Losing Weight; Finding Men

Closed Blog

2010-05-09T19:29:00.005-04:00

All right, this is the last post of Girl of True Heart.

I invite you to find me at:

Fourth Decade: Sucking the Marrow Out of Life since 1969.

I'll be posting there as One Lusty Sagittarian.

;-)

Special note: For those of you subscribing via email...you now have to click on the sidebar options in the new blog under the You Want Me? title. Options there will allow you to bookmark my blog in your web page favorites. I'm working on an email option and when I have one, I'll let you know.

If you decide to part ways, I wish you well!

Renovations Part II

2010-05-02T19:25:00.003-04:00

There's much about which to blog, but I'm fixated on finding/making a new blog home.

Anyone have any suggestions, don't hesitate.

I just feel it is time. 2007 is so....long....ago.

Renovations

2010-04-29T07:27:00.001-04:00

I don't know if I have any readers left, but stand by....

We're going under construction.

May not be this site, may not be this blog title....

But I will be back, and I will let you know where and when!

Have I Found My People?

2010-04-18T22:48:00.006-04:00

"Take these broken wings
You've got to learn to fly, learn to live and love so free"

I think I may have found my people, and I think freedom is mine for the having.

One night of spanking and look out...I feel set free.

Who knew?
Not me.

Last night...

A bit of an epiphany happened for me.

(Let's pause while we hear harps and angels sing.)

I was at a party of about 100 people (among them were 3 of the people I met last week).

There was such a fascinating cross-section of people. People who were gathered together from many different walks of life and many different generations. And they'd come together for a charity purpose, to donate funds for a beloved friend who is battling cancer.

And they'd chosen to go about raising funds with a spank-a-thon.

I think the highest bidder went for $350.

My own novice spank-worthiness came in at $100. Not bad considering I'd never given my ass more than a passing thought. Let's face it, my ass is just large. I don't have delicious ghetto booty. JLo and I will not be confused anytime soon.

But back to my epiphany. No one cared or passed judgment on anyone else for their size, their color, their interest, their clothing. At least not that I could detect. It was like being in a strange surreality.

Oh sure there were raving compliments about where did you get that and how did you get your hair like that and where did you get those boots and what type of makeup are you wearing, etc. etc. but there didn't seem to be any petty jealousy or snide remarks or anyone being left out in the cold so to speak. Maybe it was just my imagination, but I like to think I'm fairly tuned to the drama that only human females seem capable of creating.

I think this general acceptance must come because these people are already on the outer fringe of unusualness. I mean, hello....they like to spank for fun....so perhaps because they've had to deal with their own form of being thought odd and judged, they understand what it feels like and they don't do it to others.

As for The Actor who invited me, he was so much more than nice to me. He kept me under his wing so to speak, introducing me around even though he was one of the organizers and had a lot of, well, organizing to do.

But when it came time to participate, he didn't let me out of his sight. In fact, he told me he was looking forward to bidding on my ass all night. Not every day a guy tells you that!

And let me tell you something else, that man knows what the hell he is doing. I have the sore buttocks to prove it.

This was not your "You wait until your father gets home, you'll be so sore, you won't sit for a week" 1950s style spanking. This was much more of a prolonged, dare I say, sensual spanking.

It went like whack whack rub / whack whack rub / whack whack rub.

*ahem*

Where was I?

Right. Yes, it was quite enjoyable.

Actually, I felt a lot of tension leave my body. There is a kinetic transfer of energy from one power source into another power source and returned. It was like sharing a moment between bodies despite being fully clothed. The Actor confirmed this sensation, and in fact, he seemed highly charged from it.

So the spankings were fun, and watching everyone else laugh together and joke around were enlightening moments for me. Here was a group of people who - for the timeframe - seemed to be completely enjoying their moments.

For me though, the best moments without a doubt were the long hugs and shoulder massages afterward. I think I need a cuddle fest next.

The Actor confessed to crushing on a married woman (who was not there), and I confessed to only coming to the party to see him (I know...I gave it all away). We had several long looks in which I thought he wanted to kiss me, and instead he went in for either a long hug or a kiss on the cheek. Funny, you can spank someone's ass with your bare hand, but you can't kiss them on the lips. You know, that might send a wrong signal.

Oh well, at the end of the night, he mentioned he would be giving a lecture on humor in May, and he hoped I could attend. I asked him to send me the information by email, and I would do my best to come back into the city.

What I didn't mention, was that I would try to see him before then as well.

"All we have to do now
Is take these ties and make them true somehow
All we have to see
Is that I don't belong to you
And you don't belong to me
Freedom
You've gotta give for what you take
Freedom
You've gotta give for what you take"

Skirt, Boots & a Smile

2010-04-14T08:50:00.005-04:00

Well it seems as though 3 things helped me find some new-found friends in NYC this Saturday:

my skirt (purchased for The Photographer and his motorcycle ride that never came around)
my boots (had them for years, rarely worn)
my smile (always had it, need to use it more)

I went to a group meeting of "BBWs/BHMs and the people who love them."

UGH! I dislike those labels. I dislike most labels. I also never identified with the term BBW, because for the longest time I was under the mis-impression that it stood for Big Black Woman. But even once I learned that was incorrect and it stands for Big Beautiful Woman (and BHM is Big Handsome Man), I still felt it didn't apply to me because I believe the term describes a woman who has large size breasts. That's not me. I'm just fat.

But I went to this meeting because I wanted to be around other woman who felt confident and celebratory of who they are, regardless of size. They indicate in their group description that they promote size acceptance in public places. The event on Saturday was to attend a club together after meeting up at a rendezvous point. Going to a club is something else I've always wanted to do but without local friends, has been impossible for me to accomplish.

I thought it would be a little like walking into an imagined addict's meeting. "Hi my name is ... and I'm a big beautiful woman who is avoiding high GI carbs and trying to lose weight." Wrong silly! This was about size acceptance...this was about seeing women (and men) who were many sizes larger than me sitting down, looking fashionable and beautiful, and eating whatever they wanted to order off the menu.

I was nervous. Too nervous to eat really. Like day-before-I-get-on-an-airplane nervous. But I arrived late and so it was easy enough not to make a big deal out of the food selection. And no one but me cared anyway. They were all engrossed in on-going conversations from movies to food to clubs to online dating profiles to the last group's meeting. There were 50, 40, 30somethings and even a 20something. There was an equal split of men and women, which I learned is not always the case. Everyone was really glad the men were there, as all the women agreed we've had enough kvetching amongst ourselves in general.

Everyone was super friendly, asking me all sorts of questions and expressing both surprise and delight that I had traveled in from Jersey.

It came time to decide to go on to the club or go home. As nervous as I was, there was no way I was going home already. An $8 bridge toll, a $6 taxi ride, and a $4 meal, and I was already invested in seeing this night through to the end, especially as the group was able to discount entry into the club.

Walking down a NYC street with a group of people dressed for clubbing, I felt a glimmer of my former self. It came flashing back, walking down to clubs, feeling that excitement, mostly for the music, the lights, and the sense that one could get "lost" in a crowd. I liked the feeling of my boots, and I mentioned that to the woman walking next to me. One of the guys asked how it felt to be out on the streets of NYC as a self-confessed "country girl" and I told him it felt absolutely exhilarating. And it did. The nerves had turned to butterfly excitement.

But I don't know how people do it on a regular basis. The club was so small. Luckily it wasn't packed or too hot. I wouldn't have been able to contain my suffocating feelings that sometimes surface when space and air are constrained. I was actually thrilled it was so cold out and I didn't feel overheated at all in my boots.

Inside the venue, there were many different types of people. Skinny skinnies and inbetweens, and at first I thought "This place is too small for us..." but it wasn't at all. Somehow the hallways and rooms and stairwells absorbed us. I never felt "too large" at any point. No skinny chick had to "squeeze" by me ever. Must have been a strange alignment of the planets. So the group I was in all wandered around in pairs and trios and chattered and gazed about at the scene. It was good, and I started to enjoy the moment, sipping on my drink.

It wasn't long before people came to mingle with us. Mostly men. Some in jackets, some in t-shirts, some in jeans, some in dress pants. Young, old, and all sorts of colors of the rainbow. Some men had nipple piercings you could see through their shirts and some had facial piercings as well. It was rather unique and different from the windowless walls of the scientific environment I spend most of my days. It reminded me of my college days, and I felt young again.

At one point I was surrounded by 3 men, all talking to me. They were talking to each other as well, but clearly only to be friendly. For every answer they gave the other guys, they added a question to me. Basic small talk, but still it felt good for my ego. They didn't seem to mind my size at all and there were plenty of skinnies to talk to instead if they wanted. One guy from Long Island openly lamented that it was a shame I didn't come into the city more often, and that there are no interesting women where he lives (I am not slamming LI, I've never even been there). I wanted to keep moving around so I said I was going to go get another drink, and before you knew it, they were discussing who was going to buy it for me. It turned into a "you get this one, I'll get the next one." Little did they know there wouldn't be a next one. I was driving later; two drinks max.

Their friends came over and eventually took them away or they excused themselves to hit the restroom, which was all fine by me. I wanted to people watch and just absorb it all and you can't really do that when someone's asking you to remember what your reality is like instead.

So as I was leaning against a railing alone and just sort of staring out into the crowd, I felt someone come up next to me and just stand there as well. He was just surveying the crowd as well. Then he said, "So what do you think?" he gestured with his hand to the room.

I looked over at him. Good looking guy, on the thin, lanky side. Late 30s I guessed. I said, "I like it here..."

He smiled and extended his hand to me, telling me his name. I told him mine and he affirmed it was my first time here, blah blah blah. Where am I from what do I do. I smiled best I could, but I was so tired of small talk. He told me he's an actor, and I raised a brow and asked how it was going. He said he's gotten a few good bit roles lately, notably with a major network of quality TV (you'd be able to guess fairly quickly). I congratulated him and tried not to seem too impressed. Actors don't need anymore ego.

A few of "my people" from my group came over, and....I thought that would be the end of that conversation. But no, they knew him. And I watched their interactions with him. Everyone seemed genuinely warm and friendly. Or he's a good actor. Ha.

Anyway, it was time to go already, and The Actor expressed great disappointment in seeing us go. Other people were exchanging contact information. The 20something was passing around her blackberry for people to add in their email addys. After I did and The Actor did, he looked at me and said I should look him up. I said I would, making a mental note to touch base with the 20something outside. It is well noted that he was too casual about it to give it to me himself, but I was also too lazy to pull my own blackberry out of my boot.

Then someone made a comment about getting together next weekend. And voila! like magic, The Actor pulled out invitations to a party this coming Saturday and passed them around. I have to admit in that moment I was quite giddy.

And when he handed one to me, he leaned in super close (like tickle-my-ear-with-your-breath close) and said, "I hope you can come, I'd love to see you again."

Um-hm.

First thought: what a great actor!

Second thought: why the hell not!?

And once outside, I collect the email addy he gave the 20something, and then I'm walking down the street to catch a cab in my boots and oh-so-obvious-non-city ways. As I'm waiting for the yellow vehicle to reach me, I finally looked down at the invitation in my hand.

Well, this is a first.

I have been invited to a spank-a-thon.

Game Over

2010-04-03T14:09:00.005-04:00

On March 14, I asked, "Can unexpected lustful chemistry grow into something more?"

Three weeks later, I have the answer: Apparently not.

Yes, The Photographer and I were communicating daily, often quite lengthy conversations. He told me over and over and over again how much he couldn't wait to see me.

But once he returned from California, got over jet lag, and began to edit his photo galleries, he refused to set a 2nd date.

I called him on his bluff. He said he has (yes, still) every intention of getting together, he's just "really swamped" -- the similar excuse used before he went away to California.

This despite our 9-, then 12-day challenge to one another to abstain from self-gratification. This despite the trust that I thought I had developed....clearly only in my mind.

Something is not right. His time is not his own. Somehow. Maybe he IS married. Or maybe he is just a clueless guy who thinks he can keep a woman hanging on. Or maybe, Ta-Effin-da (say it with me!) HE'S JUST NOT THAT INTO ME.

Well, guess what? This chick is outta here.

NEXT!

(Oh and yes, I reset the pleasure button. Phew. I feel so much better now.)

Cavoli Beach- Isola D'Elba - Italia

2010-04-03T09:45:00.005-04:00

Who couldn't use a tiny split moment of a beautiful location? (Video snippet below for you emailers who may not see it.)

Compliments of my friend, Molto Bello Italia.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled tortured existence.

(Oh wait, is that just my life?)

Day 10 Plus

2010-03-31T22:27:00.007-04:00

Well, Days 9 and 10 of the Master of My Domain challenge were absolutely brutal for me. And there wasn't even technically supposed to be a Day 10. Erf.

An acquaintance of mine planted a seed in my head on Day 9, oh-so-innocently: "I bet The Photographer's married..."

No. Absolutely not.

I have no reason to think he's lying to me.

*pause*
*pause*
*pause*

Well, he is vague about his schedule...

No. Absolutely not.

GodIeffinhopenotbecauseIwillkickhiseverlovingassalloverthestateofNewJersey.

*breathe*
*breathe*
*breathe*

Long long long conversation with The Photographer today.

Hi, I missed you and I can't wait to see you etc etc etc were his thoughts.

Yeah yadda yadda yadda, when, when, when were my thoughts.

Oh......shit.

You don't just TAKE photos? You have to EDIT them?

Hmph. Hire an bloody assistant!

No of course not. That's like asking someone to rewrite my poems for me.

So the short of it is....

WAIT ANOTHER 2 DAYS.

I'm a cranky, angry, nearly violent Sagittarian woman. I almost took the salon receptionist's head off when she told me there were no timeslots available for waxing until Saturday.

Do not make me wait! Any longer! For anything!

I warned him. Which probably makes me less appealing I realize. But I don't care!

The Photographer has until Saturday midnight or I take matters into my own hands, literally. And he can do the same for all I care!

Just a little addendum....

Some women (more than 3) have said to me: "Oh just take care of it...he'll never know if you did or not."

*blank stare*

Excuse me?

I get it. I do.

But....this was an exercise in trust. Self-control yes, but also trust.

What's wrong with starting a relationship off with trust? Seems an important element to me.

Day 9: Victorious

2010-03-30T08:52:00.005-04:00

Day 9....I am still alive.

The best news is so is The Photographer.

We're on the honor system here, but neither of us have given in to our urges and we remain Masters of our Domains.

It will still be some days until we meet. *sigh*

To celebrate....

(no, not really)

It just so happens that....

I have some free samples of one of the supplements I'm taking as I mentioned in the post February Plan. The samples are tiny vials of liquid hoodia. Please read that post first to make sure you want it.

First person who wants them and leaves me an email address in their comment below, gets them. I'll contact you for a shipping address.

Weight & Food

2010-03-28T20:06:00.008-04:00

Time to write a bit about weight...and food....

When this story came out last week, I was so appalled, I couldn't even share a thought about it with anyone. Yes, indeed, everyone needs to have goals in life, but to become the fattest woman in the world?

Really?

Her name is Donna.
She lives in New Jersey.
And she's not me.
Thank God.

Aiming to be the world's fattest woman

The super-sized mother determined to become the world's fattest woman

Of course, guess what one thing I picked up on while reading those articles?

Yup, she's got someone in her life who loves her. He loves her so much, he's helping her kill herself.

Damn, I wish I had someone like that in my life!

No, of course I don't! But wow....she has someone who accepts her the way she is. That's both beautiful and messed up.

So now that food no longer holds power over me because of the supplements I'm taking, I wanted to document a bit about what I have been choosing to eat. Because of course, it still matters, even if I'm no longer pre-occupied by it.

My main proteins are egg whites, eggs, organic buffalo, chicken, edamame, and whey.

My main veggies are peppers and onions, which have a lot of carbs in them. As soon as the warmer weather comes, I'll start doing salads again.

I would be lost without my shirataki noodles. ALL they are is FIBER! That's it! I mix them with either EVOO, Parmesan cheese, and garlic or with a Thai peanut sauce. I found that having a box of Dreamfield pasta in the house was too much temptation still (as in the whole box is quickly gone).

My favorite snacky items are blueberries, walnuts, nonfat greek yogurt, and ghiradelli 82% dark chocolate (one square/day).

I have mini luna bars in the car for emergencies (peanut butter), and I enjoy one cup of tea in the morning with a vitatop cranbran muffin top.

This weekend, I've just added this 40 cal/4 carb super green food supplement to my menu, mixed with light V8 juice.

As for alcohol intake, it is limited to two Thursdays a month, when out with coworkers. And I suppose the occasional baseball-game-gathering in the future.

Conclusion: I'm eating really well. Better than I've ever eaten in my life.

The benefits can come rolling in anytime now.

Hair Photos

2010-03-28T19:45:00.005-04:00

Below are photos from Saturday, when I went for my free follow-up hair trim to get the dead ends removed one week after the keratin treatment. It is much more of a texture difference than a visual difference, in my opinion.

(Yes, that's static....odd.)

I just hope my hair can go back to normal now. I'm not going to blow dry it every day anymore, and see if that helps too. One day blow it straight, then the next day, wear it wavy.

I also saw the movie "Remember Me." Erf. I thought I was just going to make love to a much younger man on a screen and slip into his smoldering eyes without having to think. But pretty soon into it I realized this movie was going to carry weight beyond that "teen angst" they'd shown in previews. I don't want to give anything away, but if you want to know leave me a message and I'll tell you.

One good thing about losing my mind with this whole 9-day abstinence challenge? I've exercised a lot more than I would have, just to try to offset the physical side of things and tire the mind out as well. I could see applying this kind of restraint in the future for a good purpose. No wonder boxers are told not to have sex when they're training for a fight. Yo, Adrian!

Today is the end of day 7. Mr Photographer flies the redeye home from Cali tomorrow night. The end of March shall set me free. Whether or not it also sets me in his arms remains to be seen.

Day 5: Way Too Long to Go

2010-03-26T07:40:00.005-04:00

I can't count anymore...something like 144 hours left....I don't know. My mind is mush.

When I close my eyes, I see naked men dancing. In a congo line.

How am I going to survive the weekend?

Exercise.
Exercise.
Exercise.
Clean the house.
Watch movies.

Hmmm, no wonder so many married women's homes are so clean....

Keratin Hair Therapy

2010-03-24T07:32:00.002-04:00

Well, I'm here to report that I did not have the horrible experience that some people on the webby are reporting with their keratin hair treatment. But I'm also not going to report that it is a miracle hair saver.

Is my hair softer, lighter, thinner, straighter, and easier to manage? Yes, for the most part. did it hold the hair dye better? Yes, definitely.

What it didn't do is transform my dead hair into alive hair. I still need to have several inches cut off from the bottom. There's just no way around it.

And the sooner I get this done, the sooner it can grow back. But I'm still feeling whiny about it. I like my long hair. But what's the point if you can't effectively style 3-4 inches of it?

Last commentary about getting keratin hair therapy done...

Go to a salon that knows what it is doing. Some people may only have to leave it on for 1 day; some have to leave it on for 3 days. It depends how damaged your hair is, the texture etc.

Know going in that you will not be able to wash or put your hair up into a binder in any way for 1-3 days. I didn't know this and it was a pain in the ass to deal with.

Would I do it again? Well, this is supposed to last 6 months. If it lasts even 3 months, I would say it is worth it at $200. But I'm not sure I would do it again.

48 Hours In (168 Hours Left)

2010-03-24T07:29:00.005-04:00

I'm not sure how good it is for me to focus on time gone by / time left. I think it causes me to miss the time in-between.

The treadmill gave me a good high last night, the lovely release of endorphins and serotonin doing their jobs. Honestly, I was almost too tired to think about self-gratifying myself.

That is of course until I looked at the photo The Photographer sent of himself the previous day to tease me. We're not talking stereotypically dropdead hot here, but there's something about him that makes me swoony and want to hug him.

I'm glad that Sawyer wasn't on last night's episode of LOST. I would have had a hard time.

24 Hours In (192 Hours Left)

2010-03-23T10:05:00.008-04:00

Anyone remember this cute little movie, 40 Days and 40 Nights?

Well, my Nine Day contest definitely isn't for Lent, but it sure is for a greater sense of self empowerment.

At least that is what I'm telling myself after the first 24 hours of abstinence.

I am a self-confessed 2x/day-er. Morning and night.

What?
Why not?
What's wrong with that?
Nothing.
Exactly.

But last night as I put my friend The Blue Dolphin (whom you may refer to as BOB in your life) away somewhere so I wouldn't be reminded of him in the days to come, I thought this little experimental contest with The Photographer is exactly in line with my goals....to achieve control over things that I choose to control. Eating, exercising, self-gratification, it is all one in the same!

TA-EFFIN-DA!

Even though The Photographer got cutesy on me, sending over a shirtless photo of himself to "push me over the edge," while razzing me that I couldn't last 24 hours, I held out!

It's in the bag. I got this.

Master of My Domain: Game On

2010-03-23T09:53:00.008-04:00

WARNING: OK send the ankle-biters and jailbait out of the room. I'm going to talk about sexual things.

A funny thing happened yesterday that I was going to keep to myself. But then I realized after a bit that it was going to somewhat consume me for the rest of March, and there's no way I could not record my thoughts here.

The Photographer and I jokingly (at first) challenged each other to a "Master of My Domain" contest.

Umhm. Do I need to elaborate? Oh you know how good I am at elaborating, but I'll let Jerry, Elaine, George, and Kramer help me explain (until they disable the video feed).

Yes. Can you say, "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!"

Anyone who knows me will know I've given up a lot of things in recent years. I eat better, drink less, workout more, and think positively more than I have ever consciously done in my life. So, really, the idea of "giving up" something else makes me feel a bit like "Holy crap, what else is there to take away?" (Don't answer that, you can't take my baseball, my movies, or my TV from me! I will fight you off! Back!)

But I was touched by The Photographer's approach to our being apart and his willingness to turn the long distance into something we can share together. Instead of focusing on being unable to meet, we're focusing on how great it'll be to achieve something together. In many many ways, it is MUCH too early in knowing each other to share something this intimate, yet it feels OK with me. I'll blame that on spring.

But even if this is going to be nothing more than a spring fling, I can't see it doing me any harm (besides driving my hormones insane) to challenge myself to feel good. And if the reward at the end of the rainbow is the Object of My Lust, sign me up.

So, for you voyeurs who will watch the torture unfold, here are the details:

Length of Time: Nine Days (Started March 22; ends March 31 midnight). This is the length of The Photographer's California trip (plus two days for potential jet lag).

Details: No self-gratification or sex of any kind.

Yes, I will entertain questions! Ask away!

And read the next post for the First 24 Hours.

Spring Things

2010-03-21T11:31:00.015-04:00

There are many things I have to do....bills to pay, some work to catch up on, laundry, yard work, not to mention a week's worth of tv shows DVR'd. And October plane tickets to buy. Who has time for all this?

And to think I wanted to go see Alice in Wonderland, Remember Me, and The Bounty Hunter. What am I thinking?

Priorities, my friends, priorities.

Which is why of course, I'm blogging instead, about lust no less. *rolling eyes here*

Hey, "I'm a Sagittarian" explains everything.

The Spring Thing has hit full force. 40 degrees one day; 75 degrees the next. Too much too soon, I can barely breathe. I mourn the loss of the chill in the air that reminds me I'm alive.

However, spring has stirred my hormones like a pitcher of sangria, and I've been in lustful communication with both Mr Real Potential and The Photographer on a daily basis. Sadly, lustful communication does not translate into a 2nd face-to-face date with either.

Mr Real Potential is due back in Jersey this week, yet for some reason that's not happening. Perhaps next week, he says. We talk about Sox and socks and dogs and how it is still 46 degrees in Minnesota and what we'll do when we see each other again (I like the dinner option, and he's favoring the ripping the clothes off option which I secretly favor as well).

The Photographer and I were supposed to get together today, but it's not happening. And I'm annoyed but realize that I cannot be a petulant child about this. We're adults with lives. Right? Right. I'm trying to figure out how his life works. It is rather complicated it seems, and it may be too complicated and busy for me to fit into it. But if a guy wants a woman in his life, he'll make it happen.

