She Is Anyway

New Balance.

2011-09-12T22:48:00.013-04:00

My grandfather was a Republican. A loud and proud Republican. Every time he saw a baby, he would shake its little fingers and tell it, "Say 'I'm a Republican!'" Because of this, he collected elephants. There are dozens of elephants of all shapes and sizes in his house.

Two years after we lost him, my mom persuaded me to take something from his home. My cousins had taken furniture, my aunt had too, but for so long, I just couldn't do it. It felt so real, so wrong to take something that was his. It meant he was really gone, but it was also about respect for his authority. He was so strong, our leader, always commanded respect. I knew immediately what I wanted - his desk. I wanted to finish my PhD on his desk. It was a way to show respect for how he inspired me and provided me with opportunities and encouragement, and it was a way to involve him in this process I know would make him so proud.

On top of the desk, there was a pair of book ends. They were elephants.

I almost didn't take them, he hated that I wasn't a Republican, but they were him - he loved elephants. For all my life, every time I saw an elephant, I thought of him. So I took them, and they sit on the bookcase in my bedroom.

In India, the elephant is sacred. Because of its shape and strength, the elephant symbolizes the stronghold, the foundation that everything is built on. Sometimes, they put elephants at the base of temples in India so that it looks like the elephants actually are supporting the structure, as if the elephant is strong enough to uphold the weight of a large stone temple.

That fits my grandfather too.

Another way they understand the elephant in India is the Ganesha - the figure of a human body with the head of an elephant. That symbol brings good things, it is called the Lord of Beginnings and Lord of Obstacles - because he removes all obstacles and imparts his wisdom.

All of these things, I could use a bit more of.

I've been out of whack for awhile now. The drama with the unhappy people got me down, the wedding planning drama, fear of failure, fear of starting my dissertation and failing.

A friend of mine very astutely told me once that I am a sponge, I soak up all the emotions that are near me. I think about that often because it is so very true, painfully so. But it's not just emotions that I soak up. I soak up whatever I'm swimming in at the moment, whatever is around me - emotions, yes, but also circumstances, geography, pressures, anything. Mostly negative because the positive can be so hard to hold onto.

I'm not sure sponge is right, but I am malleable. I'm flexible. I know someone who is always so sure of things, so certain that she's right that she is unwavering. Even in little things, which I find so amusing. I was thinking today of a conversation we had once when we were talking about an author, and I reminded her that we talked about her latest book. She definitely said, "No, we didn't. We didn't talk about it." It struck me as so odd, so funny really. I forget things all the time so when someone mentions a conversation I don't remember, I just laugh and assume it's my faulty memory. I'm flexible.

My opinions about things or habits can sometimes be flexible too. I just feel like I'm constantly trying to bend myself to suit someone else. Not because they're demanding it, but because I'm accommodating.

I need, rather, to be balanced. To be secure and strong. Not in the little things, which don't add up to much, but in my way of life. I need to remove obstacles in my path, yes, but I am my own obstacle. I get in my own way all of the time. I'm afraid of failing so I don't start. I feel everyone else's emotions so strongly that I lose hold of my own. I need to live a balanced life, and I need to be less indulgent. I'm in a moment of turmoil so I indulge myself, but I'm also being indulgent in my obsessions and by insisting on swimming in turmoil for as long as I can tread water. If I stop feeling everyone else, maybe I can be myself again.

I need an elephant.

So this is my public promise to you, my friends, and to you, kind strangers who happened upon me today, I will find a way to stand firm in the moment and live life as I see fit. I will find my balance. I will find my stronghold. Day by day, moment by moment. This is only one of many beginnings. Let's see if I can finally get it right.

I Married Adventure

2011-08-26T00:35:00.019-04:00

We did it!!!

I've never posted a picture of myself on this blog before...but I just couldn't help myself. The wedding was a crazy blur, but at the end of it, I have the most amazing man as my partner and love for life. He's more than I ever hoped for or even thought existed. My cup truly overflows.

This weekend, we're going to Brussels because why not? Life together is always an adventure!

"At its heart, this is the story of two people who met by chance, fell in love and defied the odds to travel the world and follow their dreams."

Oh, and I just have to tell you, my favorite part of the day was going out to a bar downtown after the reception. There was a Prince cover band, and we got on stage and danced! And I sang with the band! Far from the microphone, but still, very fun. The party never stops!

I promise to write more soon. :)

Internet Savvy

2011-04-26T00:46:00.004-04:00

It's the end of the semester, which is good and bad. Good that I don't teach again until August. Bad that I have a mountain of papers to grade, and a million students emailing me. The internet has changed the teacher-student relationship forever.

The worst is they expect an immediate reply. Waiting 24 hours is neglect to them. Can you imagine that in the business world? When I was in college, we had email, but I can't remember ever emailing a professor. I must have, I'm sure I did, but it was such a rare occasion, I don't even remember. I called them, I made appointments to meet with them, I stopped by during office hours, but hounding them on the internet? Nope.

It's the most annoying thing ever, this internet. It means that people constantly have access to us, or assume they do. Sure, it's great to reach out and connect with someone instantaneously without having to shower or change out of my pj's, but it makes it impossible to duck and dodge. Sometimes, I just don't feel like talking on the phone, but if I don't answer when someone calls or texts, they assume I'm ignoring them. The same thing is true of student emails. They think they have access to me 24/7.

Now the bright side of teaching in the digital age is that it's suuuper easy to catch cheaters. Because cheaters are stupid, and they leave a digital footprint easy to track.

My favorite stories are the ones about students who tell sob stories of dead grandmothers, suicidal sisters or long mysterious hospital stays. I'm a sucker, I trust everyone, it's a blessing and a curse. I feel sad when a student tells me something tragic happened to them. I want to help. That's why I love teaching. But one thing I'm learning is, wait for it, not all these stories are true. Gasp!

I believe wholeheartedly that if you lie about a death in the family, karma is gonna get you like the bitch she is. One professor told me a student once lied about a dead grandma to get out of a midterm exam only to have the grandma actually croak when finals came around. The student confessed and cried and cried, worrying that her lie somehow killed her sweet Nana. And it probably did.

So I never ask to see death notices or funeral programs. Too sad and too personal, and if you lie about death, sooner or later, it's going to catch you.

A few months ago, a friend told me a story about a student who made up this elaborate lie that her sister was studying abroad in Paris but was so lonely, she tried to commit suicide. She had to rush to be by her sister's side. Sad story, and my friend almost believed it, but on a hunch, she turned to Facebook to investigate. Sure enough, the girl was dumb enough not to have any privacy settings turned on and had a long list of status updates about how cute French boys were and how much fun it was to shop on Champs-Élysées. Busted.

It's also super easy to catch kids plagiarizing. I read a paper that seems too good to be true, choose a sentence and type it into Google. Voila! So easy it's almost boring.

I caught a student who plagiarized on two papers (not one, but two!) and found she simply copied and pasted the entire papers from a website. Yet another way Google is making life easier. She tried to deny it when I showed her the papers and the print-out from the website. She told me that she thought that was the assignment. For a writing class. Instead of writing, I wanted them to copy someone else's writing and put their name on it. Hmm.

She cried and then threw her snotty Kleenex at me and stormed out of my office saying, "Now I have to transfer schools again!"

I saw her on campus the next semester, and she glared at me like I killed her grandmother. Though that was probably the lie that caused her to leave the last school. Will they ever learn? I doubt it, but I don't mind, the internet makes it fun to catch them.

Oh, The Places You Will Go

2011-04-14T12:34:00.005-04:00

I think there's something about weddings that makes you reflect on your life, the choices you made and the people who influenced you along the way. Choosing bridesmaids and others to be involved in the wedding, for example, makes you remember all the times those people were there for you, how they supported you, and all that you've been through together.

I feel lucky to still be close with people I grew up with, and after decades of friendship, it's incredible to see how our lives have grown and changed. One of my best friends, a girl I've known since I was 10 years old, is pregnant with triplets right now. Whoa! Another girl I grew up with had her first baby a few months ago, another just had her second, and another spent the past two years living in London and traveling through Europe with her wonderful husband. These are girls that I used to play "Power Princess" with, roll houses with, and daydream about what our husband would be like, what our lives would be like as grown-ups.

I have friends who became doctors, lawyers, academics, and when you take a moment and look back at it all, it's amazing to see how it all came together, how we got here from there. Nothing is more humbling or awe-inspiring than to truly know someone and watch their evolution.

Of course, some friends I've lost touch with, but it's always fun to hear what happened to them. Facebook is great for that, right? I've re-connected with a few friends and now see pictures and updates about their children and careers. It's very cool.

Recently, I visited an old friend in LA and got to meet the love of his life, and I got it immediately - they fit together like they really were made for each other. He's in grad school now and wants to teach public speaking, he's teaching a group of high schoolers now in an after school program. Crazy that the guy who used to steal booster seats from fast food restaurants is now shaping the minds of America's youth! And another friend of ours from high school is on a show on the Disney Channel! The guy who used to tell the dirtiest jokes I've ever heard is on a show for kids!

Last night, MG and I went to a small concert with some friends. Oddly, and for the first time in years, I saw the Asshole Ex-Boyfriend. I caught him out of the corner of my eye a couple times, but he ducked and dodged, and then I got a good enough look to tell that yes, it was him. He looked awful. Shorter and fatter than I remember, with a frumpy girl with cheap highlights. The worst, though, was that he looked so dull and ordinary. I guess we're all ordinary, but seeing him was just so jarring - this was the guy that I loved so much I let him treat me like shit for years? Really? It's like learning that monster you were afraid of for so many years was just a shadow in your closet.

I don't know what his life is like, I imagine he still talks about leaving a job he'll never have the guts to leave or starting a business he'll never start or moving to a town he'll never move to. Maybe he's happy, I hope he is, and in fact, I'm sure he is, but it's so incredible to see how people's lives turned out just the way they wanted that it is sad if anyone's life isn't what they want it to be. I hope he's happy and changed. And I'm happy I don't have a clue.

After the show, we went up to talk to a friend who got heckled by the musician because he knows her. We teased her because he kept telling her she wasn't singing or smiling enough. She's one of those people that always knew what they wanted, what they were good at, and made the life she imagined. Really cool girl.

And I also saw a friend from high school. Probably the nicest person I've ever met. I haven't seen him in close to fifteen years, but as soon as we saw each other, we remembered that old friendship and the fun times we had immediately. He lives in LA now and was at the show because he's the promotions director for the record label. In high school, I remembered we both loved The Counting Crows. It seemed like almost every week, he'd come to school wearing a shirt from one of their concerts. So inspiring to see someone who always wanted to work in music made that dream come true.

I think everyone in my life, past and present, is inspiring. There are people and stories we remember as morality tales, reminding us to always buckle our seatbelt so we don't have a bad car crash like that one friend, to work hard and try hard unlike our friend who dropped out of college and works at the mall, to love with all our heart and cherish our partner because we know that couple in the bad marriage or the guy who got left at the altar.

I always focus on the good things, there is so much good, and there certainly are a lot of people in my life who've overcome so much, who accomplished what they set out to do, who are living their dreams - there are those who teach us how not to live and those who inspire us to live more like them. I hope I am a part of the latter because I truly am blessed and surrounded by many who are. God bless good friends! Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver, and the other gold!

Looking for a Little Guidance

2011-02-15T11:29:00.004-05:00

I am a lover - not a fighter...which is to say, I really suck at fighting. I would rather resolve a conflict in a peaceful conversation than have a heated raging fight that ends up in more unresolved issues.
In the past few months, my fiance and I have learned that there are a couple people in his life who aren't thrilled that we're together. Everyone loves me, but these three...and yet why does it feel like everyone hates me???

Their reasons are ridiculous. Mostly, they're bummed they don't see their good pal as much as they used to, but instead of understanding it's because he's entered a new phase in his life, they direct all their angst at me. I've taken him away from them. I've changed him. Blah blah. One piece of "evidence" that I'm a horrible person is that instead of going on vacation with a group of his friends, we attended the wedding of one of my friends. The horror!

It's caused a lot of stress and heartache for us in the past few months, which are supposed to be part of one of the happiest times in our lives. It sucks. We've gone around in circles about it, but both have finally succumbed to the fact that there is nothing we can do. My heart really hurts for him because he's been in so much turmoil over this. It hurts him that his friends are not supportive, but it hurts him more to realize that he has to lose them.

Believe me, I'm shortening a very long, drawn-out ordeal, but it is one of the more difficult times in my life. Everyone likes me! Everyone always likes me! No, you don't understand, I'm serious! My mom said that's what's really gotten under my skin, and she's probably right.

At the crux of the problem are two mean girls. The third is the husband of one of them. And no, the other girl is not single with a crush on my man - in fact, she's married to his brother. Ohhh now it gets complicated!

My fiance has had issues with her in the past, and he doesn't really like her...not that anyone knows that because their family is one of those that never talks about their issues. Sigh. It's a freaking mess.

He's been incredibly supportive of me throughout, which I couldn't be more thankful of, and we've both come to terms with the fact that this is just the situation we're in. There have been conversations, but none that went well or changed things. The brother is trying to stay out of it, which is good, but I also don't feel comfortable around him because I assume he must agree with his wife at least a little. What am I getting myself into!

It all goes back to a lifelong problem of mine. I can't get over it when people dislike me. It hurts so much and for always. I am just not able to say, "If you don't like me, it's your loss." Of course it's their loss. Of course I've done everything I could do. Of course everyone else in his life is thrilled that he's marrying me. So why do I let these three stress me out so much? Why can't I just breathe and move on? Why can't I stop thinking about it? Any advice or insight would be super. :)

Let's Do the Time Warp Again

2010-09-23T13:45:00.005-04:00

I was watching a TV show the other night, and in a discussion among characters, it was revealed one of them invited an ex-boyfriend to her wedding. They were still friends, but it was made clear they dated for awhile. And I started thinking about the fact that I'm good friends with an ex, who will most certainly be in attendance at my wedding. Is that weird?

We never had sex...but got damn close. It's been almost 6 years since we broke up...but the last time we hooked up was 4 1/2 years ago. I don't know if that makes a difference. We are good friends. He's a good person, kind and loyal and over the past 2 years, my fiance` and I have had several double dates with him and his girlfriend. They're cool, and he knows that my ex is on the wedding invite list.

Thinking about all this has made me wonder what my other ex's are up to. Are they married? Do they know I'm engaged? I'm friends with a girl I met through one ex - if she knows, does he? What would it even matter? I don't want to know if any of them are engaged or married. I thought I might, but I really don't care. The past is the past.

Now they're just stories to tell about my life before I met my fiance`. Kind of makes me think about some of the guys my mom dated once upon a time that she's told me about. Am I someone's story too? I suppose that only makes sense. A couple of my ex's will certainly be cautionary tales I tell my kids! Don't date potheads - they may get high and set your living room on fire!

Speaking of, I think if I found out the Asshole Ex was married or engaged to the girl he was dating when we last spoke, I'd feel really icky. He said such awful things about her - told me she was easy, would do anything he told her, even told me once that she thinks what he tells her to think, shared with a table of people that she gave terrible blowjobs, oh and what else? That's right, in one of his creepy come-ons to me while they were dating, he shared that he wanted to break up with her but couldn't because she was a good dogsitter. Recipe for success, am I right? I think the reason I stayed friends with him for so long was I kept waiting for him to prove that there was more to him than asshole, that the good in him I saw when I loved him really exists...but also...I think I kind of enjoyed the validation it gave me to know that he was still a shit.

I always thought his relationship pattern of breaking up with someone and getting back together over and over (me included) was the perfect precursor to being in one of those marriages where the couple divorces and then later re-marries each other again. The thing is, with him and with any of the ex's, to me they're dodged bullets.

No, that's not true, it's not just that I'm glad I didn't end up with them and found my fiance` instead - it's also that all the bad and good relationships I've ever had in my 31 years helped get me to where I am today. Those are closed chapters in my life, and there are good reasons I don't talk to them anymore, but they were important chapters as well. I learned who I was and who I wanted, what kind of relationship I wanted for my life.

The past is in the past for a reason. Not only because it should stay there, but also because it got us to where we ended up. And where we're going to. I'm not going to say that everything happens for a reason, I honestly wish I had the courage to end some of those relationships earlier than I did, but even the mistakes taught me something that got me to this point and prepared me for these steps. There were lessons to learn, and I learned them...no matter how long it took. Even the mistakes trained my heart for what was to come and what will be.

So, ex's of the world, thank you. I wish you all well. And if I am a story you tell, I hope that it's because our short time taught you lessons that led to your future or current happiness. As they say, all's well that ends well...or really, that just ends.

I'M ENGAGED!

2010-08-20T00:55:00.009-04:00

I know that all caps is obnoxious and that all caps for that particular announcement likens me to Monica from Friends when she's literally shouting from her balcony that she's getting married...but fuck it. I'm engaged!

Truthfully, bloggy friends, I got engaged two weeks ago. Actually, two weeks ago exactly from today. I wanted to tell all the people in my life and after making it official on Facebook (gotta love the internet age), I'm announcing it here and now to you nice people. You feel like friends too.

It's been almost two years since we started dating, and it's kind of unbelievable but I knew it right from the beginning. When I was in college, my roommate told me she thought I'd be one of those people who just knew instantly...and she was right. She actually told me last week that after I told her about him for the first time, she told her husband there was something very different about him. And after she met him for the first time, she told her husband not to tell me because I'd freak out, but that I was going to marry that boy. When I asked her how she knew, she said that I was more open with him than with anyone else before. So true, so true. I love good friends.

And there was clearly something different about him from the moment we met. I just felt so relaxed and comfortable. There was no pressure, no fear - he was so calming and made me so damn happy from the start. He's the kindest man I've ever known.

Truth be told, our first date was so good that when the check came and it was almost time to say goodbye, I asked him if I could buy him a drink at the bar. Because the date was so good and the conversation so great, I wanted to hold onto it for a little longer. After it ended, he walked me to my car and surprised me with a first kiss! He called his brother on the way home and a good friend of his, telling them both that I was something very special. And I called my mom to tell her the same thing.

I've always had major commitment issues (major!) but with him, it seemed so natural and I fell so easily. There were moments where I thought it was too good to be true but I was brave enough to wait them out. I saved the wine cork from our 4th date because I felt so good about things. It was the first time I cooked dinner for him, and the first time he was in my apartment (I'm such a lady!).

I've dated a lot of creeps, a couple really great guys, but mostly just dated guys who were so-so. I always felt that something wasn't right, that I was settling, but everyone always told me that I set my sights too high, that I was looking for someone perfect and no one is ever perfect. But my guy really is. Perfect for me. I know there are people out there who are looking for someone who doesn't exist, but that just wasn't me. I always knew exactly what I was looking for, I just didn't believe such a good dream could come true.

It did.

Believe in yourself. Trust yourself. No one ever does that enough.

Now on to the really good part! Because my guy works for an airline and I am utterly spoiled with ridiculous flight benefits, we took a trip to Italy. We spent time in Rome, Florence and Venice. And my sweetheart waited until we were alone on a bridge over a canal in Venice to pop the question. Most fucking romantic thing that's ever happened to me and probably ever will. I may watch too many movies, but damn - such a perfect setting! Not to mention the loveliest and most loving man who ever was. I haven't been able to wipe the grin off my face in weeks, and I doubt I ever will. God bless the broken road.

Life is What You Make It

2010-07-13T00:25:00.009-04:00

I can't sleep. It rained in Atlanta today, and rain pounded down on my life today. I've had a really bad day and not a great summer, to be honest with you. I tried to sneak out of bed, but woke MG...oops. "You okay?" "Yeah. I'm just getting up." "You can watch TV if you want." "Ok." "I love you." "I love you too. Sorry for waking you."

Aw.

A week ago, we moved into a new apartment...together. Well, sort of together. He has more stuff in this one than he had in the last, and his name is on the lease, but we're waiting to move furniture in until IT is official. As I'm typing this, I'm wondering WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH ME?

I have a wonderful man who is everything I ever hoped for and more, and he loves me more than I ever thought I would be. And I love him more than I ever knew I could love someone. So what's wrong? Why doesn't that make all the other shit in my life unimportant and incapable of keeping me up at night?

I'm so damn lucky, I know how lucky I am - I've been there, I've had shitty boyfriends, bad dates, guys that don't call - so I know I hit the jackpot here. But the thing is that when you find your soulmate (yes, dammit, I used that word), it is an incredible miracle. It's just that it's also not the end of a fairy tale. Life goes on after the movie ends. And what you don't see in the two hours that Katherine Heigl or Sandra Bullock are on screen is that work is crazy and there are other characters in the lives of our leads besides the sidekick or two that we see nodding enthusiastically and chiming in with sarcastic comments. The thing is - life is not a movie, even when it feels like one.

Family sucks. Family fucking sucks. No one can hurt you like family and no one can screw you up more. I have never been in a movie family. Much less a sitcom family with make up hugs and laugh tracks. My family is more complicated than that. There are those I don't talk to at all, those I don't talk to often enough because of weirdness and those I wish I could never talk to again but have to because, well, they're family.

I'm an only child, and my father has been pretty much out of the picture even when he was in it. So I understand all about making your own family. That's why I cherish my friendships so much and love my friends as fiercely and deeply as I do. My best friend from childhood and I call each other sisters - because that's what we are. I have a movie family if you count my friend family. I guess it's kind of like what I was saying about MG. I know what it's like not to be loved, and that makes me love more intensely.

Even so, when someone in my family (or a friend I love like family) thinks I suck or tells me horrible qualities they think I have, I wallow in that nastiness. Why does it hurt so much? Why does the hatefulness hurt even when you expect it? And why doesn't it get any easier as you get older? I don't understand the point of it all, repeating the same nonsense over and over. It feels like I'm in a Greek myth. But instead of rolling the boulder up the hill and having that fucker roll back down every dang time, my curse is I try hard to make people happy, I want so much to be loved and accepted, I want everyone to get along - but that damn boulder rolls the fuck down every time.

(Sorry for the swears. I'm impassioned.)

I don't know what the lesson of this latest nonsense is. And as much as I like MG's family, I'm terrified that one day the curse will come to his sweet family because what if the problems and dysfunction of my family eventually surface in his?

The really good thing I have to focus on, though, and the light in all of this drama is MG. Just like with my best friend/sister, I can create my own family. Not a movie family, it will still be an imperfect family, but hopefully one that loves and forgives and perseveres. The exciting thing about beginning a new chapter in your life is the optimism and hope that comes with it. After all, I am lucky. I am blessed. And no matter if it's raining, I am still in the middle of an incredible miracle.

Eating and Loving - At Least I'm Good at Something

2010-05-24T22:20:00.013-04:00

Have you ever read Eat, Pray, Love? It's a beautiful, inspiring, moving book. It's personal and also universal, as the author so eloquently described today on Oprah.

I read it three years ago right before I started grad school. I think I breezed through it, read it too fast, and I picked it up again today in anticipation for the movie, which stars Julia Roberts and comes out in August. Go with your best girl friend! And have wine after!

The author wrote the book after she traveled to Italy, India and Bali the year after her divorce. It's about her journey out of that loss and into loving herself again, finding herself again. But it's also about stopping in the hustle and bustle of life to take time for yourself, to take time to appreciate life's little joys and to always strive for inner peace.

The first section is about Italy, and all the beauty and rich food that goes with that. Italy is my favorite place. I've been lucky enough to see it twice and pray I'm lucky enough to go again. One of my close friends, Z, mentioned a few months ago that it'd be fun to go to Tuscany for cooking classes, and one day, I'm going to make sure we take that trip. Hell, or just go to Tuscany! I love the food and the wine and the art - it's in the air and embraces you with every breath. I secretly hope MG proposes there, though I realize I'm not in a romantic comedy, nor is he a rich, famous celebrity like Tom Cruise.

Italy I get. I get pleasure. I get taking time to smell the roses (or the ragu as the case may be). And love (what she finds in Bali) I get in many ways. I love my friends and when I love anyone, I love as the verb - I love with my actions. I don't know exactly what happened to me when I was mourning my grandfather that made me ready, finally ready, for meeting the love of my life. I know that for the first time ever, I truly wanted it. I realized that I can go through anything alone, I am strong and I always survive, but that I don't want to be alone. I want someone to be in the trenches with me and I don't want to cry alone anymore. And maybe that's it, maybe that's all it took.

What I struggle with most, I think, is peace (India). My aunt and my mom told me once they believed I moved around so much from place to place because I was like a cork floating in a river, just bouncing along and moving wherever the currents take me. They were wrong, and I knew it even at the time. It didn't make sense to them to live in places like New York or DC. But I moved around so much because I wanted to, not because I was some victim of life, not thinking about or planning my next step, but just being tossed and bullied from this way to that.

I will admit that I sometimes feel a little like that cork, though. When people hurt me or things get tough, I feel like I'm in a boat, paddling along on my course, but I get knocked and pushed around, sometimes off course if even for a moment, from the force of the hurt or stress. It's hard to shake, it's hard to get back on course.

That is what I need to work on. I need to find my own power to stay on course and hold onto peace. And I think Elizabeth Gilbert is right - giving into little pleasures and immersing in love are crucial to finding inner power and inner peace. Enjoying, no, not just enjoying but reveling in life's pleasures and in love's power and presence are the things that can keep me on course and keep that peace within me strong if I focus on them rather than the weight bearing down on me. It's good to indulge in extra servings and extra hugs.

Concerted Efforts

2010-05-18T02:44:00.009-04:00

When I stumbled back onto this blog tonight, I read my last post, which I wrote shortly after MG and I went to DC for a friend's birthday party. At the party, I mentioned running into the brother of a guy I briefly dated a few years ago. I always wanted to blog about him, but never did because he read my blog. But I haven't talked to him in a year or more so I figure it's safe to assume he no longer reads my blog.

Have you ever known someone who thought you were waaay into them, but you really weren't? It's the most annoying thing because you want to correct the misunderstanding but can't without sounding like an ass. "Uh, dude, you're not that awesome." That was the situation with this guy.

I broke up with The X a week or two before I met Captain Confidence (a friend named him that a couple years ago...you'll see why). And we'd been dating off and on for three years. It was the most serious relationship I'd ever had at that point and the only time I'd been in love. No way was I over it. I just happened to be in a different city for my rebound.

Captain Confidence was just that - confident. And confidence is sexy, man. He was confident but not at all in a dick way. It was actually more awkward, he took himself very seriously, and suffice it to say, it was cute and it worked. He looked at me like I was a Christmas tree all lit up, exactly what a girl needs to get over a break-up.

He was fun, never asked me anything about myself so it was easy to keep things light. We had so much flippin' fun, lots of laughs and one great date (GREAT!) that ended with a walk through downtown DC to the Capitol building. We dated for 3 weeks, I think it was, 4 maybe? Not long. Ha. About half a second compared to the mucho-serious relationship I had just ended.

The other thing going on with me that summer was that I knew my grandfather had only a few months left to live. I knew I was going to spend a lot of time with him at the end and that things were about to get tougher than anything I'd ever dealt with. So I basked in that fun, I soaked it up because I knew every moment was like the ticking of a timebomb, every second was a tick-tock closer to something really hard and awful.

I've heard some pretty hilarious things from guys in my life. A guy broke up with me when I was 15 because he said he wanted "to date the whole world." Some too-cool-for-school guy at a party in New York once told me my "soul is real." Whatever that means, it's not a good pickup line, and it didn't work.

When I left DC that summer, I knew things weren't going anywhere with Captain Confidence because, of course, I knew all along they weren't - that's exactly the beauty of light and fun. But I really liked him as a person and hoped we'd be good friends. Anyway, as we were saying goodbye the morning I left, he told me, "I'll make a concerted effort to email you." It was on this quote board my guy friends have in Atlanta that same night...where it stayed until this past November because they had a party and I erased it. Guess they liked that one. (It is pretty funny!)

