yahya says...

I always wonder why birds choose to stay in the same place, when they can fly anywhere on the Earth.  Then I ask myself the same question.

 

petless boys

my secret is that i judge people for not having pets -- more specifically, i judge potential boyfriend people for not having pets.  i don't care if he's a dog person or a cat person. or both.  i'm both and would have one of each if i could.  i'm bi-petual, if you will.  

the pet question is one of my first when i go on a date.  if he has no pet, i withhold judgment for long enough a little to inquire about why.  some people want a pet but are too busy.  some people would love to adopt but aren't able to keep dogs or cats in their apartments. some people are allergic.  i understand this, and i can't judge the petless pet lovers.  but when i meet a guy who has no interest in pets and never had a beloved childhood pet, i write him off as a freak, or at least as not great boyfriend material.


harsh? maybe a little.  but, as i explained to a friend last week when the topic of dating guys with dogs came up, i think that a guy's potential to love and care for a pet says a lot about his potential to love and care for a partner.  

i should add here that the friend with whom i had this conversation disagreed with me.  he said that he prefers to date guys who don't have pets -- especially dogs -- because pets are annoying and burdensome.  i'll admit that i've been annoyed in the past when my dates have had to go home early or were unable to "make a night of it" because their dogs needed to be walked or fed.  still, i always liked that they had dogs.  i like when guys get gushy and excited about their pets. and i love a guy who knows how to give a good belly rub.

my primary reason for screening men based upon pet ownership is that i view pets as outlets for affection, in that people who have a lot of love inside of them but don't have partners still need an outlet for all their affection.  enter my catticus, who is so effing sick of being hugged all the time, but who still sits with me while i blog.  

the guy without a pet, though -- does he not have love to share?  does he not want a warm friend cuddling beside him or sleeping on his feet on cold winter nights?  is he heartless, and potentially a serial killer? these are the things i think about on first dates with petless boys.  

am i crazy for thinking this way?  my disagreeing friend said that i am insane.  what do you think?

snow gay

it feels like sunday at the office.  i'm the only person on this floor.  mine is the only office light that's lit.  all of the suburbanites are home shoveling driveways and playing with their snow-day-elated children while i, the only lawyer who lives in the city, has shown up to do some work.  (also, i'm wearing JEANS and a button-down... wait for it... UN-TUCKED. i am a wild man.)  and i pray that the office stays this way all day.

this is just one of the reasons that i absolutely love winter.  and why i'll never be one of those facebookers who posts complaints about cold/snow/winter.  so many reasons to love this time of year: the sweaters, the scarves, the gloves, and all the other fun accessories that this time of year allows.  these things take up a substantial portion of my closet space, so during the appropriate season, i'm happy to wear the often. 

another reason: Attipuss staring out the window watching snow fall. for hours.  then taking a break to eat. then returning to the window.

and who can forget the coziness of home?  the roommates all home at the same time, stupid CW shows on, a puzzle going on the coffee table -- if that sounds a little too Partridge Family for you, you should know there's usually a bottle of wine and some vodka flowing.  during the blizzard of 2010, Shaunice and i spent days on end watching tv, cooking, and drinking.  it was heaven.

before i forget, my number one reason for loving this time of year must be the brightness when it snows.  if you don't live in an urban area, you might not be familiar.  last night as i walked home from a lovely dinner with some of the girls from my office, the city glowed so brightly.  at 8 PM it was almost as bright as daylight.  it was uplifting and calming after another long day at the office. 

makes me want another blizzard real bad.  

 

i hear that

ditto to my friends.

 

way says...

