Thursday, November 09, 2006

The real America is back and blow jobs do make the pain go away

Quote of the day:

RS: Do you think giving him a blow job will make his teeth hurt less?

Me: Yes, BJs make everything better. But it will make your jaw hurt more...

So yesterday was a good day:

  • 20 new Pro-Choice reps in the House
  • South Dakota voted DOWN the abortion ban
  • It seems that Montana and Vahginnnnia are both going to the dems
  • A first time ever woman Speaker O' the House

Perhaps choice will safely be our right after all, and the christian right is not nearly as powerful as we thought. I worry that this will just rally them, which will suck. But I digress...

That's as much about politics I have said in years, and that will be the last I write for awhile. I fuckin hate politics.

I am back to having N as a friend on MySpace. We still need to talk. The single dad on MySpace seems like a decent prospect. And if I ever get off my ass and get up to NYC, I have a very cute, sorta young but now dear friend to visit. Things are looking promising. I have choices. Its like a smorgasbord.

This week has been about finding a new job and exercise. Exercise I have been so-so on. The job? Looking forward to the interview on Monday. I hope this pans out.

RS is MIA this week. Sob! Hotness is a bit down in the dumps - seems that a decision is looming upon her and, having been there myself (shit, so have you RS and Homey) , I know this is overwhelming.

Monday, November 06, 2006

Five in forty-eight

Interactions with the last 5 men in my life in a mere 48 hour period. I'm exhausted.

Told Va Lawyer that I can only be friends. Period. That's it. I need to be clear. No, I don't want to fool around.No that doesn't mean we can make out for fun just because you think I am hot and we used to be good in the sack 11 years ago. You also used to be a good, um, 60 pounds lighter dude. Nope nope nope. And I also remembered that I broke up b/c you were dirty, and not that dirty that I enjoy in bed thing. Just dirty. Around the house dirty. Pizza boxes everywhere dirty. Dirty dishes from an entire week in the sink dirty. Dirt under your fingernails dirty.

The most important thing: Hottie got brave (real brave) and admitted that he had been reading the blog. I still could be crazy, but its not evidenced through me imagining him reading the old public blog.

Now, granted, he admitted this to me at my house at 4am Sat/Sun.
After he called me at 3. (That's brave. He didn't know where I was...I could have been hittin it with someone else...)
(After I tentatively answered, knowing I will look like a total putz in front of everyone answering what to them looked like a booty call. I did it anyway. Funny how much clarity you can get in those moments. Time slowed down, just for a few seconds, while I thought it through. And slowly, I took the phone out of the pocket...)

I need to digress here.

I was really glad he called. Really glad. I think you guys know that. I was waiting for him to do something sort of risky and out there. But I digress - so back to our regularly scheduled program:

After picking me up in Five Points at a late night right after that call.
After said exit from that house seemed to piss N off so much so that he dropped me from MySpace as a friend. Good thing I didn't book Barcelona.

I made the right choice on that one. No doubt about it. Even if I lost N's friendship, Hottie took priority. That was an easy call. And I needed that closure from him.

And Sunday morning I got to hit it again and well, you know we're real, real good in that area.

WHO KNOWS what is next. I am not counting on anything, and going to continue with my current course of singledom. I would like to think he'll get some therapy, and coupled with my shaking off the depression and gained weight, we might just could get back on track. But until I hear something affirmative from him, I cannot count on that. So...maybe eHarmony? Maybe just hanging out with people? Maybe therapy will make him feel a bit better? It's worked wonders for me...

Ran into ex fiancee again on Sat. night. He texted me and said that RS's ex hubby keeps bugging him to hang out. So RS, they were very alike!!! Again, felt nothing seeing him.

Oh that's only 4. Well, for yucks I included my usual calls with the ex hubby. So there's my 5 in 48.

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Dramarama

Hello San Diego, this is Veronica Corningstone, reporting on the after-effects of Dramarama week.

We've had a fun filled birthday night with me chasing down HmcH and ultimately, not finding him as he slept elsewhere.

Along for the ride were Hotness and her BF, who were supposed to be "off" but were actually "on".

Rock Star elected not to attend the party, releasing a statement through her publicist that she had grocery shopping to do. Sources close to her cite the actual reason had to do with JG showing up in town unexpectedly after months of silence. Had RS attended, she would have had the comfort of seeing Hotness confront him after 3 glasses of wine, and then subsequently blow him off for the rest of the night.

And if that wasn't enough folks, we had Homey fly in for the extended weekend that night. And she spent the whole next day pissing razor blades. This did not stop her from being at her best on Saturday.

Which brings me to our lead story.

Hourglass Court was the site of a blow out party Saturday night. Walking the red carpet were the usual A list stars: Hotness, RSS, RS and Homey. Appearances put in by Vegas, the BF, the husband, and K. The night began with a classy cocktail party, all the stars were dressed to the nines. The party was quickly invaded by some bizarre NorthFace tribe...all LL Bean and corporate logo'ed out. Smelling of chimea smoke and NC BBQ, they looked and smelled a bit underdressed. But boy did they provide some entertainment. What an amazing group of people. RS CAN throw a PARTAY!

Looking Glass knew what they were doing when they wrote that song. I don't think she was walking around with a necklace of the finest silver from the north of spain, nor am I convinced what a good wife she would be, but damn she IS a Fine Girl.

My report continues after these messages...Tits McGee signing off for now.

Sunday, October 15, 2006

He puts the cheval in chevalier

Packed weekend.

RS I loved the post. Loved the story about the party. Gotta know who xxx is.

Friday, dinner at Jibarra. Time at the Rockford with N and his friends (also friends of mine.) Late night at the Dirty. People watching. People watching me. Too fun. Big mouthed troll was no where to be seen.

Saturday - therapy and the NC State Fair. Cows, rides, people who ride the short bus, gross fattening food but fun.

Sunday - the wedding of M from work. As good a time as I could have 1> without a date and 2> at that particular wedding. I have to say I found it particularly hard to sit through the ceremony. Hard not to think about him. Hard not to miss him.

Here's my tally for man activity:

  • Three emails on late Friday from the 29 year old from Manhattan (who I met at Disney)
  • Two phone calls from the drummer in LA.
  • Dinner and one long good night kiss from N. the ex
  • 7 texts from N. the ex
  • 1 phone call from N tonite
  • 1 long phone message and 1 MySpace message from the Virginia Lawyer ex.
  • 1 promise of a date sometime in the next few weeks (when I am not booked) from a certain eye surgeon who saw my picture on Friday. I am now ready for this date.
  • 1 flirtatious cigarette smoking session with M's 75 year old Uncle at the wedding today
  • 1 caterwaul at me and a "hey cutie" from several male NC state students leaving Carter Finley after the Sat. game (while I was driving to park at the fair). Obviously they had no clue how old, wrinkly, and generally insecure I am
  • 1 scathing reply from me to the 51 year old stalker on MySpace: I said: "You are too old. I don't get involved with men who are closer in age to my father than to me. "

Still have not returned the last two phone calls from HmcH. Every day gets easier. Please keep me busy girls. Even talking to you guys helps me through this.

My therapist says the silence from me is the right thing to do. She had a lot to say this weekend. First, she was proud of my progress. Second, she did say that his poo-pooing of any therapists who are not PhDs was a classic example of his need for "power." She said the fact that not only new men but men from my past who know me well and that are still intersted in me was testament to me being "okay" "fun" "secure" "attractive" "confident" and basically the opposite of all the ways that HmcH was putting me down. She said the smoking comment was quite ridiculous, and un-needed. Just a way for him to put me down and try and create yet another insecurity where there previous wasn't one. Even if he thought it, he shouldn't have said it. We had a good session, and she says she sees me turning the corner even though its going to hurt for a long time.

One bit of bad news. The babysitter cancelled for Sat. Am on the hunt for another...keep your fingers crossed.

Friday, October 13, 2006

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Flaaaahhhhhrida

Very busy. Sneaking a quick moment thanks to the wireless here on the show floor to update. Some observations:

  • The conference is very IT. By that I mean it is full of geeky men, overweight men, men who are engineers, lots of male dorkiness. I got asked outright 5 times yesterday if I was a booth babe. While flattered initially, as most of the booth babes are early 20's, it did not go over well as the night wore on. And does that line work? I mean, really, does this help them build rapport with women. Gotta love the IT industry.
  • The resort is growing on me. Seems to be full of lizards. I run every morning and I've seen like 30.
  • Florida is teeming with white trash. But the weather is astoundingly good. Life has tradeoffs.
  • Disney really is the land of the too well fed, and the resort is doing nothing to help this. (The plethora of desserts at the little store near my room is frightening. There are these chocolate cupcakes with frosting 3 inches thick.) Some of these people, many of these people need to just stop eating. For months. For many months. And walk faster than 2 miles an hour. And cover up - geez louise I don't want to see one more 160 pound woman all jiggly and cottage cheezy in a string bikini. And you european men, while you may be slimmer, you have no business wearing speedos. Nobody wants to see your junk all hangin about. (I think there may be some truth to that "euro guys are smaller" rumour I've caught wind of several times in the past few years. They might have nice accents but they are often lacking down there.)

Gotta run. Miss you guys. Would be more fun if you were here. MNF at the ESPN bar was a good time last night! ; )

Sunday, October 08, 2006

Ha Ha Ha Bless Your Soul...

You really think you're in control.

First let me say that I don't think the horoscope was right about meeting someone on or around Oct. 7.

Otherwise, a very good weekend. The Lake was awesome. Got to reconnect with an old, old friend. Great wine (amazing Pinots from Oregon) , catching up.

Last night - the babysitter was a hit! Finally found somebody who I think will work out great. And I found a lawn guy too. Things are looking good. My bank account will suffer but I'll have more free time.

So RS you missed a night on the town. I hope you and Agador Spartacus are actually spending some time OUTSIDE of the Four Seasons. Toronto is incredible.

