a lot to do

when i die an old, married man, i hope that people say of me, "He was kind."

i hope that i die wealthy, but not so wealthy that i've stopped voting Democrat.

i hope that someone says of me that he or she never saw me lose my temper, not even at work.

i hope that i am remembered in many funny stories.  

i hope that my body will ultimately have a few tattoos or scars (preferably tattoos, but i still await an image or verse worth permanently markering).  

i hope that i've married the love of my life, and that we don't die too far apart, for fear of one of us grieving for too long.  

between now and far-off then, i have a lot to do.  

post(ing) secret(s)

post(ing) secret(s)

had been love

in summary

yep, i think that just about sums up my blog during its first 6 years.  

what do they expect?

when a recipe requires 1/4 cup of white wine...

there's only one thing to do with the rest of the (largest) bottle (i could find at the wine shop).

this morning i have a headache, but the baked pasta with zucchini and corn was fantastic.  BIG UPS to Cassifrass for bringing me delicious, farm-fresh sweet corn from our motherland.

"subconscious." by Calvin Klein

i try not to give away too many of my dating secrets, but last night i shared one of my tricks with some friends, and they liked the idea.  i figured i should share it with all y'all and ask if you think it's crazy or creepy.  you're always so great about commenting and e-mailing me with honest reactions to my confessions.


i don't think that what i'm about to tell you is creepy -- if i did, i wouldn't be sharing it with the blogosphere -- but i admit that it's somewhat manipulative.  


we all know that our memories are closely linked to our senses of smell.  for years, i've tried to harness that link to subtly manipulate the guys i like.  when i'm getting to know someone new, someone i really like, i make sure to always wear the same cologne around him.  this might seem like a no-brainer to you if you have one cologne or perfume and wear nothing else; however, if you're like me and have a collection of scents, you can try this tactic.  i think that people will subconsciously associate a familiar scent with good times, such as when a romance is blossoming.  to be able to remind someone of your first kiss or your first night together, even a year later, could be very powerful.


an aside about scents:  i have about 7 or 8 colognes in rotation. while that may be excessive (shopping for fragrances is something that i really enjoy), everyone should have at least two, because a scent that's great in the winter isn't necessarily great in the summer.  for example, i wear a heavy, strong Versace cologne in cold months but would never wear it on a hot summer day, when perspiration can make a strong fragrance overpowering and unpleasant.  for summer months, Clinique and Nautica are my go-to's.  this is important stuff, people.


by way of illustration, i'll tell you about my courtship of my ex, A, several years ago.  our relationship began as a friendship, mostly because i didn't know he liked boys, but the first night that we kissed i was wearing Dolce & Gabbana.  it was a great night.  fun and memorable.  after that, i made sure to wear the same scent every time we went on a date.  despite finding other great colognes and wearing them around him socially, i never failed to wear D&G when we had one-on-one dates.  


does this seem crazy?  it makes so much sense to me, i'm almost religious about it. recently, the effectiveness of this tactic was confirmed.  the first night that i knew i'd be sleeping over at the Doctor's house, i wore a great TokyoMilk scent that i've loved for years but rarely wear in public because it's a fairly feminine scent.  the first time that he slept at my apartment, i spritzed myself with the fragrance before bed.  last week when the now long-distance Doctor visited me at home, he told me he always loved my smell.  little does he know, i orchestrated that.  


another ex once told that me i always smelled like fabric softener.  i did, but only around him.


it's not my goal to have a distinct scent for every partner in my life.  in fact, it's not my goal to have more than one boyf.  my goal is to meet my future husband and, some day down the line -- five or ten years from now -- still be wearing a scent that will remind him of when we first met, when we were young and new in one another's life.  i just hope YSL never stops making my favorite cologne.  that's a potential risk with this trick.


so what do you think?  am i insane? manipulative?  do i just have too much time on my hands, making me mindful of these things?




oh, by the way, don't tell anyone.  i don't want the men of Maryland catching on to my wiles.  our little secret.

post(ing) secret(s)

it was the cool thing to do among my high school friends.  i hope some of them have gotten over it by now.  wherever they may be.

the next ironic chef

i haven't been posting often on here, as i haven't had many new adventures as of late.  my dating life isn't very exciting, and aside from bidding adieu to a certain person who i'm sure you're all sick of hearing about, my social life is equally uneventful.  work is enjoyable but keeps me busy and running all over the place.  the Jetta is my third home now.  the second is this filthy little dive bar where my girl Faye and i can sit for hours, drinking pitchers of cheap beer and listening to random tunes on the jukebox.  

