Skrinkering Hearts

2007-07-08T20:07:00.000-04:00

How timely, blogger won't even let me make a title for this post.

Therein lies the problem and why you can find me here now!

http://www.skrinkeringhearts.wordpress.com/

Thank YOU very much Miss Lippy

2007-07-05T07:33:00.000-04:00

Mr. Friday, I'm sure, will really appreciate, the nice cold sore I have on my lower lip just in time for tomorrow's date.

I mean, I'm just sayin'.

I know! Wiked hot.
This is what dreams (and first kisses) are made of.
Mr. Friday will not be able to keep his hands off of this shiznit.

more macaroni

2007-07-04T20:42:00.000-04:00

What do you know!? I'm sitting here watching the Boston Pops Fireworks Spectacular on tv, and they are playing the macaroni song. Go figure.

I'm not a big firework girl myself. Not that I don't like them. Something about them just doesn't totally do it for me. I am open to the idea of them, don't get me wrong. I think they are pretty and, I guess amusing too. I enjoy looking at them from afar, and the whole lying on the blanket idea in a field or park or something with friends or a loved one sounds appealing. But hmm, something about it, just doesn't really get me all excited. For some reason. Then again, it's been a while since I've given them a chance. Maybe one of these days they'll all of a sudden make me swoon.

Oh, did you all know that New Englander's eat more ice cream per capita than anywhere else in the U.S.? Yes, it's a true fact.

That's all. Hope everyone has been enjoying the day. Go drink some cheap wine, a cold brewski, or a nice margarita. That's how I would like all of us bloggers to roll today.

Stuck a feather in his cap and called it macaroni.*

2007-07-04T11:20:00.000-04:00

Happy 4th of July!

I hope everyone has a great holiday! (if it applies!) I'll try and be back in full force later in the week. Although my commenting skills have been at peak performance this week, I haven't devoted much time to my own blogging. I plan to do this soon.

Hope that everyone has a safe and happy day, whatever you end up doing!

*Honestly, what the holy hell does this song mean??*

more than you ever wanted to know...

2007-07-01T12:29:00.000-04:00

Another chance to learn more about moi! Try and hold back your excitement. Beth tagged me and I'm going for it.

What were you doing 10 years ago?

I think I was a Sophomore in high school at the time? Probably at that point still rocking out the grunge look. Cords and birks or those famous clogs of the time, earthy tones, and some type of wool sweater. Oh, and definitely a hemp necklace. That I made myself. Quite a fashion statement.

What were you doing 1 year ago?

It wasn't too much of a change from today. I was getting used to a new apartment, and a new car. I think it was around this time last year that I went away for one of the best weekends ever to NH with my best friends.

Five snacks you enjoy:

1-- Almonds
2-- Humus/Tabouli and pita bread
3-- Cheetos
4-- String cheese
5-- Cinnamon Toast Crunch

Five songs you know all the lyrics to:

1-- Message in a Bottle- The Police

2-- Just Another Day (Without You)- John Secada
3-- Plush- Stone Temple Pilots
4-- Lucky Star- Madonna
5-- Walk Away- Ben Harper

Five things you would do if you were a millionaire:

1-- Stop renting and buy a house
2-- Pay off Sallie Mae.
3-- Invest? Because that seems like the right thing to do?
4-- Take my family on a relaxing trip somewhere
5-- Travel.

Five bad habits:

1-- Biting my lips, often when I'm nervous. Sometimes when I'm just plain bored.
2-- Leaving everything to the last minute
3-- Getting sucked into a good Lifetime, and staying up way later than I should
4-- Not putting my laundry away
5-- Eating too fast

Five things you like doing:

1-- Spending a good chunk of time in a bookstore and café
2-- Obviously, people watching
3-- Writing, and pilates
4-- Drinking chocolate milk, sending cards
5-- Taking self-enrichment type classes, and going to the beach

Five things you would never wear again:

1-- A hypercolor tee shirt
2-- Double Denim. Horrid.
3-- One of those embroidered vests. You know, that are fabric-y in the front, and silk in the back? And holy hell, I think they even tie. Wow. I was bringing sexy back big time when I busted out that fashion statement in 6th grade. H-O-T.
4-- Hot pink stirrup pants. Unless of course I am going to an 80's party.
5-- A scrunchie.

Five favorite toys:

Hmm… this is a tough one. I don't have many toys, toys. I'm pulling this out of my ass:
1-- My ipod.
2-- Hair straightener?
3-- XM radio
4-- Rapozo, our fake, breathing kitty. Meow!

5-- My digital camera

Extra:

Here's a couple pictures of Cosmo, who likes blogging as much as me...

being thrift, splurging, and when it's worth it.

2007-06-28T22:21:00.000-04:00

With most things in life, I would say I'm pretty thrifty. I like a good sale, discounts, and perusing through the clearance section sometimes. I like stores like Marshalls, TJMaxx (name brands for less, yo!), and I'm amused to search for and find a gem, amongst a bunch of unfortunates. I will buy the food store brand, opting for that choice over the $1.99 more version of the name brand. I'll pass up a Mobil station to pay .05 cents less two miles away.

All that being said, I would not say I'm cheap. I just recognize and love a good deal when I see one. Don't get me wrong, I will splurge with the best of them. I have more handbags than I possibly know what to do with; I treat myself to pedicures regularly. I have a colored flip flop probably for each day of summer (perhaps that's a spec of an exaggeration, but you get the point), and a shoe for every occasion. And I will continue to do all of these things, because, well, I can. For now. And I'll splurge on other items, such as face wash, lotions, shampoos, a good haircut & foil, and undies.

I'm fortunate enough to have a job that offers me the ability to do these things. I don't take this for granted. I certainly don't rake in the dough, by any means. Around the same time every month, I will often go into overdraft protection. Because I'm not good at transferring funds from savings to checking regularly enough. So at about the 3rd of every month, when I've just paid rent, I'm waiting on my next pay check, Sallie Mae just kicked my ass, and I've made both a car payment, insurance payment, and paid for food (you know, to live), and then the gas bill comes, it's pretty rough times.

And to get me good when I'm down, then comes the cell phone bill. Which is pretty much the kicker. Some people are phone people. Some would rather step on a nail. I am not one of these people. I love the phone. It's wondrous chatting with my friends in Maine and NY and NV who all have the same cell phone service so it's free all of the time. That's cool, you know?

What's not as cool, is getting charged .45 cents a minute, when I go over my "minutes." Which I did. This month. And last month too, but it wasn't "as big a deal." This month? We're looking at a $335 cell phone bill, when it's usually around, oh, $40. Opps.

So I can attribute this to a couple things:
1--My mother needs to switch to my cell phone company. She just does. I will not switch to hers; I have no interest. I don't like the provider, the service sucks, and truth be told, most of the people I talk to have my service. Which means mine is the best, clearly. So mom needs to switch.
2--I talk too much before 9pm, and too little after 9pm. Free = after 9. I try to go to bed early these days. I like to talk after work, sometimes on my drive home. Also before work, in the morning, before 9am. Well this isn't an option. Free also = until 6am. Who will I be phoning with before 6am? Really?
3--I don't have a home phone. I just rely on my cellie. Which means, any calls I need to make, during business hours, or before 9pm, on a weekday, need to be done on my cell phone. Which adds up, I guess.
4--I sing for too long on voicemails. Yes, I sing. I leave singing messages and perhaps they get too lengthy.
5--I just plain need to get a handle on things. No more of this doubling my monthly minutes. I'm allowed 7.5 hours of off peak, during the day, whenever the hell I want, before 9pm calling. I need to work on this. Restrain myself I guess.

Clearly this bill threw me for a loop. Kind of irked me, because I try to keep better control of this stuff. But then again? It really so bad. Sure, $335 isn't cool. Not at all. But, since I don't splurge regularly on really really pricey purses and shoes, just sometimes, maybe this is my thing. I like deals, and I take them when I can get them. Perhaps going over in cell phone minutes is my downfall. I like to talk. Apparently a lot. So maybe I don't have a new Coach bag to show for it, or a closet full of designer shoes, but I'm still smiling. Because I got a chance to congratulate one of my best friends on the closing of her house at 1pm on a Friday. And I have peace of mind knowing that my grandmother is feeling just fine after chemo at 5:37pm on a Wednesday night. I have laughed harder than I have in a long time talking to a new friend who is good with directions. I got to welcome my longtime friend home from France on a Monday morning at 10am. People know that they are my "sunshine" as I bust into tune on a random Thursday drive home. My penpal in WV and I can share a dodgy ex encounter at 7pm on a Friday night. I now have a new friend because I had to hound the humane society daily between 11am-4pm.
And you know what? So what, I had to pay for all of this? Quite honestly, I would say it was damn well worth it.

And additionally, I now have three new shirts and a pair of earrings that I just retail therapied myself after viewing this bill. You know, because that's how I roll.

nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky

2007-06-27T17:47:00.000-04:00

There are those certain times, that while you're living them, you just know you want to make a conscious effort to tuck away a part of that memory, that moment. Etch it into your mind, your heart. The way she smiled during that conversation, the sweetness of that kiss outside in the rain, the way it felt to finally say what you wanted to say to him. There are those specific moments, snippits of time, that you can just feel it. Feel the need to really embrace it and be there with it, take it all in as much as you can. Because before you know it, the moment will be gone. You know right then and there that you need to make a yourself remember it. And then you find, that not only have you remembered the moment, but you have the details. The color of the place mat at her kitchen table and how the seat cushion was starting to fray just a spec. The way the rain was starting to trickle down the driveway and form a puddle by your feet. What you were wearing when you told him that you needed a little space that cool day in March.

There are other times, when perhaps you weren't thinking that this is one of these times, those things that you should for sure, tuck away, keep close, to remember down the road. Sometimes they're sneaky, these memories. You'll be sitting in your bed at night listening to Rachel Yamagata, and find yourself remembering the way his hand fit in yours. How he tucked your hair behind your ear and kissed your cheek.

Time goes by, life happens. Before you know it you're sitting on the couch at 11:30pm on a weeknight, drinking beers with good friends, rehashing the remember-when's of a couple years ago. The time that you're apartment had a flood and you all stayed in a hotel for the night. When relationships were new and your best friend couldn't eat (and let's be frank, neither could you, by association) because she had that "I'm gonna shit" feeling that you get when a new guy is in the picture.

As we grow older, and life changes happen, we realize that what is, right now, might not be, in a month. Or a year. Being able to sit around and shoot the shit with good friends, drinking beers with no reserve, with no big obligations other than feeding a new kitty can sometimes be taken for granted. If you let them.

When you sit back and think of the times, perhaps a year ago, maybe five years ago or more, when things were so different than they are now, it helps to put things in perspective. Because when you're say, ten, and you want to go play outside on the swings with your best friend across the street, and you misplace a jelly shoe, that is the biggest thing in your life. That's big happenings and thinking about it now makes you realize that you had it so easy then.

Which makes you think about the present. The way things are, right now. And how quickly things can, and do change. Because five years from now, you and your best friends probably won't have the luxury to just meetup over American Idol and margaritas. People will marry, and move, and make babies. Some of you already have. It makes you grateful and appreciative for what is, right now, this instant. The small moments that pass between friends and loved ones. Soft touches and glances across the room. Shopping at Target for three hours on a Tuesday night.

Realizing that things won't always be this way, and could very possibly change at any moment, makes you just that much more appreciative of it right as it's happening. Right now.

sneaking in

2007-06-25T22:15:00.000-04:00

We fought. Argued. So often. We'd bicker, and I hated it. Especially before bed. You didn't want to talk about the fight the next morning. I did. I wanted answers. Why did we keep doing this? Mustn't this be a sign? You said that all couples fought. And I refused to believe that. You said I overreacted, calling me selfish for wanting to talk about it because you said you were done with the conversation. And "how could I" not accept that. I told you I wasn't being selfish. That I just wanted a plan. To work on, or towards. To make this get better. Not knowing for sure if it really ever could, get better.

I was sad. Upset. And discouraged. Thinking, wondering, is this as good as it gets? This? This is what it's like? And I began to think maybe I was overreacting. I began to cherish the good, lived for the good of it all, of us. Those few and far between good times, amidst all of the turmoil. I would apologize, over and over, for making you upset. Actually believing that it was my fault.

You said you never felt this strongly for someone before. Couldn't picture life without me. You, we, we pictured a family together. Marriage and a house and children and a puppy.

We would have our happy times. Takeout on the floor over candlelight. Ice skating hand in hand on a cold winter day. Then, inevitably, it would go back. Back to bad. To yelling and drinking and tears in the bathroom, or over chai tea at a Starbucks with a girlfriend down the road on a bad night.

Using all of the emotional strength I could muster up, I tried. Over and over to make it all work. Make it better. Make us better. Tried, with all I could, to make us the happy couple that I hoped we could be. I wanted so badly for us to just be happy together. I thought I could do that could be us.

It didn't work. After a while, it all ended up being much, much more actual work, to make us work, than it was worth. I loved you with everything I had, and pulled the hardest move I've ever had to make when I told you I couldn't do it anymore. When I said goodbye.

It's been a long time since all of that. I don't think about you as often as I once did. But I still do sometimes. And it's sneaky. It sneaks up on a warm sunny Sunday afternoon in the summertime. When I'm not doing anything we ever did together, I'll think of you then. And it will throw me for a loop. We never had a summer. I'll be on a bike ride, or eating homemade salsa at a friend's house, and you'll be there. Not physically, but you're there. And it will hit me like a ton of freaking bricks. It creeps in. You, creep in. You end up in my thoughts, just like that, and sometimes in my dreams. Into my mind at a random moment.

And maybe there are some triggers, who knows. Seeing your friend, who is dating my friend. Me, meeting a new guy. Hearing a song on the radio that reminds me of you, of us. But sometimes, there you are, again, all of a sudden. With no rhyme or reason to it all, you're back. And I don't even see it coming. The bag and box of you and your things, your reminders, the notes and cards, our pictures and your boxers, they're all stowed away. Gone are the physical reminders of you.

But those emotional reminders, those damn emotional reminders, that have a way of getting in, unexpectedly, they go, and they stick right to my heart. And then I feel it, and I feel you, like a little twinge from time to time. A reminder maybe. Of a time when. What once was. What is so different now, today. Of where I've been and where I've come.

You're still there. Here. Sometimes more than others. Often it's nothing. Sometimes it's really intense, pulling, abruptly at my heart.

I miss you sometimes, and I don't really want to anymore.

new guy(s)

2007-06-24T21:13:00.000-04:00

Friday night I met a new guy.

Saturday I did a little mini-triathlon in prep for three weeks from now.

AND THEN....

I met....

COSMO:

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

In between all of this, there were Sam Summer's with friends, bbq's, beautiful weather, and a follow up phone call from Friday night's boy.

Not a bad weekend at all.

pawsing for a moment

2007-06-20T21:19:00.000-04:00

Today I was in a bit of a funk over a kitten. Over a kitty I didn't get. I saw two sweet little sister kitty's yesterday. Wicked cute and of course I was totally smitten; it doesn't take much. Because I was running in a race after work (training, yo!), I couldn't take said kitten home with me that day. So I was told to call back today because the ~~jerks~~ nice nice people at the shelter cannot hold pets for really interested parties. Well low and behold, both kitties were gone and I was shit out of luck. Which is fine, I know it's just a cat and it's so not the end of the world, but holy hell, I really wanted this little one. And it's just no fun getting your hopes up for something like that, that doesn't end up working out.

It just mustn't have been meant to be. Probably would have been a Cujo kitty or something. I mean, I can only assume that's the reason that kitty didn't work out for me. And there are other kitty's in the sea, I know this. The right one will come along and there's no sense on getting all down and out about it. But I was for a bit today, and felt I had a right to be as I had setup kitty's room (the nursery), with food, water, and toilet (kitty treats to anyone who can guess this reference!). The whole nine. For no such kitty today.

But then I got an email from my dear friend Brooke, which always makes my day. Shortly thereafter, I had a fun chat with three good friends, which made me smile and laugh and worked me out of aforementioned funk.

And then there's Melissa who shared this gem of a video again, which always gets me. Completley hysterical. Pee before watching.

And what really did it, what always helps to make a day such as this better, is the red lipstick. The cakey red lipstick that my roommate and I buy, and don (and keep on hand) in emergencies such as this one. We've been known to bust this out if a cute boy doesn't call back, after a shit day at work, or tonight, when we looked at a kitten-to-be's quarters and there was, no kitten. This lipstick is the classic red cake that you can imagine an older woman donning, who maybe smells a bit mothballish. I don't know this for a fact, but it's a red that should not be worn out of the house. Rather, should be saved for occasions such as this, for a good laugh while one may or may not have been crawling around on the living room floor showing roommate how a kitten might bathe themselves.*

To better luck tomorrow.

*No alcohol was consumed during the red lipstick scene and/or the possible kitten bathing demonstration, which may or may not have really happened.

lately I'm beginning to find that when I drive myself my light is found

2007-06-18T20:38:00.000-04:00

I love the time I have for myself on my drive to and from work each day. Lately with the nice weather I've been all about the sunroof open and windows down, music blaring. It's one of the only times each day, that I have, for just me. Time to think about life, or not. Time to zone out and listen to loud music. Sometimes even time to just have a quick, quiet cry, or if it's really a bad day, the ugly cry that Brandy and I have discussed. Mostly I just enjoy the me time, to have just for myself, by myself, each day. I look forward to it. I don't mind the 45 minutes it takes to get to work and back, and I seldom even mind the traffic. It relaxes me after flipping out in the morning when I forget if I turned my straightener off or not. It calms me after a stressful day with clients who have Tourette's and yell obscenities all over the place.

And for a Professional People Watcher like myself, I tend to notice the little things going around around me and I have to then rehash them to whoever will listen. Or to you guys.

To the man I see outside the little Indian market at the end of my street:
I'm sorry, but the socks and sandals combo is not really helping your cause. You look like a very nice man, you even sometimes smile at me as I drive by. This is why I think we should discuss this little minor issue. Socks and sandals, of any type, do not a good fashion statement make.
(And yes I am the authority on this issue. My best friend's name is Clinton and you can catch me on TLC on Friday nights.)

To the woman on the street a couple over from me who rakes the sand on her sidewalk every morning:
You are just adorable. Seriously. That little red sweater that you wear (albeit daily), even in 95 degree humidity, along with the red knee socks, is just too cute for words. My only request would be, that you perhaps invest in a broom. The rake just really grates on my ears. That sound on the sidewalk. It. Just. About. Kills. Me. So that's why I had Justin Timberlake blasting today. And I'm sorry that startled you.

To the man next to me on the highway, with the Italian flag dangling from your rearview mirror, along with what appears to be some sort of medallion?:
You need to take a picture. Don't stare while driving. In fact, don't stare in general, it's kind of rude. And it freaks me out, just a spec. You are wearing too many gold chains and your hair has more product that I care to see on anyone. Keep driving.

To the woman?/man? (I honestly couldn't tell), in the red Mazda 6, who was driving EIGHT MPH today:
Pick it the hell up! I understand on side streets one might slow down, say, enjoy the kids playing at the park, the flowers on the road. Or maybe you're lost and you're looking for a street sign. But honestly? Truly? Do you really need to go 8? MPH? It really irks me. And I know I enjoy my alone, me, car time, but really. Let's be honest here. By the time I'm three or four streets away from home, I'm done. I want out and I don't want to wait another 20 minutes to get home. Please tell me what route you plan to take in the future and I'll take a different one to avoid you. I'm sorry.

To the hot police officer who appears to be directing "traffic" outside of an office building on my alternate route home:
What's your schedule? I took your way home today and holy hell am I glad. You were looking quite sexy in your uniformed garb, golden tan, and appropriate sunglasses. If I knew that this was your beat I would have taken this route ages ago. It may be sad, but I'm hoping to be pulled over tomorrow, by you my dear. Bring it.

And lastly,
To the cute grandkids of my landlord who play in the driveway, daily, with chalk:
You're really really adorable. And I just want to smuggle you into my apartment to play with trucks together or watch Doug Funny with you guys. You're way too cute. It's sometimes overwhelming, your cuteness. And you make the end of a long day really worth it.

That is all blogbuds.
Oh wait. Micey was caught. That's right. In the basement. Trapped. Dead. In case you were all losing sleep over this, as I sure as hell have been. Let's hope his friends are all outa here now as well.

Four more days until the weekend.

family time

2007-06-17T16:11:00.000-04:00

The weekend away was wonderful. At the beginning of the week we had been hearing nice weather, later we heard rain. So I didn't bring my bike. Turns out I should have. The weather was gorgeous. Really, it couldn't have been more perfect. Mid 70's, sunny, not humid, not until today when we were leaving.

