tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82638650383406717742023-11-15T07:43:07.298-08:00Why Won't He Say What You Want to HearDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09553446998172625739noreply@blogger.comBlogger181125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8263865038340671774.post-78733257760812168852018-06-23T22:11:00.001-07:002018-06-23T22:11:13.053-07:00HaterI hate that my best friend isn't talking to me for something she did. And I hate that I don't have the energy to call her out on it. I fear that she'll turn it around on me and find someway to make this my fault. Spoiler alert- it's really not. I hate that I try to feel comfortable with picking up wine and gnocchi alone on a Saturday night but really hate it. I hate that's been 4 years and I don't know if I've let anyone really in during that time. I hate that the hits keep coming and I'm just used to it all at this point. Ducking and trying to fight back and really just reacting to each battle that comes. I have no real updates or growths on myself because everything else takes over. What I want and who I am have fallen to the wayside. I fall and don't fall into a life at the same time. So instead, I watch a lot of The Mindy Show and miss New York. And I buy lots of shoes online after finishing the bottle of wine and miss when I walked cobblestone steps fearlessly. And I hate that I have to wait till tomorrow to feel better, but I do. I wait. And I hope that sometime soon I'll have the courage to chase the things I want and not hate the things I'm used to.Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09553446998172625739noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8263865038340671774.post-40283155804261597612017-02-21T22:58:00.002-08:002017-02-21T22:58:32.880-08:00Hi againSo I'm still around and still attempting to keep a blog. I'll have more regular entries soon but in the meantime here's where I'm at- would love if you could follow- hope everyone is well!<br />
http://whatis32.blogspot.com/Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09553446998172625739noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8263865038340671774.post-82421554020172171902014-02-25T21:29:00.001-08:002014-02-25T21:32:55.153-08:00New Mind Space<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>One of the gentleman suitors I left behind recently asked me if I'd ever considered moving back</b>...and it's kinda funny cause even though I've only been gone a month I've never not missed anything more. And the thought never crossed my mind once.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I mean no disrespect to my friends- who I miss daily, but I don't miss the city. Like at all. I don't miss the buildings or loud horns or crowded smelly streets or anxiety. Because the move happened so fast I thought I'd feel this uneasiness here, like I ran away or have been uprooted but I feel the opposite.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Like I said before I feel more grounded here then I have in a long time and I think having my own place has a lot to do with that. My very own santuary. I always knew I'd want to live alone eventually but had no idea how calming and pleasant it is. I feel kinda like a queen or something just floating around in my own space, doing whatever I want...openly farting, singing, dancing.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The only furniture I have is my new bedroom set so I eat meals on a TV tray on my bed right now but in the next couple weeks I'll be getting more essentials. I have never used pinterest before and have found it totally addicting. I've lost hours on that site and I still don't 100% understand it. Buying furniture is a kind of panic I've never felt before because if I buy one thing that's tinted the wrong color or an inch too big the whole place is ruined and I'll start over...not really but you get it.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I think about my ex boyfriend sometimes but not like I used to. When I think of him and look at pictures or his facebook I get a very familiar de ja vu feeling. It's like those few moments when you wake up and you remember a dream but all you can picture is a couple things, not a full image. And you feel sentimental for a brief second but then the image becomes so fragmented you're able to move on from it quickly and easily. It's like trying to think about a memory that was never fully real. You can't miss it or be sad about not having it because there's nothing filling whatever it is you're trying to remember. So letting go to it is the most natural thing you've ever done...like blinking or sighing or openly farting in your own apartment.</span><br />
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Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09553446998172625739noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8263865038340671774.post-61176067257750746572014-02-10T21:35:00.001-08:002014-02-10T21:35:14.506-08:00The ...<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Sometime between last June and 2 weeks ago I realized I was reliving all the worst parts of my early 20s.</b> And without the ease of painless hangovers. I was in the middle of my 10th year in the greatest city in the world but wasn't feeling so great. I couldn't remember why I was here. I was making choices I didn't like and felt less secure than when I had braces and breakouts. Being as close to NYC as possible was once my dream and I realized I didn't know the next part of my dream. I was suddenly very awake. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Did I want to find someone to settle down with, did I want a different job, did I want to go to grad school? Well, it turns out I wanted none of those things. All I knew is I couldn't keep doing what I was doing- waiting to be happy while living in the same repeat cycle. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I felt like the opening montage of Reality Bites which would be good, but at 29 it was exhausting and depressing. Everyone I knew had at least upgraded to <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0105415/" target="_blank">Singles</a> or even <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0113986/" target="_blank">9 Months</a> but I was still montaging. (I'm in a 90's movie kick for some reason)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Anyways, enough vagueness-<a href="http://damnthose3littlewords.blogspot.com/2012/07/the-2nd-bottle.html" target="_blank">the Ex and I broke up again</a> in October (not shocking) and I still hadn't <a href="http://damnthose3littlewords.blogspot.com/2013/06/perhaps-i-was-unclear.html" target="_blank">found a job in Jan '14 </a>and more friends were getting engaged while I was back to bar hookups and deciding drinking every night at my local bar was a good cure-all so when I got a job offer in Boston at the end of Jan. I said hellz yes and left New York. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I've been in Boston for over a week and things are going well. And by well I mean- I'm living with my brother, have an hour commute into work, pulled between friends/family, still paying rent in NYC, driving regularly for the first time in 10 years and living out of a suitcase BUT I absolutely think I made the right move. I'm even less tethered than I was in NYC but I feel more mentally together and focused than I have in a year. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I'll update soon but just wanted to let you know to keep following me here on this blog. I realized there's no reason to start totally over somewhere else when really all I'm doing is just continuing. </span>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09553446998172625739noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8263865038340671774.post-91577084449391412872013-09-04T20:25:00.001-07:002013-09-04T20:25:14.096-07:00My Next Step<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I don't like goodbyes. I realized I may be slightly obsessed with vampires because of their lack of goodbyes. I feel like I could've said goodbye to this blog for awhile but I wasn't sure how. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I wish I could say I'm ending this blog because a new chapter has been turned...like I got a new job when really I'm temping at the company that laid me off or I'm moving when really I just resigned my lease, or we're engaged when really our pacing hasn't changed, or he said I love you when really he hasn't (worldwide groan).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Things are starting to build up and starting to bother me. Others seem to have this very natural way to move forward and I'm a little stuck. I want things to change, I'm just not sure on the direction.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I mostly want more out of my relationship but I don't know what. I'm happy where things are but I know I need to figure out where my heart lies in future stages in order to sort out the present. Whenever I think about next steps a fog rolls in on me and I don't have a clear image. I think it has a lot to do with 2 things- my parents separation and me not having my first relationship till I was 24. I'm a tad emotionally stunted in sharing my life with someone. I clearly don't know fully how.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">My mother seems to think that when I meet the right guy then this image becomes clear but I don't believe that. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I think it has to do with my own comfort level with those 'Bridget Jones' next steps as I get older...meeting parents, moving in, marriage. It all involves giving up a part of myself I just don't know how to let go of. It's like I'm missing these puzzle pieces. I know I should want to give up these parts as I merge more with my boyfriend's own parts but I keep hitting a road block.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I always felt I would address all of these things in therapy when I was ready and now's the time for me. Time to call in the shrinkadink. I can't progress and evolve without figuring out what I want and my relationship can't either...no matter who I'm with. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So I'm stopping posts and will start a new blog as soon as I feel I have reading worthy content to share with you all. This blog has been an amazing outlet and source of support over the past years and I appreciate all my commenters and followers. Stay tuned...</span>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09553446998172625739noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8263865038340671774.post-21763968365826770962013-07-07T22:45:00.001-07:002013-07-07T22:45:18.990-07:00The Burn<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>I’m really starting to think there’s something in the universe that just doesn’t want me to be intimate with the BF.