No Guarantees

The world is round and the place which may seem like the end may also be the beginning.
 ~Ivy Baker Priest


Now there's no guarantee that my heart will not be broken - love always carries that threat.  There is no guarantee of anything in this life but it is simply time for me to start something new.  The journey has been grand - it's been big - it's been teetering on complete madness from time to time and it's been worth noting.  Three and a half years of noting.  Still, it's time for me to move in a new direction.  It's time for me to leave the path behind and rejoice in the clearing at the end of this path.

There's no guarantee that I won't trip a few times more - clumsy as I am, that may be the only guarantee that I can give.  Thank you for reading and I hope that you'll join me on my new blog.  This blog has been a coping technique for me as well as a healing tool.  For many things though without realizing it, it has been primarily what I have used to get out all the aggressions and transgressions of one fateful night nearly four years ago.  The thing - the situation - the reality of confusion surrounding the one thing I rarely talk about. The one thing I thought I was all the way over but the nightmares as of late - spawned by all sorts of positives (believe it or not) have assured me that I wasn't over it but merely in phase two of a three phase cycle.  I started it with the intention of logging my bipolar reality.  But - it quickly became something more.

As integration takes hold - as it needs to - for not only this one thing (though it remains primary) but many things that I simply wish to leave behind - I have made the decision that there are many things that I need to leave behind.  Never forgetting but no longer reliving.  It's time for a new chapter, a new journey, a statement that my past will no longer chain me, weigh me down and cause me to stumble as often as I have.  Does it all go away just like that? (Snaps fingers.)  Of course not.  But - as I make the decision to follow my heart instead of my mind, my defenses and my fears, I can taste, smell and actualize the freedom I have wanted for so long.

I do wish for you to join me.  If you have any interest in hearing about my new life... please feel free to check out my profile on this page or hit the little email symbol at the bottom of the post in order to get the link... you'll see my new blog under it... Something More.  If you do not, I wish you the best of luck, the best of life and healing for anything that may be weighing you down, just as the night of July 3, 2007 weighed me down.  (Yes, before I started writing this blog.)  The confusion may never be completely cleared up... the factors involved just don't add up in so many ways.  Consent at first turns into a frozen inability to say "get the fuck off me" once the pain began and I mananged to dissolve before both of our eyes.  Humiliation turned quickly to flashbacks and textbook reactions that I simply remained unaware of until the past several days.  Guilt.  Phobias.  Anger.  Confusion.  The inability to feel.  Textbook, textbook, textbook.  To make it clear... that July night wasn't the only bad experience I've had with men - not by a longshot - it just happened to be the pinnacle of a very, very long road.  And this path I've been tripping down ever since, well, it's been the way out of a very dark wood.  Even when the sun broke through the trees from time to time.  The darkness always prevailed.

That is... until I met Numero Cinco.  Whom I will give a proper pseudonym in the new blog.  He makes me want to get better and be better.  If it hadn't been for that one night... the night I literally peeled away from... thanking God that I did eventually get away.  "You can't leave. I'm going to make you motherfucking bacon."  (The motherfuck is mine - the rest was his.)  I was scared but I left anyway... faking it all the way out to my car... assuring him I would see him later that night, knowing there was no way that I would.  After relief came a flood of confusion and stale emotions... shaking and humility.  Guilt.  Anxiety attacks and disassociation.  The extreme desire to simply run away... get away... move away.  Textbook.  I can't say that enough times.  If it hadn't been for that one night, I wouldn't have gotten medicated... I wouldn't have bothered... and I wouldn't have met the guy that I now call mine.  Or, at least, not likely.  I honestly don't know where I would be.  But - I wouldn't have been here.     

God Bless, my faithful readers.  If you hadn't been here, I'm not sure exactly what I would have done.  Checking my analytics and seeing that I had readers all over the US really brought me a joy that only a writer can understand.  Thank you, thank you, thank you.  I love you - even without knowing some of you.  Please feel free to call me at my new home.  I'm excited but I very well may - at times - get a little homesick.

Coming Soon

Not so thrilled with my last post.  Feels kind of like a dead horse sitting there.  But - that's what 4 hours of sleep and a 16 hour shift at a job you do NOT love will give you.  (Even if there is alot of truth behind it, there was no point in pointing it out.)

So I've been working every day for the past several weeks.  By the time all is said and done it will be 20 days without a break.  Which doesn't exactly thrill me though sometimes you just do what you have to, right? 

I am hoping to have more to say soon... very, very soon.

Getting Past the Prologue

What is past is prologue
-William Shakespeare

The comedy was nowhere near as offensive as I've seen in the past.  Only one of them pushed the envelope for me personally.  Actually, he pushed the envelope for me as well as for Numero Cinco.  I felt like crying, Cinco was hoping I wouldn't... though he wasn't laughing either.  (I wasn't really going to burst out in tears and we both knew it.)  The amazing part is that I wasn't personally offended.  Quite frankly, what disgusted me had nothing to do with me.  I was just that... disgusted.  I'm not sure how real it was... it probably wasn't... hopefully it wasn't.  Oh, please.. dear God... nah, it couldn't have been... could it?

Numero Cinco and I are having a great time and that's all I'm going to say about that at the moment.

A comedy competition was a nice break from the routine.  Something new to try out.  Something fun to do.  I'm glad he asked me to go.  When I walked in, we hung around with his comedian friend, chit chatting, listening to him talk about what his craft is to him and how he works on it.  I was proud of him - even though I barely know him.  A room full of people expecting to laugh at what you have to say is not an easy room to get up in front of.  (Shit, a room full of people - for most of us - is not an easy room to get up in front of.  Period.)  As Cinco and I found a spot to sit down I caught eyes with a girl standing up right in front of us.  I looked at her and almost through her for a moment.  I hadn't noticed at first that we were looking right at one another.  As I sat down, I had the thought "I know that girl."  It wasn't until a few minutes later that her name came to mind and I was able to place her.

She wasn't someone I knew well - but we had a history.  A strange and intricate twisting of fate that led us into and out of each other's life from time to time.  I only recall having an actual conversation with her one time.  We were at a BBQ years before. 

She was the girlfriend who was with my high school sweetheart right after I was with him.  Some say he cheated on me with her - others (including him) deny it.  Either way, I'm over it and have been for just about forever now.  The conversation at the BBQ took place a long time after their relationship had been over as well.  Now I'm stuck wondering who's BBQ I spoke with her at.  Why was I at that BBQ... who's house was that?  Does it really matter?  Maybe... because this is where the second connection comes in.  She is the sister of a friend of my ex's.  The one I lived with for years. 