I'll summarize what you missed:



  • Girls part of the evening at Red Room - four of us, tapas, red bull and vodka
  • Hotness' bf joined us out to barhop at some point later
  • Spent some time at the Dirty and, coincidentally, saw the Big-mouthed Troll, out with a posse of one thick girl and one dorky guy. Worried that HMcH would actually walk in to join them, but this did not happen. The Troll was wearing a leather coat(WW II bomber style...shit, remember those? It was so unattractively retro I had to look twice) and jeans and some shirt from the Gap...she dressed very 1987-1988, a la that style of girls not looking like girls and everything was bigger/bulkier. We all felt bad for her for about 3 seconds for her fashion lapse in judgment (a lot of skin showing last night at every bar, in spite of the weather) til we remembered what a pain in the ass she is and we got back to actually watching hot people.

Side note. The Big Mouthed Troll could really use Garanimals for Adults - otherwise known as Banana Republic. They should come up with tags that correspond to different clothing scenarios for the fashion impaired (who all seem to work at our company): Match the Zebra tags for outfits to wear when going to a dance club. Lion is for weddings and church. Cheetah is everyday corporate. Black panther tags for ad agency. Capybara gets you set for Saturday football game, Friday night hockey game, brewpub or Sunday brunch. All their overpriced belts and accessories could be tagged as well. I swear this would help America look better overall. This and if most people stopped eating for several months. But I digress...

  • Got to send a very cute, tall 28-year old Air Force pilot (C-17s, the big planes) with a nice ass packing just because I could...and that was after I told him I spend my spare time as a porn star. I had fun with this! I do have to give him kudos for the joke about the solo mile high club...but he's 28. Ugh. A minefield of issues just with his age alone. Plus, as I watched and listened to him, I just wasn't into it. I should have been. He had it all going on -wit, confidence, intelligence, well-traveled, nice face -there was no excuse I could make about him. But, again, I wasn't into it at all just because he wasn't somebody else. 'Nuff said. His opening line when he came up to me? "Nice Boots." What did I hear, as we all know I am as deaf as an Aerosmith roadie? Yeah...think about that for a sec. I had to ask him to repeat that three times to make sure that was indeed a 't' he was enunciating.

Oh, and I like leaving a bar together with G and Hotness and hearing people say as you walk by please DON'T go.

We have next weekend to revisit anything we did last night, should you and Agador want to venture beyond the bedroom. I know its tough. I remember those days. I could have stayed in bed for months (should have - wish I had done more of that than I did) so enjoy this time!

And we are game on for your party - the babysitter is booked.

Off to sunny Flaaaahhhhrida.

Friday, October 06, 2006

RS, your dog...

farts in bed!

I thought you'd get it good laugh over that today, up there in the great white north, no doubt bedding to your heart's delight. I think she misses you but C seems to be an excellent substitute.

Ohhhh Canada...?

Thursday, October 05, 2006

What to do, what to do

Two months to go til our birthday (mine and RS) and we're racking our brains about what to do. We've discussed renting an art gallery for a party, renting a local indie/artsy theatre for a party, or throwing another shinding at mi casa that will be a combination b-day/holiday party.

I think we're leaning towards the house, as we can take money we would have paid to those venues and pour it into buying liquor for our friends and better food. 8 weeks to get his done...I suppose we'll make the decision in the next week or so.

We know we definitely DO NOT want to repeat the shenanigans from last year at PG.

I've kept busy this week, and am doing so much better! Went to a cocktail party (mid-week!) last night at a friend of a friends house for a couple of hours. It was a nice diversion on a Wednesday but I have no stories from it. The best thing about it was that it happened, and I had somewhere to be for a few hours. Amazing how just simply being invited to things and being busy can cure the blues.

I have something to do every day this week except for tonite. Tonite I will catch up on Netflix (I have had one particular movie for over a month now. Someone, somewhere is desperately waiting for "Born in Brothels" whilst it sits on my counter...)

I leave for FLA on Sunday, which is my next adventure to look forward to. Granted, it is work and a huge conference/event I have to work, but I have never NOT had fun at Disney World. Hoping there will be some fun stories there.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

I got no big ideas today, so I'll number the small ones

First - shout out to RS's friend Homey. Thanks for asking about me - looking forward to meeting you at the party in a couple of weeks - and things will get better!

Second - work seems strangely better, if only because I am so busy. This is really good.

Third - Hottie stopped by ever so briefly yesterday in the office and looked ever sooooo good. Very difficult for me to see him, but glad he came by nonetheless. We had a bit of closure via email.

Fourth - This should give you a good laugh. Creepy, dorky, fiasco-from-Saturday Keith Richards turned Waldo guitar player found me via phone DESPITE me giving him that BOGUS number. I did not answer nor am I calling back. UGH!! Yeah unlisted phone numbers are looking good right now. He even said on the message, "I think you gave me the wrong number..." but yet, he called anyway and left a message? Who does that?

Fifth - My daughter has discovered football. Either there is a boy at school who is talking about it and one team in particular, or she's overheard too many conversations from me and/or actually starting paying attention to Sportscenter when its on. Last night went like this:

We're eating dinner. She says, "Can I use your computer? I need to google something."

So I'm like, "Homework?" And she says, "Nah the score of the eagles game last night."

What???! WTF?!

So I ask, "Monday Night Football?"

And she says, "Yeah. I want to make sure the eagles won."

Huh?

She checks it, tells me the score, and says, "I'm going to check on McNabb."

What??!!! I have never talked to her directly about McNabb. She must have overheard me. Or, she's got a friend into McNabb. I didn't know she knew his name! Sure enough, when I look at the screen, she's on his stats page.

I still don't know what's behind it. But I do know that I then showed her NFL.com and she proceeded, with delight, to play some game on the Eagle's page that had to do with an Eagles Cheerleader...whatever. I'm totally confused. I don't get it. But it's really funny.

I realize, with some finality, that my daughter lives in a world that I'll now only get sneak peaks into or worse yet, I have to start guessing at what's going on.

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

Walk over that bridge!

Susan Miller (http://astrologyzone.com/) does have alot to say this month:

I was thinking about your chart this morning, dear Sagittarius, and saying to myself, "I hope Sagittarius doesn't feel responsible for all the changes that are currently taking place. It's just the way it is. It was time to move on." There is a possibility that you might be spending needless energy second-guessing yourself about whether you took the right course of action. You did.
Endeavors and relationships often have a life of their own, and when they are over, they are over. Try as we may to extend a situation or relationship, once an eclipse proves that its glory days have come and gone, it becomes impossible to extend or go back to reverse a decision. Indeed, once you walk over the bridge to the other side, you will not be able to return to your old life again. When we are a little jittery about the new life we are entering, we are tempted to run back to what we know, but as soon as we make a move to do that, we see that the bridge has disappeared and that won't be possible. You would never want to go back.


The good news is:

One of your most romantic parts of the month will be near the full moon, October 7. You may meet someone new and quite independent, but will find that this person's aloof stance will draw you to him or her all the more powerfully. This person seems to be self-made and could even be several years older than you, and may have a background quite different from yours. Still, despite these differences, the sexy chemistry you share will be obvious to you as well as to those around you.

Hmm...something to think about. I usually don't put too much faith in this crap, but her detailed horoscope last month was so incredibly, scarily spot-on that its got me slightly interested.

Busy day today - and most of this week.

Monday, October 02, 2006

These are the last tears I am gonna cry for you.

So - RS/GP you were there for one good part of the weekend. Friday night at the Duck and watching the bands.

And my marathon session with the therapist on Saturday - wonderful. Who knew that this would be so good for me?

But no one was around for my Saturday night latenight debaucle - including our Gnome friend (he was in the corner of Slim's drinking Jager shots and laughing at me instead of doing his job) and UGH it was so bad.

The Bachelorette Party overall was fun. That part I won't even write about. Nana's, White Collar, Ess. The wine guy from 518 was interesting. But...

Let's just say that guys who act like 16 year old dorks around you is not any kind of a turn on. Especially guys that are usually putting themselves out there as a bad ass, guitar playing, rock star wannabe. You think you are getting Keith Richards and you get Waldo. OMG that part of Saturday night was so bad. So bad. I can't even write about it.

Sunday turned out better. Surprisingly better. Until two particular songs from the Girls played. GP - you know I almost lost it at this point.

Laying there on the blanket with four co-workers, looking at the stars, thinking wow I waited around all day for this part of the concert and they are singing songs none of us know. We digress into the conversation about overhearing snippets of conversation ("I know this but now its too late" and "It was a suicide beaver...") and we decide to form a band called Suicide Beaver just because it sounds so cool and who the fuck cares that we don't have enough talent to play instruments or sing in front of people?! And then this line pulls me out from the fun and slaps me in the face:

Adding up the total of a love thats true
Multiply life by the power of two

I laid there thinking that's what he meant to me. Life, with the two of us together, was going to be better than just me. And it was. But apparently not for him to keep trying. And now here we are.

And there I was on that blanket, and GP you knew I was having trouble. I think everyone else did too. And then the next song was worse:

These are the last tears I'm gonna cry for you
My cryin's through I'm moving on
I don't regret and won't forget
A single thing that we went through
But there are the last tears I'm gonna cry for you
You take things so much easier than I do
And you could live your life without me if you had to
And you believe that in the end it all works out right
And I might if not for you
And if you ask one which one lives just alone for love
I do
There was a time when all signs pointed to the warm south
The planets all lined up and built a new house
And everything we talked about felt like a prophecy
And when you looked at me they all came true
And if you asked which one wants to go the distance
I do
I'm gonna rack my mind one last time until I cannot think
I'm gonna dip into your memory and take a good stiff drink
And when I'm drunk on the last drop of sadness about how we went wrong
I'm gonna play this song
Make some coffee black and strong
Give thanks for healing time
And finally make up my mind

The tears were coming. But instead, you guys all knew I was going to lose it and started telling me jokes about genies in bottles and frogs who give blow jobs and you let me tell my complimentary peanuts joke for the 15 millionth time and we all laughed.

And then "Closer I am to Fine" came on and I was.

Today is not better. But I'm getting closer.

Friday, September 29, 2006

FWB

I left something out yesterday when I posted.