</b> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">I met him after a beach day with friends this weekend and was looking forward to some quality time, if you know what I mean. Within an hour I realized my chest and upper thighs were bright pink and not in a sexy way. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">And just like that, my mojo had burned in the sun just like the first layer of my skin had. Our activities remained PG the rest of the weekend- minor league baseball game, bumming on the couch and seeing Monsters University. (highly reco the movie btw).<br /><br />On the train ride home I was frustrated. Yes, my burn was uncomfortable but a part of me thought I could still initiate the intimacy with him and just suck up the discomfort. Another part of me thinks that getting a burn was a sign that I wasn’t fully ready for a bedroom date with him again. <br /><br />As mentioned it’s been months since we were fully intimate due to life happening and I want our physical time together to be when we’re both feeling good in our bodies- but that hasn’t happened in awhile. We’re just getting back into the swing of things and not having hospital talk in every conversation. <br /><br />It’s been a challenging year so far and my fear is that these dips will control the year and we’ll still be in this limbo months from now. <br /><br />I thought I was out of it a few weeks ago and feeling better but then I got laid off and now I have a sunburn. Okay, in comparison the sunburn really doesn’t matter and isn’t as roadblocking as the surgeries we had- but I guess what I’m saying is, I’m ready for some flat road with no dips. Just for a little bit so I can at least have a bedroom date and feel like a girl again. Then, sure- bring on more dips once I can get my full footing without feeling like a lobster.</span></span>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09553446998172625739noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8263865038340671774.post-19871594389993499992013-07-07T22:38:00.000-07:002013-07-07T22:38:12.712-07:00What I Did On My Summer Vacation<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>It’s been 2.5 weeks since I’ve been laid off and I’m still not used to this in limbo lifestyle. </b></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">My main struggle with it is spending so much time alone. I’ve always been an advocate of having self-dates and making quality time for yourself often. But every day is a bit much. <br /><br />Trying to make a busy schedule when you don’t have a job is a full time job in itself. I make lunches and coffee dates with contacts. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I'm emailing everyone I’ve literally ever met in the last 6 years in my industry whether I've just talked to them 2 weeks ago or 2 years. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">That’s over100 people in under 2 weeks. I’ve had 2 interviews so far and following any and all leads much like a detective. <br /><br />So it’s really a matter of when and not if, that I get working again. In the meantime though I’m realizing how much of my identity I put into my work life- and how unbalanced I feel without it. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />But silver lining, here’s a list of the good things about being unemployed:<br /><br />having no bedtime<br />not having to wear makeup or heels everyday<br />having time to get in great shape and tan<br />reconnecting with old friends<br />two words ‘Netflix’ and ‘HBOGo’<br />not setting an alarm clock<br />having unlimited time to do errands<br />having time to shave in the shower and actually feel like a girl<br />being able to pick my next career direction<br />collecting unemployment </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Does anyone have anything else to add that I'm not thinking of?</span></span>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09553446998172625739noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8263865038340671774.post-41529749358781794302013-06-19T20:20:00.002-07:002013-06-19T20:20:31.059-07:00Perhaps I Was Unclear<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Remember last month when I said all I wanted to do was get through May so life could balance itself back out in June? We all heard me say that right? I said this to my blog world, the universe and my family and friends. I was kinda due for a better month. Something got lost in translation.</span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I got laid off yesterday from a job I loved. I had been with the company for 2 years and I was going to ask for a raise this week.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It was the second round of layoffs in a week under the direction of a new CSO and there was no warning signs my department would get hit. We did. Me and three other senior level producers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Just a word of advice- if you ever are asked to go into a room with your boss to talk and there's a woman or man you've never met before sitting with a folder- run the other way. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Everything happened in slow motion- even when I left the office at noon and started pounding JD and cokes at the nearest bar. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The boyfriend and a few friends met me out around 6pm. By that time I was pretty much drunk but decided champagne was a great idea. I cried and drank and laughed and drank. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">My boyfriend took me back to his place in the suburbs and we hooked up for the first time in months. We both needed it and it actually did make me feel better. Today was a dark day for me. He went to work and I stayed in his bed for the entire day. Only getting up to pee.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I'm back at my place now and everyone's advice is floating in my head. Take time off, escape for a few weeks, go to Boston, go to London. I'm scared to switch off, even for a day. I worked so hard to get to this point in my career and I was literally just thinking to myself how much I loved my job and where I was at. I need to dive back in and start new but I'm still attached to where I was just yesterday.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I'm angry. I feel lost and confused but mostly sad. I don't know what to do or where to go. The silver lining is here somewhere. I'm meant to go somewhere and be a part of something else that I can't see right now. I want tomorrow to come but I'm really not sure what I'm supposed to do with it. Any ideas?</span></div>
Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09553446998172625739noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8263865038340671774.post-28449367288886371112013-06-19T20:19:00.000-07:002013-06-19T20:19:29.567-07:00Perhaps I Was Unclear<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Remember last month when I said all I wanted to do was get through May so life could balance itself back out in June? We all heard me say that right? I said this to my blog world, the universe and my family and friends. I was kinda due for a better month. Something got lost in translation.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I got laid off yesterday from a job I loved. I had been with the company for 2 years and I was going to ask for a raise this week.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It was the second round of layoffs in a week under the direction of a new CSO and there was no warning signs my department would get hit. We did. Me and three other senior level producers.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Just a word of advice- if you ever are asked to go into a room with your boss to talk and there's a woman or man you've never met before sitting with a folder- run the other way. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Everything happened in slow motion- even when I left the office at noon and started pounding JD and cokes at the nearest bar. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The boyfriend and a few friends met me out around 6pm. By that time I was pretty much drunk but decided champagne was a great idea. I cried and drank and laughed and drank. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My boyfriend took me back to his place in the suburbs and we hooked up for the first time in months. We both needed it and it actually did make me feel better. Today was a dark day for me. He went to work and I stayed in his bed for the entire day. Only getting up to pee.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I'm back at my place now and everyone's advice is floating in my head. Take time off, escape for a few weeks, go to Boston, go to London. I'm scared to switch off, even for a day. I worked so hard to get to this point in my career and I was literally just thinking to myself how much I loved my job and where I was at. I need to dive back in and start new but I'm still attached to where I was just yesterday.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I'm angry. I feel lost and confused but mostly sad. I don't know what to do or where to go. The silver lining is here somewhere. I'm meant to go somewhere and be a part of something else that I can't see right now. I want tomorrow to come but I'm really not sure what I'm supposed to do with it. Any ideas?</span></span><br />
<br />Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09553446998172625739noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8263865038340671774.post-67847907035778044312013-06-12T20:39:00.000-07:002013-06-12T23:15:23.365-07:00The Lightness<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">May is over. We are knee deep in June now. It's a recovery month for the both of us. We're adjusting slowly and trying to figure out what the hell happened in May.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"I just need a light at the end of the tunnel." I said to him as I was almost begging for any kind of trip out of town for the 2 of us. "I know, " he agreed. "I just need to make sure the light isn't an on coming train."</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">If that doesn't sum up how men and women think, I don't know what does. Think about it.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I knew he was right. He checked off everything still going on 'his mother's 2 serious surgeries, his cat dying (yes the fucking cat died), my recovery, his recovery and continuous tests.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">My work schedule has me slammed until July and that's when he's traveling next. 2013...I'm not a fan of your humor this year. Ever hear of taking a break?</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We couldn't jump into a week long vacation just yet. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I was hoping we'd both blink at the start of this month and somehow all would be healed. He has more interal scars and mine are just starting to heel. My stiches aren't even out yet. But my desire for normalcy is growing even though I'm mentally and physically still lagging behind.