Needless to say, we kept in contact, you know, through concerted efforts and all. It was actualy great to have him to talk to sometimes because I knew he didn't know me well at all, and for some reason, when I was mourning my grandfather, that was comforting. It felt like an escape. Like a good conversation with a stranger at a bar. He didn't know me so he didn't know how bad I was hurting or how it impacted and changed me, which allowed me to forget all of that for a brief time. We just shared some small talk every now and then.

But, like these things often do, it all blew up in my face. I was going up to DC for Halloween and invited him out with my friends. He was wishy-washy, and then just stopped responding so I got annoyed and sent him a terse email...which opened the floodgates. Evidently, all the time I thought we were friends, he thought I was super into him and was just tolerating my advances. It's not like I was blowing up the guy's phone with texts and calls - I'm scared of commitment, my crazy is on the other end of that spectrum.

But apparently, all it took to give him this impression was to email once a week or once every other week. What else could that mean but that I wanted him baaad? He said he couldn't meet me out because he was dating a new girl and couldn't make out with me which is what I, of course, wanted. And he couldn't introduce her to me because I would be wearing a "sexy" costume...also I guess that meant I wanted him?

That email earned him the Captain Confidence nickname because I forwarded it to one of my friends. I know it sounds snarky to forward an email, but I was sincerely confused and wanted to understand what I did wrong. Instead of getting advice, I got laughter and lots of, "It's not you - it's him!" She thought it was hilarious and showed it to her husband, who said he sounded like the most confident person in the world, i.e. Captain Confidence.

Again, I couldn't say, "Dude, you're not that awesome," so I just told him the truth - I thought we were friends, I want to be friends, I don't have feelings for you. But it's pretty hard to convince someone you're not into them when they think you are. And things were awkward after that. If I email him, will he think it's because I find him irresistible? If I don't email him, will he think it's because I find him irresistible? If I tell him I'm dating someone, will he think I invented a fictional boyfriend to make him jealous? It all just got too ridiculous, and like I said, it's not like he knew me well anyway so I just stopped making a concerted effort to email.

The thing is, he really was a great guy. Kind and smart, all good things. We never built that friendship, but I did get a few good stories and a great new line to use. "I'll make a concerted effort to email you." I did say he looked like McFee from NCIS! Doesn't it sound like something he would say? McGee?

But besides giving me a few laughs, he served an important purpose at a very difficult time in my life. He helped me get over The X and gave a tiny escape from the hell of mourning. Sometimes people come into our world at certain times for certain purposes. And sometimes they leave our world because that purpose is complete. All we can expect from anyone during the brief moment they're in our lives is a concerted effort, right?

Moving On Up

2010-05-18T02:24:00.010-04:00

Ugh. It's 2:24 a.m. and I can't sleep! I always have that problem when I'm super stressed, and man, am I super stressed right now. The worst is my sweet fella is in the next room sleeping like a baby all curled up with my dog. No fair!

So I figured I'd blab to you nice people! Things are still great with my guy...I still don't know what to call him on my blog...My Guy? MG? MG is short and sweet. Alright. So things are going great! I still can't believe my luck. We get along so well and have so much damn fun together. I know I've gushed about him enough in the past year and a half so I'll skip the gushing tonight. We signed a lease together a couple weeks ago...eek!

Pretty huge step for a mega commitment-phobe like me, but it didn't even make me nervous. Just excited! Not only do I get to see my favorite person even more than I already do, but it's also an important next step for us as a couple, and, honestly, for me as a person. But that's not all...

Some time in the next few months, we're getting engaged, and he's not moving in until we are. The excuse is that my mom wouldn't approve unless we were engaged, which is true, but also, it's important to me. I want that next step to really mean something big and to be a serious step forward for our relationship.

I never wanted to be one of those girls that gives her guy an ultimatum or a timeline. We had been talking about moving in together once we were engaged, and I had also been talking about wanting a bigger place so I'm not writing my dissertation on my bed. My lease is up at the first of July so at first I was picking out places that suited my budget and what I was looking for in a place...then MG had all these opinions, and I realized he thought I was picking out a place for the both of us. We talked, and it seems that his timeline for proposing somehow sorta kinda maybe lines up with when I need to move. So we picked out a place together and signed a lease.

It's a little funny because I, of course, have no idea when he's proposing, which means I also have no idea when he's moving into the new apartment. Whenever he talks about furniture or painting the walls, I like to remind him it's my apartment cuz I'm moving into it first. That is important because, as I mentioned, he has opinions, but if I'm in it first, I get to decorate! Although...who knows...

Life is crazy. And I can't stop grinning.

Oops.

2010-04-09T17:07:00.002-04:00

Guys! Sorry! I can't believe it's been SO long since I've written anything. I suck. I keep thinking about things to write, but never have the time to sit down and do it. This semester is rough!

Things are still perfect and dreamy with my sweet boyfriend! I am the luckiest girl in the world. School is good, but busy with grading, writing, researching oh my! I presented at a conference last week, which went well, and get to present at one in Oregon soon then in New York in May. Very exciting! Ooo and San Fran next fall. So things are finally coming together on that end.

I was recently reminded of a guy I dated for about a minute a few years ago when I awkwardly saw his brother at a party. The truth is I have a total girl crush on his brother's wife cuz she's incredible, but as soon as he (the dude I dated, not her husband ew) and I kissed, she peaced out. I kept wanting to say, "But wait...this doesn't mean anything...I'll never talk to him again if it means we can stay together!" Ha. I'll write more on that later, he was hilarious, but the guy totally looks like the nerdy sidekick from N.C.I.S. You know the one, McFee or McGee or something. Aw. I've always been a sucker for nerds!

I'll write more later! Promise!!

Thoughts on Being Stranded in an Airport

2010-01-27T11:23:00.002-05:00

I'm sitting in the Las Vegas airport...and my flight is delayed. My guy flew out here with me last Friday, and we had a marvelous weekend together. Then I stayed for a conference. Lucky for me, this airport has free WiFi. Here are some observations I'd like to share with you.

Pajamas are not to be worn in public. Unless you go to Wal-Mart, that seems to be a common thing there, but nowhere else is it acceptable. Certainly not the airport. If it says "Victoria's Secret," it should remain a secret. And yes, I know those are pajamas because I own a pair.

It's okay for tiny children to sleep in the aisle at the gate. Even cute. It is not okay or remotely cute for 40 year old grown adults. Also, scrunchies went out of style in 1989. So did that shade of turquoise.

Please cover your mouth when you cough and keep your Swine Flu to yourself. Old men are gross.

There's an Amish family, and I just can't stop staring at them. Why are they at an airport? Why do all Amish women have unibrows? Even if I didn't get mine waxed, they wouldn't look like that. Did they really make those dresses by hand? Amazing. I mean, they're ugly, but it's still amazing. I can barely make a sandwich.

Jersey Shore is a cultural phenomenon being discussed by people from all walks of life. Loudly. If I wanted to hear Snooki's whine, I'd turn on the TV.

I see a stranded teddy bear in the aisle next to mine. I want it.

Ew. Another old man coughing. I'm surrounded. I may contract the plague.

The woman sitting behind me literally just rested her head on my shoulder. I have got to get out of here.

If a Small Thing Makes You Angry, What Does That Say About Your Size?

2010-01-08T16:26:00.005-05:00

I'm watching Oprah because I'm home alone, and it's cold as balls outside. I don't even know what that expression means, but it's damn cold. 21 degrees in Hotlanta the last time I checked, and we actually have some snow on the ground.

Oprah just shared something that Maya Angelou told her once. I wish I had Maya to call up when I have a problem or question about life. Maybe my new year's resolution should be to make friends with her. Anyway...

She said: "When someone shows you who they are - believe them."

That is one tall order, but so so true. I have this problem where I always see the best in people. It's a foolish mistake I've made again and again, but I always trust people and believe they can change, I believe in the good that might not really be there. This led me into bad relationship after bad relationship with the wrong guys, but my blind eyes have caused other problems for me as well.

I'm really terrible at confrontation and conflict. Sometimes I find myself wanting to laugh in the middle of an argument because I think angry people can be so funny. Don't they realize how ridiculous they're acting? Or how absurd they sound? Are you really that mad about such a small thing? But no, they don't, and yes, they are.

I've had many conflicts in my life with one person. I've bit my tongue over and over, not wanting to start World War III over something trivial; and I've made excuses every time. What's the use anyway? Any time she's ever apologized to me it's been because someone made her and/or it's come with a caveat. "I'm sorry but...I wasn't feeling well that day" or "I'm sorry but...you made me mad when you did this" Why even bother when someone can't see anything from another person's perspective? Why even bother when she'll always fight longer and cut deeper?

But I always make the mistake of seeing the good in her and trying to forget the bad. I make those excuses for her, I push things out of my mind. The truth is that time and time again she's shown herself to me, and I've refused to believe her.

It is hard to be good. It is hard to do the right thing.

The Bible says to turn the other cheek when someone hurts us, and that always confused me as a child. As an adult, I think it means that when someone hurts you, sometimes the best thing to do is not to fight and not get dragged down to their level. Sometimes you have to walk away from a conflict so that you can respect yourself and salvage your dignity. Sometimes you have to bite your tongue in order to preserve peace, and sometimes you have to hold back because fighting will only make things worse.

She says horrible things to people she loves, she says things on purpose to hurt people, she'll do anything to feel like she's right and that she won the argument. There is no way to win with someone like that because I am not that callous, I am not that cruel, and I don't want to fight dirty just so I can get in a few punches.

I've heard 90% of anger comes from fear. That's another thing that helps me in some situations. When someone is very angry and it seems to come out of nowhere, the truth is that it comes from fear, they're very afraid of something and that fear is manifesting in ugly ways. Sometimes it's easy to figure out what's making them so fearful, sometimes it's not, but that knowledge helps me find sympathy when I'm feeling unsympathetic.

It is hard to be good. And it is hard to see the ugly in someone else. But sometimes you have to.

T.M.I. Thursday

2009-12-03T23:57:00.001-05:00

I have a hilariously inappropriate story to share. (That's a good way to start a post, isn't it?)

To begin with, I live in Georgia, and Georgia is full of icky germy allergy-inducing things. I started taking Allegra-D a few months ago, and it rocks my world. Usually taking just one pill a day works well, but lately I've needed one in the morning and one at night. Anyone who owns a TV knows that prescription drugs have lots of yummy side effects, and one common for Allegra is dry mouth. The thing is "dry mouth" doesn't just mean your mouth is dry...it means other things might lack moisture as well.

Are you following me?

Now I am a girl with a healthy sexual appetite, and thankfully, with a boyfriend quite adept at satisfying said appetite. We have zero problems in the bedroom, and honestly, that's another first for me. Since I enjoy my intimate moments with him so much, I didn't want to let a pesky thing like allergy medicine stand in the way. A friend recommended...and here's where we get personal...KY inserts. They're actually really great. You just use them every four days or so, or while you're taking 2 allergy pills a day, and everything goes smoothly.

There are two kids of inserts. Liquibeads which are like little tiny eggs, and then there's an applicator pre-filled with translucent goop. I've used the beads a couple times, but you get 6 in a box, and they're expensive. For a dollar more, you can buy the pre-filled applicators and get 8 in a box. I'm all for saving money so I decided to try those.

The thing is that I couldn't figure out how to put the applicator together. I know, I'm getting a Ph.D., I should be able to handle this. But seriously! Those drawings are confusing! It's like they're made by IKEA and should come with an allen wrench or something.

So there I am. In the bathroom yesterday - shirt on, pants off. With the instructions lying on the counter in front of me and two pieces of the applicator in my hands. I put them together just like the drawing shows, but the bottom half falls out on the floor. I pick it up, wash it off, and try to insert it again, looking at it closely to make sure the pieces are fitting together right...

And I literally shot myself in the face with lube. It got in my eye and went up my nose.

I felt like I was in a Ben Stiller movie. I had goop all over me. In my hair, on my shirt, and oh yeah, all over my freaking face. The worst was it really burned my eye! And it was hard to wash out! Cuz it's lube and didn't wash out right away with water. I think my eyeball absorbed the lube! I am such a walking disaster. Though when I decide to write a raunchy comedy, that scene is totally going in it.

Thankfully, after I cleaned myself up and re-applied my make-up, the second try worked like a charm. And I made sweet, wet love to my boyfriend that night. Though my nose did feel weird all day like I accidentally snorted water at the pool.

My Good Year

2009-11-30T14:59:00.004-05:00

I'm sorry it's been so long since I've written anything. The past few weeks have been so hectic with school. I turned in a 30 page paper two weeks ago, last week was Thanksgiving of course, and now I have just two weeks left to write two more papers. Busy, busy, busy. And none of it is good. Every semester has been hard, but this one...I don't know what's been so unbearable but it just feels worse. Soon, it will be over, and I'm already taking study breaks to peruse Amazon for fun books to read on the break. There is always a light at the end of the tunnel whether we can see it or not.

The past year has been such a whirlwind. I can't believe it's gone by so fast. The first anniversary of my sweet grandfather's passing came and went. My perfect boyfriend and I celebrated our first anniversary a couple weeks ago with a trip to Baltimore. And next spring will be my last semester taking classes...forever. So much has happened in such a short amount of time.

I am going to marry this man.

What an odd realization. It's not a new one. I've known for several months, and he's known since our very first date. He called his brother on his way home that night. He flew up to Knoxville for lunch after we'd had only a few dates because he flies for free and he missed me. That was last Christmas. Hard to believe it was a year ago.

He's everything I ever dreamed of, everything I ever hoped for and all I ever wanted that I never truly believed existed. Everyone always told me I was waiting for someone too perfect to be real, that my standards were too high and unreasonable, that I wasn't grounded in reality. After awhile, I could see they might be right. I started imagining my life alone, on my own, and really didn't mind the changed future I saw for myself.

The thing is that I've had a lot of heartache in my little life. I've had more struggles than most people I know that are my age. I've never complained. I had a rough childhood in many ways, but really, I had so much love that I made it through things many don't. I got sick ten years ago and learned I may never be well again, but I had so much love in my life that I could see it outweighed anything bad. Love has always saved me, love has always made the difference. So of course lasting romantic love would find me. It didn't need me to believe in it to come.

He's kind. He's thoughtful. And he's so good. He's such a good person I always say he's the best person I know. He's a hard worker, so committed to his friends and family, sweet and funny and such fun to be around. He makes me omelets for breakfast. He takes out the trash without ever being asked. He misses me when we're apart for even a day. He tells me I'm beautiful several times a day. In the morning when we wake up, he tells me he loves me and says, "Good morning, beautiful." He supports me tirelessly, always encouraging, always believes in me and sees more in me than I often see myself. He would do anything for me.

I love being with him. I feel safe, I feel loved, I feel happy and joyful and like I'm breathing for the very first time. Weights are lifted. I can do anything. And I just want to be near him all the time. Very different feelings for someone who always cherished alone time and never let any guy get too close. It was an adjustment, but one that feels natural now.

I often wonder how I got so lucky. It felt too good to be true for so long, but now, I just thank God and pray we can spend long, healthy lives together. It's funny. In other relationships, I've worried about what life will be like "when" we break up (because until now there was no "if"), I've worried that he'll leave me for someone else, that he'll stop loving me, that I'll stop loving him. But with my guy now, the only worry I have is that one of us will die before we're 100.

I don't know when, but I know I will marry this man. This is the love I spent my whole life wishing for. And it's better than I ever imagined it would be. A lot can happen in a year. I can't wait to see what the next one holds.

Say Whaaaat?

2009-11-13T16:35:00.002-05:00

"Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels," Kate Moss tells Women's Wear Daily in a new interview.

Way to advocate eating disorders. For girls that already want to look like Kate Moss, or any supermodel, now she's telling us how. Our society is fucked up.

The F Word.

2009-11-06T00:42:00.006-05:00

I'm a feminist. GASP!

It's such a scary word, isn't it? But if you sit down to think about what being a feminist means, even if you can't use the word, chances are that you'll find you can check every item on the list.

Feminism gave us the most basic civil rights we take for granted now but which were once revolutionary and ludicrous. Feminism gave us the right to vote, and in this country, women were literally beaten and sent to jail for protesting for that right. Feminism gave women the right to divorce their husbands and to own property - not too long ago, women were the property. When a male head of the household died, the money passed along to the next male relative and often women were left with nothing. The property laws changed because there were so many homeless widows it became annoying.

Feminism also gave us recent rights. Feminism gave us maternity leave. Feminism gave us equal pay for equal work. Feminism promotes good self-esteem for girls and raises awareness about eating disorders and body image issues. Feminism points out that women don't look like models airbrushed in magazines and that the media fuels unrealistic expectations of beauty and that's not okay. It provided laws and protection against domestic violence, rape and genital mutilation. Feminism is why we have domestic violence shelters and rape crisis centers. Feminism said "No means no."

This week, I got to meet two of the most outstanding, most renowned feminists. And got to hear them speak! Susan Faludi, who famously wrote a book called Backlash about the media's backlash against feminism. And Gloria Fucking Steinem, who famously did, well, everything. I had the honor of meeting her tonight. I was in utter awe and giddy like a teenage girl meeting that Twilight dude with the hair.

I gushed to my boyfriend about it, about how amazed and excited I was to see them both. Then I said that after finally meeting Gloria Steinem, I didn't know what other amazing feminist I had left to meet. I said that sadly most of them are dead. And then he said, "You can be the next one." I love my boyfriend. He is perfect.

My family finds my politics and my feminism weird. My mom told me years ago to hide all my feminist books because if guys saw them, they wouldn't want to date me. I told her that would be hiding who I am and that any guy that's going to be with me is going to be a feminist. She laughed, but I found him. I love my feminist man. And I love my feminism.

I Don't Want to be the Susan Boyle of Academia...Though At Least She Made It Eventually...

2009-11-03T13:23:00.004-05:00

I didn't sleep well last night. Before I climbed into bed, I submitted a paper abstract for a conference. A major, really awesome, very big deal conference.

Last spring, I submitted two papers for two conferences. And got rejected. Ouch.

A couple months ago, I submitted an abstract for a hugely impressive conference for a large, very popular academic association. It's such a tough conference to get into that renowned scholars even get rejected so I don't hold out much hope that a lowly little grad student like me will be accepted. I'll receive notification in a few weeks, but I'm ok with getting rejected from this one.

The one I submitted to last night, though...I really want. I was so nervous about my submission that I tossed and turned all night, editing the abstract in my sleep. By the time I woke up this morning, I was convinced I made major errors and submitted a poorly structured abstract that didn't do a good enough job of explaining my research project. But there's nothing that can be done about it now. You win some, you lose some.

Growing up, I really struggled with self-esteem. I went through some things as a kid that were hard on my confidence level. I've worked hard to overcome that and build up my self-confidence, but I still waiver.

It's a daily internal struggle. I feel like I'm constantly fighting with myself. I posted last week that I'll be submitting to at least four conferences this fall. I really don't want this process to become some awful self-defeating prophecy. I really want at least one or two successes. I know that won't fix all my problems and that real change will only happen when it starts within myself, but a push in the right direction will certainly help more than it'll hurt. Fingers crossed!

Who Are You? And What Do You Want With Me?

2009-11-02T11:47:00.007-05:00

I was on Carolina Girl's blog the other day and saw that she looked up her keyword analysis on Google Analytics. I figured I'd give it a shot too.

I never visit my analytics page and often forget it's even there. Most the time I just look it up to see how many visits my blog's being getting. I usually don't pay attention to the network location and even when I do glance at it, it doesn't tell me anything interesting. I know where my friends work so sometimes if I see the name of a friend's company, I know they've been visiting. But most the time, it's acronyms I don't understand or generic internet providers like Comcast. But hey, while I'm posting info from my analytics page, why not post it all?

These are the top five network locations for my blog visitors over the past two months:

1. Comcast

2. Road Runner

3. Dixon-Hughes (An accounting firm in Atlanta. Creepy, B!)

4. Cellco

5. Verizon

Keywords are what people search to find your blog. These are my top ten for the past two months:

1. Grab that net and catch that beautiful butterfly

2. Life is a runaway train you can't wait to jump on

3. Love only cares about itself quotes (sad and no it doesn't!)

4. Dating blog frogs (frogs?)

5. Fired alcohol

6. Grab beautiful man (haha!)

7. Losing friendship in your 20s (sad!)

8. Sexy muscle man (funnier than #6)

9. Tennessee Volunteers I wanna hear Rocky Top

10. When do you give up on love

Kinda makes me think I need to re-evaluate what I post on my blog. Love doesn't only care about itself, love is about selflessness. I really don't get that one or why so many people search that. Losing friendship in your 20s is sad, but true, and seems to happen to a lot of people. Something about growing up maybe.

And when do you give up on love? That's a tough one, and I don't know the answer. Some people you never give up on, but with some you just have to let go and move on. I guess that keyword sends people to the blog I wrote after I realized the Awful Ex was right that we weren't really friends. That was hard. It hurts sometimes to see how wrong you are about a person or situation, and it hurt that a friendship with someone I'd known for 15 years was over.

Now I wanna give a shoutout to my top five referring sites, which are all the blogs of my bloggy friends. Thanks for sending people here, and I hope I send people your way too cuz you're all awesome!

1. Life is a Marathon

2. My Dirty Laundry

3. Shine Over Shadow

4. Life Mechanical

5. The Mean Girls' Guide to Glory

Very cool, Google Analytics.

Thanks for visiting my blog! Y'all come back now, ya here?

My Five Senses

2009-10-28T15:05:00.005-04:00

Sight: I love watching my puppy sleep soundly, I love seeing the crinkles form around my boyfriend's eyes when he smiles, I love seeing a clean kitchen after turning it into a huge mess, I love looking out at the still and beautiful lake across from my parents' house because no matter what it calms me, and I love looking around at all the Vol Orange in Neyland Stadium.

Hearing: I love hearing the sound of my mom's laugh, I love the sound of the piano, I love city sounds outside my window like cars whizzing past, sirens blaring and trucks stumbling over potholes, I love hearing my boyfriend say "I love you" especially when it seems to come out of nowhere, I love the sound of the ocean but doesn't everyone, and I love hearing my tiny shih tzu do her "big girl bark" when she hears a sound that scares her.

Smell: My favorite smell is olive oil mmm, I love Glade Plug-Ins, I love the smell of clean clothes coming out of the dryer, I used to love my Papaw's smell but sadly I can't remember it as clearly anymore, I love the smell of good red wine, I love the smell of the mountains after rain and the smell of hotdogs at Yankee Stadium.

Touch: I love touching my legs after a shave, I love running my hands on my boyfriend's back and shoulders, I love using my hands to cook and touching the food with my fingers, I love feeling a sharp knife cut easily through vegetables, I love it when my boyfriend touches me anywhere but mostly when his lips touch mine and it's like time freezes in that moment, I love how the hot sun feels on my skin, and I also love cuddling up with one of my best friends on the couch.

Taste: I could go on and on about my favorite foods but I'll try to pick just a few like steak, ripe tomatoes, peanut butter, melted cheese, I think my most favorite taste of all is a bite into a Patsy's pizza, I love how the taste of saltwater is on your lips hours after you were in the ocean, I love how clean my mouth tastes after I gargle Listerine and I love the taste of cold, domestic, light beer cuz it tastes so good when it hits your lips.

What I'm Up To

2009-10-27T18:39:00.007-04:00

Hi, ya. I'm procrastinating and thought instead of editing a draft that's due tomorrow, I'd post a blog about what I've been doing lately and some favorites.

Favorite TV Shows: How I Met Your Mother, Heroes, The Good Wife, The Office, Private Practice and my new favorite - Glee (love love this show!)

The BF and I both love TV, and we watch a lot together. We also like Chuck and Entourage, but they're not on right now. Ooo and we're in the middle of the 2nd season of The Wire. So good.

Favorite Music: I don't have any new favorite bands, but here are new song I love. Empire State of Mind by Jay-Z, Fireflies by Owl City, Everybody by my fav Ingrid Michaelson, Good Girls Go Bad by Cobra Starship and that Gossip Girl, and I just heard a song called Dollhouse for the first time today that I dug.

Favorite Foods: The BF is a great su chef, but I'm still learning how to share in the kitchen. That's the one place where I want all the control. Haha well, sometimes in the bedroom too! We make an excellent veggie pesto pizza, and I've perfected grits. Perfected. To the point that we're both always disappointed with grits made by anyone else (don't tell his grandma!). His favorite thing that I make is a peach bourbon pork loin. Check it out, y'all. De-lish.

We're going to DC for Halloween yay! I'm a sexy bumble bee because why not? Every girl has to be a sexy something, why not a sexy insect? My friends and I haven't decided yet where we're going, but there has to be dancing, and my only veto is Georgetown. That place is full of tools. I like to joke that The BF has some black in him because he's got such smooth moves. Sadly, I think he's a better dancer than me and I took dance lessons for 13 years.

I just submitted a paper to a conference, and I'm submitting two next week so cross your fingers please! So you know what I do and study, here are some papers I've written. One is on a cable network that's trying to broaden viewership with new programming and promotional tactics. The television industry is fascinating to me, and slowly but surely, I'm becoming an expert. My dissertation will be similar on how traditionally, the cable industry has been about narrowcasting to specific niche audiences, but some are now trying to broaden.

If you're not bored yet, I also do feminist research. A paper I'm submitting next week is on the representation of motherhood on a particular show and what that says about how society (and women in particular) feel about motherhood today, what issues exist on the subject, that kind of thing.

Snooze, right?

In other news, my cute little shih tzu has a Halloween costume too. I saw it on sale at Target for $1 so how could I refuse? It's a princess costume complete with a tutu and one of those pyramid princess hats. Poor dog.

* Thanks to an excellent catch by Irish Chick Soup at Life Mechanical, I made a correction to this post. Check that blog out, by the way, she's a cool chick. And evidently makes Irish soup. ;)

Redheads, Butt Chins and Douche Bags

2009-10-26T14:47:00.021-04:00

Saturday was another awesome night in the A.

BF loves golf, and he's actually pretty good. He and his buddies have two big tournaments every year so he was in Big Canoe this weekend trying to win another trophy. What's a girl to do? Why get drunk with her girlfriends, of course.

Saturday night, I met my friend Lala out at a bar. I named her Lala because she's sweet and peppy like a song. The girl is a ton of fun. She's a redhead so I don't think I even need to tell you how sassy and fiesty she is.

Lala threw an engagment party that night for W, her best friend and roommate. Needless to say, my girl wanted to get hammered after it was over. We started at Atkins Park in the Highlands, and I got there about ten minutes before she arrived. Some fratastic guy with a popped collar kept staring at me, and actually started to say something to me, but I gave him my best stink-eye and he scurried away to hit on a prissy Georgia girl. Phew.

Lala shows up and immediately gets hit on while she's trying to get us beers. Of course, that guy had a googly-eyed friend who wanted to talk to me. Dude had a toupee. A bad one. Ah, I hate being a good wingwoman, but I am the best.

When we get our beers, we walk away like bitches who can't be bothered.

We hang out, drink a few beers, and in an hour, Lala is slurring her words like Keith Richards after he fell out of that coconut tree. A guy she's been seeing starts texting, begging us to meet him and his buddies in Buckhead. Buckhead might as well be called Doucheville it's so full of d-bags, floppy haired guys with croakies and Georgia girls in dresses too fancy for Miller Lite. But again, I am the best wingwoman so I offer to drive.