I forgot to say that I fell off the wagon, did something really really really dumb, whatever you want to call it and had a session with you know who earlier this week. Shit, it had been awhile!

It was nice 8 times over for me, literally 8 times over. Wink wink. Actually much more than nice (intense, wonderful, amazing, tender, hot, better than ever, wondrous, really just the best ever with some amazing kissing included but as such, confusing as hell to me) but I could have used the Gnome around to prevent it.

So there you go. We'll see if the Gnome is around tonite. Doubt it.

Fun!

Gal Pal, Rock Star: I gotta thank you guys for the flowers and champagne and Thursday night party. You are the best. Truly the best!

RS-I love the idea of San Diego/LA and Mexico with Homey in November. Find out if the plan is doable. Is California going to spontaneously combust if all three of us are in one place together, finally? I cannot imagine what going to happen - we've been talking about this for months. I feel like I will be hanging out with my twin and my stunt double at the same time.

I was a bit hungover today. All that wine. Nothing I can't power through. We have more to do tonite!

PS: D is absolutely delightful!

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Not doing any better...

in terms of forgetting or getting over him. I make it through another day and think its going to be easier and its really not.

I am doing better in terms of me. I feel better about me. I'm pissed as hell at him, and still a bit mad at myself for not being stronger. But I feel good overall about who I am.

I worry a bit about him - I guess I can step outside of my anger enough to be concerned.

My friends have been great. My family? Not so much.

Watching Bridget Jones' Diary was torture.

Why is when you are no longer part of a couple you see couples EVERYWHERE and they all seem so shiny and happy? They are all skipping around together, going to dinner, getting engaged. I must have seen twenty couples at Harris Teeter. Reminding me at every turn how alone I suddenly am. That and that everyone is getting laid but me. (Need to remedy that fast.)

And those EHarmony commercials! Ugh! E Harmony - how dorky chubby people hook up.

Monday, September 25, 2006

High Heels, Luz Casal and Un año de amor

Lo nuestro se acabó y te arrepentiras
De haberle puesto fin a un año de amor.

Si ahora tu te vas pronto descubriras
Que los dias son eternos y vacios sin mi.

Y de noche , y de noche por no sentirte solo,
Recordaras nuestros dias felices,
Recordaras el sabor de mis besos.
Y entenderas en un sólo momento
Que significa un año de amor.
Que significa un año de amor.

Te has parado a pensar lo que sucedera
Todo lo que perdemos y lo que sufriras.

Si ahora tu te vas no recuperaraslos momentos felices que te hice vivir.

Y de noche , y de noche por no sentirte solo,
Recordaras nuestros dias felices,Recordaras el sabor de mis besos.
Y entenderas en un sólo momento
Que significa un año de amor.
Y entenderas en un sólo momento
Que significa un año de amor.

Words for today from a friend

I saw in your eyes a sadness and charcoal-gray doubt, and I saw you didn’t need a lecture. Any friend would have seen that from a thousand, foggy yards. You needed to be told the truth—that you are so wise, so beautiful, so unique and wondrous....

Wish I could write like that.

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Ugh

Bad day. Missing him. The idea of him. What I wanted him to be. What I wanted to be.

Regardless. It's Sunday. I miss him. Bad day. Really bad day.

I'm getting to the point where I do want a pint of ice cream - and Goodberry's flavor today just happens to be sweet cream...

Nope - the jeans are fitting well. I'm feeling better about myself as a result. Frozen custard WOULD NOT be a good idea.

Still miss him. WTF! Damnit! At least when I am angry its easier. Easier to get over him. Easier to be mad and not wonder what he's doing. Not wonder if he's thinking of me.

Friday. One year. That stupid parking lot. Dancing. Drinking. "I want to marry my best friend." How cute he was. How smart he was. How confident we both were back then. Ugh.

So much easier to be angry. I'll go back to angry, and this will be easier to get through.

Saturday, September 23, 2006

Still very sad now working towards pretty angry...

at myself. But making progress.

Signed up for therapy (just for me). Initial session over the phone was refreshing. I feel better about myself already.

Learned a lot about control...and power in a relationship. Realized that no matter what I've said in the past few months it was his M.O. to criticize or pick it apart for its hidden meaning. (A la the toilet paper conversation was about not believing in him...) I could not have won in that situation - there was nothing, nothing I was going to say or do that was going to be right. And the harder I tried, the worse it got. Learned behaviour over time. And instead of getting mad, or standing up for myself, I just got more pathetic, and unhappy, and repressed, and scared to lose him.

So now I am mad at myself for this.

I have talked about it with friends. And the advice from two guy friends was particularly enlightening: "Oh he did the whole power thing on you b/c he was either scared of commitment or not that into you..." I didn't know what was meant by this - so there was elaboration needed on "the power thing":

He's not happy - with himself or you or both and/or he feels pressured.
He picks at you. He criticizes. In small ways at first, so you don't pick up on it. You roll with it.
It is his way of keeping power, especially in the face of commitment.
This begins to work on your self esteem.
He picks and criticizes more. The more you try, the worse it becomes.
Neither of you is patient.
Your self esteem is now in the dumps.
You're both bickering and needling each other. It becomes constant.
You as a gf (and the relationship in general) have become no fun - so he breaks up with you.

Both guys admitting to doing this in several relationships. They said it made it easier to break away - they used it when they were commitment phobes in their 20s and not so comfortable in their own skin (their words not mine). They admitted that didn't even realizing they were doing til later - years later - when they could look back on it.

Both my friends said: does this sound at all familiar? Have we hit on some of it? Is he 28?

Indeed. Except for that last part on age.

And honestly - this knowledge did two things:

  1. Made me feel better. I didn't really understand how I had gone from a fairly self confident girl (granted - a small chip on my shoulder from the fiancee cheating on me bit last spring) a year ago this week to a scared, hen pecking, low self-esteem ninny he sees now. No wonder it didn't work out. I didn't like who I was, and I didn't have the balls anymore to tell him I didn't like who he was either. I was picking back at him constantly b/c I knew no other way.
  2. Made me angry. At myself. How could I let this happen? Why didn't I stand up sooner? Why was I so blind? Why, in the spirit of being so in love with him, of feeling so lucky to have him in my life, did I evolve into this person I don't recognize? This is a good anger. A cleansing anger. Anger at myself. A feeling that seems to be giving me strength to get back to me. ME.

Being out last night - and where were you Bad Idea Gnome cuz I could have used you?!-made me realize who I am. Really who I am. I was me again. I am not that girl I was with him. People like to talk to me, and listen, and they don't interrupt to criticize or tell me how I could word it better. (And these aren't all shiny new people. Some of these people I have known for 12 years. ) People like how I dance - and I like dancing again. I'm not Madonna or Christina but I am still pretty good at it whether I go fast or half time. I wasn't self- conscious. I was happy and confident and I looked great. I am a good mother, a really good mother, who is trying her damndest and, for the most part, succeeding - and my conversations last night among fairly self-actualized adults reflected this and reflected back their belief in me. In some cases I was the hottest girl in the bar and in some cases I wasn't even close and I did not care either way. And the people talking to me didn't care. And they didn't stare at other people. They looked around, but the focus was on our group. Or whoever was talking. Or, from time to time, me. And that felt really good.

I had fun.

There was a time, a while ago, when I did have fun with him. I remember it. And the fun was the best fun I have ever had. Maybe ever will. He had amazing lust for life. But over time, there's been no fun. There's been alot of criticism. And being out with him, those words of criticism would stay in my head. And I wasn't even close to being the best I could be.

I felt good about myself and the people I spent time with last night made me feel even better about me. They were confident enough in themselves that they didn't need to tear me down.

I had forgotten all of this.


So more news:

There is a huge party in London for my friend N's birthday. N is the girl who got married in Vegas. The huge party is a reunion of everyone from the wedding/hen and stag night parties in Vegas (over a year ago - wow) , and I've been offered a place to stay in a swanky hotel and the promise of much fun from Yorkshire Hottie. Remember him. ("Hellllo gorgeous! I am ringing you on your mobile whilst waiting to leave for Prague...") Check the archives. Wow did he and N come through in a big way yesterday. This made my day.

And...three guy friends from here are going to London and Barcelona for two weeks in November - the week before and the week of Thanksgiving - and the invitation was extended to me as well. As I was facing Thanksgiving alone this year, this seems like the right thing to do. Cannot swing two weeks, but can certainly do 8-9 days in Barcelona. There are worse places to be than Barcelona for Thanksgiving. So wow did my local friends come through too. I am lucky to know these people.

(God I dread the holidays. The pity party at work was bad enough this week..."So sorry. You must be devastated...blah blah blah" but the holidays are going to be simply dreadful. I digress.)

So which do I do ladies? I have to commit to tickets soon. I cannot do both...just not possible. Barcelona with the guy friends I think is the way to go.

Each hour that passes this gets easier. But there are moments. Like when I heard Five for Fighting's "100 years" last night on the way to a party - that song was my "daydream about the future" song, a song that I imagined I would dance with him to at our own wedding. I was almost in tears. Or the moment when I passed by the street I used to turn off to go to his house. And this coming Friday will be horrible - as it was going to be our one year anniversary had we made it.

But I'm stronger - just in talking to the therapist and spending time out with friends - and I'm going to be fine. Even walking around with a severely broken heart, I can be happy about me, and my life. Therapy is going to help - really, how can it hurt? Therapy is like jello, there's always room for it. My friends are keeping me busy and calling, and that helps more than I ever realized it would. I missed some of them, and am glad to have them back and am not too proud to lean on them a bit. Rock Star and Gal Pal have been sooooo good, as has G - who has kindly babysat me for the last 24 hours.

Friday, September 22, 2006

I've got years and years

Being dumped. Ahhh the joy of it.

There's the satisfaction of watching and re-watching "In Her Shoes. " A movie I thought was trite and disappointing 6 months ago has a weird sort of calming effect this week. Two viewings so far. I want to applaud when Toni Collete runs up those steps. I want to find my own patient, jewish, lawyer boyfriend.