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We talk about it though. And even though sometimes we talk in tunnel metaphors, it works for us. He squeezes my hand and I rub his shoulder in response. We're talking. We're here and we're present. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I tell him that I hate that under doctors orders I haven't been able to run in over two weeks. I feel tired and cranky and lazy. He says I shouldn't feel bad, he hasn't been running since the Bush administration. I ask, which one. He replied quickly, the first one. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">He complains about eating salads and how after over 2 weeks of not drinking and sticking to fruits and veggies per his doctor, he's cranky and hungry. And somehow we're in this same rocky, sinking boat that we're both trying to excape from but need to mend first.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Even though the last few months have been challenging I still don't want anything else. Not from him or anyone else. I can't imagaine being where some of my other friends are right now...engaged or married. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Suddenly when you have a ring on your finger or start having kids your relationship ends. You become what you're doing. You are engaged. You are married. You aren't with a boyfriend and you aren't in a relationship. Talking about the work that goes into the relationship stops. Suddenly, there are no problems to speak of. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Everything becomes a to -do list. I ask friends about their fiancees or husbands and they're all somehow doing just amazingly fine. They're too busy helping plan a wedding to be anything else. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This is the part I don't understand. How everything just becomes a title and nothing else is talked about. You're married. You don't mention the difficulties anymore...you don't mention the worries you have about him. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Where does the relationship go when the ring goes on? I really don't know. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">All I know is that right now I'd rather have this: a silly tunnel metaphor we both understand and a really great kiss at the end of date night. </span></span>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09553446998172625739noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8263865038340671774.post-46120598515850191572013-05-12T11:03:00.001-07:002013-05-12T11:04:13.268-07:00Meh.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Can I fast forward to June? I'm over this month. I'm over the last 5 months actually and feeling on pause in my relationship. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">We're talking and communicating but sometimes, like this past weekend, we both feel meh and talk less. And I'd rather be with him and feel meh then not be with him. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">He has his surgery this week and then by the time he fully recoups then I have mine. So in theory we should be both feeling better by June. I like to think this way. That I'll feel like buying sexy lingerie again and we can go on vacation somewhere in June. And our relationship will involve less couch time.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">But then my head gets filled with 'what ifs'. What if his health worries don't go away and what if they get worse? What if he needs another operation in 6 months? What if we've lost our intimacy? Two people can't last if they both feel meh. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I'm in my own head too much. I wonder if I'm being supportive enough and helpful and I know he's wondering the same thing.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">We're pretty much a couple with broken legs right now. That's what the weight of these operations feels like. A tad dramatic, I know. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">But this waiting is paralyzing and we both know it. We've talked about it but not too recently. And now I think we're at this point of -OK we want these times to be over. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">It could be worse but I really think limbo is one of the worst places to be. I keep having these daydreams and sometimes actual dreams of how I want things to be, a mix of how they were and should be without all these messy health stuff. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Then I wake up and we've spent another weekend together and I don't get my dreams in reality. I don't have the energy for them right now. In June, I will though. The weight will be lighter and we'll feel like real people again, not stuck in a waiting room. </span></div>
Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09553446998172625739noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8263865038340671774.post-71732825975259661272013-04-30T21:24:00.000-07:002013-04-30T21:27:18.550-07:00Let's Talk About It<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I don't talk about bedroom dates on this blog often. But I just need to vent to the interweb because I just watched the latest New Girl and Awkward and I feel like I'm being mocked. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I'm not having bedroom dates with my boyfriend right now. Because the universe works in funny, annoying ways, both of us have surgeries in the next month. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">All will be fine, they're just standard surgeries that took us both my surprise. He found out about his earlier this year and we realized that it was affecting more than just his calendar, it was affecting how he felt...in many different ways. We, as a couple, were all good and fine but his mojo was a little low. And now just as he's feeling better, because...again the universe has a very cruel, ill timed sense of humor, my mojo isn't all there. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So after watching the latest episodes of my two favorite shows oozing with bedroom date plots, I'm frustrated and mad. It's an emotional and physical battle I'm having with myself because I miss bedroom dates...like a lot. And yet all I want to do is cuddle and yet, totally tired of cuddling and holding hands and reading cosmo.com for inspiration. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A part of me wants to stop thinking and just get back into the swing of things again...but another part knows I'm just going to be in my head too much thinking about the upcoming weeks. We're both communicating really well about how we're feeling and doctor updates...and all that yadda yadda, but I can't express how annoying it is when life gets in the way of (bedroom) dating. </span></span>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09553446998172625739noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8263865038340671774.post-81234367596836496092013-04-29T21:48:00.001-07:002013-04-29T21:48:27.505-07:00Breaking Up Is Hard To Do<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;">A funny thing happens as you grow into your late 20s- suddenly there's less people to blame for things that you do- the over drinking, the over sleeping, the over eating, the missing doctors appointments, the missing train departures, the missing birthdays...I'm sure you know the list.</span><br />
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Then, if a friendship slowly fades it might not be someone else's fault. You may have to look back and remember what you could've done to be a better friend but simply didn't.<br />
The reason of why may be clear or completely blurry at the time.</div>
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I'm not sure which kind of relationship is hard in your 20s- that with a male or female?<br />
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Recently I'm thinking the friendship between female besties is the most challenging.</div>
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There's been numerous articles and books about female friendships- how they change as you get older, how to maintain them while you have a boyfriend/husband, and especially</div>
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how some end.</div>
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I'm a firm believer that who ever you meet teaches you something about yourself whether you know that lesson at that moment or not.</div>
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I love that saying about how some people are meant to be a cameo in your life, others stay for a season and others are lifers. As I get older I realize that it's easier to accept the differences between different friendships with that in mind. But it's still hard to figure out why some people end up being you friends 'forever' while others are just seasonal.<br />
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And then it gets confusing like what if a lifer turns into more of a cameo? It feels like a relationship going backwards, Benjamin Button style. We'd like to think most friendships start quick and last a long time but what if the long friendship suddenly feels like a one night stand that you just both want to wiggle away from? </div>
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What if the idea of having 1 more meal with your bestie makes your toes curl? </div>
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I'm currently going through this now with a friend of mine and today I emailed her to acknowledge it. She's been one of my closest friends for over 3 years and one of the first non-work, non-college friends I made. She was my city friend.<br />
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A partner in high heels, and boy drama and late nights. A friend at book club and brunch and friday night temple. Someone to call to just say hi. An already assumed 'yes' on the RSVP list.<br />
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In the email, I explained I started distancing myself because I'm not sure how to be her friend anymore.<br />
I wish friendships were easier like they seemed to be just a few years ago, when you were there for your friends no matter what.<br />
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It's painful to wake up one morning and realize you aren't sure what to say to your best friend because you don't think she's listening anymore. She stopped telling you her secrets so you close up your end. It's like one day we started speaking different languages that we didn't have the energy to interpret.<br />
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We had lunch a few months ago and everything I said seemed to be not what she wanted to hear. She didn't like that I didn't like this season of Girls, that I didn't know a fashion designer she was wearing, that I was asked questions about her office politics. She didn't want to talk about her boyfriend or her family. I didn't pry and she didn't open open.<br />