So we talk a lot, but I find myself thinking if he'd just come see me instead of talking about it....I don't know. He's got an unexpected shoot (how do those happen I wonder) today, and he's got an earlier than thought flight to California Monday night. So it is what it is. He got me with the line, "When I see you again I don't just want to spend an hour and leave you," so he gets a pass for being romantic. He'll be gone for 7 days, working on a golf and bikini tournament. I kid you not. So there's balls and breasts and asses and god knows what else for him to deal with on a daily working basis. Perhaps I'll be some sanity in his day to text message? I don't know how it'll be. But I guess we'll see. If he's with a bevvy of bikini models and it is me he's messaging....I would think that's a good sign.

I have to say, I have hotter feelings for The Photographer but only because Mr Real Potential pulled back first. So, in conclusion, I'm taking it for what it is right now. In this moment, it is very nice to have these two men to flirt with on a regular basis. They have met me face-to-face and they still like me, and if I get 2nd dates out of them, I will be happy. I'll just keep my hormones in check with the treadmill.

In other news, I bought my very first skirt to wear for a man. Those of you who wear skirts for work, or just because you like them, can judge me all you want for being influenced by male preference, but until I heard a man say to me, "I'd love to see you in a skirt," I never saw a valid reason to try to buy one again (outside of the desperate must-wear-for-an-event situation).

Seven skirts failed. But one....the one I thought would be the worst actually....skirt liked me and I liked it. So I bought it, even though it is 2 sizes too big already. Yup. Paying $25 to have it tailored. That's when you know it is love. I like how I feel in it, and I like the idea of wearing it.

In addition, I bought 2 casual dresses. I know. Bizarre. One green, one pink. And tights. This spring definitely feels different than other springs.

And lastly, I had a procedure done on my hair. Yes, a procedure...may as well have been surgery. Come to find out there's some controversy out there about it too. Great. Some people have had hair loss. Great. Three hours of wearing some nasty smelling stuff (keratin complex, anyone?) on my head and THEN having it dried in and "sealed." I have to not wash my hair for 3 days (WHAT!?) and then I have been guaranteed to have 6 months of supple soft hair again. I don't know if I can wait 3 days. I really don't.

Why did I do this? Well, you see, I killed my hair somehow. In one year's time I went from soft silky hair to hair I couldn't even get my fingers through. All the natural keratin and cuticle are gone, and I'm more than a little afraid that I'm inheriting my mother's Sjogren's syndrome, but let's just err on the side of rationality that I've simply burned my hair too much right now.

So that's that in spring news. What have you got going on?

Unexpected Lustful Chemstry

2010-03-14T15:02:00.007-04:00

Can unexpected lustful chemistry grow into something more? I don't know, but I want to enjoy the ride.

What I knew about Thursday night's date was he was a photographer, lived about 25 minutes away, and really really really wanted to meet me.

He wanted to meet me so much that I thought two things 1. he's one of those online jokers who just say they want to meet because that's the thrill for them and never actually meet anyone or 2. he was desperate (and I mean desperate) for a plus-size model or a roll in the sheets.

So, tired as I was, off I went with the most laid back "he's not even going to show up" mindset. I just had that vibe that whatever was going to happen tonight, it wasn't going to be a big deal. I still dressed as nicely as I could, black boatneck shirt, pink scarf, black half-trench coat, jeans, boots.

Part of the success of having a good first meet with someone via online, is that you can start the friendly, playful joking exchange before you meet and it helps break the ice.

For example, we had been trading two jokes back and forth during the day via messages.

One joke was that if it wasn't raining, he'd show up on his motorcycle and I'd be wearing a skirt, and that would be that, it'd be a match made in heaven (because I like motorcycles and he likes skirts, get it?).

(Side note: The sad reality is that I don't own a skirt. Not a single one. I might have to rectify that, but I really really hate them.)

The other joke was that if it was raining (and it definitely was) that I would be the one without the umbrella and he would be the stranger on the street who "rescues me" from the rain because we all know that's just how it's done in the movies.

Well, that's exactly what happened. He was standing on the street corner as I came walking up from the parking lot, umbrella-less, scarf flying as I tried in whacky Bridget-Jones style to secure it around my head without simultaneously dropping my crackberry into a puddle. The Photographer had a huge umbrella, a brown leather bomber jacket on, and a really warm look on his face as we met. We hugged hello like we'd been friends for ages, one of those body-to-body hugs that make you feel warm and secure. I don't know why it happened, maybe it was the weather, but I'd like to think it had something to do with us.

Even one-armed as he held onto the umbrella in the wind, his embrace was strong and confident. I wanted to crawl right into his bomber jacket because I was freezing, yes me....the normally cold-loving one was freezing. A very good indication that I was getting sick.

The other indication? When I went to speak, I suddenly sounded like the lovechild of Kathleen Turner and Demi Moore. Wow, I was rocking the sexy voice that night.

We headed to our destination of my choice, a bar that I knew had some cozy booths. We walk in and......the booths are gone. I must have looked crushed, because he leaned in against my ear and said "Don't worry, we'll find a place to sit down..." but there weren't even any tables. Seems the establishment clears things out on busy nights to pack more people in. Live music was expected in 2 hours etc etc etc.

He rolled right with the punch while I frantically searched my mind for a nice place. His philosophy "There's a million other options if the first one doesn't work out." I came up with nothing and we wandered outside huddled together walking up the street. The wind blew his umbrella inside out, and I was clinging to his arm and burying my face against his coat. We ran into the first open door we could find...which turned out to be a LOUD crowded unromantic well-lit restaurant blasting 80s music. But...it had booths. OK, we'd make do.

He helped me with my coat and then put them on one side of the booth, looked at me and said, "Can I sit here?" meaning on my side of the booth. I am not sure if I was grinning on the outside but on the inside I felt like the Cheshire Cat. So he sat down, our legs touched immediately, and I turned a bit so I could make eye contact with him, which is a big thing with me. And I saw that he was nervous. That made me melt.

Conversation flowed in buckets like the rain outside.

Curious cat that I am, I asked him every question I could about photography. How, when, why, who, and where. I got a boatload of answers that left me more than a little awestruck. He's been everywhere and he knows...well...just about everyone in the music and celebrity industries. Yes, including some of my favorites. Yes, Bruce. He phrased it as "Of course, who doesn't know him? When you grow up on the Jersey shore...you know Bruce." He's not paparazzi. He's magazine photo shoot type. Yes, he's shot Bruce's motorcycles. He explained a little bit more about how he knew him. And he told me some things that I'm still digesting.

And he asked me a lot of questions too. The usual, but I was happy to see he was paying attention. Why Jersey? Do I like what I do for work? Do I have kids? Do I like to travel?

We discovered we both like movies, and when we find one we really like, we watch it repeatedly. He thinks Brad can't act; I didn't argue. He's not a Yankee fan; he doesn't really like sports at all. As we sat there talking in the other's ear over the din of 80s music, we realized we grew up at the same time. Def Leppard had us both tapping our feet against each other.

As the waitress came back a 3rd time to see if we finally decided to order something, he told me to get whatever I wanted; he doesn't drink alcohol. So I went with something non-alcoholic as well, and when the waitress left us, I said, "How long..." figuring he was recovering.

With the lifestyle he'd just described, I'd figured it made perfect sense. But he's never touched it, not even once as a teenager, not even in a ceremonial toast at a wedding. It just doesn't interest him. That's an idea I'm still trying to process, but I think I like it. We agreed that life could be fun enough without it, and that's when we learned that neither of us will watch horror movies - who needs to pay to be afraid?

After a really cozy hour or so in the booth under the harshest of lighting, we both felt restless and more than a little lustful for the unexpected chemistry we were feeling for one another. There was a DJ who would be starting soon, and we both couldn't imagine staying there if it got any louder than it already was. We agreed what was the point of a DJ if there was nowhere to dance?

So out we went, back to our cars. There was no discussion, just silent walking but really close to each other. His hand around my back pulling me against him, my hand also behind my back, curled inside his, holding on as if I might fall into a puddle and never be seen again. There was a very comfortable feeling knowing he wasn't buzzed and therefore thinking I looked beautiful through beer goggles. Refreshing. If there was going to be a kiss, it would be a kiss of sobriety. Plus-sized sobriety.

At my car, I turned to unlock the door and he came with me to hold the door open against the crazy wind. Then he leaned in and set his head on my shoulder and pressed his lips against my ear ever so softly. I closed my eyes and just let the moment linger. When I turned back around, his arms slipped around me and pulled me in close for a kiss.

He then said several hot lustful things to me that made my toes curl and knees buckle. I vaguely recall the start of the 2nd kiss, but I know my hands went into his hair.

We were interrupted by a car wanting to get into the empty spot we were hoarding with my open car door and our shameless embrace.

We slipped around to the back of the car to give the other driver room to pull in, and he said to me, "I want to kiss you even more..." and I croaked out like an off-pitched froggy, "Me too, but I really don't want you to get sick..." He laughed, agreed, gave me a quick kiss, and we hugged for many minutes. I probably already exchanged whatever germ I had, I thought, and contemplated just going for it.

But he whispered that I would just have to get better soon then so he could kiss me again. And we were both incredibly reluctant to leave each other.

I am suppressing any silly insecure thoughts about being with a man who looks at images with a critical eye, and I've decided I really would like to see The Photographer again.

Q & A

2010-03-13T10:03:00.012-05:00

Alright everyone, I fixed the link on the last post. It was just a link to my blog post entitled February Plan...it could have been found in the archives. But I linked it again.

But I've had enough inquiries to warrant a round of....

Questions and Answers

Why don't you just link to the supplements themselves?

1. I really went into great detail on what I'm taking. I think people should do their own research so that they've designed something that will work for them. After all, not everyone has the same issues that I have.

2. I don't want anyone saying "Well, she said this was going to work, and it didn't, so she doesn't know what the hell she's talking about." I have never claimed and never will claim to know what is better for anyone but myself.

3. If you really want to know where I'm purchasing my supplements from, I will tell you individually via email. Leave me a link to reach you. But I'm not going to publicly endorse any product or get myself into any kind of situation where I'm responsible for someone else's health. I'm focusing on taking care of myself.

Has anyone else tried it?

I know of one friend who has tried one piece of the supplements. I don't know how well it is working for her. Perhaps she'll comment on it.

Honestly, everyone's going to have their own track record with it. I can tell you that if you think you can take the supplements and not alter what or how much you eat and not alter the amount of energy you put out each day (yes exercise), the supplements are not miracle elements. They're not going to just melt off poundage.

What the supplements did for me was profound. It removed a fixation on food. Once that fixation disappeared, well, quite honestly I cried a bit because it was blatantly obvious how empty my life was without that frenemy to rely on as a crutch. But I have had some amazing social experiences so far this year, so that definitely helps fill the void.

Do I attribute the 10 lbs loss mostly to the supplements?

No. And yes. I attribute the loss to the massive downshift on calories coming into the body, which couldn't have happened without removing the constant addictive thought of food from my brain.

If I STILL ate Dunkin Donuts for breakfast, Taco Bell for lunch, and Dominos for dinner, and took the supplements, I would have probably gained 10 lbs.

The difference is I don't feel the urge to eat like that or really to eat at all. So when I do eat, I just make it as healthy as possible. I'm still off starch/carbs as indicated in 2010 with a Twist. And I still need to step up the exercise. A 10 lb loss in a first month is rarely repeated in a 2nd month, unless someone is on the ridiculous biggest loser show.

Hope that helps.

How are the other goals/aspects you had planned?

Well, the hypnotherapy I wanted so much got put on hold, as the therapist wasn't able to take on my situation as she'd indicated she had. I guess the downside of the alternative methods is that sometimes you deal with a little flakiness. There's another therapist I could go to, but I don't feel the same sense of trust, which I think it key. So I'm waiting it out.

I managed to start saving and contributing to a retirement fund. God knows how, because I have two thoughts: 1. I'm never going to be able to enjoy that money and 2. I could use that money right now.

Very hard for a Sagittarian to plan for the future. We don't trust institutions and we want to live right now. But I'm trying.

30 Day Update

2010-03-10T21:25:00.006-05:00

Thirty days ago, I started on these supplements.

Ten days later, I wrote my frenemy a goodbye letter.

Today, for the first time in 30 days, I got on the scale.

I've lost 10 lbs.

Happy camper here.

Over & Out.

The Long Distance Dance

2010-03-07T18:57:00.004-05:00

Mr Real Potential has been in contact with me every day since we met on Tuesday. Part of what he wrote on Saturday was about us:

"At the moment, I think I do have to keep this casual, because of my travel and living here in MN. Not that it won't change, but right now, let's just try and enjoy each day however that may be."

Breathe.

This is not a rejection.

This is a good thing. Right? I like the "Not that it won't change..." part. I like that he thinks the same way as I try to: living in the moment.

I'm so used to being fucked around and used, that my 1st reaction is to think, 'Sure, he wants to keep it casual so he can just use me when he's in town.' He's done NOTHING to make me think this way. That's the past talking, and I recognize it and it will stop.

It is important to keep eyes open, stay self-aware, be alert to the things he does and says. Let's remember from our past mistakes, saying is one thing, doing is another. Words are great, actions are better.

The real moment of truth will come the next time Mr Real Potential is in town. And actually, the days and weeks leading up to that next trip. How often am I in his thoughts, how often does he communicate with me, and what his phone calls or emails say. This is the dance of the long-distance possible relationship. It requires skill, and not everyone can do it.

And for me, I've got to lower my emotions a notch or two and not get hyper-attentive or hyper-sensitive on him. No drooling. Engage him in topical conversation. Dogs. Baseball. Perfect timing. The Red Sox season is about to start.

Let's play ball.

Fuhgeddaboudit

2010-03-04T07:17:00.006-05:00

Wednesday night I went on another first date. Even though Mr Real Potential was fantastic, I really don't know how he feels about me, and I am trying to learn from my past and not put all my eggs in one basket. More accurately for me, all my desires into one man's broad shoulders.

So my date last night told me online that he was 5'5 but my sister says she's 5'5 and there's no way I'm that much taller standing next to my sister so he had to be 5'3. I loomed over this guy. Lately people have been suggesting in the dating world that we loosen up our criteria and our restrictions on who we will date. Indeed. After all, people who live in glass houses....I'll be the first to admit if I want a little consideration given to me, then I have to do the same.

The height thing isn't anything to do with him....it is about how I feel when I am with him. Yes, my insecurity. A big person doesn't want to feel bigger. And I suppose those who discriminate against me, don't like how they feel around a woman with curves and a kangaroo pouch.

My date paid for everything, told me upfront he was going to show me a great evening. He thought the sun shined on me and told me so. Very complimentary about the eyes. Very confident man with a senior management job with a very established company. Good-looking, very funny, passionate Italian. Yankee fan but not a Red Sox hater. (I remain skeptical on that point.) Says he's searching for a woman with substance, doesn't want the barbie dolls anymore. Has a crazy ex-wife.

Wait....ssssshhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Did you just hear the warning bells? How about the red flags? Did you see them?

Hello....I have been there. Done that. And have a movie script in the works about it.

So, I may have been willing to try out the "I'm taller and bigger than you but let's see if it works," but I'm not willing to try out for a supporting role in another Italian soap opera. No way. I invest my four year's worth. An ex-wife - ok. But he used the words "crazy ex-wife" and then went on to explain all about her brand of crazy and years later she's still in his life.

Ummmm yeah no.

Fuhgeddaboudit.

Real Potential

2010-03-03T06:43:00.006-05:00

Best date since 2004. Not sure why exactly.

Oh yes wait. The guy was the appropriate amount of into me.

He was neither drooling nor disinterested.

He was funny, had me laughing quickly.

He was a gentleman.

He was adorable. In fact, his photos do him an injustice.

He took the lead immediately. I felt at ease and ....safe around him.

He knows how to kiss. And then some.

He called me kitten, which if someone had said to me prior to that moment, I would have probably frowned and said "What? I'm no kitten." But when he said it, it sounded adorable.

Yes, like puke-you're-too-romantic-for-Sweden adorable.

So it seems Mr Real Potential has entered my life. It would be nice if he decided to stick around. Cross your fingers for me, will you?

As I was heading to my vehicle, I glanced at my phone to see the time (4.5 hour first dates rock), and I see there's an email from Mr S. Honestly, I couldn't plan this kind of timing.

Once home I read it. He's extremely concerned - for himself. Thinks there "might be something wrong" with him because his feelings for me dropped so suddenly.

Yes Mr S, there's something wrong with you all right...you just let a great woman slip away.

Hope Springs Eternal

2010-03-01T05:43:00.010-05:00

At least, for the moment it does.

I am...living proof....

A 40-year old CAN still have fun sledding AND live to walk and talk about it the next day.

Isn't my sledding tube cute? And she'll double as a raft down the Delaware. I WILL be going tubing down the Delaware this summer, about time I accomplish a 4-year old wish.

Sledding with my token Jersey male friend Harry Pottypants was a barrel of laughter as well as an incredible workout. The rush of the ride down paired with the rush of climbing that steep hill. All for free! (Minus the price of the sled.) Thank you winter. I can't help but think how much healthier we were as kids because we played outside all the time! We did not realize how great we had it.

So, I've really had it with FaceBook. I don't think I'll be on there updating too much of anything anymore. Maybe an odd photo here and there to keep the growing group of lurkers happy. People who never spoke to me in HS, friending me and then not even bothering to say hello. What is up with that shit? Is that just a cold Connecticut thing or what? I've also completed what I'm calling the Facebook FML* Trinity: the first boyfriend, the college boyfriend, and the ex-husband have all friended me. I keep thinking they should schedule a Donna Conference. DonnaCom in Vegas. I wonder what the 3 of those men would have to say. It would make for an interesting book, or a comic strip at least I think.

Yes, I know, I'm a hard one to forget, and I might be a good one to remember. I just wish there could be a composite of those men available in my life right now.

Which brings me to say, on the eve of the silly, I-can't-help-but watch, fabricated romance of the Bachelor finale, that I have a date this Tuesday night. Not gonna lie, I'm so gun shy after what happened with my cataylst Mr S that part of me is bursting to tell you details about my date-to-be and part of me is thinking that to even mention him is tempting fate's fickle ways.

I can say that this man possesses every quality I could list in a Real Potential partner.

He's from Massachusetts but he's lived in Jersey in recent years.
He loves the Red Sox.
His voice is dreamy.
He likes me....just the way I am...physically. (Hello? Bonus.)
He loves dogs (owns one, by choice, not by default of previous relationship).
He doesn't want to have children.
He's oozing with intelligence...ex-military intelligence to be precise (Cue the MI theme).

So when the world gets to be too much, we could take our pack of dogs and invade some small barely inhabited island country or Bermuda perhaps, set up satellite, and watch the Red Sox for the rest of our lives. There we go, all mapped out.

Oops, did I say I wasn't going to tempt fate by talking about him? Oh well, as Kathy Griffin would say, fate can suck it.

*FML=Fuck My Life. Unhipsters, it's OK, I've got you covered.

Comp Me Again!

2010-02-23T06:30:00.006-05:00

Thanks for the free room, Foxwoods...the wonder of it all....

Oh my God... for realz?

For realz...California, here I come!

Exhausted and alone, but so so so ridiculously happy!

The view from bed...where I could have stayed all day...next time!

Dear Food

2010-02-20T20:31:00.003-05:00

Dear Food,

My old friend. My old frenemy. How are you? I ask, because I have no idea. I ask, even though I really couldn't care less.

I don't care how you taste anymore. Granted, I'd rather not put something shitty tasting in my mouth, after all, my taste buds aren't dead for god's sake.

But really, I smell you and I don't really have an oh-my-god-I-can't-wait-to-have-that-between-my-lips reaction anymore. Gone are the days of thinking about what I can eat, when I can eat, and how much I can eat.

Two bites of this warm pecan pie, and I was done. Wha!? Yeah. The thought of taking another bite really displeased me. The thought of bringing it home? Eh. No desire.

I don't recognize this type of thinking at all. Not for 40 years. But strange as it might seem to not give any thought to food, I honestly hope this type of thinking sticks around. I feel free from a trap I'd been setting for myself year after year after year after year. I owe it all to the supplement that has turned off my subconscious "need" to comfort myself with you....

So food, I'll be seeing you around. I just don't have the burning desire to consume you anymore as if I were starving to death.

Hopefully, I can transfer that desire to other areas of my life instead.

Best wishes.

Breathe, Wax, Refocus

2010-02-16T07:42:00.006-05:00

I haven't had a hard lesson to learn in a long time so I guess one was due.

My Valentine was received but it didn't make anything better. Mr S still isn't sure he can get back to the way he felt before I melted down emotionally on the phone with him. Oh well. I told him that second chances were good things, but I've also told him I understand if he decides not to try. It will be whatever it is meant to be. He said that my messages were not helping, they were making things harder. So much for reminding him of whatever it was he liked about me to begin with.

Breathe in, breathe out. Wax on, wax off. Refocus on me. Selfish me.

I don't know why men spook so easily. Then again, I know a sobbing woman is probably similar to a monster for them.

There will always be bumps in any path taken; if Mr S' instinct on anything emotional is to take 10 steps back and analyze it like an engine and my instinct is to peel away the layers and look at it under a magnifying glass, then Houston, we have a problem with compatibility. I could likely adapt, I usually do.

But I will never ever ever put myself into another relationship where I have to "walk on eggshells" around my partner. I'm a Sagittarian. Hello, look in the dictionary and it is a synonym to the word emotional. Yes, I work on handling my emotions all the time, but I'm still going to be MORE emotional than other people.

*sigh* How many labels should I put on my dating profiles? Dog owner, weight-challenged, carb addict, emotional 40 year old female. If I did that....pffft, nevermind.

Breathe in, breathe out. Wax on, wax off. Refocus on me. Selfish me.

Perhaps his idea of a "rare lady" was one who has her shit together. I've accomplished a lot. But I'm still working on my shit. I'm still very much a work in progress, and I may remain a work in progress the rest of my life. As long as I'm working at it, that's what matters most to me.

Perhaps the connection, so new and untested, wasn't meant to be as strong as I imagined it.

Perhaps his only cosmic purpose in my life was to show me I was hiding.

So, the lessons I'm taking from this are definitely customized to my circumstances.

1. Don't communicate with a potential new partner when I'm exhausted.
2. Keep phone conversations from 20 minutes to an hour max.
3. Don't let things get too personal too early. There's no need to open the flood gates.

Although the verdict isn't completely in and dismissed, it isn't looking good. I am really hurting over the idea that I won't get to meet this man. Like I said he was one in a million in terms of qualities I seek. But I have to remember, I'm one in a million too.

And if he just doesn't feel that way, then he just doesn't feel that way. Better that than to be lied to just to have sex or something equally ridiculous that I've already experienced.

Breathe in, breathe out. Wax on, wax off. Refocus on me. Selfish me.

A Love Wreck

2010-02-14T17:47:00.003-05:00

“The minute I heard my first love story
I started looking for you,
not knowing how blind that was.
Lovers don't finally meet somewhere.
They're in each other all along.”
~ Rumi

I laid it out there. I pushed the envelope. I sent Mr S a homemade Valentine video and yesterday's entry.

Perhaps I should have waited longer, but I couldn't. After seeing that corny sweet manufactured Hollywood movie Valentine's Day, I just couldn't let today go by without trying.

Oh, I am a wreck strewn across the rocky idea of love.

Chemical Catalyst

2010-02-13T12:40:00.006-05:00

It has been an interesting 7 days in the world of men and me. There's been a mail-storm of interest lately on all the sites I've got my profile up on. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. I'm amused though, because I can't figure out the trend. Go for months with nothing, then suddenly men from everywhere express interest and I get to sort out who I like/don't like. Really, every time there's this much interest, I feel like I'm on a reality tv show and they're just playing a joke on me. The reality is there might be 2% in the pool that would actually be compatible but I'll take fishing in the ocean over fishing in a puddle any day.

