Maybe You're Just not into Him

I realized that this morning as I was skimming my FB home page, maybe I'm just not that into him, maybe I just don't have the patience to wait or maybe at the heart of it all, we need to, correction I need to know he's really interested, and well he really isn't. It's not his fault, it's just not the right time, it's a missed connection, it's in the end an apathetic feeling that is only being sustained by well that feeling I get and I don't doubt the rest of us get. We want to have someone and a great someone sometimes only aggravates this. Who knows in the end I will say I am trying to give myself a heavy self dose of restraint/negativity/doubt to hold back, to see, to see if I he can win me over, if he is really interested and of course more importantly if I am. It' s hard, maybe in the end I'm just not really into anyone. Barista boy is nice, but in talking with C this weekend, he's 30+ and works at Sbucks for whatever reasons he might have, he might be a really great guy but well he's just not going to cut it in the end - he's going to take way too much work to get him confident enough. And OM - great on paper, but I wonder if we have it, you know "it." I am sure it doesn't help one bit that I'm in love with this song:

Giving Birth

I will say that I haven't had a child though apparently many believe I have - why, who knows? I've given up on that one, it could be because I look ravaged most mornings, I have my mom voice perfected, I have that all-seeing eagle eye mastered or maybe I just look like I recently gave birth - hey even worse I've been asked when I was due - granted that was a few years ago... oh bless our clients.

Anyways I will say I did or I have been giving birth to myself these past 7 months. I know that sounds narcissistic, but hold on. It's been one of the most painful, often humiliating, prodding, exposing experiences to go through lots and lots of therapy - both individual and group, and expose the inner workings of everything, and yet in the end know if I was asked to do it again, my answer would be hell yes. Yes, there was a definite hell component to all of this. But hey sometimes the pain is worth it, when you get to begin to see the result. So yes I might be single, I might be single for a very long time, but you know what, this life, this life I've been given is worth it. Dating or even marrying the wrong person is like feeding your child Kraft dinner, sure you know what, yes it shuts up the hunger pangs for a while, but it robs them of all the nutrition, complexity and beauty that a world of other food options could give them, like never tasting eggplant bartha and so on.

So I'm going to pass on the Kraft dinner men out there and hope that I find one more like ratatouille - hearty, good for you, complex and tried and true to feed this child.

The photo?: One because I wanted to capture the beauty and holistic/natural process of this past year and well because I and one of my lovely friends are huge supporters of "alternative" and ultimately more positive for all involved birthing options where possible. This process is also nothing like the one I've gone through.

Tally Ho

I'm off to spend the weekend with my iPod, camera and Crackberry in a Deluxe King Suite for two glorious nights. Sounds exciting, no? Actually it's not, though I might get to actually watch a playoff game this weekend, hopefully Philadelphia and Pittsburgh... Covert operations will be happening, names and numbers taken - maybe, maybe not and well a new city taken over, I must leave no city and no event unturned for my Mr. Tiffany's Ring buyer or my Mr. Love of a Lifetime, as I've yet to believe those are one and the same. Coach class here I come!!

Sigh

I don't wait well, I really don't, maybe I am ADHD, maybe I'm just a girl, a Gemini woman at that... So while I don't read into these things (horoscopes) too much, I know that I'm a little bi-polar when it comes to the emotional stuff. So while this isn't appropriate per say (the song), I was thinking about it - yes he's on the rebound, yes he wants to take it slow, but not so slow, that I'm like okay, you know what? "You're not winning, til you're winning me," and buddy, I am far from won, far from even being fully baited. At this point I would, could, might walk away and OM will just have to live it, I don't think it's going to bug him either, and that's the part that makes me more than tempted to walk... wonder if that's crossed him mind.


Potential Break Up Song - Aly & AJ

So I was thinking...

I know that thinking is bad for my health, but see I commute one hour into the boonies, slums, or whatever you want to call it almost every day - that's two whole hours to either sleep or plan blogs. Well this one is spurned on by the simple fact that my barista was in this morning, yes that barista. I realize I am over using the word awkward, but well when you have a line up forming behind you and you're doing the shy flirt dance, you know the one you do when you're like 13 and the whole process is painfully new. We'll it is what it is, I get my coffee the way I like it and get called sweetie in the process... awww... But is awww, shucks where we are at these days ladies?