Maybe we outgrew each other at some point in the last year in between book club and brunches.<br />
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Maybe we just don't need each other now but will some other time.<br />
I don't expect her to reply to my email because I think she knows that our friendship has already taken a backseat. Though the parts of where exactly our friendship went are gray, I feel a little better now knowing that the ending is in black and white whether she wants to read it or not.</div>
Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09553446998172625739noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8263865038340671774.post-43062150640495871862013-04-03T20:27:00.002-07:002013-04-03T20:27:55.177-07:00Hang over<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I have a drunk alter ego named Sloane. My old guy roommate named her back in 2009. I think I came up with her to distance myself from any bad behavior that may have occurred- which could range from bad food eaten or bad make out decisions (when I was single). </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">In the last year I’ve accepted that I need to start being accountable for my actions when I drink- which is a couple times a week. In 1 night I drink anywhere between 2 drinks to over 7. If I’m in the latter category that’s when I tend to become more Sloane-like and have more of a 'carpe-diem who needs sleep' kind of attitude. <span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">With the removal of the alter ego recently, I’ve had to come to terms with my behavior when I drink and accept that it’s just me. I’ve also developed a heavy hand of next day guilt when I do drink in excess. I never had this when I was younger. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I found a neat phrase for it <a href="http://boards.straightdope.com/sdmb/showthread.php?t=615865" target="_blank">‘emotional hangover’</a>. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">It explains why I ignore calls from my mother and sometimes friends after a big night out as I put myself back together. It was actually comforting researching this on the internet because for awhile I thought it was just me feeling this way.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I’ve evolved as a drinker- in a good way but mostly a bad way. I was never into drunk calling but now (I blame technology) I’ve become a drunk texter. And with the help of seamlessweb I have a habit of drunk ordering/eating. A habit that I try not to do since it’s a quick and easy way to gain weight. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The weirdest drunk craving I had was sushi and a banana split. There should really be some kind of blocking device on seamless if it’s after 1am and certain items are picked. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">But like I said, I’ve become a drunk texter in the past few months and for my unlucky boyfriend that means drunk conversations with him. There’s been two really bad, confusing text conversations where I don’t tell him I’m drunk, continue the conversation and end up reading something he wrote the wrong way and getting mad at him.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The most recent interaction was last night and even though he dropped in smiley/winkey faces and used the words ‘kidding, I called him an ass and told him he was unsupportive. It’s really not worth repeating the conversation because it honestly made such little sense overall and made me look so crazy, I’d rather forget it. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">My emotional hangover today mostly consisted of dealing with the embarrassment of that and the guilt of calling out sick to work because my stomach was so messed up from all the stupid bad food I ate. It wasn’t what you’d call- a good day.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I texted him this morning and apologized and got a ‘No problem’ from him in return. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I wish it came with a smiley face, but it didn’t. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">As I mentioned, my recent drunk behavior bothers me. And with this latest text snafu, I really need to take a look at where this hidden anger is coming from. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I don’t have any sober reason to be mad at him, but recently when I’ve been drinking I get more sensitive. Sure I can blame the margaritas but I’m a firm believer that drinking is pretty much a truth serum. Also, it could have nothing to do with him. He’s just a victim of being at the top of my text message list.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Either way I need to figure it out because obviously, the quickest way for a guy to start running is turning into crazy girl when there’s a couple (ahem, several) drinks involved. </span></span></span></div>
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Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09553446998172625739noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8263865038340671774.post-73939869408473209222013-03-18T21:25:00.000-07:002013-03-18T21:30:37.888-07:00Like Felicity said ‘Relationships are hard.’<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>I was sitting on my bed and holding a fuzzy pillow and staring at my phone. </b></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I was drinking water, trying to find my voice again. Sentences went around and around in my head. </span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Twenty minutes ago I had a 3 minute conversation with the boyfriend/old ex-boyfriend. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I had called 4 of my girlfriends and patiently waited for them to call me back. I needed a sounding board.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">It was already past 11 on Monday night. I didn’t look forward to trying to sleep tonight.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">The sentences turned around and around in my head. I started to wonder if my own voice was ever going to come back.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Three years ago, I would’ve continued to have a loopy one-sided conversation for days. Three years ago, my heart would’ve continued to race and sweat until I got dizzy. Three years ago, I would’ve taken an Ativan and turned off my phone. </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And then I realized 1 thing. I didn’t need to have a 1 sided conversation anymore. I didn't need to play how/what/why with my girlfriends for hours. This isn’t three years ago. Three years ago has got to stay in three years ago. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">My hand became steady and I exhaled. I called him back. I said the words as they came to me. I started with ‘I’m stuck in my head and need to talk it out.’</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I’m horrible at these conversations. I’m horrible with being honest about my feelings about things that bother me. I’m used to just dealing with bad outcomes rather than working through a problem. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">We’re in the same boat right now. And it’s terrifying and eye opening and heart breaking and heart mending at the same time. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Friday night we had a five hour long date and were the last ones in the restaurant. It was pretty damn great. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">At one point during the night, the topic turned sideways. He said the following ‘Can I tell you about something I’ve been discussing with my therapist?’</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">And he opened up. Three years ago this wouldn’t have happened. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">We would’ve kept dancing politely around each other, desperately trying to not rock the boat. And three years ago, though we were both unhappy with ourselves and each other, we didn’t speak up until there was nothing left to the relationship. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">After he was done talking and I was done listening, he exhaled and ended with 'That was really hard for me to say.' </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I'm not going to go into details on what he shared with me but overall nothing he said was totally new information to me. We had already discussed the top of the iceberg of what was going on and now was the harder part, the murky, hidden parts below the surface. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">We spent the weekend together and had a great time. We were social as a couple and then had lazy time. We started making plans for the week when he drove me to the train. Tonight, while on the phone something he said bothered me. I hurriedly got off the phone.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Then twenty minutes later I called him back. And explained my confusion and asked for more answers and asked him to tell me how he was feeling. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Three years ago, this wouldn't have happened. I’m not saying we’ve had a break through but tonight I realized that some time in the last 8 months with him, I decided to become an adult. And realized that decision isn’t exactly an uphill battle or roller coaster, but more like the tea cup ride at DisneyLand.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">There are times where you’re both spinning the wheel in the same direction and the dizziness puts you both in a high, and then there are times -whether you realize it or not- you're taking turns pulling the wheel in the opposite direction so you both slow down to sort out what's going on. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">We're in the pull part right now. And like I said, it's challenging but that's also why I have multiple fluffy pillows on my bed.</span></span></span></div>
Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09553446998172625739noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8263865038340671774.post-17600034366622218202013-02-10T20:53:00.000-08:002013-02-10T21:00:08.437-08:00The Feb 14th<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>I don't understand Valentine's Day.</b> I appreciate the rom-com movie marathons that take over cable television and the Empire State Building sparkling in red and pink, but I still don't get it.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I liked getting Valentine's Day cards dropped in my desk mailbox in elementary school. And feeling that swell of self-accomplishment at the end of the day if my crush had dropped one off. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In middle school I'd just buy red and pink M&Ms for my best girlfriends and skip the cards.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In high school, while I was away at boarding school, my mother would always send me a card and my brother would send me carnations. And I watched rom-com marathons. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In college through my early twenties I would typically just go out with girlfriends and have an unofficial anti-Valentines Day by getting drunk and not actually acknowledging the holiday. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then...I had <a href="http://I don't understand Valentine's Day. I appreciate the rom-com movie marathons that took over cable television and the Empire State Building sparkling in red and pink, but I still don't get it. I liked getting Valentine's Day cards dropped in my desk mailbox in elementary school. And feeling that swell of self-accomplishment at the end of the day if my crush had dropped one off. In high school while I was away at boarding school my mother would always send me a card and my brother would send me carnations. And I watched rom-com marathons. In college through my early twenties I would typically just go out with girlfriends and have an unofficial anti-Valentines Day by going out and not actually acknowledging the holiday. Then...I had this Valentines Day. After that I turned Valentines Day back into February 14th. Now I'm back with the ex again. And things are good. We both have things we need to work on and certain hurdles to get through. Especially with his 37th birthday coming up next month and him coming to terms with getting older. I have a feeling he'll want to down play/not celebrate at all but I'm sure we'll acknowledge it in some way. Considering I celebrate my birthday for a week at least, he can't really get away with not celebrating his. So about Valentines Day. I've already gotten a few confused reactions from friends but what I ended up doing was buying a handful of tickets to a 9pm comedian show. It was a spontaneous decision I made last week not knowing if the boyfriend is going to be working late or not, I was determined to at least have plans. I told him about the tickets today as he mentioned his schedule is going to be crazy this week. I realized now I should've perhaps explained my thought process and at least acknowledged the holiday. But really, I didn't. I made it simple to not stir up old memories. I cooly explained if he wasn't working late I have an extra ticket for him. This was my way of taking charge and saying we don't need any extra pressure right now- especially to make fancy weekday dinner reservations somewhere when both of our work schedules are unpredictable. If we want to do a nice dinner, let's plan it during a day that makes sense for both of us. I didn't actually get into the whole take charge part and didn't realize I was avoiding the holiday till I was on my way back to my apartment. I don't need a shrink a dink to tell me why I'm avoiding the holiday...I don't want to be disappointed like I was a couple years ago. Plain and simple. So I'm making plans that make sense. And yes, of course, I will take advantage of this silly heart holiday and probably get some new lingerie that I needed anyway. I realize I end up wearing his boxers and tshirts to bed more and more and it wouldn't kill me to buy some lace and silk. Though let's face it, I've read enough Cosmo to know that men don't really care what a girl wears to bed as long as it comes off easily." target="_blank">this Valentines Day</a>.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After that I turned Valentines Day back into February 14th. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now as you know I'm back with the ex again. And things are good. We both have things we need to work on and certain hurdles to get through. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Especially with his 37th birthday coming up next month and him coming to terms with getting older. I have a feeling he'll want to down play/not celebrate at all but I'm sure we'll acknowledge it in some way. Considering I celebrate my birthday for a week at least, he can't really get away with not celebrating his. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So about Valentines Day. I've already gotten a few confused reactions from friends when I told them my plans...what I ended up doing was buying a handful of tickets to a 9pm comedy show. It was a spontaneous decision I made last week not knowing if the boyfriend is going to be working late or not, I was determined to at least have plans. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I told him about the tickets today as he mentioned his schedule is going to be crazy this week. I realized now I should've perhaps explained my thought process and at least acknowledged the holiday. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But really, I didn't. I made it simple to not stir up old memories for me. I cooly explained if he wasn't working late I have an extra ticket for him. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This was my way of taking charge and saying we don't need any extra pressure right now- especially to make fancy weekday dinner reservations somewhere when both of our work schedules are unpredictable. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If we want to do a nice dinner, let's plan it during a day that makes sense for both of us. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I didn't actually get into the whole take charge part and didn't realize I was avoiding the holiday till I was on my way back to my apartment. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't need a shrink-a-dink to tell me why I'm avoiding the holiday...I don't want to be disappointed like I was a couple <a href="http://I don't understand Valentine's Day. I appreciate the rom-com movie marathons that took over cable television and the Empire State Building sparkling in red and pink, but I still don't get it. I liked getting Valentine's Day cards dropped in my desk mailbox in elementary school. And feeling that swell of self-accomplishment at the end of the day if my crush had dropped one off. In high school while I was away at boarding school my mother would always send me a card and my brother would send me carnations. And I watched rom-com marathons. In college through my early twenties I would typically just go out with girlfriends and have an unofficial anti-Valentines Day by going out and not actually acknowledging the holiday. Then...I had this Valentines Day. After that I turned Valentines Day back into February 14th. Now I'm back with the ex again. And things are good. We both have things we need to work on and certain hurdles to get through. Especially with his 37th birthday coming up next month and him coming to terms with getting older. I have a feeling he'll want to down play/not celebrate at all but I'm sure we'll acknowledge it in some way. Considering I celebrate my birthday for a week at least, he can't really get away with not celebrating his. So about Valentines Day. I've already gotten a few confused reactions from friends but what I ended up doing was buying a handful of tickets to a 9pm comedian show. It was a spontaneous decision I made last week not knowing if the boyfriend is going to be working late or not, I was determined to at least have plans. I told him about the tickets today as he mentioned his schedule is going to be crazy this week. I realized now I should've perhaps explained my thought process and at least acknowledged the holiday. But really, I didn't. I made it simple to not stir up old memories. I cooly explained if he wasn't working late I have an extra ticket for him. This was my way of taking charge and saying we don't need any extra pressure right now- especially to make fancy weekday dinner reservations somewhere when both of our work schedules are unpredictable. If we want to do a nice dinner, let's plan it during a day that makes sense for both of us. I didn't actually get into the whole take charge part and didn't realize I was avoiding the holiday till I was on my way back to my apartment. I don't need a shrink a dink to tell me why I'm avoiding the holiday...I don't want to be disappointed like I was a couple years ago. Plain and simple. So I'm making plans that make sense. And yes, of course, I will take advantage of this silly heart holiday and probably get some new lingerie that I needed anyway. I realize I end up wearing his boxers and tshirts to bed more and more and it wouldn't kill me to buy some lace and silk. Though let's face it, I've read enough Cosmo to know that men don't really care what a girl wears to bed as long as it comes off easily." target="_blank">years ago</a>. Plain and simple. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I'm making plans that make sense. And yes, of course, I will take advantage of this silly heart holiday and probably get some new lingerie that I needed anyway. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I realize I end up wearing his boxers and tshirts to bed more and more and it wouldn't kill me to buy some lace and silk. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Though let's face it, I've read enough Cosmo to know that men don't really care what a girl wears to bed as long as it comes off easily. </span></span></div>
Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09553446998172625739noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8263865038340671774.post-26206554323948786222013-01-14T15:54:00.000-08:002013-01-14T20:36:18.078-08:0019 Scarves<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>I own 19 scarves.</b> </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I probably wear the same 2 or 3 a season and yet I own 19. It’s really amazingly unnecessary. I’m going through a bit of a purge right now. I call it the Bed Bug Purge. (I won’t get into it but there’s a reason why I haven’t posted yet this year and why I know I own 19 scarves.)<br />
<br />
SO recently, I’ve been taking a look at everything...from the food I eat, the friends I keep and the things that fill my drawers. I’ve moved 5 times in 6 years. I don’t know why it’s taken me this long, but I’m finally looking at what I’ve been carrying all these years. <br />
<br />
When I was 17 I bought my first sexy bra from Victoria’s Secrets. My best friend helped pick it out. It was the first bra that didn’t come from my mother. Even though the red lace was overpriced and padded, I thought it was the greatest thing I had ever purchased. I don’t know how many lucky gentlemen got to see that bra, but considering I didn’t actually cash in my V-Card till I was 19, probably not that many. But it made me feel great when I wore it.<br />
<br />
My body has changed a lot since I was 17 and the bra has been 2 cup sizes too small for about 7 years and yet, I’ve been carrying it with me. It’s sat in my drawer like an unmatched lost earring. (also, addicting space wasters)<br />
<br />