There's the weird songs you spend your time jogging to. Somehow Safri Duo and Kaiser Chiefs are just too peppy, even for exercise. No, I roll with old school 70's. The decade of the break-up. Everyone sounded depressed. On my repeat button the last two days:

Fool (if you think its over) by Chris Rea

Yeaaaahhhh. It was a minor hit at best, but I've got it in my head and it doesn't make me cry:

A dying flame, you're free again
Who could love and do that to you
All dressed in black, he won't be coming back
Save your tears, you've got years and years

(Those words help a LOT. If you yourself are nursing a bad break-up, just listen to the first four lines a few times. It will get you out of bed. Seriously. It is like free, instant therapy.)

Miss teenage dream, such a tragic scene
He knocked your crown and ran away
First wound of pride and how you cried and cried
But save your tears you've got years and years

(It's not even about my pride. This just hurts.)

Have I resorted to Lifetime movies, pints of ice cream and time in hallmark stores?

Nope.

No binge eating. Lost 6 pounds with another 10 on the to-go list and 6 miles ran this week so far. The love handles are becoming non-existent. My jeans are baggy - yay! I can actually fit into a pair of pants that haven't been out of the house in 8 months!

Have a trip to Orlando planned - business - for five days that I need to be at fighting weight for. Less than three weeks to go.

Filling up my schedule with friends. "He won't be coming back." Need to tell myself that and move on. Miss him. Don't miss his impatience with me, or his constant criticism of how I go about things. Or the words I use. Or how I parent. But I do miss him, and will for a long, long time. Will work on me for awhile and see what happens.

Sunday, September 17, 2006

At least I can say you were a great lay

Before I sign off for awhile, here's the last word, for my friends and one reader in particular:

  • Hospital diva had her baby - a girl! Arrived late but healthy!
  • Hottie McHottie BF is finally gone for good...finally

RS - when your Dreamy McDreamy knows you are having a bad day, what does he do? He brings you flowers! Mine -knows I have walking pnemonia, been sick for a week - I ask him to help me...what does he do?

Crickets.

'Cuz that's just how he rolls.

Claims he has not been reading the blog. When asked about it, did not confirm or deny, but rather said I was crazy and called your hottie to say I was being paranoid about my blog. I never gave a shit whether he was reading it or not. But a guy who cared about me would not have dodged the question nor would he have turned it back on me. So here goes:

I never wrote things in here to get them across to you, it was supposed to be for me and for my friends. Writing therapy. But I realized in the last few weeks, thanks to comments by you and my site meter, that you were reading this regularly.

Own up to it man.

Own up to being insecure. Own up having serious anger issues. (Wanting to punch out somebody at Frankie's over the bumper boats? WOW. What an example you set...) Stop being a whiny little 12 year old boy who never got over being beat up on the bus or the fact that your parents divorced. It wasn't your fault. Your mom is not nearly as bad a person as you make her out to be, and your father is not the great parent you think he is. (Kid gets hit by a car and dad doesn't visit for six weeks....somehow you had forgotted about that issue.) It isn't ever going to be perfect. You aren't always going to have the hottest woman in the bar as your date. (Unless you win the lottery, lose some weight, you get hair transplants or you turn into Brad Pitt.) People aren't always going to like you. You don't know shit about parenting until you have a kid of your own or your helping raise one yourself -full time. Your way is not necessarily the best way. I don't give a flying fuck what my friends or family or anyone else on this blog thinks about you - I was still willing to give it a try.

You weren't. You've taught me over the past few months that you aren't here through thick and thin. You aren't around unless things are done according to your wants and needs specifically. I have no doubt that I'll never meet anyone like you. Still think you were the one for me. Yes, I doubted I was the one for you and you confirmed this today, telling me you didn't think I was.

I told my sister that sometimes I do things that push you away, and that I am very often unfair. She said, "Yeah I can see that. You can be a total bitch. The thing is, sometimes I would do that too but XXX (her husband) wouldn't let me push him away - he was strong enough to see through my bullshit and shenanigans and totally unfair behaviour. He called me on it and talked me out of it but didn't abandon me. He would stick around. Your BF isn't willing to do that. He's just not strong enough or he's just not that into you. Either way you are screwed."

And there you are. And that's what hurts. Were I more special to you, you would have worked harder at this. Been more patient.

So I'll meet someone nice. Eventually. Or perhaps next week. Don't know how or when but this too shall pass. So Hottie McHootie, he may not be a great lay like you, but he'll be nice. Sex I can teach. Everything else I fail at.

(That's what he says...)

Friday, September 15, 2006

Taking a hiatus...

tired of writing. Might emerge under a different username/topic.

Sunday, September 10, 2006

Damn.

RS - you WERE NOT kidding about Astrology Zone being dead on for me. You told me to go to this site a few days ago and I just remembered. Wow. And ugh. Check it out:


If you have been dating, you may be dismayed to learn that your date viewed your time together lately as a fun romance, but nothing more. Worse, you may suddenly be given the "we should date others" speech. This news is likely to arrive on September 3 in the form of a text message, IM, or email, but not in person, proving that this person apparently doesn't have the courage to face you. All things considered, you'll be better off alone!
(Yup September 3 was really bad. Actually it was Sept. 2, but what's 24 hours...and listening to Alice Deejay over and over has not helped me figure out whether I would be better off alone.)
If you have been dating someone in an established relationship or if you are married, near September 3 you may be just as dismayed to learn that you and your partner have come to view your relationship differently. When you hear what your partner has to say, you may not like what you hear. Oddly, it may be your rising status in your career that now throws your relationship into turmoil. This month the two of you will be challenged to get on the same page.
Hmmm. It was NOT rising status that's for sure. But...the thing about same page. Still not there.

How things turn out will ultimately depend on how willing you'll be to continue this union and to fix what's wrong. If you love your partner, you will want to do all that's necessary. If you don't, the extreme clashing of planets in September may just push you hard enough to throw in the towel. See how you feel - you'll know the course that is right for you.

I know which way I am leaning...
If your friends offer to play matchmaker this month, let them. They will help you by setting up as many introductions as you like, and they seem to know your type to a T. In that respect, single and unattached Sagittarius will do well.
Venus' entry into your fun sector on the month's very last day, September 30, to stay until October 24, is another sign life is looking up!

So by Sept. 30 - this hellish month will be over and things might just be looking up...


Best date nights: September 6, 23, 27, 28, and 30
Summary
A radical change in your home life is likely to rock your world this month.

Yup my world was rocked. Not in the way I enjoy, or in that "Janet, you rock my world" sort of way as said by Cliff in Singles.

Bad Idea Gnome



This is the Bad Idea Gnome.

He's supposed to pop up and say "bad idea" when things get out of control. He's not much of an inspiration as he's always got that keg with him.

But I digress.

Luckily, he was with me Friday night. He's been curiously absent from mine and RS' life over the past few months. We could have used him before the whole pass the mints game.

So had a great night out on Thursday. Dinner with a mommie friend. Out afterwards with RS and her friends at a new bar in N. Raleigh. And one last drink at Ollie's on the way home. Bad idea gnome didn't even have to chaperone RS and I whilst we were out on the town.

Friday was even better. Margaritas. Bumping in, unplanned, to an attentive ex boyfriend. (Always good. But fleeting. Like eating a sweet tart. Tastes great for about 5 seconds then its gone.) Bad idea gnome didn't need to get involved but he was lurking around the corner. Going to a crappy bar with one of my friends to see her friend Heather's band - dreading it a bit b/c I don't like the bar - but realizing when I got there that one of my guy friends was the guitarist in said band! Proceeded to dance the next 90 minutes away! Had a ball!

In between tried to cut the night short earlier that evening with a booty call to BF. I misinterpreted two calls he made to me late that night...thought perhaps he was missing me. (Silly rabbit. He wasn't. But I was certainly missing him.) Alas, he was having none of it. Did not want me to come over as he was too tired and needed alone time. I didn't sweat it. (At least not that night...I would be totally lying if I didn't admit that it is gnawing at me today. Sunday blues...)

Did have mostly a good day and night with BF yesterday - golf then fabulous dinner then drinks with friends at Federal. Suppose this is going to be a once a week sort of arrangement for awhile. Seems weird and I am definitely having trouble with it. Hard to feel like you are going backwards. But I've thought it through all day today and am coming to terms.

Good afternoon today. Bought my daughter golf clubs. Spent time at the driving range just letting her hit for awhile. She did great. I think mother and daughter lessons are a must at this point.

Still have yet to get my eyes checked! Put it off last week...

Friday, September 08, 2006

That's what she said

RS: Do you think JG got so drunk at his wedding that he pulled another Studio 54 - but this time on his bride? Was he at his own reception making out in a corner with a bridesmaid?

I would like to think not, but hearing the stories that he was SUPPOSEUBLY a drunk, dancing fool just makes me think of the MGM in January.

I'm gonna do my own version of Veiled Conceit if I find his announcement somewhere on the web.

(How was that? Every entry from now on will include one of those. Perhaps two or three. I mean, its just the english language, for intensive purposes...)

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Therapy is a test where the answer to every question is: because of my mother

Couples therapy. It sounds so lame. But...

First meeting was a rousing success. The title says more than you can imagine!

In all seriousness, the therapy session was a huge huge win. A weight off my shoulders. I see why this works if you have the right elements in place. It's why games have referees and coaches: athletes might have a lot of talent, but even McNabb or Manning needs help with the rules and a playbook. Hell, Staubach didn't coach himself. The '72 Dolphins had Shula and refs there to help them. The 'skins had Norv Turner in the 90's. Uh. Wait. Nope. No...we can't use that. Strike that last one.

But I digress.

It went well. Got to unload a bit. Got some advice. Both got some reprimands for crazy, ultra competitive fighting and related behaviour. Looking forward to the next session on Friday. Putting off the eye exam in favor of another session with the BF and the Dr.

Also anticipating girls night out tomorrow. Just had a lunch debrief on the psychoanalysis with Rock Star and she was as optimistic as me. To celebrate, we're planning a school night outing for libations. I have a dinner first with one of my fellow suburban moms, but now have a post-dinner drinkfest with the girls to look forward to as well. Long overdue.