We all met at the Maine Diner on Friday afternoon for lunch. I rode up with my mom and stepdad, and we met my grandparents and aunt, and other aunt and her girlfriend for mostly fishy stuff, which is all good because it's Maine, and I'm starting to seafood now. A spec at least. Haddock here and there, crab cakes sometimes, and if I'm feeling frisky, scallops! So lunch was good, a really nice start to the weekend. My grandmother was wearing her little scarf which actually has real looking bangs attached. Which is just so cute, and and sweet, and a little bit sad too. And she just looked absolutely adorable as did my precious grandfather sporting his new shoes which ended up keeping him up with foot cramps later that night.

Our hotel was just fabulous. Views to die for, with the ocean just feet away (pictures to come!). I was in a suite with my aunt, with a porch that overlooked the water, right on the marina with boats docked right there. We each had our own room and bathroom, we could hear the ocean from the living room, it was just amazing. The massage that we all got treated to on Saturday was wonderful. Especially after taking two runs that morning. Runs that led right to the beach, and you can imagine how much I enjoyed that whole scene.

This morning was really nice as things wrapped up with a family breakfast for Father's Day. In light of some family illnesses lately, my grandmother's recent diagnosis, and just the more obvious fragileness of life itself as of late, it was just very very nice to get away and have some quality time with my loved ones. I feel so blessed to have the amazing family that I do. And now I need to stop lest the tears start up.

The weekend was just perfect. Only thing that would have made it better would have been if I got to see my father today. I called him today, far off in Reno. Although it's a great place to visit and travel to, and I love every second of my time there with him, sometimes I just wish he were still a car ride away, close enough to just see anytime, spur of the moment. I would have loved to have swung by and picked him up for lunch and a movie today like we used to do. We will just have to take a raincheck for September when I'm going out to see him again.

Hope everyone has had a great weekend, and Happy Father's Day to all of you too.

peace by way of water

2007-06-14T14:36:00.000-04:00

I'm thinking maybe it has something to do with the fact that for a good solid fifteen years of my youth, into college, I was frequently in, or around water. As a kid, we'd vacation and Fourth of July (yup, I verbed that), in Maine. I'd spend sweltering, sunburned days by the beach, and love every second of it. Soon after, it was more pool oriented. Taking, and then teaching swim lessons at the local Y. I was in lifeguard training at fifteen years old (when me and Resusa-Andy became so tight). During, and after that time, it was daily swim practices and swim meets, and life guarding at the Swim and Tennis Club. Yup, the one where the unfortunate glass incident went down.

So for really as long as I can remember, water- be it the salty ocean, a chlorinated pool, or a bubble filled tub, has brought me comfort. A certain tough to put my finger on, type of peace.

Swimming for two hours every day, brought me a kind of escape. A time, although often spent with a team, was also in many ways so individual too. It was a time where time, life, actually stopped for me. Was kind of put on hold, while I would swim my worries and stress and whatever else away. It was two hours of freedom. Just to be in the water brought on a feeling of relaxation and ease.

So, not being a "swimmer" anymore, or a competitive one at least, I miss it. The water, and its effect on me. Sometimes, when I just need a break from life and daily stuff, heavier things and sometimes not, I take a drive to the nearest place with water that I can get to.

A year and a half ago when a boyfriend of the time sent me the song "Goodbye My Lover" while I was at work, and told me that my "thank you" to the flowers he sent me was bullshit, I escaped. Left work at lunch, drove to a park, and sat on a bench in front of the water and cried. Afterwards I felt better.

In Myrtle Beach a little bit ago, I left my group of friends to take a walk on the beach, alone, for an hour. I brought along my ipod and headed off in no direction really, with my feet in the sand and salty water, and just went. It was a time where I could just be. Afterwards I felt refreshed. Rejuvenated and at peace.

Today during my lunch hour, I came to the river where I'll be swimming for the triathlon in a month. I walked by the Boulevard, found a quiet spot under a tree, and sat next to four ducks, and wrote in my journal. Afterwards I felt more relaxed, more balanced.

And this weekend, I'll be taking a family trip, eight of us, to a beautiful scenic place by the sea. Between family breakfasts, Father's Day activities, cocktails (because there will be some of that), I plan to take some time on my own. Away, by the ocean. A chance to gain some clarity and balance, some perspective and direction on things. Because that's what I do. I know that when I get feeling anxious or nervous, flustered and off balance, what I really need is some quality time around or in water.
Or with my mom, which will also be a bonus this weekend.

on intruders, and ex boyfriends

2007-06-12T20:12:00.000-04:00

I thought it was my worst nightmare come true. Because I'm very, very scared of burglars and things in the night, in the dark. Breakins and such. So when I got a text message, and a phone call, at 3am from my roommate, down the hall, I knew something was wrong. My heart raced, big time as I noticed the missed call. Woken out of a dead sleep, I picked up my cell phone off of my nightstand, flustered and not quite getting what was going on. Who the hell would be calling me right now? I didn't even have time to go through the list of possibilities, before a text message came through. She hadn't left a voicemail. I didn't even bother to read the text, I immediately called her back. No answer. Holy hell. Freakish scary things began going through my mind. I sat up straight in bed, hair in a wavy mess on top of my head, too warm from the humidy outside and having forgotten to open my window more.

She wasn't answering. I wasn't moving. Was someone in there? In our apartment, in her room? Did she call me in her only free minute to get away from some intruder? Oh my god. I was flipping out.
So I went to my inbox. Scrolled to the newest text.

"brookem i just saw a mouse oh man"

An intruder is right! I breathed a sigh of relief, in that moment, as I read the message. Because the intruder wasn't some bad bad man coming in with knives for fingers, or needles to inject my belly (because this does happen in real life, and clearly television gets the best of me). The intruder was of another sort. A small, furry? (are they furry?) sort.

So I finally made my way out of bed. This was all over the course of two minutes. This is dragging the drama out, but really, this is just how freaked I was by it all. Seriously. I don't do well with any type of intruder. (As if that wasn't apparent enough already.)

I made my way over to my roommates room, calling her name as I was walking towards her. No response. Holy hell, the mouse has gotten her. It's pitch black, I'm barefoot, I don't know where micey is, what if I encounter it? This is serious.

I get to her door, which I have to push open, as she has it barricaded now with Old Navy bags, shoes, and other paraphernalia. Because this will keep micey out, since she thinks she saw it leave.

She's in a ball on her bed. Fetal position style. I tip tow sprint to her bed. We both just look at each other. Seriously, in horror. Well where is it?! Are you sure you saw it? Did you hear it? What color is it? Did it wake you up?!

She was 95% sure she saw it. She had apparently woken up, looked towards her door, just in time to see sicko micey skrinkering away. Under her door. That nerve.

So now micey was on the loose, in the apartment. Out of her room, in the living room? The kitchen?
MY BEDROOM? No. It couldn't have gotten there already. Plus, my room is smaller, not as much hiding space there (or so I tell myself and roommate, now at 3:15am). We're trying to believe this. Micey is out of her room. She says she can't stay in her room. Alone. So we go back to my room. Flashlight in hand, two freaked out roommates, probably holding hands if I remember correctly, make their way across the apartment, back to my room. We hop in the bed. Fast. Cat like reflexes we get there that quick.

Of course we had to rehash all of this. How could this happen? Are we leaving cheese out? Why does he want to come in here? How did he get in? (Because by now, we just both knowingly determined it, is a he.)
"So you're sure you saw him??" "You're positive it's a mouse, right?" She thinks so. We're sweating now, anxious. Kind of laughing a spec too, because really, this would so happen to us. I decide to turn out the light, reluctantly. We don't hear anything, don't see anything, things seem safe enough at this point. We need to get some sleep, it's now almost 4am, we're getting up in mere hours.

"How do you feel?" I ask her. Because I know she was freaked. Oh god, not that I wasn't. But she is the one who encountered this intruder.

"I feel like I just saw an ex boyfriend. But this is worse."

And this, this is why I love this girl so much. No one else I know would come up with this so true connection. And I agreed wholeheartedly. This ensued a long winded conversation about ex boyfriends, to which we decided, we would prefer to see, encounter, the worst of the worst ex, over seeing this mouse on any day. We recalled boyfriends from the past, those that ended badly, those that didn't. Those that we still had feelings for maybe?, those that we were completely done with. And still, we concluded, seeing any of these men, over micey would be our total preference.

And that's pretty bad.

We finally got back to sleep. Kind of the one eye open type though. I got up at 6ish to run, and luckily didn't lay my eyes on any such micey beast. Thank GOD. Today, calls were made to Mr. Landlord, who says he will be supplying us with copious amounts of peanut butter, and traps. He wants to set up one in roommates room, to which we will, and are of course freaking out at the thought of. Co-workers tell me I just need to break this things neck. Which leaves me feeling so warm and fuzzy inside. Truly.

Holy hell to the day that we find this little sucker slammed down in a peanut butter mess. And you can be sure updates will be on the way.

tri'ng to find a spouse

2007-06-11T19:42:00.000-04:00

What was really encouraging today, as I was browsing through books at Barnes and Noble on triathlons, was this line in one of the books:

"Your biggest supporter in a triathlon will be your spouse."

SWEET.

going for it.

2007-06-11T07:08:00.000-04:00

So maybe I've seriously dabbled in swimming since I was 7 or 8 years old. And okay, maybe I've always just needed a reason to push myself a little harder when I'm running. And perhaps, maybe, it's time I put my sweet ass bike that I got as a graduation present in 2004 to good use.

(And obviously I need more excuses to buy cute workout apparel. But really, that's not the point. Although it is so true.)

Maybe there's a reason why I've always left things until the last minute. My old tendency to bust out 20 page research papers the night before they'd be due. Printing up random stats on clients minutes before a staff meeting. Buying baby shower gifts an hour before the par-tay. Because leaving it to the last minute is pretty much how I roll.

Perhaps this can just go to show that for the next month, it's game on. It's not heaps of time, but that's never really stopped me before.

So, here goes nothing. July 15, Triathloning here I come.
Woot!

And PS- Now I will be held accountable. Because I've confessed to all of you on this here blog. And, wicked importantly, and so deserving of many many heaps of thanks- Egan, my Triathlon guru/mentor, THANK YOU for the encouragement and the push I needed.

just different.

2007-06-10T12:05:00.001-04:00

As you may or may not know, I'm a girl who loves purses. Bags. All shapes and sizes, different colors for different ensembles. For all occasions. I'm all over it. I probably buy purses just about as often, if not sometimes more! (depending on the season), than shoes. Believe that!

There's always been something about a woman sifting through her purse that I have found I think, intriguing. Interesting. I have to watch it; if it's happening in front of me, I find I can't look away. What are they skrinkering around in there for? What will they come up with? My earliest memories of my infatuation with purse obsession go back to when I was a kid, sitting in church with my family or for school. I went to a Catholic grammar school up until 6th grade, uniforms! and knee socks all over the place. I remember going to church either during school, or on a weekend, and how excited I'd be for the collection time. Other than just for the good people watching in church, I would anxiously anticipate the collection because it meant for some good purse scenes going on, and that's what I loved.

I would watch as women, specifically I remember it being elderly women that I was really interested in, went through, shuffled around in the purse's inside hidden pockets. I was always so anxious to see what gem they might pull out in a quest to get to their money. A checkbook? Car keys? Red cakey lipstick? Maybe one of those rain, hair cap, things? You know the type, the ones that some older women wear when it's misty outside to cover up their just "set" hair? Anyway, this whole purse thing was a whole delight for me. It still is. It would offer me such a distraction. Make my imagination run wild wondering these women's stories. Take my mind away from another reading, or a song annoyingly sung by the choir, so out of tune. I loved this game.

Fittingly so, it's not surprising then, that almost 20 years later, I have this huge, strong, kind of freakish? affinity for purses and such. Having always been so interested in them, what you can fit in them, or hide, strategically, sneakily. This has been a long time thing for me. Admitting it is the first step, right?

*************************************

When I see my grandmother go through her purse, it's a different, not-wanting-to-look-away kind of feeling that occurs. Like back then, back in the church days when I was addicted to the whole purse scene, but now, different. Different because it's so close to home. I know this purse. Who it belongs to. It's story. It's no longer about imagining what this and that are for, where she lives and who she wakes up to every morning. It's what I already know about it all. What I know about her. Her story.

It's not a checkbook out of a red leather purse this time. It's not a set of keys from an embroidered clutch. Now it's a CVS receipt for a long list of prescriptions out of a Vera Bradley handbag. A grocery list to give to her daughter, since she's been a bit too weak lately to make it to the food store all on her own. It's several 'get well,' and 'thinking of you' cards that she's collected from the mailbox. Or a pretty scarf to wear on her head now that she's lost her hair.

It's a totally different set of items now. A completely different experience. Now, a not so fun at all type of feel to it all. This woman is no longer a stranger with no defined story, with a blank slate to life, with a story I can make up in my own mind and run with. It's a purse that represents so much more than just a silly handbag. It's a story, a life, of someone that I know and love.

It's a different feel now, this whole purse thing.

Skrinker:

2007-06-06T20:30:00.000-04:00

If you're not one of us, if you didn't actually make up the word and have been using it since 2003/2004, and to this day, then you probably don't know what skrinker means.

Basically, it's a verb. But I guess it could go noun too. To define it seems somewhat complex, but really it's not. Once you hear what it is and what it's all about you'll get it. And I'd like to see you use it. Implement it in your daily conversation; I dare you. It feels good.

With the recent questions surrounding the term, I figured I'd go straight to the source. I sent out an email recently to the girls, for their take on the definition, and asking them to use an example. Because examples are good, and if we're doing a little tutorial here it makes sense, right?

Definition 1- To me, the word skrinker means to kind of get in something. Move about, play around, tinker with, check out, make. For instance, I skrinker around in my closet for an outfit to wear on Friday. I'm skrinkering up some plans for the weekend. Let's go in the bedroom and skrinker. To me it just kind of takes on its own meaning based on the context it's used in. Noun form I'd probably say… "I made some dinner, but there's only a skrinker of it left so I'd whip something else up too."

Definition 2- ok well...i'd say skrinker is definitely a verb. it has many meanings. the primary meaning is something like 'sneaking around' or 'causing mischief'. like k definitely skrinkers when she's lookin online, or just bein herself. it can also mean to plan. or to put something together, like to organize a party ("we should skrinker some people over") or to make a meal ("i'm trying to skrinker something to eat outta these slim pickins"). i also have used it to mean 'slink' or 'traipse' like when someone enters the room in some notable way. another one is "to look for." like, if someone was digging around in a drawer, you might ask "what are you skrinkerin' over there?"
i really could go on for pages and pages. but i guess those are the main ways i use the word skrinker. it's an excellent word, one i will proudly use, whether my audience knows what the fuck i'm talking about or not.

Definition 3- Here goes nothing:
skrinker: To move about with no apparent direction e.g. "K had nothing to do last weekend, so she just skrinkered around Worcester on Saturday." Also, it could be used to describe a mischievous person, possibly that weird guy at the corner of the bar looking to cause trouble. This would prompt a lean-over to a friend, saying, "Look at that random skrinkerer over there. You can tell he's up to no good." However, it does not have to only describe a person, for example, it can describe ideas. If you have a lot going on, you can be said to "have a lot of different thoughts skrinkering around in your head." In which case, I guess a good synonym would be "meandering."

Definition 4- I thought about what skrinker means (by the way, it ain't in the dictionary from what I can see):It means to mosey around and sometimes do random non describable activities - such as 'skrinkering online' - What? I guess just meaning lookin around and scoping scenes. K always comes to mind when I hear the word skrinker. It reminds me of being a little sneaky/discreet about what you're doing - not in a bad way, just in a silly way. That's how I see it :)

Definition 5- I'm sure the other girls have already covered everything about 'skrinker,' but here's my definition. skrinker: 1. to mosey around without a particular direction or purpose. In the setting of a day when someone doesn't have to do anything, and really doesn't plan on it, that person would be "skrinkering around" usually I think about it in the context of staying in your apt or house in your pj's and watching TV. To skrinker involves minimal movement. That is the main way in which I would think of 'skrinker'; 2. however I would also use it meaning to make something out of minimal resources. Kind of like Magiver, but with a lazy connotation. ex. instead of going out to eat we skrinkered together some dinner. You could also use it referring to an outfit or a cocktail, anything someone would normally want to put effort into making. Those are the two ways I would think of skrinker; however I'm sure it's been used in many more circumstances.

Definition 6- skrink-er \skrĭng'kər\, verb, skrink-ered, skrink-er-ing
-Verb:
1. To wander aimlessly.
2. To maneuver around in a sly manner. You may or may not have a purpose in doing so.
—Related forms
skrink-er-er, noun
skrink-er-ing-ly, adverb
-Noun:
T's the definition of a skrinkerer. A skrinkerer can be good or bad depending on who he/she is. Trina is a good skrinkerer. A bad skrinkerer is someone up to no good (i.e. the smelly drunk guy at the MB bar). A bad skrinkerer is mischievous and can cause annoyance, harm, and/or trouble.
My question is this:
Now that we know what skrinker means, what is a skrink?

And there you have it. Thank you to my wonderful girlfriends for their own takes on the word. Now you blogbuds know a spec more about my title here.

Happy Wednesday!

wicked chaud and sticky

2007-06-05T21:29:00.000-04:00

I'm sitting here in my undies and a tank top, drinking a glass of red wine on this dank night. Maybe that's more info that you needed or wanted. But damn is it hot. And humid. I want West Coast weather on days like this. When I go and visit my dad, it can be a day that's almost 100, but there, it's wicked dry and doesn't feel like 100. Here, 100 would be downright oppressive. Humid and buggy and sticky. Ick.

Tonight I went food shopping. (I call it food shopping, never grocery shopping) The little old lady at work tells me I should go in the mornings, to meet a "nice man." I really don't have time for that in the morning, but I'll tell you that at night, at 8PMish in the evening, not much really goes down at a local Shaws. I had most aisles to myself, except for a couple employees, teenage employees specifically, flirting with each other, putting random items away. Yogurts were 20/$10. Tell me, who buys that many yogurts? The deli guy was especially friendly, and I could tell under his hat that he had a good head of hair. I got flustered trying to decide what kind of turkey to get, and picking out bananas took me way too long.

Did I mention that my landlord finally said yes to a kitten?! You read that right. Holy hell, it's about time. And I couldn't be more excited. (I want no comments on my lack of skills in fish caretaking please!) So I'm on a mission. And let me just tell you, holding a kitten has been scientifically proven (based on my experimentation), to raise my day from a 4 to a 7.

Saturday I'm going to a baby shower for my college roommate. And at night I'm going to see Feist. Who's heard of her?

My grandmother is getting her second round of chemo tomorrow. She's feeling good right now, so it's hard to see her sign up to get this shit poison put into her precious body. But I guess it needs to do it's job, and we're hoping this time around the side effects won't be as rough. Friday I overheard her tell someone that I'm "her pride and joy," and I had myself a little moment right then and there.

I'm finding I'm watching way too much Lifetime as of late. With all the good shows off the air, really, what's a girl to do? TLC is also showing tons of Miami Ink which I just love, because of the time I met and got my picture taken with those studs. And the new season starts next week so at least that's something to look forward to.

And if this doesn't go down for one of the most scattered posts ever, I don't know what does.

do you hear the THUNDER?

2007-06-03T22:02:00.001-04:00

Anyone ever watch that show, I think it was on either VH1 or MTV, one of those casting type specials, looking for male strippers? For the "Australian Male Revue" which would come to be known as the Thunder from Down Under (ha), and would end up being featured as a regular show in Vegas. Well I watched it. Obviously. Back then I lived with three other girls and really what better way to occupy a weeknight than watching a casting special such as this.

I remember the show from back then, and when I heard on the radio a couple weeks ago that they were touring around here!, I was interested. Mainly just because I had watched the whole process, not because I'm really into strippers and such. Frankly I think those guys are pretty big meatheads. But I was still intrigued by it all, and when I was coming back from the beach last weekend with my good friend who works for a local radio station and I heard the ad for the show that was going on in RI, imagine my amusement when she told me she could hook me up with some free tickets! Woot!

I wasn't totally sure what to expect. Would there be tables that we'd be seated at, where the oiled up men would come dance around us, with us, on us, and we'd slip $1 bills into sketchy places? Would we get lap dances? How much would they bare? Turns out, we were in this big event center type place, housed in a casino. Because we were going with a radio station we had free VIP access before the show which included appetizers and adult beverages all for free. Our seats weren't the greatest, but we could still see enough. It was basically just a group of these men, busting moves to Justin Timberlake like songs, Save a Horse Ride a Cowboy combinations, doing their little routines, some coming into the audience, all the while, wearing knee pads. Yes, knee pads, which I thought was odd. There were tons and tons of women just all over the place, and lots of bachelorette parties really into it all. Women with veils going up on stage, best fake orgasm contests, who can shake their ass best, etc.

It was definitely a fun night. Almost more fun to watch some of these skanky women in their ass bearing dresses, shaking it in hopes of a stripper coming over to THEM!, ohmygod!