I took one last look at this weekend and then threw it out. I really don’t know why I hung on to it for so long. I mean, I’m a sentimental gal but I’m not that thoughtful. Maybe a part of me thought one day my body would shrink back down to 17 years old? Maybe I thought it was a symbol of my young adult years? But I’m not sure. Most of those years I’d rather gloss over anyway. <br />
<br />
I’ve been happy with who I am for awhile now. When I turned 28 in December my esteem swelled and I realized a very simple fact that nobody could’ve convinced me of when I was 17, I’m only going to get better with age. So why do I hang on to these things still? These things aren’t timeless valuables...<br />
<br />
Socks with holes in them, or socks that look like a muppet’s ass? Or shirts that just don’t fit right? I guess it’s for the same reason why we hang on to friends even when they don’t return our calls or texts for months? Or why we stay in jobs that make us miserable? Or why we leave the dirty dishes in the sink overnight? Because it’s easy. Leaving things as is, is the easiest thing in the world to do because it’s not doing anything. <br />
<br />
How is it that we are the busiest, most connected people...ever, but when it comes time to confront anything – big or small- it’s the hardest thing in the world? I guess it’s my 1 real resolution this year. Confrontation. <br />
<br />
Emailing the friend whose been ignoring me for months and asking for an explanation. Telling him I’m hurt. Signing up for a cooking class. Okay I haven’t done that one yet, but it’s on the list. And the biggest thing, dumping extra baggage. Getting rid of over a dozen scarves that haven’t hung on my neck in years. It’s like that lacey bra...just because it’s pretty doesn’t mean it needs to take up space. I mean if I thought it was that important, I’d fucking frame it. Besides, I’m a woman who will learn to cook this year...I don’t need to hang on to a lacey bra that doesn’t fit just because it cost more than $30 eleven years ago.</span></span>
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Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09553446998172625739noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8263865038340671774.post-72837413544421550072012-12-09T19:21:00.002-08:002012-12-09T19:21:19.858-08:00Leaving The Worry<b><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It's a funny feeling to not have the weight of a big worry anymore after it pushes you down for months. </span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">By habit, I still intermittently go back to <a href="http://damnthose3littlewords.blogspot.com/2012/10/blockage.html" target="_blank">the brain fuck of wondering</a> where me and him are and where we stand and how he feels and not knowing. I've known for over a week now that we're on the same page. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">We're together and don't want to be with other people. We know this works but don't know what the future holds. He now knows my indecision of marriage and kids and I know now he's insecure and scared of getting older. We recognize that we each have things to work through independently but aren't letting it get in the way of where we are now. Life is too short and complicated to let the future muddle the now.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I went through getting stuck in a <a href="http://damnthose3littlewords.blogspot.com/2011/12/un-pause.html" target="_blank">'mental emergency landing position' </a>this time last year so I know the procedure of how to get out of it by now. It takes time to get out of a negative thought pattern. It's like anything else, practice.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But I have all the answers I need right now and my present is like a present. I get to enjoy it and not get stuck in the 'what if' cycle. I'm not saying it's perfect but there's something peaceful about not having the 'what if's' clog my brain. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I spent the last 24 hours with him at his place. Talking, eating, laughing, sleeping/not sleeping ;)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And thoughts of worry got in a few times but then I kindly told them to leave. They were in the past. Sure, different ones will show up in the future but for now they can go stand out in the cold. I have someone now, who holds my hand and care if I'm cold or warm. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I still take it day to day because nothing is guaranteed. If the last few years have taught me anything it's to not jump into anything and if something seems too good too be true, it typically means the good isn't true. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So in my mind, if something actually is good and you have confirmation it's true, that doesn't mean you invite him home for the holidays, it means you just kiss a little longer.</span>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09553446998172625739noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8263865038340671774.post-40922417273262101632012-11-13T20:16:00.000-08:002012-11-13T20:16:32.359-08:00Just call me Mandy Moore<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>If I could be any female celebrity I'd be Mandy Moore.</b> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I'm not ashamed to say I like her tweets, her music and most of her movie choices. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Judge me if you will but I think every one has a celebrity alter ego and she's mine.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">But right now I'm kind of itching to not be in her fictional skin. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">If you've seen <i>Because I Said So</i> this will make SO much more sense but regardless, enjoy.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Mom, text: Hi. Don't ask questions. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">What was the name of the broker you dated a few years ago? Was it Jason?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Me: What? No, it was Kevin. Why?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">silence.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Me: Mom?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Next came a call from my mom. I answered hesitantly.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Me: What are you doing?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Mom: I found a 27 year old broker named Jason on JDate and I think he'd be perfect for you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Me: silence.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Me: (stuttering for five minutes) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Why are you looking at 27 year olds on JDate?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Mom: Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It's fine.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Go to bed, it's late.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Me: Mom...please stop. Please. Mom? (more stuttering)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Mom: I have to go now. Goodbye. (hangs up)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Me, text to mom: Can you please stop being Diane Keaton now?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Mom: You may be pleasantly surprised. You can thank me later. HAGN.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">(end scene)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">And yes, my mother created her own text slang for Have a good night. </span>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09553446998172625739noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8263865038340671774.post-73625062180676369452012-11-09T22:04:00.000-08:002012-11-13T20:32:27.099-08:00The After (the vodka edition)<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>I wish there was a book that explains that after part of love. </b> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And maybe I’ll have to write about it one day, if I make it far enough into it.<br />From my experience in between tweets and texts...I really don’t think anyone says ‘And do you love me’ anymore...and then break into song about being married for twenty-five years with Jewish daughters. (Fiddler on the Roof for those who missed it.)<br />Most of us forget that men and woman think completely different of each other. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Not even an easy, multi-equation polar opposite...but according to Venus and Mars...different. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And when drinking is involved, the difference gets bigger.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But both of us learn grammar the same.<br />So when midnight chimes on a Friday, </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">while standing on a crowded platform </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">and a vodka filled girl (ahem, me) says these words: </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">“So...I’ve been thinking about the us...and I didn’t want to be the one to talk about the we. But I want to know your thoughts...it’s been 4 months and we’ve been hanging out as a we...but as an us. I just think we should. I didn’t want to be the one to bring it up. I hate talking about the we...” <br /><br />...I wish I was paraphrasing but I think that’s almost exactly how I brought up the inevitable conversation.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />He looked down at me as the train was coming and held me closer. There was a smile in his voice when he spoke next.<br />“I really don’t think this is the time or place for this.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />I knew he was right but I hated that I was wrong since I had been (over) thinking about it so much. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I pouted and probably swayed a little to make sure I was still standing.<br />He asked me what I expected him to say right then and there.<br />“Something simple, something neat and simple and quick. I hate talking about this.” <br />I explained in between subway stops as I bumped against him.<br />I made a drunken sad face, immediately regretting whatever I said, “Did I even make a full sentence?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />He kissed me and kept hold of me.<br />“Don’t freak out. This just isn’t the place.” <br />I moved my facial expression a hundred times.<br />“Don’t freak out. I’ll talk to you soon.”<br />He kissed me again and again. I didn’t want to let go. <br />“Your mom is in town tomorrow. We’ll talk. I’m kissing you to reassure you that it’ll be OK.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I kissed him back and let go.<span style="font-size: large;">..</span></span></span>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09553446998172625739noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8263865038340671774.post-628701200864881852012-11-04T06:59:00.001-08:002012-11-04T07:00:03.407-08:00A Pocket of Time<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>It was not a normal Monday. </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">He had just cooked us dinner and as we sat down to eat at his new dining room table,</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">we lost electricity.