I passed a birthday milestone a while back, and it did something to me and I realized something - there is now the internal competition between looking for man who will do right, and a man who will do it to me right... take a second think about that one. Yes I said it because I know you think it. We want good fathers and husbands but we are also looking for something more, a little flame, not a sizzle, or a flash in the pan - the kind of something that I know some couples have, and I am jealous of - that excitement all the years later. I can see that Barista boy is the good man type, and maybe OM is too - though I think he's slightly more the later... I don't know - I think we put so much hype in certain circles about one in preference over the other, that all we do is, a lot of wink, wink nudge nudge, but we can't seem to say, well that I want something more when it's all said and I do'd. Before all that can someone just get me out on a dance floor and take my breath away - it would help reduce my brain activity for one thing.

Photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/vistadelmundo/1736944337/

I Need Coffee

Since I am still trying to find my brain, my poor brain, it got abused by the tequila, and then it received no caffeine yesterday, was sedated last night because I needed it to stop working for a while, and now, now it's given up, it's vacated and I'm struggling to get my head into my office Internet usage policy... irony I know. But anywho - enjoy the song and I'm going to return to my brain hunt, maybe it's hiding from my doubts and insecurity...

The Show - Lenka

Soooo Tequila and I had a fling

And it went horrible and it involved heartburn and mumbling to my roommate about the horrors of the beverage and to remind me to stay true to my love of potato water.  But really you don't care about that do you?  You care about the adventures of last night.  Well first of all - I did buy new jeans - yes I gave in.  Second I came with food in hand - seriously - why not?  And third, I made sure that I had my A game flirt on with everyone but OM after I had successfully hooked him or so I thought.  The run down of the evening - I arrived shortly after the start, received a hug (slightly awkward but nice) and then proceed to get my chat on with everyone I could - thanks to my lust for the evening, tequila, all went relatively okay until the end.  In the end I received a lingering hug and then well that was it - um awkward - as well is expected - let's be honest here folks - we've declared our hands and picked them back up again. We know each other's cards, they aren't going to change between now and whenever in a general sense (yes they could...) and now we hold them and smile at each other and try and proceed like we don't know what the other is thinking, planning or even bluffing around.  Or so you'd think right?  Wrong.  After my lingering hug, another of the departing females got the same hug, intention could be different, but, but, but - what the hell - OM trumped all the flirting I had done in one single action, one single remember who holds the higher cards here action.  I left feeling okay - thanks tequila, and awoke this morning feeling defeated.

Sure I will say that I met and subsequently FB'd lots of wonderful people, and had a wonderful time, however, in the end I don't know how I feel about the wait and the chase.  You can talk backbone and all that, but when you have to sit and wait and wonder if that email is going to come, or if he is going to call or text or something, that's when those doubts start to natter and it all just goes grey, and not Grey Goose kind of grey.  

Photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/picturejockey/297137654/

Oh S___! Should Not Be Yelled By Me at 8am on a Saturday

Maybe on a Monday, because well I should be at work and thus it would be a natural reaction.  No instead it was a reaction to an email I received from OM. And it was followed by panic and an adrenaline reaction that has yet to cease unfortunately.  See OM is expecting me tonight at his large gathering.   Um, ya wasn't planning on it because well today is my not married anniversary, it's also the day after a new haircut, (always a bad hair day) and for the love of all the Sbucks in the world, what the hell am I going to wear!  I have no wingperson to be found, everyone rightfully so can't or wont' come and what am I going to wear!  I am right now trying to talk myself down as Aussie roommate showers, she's unsure she wants to enter into the panic zone, and I don't blame her.  We've decided that a new pair of dark, dark jeans, possibly skinny could work - GAP has a pair and Levi's might too... unsure about that.  The top is 1/2 decided, a black ruffle coat, so do we go with something from the closet - white top or what... I need a coffee, a clonazapam or two and help.  For the love, I can't do this short notice, it doesn't work like this, preparation, mental planning, witty jokes, lots of sleep, a little Botox, maybe a shot of faux tanner and a shot of kutzpah, backbone and whatever else I seem to be sweating out right now... Gulp... off  I go, I need to be home by 3 ideally, it will give me enough time to force myself to zen or nap, and then we'll be off to the fun... um help...