I couldn't help but thinking, as some of these women were up on stage, some of these brides to be, how I would feel if I were their fiances. I'm all for going on a girls night out for a bachelorette type affair, but some of this stuff was kind of bordering on lewd. Gross really. These women going up there, the men actually grabbing and fondling their breasts, them making the girls grab their junk!, it was almost a bit disturbing. You have to wonder, if these girls are okay with partaking in this whole scene, would they be equally okay if they knew their fiances were out doing the same thing?

Ah, anyway. It was a wild night and one to go down in the books. Also one of those kind of things where once you've seen it one time, you've seen it all.

she's baaaack

2007-05-31T17:54:00.001-04:00

It was that easy breezy beautiful kind of summer. I was 18? Maybe 19. Summer break before Junior Year of college. It was the year I met her, working at the air force base together, my stint as a shredder. Take that literally. I spent half of my day in a room to small to be a room, more like a closet. AC blasting, surrounded by heaps and heaps (for you Egan) of to-be-shredded paper. The other half of the day I spent next to her, in a cube that wasn't really a cube, no divider at least, doing some kind of computer work that I didn't understand, but really actually, emailing each other. Even though we were at an arms length from each other we'd script out lengthy emails about our summer nights with friends, boy friend issues and mishaps, and about what we should order for lunch. A trip to the Dunkin Donuts on base was our daily ritual. Sitting in her old school Buick, we'd make our way to just streets away to fill ourselves up on iced coffees. This was before the Simon and Garfunkel and Oasis renditions. Before we were legally old enough to buy our own booze. It was a time of curfews or rather breaking them, and dating a guy who was older than me that my father thought was too old. I loved life that summer. Work was easy and we were out by 3:30pm. It was when nights were thought to be cool when they were spent in Target's stationary or movie department. We'd go to the mall after, and frequently hit Sully's Ice cream for a frappe on our way home. It was that type of summer that you don't want to end, not that you ever want summers to really end. Going back to school, as exciting as it was to be the year of turning 21, and back to roommates and parties and a free gym, was sad in a way, in a new way. It was the summer I met one of my very best friends. The type you know right then and there will be one of those lifelong friends. Distance like West Virginia to Mass didn't matter then as much as France to Boston-ish hasn't mattered now. You vow to keep in touch with these type of friends because they have worked their way into your heart and you can't possibly imagine losing that link. So you email and call and you do what you gotta do to make it work. The friendship, it works because it's become so much a part of you that without it you'd be missing a piece of yourself that has grown to love this person. So you babysit her fish for nine months. They start out as 35 and she comes home to 5, but that's okay because you tried she says. And at 4:37pm on a Thursday that isn't going so hot, you receive a phone call from her and she's in the same! time! zone! She's home. And just like around this time in 2001, again you've got that feeling that this will be a good summer.

renewing this lease

2007-05-30T23:03:00.001-04:00

So tomorrow night is the presentation to the class on blogging. And seriously, lest it seem I've got things under control at this here blog, understanding what's what, throwing up pictures here and there, whipping out a new "profile picture," let me just clarify. I do not. Understand the whole blogging thing fully. I don't get by easy on here. I can post and sometimes even figure out tags!, but really? look at these digs in comparison of some of the new layouts on the block.

The thing is, I don't really care. (I mean about my own "look" changing. I just love all your looks. Seriously. Very trendy and hip.) But about mine. I'm all set. I probably won't change my layout, or server? (is that what it'd be called if I switched to typepad or something?), anytime soon. I'm all for embracing change but dear lord. Not happening with this puppy anytime soon. I mean seriously I just renewed my lease in my apartment another year and that's really all the moving talk I can handle. And even that wasn't a move move. It was an agreement to stay put. Which is what I'm going to be doing here. With blogger. For quite some more time, heat and hot water not included.

So I haven't compiled any handouts like suggested. A one pager with definitions and sites and how to's. But I'll do my best to bust out, to a group of wonderful writers and now new friends, what exactly my idea of a blog is (these poor people!), and how really, this stuff is where it's at.

**UPDATE**
It went just fine tonight. I talked about blogger (represent!), and typepad. Wordpress and blog.com. Indiebloggers and even livejournal?! (Does anyone really use that anymore?) They just asked a couple questions. "Is this the same as myspace?" and "What if someone steals your work and tries to publish it?" All in all it went well. And thank you blogbuds/studs for your good luck wishes!

fragile

2007-05-29T20:25:00.000-04:00

Things I know to be true:

-Life is too short

-And not fair

-Tequila and I do not a good combo make

-My mother can always make me smile

-Fish don't live forever

-Neither do loved ones

-And they are often taken away way, way too soon

-Lindsey Lohan is out of control. Seriously.

-You can rarely find flights to the West Coast for as sweet of a deal as I recently did

-Divorce can really complicate things within a family

-Watching someone close to you go through something awful, and not being able to make it better for them is really heartbreaking

-Candles always make things seem a little better for me

-A good dose of sun can do wonders for the soul

-Some people just really want someone to listen. Like the little old lady that I visited tonight.

-The saying "things happen for a reason," as much as I try and use it/believe it/live it, does not always make sense.

relish

2007-05-28T16:43:00.000-04:00

There's nothing like a good cookout to kickoff the summer.

Happy Memorial Day!

2007-05-26T21:16:00.001-04:00

reason # 737, 738, 739, & 740 on why keeping in contact with an ex is a bad idea:

2007-05-26T09:07:00.000-04:00

-because no matter how many times you try and tell yourself that things have changed, a person, really doesn't change. this you know to be true.

-what seems like a good idea at the time will, inevitably end up kicking you in the ass the next day, and for the several days following that.

-it's really not helpful to be reminded of the song that he hears to this day that still reminds him of you.
oh, or to rehash the time at your old apartment, when no one was around, that thing that you two did. that he thinks is so hot, and oh by the way, just so happened to mention to his buddies the other day. really, what the fuck?

-and most importantly:
The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

quirkiness

2007-05-25T13:25:00.000-04:00

perpetually forgetting if my straightener is turned off
the heart tattoo on my foot that I share with two of my best friends
how I drink milk with everything. pizza, beer, and milk (don't hate).
my propensity to attract men of middle eastern/brazilian decent, particularly who work at dunkin donuts
being known as the girl who will always have the camera
never being able to remember a joke, no matter how hard I laughed or how many times I've heard it
my affinity for men with a good head of hair, and layered clothing. oh, and those that are somewhat musically inclined. and that wear appropriate shoes.
the way I bite my lower lip when I'm nervous
how I prefer shades of blues, bright ones
needing to talk to my mom once a day
how a baby can always brighten my mood. the tops of their heads, and their smell especially.
my need for spontaneity in any type of relationship
my nose ring from junior year of college
jil sander sun as my signature scent (damn that it's discontinued!)
the color fuchsia/muavish & deep pinks
my ability to dish out relationship advice yet still end up constantly questioning my own love life
having to burn a candle and have nice lighting after a hard day
being the "planner" or "starter" of the group
my tendency to favor names with a hard "c" or "k" sound—connor, mkenzie, coley, kirk, kaylee
how I never remember to bring my contact case with me anywhere and therefore have to use makeshift devices for storage. = shot glasses.
always needing lipgloss, and a pen on my person
opting to sit to someone's left. particularly in movie theaters. I turn right.
how I'm prone to sneeze at the sun, and how my blue eyes crave sunglasses always. even in snow. especially around snow.
mixing ½ gatorade, ½ water
how I love greeting cards
swimming, life guarding, swim lessons, and how the water is so me
my aversion to most things seafood related. even though I'm from new england.
my weakness for a good bag of salty frito's, men in uniform. firemen I think especially. okay and cops.
how completely unacceptable and unattractive I find chipping nail polish

this blogging thing and new friendships

2007-05-23T23:19:00.000-04:00

You start this blogging thing for yourself. To get your ideas out there, have an outlet for the stuff that floats around in your head, and heart, on a daily basis. I started this bad boy not knowing a whole hell of a lot about how things work here. And now my writing instructor is asking me, go figure?, to explain to the class what the blogging phenomenon is all about.

Which I suppose I could start out by saying what I just did. Why I started, how I feel a sense of community with this whole thing. How it's just a whole nother thing to get your writing out there, in a public forum and kind of let go of stuff, in that way. The support and feedback you get from others through this way. I could talk about how to start a blog, how to funkify it all with headers and all that crazy jazz (which I clearly keep to a basic minimum seeing as how the wordpress switch caused me to need a drink on contact with the mere thought of it). I could talk about the pros and cons of blogging, but what I really, really want to say about it all right now, is the opportunity to meet amazing people through this way.

I knew when I left for my trip to Myrtle Beach last week that I was going to miss this place. Reading about new digs and food gems, vacations in Spain, looming babies and clogged drains, girlie things and shoes, top ten lists, kids birthday parties and facepainting. And I knew I was going to be meeting Brooke, one of my first ever blogging friends, and one of the big reasons this blog that I was starting back in August just felt to totally make sense.

There are those type of friends that you meet in college, or high school even. Those you make an instant connection with, that have seen you through your best and worst times, breakups and breakthroughs. They're the clichéd friends that you would call at 3am on the rare occasion that you aren't already together. These are the ones that I had the luxury of vaca-ing with last weekend. And what a freaking great vaca it was. The weather was to die for, the beach was beautiful, our place was the bomb, it was all just so perfect.

There are the friends I traveled with, and then there are friends of a different type. Ones you don't see often, but when you do it just feels like no time at all has passed. Or maybe you haven't even met yet, but when you do, it just feels so comfortable in a way that you could only hope for. Thank god for blogging for the fact that I met my long lost twin sister. We swear we share DNA. From the name similarities, to the little things we continue to find in common with each other. From our music choices to drink selections. The tv shows we both like, and our affinity for being attracted to the same type of guy (ahem). You know when you just meet someone and it just feels like your paths were meant to cross? As though certain things happened in life to direct you toward each other? Well that's how it felt when I "met" her back several months ago. Through letters and phonecalls I have gotten to know this amazing girl that I cannot come up with enough wonderfullness for. So Saturday when we finally got to meet meet, it didn't surprise me in the least that it just had that real real comfortable, fun, easy feel to it all. The kind of feeling you get when you hang with an old friend, an old comfortable friend. That feeling like everything is just really right and you're happy and like there's no place you'd rather be that with these type of friends. Because they get you and it's just this indescribeable bond.

So in a couple weeks, in my writing class, I'm going to talk about what a blog is and how it all works. How you start one, why it's a good thing, what can suck about it. (Because I am Miss Blog Know How; you can call me that now, thanks.) But what I really want to show love for right now is the amazing group of people I've met through this whole thing. I'm laying on the cheese factor here, I know. I'll stop. I just really like all of this, all of you. And that I got to meet someone I consider one of my closest friends from all of this, well that's just pretty damn sweet.

beach trip

2007-05-17T17:56:00.000-04:00

For the next five days, I'll be vaca-ing in sunny Myrtle Beach. Go figure, it's bike week there too. Because that's how me and ma' ladies roll.

I've said that I like me a man in uniform, but not so sure about this look:
HOT BIKER
Hmm.
And also like a good head of hair but this is edging on catching up to my length.
So hot.

Anyway, hope that all you blogbuds of mine have a good weekend! Is it weird that I'm feeling like I'm going to miss this forum, pretty big time?

TV men

2007-05-14T19:21:00.000-04:00

Lately I have been thinking about the leading men in the TV shows that I like to watch. I mean, let's face it, I made a list of all the men on TV I sweat, and damnit, there's quite a few! I'm sure I even forgot some.

Some of them are bad asses, which I suppose is their appeal. Some of them are just too good, which would be a turnoff, if they weren't so damn adorable. Some don't even know they're hot. There's the one's who cheats, the guy that blows things up, tries to save the world and/or lives. Those that just want off of the island.

Without further ado (because I know you're dying to know my thoughts on this one) let's do a little rundown, shall we?

24- So Jack Bauer is obviously a badass. He means business and people shut the eff up when he tells them to. He's pretty good looking, right? And more so because of his authority, I think. All he has to do is say his name and the masses will listen. I'd date him. Date. Long term relationship potential isn't so good there. He's too high risk.
Milo just creeps me out. Morris is kind of attractive yet needs to tend to the button down shirt with no tee-shirt underneath situation he has going on. Cover up some, stud. You know this girl likes layering.

Lost- Oh I'm a Sawyer girl damn straight. You thought Jack? Nope, too stuck up lately. Sure Sawyer's killed a couple guys; he's a con artist, just killed Locke's daddy- I'm saying whatever to all of that. I'm down. He's hot and really, what girl wasn't turned on by that initial scene of him and Kate getting it on?
Jack's lost my interest. I liked him more as Charlie on Party of Five (you know you loved that show too). He's too cocky. In a way that turns me off. And I guess he's into Juliet. Whatever.
Jin seems kind of sweet though right? He's killed some people too. Little bit of a language barrier we'd have ourselves there. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing either. Hmm. Attractive, but probably not a good match.

The Hills- Oh yeah, I'm going there. Only to say that both leading guys suck. Spencer, well that speaks for itself. Complete ass. Not even attractive. Jason reminds me too much of a guy I once dated, and he keeps getting arrested. It would never work.

Grey's Anatomy- Really, I think they're all swell to look at. But beyond that? There's really nothing there I'd totally go for. George is growing on me, yet he's married (although that doesn't seem to have phased him in the past). Seems like a really good friend type.
Dreamy... eh, not sure. Good looking enough. Knows it though. And really, Meredith is so freaking whiny; if that's what he's into, then a good match he and I would NOT make. Burke is very attractive. A little into himself, but I think that may work for me. Alex, eh. Been there done that type of guy. All set.

Sex and the City- I know it's over, but come on, did you think I wouldn't go there?
Aidan well he's pretty much the package right there. I'm digging that shit. I like his job, his height, his hair. His wanting to wait to sleep with Carrie. How he's a homebody. His dog Pete. All good things. My top choice by far.
Berger. Funny, right? Totally dig that. Seems to have some ex issues. And the post it note breakup situation. Lord help him. I reward him no points, and may God have mercy on his soul. (big bonus points to a blogbuddy who can name that movie reference!)
Big. Attractive. Perpetually unavailable though, huh? Or available at the wrong time. Been here too. These relationships have that indescribable appeal to them. I don't know, not sure about this one, long term.
And sweet Steve. The underdog right? Very funny, silly. A little too silly, sometimes. But cute, and sweet. And just loves Miranda. To death. Which is really, very very endearing. I think he'd make a good husband. Not necessarily seeing it happening though for me. (I love how I'm acting as though I'm on the Bachelorette, choosing, like for real, marriage... with a tv character.)

And just for a back in the day reference, Felicity.
Because I loved Ben. Very attractive. Sweet. Really into her, big time. Rough around the edges and I like that. Good hair. Hot.

Lastly, a show I watched only an episode of because clearly I have enough shows to keep up with already....
October Road- I don't even know his name on the show, but know he's hot. Definition of a guy I'd be into. Totally. All I know is that he's good looking and dresses well. That's all I know and I'll go on that.

So there's my rundown of prime time tv's leading men that I'm into. Basically I'd like an Aidan, with a side of Ben and Sawyer, dressed like the guy whose name I don't know, with a Burger sense of humor, a Steve sweetness, a Jack Bauer assertiveness, and a George innocence/friend quotient. I don't think that's too much to ask for. This is my game after all.

on those girl crushes...

2007-05-12T10:56:00.000-04:00

After writing the post the other day on girl crushes, I surveyed a few more of my friends (still working on the guys), and here's a gem of a quote from my good friend B:

"I would have to say someone I know...it would be my friend Lauren's sister in law. She is a lawyer, very smart, very classy, always put together, always looks perfect, but not snooty and stuck up, a runner, has a golden retriever, and is married to Lauren's brother who is like a child in a 30 year old man's body...so that makes her all the more normal for a rich lawyer who lives in Alexandria, Virginia. I can only hope I'm that confident and put together someday!"

It's like rain on your wedding day

2007-05-11T23:56:00.000-04:00

Even if you are coupled up, you can imagine this. I know you can get this scene. Because even when you're coupled, you remember your single times. Nights spent in bars surrounded by your friends and/or random couples all over each other, ohsohappily in love. RSVPing as a single to a wedding because you certainly aren't going to bring the person you're just casually dating (or doing whatever with), to your Uncle's wedding. You remember these times. They were big parts of your single years, so I know you'll get this.

Tonight I was all around couples and love and engagements and happiness. First it was dinner with a college friend who has apparently found happiness with Mr. Long Distance Man. Sure long distance isn't ideal, but for them it is working because it has to, for now. And she seems happy, and they're cute in their posted pictures online, and all seems really so good.

Later in the evening it was at one of my dearest friend's new condo. With her fiance. I'm in this wedding one year from now, and really, I couldn't be happier for them. He's just about one of the greatest guys ever, and she deserves that, truly. I just love this girl to pieces and she deserves this happiness.

So in I walk with my 18 pack of Coors Light, bust right into that and they're going down like water on this humid night, and I begin chatting with my dear friend's sister. Who I'm also friends with. Who, what do you know, is also engaged. And she seems happy, and they're giggly as he's tickling her and she's showing me her gorgeous ring and that's really fine as I reach for more Sunchips.

Oh and now I'm hearing wedding bells actually ringing as happy in love couple number three comes in. Also engaged. On to the next beer I realize, as I hear, "do you have a date" tossed among happily coupled up partners, that I am the only single in a group of 7. This doesn't totally phase me, I even chuckle a bit to the thought of this scenario as chug another sip. Truth be told, I'm neither ecstatic or depressed about it all. It's the facts and I'm having a good time and so it goes. I am that friend that can mix well in these situations and damn it I'm happy for these people.

And for single to slap me in the face just a few more times, let's discuss the ride home. First it was getting lost, and ending up in the exact neighborhood, pretty spot on to the guy who ever so casually blew me off a few weeks ago. And that's as fine as can be, because it's a breezy night and Van Morrison is blaring and really what bad mood comes from Van Morrison? None I tell you. Things are fine.

And then it's the truck that pulls up right next to me. The same exact truck that an ex from years, long long time ago years, drove to a wedding that we once attended. And left to get freaky yo', in the back of that beast. And so my friends now joke, "when the truck's a rockin..."

Still fine, and when three men pull right up next to me now in motorcycles, the same one that a certain far off friend took me for a ride on this summer, I'm really pulled together and feeling great and loving life, like totally.

And I make it home, pull in the driveway, and now I'm just feeling like bed is screaming my name. And it's hot and it's humid and fuck I dropped my keys. Where's the damn hallway light? My contacts need out. I need in, my bed. Right now. I feel like my drive home soundtrack should have been Alanis Moorisette's Ironic even though I don't even like her music, it's just fitting right? Instead it's more of the Coldplay variety which is fine, swell really, but perhaps a little too mellow. And when I accidentally hit 96.1 and get Delilah I just about throw up in my mouth a little.

So I get inside, slip into this new ditty I got to wear to bed. And I never, I mean pretty freakin rarely, do I sign online anymore. And the clincher of all of this, after months of time to move on, even more than a year really, is getting an IM from that ex. Really because why not wrap it all up with a conversation with him, right? Because on a night like this, it all seems to just have that way of not surprising me in the freaking least.

I Am From

2007-05-08T19:50:00.000-04:00

I am from Maine, and am often called a maniac
I am from two parents who think I'm pretty damn special (read: an only child)
I am from the 80's
I am from a full kitchen, clean clothes, and a warm bed
I'm from big hair, stone washed jeans, scrunchies, leg warmers, and snap bracelets
I am from family cookouts, Irish bread, American Chop Suey and boiled dinners
I am from a cottage at the beach
I'm from Fourth of July cookouts, and shopping at Trading Posts
I am from the Friday Night Lineup/TGIF of Full House, Family Matters, Boy Meets World, and Step by Step
I am from carefree summers, life guarding by a pool
I am from four grandparents, all still alive today
I am from the school of thought that kids should eat their veggies and drink milk with dinner
I am from please and thank you
I'm from a swing set in the backyard, not the fancy kind, and my childhood bike that was stolen
I am from tea and Manhattans
I am from games of Go Fish, Solitaire, War, and Poker
I'm from The Price is Right, Wheel of Fortune, and Jeopardy
I am from uniforms until grade six, nuns too
I am from baking, and Christmas carols
I am from an Irish family, compassion for others, and corn beef
I am from setting the table, sharing, and a canopy bed
I'm from any excuse to celebrate, birthday parties for pets, and leaf raking parties included
I am from skin that freckles within five minutes of sun exposure, and burns hell of a lot too
I am from permed hair, and overly hair sprayed bangs
I'm from biting my lips, eating when stressed, and hiding m&m's in my pockets
I am from a long line of worriers, and I'm pretty bad
I am from a Catholic college, and beer pong in the quad
I am from my mother, my best friend, who I tell everything
I'm from my dad who I share the same hands and feet with, whose little girl I will always be
I am from homemade apple pies, make-your-own Sundays, and homemade chocolate chip cookies, from scratch
I'm from a childhood that's had more ups than downs, more good times than bad, more laughs than tears, that's made me who I am today.

watermelon

2007-05-05T16:11:00.000-04:00

is the color of new new blog theme.

i've always loved a good green/pink combo. the other one before this had it, but i figured, you know, for may/spring/my bday weekend, i'd spruce it up a bit.

and here you have it.
happy weekend!