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Without missing a beat he was up lighting candles and turning on flashlights.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The reality of the devastation that the storm would bring wouldn’t fully hit me until the end of the week when I was back in my own apartment watching the news.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Until then, we were in a bubble. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">By Wednesday work would be fully cancelled for the week and not on a day to day basis.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Electricity and trains would slowly start being restored.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Until then though I was very much aware that this scenario was a fantasy come true for me.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It was my beginning of a rom com.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">That great bonding montage you never think will happen in real life..</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">the elevator you get stuck in with the cute stranger,</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">the three day road trip you end up doing last minute with your crush.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Time that is given to you so you can just be you with someone you care about,</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">and nothing else getting in the way.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We had no lights, phones, cable or internet.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We had beer and wine and books and board games.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We told each other stories.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We asked each other questions.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We flirted and played.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We had the kind of good sex you really only have while on vacation in a hotel room far away from real life.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And I knew it wasn’t real.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The stress of work and family drama would come back.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We’d be two people again trying to fit in each other's lives and figure out where we stand.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But in those 5 days, even though I wore no makeup and his pajamas everyday,</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I liked how we fit together. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Though I missed hot showers and my contacts</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">and my books and my own bed and lip gloss,</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I liked how we fit together.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It could’ve been the circumstances of Sandy finally putting us in the same space</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">or it could’ve been us becoming the good part of us again.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Later I’d feel lucky. Absolutely lucky and guilty. From this storm I got a staycation with candles and good sex, while others had their life destroyed. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">If you are able to, <a href="https://www.redcross.org/donate/index.jsp?donateStep=2&itemId=prod10002" target="_blank">please donate whatever you can.</a></span></span>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09553446998172625739noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8263865038340671774.post-11312223461221336812012-10-24T19:42:00.000-07:002012-10-24T19:42:55.954-07:00Blockage<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Sometimes I really don't like still being single as I creep into my late 20s.</b> I'm becoming smarter and listening to my women's intuition more (WI). I'm turning out to be right about things more often than not...especially men. Some mysteries are becoming clearer while others just fuzzier.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Four/five years ago I was deeply hung up and obsessed with the mystery of 'the disappearing guy after the amazing first date'. There was probably a couple Friends and Sex In the City episodes about it.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I had a good number of them in my early 20s and rather than dealing with it straight on I would typically just turn dates into casual hookups. Yeah..that was me 20-24 until I fell for my Ex.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">For awhile- because of him I didn't have to worry about first dates and I was in love. Then after the breakup I started seeing the Brit but made it clear I didn't want to actually see him. I was done with being emotionally involved. I just wanted physical comfort and no drama. A hookup with an accent. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It worked for awhile until I was ready to date again. Still, nothing serious stuck. I didn't mind though. After a few years of dodging the hard emotional stuff I became pretty good at ducking.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">And now as I wade in and out of still casual hookups while trying to figure out <a href="http://damnthose3littlewords.blogspot.com/2012/07/take-2.html" target="_blank">what I want from my Ex and where we stand.</a>..the emotional block is still there whether I like it or not. And it could potentially ruin next steps with my Ex...if there are even next steps. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">My WI is telling me there aren't and I should keep wading.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It's an every day mental battle that I resolve right before I go to bed in a different way. If he gives me attention and plans for the future I realize I want to be with just him and want to be his girlfriend. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I want the nonsense and gray zone to stop.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">If I don't get the attention I want then I decide to text the Brit to distract myself or say yes to a new setup. I remind myself to be present and not rush into anything. Be happy with having him in my life and take the small baby steps.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I don't know what I want. And though <a href="http://damnthose3littlewords.blogspot.com/2012/07/the-2nd-bottle.html" target="_blank">I chose to let him back</a> in my life romantically and very unsure and uneasy of what's going to happen...I need to accept being OK with not knowing what I want or I'm just going to continue to torture myself. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The mystery of <a href="http://damnthose3littlewords.blogspot.com/2012/10/connect-two.html" target="_blank">why he sent this text has been solved</a>. I really only spent 2 minutes thinking about it and now it's done. I mean, wouldn't you say this to me if I had cancelled on you twice and was 20 mins late for the first date...</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">"Sorry I've been such a flake. I think you're sweet but I'm not interested in taking things further. Hope you're OK with that."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Am I OK with that? I don't have a choice. I blocked him before I even met him. </span></span>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09553446998172625739noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8263865038340671774.post-68693710427981136022012-10-17T14:31:00.000-07:002012-10-17T14:54:23.997-07:00Home Space<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I didn’t fully realize I was running away until I had started packing. </b></span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I had booked my train ticket at work that afternoon just minutes after I got approval to take Friday and Monday off. Work was slow. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I was bored and had days to use. <br /> </span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: large;">On my way back to my apartment that night, as I walked down the subway stairs I tripped and almost fell. While I was still gripping onto the railing a witness to my trip walked past me and laughed at me. I yelled at him ‘It’s not funny’. My frustration grew and he turned to me and said ‘What?’ as if I was being rude to interrupt his mocking of me. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I continued down the stairs and mumbled ‘Never mind.’ <br />
<br />
I was too tired to fight back. I let the City win this round. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: large;">In revenge, I had pizza for dinner and tried to relax. As I was packing I realized how tired I was and how much I needed a break.<br />
<br />
I was tired of being bored at work and feeling like I was being underused and not challenged and having 20 mentally freak outs a day about being pigeon hold and stuck.<br />
<br />
I was tired of asking myself what I wanted from my Ex- if anything...if less, if more. <br />
If I’d get the courage to ask him what he wanted. <br />
<br />
I was tired of wondering <a href="http://damnthose3littlewords.blogspot.com/2012/10/connect-two.html" target="_blank">why this guy didn’t text </a>me back after he told me he wanted to see me again. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I concluded later that he got kidnapped my pirates and then sold to gypsies.<br />
<br />
I was tired of pondering if I should still be in NYC or anywhere else but here...<br />
<br />
So I left. <br />
<br />
I cancelled all my plans for the weekend. Including time with the Ex, a bar crawl and volunteering.<br />
<br />
While waiting for my mom to pick me up at the bus stop, a (too) young gas station attendant asked if I wanted to wait inside since it was cold out. <br />
I explained I had just been on a train/bus for hours and needed some air, my mom was picking me up soon. <br />
He nodded at me politely and said casually, ‘Yeah, everyone gets homesick.’ <br />
<br />
Just a few months from my 28th birthday and I realized I was homesick. <br />
<br />
I missed that security- my home- that has changed a thousand times in the last 5 years but was always still left standing, no matter where my actual house was. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">It's like that great quote from Garden State:</span><br />
<br />
<b><a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0103785/"></a><span style="font-size: small;"><i>"</i></span></b><span style="font-size: small;"><i>You know that point in your life when you realize the house you grew up
in isn't really your home anymore? All of a sudden even though you have