I however, forgot who she was enough to only give her the politest of smiles in return for the knowing smile she gave me.  I actually would have said "hi" if I had realized prior to sitting down.  I have no issues with her.  I kept my eyes peeled after the show to see if she was walking by... she didn't and then Cinco and I left.

So - what is today's post really about then?

It's simple.  It's about the past.  The truth is... I do not like South Jersey (besides the shore) at all.  I do not enjoy myself here and I do not enjoy going everywhere feeling like I could run into someone.  Am I scared of them?  Not usually.  But - I choose simply to keep them firmly in my memories, if at all possible.  I walked away (and they walked away) for reasons.  Varied reasons, reasons I may never know or they many never know but reasons, nonetheless.

I do not enjoy reminiscing all that much - unless it's with my girls - the ones I choose and they have chosen me.  I would rather make new memories, explore new places, people and things than continue to relive and remember all the negative crap that I have struggled to forget.  Sure, there was some laughter in there but do I dare say it?  There were so many more bad memories for me than good...it has been my own personal struggle to put it all behind me as opposed to keep living it over and over and over again.  It's bad enough when things replay themselves without my express permission.  I really don't need anyone to help "jog" my memory for me.  When the movie of negativity starts in my head, I need to just let it play out.  Usually new memories and people not tied to my past (except the select few) are the best remedy for this.  Rarely does the stuff start when I am out and about enjoying my life anymore.  This is still one of the main reasons I have wanted to move from the area.  Nearly everywhere I go, I feel the "bad vibes" of a past I do not enjoy - for many reasons.  And if I am not feeling the "bad vibes", the truth is, I am feeling a slight twinge of fear (sometimes in the back of my mind) that someone may cross my path like a black cat for the evening.

I do want to make one thing clear.  I do not ignore my past.  I have explored it and it's implications, lessons and repetitions many times but what I do not enjoy is running into it.  I do not enjoy the discomfort that it causes me.  The anxiety and the racing pulse.  I do not enjoy the sensation of being reminded about this time or that time... or this or that person.  At least not for a good chunk of it.  I don't dislike everyone who did reside there - far from it.  It's just easier for my mind to stay at rest and peace when I am not directly reminded.  Not that the movie shuts off at every moment because of it.  Sometimes the memories are so thick that I am talking to myself about it without noticing or I go into what I would refer to as a "zone".  I have been asked if I am "alright" before.  This usually breaks it because there's someone else to stimulate me - but it doesn't completely break the emotions connected to it, which is the most painful part.  All of this does tend to get better when the medication is working well.  As it is now but this is not a boundary I like to test.

Cheers to "my" girls and guys out there who don't take me back - even the ones who have seen me through.  Thank you for choking me up in a beautiful way instead of in a way that makes me ask God to not let it be so.  And here's to all of us who are finally making it to the meat of the story.   

Jig of Myself

On Monday morning, I hopped out of bed and ran to my living room.  I turned on my PC and waited for it to start running.  Meanwhile, I found myself actually hopping around a bit, doing a little jig of sorts.  (Only momentarily, mind you.)

The big day was here.  To some, it may not seem like much of a day.  Just a regular Monday morning, back to the grind.  Starting another class in a string of classes.  But - to me - it was what I have been waiting for (sometimes with a more active interest than others) for the last 14 years.  I was finally slipping into the chance to study what I feel I have been born to do.  The sculpture hasn't been perfected yet but it has been started.  The marble has been cracked.  There will be challenges, without a doubt.  I am sure of it. 

I began American Lit II.  And I am loving it!  We've started out with Whitman.

BTW... a "B" in Spanish 102.  Not exactly a thrill to receive but a relief after the disaster called "final oral evaluation".

I'm not sure if it's the new meds or if it's just some sort of something that has "clicked" within (or a little bit of both) but I am suddenly feeling very relaxed, very unburdened, very free from the type of anxiety that bothered me before.  Granted, being able to wake up in the morning helps - having that extra time in my day.  Putting less demand on myself helps as well.  Accepting that I can only do so much in a day, etc, etc.  I will get done what I get done and everything else will have to wait.  Accepting that I have to take care of me for once - for real - and then worry about others.  Been working as of late.  While I have moments of insecurity, that others may be getting frustrated or upset with me for my new mindset, my new ways... I have to admit, I need (and have needed to step back) for quite some time now.  I am no one else's responsibility (at this point) and no one is mine.  Doesn't mean I won't treat you right... or them right... just means I'll do what I can.  Everything else will have to just be.

Receipt Not Necessary

She sounded annoyed when I said "nah".  I guess it wasn't a proper enough "no".  However - I did say "thank you" before getting back in my car and driving away.  Nope... no receipt for me.  Thank you for carrying my stuff in.

This morning - I did a little fashion show for myself.  (I love being able to get up before the final bell goes off.)  The kind I really tend to enjoy.  I tried on all my shorts as well as a couple of skirts and dresses that I wore last year.  I had bought most of them before embarking with Spice on a wonderful trip to Punta Cana.  Needed something to wear in the warm weather, after all.  When I slid them on this morning I discovered that only one pair still fit.  This time, in a positive way.  They were all entirely too big to walk out of the house in without fearing that they may fall down.  I promptly threw them in the bag I had begun with a few other articles of clothing and before I knew it, it was full to the brim.  I then added that bag to a pile I had growing at the top of my stairs.  (Well - not sure about a "pile" - a small TV and another full bag of clothing and accessories for Goodwill.)

These days I am walking around at least 20 pounds lighter than I have been in quite some time.  On my 5'2", petite frame, that is alot of weight.  While I still have some to go before I'm 100% confident, I can tell you that being almost back to my "normal" size is liberating.  Maybe my weight shouldn't matter so much to me but I am the one who has to look in the mirror at myself and determine if I can deal.  I am the one who has to go shopping for my clothes and try not to cry when the sizes were getting bigger and bigger and bigger.  I am the one who stands on the scale in the morning and has to face what is going on with my body.  I am the one who was working out for 3 hours a day and NOTHING was coming off (thank you, Seroquel).

But - this morning - prior to stopping at Old Navy (again, I love getting up with some extra time in the morning) to begin replenishing my shorts drawer, I stopped at Goodwill and did not ask for a receipt.  The truth be told, they're doing me a favor by taking it all off my hands without it going in a landfill.  Someone will give those barely worn shorts and skirts a good home, I'm sure of it.

No receipt, thanks.             

  

Unnatural

It started out with me walking into the room and seeing another student sitting there taking a test.  From there, it was as if my figure skate came untied during a triple axle.  I thought we were supposed to be alone in the room.  Now there was someone else for me to screw up in front of.  So - not to disappoint - that is exactly what I did.