Time to Party

I will say that this is likely tacky, irreverent and even cold for some of you to read. I am raising a martini or two this weekend in the celebration of me not getting married. As of 1pm April 18, 2009 I would have been hitched, hitched on a wagon to a life of well we aren't going to think about that. That person who said yes last year does not reside in this body. I am aware that sounds like I was possessed, and some days it sure as heck feels like it looking back, but it wasn't that dramatic. I instead did what many other before and after me did/will do, marry because you need to be married, not because you want to spend your life with that person. No rather you NEED to be married and well this person seems good enough to shove into that void. You never make that conscious decision, but somehow they hit your radar hard enough to stick and then before you know it that list of things you really want, desire, and in some other respect need gets thrown out the window, you bend your life, alter friendships and you even ditch in some way or another all those life lines you have known as friends. Somewhere in August my want got a hold of my need and cold cocked it. It was out just long enough for me to make some no turning back decisions. Thank goodness for that and the support of amazing women like J, or maybe mostly J who made sure that my want was strong. My want for freedom, my want for love, passion and all that, my want for peace with myself and myself only. The kind of freedom that makes you fall in like with yourself rather than in loathe and fear.

So whether you were there along the journey, have had your own similar journey or you just love a good martini - raise your glass. Here's to wants, loves, losses and the knowledge that nothing is to big, bad or ugly - you can get through it all.

Apparently Hell Has no Fury...

I was quickly placated by a nice email about the tickets, goodness, I think I'm too far in, I am forgiving this infraction. Anyways that being said I had a serious moment of doubt, so much so I was thinking about calling everything off. Why, well age is an issue for me, and N encouraged me to figure out what this mystery separation was, and if it happened to be under my 15 year cut off.

Why 15 years? Well I had my Mr. Big a number of years ago at which time I was 23 and he was 38. It was a weird match-up for so many reasons and it was never going to work, he was not looking for kids or marriage. In the process though I realized the appeal in being with someone older. That being said, there were times I felt like I wasn't able to keep up, all the degrees in the world, won't fill the void when your significant other says something time-stamped, or you have that first encounter where you're more or less called an immature ___ by his much older sister who believes that hiking boots are suitable city footwear and hasn't been introduced to Botox, anti-aging creams or even makeup...

So fast forward to this moment in time, OM is older, the kind of older that made me wince, like I was at the oldest 10 when he graduated from university... Sure he's got everything on paper that works, and as I cracked to N, hey at least I'm fertile... is that what it comes down to? He can't date his peers if he wants children, and I can't date my peers if I want a man who is socially trained and educated. What have we done? Are we at the point where we (women) can only set our sights on, perpetual daters (commitment issue types) or divorced men, those who had married their high school sweetheart, and now somehow have decided in their later years they want a newer model, who with fresh womb and education, are a more Darwinian appropriate match. And our male peers have found themselves in the clutches of "Cougars," women who seem to encourage everything we find repulsive about our male peers. What, why, and what am I to do?

Hell Hath No Fury like a Woman Denied Playoff Tickets

Okay so I'm a rabid hockey fan, maybe because I've played and watched it for most of my life, maybe because that's the Canadian thing to do, maybe because I've always wanted to be a puck-bunny deep down inside but was never willing to well do the things they do... all that being said, I am currently acting as score texter, sin bin translator to my Aussie roommate and enjoying the palpable excitement around town, until it was brought to my attention, someone who shall remain nameless passed me over for tickets to one of the games. This is a capital offence, these were tickets that I would have most definitely baked for, cleaned for and maybe exchanged some other services, and no I am not referencing any puck bunny esque service. I love me my hockey, but not that much... So I am going to eat some chocolate and calm myself down with the accounts and listening to this... no comments, just because I'm in charge of the accounts doesn't mean anything