And in closing:

A psychiatrist is a man who goes to a strip club and watches the audience...

Sunday, September 03, 2006

He's just not that into me

BF is history.

It's been a tough weekend. Minutes seem like hours. Totally depressed. The house is so quiet. Daunting to think about rebuilding parts of my life that were intertwined with him.

Made a quick vow to never date at work again. I now have to face seeing him/hearing about him at work. Ugh.

Friends coming to the rescue though - always good. Had me out and about last night. Trying to set me up with an eye surgeon who is single...keep me from falling back into this when it has been so awful for me. Hoping that when I get a little distance, I'll see what everyone else saw. The logical side of me knows this - I can even see it now on a Sunday morning - but my heart just hurts so much. And I miss him. I had no idea it would hurt this much. I didn't hurt this much when I broke off my engagement last year (very telling about that situation) nor with just about any other break-up.

I thought he was the one.

I haven't hurt this bad since when the first love of my life and I broke up - and that was 18 years ago. Whole other story I don't want to tell right now.

Have to make a list of things to remind myself why this is right:
  1. I was really into him and he's just not that into me
  2. He's not good stepfather material (too selfish, not giving enough and certainly not patient enough to let things flourish as they should over time...) This was his own self-fulfilling prophecy. He kept fearing that he wasn't going to be heard, that he wasn't good enough to be a parent. I spent months telling him otherwise. In the end, he was right. He's not. Perhaps if he were more into me he would have made more of an effort. But alas...
  3. His insecurities were somehow excusable when mine weren't. Whatever. I was willing to overlook and work with what he was weak on. I know he had issues - and I was trying to help. He wasn't willing to return the favor
  4. As such, he's just not that into me
  5. He's just not that into me
  6. He's just not that into me
  7. He's just not that into me

Yup it is my new mantra: He's just not that into you! It's getting me through the really tough moments on a Sunday morning.

I'm off to the bookstore to buy reading material for the pool and for my daughter to buy thank you notes for her various birthday gifts. I have the uncomfortable task of making her write notes to his family for their gifts even though I am trying to erase him from my life. This is one of the last things I need to do where he is concerned.

I suppose with my new singleton status the blog is going to get a lot more interesting again. Let's hope so. I'm not going to have another long dry spell like last summer. And I need to know that he's not the only guy out there that's great in the sack.

Rock star and I are already working on plans for our birthday celebration in December. Something else to look forward to.

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

The week from hell

So last week sucked.

Hadn't written in awhile. BF and I came to terms on the Aruba thing. He was simply being frugal about calling from down there on Monday, and I did end up picking him up from the airport.

But last week - ugh - what a bad week.

I was hormonal. Me and the BF were fighting again, over some imaginary injustice I invented in my head due to the hormonal swings I was experiencing. (Side note - this seems to be getting worse and there are hot flashes now. So I suspect early menopause...not fun.) Telling this just to lay the groundwork.

I was, essentially, feeling very sorry for myself. I felt old, and could hear my biological clock TICK TICK TICKING so loud last week that it kept me awake at night. Well, the ticking and the hot flashes.

So I am at my daughter's school for open house. It's been a shitty sleepless night. I don't wear makeup. I'm wearing a tank top and a little sweater that ties under my rack. The tank doesn't do a good job covering up the new girls. I look like crap, basically, but don't care b/c this is just about getting my daughter comfortable with her new school.

Mistake mistake mistake.

I run into someone I haven't seen in over a year and half. PTA perfect stay at home mom. Runs every morning after walking her kids to school. She thinks I have gotten married. And she asks if I am pregnant.

WOW.

WOW.

Wow.

I guess I HAVE gained weight. Its only like 7 pounds but coupled with the new boobs I guess I look bad.

WOW.

I say no, I am not. And I proceed to say - no I never got married and no I am no longer engaged either.

I want to say I'm just a lame ass big breasted slightly chubby single mom here to meet the teacher. But I don't. I just smile and say something lame like, I'll call you.

Just writing about it now seems shocking. Someone thought I was pregnant. Wow.

I go home and smoke like 5 cigarettes and cry a lot.

And just when I thought it couldn't get worse...

My friend sends me a copy of the Forbes article on "Why you shouldn't marry a career woman". They define career woman as university educated and makes more than 30K per year. I guess I am an uber-career woman at this point.

Apparently I don't keep a clean house. I am more apt to cheat or find someone better than my mate. (This is true, but the same could be said about men!) My mate will be unhappy b/c I potentially could make more.

This is the nail in my coffin. I should just give up on the idea of marital bliss and commitment to my BF and accept singledom as it is inevitable.

I think of the line in the movie Singles. Be Happy- Stay Single!

By Friday I was thinking, ah fuck it all. Nothing I can do about this but exercise and diet and hope for the best on all fronts. If it works out with the BF, fine. If it doesn't, fine but I better get my ass back down to fighting weight and into my size 27 Paper Denim and Cloth that are just a bit too tight right now.

I began exercising in earnest after this past week. I need to lose like 15 pounds. Determined that the next time I run into this woman there is no way she will think I am pregnant. I'd rather her think I was silly and superficial enough to spend a good chunk of disposable income on new boobs than for her to think I am just fat.

Monday, August 07, 2006

Open letter to my bf

Dear BF-

I am very disappointed in you.

For someone who cares so so much about courtesy and manners, and usually is unbelievably thoughtful, you are sorely lacking in this case.

I realize that you like to be frugal, however, I find it ridiculous and utterly absurd that you can spend hundreds of dollars - perhaps thousands - going to Aruba for a long weekend and not be willing to invest just a few to call me today from your mobile with details of your flight back.

Perhaps even sending me an email with your flight details would have been nice. I realize how much effort that would have taken. A fingerprint swipe on the ThinkPad. A few keystrokes in that WIFI - enabled villa of yours. A lot of work.

But alas, you were busy. I understand. Really, I do.

If getting a random cryptic message with no details from you via a stranger's blackberry is what you feel is sufficient for me, then I will respond in kind.

As I was given no courtesy or any sort of effort on this one - and the time is significantly later tonite than the time you originally told me three days ago- I don't feel compelled to make an effort of my own to come pick you up.

I'm communicating this to you via my blog. It's about as personal and direct as you were today. I can't drive the two miles to the airport in your own car to pick you up. Really, I can't. I'm busy. Really.


Words don't just mean something...actions do as well. You've said quite a bit today.

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Crocs,the whopper-ho-ho diet and yacht hair

So why have I not been updating?

Gleefully happy? On vacation? Bored with nothing to say? Turning into a more private person suddenly?

It's a little of all those but mostly that I am just lazy as shit.

So what have I done and seen in the past month? Here are some random thoughts:

  1. What the fuck is up with these Croc shoes? They are ugly as shit. I cannot believe that people leave the house to go out in public wearing them. They look like something you should wear out while gardening, but I am seeing them everywhere. EVERYWHERE. My parents wear them. (Ugh just another sign that they too are turning into old people right before my eyes.) My daughter now has a pair and won't take them off except to occasionally bathe or sleep. My uber cool "I really only like to wear Theory or Diane von Furstenburg" sister is wearing them. Jack Nicholson, not that he's any style maven, is seen wearing them in US weekly. I saw them all over DC and Atlanta. Always on white people though. Silly white folks.
  2. Washington DC is really full of geeks. I always knew this, growing up in suburban DC. But I looked around a certain bar two weekends ago in Adams Morgan and the thought lit up my brain like a bunsen burner in an 11th grade chem lab. DC in the summer is full of smart kids who come to intern who aren't particularly socially graceful or remotely attractive. (Especially the guys.) Nerds love DC! It is a town where the nerdy guy that you used to pick on in the locker room now has the upper hand, and he's eventually going to grow up and get well connected and over-educated and legislate you right into the middle class, tough guy. And although at 21 he looks terribly nerdy and most closely resembles a pre-pubescent 14 year old, he will, one day, be an attractive 35 year old lobbyist in a Brooks Brothers suit. With a hot skinny wife. And you, cool high school guy, will have a gut and be a balding Nascar fan with receding hair and a terribly under-funded 401k. And your wife is named Tammi (with an 'i') who may have been hot when she was 19 but right now her diet consists of whoppers and ho-hos.
  3. Joan Didion's book, The Year of Magical Thinking, is a really really great book on CD to listen to on a long road trip. If you don't mind crying your eyes out every 10 miles or so.
  4. When I met one of my BF's friends this past weekend in Atlanta, all I could think as I was making small talk with him was:

My god, he's got the best yacht hair I've ever seen...

(Yes, yes he does)

24 hour party people

Apologies for being absent. Been uber busy since the party, both at work and on weekends with traveling.

So the party. The Party. I must admit that the day or so leading up to The Party I was incredibly terribly I'm getting my period and have turned into a screaming banshee stressed. Mostly because few, and I mean like only 4 out of over 50, people invited had declined.

I made the infernal party mistake of inviting a number of people based upon the idea that at least 25% of them (or more) wouldn't be able to attend. Weekend in the summer, people on vacay, oh-its-going-to-rain and I don't leave my house people were factored in. Nobody commits these days. Damnit if everyone commited. By Friday morning I realized I was fucked, as my house cannot hold 50 people and it was indeed going to rain.

Lucky for me I had the most excellent party rental place in Raleigh. They rocked. And the accomodated some very last minute additions to my rental.

So The Day of The Party was itself a party. Rock star and gal pal arrived in the morning. The rental party people had set up everything before 11 (the tent, the bar/the tables/chairs/glasses) so we just needed to focus on the food and getting the house ready. This meant spending the day smoking cigarettes and gossipping, all the while accomplishing all our party tasks before 5.

That may have been as much fun as the party. Which reminds me of all the times in my life living with my sister or roommates or boyfriends when sometimes the getting ready/pre-party/drinking before you go uptown/downtown/to Buckhead/to the Highlands/to Five Points/to Shockhoe Slip/to Georgetown/insert your favorite part of town here is equally as good as the fun had on the town.

But I digress.

My awesome friends D/T/J showed up to prepare the bar, as they were the volunteer bartenders, around 6:00. And the party officially started.