Last Friday night, I met an OKCer. I wasn't even going to spend a word on him, but in hindsight, I think it frames up nicely in juxtaposition to the other experience I will also relay.

Mr Common was raised in Montana, spent quite a bit of time in the army, in Germany, and then Seattle. Currently in computers, in Jersey and unemployed. He assured me he had funds for 6 months, and he had a recruiter with a few great leads. Sure, whatever, I know some women won't date someone out of work, but really...I was not looking to marry him and didn't really care. If he'd never had a job, perhaps that would be a concern.

However, I knew when I first saw him, I would not be interested in him. He didn't smell right to my wolf nose. It wasn't as if he hadn't showered. He just had an unpleasant chemistry to him. Blue eyes which I love but one was lazy, off to the side severely. And lest you think I'm so superficial, he was short and stocky and THAT didn't bother me a bit. But eye contact....damn that is just key for me.

We sat at Panera and ate and talked. I got a nonstop earful - about an hour's worth - of army stories. And he had not one question for me. And not just army stories, but wild drunken army stories. Involving tricks he played on others. This man was reliving the past across the table from me and I couldn't help feeling as though he was really sad about his life now. I know, military men have to haze each other, and their bonds are tighter than tight. I love Band of Brothers and other military movies. But sadly, sitting there, a picture was starting to form of this man that I just didn't care for. He didn't seem....nice. I know that sounds lame. But I tried to keep an open mind.

We talked a little about how challenging it was to be new to Jersey, and what it was like to move out here for him. He proceeded to tell me two more stories from the past year that sealed the image forming. Both involved him losing his temper, once with a coworker in the office and once with a customer service rep at car rental kiosk in an airport. His description of his anger and his violent thoughts and behavior really made me uncomfortable. I saw a picture of a man who could not control his emotions or his actions. To have the police called on you because you made such a scene in an airport...maybe someone else can handle being around that, but it just isn't me. And why would you tell that to someone you're meeting for the first time and hoping to date?

So, I was ready to go, of course I didn't openly criticize his behavior when he was done or anything because I wanted to survive the night. LOL So, he walked me to my car, gave me a hug I really didn't want nor reciprocate, and he said, "Well, let's see how the chemistry is between us when you're not so tired."

Excuse me? How about we don't. And...I'm tired? I never said I was tired. I'd done my absolute best to be bright and bubbly. I should have said, "I wouldn't be so tired if you weren't so boring." Anyway, I wrote him a long email telling him exactly why I wouldn't be seeing him again. Done and next.

(Yes....next....there was a next that is worthy of a post all its own but I'm just going to babble on here.)

Every day we learn. Never stop learning.

Enter stage right...a man that I can really only best describe as... a catalyst.

Main Entry: cat·a·lyst
Pronunciation: \'ka-t?-l?st\
Function: noun
Date: 1902

1: a substance that enables a chemical reaction to proceed at a usually faster rate or under different conditions (as at a lower temperature) than otherwise possible
2: an agent that provokes or speeds significant change or action

Mr Catalyst. Mr Game Changer. Why do you ask?

I haven't found myself more interested in a man from the FIRST word exchanged in a very long time. If I had to think who was the last to make me feel this way, it was L, it was 2004, and I was open-hearted and open-minded. And yes, being THAT affected again, is startling. Like, wake me from a slumber I didn't know I was sleeping kind of startling. Holy shit, I still have THOSE types of feelings? I'm not dead there, in the deepest core of me? Really? Yes, really.

Mr S. is worthy of every complimentary word that begins with an S that I can think of. Sweet. Sexy. Super. Sincere. Sinful. He's a thinker. He's in touch with his emotions. He's a history enthusiast. He's got comedic timing. He's taller than me. He has blue eyes. He has seen the world. He wants to see more of the world. He doesn't want kids. He loves to snuggle beneath really cozy blankets. He has a voice that gives me those girly girly shivers. He's difficult to deal with, likely set in his ways, and confidently brimming with the experience to back it up. He asks detailed questions and wants to know about me. He goes off on lovely tangents in conversation that make me smile. He's 43 but mentions Winne the Pooh, loves the story of how teddy bears came into existence, and is likely a big teddy bear himself (though he would not want this getting out I'm sure - sorry, you'll all swear to secrecy right?).

We had about half a dozen amazing emails back and forth before our first phone call...which lasted 3 hours and 50 minutes....and I hate talking on the phone longer than 20 minutes! I felt like a teenager...with a super hard crush.

But here's why he's the catalyst, the game changer. He makes me want to be the best I can possibly be. He makes me bring my A game. He has a way of making me pull away the veils I hide behind and face the music. Yes, this early on. He has that much positive influence on me.

And now for the hard part. I messed up. He found this blog.

(Editor's Note: He found it before he ever contacted the crazy girl. And he still wrote.)

I honestly don't know if he'll read this post or if he's read one post or several posts or all 497 posts. I didn't give him a chance to tell me. Because it caught me so off guard that I freaked. And I melted down so completely that I may have lost the chance with him. The verdict is out, the jury is sequestered, and I'm wondering what will happen next.

But what I want to say, is that even if I do...lose any chance of knowing him further, I absolutely believe he "came into my life" as a great big wake-up call. The message? Stop hiding. Even when I didn't really think I was, I was.

Did I really think this blog was private? It is one of the first 5 things that come up in a google search about me, I've been writing and going around in circles here for years.

I have no reason to be hiding anyway. I'm someone facing my fears, my challenges, every day. I'm fighting for the best life I can have, even if that means I'm alone for the rest of that life. It may not be heroic or inspiring, it may be just one simple woman with one simple life, but I'm giving it all I've got.

If someone can't stand what's said here, then they don't want to know the real me. Having said that, there's so much more to me than just what's on these pages. I hope that anyone who reads any blog realizes that about the person they're reading. We can't show you everything or explain everything here. We'd be writing nonstop and we wouldn't be living.

"Get busy living or get busy dying." Either way, writing about it helps, and certainly gives a window. I just think if you want to know more, please try to come through the front door.

So I'm thanking Mr S for being my catalyst for change.

In a very short time, you found me, you wrote to me, you exposed me to myself, you called me a "very rare lady," and I'm grateful for the reminder. I used to know that. I do know that, deep down inside. I just need someone like you in my life to reflect it back to me once in a while.

If we don't risk rejection, we can't risk intimacy.

My Supplements

2010-02-10T00:14:00.010-05:00

DISCLIAMER: Please note I'm not endorsing any product or supplement or weight loss techniques for anyone else. I am only sharing how things are going for me. If you decide to take these products you may have a completely different experience.

I've been taking the supplements since Friday morning. Although the instructions said it might take up to 2 weeks for some people to feel any effect, I felt a difference within the 1st dose. And I'm also taking LESS than they say to take, because I wanted to start out slowly in case there is a plateau and I have to increase it.

I've been talking over how different I feel, and trying to put it into a comprehensible experience, but I am finding it difficult to find accurate wording. I hope what ends up on the page makes some sort of sense.

Before taking the supplement, I felt almost always on edge of losing control over what I ate. It was a very conscious situation of preoccupation. Monitoring how I felt, making sure I wasn't eating my emotions, keeping lists and desperately trying NOT to think about food but held hostage by it nonetheless.

Enter the supplements.

Step away from the edge. Breathe.

New thoughts...

Food? What's that?

Seriously....who cares about food? I'll go so far as to say the feeling is somewhat extreme, as in I almost miss that excitement I used to feel about food. But now I really couldn't be bothered. I couldn't care less. I'm eating just as much as before, but the fixation is gone. And there's no such thing as a craving so far. I realize it has only been 5 days. We'll see.

Day 2 of the supplements I sat in a Chili's restaurant, completely untempted by the endless free tortillas and salsa. I chose a salad with grilled chicken, even though I could smell the fries from everyone around me. And eating the salad felt 100% satisfying. I did not covet food I could not have. I didn't even think about it.

I don't know WHY it works.

I don't know if it will continue to work.

I'm just taking it one day at a time.

And the cleanse supplement? Happy to say there's no "I'm going to poo my pants right now" feeling. It is more of a need to pee. I am drinking a full 8 plus glasses of water.

With the lifting of this constant worry I had over food, my mind feels so much lighter, and I find myself enjoying conversations with coworkers and feeling optimistic that maybe, just maybe, I can reclaim the energy to get my healthy life back on track.

And....I've continued to follow thru on my goals for myself.

Introducing Tready, the Life Changer...

My new friend is used, but I don't care. I love him. He's great so far, getting my heart rate up while I watch TV.

Only drawback is he scares the hell out of the dogs.

Sephora Finds

2010-02-02T23:49:00.007-05:00

My two favorite new finds. No, not a paid endorsement, just some genuine love.

The images link you to the product at Sephora.

Icelandic Relief Eye Pen

(Those Icelanders know what they're talking about.)
A Sephora cult-favorite eye cream in a convenient, portable pen

Skyn Iceland Icelandic Relief Eye Pen provides an on-the-go antidote for the damaging effects of chronic stress. This best-selling essential helps address all three major eye care concerns: puffiness, wrinkles, and dark circles. Skin is revived by a blend of soothing nutrients while optical diffusers brighten the entire eye area.

What it is formulated WITHOUT:
- Parabens
- Sulfates
- Synthetic Fragrances
- Synthetic Dyes
- Petro-Chemicals
- Phthalates
- Triclosan

Eyeshadow Primer Potion - Sin

(A little goes a long way. A lot makes you look like a disco queen.)
A best-selling eyeshadow primer potion in a shimmering champagne color.

Urban Decay Eyeshadow Primer Potion - Sin combines incredible staying power with a shimmering champagne hue that complements almost any eyeshadow. This two-in-one beauty miracle can be worn alone to give eyes just a hint of tint for when you're in a hurry or in need of that "no makeup" look.

It also makes a great highlighter: apply from lash line to crease and then apply your shadow on the lid only.

Sawyer Time

2010-02-02T19:23:00.001-05:00

That is all.

February Plan

2010-01-31T15:40:00.006-05:00

Review of First 30 Days

Take no work home from office. 85% success
Dinner & Communications 6-8 PM (no later than 8 PM) 5% success
Meditation (between the hours of) 8-10 PM 10% success

Nordictrack (between the hours of) 8-10 PM while watching TV or reading FAIL
Bed 11 PM Sun-Thurs 20% success

Contact the hypnotherapists. success
Search for used treadmill. success
Look for ways to cut monthly budget. FAIL
Stick to the Off/On lists below; assess after 30 days: February 2. FAIL

Absolute Failure on the On/Off Lists about 20 days into it. Just stopped caring about what I was eating and trying to lose weight. Oddly, about the same time I finally had sex again. In theory, nice idea to feel so good that you don't care about what you eat. In reality, doesn't work for me as I quickly gained massive poundage. I can't deny the stress at work of interviewing 6 candidates for 2 jobs was likely a major factor as well.

And in the past few days in particular, I've gone out of my way to eat whatever I want. Five Guys Burgers & Fries? Yes. Taco Bell? Yes. Pizza? Yes. Coldstone? Yes.

Why did I do that? Well, addicts will rationalize their behavior on anything. But this was a very conscious effort. I felt the approach was similar to that of an addict entering rehab, when they have a drink or a hit of narcotics on the way to their detox. Like one last binge? Or a prisoner's last meal request before they face the death penalty.

I did it as a reminder, that deciding what you eat MUST be a conscious effort. Interestingly, after eating what I thought I wanted, it was obvious it wasn't what I wanted. And also, if I can drive 20 minutes and two towns over for some sugar, cream, milk and ice blended into the best shake in the world, then I can damn well WANT to lose weight enough to put in the EFFORT.

So, after several weeks of research about what to do and where to go next in my "once and for all" weight loss efforts, I have designed a method that seems right for me and I'm going to describe it below. I'm excited about it which is key.

But first, I thought it might be worth noting what products or programs I considered that I am not going to be trying for one reason or another. If you message me with a response address and want to know why, I'll tell you.

I don't want to unduly influence someone by telling you why those avenues are not right for me, especially if one or more of them might be right for you. But I would urge everyone to conduct research. There's really no excuse not to arm yourself with knowledge these days. Independent reviews are all out here on the internet for us all to determine what is best for our individual needs.

Ideally, my choice would be either Medifast or Optifast, because they're medically supervised clinics.

But I can't. The minimum cost would be about $1,200 for 12 weeks. (Hmm, no wonder so many people are overweight?) So, instead I researched as much of the supplement products of those medically approved programs as I could and I've purchased the products or equivalents. I'm incorporating what I can into my own "TrueHeartFast" program.

In addition to the no refined carbs, eating natural (shopping just on the outside of the grocery aisles), and eating as clean as I can, I also will be incorporating the following items and efforts which are a direct reference from those above medical plans.

Vitamin D-3
Calcium
Magnesium
Liquid Hoodia 500MG
Omega 3s 1000 MG
Daily Multivitamin
Whey Protein (20 grams of protein and only 3 carbs)
Liponic Colon Cleanse* (ingredient details at the end of this post for those curious)

I can already imagine the questions and comments, so please don't hesitate. If you comment, I know you care and have something to say.

"Hoodia? That stuff doesn't work."
Well, you're right I think the low-grade crap that's out there doesn't work, but I think the high-grade pure plant I found does and those medical plans above include it. I used a lot of independent reviews to make my decision.

"Do you think you're that nutritionally out of whack to need those extras?"
Yes. Absolutely. We're not just talking about a body that has to lose 10 or 15 lbs and has a slice of cake when it shouldn't. We're talking about a body that prefers carbohydrates 24/7. It is broken and misfiring on all levels. I know myself. No one else does. And if I am taking something I don't need, my body will just excrete it.

In addition to the supplements just listed above, I'll be starting hypnotherapy which I believe will help me with the sub-conscious sabotage I have done to myself since childhood.

And the above admissions right there should cause any potential dates to give up interest in me if they've read this. Yes, one of the first rules out there about dating is to stay away from addicts. And addicts shouldn't date (I didn't say shouldn't have sex but the programs do). Oh well. I have to heal myself first anyway.

In addition, I'll be picking up a used treadmill (with the help of a dolly, a rental truck, and Harry Pottypants' help) next Saturday, and it will replace the ski machine in the living in front of the TV.

And last but not least...I've cleaned house of what I've identified as negative triggers.

For the past 6 months, there's been a bikini-clad woman showing up in my mailbox. Compliments of my dear friend Sweden who meant well. But this is just a great example of...how sick am I? The sad truth? I wasn't able to even crack open a page of one of the magazines, despite headlines like "I've lost 116 lbs and you can too." I can't get passed the covers. Covers of women who may not look like any of us thanks to airbrushing we all realize, but who certainly look a hell of a lot more like most of you than they ever will of me. Ever. EVER. Even 100 lbs less, I'll never look like that. And I don't want to be reminded. So, no more self-sabotage. I gave the magazines away.

I also put all the clothes that don't fit into the left side of the closet. They'll be there when I lose, but not a moment before.

I've put the scale and the mirror away for now. They'll be there when I *FEEL* better, rather than using them to decide how I feel.

Positive, positive, positive.

Lastly, I'm placing an unusual but necessary restriction on eating: no eating out for 30 days. I will control all my eating by what I bring into this house or bring to work. I have proven I'm good with that.

And if on some bizarre chance a guy wants to meet me in this crazy month of commercialized romance, it'll have to be a non-eating meeting. I wouldn't rule out drinks but again, that's a slippery slope and alcohol is deadly to a weightloss plan.

P.S. The supplements will arrive in a few days. I'll be sure to document my experience with them.

_____________

*Colon Cleanse Tablet Supplement Details
Consisting of synergistic ingredients to enable proper lymph drainage, strong liver function and assimilation of nutrients into the bloodstream. These lipotropic ingredients (agents) emulsify as well as transport fat to be converted into energy. They also help to deactivate and expel harmful toxic substances from the body. This ensures that fat is shed from the body in a safe and natural manner.

Within this group there are four major lipotropic agents. The first ingredient/agent Inositol Hexaphosphate, (not your ordinary called Inositol Hexaphosphate, is a lipotropic agent that metabolizes fats and cholesterol. It also aids in transporting fat in the circulatory system along with the expulsion of excess fat within the blood. Inositol Hexaphosphate is also known to combat cancer and lower cholesterol levels.

The second major lipotropic ingredient, DL-Methionine, is a lipotropic amino acid which not only reduces fat and cholesterol levels, but also increases dopamine, norepinephrine, and serotonin. It also acts as an antidepressant. Moreover, dl-methionine has been found to be as effective, or better than most prescription antidepressant medications.

The third major lipotropic ingredient, Alpha Lipoic Acid, promotes fat loss by preferentially shunting glucose to muscle cells away from fat cells. ALA is also a coenzyme in the metabolic pathway that generates energy in the body. It also removes heavy toxic metals and protects the liver against many toxins.

The fourth major lipotropic ingredient, Chromium picolinate, is a rare nutrient of which 98% of the American population do not get enough in their diet. A diet high in sugar can decrease the body's store of chromium. Many physicians use chromium picolinate to treat Type II diabetes or insulin resistance. In addition, this unique lipotropic slenderizing pill makes you much less susceptible to diseases such as:

* cancer
* fatty liver
* sluggish lymph drainage
* diabetes and insulin fluctuations

The overall cleansing and strengthening of the hepatic and lymphatic systems help your liver to function at optimal levels, making it easy to focus energy on losing weight rather than fighting to prevent diseases. Free from the chemical trappings of other leading brands of lipotropics, our all-natural formulation blows the competition out of the water in terms of potency, efficiency, and fat-expulsion capability. Our made-from-scratch formula contains:

* No Yeast
* No Starch
* No Chemical Additives
* No Artificial Dyes
* No Salt
* No Sugar

My New Snack

2010-01-24T13:01:00.005-05:00

My family and childhood friends are definitely going to laugh out loud, but I've discover how much I like soybeans.

I'm sorry, the chic term is edamame.

Per 100 grams....

Calories 125.0
Protein 12.1
Carbohydrates 13.1
Fat 3.6
Ash 1.7
Calcium 9.3
Phosphorus 180.0
Iron 2.7
Sodium 5.0
Vitamin A 130.0
Vitamin U1 0.31
Vitamin C 40.0

Had them at dinner with Geeky Lay. Wow they were fabulously tasty.

Too many carbs really...but....if I have to snack on something, better it be this than a loaf of bread.

Taken from Wiki:
"Edamame also contains protein, which further helps stabilize blood sugar, and omega-3 fatty acids. In some circumstances, this can also result in a laxative effect. This is a popular traditional remedy in regions of Asia, where it is known as Bhatamas.

Edamame beans contain higher levels of abscisic acid (a plant hormone), sucrose, protein than other types of soybean. They also contain a high source of dietary fiber, iron and calcium."

Well, I hope I don't eat too many and have that laxative effect.

Fickle Sagittarian

2010-01-23T20:39:00.011-05:00

"Don't you know before you choose your wish
You'd better think first
'Cause with every wish there comes a curse"
-With Every Wish, Springsteen

OK it has only been two nights (out of two weeks) with my FwB Geeky Lay. But I'm having some issues, and I'm trying to sort them out of my head onto the open space here.

He doesn't mind the animals. He pets them and offers them Reiki.
He doesn't mind my weight. He pays great attention to me between the sheets and in public.
He doesn't mind that my back causes me to lie flat sometimes. He offers me Reiki.
He's 29 in bed.
He opens doors.
He insists on paying.
He knows how to kiss.
He's 29 in bed. (Yes, I think it counts twice.)

_______________

He only wants to get together on Fridays. (He *ahem* games on Saturday and Sundays. He's rehearsing a theater play the rest of the week and taking four courses during the day.)
He talks about the things he has done or the things he can do with an air of superiority that often makes me want to cringe and/or roll my eyes but I've stopped myself.
He's 50 when he's dining out.
He's 75 when he's driving.
He rents a studio apartment from his parents.
He lives 49 miles away.

Well, clearly the pros outweigh the cons. And realistically, some of the cons are also pros, and some of the cons aren't really cons at all. I'm not looking to marry the guy.

So what in the bloody hell is wrong with me? Why am I bored when the sex isn't happening?

Has it been so long since someone has been nice to me that I don't know how to handle it?

Has it been so long since I've had a fairly functional interaction with a man (Honestly? L was never fairly functional, so we're talking way way 6-7 years back when I lived with Scottish DJ.) that I no longer want a fairly functional interaction with a man?

Earlier today I actually thought to myself, "Right well, that's that. I'm done. Next."

And I had to pull back and re-think, "Are you nuts, out of your damn tree, you fickle, flighty Sagittarian?! Do you not remember ANY of the last 13 dry painful months you spent keening for a partner?!"

Can someone please slap me? Thank you.

Early Bird Special

2010-01-22T14:01:00.006-05:00

I keep wanting to play catch up, but I never seem to have enough time. Maybe this weekend. You know you're busy when you don't even have time to write for yourself.

But I have a semi-social life now, so I can't complain too much.

Tonight my Geeky Lay (formerly East Strasburg - had to change it, spelling is wrong) wants to have Japanese food at 5 pm. See, I told you he's like a 29-year old senior citizen. Can you say Early Bird Special? Then he wants to play more pool, because beating me 6 games wasn't enough? I don't really mind, because all I'm thinking about is the sex. Fine by me, as long as we're in bed by 9, maybe I'll have some energy to do something. Friends with benefits, people, and I'm focusing on the benefits.

Speaking of benefits...have you donated to Haiti Relief?

The Help for Haiti Now concert is tonight. I love to see how organized everyone can be around this frightening natural disaster. I will tape it and love to see me some Bruce, some Brad, some others. There but for the grace of god go us...no one chooses to live on a fault line in a poor country. Yet, I can't help but wonder why couldn't this type of fund raising exist for New Orleans, or hell why couldn't it exist when Haiti was "just" another extremely poor country? I'm amazed at the money figures raised and hoping it reaches the people who so desperately need it.

I support the local shelters here and I support the wolf sanctuary and I support the continual rebuilding of the 9th ward in New Orleans. So, Haiti, hopefully you really do have those millions of dollars pouring in to help you. I gave what money I could, not to ease any guilt over living in the northeast corridor of the United States, but because I knew no other way to help. If I were a doctor, I would go. If I were an animal rescuer, I would go with my special sniffing dog. If I were unemployed and someone could get me there for free, I would go to do something helpful with my time. But I am none of these things, so I gave my spare funds and I hope it helps.

Just another hard-working, overweight, privileged soul living with a job, a cat, two dogs, and a geeky lay in Jersey in the year 2010. Believe me, I'm not knocking it.

8-Ball, Corner Pocket

2010-01-19T00:56:00.012-05:00

I had a whirlwind weekend. The Light of Day benefit show turned into a Springsteen fest. I couldn't believe it even as I stood about 20 feet away from him. Definitely a shot of adrenaline for me. Music is my lifeblood, and Bruce is like a speedball.

I really didn't even have much chance to process what happened with East Strasburg until Sunday. But I've definitely beguiled him with my Sagittarian sexiness. He's already asked to spend this coming Friday night together. I have said yes. How nice it feels to have a choice.

There are some things about him that bore me I'm afraid, but I'm not looking to spend forever with him. He's a geek and an elitist. He's an intellectual of the highest degree. He's able to simultaneously play classical guitar, sing rock and roll, calculate the angles on a billiard table, and lecture on geology. He has 3 degrees and he's going for a 4th degree. He's a gamer and collector of rare guitars. He has his own pool cue and quite likely his own tux. He's a jack of all trades. I could go on and on.

Why isn't he in a relationship or looking for one? Good question. He doesn't want to devote the time to one. He's too busy starring in local theater and running RPGs for others. If he wasn't also in tune with his emotions, it'd be a lost cause for me. But he is a passionate soul, and that makes it a solid experience for me. Whatever he does, he does to the point of perfection. So, naturally, I was quite pleased with my sleepover partner's perfectionism in some particular areas.