Girl Crush

2007-05-03T17:59:00.000-04:00

Listening to the radio this morning on my way into work, the dj's were talking about how Blake and Chris seem to have a little man love going on. Apparently Chris has said that he'd "go home" for Blake. And they really seem to have quite the tight friendship going on. The dj's were saying it's pretty much a BFF, teenage girl thing they got going. This got me thinking…

About girl crushes.

Girl Crush
Feelings of admiration and adoration which a girl has for another girl, without wanting to shag said girl. A nonsexual attraction, usually based on veneration at some level.
Related to boy crush.
(urbandictionary.com)

In college, there was this one girl who I referred to as my "girl crush." She was this really tall girl, long brown hair. Whenever I saw her, she'd be laughing and smiling. I always saw her seeming happy and positive. This girl knew how to have fun, and she was also intelligent. She could pound beers with the rest of us, yet still make it to her 8am class looking sassy and refreshed. She had a core group of friends that she hung with, and whether it was a class we had together, or running into each other at the gym, she was always real friendly. Nice. Never not smiling. And we didn't even really know each other. She was just a friendly, warm person. And I had a girl crush on her.

So this was all in a very non sexual type way, obviously. Clearly I'm
~~wicked hot for~~ very much into the male gender. So women have girl crushes. I wonder, do men understand this? Seems to me when I've mentioned a girl crush to a guy friend before, they go wild with makeout, porno wild, sexual fantasies. Asking questions of whether I've ever madeout with a girl? And would I? Do I like boobs? And have you and your roommate ever kissed?

But it's not about that. A girl crush, to me, it's not about that kinda thing at all. Yes, if I was to go for a girl, I'd probably pick a girl crush of mine. Usually they exude a vibe I'd be into, if I was, into girls. To me, a girl crush is based on a level of attraction, a vibe they give off. Usually my girl crushes demonstrate a sense of confidence, intelligence, beauty, and kindness. And it's about the way a girl presents herself. Carries herself. For me, she's classy and down to earth. It's not about wanting to shag her, it's just about a sense of admiration more than anything. You know, it's about qualities I admire in someone else.

Like Charlize Theron. Or Jen Aniston (we're on a nickname basis, her and I). Both attractive women, no doubt, and both just give off a good vibe. Two definite girl crushes.

And I know that guys have man crushes too. They probably aren't as open to talking about it as women are. Maybe they get weirded out by it? Feel less, manly?, talking about it? Then again, I had an ex who was obsessed with some wrestling champion guy (I won't say his full name on here, lest he google search him and opps?, happen upon my blog). But clearly, there we had a very serious guy crush situation going on . Perhaps a little too extreme.

Anyway! So...

Ladies, who are your girl crushes?
And guys? C'mon. We know you have them, let's hear it.

May

2007-05-02T18:04:00.000-04:00

Have you ever started writing something, on a topic you wanted to write about, thought, "oh this a good blog would make!," and yet, when it comes right down to it, it's not making a good blog? The writing is turning out choppy and run-ony. You find you're using too many puns, too much cliché, and the point of what you really wanted to say, is just totally lost. At least it's not evident in your writing. You strive to write evocative things. Like that time you busted out something in your writing class that people gave really good feedback on. You want to write, because it's been days, but you're finding you're hitting backspace more often than not, and highlighting whole sentences and going for delete on contact.
So you end up not writing, on your blog at least, for a day or two, or a few days, sometimes a week. Because whenever you try to write, you get the feeling something is missing. Or maybe that's just how you felt about the last guy you were dating. Things seem confusing and the idea of writing about you being an only child just seems altogether dumb now. So you paint your nails, shop online and buy a new pair of shoes, and come back. To the computer, or your journal. Because sometimes you find when you write not at your computer but at your favorite Barnes and Noble, in your journal, things come easier to you. A different kind of flow there. Especially when you can do some people watching. So you try that, but still, it's all seeming hard and tough and that's not how this writing thing you love so much should feel like.
So you think that maybe you're mind is just a little too full right now. With birthday plans, boy or lack thereof uncertainty, which two Idols will be booted tonight, why it's so freezing in your office, etc. So you decide that perhaps this just isn't happening, not today at least. And you know you can't really force it. Tomorrow is a new day, and it's May now, a good month, so things will happen. More writing will happen soon because it's May, and you like May.

the before, where it's still really good.

2007-04-27T17:43:00.000-04:00

When it's at it's best, it can be really good. It's all about firsts. First phone call from him, first voicemail, first time out together, first kisses. Planning. Outfits, fun outings. How to wear your hair. Purchases. New undies, thongs. New shoes. A manicure and soon to be regular pedis. Excitement. Looking forward to your evening calls, to doing new things together, planning to try new things together, anticipating them.

Gushing to your friends about it all the next day. Where he took you, how he had it all planned out and how you liked that. A guy that has a plan in mind = good change for you. You tell them how funny he is, how the conversation just flowed. How you kissed him first at that martini bar and how good that felt. You're excited but don't want to be too excited. Because you know about jinxing and you don't want to do any of that. But you still share the details. How cute you thought it was when he made conversation with the cab driver, how he asked you questions and seemed genuinely interested in your life, your family and friends. How he asked for a story about each of your rings. It's a new kind of feeling for you and a good one at that. You share details about how you liked how he was donning not white gym socks, but appropriate, man socks, with his man shoes. How he said he liked your lipgloss.

When it's new and going well, it's fun and exciting. It's about the anticipation and the novelty of it all. Learning someones little quirks, him learning yours, and the realization that things are actually going well. Maybe even somewhere. Perhaps. Who knows? But it's fun.

When it's not as much at it's best, but when it's the opposite, it's not fun. When it's at it's worst, and I'm talking about new dating, not relationship stuff here, it's all the opposite. It's turned somewhat into another type of the waiting game. Because plans aren't being made they are being canceled. And phonecalls in the evening aren't happening, not with him at least. With your friends, asking if there's any update? Have you talked? But you haven't heard, from him, still. And now it's gone from two fun weeks of new undies, new shoes, plans, and dates, back to what once was.

Which isn't bad at all. It never was. You've loved single. In fact you're more used to the before than the two week time frame of fun with him. Which doesn't take away from the fun you did have, because you did. Have fun. With him. For that time it was good. Real good. New, and nice. And if the nice and the new kept going on, kept going good like it was and continued so for some time, then you would be willing to reevaluate the before. The single. For the right timing, person, and circumstances, you would let the before go. It's just a feeling when you know it's right, and that feeling has to be there.

Anyway.

And although it seems weird and you don't understand it, all the analyzing in the world, with your girlfriends over martinis on a weeknight, isn't going to make that phone ring. It doesn't really answer the questions you're asking. It will leave you tipsy and probably a little resentful. Because you end up questioning yourself and him. And we all know how this goes after three key lime martinis. It goes no where good. You know you should just take the time for what it was, fun and new and exciting. You have new shoes to show for it, some fun times behind you and some happy little memories to deposit into the dating bank. And well, it's in the past now and you're back to square one. Which is all very fine because square one, you're used to. Square one is familiar territory.

Because who knows, maybe he'll call you tomorrow, or next week or in a month. Or maybe not at all. But waiting for it or willing it to happen doesn't make it happen. And there may very well be a good reason. You hope so at least. That nothing is seriously wrong or anything like that. Because bottom line, it just is what it is.

This is dating and at it's best it has potential to be exciting and fun.

At it's worst it at least reminds you that the before was really good too.

thoughts of my day

2007-04-26T18:20:00.000-04:00

this post inspired me to whip up a list of my own...

thoughts that i have had today.

here you have some of the wild stuff that goes on inside my crazy head:
i wish it wasn't going to rain this weekend
i really want some new shoes. like asap.
peep toe pumps specifically.
i wish i was made of money
there are two concerts i want to see
nelly furtado and jt
i have not enough money to afford both, let alone probably one
why is he staring at me?
way too much perfume lady!
you need to shave
would he change his mind now, if i asked to get a kitten?
not having my morning coffee really sucks
why can't i write like her?
i really need a haircut
do brown and grey go together?
i wonder if heidi is still living with spencer...
i wish i had tivo to tape alec baldwin on the view tomorrow
i'll be 25 next week
how come people view evites and don't respond?
i haven't been to one of my favorite martini bars in a while, we're overdue
i want to hangout with david schwimmer
i wouldn't be able to function well, at all, without my ipod gabes.
eb's wishlist that time was really cool.
i wish i had the power to transport myself from one place to another
because i hate traffic.
why hasn't he called?
she's really lucky
this shirt shrunk
i need a mani/pedi combo, thanks
that library book from last year is really overdue, still
im excited for grey's tonight
but im going to miss it.
a simple thank you to my birthday message to him would have been appropriate.
i need to stop picking my nails when i'm nervous. it's really kinda gross.
my skin's dry
i wish i could go to that beer tasting with them tonight that i told them about
i really don't want to stop and get grapes for tonight
i could fall asleep right now. for the night, and it's 6:20pm

The big C

2007-04-25T20:44:00.000-04:00

Earlier today I wrote a whole post about cancer. And how much it fucking sucks. And how unfair it is. And everything I hate about cancer. And then I accidentally deleted it.

Which, I'm taking as a sign. Perhaps my post about my disgust with cancer wasn't meant to get out there. I don't know. Maybe I just needed to vent and now it's time to let that all go.

Someone in my family, someone who means the world to me, has been affected by cancer, again. After ten years of breast cancer remission, the nasty bitch is back. And it's all sorts of unfair and crazy and just not right. But we all know, life isn't fair, life is fragile, all of that stuff. I know this. I know that bad things just do happen to good people. She even said herself to me tonight over dinner, "we aren't asked if we want cancer." It's not a choice we're given. We have no say. It just happens.

No it's not fair, but really, life just isn't. So all we can do is deal. Deal with the cards we are dealt, even if they wicked suck, and just hope and pray and keep faith. What is our other option, really? Sit and be bitter and pissed and angry? I guess we could do that. We're all entitled to that. And you can bet your ass that there were swears and tears and frustration the other day with the most recent news. But as I've mentioned before, life is just so unpredictable. We just never know. One day things can be totally great and happy and sweet, and then just like that, everything can change. Right in front of our eyes.

It can only go to show, that we must open up our eyes a little more. Try with every healthy bone in our body to live each day to the absolute fullest. Be thankful for what we've got, do not take one second for granted. Realize that the life that we know and are so used to and comfortable with right now, can change, all in a matter of seconds.

What is our other option?

I Believe

2007-04-23T07:26:00.000-04:00

I believe in tipping appropriately. Extra well for good service. And treating waitstaff with respect. I also believe in sending food back if it's not how you ordered it.

I believe in staying in my pajamas, not showering, lazing around, in bed, all day. Sometimes with wine. And a good friend, or a good man.

I believe in the power of a sincere apology. And telling those that are nearest and dearest "I love you," often. And that it's never too late to do or say either of these things.

I believe that there is a time and place for everything. Humor is very necessary, but inappropriate in some situations.

I believe in seeing a good chick flick at least once a month. And girl time. Often.

I believe in dessert, and working out a little extra for it.

I believe in karma. What goes around comes around. I believe that the good that you put out to the world will come back to you.

I believe that we are affected, at least in some way, by every person that we meet. I believe people come into our lives for a reason.

I believe that in the end, things will all work out as they are supposed to.

I believe in positive thinking. I also believe in self fulfilling prophecies. If you say you are going to have a shitty day, you probably will. And the law of attraction, I believe in that, big time.

I believe in wearing sunscreen. I also believe in baking in the sun for hours, but not without sunscreen.

I believe that I have been truly blessed with a wonderful family, amazing friends, a roof over my head, and a little extra cash each month to go spend on accessories. For these things, I am immensely grateful.

I believe that pets can really understand us, our moods, and our funks.

I believe that the way a guy treats his mother says a lot.

I believe in an afterlife.

I believe that life is what we make of it. And that choice has a hell of a lot to do with it all.

I believe that once something truly hurtful is said or done, it cannot be taken back.

I believe that everyone has a story to tell. Sometimes elderly people especially.

I believe in having a smaller meal before going out to get a better, and quicker, and cheaper buzz.

I believe in chemistry. I believe that physical attraction is not everything, but it's very important.

I believe in using my fingers to add or subtract.

I believe in the importance of spending time alone, with just yourself. And the rejuvinating effect that can have. And I believe in being independent.

I believe that one can not possibly, fully understand the depths of another's heartache unless they have walked a mile in their shoes.

I believe that one can never have too many shoes. Or accessories. Or purses.

I think that everyone, unfortunately, will be affacted first hand, or know someone, a friend of a friend even, by cancer.

I believe in the healing power of a warm emrace. I believe that my mom will always be able to make the shittiest day better.

I believe that people should take risks. Do things that they have always wanted to do, even if they're scary things. To step outside of the box, out of the norm, the everyday mundane, and just live on the wild side. Even if that means highlighting your hair, getting a tattoo, traveling alone, or getting your ears pierced. Do it. Dare to take risks.

I believe that women are meant to have curves. And that curvy=sexy.

I believe in the turn on ability of Van Moorison playing in the background, while drinking wine, smelling yummy cologne, with candle lit ambiance.

I believe in really listening when talking to someone. Trying not to focus so much on what I want to say next and really, really listening.

thinking blogs

2007-04-22T16:29:00.000-04:00

Thanks to of my new favorite reads--Melissavina, for nominating me for a Thinking Blogger Award!

The only rule that goes along with accepting this award is to now list five blogs that "make me think."

Well I can't do it.

It's not that I can't list five.
It's that I can't list only five.

So. Instead, look over there to the right and see what I Check Out.

Because you should too.

the waiting game

2007-04-20T07:31:00.000-04:00

There's not a whole lot worse than a single girl, waiting around for a guy. You make plans with someone, think that they are pretty confirmed based on a phonecall the night before to the tune of, "I miss you and am looking forward to seeing you." Would make sense then to pretty much assume the get together is in fact, well, happening. Until it doesn't. Until it's 8:49PM on a Tuesday night, you were supposed to get dinner, and instead you're watching E True Hollywood Story, with your cell phone under you, on vibrate. You figuring if you have it on vibrate you'll at least be able to feel it. Because if it's just on ring, well you might not hear it, and then, holy god, miss his call.

But you don't miss his call. Because it doesn't come. Until 2AM that night. But it's not a call, it's a damn text. "I had to work a double. Sorry I didn't call sooner." You're pissed now because your phone is still on vibrate and the damn text has woken you up. You throw your phone and knock over a picture of you and your girlfriends on a boat last summer. Shit.

I've done this. I've been this girl, and really who hasn't? Haven't, at some point in time, all women been this girl? It's pretty much a fact. We've all been there. In some way or another. Waiting on a guy. We do this. And then we do it again, even after a time when we swore we'd "never wait for a guy again." There we go, again. The waiting. Hoping for a different result, round number 11.

The result is the same every time.

It's at some point in the waiting game, that we remember how cute he is. And how the last time we were together he said he liked the smell of your shampoo. "What is it, coconut?" he asks. You remember his yummy smelling cologne, and how you just couldn't get enough of it, and him. And you remember how he sweetly pushed your hair out of your eyes, how he pulled you into him during a really great hug, and you remember the sex.

But while you're waiting, and remembering, all that stuff, it slowly begins to fade away. There those good memories go, slipping away with the minutes that he hasn't called, still. At first it's what gets you excited. And what keeps you excited, anticipating that vibrate of the damn cell phone for a while. But as hours pass, you're halfway through a bag of Pirates Booty, and two hours into the Janice Dickinsin, True Hollywood Story, you begin to sort of dislike the things that you were remembering, and thought just hours ago were ohsofreakingcute.

No, it's not coconut shampoo, dumbass. And he always wore so much effing cologne. Doused in that stuff. And your hands are rough, please don't touch my face. You begin to remember how you felt suffocated when he pulled you in tight like that during that half-assed hug. And the sex? Yeah, it wasn't that great, really.

And this happens. This waiting game that we do as girls. And at a certain point, enough is enough, right? At some point, a line must be drawn. You will no longer wait around for his call. Won't not make plans on a night when you think you might have them with him. You will no longer look forward to his calls, because you know they will be laden with excuses of late nights at work, family commitments, watching the game with friends... all instead of calling you. Getting back to you. Keeping plans, with you.

And one day, all of it clicks. You realize you are worth more than waiting around for a guy who makes promises that are forever unfulfilled. You realize that the idea that you have in your head of this guy is a complete farce. Yeah, he may be nice and sweet and ohsocute in the moment, but when it comes down to it, where's the real meat of the matter? You realize you deserve so much more than a guy who can't fit you into his schedule. You realize although you don't want an always available man, you do want someone who will make time in his life for you.

So the waiting thing? After quite some time, after many consumed calories, empty wine bottles, and swearing off the vibe option on your cell phone, you realize, the waiting? It's way overrated.

Interviewed

2007-04-18T20:39:00.000-04:00

I've been "interviewed" by Brandy.

1. If you suddenly possess an extraordinary talent in one of the arts that you don't currently have, what would you choose?
--Hmm.. maybe musical talent. I love music so much, going to live shows, finding new random bands, etc. I would love if I had a voice that could be taken out of the car or shower.

2. How do you deal with anger?
--Really, I seldom get "angry." Obviously there's those times that I get pissed off, but it usually goes away pretty quick. If something is really bothering me though, I will chew gum. And eat chocolate. Working out always helps too. And I phone a friend. For sure.

3. What is the one accomplishment you are most proud of?
--Probably the fact that I got my Graduate degree at a pretty young age. I had it by the time I was 23. I suppose that's an accomplishment, and one of which I'm most proud.

4. If you could live the life of any fictional character for one day, who would you want to be?
--It sounds cliche, in the whole blogging world to choose this, but I don't care. Carrie Bradshaw. Because look at those shoes! and all the cute outfits! and the MEN! Aidan and Big and Berger. Uh, so yeah. I'd pick her.

5. Why do you blog?
--I started blogging just to actually have more a commitment to writing. A venue of sorts to get my thoughts and observations just out there. A place where I would devote time, regularly to actually pursue a longtime passion of mine. And in the process, I've met some really great people, with similar creative interests which has been really cool. Blogging also helps me to see what the hell I'm trying to do, think, say, etc. Getting it out there in writing often helps me to gain some more perspective on things. And in turn, see other points of view which is also pretty sweet.

If you are interested in participating, here are the rules:
Leave me a comment saying, “Interview me!”
I will respond by e-mailing you five questions. I get to pick them, and you have to answer them all.
You will update your blog with the answers to the questions.
You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Tragedy.

2007-04-18T17:44:00.001-04:00

I keep writing, and then deleting. I want to capture my feelings on the tragedy of what happened in Virginia the other day, but I just can't seem to articulate what it is I want to say. I write something, then I'm backspacing it all. I just don't know what to say. It's horrific, isn't it?

It's almost as though Monday never happened for me. I didn't even hear about what happened until Tuesday morning. One of my co-workers was looking online at CNN, and there was mention of some shootings and I was completely oblivious. Monday happened and I didn't know a thing about it. I'm a day late in my knowledge of all of this.

Which made me really think. And it makes me sad. And holy hell, it really opens up your eyes to the world around you. The world doesn't stop because you aren't paying attention. Things happen, tragedy and awful, really serious, sad, bad things happen. All around us, every day. Horrific things happen. And while the horrible events of Monday were happening, I was probably internally complaining about a headache on the plane, or my contacts bothering me. Missing my dad already. Wishing the airplane food didn't suck so much. Just wanting my own bed and for the five hour flight to be over. How insignificant and trivial all that is, in the wake of much more tragic, significant things like what has occurred.

It's just awful what has happened. And I don't have the words within my grasp to really capture it all. It's horrible and I can only imagine the pain that these students, the faculty, these families, and their friends are all facing right now. It sure puts minor difficulties in our own lives into perspective when something so tragic happens. Really makes you think about how fragile life is. How in a matter of minutes, circumstances in one's life can totally change.
And things are never, ever the same.

With the coverage every morning since, on the Today show, interviews with students, footage of vigils, photographs of the aftermath, I am keeping these people, those that were directly affected and those that were not... everyone, this country, in my thoughts and prayers during this tragic time.

lake tahoe

2007-04-17T20:36:00.000-04:00

these pics really do the scene no justice. it's absolutely beautiful there. one of my favorite places in the world.

"Caution, the moving walkway is empty."