Guests began arriving around 6:45 - even though the invite said 7 - as fashionably late wasn't going to work for a surprise party. I worried how Hottie's mom would react to the whole drink menu we had published:

Mombanger

But a quick convo with me owning up to the fact that the joke was on me being a mom and not her cleared it up. Phewwww! Awkward conversation #1 complete.

The guests arrived in droves between 7 and 7:15. The house was staggeringly full. The guest of honor arrived at 7:30 with friends and was pleasantly surprised. He knew something was up, but not something of the magnitude to which we planned. And there were several out of town guests that made considerable effort to attend which surprised the hell out him! His face, as he looked around the room at all of these people (from work, from high school, from college) was worth all of the effort.

People began drinking in earnest after his arrival. The Mombanger was a favorite, but the old fashioneds we had on the menu (Mrs. Robinsons) were a hit with the older crown who "hadn't had them served to them in years" apparently.

The tent and bar was the place to be - especially for smokers - who seemed to multiply as the night wore on.

No personal drama - except I was a little buzzed and forgot about the birthday cakes til about 9. Crisis averted thanks to Gal Pal who was drinking more than me but still somehow managed through her Mombanger haze, to get those cakes out.

There was not really any party drama to speak of. No lamp shades on the head. No dancing on the tables. No one hooking up who hadn't already schemed or planned all week to hook up. Perhaps not so curiously, Rock Star and Vegas disappeared into my spare room at 10 never to be seen again.

There was an admission by an attendee at the party that he had separated from his wife. There was another admission from an attendee that things were going well with her boyfriend. In both cases I was shocked. And here is awkward conversation #2 and #3: Two of my friends separately asked if my boobs had grown in the past few months. (Ha! How does one answer that?) I just replied with a quick smile and a, "Yeah, aren't they fabulous?!"

That's as juicy as it gets. Yawn.

Most people left by 11:30. A core group of about 10 stayed til after 2:00. Too many cigarettes. A lot of mess. Too many Mombangers. I don't want to leave the impression that it was boring or ho hum. It was a great party.

Hottie and I had super fabulous a after-party upstairs in the bedroom. I didn't sleep much.

Thursday, June 22, 2006

Mom Bangers and Bisexuals

More planning last night on the surprise party this weekend.

The theme of the surprise party is The Graduate -the invite is a replication of the UK version of the movie poster with my BF's picture in the place of Dustin Hoffman and his name replacing Benjamin's in the tag line. My friends, who have graciously agreed to serve as bartenders, wanted to plan out theme drinks for the party, centered around vodka, campari and some sort of whiskey/bourbon. We're doing:

Mrs. Robinson - Old fashioneds
Benjamins or "Mom Bangers" (love that double entrendre) - Vanilla vodka, oj, Galliano, splash of soda
The Sounds of Silence - Campari Cocktails

I am only partially ready for the party and its two days away. Ugh! At least I know that the Rock Stars, Vegas and other cast members will be sloshed before 9pm.

So now a few words on MySpace.

I have a profile there - for staying in touch with my musician friends and two friends from HS. I like getting the bulletin board notices from local bands telling me where they are gonna play. I occasionaly get a run of friend requests even though I am marked as being in a relationship - 99% of them I turn down. I can go weeks and not hear anything and then BOOM there are three or four friend requests in one hour. I have gotten some funny ones in the last two days...one guy who clearly looked like a 35 year old virgin (gamer, computer nerd, obviously lonely) and one really young guy who had the balls to post, as his profile picture, a shot of him in a carriage (perhaps in Central Park) with a grayed out form next to him. If you use your imagination - you can tell it was once a girl who had her head on his shoulders. So he photoshopped his old girlfriend out of the pic and use the pic anyway in an effort to meet new girls cuz that's how he rolls...

But I digress...

I have had a run in the last 24 hours of girls asking to be my friend. Not girls I know. These girls, and some are hot, are bi. I wouldn't think it was too weird except that I've been on MySpace for months now and this is the first run of local bisexual girls sending me requests. I have neither accepted or rejected...yet. I just think its funny.

Monday, June 19, 2006

So busy with this surprise party

No time to blog as I am so busy setting up a surprise party for the BF.

But the rest of the week in SF was pretty interesting. I have to hand it to Gal Pal, who, as Rock Star sistah states, has now graduated to Rock Star status. She hooked up with her new BF all over San Fran and missed out on the following due to being a prisoner in her hotel room of love:

  • The best damn won ton soup I have ever had - Far East Cafe in ChinaTown on Grant. (Okay so maybe it was sooo good b/c I was sooo hung over. Whatever. I stand by the reco. And try the Dim Sum appetizer. Who knows what those meatwads were but they tasted deeeelish. The little private eating rooms in this place are really cool.)
  • Hanging out with totally hung over US

Due to some strange illness/prolonged hangover/three day headache I missed the best Thai food ever. According to my friends. I had to be feeling really shitty to stay in whilst in SF.

I did meet up with my friend who got married in Vegas (where I met the hottie from Leeds...hello gorgeous!) who updated me on that whole group. Apparently a couple of pregnancies occurred after that weekend (the couples were married or engaged already so no biggie) and there's an impending wedding next month that everyone is heading to in Ireland. Fun! My friend was happy to hear about Ivy League and wants to meet him, and there were no hard feelings about me not going to London for that week in November.

So back to my new Rock Star Sistah, Must have been fun. Lots of time spent in the hotel room. Maybe starting that blog is appropos now???

Monday, June 12, 2006

Dude that is my favorite Jamorquai album

Am on the road traveling - was out in Colorado for the weekend (with the bf) and now in SF with Rock Star and Gal Pal and Ivy will be joining us tomorrow. I have some observations:
  • Stoner parties are no fun at all if you are not stoned
  • Stoners LOVE Jamorquai...(shit am I even spelling that right?) and they love to listen to it while stoned
  • Jamorquai apparently had more than one album beyond the one with the crazy video that everyone knows them for - who knew?
  • People in Colorado all drive exactly the speed limit b/c most of them smoke pot regularly
  • No matter how far you go away from home, your neighborhood bailbondsmen will find you - proof is Jesse the bondbailsman from Sanford who sat next to us at a bar last night. We're out here in SF and manage to make friends with someone from just one county over back home. This is a good thing. I think everyone should probably have a bailbondsman as a friend
  • The more I drink, the better I think I speak french
  • This is contagious. The more Rock Star drinks, the more she peppers her words with "mon dieu" and "zut alors."
  • Beware of cute women bartenders who offer to do shots with you - chambord gives you a nasty headache
  • Beware of bald jewish Harry Goldenblatt lookin guys with pot to offer and crack-style lighters
  • My mouth tasted like ass this morning
  • I sound like a cross between Bea Arthur, Brenda Vaccaro and Kathleen Turner after a night of drinking and smoking

Friday, June 02, 2006

I have a mansion in hell now

I think after that last post, I have a mansion in hell on one of the best cul de sacs.

Rock star is going today to an early showing of the code, but her Vegas man does not want to play the game as he's actually interested in the movie. Tsk tsk. I am disappointed. A late afternoon showing is perfect for the game. They will probably make out, but that will be hormones and not any sort of mood setting from the film because what sex and sexual energy there was in the book (and I have to admit there was some) is completely stripped out of what made it to the big screen.

My other rock star friend was made a manager today here at work - bravo to you! This is great news.

It has been a slow week. All work, little play.

Tuesday, May 30, 2006

The DaVinci Code Drinking Game

It's memorial day weekend, and we're looking for something to do on Friday night. Going downtown or bar hopping is out, as we've got a couple of huge parties to attend at Jordan Lake and Carolina Beach over the weekend. A lot of people have already left town by Friday afternoon...

So, what to do. What to do.

Do we pull a lemming and go see Da Vinci Code - knowing it might be god awful?

My excuse is that there wasn't anything else showing at the time we wanted to go...but in the interest of ensuring a good time, we created the Da Vinci Code drinking game. It's simple, and guaranteed to get you LIT. Plus, if you do this in the early weeks of filming, while the church crowd is piling into the cinemas from their buses and vans, you get the added excitement of feeling especially hedonistic among all the bible thumpers.

There are but few rules:

  • The girlie rule: Any mention of the phrase "Sacred Feminine" - either out loud or in writing on the screen. This will be your first drink, very early in the film so not to worry as you'll catch an early buzz you can ride out for over two hours. 1 drink/sip
  • French word rule number 1: Any mention of the "Senechaux" - it sounds so cool, even if you aren't quite sure what it stands for. Drink up! -1 drink/sip
  • The "Aha" or "Aghast" rule - anytime the characters have that stupid look on their face, the one that seems to say, "Mon dieu, what is this?" or "Can this be true?" or "I am shocked, truly shocked at what this Albino is doing..." And folks, there are so many of these moments that this is the rule that will be get you as drunk as a schoolgirl with her first bottle of Southern Comfort- 1 drink/sip
  • French word rule number 2: When you hear the word,"Incroyable" - the dumbest "Aha!" moment of all, near the end of the film. You gotta do a shot at this moment, just to get past the fact you threw up in your mouth out of the sheer ridiculousness of the moment - 1 shot

Follow these rules and your guaranteed a good Da Vinci code time. It's riskiest with a full house, but no risk/no reward. I did this in a packed theatre in North Raleigh. I recommend you bring at least 10 small (roadie) bottles of Captain Morgan's and add 'em to your coke as needed, saving a few for the shot rule. The sounds of the bottles opening and the smell of rum goes over REALLY well with the religious set. They'll be praying for you during AND after the movie.

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

Now I lay me down to...

I ran into someone this week that I hadn't seen in awhile, and it reminded me of one of the most surreal bedroom experiences I have ever experienced.

About six years ago I dated a really sweet guy after I got divorced. Smart, well educated, thoughtful, smitten with me, decent in bed but only so-so in the looks department. He made good coin and drove a nice car, and he really liked taking me out to dinner. I was fairly happy with him. He was different enough from my ex husband (i.e. he actually liked socializing with people) that I was having a great time.

Not that there weren't signs of trouble...