Lala insists that we take a shot for the road so I ask the bartender for one shot of Vodka-Red Bull and one shot of just Red Bull to fool my friend with. I am also a good designated driver.

On our drive, I watch as the vodka has its way with my friend. The slurring turns to screaming and wooing. She loves my boyfriend, as everyone does because he's the nicest person on the planet, and insists we call him. It's midnight, and after a long day of golf, poker and beer, I'm certain he's either passed out or on his way. She grabs my phone and leaves him a voicemail full of things like: "awe-sommmmmmmme!" "beeeeeeeeer!" and "woooooooooooooo!"

We take a back way that winds us near where the Awful Ex used to live, and I mention that I dated an asshole who used to live nearby. She asks why he was an asshole, because while we've been friends for about 4 years, she didn't know me when I dated him. I tell a couple quick stories of his general shittiness, and the vodka in her gets mad. "Nooooooooo way! That guy sucks and you're awesommmmme." I laugh, and then she asks his name.

Foolishly, I tell her, and she punches it in on her iPhone. Oh, Apple, how much drunk drama have you caused with that contraption? She tells me she wants to find him on Facebook so she can send him a message that she thinks he's way hot and wants to hook up with him. She says it'll be the most hilarious thing ever. At this point, superlatives are the only way she's describing things. Everything and everyone is the most ______ ever. I wish I had drunk enthusiasm when I sat down to write papers.

I laugh while saying, "No, please don't, we don't even talk anymore." She insists that she can be "covert" though in her drunkenness says "co-ver." She shouts, "I found him! I found him!" and shows me a picture of some guy who looks Mexican. I laugh and say that's not him, and she asks me why I don't like Mexicans. The next picture she finds is of a guy getting dry humped by a girl. Also not the asshole. Thankfully, the guy we're meeting texts, and she has something else to fixate her Vodka-Red Bull energy on.

We walk into the bar, see her guy (Air Force cuz he used to be in it), and he buys us beers. Air Force says something about his chin dimple, and I tell him I like it, it makes him look like Buzz Lightyear. Within five minutes Lala falls off the bar stool. Not on the ground, just onto someone. It happens three more times before we leave, and each time she says the chair is broken. She's so cute and charming even when wasted that I start to get mad at the chair for tipping itself over.

We leave around 1:30 because his friends want to go to Hole in the Wall. Hole in the Wall is the cesspool that it sounds like. It's in the basement of a skanky bar and manages to be even skankier. Not to mention it's a good hike, and I'm wearing cute (thus uncomfortable) shoes. As we're walking, Lala tries to talk Air Force into ditching his friends and going to a closer bar with us. She says she knows a bartender. He's thinking it over, and I sing the Georgia Tech fight song to persuade him. He's a Tech fan too, and my rendition wins him over. A drunken stranger walked by and clapped for me so I know it was good. Also, Lala promises he can stay at her place that night, but I'm sure my team spirit made all the difference.

We bar hop a little more, never find Lala's bartender friend, and the whole time I'm impressed she's still standing. You know those big balloons that have streamers as arms and legs and walk around the room by themselves? They bob up and down while swaying from side to side. That's what Lala looked like by 2 a.m. She tripped a few times and kicked over a beer bottle at one point and almost got thrown out. Ever resourceful, my fiesty redheaded friend tells the bouncer another girl did it. He raises an eyebrow, but she's too cute to argue with and stumbles past him.

It's 2:30 and almost closing time. We're sitting at the bar, and I watch the female bartender fight with a drunk asshole. He's suited up, but his tie is loose and crooked. His shirt has one corner untucked, and he's a hot mess. I hear the bartender say, "No, honey, you have your card. I gave your card back to you." He mumbles something, and she says, "No, see here? These are the receipts. I already charged you so you have your card. See? That's your name? And that's your signature there. See? That's where you didn't tip me." He mumbles again, crumples up the receipt and stumbles a foot or two away. The bartender winks at me and rolls her eyes.

A guy behind me asks me what his chances are with taking her home. I say not good because she's hot and drunk guys probably do that every night. He says, "Yeah, but I have a butt chin," and shows it off for me. Buzz Lightyear again! To infinity and beyond! I laugh, telling him he looks like a cartoon. He rolls his eyes laughing and says, "And I have a good sense of humor too, right?" I agree, and he asks the bartender what his chances are at taking her home. She tells him she's married to the guy on the other end of the bar. He shrugs.

I make the mistake of thinking he's with The Suit and say, "You know, even if she was single, your buddy here would have ruined your chances because he didn't leave her a tip." He turns to The Suit and says, "You didn't tip her?" The Suit shrugs and says, "Yeah. So what? I don't have to leave a tip." I turn away because Air Force thinks it's time to take our drunken redhead home. I agree, and as I grab my bag, I hear Butt Chin call The Suit a douche bag and hear The Suit tell Butt Chin, "Yeah, well, you like to suck cock. You like dick in your mouth." I'm astounded at his agreement that he is in fact a douchebag while also take offense at his insinuation that there's something wrong with liking to give blowjobs.

I ask Butt Chin if they're friends, and both guys get angry at my presumption. They are not friends, they are mortal enemies. Butt Chin is defending the honor of the bartender that rejected him, and The Suit is angry at life in general. As we walk out the door, I see a bouncer try to break them up because they're shouting in each other's faces and shoving each other. I totally started a bar fight.

I drive Air Force and Lala back to her condo, but since she passed out in the car, I'm pretty sure he didn't get lucky. Chalk up another point for Alcohol, King of Good Times and Bad.

Cheater, Cheater, Pumpkin Eater

2009-10-21T13:02:00.016-04:00

I've never cheated on anyone, though I have been cheated on. I'm not exactly sure what cheating is. Physical contact? Physical contact and/or emotional feelings? I had a friend whose fiancé broke up with her, then immediately started dating one of their mutual friends. I don't believe this guy cheated physically, but I do believe he cheated emotionally. Not sure which is worse.

The Awful Ex sent me chocolates while he had a girlfriend, told me she didn't challenge him like I did, he didn't feel for her what he felt for me, that I was "the greatest love he'd ever known" (literally sent that in a drunk text), blah, blah, blah...not technically cheating, but it wouldn't make her feel good if she knew about it either.

Recently, a married friend confessed that she still talked to her ex-boyfriend. She said that she searched him online every once in awhile and kept in touch just to get a glimpse of the life she could have had. Not cheating, right? But she also said that her husband had no idea she was still in contact with the ex or even knew anything about his life right now. Is deception cheating?

When The BF and I started dating, I was in regular contact with three ex-boyfriends. Now I only talk to one, T, and The BF has met him a few times, we double date with him and his girl every couple months or so. It's nice. He's a super great guy. I've already blogged about why the Awful Ex and I aren't speaking, and that's no big loss.

The most recent, X, and I dated off and on for 3 years. It was the most serious relationship, and the best, that I'd had before my current BF. We knew each other so well, we were super close and shared everything. It was hard to bounce back and be good friends again after we broke up last May, but we made efforts. We saw each other a few times, talked on the phone, texted, emailed, albeit never frequently.

In February, BF and I were out with friends, and we ran into X and about ten of his friends. I had just talked to X on the phone two weeks before, and everything was cool. I went outside to talk to X and his friends, but he just grunted and walked past me. Two or three of his friends stayed outside with me, catching up, for about 15 or 20 minutes. The entire time X and two girls stood on the sidewalk a block away staring at us. Creepy.

I hadn't told X that I was dating someone because I didn't want to hurt his feelings and only wanted to tell him once it was serious, which had just happened. But he hadn't told me he was dating anyone either, and evidently one of the two girls on the sidewalk with him that night was his girlfriend. A couple months later, they moved in together so I assume it had been serious for awhile. I was the one that ended things, and he actually cried when I broke up with him, so I feel like I had good reason to be concerned about him getting hurt. Not sure why he didn't tell me, but ah well.

After that, we emailed a little bit, but then in May, I went to a friend's birthday party and he was there with his girlfriend. He acted like we were strangers. And since then, he's emailed and texted again like things are fine, but I don't get it. I didn't respond the last time. I want to be friends, but friends don't ignore each other in public. Maybe he doesn't want his girlfriend to know we're friends? Maybe she feels uncomfortable around me and that's why he ignores me?

Either way, it's weird and sad. I really miss being friends with him. I miss talking to him and goofing off. That's breaking up, I know, but I still miss him. The thing is that there weren't a million things wrong with him or with us as a couple, there were just a few. A few big things, but in so many ways, we were compatible. I've thought about emailing him, asking what's all this been about, telling him I still care about him and want to be friends. I feel guilty, but every once in awhile, I find myself comparing X and BF, thinking, "Well, X did that with me," or "X liked ______, I wish BF did."

Is it cheating? No. Would emailing him be? Or restarting our friendship? No. But still maybe a grey area too, and as icked out as I was when my friend told me she still talks to her ex without her husband's knowledge, I want to stay out of grey areas. I want to make a clean break from the past, I don't want to take any steps backward, I only want to step forward into my future.

Mustaches are Making a Comeback!

2009-10-20T15:06:00.007-04:00

Yay! The weekend was perfect. The Yellow Jackets even beat the No. 4 team in the country! I love it when underdogs win. Especially when they're my underdogs.

My boyfriend's best friend, whom he describes as his "funnest friend," has created the best bar game. I'll call him Captain Mustache or 'Stache for short.

It began when 'Stache and his wife went to Savannah with The BF, myself along with my best friend and her husband. We were at Wild Wings in the City Market listening to a band play the greatest hits of the 90s and re-living the awesomeness that was high school. We pause for a moment of silence that Blink 182 put out one awesome album and broke up.

All six of us were happy drunk and dancing. 'Stache's wife and my best friend start talking to the roadie traveling with the band because they want to know why he has a coffin tattooed on his neck and if it hurt. "Because I'm fascinated with death" and "Yes." The next thing I know, 'Stache holds his index finger up to his nose revealing a black mustache he drew on with a marker. He's got one eyebrow raised and a big grin. We all passed the marker around until everyone had a mustache.

The next stop was the piano bar in Savannah. We all walk in and flash the doorman our mustaches. He laughs and waves us past without asking for the cover charge. "Come on in, funny drunk people!"

Friday night at RiRa in Atlanta, the mustache came out again. This time, it was me and The BF, 'Stache and his wife, and my bf's other best friend and his girlfriend. Hilarity. We kept flashing strangers our mustaches, even made one take a photo of us all, and probably scared the living daylights out of our poor waiter because every time he came to our table, all six of us flashed our 'staches like it was a stick-up and finger mustaches were our only weapons.

We have more mustache pictures than of anything else all night. The BF and I agreed that when we get married, we're making the bridal party sport finger mustaches in a formal photo. The idea has "mantel piece" written all over it, and I really can't wait to force my prissy cousin to join in hee hee! But come on, everyone knows mustaches are badass.

Boyfriend Birthday Bonanza!

2009-10-15T15:38:00.007-04:00

Now, if you don't mind my bloggy friends, I would like to mush a bit.

My super awesome boyfriend's birthday is this Saturday, and I'm so excited! We've been together not quite a year so this is the first time we'll celebrate it together - the first of many.

I've planned everything perfectly. He did a great job throwing me a birthday party a few months ago, we went to some of my favorite spots in Atlanta, and the best part of it all was that one of my very best friends surprised me! She came in from out of town, and her visit totally made the birthday. He didn't exactly arrange it, she's just super great and loves me, but it was his idea to invite every one of my friends - even the out-of-towners. I told him that was silly, no one would come in for it, but someone very special did!

So in an effort to surprise him with some of his favorite people too, I've arranged for us to meet up with his two best buds on Friday night. And he has no idea! One friend is coming in from Charleston. He knew he'd get to see Best Bud #1 at Georgia Tech on Saturday, but I talked him into coming in early on Friday as a special birthday surprise. Best Bud #2 is getting his MBA from Emory and is a study-aholic. The bf didn't expect to even get a chance to see this one! I'm quite proud of myself, as you can see.

We're going to dinner at a trendy, new sushi place because he loves sushi. Then I'm going to insist that we go to the Irish pub next door, RiRa, which At Least I'm Skinny just blogged about. That's where the best buds will be hiding out. Surprise! I can't wait.

Saturday, we're going to cheer on the Yellow Jackets as, fingers crossed, they whoop on some Hokies from Va Tech. Yep. A battle of the Techies. Aw, but I love my nerd. And I love that his team is not in the SEC. I especially love that he is not a terrible Georgia fan. They're so awful. To my first Tech game (he has season tickets), I wore a shirt that said, "I don't like Georgia fans." On the back, was the Tech logo. I was a smash hit, of course.

But it's true. Georgia fans are the pits. I don't know which are worse - the boys or the girls - but the girls really annoy me. Don't get me wrong, there are definitely exceptions to the rule, and I have a few good friends that are female dogs (hee hee). But for the most part...they're spoiled prisses who wear sundresses and high heels...to a football game. Most of them could care less about football. They don't watch College GameDay, they don't even know their team's schedule or roster, yet they'll swear up and down that they love the Bulldogs. Turn a game on, and watch the boredom wash over them. And the guys, yick. They're just rude rednecks...though I'll concede I've seen a couple rude redneck Tennessee fans myself. Remember the ex that was creepily stalking my blog?

But I digress. Point is, I love that my man loves college football and that his team never plays mine. He looks hot in orange too, I'd like to add. And sings a mean Rocky Top. We've been to three UT games this season, and I just love watching him cheer on my team. And I like cheering on his too. We certainly both agree about Georgia fans. Go Jackets!

After the game, we're going out to celebrate again. Probably the Highlands this time, which is full of d-bags, but it don't matter as long as I'm with my man. Sunday night, we're heading to the Dome to watch the Atlanta Falcons beat up the Chicago Bears. We love football.

I'm also baking some yummy red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese icing for the bday tailgate. Ooo and you know his gift rocks. He's been talking for several months about wanting to go to Baltimore so we're going. Dinner on the Harbor of decadent crab cakes that melt in your mouth, a sweet little trolley tour, finished off with kickass seats to watch the Ravens take on the Colts. Did I mention we love football?

I am excited about our fun weekend plans, but I'm mostly just excited to have a reason to celebrate him. He's the best person I know. He makes me happier than I ever thought I could be, and I just want to thank him. I've never made it to a year with anyone, even though I've had a couple long term relationships, they were off-and-on. I've never wanted to be with anyone this much or this consistently. He's a dream come true. And so his birthday should be too.

Blah.

2009-10-14T15:55:00.002-04:00

I have nothing interesting to say! I can either complain profusely about how busy I am with school this semester and how much I hate my classes. Or I can spew out lovey-dovey mush about how awesome and perfect my boyfriend is. Neither topic is interesting. But my brain seems totally consumed with only those two thoughts. Sigh.

My last post was about some huge, exciting research news about an illness I have. I don't talk about being sick, I don't like talking about it, I don't even like acknowledging it. Most of my friends don't even know actually. It's not that I have anything to be ashamed about, I know I don't. It's just not a good feeling to admit that something's wrong with you, and I'd much rather continue letting everyone treat me as though I'm perfectly fine and normal. Also, I really hate explaining it to people. I hate the name of the disease. I hate that there hasn't been enough research conducted and that not enough people (including doctors) understand it.

I have a friend who has diabetes. It's not something she advertises either, but it's something that she does have to tell people every once in awhile if she's eating with them. As soon as she says, "i have diabetes," the conversation can end there. Everyone knows what it is. Everyone knows how it works and how it affects people. We're taught about it in health class, and most people know someone or have known someone who has it. I am not diminishing diabetes or any other illness. I know how serious it is. But I do wish that my conversations about having what I have would go as smoothly and as simply. (Not that hers always do, of course.)

"Tired" is subjective. No one knows what that means. I hate explaining just how tired I am or how my disease makes me feel. The worst is when people joke that they have it too. Annoying! It's not like if I said, "I have arthritis," anyone would say, "Oh yeah! I think I do too because sometimes my joints ache." It's a stupid named illness that confuses even doctors. Blah. So I don't like talking about it. But I was so excited about the research, I just had to share it. I sent the article to my mom and boyfriend and posted it here for all of you nice people. Maybe little things like that can help spread awareness.

Thank God every day for your health. I still do.

Major Health News

2009-10-09T12:04:00.001-04:00

Retrovirus May Be at Root of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome

Study finds two-thirds of those with the mysterious illness infected with XMRV

Posted October 8, 2009

By Amanda Gardner
HealthDay Reporter

THURSDAY, Oct. 8 (HealthDay News) -- About two-thirds of patients with chronic fatigue syndrome sampled in a recent study were infected with a retrovirus called XMRV

The finding, albeit preliminary, has raised hopes that there might be a concrete cause for the mysterious malady and thus, down the line, treatments for the disease.

"This study does not prove that XMRV is the cause of chronic fatigue syndrome, however it does suggest it is a viable candidate for a cause," said Robert H. Silverman, co-author of a report appearing online Oct. 8 in Science.

"But if it can be proven that the virus causes the disease, that would be a breakthrough in diagnosing, combating and preventing the disease," added Silverman, a professor of cancer biology at the Cleveland Clinic Lerner Research Institute. "There could be an antiretroviral drug that could prevent this virus from replicating."

Another expert was similarly hopeful.

"This article could give a spark of hope, one, that chronic fatigue syndrome is caused by something, and two, if that bears out, maybe we could do something about it," said Dr. Tamara Kuittinen, an emergency physician with Lenox Hill Hospital in New York City.

Chronic fatigue syndrome was first recognized in the late 1980s and initially dubbed the "yuppie flu," resulting in an enduring credibility crisis.

Some segments of the medical community do not believe it is a discrete illness because there is no known cause, and diagnosis can only be made through excluding other conditions, such as depression.

"There's no test, no clear etiology, the symptoms are vague, there's no treatment and no cure," said Kuittinen. "It's very frustrating."

Possible explanations for the disease have been far-reaching, ranging from different viruses, including Epstein-Barr, enteroviruses and herpes, to childhood trauma.

The illness affects an estimated 1 percent of people worldwide and, as its name implies, involves crippling fatigue as well as aching joints, headaches and variousother symptoms.

Recently, XMRV was detected in prostate cancer patients and in prostate tumor biopsies. Like other retroviruses, it can activate latent viruses in the body, such as Epstein-Barr, which has been linked to chronic fatigue syndrome.

For this study, researchers analyzed 101 blood samples taken from patients with chronic fatigue syndrome and found the virus in 68 of the samples, as compared with only eight samples in 218 healthy patients (67 percent versus 3.7 percent).

Although 3.7 percent seems a small proportion, the authors do note that this could mean millions of people are infected with a virus whose effects are as yet unknown.

Retroviruses, a group that includes both XMRV and HIV, have genomes made of RNA instead of DNA.

"When the virus infects cells, the RNA gets copied into the DNA, then the DNA inserts itself or integrates into the host DNA," explained Silverman. "One of the many problems with infections with retroviruses is that it's very difficult to actually cure the patient because the virus DNA becomes part of the infected person's DNA. Patients need to continually take drugs to keep it from replicating."

XMRV is simpler than HIV, though, Silverman added, which is a good thing. "It's a kind of stripped down version of a retrovirus. It has just the genes required for infection and replication. We could probably stop it with an antiretroviral drug."

There's also the possibility that a vaccine would prevent people from being infected in the first place.

But, stressed Silverman, "there are lots of qualifiers because it hasn't actually been proven that it causes disease, although the evidence looks pretty intriguing. This is an area that needs more research."

If You Don't Have Anything Nice to Say...Come Sit By Me

2009-09-27T17:41:00.007-04:00

Have you seen previews for that new movie The Invention of Lying? It looks hilarious and has a star-studded cast, as they say. The premise is that no one in the world lies. They just tell the ugly truth bluntly all the time. I saw a preview where a waiter walks up to their table in a restaurant and says, "I can't believe I work here. You're pretty. Too pretty for your date. Can I take your order?"

Sometimes it's good to lie. "No, you don't look fat in that." "Yes, I did all my homework." "I'm sorry." (Isn't the worst when someone says - "I'm sorry you think that" or "I'm sorry you're upset" Empty apologies are infuriating!)

And sometimes, you just wish you could tell the absolute truth with zero consequences.

Sometimes I'm too honest, and sometimes not honest enough. I guess that's a fence most of us straddle delicately. As I've said before, I'm not good at fighting. After a fight with someone, I usually kick myself for the dozens of things I should have said but didn't. I think of great comebacks and snarky zingers that I didn't think to say or maybe didn't have the guts to say. Probably the latter. And I always take things personally, even when someone I don't like doesn't like me or when someone says something that I know isn't true, it hurts.

There are people I know and have known that I sometimes have the urge to tell the truth to. "When you said that, it really hurt me." "I think the real reason you're upset about this is that you have dangerously low self-esteem." "The reason I stopped talking to you was because I think you're a bad person."

You can't say these things. I mean, some people do, but most of us who want to keep our friends keep our mouths shut. The classic example, I think, is when you don't like your friend's boyfriend/girlfriend. You keep your mouth shut because you hope your friend will figure it out on their own and you want to keep the friendship. Any story I've heard about someone being honest about whether or not they like the person their friend is dating has ended badly.

That's happened to me a few times, though I never ended a friendship over it. No one liked the Awful Ex because he always acted like such a jackass and a few of my friends had the unfortunate experience of actually seeing one of his temper tantrums. Not a good way to win them over, buddy. I did date one guy that a lot of my friends liked, but one...eh, not so much. She only expressed her disapproval once, but that was all it took.

See, the truth is that rather than being bold and honest, I actually clam up. I made a point not to talk to her about him because I knew I'd never get a fair audience.

One of my good friends just got engaged (yay!), and a week ago, she and her fella were in NYC visiting friends. One night, they went out with his sister and one of her good guy friends...who happened to be an ex. There were a few other people there, but at the end of the evening, her friend started hitting on her boyfriend's much younger sister. Creepy. She pulled him aside politely and said it was making her uncomfortable. He said no problem, then stepped up his game by rubbing the sister's back, playing with her hair, whispering into her ear.

They ended up leaving the bar, and she decided her friend was an asshole. He was obviously trying to upset her, which friends just don't do, so that's that. She said, "Maybe because I'm dating ____ right now and he's so great, and that's why I never saw it before, but I think my ex might actually just be a bad person." She decided rather than have it out with him, she'd just stop talking to him.

Maybe that's why I didn't respond to the Awful Ex's stupid email. Maybe that's why I moved out instead of fighting again with that terrible girl in college. Maybe that's why I gave up on a friendship in DC a few years ago. We should only share our lives with good people, we should put in effort where it's reciprocated, and we should weed people out of our lives who don't deserve to be there.

Sometimes we don't say things because it's just not necessary. Sometimes we don't start a fight because we already know the ending. Sometimes keeping your mouth shut is better than using the best zingers anyone could ever think of. And maybe that's what distinguishes the good people from the rest.

These Grouchy Pants Make My Ass Look Big. Or Make Me Look Like an Ass.

2009-09-12T14:28:00.004-04:00

I'm fuckin' grouchy.

I don't know what it is. I guess the stress is getting to me. This semester is positively going to be the hardest yet. I haven't had a semester with so much work. I have an average of two papers due every week, and just thinking about it is making me more irritable and angrier. I'm used to having more to do than is possible to get done, but nothing close to the amount of work facing me in the next 3 1/2 months. And it all just makes me feel less like myself. And less like anyone else.

My jaw is clenched, I'm having trouble sleeping, I think I have a permanent scowl, and I really just want to be grumpy and all alone. The bf is being, as usual, absolutely perfect, which is also for some inexplicable reason irritating. I'm so ridiculously grouchy I can only laugh at myself.

Last night, we went to dinner with his friends. In total, there were ten of us. I like his friends, I do. They're kind and always make an effort to talk to me and make me feel welcome. But I also feel hella uncomfortable around them. They've been friends for 12 years. They're all married to their college sweetheart. And they've only lived in Atlanta and nowhere else. Honestly, I find it all a bit creepy. I'm the person I am today because I left home. I'm also the person I am today because I had several years to be on my own and really get to know myself.

I feel so judgmental and awful about these feelings, but I can't help it. I just think it's all so weird. I don't know people like this, who never left home, who've spent every weekend with the same people for more than a decade straight. There's really nothing wrong with it, they're good people, but it still just creeps me the F out.

I have two friends who married their college sweethearts. They're old friends and friends I see once a year and probably talk to two or three times a year. One of them married a guy she started dating at 19. But then at 22, she moved 8 hours away from him to a city and state far from anyone familiar. Three years later, they got married and he joined her, but she still had those years of independence to explore herself and experience something challenging and new. The other friend started dating her husband at about 21, and after college, they moved across the country together and lived in California for a few years. Then they moved again, this time to Texas, and after a couple years there, they got married. Yes, they experienced these changes together, but at least they took a chance on themselves and did something out of the ordinary.

The word that comes to mind is "cute." It's cute that his friends have been with their spouses since they were 19 or 20. It's cute that they live in the same town they grew up in and will probably never live anywhere else. It's cute that their social lives still revolve around the same group of friends that they did at 18. It's like an old movie or TV show or something. It's old-fashioned and traditional and conventional...and creepy.

The worst of it all really is that every time I'm with them, it's always in a large group, and they always reminiscence about people and events that I know nothing about. After they share a few good laughs, someone will notice that I'm staring around blankly and between fits of laughter, they'll recount the "hilarious" story to me. I'm always on the outside looking in. And I always will be. Part of me doesn't care, I think to myself, "Well, I'm never going to know all these stories, I'm never going to be part of this group, and I'm never going to be as close with them as they are with each other."

Last night, out of ten people seven of them went to college together. And the other two went to nearby colleges and started dating someone in the group when they were 19. And then there's me, the ultimate outsider. They tease me for being a Tennessee fan, for going to a different college. It makes me want to scream that most people in the 21st century don't marry someone that went to their own college.

The other part of me pushes me to continue trying, to stay positive, to not let any of it get me down. Because I love him, and I want to spend the rest of my life with him. Which means I'll also spend it with them. Eventually, they have to stop talking about the good old college days, right? Right?

My only real consolation is that even though my special someone also never left the city in which he was raised, he knows there's something wrong with that and is eager to move somewhere new. Before we met, he tried hard to move to California because it was far away from everything familiar. And just last week, he very seriously asked me if we could live in New York. He loves it there and has been talking about moving there for awhile. My answer? "Yes, yes, yes!"

Anyone see a trash can? I need to throw away my grouchy attitude and put on a smile.

I Miss You, Manhattan

2009-09-11T17:17:00.011-04:00

I miss Gristedes and its miniature aisles and miniature shopping carts.

I miss skyscrapers and a real city skyline.

I miss Smalls, JJ's Diner, B-Bar, Brother Jimmy's, St. Mark's, the Chelsea Hotel and East Sixth's Indian Row.

I miss hailing cabs.

I miss brunch every Sunday no matter what.

I miss walking on city streets on busy days and energetic evenings.

I miss everyone wearing black.

I miss street fairs.

I miss jackets in September...sort-of.

I miss the smells! I'm not a good sniffer. My answer is always, "No," to "Ew! Do you smell that?!" but NYC I can smell. I miss the smell of the subway and the leather of the cabs. I miss the smell of Gray's Papaya and Ray's slices.

I miss the flower stalls on the corner and the flaky croissants from the street vendors.

I miss the pigeons!

I miss street performers that are actually talented.

I miss endless possibilities.

I miss never being alone.

I miss the corner store.

I miss bridges that look like works of art...instead of concrete monstrosities painted yellow.

I miss small artsy theater and bars with gimics.

I miss nights out in the Bowery and SoHo on Saturday afternoons.