today i'm writing because i actually have a new adventure to tell you about.

tomorrow i'm teaching a cooking class.

i know, right?  how ridic.  aside from a few adventures like this one and this one in my Philadelphia kitchen while on "sabbatical" in the past, i don't cook.  all my friends know that i don't cook.  that's why i gravitate toward people who do -- so that they can cook for me.  i know my way around a bar and can create magic with a cocktail shaker, but kitchen appliances are foreign territory to me.  so why am i now sitting at my kitchen island, surrounded by bags and bags of produce, psyching myself up to learn some cooking techniques to share with strangers in the morning?

if this story were to impart a moral, it would likely be this: beware your own over-confidence.  when my boss came to me to complain that the two chefs who teach weekly cooking classes for my company are both unavailable for an upcoming event, i shouldn't have said a word.  instead, my arrogance spoke up: "It can't be that hard.  You should teach it."  

"I can't teach the class," he responded.  "Could you teach a class about growing and cooking tomatoes?" he asked incredulously.

"I could teach anything if I had the information."

and with that, i unwittingly volunteered to teach a class about growing a food that i have never grown, making sauce that i have never made, and creating culinary masterpieces that i have no desire to create, using techniques that are foreign to me.  all of which is happening tomorrow morning.

sure, i tried to find someone else to teach the class.  i asked everyone i knew who has ever eaten a tomato if they'd like to teach the class. i tried to get out of it without appearing insecure or as though i'm not a team player.  my efforts failed, so ultimately i embraced the upcoming adventure.  i view it as a role and myself as an actor.  i will be lie-telling all morning about my gardening experience (i have a phone date with my mom scheduled for this evening so that she can tell me all about gardening and growing tomatoes), and i will -- as they say -- fake it 'til i make it. 

i have just returned from a trip to Whole Foods, where i spent $50 on tomatoes and walked around like a lost puppy, looking for chives and leeks.  in fact, i was just about to ask a hipster employee, "What does a leek look like?" when i remembered the blue yarn leek soup scene in Bridget Jones' Diary and thankfully recalled the look of her raw leeks before i had to embarrass myself with that alliteration.

the oven is pre-heating for some serious veggie roasting that's about to go down, and i'm mentally embracing my upcoming starring role as Chef Matthew.  at this point, i'm even a bit excited for the challenge.

as i see it, i have a few things that will work in my favor tomorrow:

1. my aforementioned over-confidence and arrogance.  

2. teaching isn't difficult.  some of the dumbest people i knew in high school and college are now teachers. i've been on dates with teachers who can barely speak or type English.  no offense to any of you dummies who teach dumb children, but it doesn't take a genius to process information and regurgitate it to other, less informed people.

3. the class attendees are mostly middle-aged women, and for whatever reason, middle-aged women tend to find me very charming.  once a woman hits her 50's, i'm suddenly her type.  just a few weeks ago, i had a 70-year old woman basically hit on me, saying, "I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but I love you in those glasses.  My husband wore horn rimmed glasses, and it still gives me a little tingle to see a man in them."  true story.  i felt uncomfortable thinking about her tingle.  i often wish that 30-year old men would react to me the way that old women do.

4. my experience with ambiguity.  i've been in this position before.  as a teenage camp counselor, i was expected to teach children to drive canoes on top of water.  i had never been in a canoe, and i don't particularly like water.  i'm an awful swimmer, and stagnant lake water makes my skin crawl and itch.  even the ocean seems filthy, and i don't like to be in it.  anyway, i taught canoeing for several summers, and i still maintain that no child died due to any fault or negligence of mine.  

5. i now have a working oven.  this final point may seem random, but as of late my oven has not been functional.  you see, late one night in the near past, someone came home from a bar where someone had too many wodka drinks and tried to re-heat some very cheesy pizza in my oven.  here's the abridged version of the story: cheese all over oven floor, oven not cleaned, roommate of said person tried to use oven a few days afterward, actual fire started in oven, fire extinguisher grabbed but instructions were so complicated it was not used, flames and smoke, yada yada yada, oven had to be cleaned well by me this morning to prepare for roasting i'll be doing this evening.  roommate is still displeased with me for what i did to the oven. 

so here goes.  i just made myself a cocktail, and i'm pulling out my borrowed mandoline and other mysterious kitchen tools to begin prepping for tomorrow's class.  

i have a fun night of roasting ahead of me.  wish me luck! 

i'll let you know how well the class goes.  i have no doubt that it will be a great success because, well, see bullet point no. 1, above.

always on the road

Once you realize that the road is the goal and that you are always on the road, not to reach a goal, but to enjoy its beauty and its wisdom, life ceases to be a task and becomes natural and simple, in itself an ecstasy.

- Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj

   

what you missed

this has never been my favorite thing to do, posting an informative catch-up post after not blogging for a considerable amount of time.  unfortunately, it's the best way to get back in the saddle after time away from you.


the reason that this isn't my favorite thing is because not much has been happening anyway.  i don't really have much to share.  there, that's my disclaimer.  you can stop reading now, because there will be nothing interesting below.  regardless...


the short version is, i've been staying very busy with work and the gym and shopping and dating, and i love Girls, and life is generally very good.


the long version is, work is sometimes frustrating and stressful, but i never dread going there.  i try to have fun and try to ensure that my co-workers have fun, every single day.  not to sound arrogant or anything, but if i were to leave my job, about 80% of the people there would either quit or kill themselves or both, in that order.  i'm confident about the percentage because they've all told me so.  wherever you stand, be the soul of the place.


i still think one or two visits to the gym per week is sufficient, though i've been visiting mine more often as of late because that's where the tanning booth that i pay to use is located.  i know that tanning is bad, but it's important for pasty pale people like me this time of year, even if it means going to that awful place called the gym.  oftentimes i cannot fathom even getting out of my car to walk into the gym after a long day at work; however, i convince myself to stop in and even work out for about 20 minutes just so that i can tan.  only once could i not bring myself to work out, or even put on workout clothes, so i scanned in at the gym, tanned, and left.  my entire drive home, i was certain that every single man in the gym stopped what he was doing, set down the weights, and watched me walk out without doing any sort of workout.  


i would like to add that, in a continuing effort to look 25 forever, i make sure to apply SPF 30 to my face and neck before tanning.  this has not yet resulted in any awful clavicle tan lines.


shopping -- well, in the past year or so (read: ever since quitting the law firm job that paid for my addiction) i've developed a great deal of self-restraint while in malls.  my few remaining weaknesses are J. Crew, Banana and Yankee Candle Company.  i am powerless against sales on seasonally appropriate chinos and candle scents that might make my house smell as though it's clean.


finally, an update on my dating life... i sometimes feel that i write about dating too often on this blog.  as if that's all i care about, or as if it's the only thing going on in my life.  well, it's not.  sometimes i rent movies and watch them alone.  also, until i recently began a month-long alcohol detox at which i am currently failing, i liked to drink with friends often.  having said all that, most of my time spent socializing with other humans outside of work involves dating.


to catch you up, i've been hanging out with Brad for just over a month now.  i haven't previously told you anything about him, because it's not exciting in any way.  occasionally Brad provides me with a funny story to tell friends and coworkers (such as when he was upset with me for using "drugs," but only until he Googled Ambien to find out what horrible illegal high i was enjoying) or a fun time together at a bar or, in the case of this past Sunday Funday, at a casino.  Brad is a great guy, and i'm trying diligently not to lead him on.  is there any harm in casually dating someone while keeping an eye out for Mr. Right?  i tell myself that there is not.


that's pretty much it for my dating life.  oh,alsoiguessishouldmentionthati'veseenthedoctortwicethisweekinorderto"saygoodbye"beforehemovesfar,faraway.


finally, i love Girls.  since Cassifrass gave me her HBO GO log-in, i've been watching a ton of my old fave, Curb Your Enthusiasm, catching up on the nudity of True Blood before it came back, and thoroughly enjoying the new series Girls.  it's often laugh-out-loud funny but, within the same episode, can be so raw and self-reflection-inducing that a weaker man might be tempted to cry.  if you haven't yet seen it, i highly recommend it.



and that's what you missed on -- ME!
  

post(ing) secret(s)

you, too?


for me it began in childhood, as a defense against monsters and bigfoot.  yeah, bigfoot.  so what? wanna fight about it?  i was terrified by the movie Harry and the Hendersons.  gave me nightmares.  plus, our house was surrounded by forest.  


two decades later, my under-cover sleeping habit is more about comfort/noise than self-defense.  even in uncomfortably warm weather, i have to be under the sheets.  

tolle says...

You are the universe, expressing itself as a human for a little while.

  

post(ing) secret(s)

for you.

we're bad people, part XIX

for years, i've been using this blog as a sort of confessional, where rather than a priest sitting on the other side of a screen, i've trusted that you non-judgmental blog readers were withholding judgment while sitting in front of your own screens.  for example, i've confessed awful, awful secrets about my musical preferences.  over the years i've confessed many strategic secrets about my dating life.  today i have to confess a truly heinous secret.  


by now, you know a lot about the doctor.  we're no longer dating, but we are developing a very nice friendship while he remains in the country.  what i may have failed to mention to many of you is that the doctor is Muslim and has never imbibed a drop of alcohol in his life.  believe it or not, i didn't have much of a problem with this while we were dating (i know, right?  this would usually be a deal-breaker, but when you fall for someone...).  he's a fantastic designated driver, and he was always able to dance and have fun with nothing more in his system than a Redbull.  i've always found that impressive, since i need at least 9 oz. of vodka in my body to even look toward a dance floor.  


last night, D and i decided that we weren't impressed.  for whatever reason, after a few drinks, we decided that it was time for the doctor to experience alcohol. we were determined to make this happen.  when he arrived at our apartment to "pre-game" before going out, i offered him a cocktail.  no dice.  D, our buddy Mike and I had lots of wodka while the doctor drank water.  


when we arrived at the bar, i once again offered to get the doctor a drink.  no dice.  he said he'd have his usual, a Redbull.  it was at this point that D lost her patience.  she went to the bar, ordered drinks for me, Mike and herself, and then asked the bartender if she'd pour some vodka into a Redbull can.  the bartender, who has had a crush on D for a while, was happy to oblige.  events like this are just one of the reasons that D is my BFF and the love of my young life.


i'd like to take a moment to again ask you to please withhold judgment.  if you believe in Allah, that's fine. mazel tov.  i'm sure he loves you with a firm hand and makes every day special for you.  personally, i believe in a loving god who wants us to enjoy all of the fruits of the earth, including wine, which the prophet Jesus drank, presumably in excess.  i don't like to drink wine, because my teeth are very white and i want to keep them that way; therefore, clear and pure vodka is my drink of choice.  my point is, i don't think the doctor will burn in hellfire for drinking alcohol unwittingly.  i'm sure he'll still receive a dozen young virgins at heaven's gates, as promised in the Quran.  too bad he won't want to touch any of them. 


back to my story: i can't believe that the bartender did it, but three times throughout the night she poured out half the can of Redbull and filled it with vodka, after which she swirled it to mix the caffeine and sin, and then inserted a straw for the doctor.  and he never even noticed.  


by the end of the second Redbull, he was dancing energetically.  i laughed uncontrollably as we danced.  by the end of the third, the doctor was having a heartfelt conversation with D about life and dating.  somehow he never noticed that, for the first time in his life, he was drinking alcohol.  i guess if you have no frame of reference.... 


this morning i texted the doctor to make sure that he was alive and not in prison.  he's fine.  a bit of a headache, and he has no idea why, but he's fine.  


like i said, we're bad people.  too bad i'm incapable of feeling what you people call "guilt."  


it was a fun night. allegedly, we had hot dogs in the wee hours of the morning. and i feel better after confessing this evil deed.  the end. 

post(ing) secret(s)

i like to think i'm a fairly sane and well-grounded, but i share this person's ridiculous fear.  

otherwise i'm afraid of nothing.  well -- snakes are scary.  so are horses.  and i'm afraid of contracting rabies, but only after seeing that awful film, I Am Legend.

day says...

“I like joy. I want to be joyous... I want to smile and I want to make people laugh. And that’s all I want. I like it. I like being happy. I want to make others happy.”

me too, Doris.

IF

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise: 

If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!

Rudyard Kipling

salinger says...

I’m just sick of ego, ego, ego. My own and everybody else’s. I’m sick of everybody that wants to get somewhere, do something distinguished and all, be somebody interesting. It’s disgusting.

 

on letting go. a reminder.

because last week i re-read (yeah, i'm a habitual re-reader) Eat Pray Love. and because the same part(s) that made me cry the first time and the second time made me cry the third time (no, you're a girl!).  so i'll just share again.

re-blogged from September 25, 2007:

What I had wanted for so long was to have an actual conversation with my ex-husband, but this was obviously never going to happen. What I had been craving was a resolution, a peace summit, from which we could emerge with a united understanding of what had occurred in our marriage, and a mutual forgiveness for the ugliness of our divorce...

I climbed to the top of the tower... the sun was going down right now. The breeze was warm. I unfolded the piece of paper the plumber/poet had given me.
He had typed:

INSTRUCTIONS FOR FREEDOM
1. Life's metaphors are God's instructions.
2. You have just climbed up and above the roof. There is nothing between you and the Infinite. Now, let go.
3. The day is ending. it's time for something that was beautiful to turn into something else that was beautiful. Now, let go.
4. Your wish for resolution was a prayer. Your being here is God's response. Let go, and watch the stars come out - on the outside and on the inside.
5. With all your heart, ask for grace, and let go.
6. With all your heart, forgive him, FORGIVE YOURSELF, and let him go.
7. Let your intention be freedom from useless suffering. Then, let go.
8. Watch the heat of the day pass into the cool night. Let go.
9. When the karma of a relationship is done, only love remains. It's safe. Let go.
10. When the past has passed from you at last, let go. Then climb down and begin the rest of your life. With great joy.


... And then, to my surprise, still in meditation, I did an odd thing. I invited my ex-husband to please join me up here on this rooftop in India. I asked him if he would be kind enough to meet me up here for this farewell event. Then I waited until I felt him arrive. And he did arrive. His presence was suddenly absolute and tangible. I could practically smell him. 

I said, "Hi, sweetie..."

post(ing) secret(s)

this one baffles me.

The Hunger Date

when the doctor called a few days ago "just to catch up," i was caught off-guard.  we've talked often since the dating game ended, but we hadn't seen one another in person for a while.  because of my surprise, i failed to -- as my roommate called it -- "hide the eagerness."  

doc: I really want to see The Hunger Games.

me: Yeah, so do I.  It looks awesome. 

doc: Did you read the books? 

me: Yeah -- well, the first one.  It's really good.  I can't wait to see the movie. 

doc: I'm on call this weekend, but, um, what are you doing Monday night?

and just like that, we had a "date."  a friend date, though.  we're just friends.  he's leaving the country/hemisphere.  these are the things that i told myself during the time leading up to The Hunger Date.  


i didn't have too much time to be nervous, though, since i had a novel to read by Monday night.  you see, i hadn't actually read The Hunger Games when i told the doctor that i had read, and enjoyed, The Hunger Games.  oops.  sometimes i lie to guys.  


i spent Saturday evening in bed (yes, i gave up a night of drinkdancing) reading THG.  i was on the edge of my comforter.  it may have been written for teenagers, but The Hunger Games has everything i needed to get hooked into a fascinating, gruesome, page-turning story.  i simply couldn't put it down, and not only because i needed to have read it by Monday's date.  i read until 2:30 AM and enjoyed every minute of it.  


okay, people, i can sense your judgment from THIS FAR AWAY.  i know, it was somewhat desperate.  i'm hungry for romantic time with a man who i enjoy, and the doctor and i have great chemistry.  whether the night held in store a kiss or a cuddle or even just that special movie theatre lean-in, i wanted it.  i was out to get it.  i was hungry for some quality time.   my roommate assumed that i just wanted sexy time, which i promise you was not the case.  


"Okay, see you in the morning," she said as i checked my intentionally bouffant hair and got ready to walk out the door.  


unfortunately, i saw her at home three hours later.  


there was no kissing.  there was no sleepover.  there was only that special movie theatre lean-in, throughout most of the movie, during which i should've suggested that he sit in my seat, since it appeared that he so badly wanted to be there.  i, on the other hand, played it cool, boy.  reeeeal cool.  


i let him lean onto me during the gruesome parts of the film (which is so vanilla compared to the gory details of the novel).  i told him that i miss him and that it was good seeing him.  but i did not walk him home, four blocks from the theater.  i insisted upon an intersection good-bye.  i allowed a hug.  i was a good friend and a good movie companion.  because we are friends.  we are companions.  




i would never admit it to him, but i was hungry for much more.  

all things new

i was so happy for my friend who, via phone the other night, told me about being accepted into a graduate program in a new city.  

"When are you moving??" i asked. 

"I don't know.  I have to figure that out.  I have to figure a lot of things out."

friend, i've been thinking about you and your exciting life changes all day.  i know you're both elated and overwhelmed.  your head probably feels like it's spinning, like you've had one too many glasses of wine and you're just the tiniest bit dizzy.  i understand this feeling.  it's natural.  (for relief, i suggest having a few glasses of wine and taking your mind off of things for a while.)  you've been in Philadelphia for so many years, and suddenly it is no longer "home."  it's a waiting room.


if i were to give you any advice, i would say to look only forward.  of course, be mindful of and enjoy those things about your longtime home that you will miss -- the walks through familiar parks, the sticky buns at the market, the constant reminders of years gone by and friends gone away.  


but soon you'll find new parks through which to wander, new photo opportunities, new decadence, new coffee shops where you feel comfortable enough to have a bm, and new memories with new friends.  you won't have to think of the people who have moved away or the ones remaining who you hope you won't run into.  you'll be in a new place.  you'll be a new you.  


i am so excited for you, and i hope that when your head stops spinning, you are full of joy and excitement. who knows what's in store for you?  who knows the great people you will meet? who knows who you will love?  Jesus knows.  but he doesn't want to talk to you, because you're gay. 


seriously, though...  so happy.


amore e baci.  

rule for life #203

If you like someone enough to date him, you should like him enough to be his friend when the dating ends.

if i haven't told you about, or haven't updated you recently regarding, NASA guy, don't get too excited for this update.  in short, it didn't end well.




it would appear that i have, as of late, behaved responsibly and maturely in my dating life.  i took things very slow with NASA -- slow like one drink, no touching, and a scheduled second date an entire week later.  like an adult would do.  the truth is, maturity had nothing to do with it.  when we first met, i was cautious only because he seemed like a good catch, and i didn't want to tarnish his sterling opinion of me.  even now, looking back, i have to admit that NASA is great on paper, which reads like this: ex-military midwestern guy, taller than me, blue eyes, drives an awesome Volvo, works for NASA (obvi) and has a dog.  for what more could i ask?  


a personality, for starters.


after a couple weeks of talking and one date under our belts, i still wasn't sure what was the deal with this guy.  he wasn't getting any more interesting, and i needed to figure out if i should check the friend box or the boyfriend box beside his name.  on date two, i decided that NASA was boring and that there was no chemistry.  afterward, at our sidewalk goodbye that he made uncomfortable by asking for a good night kiss (dear everyone: never ask.  asking, in reference to kissing, is always the least attractive move you can make), i realized that i needed to have the JF talk with NASA post-haste.  


to make my to-do more awkward, NASA hadn't noticed that our dates were boring or that we had no chemistry.  apparently i just had no chemistry.  NASA had lots of chemistry.  over the course of the next few dates, he made abundantly clear that he liked me and saw me as a potential husband.  way sooner than he should have made clear anything of the sort.


then i got an idea, which NASA supported eagerly, mostly because he supported eagerly everything i ever suggested or decided, because he had no personality of his own.  i wanted to make one final attempt.  my idea was that we needed to drink together -- not just a beer or a few happy hour cocktails, but an actual drunken night.  the level of fun of that event, and that alone, would finally determine whether NASA was dateable.  


did you know that it's possible to be bored while you are also intoxicated?  i, sir, did not.  until last week.  now i know.  it was boring.  that's what i'm getting at here.  drunk date was boring.  for me, i should add.  not for NASA.  while waiting for his cab to arrive, dude attempted to finally get physical.  i'm not exaggerating (which i rarely do on here, believe it or not) when i tell you that i literally pushed his mouth away from my face by reaching up a hand and exerting physical pressure against his face.  it was time to have the talk.  


i tried several of my tactics: we have great friend chemistry, i have a lot of fun with you as a friend, i'm just not feeling romantic chemistry, yada yada yada. NASA was not having any of it.  not responding well.  and here's where we get today's rule.  


"I had a fun night with you.  I'm just more interested in hanging out as friends."


"I have no interest in being friends with you."


verbatim.  can you belie'dat?  being the kind-hearted, Gandhi-ish person that i am, i gave him the benefit of the doubt and didn't give up on him.  i decided that i should try again when NASA was sober, such as the next morning.  when i asked about his day, his response was arctic:


"I respect that you don't want to date me. Please respect that I don't want to be your pal."


ver-ba-tim.  24 hours prior, he was planning to introduce me to his friends and had even asked me what i was doing on the following two weekends.  24 hours later, NASA wanted nothing to do with me. 


do you think this is acceptable?  is it understandable?  to me, this simply doesn't make sense.  how can you like a person romantically but want absolutely nothing to do with him or her once romance is no longer on the table?  i'd like to know your thoughts.

post(ing) secret(s)

only time.


  

weedn says...

If one dream should fall and break into a thousand pieces, never be afraid to pick one of those pieces up and begin again.

  

post(ing) secret(s)

my own secret: 


my mom didn't tell me or my brother when she was diagnosed with breast cancer.  i was away at college, and my brother was distant back then.  


she told us later, after everything had been "taken care of."  when she told us, i was initially upset.  in retrospect, i respect her strength and resolve.  it takes a lot of both to keep secrets, and we were all better off for it.  


i'm a firm believer that most secrets, if kept, hurt no one.

jobs said...

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life.  Don't be trapped by dogma, which is living with the results of other people's thinking.  Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice.  And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition.  They somehow already know what you truly want to become. 

my baby wrote me a letter

Dear Matthew,


I know you're trying to cleanse and eat healthy foods and not drink, but I really miss you.  I know you miss me.  I've heard you telling co-workers how much you miss me.  I've seen you staring longingly at the liquor cabinet while you sip sleepytime tea before bed.


Let's hang out tonight.  Just for one night.  I know you have to wake up early.  Honestly, it might hurt in the morning, but you used to think that I'm worth it.  Remember the fun times that we used to have?  


I'll be waiting for you at the bar.


Love,


Vodka

 

palahniuk says...

What I want is to be needed. What I need is to be indispensable to somebody. Who I need is somebody that will eat up all my free time, my ego, my attention. Somebody addicted to me. A mutual addiction.

just putting this out into the universe. to see what it might bring.

'tis the season, right? but then, that's also how i justified buying the bag of amazing, coconut-filled Hershey's kisses that i will finish by the weekend.

post(ing) secret(s)

i'm unable to read letters, e-mails and even texts without mentally covering them in red ink; however, i've never returned an edited love letter to someone.  i've done plenty of other dick-ish things, but not that.

rule for life #119

When your romantic relationship with a person has come to an end, stop sleeping with that person.

you would think that i would've/should've/could've learned this lesson from my previous two break-ups, but apparently i did not.  one of those break-ups was a tough, tumultuous, 8-year off-and-on debacle, and the other was a year-long experiment in loving a newbie.  in each case i made the almost fatal mistake of continuing to sleep with the person i loved after the relationship ended.


now i'm doing it again.  ugh.  sometimes, i really hate me.  not often, though.  


let me back up.  if you haven't been reading my blog since i moved to the city of Baltimore, you might not know that i've been dating a truly lovely foreign surgeon who told me on our second date that his program was ending within the next year and that he most likely would not be staying in the DC/Metro area.  


now you're caught up, and NO, this is not the plot of a stupid rom-com.  it's real life, y'allz.  oh, also, my new drunkover favorite has changed from P.S. I Love You to The Wedding Date. (i mention this because a lot of my readers e-mail and comment on PSILY posts, regardless of how many times i write them, and i still heart that movie, but, i'm kind of moving on.)


this week we finally had the emotionless, realistic, logical conversation that has been coming for a while: 

D: I'm not going to be staying in Baltimore. 

Me: I assumed as much.  Drat!  Awful.  Do you have any attractive co-workers with whom you might set me up?

that's not exactly how it went, but it's close.  i omitted some tears and also a trip to Hole Foods, during which i spent $40 and after which i had nothing to eat.  isn't that the way with that grocery store?  yes, is your answer.


where was i? oh, we're going to be great friends.  at least until he moves back to whatever country from whence he came.  but there's only one problem:


the sleepovers. 


*bum-bummm.*


how do you let go of that thin string of comfort onto which i have a horrible habit of holding?  h h h alliteration is cool.  


why have i not learned my lesson by now?  i'm fully aware that, despite my single and ready to mingle status, i absolutely will NOT mingle while there is the prospect of coming home to a bed filled with him.


in my mind, i'm perfectly free and open to meeting new people.  my body, on the other hand, wants to return to the spoon position to which it has become accustomed in the past 5 months, the annoying snores and nightfarts (mine, not his. just being 100 here) that have become commonplace in either bed, the early morning wake-ups and pager noises that are foreign to anyone outside of the medical field (seriously, why are they still using pagers?  pagers go hand in hand with leeches and blood-letting.  both of those are from the 1990's, right?).  it's comfortable.  why would i expend time and energy on something new?


but then, comfort kept me in an unhappy relationship for 8 years.  comfort kept me from talking to strangers in networking and social situations.  comfort killed the cat (not Atticus. nothing could kill that recovering bulimic).  comfort is a cage.


it's time to get uncomfortable.  i'm going out dancing tonight, and i'm gonna get uncomfortable with some unlucky guys.  wait.... that doesn't sound right.

Sunday, busy Sunday

days off are few and far between lately -- well, i should specify: days off without a sleep deficit and without a hangover are few and far between lately.  


so when i'm lucky enough to have one, like today, i have lots of things on my to-do list.  it sucks to do anything on Sunday other than lie supine and stare at a television box, but yesterday was my hung over, napful, foodful day for the week, so i got that all out of my system.


thus, i give you today's to-do's:


1. 5 loads of laundry.  almost finished.