I am having trouble with exercise, as in it has literally halted. For the past week, I have thrown myself into my job, because I need to fill two open positions on my team. I have never been so emotional invested. If I hire the right people, not only does it ease my own workload, but I look like I know what I'm doing in the eyes of my superiors.

But oh god is it ever exhausting. The right questions, looking for clues that they're lying (Come on who doesn't embellish aka SELL themselves in an interview?), and then they have to pass a test I made that I probably couldn't pass if it had been given to me.

I need to get on track and get thin. I have a very important wedding to attend in California in October!

(And...Craig Ferguson, you better be taping while I'm out there because I'm making a trip to LA too!)

Rain On Me

2010-01-16T14:45:00.008-05:00

The colors are sharper.
My smile is wider.
The air is cleaner
and the sun is brighter.
My eyes are shining
and my laughter is lighter.

Image above created and owned by h.koppdelaney

No, I'm not in love in with East Strasburg, and he's even a little too intellectual for me, but between the sheets, the boy has all the right moves for my grooves at the moment. And at the moment, that is more than fine with me.

Being released from my way too long (partly self-imposed, partly bad luck) sexual prison feels A.M.A.Z.I.N.G.

I feel like singing. That sort of overwhelming sense of calling out at the top of your lungs, semi-operatic, Sound of Music, semi-country whoop-howlin.

"...Hard times come, Hard times go..."

The timing is appropriate, because I'm going to the Light of Day benefit show tonight in Asbury Park where there will be more music than I could imagine in my head. The sound will engulf me and I will feel beautifully insulated. Almost like the perfect day-after cuddle session.

The 13-month drought has finally ended.

Let it rain, rain on me.

Progress Update

2010-01-13T23:11:00.006-05:00

How Is the 30-Day To-Do List Coming Along?

Contact the hypnotherapists.

Have contracted with a hypnotherapist via my massage therapist. She's someone I feel comfortable with, and she took a lengthy history of life and she is customizing a program for me. The bad news is that it won't be ready until February. The good news is I finally made some progress here.

Search for used treadmill.

The good news: THERE ARE SO MANY!
The bad news: Most models will not fit into my SUV and cannot be lifted by one person.

Look for ways to cut monthly budget.

Hmmm. Yeah. Still looking.

Stick to the Off/On lists below; assess after 30 days: February 2.

I've lost 8 of the 22 lbs I've gained since October.
I have stuck to my lists - except I had 3 dates. No alcohol, but carbs.

Other News

I am not enjoying the nordictrack. It has a jerking motion, not a fluid motion. I will try to grease the flywheel to see if that helps.

I have a 2nd date on Friday night with East Strasburg. Billiards and then who knows. Perhaps a sleepover pajama party. Yes, I'm 12.

Sunday's 3rd date, the filmmaker, has emailed me asking when I'm free to get together. I have to do the right thing; I have to treat him the way I would want to be treated. Not strung along.

Oh, to the anonymous commenters I'm accumulating lately on older posts...I really don't care if you don't want to reveal who you are, whether you know me in real life or not, but please remember, I'm writing for myself, not for an audience or to gain readership or popularity.

Anyone's Guess

2010-01-10T23:56:00.006-05:00

I don't really understand the laws of attraction. How long have I been pining away to be kissed? Months and months. And I finally was....and....well, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Foremost lesson learned: NEVER triple-book 1st meets in one weekend. I'm exhausted. I feel like I have politician cheeks from smiling so much. I was certain one would have canceled, but I won't hedge that bet again.

Saturday Lunch Date: This guy needs a name because I'm 98% sure I'll be seeing him again. He's a walking book of knowledge on everything from which herbal remedies work for which ailments to the first song ever recorded by Buddy Guy to public speaking on geology to reiki to gemstone healing to canasta with his grandmother and organizing community games for young adults.

He's 29 year old geek going on 50 and admitted that if he could make a living out of obtaining college degrees then that is what he will do. As for gentlemanly, he opened doors, he was complimentary and he made good eye contact despite his admission that I made him somewhat nervous with my beautiful eyes. He didn't pay because I ordered first and had my money out before he even realized it. I didn't care. This really isn't going to be that type of relationship and as a full-time student, he's strapped for funds. As long as he doesn't ever expect me to pay for him as well, we'll be fine.

I would say I'm fairly attracted to him. He has lovely blue eyes and red hair with a full beard and mustache that without he would probably look like he's 12. He's 5'9 which is fine, my cutoff is my own height 5'7. We had good easy conversation. When we parted I said I was off to buy new undergarments and he said "Oohh, nice, I like a woman in lingerie." I told him that was duly noted. He didn't try to kiss me, but within hours of leaving one another he'd messaged me asking if we could get together again soon, as in next week or weekend. I said sounds like fun. I think we'll call him East Strasburg.

Saturday Night Movie Date: Very funny guy, age 38, dark hair, glasses. But, very small in stature. I felt like a giant. He says he's 5'9 but he is more like 5'6 because I was taller than he was. And just small framed. He has a quick wit sense of humor that I can see enjoying every time. Very good banter between us. Jon Stewart type of humor and delivery of jokes. He has a sad story of a 16-year marriage to his first love and only lover that has left him more than a little gun shy. I think he might be damaged beyond repair but he is well aware. He's just looking for friends. I told him, perfect, we can definitely be friends.

As I looked at him, I wasn't turned on or turned off. Because he was so shut down in some senses, he wasn't giving off any romantic vibe whatsoever. He was giving off more of a brotherly vibe. I couldn't believe he's only ever had sex with one woman. I think we'll call him my Jersey Male Friend (JMF), if we do indeed hang out more. I hope we do. I could use some friends in Jersey.

Enjoyed Leap Year by the way. And the accent of Matthew Goode against the backdrop of Ireland. Need to see what more he's done and bring it to my netflix inbox immediately.

Sunday Lunch Date: We all knew I had reservations about Filmmaker man in his inability to communicate by phone or email well. But I still went because the field is already narrowed down by "must love dogs and must not mind weight" so if they get past those two barriers, I think they deserve a chance. I wanted this date to go well. I wanted to start dating a man from MA who makes films, lives in his father's old house that has a pond and woods and a perfect place for dogs.

The man I met is struggling. He's 40 and he has to live with his brother for financial reasons. Yet he's living his dream of trying to make films. But he's so incredibly boring. I asked every question imaginable, I tried to pick his brain about his industry, his work process, sharing my writing process to see if we could compare. I asked him what he does for fun, he didn't have an answer. I asked him what did for New Year's, he didn't have an answer. I asked him if he ever comes into NYC, he said (and I quote) "Not since they cleaned it up." And went on to say a group of guys would go to Times Square for porn. I asked if he's traveled. Not out of the country. I know, not everyone can afford it. He's spent a huge amount of money on his movie, his baby, that he's trying to shop around buyers. I admire that he's chasing his dream. God knows I wish I could be chasing mine.

But when it comes right down to it, I did not feel attracted to him, to who he is, despite blond hair, blue eyes. His brother on the other hand, of course, I found very attractive. (No, he wasn't there, but he stars in the Filmmaker's films.) Filmmaker man did pay, insisted on paying in fact. He had nice manners, opening doors, helping me hang my coat, but didn't ask any questions of interest about me or my life.

I did thank him with a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. And he came back with a bear hug that wouldn't let go and then landed a huge kiss on my lips, pulling away and then coming in again with lips open as I started to say something and hands on my face to keep my face still. Bam, the tongue. I thought I would gag, it was so unexpected. He didn't even wait to see if I was responding, he just bulldozed right in. I had to stand my ground, lips closed and push against him slightly.

Luckily the static of the dry air gave us both a shock and I shivered from the cold and said I should go while he said "That shock is just because I'm such a good kisser." Ummm, yeah. Not so much. He asked what I was doing for the "long weekend" and I couldn't understand. Oh MLK Day, right, we don't have that off. Did I mention I work for Ze Zermans. Yeah so, I expect he'll pursue me and I'll have to tell him I'm not interested.

So.......why does this all feel so wrong? What the hell is up with the laws of attraction? Why am I not attracted to this man and his obvious interest in me? Hell if I know.

Hell
if
I
know.

A 3-Date Weekend

2010-01-08T07:25:00.002-05:00

Alrighty, I need some words of encouragement. Of course, they could all cancel, but....as of this moment, I have scored 3 dates this weekend. 2 OKStupid and 1 eHarmless. Would you like a little preview? OK.

Saturday lunch: He's 29 (rawr) and an accomplished musician who has sat in with Slash and Eric Clapton on some jam sessions. He's got the photos to prove it, unless he's a photoshop expert. We're both thinking strictly FwB here. I'm good with that thought right now, because people, it has been a flipping 13 months. This Sag is dying.

Saturday night: He's 37 and also a musician. Not as much of a name-dropper as the 29 year old, but still, he's composing and he's open-miking it often. His day job involves IT. He asked me to go see Leap Year. Of course I said yes, and not just because of the storyline (but I love the idea of that movie's storyline).

Sunday lunch: He's 40 and a filmmaker. He was in LA for a few years, and namedropped that he'd worked with Brad Pitt before the Thelma & Louise big break. He's hired agents who are shopping his film around this year on the festival circuit. Entourage anyone? He's in MA and we're meeting halfway in CT. He was willing to drive all the way here, but I didn't like the pressure that made me feel. We are only meeting for lunch, and I have a feeling we're not going to click because he made a comment about me being able to "judge for myself if he's self-centered" when we meet. Clearly a past issue for him because I've never thought nor indicated that to him in any way. He also said he likes long-distance relationships because he's fine with only seeing someone once a week. Not exactly what I'm looking for.

Goodness, looks like I have to do some laundry tonight.

In the wings....

A dog-loving, world traveling design engineer in Wisconsin.

An adrenaline junkie in New York.

So far, I would say TwentyTen is pretty entertaining so far. Stay tuned to see if there's any substance.

Exercise and Jake TV

2010-01-03T21:21:00.003-05:00

Well there it is....Le Olde Nordictrack. Never had a heart rate monitor before when I used this so I had no idea what type of workout I might have when I climbed on board last night while watching (Yes, this season I will watch.) The Bachelor. I'm only watching for Jake who seems so genuine and sincere, he's surely a train wreck about to unfold. It is a show about love that focuses nearly 80% on sex appeal. Gotta love the message we're sending.

Anyway, to the exercise. Managed to get my heart rate up to 165 at times, but my average was still low, 126. Still, I was surprised. And after EXTENSIVE stretching last night, I am proud to say that I can walk just fine this morning and in fact, my back hurts LESS today than it did yesterday morning.

The one glitch about my schedule I was hoping to stick to is that I put eating dinner before working out. That's not a good idea and that's not really going to happen. So I'm going to have to adjust, perhaps with larger lunches and lighter dinners, after exercising. The whole point of exercising at night is to combat the "stuff your face while watching tv" syndrome. If I'm watching tv, I need to be on the nordictrack at least half of the time.

Well, I'll work the kinks out somehow. I have to. Since mid-October, I've gained 22 lbs. That's just 3 months. That's ridiculous. I fought so hard all last year for this?! Talk about being pissed off at myself. Now I just hope it doesn't take me an entire year to lose 22 lbs. The yo-yo effect is not a good thing, getting slower with each year a woman gets older.

2010 with a Twist

2010-01-03T13:10:00.009-05:00

30-Day To-Do List

Contact the hypnotherapists.
Search for used treadmill.
Look for ways to cut monthly budget.
Stick to the Off/On lists below; assess after 30 days: February 2.

My Off List

pizza
bread (EXCEPT Ezekiel sprout bread and vitatop muffintops for fiber/protein)
sugar
chocolate
ice cream
butter
milk (except Hood Calorie Countdown FatFree Diary Beverage)
cheese
potatoes
rice
pasta
fruit (except listed below)
alcohol (exception: 1st dates, one drink allowed)

My On List

vegetables of all kinds (except potatoes)
unsweetened cranberry juice
blueberries
smart balance peanut butter
walnuts
lean chicken breast
lean turkey breast
buffalo red meat (once a week)
64 ounces of water (at a minimum)
my supplements
lo-carb whey protein powder
miracle noodles (zero cals, 100% fiber, made of yam flour)
popcorn (homemade popped, once a week, movie night)

New Dos of the 2010 Equation

Take no work home from office.

Dinner & Communications 6-8 PM (no later than 8 PM)

Meditation (between the hours of) 8-10 PM

Nordictrack (between the hours of) 8-10 PM while watching TV or reading

Bed 11 PM Sun-Thurs

A Wonderful Resolution

2010-01-01T11:48:00.003-05:00

Yes, you have to right-click on it to read it, sorry (blogger sucks sometimes).

Yes, you can save as, copy it and keep it. Credit is given for the poem to Douglas Pagels. The images are my very own orchids.

Happy New Year Everyone.

I Got a NYE Kiss for Ya

2009-12-31T17:12:00.003-05:00

Fading Away

2009-12-27T10:12:00.027-05:00

I've been staring at the blankness of this entry for some time. I know what I want to say; I just lack the desire to type it out. And if, after seeing the length of the post, you lack the desire to read it, I wouldn't blame you at all.

Ennui. It is the epitome of laze that I long for a talk-to-type software program when my fingers are fully capable of moving. Slothlike has become not only a way of being but a state of mind.

I don't really have anything all that interesting to put down, but this isn't for anyone else as I remind myself. You're all just along for the ride, on the sidelines, staring at the train wreck or the occasional touchdown.

There's just a few loose ends rattling around my head I guess. I'll try to organize them into subjects as best I can, so that I can make some semblance of sense and perhaps peace, with myself.

I don't usually outline my writing. I prefer to just freeform it. But to help lend focus I wrote down major topics, then sub-topics. I wrote: Weight Loss & Exercise, Men, Writing, Being a Total Bore. What do you think? I think they're all related. Of course they are. Everything in life is symbiotic; I often try to fool myself into thinking it isn't. And if you think I'm being "too hard on myself," spare me and don't bother reading. Last thing I need is to be coddled.

Weight Loss & Exercise

Food
I'm fat as ever. I've been indulging in my addiction since October. I tried, very hard I might add, to follow Weight Watchers. Got all the books from a lifetime member, got very excited, planned out everything, and yeah, no. Not possible for this carbohydrate addict. The best way I can describe this to you is to paraphrase Mr Craig Ferguson when he wrote about his alcoholism. "If I could have just one drink, I would...." If just one portion of carbs could be enough....

Considering my favorite part of the vast array of Christmas dinner food was the popovers (mashed potatoes coming in a close 2nd), I know the deal. And I am just free-falling to tell myself otherwise. So I am in freefall. When you can close your eyes and actually visualize yourself crawling into a popover and sleeping the winter away, yeah, you know the deal.

I have carbs all over my kitchen. My best friends and my worst enemies. I will work on removing them between now and January 1. Here we go again. Everyone falls off their respective vice wagons; but we can just get back on if we want to. If we look back over the last 3 years of this blog (trust me, I did so you don't have to), we will see that I had the most success lo-carbing + no exercising. Even if that's just a temporary kickstart, I'll take the value for what it is worth.

I have thought maybe I didn't want to get back on the wagon again, but then yeah...the potential of never dating again was too painful to imagine.

Exercise
Enter a real problem. Not just a mental problem, but a logistical physical problem. I had to put my gym membership on hold (I have a year to go back without new sign-up fees). It increased to almost $50/month to basically use a treadmill. Because I've had to add the monthly expense of hiring a pet sitter, at $15/visit or approximately $144 w/ discount per month, I've had to adjust some expenses. However, the care for the dogs is not only vital to my sanity (no longer feel anxiety on the drive home which is good), it is becoming necessary for their health as well, particularly the rescue girl.

I've long since given up on the BowFlex as too many moving parts and dog hair sure to clog it almost immediately, but I secretly lusted after the NordicTrack Incline Climber despite it being touted by the dreaded Jillan Michaels. I even thought I could afford their payment plan option. Oh yes, except, I tried and I don't meet their requirements for approval. So they can suck it. The answer isn't some expensive piece of equipment anyway.

Searching for used equipment, and considering busting out the old NordicTrack skier as a "better than nothing" option. And before anyone leaves a comment that says "Just walk briskly around the lake with the dogs," please....I have a heart monitor people, I know the deal. I know the range my heart rate needs to get into (pretty high) and I cannot walk (and I'm unable to run) at that pace with or without the dogs, on my own, around the lake. I need a machine to help me otherwise it is just wasted effort. And wasted effort soon becomes a give-up situation for me.

Assistance
I have the names of 2 hypnotherapists. I just need to learn rates and make a decision. I'm not sure I can afford either, but because one is seeking additional income due to cutbacks on their other job, I'm crossing my fingers I can afford her and she can help me turn off the carb cravings. Don't worry, I know the work is mine to do, but I also know that the subconscious mind holds the freaking key for me. There are really wrong programs playing in my head, and I need help to turn them off.

Men
Oh, my favorite subject I love to hate. Much of what I write is with sadness, but without surprise. Reality is one tough bitch.

The Sorry Sad Loser (Formerly Last Love of My Life)
We can all breathe a collective sigh of relief (and a few rolling of the eyes I'm sure), when I write that I'm 99.9% certain, as certain as anyone can ever be about the uncertainty of another person's actions, that I will never get a text message, email, phone call, or unexpected visit from L again. I took care of it without having to block his number or change my number. I took care of it, not unlike the way a Jersey Girl would take care of it and not unlike the way Tony Soprano would take care of it. Enough said. (Yes, he's still alive with both kneecaps, but I will forever imagine that I have his virtual balls in a lockbox I never intend to open.)

eHarmless & OKStupid
The communication requests and first messages from these sites have been off the charts in the last half of December. So much so that it has become rather time-consuming to sort through it. I am certain this is holiday-effect, in which guys suddenly feel like they don't want to spend another year alone so they better get on the dating track the way some people begin to exercise come January 1. Hey, their loneliness might be my opportunity; I'll take it.

I'm approaching these interested guys from the "non-physical attraction" angle. I can't say that any of their photos get me all giddy with delight. And I'm thinking that's a good thing. I like what they have to say about their lives instead. Because let's face it, my photo might rock but my stomach resembles a bunch of rocks. So perhaps it is time to dial down the expectations on what a match for me might look like. It isn't settling; it is dealing with that bitch of reality. Rocketing to the top priority is whether or not he minds that I have weight to lose.

I'm communicating with guys from all over the country, which is interesting. Learning a bit about Alaska, northern Westchester NY county, Cedar Rapids Iowa, as well as closer to home Woodbridge NJ and my old college haunt the Happy Valley of western MA.

I do disclose the fat, as the saying goes, but for some reason the guys always write back "You look great to me," or "I'm sure it isn't as big of a deal as you're making it." Sigh. Yet, as I exchange communication with these guys, I suspect that if they met me, that would be the end of it. This isn't a confidence issue; this is a reality check. I FEEL beautiful, until I look at myself in a full-length mirror or my sister hands me a photo of myself from the October wedding. Reality is a bitch.

I look good on paper, I pass favorably in photos I take of myself to make sure the angle is good, and even a bit of my smiling webcam face is winning for some guys, but when a guy asks me if I'd like to go skiing or rock climbing, my heart and mind say YES, but I look down at myself and reality is that bitch again, putting it into perspective, "He has no idea what you're really like." He has no idea I'm capable of carrying not one marsupial but two in my pouch.

Chicago BOY
Mr Vegas and I had it out via email after he commented on a birthday photo in which I was wearing my "Kiss Me I'm the Birthday Girl" shirt: "I would have kissed you!" Excuse me? Go get yourself a life buddy, you missed the boat, the boat dock, and the entire travel itinerary. Upon several emails back and forth and GREAT disbelief on his part that he had missed my "signals" in Vegas (I had to spell them out including the towel, the asking, the I'm tired comment etc), HE concluded that, yes, he was "clueless with women." Um obvs. Ridic obvs. Grow up.

The Married Italian
Molto Bello Italia and I have settled into that zone where after communicating nonstop for two months you no longer have anything new to say and to repeat the same old daily things seems dull and well, redundant. There are no more good mornings and goodnights, no more what are you doing, what are you eating for lunch, what will you watch on tv tonight. Questions I ask go unanswered and he is clearly (and rightly so) focused on more important things. This is not just a holiday break, this is a change in the friendship since Vegas, mostly on his part, but the less he messaged me, the more I could understand the logic of it, if not the emotions.

It isn't the first time I've been some guy's distraction from his dull or boring life (there was this time in Arizona once....). And it isn't the first time that initial fascination with me wanes and turns into that averageness of every other person he knows and I cease to be unique. Every person comes into our life for a time, a season, or a lifetime. Or something like that.

Basically, I'm not surprised. I hope this means his family life is warmer, closer, or whatever. I'll always hold him in high regard as a dear friend and for that brief time a fantastic muse inspiring me to write new poetry; but there's just no way to carry on that high level of attention when it isn't being returned. Some flames burn forever and some burn brightly for a short time.

Sing it, Bruce: "What can I do, what can I say? Oh darlin, I don't want to fade away..."

My New Year's Eve Plan B
I've been asked by Mr Harry Pottypants to "hang out" with him at his newly purchased condo on New Year's Eve. Might be marginally better than spending it alone, although I've spent enough NYEs alone to know that there's no real adverse effect on me. We'll see. I stipulated that hanging out would not be "getting drunk and having sex," but more likely "video games and a chick flick of my choice" to which he readily agreed (sucka). In his invitation, he wrote, "You've been one of the more significant people in my life this year so it seems fitting to hang out if we've both got nothing else to do." Way to sell it. At his young age (32, I think), he really should have other options. He claims there's a friend's party but it is too far for his taste to drive.

Writing
I took a break, and now I don't want to go back to it. And I feel like if I continue to be distracted by twitter and this blog (and blog reading of others), then the writing will stay firmly on hiatus. What to do, what to do, what to do.

Being a Total Bore
Rather sick of myself in general.

Went to see Up in the Air, and I thought I was watching a "Reasons to Kill Yourself" Infomercial brought to you by Hertz, American Airlines, and Chrysler. Clooney, what were you thinking? And the awards being thrown at this movie need some explanation. Or I need a kick in my grumpy pants. Perhaps one's view on life at the time slants a movie, ya think?

Not at all surprised that even the Princess of Sweden and I have had nothing to talk about for a while now. I think I'm all talked out.

The more time that passes, the more things stay the same.

Non-Receptive Surfaces

2009-12-23T05:52:00.005-05:00

He always said, "Worry only sticks to receptive surfaces...."

I'm one of those lovable nutcases who believes in signs from the universe and cosmic happenings. I'm spiritual but not religious. I believe what we do does influence the outcome of what happens. The weekend happenings mentioned in the previous post were not lost on me, and I found myself wondering what the universe was trying to tell me. It isn't always good news I'm afraid, but warning signs.

So when I'm driving home from work and my phone starts ringing a special ring tone that come to find out I haven't heard in more than a year, I really couldn't figure out what my phone was doing: not a text message ringtone, not an email ringtone, not a phone call ringtone. Until I looked down and almost drove off the road.

It was L calling, and I had given him a ringtone all of his own with a lovely little black and white photo of him playing guitar right there next to the number. It may as well have been dancing naked for the shock I felt. I couldn't have answered it even if I wanted. And I didn't want. No really I didn't. Surely you know, after the last post and the post where I had to tell him before my birthday that I never wanted to see him again, that I'm really not interested in this man anymore. Not matter how much I loved him once; he's like poison to me now.

But STILL the whole situation tugs at my worthless heart and drags me down. People believe that women like drama even while they say they don't, thus continuing the vicious cycle. I don't know, I can't stand this. It gets under my skin, I want to hide, I eat more, and I just can't focus. Do I sound like I'm enjoying myself? Not my idea of fun.

He was never the type to leave much voicemail in general in the 4 years we were together. So when the voicemail notice came on, I was curious and listened. Damn his voice.

