting me with its slowness.
It's odd to think we've only known each other for just less than two weeks. We talk almost every day on the phone. Email often. We have shared so much, and yet still have much to share.
My mind races forward and jumps ahead. Will I miss him when he's away next week? Will we be together come October? November? December?
When I catch myself doing this, I reel myself back in. "This is only going to be our fourth date," I tell myself. "Stop it!"
And I do stop. For a while, anyway.
Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick... can we at least fast forward to tonight?
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