some place where you put your shit, that idea of home is gone...</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i>You feel like you can never get it back. It's like you feel
homesick for a place that doesn't even exist... I
miss the idea of it. Maybe that's all family really is. A
group of people that miss the same imaginary place."</i></span>
<br />
<br /><span style="font-size: large;">
I missed my family smiling at me and seeing me just as I was in the present moment and not forcing me to define any of the above.<br />
<br />
At one point over the weekend while my mom smiled at me as I watched TV on the couch, she exclaimed:<br />
<br />
“Sometimes I think you should just move back home. <br />
But then I realized you probably would never get married if you did...so I guess it’s OK.” <br />
<br />
I laughed and admitted that sometimes I think about it too but then explained I’d have to actually drive a car though <br />
and no one on the road wants to witness that. So I’ll stick with public transportation.<br />
<br />
My Monday night I was exhausted, but this time physically. I had spent 4 days on either a bus or train riding around the state making sure I saw everyone.<br />
<br />
I knew I had a lot waiting for me but as I got off the train and walked into the misty streets of midtown, I felt for at least a few minutes that I could take care of everything. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Maybe just one step at a time.<br />
<br />
Besides, this was all mine. I left home to have this independence and separate life. It’s not always going to be the way I want it.<br />
But that’s why I’m here and not in the safeness of home: to take on my own messiness and enjoy the ride no matter how up and down it is. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Even if things get worse, I know I can always step off, go hide for a few days and eat my mom's mashed potatoes with a giant wooden spoon.</span>
</div>
Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09553446998172625739noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8263865038340671774.post-83318340873928705812012-10-10T21:08:00.000-07:002012-10-10T21:13:23.384-07:00Connect Two<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Alright so we have text message and email and the entire Internet to connect any two people in the world so why is it so hard to feel connected to someone whose been in your life for 4 years?</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b> </b><br />Let’s face it that the majority of 2010 and 2011 I was waiting for my Ex to come back. <br /><br />Then smack in the middle of 2012 after I assumed his train had left the station, he anchored his row boat next to me again. <br /><br />Mixed transportation metaphor but you get it. He came back and forced himself in to my life.<br /><br /><a href="http://damnthose3littlewords.blogspot.com/2012/07/take-2.html" target="_blank">And for one brief moment</a> I felt like I had just scored The Point of the game.<br />We’ve been <a href="http://damnthose3littlewords.blogspot.com/2012/08/de-exed.html" target="_blank">dribbling </a>in each other’s courts since early<a href="http://damnthose3littlewords.blogspot.com/2012/07/the-2nd-bottle.html" target="_blank"> July.</a> <br /><br />I apparently love all metaphors when I’m tired. Bare with me.<br /><br />When I’m with him everything is good and he’s affectionate and attentive. <br />Two very important things. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The basis of any good relationship.<br />The pattern we’ve fallen into is being together Saturday nights to Sunday- we have a proper date and then either he stays over or I go out to his place. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It turned into our date night.<br /><br />But our timing has been off the last few weeks and I haven’t seen him. <br />He’s been overwhelmed with work or described his schedule as messy.<br /><br />He’s offered me Sundays recently. I volunteer on Sunday afternoons which he seemed to forget about. And I don’t really want to be penciled in between 7-9pm on a Sunday.<br /><br />No one is in a datey mood on Sunday nights, no matter who the date is with.<br />OK- well if Ryan Gosling wanted a Sunday night of course I would rally and oblige.<br /><br />Again, this weekend he offered me Sunday since he had a friend’s birthday party on Saturday night. Didn’t extend the invite to me.<br />I told him (text of course) Sundays won’t work for me so we’ll hopefully figure something else out.<br />He replied with a joke about cursing his friend’s parents so he didn’t have to go to this birthday. I didn’t reply.<br /><br />Is he doing the bare minimum here or is it just me? <br />His actions are saying a lot. I know he’s been working till 9/10pm each night but come on- if he wanted a girlfriend at this point wouldn’t I feel more girlfriendy and solid in his life?<br /> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">He's 36 going on 37, I feel like if he wants a romantic weekly buddy and not a girlfriend he should use Match.com.<br />There’s been no phone calls. Maybe one or two in 3.5 months.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />I get texts checking in during the week and of course the daily email with an entertaining cat link. Sometimes dog.<br />I wonder what relationships were like before fucking cats made their way to youtube.<br />I bet people got laid more.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">What do I want, you may ask? I want his next big move. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It's like he's holding my hand but not very well. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Don't pick up the ball again if you aren't ready to play.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">He could be just as jaded and guarded as me, but come on man- grow a pair and get in the game.<br /><br />P.S... I finally went out on <a href="http://damnthose3littlewords.blogspot.com/2012/09/potential-pull.html" target="_blank">that date last night</a>. Applause.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">And honestly it was great to meet someone new. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I rate the entire date a strong B+ and would go out with him again.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">He was present and honest and funny. And tall.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">He also cleaned his glasses twice during dinner which I thought was totally adorable. <a href="http://www.google.com/imgres?hl=en&client=firefox-a&hs=Kfq&sa=X&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&biw=1181&bih=623&tbm=isch&prmd=imvns&tbnid=o0PJJbiejTFeyM:&imgrefurl=http://gilesface.tumblr.com/post/8326206898/reblog-for-love-of-giles-stuttering-and-glasses&docid=oEvaxOFHVSPP6M&imgurl=http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lp8dd2Hlwb1qgr1nn.gif&w=300&h=286&ei=4UV2UODvA8HF0QH-k4GYCw&zoom=1&iact=rc&dur=306&sig=107957231615799502417&page=2&tbnh=132&tbnw=144&start=18&ndsp=25&ved=1t:429,r:7,s:18,i:159&tx=21&ty=66" target="_blank">(ahem, Giles)</a><br />I started thinking what a MASSIVE plot twist it would be if now that I suddenly have my Ex back on the same dock as me, I end up wanting to be with someone else. <br /><br /></span></span>Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09553446998172625739noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8263865038340671774.post-46197718395584177582012-09-19T10:09:00.000-07:002012-09-19T10:15:09.687-07:00Adult Moves<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>I’ve decided to move out of the City </b> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">and it’s the biggest
adult decision I’ve ever made, well not including deciding to wear lipstick to work.
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I’ll be saving over $400 a month and finally, for the first
time in 5 years, stop living paycheck to paycheck.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Also I'll have twice the living space. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I’ll be able to do that crazy thing called ‘save money’.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I’ll have a commute for the first time since college but I’m
actually OK with it. I always liked riding the train and analyzing people. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: large;">So
now I get to do it for 30 minutes at a time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Plus I'll be able to read on the train! (Oooh) </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I actually haven’t <a href="http://damnthose3littlewords.blogspot.com/2012/09/potential-pull.html" target="_blank">gone out with that guy yet</a>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I’ve
cancelled on him twice. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The first time- I told him I had to go look at apartments (lie)
but then I ended up having to work late. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The second time- I told him I had to work late (lie) but
then I went home and fought with Time Warner Cable via Chat for three hours. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Apparently I’m OK with doing anything else besides going out
on this date. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Maybe I’m just waiting till things calm down after I move to
go out with this guy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Or maybe I’m waiting for things to become clearer with the
Ex. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Or maybe I just don’t want to go out with him.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Right now I see the Ex once a week- we have a proper date
and then an adult sleepover. We email/text every day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I know I want more, I’m just not sure how to get it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That being said I’m not sure how much more I even want. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Why isn't Cosmo or Marie Claire coming out with an article about this? Come on <a href="http://thoughtcatalog.com/" target="_blank">ThoughtCatalog.com </a>this is basic crisis material here. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I know he’s on my team and cares about me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have a great view of the City from my office and soon I'll have a quiet, new neighborhood to explore. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">For now, while I move forward and Fall begins, maybe that's all I need and I can wait till there's a layer of leaves on the ground to sort out the other things that may need moving (ahem! job, relationship status, grad school apps). </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Okay, fine- maybe I'll need a pack of cigarettes and a bottle or two of wine to get me through this move but regardless, I'll get there. </span></div>
Dhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09553446998172625739noreply@blogger.com5