Thanks Ovaries!

According to "reliable sources"(Cosmo et al), you are your most subliminal-y hottest when you're ovulating.  Now, I can seriously say I do not normally agree with anything in Cosmo - it is after all a magazine that survives solely on republishing the same drivel month after after in new forms - all of it preying on our internal Madonna/Whore dichotomy.

Nevertheless - back to my ovaries - apparently they are working right now.  I had some nice eye contact with a handsome man in the Starbucks line - totally a moment.* The one that impressed me more though was as I was on the packed express bus dripping with sweat (our driver dressed in shorts was determined to offset the cold outside - dude it's time for pants).  But of course I had my purse, laptop, e-book reader and a cup of coffee all more or less balanced on my lap.  It doesn't really leave room for the removal of one's jacket.  I did manage to get one arm out but I couldn't seem to navigate the second one.  That is until this extra hand appeared removing my coat.  Manners! In a young man nonetheless! He said, "It looked like you needed help, didn't want you to spill your coffee."  Seriously I could have hugged him - I felt like my thank-you was not enough to convey how refreshing it was to have someone be kind, especially someone of his age and gender.

But back to the at moment.*  The reason I give credit to my ovaries and not my personal awesomeness is well I am a graduate student - and we for the most part do not always look awesome.  I know you can say who am I to generalize.  True. Very true.  But compared to the corporate world - the ladies in the Starbucks line in pencil skirts, lots of leg and heels (gorgeous heels), who am I?  His attention actually made me acutely aware that I feel naked now that I'm not in the corporate world.   I miss my corporate clothes.  I miss the security that came with those high heels and skirts.  Now I'm just the very adult woman trying to figure out the world of skinny jeans and flats.   All that being said, as much as that moment in Starbucks made me uncomfortable, maybe it's an indicator that I'm doing okay in this new world, at least aesthetically speaking - as for grade wise - well that remains to be seen.

Last Weekend...

So we are going to back track a moment or two... since well I have the luxury of Ms. J's older laptop for the day so that I don't go insane stuck at home with a grand total of like 8 channels, when you subtract the French and Chinese language channels, and well you should throw out the government sponsored ones as well - they are never much fun... anyways.

I still can't really breathe and my body doesn't want to let me sleep, go figure. So I get to blog.

Now, I am going to divulge some information, so that if you were a really good stalker you can find me weekly... note if you do find me one of these times, make sure I've completed all my coffee first - it ensures I'll be nice to you and even if I'm not that the coffee won't end up on you...

I have a weekly date with my father at the local high end/organic grocery store/chain - we have coffee, I talk about my life and we swap recipes etc - it's an odd relationship no doubt. It was already odd enough, this week I added whispered yelling as my voice trying to hold in there and he added so how are you and AB? Oh bless your soul dear parental unit. So I had to tell him that AB is fine. But AB is a man child, an epidemic sweeping this nation great in size and a love for a particular sport, but while I may love him, and he in a drunken text may have claimed the same... I am putting my life on hold while he figures out if at 31 he's ready to shed his Peter Pan like ways.* So I left out the drunk text, the pseudo dating and as a whole glossed AB into a neat bundle in an attempt to reassure him that no more CEF like characters would be entering the picture and that maybe, just maybe one day I can meet a normal boy er man. Though as I learned in my blog surfing this morning, "who needs romance when you can have complication" that is sort of my mantra these days, though I don't know if it should be.

*Oddly enough he was Peter Pan's shadow for Halloween...

Photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/cara2393/2974763573/

So 8 hours later and one brief bus ride later...

I found myself sitting at my kitchen table, post non-brain clearing, non-emotional purging shower, eating coffee flavoured hagan daaz from the container while waiting for my sheets to dry wondering, wondering what the hell is all this. Really what is it, because I think I need to know, know that something in all this is true, has some basis in reality, has some purpose, because I for the first time in my life went on two dates* in one week with two different guys nonetheless and all I can do is shrug my shoulders and go, hmph, or more to the point WTF. When does this murkuier than mud, dance of a thousand missed facts and distorted perceptions becomes something different?

I spent 8 fucking hours with BV yesterday and all I got was a little side hug, like if you are not interested then lie, I don't care if you ditch me after the coffee and a walk, go for it, but don't go for dinner and then a movie and then walk me up Hastings to the bus stop at Main, wait for the bus to come for me and then give me a shitty hug and no further response. This is what I would like to clarify for the men as MIXED signals. Yes folks that it is fair to say is mixed, because your actions say you wanted to spend time with me thus the 8 hours, hell I stuck around because of that, and yet NOTHING. All I would like, all any girl would like is, if you are interested, which your actions are implying you are, is one a decent hug and maybe I'll call you or even if you are really interested another activity or something. It isn't that complicated, no sweeping romantic gestures needed, dude not looking for flowers, candlelight or a romcom to be the next movie choice, just a little sense of direction. So maybe I'm just burnt out, maybe I'm frustrated, maybe I just feel like a looser, like after you go on endless job interviews and while they seem to be good, apparently they're not... I don't know but there you go.

Run down of yesterdays events - coffee, jazz fest, bird poos on BV, wait for BV to get cleaned up, walk, talk, walk and walk and talk, get tired, have dinner - my credit card is decline - equal embarassment day, walk in the pouring rain minus the umbrella - and I in white, BV picks movie, walks me to bus stop, I text when home safe and that would be the night. I ended up confused, unable to sleep and so of course texted AB - for the love of mini doughnuts, it is all one big freaking mess.

*or pseudo dates or even date dates