I miss you, Manhattan, and I promise to visit soon. Cheers to you and your inextinguishable spirit eight years later.

Things Teachers Hate

2009-09-04T08:48:00.008-04:00

1. Asking "Is this going to be on the test?"

2. Asking "Are you going to give us a study guide?"

3. Asking "Do I really have to buy the textbook?"

4. When students put their heads on their desk and close their eyes like we're playing Heads Up, 7-Up, and then scowl at me angrily when I wake their lazy asses up. Because I'm bothering them.

5. Falling asleep in class is less annoying than checking Facebook or writing emails.

6. Getting ridiculous emails at the end of the semester that simply read: "hey prof can you change my grade from a c+ to a b-?"

7. Note the lack of capital letters or punctuation in #5. We hate that too. By the way, "you" is not spelled "u." Text speak isn't the way real people talk.

* Sadly, all very true stories.

Airing Dirty Laundry

2009-09-02T15:35:00.020-04:00

First, thank you to everyone who responded to my poll last week. And I'm pretty sure it worked as a polite warning so thanks. It's always good to hear your opinions and get your advice. My internet friends are just like real friends! Kinda funny, but true. I've caught myself telling a story a few times that happened to "a friend" and realizing that I actually read it on one of your blogs!

Besides mentioning it here, I also told some friends that the Awful X posted an antagonistic comment. I can't say his name to anyone I know without hearing a chuckle or seeing a dramatic eye roll. First tip a guy's a loser - no one you introduce him to likes him. That used to bother me. I'd defend him or I'd feel uncomfortable, but now I just laugh and roll my eyes with them.

Truthfully, I've been doing that for quite a while. It's just that things with him were so bad that looking back they just seem hilariously absurd. Really? He really did that? I kept dating him? Geez. It used to be so embarrassing, but now it's easy to laugh at because I don't recognize the person I was when I was with him anymore. It feels like I'm just laughing at someone else.

Examples. He once had a party and didn't invite me. Though also didn't give a second thought to telling me all about it the next day. We went to a festival in the middle of downtown, and I got separated from the group (I also got drunk but we all were). I didn't know my way around town at all, and security forced us out an exit we didn't enter at so I was truly lost. My phone stopped working because it got wet so I called him 4 or 5 times from other people's phones. He kept telling me I was drunk and bothering him, then he'd hang up on me. Keep in mind, I was lost in downtown Atlanta. Not exactly Mayberry, y'all. I finally found my way with the help of a kind cop. I still think about that night with chills. I'm so grateful nothing bad happened to me.

He stood me up maybe a dozen times. The worst was when he made me go to two concerts for work by myself. I still stayed at his place that night, but from the time I walked in to the time I walked out the next morning, he didn't kiss me once. Ouch.

After we broke up and stopped talking, I was with one of my best friends in New York when he sent her a text. He happened to be in town at the same time and texted her to meet him at his hotel. She said no, and he kept trying to persuade her, even asking her to bring alcohol to his hotel room. Finally, she (meaning me because of course by this time I was sending the texts) said, "What about Penny?" His response: "What she doesn't know won't hurt her."

I could keep going, but I won't. I'm sure you've got the picture. I left out the most private, most hurtful things like when I was crying about my sick grandfather and he told me to shut up. Those are still difficult to talk about.

And I should also add that this isn't entirely his fault because I could have (and should have) walked away at any point. Eventually with a few grand gestures, he apologized months later. It was genuine and heartfelt, I believe. We tried to be friends for 3 or 4 years. I know, I know, but we'd known each other since we were 12. And I knew that I was a different person when we dated so maybe the same was true for him. He said he changed, and I loved him. I knew him inside and out and...believed in him, believed he could change. Famous last words.

Back in January, he sent me an email and said we were never really friends. At first, that hurt because I tried so hard and even then still believed in the good in him. But then I recognized this old pattern and knew that for whatever reason, he was trying to hurt me. I started thinking and realized that for the past several years, I've continued to make excuses for him.

The past few years he'd been dating the same girl. After their first 6 months together, he paid about $75 to mail a box of Godiva chocolates to my work. He used to say the most awful things about her. He told me more than a few times that he wanted to break up with her but couldn't because he traveled a lot and she watched his dog when he was gone. He said he'd have to give the dog to his parents without that so he had to keep dating her because she was a good dogsitter. Once I asked him what kind of music she liked. He told me she liked whatever he told her to like. Another time he told me that she didn't challenge him at all, that she didn't challenge him like I did.

I realized that I gave up on him about a year before we stopped talking. In December of 2007, we went to the SEC championship together. Our team lost, and he tried to start a few fights with fans from the opposing team. He does that a lot and always brags about it later. It was embarrassing, and if he wasn't wasted I would have left him there. When he gets drunk, it's toooo drunk, you know? He stumbles, stutters and slurs. Anyway, I actually got a little afraid that he'd say or do something to the wrong person.

Later that night, he told me that his girlfriend (who, he boasted, was once on Girls Gone Wild) was still young and adventurous enough that he was trying to talk her into having a threesome. He said she was his one real shot at ever having one then he bragged about other things he'd talked her into doing in the bedroom. A couple hours later the poor girl joined us as did one of my friends and a couple of his. He tried to start a fight in the bar over the game then announced to us all that his girlfriend gave terrible blowjobs.

And I realized he hadn't changed at all. I tried to keep my distance after that, and I'm sure it was something he picked up on. He's right. We weren't really friends. I just gave up.

I don't know if all those things were some kind of show he put on for me, that maybe he couldn't let me know that he was happy and in love with a wonderful girl. But regardless, it's pretty awful stuff and would certainly break her heart if she knew. I don't know if any of it was real, if any of it was who he really is. I don't know if I ever knew him at all.

I used to feel like I deserved how he treated me, that I had done something to cause it or bring those bad things out in him. And who knows, maybe I do. I thought that he hated me and that's why he was always so hurtful. Maybe he's perfectly kind to everyone else and only ugly to me. I doubt that, of course, because before he was with me, he did something (he would never tell me what) that sent him to anger management classes. And another girl took a restraining order out against him.

I hope he's completely changed. I hope he's a different person. I hope that for whatever reason maybe I was what brought all that out in him, and now that we're not speaking, he's a brand new man. And I truly hope he finds all the happiness he's ever searched for. I'm just thankful that for the first time, I can see clearly and that I don't ever have to hear from or talk to him again. I'm relieved that he's out of my life forever. Peace be with you, go with God.

Sigh. It's a real relief getting all this out, putting it all together like this.

* Hey, Dixon-Hughes, get a life and stop stalking my blog. It's weird and you're creeping me out.

Facebook is the Devil.

2009-09-02T13:56:00.006-04:00

That's right, I said it. Just like foosball and little girls - Facebook is the devil and the Internet is the devil's playground.

I joined Facebook a few months ago under pressure from school friends who are on it constantly. I didn't cave until I realized that there were parties and happy hours I never heard about because I wasn't on Facebook. And I ain't a girl that ever misses a party. Or a happy hour.

At first, it was this weird complicated maze I didn't know how to navigate. It was mysterious requiring "technological savvy" to work like my boyfriend's SmartPhone (what kind of name is that for a product?!). Someone sent me a "note" and I literally looked it up on Google. It took me almost an hour to figure out how to reply. I got so annoyed that I stopped going on Facebook altogether because it frustrated me too much.

Then people started posting pictures and bugging me about looking at them. I got sucked back into the vortex. Really, Facebook is more of a cult than the devil. A cult full of friends and half-strangers who get called friends by meaningless social networking rhetoric.

I hated MySpace because total randoms found me even though I hadn't seen or talked to them in fifteen years. It was creepy. But now I'm a creepy random! I started thinking about old friends and wondering what happened to them and now we're "Facebook friends" with all the ambiguity that goes along with it. I can waste hours playing around on that thing, laughing at friend's status updates or wacky videos without even realizing time has passed.

It's depressing, really. I thought I was smart and cool. Now I'm just creepy and lazy. Curses and drat!! (fist shaking wildly in the air!)

Forgiveness is the Attribute of the Strong.

2009-08-26T12:10:00.007-04:00

You know Tyson Beckford? The "ridiculously good-looking" male model? I saw him cry on Oprah a few years ago. He was in a really bad hit-and-run and almost died. His car exploded, it was crazy. The crying I can understand, but one thing stuck with me. He was crying and asking, "What did I do to deserve this? Why did he do this to me?" and I just thought it was absurd. Silly model, he didn't target you. The truck driver wasn't trying to kill you. It was an accident.

Do you ever feel like you've been hit by a car?

I'm not great with conflicts. I just don't understand them most of the time because I'm not one to get upset or angry easily. I'm quick to forgive and have given more than a few people ten more chances than any sane person would have. When someone does something that upsets or hurts me, I usually never mention it. I just get over it on my own or I take a few moments of distance. I'm not passive-aggressive, though I really enjoyed Chelsea's take on that. I just don't like fighting and most of the time never see a need to do it.

I think in the past year or so I've changed in some ways. It's been almost exactly a year since my sweet grandfather passed, and I know that the experience impacted me in major ways. One change I've noticed is that...I don't even know how to put this. I tolerate less. I think that's it. I put my foot down every once in awhile even in small ways that maybe only I'm aware of. My mom got drunk last summer and told me that the reason I've always been picked on by other people is that I'm a runt. She meant it to be funny, but she's right. And I don't want to be a runt anymore.

Every time I have a conflict with anyone, I obsess about it. I overanalyze it. I try to do whatever it takes to alleviate the problem. I apologize or I allow people to explain themselves. Often both. But sometimes people don't want to work through something. That's the part I don't understand. Sometimes they just want to be mad or they want to take something small and make it mean everything.

And I guess that for them, that's what they feel they have to do. Every person has issues and problems, and none of us deal with them in the right, healthy way every time they surface. Sometimes we're all casualties on someone else's road. Sometimes it doesn't mean anything, sometimes it wasn't your fault, sometimes it wasn't about you at all. Sometimes you just get hit. Sometimes you're a mistake someone made.

I think that helps me obsess less. People move in and out of our lives for a reason, and maybe that reason is met in the mistakes or the leaving.

This weekend I'm going to spend time with someone I've had a lot of conflicts with in the past oh, 30 years. But I love her. And I want us to be close and I want us to be good friends. More than ever before, I've stood up to her in the past year. I tolerate less. But that doesn't mean that I've hardened or become unforgiving. I think unforgiving is one of the saddest faults a person can have because in the end, it means you end up with less love in your life and maybe you even end up alone. Though I approach it now with more open eyes, I'm still willing to give everyone ten more chances than any sane person would. Well...maybe nine.

"Though no one can ever go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending." - Carl Bard

* A little follow-up...I just read an article on the NY Times website about guilt and atonement. It's a short article and was very interesting. Maybe the reason I obsess so much when there's a conflict in a relationship is that I have high guilt and maybe even high effortful control. Actually I'd say that my feeling of having high effortful control contributes to my high guilt because I think I tried as hard as possible not to cause any conflict and so I feel twice as guilty and bad when there is a conflict that feels out of my control. Interesting psychoanalysis, eh? Check it out here.

Blogger Poll - I Want to Hear From You!

2009-08-25T11:08:00.006-04:00

Hello, ladies! I have a question for you and am eager to hear your responses. If you blog about it, post a comment so I can check it out asap.

An ex-boyfriend that I no longer talk to has been posting comments on my blog. I think it's creepy. Is this a common experience? What do you think when this happens? How do you deal with it? I've been thinking about different things I could do in response, but then that just encourages the bastard, doesn't it? I can't wait to hear from you!

- Penny

And p.s. they're not even nice comments. They're antagonistic. And snarky. Sigh.

Hung Out to Dry

2009-08-25T00:58:00.006-04:00

HBO’s new series, Hung, is compelling, controversial and bringing in high ratings for the network. For those of who don’t know, the plot centers on “Ray,” a high school history teacher and basketball coach. When we meet Ray, he is at rock bottom. Once the star athlete, Ray lost a promising future in major league baseball to a tragic career-ending injury. His beautiful wife left him for the class nerd, now a successful dentist, and in the pilot episode, we watch his house burn down in a tragic accident. He foolishly let the insurance lapse and has no money for the repairs so he moves into a small camping tent in his backyard. His kids move in with their mother, and he’s left desolate, broken and alone. Like many down on their luck in this rotten economy, Ray enrolls in a “get rich quick” course and makes a startling decision – he will become a male prostitute.

I first watched the program to examine how gender roles and gender traditions were portrayed. Plots centering on women who sell their bodies can widely be seen in film and television, but a man who sells himself is new terrain. The most fundamental theme about gender relations one can notice in Hung is that men and women don’t get along. Relationships are problematic, and no one on the show is in a loving, healthy relationship. In fact, perhaps the most noticeable thing about Hung is that no one gets along with anyone, no one is happy.

Class distinctions are apparent, but there appears to be not much difference there either. Characters who have money are unhappy and are in strained relationships while those with lower socioeconomic status are equally dissatisfied. In contemporary American society, power comes with wealth, but in the world of Hung, the rich are portrayed as equally powerless as the poor. The rich women who are Ray’s clients are powerless to change their lives. Although the rich lawyer Ray lives next to is able to persuade law enforcement to continually impose fines on Ray for living in a tent, he is powerless to stop Ray’s deviant behavior or to force him off of his land. In one episode, we learn that he also lacks the power to sexually satisfy his own wife. Even Ray’s ex-wife is having problems in her marriage, and we learn that her husband lost almost a million dollars in investments due to the recession.

Hung provides a realistic representation of suburban dissatisfaction and, like the current economy, teaches us that striving to get everything leaves one with nothing. The instructor of the financial course Ray takes is in fact a fraud who rents a Jaguar to portray himself as successful to his students. This illustrates another theme of the show – things are not what they seem. Ray’s ex and her husband seem to be wealthy but are not. Marriages seem to be healthy and happy but are not. And Ray seems to be the average high school teacher, but is actually a male prostitute.

The only real, honest relationship on the show is between Ray and his pimp, Tanya. Tanya is an unsuccessful poet with writer’s block who spends her days mindlessly checking legal documents for errors and her nights marketing Ray as a “happiness consultant.” A self-proclaimed feminist, Tanya believes that the service Ray offers is one that can give women the happiness they long for but cannot find in their marriages or other relationships. So far, Ray’s clients have consisted of lonely women seeking companionship, wanting to be appreciated for who they are and who are sexually liberated but cannot find fulfillment.

Ray and Tanya are both desperate and lonely. They’ve each been disappointed by their lives, but have great hope and ambition. Their friendship is open, vulnerable and each depends on the other in very real ways. In a recent episode, Ray told Tanya that she was his only friend, and he was right. Though neither is happy, they seem to find solace in one another’s company and support.

I am reminded of a quote by Lester Bangs in Almost Famous: “The only real currency in this bankrupt world is what you share with someone else when you’re uncool.” As our real world looms closer to bankruptcy every day, perhaps shared moments of desperation provide the only opportunity for true human connection.

Once Upon a Time...

2009-08-17T13:12:00.008-04:00

One of my all-time favorite things to do is read fiction. When I was little, I always had a book with me. I'd stay up late at night with a flashlight to read so my mom wouldn't know I was still up. I ended up majoring in English in college where reading fiction was actually my homework. And when I was deciding what to get a graduate degree in, I seriously considered literature...until I learned about the dismal job prospects.

I love the escape I find in burying myself in someone else's life. I love getting into someone's head and reading their innermost thoughts and feelings. And I really enjoy a good story.

For as long as I can remember, I've dreamed about having a great story with my someone. Something a movie would be made about like when Ryan Gosling hangs from a ferris wheel to get Rachel McAdams to go on a date with him in The Notebook. Or how Audrey Hepburn meets George Peppard in Breakfast at Tiffany's when he comes in to use her phone and then helps her get ready to go to Sing-Sing. I've even blogged about great stories of how my friends met their future husbands.

I always thought I'd have a great story too. I dated one guy who actually asked me to prom in high school. He got all dressed up and showed up on my front porch with a bouquet of flowers. I said no because I already had a date, and he stormed off. We didn't speak for six years, and then when we did, we started dating. That would have been a great story. But that guy was actually the worst guy I ever dated and it was the worst relationship I've ever been in - so bad that I'm still embarrassed about some things that happened. A great story doesn't equal a great or lasting relationship.

My guy and I don't have a great romantic story. It's pretty typical and nothing magical happened...except that we found each other. But that's what made me realize I've had it wrong all along. The story isn't how you meet - it's how you fall in love and how you stay in love. That's the real story. That's the story you write home about, the story movies are made about and the one you tell the grandkids. Ryan and Rachel wouldn't have ever been in a movie if there wasn't a great story to tell after that first date. And the best part about this realization is knowing that the story is still being written, it's ongoing and longlasting - like true love.

Alcohol, You're Fired.

2009-08-13T18:27:00.004-04:00

Oh geez. So I'm breaking up with alcohol forever. We've had fights before, but nothing like two days ago. It was so major it should have been televised on pay-per-view with slutty girls in little bikinis holding up signs.

I've had a great summer, but a super busy one. I taught a class and took one, both of which kept me super busy and the bf and I took trips every weekend. I shouldn't complain, I know, but I also had to cram every week so I could party on the weekends and never got to read for fun and blah blah poor me. School ended last week, and I decided to put my cramming skills to good use and squeeze a full awesome summer into a week and a half.

The bf and I took a trip to St. Maaren, which was lovely, and had plenty of fruity umbrella drinks and hot hotel sex. Then my school friend Kiki and I went to Savannah. Which is known for debauchery so we fit right in.

We got sneaky drunk from sangria at Molly's MacPherson's. Check it out, but just know that it's delicious and deadly. That was the first night. I sent the following drunk texts to my bf:

Drunk drunk drunk but I miss you aw

Sangria Savannah woo!

I want to know why I can't buy french fries at 3 a.m. on a Monday. Isn't this America?

Yep. He loves me. The next day we drank on the beach for 3 hours then at the hotel pool. After a quick disco nap (thanks for teaching me that term, Z!), the party was kicked back into gear.

I'd say the night took a major down turn at Wet Willie's. Do you know what Wet Willie's is? It's spring break every night in that place. Frozen fruit concoctions that all come with warning labels. Kiki had the bright idea to get drunk fast by drinking grain alcohol. I'll confess that I've heard of that stuff and that it can kick your ass, but I've never had any. And never will again.

The rest of the night is an absolute blur. We met three guys from the British Royal Navy. One sang Elvis. Kiki wanted to get some, and I was an excellent wing woman. While she made out with her new friend at the bar, I had intelligent drunk talk. We talked about the E.U. and whether Britain should join. Way out of my league after grain alcohol, but I nodded and managed to follow along. We went to a gay bar, where I flashed a lesbian and let her poke my boob through my padded bra. I also announced that I love lesbians.

And the sweet bf got these texts:

Pour some sugar on me. In the name of love.

Savannah is hot.

Aren't lesbians great? I could be one but I'd miss sexy sex sex.

At the end of the night, I threw up like a six year old on Halloween and got so worried about my friend because she didn't hurl that I woke her to make sure she wasn't dead from alcohol poisoning. In the horrible headache that was morning, I woke up my friend who's a nurse to ask if it was possible to break my throat. He told me to take Advil and promised that I didn't have a flap inside my mouth that could be upside down.

So screw you, Alcohol. You may whisper sweet nothings in the evening, but by morning you're just an ugly bitch that stole my stereo along with my dignity.

Back From Oblivion!

2009-07-02T00:25:00.002-04:00

I'm sorry!! I have no idea if you wonderful people even remember me, but I'm sorry I left you for so long!

The spring semester was pure hell, and I barely had time for the perfect boyfriend (yes, we're still dating!) much less for blogging. The summer has been super busy too, but even though nothing is slowing down, I've decided I have to. I have to chill a little before I have a frickin' meltdown.

It's late, and I'm up writing a paper for my summer school class, but I wanted to post a quick blog to say I miss you! I'll write more later. And while I have been keeping up with some of your blogs, I'm anxious to get back into the groove and get back in touch with all my favorite people on the internet!

Peace out! And I'll...be...back...sooooooon

Weekend Update

2009-02-09T12:28:00.002-05:00

Kick. Ass.

I had a great weekend, and the boyfriend is still as great as ever!

Do you ever feel like you have to babysit your significant other? I've felt that so many times before. I'll go to a party with a boyfriend, and I'll keep an eye on him the whole time, checking to see how he's doing, if he's talking to people, if he looks comfortable, and I'll periodically make sure I spend time with him because I'm afraid to leave him alone for too long. I'm not sure what I've been worried about happening exactly, but I guess I've just felt in the past that Boyfriend X was nervous, uncomfortable, unable to hold his own, or needy. It's always felt like an obligation.

Not so with this one. FlyBoy can talk to anyone, can have fun anywhere and doesn't need supervision. When I did talk to him or sit next to him, it was because I wanted to. Because I missed holding his hand or hearing his laugh.

Friday night, we had dinner with a few of my friends. With this group, we all know each other very well so that can intimidating. He jumped right in, though! It was so easy, like everything with him.

Saturday, we were busy hopping around visiting people he didn't know. Again, he was great. Comfortable, charming and happy. I couldn't ask for more. And Saturday night, we all went out dancing. He's a great dancer, and by Saturday night, I could tell he was totally comfortable with my friends and that he really liked them. That made me happy. My friends and his friends are totally different types - when we got home last night, he said they were like night and day - so I was nervous that he wouldn't feel comfortable or would be a bit taken aback by them. Luckily, he loved them and really enjoyed himself.

All in all, this wonderful boyfriend is still wonderful. I'm amazed. I told him last night I thought he was too good to be true. He laughed and said I'd better believe it. He really seems too good to be true, though. I am one lucky gal.

And thanks, bloggy friends, for all your support and for being so darn happy for me. You guys are the greatest!

My Boyfriend is Better Than Your Honor Student

2009-02-06T11:24:00.007-05:00

I have the sweetest, bestest boyfriend ever! This is gonna be a mushy one, y'all, so grab a bucket in case you get sick. ;)

A few days ago, I was sad because I missed my friends in DC. I was homesick for them. And I told him. His immediate response? "When are we going to visit them?" Aw. I should tell you all that because of his job, he flies for free and can take guests with him too. So after listening to me sniff-sniff a little, he planned a weekend trip for us to DC. We're leaving in a few hours! I can't wait! I'm so excited for him to meet my friends, but I'm also so excited for them to meet him. I want to show him and his awesomeness off.

As I'm swimming in giddiness lately, I decided to write a cheese-tastic list about my FlyBoy so you all can get to know him a little and I can brag about how wonderful he is and how friggin' lucky I am.

My boyfriend is great because...

He loves my cooking and is so great about doing the dishes after we eat!
He's sweet to my fluffy little girlie dog and gives her lots of attention...even though she's a fluffy little girlie dog.
He's my absolute favorite person to sleep with. And yes, I mean sleep! He's so cuddly and we fit so well together. I have the most restful sleep with him. I'm addicted.
He's laidback and easygoing and has fun no matter what.
He's always excited about hanging out with my friends and makes an effort. And he likes them a lot. And they just love him!
He's adventurous and spontaneous.
He's more compatible with me than anyone I've ever ever dated, I didn't even know it could be this good - we like to do the same things, have similar dispositions and outlooks, we're both really smiley, have fun no matter what we're doing...it's like we were made from the same mold. Seriously. Aw.
Oh my gosh - he loves to dance! And he's good at it!
He has the hottest arms and the cutest ass!
He's very generous and gifted...
He loves sports, especially college football, but our teams don't play each other. So he can sing Rocky Top and I can...I don't know what Georgia Tech fans do. Buzz?
He's so perceptive and intuitive when it comes to me. It's like he can read my mind. I don't know if he's psychic or if he just pays really good attention.
He makes me giggle!
He's strong and secure, yet also soft and open.
He makes jokes about Stepford Wives just like I do! Phew. Nothing to worry about with this one.
He loves New York!
And he loves to travel to new places and would be happy as a clam to go somewhere new every weekend.

I was thinking about something yesterday that I think sums it all up. A friend told me a few years ago about a book she read called "The Five Languages of Love," and it made the most sense to me.

The premise of it is that there are five ways of expressing/interpreting love - physical affection; making time for someone/spending time with someone; verbal expressions; monetary gifts; and acts of service - and that each individual expresses/interprets love in different ways. So I might rank the five languages differently than you would. And I might rank them differently in terms of how I personally express my love for others and then how I interpret that someone cares for me.

With FlyBoy, this is the first time I can honestly say that I'm dating someone who expresses his feelings in each of the five ways. I just feel so loved. I don't even mean "loooove" as in "I love you." I just mean that I feel his feelings for me. I know he cares. I am just the luckiest girl alive. And I'm off to have another wonderful weekend with this wonderful boy!

(Thanks for indulging my mushiness - I promise not to turn this into one of those icky-lovey-dovey-doo blogs.)

When Do You Give Up?

2009-02-04T08:09:00.016-05:00

I love my friends. I treasure them. My friends are the center of my world. They keep me grounded, they keep me happy, they challenge me, they keep me laughing, they make me the person that I am. The people in my life are my top priority, and my life often orbits around them. I love each of them more than words can express.

But do you ever give up on a friendship? Can you ever? When do you reach the point where you say, "Enough is enough"?

When I was in middle school, I had friend problems. Each year I tried to wiggle my way into a group of friends, and each year, they hurt me and wouldn't let me into their clique. But after those awkward adolescent years, everything's been fine. I'm great at making friends and good at keeping them. I think I'm pretty fun, easygoing and slow to anger. When something does happen, I'm quick to apologize, I'm forgiving and don't hold grudges. I am by no means a perfect person, but I do believe that if there's even one thing I'm good at in this world, it's love.

In the past few years, I've had problems with friends. Problems that remind me of grades 6-8 when a good friend really was hard to find. I actually got very depressed about this a couple years ago, and when I talked to my mom about it, she counseled that it's just what happens when you're in your 20s. She said people grow and change a lot in that time, and you won't always grow and change together. I think she's right, and in reading your blogs over these past few months, I feel a little better about these problems because I see that I'm not alone. It still sucks, though, doesn't it?

You just feel so helpless. You don't know what you did wrong or what's happening or how to fix it. You expect a dating relationship to end, but not a friendship. Never a friendship. The pain of losing a friend aches in ways your heart hasn't bent before. And it's a slow ache that creeps up on you and intensifies as more time passes. I've gotten over the worst heartaches of my little life so much sooner than I've ever recovered from losing a friendship. It's a dull pain that stays with you.

This is what it feels like to lose a friend.

I don't know about you, but I never want to lose a friend. I never let go. I always keep wishing. If any of the friends I've lost in the past few years sent a kind email, a little "Hello, how are you?" I would be happy to reconnect and rebuild what we lost. I would apologize as easily as I would accept apologies - all with the thrill of welcoming the Prodigal Son that is our friendship home.

Looking back at my life, I've never chosen to end a friendship. There have been points when I felt it wasn't going to work, but even through those times, I push on and keep hoping. It's foolish probably. Many have cautioned me that it isn't healthy, that I just let myself get hurt again and again. Yet it's who I am. I love. Forever.

When someone hurts you consistently just because they can, isn't that the time to toss in the towel? To give up and save yourself more heartache? Probably. But it's so difficult for me to reach that point that if I ever did, it wouldn't be a big production. It wouldn't be calculated or declared. It would be a sad and private moment.

What about the realization that your friend is not who you thought they were? Love is blind, and sometimes we are too. Sometimes we see the best in someone whose best doesn't show its face enough. How do you get to the point where you can admit you were wrong about someone and that the friendship isn't what you thought it was?