Oddness. He had a dream, and not being an overly spiritual man (perhaps his age is wearing him down), I found it odd that he would put so much emphasis on it. Just a lie, just an excuse, bullshit to get to talk to me, these thoughts were echoed by the ever wise Sweden who was thankfully available for immediate consultation.

If so, he chose the one subject matter that he knew would sink me: he had a dream about my sweet Sena. He said she came to him in this dream and he was concerned it meant something was wrong with me.

At face value, from someone else, I would find that particularly moving and sweet.

From him, I feel it is manipulative and controlling, even if it is true. Particularly when at the end of the voicemail, he says "Don't call me. I'll try to call again."

Of course, don't call him and disturb the Mrs.

ASSHOLE. Most women WOULD call, immediately, because we don't like to be told what to do.

And then there were two further communications. Text messages. Within one minute of each other.

1st: Are you ok?

2nd: Sorry to bother you, don't write me back.

Um passive-aggressive tendencies anyone?

I don't know about you but that just pisses me off.

Anyone like this kind of drama? You can have it.

I'm going into the How To Recover From Loving a Lying Sex Addict Protection Program.

The Mistletoe Effect

2009-12-21T21:31:00.009-05:00

I've been experimenting with something I've dubbed The Mistletoe Effect. Pretty much since the moment I purchased the mistletoe on Saturday, I've had some distinctly sweet and warm moments. Some flirty moments with men I've come across and some warm camaraderie moments with women I've come across. Overall, in 2 days during the time I'm out of the house, I've had 4 kisses and 7 comments about being santa's elf, wearing mistletoe, or seeming in the holiday spirit.

All in all, laughter was involved and that is a good thing in my book.

The only bad moment was when my manager told me today that I couldn't "make" anyone kiss me because it would be an HR issue....as if that is what I was trying to do? What was perversely amusing is that it would also be an HR issue to see the amount of alcohol being passed around the department, but I kept my response to myself.

The mistletoe (and my smile) are completely responsible for my being invited to a Christmas Eve party. Nevermind the fact that I was a last minute invite; I'll take it. I was told to bring my santa hat, my mistletoe, and my smile. Done and done.

However, every day I fight the feeling that I'm drowning and that I want to run away. It is one part work, one part loneliness, and one part health. Lurking around me is a darkness that threatens to pull me under at any moment. For example...

It isn't a good moment on Saturday when you pull into a parking lot and see your ex-lover's SUV outside the store you were going into which is less than 5 minutes from your house and more than 30 minutes from his new place. And you sit there a safe distance away and watch him come out a few minutes later with so many bottles of alcohol he needs a store clerk to help him and you just know he's having a holiday party that night with his new "I'll never get married again" wife.

It isn't a good moment on Sunday when the universe tells you in no uncertain terms that you need to STOP multitasking by sending you on your backside so suddenly that you hear your head smack against the pavement and sprain your wrist and break two veins open in your hand. You lay there looking up at the blue sky wondering what if you can't move, how long would you be there before someone came to find you while your non-lassie dog circles you with the frisbee securely in his mouth. And what was it you were trying to do? Toss the frisbee with one hand while taking a photo of said frisbee moment with the other hand.

It isn't a good moment Monday when you randomly come across your ex-lover's 25-year old son at the pizza parlor he used to work at but was no longer supposed to be working at but apparently is once again working at right around the corner from your house and he stares at you like he knows you even though he doesn't and at the stop sign you want to get out of the car and go up to him and simultaneously tell him what an asshole his father is and what a handsome 25-year old he is and how you hope he doesn't use women like his father.

I know there are some good moments out there waiting in the new year....I just might have to move in order to find them.

Looking Back Trivia

2009-12-20T11:57:00.010-05:00

OK, who has their thinking caps on or their lucky underwear? Anyone? Grab another drink (whatever your choice of beverage may be). Here are 12 questions that stumped just about everyone except one of my sisters, the Princess of Sweden, and the Princess' Consort (Clearly HE pays attention...can we clone him to create more men who pay attention?). Sweden won a 3-way tie for a Marshall's gift certificate.

I should give an online prize....hmmm.....what could I do.

Well, I could design some bling for you or consult on a new design or colors for your blog. Or I could guest blog...maybe if I promise to be really funny. Or I could write you a poem based on your life. Or bake you dog-hair cookies.

Well, let's see if anyone even takes the bloody test shall we? If you were at the party, you cannot participate online. If you don't have a blog and you win, we'll sort it out.

Each answer (and sub-answer within each question) is worth 1 point. For example, there is more than one answer in the 1st question; Each answer is worth 1 point. Bonus answers=1 point.

I am holding off on posting the answers in the comment section, because silly me, that's where you need to paste your answers. I'm bright like that.

I hope it is worth a laugh.

1. International guys tend to like me. Select the countries I've dated men from....

Scotland
Sweden
Switzerland
Bermuda
England
Iceland
Germany
Costa Rica
Ireland
Canada
Turkey
Iran
Spain
Mexico
Morocco
Saudi Arabia
China
Japan
Australia
India
Slovakia
Poland
Russia
Ukraine
Egypt
Israel
Armenia
South Africa

Bonus: I currently have a crush on a guy from what country?

2. They say time mellows us all. I have done a few things I said I would "never" do. Are these any of them?

Date a Republican.
Root for the Yankees.
Drive into NYC.
Swim in the Hudson River.
Stand outside Bruce Springsteen's house.

3. In which city and year did I get married? October 2....

1990 Istanbul
1989 Izmir
1991 Ankara
1992 Kuşasadi

Bonus: We broke a civil law getting married. What was it?

4. What is one of my favorite expressions?

It is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all.
If it is meant to be, it will be.
If I don't laugh, I'll cry.
If only my dog could wear a suit, I'd have a date on Saturday night.
If you love something, let it go.

5. In New Jersey, I live:

In a condo on the Jersey shore.
As close to Bruce Springsteen's house as possible.
In a house on a lake.
In a carriage house on a beautiful estate.

Bonus: Rent or own?

6. I have:

two dogs and one cat
five cats and one dog
three dogs and three cats
one dog and one cat

Bonus: One of the animals is named after a character from a TV/movie series. Name the TV/movie series.

7. I have how many tattoos?

1
none
3
2

Bonus: True or False: I want to get one (or one more).

8. Which comedian makes me laugh the most these days?

Kathy Griffin
David Letterman
Jon Stewart
Craig Ferguson
Conan O'Brien

Bonus: I was in the live audience for a taping of what show in NYC?

9. When I was in 2nd grade class, what scandalous act did I commit?

Kissed a girl.
Punched a boy.
Took my shirt off.
Swore at the teacher.

Bonus: True or False: My reasoning at the time was that my mother told me to do it.

10. If I didn't have doggies depending upon me, I would:

Travel the world as a poet.
Live on a horse farm in Kentucky.
Move to Canada to study wolves.
Work on a cruise ship.

Bonus: Yes or No: I will publish my writing some day.

Looking Back Photos

2009-12-20T10:38:00.014-05:00

Just a side note...yes, a side note at the start....didn't any of my cat following friends enjoy the LOLZ Cats performing the Twilight movies? I know people are busy, but just don't forget to laugh people.

I've had some requests from people who couldn't attend the party if I could share both the card photos and the trivia questions. OK. I can do that. Happy to do that.

These are photos that were pulled to make a lovely giant card that people signed at my birthday party. My intention is to frame it and hang it so when memory really starts to go, I can try to remember who everyone is. I'm already forgetting to-do list things. Not a good sign people.

Apologies to friends and family, because I did not ask your permission to have your faces on here. You can sue me, but wait until I've sold a few books first. Otherwise, all you'll be getting are 2 dogs and a cat and a really dog-broke RAV4.

You want a little commentary on the photos? OK, here we go...in random order.

I don't know the timeframe, before age 12 definitely. My first dog, Ruff (full name I think was Ruff MacGregor Gray for some reason; I didn't name him though it sounds like a name I would have come up with). He was a West Highland Terrier and incredibly stubborn. That's what I remember most. He essentially died of a heart attack, and I know my mother carries guilt because she overfed him. Ha, just like she overfed me. I also know that my mother's response here would be "I did the best I could." You did, I know.

By the way, that chair was the ugliest couch in the 1970s world I grew up in.

At Cape Cod, me and the ever beautiful and beach-loving Sena during the Living with the Scottish DJ period. It would be during these 4 years that I would meet the Princess of Sweden, gain 100 lbs, and 9/11 would take place.

Summer 1987. Just graduated HS, 2 friends and I on our first "international" trip, a cruise out of Boston to Bermuda. Unbelievably fun.

1987 HS Graduation. Amazing what we thought we knew then.

I am guessing this is 1984/85. Yes, my interest in Mr Springsteen went back further than that.

Skiing. One of the lost past-times that I used to live for. This is Vermont, Killington maybe, definitely some time in the early 80s I guess (before I fell victim to the perms). Gave up skiing when I married someone who tried to ski once but just could not stand the cold. Hard to rationalize the expense when your husband can't get a job and you don't want to hit the slopes alone. I would love to get back into this sport. I am pretty sure that even if they allowed my weight on skis, and I signed a waiver to absolve all others responsibility if I take anyone out with me if I fell down, that I would be incapable of moving the next day. I might try it, we'll see.

My Mom and me, wasn't she smoking hot in that dress? She looked like ribbon candy! Of course, the look on my face pretty much reads: "Where's the cake already?"

You can right-click on these to see the larger image. On the left is the only time I've ever worn a bikini. People tell me I still have that facial expression though. That's awesome. On the right, me in Dundee Scotland, posing with a magnificent creature who would be moved around the city and appear like a mythical beast...oh wait, he was. And I'm not talking about the DJ who took the photo. Looking at these two images side by side, I can say that I definitely enjoy striking a pose. Go figure.

Oh yes, Senior Prom. 1987. I rocked that dress. If only I realized how much back then. My date? A Navy guy who refused to wear his dress whites. Oh yeah, also my 1st...yup. File under What Was I Thinking? As a teenager, clearly, I wasn't.

Left to right: Married life; he let me hang that poster up. My siblings holding me. Attempting to ice skate in the Boston Gardens with my spouse who hated the cold. My tomboy look circa age 14, with my horse, yet another lost enjoyment of mine. If only I'd never discovered boys.

Definitely mid-70s. My cousin and I looking quite adorable for another cousin's wedding. Someone taught that boy well; he at least looks like he knows what he's doing. I of course, have a stain on my dress.

Holy hell peeps, this is one long post. I'm going to break the trivia questions into another post, so come on back.

Mr President, Jack Bauer on the Line

2009-12-19T06:02:00.011-05:00

I have so many little mundane things to blog about....I guess that's what snowstorms will be for...getting caught up on things like that. Just as soon as I go find some mistletoe to pin to me along with the last carton of milk in a 5-mile radius.

But first two things: Mr President, Jack Bauer, and Santa. (That's 3 things but who's counting?)

I got a really cool personalized holiday card from the President - did you? I love what technology allows us to do. Check it out and make your own to send to a friend.

_____________

And now, I have to send a shoutout to my niece, Ms Jenn resident of the West Village in New York City. I have to say kudos to her grace and true "new yorker" sensibility (even though - or perhaps because - she was raised in Connecticut).

Yesterday, she just happened to cross paths with Mr. Kiefer Sutherland (link is clip of him butt-kissing his fanbase at The Con) at her gym, about 5-10 minutes from her residence. And she just said hi back when he said hi. See what I mean about uber coolness? Her gym, his gym.

~~My selfish jealousies~~ Security won't let me disclose the location, for fear that thousands of 24 fans will descend there and wait. But safe to say, one might come across his path again if one were to frequent said establishment.

In general, my niece's aunt is a star struck freak who is also a total klutz. Yes, I'm talking about me. I would have tripped down the stairs, and taken the superhero Jack Bauer actor, down with me like a MAC truck without brakes. And then Kiefer (yes people, it is I before E: K-i-e-f-e-r) would have every reason to headbutt me, and I would probably beg him to do so.

And I suspect this is why there has not been an invitation to be my niece's guest at the gym. Well played, Jenn, well played. Trust me, I wouldn't go in a million years.

Hot chocolate or lunch at a trendy locale, that I can do. The worst that could happen is I accidentally pierce myself with a fork while oogling a celeb. Exercising where celebs might be, not a chance in hell. Insurance doesn't cover the health risks involved to myself and those around me.

If you are a 24 ~~freak~~ fan, may I suggest you check out KieferSutherland24.net. Big rumor that this is the last season of 24. Hope so, as much as I love it even as a liberal, it has become rather formulaic and they should go out on a big NYC-based note. In the office, coworkers count how many times Jack says NOW! or Mr/Madam President. And some take a drink each time the body count rises in honor of Sutherland's own alcoholic tendencies (yes I work with a real fun group of folks obviously). He's become a cardboard cutout superhero. Which is great, don't get me wrong. Just like Superman, Batman, Jason Bourne, etc. Fun to watch, but there's less and less substance as the years roll on. Just my opinion, Kiefer, don't headbutt me please.

Case in point, I leave you with this ~~hilarious~~ serious well-edited clip of Jack Bauer interrogating Santa. The end is the best!

Secret Santa Soriee!

2009-12-15T07:32:00.010-05:00

Someone in Tulsa has an incredible amount of creative time on their hands, in my opinion!

First of all, it was INCREDIBLE feeling to see that package waiting for me when I got home from a really busy work day. It made my heart skip a beat! Love that feeling.

Somehow, some way my Secret Santa MADE me a Red Sox sign and a wolf plaque....on corkboard.....I'm impressed. I can assure them it all arrived safely; they'd expressed loving concern for their creations on the card. They are not hanging up yet but they will be.

Also included was some soap scented so purely that I could smell green tea through the box. It was awesome. I know, I'm a dirty girl. Thanks for keeping me clean and stress free to boot.

Also included was a delightful little poem with some ~~adorable~~ delicious accompanying attachments. That made my day extra special, and I quickly lit the candle with the match they sent. (Of course, you know that's illegal thru the post office but we're not telling!)

Also included was several bars of dark German chocolate, named Moser Roth, which sounds to me like a character in a book. I might just be inspired! I'm telling you, it gives Belgium chocolate a run for its money! Fantastico! And may I also say I've never had the candy milkmaids before but they are rather addicting. They were scattered about the box like edible confetti. Yum.

Here is the candle lit on one of my favorite candle holders, which after taking the photo, I realized it is rather Oklahoma in nature. I do love me some wide prairie plains.

Thank you Tulsa! Happy holidays to you too! I hope your Secret Santa rocks as much as mine does.

My Forever 39 Party

2009-12-13T21:43:00.009-05:00

Plus, I just HAD to soak my pudgy aching footsies...at 2AM.

I think I may make my next "40-year quest" to soak my feet in as many tubs as possible.

Biggest surprise: A bracelet from Tiffany's. (Even though I said no gifts! I was floored.)

Funniest moment: My mom tucking 2 quarters into her brassiere at the dinner table, for "slots" even though they no longer take coins.

Ocean's 11 moment: They wouldn't let me bring the balloons onto the casino floor.

Win/Win: I only almost teared up twice. But no tears were spilled! Mostly because we were all laughing too much for me to feel even a serious moment of sadness. Yay! Mission accomplished.

Friends moment: HS friends met after-HS friends...and the worlds did not explode! Yay! I'm not George Costanza after all. I am sure you are all much relieved!

Family: Special superduper thanks to my sisters for putting on their "gambling faces" and playing along with me even though they don't gamble. We had some great moments of laughter.

Overall, I felt very blessed and warm, surrounded by love that has spanned 40 -freaking- years.

How lucky am I?! Priceless.

Now Something Light

2009-12-12T02:45:00.002-05:00

After that last post, I really wanted to find something light.

And guess what....sweet MBI sent me that adorable little clip over there on the left.

Soooooo cute! I've played a million times already. Go on, click on it...

And I also found these:

If you have a thing for cats, enjoying poking fun at the Twilight movies, or just have a funny bone, you will enjoy these two blog posts from Microsuede. Brilliant.

LOLZCats acting out Twilight

LOLZCats acting out Twilight: New Moon

Next Time It's a Restraining Order

2009-12-11T23:05:00.011-05:00

So with all the Vegas-ish out of my system, I guess it is back to the mundane world of office work, crushing on Italian guys who like Springsteen, and dodging creeps in the American dating pool.

Except no, wait. Is it a bird? A Plane? No, Drama Central calling? Yes, there is 55 minutes left in my 39th year and I have to tell you what happened.

Of no real consequence, both Mr No Fly and Mr Costa Rica sent me emails this week. Right, no answer. Rather interesting that they still try to contact me. I must reek of desperation.

And what should also be of no real consequence but we all know it is....because that is what love does, it causes consequences....I have to tell you that -YET- again I had to face my ex. L should be for Loser. 60L = 60-year old loser. Yet again he brought his charming boyish handsome self unannounced to my door while I was home. Yet again...

Enough with the deja-fucking-vu already, this isn't a glitch in the Matrix Neo, this is my life!

Frown on face, I open the door. "What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday."

*blink blink blink*

"You can't do that. You can't wish me a happy birthday."

"Why not?"

"Because....you....didn't bother to wish me one last year."

He laughs and stands there, waiting for me to let him in the door. I don't.

"Well this year you're on my mind for some reason."

"Well this year you're married...to someone else."

"How are you?" That's his response. How.Are.You.

"How's your wife?" I can play that game.

More laughter. "She's fine. I didn't think that would matter to you so much."

"Well, you're wrong. You're you. I'm me. And you can't come here anymore."

"OK. You're right."

"I don't....."

Silence. I try to find the words. Again. I try to make my voice work.

"I don't...." I can feel the fucking tears sticking in the back of my throat.

He looks away and starts to turn away. He knows.

"I don't want to see you ever again."

There it is. I can't believe I had to say those words. My throat feels raw like I swallowed hot coals and pieces of glass. I had to tell the man that I had wanted to spend the rest of my life with that I never wanted to see him again.

"OK you won't. I never meant to hurt you."

Fuck, like it is my fault, like I'm weak to be hurt. Fuck you I wanted to shout out at him. But I was too weak...too weak for words.

He walks off the step and down the driveway. Just a glitch in the matrix, my eyes start to twitch like a computer screen megahertzing off kilter. I wish I could just fade away like some burnt out television tube. Sagittarian escape mode has kicked into full speed and I really am still fighting the urge to disappear somehow.

I can barely see him drive off because I'm crying so hard. It's been over SO LONG now and I'm still crying? Seriously. Get Over It. More than a year. Way more than a year in so many ways.

And on that note, bring on Forever 39. IT WILL GET BETTER! How exactly I don't know, but it will.

Mango Sno-Cone Martini at Cheeseburger in Paradise

What Happened in Vegas III

2009-12-11T22:37:00.005-05:00

Forgot about some videos stored in the Crackberry. Warning, the sound sucks on them all because it isn't a video recorder, so you're better off just turning the volume off.

Other than that, enjoy.

Too Poor to Be a Social Butterfly

2009-12-06T13:23:00.006-05:00

I don't think I've ever typed or said these words before, so they should be in sparkly letters if only they could be:

I went out alone last night to a bar where a band was playing.

Not just any band. A Bruce Springsteen tribute band that has been playing for 30 years; almost as long as The Boss himself.

But going alone. Let me tell you - that was the incredibly hard part. Harder than getting to Hoboken without actually going thru the Lincoln Tunnel accidentally. So hard that I spent a long time trying to talk myself out of it. But damn, I'm SO sick of sitting home alone, that when a genuine event that I would enjoy came up, I could not let it pass by. It just happened to be in a bar. Ugh.

Hard enough I think for a middle-aged woman to walk into a bar alone on a Saturday night. But add weight to that woman's hips, thighs, ass, face, etc, and you might as well paint her as invisible. Which is absolutely what happens, and unless you've ever been both fat and thinner, you can't recognize the difference. Even the doorman takes the guy's ID to check first despite you standing there. Even the crush of people you have to push through to get to the back where the band is playing don't give you a 2nd glance. You're just an amoeba squishing your way past them.

But I took a page out of the "Things I Learned in Vegas" play book. I simply remembered that not only did I not know any of these people, but chances were very high that I would never see any of them again. So, forget about them, and just put a smile on my face and have fun.

Well, a Sagittarian's idea of fun is usually a little left of center. I wasn't going to be a total wallflower, no, everyone had to look at me last night. Because I was rocking my Santa hat. People were going to notice this fat ass or at least the face that sat beneath the hat. I went with a black boatneck cotton shirt because it was comfortable and light under that wool hat but still showed a bit of shoulder. Jeans. And my 2 inch heel cowboy boots. Today I can't walk, but hey, it was worth it.

Got some courage on the rocks right away at the bar, because it is definitely good to have something in your hand as you try not to spill it on everyone mingling through the crowd. Then I went to meet the stage crew guy who made me aware this band existed. I thanked him profusely in my excitement to be there, and waited curiously for the band. I thought at the start, how good could they really be? I've seen Springsteen live so many times....

The crowd was a mix of young and older, typical Bruce fans. Over the course of the night, many (like 7 or 8 I think) guys wanted to play with the white ball on the end of my hat. (Freud, anyone?) They tapped it, sending it swinging from one side to the other.

One guy took the hat right off my head, which allowed me to say, "Oh you must be on the naughty list...." Took him totally off guard. Yes, he was cute. Young, but cute.

After his initial surprise, he gave a married (ring on the hand holding his drink) sheepish grin and the reply "No actually, I've been a very very good boy." Hmmm, had some temptations this year?

The band did two sets and by the end of the first set, the crowd was pretty hammered. I saw women throwing themselves against men's bodies - it was basically sex with your clothes still on. Amazing what alcohol can do. Of course, the guys were loving it. The guys who weren't getting it done to them, simply watched it being done to others. It was like a total peep show. And I'm a liberal poly-open all love all the time freak. Maybe it just bothered me because I wasn't doing it.

Anyway, so glad I was there for the music, and not to try to meet men. Not my ideal way to meet a guy, never has been, never will be. But I found some older, non-drinking Springsteen fans at the side of the stage and chatted with them.

And how good was the band? The band was so good that I actually dreamed about hiring them to play a private party, which they do. Ha. Sure if I could afford it. At least, they're the next best thing to seeing the E Street Band live. Score one more point for Jersey.

All in all though, it was an expensive night to be flying solo. I am glad I went, but I am too poor to be a social butterfly on a regular basis.

$16 - parking
$10 - cover charge
$17 - 2 drinks
$4 - hot chocolate and croissant breakfast on way home
unknown - tolls & gas

What Happened in Vegas Part II

2009-12-05T18:06:00.011-05:00

Please know, I've written my thoughts out and re-read and edited. There's nothing here that I haven't said to him already. I'm not airing anything shocking or private.

I'm stating some facts about what happened in Vegas that should have probably stayed in Vegas, but I needed to get them out of my head and this is my blog for doing exactly that.

You can stop reading at any time, but I cannot stop writing about my life.

Absolutely Grateful
I want to begin by immediately expressing that I had a WONDERFUL time in Vegas.

The highlights of the trip for me were the two shows: The Beatles Love Show and Criss Angel's BeLIEve Show. Both involve Cirque de Soleil, and both blew my mind. If you EVER get a chance to see The Beatles Love Show, do not turn it down! (The link has a preview of the show in the upper right corner of that page.) The show is as unique as the Fab Four were when they first hit the music world.

As for Chicago, I have thanked him many times for the trip and the memories of my first Vegas experience. Although, it was rather mild by Vegas standards, I can honestly say no one has ever "gifted" me an entire vacation before. Can many people say that? A five-star hotel. That's quite a luxurious life; certainly not one I am accustomed to living, and believe me I soaked it up in case it was my only chance EVAH.

Side Note: Years ago, L bought me a beach rental for a week, but once I was there, he backed out of joining me, and I had to fund the week's expenses myself.

Vegas. An unreal playground for the sexy, the wealthy, and the truly unusual.