It started out slow.  I wasn't on my game but I could at least jog my way to the finish line.  It wasn't going to be an A.  But maybe a B.  Then she asked me one question and I simply could not understand it.  I lost track of where I was.  And that's when I crossed over from nervous to full-fledged panic.  I could not recall how to ask her how to repeat it in Spanish so I blurted it out in English.  Even right after she gave me a minute or two lecture on not speaking in English and she told me how to ask me to repeat it in Spanish... out stumbled the English word "repeat".  She grew frustrated and so did I.  Maybe I could still manage a C.  Then the next question came out and I couldn't understand that one either.  I was screwed up from having screwed up and speaking in English... then having her correct me.  After that... it was just awful.  Absolutely awful.  I stopped trying to elaborate and was simply caught up on trying to understand her so I didn't have to ask her to repeat again.  By the time all nine questions were asked, I was asking her to repeat every question... I couldn't even pick up the first word of the questions anymore... let alone the third or fourth.  Yes, I had been given all 27 questions prior to the exam.  And, yes, I did go over them as well as the answers I was going to give.  I was reading them right up until I walked in to see her.  I may not have studied as hard as I could have but, honestly, if I didn't know this stuff by now... what's the point of memorizing?  Memorization of a language is not a working knowledge of it.  If I'm in a Spanish speaking country... they're mostly likely not going to ask me what time I get home from University.  They probably won't give a shit.

Not that knowing that makes up for my utter failure this morning.

She went on to lecture me at the end about how I'm a good Spanish student and how I'm sharp, etc, etc but how I wasn't prepared and that my being nervous doesn't cover the "unnatural" way I messed up.  I'm not actually sure what that means at this point.  There was nothing more natural in this circumstance than me not being able to pull it together.  It's just like someone who's a world champion flubbing up the Olympics.  It happens.  One mistake can be the downfall, the beginning of the end for anyone who's not completely on their game that day.  I barely crawled across the finish line.  My answers became shorter and shorter.  Frustration reigns supreme and I began crying as she lectured me.  I tried only to tell her I could show her in my notebook where I had gone over the questions.  The difference being, for me, that I simply could not actually understand the words when someone spoke them.  It had been this way for all 15 weeks.  Almost every time she called on me in class while speaking Spanish, I struggled to understand her. 

I certainly am not going to blame it on her in any way.  

One Thing

If I sorted it out
If I knew all about this one thing
Wouldn’t that be something
- Finger Eleven, One Thing

When you walk into my apartment, there are magazines scattered about staring at you.  All sorts of faces - some famous, some not so famous, some are actual pictures, some are drawn.  When you walk into my bedroom, there are bookshelves - not as full as I would like but they are there.  When you walk to the side of my bed, there is a pile of papers, books, magazines, and everything in between.  Directly next to my bed, on the nightstand is another pile.  Of books I am currently reading and my journal.  At the end of my bed there are clothes scattered on a deacon's bench as well as a small pile of unused journals, which I am sure will be full one day - at least I hope so.

The one thing I feel I am lacking that I need to seriously look into getting is a desk.  A real one.  I found one at Ikea and just haven't had the chance to go get it yet.  Mostly because I haven't actually dedicated myself to it quite yet.  Not that buying a desk should truly take dedication.  But, apparently, in my case... it should.  It's ultimately part of the bigger picture.  Part of the dream.

Slowly but surely my dream is actually coming together in one neat, little package.  And it's becoming a bit more tangible, a bit more doable, a bit more everything I want it to be.  The dream offers variety, which is something I need (or maybe just want), it offers an opening of the mind that little else does, it offers a potential lifestyle that I believe I can manage to live with.  It will take some sacrifice, yes.  But - anything worth doing will require some sacrifice indeed. 

Reading and writing, writing and reading - in my eyes, it doesn't get better than this.  What if I knew all about this one thing?  Wouldn't that be something?  But - what would this one thing be?  Literature.  What if I knew all about it?  Is it possible to dedicate my life to it?  Is it possible to at least try?  I think it might be.  And I am going to do my best to give it a go.  Now that espanol is wrapping up tomorrow, it's time for me to step out into the world that I love.  Up until now it has been SO many classes that just couldn't keep my interest - almost all of which were lost on me, often because of my youth but now - for me - it's about beginning to really explore what my mind is made of.  I am beginning a new journey.  One that settles into my bones as if I have finally found my home.  The restlessness that once captivated me seems to have fallen away and everything I have been looking for somehow falls into place - calm, cool, collected.  I can't see precisely how everything is going to work but I can finally begin to imagine it all in a coherent, attainable sense.  The possibilities within the realm of this "one thing" are almost endless - a final resting place for those other dreams that have come and gone.

Any Food Left?

On my fridge hangs a magnet with a picture of two friends on it.  A future bride and groom.  The magnet asks me to save the date (or directs me to - depending on how you look at it).  For this, I am thankful.  I can put it in my phone and make sure that the date really is saved.  I am glad that I won't have to worry about working that day or that I won't double book myself.  For someone like me - who's overtime schedule is planned out three months in advance - I am grateful.  Especially when it's something I am really going to want to do.  Such as Spice's party or weddings of those near and dear to my heart.  Save the dates (whether by magnet, email or text - or even by phone call) make me happy.  They make my life easier.  And just that much less stressful.

But - you know what doesn't make me happy?  Getting a "save the date" two days before the date I am supposed to be saving.  Having received a text just like this yesterday I can't help but go "hmm..."  (Queue C+C Music Factory.)  Multiple things struck me about this.  First and foremost that this text was clearly sent out to other people... most likely prior to when it was sent to me - my guess would be much earlier than when it was sent to me.  Being invited as a side note never makes one feel completely wanted wherever one is being invited to.  The second thing that struck me was simply that this invite was maybe a courtesy - maybe someone didn't want me to see the party going on and feel bad about not inviting me - since it's going to be next door and all.  Still doesn't exactly make you feel wanted.  Though at least there is some concern.  The third thing that got me was when the "save the date" text asked me to bring money for spending.  Yeah... no thanks.  I'm not keen on having to show up to a party I am invited to with money (I probably would have anyway - just because that's what most people in America do - we carry around at least some money, when at all possible).  The question pops to mind - what are you going to try to sell me?  Will I have to sit through a demonstration of some sort?  If so, that sucks.  I don't consider those parties actual "parties".  Not one bit.  They're a sales pitch, nothing more, nothing less.  Yes, even the sex toy parties.  If I want to buy a sex toy, I know where the stores are... and I know how to get online.

And the final thing that popped into my head (besides feeling grateful that I have a date on Friday with someone I am hoping is as awesome as he has been on the phone), was the response I received when I said I might stop by if I happen to be around during party time... that I already had plans... "Do you have a folding table?".  Not "ok" or "hope to see you" or anything of this nature.  Nope.  A request for something.  Ahh... motive for inviting me at all comes out.  Before being able to ask me for anything... you felt the need to invite me first.  Makes sense though the truth is... even if I had a folding table (which I don't), I very well might keep it to myself in this situation.  On several occasions this friendship has made me stop and think about it.  And on this occasion, I am fine with just letting it go.