Sometimes I understand why a friendship is changing, what is at the crux of the issue, and I sympathize for my friend and for myself. I wonder if it's unfair of me to continue pushing, am I forcing them to be who I want them to be? Is it selfish to hold on? Can you ever force friendship? Is it self-indulgent? Why is it so hard to admit a friendship has run its course? Is it weakness?

When I'm worried or upset about a friendship on the rocks, I focus on the good, solid friendships in my life. The ones I'm certain will never go anywhere. I focus on all the love in my life rather than the love I've lost out of my life. I find that whenever you do that, you realize that one greatly outweighs the other. What we have is always more than what we've lost.

So let's try to stay chin up on those bad days, and shoot a good friend a quick "I love you, and I appreciate you," message. After all, when we stop to really look at what we have, we'll see we have a lot of love in our lives.

Weirdest Walgreens Purchase Ever

2009-02-03T20:59:00.007-05:00

Today at Walgreens, my friendly neighborhood pharmacy, I purchased the following essential items:

3 boxes of condoms (different types because I'm trying to find a favorite)
1 refilled prescription of birth control
1 bottle of Flintstone Vitamins

The cashier visibly stifled laughter as he checked me out. What, dude? Sex and health (eh hem, and sex health) are very important to me.

Can Celery and Ugly Pants Ever Get Along?

2009-02-03T14:04:00.009-05:00

The Democrats seem to be basically nicer people, but they have demonstrated time and again that they have the management skills of celery. They're the kind of people who'd stop to help you change a flat, but would somehow manage to set your car on fire. I would be reluctant to entrust them with a Cuisinart, let alone the economy. The Republicans, on the other hand, would know how to fix your tire, but they wouldn't bother to stop because they'd want to be on time for Ugly Pants Night at the country club.
~Dave Barry

I don't like to argue politics. But I love discussing it with people if we can find common ground. I don't enjoy conflict or arguments, and I find that more often than not, they separate people rather than bring them closer together.

This is not a political blog. This is a personal blog where I rattle on about my personal thoughts on life and personal adventures. And in keeping with that, this post will be a personal post and not a political one. Rather than make this about one side versus the other, I will use cryptic and nonsensical nomenclatures for the two parties.

I am an Apple, and my sweet boyfriend is an Orange. I have friends who are Apples, Oranges, Blueberries and even Turnips. I used to think that it would be impossible to be with someone intimately who wasn't an Apple. But that's not at all the case. When we talk politics, we listen to each other, we give and take, and we always find points of agreement and focus on those. I think we learn from each other and challenge each other just by listening. And we agree far more often than we disagree. If we didn't, well, that just wouldn't work for me.

I like talking politics, and I have friends who loooove talking politics. I have friends whose values would be compromised if they partnered with someone of the opposite political party. I understand that. We each have different priorities and ideas about relationships and life - that's what makes us individuals. Just like them, there are certain things that I will not compromise on.

Every once in awhile, my friends send me political emails. I often choose not to respond if I feel the emails are too didactical, too moralizing or too polarizing. I read them, absorb the information and form my own opinion about what I agree with and disagree with, then I delete them without responding.

I think the tone of the email has a lot to do with my reception of it and concede that I can be a bit sensitive. I also concede that I too have been guilty of sending political emails to friends who I know are on the other side, but I always try to be gentle and accepting with my tone. No one is ever perfect, and with any communication, there is frequently a disconnect between the intention and the reception. I would hate to upset or offend one of my friends, and I know they feel the same. But the personal is political, and often times, feelings do get hurt. For me, it's just not worth it.

I could never last in politics, and in my short tenure of working for a national non-profit, I learned I don't have the stomach for it. No matter which side of the aisle you choose, there will be corrupt politicians on your side, and there will be issues that you disagree with the party on. And there will be times that you feel alone. I'm too sensitive. And too passionate. And not tough enough. I love peace and harmony and love and friendship. :D

I'm not sure how to conclude this discussion or what message to espouse. I just hate arguing, especially with friends. And I think that arguing about politics can often lead to insults, name calling and people saying things they mean, but later apologize with: "Oh, I didn't really mean that." Like they think that of other people who disagree with them, but not of you...how exactly does that work? Yick. It's not for me. I'll stick to hugs, rainbows and unicorns, thank you very much.

Politics - I don't know why, but they seem to have a tendency to separate us, to keep us from one another, while nature is always and ever making efforts to bring us together.
~Sean O'Casey

Before you can begin to think about politics at all, you have to abandon the notion that there is a war between good men and bad men.
~Walter Lippmann

Men are joined by conviction, sundered by opinion.
~Goethe

It's Just a Ride, It's Just a Ride

2009-02-02T11:41:00.008-05:00

Ah! I am so sorry, y'all. I've been neglecting you. This semester is kicking my little butt, and I'm also spending an awful lot of time with the new boy. Mmm...he is wonderful!

As I've already said, this is very different from every other relationship. I always know that things are going to end. At the beginning, I can always see the end. If I like the guy (or if I just like dating someone because let's be honest, girls, that happens more often than we'd like to admit), I'll try to wiggle my way out of it. I'll be overly understanding, giving all those little things a free pass, and I'll talk myself out of all the negative thoughts I'm having.

It's pretty ridiculous that I've done that as often as I have. I liked Mountain Man. He was hot, and dude cracked me up. But from the moment that I noticed his flip flops and heard him say he had to choose between those and his muddy hiking boots, I knew we were not destined to be together. That's stupid, I thought, Now I'm benching guys for the shoes they wear? But it was more than that. As I said, "He'd never understand my shoe habit." I think we were verrrrry different people, and I could tell that in the first conversation. Then all these other little things started cropping up, and before you know it, I'm ignoring his phone calls.

I could literally take you through every guy I've ever dated, serious and not-at-all serious, and dissect them all like this. I could tell you what I noticed first, how I talked myself out of letting it bother me, what I noticed next and next...how I talked myself out of those...or didn't. I always believe the best out of everyone, and that includes the men I choose to date. I believe that even though he has no fucking clue what he wants to do with his life, he's going to figure it out soon, and it will be perfect, and he will be happy. That's a popular one. (I know you've fallen into that trap too, ladies.)

So I excel at finding what's wrong and at pushing it out of my mind. With this one...none of that is happening.

We spent all weekend together. All friggin' weekend except for about 4 hours on Saturday and 1 on Sunday. And I missed him during those short little hours. Who am I? I'm turning into the biggest, mushiest sucker. Eee gads! I think I'm falling in love.

It's the scariest thing too. To realize how out of control you are. I think that with all the other guys, I didn't mind noticing all those ways we were incompatible because I always knew what was going to happen, even when I refused to accept it. I was in control. There is a certain comfort in seeing the ending at the beginning. When you can't see the ending and are used to being able to, there is nothing scarier. I mean, I guess there's always the possibility that it won't end. But that's hella scary too.

I've never been a fan of rollercoasters, but I think I understand now why people are. The buildup to the ride is terrifying, you know that upside-down loop is coming, your stomach is flip-flopping. But it's also fun and exhilarating. And as scared as you are, the smile never leaves your face. Maybe I wasn't ready for a rollercoaster before. Maybe I just crossed the line of being able to ride. Maybe I need to stop thinking so much, and just enjoy the ride. Maybe...yep, that one.

It's just a ride, it's just a ride
Don't be scared
Don't hide your eyes
It may feel so real inside
But don't forget to enjoy the ride

All You Need is Love, Love is All You Need.

2009-01-14T12:24:00.010-05:00

2009 is a great year so far. It's just been fun and full of good company. I've been so busy the past few weeks it's crazy. Not just with the sweet, wonderful new boyfriend, but also with lots of friends. I don't know why I didn't feel like I had good friends in Atlanta. I have great friends in Atlanta.

Last fall was interesting for me. I pulled away from most people because I just needed to deal with everything on my own. I do that, whether it's healthy or helpful, it's part of who I am. There were friends that pushed through the barriers I set up. People who called or emailed relentlessly despite the fact that I took days or even weeks to respond. Those were people who knew what I was doing but regardless they pushed my boundaries to let them in.

There were people that dropped back and let me have my alone time. They also knew what I was doing and why. There were friends I barely talked to for 2-3 months, but who completely understood and loved me anyway. I was grateful for the space and for the understanding, and we're close again now as though there was never a beat skipped.

I also had a few problems, though, with people who I don't think understood or well, the truth is I guess I don't understand the problems and probably never will. I know that there were a couple of friends who expected me to lean on them more than I did and resent me for it still. I think they took it personally when it really had nothing to do with them and everything to do with me. One friend I did talk to frequently interpreted that as me coming onto him. I haven't heard from him in awhile, and I wonder if that's why. And yet another who I tried to lean on, but every time, he made a move because he thought by asking for his friendship, I was saying I was open to something more. That one I don't talk to much now.

Early on, soon after my grandfather passed, someone told me that through the experience, I would learn who my real friends are. I think that's true to an extent, but I would phrase it a little differently. I learned who the people are who really, truly know me. And who love me. That was not something I expected out of the grieving experience. My friends do really know me, though, and looking back, I'm grateful for the friendships that withstood all the strain and the ones that deepened because of it.

The night that I drove home praying I would arrive before he passed, I had 6 hours in the car alone. I tried to call a few friends, sent texts to one or two others, but had a two hour long conversation with one friend. This friend and I had a hiccup in our friendship about a year prior, a big hiccup that we had talked our way through and worked through, but one that left both of us a little cautious. In my moment of need, I don't think there would have been anyone better to talk to. So while other friends didn't answer or weren't around, the one I did talk to that night was the person I was meant to. And we are so much closer now because of it.

The biggest lessons (if lesson is the right word) I learned in the past few months are how important the people in my life are and how important it is to form true and deep relationships. I don't want to waste time trying to force friendships or being the only one keeping the friendship going. I've spent way too much time doing that in my life. I want to foster and nurture the friendships I have. I want to always show the love and support for my friends that they gave to me in these past few months.

The only thing that matters in life is love, true love. It's easy to say, it's catchy, it might even be a Beatles song, but there's very real, core-shaking truth to that statement. I am absolutely nothing without the people I share my life with. And if those people don't truly know and understand me, what friendship or love we have cannot withstand a test. Life is only worth living if we love and are loved in return. And to not thank God every single day for the love overflowing in my life would be a disgrace.

P to the S

2009-01-08T15:52:00.002-05:00

Ok. Ya know what? I'm making my own blog award. That's right. It's out of turn, it's out of the box, it's outta controlll!

If there is one blogger who has always encouraged and supported me through this wacky little online world, it's Melrox over at Live for Today. Her blog headline quote says it all: "If you ask me what I came into the world to do, I will tell you; I came to live out loud."

And that she does. She's always honest, open and doesn't hold back. I think she's in fact incapable of bullshit. And from what I know of her, she'd be a great friend to have because she's loyal and would do anything for her friends. I literally did a Google search for just the right blog award for this gal, and that's how I came up with this -

Pass it along!

I'm a Little Bit Sweet and a Little Bit Sour!

2009-01-08T11:04:00.006-05:00

Ooo the Lemonade Award! I love it! It makes me feel all giddy and good inside. So a big thank you to my cool internet friend Irish Chicken Soup over at Vitrifying Hearts. Check her out - she's good peeps.

I'm not quite sure why I was bestowed such an honor, but I'm grateful and happy to return the favor. I get to now nominate other bloggers who I think are sweet and sour. Or as I like to call it, sweet and sassy. I think I'm supposed to choose ten, but ten is a lot and I'm tired today. A hot man deprived me of sleep last night with his yummy sexiness. Meow!

The first kickass blogger I'd like to give this cutie patootie award to is Pink Jelly Baby. I love this girl. She's insightful and inspiring. I don't officially know her, but I do know that she's a good person with a good heart. And I hope that one day we can meet and share a glass of wine! Please check her out - you'll be hooked instantly!

The next is Little Sister Pixie. LSP was one of my very first bloggy friends, and I always enjoy reading her rants and raves. I especially love her obsession with the New Kids on the Block because it's cute and fun and fills me with nostalgia!

Thirdly, The Alleged Ringleader. Or as I like to call her, the baddest bad ass on the blogosphere. This chick is cool and fun and will make you wish you lived in LA so you could get drunk with her and be part of her many antics.

Next up in the lineup is Jen Kucsak at Welcome to the Jungle. This girl has wacky dating stories and makes me miss New York City so much I can taste it! And she's writing a book so trust me, you'll want to be able to say you read her when...

Lastly is a girl I know in the real world. She writes short, hilarious little ditties about life and people-watching ala Jack Handy. And she's just as funny and clever in real life. I'm talkin' 'bout AODC.

And although Irish Chicken Soup already gave the lemonade award to her, I'll just call this an honorable mention. Carolina Girl, I mean you! I hope you are all reading her blog, but if you're not, ya definitely should be cuz you're missing out. This girl is genuine, kind, hopeful and fun. The kind of girl you want to be in a book club with or share umbrella drinks with on the beach. She's all sunshine!

To anyone I didn't mention who reads this little thingie of mine, thank you. I really, truly appreciate your comments, your encouragement and your insights. I know that happy thoughts are being sent my way because of you, and I hope you feel the good energy I'm sending right back at ya. I root for you all, and I believe in you all. It's funny. This blog-world we've created here. We may never meet in real life, but we know things about each other that probably our own friends are not fully aware of. And we care about each other too. It's really quite special when you stop to think about it.

If Oscar Can Be a Grouch, So Can I.

2009-01-06T22:34:00.003-05:00

Buh-lugh.

Do you remember that children's book Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day? Well, that has been today for me. Ugh.

It started out rotten with a bad dream. Then I overslept, couldn't find parking, was late all day...just all around rottenness. And I didn't hear from the new guy until just a few minutes ago (that's 10:30 pm Eastern Standard Time for curious minds). He was traveling all day, had plans as soon as his plane landed, blah blah. I had a bad day. Shouldn't he cosmicly know that and come to my rescue with flowers and hugs? :/

The truth is, as any of you who pay attention to this little blot on the world wide web already know, I'm really good at shutting people out and really awful at letting people in. Oh yes, I'm trying, I'm trying damn hard this time around and who knows? It may all work out and there will be roses popping up with every step and forest creatures hopping along behind me one day. But then again...it may not.

So I had a bad day and I just don't want to talk to him about it. This is still new, we're still learning each other, and all that takes time and shouldn't be rushed. I think part of it is that he's so great, he really is too good to be true. And too good to be true means too good to be trusted. I'm good at taking care of myself...ok, sometimes more so than others...but the point is, I truly don't mind being single. I actually rather love it sometimes. And when I don't, I think I'm still pretty good at it. But the other stuff, the being with someone stuff, sharing the good days and the bad...that's the stuff that's pretty hard.

So ugh. I'm going to end this terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day with a glass of wine, a DVR-ed episode of Gossip Girl and a Tylenol PM. And I'm just not gonna call the boy back tonight and wallow in my bad day. Sigh. Tomorrow who knows.

* It was disturbingly tough to find an image of Oscar the Grouch looking grouchy. For a grouch, he smiles too much. I worry this is another misguided attempt to make our beloved Seasame Street more P.C. First the Cookie Monster stops eating cookies because of the calories and now this? What's next? Big Bird is Big Boned Bird? Geez, people, they're puppets.

Letting Love In

2008-12-29T15:24:00.003-05:00

Oh dear. I'm sorry I disappeared on y'all. I went home for awhile and have also been completely swept away by this new guy. It's the weirdest thing. I can't find anything wrong with him.

I always find something wrong. I excel at it. On the first date, I usually notice a few things I don't like about the guy or see warning signs of future problems or incompatibility. But with this one, nada. Nothing.

It freaked me out at first because, let's be honest, I excel at that too. But then I talked to a few friends who, between violent outbursts, shocked some sense into me. They said, "Let love in. Don't question it, just go with it." And so I have.

I am beyond smitten. When he kisses me, I feel it all over. In my heart, in my stomach, in my...girlie parts...hee hee. His smile makes me smile. His voice makes me giddy. His undivided attention on me feels like a spotlight and a standing ovation. And he's just so darn sweet. We have soooo much in common it's ridiculous, and I've already noticed ways that our differences compliment each other. This is so big it's totally new. 2009 might just be a good year.

Eeeee!!

2008-12-12T01:38:00.011-05:00

This has been a great week. I made it through and actually finished my papers. May have even kicked their little paper asses. And had two GREAT dates with a GREAT guy!

I actually like him. He's so sweet and cute and fun. The dates were so good, I never wanted them to end aw. And I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think this one really has potential. He seems mature and...just different from the others...I don't know. Maybe I'm different. But I never would have expected this in a million years. A million!

Fingers crossed!!

Come Hither, Crazy Creepazoids.

2008-12-07T14:27:00.007-05:00

There is something about me that screams, "Crazy guys! Come here!" I am some kind of homing beacon for emotionally unstable men. It's amusing, yet also disturbing.

So many funny things happened this weekend that I will post about soon. I've been in Nashville with my mom, aunt and cousin. A girls' trip for Mom's 60th birthday. Last night, we went to Tootsie's to celebrate, and I met the sweetest, cutest guy. He looked exactly like Balthazar Getty with the same piercing blue eyes, but younger and without the gray hair. Dream-y! But also craz-y.

I gave him my phone number at 11:12 pm. He called once at 11:44 pm, and again at 12:07 am. Left two crazy messages.

Message #1: "Penny. Hey. I had fun tonight, glad we met. I miss you."

Message #2: "Pen-ny. Your message says you'll call me right back, but you haven't called. Call me."

I am a freak magnet.

We Make Our Own Choices.

2008-12-04T22:55:00.008-05:00

We need help. We need support. Otherwise we're in it by ourselves. Strangers. Cut off from each other. And we forget just how connected we all are. So instead, we choose love. We choose life. And, for a moment, we feel just a little bit less alone.
- Grey's Anatomy

I've been seeing a therapist, and it helps to have someone to talk to about everything. I don't know what it is, but when you lose someone important to you, someone close to you, you feel more alone than you've ever felt. I feel lost. And displaced. And anxious.

She told me yesterday that I'm too closed off. She said I need to open up more and let people in. She said it's a wall preventing me from moving through the grieving process.

I have a lot of love in my little life. I am blessed with incredible, supportive, encouraging friends. And an amazing mother who loves me more than I can imagine. I have people I could talk to. I just don't. I don't want to be a burden. My friends have husbands and jobs and lives to live. My mom has her own grief and her own way of moving through it.

I used to have someone, and now I don't. For three years, I talked to X about everything. He was my person. And I know it's silly, I know it's wrong and doesn't make logical sense, I know that these things just happen, they're not always in our control. But I had that person, my person, and I lost him. It wasn't enough and it wasn't right, but I still blame myself.

I don't want to be vulnerable. But I don't want to shut down forever either. The choice is mine to make. So I'm choosing love, and I'm choosing life, and I'm going to start talking more. I have to choose life. My daddy would want that for me. He was my daddy, you see. And he wasn't a quitter, he wouldn't want me to just give up. I choose love, and I choose life - for him.

* Sorry for another serious post, I'll be more fun again soon. :)

Keep Pushin'

2008-12-03T18:05:00.009-05:00

Ugh. I've been so stressed lately and just in an all-around bad mood. I think it started when I was sick, then the holidays were sad because our family lost two important people this fall, and now finals are bumming me out. Thankfully, a break is coming soon, and I plan to use that time to recuperate and rejuvenate.

The past couple of months, I've been creating a kickass playlist. I read a book a few years ago that challenged women to try to only listen to music by female musicians. I'm trying it out, and it's really empowering.

Here are a few good ones from that list. I hope you'll find some of these songs as uplifting as I do.

1. Nikka Costa - "Keep Pushin'"

This is one of my favorite artists lately.

I'm holdin' steady
Goin' bout my business, I'll wait till they're ready
Keeping my truth in whatever I do
Makin' sure the light inside of me
Still shines through

2. Julie Roberts - "Break Down Here"

I miss X. Now more than ever. He'd know what to do.

I'd sure hate to break down here
Nothin up ahead or in the rearview mirror
Out in the middle of nowhere knowin
I'm in trouble if these wheels stop rollin
So God help me keep me movin somehow
Dont let me start wishin I was with him now
I made it this far without cryin a single tear
And I'd sure hate to break down here.

3. Alissa Moreno - "Wildfires"

though i've been crushed, i've been killed
i am scared, but god, i will
keep on trudging up this crazy hill

we survive, we get by
we take those hits
and we learn to fight
we collide, but we don't die
trying to put out wildfires

5. Sia - "Breathe Me"

The music in this song is what makes it so powerful and so beautiful.

Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up
Unfold me
I am small
and needy
Warm me up
And breathe me

6. Adrianne - "10,000 Stones"

10,000 stones hanging deep in my heart
No, I don`t know how they don`t tear me apart
How could I ever believe
10,000 stones would save the fool in me
10,000 stones would be a strange blessing
10,000 stones would build the best of me

7. Holly Williams - "Sometimes"

I wish I were an old man, a scholar
With the wisdom of a 1,000 men before me
wish I were a funny dream that haunted
The people I love every time they were down

I wish I was a fine wine
I wish I were a good drug
Hey and if I were Jesus , maybe I could heal all of us
Just like a good lover, which one do you prefer?
In a world full of vices, I wish I were a little bird
Sometimes

8. Missy Higgins - "Steer"

So hold this feeling like a newborn
Of freedom surging through your veins
You have opened up a new door
So bring on the wind, fire and rain

It was always simple, not hidden hard
You've been played at a game called remembering your name
And you stuffed it up

But the search ends here
Where the night is totally clear
And your heart is fierce
So now you finally know that you control where you go
You can steer

9. Grace Potter and the Nocturnals - "Treat Me Right"

I love the blues, and I love this band because their sound is bluesy. Do you ever hear a song and almost wish you had a broken heart just so you'd feel the song more? I wish I had this song after a few of my bad break-ups. It'd be a good salve for a broken heart.

C'mon, C'mon, C'mon you've got to treat me right
All the time, squeeze me like a key lime
C'mon, C'mon, C'mon you've got to quit the fight and fall into the night

Treat me right and don't you do me wrong
Play for keeps don't just play along
O will give you all the love I got

10. Charlotte Martin - "Beautiful Life"

I love the piano.

So swim to the end of the river
Until there's no shiver left in your spine
Live like there won't be tomorrow
See through your sorrow
See through your own eyes
Try to remember these days down the road
And try to remember this time

The sun may come up and go down again
I'll still swear it's a beautiful life

11. Idina Menzel - "I Stand"

'Cause I stand for the power to change,
I live for the perfect day.
I love till it hurts like crazy,
I hope for a hero to save me.

I stand for the strange and lonely,
I believe there's a better place.
I don't know if the sky is heaven,
But I pray anyway.

12. Maxwell - "This Woman's Work"

This is one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard. It's lifted my spirits for a long time now.

I know you have a little life in you yet
I know you have a lot of strength left
I know you have a little life in you yet
I know you have a lot of strength left

I should be crying but I just can't let it show
I should be hoping but I can't stop thinking
Of all the things we should've said that we never said
All the things we should have done that we never did

Boo. School is for Foolz!

2008-12-02T20:48:00.002-05:00

I have been sucked into the black hole abyss that is "finals time." I have papers to write, papers to grade, a final exam to write and administer and after that, exams and more papers to grade. Poor little me. Somehow it's already nine o'clock. Ruh roh, Shaggy.

I'm taking a break before my brain implodes and writing a much overdue blog. And as all my creativity is draining out of me minute by minute, I'm copying At Least I'm Skinny. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Pray for me, little angels. Mama needs A's. And her life back.

Mood: Oh geez, stressed to the mizz-ax. If I knew how to use morse code, I'd be sending everyone I know S.O.S. messages right about now.

Mascara: Maybelline Great Lash. Black. Waterproof. FTW.

Last movie I watched: I'm embarrassed to say that I saw Transporter 3 on Thanksgiving with my family. I never even saw 1 or 2, but the plot was simple enough that it wasn't tough to keep up. It's basically an Audi commercial with lots of fighting and stunts so fantasical you laugh out loud and choke on your Diet Coke.

Lipgloss or Lipstick: Depends on where I'm going and what I'm doing. Usually lipstick for the evening, and lipgloss for everyday activities.

Outfit: Not sure it deserves denotation as an actual "outfit," but it's a t-shirt and old running shorts. Hot.

Shoes: White puffy slippers with rhinestone crowns. I'm a pretty princess. Thanks, E!

Blush: Bobby Brown. I was so disappointed the day I learned the make-up has no affiliation with the singer. "It's My Prerogative" will forever be a classic. Ha actually, when I think about Bobby, I'll always remember being a guest on the DC morning radio show the same day they argued with him about whether or not they paid his bail to get his deadbeat dad ass outta jail.

Eyeliner: Speaking of Bobby Brown (the make-up, not the deadbeat dad), I am in love with their gel eyeliner. It's a God-send and seriously the best cosmetic I own. It's waterproof and actually stays on without leaving droopy residue or greasy smudges. I highly recommend it.

Breakfast beverage: Life without coffee isn't worth living. (Z, I can't find Pete's anywhere! When I visit, you've gotta tell me where I can pick some up!)

Goals for the week: Finishing all the shit I have to do without losing my everloving mind.

Dreaming with a Broken Heart

2008-11-25T10:07:00.001-05:00

My grandfather was in my dream last night. I was eating dinner with my family, and he walked in like he never died. He took a quick look at us and then walked out. As he did, he winked at me, and I burst into tears. No one in my family understood why I was crying because they didn't see him.

This year, the holidays are gonna suck. As soon as he died, I told everyone that I already hated Christmas this year and it was months away. Last year, my mother and I went to Florida and spent a week with him celebrating Thanksgiving. Mom told me it was because it would be his last Thanksgiving, but I didn't believe her (I didn't want to believe her). Looking back, I think he knew it would be too. Every year he called and gobbled at us over the phone.

I miss him so much.

A friend told me that I would start seeing him in my dreams. I'm so thankful he visited me last night. But I was so sad when I woke up. I love you, Pap. Gobble, gobble, gobble!

When you're dreaming with a broken heart,
The waking up is the hardest part.
You roll outta bed and down on your knees,
And for the moment you can hardly breathe.
Wondering was she really here?
Is she standing in my room?
No, she's not.
'Cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone....

I'm The Guy? No, I'm Always The Girl.

2008-11-25T00:02:00.018-05:00

I hate it when I hear guys use the p- word or the c- word. I hate it because they're almost always using those words as insults. When I hear a guy use such vulgarity in my presence, the conversation usually goes like this:

Dumb Dude - Blah blah blah p- word

Me - You say that like it's a bad thing.

DD - Huh?

Me - It's not a bad thing to be a pussy. Don't you love pussies?

DD - [chuckles stupidly ala Beavis and Butthead]

Me - I love the pussy. Do you love the pussy?

DD - Huh-huh-huh yeah! Der! Huh-huh!

Me - Then don't insult the pussy. If you love the pussy and want to be near the pussy, you won't insult it like that again.

DD - Huh-huh-huh...you said p- word...huh-huh!

(Notice I did not give Dumb Dude spelling-out privileges. I will only spell out pussy when it is given the proper respect and adoration it deserves. In fact, that's not all I won't do if those conditions are not appropriately met.)

That scenario is particularly amusing to me when I don't know the guy well and/or we're surrounded by a crowd of people. By trade I am a teacher, after all, and I'm used to having a large group of students to impart my wisdom and knowledge upon.