He once told me that I swore too much. My response? What the fuck? No fucking god damn way could that shit possibly be true. But I digress.

He took me to church. He wasn't Catholic-no biggie since I am not big on the catholic church anyway as I haven't found time to leave it yet and seem to be content living by my own rules and twisted interpretations. His church was in Durham and was a christian denomination that I can't remember - perhaps Presbyterian, perhaps Methodist. (Hee hee baptists who can read...) Damn I am digressing again. So we go. I am enjoying the morning, thinking of the great dinner and sex we had had the night before, analyzing what everyone is wearing (quite a mixture of what I call Durham granola lesbian chic and uptight almost Baptist Belk outfits with a smattering of almost preppy mid-nineties Dookie) and not at all paying attention to the songs, prayers or what my date was doing.

But I should have been paying attention.

Because when I did come out of my selfish critical fashion daydream, there was my guy singing with his arms raised up towards the ceilings - a la southern preacher praying over his congreation. Like Jimmy Swaggert on tv. Almost, but not quite, like jesus on the cross.

Ugh. What is this?

We don't do this in catholic church. We keep our adoration quiet and well behaved. We don't even sing that loud or well.

Only a few other people were doing it. He was REALLY into this church and god thing. Wow. I just ignored it and went back to imagining what everyone life was like in the rows around me.

A week or so passes, and I get another 'sign' that things are a bit different between us. He calls me from his car while he's driving over to pick me up. His radio is blaring. At first I was like, cool, my guy is totally rockin' out on his way to see me. But then I hear a snippet of the song.

"Our god is an awesome god...."

Huh? Holy evangelistic weirdness Batman!

Soooo. I ask him what he's listening to. He says:

"This is my 'pump me up' music."

I get the pump me up music. Nothin gets me in a good, sexy mood like hearing the opening 20 seconds to Van Halen's "Ain't talkin bout love" or the riff from Iron Maiden's "Wasted Years." It's why I have trouble running without my iPod - the music usually gets me going even if I have no energy.

Christian pump up music? Sandi Patti? Before a date? Let me rephrase that - before a date with me?

I file this away and just try to hang out and be blissfully ignorant.

Then, the final straw.

We go out a week or so later -typical Saturday night date of dinner, drinks, back to my house. We have sex. Its pretty good. (Again, good is relative. All sex is good. Its like pizza. Is there really bad pizza? Not really. Like the pizza you had in high school - all frozen and rectangular shaped. Was it gourmet? No. Did you eat it and enjoy it. Yes.) So the sex is just good, and we are finished. This would be where one would like up a post coital smoke if one were so inclined. I don't do this, neither does he. Instead he asks:

Can I pray?

(This is where it got surreal.)

I say sure! I'm thinking he wants to pray siliently. This is how I was raised. We catholics, outside of mass (and hell even during some parts of the mass) like to keep our prayers to ourselves, mostly so no one knows the stupid shit we pray about. (Please god, please please please let the Orioles win tonite against the Yanks. I can't stand to see the smirk on Johnson's face every time the Yankees win. Please let Murray just wail one out of the park. Oh and can I please get oral sex sometime this month?) So I figure, he's gonna get quiet for awhile.

Well.

He takes my hand, and begins to talk, out loud, God.

"God."

"God, thank you for (insert my name here). Thank you for all the good times we have..."

OUT LOUD. THIS WAS SAID OUT LOUD.

Cue to me, on the other side of the bed.



On the outside, I am all calm. But my eyes are wide in disbelief, and inside of me, the little voice is saying what the fuck? Is this happening? Is he actually thanking god for me? Is he actually thanking god for orgasms? IS HE DOING THIS OUT LOUD????No fucking way. No fucking way.

I gotta go to sleep, and then I gotta break up with this dude. Done and done.

So I broke up with him post haste. Told him he was a little too into God and I was nahsomuch so, and alas this would not work. He took it very well, and we are still friends.

It took me a long time before I told anyone that story though. But when I did, people laughed. Not point and giggle laugh but belly I cannot fucking believe you experienced that laughs. And my friends gave him a new name:

Mr. Pray After Sex

Monday, May 22, 2006

Friday Night

So I got a free get out of my house in the suburbs pass from Rock Star in that she was staying at my house and could take care of my dog for me overnight. This meant an unencumbered Friday night at Ivy League's house in CV. No worries. No rushing out of bed at 5 am to drive home to let the dog out...

Got myself all pretty on Friday night and picked him up around 7:45. He looked delicious but very tired. His job is wearing him out...

Great dinner at Mo's Diner downtown with a couple who are friends of ours. Lots of wine, fabulous food. Headed over to Raleigh Times for a drinks. The couple left after round two, but we stayed. Talked among the two of us for almost 2 hours - good mushy stuff. I won't digress here but it was a great heart to heart. We stumbled home around 2.

And like I said, since I rarely stay there, it feels different, special - i.e. Hotel Sex!

Rest of the weekend involved a college reunion in Chapel Thrill, dinner and a movie with the kids, and more fun at my house after they went to sleep.

Friday, May 19, 2006

Lunch (wink wink)

Yesterday I had the rare occurrence of having a meeting with Ivy League (and others...) at 9am and it was a perfectly delicious way of beginning the day. He looked so good that it was difficult to concentrate on the task at hand. The meeting got fairly contentious - and he ended up leaving it early - but afterwards I stopped by his office and asked if he wanted to have lunch. I happened to wink at him when I said this.

This was an I love you wink but he took it as lunch (wink wink) i'm gonna get a little afternoon delite...

Fine with me.

We met at my house o'fun (I am going to have to start scheduling between me and Rock Star) and began on a dining room chair and ended up in my room later...it was great. Nice break in the day. Cubicle land would be vastly more fun if my lunch was like this every day.

Tonite I loan my house out to Rock Star and get to spend a night at the bachelor pad. Sleeping at his house, because it happens so rarely (b/c of my dog!) is like going to a hotel. And we all love going to hotels - HOTEL SEX!

Monday, May 08, 2006

Mmmm stark carpet

http://nytimesweddings.blogspot.com/

I've been reading the Veiled Conceit blog for awhile now and the latest entry is just so fucking funny that I've linked to the blog permanently. That guy writes like I wish I could, and his caption on the photo of the two gents in his latest entry (Douchamptons) is nothing less than BRILLANT. Plus, the rant of "fuck you...fuck you no jobs" is sooooo perfectly snarky. Please take a look.

That entry - it got me thinking.

Thinking about Rock Star's engaged guy and what his real, true NYT Vows column should (but never would) read. So I have taken a stab at it. Forgive me, Rock Star, for this creative exercise. I've taken the liberty of naming the couple Eugene and Olga.

In Denial - Eugene and Olga

Eugene and Olga met in 1999, when the world was all agog with dot.coms and Y2K end of the world fears. Eugene was an insecure catholic boy and Olga was a very newly arrived eastern european, somewhat out of his league physically but her lack of green card and lack of mastery of the english language put them on par. Olga saw her potential citizenship opportunity and took it - Eugene was lonely, young and middle class and this seemed like a good idea at the time.

Fast forward 6 years later. They as a couple have evolved into a seemingly already married pair, what with the general lack of sex, lack of fun, couples nights with John and Suzy and their snotty nosed offspring and all. This sort of boredom ahem! stability leads them to feel that the "next step" is needed.


When Eugene finally decides to pull the trigger in August/September of 2005, he does so by wooing his babushka with candles and rose petals strewn all over their apartment and popping the question with a decent size diamond- the best his imagination could do and his corporate line job salary could afford. She is thrilled (my country tis of thee!) and so are here parents Boris and Natasha back in the old country.

But the couple, or at least Eugene (as Olga knew nothing of this or apparently became an ostrich in the fall and early spring) hit rough times not too many moons after that lovely engagement weekend. Eugene began to woo girls outside of his apartment too, mainly girls he worked with. He set his sites on one particular married hottie he had been friends with for several years, just based upon her raw North Carolina sexuality. Flirting and messaging ensued, and later the affair is consummated in, of places apropos, Las Vegas.

But Eugene can't keep his eye on the prize (ahh reader is the prize Olga or married hottie?) and during that same week, he decides to make a pass at another long time and also married and also hottie friend of both his and the first married hottie. A make out session occurs that ends only because of whiskey dick and pure alcoholic stupor. Drama drama drama at the MGM.

Apologies are offered, as well as a bogus "she was coming on to me" story and the initial affair with first hottie resumes. GAME ON. Lots of texting. Lots of IMing. The guys who monitor the corporate network look forward to their interchanges. It is intense and wonderful and all an affair should be.



Where is Olga, you ask?



She is still living with Eugene, gleefully planning her wedding and choosing her trousseau by what goes best with that green card she'll soon be getting. Olga, sensing her american meal ticket might just be slipping away, ingratiates herself deeper with Eugene's family



Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Eugene is falling in love with his lovah. Falling hard. He's doubting his life with Olga, and talking about it with anyone who will listen. He thinks his hottie lovah ( who is now separated) only has eyes for him, because how can women possibly think like men and be sexually involved with more than one person? (His quote to the author personally was - "Oh c'mon she is a GIRL after all. She's gonna fall hard for me...")

Yeeeaaaahhhh. I'm gonna need you to come in on Saturday and redo those TPS reports and reset your philosophy, Eugene.

This what girls do in 2006? Wait around for someone to help them, marry them. Marriage is the be all end all. (It does seem to put an end to a once strong libido...but I digress.) Once we find a potential candidate all thoughts of getting with any other penis goes right out the window. We go blind. We don't notice the hot twenty something courier in the building with the doe eyes, sweet smile, perfectly fabulous ass and even more fabulous corn rows. We begin to put things in hope chests. We talk to our cats about you. We watch Lifetime movie network quite a bit at night when you are not around, saving ourselves for you. We set up accounts on TheKnot.com with hopeful anticipation of pushing send on a "Save the Date" email to every girl we've ever known and a few we don't and to ALL of your ex-girlfriends ("I lassoed him girls. I did THAT WHICH YOU COULD NOT DO.") We're not out doing tequila shots with an ex boyfriend or playing bar crawl truth or dare with a coworker or making out with a random guy in a storage closet at work. Nope, that would never happen. I'm not sayin...