I won't call you "slut" or "whore" when we part ways, I won't accuse you of trying to steal my money (unless you actually did steal my money) and I won't live in the shallow end of the pool just because that's what some people do.  I don't look a certain way, I don't talk a certain way and I don't bother worrying about trying to be anything in particular any longer.  I don't worry about if my friends are "cool" enough to hang out with, I just look for the person inside.  If I, for some reason, do not fit into someone's idealized image of who they want to hang with - so be it.  Life is too short to worry about it.  And the energy I would spend on worrying about it needs to go to other things at this point.  Namely, my life.



   

100%(ish)

Back in the game.  100%(ish).  Getting some sleep, waking up in the morning like a grown-up should.  Back to working out.  Back to life.  Back and grateful for it.  Somehow, in the midst of everything falling back into place, I have come to determine that I actually, really do want something a little different than what I have been chasing for quite some time.

NYC was a wake-up call.  A good one but a wake-up, nonetheless.  And the mental breakdown that came shortly after reminded me how fragile keeping focus actually is (at least for me).  I would rather save up for the good stuff than keep accepting the small stuff.  I would rather focus on my education than on the negativity of my job.  I would rather date (or talk to) one decent guy at a time instead of seeing how many I can meet in hopes that one of them will be the "right" one... even if I know they're not the "right" one from day one - in truth.  I would rather stay home most evenings instead of running around like a fool and wearing myself down.  I would rather keep my clothing choices simple instead of chasing down what I imagine to be a "perfect" outfit.  I would rather just be happy than keep trying to chase happiness down.  I'd rather let it roll off my back than be concerned about it.  (Unless it really is my own deal to worry about.)  I would rather worry about taking care of me and what that means than trying to bend and fit other people's whims.  What's more important to me - keeping my job happy or keeping me healthy?

In clarity, as I'm having now, it's so easy for me to see it all.  What I want, how I want it and why I want it.  And this is why I'm happy with 100%(ish).  It may fluctuate a bit each day (with whom doesn't it?) but that's ok.  As long as I'm not running on 80% or less... I'm feeling like I can handle it.  This whole being alive thing.

80%

Ok.  So, that was a brutal few days.  Hasn't been like that in a while.  Though, with the famed 20/20 hindsight, it's been coming for quite some time.  The meds just weren't working.  It's been a good 6 weeks at least, realistically, since they were - at least at any level worth counting.  My meds have been switched up and I have also signed up for intermittent medical leave at work.  The medical leave will cover me when it's necessary instead of always using sick time.  Hopefully I won't have to use it much at all.  Hopefully the new stuff will be good for at least a while.

Have to admit, while I'm worn down and could use just a little more rest and relaxation, my mind is quiet again.  I was able to drive and sing today on my way to and from school... something that only occurs when I'm feeling right.  The new meds will take weeks before they're up to the levels to reach full effect on me.  But - at least I'm not feeling drugged or feeling crazed... as the Seroquel sometimes does make me feel.  And the slight tingling sensation on top of my head is unique... though I have felt it before and suspect it will have gone away within the next few days.

Back on the horse again, I plan to take it slow for the next few days until I don't have to take it slow anymore.  I plan to go home, clean up the mess my apartment has become and make myself a dinner.  Yes, people... I plan to cook something.  Nothing fancy but it feels like it has been forever since I have felt capable.  It hasn't been... just feels that way.

Hopefully tomorrow I can get back just a little bit more.  I'm at about 80% today (as I had hoped).  Maybe by tomorrow I'll be at 85 or more.  I just needed those thoughts to stop... yup... you know the ones.  And they have.

I Spy

As I sat here finishing up the best short story I have read in quite some time ("World Enough And Time" by Linda McCullough Moore from The Sun, March 2011 issue)... good enough to bring me to tears... I am amazed at the clarity of mind that I have.  The past week or so has seen me pitch a fit internally.  Which leaves me wondering what is going on with me.  Is it my medication or could it be something that I have long overlooked?  Nothing too serious, mind you, but a noticeable difference that has faded away as of today.  The fatigue I have been feeling for the past several days has been wearing on me.  Exhaustion.  Just plain exhaustion.  I left my doctor a voicemail and have something to bring up to her when she calls me back on Tuesday.  She's off for the Easter holiday.  Possible medication change, possible new diagnosis... at least as I have read about it.  For the past several months I've begun to notice a definite pattern with my lady functions as well as the state of my mind.  I'll leave it up to the doctor to decide but from the reading I have done I fit the bill for PMDD.  Which would explain alot though I'm not sure what can really be done besides being more careful about my diet and exercise.  Taking anti-depressants with bipolar disorder can be very dangerous.  But, again, I will leave this up to my doctor.

A week ago - I was in NYC, having the time of my life.  And while my mind has not been perfectly clear over this past week, I have also not been officially depressed - just really freaking tired and bouts of extremely muddy thinking, short attention span, feeling completely out of control - the whole nine.  Still - in what I experienced last week I found a piece of hope that had not been there before.  A piece of me that is resigned to being alright with the state of things.  A part of me who's not as interested in going out quite as much has suddenly begun to poke through.  Not because I have lost interest in it precisely, just because I am somehow seeing things a bit differently.  I want to save my money, I want to experience things as I enjoy them.  I want to have better days (like last Saturday) instead of nights that leave me feeling cloudy for the next several days.  I want to be able to afford to travel as I have always dreamed.  And somehow, in experiencing myself so entirely last week, I see it is possible.  I just have to pick my priorities and stick to them in order to get what I want out of life.  It's time for me to really hit "go".

Last week, while in the Playwright, I spotted something that appeared to me so unbelievably perfect, I could barely believe I had never dreamt of it before.  As I came up from the bathroom, there sat a couple in the corner.  Both with a beer in front of them, sitting next to one another with little space between - enjoying each other's company so clearly while all the while keeping their respective noses lodged into their respective books.  I couldn't have asked for better timing on spotting them - and I wonder still how exactly they found each other.  This may not sound like the best thing ever to some people but to me, this appeared fantastic.  To be so comfortable with someone as to be able to comfortably sit in silence, in two worlds at once - the couple world as well as the individual world and just relax.  To have no need to be talking in order to entertain or find assurance that all is ok but merely to enjoy the simplicity of the other's mind as it whittles away at an experience all one's own.  I decided, at that moment, THAT is what I am looking for.  Not that I want silence at all times, there are times for talking - without a doubt.  And there are times for walking and laughing and joking.  But there should also comfortably be those quiet times as well. 