Sometimes you have to kind of die inside in order to rise from your own ashes and believe in yourself and love yourself... to become a new person.

recently i went on a date with a guy who had a phoenix tattoo with some text about rising from the ashes.  i didn't ask him from what ashes he has risen, or through what hardship he has gone.  too deep for first date talk.  but i couldn't help but think about what it means to rise again, figuratively.  to re-create yourself.  to completely change course and keep moving, but in a direction you never thought you'd go.  


today one of my best friends turns 30.  i'm not far behind.  not that it's old or anything... 30 is young.  30 is the new 20.  i say that not to make myself feel better about aging, but because our generation is doing in our thirties the things that our parents' generation did in their 20's.  at any rate, it seems like a good time to re-create, to change course. 

hopefully i won't wait until my thirtieth year to do so. 

post(ing) secret(s)

if i were to work in a card shop, i'd get nothing done.  i'd be fired for standing around reading cards all day.  even now it's the quickest way for me to kill an hour alone, reading and thinking about things like which friend would like the card most and, often, when i'll be in a relationship with someone to whom i want to give romantic cards.  

of course i sometimes buy them to put away for when the time comes.
 

outta my, outta my head

in case you haven't noticed all my swooning and cooing over Ingrid Michaelson in the past, let me tell you: 

i love her.  


i'm currently holding hostage an Ingrid cd that belongs to my girl Kimmy, who has to come visit me if she ever wants to see her favorite cd again, and i'm listening to this on repeat:

the simple life

no, not that old reality show; rather, something i've been thinking about and -- in an idealistic and potentially unattainable sort of way -- desiring.


over the weekend, some friends and i went shopping across the river in dirty Jersey.  it's worth the drive to visit a pretty nice mall and, more importantly, Crate & Barrel.  but then we went to The Container Store.  in case you've never been, i'll describe it for you: it is a store of containers.  the entire store is filled with containers and shelves and objects that you can purchase and use to organize your STUFF.  every single THING for sale in the store can help you organize your THINGS.  which got me to thinking...


"We have so much stuff that we now have to buy stuff to keep our stuff organized.  Doesn't this seem crazy to you?" i asked my friend B.


"But I love it.  This cereal-to-go bowl holds your cereal and your milk separately, and it even holds a spoon!" he responded.


he didn't seem as bothered as i was by the epiphany that we all have so much STUFF that we're losing control of it.  when i say "we," i admit -- especially me.  despite my recent efforts to de-clutter my life, i still have so much stuff.  after my visit to The Container Store (at which i didn't buy any things, because -- while tempted by several cool container-y items -- i realize that i don't need more things), i got ready for an impromptu pub crawl with some friends.  as my friends waited in my living room, i took forever to get dressed.  i changed three times.  i couldn't decide which sweater to wear, in part because i have 5 tan sweaters of various materials and thickness which, at the end of the day, all look the same on me.  

why do i have 5 tan sweaters?  why do i have 6 or 7 pairs of pajama pants (after recently giving away 3 or 4 pairs, in fact)?  why do i have 15 pairs of jeans, considering i wear only 2 of them (dark and darker)?  and i know that i'm not alone. i have many friends, and a mother, who will buy the same shirt, or the same pea coat (you know who you are) in 4 different colors.  i'll add that i'm not judging; i'm just as guilty as the rest of you when it comes to hoarding things and stuff.

but why do we all have so many things?  is this why we work so hard? to amass a collection of slightly varied options?  maybe if we could be satisfied with only one very nice sweater, North Americans would work less and vacation more, like Europeans.  maybe we could save money, though the economy might collapse in the absence of our constant retail binges. 


and so, when a paralegal complimented me on my cardigan this morning and then commented that i have "so many cute cardigans," i returned to thinking about leading a more simple life.  little does she know, i have several cardigans that she's never even seen, because i simply don't wear them.  so many things. 

i'm not sure what to do about all this, or how to go about doing what i decide to do about it, but i think i'd like to return to the simple life.  so now you know.

post(ing) secret(s)

post(ing) secret(s)

pre-dating

pre-dating is a period of time that online daters know well, a definite period of time between mutually agreeable communication and the first real-life meeting.  once the first meeting occurs, of course the pre-dating period ends.


the pre-dating period could be long, or it could be almost nonexistent.  in my experience, older guys and professionals tend to require longer pre-dating periods, mostly because they're busy and tend to schedule social events well in advance.  depending on the date's personality and the connection, the pre-dating period could be relatively uneventful.  it might consist of no more than a few e-mails or text messages exchanged for the purpose of setting up the first meeting. 