Vegas was lock, stock, and barrel, paid for by Chicago. I thought I would have to pay for my meals, but no. I did pay for my drinks and my gambling, because Chicago did neither of those things, and it would not be fair to allow him to pay for that. Besides, if I won anything, I didn't want to have to split it. Selfish Sag comes out once in a while, and considering I unselfishly gave away my winnings last November, I wasn't about to set myself up like that again.

Chicago really was all too happy to have me there. He said a few times that when he brought his sister in the past, she often did not even want to have meals with him and his mother. (Yes, this is the 2nd time I had a vague Norman Bates moment.) I found that rather cold when I learned that about his sister at the beginning of the trip, but by the end of the trip, I could understand why someone might not want to spend a lot of time with him.

I'll come back to that. First, I have to talk about me (of course), and how I set my expectations.

Great Expectations
Let me share a little history, and fill in that since August, Chicago has contacted me every day (7 days a week) via email (because he doesn't text or IM), and we have had basic conversations back and forth around the topics of work, money, future hopes and dreams, how attracted he is to me, how freaking hormonal I am as I approach the 4-0, how dating should be better and different for both of us, how he's given up trying, how I'm still making a considerable effort to date, etc and so forth. I can say there was no topic left undisclosed. Including the topic of Friends who ~~Fuck~~ Fool Around. We were both all for it, providing neither of us was dating anyone else (to be fair and to be safe).

Zoom back to Vegas time. I got a nice little nightgown. I asked him to bring condoms. As far as I was concerned....it was on like Donkey Kong. Not so fast, Hormonal Cougargirl...not so fast.

He just didn't have IT....it.....the moves, the desire, the inclination, the "IT" required to magnetize the air and bring the two of us together. He had the compliments for how pretty I was, how nice I looked, how great I smelled, how awesome I made the trip, and this key point: that I was welcome to join him in Vegas anytime he went.

But...when it came to the romance or even raw passionate interest, nada. Less than zero level of interest shown.

And I tried. God how I tried. I threw myself at him, even literarily at one point. He would kiss but not french kiss, and he wouldn't make a move. I would make suggestive remarks, including "hey birthday boy is there anything I can do for you" wearing a towel, smelling fabulous, and oozing sexy from my earlobes - my very personal best effort. Taking the buckle off his belt only brought about an "I'm tired," comment that put me off instantly. And preferring to watch marathon episodes of Seinfeld were all the signs I needed.

OK, I thought, he just isn't THAT into me in THAT way. Got it, I thought. But then...he'd say something (I'm too hot for him to handle) or he'd do something (like spring for a taxi when my feet hurt), that would just make me think otherwise.

So I felt rather confused, even as I was enjoying myself. I sought out instant advice from my Carolina Girl and my Molto Bello Italia. But in the end, it wasn't me, isn't me, and never will be me. What it ultimately comes down to is that he is just THAT awkward with women, and he just doesn't know what he wants or how to go about getting it.

And I can be a sure thing birthday gift, but I can't make his package work for him. He's gotta put some effort up.

So... getting back to....why would even his own sister want to ditch him in Vegas?

Quirky Results
Well, I think there's a word for him: quirky. He's quirky and some people just can't handle it.

He's not talkative; he'll make little to no effort to converse. If we could only have sat across from each other and emailed, it would have been better. Yet, if he feels a certain level of comfort, he'll poke me in the shoulder at the oddest moments. Like when I was getting dressed or putting makeup on or standing at the window watching the view! And when I won on the slot machine, there was a poking that really startled me.

He doesn't know how to swim. He's been to Vegas 30 times and never tried to go into the pools or spas. He experienced his first jacuzzi on the trip with me. He doesn't gamble or drink or go to sex shows, yet he chooses to go to Vegas over any other destination.

In the end, I made his trip unique and special. I'm glad I was able to do that for him, even though my expectations (of being with him, not of Vegas) were not met.

He's led a sheltered life, by choice, yet he's chosen one of the most extravagant and flamboyant locations to vacation on a yearly basis. Once there, I would have thought he'd throw off his inhibitions and let Vegas seep into his bones a little. He jokes regularly about wishing he could live the Entourage lifestyle, but we couldn't even get a little Backstreet Boys action happening. After all, he wouldn't pay the $10 admission fee to have his photo taken in a Maserati.

I did find myself yearning for conversation and more lively company, and on more than one occasion found myself flirting openly with other men.

Is it all his fault? No. He is who he is.
Is it all my fault? No. I am who I am.

And in this eharmless failed in epic fashion.

We are in no way romantically compatible. Friends? Sure. But we will never be anything more.

And sure, it is great to have a friend who would give so much money generously, but I found myself craving even basic conversation with someone whom I have more than generic commonalities beyond both of us being humans struggling in this world.

Money can buy a fantastic trip. Money just can't buy compatibility.

Vegas Photo Friday

2009-12-04T08:47:00.015-05:00

You've all cracked me up with your comments on the Gray-Clooney wedding. Thanks for your well wishes. You're all invited to George's Italian villa on Lake Como for Christmas.

I thought Friday would be a fun day to share the rest of the photos with you. If for some reason you're unable to view the photos, let me know. I'm trying out this slideshow presentation, so it could be hit or miss. If you are having trouble, try clicking on the slideshow itself; you should be able to open it in a separate window on the slide.com site.

As for my thoughts about the trip, they're forming. My problem is I don't want to speak unkindly of someone who treated me well. But I do need to get the thoughts out of my head, so they will be tumbling forth this weekend.

Meanwhile....I think it is safe to say, I enjoyed taking photos and even posing for a few (the ones that didn't come out blurry at least).

Love to read your comments, so let me hear it!

Vegas Views

Madame Toussaud's

Me (& Some Waxy Friends)

Me & Chicago

What Happened in Vegas Part I

2009-12-01T08:24:00.006-05:00

I have so much to tell you and no time to tell it.

I confess, I have been holding out on you all.

I got - married - in Vegas!!!!

Is anyone still breathing? My family shouldn't be surprised. After all, I got married before without telling them. This is par for the course.

Being a new wife is just exhausting.

Especially when you're Mrs. George Clooney...

(Damn instant-dress wouldn't latch and damn Chicago wouldn't wait until I grabbed it with my other hand....geesh, I'm wide but I'm not THAT wide! But good thing George loves me anyway!)

More fun to come! Wait for it!

Mrs George Clooney

Happy Thanksgiving

2009-11-26T00:29:00.001-05:00

"I think the tip I would give most people
for a less stressful Thanksgiving is:
Be born in Europe."
- Craig Ferguson

Vegas Baby Vegas

2009-11-25T07:32:00.006-05:00

Well, Chicago and I are meeting up in Vegas. This oughta be interesting, to say the least. Have you ever been someone's birthday present? Is there a handbook for that? I could be sitting on a goldmine here; I better take notes.

(By the way, the trailer for Viva Las Vegas is priceless...click on the movie poster to see...)

I've seen Honeymoon in Vegas, Leaving Las Vegas, What Happens in Vegas, The Hangover, and the Ocean's 11, 12, 13. Somewhere along the way from 1964 to 2009, Las Vegas went from being called Fun Town USA to Sin City to one of the top vacation spots where you take your children!? (Still trying to figure that one out.)

I'm sure none of that will compare with seeing it with my own eyes.

I will tweet, because, well, tweeting is mindless fun and I really like sharing things with my Italian Married and my Carolina Girl.

If I blog...it must mean that I hate it there....and hmmmm the Princess of Sweden is here and threatening to guest blog. Do I dare give her the password? I might come back to find she's MarthaBleepingStewartized my blog.

L'Italia Oggi Vol. I

2009-11-23T23:31:00.022-05:00

I am hopeful that if I start to think about Italy proactively, I will somehow find a way to travel there. Since finding my friend, Molto Bello Italia, I have learned so much already that perhaps it is simply a matter of money before I find myself on Italian ground. Ha, simply. Yes.

So here is Italy Today (L'Italia Oggi) Vol. I.

Lingua
I try to bug my teacher once a day for a new word in Italian. Of course, it is fairly useless without grammar instruction at this point. But even babies start talking with simple words.

duomo
te lo merit
modo minaccioso
buongiorno
baci
geniale
sistemati
in giro
principe azzurro
monella
fuori strada
una ragione per credere
vantaggi
mammoni
fa le fusa

Architettura
And this is the famous Teatro Alla Scala, theater, ballet, and concerts.

Duomo di Milano
The Gothic cathedral took five centuries to complete and is the fourth-largest church in the world. And it has a McDonald's directly across from it............that is so wrong!

Musica
And last but not least, I've found that working class blues music sounds quite lovely with an Italian accent. Take a listen to some original music from Italian musician Daniele Tenca.

Hmmmm harmonica, delicious no? I am so so sad I missed his performance in NYC! (And no, dear readers, this isn't my mysterious MBI, but he is a friend of his.)

You can hear more:
Daniele Tenca
Glory Days at Rimini 2009
Daniele Tenca Facebook

So this concludes L'Italia Oggi Vol. I. Pretty awesome. The only thing that would make it better is if MBI would consider guest-blogging or contributing with me. Then it would be autentico Italian education.

On 2nd Thought...

2009-11-22T21:41:00.008-05:00

So, I'm fairly certain that Edward planted a thought in my head. When I woke up today, it sounded something like this:

You're flying on Wednesday.

*pause for dramatic effect*

You're flying. Unlikely but, you never know, something...could go wrong.

*pause again*

Don't you want to see New Moon just in case...

WHAT!? I KNOW! WTF?

As if there aren't a lot of OTHER things I should be doing "just in case" something goes wrong, when I fly. Like I don't know....wax, shave, get my hair cut....no, those things won't matter if I'm dead. But standing wherever I am in the afterlife, I'm going to be all pissed off that I haven't seen New Moon...?! What?

That is the silliest thing I've EVER heard.

Yup. I snorted at myself.

Here are some more lovely photos from around the lake today.

So, would you like to know what I thought of the movie?

Nah. You wouldn't.

But I can embrace the afterlife now.

*snort*

Non-New-Moon Fever

2009-11-21T01:42:00.015-05:00

(Lest You Think I'm Crazy Disclaimer: The following post is the 3rd in an unplanned series of conversations with a fictional character. The 1st two conversations are here, respectively: Edward and Mortals; Not Breaking Dawn Yet)

"I can't believe you're not out there...."

Wha!? Who?! Where am I? Godpleasedon'ttellmethefeverhasreturned....

"Waiting....in the darkness.
Waiting...in the rain.
Why aren't you waiting....in line....to see me....?"

Edward?

*sigh*

Hello Edward. How nice of you to drop by. How's that...........spawn of yours?

"Oh be nice. Just because I found happiness --"

*snort*

Save it, please. You are a vampire. You're not supposed to find happiness. Especially when most humans can't seem to. Didn't you read Anne Rice?

"So, you're not going to see New Moon because you hated my finding happiness in Breaking Dawn after saving my family's life?"

No Edward, I'm not going to see New Moon -- today. Or tomorrow. Or probably anytime soon. But I will see it.

"Why are you waiting? You loved me once. This movie has some fantastic views of Italy...you'll love that. And....though it disgusts me to say it, you also love those stinky wolves just like Bella."

Ironically, I looked out over the dark blue water of the lake and searched for the swans as if she might be among them, floating around in her clumsy squawky manner. I felt my nose wrinkle as if I might sneeze. Allergic to Bella; anything is possible.

Anything is possible. If I closed my eyes I wondered if I could feel Edward's breath along my neck the way I used to.

There are many reasons Edward.

"I'm listening..."

The actor in the movie doesn't quite capture who you are.

"No actor ever does..."

The thought of being in a packed theater with screaming teenage girls not only makes me want to cut my ears off, but it'll ruin the movie experience for me. I'm very picky about sound.

"So pick an off hour to see it...besides you were a teenage girl once. I can't understand them, but you must...."

More than 20 years ago....

"But it feels like yesterday..."

Yes Edward, sometimes.

"And these books make you feel like you're 17 again...."

Yes, the books. Not so much the movie.

"But you'll go...."

Yes Edward. But I'm really surprised you're here to remind me.

"Why's that?"

This is really Jacob's movie.

I looked up just in time to see Edward's darkened eyes smoldering me to the core.

Ahhhhh yyyyyyyyyes, now that's a nice toasty feeling of need indeed.

For a (somewhat) intelligent opinion about adult women's interest in the Twilight series, read 'Twilight,' the love that dare not speak its shame by Monica Hesse.

For the record, I do not associate with the word feminist. I am many things, but I can't seem to make that word fit as people define it these days into who I am. And I'm not apologetic about it.

I Survived the Flu 2009

2009-11-19T01:58:00.007-05:00

Thanks for all the well wishes. I'm 85% better. I just wish I could breathe. Ha.

My really sad thought this week: Realizing no one needed me.

Sorry, I'm the type of dysfunctional-family survivor who still needs to be needed. I'm not talking about co-dependency, just a little validation.

So, all I can say is that you know you're middle management when your team functions without you, and your manager doesn't feel the need to return your calls when you update her on being sick.

Well....

Sweden deemed to leave a comment on my last post admonishing me for blogging while sick. Woman, you should know by now that I need to document and witness everything and I'll probably document my dying last thoughts. Besides, what did you do with your need-for-balance-Libra-self the last time you were sick for 4 days? Did you clean or what? Yeah, love ya too, bish.

The neighbors needed me -- to clean up the leaves in my yard. 2nd warning. I coughed all over the geezer as I told him I have had a fever for 3 days. That will teach him to mind his own goddamn business.

The dogs needed me -- to let them out and feed them. Actually, Chad and Duncan laid on top of me when I was shivering from fever, which was really sweet in that survival sort of mentality.

Speaking of dogs, I spent a lot of time conversing with Sena, my dead dog, these last fevered days. I remember a lot of tears and wanting to go with her. Hmmm yeah, not even close to the fun of my conversations with Edward.

You all might just want to unfollow me now, I understand.

Hey, I'm just reporting from inside my head. It's strange (but sometimes entertaining) right?

____________

Here's an SNL video that made me laugh this week. Tell me, was it the meds I was on or is it funny?

____________

To celebrate the end of the worst of being sick with the flu, here's a question for you all. (I'm not well enough yet to design a fancy poll, have mercy on me.)

Serious Question
If you could lose 10 lbs (and keep it off) but you had to suffer 3 days (72 hours) of fever and body aches (like every cell in your body is full of toxic burning fumes), would you do it?

10 lbs of weight loss
for
3 days of fever and body aches

Inquiring minds want to know. Do tell.

And Then The Fever Came....

2009-11-16T18:02:00.004-05:00

And then the fever came....

101.7

101.6

Tomorrow??

I'm an FM radio station. Too bad I'm not getting any hits.

Also woke to news that the E Street Band may indeed be drawing their giant train of rock and roll to a close with this tour.

I've been in bed about 22 hours. And I'm heading back there now.

I also have chills so badly I don't know how to stay warm. 7 blankets, electric blanket, 3 layers of clothes I keep sweating in. Lovely. This sucks donkey balls.

Suck It Sickness

2009-11-15T21:17:00.016-05:00

Living alone has so many awesome perks, like well....living alone. I am on no one else's schedule but mine.

But living alone never sucks more than when you're sick. I woke up unable to swallow or breathe, yet somehow coughing is my new best skill. More like, coughing until my head falls off and rolls along the floor.

Chad LOVES to shop, but he has not yet mastered the art of driving to go pick up meds, nor has he obtained the self-control to rake leaves.

But I bet he could bite the neighbors who stood out front of my driveway today and openly discussed the state of my yard. If they're so concerned, why don't they come on over and volunteer their time and energy? Yeah, didn't think so.

Now here's the sign they've posted on every door at work about going in sick....

Chills OR fever
~ and ~
cough OR sore throat

OK, I've got the cough and the sore throat. I don't have chills or fever, but my muscles are definitely sore. So, I guess I could go in according to Ze Zermans policy. Even though I am spitting up vileness from the depths of my lungs that probably carries germs that could make someone else sick. Which is likely how I got this in the first place. Thanks co-workers (and your kids).

Nine days until Vegas....could I please be relocated to the basement? My new space isn't even finished yet anyway. Tell you what, I'll give up my stapler.

Or how about Singles Island? Somewhere germs only exist if people consent to exchanging body fluids.

So today, I did a lot of spacing out....

A Mucinex Extra Strength and Alka Seltzer Chest Congestion cocktail will do that to you. But that tranquil mug is too small for me.

I need to drink tea out of my favorite mug.

Sagittarius:
optimistic, jovial, romantic,
honest, idealism, philosophical

And MBI said to add: Saucy and Dark.

Oh yeah, that's me baby. Especially today. Saucy doesn't even begin to define it.

Excuse me, I have to go hawk up a lung now.

He Just Is

2009-11-15T02:36:00.017-05:00

There are a lot of incredible blogs out there. Have you looked lately? Everyone has something to say. That's wonderful!

I wandered around the interwebs this morning and found a few new blogs to read. Pertaining to dating and losing weight and accepting oneself as one is. And there seemed to be thread randomly through each one: men who like BBW women and/or whether or not those men are closet gay. Also, some large and lovely women were showing their appreciation for their gay male friends (the ones out of the closet), saying every BBW needs a gay friend.

Hmph. I don't have one of those. I even checked my closet.

So, here in surburbia I don't have any gays. (Maybe Kathy Griffin could lend me some.)

I do have a lesbian friend, but in this case, that does not come in handy. Unless perhaps I'm thinking of defecting to the other team entirely. I must admit, I've thought about it, but it just wouldn't feel right much as they feel it just doesn't feel right to be into men.

And coincidentally, on Grey's Anatomy this week, there was also a brief mention of the terms "work husband / wife." I know a few people who have them or a sports husband / wife.

Hmph. I don't have one of those either.

But as I went on with my day, which included trying to squirrel away a little play money for Vegas by playing a lovely game of Russian roulette with my bills, I realized I do have someone unique and special in my life.

I have an Italian Married.

(Apologies to Helen Fielding as I believe she first coined the phrase Marrieds in Bridget Jones' Diary.)

Mr Molto Bello Italia, here's to you. Somehow I don't think you're a closet gay, but talk about a supportive alternative opinion. He has such a different outlook on everything that it seems as if I can look at something with new eyes just by discussing it with him. And as you know, I even had a meltdown in the middle of the week. Not only did he keep talking to me, he really worked hard to give me a hand up out of the muddy darkness.

In Shakespeare's time, a muse was a required yet often lamented element in the creative process. Music, art, language, laughter, tears, truths and dreams...those are the pieces. My new muse; he is the glue for the puzzle pieces.

Don't get me wrong, my bestie Sweden is irreplaceable in her strong bitchy opinionated own way. I love her, there's no one else like her. And all my other girl friends, each unique and special in their own way. A male friend just offers a different perspective.

I can't say another woman has ever made me feel so good about life that I wanted to go out and buy flowers for the world.

So, I'll survive without gays or a work husband or a Red Sox husband.

I'll keep my Italian Married.

He rocks.

By the way, if you've missed the last few posts, you've missed a meltdown and a rebuild.

Good Friend Friday

2009-11-13T00:53:00.017-05:00

Dedicated to my good friends.
You're there for me every day, no matter what.
I love you for that.

A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart
and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words.

What is your definition of a good friend?

What adjectives come to mind?

What do they do that makes them so valuable?

Are they similar to you or complimentary angles?

Have you been one lately?

What is your definition of a good friend?

Sensitive Is a 4-Letter Word

2009-11-13T00:02:00.011-05:00

All my life, I've been told:
"You're too sensitive."

Family, friends, lovers, they've all offered or confirmed this observation at one point or another.

It is really one of the most unhelpful observations I've ever heard. What would people like me to do with that knowledge? As if I'm hearing it for the first time at age 40.

A few times I have responded, "And you're not sensitive enough." Usually I say this when I'm prepared not to talk to the person anymore.

I'm sure some of these "You're too sensitive" statements were said to cover the person's own LACK of sensitivity, but others have been genuinely concerned.

My mother's advice to me when I was young:
"You're too sensitive. You better toughen up, life is going to roll right over you."

That seems to have been rather prophetic Mom. Any other future events you're aware of? I love how her advice to her third daughter didn't include any specific ways to actually BE less sensitive.

Do you know why?

Because it can't be changed!!

I readily admit I am too sensitive. Wholeheartedly agree and wish that I wasn't.

You'd think after all I'd experienced, I would have indeed "toughened up," "grown thicker skin," or somehow changed. I read about how to harness your personal power. I've taken classes on projecting authority, and separating emotions from the workplace.

Well, guess what? I am too sensitive. The barometric pressure reading is off.

I'd like to be returned to the factory, please. There's some DNA missing perhaps. Because I don't know HOW to be any other way. And the way I am causes me more pain and suffering in situations that wouldn't phase others at all. They wouldn't even blink while I'm blinking back tears instead.

So the next time someone tells me I'm being overly sensitive, I sure hope they have the remedy and they're ready to spit it out of their smug-faced mouth.

My sensitivity is partly what makes me such a good friend.

Always there. Whatever you need. And genuinely happy to help.

But I don't wish anyone to walk a day in my personality.

And I wouldn't want to walk a day in yours.

And then the Darkness Came

2009-11-12T01:06:00.010-05:00

CAUTION: Written under the influence of carbohydrates and the first really bad day of T.o.M.

You know how there's a man code and man law? Well, I'm pretty sure there's woman code and woman law. Why am I telling you this? Because I'm about to break it. Sue me.

We can't stand it when a guy says to us, "You're awfully bitchy today, have you got your period?"

Yet, we're the first to complain to our besties "Beware: I'm in total bitch mode. T.o.M. is kicking my ass and I could tear the head of every man who crosses my path."

We can't handle a guy bringing up what we eat or how we eat or when we eat.

Yet, we're constantly telling each other what we've consumed or haven't consumed and how we feel about it.

Heaven forbid a guy makes a comment about something we're wearing.

If it was an insult, we'll never forgive him for being honest. If it was a compliment, we'll deconstruct it until it resembles an insult.

No wonder they don't want to get involved with us.

But on another note...

It has been a long time since I felt the darkness. I kept it at bay with a lot of Springsteen concerts, and letting work consume me, and living in a fantasy world that there might be some chance I could afford to travel in 2010 or possibly move to a new rental.

I've been in denial. I thought it wouldn't matter.

It wouldn't matter than I'm not getting ANY interested guys from eharmless or OKstupid.

It wouldn't matter that I couldn't exercise because of my knee.

It wouldn't matter that I tried to be normal, eat carbs, and keep Weight Watcher points.

It wouldn't matter that my clothes are starting to feel too tight again.

But it matters. In every way it matters. What am I doing....with my life....?

When the darkness came today, it was all-consuming and sudden and stole the oxygen from my veins as if death had arrived. Darkness came. Not just to the edge of town, not just to the edge of the my thoughts, but encompassed me like a sweeping plague, sinking into my bones, and eating away at my every last thought. Point blank, shot between the eyes. All the pretty lies that get told.

I'm so incredibly unhappy. I loathe myself on days like today. Fear and loathing in New Jersey. Loathing without the therapy of friends or professionals.

I can't be unhappy. It's up to me. If I don't want to be, I can find a way not to be.

In 2 weeks, I'll be in Vegas celebrating Chicago's birthday.

In 4 weeks, I'll be in Connecticut celebrating my birthday.

How can I make the darkness go away? I mean, it always lives inside of me, but not so close to the surface. How can I make it slip back down to the depths?

Where can I find happiness that lasts longer than a Springsteen concert?

Higher & Higher

2009-11-08T21:31:00.010-05:00

Chained to this earth we go on and on and on
Then a million suns cresting where you stood
A beauty in the neighborhood
This lonely planet never looked so good

This life, this life and then the next
With you I have been blessed, what more can you expect
This life, this life and then the next
This Life, Bruce Springsteen

I am so blessed to have experienced a once-in-a-lifetime concert on Sunday night. I've tried to write down how it made me feel, and I've pretty much failed to accurately convey to my contentment. I was hoping the writer in me would pull through the wall of emotions cascading down on me like a waterfall.