Think about it, ladies. When you hear a guy call another guy a p- or a c-, it's an insult. Sometimes it will be blatant, and you'll actually hear a guy call another guy "a girl." Let me ask you this - why is that an insult? There's nothing wrong or bad about being a girl. I wouldn't be insulted if you called me a desk or a lamp (yes, Ron Burgundy, I'm just saying it because I see them). Apparently, it's degrading for someone who is not a girl to be called a girl. Hell. It can even be an insult when you are a girl.

"You throw like a girl!"

"You run like a girl!"

"What? Are you gonna be a girl and cry about it?"

Whenever someone calls me a girl, I tell them they're just stating the obvious. "Yeah. I know. So what's your point?" But what does it mean when someone calls you a guy or tells you you're acting like one?

Because something I hear every now and then is that I'm acting like a guy. I don't know what to make of this one. I'll be talking to a friend, or maybe even someone I don't even know very well, about a guy I'm dating or used to date. And they'll say it. "Sounds like you're the guy in the relationship." Then they laugh.

Seriously - what does this really mean? Is it good? Is it bad? Why is it funny? I just don't know. It comes from girls and guys alike, but who says it doesn't seem to change the meaning at all.

Goofer's told me more than a few times throughout our many years of friendship - "That's what you get for dating a guy who thinks like a girl," "He did what?! He's being such a girl about this." or "You're the guy. You know that, right?"

Don't get me wrong - I have put some thought into this. Usually it's when I'm complaining about a guy calling or texting me. Or I tell someone about a fight I just had with the guy that I don't understand. Or I'm talking about feeling awkward when he cried or confused when he got his feelings hurt. I get that, right or wrong, certain behaviors are gendered. But what I don't understand is whether my characterization as "the guy" is a good thing or a bad thing?

I'm turned off by guys who contact me too much or come on too strong. I can be fickle. I don't like things moving quickly and have commitment issues. I'm not going to have three dates with a guy and expect we're exclusive. I'm not going to date a guy for a month and think we're in a relationship. I get hella-annoyed when guys do these things because we're not in college anymore. I don't cry often or in front of anyone unless we're watching a sad movie. I get freaked out when guys cry in front of me. Especially if it's at a movie like Monsters, Inc. True story.

I get freaked out when meeting the family comes too soon. I hate it when guys are jealous of my guy friends or ex's. It weirds me out when guys are more sensitive than me and when they get their feelings hurt and have to talk about it. I don't do that unless it's big. I step back when a guy is more insecure than me. There's a healthy human amount of insecurity, and anything more is a problem. And I think fights are stupid unless major shit hits the fan.

Is there something wrong or bad about all that? Seeing it all listed like that makes me think I sound bitchy, but evidently, it makes me a guy.

I also love chick flicks. Grey's Anatomy is my favorite show because Sex and the City is off the air. I drink cosmopolitans, and pink is my favorite color. I like flowers and chocolate and had posters of cheesy teen heart-throbs like Jonathan Knight and Kirk Cameron on my wall growing up. I saw Titanic the night it opened. I love shoes and purses and own more than I have room for. I get manicures on bad days. I'm a romantic.

I love to cook for my man. I like writing sweet little cards and hiding them for him to find. I talk about my feelings. I like cuddling, laying out on the beach and love to host dinner parties. I talk to my mom every day and giggle with my friends. I have poetry books. There are pictures of friends all over my apartment where we have our grinning faces smooshed together the way only girls do, and I love my small, fluffy dog who sits on my lap and wears bows.

So what if I also love sports and quote Will Ferrell? Whatever people say, I'll always be a girl. And if I'm sure of anything, I'm sure there's absolutely nothing wrong with that.

"Girls can wear jeans
And cut their hair short,
Wear shirts and boots.
'Cause it's okay to be a boy.
But for a boy to look like a girl is degrading.
'Cause you think that being a girl is degrading.
But secretly you'd love to know what it's like,
Wouldn't you?
What it feels like for a girl."
- Madonna, The Ultimate Girl

NaBloPoMo SchmaNaBloPoMo

2008-11-24T12:07:00.004-05:00

That was a hard title to type out. But you get the drift. I have failed at 30 posts in 30 days. Blah. I give up. It's November, which means I have final papers to write, final papers to grade and a final exam to write.

And on top of all that work, I just had to get sick. I've spent the past week or so lying on my couch, cuddling my puppy and doping up on cough medicine and antibiotics. I hate getting sick. I've seen way more Law and Order than anyone ever should. Not to mention I rented so many movies, I even watched Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2. And enjoyed it. Though that may have been the medicine.

Thank God for Goofer. He's my sweetheart. He took me to get juice and soup and even spent a couple days with me on the couch. It's nice to be around 3D people. And like the good nurse that he is, he keeps checking up on his patient. Aw.

I just wanted to write a quick message explaining my absence. I'll try to get well soon! I need to so I can enjoy my aunt's cheese potatoes and my mom's carrot cake. Yum. Happy Turkey Day!

My Top Ten Deal Breakers

2008-11-18T14:54:00.009-05:00

Ok, now I'm answering questions posed by Date Girl and A Fair Fairy. Both great girlie blogs so take a peek.

My Top Ten Deal Breakers

I want to start by saying that I know how I want to be treated, and how I need to be treated, but none of that is listed here. I'm not high maintenance, I don't need a lot, but I know what is enough. I need enough. And that's all I'm gonna say about that.

1. Tsk! Temper Temper!

I cannot be with a man with a temper. I recently told my aunt that I can't end up with a guy who has a bad temper, and she told me they all have them. I'm taking my chances and betting that isn't true. This is a major deal breaker, the number one deal breaker, but it's a hard one to spot usually. I mean, at first it's all lovey-dovey, honeymooney, "He can do no wrong," so you don't have your first fight or see the temper flare up until you're already in deep. But eee gads, once it does, I can't shake my mind off it.

The most important things I've learned about relationships in my sorted dating history is that I need someone who communicates in similar ways and who resolves conflict in similar ways. The reason I am single is that I have not yet met a man who possesses these two traits. X communicated like me, but didn't resolve conflicts in a compatible way. He's the closest I've gotten so far.

2. I don't do bald.

I'm 5' 6", and I've dated guys as short as 5' 4" and as tall as 6' 5". I've dated skinny, lanky, meaty, musclely, with a hairy chest, with a hairless chest, brown haired, blond haired, black haired, red haired, men with facial hair, men who couldn't even grow facial hair if their life depended on it...you get the picture. But bald is where I draw the line. Bald just doesn't do it for me.

3. I'd rather take a guy with a sketchy past than one with no past at all.

I've dated guys who were wild, dated crazy girls, had weird hangups about their ex's, whatever it is - I'm sure I've dated it. But when I meet a guy who hasn't had a girlfriend in a few years or yikes ever, I see flashing red lights and hear loud ass sirens. I see it as a warning of potential problems. I've got a complicated past, and I've had a lot of complicated experiences. I'm not looking for a fixer-upper or someone who's not into commitment.

4. Just Say No - to Sloppy Seconds.

I've never dated a guy who's dated one of my friends. The only exception to this in my 16 years of dating is that I dated a guy that Lass had one date with two years before I even met the guy. And I didn't know about that until I told her we were dating. I'm a big believer in girl code.

5. Get back, loud breathers and close talkers! You creep me out.

I don't even like to be around people who do either of these things. Gross gross gross!

6. I would never date a non-Christian seriously.

I've had a few serious relationships, and one thing I've learned is that it's important to date people who want the type of life that you want. When I meet their families, I'm thinking about what it would be like to share a life with this family and be a part of it. I don't want to marry someone who wants to move somewhere new every year or so. I don't want to marry a guy who wants to live way out in the country, far from a big city. And I don't want to marry someone who doesn't share my faith because I want us to share that faith with our children. And I want someone to pray with when things get rough. That's all part of the life I want, and I know I can't settle for less. Not to mention it's a part of who I am.

7. A Republican...sort of

The more I think about this one, the less it matters. What it boils down to is values. If someone shares my values, but votes in a different direction, I think that's ok. I just need someone who sees eye to eye with me on my core values, and as long as we share that foundation, I think we'll be alright. I think. ;)

8. Non-meat-eaters need not apply.

I love to cook, and I love to eat. Cooking is my therapy, and I love having someone to cook for. But if my guy is a vegetarian or even worse - vegan! - I have no freaking clue what I'd cook for him, and whatever it was, it wouldn't be as yummy as something with lots of meat and cheese.

9. Mama knows best.

I could never get serious about someone that my family or my closest friends didn't approve of or didn't get along with. Never. Period.

10. Please observe the No Smoking!! sign.

I could never date a smoker. Never. I watched my sweet everloving grandfather die slowly and painfully of lung cancer, and every time I smell cigarettes, that's what I think of. I think smoking is careless, weak and selfish.

* I had to add two more!

11. I wanna hold your hand.

Some guys are not into PDA, but I am big time. I'm all about some affection. I don't like slimey hand holding so if your hands are sweating, wait til they aren't covered with goo. Also, I don't like it when a guy puts his hand in the back pocket of my jeans. I was just trying to explain this to someone last weekend, and he thought I was weird. Maybe I am. But it makes me feel like a possession, like a dog being held by the collar, and I'm a wild, independent woman that you can't tame.

12. No love for football, no love from me.

I just think it's weird when a guy doesn't like football. And, like, what would we do on Saturdays in the fall if we were a couple? Do I have to explain the difference between offsides and false start to you? Do you have a real opinion about the BCS? I just don't get it, dude.

Tagged Again! 15 Questions and 15 Answers.

2008-11-15T14:52:00.003-05:00

Yay I got tagged by The Alleged Ringleader at The Mean Girls' Guide to Glory. Such a fun blog. It makes me wish I lived in sunny, fabulous LA. And though they may be mean, they're more sassy and glorious. Check it out.

1. Were you named after someone?

Nope. My mom had a tough time coming up with my name, though. She wanted to name me Daphene (ugh), but worried kids would tease me and call me Daffy Duck. Then she thought about Danielle, but decided kids would call me Danny, and I'd end up a tomboy. Heaven forbid. She's a funny one, that mama of mine. She did manage to spell my name in such a way that I've never met anyone who spelled it right the first time. Not sure what that was about, but even I had a hard time learning how to spell my name as a child because no one spelled it the same way. It was very confusing.

2. Do you still have your tonsils?

Nope again. Got em taken out when I was 8. All I remember was getting to stay home from school and eat popsicles.

3. Would you bunjee jump?

Hells no. I'm too chicken. In fact, I'm too scared to even ride rollercoasters. I was the scared little girl that climbed the ladder to jump off the high dive, and then chickened out and climbed back down. Pitiful.

4. What is your favorite cereal?

Kashi Krunch! It's healthy and yummy. And I like it with Silk Vanilla Soy Milk. Yum.

5. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?

This implies I wear shoes with laces. I almost never do, but when I do wear sneakers, I just throw them off and toss them. I'm a mess, but love my chaos. Ha X's favorite shoes that I wore are a pair of heels that look like tennis shoes. Hard to explain, but they're darn cute. He always joked that they summed up my personality. Not sure what that means, but it's a fun memory.

6. What is your favorite ice cream?

I love ice cream! My favorite would be either New York Super Fudge Chunk or Peanut Butter Cup. Both of which have a week's worth of fat intake. Ooo I also like the one with the chocolate covered pretzels filled with peanut butter. That was a good idea.

7. What is the first thing you notice about people?

Hmm. Hair, I think. I notice whether a guy's bald or going bald, and I always check out girls' hair because I like everyone's hair better than my own.

8. What is your least favorite thing about yourself?

I don't like my boobs. Poor little girls never got enough love from me.

9. What was the last thing you ate?

I had Key Lime Pie for breakfast.

10. What are you listening to right now?

Well, actually Steel Magnolias is on TV, but Shelby's about to die so I'll probably turn it off before that happens. I've seen this movie so many times I have it memorized. Probably the question was about music, but I posted about that already.

11. Last movie you watched?

I stayed in last night because tonight's gonna get rowdy and watched P.S. I Love You. I saw it in the movie theater last New Year's Eve day, but wanted to see it again. I'm still drawn to movies about how we heal from loss.

12. What did you dream about last night?

Shoe shopping. True story. I love me some shoes.

13. What book are you reading?

Hooked: Buddhist Writings on Greed, Desire and the Urge to Consume. It's for my Cultural Studies class. Can't wait til this semester ends, and I can read for fun again! Until the next semester begins, that is. Boo school.

14. Summer or Winter?

That's an easy one. Summer. I'm a summer girl. I love warm sunshine, the beach, summer dresses, flipflops, I love how happy and relaxed everyone is. I do love the snow, though. And knee boots. So winter has a few charms.

15. Do you have any special talents?

I can stick my whole fist in my mouth. And I have big hands so it's quite special, my talent.

I tag my new internet friend, Date Girl. You're it, girlfriend!

Soul Meets Soul on Lovers' Lips

2008-11-13T22:13:00.010-05:00

Ok. First. I love Grey's Anatomy. Bear with me for a moment, I promise the whole post's not about that.

I think it's the greatest show ever in the history of the world. It makes me feel and it makes me think, and it teaches me and makes me feel human. Alex has always been my favorite guy on the show. There's something compelling about someone so broken and yet so strong and honest who takes all of that and puts it into the love he shows for other people.

Izzy has always been my favorite girl, and the one that I identify with the most. I identify a lot with Meredith too because I get her commitment issues and how she reacts to it all. But Izzy I identify with because I see a lot of the qualities I like about myself in her. She's compassionate and understanding and idealistic and always tells the truth, even when it's hard. Plus, an astounding number of people have told me Katherine Heigl and I share mannerisms. Strange.

So I love seeing Alex and Izzy finally together. They're my favorite characters and now my favorite couple. I loved seeing their first real kiss a few episodes ago. But this post didn't start because of them. It started because of the kiss Christina and the hot army surgeon shared. Alex and Izzy shared a, "Wow we love each other," kiss and it was sweet and full of feeling while Christina and her guy had a steamy, intense lustful kiss. It all made me think about kissing.

I love kissing. It's so fun and yummy. JP asked me last weekend how many guys I've kissed in my lifetime, and I couldn't come up with a number if I tried. I did go through a silly phase in New York where I kissed practically every guy I met. Hence "The Kissing Bandit" nickname. Well-earned. It's funny how kissing is so different with each new person. And it's funnier how different kisses can be with the same person. Kisses change from moment to moment just as dramatically as from person to person.

There are the hungry kisses. Wild, white hot heat. You're clutching at everything, gasping for air, knees weak and stomach wobbly. That could all just come from an insane physical attraction or chemistry. It could also come after a fight or a breakup.

The "I love you" kisses are so sweet and warm. Your heart feels fuller every time. Your smile gets wider, and your step a bit lighter. These kisses make you lean and linger cuz when you love, you love with your whole body and soul, not just your lips.

Someone told me once that there are two types of kisses. The Neptune Kiss and the Ariel Kiss. The Neptune is mouth and tongue - deep tongue penetration. The Ariel is more mouth, mostly lip, starts off gentle and stays more on the surface with a few tongue flitters. Ok, I know this sounds ridiculous, but you also know exactly what I'm talking about. Supposedly you're more one type than the other. I know which I am, and I definitely notice when I'm dating a guy which of the two he prefers. I've also noticed that while it's possible to get a guy to kiss how you like to kiss, it still isn't his preference or his style. And I can totally tell when that's happening. It's not as good as it is when you find someone who kisses exactly the way you kiss.

Tonight, yes while watching Grey's Anatomy, I was thinking about all the different types of kisses there are. The Neptune and the Ariel, but also the hungry kisses, the love kisses, the new kisses, the goodbye kisses, the everyday kisses...My point is that kisses say so much. They are their own unique form of communication.

As I watched Christina and Army Guy in their hot kiss, I thought about the hottest kisses I've ever had. I wondered if the kiss felt hot to me because I was hot for the guy or really liked him. Or if it was that I felt hot because he felt so hot for me, and I was reading his feelings. But then I realized that, of course, I don't always feel what he feels when we kiss, and vice versa, because I'm sure there have been times when I was bored to tears but the guy thought it was the hottest kiss ever. It's not about what I'm communicating or what he's communicating. The best kisses are the ones when we're aligned, when we're so connected that we're feeling, communicating and understanding the same message.

I was talking to Lass the other day about how hard it is for people to understand each other. I said that it's frustrating when I say "Red" and my friend hears "Blue" or hears "Red" but thinks even though I said "Red," I really meant "Blue." I'm a good communicator, and I use my words carefully and precisely. But kisses transcend words. A good kiss is not just when I say "Red" and he hears and gets "Red." It's when I communicate a very specific, very detailed shade of red, and that's exactly what he's understanding and feeling too.

Good kisses are perfect, wordless moments of communication clarity. It's breathtaking and amazing when someone understands and knows your soul, and the best kisses do just that.

My Worst and Best Dates Ever

2008-11-13T18:02:00.003-05:00

Yay! Thanks for your questions. I'll be answering them all in due time. I'm starting with the question from The Dumbest Smart Girl You Know. My best and worst dates ev-eh.

I'm going to start with the worst because I always like hearing bad news first, good news last. Eee gads have I had some bad dates. Captain Awkward, of course, and a really terrible one from college I've already blogged about. Just about every date I went on in DC was rotten. I don't know why I had such bad luck in that town, but I kept meeting duds. Aside from the nice guy from this past summer and X, of course.

One guy I met at a bar (because I can't even take my own advice) told me a charming story about what he did after meeting me. We were at a bar on a Thursday so we both had work the next morning. I said goodnight around 11, but he apparently stayed at the bar til it closed all by himself. He lived three short blocks from the bar, but upon stumbling home drunk at 3 a.m. and discovering he left his keys at the bar, he decided to totter onto a hotel.

He didn't have enough money for a room so he staggered back out onto the street. And stole a plastic tarp that was covering a motorcycle and took it up to his roof where he used it as a blanket and slept all night. In a thunderstorm. Not just any thunderstorm, it was such a bad storm the Metro was closed the next day for flooding. And when I asked him why he didn't just go back to the bar, he said he was too drunk to think of that. Classy. This fine young suitor ended up getting a bit obsessed with me and called and texted several times after no communication from me. I finally texted him a plea to leave me alone. He didn't take that well, but after sending a few irate messages with no response, he gave up on having a text fight with himself. And headed back to the bottle, probably.

So that was a bad one. The really bad dates, though, were ones that ended in fights or tears. I've had too many of those to count. I don't know what always sent me back into the arms of those guys except maybe love. And a blind hope that things would change. I believe I learned my lesson, though, that any boy who acts like a jerk doesn't deserve more than a second chance. Three strikes, you're out. Now that I've been treated perfectly, I won't settle for less ever again. Thank you, X.

Best dates...I've had a few of those, thankfully. If I had to pick I'd say the best date was with The Firestarter in New York. I just got my first job, and we went out to celebrate. We went to dinner at our neighborhood Italian restaurant and then headed to my favorite spot in the city (it's a secret!). We ended the night with a bottle of champagne on the rooftop of my old building looking out at the most beautiful skyline on earth. I was so happy that night. Do you ever have moments where you are purely, perfectly happy and peaceful? I was happy with him, but I was happiest at myself for getting a good job in New York City. I was so proud of myself for making it on my own, finding my way. That was probably also the happiest day of my life. I really loved me in that moment.

I'd say that my second best date was this summer. I had a brief, but sweet little summer fling. It was good, though we didn't even make it a month. Oh but what a fun month! The date I'm talking about started at a Pearl Jam concert. It was his favorite band and the first time he'd ever seen them live. He was soooo excited, giddy like a little boy, and cute as can be. He sang all the songs into my ear the whole concert! I love seeing people truly happy, like watching someone talk about something they care a lot about or are passionate about, it's a special, rare side of them. I was glad he shared that special moment with me.

After the concert, it was impossible to catch a cab and the Metro was going to close any moment. I made a suggestion I thought for sure he wouldn't take me up on, but surprisingly, he did. I said, "I wish we could just walk," and after a couple of blocks, I realized we were. We walked all through the city that night, past the Monuments and up to the Capitol building. And I love the Capitol. I made him dance with me in front of it. I know, I know, I'm a cornball, but sometimes you've got to make your magic. He seemed like such a serious person, very responsible and I'm so all over the place, Miss Wacky Free Spirit - it was a funny match from the start. Our talk that night wasn't particularly deep or meaningful, but like our brief time together, it was light and fun. I love walking through cities at night. It's one of my all-time favorite things to do. It was a lovely evening.

I was trying to think of my best date with X, but I couldn't come up with just one. We always had such great talks and so much fun together, it didn't matter what we did. We didn't need the backdrop of a fabulous city like DC or New York. The few I did think of as some of my favorites were either a night in on the couch, or we both love to drink outside in warm sunshine and had a few great afternoon dates. One in particular was when I still lived in DC, and he was up for a visit. We spent Sunday morning reading the paper at Starbucks, walked the dog through the Eastern Market and then ended with an afternoon of margaritas at good ol' Banana Cafe. That was a perfect day.

The truth is, though, that my best dates are in my future, not my past. I haven't had a best date ever because I haven't met the best guy ever (for me, that is). You know what they say, the best is yet to come!

Suggestions, Dear Readers and Friends?

2008-11-12T14:07:00.002-05:00

Yikes this "30 Posts in 30 Days" thing is rough. I'm already bored with myself. So I'm taking a cue from Malfeasance, and I'm asking for your help.

Any questions you ask of me, dear readers and friends, I will answer. Now's your chance to learn anything you've (never) wanted to know about me. Comment away!

Oh For Fuck's Sake.

2008-11-11T21:22:00.021-05:00

Sorry for the swear. It seems to be my favorite word lately. So versatile, I love it. But don't tell my mom - she says ladies don't curse.

For fuck's sake! Are there no good guys left? I said a few months ago I don't want a boyfriend, and that's still true, but I was hoping to find someone nice and fun to entertain me for a spell. I stopped talking to Rocky a couple weeks ago because, well, it turned out he had the personality of a rock. The other guys I've met or dated since I got back from DC this summer, sadly, nothing fun there either. We all remember Captain Awkward. And there were a few lackluster one date wonders along the way. Some guy who got obsessed with texting me until I had to text that he was creeping me out.

And this really sweet lawyer, but he just wasn't right for me. Too bad cuz he was such a nice guy. I didn't realize it because we met in DC, but he actually lives in Richmond. We had a date when I visited DC a few months ago, and he drove all the way up to DC to have dinner with me! But...he isn't right for me. Doesn't it suck when a guy you're not into does something amazing?

And now Mountain Man. No - say it isn't so! He's hot, he's scruffy, he climbs giant boulders with his bare freaking hands. And sure, I noticed a few things that told me this wasn't going anywhere long term. Like all his annoying self-deprecating comments whenever he'd say something about me getting a PhD. I'm so over that. Why do guys have to make such a big deal about it? Maybe next time I'll just lie and say I teach kindergarten.

And he has a giant dragon tattoo across his back. Ha. Though that could be hot if I pretended he was a rock star. He also confessed on the phone last week that he never wants children. Well, he never wants his own children, he only wants to adopt. Which is nice and sweet, but definitely a deal breaker for this gal. I can't deny mankind - my genes would do a lot for this world.

I thought this was the perfect situation for me. I'm not looking for anything serious, nothing serious could come from us dating. Win, win. For me anyway. Plus, did I mention he's hot? Yum. But no, I can't even have a perfect meaningless fling.

We were on the phone the other day, and it comes out that the marketing company he owns is a start-up...which means it doesn't exactly exist. And now it really doesn't exist because they lost their investors. He mentioned he might commute to Alabama for a couple months because he could get work there renovating houses. Ok, not gonna impress Mom, but nothing intolerable.

Tonight we somehow get on the subject of religion. He mentioned a cross necklace I always wear. I've worn it for seven years, and it has a lot of meaning for me. He asked if I'm "churchy." Uh, ok. Then asks if I noticed the nuns in his house. "Nope, missed them." Apparently, he has two nun figurines praying to a dildo, which you know he finds totally cool and hilarious. Where do I find these clowns? And a dildo? What kind of guy has a dildo? The guy is 33. Act your age, dude. That didn't go over well with me, and I'm pretty sure he caught that.

So, another one bites the dust. And, after my post yesterday, I've been doing some thinking. Maybe I should stop playing around, stop trying to distract myself and actually spend some time alone processing everything that's happened in my life in the past several months. I was worried that after X, I wouldn't meet anyone that great again, but the way I've been acting lately, it's like I've given up. I haven't. I just need my Mojo back. I am officially breaking up with dating. It's gonna be a tough habit to kick, but I think I can do it.

Well, ok, except for kissing a random stranger on New Year's because that's what New Year's is all about. And I like kissing. I'm good at it. Oh, and of course if I meet any of my top 5 celebrities cuz that's always allowed...or you know, just some really good looking guy...no, seriously, I mean it...no more dating...oh for fuck's sake! This is gonna be hard!

Rebirth

2008-11-10T22:02:00.005-05:00

“There’s such a concept of loss. I connected to the idea in this movie of loss and how we react to loss. We think of things in a straight line. Birth → life → death. And then, you know, ok, you died, it’s over. And it’s like that’s not really how it works. If you take those ends and you bend it into a circle, it’s birth → life → death → rebirth. So you have to be prepared when you lose something. When you go through a divorce, when your mother dies, when you lose your house you have to understand that nature has it no other way. There is a rebirth. The death is painful, it doesn’t change the pain of the death. But you gotta stay awake and stay focused for the rebirth that God is about to offer you.”

Will Smith said that about his new movie Seven Pounds. Thank God for DVR. I kept rewinding it over and over again to hear him say those words. I couldn’t hear it enough. Death brings a rebirth?

Every Saturday, I think about my Papaw. I think about the fact that he died on a Saturday morning. Thursday was November 6. He died on September 6. Two months ago. Two months. Has it really been that long? I’ve entirely lost my concept of time. It’s hard to keep track of when anything else happened in the past few months, but not hard to remember that Saturday in September.

At first, I shut down and shut out. Clinging, clutching, I buried myself in my family and in being at home, and time felt like it was standing still. Time still feels as though it’s standing still. But it’s not.

I distracted myself. I stayed in constant movement, worried of spending too much quiet time alone. Too much time to think about what happened, what it meant, how I felt, how it changed me and my family. Every time I had time to think, I cried. And I got so sick of crying. I always cry alone, and after days and weeks of crying alone, it was just too much to take. It felt like I was crying too much. Can you cry too much when you lose someone? Then one day I realized how long it had been since I cried, and that felt wrong too.

I couldn’t do anything right. I didn’t know how I was supposed to act. Who I was supposed to talk to or what I was supposed to say. When was too much? When was not enough? When would I feel better? Would I ever?

I’ve been going through the motions. I’m clutching and clinging on, grasping at something I can never really hold onto - like fingernails digging into the edge of a cliff was all I had to keep me from falling off into an abyss. I’ve been surviving.

So the idea that there’s something else is dizzying. I don’t know what to make of it. I know that other people’s lives have been moving on. Life is happening around me, but I am not in it. I am not a part of it. I have just been distracting myself. Even the guys I’ve chosen to date in the past few months were distractions. Like a little candy or a shiny toy. Something to keep my mind off of how earth-shattering his death is for me.

“The Buddha said we need to look at our own suffering to understand it, otherwise it is like putting a band-aid on a sore: it may cover the sore for a while but eventually the band-aid will fall off and the sore will still be there.”

What if I let myself feel all of it? What am I so afraid of? I have to face this. I am strong enough. I know I am. I have to stop hiding and feel every day.

Rebirth. What is that rebirth? It sounds hard, it sounds challenging. Will it hurt too? I cannot take any more hurt. What would it ask of me? I’m not sure I’m capable of more than surviving right now. I can barely do the things I have to do. I’m barely hanging on. I’m not sure I can handle anything more.