"Hey, hon... wanna go down to the bar and read?" 

"Sure, babe, sounds good.  We could grab lunch while we're there."

"Alright.  What are you reading right now anyway?"

And so it ensues.  The conversation that takes place on the way before settling into a comfortable seat in the back.  Just to mix it up a little, just to get off the couch. 

But - who knows - maybe they were reading to avoid one another.  Maybe they had a fight the night before that wasn't entirely worked out yet (nor will it ever REALLY be).  And maybe this is how they were cooling off.

I doubt it, though.  I very seriously and completely doubt it.  If for no other reason than the fact that they were holding my dreams in their hands.  Funny how once you see what you want in life and you discover it somehow, you begin to see things just a little differently.  You begin to see what it really can be, it can be exactly as you ask for it - all the while very different from what you first began.

 

Perceived By Me

Last night I went to dinner with the Redhead.  We chatted about this, chatted about that while trying a little Afghani food - for me, a definite (and tasty) first.  Amongst our talk, I came to realize something that was also pointed out to me during my recent therapy session as well.  While neither the Redhead nor my therapist said it quite this way, I am going to say it. 

I have to get out of my head when it comes to other people.  I have to learn how to just let them go along their merry (or not so merry) old way without internalizing it.  I have to learn how to not let them bug me about this, or about that.  Things that do not truly concern me.  My concern, while at times rooted in an almost parental outlook, needs to be let go of.  Simple as that.  I may not always agree or always like the road you're on but unless you've asked me for my opinion - I have to just let it go.  Live and let live, as they say.

Why do I struggle with this so much?  Why do people usually get to the point that they really, truly get under my skin and I no longer want to be around them?  Not all people... just some.  When it happens it's undeniable and I end up scurrying away from them for one main reason - some side of me, something I very much DO NOT like begins to come out of me and this is something I want to avoid.  If hanging out with you depresses me (every time - I am not talking a once in a while basis) - I either need to learn how to shake that depression or not allow it to affect me or I need to just stay away from you.  If you are just plain annoying to me, I have to learn how to ignore it.  If you do not value the same things as I do on a large scale, I have to learn to accept that (no one will value everything that I do and vice versa, I realize). 

But - then - I find myself asking a set of new questions.  Why do I feel I have to accept everyone as my friend and keep them in my life?  Not everyone has kept me around and that's ok.  Do I only turn my back on those who actually do me wrong?  Or is it ok to simply shy away from people who bring out the negative in me?  Part of me wants to just be able to always accept people as they are and feel all warm and fuzzy toward them anyway but that may be just a little too utopian (at least for where I am in my journey right now).  When does the line get drawn between acceptance of people with their (perceived by me) flaws and rejecting people because of their (perceived by me) flaws?  Is this ok at all or is it simply morally wrong to reject anyone when they haven't personally done me wrong in some way?  Somewhere in the years of me growing up, I appear to have missed something.  Most of the people I know seem to have no problem with these sort of things.  Or maybe they just don't talk about it or think about it as I do.  Everyone I know - especially myself - have things that may be considered a little askew by others.  Flaws that are sometimes obvious and other times not so obvious.  And while some people are just a little too much for me in some way, shape or form - others are just fine in my book.  Despite what I agree with, what I don't, despite some of their choices or non-choices, despite many things, I still love them anyway.  Without fail. 

So, I guess the main question is this - how does one specifically decide that they do or do not want to spend time with someone?  (I am not talking about dating here.)  When do we cross the line into being just plain judgemental and when are we just saying "we just don't mesh".  My struggle seems to come mostly from trying to fight the "just don't mesh".  I wonder what about me feels the need to fight that or to justify it.  Guess that's what I have to figure out... why the fight? 

Another blog, another time.
       

Roses in the Rain

Ahh... I'm feeling rested.  Feeling much like someone might after a good vacation (usually).  Even if you were active - even if you had a blast and partied it up... the truth is a good enough day or few days can make you feel a sense of hope that sometimes slips away otherwise.

On Saturday I ventured into NYC by myself - for the first time.  I was on my own timetable, doing my own thing, exploring as I like to explore - despite the wind and the rain.  I headed up in time to make it comfortably to my hair appointment at 1pm.  Leaving here around 10am.  I made it to Hoboken with no problem and took the Path into the city.  I enjoy doing the Hoboken thing because it provides me with the opportunity to come and go as I please.  No train or bus to make sure to catch at a specific time.  The parking lot in Hoboken is 24 hours so there are no worries there.  (Though if it had been warmer, I would have driven around to try and find a free spot... somewhere.)  I went the wrong was toward Journal Square on the train at first but turned myself around.  Once I was in the city, I hailed a cab with the confidence of someone who's done it a hundred times before.  My hair was done earlier than I figured it would be and I headed out on the street.  The rain was just beginning to leak from the sky.  I had to find somewhere to buy an umbrella as well as a notebook and paper to write with.  I had the entire afternoon free for myself before planning to meet a friend of mine for dinner. 

So... I wandered for a bit, staying close to the subway openings that would lead me to where I needed to go for dinner, which lay somewhere on the border of Harlem and Washington Heights.  The rain was picking up so I slipped into the Playwright and had myself a beer.  I enjoyed an article from a past issue of the New Yorker and then slipped back out into the weather.  I wandered a bit more and found another place to stop.  For just a short few minutes I found myself sitting at a bar alone - in NYC.  I ordered an appetizer and another beer, this time I pulled out my paper and pen.  People came in and I finished up, slid into the bathroom and put on some makeup for dinner.  Out into the weather I went again.  I wandered for a few before finding the growing desire to get back inside.  My umbrella had flipped inside and out about 15 times by now.  Once inside the mall I found a bookstore where I bought a recent bestseller.  After leaving the bookstore I stumbled upon the find of the trip for me.  A Salvador Dali exhibit.  Oh, how I wish I had a spare $378,000.  But - I don't.  After finishing up there, I found another bar - a bit seedier than the rest but I enjoyed most of another article along with one more beer while I waited for go-time to come.

I ventured across town.  Downtown, to be exact.  Though, at first, I headed Uptown.  Luckily a friendly enough woman on the train confirmed to me that I needed to be going the other way.  I did so willingly, without any frustration.  I had given myself an hour to find the restaurant.

Once I got to 125th, I got off the train and went out to the street.  Ok... this part of NY is not the area I am used to.  I had no idea which way to head so I just started walking.  The wrong way.  Once again, someone who was friendly enough gave me a tip and I headed out the way she said.  In that part of town, there are no cabs to grab.  Which was unfortunate for me but even more unfortunate for my bladder.  While the wind and rain pushed me down a hill in a light unintentional jog (me laughing all the while) I forgot I had to go.  By the time, however, that the hill leveled out... I really had to go.  I had a moment like this a little while ago - last summer... maybe.  Maybe the one before... but then I was at home.  This time, I was in Harlem (or maybe a little into Washington Heights), and I could not find a bathroom.  In a moment of tension and fear, I spied an alley where I felt I could slip into.  By the time I got to the alley, my bladder had reached a fever pitch.  Yet - much to my chagrin - I discovered that this wasn't an alley - what I was seeing was merely a trick of the eyes and the light.  This was merely a corner and a wall.  Like a dog I circled as cars passed by.  (Which lead me to believe that not all of the people acting strangely in cities are crazy - maybe they just have to GO.)  Once I heard silence on the car front, I went for it.  The fastest public bathroom break of my life.  "Please don't get arrested, please don't get arrested, please don't get arrested," was all I could think.  The good news is, I did not get arrested nor did any cars pass by as I was doing what I needed to do.

After finishing up and feeling a sense of relief that only comes with one thing, I left my corner to discover that the restaurant I was looking for lay right before me.  Sigh... in the time I spent circling, I could have made it there.  Oh well... relief was still washing over me (as well as rain), I made my way in and sat at the bar to wait for my friend.  I blotted the sweat off my brow and decided what to do if she didn't end up being able to make it.  I would simply head back to the station.  She made it - and there were no issues.  We had a good meal, we went back to the subway together, making our way back across town.  I headed home to the Path with an exhaustion I haven't felt in oh-so-long.  The kind that comes with a long, satisfying albeit wet day.

I slept better Saturday night than I have in quite a while.

After all this is said and done, I have to say that I will be doing this again.  It may not always be NYC... it may just be in Philly.  It may be down the shore... it may be right in my own town... it may be in a new city, in a new way.  I'm going to relax, take a moment to breathe and just take it as it comes.  And that's what NYC taught me this weekend.  I don't have all the time in the world but I do have enough time to enjoy myself.  The definition of smelling the roses.  I'm going to begin working on this new way of working it.  I'm going to be chill about it - stop trying to control it and keep my focus where it needs to be.

   

     

Confined

In the past several weeks I have gone through Numero Uno to Numero Cuatro.  Meanwhile, there have been several guys that I have spoken to or text with.  And, in the end, I am feeling oh so worn out by the prospects set in place.

No, I don't want to talk about "if we're together long enough, you'll see..."  We're not even together yet.  Let's find out what we really think of each other first before planning a weekend in September.

No, I don't want to keep setting phone dates.  I don't like to plan my life around a phone call.  Call me if you're going to call me.  If I'm not around at the exact moment you call, I will get back to you.  I do not enjoy (it makes me squirm immensely) having to be ready and by the phone at 8:30pm.  Just call.  If you want to make a date with me, make a date to meet me.  If we were in an actual full-blown relationship, there would be a time and place for setting a time to call.  (I'd be willing to bend on this one if we were at least crazy about one another and knew it.)  If we've never even met in person, I will not plan my life around it.  (Not anymore, at least.)

No, I do not want to have an email-only relationship.  How long should we write back and forth before meeting?  We're both local, dude.

No, I am not thinking about marriage quite yet.  You may be but, again, let's see how we get along first.

No, I do not want to hear a long explanation about what happened in your last relationship.  A quick synopsis is fine.  If you are unable to do it without telling me all about how completely awful she was to you (and getting worked up about it), you're probably not ready to really be back out there yet.  Give me a brief explanation for now.  "We just wanted different things".  Details can come out as we get to know each other.

No, I do not want to date someone without a job who has no intention of getting one.  If your parents are asking you to find one then you probably need to find one.  And you probably need to stop looking for dates instead.

No, I do not believe that sacrificing everything I want out of life for you makes me the perfect woman.  I think it makes me a pushover.

No, I do not particularly want to date someone who's 16 years my senior.  (Unless I met you in real life and just couldn't help myself.)

No, I'm not really sure that I can be attracted to someone who doesn't have a life.  ALWAYS being available kind of freaks me out... where's your social life?  Unless you're new to the area and living alone... I would expect you to have at least a little something going on.

So, after all these things have popped up and shown their faces... I have made a decision.  I am taking a step back.  A few steps back.  Am I keeping my profiles up?  Sure.  Am I answering everyone that I have been?  No.  While I haven't been responding to most of the people who hit me up... for nearly every one, for one reason or another, I have stretched myself out without much excitement.  Meanwhile, my life has not been staying even keel.  I've lost track of me a bit.  Not completely but somewhat. 

I'm going back to just simply keep trying to be the best me I can be.  I have to admit I was having alot more fun when that was my main focus.  And, the truth is, that's the kind of guy I need and want too.  Someone who's just trying to live the best life they can with what they've got... plan for the future but live for today.    And call me when you have a chance, I'll do the same.  The fact of the matter is, I am more of a free spirit than what these guys are asking for.  Which I make very clear in my profiles.  I may not be the most free of the free spirits out there but please don't try to put me in a box from the beginning and figure out if I'm going to be your girlfriend by next week - and then when we can count on settling down after that.  Let's just see how it goes.  

After 8 Weeks

In an embarrassing moment at the front gate, I pulled in while feeling something snap inside me.  I went into a cloud for a few minutes that left the guard unsure of what to make of me - at least for the moment that I saw him.  My movement to show him my badge was irregularly slow and for a moment I was looking right through him, barely seeing him.  I couldn't make out what I was doing let alone who he was - a complete sensation of disassociation.  The strangest part of that feeling is the inability to think.  You know something is happening but you are unable to place it - or even think far enough into it to say "something's happening".  For just a couple minutes I remained in that fog and I could barely move.  I am not talking a dramatic swing of events where I was just seemingly exhausted - I simply couldn't move correctly.  Though for a few minutes after I came back to myself, I was completely exhausted - took at least another 15 for me to fully recover.  And I am ready for a good night's sleep tonight.  For a split second I thought that was it - a brain hemorrhage and the end of Gem was near.  But - no - not the case.  I was simply coming out of a depression that has been building for weeks.

At work I have been snapping left and right.  I have been a miserable B-I-T-C-H.  While some of my anger is very well justified, some of it is not.  Some of it is deserved and some of it is not.  I have been a mess at home as well.  Unable to catch up to where I need to be.