on the other hand, with the right type of person, the pre-dating period could prove to be quite fun.  by way of analogy, good pre-dating is a lot like pre-heating the oven.  pre-heating creates a hot environment in which your food will cook fast when the time is right.  pre-dating, when done right and when given a long enough opportunity to heat up, can create a hot environment in which chemistry could really get cooking when the time is right, i.e. the first date.  flirty e-mails and text messages might be exchanged.  maybe some photos.  a Facebook request is always fun (even though i usually don't accept the friend request until after meeting the guy, this provides the opportunity to stalk him without his being able to stalk me).  


i'm currently pre-dating my oven.  oh.  wait.  mixed up my metaphors.  at any rate, a series of fortunate circumstances caused a first date that i scheduled to get pushed back for more than a week.  first i had to cancel because i forgot that i had already made plans for that night.  then he had to cancel because he got sick with the flu or something unattractive.  cancel + cancel = an extended pre-dating period. 

and i'm having a lot of fun with it.  he's not a complete grammar retard like most guys, so i don't mind the e-mail chain we have going.  and he's fairly flirty via text (our generation's version of uninhibited anonymity), which can really brighten up a dull afternoon, especially when the text includes a disgusting yet somehow cute photo of him sick in bed.  god bless the iPhone.  


i'm enjoying pre-dating this guy even though i am fully aware that it probably won't go anywhere.  i say that not to be a Debbie Downer, but because i know myself.  i never like them once i meet them.  i usually find a reason why we can't date.  (on the upside, i often keep them as friends.  oh yes, my menagerie of almost-dateable but fully lovable friends.)  so despite my self-awareness and general pessimism regarding the dating that i'm trying to effectuate, i am currently very much enjoying pre-dating someone.  


so there you go.  i've found someone who i really like over text, and we're pre-dating.  

hm.  maybe i just.... shouldn't... meet him.  ever...
 

quote of the week, thus far

 

"I'm just so glad the holidays are over so everything can get back to normal."

these upsetting words were spoken by my Ma, who just wanted all her houseguests to leave so that she could put away decorations, clean guest bedrooms, close rarely-opened doors in the house, and live in the organized, spotless, quiet world she so cherishes.


although the woman didn't mean any harm or application to anyone's life or home but her own, her statement made me feel sick to my stomach.  the holidays are over.  now what?  

back to normal.  back to normal?


but i told myself that after the holidays were over, i wouldn't return to normal.  i'd do something different.  i'd start seriously hunting for a new job.  i'd start eating vegetables every day -- so many vegetables! maybe even some fruit -- i'd be healthy and thin, maybe even vegan-thin, that level of thinness between heroin chic and malnourished.  god, i envy vegans.  and while i'm at it, i'd stop drinking so much vodka.  decaffeinated herbal tee would be my relaxant of choice.  i'd find ways to be happy without alcohol and happy hours with friends and comfort food.  yes, i'd be happy on my own. these weren't resolutions, but these were to-do's to-scratch off my to-do-and-then-scratch-off list.  i really meant these ones, and after the holidays i'd really shake things up in my life.


but after the holidays are over, all of that is not so easily done as it was said, repeatedly, before the holidays were over.  


for example, i spent hours searching for jobs online.  turns out they're not just giving them away like they did a few years ago.  apparently i had forgotten about those months i spent wandering in the desert of unemployment.  apparently those words we hear on the news, like "recession" and "depression" and "Angelina Jolie" aren't just scary buzz-words thrown around to scare people into reducing their consumer spending and keeping a watchful eye on their toddlers.  things might be bad out there, y'all.


oh, and vegetables.  turns out you can't eat them if you haven't gone out and "bought" them.  yeah, apparently they "go bad" and "don't last long," so you have to "go grocery shopping" and not in the way i meant it in 2010 (see vodka, above).


all that said, i've gotten a start, if only a feeble one.  i updated my resume and researched jobs for a while, and now i'm about to put on my shoes to walk to the local farmers' market and buy vegetables.  so many vegetables.  

tomorrow i'll work on being happy without happy hour.

 

gaiman says...

 

May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you’re wonderful, and don’t forget to make some art — write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself.