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