2. coffee and brunch with the doctor, to celebrate his awful exam being finished.  done.  when you're in Baltimore, make sure to stop by Milk & Honey.  one of my favorite neighborhood hangouts.  even T likes it when she visits, and she's a total cafe snob.


3.  change bed linens.  i used to do this about twice a week, and lately i've become really lazeballs about it. i assure you that i'm not super gross, but i'm changing my sheets not even once per 7 day week these days.  kinda sick.


4.  buy new shoes while shopping in the suburbs this afternoon.  i hate all my shoes this week.


5.  buy new gym shorts.  i don't know how it has happened, by two of my regular pairs suddenly seem so short.  i'm a little bit embarrassed to walk around my very straight gym wearing short shorts.  somehow that never bothered me at any other gym.


6.  buy Ingrid's new album while shopping in the suburbs.  i should've had it days ago when it came out, but i never buy albums on iTunes -- mostly because i like to pass them along.  i buy the hard copy, rip it onto my computer, and then give away the cd.  


7.  visit a big chain restaurant in suburbs during our shopping trip, and eat something unhealthy.  i've already discussed this with my buddy Peter, and he's down for it.


8.  catch up on about 100,000 weeks of blogs and celeblogs, which i miss terribly but never seem to find the time to enjoy.


9.  continue to ponder the mysterious onset and equally mysterious, though welcomed, decline of Atti's bulimia, which has miraculously been cured during the past week and a half (praise Buddha!).


10.  vacuum.  always vacuuming.  


11.  try taking melatonin again and see how it makes me feel, as it didn't put me into a coma the first time i tried it, but then i realized that maybe it's not supposed to work that way.


12.  tell myself that i should spend more quality time with my computer in the future, as i miss all your blogs and Facebook shenanigans.  




well, i better get busy.  it's after 1 and i've completed only the first three on my list.  time to shop.  
  

dahl says...

And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places.

too bad i already chose my 2012 mantra, because this is a lovely idea onto which to hold. 

  

post(ing) secret(s)

wilde says...

I think it’s very healthy to spend time alone. You need to know how to be alone and not be defined by another person.

  

summer breeze

blowin' in through my house. in January.


if you live in the eastern US, i hope you're enjoying this beautiful summer weather.  my patio door is open, which is my favorite way to enjoy a warm, sunny day: from the couch.


my roommate and i are being lazy, though she's using the excuse that she has strep. throat or something.  i don't care to make excuses; laziness is my favorite way to spend an afternoon following a productive morning finishing all my to-do's.  now it's just me with my face covered in honey while i enjoy a Kardashians mini-marathon.


"Is the world ending this year? Does that have something to do with this weather?" the roommie asked.  


the answer is inarguably yes.  live it up while you can, sluts!!! 

  

to quit while i'm ahead

...or not to quit while i'm ahead.


as i mentioned to you back in October when i received a cryptic pub urinal message from the gods, i'm most likely expiration dating right now.  when the doctor's time at his hospital is up, he could end up anywhere in the country -- nay, anywhere in the world.  as of late, he has begun mentioning in passing that he has thought about returning home (far, far away and not even in this hemisphere).  chances are, he won't be here a year from now.


so i come to you, dear friends, readers, and fellow bloggers, with a question: do i quit while i'm ahead (e.g. we enjoy time together, but we haven't gotten too serious yet and have only said the "L" word accidentally while half asleep, and i could get out without being hurt or upset, so long as it's my choice) or risk getting closer and having a really tough time if/when he leaves Baltimore?


notwithstanding your much-appreciated advice, i'm leaning toward having the "just friends" talk soon.  because if i'm going to be left here in Baltimore 6 months down the line, i should be spending these months lining up a replacement boyfriend.  when i was packing up and leaving Philly, a friend very lovingly called me a "cold-hearted son of a bitch;" it's times like these that the cold heart comes in handy.


i'm too old for this shit.  i should be married to an I-banker by now, living in the suburbs, working part-time for a cancer non-profit and lovingly raising two children (King Charles spaniels. obviously.).


thoughts? go.
   

new year, new mantra

"I have not wasted today."




happy new year to you.

 

lennon says...

When I was 5 years old, my mother always told me that happiness was the key to life.  When I went to school, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grow up.  I wrote down, "happy."  

They told me I didn't understand the assignment, and I told them they didn't understand life.