2007-04-16T13:07:00.000-04:00

I'm sitting in an airport bar, in Chicago. Do you think it counts as visiting Chicago if I'm just in an airport bar? In that case, I could say I've been to Vegas, Atlanta, and a few other places only by airport association. Hmm. I'm drinking Bud Light drafts. I just started a tab. Why not? I have three hours until my flight. I just checked- it's on time. Snow delays are around me, sucks. People seeming irked that their flight is delayed. I'm starting to get a buzz. Hell, I only had some scraps of a nutrigrain bar hours ago. I'm at Miller's Pub. In front of me is the menu, which after more beer actually looks appealing. Chicken fingers. For $8.50? That's a lot, right? For me it is. Four travelers to my right, mother in law is coming in for the weekend, I curled my hair to fly for the day, group of delayed flight passengers are chatting, loud. About American Idol. They think the judges should have some sort of veto over who is voted off. In Sanjaya's case especially, they say. Who curls their hair to fly for the day? Really? I specifically plan comfy. Hair up, glasses, comfy shoes. Maybe she has a shorter flight. When I fly to NY I dress it up a little more. But still, curl my hair? Shit. The two next to me, they're a couple, are comfy. In clothes and in their way. He just leaned over to her, and wrestle hugged her. Cute. And I'm writing about them. Write now.

It doesn't feel like 11:35am. Shit. I woke up at 5:10 today. To my body, my Massachusetts body, it's 12:35pm. It doesn't feel like that either. It feels like it should be dark. Night. I'm several beers in, and this is what happens when you drink during the day. I remember college Saturdays, or Fridays after class getting out, starting drinking. A beer waiting for me by one of my roommates. Our neighbors already being half bombed. That seems so long ago now.

I want to call people. But all of my contact list are working. I just texted the new guy friend of mine. Yeah, I texted, and we all know my thoughts on that. But, I think what I sent, "I'm drinking a beer right now, sucks you're working," was text appropriate.

Oh wow. A really cute old man just ordered a Bloody Mary and a Gin and Tonic. His wife is over in the corner and she's adorable. I need to look away. This will induce tears.

Oh, oh no. The bartender's boyfriend broke his jaw playing hockey. She just said "snaggle tooth." He can't make out. It's been five weeks. I just saw a picture of his zoomed in grill on her Motorola camera phone. Oh, now she wants me to see a video. Wow.

I guess I should wrap this up. Order some app, or something.

And another beer.

tell me the reason and make it better

2007-04-11T14:47:00.000-04:00

Today I'm fidgety. I'm nervous and I feel a little off centered. I feel butterflies and my palms are sweaty. I keep drinking tons of water, and I want chocolate, lots of it. I feel a little nauseous, and I want to be tucked under my covers, with Oprah on my tv. I keep playing with my earrings like I do, when I'm nervous or overthinking about something. I feel off.

I have no real, good, certifiable reason for this feeling. It's out of the blue and it's weird. And it reminds me of the days when my ex and I used to fight, or be in an argument first thing in the morning, about some stupid something, and then it would all seep into my workday. And all day, my mind just could not gain any type of focus. I felt similar to how I do today, back then. Nervous and panicky. I little bit sick. Not totally right.

But there's no fighting. There's no arguments, no discourse. My ex and I haven't talked, I'm not upset, there's nothing wrong. There's no reasonable explanation for this feeling. And I hate that. I need a reason.

I've had two really good dates with my guy friend. That one a couple weeks ago, with the martinis and the adult conversations. Then last night… dinner and chilling at his place. He's all sorts of very nice, funny, and comfortable to be around, complimentary and cute. All those things, he's got all of that. Good, quality things.

And I can't pick out anything wrong. But my overanalytical self just can't seem to help but try to. Why do I do this? Why do I find the need to pick things apart? Tear a good date apart to find something wrong? I'm searching, looking, needing there to be something, but there isn't. Everything has been going so well. I'm happy when I'm with him, he makes me smile, and laugh. The pace is just right. A good, healthy, normal, nice pace. There's not calls and texts and emails all over the place. I don't feel smothered. I feel excited upon the idea of seeing him. Want to see him. Want to plan dates. I am attracted to him.

Maybe it's that I'm used to doing the single thing for so long? This is just the newness and adjustment to it? But what, with a new, good relationship, I am supposed to feel a little bit sick? Off balance? Nervous like this?

Is it that I'm not used to this? In my last relationship, the beginnings consisted of no such dating. No dinner dates, cocktails, getting to know you's. None of that stuff. It was all very intense, very fast, and boom, we were a couple. A serious couple and then it was deep. We were in deep, and it was all so fast. So much emotion, so fast. Too much. Too soon.

Maybe I'm just not used to this. This nice treatment, by a genuine guy? Someone that makes me laugh and that I have actually had good dates with, that leave me looking forward to more? Well that's all a good thing. It should be. It is. But why then, do I feel like I need to find something, something not right? How come the feeling of a little bit off?
What in the hell is my deal? Isn't this totally mad? That I should be feeling this way? With such a good new prospect? Does this mean something deeper? Am I making this into some crazy big deal when I should just be going with the flow and saying fuck it, and just being in the moment? Why is there the nervousness, the butterflies and the uncertainty, and the overfreakinganalyzing?

Why do I do this? Can't I just enjoy a good thing? This is a good thing. Come on!

mini-trippin

2007-04-10T07:10:00.000-04:00

I leave in three days for Reno, and I can't freakin wait. I can't wait to see my dad, read a good book, relax, and go here.

I love it there. Lake Tahoe has to be one of the most beautiful places ever. Or at least that I've been to.

Remember the story about this whole situation? Well this will be the first time that I'll potentially see him, since all of that. I already got an invite to go to his place, for dinner with him and his girlfriend. Right, because that would be all kinds of comfortable for me. I would much prefer a coffee or walk or something than a whole sit down meal thing in their place.

And things still seem to be moving along quite well for my dad and his new lady-friend. Who I guess I might meet while I'm there.

Still, so as not to jinx anything up, I think it's at least okay to say that things with my new guy-friend are going well too. He met up with a group of us this weekend for a birthday celebration of my red-headed beauty, and lots of fun was had. We're hoping to get together before I get the hell out of dodge for a few days (who or where did that weird phrase come from??? I just wanted to bust it out but I haven't a clue what it's really all about.)

And that's really the latest. I do believe it's time for a glass of wine and some online shoe shopping.

Mr. Right

2007-04-05T22:10:00.000-04:00

Ruby tagged me to do a fiver about myself. Well, I've switched it up a little bit. Because I've already done 42 about myself, and then 58 more. And I think even more after that, and really, aren't you sick of learning stuff about me? Maybe eventually I'll get to it. For now, I decided to switch it up and list five things that I look for my Mr. Perfect to have/possess/wear/do/smell etc.
(This list is in no way in it's full entirety here. And note the Mr. "Perfect," which is the point of this.)

♥ He has to be funny. Have a really good sense of humor, make me laugh, like, a lot. Be witty, and sarcastic. Be able to people watch, and judge with the best of them. Ergo, he must not take himself, or others, too seriously. If I trip and fall, I would rather him first make sure I'm okay, and then laugh at and with me, rather than being all overly concerned, serious-like about the whole scene. And he must like funny movies, actors, and old school SNL skits. Or at least know who starred in some of the best of the best. Any reference he can make from Chris Farley, Adam Sandler, or Stuart (I know it's Mad TV) would really earn him some points. And turn me on.

♥ Spontaneity. And a take charge attitude. None of this, girl: "What do you want to do Friday?, boy: "I dunno what do you wanna do?" or, "you decide, I'll do whatever, I have absolutely no opinion." Screw that noise. I need a go getter. Someone who knows what he wants, and goes after it. Makes things happen. Surprises. Spontaneous acts of romance. Here and there; I'm not saying it's a must, all of the time. But some of the time, yeah. Absolutely necessary.

♥ Plays well with others. Can easily go with the flow. Can deal with a change in agenda. A bump in the road per se, is just that, not some huge issue. Easygoing and carefree. Doesn't upset easily. Shares well. Does unto others…. type thing. Does little things for the woman he loves, ie: buys hot sauce for her even though he hates it, leaves little notes in the bathroom, a goodnight phone call, checks to make sure she has her cell phone and favorite lip gloss for a night out, brushes the snow off of her car. These things, mean something. They mean a lot.

♥ Has passion. About me, obviously, but about other things too. Like music for example. Going to concerts, playing some instrument, seeking out new bands. Or sports. Going to games with friends, watching Sunday football. Basketball brackets. Or art. Likes to write, or appreciates a good book, and maybe likes museums. Or food. Can cook, or likes to maybe, or wants to learn. Loves a good steak. Likes/wants children. Is good with them. Is a good friend. Has a bunch of them, and is known for his accountability to them. Basically, has a passion for something outside of the relationship. Has plans and is busy with things, not just all consuming and conforming to being in a relationship.

♥ Family. Appreciates a good, happy family. Treats his mom well, and women in his life. Wants a family. Wants kids. My family likes him. He's easy to get along with and fits in with my family, and friends. I can leave him at a family party and know he can hold his own with my uncle who wears sunglasses indoors.

♥ Knows how to have a good time. Appreciates a night in, on the couch watching a movie pretty much as equal to going out on the town with friends. Likes to have guys nights. Drinks caffeine, and beer. Is open to trying new things. New places. Loves old places, hole in the walls. His idea of a good time can be just doing nothing, with me. Thinks I'm great.

♥ Can talk me out of mood. Or a funk. And will try to get my funk. Will give me time to cool off if I need it, but not put up with my crap if I'm being silly, overreacting, which I will. Can put me in my place. Will take care of me if I'm sick. Dependable. My go-to guy. For help with my car (I can deal with it on my own, but it doesn't mean I don't want his help anyway). Understands me. And just gets me. We get each other.

♥ Is a kind, genuine guy. Knows it, but is humble. Doesn't have a freakish temper. Doesn't drink a whole bottle of whatever-his-choice-may-be in one sitting. Can drink and hold his own, but knows his limits. Takes good care of himself, and others. Is a good guy. Wholeheartedly.

And that was more than five, I know. And I could seriously go on to probably 28, maybe 32. Lest this make me appear overly nit-picky, let me just state for the record, I am picky. I do admit to that. But I also know what I want. And what I don't want. I know no one is perfect, but the Mr. Perfect for me will end up being my Mr. Right. And one of these days I hope to find him out there.

**And thank you Mel for the "♥" tutorial-I owe you girl.**

date weekend

2007-04-04T20:53:00.000-04:00

My dad went on three dates last weekend. With two women! He's a quite a stud that guy. Now the secret is out, where I get my sweet dating skills from. Really though, good for him. He's single and has been for quiiite some time. He's a very independent guy, lived on his own for a while after the divorce, does his own thing, on his own time. I would say he's pretty content with the status quo, but he has mentioned how it might be nice to have someone to do things with. You know, a lady-friend. I can't say I blame him. Although one of the dates isn't going to probably have a second meeting, the other one, apparently went quite well. My dad's pretty quiet about these "type of things," not wanting to talk too much about it all, in case of jinxing it. But it seems like drinks at two bars on Saturday, followed by a walk together on Sunday have things seeming off to a promising start.

And lest this turn into a blog about my father's dating escapades, maybe I should touch upon my date from this past weekend. Which I guess I didn't mention ahead of time? Well, it was good. Really good. I haven't had a good date, with a good guy, in, well… in a longlong time. We all know how this dud turned out, and since then there hasn't been much to report in the dating department.

But Friday was very good! I'm totally my father's daughter here, not wanting to say too much, not wanting to jinx anything. But let's just say, I haven't laughed so much on a date in quite a long time (and maybe drank quite so many martinis, but that's besides the point). What a very nice guy he is too. Very down to earth, intelligent, attractive, witty and sarcastic (which earn him ultra bonus points right there), and genuine. I just get that vibe from him, which is good in light of recent events. All in all, I'd rate this one an 8... pushing a 9/10. Not bad, eh?

wait, what?

2007-04-03T16:45:00.000-04:00

no, seriously. what's going on here?

What I Remember

2007-03-30T09:52:00.000-04:00

To me it seems like a lot of my childhood is a division of two parts. Pre and post divorce. My parents' that is. My memories from my youth are all very happy. Surrounded by a wonderful family, supportive parents, great childhood friends, and grandparents that spoiled me. To say that I had a great childhood would be an enormous understatement.

Although my parents divorced when I was six, I don't hold one single bad memory of their marriage. I don't hold any memories of it. Their marriage. At all. I cannot remember a time when the three of us were together, when they were actually married.

I don't remember anything, pre divorce. I remember the house we lived in, the three of us, and my friend who lived next door with a pool. I remember my childhood bedroom, and the cardboard ice cream stand that i would play in every day. I remember this little camera that I had that I thought was the coolest thing in the world. I remember what the house looked like, the rooms and a lot of how they were decorated.
But if you ask me to tell you my first memory of my family, together, the three of us, them married, us a traditional family, I could not do it. And that sometimes makes me sad.

Post divorce, many memories are very vivid. I remember my mom living with my grandparents shortly after it happened. I remember her and I sharing a bedroom, each of us in twin beds. I remember my dad moving to a new house. Wednesday nights with him, early Thursday mornings driving back to my mother's. Weeks shared, divided, back and forth, to each house. Car rides with my dad, to my mom's. Friday and Saturday nights at my dad's, driving to my mom's at 12pm on the dot each Sunday. Shared holidays. Christmas Eve's at my dad's, late Christmas morning going to my mom's. Thanksgiving one year at my mom's, the next with my dad.

I remember specific times with each parent, post divorce. I remember one Easter, taking a walk with my mom. I was in new patent leather shoes and an Easter hat. She was in a dress; I'm pretty sure. I remember that day, in my grandparent's neighborhood. I can feel the spring weather on my skin right now, the breeze in my hair. I can smell the grass, and see the pavement with the many cracks that I tried to avoid. I remember taking that walk together, my mom and I, before it was time to go to my dad's for the remainder of the holiday. All of this is so very vivid.

With my dad, I remember a specific time of us driving in the car, and O was upset, at something. Probably something silly and little, but that seemed like the hugest deal to the ten year old me. Life is a Highway was my favorite song at the time, and I remember that song coming on the radio and my dad trying to cheer me up, raising the volume and saying, "it's your favorite song!" I remember being angry. Not caring, or eat least trying to seem like I didn't. And getting teary. I remember trying to not enjoy the song because I was trying to appear angry with him, but wanting to sing anyway.

The pre divorce years, and how I cannot remember them, makes me sad when I really think about it. I try and try to just remember, just a spec of an ounce of something with the three of us, pre divorce. Us three at dinner, a holiday together, a car ride. Try as I might, I just can't seem to get a visual. I can totally imagine, conjure up an image in my mind of what it must have been like. But the real thing, I just can't place it. Freudians would eat this up. Analyze how I must have had some awful childhood, that I'm trying to repress something. That my id, ego, and superego are working to help me rationalize something. Protect me.

But that couldn't be further from the truth. It was never bad. Not at all, in any way. I don't remember any fighting, no yelling, no arguments. I don't remember any tears, no bad times at all. I don't remember much of anything. Pre divorce.

Post divorce I remember so much. The smell in my dad's new house. My mom's new apartment after she moved out of her parent's house. How when I was younger, right after the divorce, my dad would lay out an outfit for me on a Thursday morning. socks, underwear, pants, and a shirt. I'd put these clothes on, eat some breakfast, and we'd go to my mom's. I remember getting there, and finding an outfit. Laid out. On my bed, for me. From my mom. The same thing. Socks. Underwear. Pants. And a shirt.

I remember wearing two pairs of underwear to school because I felt guilty not. To choose just one pair, would be to pick between my dad and mom. And how could I possibly choose, between the two? I couldn't. I wouldn't and I didn't.

Soon after, i didn't have to. I imagine I must have told my mom one time about how I did this, the underwear thing. And I imagine she must have had a talk with my dad, because thereafter, the double outfit thing was no longer an issue. I will always remember this. My mom and I joke about it to this day, yet thinking about it sometimes makes me sad. Of me as a little girl, not wanting to choose.

I still don't want to choose. Now I don't have to. I am an adult now. My father lives on the West Coast, my mom here in the same state as me. Holidays are no longer split between two parents. No more running around, back and forth, car rides to and from their houses on the same day. No more choosing who I will stay with for Christmas Eve. No more leaving a holiday dinner early to go to the other families house. I am who I am today because of my childhood. I don't look back with any regrets. I had a great childhood, and if the tone of this seems melancholy that's not all it should be. I feel sad for the memories that I cannot produce, but I feel utterly filled with appreciation for the ones I have. I would not change a thing of my childhood if I could. I have an amazing relationship with both of my parents, which I believe is somewhat directly related to the individual time I was afforded with both of them given the circumstances.

I have a picture in a safe place. It's of my mom and my dad on their wedding day. I am wearing a diamond necklace today. It was given to me by my mom two Christmas' ago. It is a gorgeous piece of jewelry. But it's so much more than just that. The necklace was made from the diamond that my father gave to my mother when he proposed to her. Her engagement ring. Something that they shared, just the two of them, is now mine. This is one of the most treasured things I own. So special to me and so meaningful. a little piece of both of them that I can always carry around with me.

The Secret

2007-03-28T19:50:00.000-04:00

I'm reading this book; Oprah loves it so it, so naturally I hold it in high regard as well. It's a best seller and sold out everywhere, and my father sent it to me two weeks ago. When he asked me last week if I had started reading it yet I told him how I was finishing up with something else and would get to it soon.

I should have gotten to it sooner.

The book is everything positive that it claims to be. It's all about the law of attraction, positive thinking, all that jazz. You know, envisioning what you want (the perfect man), picturing yourself actually having it (not sleeping in the middle of the bed anymore), and then being ready to receive it (because the book guarantees it will happen).

I'm all for positive thinking. I think there is so much to be said for it. I once dated a guy who was pretty much the definition of the glass half empty. Everything was woe is him. His job. His apartment. His mother. His body. His finances. Cry me a freaking river. And I felt bad, I did. And I would try to cheer him up. "Look on the bright side of things," I'd say, all of the time. Telling him if he thought more positively about things, more good would happen in his life. ("Get a freaking grip," was what I often thought.) But I was supportive. In the best most tolerable way you can be with someone who is a downer so.much.of.the.time. Man, it takes a toll dating someone like that. He comes to mind as I've been reading this book. I think it would do him wonders.

It talks about the idea that when you think a thought, you are attracting similar thoughts to you. So if you say, "I'll never meet a good guy," you are in essence, attracting not meeting good guys to you. You'll then end up meeting losers, because that's all your focus is on- how you keep meeting losers. The author talks about how your thoughts become things. Using examples such as imagining you are going to get a good parking spot, picturing yourself in the spot, and then it actually happening. The Law of Attraction.

Being a pretty positive thinker myself, a lot of the ideas in this book I already kind of knew about. I'm kind of a self help book fiend, so many of the ideas have been touched upon in other stuff I have read.

Nevertheless, it's a good book and I recommend it. Who can't go for a little positivity in their lives?

how come?

2007-03-24T11:04:00.000-04:00

I hate these reminders of you. There's so many freaking reminders. You know, for the longest time, I felt good that I was in a new place. A new apartment, somewhere you'd never been in, we'd never been us in. There was never an us here. No shared moments in the kitchen, cooking a meal together. Nothing shared on the couch in this place, my head in your lap as we watched a movie together. We shared my bed, but not in this new place. No shared bed memories here.

And so for a while, the no shared moments, together, here, that was all good. With the newness, there was no you, no us. I didn't have to worry about looking outside at my driveway and remembering us kissing there. Didn't have to see the upstairs shower and remember what we did there.

So the newness, it was all pretty good. Because it didn't evoke memories of you. But then, the newness, the fucking newness, reminded that it was lacking you. Devoid of you. Never once was there a memory here of us together.

And sometimes it's everywhere. Sometimes you are still everywhere. You are in the way that my body falls asleep at night. The way I still bring a glass of water to bed. It's in the way that I leave the door ajar in the bathroom while brushing my teeth. It's in the way I put my hand on the passenger seat of the car.

I used to do all of these things, in the anticipation of you being there. The bed. The water for you. Expecting you to join me to brush our teeth together. Me putting my hand on your leg when I drove us somewhere.

The thing is, you're not here. You never were. Which makes it so weird, for me to still be doing these things, as if you were. As if it's going to ever be this way again. Why still, all these memories? Why still, can I feel your presence here, when you were never here to begin with? How can you miss something that you never had?

Why must you keep turning up all over the place? In places you don't belong. That you weren't ever before?

Go away. Please?

something so small

2007-03-21T17:41:00.000-04:00

sometimes? someone totally random will do something totally uncharacteristic, something out of the blue, and it will have a way of adding a little needed sunshine to your day.

and if you're real lucky? this will happen when you need it most, and often.

when this happens to me, i can't help but feel very grateful and appreciative. on a bad day, where things just don't seem to get off on the right foot, from the get go, and continue to spiral down a shit path throughout the day. it's during these days, when nothing is going right, you are feeling your ugliest, your fattest, your most undesirable. you're overwhelmed, stressed, emotional, and all together feeling just off. wrong. shitty. when someone dishes a compliment on one of these off days? doesn't it then feel like things are all just a little bit better?

at least it does for me.

and when this happens on a really good day? the type where the morning starts off good, it's a friday even, your hair actually does what you want it to, it's finally warm out, you're feeling like you look good, well that's just wicked great. your day is already pretty much a 10, and a compliment comes your way, and it only gets that much better.

but then i start to think. imagine the people that have the latter of the days mentioned, most days? or people who don't have work colleagues who are very nice. who don't have special friends who dish compliments just because. don't even have family that they can depend on. no special someones in their lives at all. and, maybe they don't have much money, or motivation, or means to look and feel good about themselves as often as they'd like. imagine how a compliment, a random act of kindness would change their day?

i think about this notion, often. how much a random act of kindness really can affect a person. change someone's day. just a smile even. how much of a tremendous impact that can make on someone's day. how it can change their outlook.

and imagine if that's directed towards someone who never experiences that kind of thing? a smile. something so small, but isn't it something that we sometimes take for granted?

after thinking about this recently, and a lot today, i have decided to really go even more out of my way to extend those random acts of kindness to people. a compliment. getting the door for someone. leaving an extra tip. smiling at a stranger. sending a thinking of you card for no reason. telling a friend that i'm there for them if they need to talk. paying a little more than your share. surprising someone with a coffee. for something that can take such little effort, it can hugely impact someone in unthinkable ways.

at least it did for me.

signals

2007-03-19T18:07:00.000-04:00

I'm not good always, at feeling out whether a guy is interested or not. I used to be better at it. Now, sometimes, I just don't know. I don't read these signals well. Sometimes I misread them, thinking that when he asked for my number he really wanted to get to know me, was genuinely interested, and didn't just want to sleep together. Other times I'll misunderstand and be totally aloof and not even fathom that a guy like that, could be into a girl like me.

Because I have not done so well at reading the signals lately. Therefore, lately, I don't always know what the right move is. And it makes me more reserved, and I hate that. It's partly because of the guy that I went out with a couple weeks ago. I met him the night of the speed dating, not at the event but after. I should have known when I joked with him that he probably regularly attends these events to pick up the girls at the end of the night who haven't left or coupled off, that that actually was the case. His sly little laugh and smirk should have told me better. When I met him for drinks and appetizers the following week, I should have known that he wasn't what I was looking for based on his incessant grilling of me to come back to his place to "watch a movie" after only spending about an hour together. No thank you.

I should have read those signs. But the date was one of the best I've ever had. There was laughing, flirting, kissing. It was really good, and fun. And promising, I thought. At least of something fun, a dating thing, which is what I was looking for from this. Not necessarily anything serious. I would have considered a second date.

Well apparently that's not what this guy wanted either. Which I learned the following week, when he and his three friends met us at the same place as the week before, and a group of ended up going back to his house with everyone for a little gathering. Words that shouldn't be mentioned outside of a serious relationship and the comfort zone that I may or may not get in with someone, were whispered, in sketchy, skeevy, whiskey laden tones in my ear. He didn't want to date. He wanted sex. And want to have me do things to him, in his upstairs guestroom. Just real quick, they'll never know. I'm no Charlotte, and I'm not freaked at the occasional dirty talk, in the right situation. But this was obscene. Gross, really. Inappropriate and such.a.turnoff.

And here I am, thinking things could be fun, dating like fun. A cool guy, funny and friendly and sexy. No, wrong. Again, me, wrong. With the signals. What gives? Am I just not able to read them? I'm usually good at that kind of thing.

So this is the issue. How do you know when a guy is looking for just sex, or something more? When he asks you out to eat, how do you know what kind of eating out he may have in mind? Do you just go with it, and see what happens? And that's how you learn? Then why did he even bother with the drinks, the appetizers, the family talk, acting like he gives a shit about that stuff?

I guess I'm just not sure. Some guys, they just have a vibe about them. You know that they aren't looking for dating, or a relationship, and sometimes you're still interested, and that can all be well and good. Some guys, appear to want the dating thing, yet surprise you like this one did. Others, you just fall into a relationship with, it's easy and fun and you both want the same thing, things just seem to go along so nicely, it's no work at all and you're just consumed by the goodness of it all; it almost feels too good to be true. Or maybe that's just a daydream of mine.

And maybe lately my signal reading has been a little off. And maybe this is most definitely one to add to the come on list.

Oh well.

St. Patty's Day

2007-03-17T10:25:00.000-04:00

I'm Irish and I love this day. Taken from City Wendy, here are some of the cool things I like about St. Patrick's Day:

-An excuse to drink during the day (as if I needed a holiday to do that)
-Because I love kelly green, and any green really
-And why not drink Irish car bombs?
-Or drink Guiness, even though it's really not my favorite, I will do so with a smile today
-I've learned that they really don't wear anything under those kilts
-Bag pipes, Danny Boy, and the Irish Blessing
-Today, maybe I really will have the luck of the Irish
-Green beer
-My nails, painted green today, and today only
-And the green eye liner and shadow that I will bust out today and people will feel is so appropriate, when any other day they just wonder, "is she wearing green eye makeup?"
-Because I am Irish, the phrase does apply to me, so come on...Kiss Me already
-Being with friends, and family, celebrating being Irish, even if they aren't at all.

Happy St. Patty's Day!

because all the cool kids are doing it...

2007-03-14T20:37:00.000-04:00

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

come on!

2007-03-13T21:48:00.000-04:00

as opposed to this and what i'm a sucker for, i say..

COME ON to:

dry contacts, running out of contact solution at a bad time. getting something in your eye.
the light just turning yellow, and the person in front of you actually slowing down for it.
running late for work, and realizing your gas light is on. shit.
cd wrappers, so annoying. and dvd wrappers too.
and things in that plastic kind of packaging, the kind you really can't get into, and end up with severe cuts on your hands when you finally do.
bringing your digital camera with you to a special event, and it dying on contact with no battery left.
craving a glass of milk and finding less than a sip left. an empty ice cube tray on a hot day.
forgetting to put my ipod in my gym bag. or worse, my headphones. forgetting the combination to my lock.
how easily i bruise; i look abused half the time.
my hair breezing into my lipgloss. and chapped lips. running out of my favorite shampoo.
getting snuggled into bed, and realizing i forgot to take my pill. being in bed, and obsessing about whether i bolted the door or not.
only having thongs to choose from, or worse, period undies (yes, i went there; it's not gross, it's the facts), when you just want a fucking comfy pair of regular ones.
thinking you paid a bill only to get a double whammy the following month. budget billing for the gas bill almost doubling.
not having a disposal anymore. how much trash accumulates because of it.
checking my home email from work, and then getting home and still receiving them all as "new"
forgetting to wear one of my rings. forgetting mascara. i feel naked without either.
when the bottom of pants get wet half way up your calf in the rain or snow. stepping in something wet, with socks on.
music that's too loud, even if i like it, and it's my favorite band.
chipping nail polish, it's gross and i hate it on myself, and more on others.
dry skin in the winter. oily sunscreen.
overflowing trash.
someone beeping at you when you're at a red light that clearly states, "no turn on red."
being at a store, with a sale, and realizing i left my gift card at home. losing my dunkin donuts gift card.
unreturned phone calls. or texts, when a phone call is more appropriate.
pink, the singer.
reruns when you just want a new episode. the summer when all shows are on hiatus.
blogs not refreshing to the current post.
hearing the word cunt.
late fees.
too much heat, in a car. or not enough.
too ripe bananas. waiting for a one to get just ripe enough.
getting a piece of the shell in the pan from an egg.
no more sex and the city. or felicity. or party of five. and 90210, yeah.
needing a new battery, for whatever, and being all out.

speechless, at the right time

2007-03-12T15:50:00.000-04:00

I remember when you first told me you loved me. We were in your car, we had just gotten back to your house and we both had our seats back. Some song was playing, I can't remember what. We were holding hands. As I leaned over to kiss you, hug you, touch your face, I remember us laughing that the damn e brake got in the way. It was quiet for a minute, and that's when it happened. You had me in your arms and you said it. That you were in love with me.

How long is too long, to sit with the silence, before it seems awkward that one hasn't responded to a first "I love you?" Ten seconds? Thirty? It wasn't as if I didn't hear you. I did, you knew that as I looked up at you and kissed you, squeezed you tighter, breathed you into me more.

I did feel it then, but too many seconds had passed and I felt like the moment had gone. Too late to say it. It slipped into the heater vents as I deeply exhaled it out. But no words came. I could have said it. At any time, really. When we went back inside and cozied up on the couch with each other and a movie; I could have said it then, I just didn't. Not because I didn't feel it. I did. I let the moment pass me by. That moment, when I should have said it, was gone.

But then? As I'm writing this now, I feel like that was a cop out. I must have not said it fora good reason. I also think, when you love someone, you should tell them, right then, right there, in the moment. Given the moment is appropriate and all. No amount of seconds or minutes or hours that pass should equal the time frame of a missed chance. I felt it, but I just didn't say it. I don't know if what I'm feeling is described as regret.

I remember though, feeling it, earlier that weekend. We were at the mall and I had dragged you into girly accessory stores, and you didn't complain, not a bit. At least not that I remember now. You were adorable the way you were, with me, that day. I just wanted to eat you up. I remember it was crowded and after a while, we both just needed out of the place. We couldn't find we where parked, looked on every floor, not remembering where we had been just a couple hours earlier. This made us laugh. We said "screw it" and decided to go get something to eat and have some beers and figure it all out after. And we did, and I remember our way of walking to the car, finally finding it, me giggling, tipsy and warmer from the alcohol. It was cold that day and you took my hand and we headed for no direction really, to look for your car, somewhere. I remember, then, at that moment, was when I started to feel it. It was at that moment. It came over me in a huge wave and I remember thinking, God, I am in love this guy. I hadn't felt that, well, ever. Not like that, so sure of it. Not before you.

When we finally found the car, there was traffic, tons of it, getting out of the garage. And I was flustered and hot. And some song, I don't remember what now, was on the radio. I remember us turning it up, and we blasted that sucker. You opened the windows, all of them including the sunroof, and we blared that rap shit, and I wore your hat. We were both laughing, hysterically really. It was at that moment, that I wanted to say it. Scream it. Over the music I wanted to scream out, "I love you!!" And I didn't. Although the timing seemed so right, something held me back.

And something held me back that night in the car. In one instance the timing didn't feel totally right, the other couldn't have been more perfect. In neither situation did I have the nerve to say it.

All along though, I felt it. Maybe I should have said it, in those times. For the first time, then, that night back to you, or the next day to you, first. I didn't.

And I don't really know what all this means. I know what I feel; I just couldn't seem to get it out.

I carried a watermelon

2007-03-08T21:32:00.000-05:00

The other night, I carried a watermelon. Well, not literally. My girlfriends and I use the "I carried a watermelon" phrase to describe a situation where we probably didn't say the best thing. A foot in mouth kind of thing. Where you say something, quickly, either in response to a question or even as a conversation starter. But what you say isn't smooth. And really not suave, not in the very least. Actually, you end up feeling like an idiot, and probably sound like one. It's that, did I really just say that, outloud? feeling of embarrassment. You know what I'm talking about.

Ok, maybe you don't know what I'm talking about. So I'll setup the scene of the phrases origination, and even post a little visual aid as well. It's about 4:00 minutes in. But watch the whole scene, because who doesn't love Dirty Dancing?

Baby goes into the staff quarters with Johnny's cousin. To get in there she well, carries a watermelon. Johnny's cousin is juggling two up the walkway, when Baby walks by, sees him struggling, and offers to help. Cousin tells Baby she can't go with him, she talks him into it, and they enter the staff quarters where everyone is, well, dirty dancing. Johnny notices cousin and Baby standing on the side of the dance floor, and is all, "Yo, cuz, what's she doin' here?" Cuz says she's with him, and Baby says the first thing that comes to mind, blurting out, "I carried a watermelon." Johnny just looks at her, in his too many unbuttons undone white shirt, and says nothing, and walks (dances?) away. Then we see Baby, mocking herself saying, "I carried a watermelon?" In complete disbelief that she actually just said that, to him, out loud.

Now go ahead, watch for yourself:

That's the scene in the movie. Baby thinks Johnny is cute, she gets nervous, and says the first thing that comes to mind. Which is exactly what I did the other night.

If you haven't heard of Jim Bianco, you must. Google him. Download him. Make him your screensaver or wallpaper. I did. If I had to say my "type" of guy, it's him. His clothing, his hair, his whole way. His body and his vibe. Man, and his voice. His sweet, raspy voice. And he plays the guitar. Lord knows I'm a complete sucker for a guy who can play the guitar.

He has toured with the likes of Joshua Radin, Joe Purdy, Rachel Yamagata, Kate Havnevik, Cary Brothers, Schuyler Fisk, Imogen Heap, and Gary Jules. I saw him this fall at the Hotel Café tour and when I saw he was in the area again I couldn't miss the opportunity.

Much as I couldn't miss the opportunity, after his amazing set, to scope him out in the back of the lounge, and go up to him, to say something. I had no idea what. Nothing that came to mind seemed even the least bit appropriate. I don't usually get nervous, generally, around guys. About what to say or do or whatever. But this was different. He is so talented, and so incredibly good looking. I was totally into his performance and HIM, so I had to take this chance to at least say... something.

You were good. That is what I said as I "pretended" to walk to the ladies room and accidentally "noticed" him on the way there. Yeah. I carried a fucking watermelon. Who says "you're good?" And that's pretty much all I said. He smiled, nodded. I got fidgety and put my hands in my pocket and touched my hair too much. I quickly went on to tell him that I had seen him at the other tour, and that they were good then too. He smiled, but didn't say anything. I was Baby and he was Johnny. Then he looked up, asked my name, and extended his hand. Yes! We touched. I introduced myself to his band member buddy, and told them, for the third time, that they did a really good job.

And I carried a watermelon. Sure, I sounded completely dumb and nervous and I looked fidgety. Maybe that's just me. Around someone like that. I couldn't help myself. But at least I got to meet Jim Bianco. Even if I was a Baby about it.

weekend in review

2007-03-07T20:43:00.000-05:00

Oh, my weekend. Ruby reminded me that an update was due. Well I had just the most wonderful time ever. My Almost Sister and her hubby are two of the greatest people in the world; if only we lived closer. Not that an hour flight is really that far at all. But for a girl who is so much on the same wavelength as myself, who at the drop of a hat would do anything for anyone, with whom I am constantly laughing with, and really, how we just get each other, who makes me constantly smile... well, it would be nice if she lived say, an hour DRIVE away. It is a great trip to make though- quick and easy to get to, and always worth it.

Friday Almost Sister and I did some shopping and saw Music and Lyrics. I really like Drew Barrymore. I forget that every time, until I see her in a movie where I am reminded of it. And Hugh Grant. I'm not my mom, who has a HUGE thing for him, but the guy does have an accent, a good body, and isn't bad looking, at all. I enjoyed him in this movie. Saturday we picked up Almost Sister's brother. He came in to spend the night and we got on the same flight for the next day. Anyway, the rest of the weekend was spent drinking lots of Sangria (homemade even), and eating, lots of eating, and laughing.

Now I'm not a big meat eater. Not at all. I pretty much stick to chicken as a staple. Now and then I'll make some meatballs, oh and I love tacos. Infrequently I'll eat an occasional burger. That's mainly only enjoyed on a trip to Reno at this place that has the best burgers ever. And I'm not a big steak eater. I love it, when I have it. But I don't order it. Or make it. Steak tips I love, but other than here, which is probably the last place I had them, I seldom eat tips. Well that all changed this weekend. I ate, more meat than I have ever eaten in a sitting, ever. We went to this really great Brazilian place. It's a set price for the meal, pricey, but sooo so worth it. You put these coaster type things, with one side that's red, and one green in front of you. Green means keep the meat coming. Red= you need a break. They come around to the table with the hunks of meat ("hunk of meat" doesn't make it sound all that very appetizing but it SO is), and they cut it right there in front of you. And it's so fresh. And juicy. And altogether delish. For someone who hardly ever eats meat, I was in total heaven. Mmmm....

And the weekend just goes by so quickly when I'm visiting them. I was there three days and it was over before I knew it. I was hoping to meet up with Kristen while I was there, but the time just got away from us. I had a wonderful time though, surrounded by wonderful friends, with new, wonderful memories.

long weekend

2007-03-01T20:01:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow I leave for NY for the weekend to see my almost sister, and her wonderful hubby. Sucks we're getting some snow, and knock on wood that it won't f-up the flight. I'll try and take some pictures and maybe will post some here next week. I'm very much looking forward to a little getaway.

American Idol results show is on tonight. My favorites so far are: Blake Lewis, Chris Richardson, and Lakisha Jones. I think Sanjaya is outa there this week. And what's her name- the one who sang the Celine Dion one with the 70's number on last night, who has posed nude or something.

Oh, and Anna Nicole's "Final Journey Home" is on tomorrow. Just in case you care.
I cannot WAIT until this coverage is done with.

Hope everyone has a happy Friday and a great weekend.

**UPDATE**
Uh oh. Guy from Mass just got booted off. So much for representing.

Anticipation.

2007-02-28T19:41:00.000-05:00

Know what's pretty sweet? The fact that I'm going on two trips within the next 2 months, and needed to pay all of $10 for them. That's two flights, one this weekend to NY to see my beloved almost sister, and one to Nevada in April to see my dear Daddo.

So that's all so exciting, but right up there with jump up and down excitement is the trip I've booked to Myrtle Beach with the lovely ladies who I intend to still be friends with 35 years from now.

I always say, I've always thought, that half the fun of a trip is the anticipation of it. Like when I went to Miami this past October. Although the intended dates of departure needed to be shifted due to circumstances beyond our control, I got to stew with excitement, times two. Unfortunate that it didn't work out as originally planned in August, but none the less, I got to experience what I like to call pre-trip foreplay, twice. So even though I didn't actually vaca, in August, I pre-trip foreplayed for it. Oh, and it was amazing. Kind of along the same lines as mixed drinks + flirting, making out + pawing at each other, pre-trip foreplay is totally my thing. Lest it seem here that the analogy I'm trying to make means that I see actual foreplay as always mandatory, let me just state the fact that I sometimes prefer getting right down to business. Anyway, I'm getting away from the subject at hand.

The point is, I love the pre-trip foreplay. The booking of the trip. The planning process of it all. Looking for the perfect hotel, the right flight, departure times, car rental. What gets me off even more (I'm talking about the trip still), is the excitement that is the planning of the outfits. The shopping pre-trip. Looking for that special bikini, although perhaps not as fun early March in unfortunate lighting illuminating ghostly white skin. But finding the perfect dress. That fits just right and you just feel amazing in. Maybe you'll never wear it again, but you have it for the upcoming trip and you're damn amused as you strut into your apartment trying it all on. The strappy sandals with the new halter and skirt. You rub a little Banana Boat sunscreen on your arm and you close your eyes and picture Jimmy Buffet and you and your girlfriend's sipping a beach cocktail with the waves crashing ahead of you.

And as the time nears closer, you get more and more antsy, fidgety, just waiting for it to come. The trip that is.

You can't control yourself. You count the days, x them off in your work agenda. Get your out of office reply ready, gather the magazines and books you've been wanting to read for forever, and probably get the highlights you've been putting off for a month or so. You book your mani/pedi and it's only one more day, and you can barely sleep. So you don't sleep. You stay up that night before, blasting the stereo in your living room as you and your roommate pack, doing fashion shows of what you should wear the next day to the beach. It's probably late now, and you're probably drinking a celebratory martini, because, well, you can. And it's almost here. Finally, you decide you should at least try to rest, just a little. So you're in your bed and you're awake, thinking, likely giggling out loud imagining the next several days of GLORY.

It's finally here and the excitement is at an all time high. You're heart is racing and you are envisioning the blue ocean, the pretty drinks you will throw back too many of, the smell of a far off hotel room, the balcony that you can only imagine will overlook a serene scene. You arrive at your destination and the pre-trip foreplay has brought you to an amazing climax. And for the next several days you are in heaven. Oh this feels so good.

Man, how I love a vacation.

I want to photograph you with my mind, To feel how I feel now all the time

2007-02-27T17:55:00.000-05:00

Gentle. Compassionate. Loving.

The fact that I am 25 years old, and you still slip me money when no one is looking, speaks volumes to the amazing man that you are. When I was 16 it was for movies with friends, nights after football games at Applebees, accessories at teenage stores like Claire's. In college, at 20, it was for laundry, money to put on my card, for the coffee shop and for midnight snacks, sometimes for dollar drafts. Now, at 25, living on my own, making my own money, it's for gas, for a weekend away with friends, for groceries and rent, sometimes a martini or three.

Thoughtful. Tolerant. Affectionate.

When I look at you, inevitably, at some point during our visit, my eyes will fill up. I am completely overtaken with emotion. With love. So much that I cannot hold it in sometimes. You are, the most precious, genuine, kindest man I have ever known.

Patient. Cherished. Adored.

You are an amazing husband. I see the way that you look at her, the way you smile and listen to her, even though sometimes I know you can't always make out exactly what it is she's saying. She speaks softly, and you can't always hear her. I see the way you pull out her chair for her, then tuck her into the table. How you hold the arm of her coat as she slides her arm in, adjusting her just right. The way you pour her coffee and prepare it just so, and how you tell her to take more food on her plate, that she should eat all she wants. The support you give her, the encouragement. The admiration that is so very evident in your blue eyes for her. Your care and concern that she is protected and well taken care of. Your amazing, overflowing love for your precious wife.

Gracious. Happy. Sincere.

You are a wonderful father. I see the way your eyes light up when your three daughters are with you. I hear how you talk to their significant others, accepting them unconditionally. I see how you have tremendous pride in them. I catch you looking at them, when they are not looking at you. And I see the way your face lights up at that moment. The joy and genuine concern you take in their lives. The way you embrace them, not just physically, but emotionally, and in all ways really, unconditionally and always.

Cheerful. Exceptional. Funny.

You are, simply the best grandfather ever. I cannot imagine my childhood, and now my adult life, without you being a part of it. The way you slip me that money. How you tell me that I will always be your girl as you squeeze my hand. How you say to me, that you like my shoes, and comment that I'm a "hot ticket." How you show genuine interest in my life, my friends, my job, and anything that I'm pursuing. How you ask if I will always be your Valentine. The way you make me feel like the most special person ever when I'm with you. The love that I feel when I'm with you and around you, near you and beside you.

I am so lucky.

You are the most giving, kindest, most genuine, humble man that I will ever know. Your love for your family and your friends just fill my heart to the brim. You are amazing. And wonderful. And really any word in the thesaurus for extraordinary and special and sweet and caring and charismatic, it's all you. I cannot even write this without tears filling up, because I have an uncontrollable abundance of love, admiration, and honor for you. And I just can't keep it all in.

I think of you all the time. When I'm with you and when I'm not even, I think of you. I think of you as I have known you throughout my lifetime. I think of you and who you were when I never even knew you. What you were like at my age. How you were as you courted my grandmother. What kind of a son and brother you must have been. What you are doing on a Friday night while I am sipping wine, out to dinner with friends. What you did today. What you're eating for dinner tonight. What you and she are doing, right now. What you're watching on tv, and what book you are currently reading. What you are wearing and how sharp you look. Yes, I said sharp. How you have a way of touching every single person's life who you encounter, and how truly profound that is.

And I don't know if you realize this. How completely and truly wonderful you are. You have to know you are loved, because I have a feeling my words here, would be nodded and echoed by those whose lives you have touched. You are an amazing man. I feel I cannot say it enough. I think that if I repeat that, these words and these thoughts, over and over, how much I love you, how much you mean to me, how purely genuine and special you are, that maybe, just maybe, that will just keep you around here forever.

You need to be around forever. A life without you is completely unimaginable, unfathomable really.

You need to be around forever. And ever. Forever, and ever and ever.

questions of science, science and progress, do not speak as loud as my heart

2007-02-24T10:30:00.000-05:00

there were times when i clearly remember thinking that i would never ever be the same without you. and that scared me. i didnt want to be me, without you. there were days that i would walk around in a bit of a fog, because of nights spent kept awake reaching for your body that was no longer there, searching for your lingering smell on my pillow that was now gone. weekends we once spent together, were now filled with coffee shops, girlfriends, cocktails, and many tears. the journal that i started when i first felt the pangs of uncertainty about us, was being scribbled in on a daily basis now. to read it now would show a script of a very tumultuous time.

months went by and things did seem to get a little better. then a slip up. a picture would fall from the pile on my nightstand. looking through email archives id find the lyrics to love songs you used to send me. and for the next several days, it was rough. tears again, and fears. fear that, shit, no way, really? again? im going backwards? and i thought i was doing so good. ive been here before but it was months ago. why am i back here? this pattern would happen. things would be okay, then another damn slip up. and then the tears. and fears. and questioning.

then more time would go by. and weeks turned into months with no real missing you pangs. well not that brought full on tears anymore at least. i still missed you. id be kidding you if i said it was a quick and easy thing, to get over you. over us. it wasnt. it still isnt.

i dont think about you too much anymore. and when i do, at first its your smell and your arms that i miss, or your hands. then its your yelling and anger that i dont miss, and your meanness.

and i realize how far i have come.

i used to not be able to imagine me, without you. i used to not want to be me, without you. now, almost a year later, i cant imagine me with you. i cant imagine someone like me, who i have become, who i have changed into, being with someone like you.

and that's progress.

To Text or Not to Text, what the hell?

2007-02-22T20:23:00.000-05:00

The fact that we even refer to it as a slang already, is pretty unfortunate.

A "text" or "TM"... "I'll text you" or, "Didn't you get my text?"

More unfortunate is the fact that people are seriously using this form of communication to replace a phone call nowadays. Okay, there are certain situations for which I think a text is appropriate. Let's deal with these first.

When a "text" is okay:

-I'm on my way home. We're all out of milk. Did my roommate get it or should I stop?
Appropriate text: "Do we need milk?"

-You're on a date. Or we can't talk, but you have info. We obviously can't have an update over the phone that will really cover much, and clearly a text won't say much either, but we can get the point across. I wonder how your date or your night is going.
Appropriate text: "It's going well. 7/10. Good enough to miss Grey's for."

-I miss you. Yes, we just talked on the phone ten minutes ago. But your voice sounded so sweet, and I miss you in my bed. And I want you to know this.
Appropriate text: "I miss you in my bed."

-A funny one liner needs to be relayed. It doesn't require a whole phone call. In fact, it will be funnier if it's in a text which can be saved and referred to for a laugh at a later date.
Appropriate text: "I'm sitting next to a guy wearing tapered leg jeans and socks with sandals."

-American Idol is on and you want to vote for your favorite male vocalist.
Appropriate text: "

-Lastly, I would put anything in this category that is something short, to the point, quick, and that doesn't need a phone call for. If you know someone isn't near email, or can't talk on the phone, but have something quick to say. A nice comment, an "I miss you," a "hello friend," a compliment.
These are acceptable.

When a "text" is not okay:

-I'm at the bar. You're cute and you give me your number. First of all, ask for my number buddy, and call me. But giving me your number and suggesting I text you? Not mature.
Inappropriate text: "Have a good night. Here is my number. Text me if you want."
That's a turnoff. And inappropriate. And a zillion other things that do not equal a date on the horizon.

-Making plans over texts. I'm talking big plans. It's a stretch if it's something small even, but fine. Switching a time for meeting up for drinks, saying you're running late and asking if that's okay. All fine.
Inappropriate text: "Do you have plans Saturday night?"
Wrong. Don't make date plans with me over a text. And I'm really expected to engage in this back and forthness? I will probably throw my phone. This is not how to woo a girl. Pick up the phone and call me. Show some decency and take the time and effort to actually engage in a conversation. If you call me you appear interested; if you text me you appear lazy. Recognize the difference.

-Texting, binging back and forth with God knows who, constantly.
There's really no further explanation here. If I'm out to dinner with a girlfriend, I will not be texting someone else all night. If we're on a date, I don't expect you to be texting someone else all night. A little appropriate text, fine, two at the most, explained above, can slide. More than that is getting into rude territory. You appear uninterested in the one you're with, and that's also unattractive.

-You need to say something to someone. It's important. It's news. Or maybe it's not important but you want to keep in touch. You have things to say; you want to catch up.
Inappropriate text: "Hey, how are you? I hope your week is going well. Want to do something Sunday? Did I leave my sneakers at your apartment? Hope your week is going well. I have been so busy with work and everything else."
This is too much. Too long, too much info for one text. In fact, it will probably be rejected because it's too long. Or separated into two texts, and who wants to get two, choppy texts? Email me with this. Or call me. Or stop by my place and tell me. Remember, I'm getting charged for your text. Thank you very much.

I'm not totally opposed to texting. I think, like anything else, there is a time and place. There are clearly some very appropriate situations where it's called for. Probably many, many more instances where it is not. I will admit, I have probably been in the inappropriate category before. I have learned my lesson. Maybe it sounds picky, but it's the facts.

I firmly vow, here and now, to follow these above outlined rules from here on out.

This is my list. Do you have some additions?

What do you do for fun?

2007-02-22T10:40:00.000-05:00

Well, I alluded to my slight interest in it, and last night was the night.

Speed dating.

That's right. I did it. With one of my dearest friends, my red headed beauty. We got to the event, donned our name tags with our names and "number" and ordered our first rum and diet. Scoping the room, it looked as though it could be promising. Maybe. Who knows, but we were up for whatever the night had to bring, and we were keeping an open mind.

I had six dates. Each person is "supposed" to have eight, but three guys, apparently ducked out early, leaving each round with three ladies, speed-dateless. Leaving me, sipping another drink, chatting with the bartender, for two speed dates worth, sixteen minutes. He was nice, and something about him kind of intrigued me, from the get go. Like you can imagine though, a bartender at an event like this... well, it seemed like lots of the girls there were into him, and he seemed pretty into himself.

The six men I did meet were interesting. All, in their own ways. I guess, maybe, I'll check "second date" for one. After a while, repeating what I do for work, what I like to do for fun, etc., got a little old. However, I would rate the night a... 6/10. I had a good time, it was a fun, different, unique way to meet new people. I just didn't leave feeling all too enthusiastic about anyone in particular. Hmm. Maybe I just have very high expectations. I don't know.

I have the bartender's number. He wants me to text him. Yes, he actually suggested that I text him. That's a whole other subject which I clearly need to address soon. Men lately and their damn texting. What the hell is that all about? Ask for a girl's number and freaking call her, damnit.

So there you have it. All in all, a fun night. Would I do it again? Sure. In no real rush though. It was amusing and interesting, but nothing too spectacular. My red headed beauty did meet two potential second dates though, lucky her.

these thoughts are not foolish

2007-02-14T19:23:00.000-05:00

In this one you are contemplating something. You have to be, right? Your eyes are telling a story here. I just don't know what the theme is, exactly. I can't pinpoint it. I am sure that you are happy though; I can sense that. You look very comfortable, and content. Your body language is saying that you are at ease. You are sitting beside your best friend. Your eyes in this picture... you look like you've got a story to tell. What is it?

I wish I was there when this picture was taken. What were you doing at the time it was taken, or right before? You aren't flashing a full smile, but you look so happy. And pretty. Do you know that you have that capability? To just sit there, and maybe without noticing that a picture is being taken of you, or without a big grin even, you look remarkably beautiful, just being there?

Your eyes tell a story and I wonder what it is. I can sense all that I have mentioned, but I have so many questions, still. Where was this taken? Who took it? I think that I own that same exact jacket, another similarity we share among a thousand others. Where did you get it? How did you feel when that picture was taken?

You mailed this picture to me. In the real mail, with a letter you had handwritten me. Since then, I've seen many other pictures of you. It is this picture though, my friend, that sticks out in my mind. When I think of you, this is the image that comes to my mind. It is the first picture I ever saw of you. It's what I "picture," when I get a letter from you in the mail, an email, a text message, or a phone call.

There's a saying, "a picture is worth a thousand words." Well this picture is no exception. Seeing this picture, after corresponding with you for several months, gave me such a good feeling inside. I can't even really describe it in the words that would be able to capture the emotion that I feel when I look at it. When I first saw that picture, I could tell that you were kind, and warm. Happy and intelligent. Fashion savvy and confident. Humorous and easygoing. Content and at ease. You seemed, back then, like someone I would be friends with, in real life. We started out as penpals, but I honestly believe we have developed a friendship that will last a lifetime. Although we have never met in real life, I wait in eager anticipation for that day. We will have the best time together. I just know this. I can tell, based on that one picture of you. We were destined to be friends.

I'm a sucker for...

2007-02-13T20:58:00.000-05:00

Stolen from my friend Brooke, who stole it from Ari (who I was going to steal it from anyway).

I'm a sucker for...

-My mom's voice, and her hugs.
-Falling asleep in someone's arms. Cuddling. Maybe in bed, on a rainy afternoon. Maybe on a summer afternoon, in the middle of the park, reading a book together, on a blanket.
-A man in a button down, blue shirt. With a nice pair of shoes, and appropriate socks. An old spice scent or otherwise yummy/clean smell. This is a turn on.
-Kissing the top of a baby's head.
-Making out.
-Maine.
-Having my hair played with, or brushed.
-The ache after a good workout.
-Unhealthy pub food. Beer battered mozzarella sticks. Nachos. Spinach and artichoke dip. Jalapeno poppers. This, on a chilly day, tucked into a corner booth in a towny bar. With pitchers of beer and good friends.
-Strappy slingbacks. Sandals. Flip flops. Knee high boots.
-Shoes in general.
-The smell of fresh cut grass.
-A crisp, professional outfit with a spec of sass. An understated lacy cami under a cardigan, or a blazer. A crisp shirt, a skirt, and knee high boots. A bold color mixed in with black. A tiny touch of bling.
-Autumn.
-Banana Boat sunscreen, that coconut smell mmmmmm.
-That spot on a boy. In that under chin/neck/collar bone area. The nook. The spot.
-My morning coffee at Dunkin Donuts, and the employees there. They barely speak a sentence of English but they are the friendliest people in the world, and they are genuine. They make my morning, every morning.
-Taking pictures. Black and white, for certain ones.
-Candles. Yummy ones, from Yankee Candle, or Bath and Body Works even. And aromatherapy ones.
-Nice lighting.
-Spinach, feta, and egg white omelets.
-Thongs from Victoria's Secret. And those IPEX bras, you know the ones. Way too expensive, but so good for the girls.
-Doritos, really, either kind. I seldom eat them, but when I do, I can rip through a bag like none other.
-Full house re-runs.
-Any, and all accessories.
-Chick flicks. Lifetime movies.
-And ohmygod, Jason Lewis.
-My alone time in the car, 45 minutes to and from work each day.
-Moisturizing.
-Willard Scott and his Smucker's birthdays.
-Handwritten letters and cards.
-Pumpkin seeds. Pirates booty.
-Sex and the City, obviously.
-Lip gloss. I will never have enough.
-A man with a good head of hair. That I can touch and play with. With not too much product, at all, gross.
-Unexpected phone calls, or texts.
-The ocean.
-A big glass of chocolate milk.
-Joshua Radin.
-My best friends, their smiles, and laughter.

I could go on forever, and ever. Are you a sucker for anything?

The Sounds of Silence

2007-02-13T06:29:00.000-05:00

"I got grossed out, danced some more, some guy poked me with his boner for an entire song, got grossed out, gave a fake number to some guy who asked me, his name was Boston, left this bar around 7 in the morning."

This is why I love this girl. B may be oceans away, six hours apart, and while she's sitting in a cafe for lunch eating fruit, and cheese, and a baguette, I'm hitting snooze and coming up with an excuse to skip the gym. But this, emails that contain contents such as the sample above, are why I know that no matter how far apart, how long I don't see this girl, how many weeks we go without talking, that she is one of my very best friends, and will be, forever.

mail (and male) news

2007-02-09T14:35:00.000-05:00

This week has been busy. I like having plans, and being busy, but it seems like lately I haven't had any after work time to do much relaxing. That's usually okay, because I enjoy being busy and everything, having things to do. This week I was wishing for some extra time that I just didn't have. Between the new class I'm taking, dinner plans with friends, running around to the post office, appointments and meetings, I've gotten myself a cold. So, I plan to do a Friday night thing like e.b. has, this evening. It's what I need. I have Grey's to catch up on and Stephanie Klein is going to be on 20/20 and I missed her the first time. Sweet.

A girlfriend and I have signed up for a speed dating event. And by signed up, I mean we are on some waiting list, pending the confirmation of at least eight men and eight women. It's at a bar in Faneuil Hall, and it looks like it will be an interesting time... to say the least. If it all works out, it's in a couple weeks on a Wednesday night. I'm sure that will be good blogging material.

And through that little endeavor, we were encouraged to sign up for some dating site associated with the event (which I have since canceled my membership to). It was something random and seemed like it would at least be amusing. Through the several 40+ men who have emailed me through the site, stating that "I know I'm out of ur age range but 'ur hott,' just thought I'd tell ya," (who talks like that?) I have found one potential interest. (Is that the lingo I'd use? Interest?) Anyway, I'll call him Gym Guy, because he actually teaches phys ed to first through eighth graders (how cute, right?), and does some personal training on the side. We've exchanged a few emails back and forth and he seems friendly, and like someone I'd want to get to know better. So, we're in the talks of setting up a rendezvous soon. Other than that, I'm done with the website as I just wasn't finding anyone really interesting.

So there's Gym Guy, and one other new friend on the scene. I met him through one of my best friends. He's The Co-Worker. I met him last week for the first time, after several apple martinis, on an empty stomach. Right. Great first impression. So we made plans for a second meeting, which was last night. He seems very nice, but I don't know if that might end up taking more of a friend turn? I'd be interested, but I couldn't read much more than just a friend vibe from him. And that would be totally okay if that's all it was. I guess it's too early to really know much more. I guess we'll just see what happens.

That's about it here. I'm so ready to be home, out of my heels, in my slippers, on the couch, just vegging. It's what I need.
Happy Friday.

I got lost in the sounds I hear in my mind

2007-02-05T17:44:00.000-05:00

It's been almost a year since you and him broke up. Since the last straw, the final end. You made that end decision quickly, at least that's what it seemed like. You came home that day, walked in and sat on the couch, with tears coming down your face. You didn't need to say the words, I just knew. You told me that you couldn't do it anymore. You were crying, and I put my arms around you, and you put your head on my shoulder. I didn't know what to say. I knew, with my whole heart that you had made the right decision, but I could see the pain that you felt. I could feel it on you, on me while I held you. I just wanted to take all of that pain away, make it be all over. I couldn't do it.

You tried to smile and said that you thought you had made the right decision. You talked about how hard it was, to tell him that it was over. You had been through so much in just these past several months. You said it felt like a lifetime.

A few months later, you would tell me how you still thought of him. How it was the hardest decision you ever had to make, to leave him. That you left him, still in love. You would tell me how you still thought of him, all of the time. Still felt him there with you in the middle of the night. Craved his touch, his smell. How things didn't seem to be getting any better. Not at all. You asked me if I thought you would ever be able to fully get over him. I told you that it would take some time, that I was always there for you. You apologized for feeling like a downer. For still talking about him, over beers and soft lighting, months later. You said you were embarrassed because you should be over him by now. But that you didn't know how to do it.

I remember that afternoon, in Barnes and Noble, when you told me you thought the guy drinking his coffee in the corner was attractive. And I felt so happy for you. You said it was the first time you felt something, for someone else. You actually got excited about this guy. When he asked for your number, you looked so pretty, graciously giving it to him, sweeping your long hair behind you ear.

At times like these, it began to seem like you were doing better. I told you this, how much happier you seemed now. After several martinis one night, we were in the kitchen, making scrambled eggs. Your eyes filled up. You confessed that you were trying with all of your heart to put up the strength that we all saw. You said how much you still missed him, how hard it still continued to be. You said your heart still ached.

I wanted so badly to make everything all better for you. I could feel your pain again, that night, and I remember how frustrated I was with myself because I didn't know how to make it all better for you. You hurting, it was so awful for me to see you go through. You didn't deserve it.

And here we are; it's been several months since the eggs and tears. It's been almost a year since the end and the couch that afternoon you came home and told me. You haven't dated much since then. You seem happier now. I check in now and then with you, to see how you're doing, about him. You say you don't think of him much anymore. But that you are getting nervous for the upcoming holiday, and the one after that. Most of us hope that part of your life is way in the past by now, that it doesn't cross your mind anymore. Because you seem interested in other people, other things. You don't mention anymore how that song reminds you of him, how your bed seems so big, how you miss his presence, and his hands. You always told me how you missed his hands.

What you went through was really shitty. But you have grown so much. You are a stronger person from what you went through. I know that you don't always see it. You brush it off. It's what you do. But I know you. And I know how much he meant to you. And it's okay to still think about him. It's okay to dream about him, and wonder. It's normal, and it's okay. He was your first true love.

It doesn't go away that easily.

random Friday musings

2007-02-02T07:24:00.000-05:00

-Today I realized, that I can only eat an apple holding it so that my thumb is at the bottom and my other fingers are at the stem. It's like this, for either hand. Try it, you'll see what I mean. Any other way feels oddly, unbearably uncomfortable.

-This season is really, really no good for my skin. No matter how much lotion I keep applying to my face, it's still dry.

-The Gap has some really cheap perfume, body splash, and lotion on clearance- the older scents like "Grass" and "Om." I bought the Om a few weeks ago and it's one of my new staples.

-Speaking of staples/staplers, I rarely ever use one. At work, I'm more apt to go for a paperclip or a folder.