Love Sex Magic - Ciara featuring Justin Timberlake

I Think I'll be Living in the Gym for the Next 17 days

So time for some honesty - I did have to count those days for this blog, but now that I have eek, I should not, will not, cannot sweat this pseudo platonic meeting (it's a non-date that at this point might as well be one, I mean really folks). So that being said, I think I will be doing some serious sweating though... see here's the issue. OM hasn't really seen me face to face or more accurately body to body, though that sounds rather risque, in a year. Yep, maybe the slow burning crushes are better, there's a whole lot more fuel to, well let's leave that train of thought. Anyways, I have to admit, I'm not the same size I was last year. Well maybe I should clarify I am the same size, I'm just a little soft in spots. I personally don't really care, because I know why I'm soft. Quite simply I filled the big open sore in my life with ice cream and Burger King hamburgers (the baby ones) until it started to close up on it's own. Yes there was cheese, dairy and alcohol thrown in there too for sure. But looking back I have to say in the end from everything I went through I managed to ditch the more than 10 pounds of emotional and psychological baggage in my life and traded it for 10 pounds. I think I got the better end of the deal... sure I could have hoped to not have gained it in the first place, but you know what, in the gaining I also gained something else, the ability to say I like me. Sure I like me when I'm firmer, we all like ourselves with more muscle and less muffin, but hey, it is what it is. So that being said, I'm conscious like J and every other single gal out there that our male cohorts want something that looks and acts in private like Jenna Jamieson and yet is packaged like Michelle Obama - intelligent, clean and classy. I think it's a load of whatever, and yet, and yet I can't help but when I look at myself in the mirror now hear Leaha's words about my reduced JLo and see that well that things ain't what they used to be...

So back to the original train of thought, do I think OM is going to notice what is now about 5 more to go, nope I doubt it, and since there was never any poking going on before, tone isn't going to be noticed, but just like we all need a pair of sexy shoes, sometimes even more we need to feel hot, whether that's a size 14, 2 or a Banana Republic 6/8 (call it whatever size you want)...

Photo

Help, I'm losing my kutzpah by the moment

While the last blog demonstrated my attempt at cool calm and collected, I feel like the patience I know that is within me is dissipating at an alarming rate. There has been the set up of a formal, informal platonic meeting, and I refuse to complain about that situation. Every time I hear a naysayer - a well really? You think that's what he really feels? I have to remind myself that no one other than the said individual knows and beyond how I feel, which is excited and slightly obsessive in that I have a crush kind, we leave it at that. It is hard, though as in the back of my brain I'm battling my own insecurities about myself, about this last year - full of separation, breakup, engagement endings and all sorts of other issues, that despite my belief and knowledge that I'm on the road to emotional and mental wholeness, that slipping back could happen and that I have, really have to trust myself. In two or however many weeks I need walk into a situation and trust my intuition entirely, trust my emotions entirely and act with a self assured belief that I do only what I believe, what I feel and what I feel comfortable with, and that is all that matters. Easier said than done.

The Email Dance

So my darling readers, the letter below was sent in it's modified version as you know, I've received a letter back and of course in return sent one and now we wait. I could be ridiculously happy that I'm away from my Crackberry, but really I'm not. An appendage of my existence has ceased to exist and so I fill my weekend with vodka, naps and baking. Sounds a little bizarre but it works fabulously J's family has pseudo-ly adopted me as my nuclear family has ceased to exist in any normal form for months. So why not get due south, surround your biological clock ticking soul with little children and raise a few glasses of a lemonade spiked beverage and some Bailey's to having a good long weekend... Happy Easter all and here's to hoping I might get to spend a holiday with someone else.

This Is Why Kids You Do Not Check Your Emails at Work

And it has nothing to do with spam, attachments, or socially inappropriate language. It has everything to do with finding yourself two lines into an email you've been waiting eagerly for, and having to turning away for fear that you might just hyperventilate. Honestly I'm trying not to think about it - so apparently we need to patent the previously typed letter (in it's edited form) and find out where I found the kutzpah to send it unalcoholed... so... mumblemumble... we'll return to our regular blogging when S&P finds her brain and lowers her bp... see you after the weekend - thank goodness for J and her family.

It is so wrong that I want to play Celine right now and sing along? Right? I'm wrong? It's all wrong! This is all kinds of wrong too...