And then, after the fifth or sixth time of rewinding and hearing those words, it hit me. Maybe I don’t have to do anything. Maybe the rebirth is just coming, maybe it’s just part of life. Maybe it’s just part of God’s plan. And knowing and trusting that this isn’t the end of my life or of me is all I have to do. Maybe the rebirth is just coming.

Shortly after my grandfather died, I read an article a woman wrote about taking care of her sister before she died died of cancer. She wrote about caring for her sister, watching her sister decline slowing and watching her die. She said through the experience, she “learned to live in the present and to decide in favor of things that would bring more life.”

That made sense to me. That made sense as the lesson that death brings, and I tried to hold that thought in my mind. To hold it in front of me every time I felt like I was losing this fight. And maybe keeping that thought captive – that life is a choice and that life can be more just as it can be less – will help me recognize the rebirth when it happens. And will help me say yes to it. It is important to always be open to hope and believe in possibility, and it’s important now more than ever.

“Although we have this precious human rebirth, it is only precious if we use it in a beneficial way.” - Ani Thubten Chodron

Dream Town?

2008-11-09T11:46:00.010-05:00

Ok. I was watching TV yesterday afternoon and saw the most disturbing commercial. It was for the "Rose Petal Cottage." Some cute pink and purple house for little girls to play in. It's "part of the Dream Town collection," whatever that means. I get that little girls play house, but what was so icky was the slogan. "Where her dreams can grow." Her dreams can grow about two feet before her tiny head slams into the plastic ceiling.

Let me tell you about this pastel synthetic house. It had a washer and a dryer. It had a stove. It also had a crib for a baby. That's it. This little girl's dreams can only grow so far. She can do laundry! Ooo ah. She can cook! Ohh. She can take care of a baby! Eee.

When I was little, I had Professional Barbie. I had Doctor Barbie. I had the Barbie Dream House too, but there was a lot more room in that plastic mansion than just cooking, cleaning and parenting. Barbie taught me how to accessorize and that women wore high heels and have big boobs. This distorted me in a whole different way. But at least Barbie had options.

I don't have especially high professional ambitions. I want to always be intellectually stimulated, and I want to feel like my job fulfills a purpose. I want to teach because I care about helping people and I love the exchange of ideas and continuing education. And I want to be a good wife and mother too. I am not choosing a side in the supposed "Mommy Wars." I believe every woman has the right to decide her own path to happiness.

But eee gads, can't we teach girls ways to play make-believe that stretch their dreams instead of limit them?

I Wish I Could Go Back to College

2008-11-07T15:20:00.013-05:00

I wish I could go back to college.
Life was so simple back then.
I wish I could go back to college.
In college you know who you are.
You sit in the quad, and think, "Oh my God!
I am totally gonna go far!"

I know I'm in grad school, but it's really not the same thing. One of my best friends, Lass (she's half-Irish - even has duel citizenship so how 'bout them apples), and I were reminiscing about the fun we had when we lived together. We were roommates for two years in college and had a total blast.

Our diet consisted of Bagel Bites, cheese balls (yes, the gross ones that come in a can), Cream of Wheat, hot tea and sex. Sex was a desert we almost always had in our freezer. It was this rich concoction of everything chocolate and sugary. I have no idea how we weren't 500 pounds.

We had a Magna-Doodle on the back of our front door, an idea we stole from Friends. Every day or so, we'd post a new quote. One of our favs came from an episode of That 70s Show - "Where zen ends, ass kicking begins."

Our apartment had great decorations. We had a penis puzzle above our toilet. It was the penis from the Statue of David that I brought back from Florence. Any guy that peed there had to stare at it. Our bathroom was full of yellow ducks - even the shower curtain and bath mat. Lass had a giant Maryland state flag on her wall a friend stole for her, and I had a giant cardboard poster of Madonna a friend stole for me.

Our favorite past-times included playing Mario Cart with our guy friends, watching every episode of Temptation Island with the men's lacrosse team and road trips to either the beach or the Bluebird Cafe in Nashville. We once went on a road trip to Maryland, and I let my boyfriend at the time go with us. I foolishly broke up with him on the trip so we had an 8 hour ride home with him sniffling in the backseat. Amazingly, Lass forgave me for creating the most awkward car ride ever.

Our favorite bands were the Counting Crows, Dave Matthews, Blink 182, Matchbox 20, Joni Mitchell, Janis Joplin and...eh hem...'N Sync. We knew every word to their album "No Strings Attached." We chose a side in the Christina v. Britney battle (Britney...we chose wrong). Our favorite movies were 10 Things I Hate About You, A Knight's Tale, Drive Me Crazy, The Adventures of Sebastian Cole, Outside Providence, Fight Club, Swingers and Shakespeare in Love.

We never missed an episode of Dawson's Creek because we thought Pacey and Joey were the greatest love story of all time. We boycotted the show when they broke-up, and when it ended, we taped the last episode and agreed only to watch it if Pacey and Joey had a happy ending. If they didn't end up together, we would pretend that the last ep never happened. Because they really were meant to be.

We lived near a duck pond and named our feathered friends - Buzz, Buster, Millie, Freddie and Ugly. Don't feel sorry for Ugly. He both looked and acted ugly. We briefly had a crazy cat named Pooka, who saw a ghost in one of our walls. Lass rescued a runt kitten named Squeaky Kitty, who was the most annoying creature on the planet so we gave her to the delivery guy from a Japanese restaurant. He said he knew someone with a daughter whose cat just died, and we chose to believe him.

I lived with a couple other friends my last semester, and I credit one of them with teaching me how to drink and date. I learned valuable lessons in college that I still use to this day. How to date casually, how not to get attached, how to date more than one person at the same time and how to let someone down gently (i.e. stop returning their phone calls). My friend was a bartender so I also learned that dancing on a bar could be super fun.

Yes, college was full of fun adventures and important lessons. But mostly, a lot of goofing off. I want to goof off. I want to go back to college. Whaa.

But if I were to go back to college,
Think what a loser I'd be-
I'd walk through the quad,
And think "Oh my God...
These kids are so much younger than me."

Breaking Up is Hard to Do

2008-11-06T12:22:00.014-05:00

I try hard not to censor myself on this blog. It’s important for me to have a space where I can tell silly stories, but especially to work out whatever’s on my mind at a given moment. It is important to have this outlet. Since my last break-up, I’ve been hesitant to write anything about it. It felt like I was censoring myself, but the boundaries were in my mind’s difficulty to make sense of it. I’ve spent the past six months trying to understand what happened and take it in.

I have worried and still worry that I won’t find anyone I connect with the way we connected or who will love me as well as he loved me. I’m worried he spoiled me, and I won’t have something that good again.

Sometimes I mention The X, and when I do, it’s usually a hint about “what went wrong.” I haven’t gotten too specific about that because it is complicated and also so close to my heart. The truth is I miss him. And I have missed him. I’ve thought about him every day since we broke up. He is a good man, and one I will always love and hopefully also one I will always know.

We were involved for three years. I wrote a post about it a year or so ago. Check it out – I was such a sap!

In August 2005, I got laid off from a job I hated. I wanted out of Atlanta, and I seized the opportunity to start fresh. Two weeks before I moved, I temped for a week as a receptionist. X worked there. I still remember the first time we talked.

I was trying to find a file on a computer, and someone was helping me. He stood close by and started humming, “Passenger Seat” by Death Cab for Cutie. I said, “Hey! I know that song. I love that band.” Months later, he confessed he was testing to see if I recognized a song by his favorite band. I am so clueless.

The last day I was there, he said he heard I was moving to DC. He loved it there and would be visiting soon. He asked for my number so he could call when he was in town. Again, oblivious me, I thought nothing of it. Until he called a couple days later, drunk after a long day of tailgating, and left the best voice message I’ve ever received.

“Hey. This is X. I just called to tell you I think you’re super cute. Super cute. I like you. And I know you’re moving next week, but before you go, we should get together and share some cold, domestic, light beers.”

It made me laugh a lot, and you know I called him back. How great is that message? It makes me grin just thinking about it. He’s such a straightforward communicator, and I was so attracted to that because I’m the same way.

I didn’t have any intention of seeing him before I left, but the guy I was dating at the time…well, that’s another story, but let’s just say things went south…so I thought, “You know what? I’m gonna call that guy who thinks I’m super cute and invite him to my going away party.” And I did just that.

We had fun, and at the end of the night, we stopped at a gas station and talked by his car. A homeless man asked me for money earlier when I was pumping gas, and I gave him a couple bucks. While X and I were talking, the same man came up and asked for money. I reminded him I’d already given him some, and X later told me it made him think I was the sweetest, cutest girl he’d ever seen. Aw. He said it made him want to kiss me, but he chickened out. What he did was give me Death Cab’s new cd and tell me it was a gift to remember him by. He was so cheesy, but you know me – I lapped it up.

We kept in contact with emails and phone calls, but nothing too serious. I just thought of him as a friend. Until one night, about two months after I moved, he called, and we ended up having one of those great, long conversations where you share everything about who you are. We talked for three or four hours that night. So long, my face was hot from my cell phone.

A few more super long conversations later, and we both bought plane tickets to visit each other. My weekend in Atlanta came two weeks before his weekend in DC. Riding up the escalator to baggage claim, my stomach was full of butterflies and nerves, and I saw him standing, waiting for me, holding a single red rose. Our first kiss was in the airport parking garage. In November 2005 – almost exactly three years ago.

It was a sweet beginning, but we later dubbed that “The Awkward Weekend.” He teased that I was a cold fish, and I joked that he had moon eyes. The truth was that I wasn’t ready for anything big or serious. I wasn’t over my last boyfriend. He really broke my heart, and it took me a year and a half to fully get over that and heal.

In that time, X waited, and we became close. He had a girlfriend at some point, I had a couple one-monthers, and every few months, we’d find ourselves pulled back together. There was something very real there that neither of us could let go of.

We had our problems. We didn’t work out. We weren’t meant to be. But I don’t want to talk about any of that. I don’t need another post-mortem. When I see him now, I don’t have the desire to kiss him. I don’t miss him that way. But I do want to hug him. I want to be near him. I want to have real conversations – something we were always able to do. I think we worked because we communicated. And we communicate in similar ways, which is near impossible to find.

We connect in a way I haven’t experienced before or, of course, since. We made sense to each other. He got me instantly. I never had to explain myself to him - he just knew me. In most of my relationships, that never happened. I've never been with anyone I could talk to the way we talked, never been able to open up in those ways or be totally intimate and vulnerable. One of my best friends told me yesterday that I seem like the most open person, but people who know me see that I’m not at all. With him, I was.

He's incredible - a writer and a firefighter with a master's in international affairs, such a Renaissance Man. We always have the best political discussions, and I miss sharing the Sunday paper over coffee. He always makes me laugh. We always have fun – it doesn't matter what we’re doing. We’re always comfortable. Everything's easy – no drama, no mess. I never felt nervous or that I had to watch what I said or did. He was my very best friend for three years. I miss that so much.

This summer was hard for me because I had to let go. Everything in DC makes me think of him. We only talked a few times a week. Text messages, emails. We talked on the phone just twice while I was in DC. It was too hard. When you share so much with someone, when there is so much love, it hurts because you know it can’t ever be like it was. Before, we told each other everything. We talked a couple times every day, which would normally annoy me, but never with him.

One night in June, a great date with a new guy was ending. As we walked past X’s old firehouse, the new guy asked if I wanted to spend the night. A million thoughts went through my head in that brief moment, but a big one was X. There was his firehouse. I even paused to glance at it. It felt like he was watching me. It’s a totally different thing when you’re used to looking into the eyes of someone you love who loves you than getting into bed with someone you hardly know. It ended up being a wonderful night, and one I don’t regret, but it was a tough first step. As moving on always is.

When my grandfather got worse this summer, there was only one person I wanted to talk to. And I couldn’t. A Friday night in August, I drove from DC to my grandfather’s house. His doctor visited that evening, and I sat on a bed in his house knowing that he was getting bad news just a few feet away. I cried. All I wanted was to talk to X. For a few moments, I wished we were still together because he would have been right there with me. And if not, he would have been calling and texting and checking in on his booger. Ha. He called me Booger, and I called him Goober.

When I saw him for the first time after my grandfather died, he asked lots of questions (he always asked questions, and I liked that because it made me feel like he cared). I answered them all honestly. But it felt different. It felt weird, I was guarded. I knew that as much as I wanted him to be the one I talked to about all that happened, he couldn’t be.

We’re seeing each other tonight, and I know it’ll be great. I always feel comfortable and safe with him. We still care about each other so much. As hard as it is to forge a friendship after a long, intense relationship, it is a necessity to both of us. I cannot imagine my life without him in it. I cannot imagine never knowing him. He helped me grow and change so much. He is a special man, and being a part of his circle is a special place to be. I am lucky to have known such love in my little life. I am lucky to call such a great man a close friend.

America! Fuck Yeah!!

2008-11-05T00:48:00.017-05:00

This is an incredibly important day. I am so happy and hopeful, words fail me. I hope you will forgive me, but I am going to write about politics tonight. I normally try to keep that out of my blog because although I am a very political person, I like to keep this space separate from that. I support your right to speak your mind and have your own individual opinions. Please respect mine. I believe President-Elect Barack Obama - there are no red states, no blue states, there are only the United States of America.

I spent the evening with friends at a gay sports bar in Atlanta. There was an Election Watch Party sponsored by a group of Obama supporters. I started out with a good friend, Sweet M, and then a large group of friends met up with us an hour later. It was a blast, but I do really miss DC.

I just had to watch the results in public, surrounded by people who share my views and would cheer when I cheered. It's like watching a UT game at a UT bar or a Colts game at a Colts bar. I once watched a Colts game at a Steelers bar and actually cried (Football is important after all - it was a big game and Sweet Tony Dungy's son had just died).

Georgia, our home state, was one of the first states called by CNN. It was red. Of course. And everyone in the bar booed loudly, which I found especially amusing. Booing our own state? I love this bar. Just like booing our own team at a UT or Yankees game - we demand perfection.

CNN was on almost every TV. Atlanta is, after all, CNN's home. I did ask our cutie waiter (gay as the day is long) to turn one of the channels to NBC because I love the little ice map. How do they color the ice rink? It's so exciting watching all the states change color ooo ahh. And I have to admit I have a bit of a crush on Brian Williams.

The best part of the evening (well, duh, aside from the result) was CNN's special graphics. Oh, they outdo themselves every year. I just can't wait to see John Stewart make fun of this one. They had...a hologram. Yes, Anderson Cooper, the Silver Fox, and Wolf Blitzer spent parts of the evening talking to a hologram. My favorite was when Will.I.Am. of the Black Eyed Peas appeared as a hologram. I'm not sure what his qualification was to appear on CNN, but I'm pretty sure it involved being a three-dimensional laser image.

Sweet M really enjoyed the hilarity of this special effect. Laughing, she pointed out, "I mean, a hologram? Are we in the 1980s? They do know the 80s are over, right? And that JEM and the Holograms already did this?"

Seriously. A hologram. Oh and the greatest was the tagline at the bottom said: Will.I.Am. Via Hologram. The big questions of the night were, "What is Anderson looking at when he talks to the hologram?" and "Are the holograms live? Or were they taped?"

Sweet M also pointed out that CNN was probably pretty pleased with their hologram graphic. "My question is, how long has CNN had this hologram technology just waiting in the wings? Were they saying, 'Ooo! Election Night's the night to unveil this to the world!'? Is it really that hard to do? Is it a big deal that CNN had the technology first?"

I suggested that perhaps MSNBC used cartoons (I love you, Keith Olbermann, but Ben Affleck did a good job of showing how cartoonish you can be) and Fox News had actual aliens (i.e. Bill O'Reilly and Karl Rove).

Sweet M and I must have looked troubled because a man came by our table and said, "Don't worry. I'm not worried. It's going to be ok. He's going to win. I woke up this morning, and I just knew it. I felt at peace."

We laughed and thanked him.

"When I woke up today, all I was thinking about was, 'What am I going to wear?' I am not a gay man that dresses. I don't dress well. But I wasn't worried about the election at all, just what outfit to put on."

He was our best friend of the night. Periodically, he came over and encouraged our group. At one point, he asked my name. I told him and he kissed my hand saying, "Yes, The Beautiful One." He went around the table complimenting the rest of my friends. The Sexy One. The Irresistible One. When Sweet M asked our friend for his name, he answered, "The One You Wish You Could Sleep With."

As the results were pouring in, I was sending and getting text messages from all my favorite people. None of us could believe it was really happening. I honestly bet my mother (my hardcore Republican mother) a bottle of wine that McCain would win. I was betting on America being easily scared, racist and ignorant. That's not to say that everyone who voted for McCain is any of those things (duh, of course not). Just that I thought there were enough terrible people in this great country to push McCain over the edge. I underestimated our nation. I was wrong. How dare I dismiss our progress so easily, how dare I deny myself hope.

America is taking a chance on something different. Right now, it's 1:06 am. I've been home for 20 minutes, and the horns have not stopped honking outside my Midtown apartment, the people are still cheering.

A couple of my friends saw that Oprah was crying and shouted that they were sure she was so happy, she was giving things away to everyone she met tonight. "You! You can have a house! A car for you! A European vacation for you! No! Houses for everyone!"

I have never been more proud to be an American. After 9/11, I reacted more like and felt more like a New Yorker than an American. Today, I finally see America for the first time. That's not to say I'm not patriotic, that I don't love my country or that I'm not grateful for all the freedoms I am blessed with. I am. But today, I see everything in America that I always believed in but had never seen or experienced so fully. I love America because I believe in equality. I believe in opportunity. I believe in taking care of our fellow man. I believe in grace and dignity for everyone. I believe in tolerance for difference. I believe in justice for all. And I actually, finally, believe that hope can be realized. It's as though everything I've ever believed about our country and about humanity became true in that moment. I am full of hope. God Bless the United States of America.

"It was we, the people; not we, the white male citizens; nor yet we, the male citizens; but we, the whole people, who formed the Union." - Susan B. Anthony

"I am a firm believer in the people. If given the truth, they can be depended upon to meet any national crisis." - Abraham Lincoln

"I like the dreams of the future better than the history of the past." - Thomas Jefferson

"I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character." - Martin Luther King, Jr.

"If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible; who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time; who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer...And to all those who have wondered if America's beacon still burns as bright – tonight we proved once more that the true strength of our nation comes not from the might of our arms or the scale of our wealth, but from the enduring power of our ideals: democracy, liberty, opportunity, and unyielding hope." - President-Elect Barack Obama

Forget The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, Where's the Party?

2008-11-04T17:17:00.009-05:00

Halloweeeeeen! My all-time favorite holiday. Every year seems to top the last. We had a huge group of crazy characters out – 15 in total. And there were some funny costumes. My friend JP was a Rorshach blot test. That was creative, but not many people got it. One girl asked if he was Captain Underpants. The funniest was my friend Gov dressed as a Douchebag. Did I mention he has a super serious job?

Oh my gosh, and I love the subway on Halloween. Everyone sitting around like everything's normal while wearing crazy costumes. I saw a hotdog, a taco and a puffy sponge. Last year, we saw three girls dressed as the Fanta Girls, and Gov actually worked with one of them.

I, of course, was Catwoman, and it was super fun. I had a whip and felt all tough and badass. I kept all of Adams Morgan safe from jewel thieves and muggers all night. You're welcome. When we were walking to the first bar, a guy dressed as a cat started talking to me. He thought I was with JP, and I did not correct him.

“You look hot.”

“Um, thank you.”

Then looking at JP, he said, “Sorry, dude. No offense.”

“None taken. She looks hot.”

“Meow!” He started laughing hysterically and pawing in the air like a crazy person. “Hey, if things with you two don’t work out, you and I can always go to an alley and drink some milk!”

“Yeah, that’s true…”

Then some random drunk guy dressed as a rasta guy (possibly not a costume?) said, “Hey, Catwoman. Hey, Cat Man.” I love drunk people.

We showed up at the first bar and started handing our IDs to the door guy. One colossal problem - I couldn’t find mine. I told the door guy, who seemed genuinely disappointed and told me I could come inside to look for it. I didn’t have it with me. I had my Metro card and my credit card, but no stinking driver’s license. Oh no – was Halloween ruined?

One friend offered to go back to the house with me. But the house is all the way in Fucking, Virginia, and even with taking a cab, I’d lose an hour and a half. Not to mention how expensive it’d be.

Aw, but my friend Britney Spears saved the night (she was dressed as Britney from the “Toxic” video). We’re both the same height, both have blue eyes and blond hair, and she suggested giving her ID to me. I could take a few friends, find another bar and test it out. If it worked, one of the friends would wait half an hour before getting Britney and everyone to meet me. Not to mention I was wearing a Catwoman mask so it'd be a slamdunk.

I thanked her and headed off to another bar. We walked up to the bouncer, and I was nervous! I’m such a bad liar. I tried talking to the guy in hopes of distracting him, but he looked suspicious and said, “Lift it up.”

I knew he was talking about my mask, but I was scared! I was such a little goodie-goodie I'd never even used a fake ID before. I did what Mama said, “Use what the good Lord gave ya.” I opened my coat and flashed my sexy Catwoman costume. The bouncers cracked up. The guy said, “The mask! The mask! I meant for you to lift up your mask!” So, between giggles, I did, and he told me to go in saying, “The next time you think someone’s saying that to you, the answer is no!”

Triumph.

We danced our little asses off all night long. I’m not sure that I love anything else more in the world than dancing. I always make friends with the deejay and spend half my night requesting songs. My one Halloween wish was to dance with a stranger, and that wish was granted. I danced with some guy who looked just like Usher. Hot.

I have decided that pirates have a thing for me so next year, I may be a pirate wench. Last year, a pirate told me, “Surrender the booty!” I laughed and asked if that worked on anyone. He sighed and said, “Not yet.”

This year, I got more pirate love. Dude was a scrawny, little thing, and after telling me he liked my costume, he asked what I was dressed as. Ha.

“I’m Catwoman. You’re a pirate, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Where’s your sword?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Where’s your parrot?”

“I don’t have one of those either. I do have an eyepatch though,” as he said this, he pulled his eyepatch down off his forehead and onto his eyes. But he got the string caught in one eye and panicked saying, “Oh! I can’t see! I can’t see!”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Be careful with that eyepatch - they're tricky. Good costume, though.”

“Thanks. I’ve had it since I was seven. I was a fat child, but I’m a small adult.”

So that was a lot of self-disclosure. Again, I love drunk people.

I didn’t see as many Sarah Palin’s or Joe the Plumber’s as I thought. We counted only two of each. I talked to one Sarah Palin, though. I said I had some really tough questions for her. She responded that she didn’t have any answers and then flashed an Obama shirt from under her suit jacket. I also saw Batman and challenged him to a fight. He responded with a pervy wink.

A friend I saw Saturday night showed me a photo of him from Halloween. He dressed as himself in a bubble bath. It was hilarious. He cut out the bottom of a white laundry basket and wore it around his waist. It was full of white balloons, and he wore a shower cap and goggles. He also carried a rubber ducky. So cute.

Boy woke up early Saturday morning and stepped outside to get something out of his car. It was around 8:30, and he spotted a dude doing the Walk of Shame from the Metro still wearing his costume from the night before. He said the guy was dressed as Super Mario and had a metal cart around his waist, complete with a steering wheel. He was Mario Cart. The funniest is the guy made the most of his absurdity by steering himself as he walked.

Seriously, there is no better holiday.

Quiet Heroes.

2008-11-04T13:46:00.004-05:00

Barack Obama's grandmother died last night. He spoke about her, and it made me think about my Papaw. I miss him so much. He really was such an encouragement to me and taught me to be strong and take chances. Our family will not be the same. I will not be the same.

Here is what Obama said:

"I'm not going to talk about it long because it's hard to talk about."

"She was one of those quiet heroes we have across America, who aren't famous. Their names aren't in newspapers. But each and every day they work hard. They look after their families. They look after their children and their grandchildren. They aren't seeking the limelight. All they try to do is just do the right thing."

In a statement released Monday afternoon, Obama and his sister said that Dunham was "the cornerstone of our family, and a woman of extraordinary accomplishment, strength, and humility."

"She was the person who encouraged and allowed us to take chances. She was proud of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren and left this world with the knowledge that her impact on all of us was meaningful and enduring. Our debt to her is beyond measure."

- cnn.com

Thank You, Coach Fulmer.

2008-11-03T15:09:00.007-05:00

Ok, I've been hating on Fulmer this season just like a lot of Vol fans who love their team and hate to see us losing so badly. Before the season started, I was upset because I love David Cutcliffe, and I was sad to see him leave us. I think he'd be a great head coach at UT, whether or not it ever happens. I love Fulmer, but like many, I do believe his career at Tennessee has run its course.

Today, after Saturday's loss to one of our greatest rivals, Steve Spurier, it was announced that our beloved coach will be leaving. Here's some information from my friends at the Knoxville News Sentinel about this decision:

"The announcement signifies the end of 16-plus seasons for Fulmer, which brought 150 victories, two SEC championships, five division titles and a national championship in 1998.

Since then, however, the Vols have failed to win an SEC championship despite winning the SEC East in 2001, 2004 and 2007.

The Vols are 3-6 and 1-5 in the SEC, which marks just the ninth time since 1896 that Tennessee has lost six games in a season. The Vols have only lost seven games in a season once, in 1977."

Regardless of anything, Fulmer is a true Tennessee Vol. He's been an outstanding coach, the players love him, everyone respects him, and he's done a lot for our little community. He will be missed and will always be loved.

Go Vols.

Here are some good stories about the coaching change -

Phil Fulmer Agrees to Step Down as Vols Coach

Fans Offer Plenty of Suggested Coaches

ESPN - Fulmer Agrees to Step Down

SI - Fulmer Will Not Return for UT

Seeing the Fulmer Situation from All Sides - This one is actually from last Friday about the mounting demands for Fulmer's ousting.

* I watched the coach's press conference. He cried, and I cried with him. He's been a Vol for forty years and loves Tennessee as much as we do. I don't believe we'll be able to find a coach with the kind of passion and love Coach Fulmer has for the Tennessee Volunteers. God bless you, Coach, and thanks for always giving your all to Tennessee.

Yosemite Sam! Put Those Guns Away! Can't We Talk This Through?

2008-11-03T11:07:00.014-05:00

I'm at an airport. Ick. And just made some random lady angry.

We were standing in line to check-in, and I noticed that a kiosk opened up. Politely, I said, "Ma'am, I think there's a machine open if you want to step up." She didn't say anything, but walked up to the machine. A man who had been talking to a customer service representative stepped back to the machine and started using it. He talked to the rep for a few minutes without touching the machine so I assumed he was not going to use it. Random Lady got mad and glared at me.

"Uh, I don't think so."

"Oh, I'm sorry, it looked like he wasn't using it."

"I may look old to you, but I'm not that old. I know what's going on."

"I'm sorry, I was just trying to help."

She looked 45. At the most. I shook my head in confusion and tried not to let her negativity make me all crabby too.

I don't get anger. I just don’t get it. I am a simple person, often times too simple and so I can miss complexities of a situation that may seem obvious to other people. I don't like to overcomplicate anything or overanalyze, which can sometimes mean that I’m naive. I'm just a simple girl. I rarely get mad and often find myself confused when other people are.

It's a silly emotion to me. Sometimes when someone is mad about a small thing, I think to myself, "Oh, I wish you could see how ridiculous you seem right now because then you wouldn't be mad, you'd be laughing." I laugh at myself sometimes when I get mad and realize how silly I'm acting. I think it's healthy and necessary to be able to recognize the absurd in yourself.