But I now I am truly digressing, and this is supposed to be an obit whoops freudian slip Vows entry.

In this state, Eugene thinks of leaving Olga for a new, richer, more exciting life with hottie. After all, his mantra is that guys either want to fuck you or date you, there is no in between, and he's now on the side of dating his hottie.

Oh the naivete Eugene!

Eugene comes back to earth, and back to Olga, after he learns that hottie girl at work has more than one guy (what was he thinking?) and is devastated. Nevermind that he's bored with Olga. Nevermind that he's blind to her citizenship ploy. Nevermind that things with his hottie did not have to end if he had just been less mopey, more confident, and more able to handle the fact that since HE had two women in his life, his lovah was doing the same and had at least two men. Nevermind that he's in no state to get married to anyone at this point.

He's going through with this and that is THAT.

Olga, of course, is very very pleased. She's walking around all day with a smile on her face. That smile which says, "Only a few more blow jobs and then I'm done."

The happy couple will marry in a month and will live, in mind numbing, wedded "I've totally settled for less and will be eternally bored" bliss in suburban Connecticut. And Olga will become an American. To seal the deal, there's likely to be a pregnancy very soon after the vows. Indeed.

Eugene? Eugene will spend some lonely nights thinking of his mistakes while changing the diapers on little Ivan or Svetlana.

Shut Up and Deal

Rock Star had another lunchtime tryst at mi casa today. Too funny. The entire second floor of my house must reek of sex between all that was going on over the weekend and today.

I feel a little like Bud Baxter in the Apartment, just a little male/female role reversal and none of the "using it for company advancement" going on.



http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0053604/



I did not win the lottery, so I am still slaving away in corporate dreariness...glad to have a job but unfulfilled nonetheless.

Monday, May 01, 2006

Things I would do if I won the lottery

Quit my job - the resignation conversation would be soooo sweet and would occur literally within minutes of me picking up my winnings
Set up a college fund - boring but needed
Enroll my daughter in Montesorri - IBID
Give $$ to NARAL- Need to provide some balance to the pro lifers out there with deep pockets
Give $$ to the SPCA - too many dogs out there that need homes/food/etc
Give my sister $$$ so she could quit her job-she's so stressed out about her job this item would be as sweet as my own resignation
Take a 3 week cruise- I want to get on a boat and not leave it for three weeks. Don't care where it goes.
Buy a house at the beach - so that I can hear the ocean at night from my bed
Ride horses once a week-the world looks better from that vantage point

Have more sex

and as a result:

Have another baby and/or adopt some siblings - share my wealth

Get in really good shape and lose the love handles- no more working in a cubicle means I should work more on my abs
Get a little more botox to get rid of the frown lines- I am too expressive with my eyebrows (my doctor's words) and thus have deeper frown lines than a girl my age should. Laugh lines are a nice word for deep wrinkles you add to everyday...
Write that freakin book I have been talking about for the last 6 years
Fund a scholarship at my alma mater that I would write the credentials for: not based upon grades or activities but on ability to do keg stands or shots or how well you dance on a bar or how well you work a room of people or where you decide to take me on the interview

Saturday, April 29, 2006

Please pass the MOJO.....

I must apologize for my extended absence. Corporate H did tell you that I am pregnant and I've become a homebody and haven't even read the blog for a month! I blame the hormones as always...What the hell happened in Houston? Didn't catch that on the blog...Did I miss something? Is this when I called you from the reunion? I'm thinking I need to visit and pass the MOJO back. Mine is still standing strong. In the past few months I have been propositioned for sex....(Okay, gross, I'm showing/obviously pregnant!!! The loser knew it too - I told you this CH), have been told I'm the prettiest pregnant woman ever ( by a doctor who's had a crush on me for years, he's not that unfortunate in his looks, but I like to joke and be friends, not flirt--no attraction from me, eegads!), asked if I would pose for luscious lactating ladies ( I seriously hope there is no such rag!), and asked to go to the prom with a bouquet of tubing....(the last 2 are from my Zoom friend) I discussed sharing my D's with someone.....didn't happen though, again I'm pregnant and NO MESSING AROUND, ICK! He wouldn't leave me alone for 2 weeks after that, Ha! That will teach him to not do what he says. I love to punish!

Can we punish Ivy? Sounds like he needs it!!

Expect a call Monday.....will have the ultrasound that day!!!!!!

Thursday, April 27, 2006

This is the best costume for the day

"In the Hamptons, they'll arrest you for wearing red shoes on a Thuhssssdeeee"


I love Little Edie. Finally finally finally I watched Grey Gardens...(http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0073076/)

Holy crap! Now I get it. If you can get your hands on a copy, which can be difficult, sit down and enjoy. It is interesting and sad and better than any of the recently released too-slick and almost-rehersed documentaries out there. The footage is raw, the women (the Beales) featured are so stunningly original and tragic and the filmakers allow you to draw your own conclusions on them.

What struck me was how beautiful both of these women were at one time, especially Little Edie, and what a life they must have had when both were younger and had money and the future was nothing but bright and full of teas in the Hamptons with rich young men from Princeton and girls who studied at Miss Porter's. They lived in a house that was grand enough to have a name- Grey Gardens - and in a town where all houses have names. But time passes, bank accounts shrink, men leave, asses sag, hair greys, skin wrinkles, invitations dry up, friends ignore and the Edies find themselves in the 70's, seemingly mad at moments and living in that same house but in squalor. Not that squalorous conditions aren't tough all everywhere, but of all places to live in squalor, oh! the Hamptons...



There was another side of me that thought Jesus H. Christ someone should have gotten a fucking job years ago so that the house could be kept up. I'd love to sit around all day and look at the beautiful beach and dance around in a bathing suit with a sweater on my head pontificating on manners or books by Hawthorne or what I used to do back in the 30's while feeding racoons Wonder Bread in my attic BUT my company expects me at the office.

This side of me didn't stick around too long because the part of me that loved watching and listening to Little Edie and her bon mots won out.

Netflix has this movie btw...

More time =

about 12 hours.

He called me yesterday morning at 8 to leave a really sweet message (which I did not retrieve until this morning...bad at checking voicemail) about how good he felt about us.

And at 11 yesterday, he sent an IM:

Him: Can you get a babysitter Sat?
Me:Why? What's up?
Him: Beerfest? I think it will be fun for us...

This was 12 hours after we got off the phone. What up? That's all the time he needed?

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Finally a breakthrough

After some more talking, we finally reached a point on the phone last night where we were nice to each other again.

Don't feel like rehashing here yet - so very tired- but it was a good conversation. I told him I thought he had gone through more changes than I in adapting himself to our life together -and that wasn't always fair nor had I previously acknowledged all that he had done.

That was a good moment...

Other key moments:

Do you want to date other women? (NO)

Do you want to date me? (This answer was all over the place from no (ouch,) to not the way things are now (duh!) to a resounding yes by the end of the call)

Do you need more time? (Yes)

How much? (days...not long...need to work on thing about me)

We'll see how this goes but I am hopeful.

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

This is a fine example...

Of how this relationship has become a pain in the ass.

Was looking for someone to eat with, so asked Ivy. He said:

"If its going to be a good conversation, then I'll try. If not, I would rather wait for tonite."

WTF? I was simply looking for someone to walk to the cafeteria with.

He quickly apologized, but I ate with someone else anyway.

Yet another life more interesting than mine

New link off this page - chosen simply on that name alone - but I know through a friend that this Atlanta girl knows how to have fun and will let us in on all that.

Anxiously awaiting the set up of Gal Pal's blog - get off yer ass girl and write!

Girl you have power - work it

That is a quote from a new friend (gay, obviously) that rock star, gal pal and I met Friday night through my ex. He was such a bright spot in an otherwise marginal weekend. Rock Star blogged about our girls night out, so I won't repeat the details here. The weekend can be summed up in a list...


Things I learned this weekend (in no particular order):

  1. Gay men are fabulous for boosting your self confidence
  2. Ex boyfriends often have you around to make their current girlfriends jealous
  3. That same ex was impressed with the new boobs
  4. Slumber parties are still fun even in my thirties
  5. Not all men appreciate a booty call, even when you look really really delicious
  6. Guy friends have no qualms about asking you directly if your boobs have grown
  7. I have no qualms about answering that previous question with a very honest answer (ahh yes they have indeed grown with the help of my reputable plastic surgeon and the dollars I paid him)
  8. I hate talking politics or hearing people talk politics at weddings
  9. I am very happy with my new boobs
  10. Even in the midst of a "break" or fighting or whatever it is that Ivy and I are doing, we still are able to have mind blowing sex (albeit only once all week)
  11. ABBA songs are surprisingly sad if you are going through rough times or a break up - even some that are seemingly happy sounding on the surface (SOS...)
  12. Related to that, Mamma Mia actually is a fun show if you embrace the cheesiness of it all
  13. My rock star friend has an amazing capacity for fun and she brings that out in me (Friday!)
  14. You can easily mistake a concern for erectile dysfunction/whiskey dick with a change in morality - Gal Pal you know what I mean here
  15. I'm not working my "power" enough and possibly have not yet met the right man (per our new gay friend)
  16. If you propose a break or a pullback in your relationship, one should be prepared that your significant other will jump all over the chance to NOT see you very often, and you are screwed if you change your mind and still want to spend a lot of time with him
  17. When you later propose going cold turkey for awhile, i.e. no calls or anything, your significant other gets upset about it, but then later ignores you and doesn't call - again apparently embracing your proposal
  18. I should stop making stupid proposals I have not thought all the way through
  19. Lack of communication begins to create the feeling you are single
  20. This situation I am in now has none of the benefits of being in a relationship (closeness, someone I can count on, daily communication, someone you know you will see on the weekends, a best friend, regular sex, someone to face the future with) but all of the crap (not seeing each other but not being able to see other people, occasional fighting, cold unresponsive behaviour, not too much friendship, very little sex) - relationship limbo!