Knowing that I was in a completely mixed state (as I have been for a good chunk of the last several weeks), I looked up my disorder and it's symptoms for the first time in a really long time.  And here is what I have been reminded of: (from helpguide.org) - my comments are in bold:

Self-help for bipolar disorder


While dealing with bipolar disorder isn’t always easy, it doesn’t have to run your life. But in order to successfully manage bipolar disorder, you have to make smart choices. Your lifestyle and daily habits have a significant impact on your moods. Read on for ways to help yourself:

Get educated. Learn as much as you can about bipolar disorder. The more you know, the better you’ll be at assisting your own recovery. - no problem, been there, doing that 

Keep stress in check. Avoid high-stress situations, maintain a healthy work-life balance, and try relaxation techniques such as meditation, yoga, or deep breathing. - this I have not been doing at all, I'm working alot, trying to keep up with school, feeling the pressure of needing to start looking seriously for new job and coming upon a very bumpy road at work itself, the issues are daily and they keep getting more and more intense, changes, changes, changes

Seek support. It’s important to have people you can turn to for help and encouragement. Try joining a support group or talking to a trusted friend.  - I have a hard time with this and I haven't been able to see my therapist for quite a while, mostly because I was trying to avoid mixing up my schedule at work anymore than it already is, I do not like talking to my friends and family about it very often because it's embarrassing, it shouldn't be but it is,  maybe it's all in my head but I feel as though most people would rather I just not mention it. I can only control it so much and I am scared that people are going to get so sick and tired of hearing about it that I just don't mention it very often anymore - also - sometimes it doesn't occur to me what is really going on until I'm well into a messy place. 

Make healthy choices. Healthy sleeping, eating, and exercising habits can help stabilize your moods. Keeping a regular sleep schedule is particularly important. - nope, nope, nope been failing miserably at this.  The sleep has been a problem for a while - partially because my work schedule has been so erratic and partially because I just haven't been taking my medication at the same general time.  I can comfortably make a small variation once - maybe twice a week, if I can get a little extra sleep the next day.  And once my sleep is off consistently enough, everything else is too - it may not show at first but the trickle begins and leads to a waterfall before I know it.  Eating - all I have been eating is a whole bunch of not so good for me stuff.  Very few veggies and very few fruits.  Now that I will be returning to a consist first shift schedule this week, this should be easier to change - along with getting back to daily exercise.  Oh man, I cannot wait to start taking walks outside.

Monitor your moods. Keep track of your symptoms and watch for signs that your moods are swinging out of control so you can stop the problem before it starts.  - maybe I should actually consider starting to do this, I never have kept a mood journal.

I will tell you the worst part of having episodes (even if they're not full-on mania)... what have I said... what have I done that I have to swallow and just move on... without feeling embarrassment.  While not every moment of the last few weeks has been completely off, I know I've behaved in some ways I am not proud of.  Obsessing again, fixating on certain issues that I would normally let slide off my back.  Amazing part is that when I take my meds at a decent hour for falling asleep and I wake up at a decent hour... I usually start feeling better within 24.  Which is what happened to me today.  Sad part about the past two months is how inconsistent my nights and days have been.  I might have started to feel better, just to fall back into the trap again.  I even almost forgot to take my meds a few times last week.  Which was about the first time I had to ask myself what was wrong with me.  I take them religiously - how I started to forget about them, I have no idea.

What Others Don't See

In my life, at times, I have struggled with my faith.  In this struggle I have wrestled with my own angel of Jacob.  I have tried to force it.  (I do believe.  I do believe.  I DO BELIEVE.  Sigh... I still don't truly believe.)  I have also given up on it.  (I'll come around when You come around.  Crap.  We're both still here.)  I have begged and pleaded and screamed and cried.  (Come on, show me You're real.  Show me You care.  SHOW ME!!!!)  And, inevitably, after getting past the exclamation points I begin to see the blessings - whether they are an obvious answer to prayer or not.

Ultimately, through all my attempts I have more often than not ended up on my face, lying in a mud puddle made up of my own dirt and tears.  In this mud, which slowly drips down my face as I pick myself back up, I usually end up finding something.  Two somethings to be exact.  One - my mistakes.  Two - the answer to my prayers.  Sometimes they are at first hidden in the dirt, just like an earthworm - doing their duty and living their own important lives, whether we notice or not.

Lately, however, I have discovered my faith in one area (yes, after some prayer but not so many tears); within the realm of dating and my love life.  (Now if I could just find it in the realm of my job - I would be set.)

What others around my age appear to fear in this realm, I rarely do: ending up alone, no kids, no husband or wife, no future generations carrying on one's DNA.  The fact that this may or may not happen simply does not panic me.  And why not -  especially when it often seems to panic those around me?  In my heart of hearts I know - somehow - that I am not going to "miss out" on whatever is meant to be mine.

I have faith in the fact that if it doesn't work out - that's ok.  I have faith in the fact that it is not sad to have it not work out.  (Not that it never feels sad... it does... emotions are only human.)  I have faith that there is someone out there who is "right" for me - I will meet him eventually and he will meet me, when we are supposed to.  Apparently - right now - we're busy doing other things.  (Unless I end up falling head over heels for Numero Cuatro, of course.)  I have faith that this opportunity will not pass me by.  I have faith that I will know it when it crosses my path - and he will know it too.  I have faith that the dreams I have finally cultivated will not be put aside because his will be more important - they will be equal.  (And most likely pointing in similar direction.)  I have faith that I am meant to fall in love (again - maybe a few more times) - all I have to do is wait.  I have faith not only in the bigger picture but I will feel "it" again; that thing I have felt before - something like flying, something like floating, something like knowing all is right with the world and everyone will be OK.  Like a heroin high (or so I have been told), you simply cannot go back to mediocre, if you're going to play around with drugs at all.

Does my faith ever waver?  Sure... once in a while (particularly on Thanksgiving and Christmas) but it doesn't usually last for long.  As long as I am out there giving it a try... then I am doing all I have to do to "make it happen".  There are many things in life that cannot be forced.

Yet, it is in my faith that I often end up feeling a sense of frustration.  Not with myself but rather with some of those around me.  When I hear someone feel disappointed for me - or in me - I get a sickening feeling in my stomach.  When I see the "aww... poor you" look in someone's eyes I get agitated.  When I hear "I really want you to meet somebody," I hear "because I know you're terribly lonely," silently follow it up.  While I recognize that I am sometimes taking too much to heart and that most of these folks are coming from a good place, wishing for my happiness - what I wish they would realize is that while I every once in a while have moments of loneliness, I am not overall LONELY nor am I unhappy (ok - maybe when I am at work, just a little bit).  The truth of the matter is, I AM happy.  While I am waiting for my plane, I am not sitting cranky on the concourse... I am in the bar having a well deserved beer and loving it.

That is what faith does for me, after all; it reminds me that I am still young and free.  It reminds me that I would rather be single and happy than married and unhappy.  I would rather wake up alone than next to someone I secretly despise for not being the person I wasn't willing to wait for.  I would rather not have children than raise them with someone who does not share my values, ideals, worldview - and my life.  I would rather have the right to explore than feel like a caged animal just because I didn't have the courage to say "I don't". 