To me, the most frustrating thing in the universe is a misunderstanding. I know a lot of people hated that movie Babel, my good friend E is one, and there are good reasons why. But I liked it because it did a great job at showing how even the smallest misunderstanding could have serious and severe consequences.

Most conflicts, if not all, begin with some form of misunderstanding. And I do understand how frustrating that is, I get frustrated too when it happens, especially when it involves someone we care about because we expect and want those people to understand us. But I almost never get mad. Getting mad doesn't solve the conflict or bring about a quick, peaceful resolution - it just perpetuates the situation and makes it worse.

I talk it out. I explain where I was coming from, I try to understand where the other person was coming from, and my goal is always to get to a place of mutual understanding. I don’t think everyone does that. I don’t think everyone thinks critically about how they contributed to a situation or what they could have done wrong.

Someone told me once that 80% of the time, anger comes out of fear, but people rarely recognize that. When someone gets mad at me, I wonder what fear could be contributing to that. And when I get mad, I ask myself, “What am I afraid of?” That always helps me see the bigger picture of what’s going on.

My friend, Boy, was out with us for Halloween. His sister was in town so she met up with us too, and while she was dancing, some guy shoved her. He was trying to get through the crowd, she was drunk and probably dancing erratically and blocking his way. She shoved him back, and that started a fight. She wasn't mad, but he was furious. She just kept saying, "It's cool. You pushed me, I pushed back. We're even. Let's dance!"

Which just made him madder. Mad people hate it when you don't get mad too. I think it makes them feel like you don't understand what's going on or that you don't care.

When the guy saw he couldn't get through to her, he turned to Boy and, thinking they were dating, said, "You gotta keep an eye on your woman. You gotta keep the bitch in check." Any brother would get defensive and mad if anyone called his sister a bitch, but Boy just thought the whole situation was ridiculous and laughed it off. "She's my sister. Whatever." The mad guy stormed off.

The Bible says not to let the sun go down on your anger. In a romantic relationship, I take that very literally. With friends and family, I take it to mean that we have to resolve any misunderstanding or conflict quickly and with respect for one another. With strangers, I try to restrain myself from talking to them further and just drop it. Another key to resolving conflicts is recognizing which battles are worth fighting and which are worth dropping.

I had to stop myself from saying anything more to Random Lady. I just sighed to myself and moved on. Thinking about how confusing it is for someone's first reaction to be anger and praying she has a better day.

Leavin' On a Jet Plane...Don't Know When I'll Be Back Again...

2008-11-01T14:32:00.012-04:00

I love to travel, but hate flying. But if I wanna hang out with my awesome friends who live far away, I gotta deal with all the crap that goes along with it. I bit the bullet and flew up to DC yesterday for a fabulous Halloween weekend with my favorite people.

While standing in what seemed like the longest security line ever, I spotted a guy trying to cut the line. I hate cutters. Line cutters, that is. You might be more important than me, and you might have a more important place to be, but the fact is you’re still flying coach with the plebes. So chill out and wait like the rest of us suckers.

I kept looking at him, trying to place him because he looked so familiar. He reminded me of someone I’d seen in a movie or TV show, but I just couldn’t figure out who. Then it hit me. Peter Griffin from Family Guy. That's right - the guy with an ass for a chin. He looked exactly like him! A real life Peter. When I realized it, I had to turn my face because I couldn’t contain my grin.

He was supposed to be three people behind me. But he was trying to cut two people in front of me. Ooo ahh, Peter, being in front of five whole people is really gonna make all the difference in your day. I saw others in line noticed he was cutting too and decided to wait and see what happened. The guy he tried to cut in front of eventually moved up quickly so Peter couldn’t cut. The guy in front of me did the same thing, and I followed suit as did the guy behind me. The fifth person was nice or maybe just timid and let Peter cut. I’m sure that was a sweet victory for the lazy bastard.

Before I knew it, I was standing in another line. The line to get on the freaking plane already. I hate the zones. Why do they have zones? As if relegating us to “coach” isn’t enough, they have to place us in another hierarchical order of importance.

And where did “coach” come from anyway? I don’t get it. I’m not a coach. Maybe there was once a Joe the Coach like Joe the Plumber, and he was some kind of everyman all us schmoes were supposed to identify with. Or maybe it just sounded better than "Last Class" or "The Po' Folks Section."

Regardless, I always manage to be in the last possible zone. Zone 7. Which means I’m one of the last to board the plane, which means I’m one of the last to put my stuff in the overhead bins, which means I usually have to move shit around or store my stuff five rows back. Really, though, I’m not bitter.

So I’m standing in line contemplating my inferior place in the world and who I’d have to flash to score a Zone 5 pass. I mean, I’d settle for Zone 5, geez. And I hear an argument behind me. There’s a young married couple with a toddler in a stroller. I hear the woman exclaim, “We’re not sitting together?"

"Uh...I guess."

"You didn’t click sit together? Why didn’t you click sit together?”

“I dunna know, you didn’t tell me to.”

“It’s called common sense!”

At this point, I start to silently chuckle and pray they don’t notice my shoulders bouncing up and down in hysterics. Because sorry, bro, but it is common sense.

“It’s no big deal.”

“It is a big deal. We’re not sitting together. It’s common sense. You should’ve known to click sit together.”

“So we’ll just get someone to switch with us.”

“You. You’ll get someone to switch with you. I can’t believe this.”

I can’t believe this either, lady, I’ve already been amused by some pretty entertaining characters, and I’m not even on the airplane yet. Who needs to pay ten bucks for a tiny bottle of cheap wine when you've got clowns like this around you?

I tried to keep an eye on them once we were on the plane to see if they did switch seats. I couldn’t tell, but I did hear the woman say, “I can’t believe we’re not sitting together.” And sigh loudly. Not sure if that helped their case or not. I do know that was one bumpy ride…

There's a Pep in My Step

2008-10-30T22:18:00.014-04:00

So I saw my mountain man today. Damn, is he cute. We've been talking on the phone since the wedding, and as I happened to be driving through Chattanooga today, I stopped by his house and hung out. Not quite a first date because it was really just a hang out. So I guess you could call it our first hang out. Aw.

He had a few friends over, which was fun but made me sorta nervous. At first, he ignored me a little in that hard-to-get sort of way. I almost got a bit miffed because the girl likes attention, but then I figured it out. He was shy. This guy is an extreme extrovert - extreme! - but also actually shy. He kept looking at me out of the corner of his eye. Then when I'd catch him, he'd flash a side grin like he was blushing. Adorable. Later on, his friends showed me some videos they made together, and he got all embarrassed. I caught him checking out my boobs a few times too, which I always think is a good sign that if anything the guy finds me attractive.

I don't think this one has much long-term potential, but definite short-term fun. He had me laughing nonstop. Even joked about our old friend from the wedding when he asked if I managed to score Hollywood's number. When I said no, he said, "Ah well, he works in film so he does alright." And when I teased him about wearing flip flops to the wedding, he defended himself by saying they were his dress flip flops.

And, sure, I gave him the mountain man nickname because of his grizzly scruff and the fact that he enjoys the great outdoors, but geez he's tough. The guy rock climbs. He has a climbing wall inside a shed in his backyard. And he does something so hardcore I'd never even heard of it before today - bouldering. It involves scaling a giant boulder with bare hands and no harness or help of any kind. The dude just climbs a boulder all on his own. I saw videos - it's incredible. H-O-T. Definitely gonna see this one again...

In other news, I tried my Catwoman Halloween costume on tonight! It's officially my favorite costume ever. It fits perfectly and makes me feel badass. Watch out, Batman.

I've Got a Crush.

2008-10-26T23:02:00.008-04:00

On Mandy Moore. She's all grown up now, and her music is too. My favorite is "Gardenia," which you should check out. I'm the one who likes to make love on the floor. She's a pop tart no more, folks. And you know what? I'm not embarrassed. I like Mandy Moore. I like Mandy Moore's music. There! I said it. Doesn't it just feel better to be honest?

I'm looking forward to looking back on these days
And I'm fine, but I'm not okay
I'm looking forward to looking back on these days

That's from her song, "Looking Forward to Looking Back," and it's been in my head all day. I know this experience is one that I'll be able to look back on. I'll be able to look back and remember how hard it was, how alone I was (because it is something everyone goes through alone), how every day felt. Knowing that there will be a moment where I can look back helps because it means I'll make it to that point somehow, some day.

What do you do when you're going through a rough time?

Last spring, I had a very bad day and bought myself an ice cream cake. I like ice cream cake, and I normally don't eat sugar so that was quite a treat. I got mad at The X, though, when he ate my icing flowers. Nobody eats my icing flowers on my "I had a bad day" cake!

Sometimes I buy myself a pair of shoes. This explains why I own too many to fit in my closet. Sometimes I dance around in my living room. I still have my ballet slippers, and I keep them for just this reason. I am a silly girl indeed.

Sometimes I get my nails done or do them myself. I also like to cuddle up in my jammies on the couch watching a good movie with my puppy. Or I take a bubble bath and drink a glass of red wine. I listen to good music. I cook something delicious. I write a blog or read something for fun. I really love daisies, they're my favorite, and every once in awhile, I need flowers so I buy myself some. I call a good friend. Or my mommy. I look at pictures of fun times and people I love.

I always go back to people. That's what helps me most of all. I value my alone time - I need it and sometimes even crave it - but it's the people in my life that lift me on bad days and through bad times. I am loved. And the people I love are truly amazing. God did not design us to live life on our own. He said it was not good. We need companions. And I have the best of the bunch in the boat with me. When I do look back, that's what I'll see - the people that helped me through it step by step.

Grab That Net and Catch That Beautiful Butterfly!

2008-10-23T16:02:00.013-04:00

Jerry Maguire was the Lord of the Living Room, and I am the Lady of Weddings. I joke that I go to weddings all the time, but I’ve only been to two in ’08. No, I am the Lady of Weddings because I’m really a Wedding Slut.

I always meet a guy at a wedding. If I’m going to a wedding single, I’ll either hook up with someone or leave having given out my digits. Or both. Last Saturday, my stepsister got married. I love her to bits, but see her every few years because she lives in Hawaii. I know, I know, I should visit, but tickets are damn expensive.

She and her now husband are both park rangers. They love the earth. And good for them. I love the earth too, but not enough to have a “green” wedding. Green as in good for the environment, but also green because it costs more money. I’d rather have a wedding with a big ass carbon footprint if it means more guests. Weddings are about people, people. So that’s my rant.

Everything was recycled. Everything was organic – even the alcohol. The cake tasted like a Nerf ball it was so spongy and flavorless. The funniest part is they had organic flowers flown in from California. I’m pretty sure all that jet fuel canceled out any good they were doing. My poor stepfather was confused because he thought all flowers were organic.

The wedding was outside in the beautiful Smokey Mountains at the Lily Barn. Evidently when they’re in season, the place is full of lilies. In October, it’s just friggin’ cold. The ceremony was beautiful surrounded by red and gold leaves, but eee gads the reception inside a log pavilion with just one wall was straight up chilly.

I didn’t know what to expect of the guests, but it was an interesting mix of people freezing their asses off in either Hawaiian shirts or Birkenstocks.

Before the wedding, a girl asked if I was at the rehearsal dinner. I said, “No, I couldn’t go because I teach in Atlanta on Friday afternoons so I wouldn’t have been able to get here in time.” Then she asked if I taught yoga. Strange, but I answered, “No, I’m in grad school so I teach at a college.” Her response? “Oh, I thought you looked like a yoga instructor because your body looks so alive.” Thank you? That has to be one of the oddest things anyone’s ever said to me.

My parents were quite productive at the rehearsal dinner, however. Saturday morning, Mom gave me the lowdown on who they determined to be the wedding’s most eligible bachelors. Bachelor #1 lives in Los Angeles and is 25 or 26. Uh uh. Bachelor #2 is originally from London (hot accent, great city) and currently lives in Greece. Seriously? I mean, I’m a big girl and can handle long distance, but I’m pretty sure dating a guy on another continent would have its challenges. Bachelor #3 lives in Hawaii and may or may not have a girlfriend.

“Thanks, Mom, but it sounds like none of these guys are date-able.”

“Well, you never know. They’re cute, and they’re single…well, except for maybe that one…and at least you’ll have somebody to dance with!”

As I sit down for the ceremony, I spot a good looking guy on the back row. He’s not next to a girl so I wonder if he’s one of the bachelors. He has hot mountain scruff and a good smile. I decide to keep an eye on him. I wasn’t planning on doing much dancing, but as cold as it was, I knew I’d need to stay in constant movement so my toes didn’t fall off.

The ceremony ends, and everyone headed up the hill to the reception. After sitting at my table for awhile, I realize I’m shivering and look over at the fireplace. To see my hot mountain man standing over there. I seize the day and walk over to him. Shaking my ass a little, I say, “Hey, move over and stop hogging the fire. I’m cold!” He laughs and says, “Ooo, you’ve got sass. Yes, ma’am!” I love it when a guy likes my sass. I like my sass.

We talk for awhile, and he’s completely hilarious. The guy has absolutely no filter, which is fascinating. And amusing. He also has the thickest, funniest East Tennessee accent that for some inexplicable reason I found adorable. He is, however, wearing flip flops so I have to tease, “Why exactly are you wearing flip flops? You do realize we’re in the mountains in mid-October, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I know. But it was either flip flops or my muddy hiking boots. I thought these were more wedding appropriate.”

I think to myself, It’s too bad he only owns flip flops and hiking boots. This guy can’t be my soulmate because he’d never understand my shoe habit. (Yes, occasionally crazy thoughts like that do run through my head.)

He tells me he’s sitting with people from Hawaii and is teaching them how to talk redneck. Two of them are giving a toast later, and he suggested ways to give their speech a little Tennessee flair. “I told ‘em they should end it with somethin’ like, ‘There’s a shitload of love here, y’all!’ or maybe ‘Hot damn!’ but I’m not sure they’re gonna take my advice. We’ll see, though, so just know if you hear one of those, it was my idea.”

Eventually, it’s time to eat so we head back to our tables. Where I find both my parents totally smashed. The food hasn’t even been served yet. My mother is giggling at everything, and my stepfather shares that he saw the Paris Hilton sex tape and was not impressed. I bury my head in shame and announce that I’ll be the D.D.

Once the dancing starts, I drag my stepfather out there to get our groove on. He and my mom took dancing lessons, and he’s actually pretty good. On our way back to our seats, we walk past Bachelor #1. My drunk stepdad tells the guy, “Now don’t forget, I might be paying you in peanuts, but I want you to dance with my daughter tonight.” #1 smiled at me and said he’d be happy to, and my stepdad looks at me and says, “I’m pimping you out!” Parents should not be allowed to consume alcohol in public.

Later, while I’m talking to the cute mountain man, #1 comes over. It’s uncomfortable because I’m thinking #1 is interested, but I’m not, and in fact am actually interested in the other guy. The two of them starting talking and Mountain Man asks #1 where he’s from. To which he replies, “Hollywood.” It took all I had not to bust out laughing. He then talks about his job and says, “It’s complicated, but basically, I do marketing for movies. I work in film.” Trying too hard, young one. Mountain Man pushes for details because he actually owns a marketing company, but ends up just getting a definition for marketing. My mom saves me by forcing me to jump for the bouquet. A tradition I loathe.

I eventually do dance with #1. It’s a slow song, and he spins me around so fast I actually get dizzy. Though the organic wine may have contributed. I spent the remaining part of the wedding skirting him. My parents have terrible taste. Not only was “Hollywood” hopelessly cheesy, but he lives on the opposite side of the country and is a few years younger. While Mountain Man is 33 and lives two short hours away from me, which with my schedule, is hardly even long distance. Not to mention he was smart, funny, laidback…

At the end of the night, I can tell that Mountain Man is about to ask for my number. And, of course, my parents walk up, telling me it’s time to go. Mom is grinning ear to ear and nodding drunkenly at the guy. While my stepdad interrogates him and stops just shy of inquiring after his intentions. I promptly gave Mom a death glare, and she dragged my stepfather to the car.

We flirt a bit longer while walking slowly to the parking lot. Some guy I haven’t seen in ten years stops us and blabbers for 15 minutes so by the time we get to the lot, my parents are in the car and waiting anxiously by the exit. Subtle, folks. Mountain Man nervously laughs about feeling sixteen and says he’ll call soon. Which he did yay.

* For those of you who missed the reference, the title of this post is from the movie Wedding Crashers. Probably the best wedding movie ever. Crab cakes and football! That's Maryland!

Why I Should Be a Celebrity

2008-10-23T11:28:00.010-04:00

I wouldn't say dumb or crazy shit. And neither would you. Actually, maybe that's why we're not celebrities. Dumb and crazy is interesting.

"I went in like a crop-duster with my nose flying first and snorted the cocaine off the dog. You get a little bugs, you get little hairs, you get grease and goo from the ground; it's not at all a healthy thing to do." - Gary Busey explaining how he reacted after accidentally spilling cocaine on his dog

"Do I have a large frog in my hair? Something's crawling out of my scalp. No, but I mean I feel it. I'm not worried about the looks. I'm worried about the sensation of my brain being eaten." - Joaquin Phoenix being interviewed on the red carpet at a movie premiere

"Don't ever paint your boobs. Really. It sucked. I learned my lesson. I'm never gonna paint my boobs ever again. It's not worth it. Do not paint your boobs. It's a pain in...the boobs." - Kendra from The Girls Next Door...after she painted her boobs

The Lord is My Shepherd

2008-10-22T23:09:00.029-04:00

Grieving is hard. It's not a quick or easy process. Sometimes people ask me how I'm doing. I don't know how to answer that question. They're showing concern and acknowledging what I'm going through, but doesn't it seem like a question they know the answer to? "How are you?" "Not good. Rotten. Sad." And half the time I'm not sure if they really want the truth or if asking is a gesture. I can usually tell by the way it's asked or who's doing the asking. No one knows what to do or say, but that's ok. The trying matters.

I feel something different every day. Any hour of the day it could completely change. The feelings come at you so matter-of-fact, like a realization that you're hungry or remembering a task that needs to be done that day. I realized a couple weeks ago, I was angry. It almost made me laugh, I was so surprised and confused. I don't really get angry. Life is too short, people are too important, hearts are too fragile. But I felt like the girl in that movie Enchanted. Do you remember the scene where she realizes she's angry for the first time? That's kind of how it feels.

I do everything slower. I read slower, I respond to voicemail slower, I'm slower when I get ready to leave or do simple things like the dishes. I'm forgetful like my mind is moving slower. It's not that life is in slow motion - it's just me. And life is happening around me at its regular pace.

My adviser is wonderful. She's actually the reason I chose this school, and if you're thinking about grad school, let me give you a little advice. The adviser you choose to work with is just as important as the school you choose to attend. We had a meeting last Friday, and she asked how I'm doing. She wanted me to talk to her. She told me about her father's death and what she went through. And we cried together. Right there in her office, while we were supposed to be meeting about the research we're working on. Because in the middle of meetings, in the middle of routines, life is happening. I told her I feel like this is changing me, I keep saying that because it's a feeling I'm so conscious of, and she told me it would change me, but how was up to me. That made me feel a little more in control right when I'm feeling more out of control than ever.

I've been getting a lot of attention from guys lately, more than I'm used to. This perplexes me. How can I be attractive when I feel so not myself? One thing a friend told me would happen is that my emotions would be closer to the top, that I'd be more sensitive. That is happening, but I call it raw. I feel raw. Like the new skin that shows when you burn yourself. So today, I was wondering how in the world I'm sending a, "Come hither," message. And it occurred to me that maybe it's more of a, "Here I am," message. Maybe the raw honesty is attractive? I don't know.

It's not as unbelievable now. That he's gone. I think I'm starting to get used to it. And I hate that. It feels unnatural, like a betrayal. I want more hugs. He gave the best hugs. He squeezed tightly, and his hands were so strong you felt protected. In these last few years, whenever he hugged me, I held on longer. I wanted to cling to him all day long like a child clutching a teddy bear because of the comfort and safety it provides.

I try to act like myself, like everything's fine. That helps in some way, it helps me go through the motions and distract myself. I'm faking it to make it. But it's always there, the sad is always with me. In the pit of my stomach, the quickening of my pulse. I wonder if I'm fooling anyone. Or everyone.

I have a couple people I talk to, a couple I've tried to but can't, a couple I know I could if I needed to. I have no idea what my life will be like months from now. I can barely think about tomorrow or next week. It is a process. A process at least means it's something I'm moving through. Psalms 23 says, "Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil." Through. It's something you get through - not stay in forever. And on the other side, I will be different. I will be changed. But I will also be good.

Thanks. I promise a funner post tomorrow.

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

2008-10-22T00:40:00.019-04:00

I love this picture. If you watch closely, even in the middle of a very public moment, you can sometimes catch Barack and Michelle sharing an intimate moment. Usually just a subtle look. Or even (dare I say?) the infamous "terrorist fist bump." I actually loved that - I thought it was genuine and sweet. These two people really love each other.

- Callie Shell

TAG! I'm So It.

2008-10-19T23:15:00.019-04:00

I've been tagged by Lipsmacker at Lipstick Diaries! Thanks, chickie!

Here are the Rules:
1. Link to the person that tagged you
2. Post the rules on your blog
3. Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself
4. Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs
5. Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.
6. Let your tagger know when your entry is up

Six random things…eee gads, I feel like I’ve already told you everything, but I’ll give it a shot. I'd also like to point out that this is my second blog of the day. Somebody's clearly procrastinating...

1. My apartment is dirrty. Just like that muddy warehouse in the Christina Aguilera video, but without the boxing ring and sweaty guys. I’ve been in and out of town for over two months, and it’s really apparent. There are piles of clothes and books everywhere. It looks like the feds ransacked my apartment looking for incriminating evidence…but all they'd find is nerdy academic journals and crumpled up jeans. I wouldn’t want anyone I know to see it like this for fear they would permanently judge my character. But especially my mom. She’d ground me for a month and take away my TV and phone privileges.

2. For the first time in my life, I’m seriously considering getting a tattoo. It’s been on my mind since my grandfather passed. It would be white and on my right wrist. I’m still not committed to it, and I don’t know if I ever will, but I just thought this experience is changing me so much, I want to honor it. It’s a permanent scar on my soul so it seems only fitting to have a visible mark of it on my body. I’ll keep you posted.

3. I’m not a fan of spaghetti. I make great sauce - it’s the noodles I have a problem with. They’re just too messy. You can’t keep them on your fork and always have to suck them into your mouth. I would never eat spaghetti on a date. I’m really particular about what I eat on dates actually. I love wings, and Mexican is my absolute favorite, but eating those foods on a date before things are really comfortable…uh uh. I’d be too worried about grossing him out. Once a guy’s seen me naked, sure, ok, he can see me slurp up noodles, get dirty wing hands and shove tacos that are falling apart into my mouth.

4. I teach undergrads, and the class has about 35 students. On Friday, one of my students raised his hand and thoroughly embarrassed me. He said, “I have something I’ve been wanting to get off my chest. I think you’re really pretty. And, um, actually very sexy too.” My mouth gaped open. I was dumbstruck. A girl pointed and said, “Look! She’s turning red!” All I could think to say was, “Thank you. But I’d rather you just add a chili pepper to my ratemyprofessor profile.” I was mortified! Ok, it’s funny for half a second, but the guy really undermined my authority, and it was wholly inappropriate. And icky. It was really icky. Don't get me wrong - I love being told I'm pretty and sexy, in fact I can't hear it enough - but by a 20 year old who's supposed to respect and revere me? It made me feel more like a girl than a professor, which isn’t right.

5. When I was in college, I did a study abroad in London. I happened to be there at the same time that Madonna was in town for a movie premiere. So, as I am utterly stupid for Madge, I, of course, went. We were the crazies that shout at the famous people as they walk up the red carpet. A friend and I balanced each other standing on the rim of a metal trash can for an hour and a half just for a glimpse. We finally saw her, and it was the most breathtaking 25 seconds of my life. I shouted, “I LOVE YOU, MADONNA!” and I think if she had heard me, it would be me sitting next to her at the Versace fashion shows instead of Gwyneth. Sigh.

6. I am ridiculously addicted to coffee. If caffeine didn’t have such a strong effect on me, I’d drink it all the time. But it is quite potent, which is really part of its charm. I need caffeine. I need it. Every single morning. If I don’t have my coffee, I get a headache and I’m cranky because my eyes won’t open. Sometimes I drink so much, my little fingers shake. I can drink it without any sweetener (sugar-free, of course), but not without cream or milk. And remember that song a few years ago, “Meet Virginia”? I loved it because it said, “She only drinks coffee at midnight, when the moment is not right, her timing is quite unusual.” I do my best studying at night, and in college, I always studied at Waffle House because it was cheap, open all night and they had unlimited refills on coffee. I stopped after a giant cockroach crawled across my table. I still have a hard time going to Waffle House, and it’s been 8 years since that happened. Didn’t turn me off coffee, though, cuz nothing ever could. If coffee was a man, I'd marry it.

Now you're it!

* All these ladies are awesome, but I'm a dirty cheater so I'm tagging a 7th blogger. This girl's damn funny - I read a 3-part series about a bachelorette party she went to and think we may have been separated at birth. Check out my newest internet friend - At Least I'm Skinny.

Ryan Adams Has Troubles

2008-10-19T14:22:00.011-04:00

I like my musicians like I like my men - slightly crazy in the head. Some of my favorites include Janis Joplin (the crazy killed her), Bob Dylan (the crazy's keepin' him alive), Adam Duritz (half the time he performs crazy drunk), Madonna (her crazy is still going strong) and I do love John Mayer despite the fact that he's a bit of an ass and rumor has it is now a junkie. Ryan Adams is as crazy as the day is long, and he did not disappoint Friday night. He brought the crazy full on.

Sadly, I did not make out with Ryan Adams or even meet the poor boy. Cuz he had a freak out. He was scheduled to perform for three hours - there wasn't even an opening act - but after an hour, he announced that his voice didn't sound good and he was embarrassed and humiliated and couldn't perform anymore. He left the stage dejected and pathetic. The crowd erupted in boos. I think some people even threw trash at the roadies.

I didn't mind too terribly much, though, because I got to see my favorite musician and he played my favorite song. Also, in a disturbing way, I'm turned on by his dark and brooding nature. I think only my love can fix him. Though I do have to admit I was pretty bummed that there was no harmonica player because the harmonica makes "Come Pick Me Up" the beauty that it is. And, of course, I fantasized that Mr. Adams was artfully skilled at my favorite instrument so learning he did not play it popped that bubble for me.

But the next time I see Ryan Adams, I'll jump his bones. That's a promise.

Breaking News Bulletin!!

2008-10-17T16:42:00.005-04:00

Ok, you know how I say I have the greatest ex-boyfriends? Well, I really do. Tonight I'm going to a concert with one of those wonderful men. To see Ryan Fucking Adams. I love him. He is a music god. He is the man of my dreams...the naughty ones. And I have never seen him in concert. But my friend happens to have a job that lets him do cool things like take friends to concerts and is taking lucky me to the show tonight. We're sitting in his super close seats, and...wait for it...I might even get to meet Ryan after the show. My friend hung out with Kid Rock last night and hangs out with rock stars fairly regularly so there's a high probability.

I just want you to know that as he is one of my top five dude celebs, I am allowed to be totally slutty on this most special occasion. For once in my life, I will live up to the legend of Penny Lane by being the best band-aid there ever was. The whole of my life has led up to this one moment, and I will not disappoint destiny. Ryan, take me, I'm yours.

Seriously. Look at his face. He's so asking for it.