-I miss cuddling with someone. And that spot. That little spot on a man's neck between their chin and collar bone. I love that there. I think Carrie Bradshaw called it the "nook" on Aiden. I actually remember feeling cool at the time that Carrie Bradshaw liked that spot too. I miss going there, and cuddling.

-I love milk so much that I sometimes wake up thinking of it. This morning I made myself a tall glass of chocolate milk before getting ready.

-I'm all out of contacts. I'm supposed to wear mine for a month, and obviously everyone goes past the month mark. I think I'm on month three. And my right contact has a little tear. And I'm still wearing it. It doesn't bother me... yet, but I know it will, soon. I need to order new ones, but I've been avoiding it, because I just don't want to spend the money. I have glasses, and I guess I could bust them out if need be.

-I really wish I was going home to a kitten sleeping on my bed tonight.

-I think that Thursday nights are one of my most favorite times. Grey's Anatomy, I know that Friday is coming, one more work day, and the weekend.

-I'm very critical of myself. I hardly am satisfied with a picture taken of me.

-I look forward to happy hour today.

Happy Friday blog buddies.

but you, you're the catalyst

2007-01-31T21:37:00.000-05:00

he wrote back. to that email that i wrote last week. maybe two days later, he emailed back. he's sorry, and we're best friends and i've always been there for him. and he'll always be there for me, as a best friend. that he realizes he hasn't done a good job at that role lately, but he'll always be there, as a best friend.

he made that part pretty clear. the friend thing. i got it. repeated twice, i got the point. i wasn't looking for a long lengthy response from him. i just wanted him to hear me. i think he did. i did needed to be reminded, i was doing this for me, to finally, tell him how i felt. this was about me. i needed to stop pretending like things didn't bother me, when they did. that things didn't upset me, that left me bawling into my teddy bear's paw. that i didn't need a quick bathroom therapy session, in the middle of a party.

i think i got that point across to him. in not so many words, it was clear. i had been sending him mixed messages and i took ownership for that. he knows that i wish i'd known things sooner. he knows now that i am upset with the way it went down, but it is what it is, and i view this as my catalyst to begin moving on.

which is what i'm doing. i feel better now at least knowing that he knows how i feel. how it felt, to not hear it from him. how it feels to know that things are different. he knows that i was, that i am, upset, but that what's done is done. he knows that i think everything happens for a reason. and that i don't hate him. and that now i can begin moving on. it's time to do that. it has been coming for a while.

and i guess that's my mini update, in case you were dying to know.

walking on walking on broken glass

2007-01-30T07:41:00.000-05:00

Just the week before, my best friend Drew had gone up on there to hang the weekly events calendar. And Drew wasn't scrawny. He was built; he had a swimmer's body, in very good shape, muscular. He was on the taller side, definitely an athletic build. And no one thought twice about him getting up on the glass display case. I guess it was actually viewed more as a table, for the love of God, I don't know why, but it was. And it was a weekly occurrence. Whoever was on desk duty the day it needed to be changed, would hop up on the glass case, and change the weekly calendar. It was never questioned. Never thought it might not be a good idea.

Until it wasn't. A good idea. Writing this right now, is giving me the feeling. My heart is pounding faster, I'm that girl who chomps her gum neurotically that I hate, and my palms are sweating. Aaron, you owe me one, big time.

It wasn't a big deal. I finished coloring in the smiling, sunglassed sun, scribbled in "open swim" for Friday afternoon, and proceeded to the case to hang up the events calendar. The case, was about waist high, maybe three or four feet long, and housed random swimming paraphernalia- goggles, bathing caps, water bottles, etc. I took off my flip flops, and quickly hopped up on the case. I'm on top of the glass case, kneeling. I had placed the poster sized calendar on the counter next to me, so I had to reach over for it. I shifted my weight, from both knees, to more on my left. I think I just had my left hand on top of the glass, supporting my left side at this point. And all of a sudden, it shattered. I crashed. Through the whole display case.

Glass.Everywhere.
And blood. All over.

Holy shit. You can imagine the noise this must have made. I honestly don't remember much of this after the falling part. I remember people rushing into the outdoor-like lobby. You can see the pool from the desk in the lobby, and the display case is/was in the corner. So people heard it, and they rushed in. It didn't even hurt. The cut was so deep, (stop reading now if you're skeeved out about blood and things of the like- I don't even know how I'm writing this) you could see the bone. Eww, the bone. At least that's what I've been told. I don't even remember what it looked like at the time. I just remember glass, and blood, everywhere.

I guess I thought it wasn't as bad as it was, because I started to get up, thinking it was just a minor cut. I was wrong. The ambulance showed up, and I remember that one person could ride in the back with me. I was 17 at the time, I think, and I had a good friend who was 16, also a lifeguard there. I wanted her to come with me, but my boss ended up insisting upon it. The boss that was always the biggest bitch and the last person there that day that I wanted in the back with me. And Drew wasn't even there. I wanted him there to hold my hand and tell me it would be okay.

I barely remember the ride there, but I remember getting to the hospital, and waiting. My mother was in a meeting and was unreachable, in Boston for the day. My father was at work, but luckily they got a hold of him. He called my mom, who was taken out of this big conference she was at, and they both came to the hospital. The rest is a little foggy. I had to get reconstructive surgery, because the cut was that bad. It was my muscle and everything- and it wasn't just stitchable. It needed full on surgery to reconstruct... my leg. Eww. To this day, glass really freaks me out. Glass and blood.
And poor Drew. He came into work later in the day for his shift, to find the swim club closed for business. And it was him who had to clean up the the glass, the bloody mess, my blood, that was now in the spot that once was the display cases home.

Wicked sucks. Gross. I have a big scar on my knee, and a small one on my left pinky. I guess it's a "cool" story, but not one I like to talk about too much, mainly because it just skeeves me out. But it is random, and kind of a "no way!" type of thing to bust out if the conversation is dull at a dinner party. Maybe I should have told Mr. Dinner Date that one.

Lesson learned: DO NOT kneel on glass display cases. Not safe.

blind dinner date

2007-01-27T11:03:00.000-05:00

Tonight I'm going on a date. I haven't been on a real, date, date since... well, since maybe May? and it's not even a real, date, date. It's dinner. And it's with two other couples. And it's kind of a blind dinner, of sorts. I met up with an old friend a couple weeks ago for coffee, and just happen to mention that maybe I'm ready to start dating. and to keep any single men in mind. two days later, she called me about Mr. Dinner Date. He is her boyfriend's college roommate. so after a few emails were exchanged back and forth between said friend and I, I found out that Mr. Dinner Date:
1- Is very, very nice
2- He knows how to "treat a girl"
3- He went to an engineering school, he IS an engineer, which means, he's likely intelligent
4- He's very quiet
5- He's "not drop dead gorgeous"
6- He likes to cook

Because I haven't been on a date, date, in way too long, I figure I need to be open minded. I have, absolutely not a thing to lose here. The only thing that has be a spec leery is #4. I just haven't dated a real quiet guy before. Although, she says I'm the type that will be able to open him up. Really? We exchanged pictures. And he's not bad looking. He looks.... well, nice. And plain. And somewhat attractive, and if he's funny (which I hope to God he is, that's a big, big turn on), then I know I'll be that much more attracted to him.

So, it's dinner for 6 of us, at um 6pm, at her house. I'm meeting him there; I'm bringing the wine. And I may just have a glass or two to get ready for this before I go.

Afterall, it's been a while.

five things you don't know already

2007-01-25T22:04:00.000-05:00

I was tagged by Joy for this one.

Post five things about yourself that you have never posted about before.

1. I have a graduate degree in Counseling. A specific type. And I got it by doing a five year program in school, where I took graduate courses my senior year of college, and had one additional year, and viola!- I had my degree with only one additional year of school. Not a bad deal, eh?

2. I once fell through a glass display case when I was working as a lifeguard in 1998. I have a big scar on my knee as a result. I hate this story, totally gives me the creeps.

3. I LOVE elderly people. I have a Certificate in Gerontolgy. I think old people are amazing- even cranky ones. I just love them.

4. I'm a little OCD about checking certain things. ie: my hair straightener to make sure it's off, that I have the right lip gloss in my purse, directions, over and over to make sure I've got them right.

5. I once spent a week in a convent. I know, shocking and really, pretty unbelievable. I was on a week long volunteer/mission type program in college. Two people needed to stay in the convent as our living quarters were slim pickings. My friend and I volunteered and it was one of the most memorable experiences ever. I had a blast.

Brooke and Copasetic Fish you're it!

enough

2007-01-24T22:59:00.000-05:00

That little situation, that I felt "ready" to write about? Well it hasn't really gotten better, or resolved one way or the other. The whole ball that dropped was that I found out that he and his girlfriend are now living together. The catch is, I still, have not, heard this news from him. I've heard it from everyone but him. His sister, his grandparents, his best friends, his mom. I'm not kidding. It's everyone, but it's not him. And that's what gets me the most. That given the relationship/non-relationship we had, it would make sense to me, well, that he tell me. And okay, he's "busy" and he "just got a new car" and he's "helping her move in" and he "hasn't thought about telling me"... but come on? You cannot tell me that he can't be assuming that I haven't heard, by now. It's been, almost three weeks since I heard the news, not from him. Oh, I already mentioned that.

So I figured, my options were simple. Either, keep on keeping on, like this. Being frustrated, kind of angry, hurt, and upset, and say nothing about it to him, while I wait. OR, I could say something. It's that simple. I knew it would have to be over email, because I couldn't do the phone call thing right now, too much. I'm one who tends to believe that there is no use in complaining about something that you are unhappy with, if you aren't making any steps to change the circumstances. So, I think I have had my allowed sad time. Then it was the frustrated period and the kind of ticked off stage. And now, it's the had it stage. So I had to do something. I couldn't complain about something I wasn't going to do anything about, any longer.

And so I emailed him. After lots of thought, back and forths of should I? and is it worth it? I decided I have to, and yes. I couldn't just continue to wait and wait, and say nothing about this, anymore. My intention was to try and be direct and to the point. Not overly friendly, but not bitchy either. Blunt and clear. Finally letting him know that this news is hurtful, yet none the less, if it's what brings him happiness, then for that I am happy.

I guess now it's more of the waiting game. When he'll read it and what he'll say. At least I finally got it out there though. Sucks it didn't come from him to begin with and I needed to drag it out of him. But really, enough is enough.

Is enough.

Gabes

2007-01-22T21:49:00.000-05:00

My ipod? Was missing today. Yeah, shit. And I've lost my wallet before, and had to do all that retracing my steps bit, racking my brain for what I did, where I could have put it down, dropped it, or forgotten it. I am unfortunately, all too familiar with that story. It happens to me, with lots of things.... like, my camera's battery charger. I swear, I lose that thing after every time I charge it back up. Or it's my phone charger when I'm about to go away for a weekend. A disk with something important on it, like my updated resume that I need to print. It's my pill, or my contact case. Things I bring with me on overnight excursions, and usually neurotically check to make sure are all packed back up, safe and sound, but then? I can't find them. You would think, that by now, I'd have a "safe place" for all these things, right? No, wrong. Because no place can really be safe, when you consider everywhere safe. My problem is, I have too many special safe spots. I'm constantly putting things neatly into corners of my room, bottom desk drawers, under my bed. So when I lose something, I look around, everywhere, and I can't remember which safe place x or y is this time. And when I lose something like this, I become grouchy and irritable. I frustrate easily, I can be bitchy. I'm skrinkering around everywhere, looking here and there and who the f knows where, and I'm not coming up with what I need. I'm looking in places that should never have been deemed safe to begin with: the victorias secret bag at the end of my bed, my backpack that I haven't used in 6 months. I become a nut when I can't find something that I want, or need.

Right, so today, when I realized it was my beloved ipod as the item of the day, I was really, really going wild. My sweet little ipod. Gabes. (I got this ipod over a year ago. My friend told me I could get it engraved with my name, so I flip it over, and oops- already had a name. Gabes. My father, who bought it for me as a gift, hadn't been told by ebay that my ipod had apparently been previously owned. By Gabes.) I use my Gabes allthetime. At the gym in the morning, in my room getting ready for work, sometimes in my car, in the office- all day long, to fall asleep, and wake up to. I need my Gaves. So finding out, when I got to work today that Gabes wasn't with me? Wicked sucked. I was scared. Freaking. I just could not focus. My only source of music then, was random pickings of cds from the 90's disc gear I keep in my office. We're talking... Natalie Merchant, Craig David , the Cranberries. Clearly, you see the problem here.

Until, I found out, thanks to T who checked for me when she got home, that Gabes was happily sitting on my bed, just waiting my arrival. And this is how it goes. These things, I lose them, time and time again, and always, I swear, they will turn up right in front of my freakin nose. Isn't that always the way?

I'm going to light a candle, get a good book, and ask Gabes for some background Joshua Radin.

the one I think I'm ready to write

2007-01-18T15:43:00.000-05:00

***I have a few reservations about posting this. But I think it's time. And, after all the encouragement I got to my other day's acting up nerves, I say- fuck it, I'm ready for this.***

Even before I found out the news last week, I knew I needed to begin to create some distance. I didn't really want to do it, not talk as much, email as much, create that change in our relationship. But this has been going on for years. Years. This friendship, that we both know, is more than just "a friendship." There's always been a reason. You were involved with someone else, I was dating someone, I was getting over a bad relationship, you were getting over your serious thing with her. You live across the country. We see each other maybe five times a year. Always something, something that kept us apart. That never gave us the real opportunity to give the us that we had in mind a try. At least not a try beyond the constant time we'd spend together when we were both in the same city. And it was that time that we spent together, that I've been hanging on to, for years. Years.

Throughout the years, I've had other relationships, we both have. I have always put you on a pedestal. It felt good having you there. Comparing every single guy I meet, to you. No one really measured up. I have had this idealistic picture of you, or us, in my mind. For years. It wasn't the relationship that you and I once had or anything, that I was comparing to. We never have had a real anything other than this thing. It has been the idea in my head. Of what you could be to me, what we could be to each other, what we could be together, . But I never really knew. And I have based years, on the idea of what could be, an unknown potential.

And I know, as well as you, our friends, and our families, that it isn't just me that's doing this based on nothing. It's your way with me. It's our way together. The way you also compare other girls to me. The way we are when we're together, how carefree it is, how much fun we have, the chemistry we share. I began to wonder though, is what I've been hanging on to, more the idea of what could be, based actually on nothing really concrete, rather than any hard core evidence? Who's to say we would even be a right thing together? I have thought we could be good together, I have hoped we could be good together. I've prayed it and cried for it. Literally dreamt of it, wrote about it, therapied about it. But neither of us never really know. The what if thing? It can be fun, but after a while? It's no longer a game.

That was all okay, for so long, it was just what worked. What came naturally for the two of us. I look back now, and I realize, we were in a non-relationship relationship. I don't even know what we were. But it was all okay. It was fine, it worked. Until it wasn't. Until it didn't anymore. It doesn't now.

You are with someone new. Your first serious relationship. And I knew this, over the past couple of months. I knew because you did the comparison thing again. I felt sad because I felt I was getting mixed messages, but I was sending them too. I wasn't okay with hearing all about it. It wasn't easy to just go along and seem all okay with things. I was never completely okay with it, but what was my other choice? I think you've known all along how I feel about you. I have never been ambiguous about that. Everyone knew. It's out there. It just is. It radiates when we're together. It hasn't gone unnoticed. It's impossible.

So things have changed. Even before I found out the seriousness of you and her relationship, I knew I needed to make a shift. Some distance. Less refreshing my inbox for an email, less time spent thinking about a phone call here and very seldom there. More time focusing on me, and moving on. Because the way it is, the way it had been, for so many reasons it felt so very right. But it has had a hold of me for so long, I didn't think I would know myself without it. I think I was scared to actually make the break from it.

The change, the shift in our relationship, well it was something I was going to do no matter what. The time came, that I just needed to do it. I felt so torn, sad to do it, but happy about the possibility of letting the burden go a little. Finding out that you and her are even more serious than you had let on, hearing that from other people and not yet from you, well that was the push I needed. As hard as it was, and as upset and devastated that I was about it all, it was what needed to happen. Unfortunately it's a forced distance, but it's there none the less, and it's needed to happen.

I will never regret the strong hold this has all had on me. I think you are a wonderful, extraordinary person with amazing qualities, and I know that you will make someone very happy. I want you to be happy. You mean so much to me. For now, I need to make myself happy. Happy with myself. It's time. Things change, relationships change, people move on, they move forward, and sometimes backwards, and they grow. I will never for a minute, regret any of this, of all of that, of our time and our non-relationship relationship or whatever it had been. It, you, will always hold a special place in my heart. The shift now will be interesting to see pan out. How we will go from what we were to something different. We've always been us as we know, as our friends and family know. I'm not saying I'm not a little nervous. But it feels... well, it feels different than I thought it would. I feel okay. I'm more okay than I thought I'd be. I know that things change, and that change isn't a bad thing. And for us, it was time. I'm ready, for the love of sweet baby J, I'm ready.

admiration

2007-01-17T19:57:00.000-05:00

After writing yesterday's post, at such an appropriate time, I came across Stephanie Klein's most recent blog. I have been reading her blog for months now. Once I found her blog, I found her book. It's one of my favorites. I admire Stephanie for her candor and her honesty. For strong attitude, for her strength, her humor, her humility. For not being afraid to say "fuck it," and tell it like it is. She's honest and she's real. She's an inspiration for me, and her words today really found me at the right time.

time and practice

2007-01-16T17:45:00.000-05:00

Clearly, my last couple of posts haven't been all too upbeat. They've been downright... downers. Last week, I was wallowing in the throws of it all, feeling bad about the current situation I was in, what had happened, how it had all went down, and I just didn't have anything all too good, or positive to write about.

It's times when I write about that stuff that I wonder, how much anonymity should I have on here? I could have very well not been so vague about what was going on. Could have said what happened, why I was upset. On this blog, I have never really said my first name, although others have, in reply to some of my posts. I haven't said where I live, where I grew up, anything much about the siblings I don't have, or the job I'm not too thrilled with. There hasn't been anything really specific so that if you were a semi acquaintance, you'd think this was me. And sometimes I wonder, whether I should talk more about that stuff, more of the meat, less of the fluff. I wonder really, what would be the big deal if people did recognize me from here? There's nothing I'm really hiding. But sometimes, I think, I wouldn't want T to see THIS POST, or C to see THIS. But why? What's the big deal? So some of this is probably news to them, but what's the biggie? And aren't I just being honest, and isn't honesty the best thing? Hmm... I wonder. How much is too much? How much isn't really enough? (When) will people, will I, become bored with my writing, and look at it more as just observations and sometimes random thoughts of a regular girl, some laughs and some tears, but feel that all this, is lacking in depth?

Maybe it's still just a lot of the newness of it. Still getting my feet wet with all if this. I started this blog as a way to work on my writing. To have a log to look back on, to see where I've been, how far I've come, and what I've learned along the way. To meet new people. To learn about myself. So really, (and I know this, I just need to be reminded of it), I know that I owe no one an explanation, no justification for this or that. That this thing, it is what it is. I'd say it's a pretty accurate reflection of what's going on for me at the time, my mood and emotions, my feelings and observations. Perhaps it's all more me, just needing to be more confident, with all of this.
And in time, I hope I get there. The more practice, the better I will feel about it all, I suppose.

-Meg

i don't know

2007-01-12T11:11:00.000-05:00

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

Ouch

2007-01-09T20:19:00.000-05:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

the only thing that stays the same is change

2007-01-05T18:00:00.000-05:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

have me

2007-01-04T21:15:00.000-05:00

say those words, like that, so sweetly

laugh out loud, like that

be goofy and silly with me, like we do

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

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

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

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

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

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

and put me in a situation, like this

and just like that, like this, you have me

you always have

back to reality

2007-01-02T17:51:00.000-05:00

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

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

places, and drinks

2006-12-28T17:52:00.000-05:00

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

35 years from now

2006-12-25T19:31:00.000-05:00

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

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

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

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

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

availability in all shapes and forms

2006-12-22T08:11:00.000-05:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'm a Carrie

2006-12-21T08:11:00.000-05:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

I need to stop this

2006-12-13T19:48:00.001-05:00

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

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

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

I'll pick 5:30AM instead

2006-12-12T20:35:00.000-05:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jury Duty

2006-12-11T21:53:00.000-05:00

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

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

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

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

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

forever always seems to be around when things begin

2006-12-06T16:01:00.000-05:00

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

someday

2006-12-04T17:58:00.001-05:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Home

2006-11-28T21:05:00.000-05:00

November 27, 2006

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The rest of "about moi"

2006-11-15T17:57:00.000-05:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

49. I really value my independence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

59. I love Italian subs, with hots please.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2006-11-13T22:39:00.000-05:00

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

Unit it wasn't.

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

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

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

I am so sorry.

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

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

Talk to you soon,
M