Imaginary voice in my head, tries to draw out the muse...."But this was like your gazillionth Springsteen concert. How could it possibly be better or different or whatever...."

Well, there are some facts that make it different.

The music played on Saturday night was music not usually played. Music off his 2nd album, made in the 70s, at a time when music was going thorough an incredible metamorphism. It was before his "big" break with Born to Run. Many consider The Wild, the Innocent, & The E Street Shuffle to be more of a collection of musician's music. Something old-time fans really embrace, and not because we're old! There's storytelling in the older songs that just tumble out like poetry. But there's music, jamming, soul-searching, boot-quaking music as well. There's horns and strings and many many things that are often no longer part of a song that makes it on the airwaves these days.

The closest I can describe to how hearing those songs played live made me feel is to say that "It feels like being in love." Heart-racing, adrenaline-pumping, light-headed, floating, surreal, dreamy, perma-grin, alive feeling that stays with you long after you've left the object of your affection.

I have confirmation that I am not the only one who has ever felt this way. What a great feeling to share, across the oceans, across a world full of terrible events and disappointments; we all know what it feels like to have felt love, in its many unique forms.

I'd like to leave with this snippet of inspiration and wish you all some love today. The ever uplifting, soulful Higher & Higher, brought - dare I say - to new heights Saturday night, with a great guest appearance by Elvis Costello. I swear if your toe does not start tapping, check your pulse.

Snap Happy

2009-11-08T20:34:00.018-05:00

It is delightfully wonderful to have a camera again. I get really snap happy. You should see the amount of photos I take that don't end up anywhere. I'm telling you, I've got issues.

So without further delay, here are some (IMO) lovely photos I've snapped over the last few days, with the Blackberry Bold (or as I like to call it my CrackBerry Cold).

NOTE: You'll get a much larger view if you right-click on the photo and open in a new window.

Me & my favorite wolf image, peering out from behind the tree.

My new friend, Ruby, the Cherry Orchid.

Very calm morning on the lake.

I love when the water is so blue it reminds me of the ocean.

As much as we dislike clouds, they know how to rock a sunset.

Free Fallin

2009-11-04T23:35:00.010-05:00

Ugh, the Yankers have won the World Series. Everyone from my coworkers to my massage therapist have texted me in their celebratory snobby victory dance across technology.

And in the rest of my life, I have no direction....I feel like I'm in a free fall. Please don't start singing Tom Petty to me. I love the song, but all I can think of is Tom Cruise from Jerry Maguire.

I am also office space homeless. But at least I have a stapler in my displacement and they're still paying me. It may be another week or longer; they said it wouldn't take more than 7 days.

People are dropping like flies with all sorts of ailments at work. Some are definitely sick because of the dust and dirt and the new carpet of the environment. I'm trying to get my rest in advance, but somehow I feel fatalistic: it is just a matter of time.

A beautiful beautiful Saturday night MSG Springsteen ticket has found its way into my possession. I will be at Clarence's side stage. I will watch them play an incredible album from the late 70s. I will get to hear Incident On 57th Street and Sandy and NYC Serenade, long jamming songs that highlight the band in amazing ways, then intertwines with Springsteen's lyrics like winding ivy up along a trestle.

No Fly Zone sent me a text message, "Haven't heard from you. Let me know when you want to get together." I counted...this is the 10th week since that dreadfully comedic 1st date. I haven't ever communicated with him from that day onward. Um dude....desperate much? Oh yes wait, you've never left the state of New Jersey, so I guess the answer is yes.

FutureSex sent me an email, asking me to talk sexy to him. Eh. I'm too tired. If it feels forced, then it isn't right. In comparison, talking to my dear Molto Bello Italia is so delightfully easy and comfortable, like we'd been friends for years. FutureSex makes no effort to get together with me this weekend, even though I'm already booked for Bruce, he doesn't know that. I inquired what he was doing with his weekend and got no response. Welllllll, contact me when you're 1. less busy and 2. looking for more than just some sexy words in an email. Filed under: Chemistry ignition stalled.

Sweden had a dream about me. I was 175 lbs and trying on red and black dresses for a wedding, and she recalls saying "The red one, or I'll come down and smack you." Yes, that sounds about right.

Me, 175 lbs. Hahahaa. I don't know how it is going to happen.

Very warm thanks to Dating 2.0 for introducing this clueless one to the networking possibilities that is MeetUp!

And yes, I do love my new crackleberrypop Bold. I love it so much that I don't want to touch the track ball. I might have issues.

Blog Post Schizophrenia

2009-11-02T00:58:00.003-05:00

I'm having blog post schizophrenia; several topics that have nothing to do with each other except that they're all inside my head. So here goes the brain dump.

Birthday
Vegas
Phone
Dating/Socializing

Birthday
Someone asked me what I wanted for my birthday.

How about to be 30 again? No? Some things money can't buy.

OK, how about a trip to Milan for one week. $1,000. Maybe? If I work really hard at saving and the car doesn't need repairs that rape me.

How about a few hypnosis sessions to convince my subconscious mind that when I feel lonely, I don't need to eat? $500.

A corset that helps me lose weight? Does such a thing exist? yes! $100.

I think it is a shame that things cost so much money. Because when I want them, I have to shove away that pang of guilt for wanting things that seem to encapsulate material possessions and wealth.

What do I really want for my birthday? To be surrounded by laughter and people who really care about me. It isn't that easy. Like I said, some things money can't buy.

Vegas
Yes, I am going to Vegas. In 24 days. I will get on a plane on the infamously "worst travel day of the year" in the United States, the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. And I cannot wait! One of the spectacles I'm looking forward to seeing are the Bellagio Musical Fountains. Here are two beautiful videos, if you're curious.

I really want to stay healthy these next three weeks, so I'll be wearing a mask to work. You people think I'm joking. OK I am joking, but only because I don't think a mask would help a bit. If it did, I'd be Michael Jacksoning it for the entire winter and I'm not even germaphobic. But, in all seriousness, they've posted warnings on all the doors to the company building. Without a camera on my phone (I'll get to that update in a second), I can't accurately capture the warning, but it is written something like this:

Do not enter this building if
you have a cough, and / or a fever.
Turn around and go home.

Yikes. Ze Zermans are not kidding, huh? They may make a test for the swine flu, but they don't want anyone getting it. Solid effort. And I love it when the contractors say "Well I don't get paid for sick days." Well, tough shit. I don't get paid to catch your post nasal drip.

Phone
So, yes, about my phone....my darling phone, remember? FINALLY! FINALLY! FINALLY! A fully functional crackberry is scheduled to be in my hands by Wednesday at the latest, one that is G3 networked, with a darling little camera and video capability. As soon as the clock struck October 31st, I went trick or treating at AT&T Wireless. And, unfortunately, I'm still rather anti-AT&T after all my loyal years, because the best they could offer me was a $300 upfront upgrade ($100 mail-in rebate which I don't trust) for a Blackberry Bold. I could have gotten the exact same model crackberry I have now for $150. Are they kidding? One year later and that model is obsolete. AT&T did tempt me with a $100 iphone, but it was the first model iphone ever made. Um thanks but no. I'm not a fan of touchscreens anyway.

However, I'm pleased to say that my new friends over at Wirefly were perfectly thrilled to sell me the same $300 newer model phone for $79. Come to mama, my sexy baby Bold Blackberry. Coochee coochee coo. OMG, I'm drooling over a material object.

Dating/Socializing
The solitary life is beginning to grow moss upon me like a winter coat. If it weren't for email and text messaging, I wouldn't have communicated with anyone all weekend. I'm OK with that.

(Really. I hate to talk on the phone. Ironically, see above, I'm drooling over a new phone. But only because it is practically a computer.)

I'm not giving up or anything like that. I'm just tired of trying so hard. Just want to let things be. Be how they are. How the world intends it to be.

So, now is as good a time as any to ask: Why did I renew at eHarmless for 3 more months? I don't know, why is the sky blue? (WITSB) I don't know.

Because I'm trying not to give up on myself. You know, no retreat, baby, no surrender.

Another WITSB question: why do I need to use a dating site?

Because society has turned so far inward (perhaps not in a city so much but out here in the burbs) that there really aren't too many options for meeting.

My friend over at Dating 2.0 gave a great list of ways to get yourself out there.

Upon analyzing my interests, I've concluded I'm a boring geek.

I adore Springsteen and Red Sox.
I love to read but not on a deadline (sounds a little too much like my work). I've got 10 books waiting to be read.
I have 2 dogs.
I belong to a (dying) 24/7 gym.

I belong to a local NJ Red Sox community. Married men and their wives. The group leader was going to talk to the one token single guy, but then our season fell apart.

I belong to the NJ Springsteen community as much as I can, but there are crazies (like obsessed freaks), and there are snobs and I'm somewhere in between. I don't want to peel his clothes off, and I don't want to have a discussion of rock and roll. In my admiration of Springsteen in the past 20 years, I find most male single US Springsteen fans drink too much (I think 8+ beers at one concert is too much, call me crazy) and they want a thin girl. They're basing their ideal woman on someone I'm not. I'm the writer inspired by Springsteen (like Melissa Etheridge was), not the pretty girl he writes about in most of his songs. Except for Thunder Road maybe. I'm the "you ain't a beauty but hey you're alright." Now I've just got to find someone who thinks, "And that's all right with me."

But I have dogs...yes. Surely that will fetch me a guy. Not quite. Chad the soon-to-be 5-year-old has a fear aggression with other dogs that usually takes a day or two to work out of his sensors that not every dog will eat him. So we can walk but not at a dog park. Believe me, anytime he gets attention at the pet supply store, I try to soak it up. Unfortunately the one intelligent guy who works there smokes (not so smart) and has a girlfriend.

The gym has been full of .......3 types of people: muscleheads, ethnically-closed-minded, self-segregating, and non-English-speaking.

I've looked for a movie club. There isn't one. I could start one. How? With a Craigslist ad? I'll get the creeps. Or I'll attract them.

I've looked for a social club. Somehow I don't think the Knights of Columbus hall counts.

I'm-a-Let-you-Finish-But...

2009-10-31T00:45:00.001-04:00

Kanye West & Taylor Swift
wishing you
Happy Halloween!

I got a few "Are you Anna Nicole Smith?" questions out of the wig and red lipstick. Funny. Wish I had a party to go to tomorrow, but I'm not repeating last year's radio station party nightmare. Maybe I should just take the wig to a bar. What do you think? Too bad it itches after an hour.

Boondock Saints II is open...anyone from Boston has to go see it. Mandatory. But it is only in limited release. Next weekend maybe.

Oh and I made it to the end of October! Damnnnnn. I survived with a cameraless, letter J- and letter K-less Blackberry. Tomorrow I get to see what AT&T has been hiding on me: the costs for the upgrades they've been teasing me with. Yes, I'm eligible for an iphone. No, I don't think I'll be getting one.

No, I haven't heard from FutureSex except to learn he had to do halloween with his child. So it must have been future future FutureSex on his mind when he met me. Whatevs.

Here comes November. Here comes Vegas. Vegas baby Vegas. 25 days and counting.

And some of you have asked to hear more about my marriage....I'm mulling that over. Got to leave something for the books, but I wouldn't mind telling some things people would like to hear. Feel free to leave questions or suggestions.

And yes, you've all asked about my darling Italian friend, Mr MBI. He's quite well, and I am still enjoying his twitter presence immensely. Learning Italian and teaching English word by word, laughing every day, and sharing appreciation for all things Springsteen. Cue up James Taylor, because I've got a new friend.

And no, I'm not going to share too much of him because I'm a selfish Sagittarian soon turning an ungodly age and hoarding all the attention I can possibly accumulate like a bear about to hibernate for winter. I especially enjoy his singing voice.

You've all (well, me mostly, but you partly) already embarrassed him. You, yes you, (well, me, really me) you've made an Italian man blush. I didn't think it was possible either. So I'm afraid, there will be no monthly "Ask Molto Bello Italia" posts.

What can I say? I know we're hungry American women! How about some Sopressata?

Little Things in a Big World

2009-10-25T02:05:00.010-04:00

On Friday night, I had a bucket list moment.

I've said it before. I'll say it again. There are some really good reasons to stick out the loneliness and keep living in Jersey.

I went and stood in line at a Borders bookstore to shake Clarence Clemons' hand and get his signature on a book he co-penned. He's a very important member of the E Street Band; he's Springsteen's saxophone player.

And he's more than that. To me. He's part of a unique elixir I've tried to describe before that somehow gets my mother dancing at concerts for the last 6 years or so.

There's nothing quite like a beautiful sax solo to get your feet tapping or to bring out that extra heart-wrenching emotional twist in a song.

And I had about 60 seconds to tell him, something, anything.

I leaned over the table so he would be sure to hear me, and I got his attention while he was signing the book. It probably didn't hurt that I had the girls in a push-up bra right in his line of vision, I'm no dummy.

I said: "My mother is in her 70s and it is because of your saxophone playing that she still dances."

His smile was so genuine, I saw it reach his eyes.

He shook my hand and there was a really warm energy there. He said, "Well you tell her to keep on dancing. Because I've had 3 hip replacements and 2 knee replacements and I'm still up there so she can keep on dancing."

I thanked the co-writer Don as he signed his name, and then somehow I made it a few steps away from the table. My eyes were just brimming I could not see clearly, and I quickly found an out of the way spot in an aisle of the bookstore. The tears just streamed down my cheeks. Happy tears. Sad tears. All at once.

I have some very special memories with my Mom at some incredible Springsteen concerts. Winning tickets on the radio. Driving several hours just to pick her up and take her to Boston. Being given tickets another time to a VIP section with an amazing buffet that she still talks about as if she'd never eaten food like that before. Watching her dance and listening to how she thinks of Bruce as a son. Those are the happy tears.

She will probably not attend another show now; she has said so herself. Those are the sad tears.

I got Mom on the phone as soon as I could, and I told her that Clarence Clemons has a message for her. And I could hear the change in her voice, for just a moment. She had some surprise, and I heard some happiness shine through the misery and the pain she normally wears like a cloak while her various ailments eat her body alive.

I tell her not to give up but she tells me she's so tired of fighting her body. She mentions my birthday coming up, and says she can only think one day at a time.

She says she wants to read the book. I warn her there's swearing. She doesn't care. I said I'll get it to her as soon as possible. I tell her I love her and hang up the call.

Just another memory filed away in the ~~brain~~ heart.

It's the little things that matter.

I am just so shocked here, but deliriously thrilled.

Blame It on Estrogen

2009-10-22T02:05:00.003-04:00

"A crush cannot endure
the passing of time;
while a friendship
can withstand
the trial
of all seasons."

There's been such a constant spin at work (absolute chaos as they redesign the department space for a week) that I haven't had a minute to write. Which really wouldn't matter because I've not been to the gym and I've not paid attention to the scale (which would potentially mean I'm not obsessed).

The Sagittarian in me wants to run away so badly. And literally. Just take a month's worth of salary, skip town on all the bills, and just keep running.

Aren't you glad I didn't do that? Yet anyway.

However, for a few days now I've had a post written in my head. And now I'm just hoping I can get it out from rattling around up there keeping me from a semblance of sanity. This is another Samantha Jones-type of post so, if you don't want to talk s-e-x, give yourself up to the authorities now, you're anti-human.

Remember on October 8 when I said about my flittering with Mr Molto Bello Italia (MBI), "I figure as long as we keep our passion to Bruce, we're in a safe zone..."

(Yes.)

Remember that lousy movie Blame it on Rio?

(No. Maybe.)

It isn't important. But I'm going to call my little episodic adventure Blame It on Estrogen. Movie to come soon. Wait for it.

What in the hell am I talking about?

Well, try as hard as I could to walk the straight and narrow and keep to the safe side of conversation with a warm, friendly, taken man, I epically failed, and I have the wicked hardest crush on MBI.

Yeah. I'm talking swoon-worthy, butterfly-swirly, ooh-ooh I've got a crush on you please sing some more Bruce Springsteen for me. I tried! I just couldn't help myself, I have no willpower to resist the charming musicians in life! We have so many great commonalities, and a shared sense of humor that transcends language barriers. He's quite possibly the only Springsteen fan my age that I know who loves Bruce more than I do.

Most men can't figure out when a woman is crushing on them, so I don't know what he's thinking. Quite possibly I may have achieved an international stereotype status: Sex-crazed American woman. I have spent my entire life avoiding fitting into types, but I think I've pretty much fallen into one by sheer default. I mean, they don't write songs like "American woman, stay away from me...." without good cause.

I have shared many emotional thoughts with my new friend, including my thoughts about the wedding and my marriage that I shared here with you and got such amazing feedback on (thank you).

Sooooo....on Monday he left me a twitter message that simply said, "I've found you."

My 1st thought: Awww and I've found you (in the universal zen sense).

My 2nd thought one second later: OH....GOD HE.... GOOGLED.... ME. *sucking in for air*

Yes, he's read the blog. And...right now I am glad he found it.

But at the time, when he first mentioned it, in a matter of seconds this "tremendously sexy" American female was instinctively seeking a virtual rock to crawl under. There is no fiction or poetry posted here, just my darkest thoughts.

Unreasonable and unexpected tears streamed down my cheeks even though he didn't say anything bad and had no idea of the effect.

I just sat in front of the computer and tried to recover from my ridiculous freakout party, thrown no doubt by my hormones on overdrive. I'd like to stop being an 18 year old boy please.

My little bubble crush felt like it had burst, and I was standing there in tomato sauce.

He said that my blog "reads like Bridget Jones....." and that I was "obsessed with weight." He was kind about it, not cruel.

At first I said no, I'm just being healthy, but the truth is who am I kidding? I am obsessed, with many things. Weight is one of them. Trying not to be, but I am. It holds the key to my inner happiness.

Even my new friend remarked how sometimes my eyes seem sad. And I know what's missing there. If I can just accomplish some things, like the weight and the book and someone to laugh with and hold me again, I would feel so much better. Ah well, working on a dream.

Anyway, so we have a man around the blog here. He said he would keep reading, so I said I would keep writing. How did the real Carrie Bradshaw's (Candace Bushnell's) friends handle being written about in her real life column?

Well, here's where I want to give a shout out to my new friend; you can say hi to him too:

Ciao Mr Molto Bello Italia! Ciao!

What really really really matters to me, Mr Gypsy Eyes, is that you're someone who brightens my life. Beneath all that crushy stuff I feel, you're REAL.

You're my kind of people. You're my kind of Springsteen fan. You're my kind of friend. Which is rare and high quality.

I don't make friends easily. And I don't want to give that friendship away just because I have not had sex in almost a year. I may be crazy, but I'm not that crazy.

*cringe* Writing it makes it true!?

Anyone want to rent me a date for my birthday? Anyone? Anyone?

Happily Ever After Reflections

2009-10-18T17:25:00.010-04:00

My cousin's wedding was nice. I'm not going to trash it in a jaded bitter way; I wish them the best.

Although the official who married them must have been a retired auctioneer, everything was very nicely done. It wasn't too extravagant. The meal was delicious. And the bar was open. As long as you didn't get a mixed drink, you could actually taste the alcohol. I stuck with vodka on the rocks. No wine headache for me thank you.

Among my cousins, I am the only divorced woman without children, under 40. There is one other, who is over 40. There were no viable guys to even think to flirt with, and only one good-looking bartender. Despite my open plea for wedding crashers to show up, the only unwanted guest was my T.o.M. arriving promptly at the conclusion of the evening. Must have been all the shimming I did on the dance floor to the B52's Love Shack and The BlackEyed Peas I've Got a Feeling.

My Mom, who has been battling a cold in addition to the recent hospital ~~kick in the ass~~ stay, got out on the dance floor and did a polka dance with one of my uncles. That was a memory made right there. Of course, the DJ didn't have any Springsteen so there was no Waiting on a Sunny Day.

If photos surface that don't have me looking like a black trash bag ready for the curb, I'll share them. I am still two weeks out without a camera (Hello Blackberry renewal November). Although I didn't get many compliments (a lot of "nice-to-see-yous" which is fine because I didn't blow smoke up anyone's ass either), no one asked the dreaded "How's your love life" or "where's your date" singleton questions which rocked. One aunt asked about L, because she knew I moved to Jersey for him, and she was appropriately horrified when I told her he had married someone.

I did catch several men staring at my breastages which I found incredibly odd. It is not like my girls are anything like they used to be in their former glory before losing 9 inches with the weight. But apparently, these guys, some of my uncles even, haven't seen cleavage recently. When they would talk to me, their eyes kept drifting down there. I always heard women complaining of this phenomena, but now I've experienced it myself. I was amused and alarmed at the same time.

I was reflective about marriage. It would have been 19 years this month for me. How different life would be right now.

I always wanted a big wedding. By always, I mean, before I got married. So, before I turned 20, I had always thought I wanted a big wedding. Not that there was anyone to pay for it, but just in pure romantic theory.

I was in love with being in love, and I chased it like a storm chaser chases tornadoes; with very little regard for my own (emotional) life while in the presence of something larger and perceived in my mind to be from nature. I saw what my sisters had found, and I saw what my mother didn't have, and I swooned at the rock stars and movies. I wasn't going to be that Sally in 1989's When Harry Met Sally. I wasn't going to be crying to my best friend, "But I'm going to be 40....*sob* some....day..." while still single.

Here's the clip, minute 2:16 into it....

Little did I know at the time that I had removed the big wedding option for myself when I basically thumbed my nose at the entire tradition and got married on the spur of the moment while overseas on a field study leave from college without anyone's knowledge.

One has to understand the mindset of my 20-year old self at the time to fully grasp why the events took place as they did. I was impressionable yes, but I was also very aware of outside influences affecting my decisions. I would say no single factor carried more weight than the others, but combined they were the ultimate megacatalysism for my decision.

1. I had interviewed a former teacher living with PTSD and won recognition for a poem I'd written about him. His haunting tales and day-to-day struggles were very present in my psyche.

2. I had just completed a year studying under Michael Klare, Professor of Peace and World Security Studies, and I was incredibly hyper-aware how the world had screwed up so many lives during all previous wars. I was emotionally knee deep in the hawks and the doves of the Vietnam War via countless books and movies for my 3rd year's social studies term paper.

3. I began my trip overseas on August 2, 1990, the day Iraq invaded Kuwait. I'll never forget this because it was all anyone discussed on the plane. War with the United States was pending and the Iraqi ex-pats on the plane were hopeful for the end of Saddam Hussein's reign.

4. My newfound love had been avoiding his country's mandatory military obligation, extending his university education another semester, for several semesters already. But he could no longer do that if his country joined the US-led coalition against Iraq's invasion of Kuwait. And they would surely join, being the most steadfast ally the US has ever had in the region.

5. I fell hard for my husband. And he for me. There was love in abundance, to the point where I could have drowned in it. He wrote me poetry, struggling to find the words in English. He told me I was the marrow inside a man's bones; something life-sustaining, life-changing. And I wasn't about to lose someone who valued me that much to a "stupid war for oil."

1 + 2 + 3 + 4 + 5 = enough reasons why I wasn't thinking that my mother might feel betrayed in old world Polish/Italian fashion that her youngest daughter got married without family present, or why I wasn't thinking how nice it would be to have a big wedding, get lots of gifts for a home we didn't have, and go on a honeymoon before living happily ever after.

I'd already had 6 weeks in paradise with him. I was simply innocently aiming to live happily in the near future in a war-free zone or in the world's war-defending nation at least.

So in hindsight I gave up that big wedding idea without a second thought or a first thought even. This was my lifetime love. It came so early but I was so sure of it. At age 20. I knew nothing of immigration except that if we were married, he could come to the states and live with me until I finished school. Why delay what we thought in love's terms would be inevitable anyway? He didn't try to push me to think this way at all; I think he was too shocked in love. It was all me. I convinced him getting married was the only way to assure we'd ever see each other again in pure dramatic style, to live a life of love together. I wouldn't lose him to the army. I wouldn't lose him to a war.

And that came true. I didn't lose him to the army or the Gulf War.

A lifetime love can still be lost. I lost him to the war of insecurities that we (men and women) all carry within ourselves that some of us allow to get in the way and destroy our relations with others.

Condiments Could Kill

2009-10-15T00:01:00.002-04:00

This is a PSA folks...

(Pssst, I don't think this qualifies as a TMI post for LiLu, who is a really kickass fun former-Masshole blogger. I just can't match those gross-out levels she and her pals achieve! I'm not worthy! But if you enjoy some grossed out things, check out her TMI Thursday posts. You will laugh and be horrified.)

At 3 AM on Wednesday morning, I had a Jimi Hendrix experience. Sadly, I'm not talking about a drug-induced trippy fun hallucination. I'm talking about puking in my sleep, on my back, and thinking I was going to die by method of choking.

Putting aside the fact that I haven't thrown up in.....YEARS....I've come close but not actual....

This was the most frightening experience I've had in a while.

And then I proceeded to hurl for several hours. To the point where my throat burned like the worst hot sauce in the world had been poured down it for days. And then the rest of my body decided to participate in the festivities until I didn't know which part of my body to put on the toilet. I was half-anticipating blood to start coming out my eyes.

Oh yeah, fun times.

So there I am thinking.....WTF, am I going to die of swine flu two days before my cousin's wedding?

Took my temperature. Normal. Normal. Normal.

How is that possible? I just emptied my entire body of all fluids imaginable.

But no, no fever. And no fever, means no infection, thus no swine flu.

So I laid there in bed as no less than 5 different people tried to communicate with me via 5 different media methods. Crackberry in one hand, laptop on the pillow, I tried to just be motionless as much as possible for as long as possible. And oh I do so <3 technology because my Flittering Mr Italia can virtually send me cups of cammy tea with honey, as I wondered what in the hell was wrong with me in all my pasty dry mouth knotty snotty glory.

Was it that I just hated work so much that I made myself sick? Possibly, but spontaneous puking out of a dead sleep did not seem to be my brand of neurotic-based acts.

It wasn't until later when I boldly ventured into the kitchen for a cup of weak tea that I even thought about what I'd eaten. Everything I ate, I'd cooked myself. For days.

I happened to see the jar of minced garlic.

The mega huge 32-ounce jar of minced garlic.

The mega huge 32-ounce jar of minced garlic that I've had for.....ever. Years? Hmmm.

I love garlic, I've used 3/4th of that jar I'm proud to say.

And yes, I have had garlic for the past 3 days as a garnish in my plain yogurt as a sauce for my chicken. And yes, it has been some time since I used it before this week, and I had always sauteed it into things, not used it raw.

I glanced closer at the jar. Expiration date: April.

Check your condiments people. Do it today.

You'll thank me. Trust.

Eh, Not Much

2009-10-12T08:05:00.004-04:00

Thought of the weekend: Why can't every night be a Springsteen concert?

*sigh*

Baseball season is over. I don't want to talk about it. Two of my favorite players are likely retiring. I don't want to talk about it. Our closer is most likely getting his ass kicked by every other player on the team and sent to the bowels of hell in a trade next year. I don't want to talk about it.

___________

FutureSex canceled. Work. I asked about a later meeting time, he said he had dinner plans. So, he only intended to hang with me from 1:30 to .... before his dinner plans. OK. Well, like I had said a week ago, he might just be someone I'm interested in for the fun stuff.

Getting on quite well with my Italian friend. Flittering, as I've been educated, is the better term for flirting via twitter. It is a lovely distraction from the solitude, but it cannot replace a good face to face conversation. And then Mr Molto Bello Italy started talking about a last minute trip to see Springsteen in NY in November. I held my breath, until he determined he couldn't swing the expense.

___________

Mom is at home, on the mend, at least as of yesterday. It changes every day. She's got a serious cold which at first concerned us to determine if it was swine flu or not, but without a significant fever it apparently is not. Unfortunately, too bad there isn't a med she can take for her biting nasty attitude. Well there is, but she won't take them.

___________

So, I'm down 5 lbs since last Sunday. Yes, 5 lbs. How interesting. By eating more. Very funny stuff. I will follow the same foods I had last week and see what happens. Of course, cousin's wedding is this Friday.

Speaking of which, so I have these new shoes....and I have to wear them to the wedding.....

So, in an effort to get used to them, I wore them...while washing dishes at the sink. Perfect right? Sweatpants, sweatshirt, and these tiny shoes.

I had music on and so I was just trying to sway, not actually dance, just sway a bit to the music. I can tell you after about 20 minutes, I thought the circulation to my big toe was going to be cut off completely for life.

*sigh*

Oh and opinions please.....

What is the point of pantyhose? Nylons? Or whatever you want to call them. Seriously, this isn't the age of MadMen anymore (which freaking rocks as a show).

I don't think I'm going to wear them, and I'm just putting that out there. Will I bring scandal to my table at the wedding? One can certainly hope!

Was it wrong to tell my friends to crash the reception?

Oh I crack myself up.

Unusual Week

2009-10-08T15:21:00.005-04:00

It has been a really unusual week. It just FEELS off, you know that feeling? Maybe I'm in some altered horror-wonderland or something, some bad things, some good things, some really odd things. I've got so many scattered thoughts and topics, I'm just going to brain dump here and you can read if you want or not.

Many many thanks by the way, to all of the helpful dog-related information people have shared. Yes, I've gone the extensive route of food allergies. That is not it, although I have kept her on a very expensive potato and duck diet. I am really quite certain it is an internal mite. Ew yucko.

_________

So, Mom's scope test results on Monday were normal. Then they told her they were going to do some intestinal tests, on Tuesday (I think). I have lost track of the days and honestly don't know how my sisters keep track.

After about 6 hours of testing on Tuesday (I think that's what my sister said), they returned my Mom to her room and had a nurse announce, "OK, we're sending you home." Right then. Pronto Tonto.

What? Why?

Well, guess what folks?

On hospital Day 8, without conclusive findings of what exactly is wrong, medicare stops paying. And the staff that took such incredible care of her for an entire week couldn't usher her out the door soon enough. Just. Like. That.

They did everything except physically kick my mother in the ass out the door. Allegedly even the doctor's assistant informed my mother that they could "call her a cab" if need be. And, the wait for a wheelchair ride to the lobby would "be awhile," as other patients were discharging.

I guess that's what you call a Medicare Dump Day. I bet it happens every day at hospitals all across the country. Don't think we need some type of reform? I hope to hell you don't ever have a family member who needs care.

Of course, in theory, after 8 days, if you can't determine what IS wrong, perhaps it is best that the patient goes home. Hell, she could get more rest at home. But how about a little kindness people? Is a little kindness too much to ask for a 70something woman who spent her life taking care of medically ill children discarded by their parents and mentally handicapped adults who were wards of the state? Forget that even, how about a little kindness just for another human being?

_________

Returning to work was brutal. Absolutely horrible. Spent 8 hours on Monday going through my email. No exaggeration. Culled what I could and the final tally of work to be done by Friday: 36 jobs. Jobs that I have to do, not delegate to anyone else. All me. 5 of those jobs were jobs that SAT for two weeks, because people didn't find someone else to sign off on their review in my absence, which is totally their responsibility. So their fail became my added work. Well, those 5 got dropped to the bottom of the pile. They can bloody wait. They'll get them on Monday. My eyes can only read so much.

Speaking of which, in many ways my body has not enjoyed the return to work. Neck and shoulder pain galore on Tuesday, and full on migraine by Thursday morning. I did my best to counter the stress with exercise (walking around the lake with the dogs) but I did not make it to the gym because of the workload and the extra gas I'm trying to squeak out until next payday, which is my cousin's wedding, which is becoming quite an expense.

Good thing I don't have a date, it would cost me even more. Gas up to CT and back, plus hotel, plus dry cleaning, plus gift, plus lunch the next day with old friends (the one saving grace in the whole ordeal), and that's quite a little adventure. Oh but hey, you only get married BIG once. Go for it. *rolling my eyes* Nieces, nephews, brothers, sisters, that's different. Those are blood, I'd take a bullet for you relatives. But a cousin, who is in her early 30s, about whose life I know nothing? Whatever. I'm going because her dear mother has been a sweet godmother to me growing up. And I do respect all that my aunt's generation did for my generation.

_________

The scale says (and I really take this with a grain of water-retaining salt) that I am down 3 lbs since Sunday. Hell, I'm not counting or getting excited, merely taking note. When the clothes start feeling different again, that's when I'll feel excited. Odd because I'm not exercising. Odd because I'm not really thinking about it. I am eating as I'd planned out for the week on Sunday, but I don't enjoy the "hungry again" feeling that complex carbs give me about 3 hours after eating.

_________

In other unusual news...

FutureSex and I have gotten bogged down with work this week but we have plans to meet this Saturday afternoon. Hmm. I don't know. Who has sex in the afternoon? Animals, I suppose. And people having illicit steamy affairs. And well, maybe me, lone single girl. I better make sure that timing doesn't interfere with my Red Sox playoff schedule.

We'll see. It's been so long, I think I may have forgotten the basics. Wish that made me a virgin again. Looked at his photo again since meeting, and odd as it sounds, I am just not attracted to the photo. In person, though, there was definitely something. Full moon effect only? Saturday will tell.

I've also started my very first twit-flirt.Um....would that be tw-lirting, tweeters, what say you? Tw-lirting, what a word.

He's 40, Italian, and of course, married. But he's Molto Bello. And a diehard Springsteen fan. Oh delish. ~~Pour some italian sausage on me!~~ Oh wait, that's Def Leppard. Strap your hands across my engines...I figure as long as we keep our passion to Bruce, we're in a safe zone. He hasn't asked me for nekkid shots or said anything rude or sexual, so I think we're OK.

_________

And in yet other unusual news...

I had two FREE Springsteen tickets dropped in my lap this week. Granted, they're so easy to come by because they booked too many concerts at Giants stadium when no one can really afford to go (and these $68-$90 tickets are way LESS than most acts charge to begin with) and even Jersey seems like it might be Bruced-out at the moment. I never thought I'd see the day when lower tier seats are being sold at face value or under face value 2 days before the show. Somehow people coughed up ridiculous sums of money to see U2. I like them, but I'll take my poet's writing any day. So, I'm going tonight, to give myself an energy elixir in the soul of my autumn loving heart. And I gifted the other ticket to a poor college kid, so I am doing the right thing by paying it forward.

Just for a few more hours, for just one more night, I'll be a tramp running free.

"But they can't touch me now
And you can't touch me now
They ain't gonna do to me
What I watched them do to you"
Independence Day, Springsteen

End of the Break

2009-10-04T19:57:00.008-04:00

"Show a little faith,
there's magic in the night,
You ain't a beauty
but hey you're alright,
and that's alright with me."
Thunder Road, Springsteen

In the last few hours of daylight before I must report back to ~~prison~~ work, I'm sitting outside watching the lake. Fairly windy today and there's a chill once the sun no longer shines upon where you sit. Two ducks are really going at it, like a watery duel to the death. I sure hope the underdog gets away.

Time really flies by. Two weeks gone in the blink of an eye. I neglected to clean out the clothes closet. I didn't write nearly as much as I'd wanted to write. And I didn't make it to the shore, Jersey or Massachusetts. The closet, the novel, and the shore aren't going anywhere, so I can deal with them and visit them in time. The shore is better in another month or so anyway.

Somehow I did manage to relax. I can certainly say that I've slept enough to feel my body and mind are well-rested, and I've enjoyed my natural pattern of staying up late late nights (Craig Ferguson I love you!) and sleeping in mornings (hell is that habit ever going to be a bitch to get out of). Absolut Boston helped add 7 lbs to my kangaroo pouch, but the gym still exists at $40/month to remind me that I can get back there 24/7. I saw the Red Sox in Baltimore and The Boss in Jersey; definite highlights of my year. He played Waiting on a Sunny Day and I danced for my Mom like he played it just for her. She's going to have the scope tomorrow and hopefully they'll learn something.

About minute 3:00: Crowd-surfing, 60-year old Bruce Springsteen!

I've spent a lot of time with my adorable dogs, whom I don't gush about on here nearly enough, but love dearly. They've been great company. Chad got frisbee'd every day and Lo is probably not going to handle my extended absence from the house too well (still haven't had a single call about my pet sitting ad even though all my number slips have been removed from 2 flyers).

I had to shave Lo's coat in a continued effort to control this itchy disorder she has. We (as if she had a say in it) went with a lion's mane cut this time rather than a horse cut. Left her tail full and just sheared her entire body from the shoulders back. The itchy problem seems internal to me as there is no evidence on her skin of anything, and I wonder if she doesn't have a bit of an immune issue of sorts. The change of the weather seems to have made her worse, when a few weeks ago she was doing better. The most natural anti-itch shampoo doesn't help. Oatmeal doesn't help. The special oils I bought don't help. Cleaning the house like crazy doesn't help. I wish I could get a vet who would investigate until we found an answer. Just can't afford more doctors.

I tried to take a photo of my black little lioness with the web cam. Sadly, nothing but black blobs. I was so hoping it would be suitable for Halloween. If I could only get her to roar maybe she could make some money.

_______________

So in an effort to get back into the swing-a-ling of things, I cooked for the week.

Brekkies will be:
1 vitatop muffin top
w/ 1/2 TBLS PB

Lunches will be:
grilled chicken
with either TBLS of garlic yogurt sauce or a thai peanut sauce
EVOO sauteed onions and peppers
over 1/4 cup brown rice, barley, and rye

Dinners will be:
eggs
or
omaha steak / burger
with peppers and onions
and 1-2 TBLS reduced fat cheese

In the cooler weather, I find it hard to eat something cold like salads. So, no more spinach for now. Some will say there's no variety, but that's the way I like it. And some will say there's no fruit, but I really don't like fruit. I do have some cranberry juice I will try to drink mixed into my unsweetened un-vodka iced tea.

To guinea pig the "I'm not consuming enough calories per day" theory, we'll see if eating this much will spark any loss.

_______________

My researchers (aka Sweden) inform me that there was a randy full moon on Friday night, which likely contributed to the randy dandy mood of my date. Very interesting. FutureSex and I are talking about a weekend rendezvous coming up this Saturday, but we'll have to see. He has definitely maintained interest so far, emailing and texting often. Glad to see a 42-year old who embraces technology, even if it is only to flirt seductively. What better use of technology is there? As long as he doesn't start sexting me his goody parts, we're going to be on the same page. I'm all for seeing it in person; just don't send it to my phone.

___________

I Ated It
Sunday, October 4

brekkie
1 egg, EVOO sesame french toast
tea

lunch
2 hot dogs, no buns
1 frozen mini snickers

dinner
caramelized onion mini buckwheat pizza
1 shot of vodka in unsweetened iced tea
water

NOTE: I cooked for the entire week. This was just a bunch of bits and odds of what I won't be eating so it had to go somewhere.

Fucking Hypocrite

2009-10-03T15:00:00.015-04:00

And now for something...self-exposing and revealing. At least, I think so. I am always up for a little introspection if in the end I've learned something. Want to come along for the ride?

Family members may not wish to read this sexploit. As if the post title didn't warn you.

Today we're going to remove our Bridget Jones' hats and we're going to don our Samantha Jones' hats. You know, her hats are much more fun anyway.

“A guy can just as easily dump you if you fuck him on the first date as he can if you wait until the tenth.”

Thank you Samantha.

I consider myself to be fairly intuitive, self-aware, and enlightened. I try to do no harm to others, while standing tall for myself. I still try to see the good in people first, despite the countless times I've been proven wrong. I put myself in another's shoes when most people don't even know the meaning of the word empathy. In fact, I might be a little too empathetic.

So, it hit me pretty hard on the head on Friday after a quick "coffee meet & greet" when an OKStupid potential turned into a long seductive staring match across dinner, with mad-PDA (yes it horrifies me too) liplocking dessert with a delicious man in a parking lot.

What was it that hit me on the head? That I am a complete and absolute hypocrite.

I've written about and put down all of the guys who wanted to fuck me but not date me, and here I was so turned on by this particular guy for some reason that I would gladly have driven to the first private location we could find to get it on.

The idea was suggested, yes, by me. And it was discussed, it was seriously discussed, and it was decided, again by my schizophrenic self, that it would be best to wait...until the 2nd date.

Heat of the moment? Maybe. But he went with it.

And I know what you're wondering. No alcohol was involved for either of us. This was a sober facesucking experience. And we've been communicating rather intently since we've left each other's side last night. I have new appreciation for pillowtalk.

So in retro, perhaps all these dates I've been going on, I wasn't really bothered by the guys wanting to shag (the Brit definition, not the southern US definition...hahaha CG!) me that night, it was just that I didn't feel the same attraction for them.

This should have been so bloody obvious to me. But no. It wasn't. Until now. So, now I will just say "eh, the attraction wasn't there," rather than beat my head against the desk because yet another guy wants to bang. It should be a compliment if a guy wants you, but we know most will bang anything. But that's OK, because we know that. If we can remember it, we're ahead of the game. In the end, it is still our choice. And I'll take those odds.

Oh....so, you want to know who is my yummy FutureSex partner? 42, divorced financial analyst (what is it with me and the finance guys?), Greek-born, brown chocolate eyes, bald, 6'0, with very nice hands and a very warm, seductive voice. Travelled the commuter train out from the city to meet me which I found incredibly erotic this time around but have previously found desperate and dull with other guys.

The planets must be flipped upside down or something.

Or I'm just inching ever closer to my peak and thinking about sex more often than ever.

That is definitely the truth. In fact, I'm hoping the Wedding Crashers show up at my cousin's wedding. No stage 5 clinger here boys. Just sayin'.

Hello my name is _____________ and I have the libido of an average 18 year old boy.

Want to fuck?

How about now?

Now?

___________

I Ated It

Friday, October 2

brekkie
PB on sesame toast
tea, tea, and more tea

lunch
bacon cheddar burger with onions on english muffin
fries
ranch dressing

dinner
tossed salad w/ grilled chicken
tea
water

Note: It was Friday. Ha.

Comprehende?

2009-10-03T13:41:00.010-04:00

Alrighty...

First important things first, can you do me a favor? Right-click and visit the blog of my Jersey friend and leave her some well wishes? She's feeling pretty lousy. However, she has a great playlist that you can play on and on as you blog read. My thoughts are with you Jersey girl.

Hopefully none of the tunes in her playlist are Disney tunes, because Houston, we've discovered a crack in the Happy Costa Rica guy's armor. And it seems to be a pretty fatal one, rather than a repairable one. He is no Disney knight. How reassuringly human.

Last week, I may have witnessed his Pura Vida, but all I witnessed this week were some emotionally needy issues mixed in with the usual male rudeness.

On Tuesday, he began to text me, starting off with the usual, and I explained my mother is in the hospital, I've been traveling, etc. Then his TMs became ranting in nature, going on about how he's giving up on women because no one has time for him. I told him it was really not the best time for me to be trying to explain my inability to meet up with him again, but I would call him later. Not good enough. He went on and on, and about 10 TMs later, he turned his general lamenting into specifics about me. I'm apparently too interested in baseball (I went to one party last weekend) and not interested enough in him. We could be friends, but he is not going to wait for me to be his girlfriend.

*blink*

Um, I don't even know him enough to know if I want to be more than friends.

I should have left it there, but I wanted to defend my actions and my honor a bit. Because he definitely had it wrong, and who the heck was he to be demanding so much of me? It takes two to show interest, I was expecting a little pursuit from him, not be the one chasing him. But anyway.....so, I called him and tried to explain my thoughts, and these were the questions he began to ask me:

Do I get angry easily?

Do I get sad easily?

(Am I being psychoanalyzed?)

Do I stay in the house a lot?

Do I want to spend time with a guy?

Do I eat a lot?

(Wait. Back the truck the fuck up.)

WHAT?!

Sure, was I getting angry easily right then? But I tried. I took a calming breath. I gave him the bilingual benefit of the doubt. I reminded him that he had lunch with me and we talked about working out at the gym and we talked about reducing stress and how it affects our health, so he could answer those questions himself. I reminded him that he has a lot of time on his hands not working, but that I have a job that will keep me busy plus we have the distance and his lack of driving to consider.

And he just didn't seem to listen or understand and went on....just like so many of the others.

"Well I just askin you this because I don't want to be with a depressed angry woman and because if you lost 50 lbs you could be beautiful, like a model...you're so hot honey...comprehende?"

*click*

I hung up.

Do I get angry easily?

I guess I do when an asshole is involved.

Comprehende?

__________

Wednesday, September 26
Life Fitness Treadmill
Standing heart rate: 76
Average heart rate: 140
Max heart rate: 162
Workout mode: RANDOM mode level 18@2.6
Calories: 830 Distance: 2.47 Time: 65:00

NOTE: Nice average heart rate.

I lost track of what I ate.

Doctor McHurry Up Already

2009-10-01T15:17:00.006-04:00

Thanks peeps, for the support.

Update: Mom's taking a book out of the MLB player's unwritten rules and using roids, of all things! I knew she loved Big Papi, but I didn't know how much.

All joking aside, they're giving her steroids to control her breathing level. Until they get that under control, they can't do the scopes they want to do to see what's going on with her lungs and possibly her intestines.

But the good news is that her heart is fine after they scared us.

All in all, she's in the right place to be taken care of. Thank you Medicare. She is just so bloated and so weak that it is hard to handle, from the sidelines.

Medical stuff just takes way too much freaking time when I expect things to be resolved Grey's Anatomy style. You know, with Meredith and Christine fighting over who gets to do the procedure, and everything getting resolved in one episode.

My Mom's health issues have been going on longer than all the episodes of St Elsewhere, ER, and Grey's Anatomy put together.

On a happier note, Bruce is in 2 days. Rain or shine. I will be there, singing my lungs out with a cast of thousands. And especially if he plays either of my Mom's favorites, the toe-tapping Waiting on a Sunny Day or the crowd-partying Mary's Place, I will be dancing like a freak.

Just for you Mom.

Live like you're dying, my friends. Live it up.

___________

I Ated It (like a piggy)
banana nut muffin
20 raspberries
20 walnut halves
tea
water

filet mignon
twice baked potato
asparagus
2 glasses of merlot
chocolate mouse pie

Note: Hey, it was a birthday dinner celebration. Don't judge. No exercise as sadly, putting one's foot to the gas pedal of one's vehicle does not count as cardio.

Deja Vu Fall

2009-09-30T08:56:00.007-04:00

Well, deja vu last autumn.

1. Sox will play the Angels in the ALDS. At least I'm not living in a hotel for two weeks. (Thank God says Sweden!)

2. And Mom is in the hospital again.

Fluid in one lung. And some odd things going on with her hands and feet. They're monitoring her blood every 4 hours. Something about her heart, which oddly they'd always said was in great shape. I guess it is up until the moment that it isn't.

I don't know anything more. Rather frustrating. I don't trust a single doctor. It has been this way for more years than I can remember. Whatever I hear, I just think, "Yeah, umhm, right." And wait 24 hours for them to say something different.

Of course, she doesn't want anyone to go visit her. And really, I get sick to my stomach just walking into a hospital.

But last year, one of my good HS friends didn't get a chance to say goodbye to his mother before she lost consciousness and she had a DNR and well....you know....those thoughts linger.

Every day we should cherish what we have and who we share it with.

Blah blah. Anyway. No crying. Hugs and all that.

_____________

Tuesday, September 27
Life Fitness Treadmill
Standing heart rate: 78
Average heart rate: 129
Max heart rate: 145
Workout mode: RANDOM mode level 18@2.6
Calories: 804 Distance: 2.46 Time: 65:00

NOTE: Really thought the exercise would drum up some hunger. It didn't. I found myself uninterested in eating until about 8:30 at night. What's up with that? I'll probably never see the 900s again as I am trying so hard not to overwork the knee. So far, so good.

I Ated It
scrambled eggs
Sesame Ezekiel bread: 2 slices
1 tblsp garlic
1 TBL reduced fat shredded cheese
1/4 cup Blueberries
tea
2 mini size snickers
water