Faith brings me through my occasional fears and delivers me home again.  In my mind, in my heart and in God.  To have continued on with ANY of the relationships that have passed me by would have been the opposite of faith - it would have been from a place of darkness - a place that I have, in fact, been before.

Maybe sometimes I should feel a more acute sense of disappointment when dates go bad or just plain fizzle out.  But - I rarely do.  Even when it was or is - something I thought I wanted.  If it doesn't work out, it doesn't work out.  At least I know that if and when it is meant to - it simply will.

And, that, my friends, is faith.  The substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. (Heb 11:1)
   

Numero Tres

Last week I dated and moved on from Numero Tres.  Faster than a blink, yes.  Shoot - I didn't even have the chance to mention him on here.  But a mini-relationship, sure.  Not a real one - just a mini one.  One date, yes.  Enough texting to make me cringe (yes, physically - in front of mom no less) - absolutely.  An ugly ending?  Pretty much.  This was no polite goodbye.  I will momentarily quote our final conversation for you.

We had begun talking at some point toward the end of the week prior.  At first - at VERY first - it was fine.  Then, not so slowly, the conversation turned sexual.  One way sexual.  His claim was that he was just trying to see how compatible we were.  Really?  Maybe I am old fashioned at times but I do think we should probably find out if we have anything else in common first.  Just a thought.  Then, after meeting in real life and seeing how our chemistry is, we can maybe broach the topic of fucking.  This is not a matter of being a prude, it's a matter of simple respect.  As a full-grown woman, I am no longer all about just one thing.  The fact of the matter is that the most sexually exciting relationships of my life have come from amazing chemistry and attraction - not from discussing the compatibility of our sexuality.  (How freaking BORING does that sound?)  While it never hurts to discuss, discuss, discuss, sometimes it is best to just let nature take it's course.  One way or the other.  (Silly, silly boy.)  So - I called him on the fact that I would appreciate him trying to get to know me as a whole person and that I simply didn't want to go out with him.  His response was that he was just trying to see how compatible we were.  My gut was saying "no, no, no" but my mind was hearing him out. 

In the end I did choose to ignore my gut and I went out with Numero Tres last Tuesday night. 

Oops.  A few too many beers in and a pleasant yet not so magical kiss goodnight later, I found myself completely unexcited and uninspired.  A fun night, yes... a memorable night, not so much - once the slight hangover wore off.   I also began thinking about some of what was said, some of what I heard between the lines and some of how I just simply felt no interest in pursuing this further - especially after hearing THE voicemail.  (more on this in a moment)

He, however, was very interested.  Very, very interested.  He is looking for a relationship.  I am looking for someone I really, really enjoy spending time with.  I am looking for a relationship as well - but that is almost secondary to finding the "right" person.  In this case, he wasn't the right match for me, not even for one date more.  We meshed well over a few beers but what happens when we don't drink?  At this point, I guess we'll never know.

As for the message...

Prior to us going out on Tuesday night, I had been at work.  After work, I stopped by my home to put on some makeup and check the hair.  After that, I drove to the bar we were meeting at.  When I am at work - most days - my phone is on vibrate.  I often forget to turn the vibrate off.  As I was driving to the bar, it occured to me that I should probably let him know that I was on my way.  By the time this crossed my mind, however, the bar was already in sight so I decided to wait until I was parked to let him know where I physically stood.  At ten minutes early, I slid into a spot and promptly pulled the phone out of my purse.

FIVE MISSED CALLS.  And one voicemail.  Numero Tres had called me FIVE times in a row.

I did not listen to the message but went on to call him instead.  His tone was annoyed but he relaxed while I apologized because my phone was on vibrate when he called me.  The apology was simply for not thinking ahead or thinking of taking my phone off vibrate.  I often specifically try to remember to do this when I have plans with someone, in case they need to get in touch with me.  This apology was NOT for missing his calls.  We had plans to meet, not call one another.

A few days after our date, while my interest had already waned - I listened to his message to me while clearing out my inbox.  If I had heard it prior to meeting him I wouldn't have met him at all.  I would have slid right back out of that spot and headed home.  Here's the summation of what I would recommend avoiding, based on this one voicemail:

I wouldn't recommend assuming that if someone is standing you up or "dumping" you, that they would give even the slightest care in the world as to whether or not you may be wasting gas.

I wouldn't recommend getting angry because your date has not picked up the phone prior to the date - at the exact moment you called - anything could be happening.  If you're meeting at 9 o'clock - 9:05 is when you start feeling some sort of way - depending on your personality and thought process, of course.  Not at 8:50 or before.

His tone was what got me most and I began to really feel my "uh-oh" alert go off from somewhere deep inside.  A few days after I listened to the message we were still texting and had a date set up for Sunday night.  I no longer had any desire to bother with it so I had become a complete minimalist in my responses.  I secretly hoped he would get it but he didn't - instead he was crazy excited about our second date.

I confided in my Dear Friend about him - slowly letting things leak here and there... periodic as it was... and in her quiet way she simply stated that he did not sound right for me.  She was right.  I knew, she knew... my mom even knew it.  I was finding myself pushing toward a second date merely to get past my one date hump... ending it before giving it a real chance.  I finally came to the conclusion that I should let him know before continuing to waste time/effort/money.  And I decided text was fine... after only one date and also because I could smell the drama in the air.

Here's how it went down: (in the order the messages were received/sent on my phone - spelling and punctuation is accurate except in the case of "you")

NT - Numero Tres
Gem - me

Gem: Hi Numero Tres - I need to be honest, this isn't going to work for me.  I don't want to lead you on or waste your time so I feel I should let you know now.  Good luck out there and I hope you find what you are looking for.

NT: What did I do now

NT: Like what is with you, you say everything is good then this

Gem: You didn't do anything specifically.  I just had time to think about it and we're not a match.

Gem: No need to say something is with me.  If I'm not feeling it, I'm not feeling it.  I am sorry.  I wish you the best.

NT: Yea you right don't waste my time.  You could have at least have the nerve to call.  I have delt with enough crazy people.  Don't need another one all you Do is flip flop

NT: It's cool don't waste your time.  And I won't waste anymore of mine on you.  You'll never hear from me again hope you find your "match" on -----.  Bye

(----- is the name of the dating website we met through)

Gem: (silence...)

I decided to just let him have a go at it.  Let it out.  That's right... prove it to me that my decision was the right one.  Yeah... that's it... prove it.

Thank you.

And now onto Numero Cuatro... who appears so far to be someone kind of special.

The Practice

My job is just to offer the practice. Everyone takes it or leaves it as they prefer.
- Krishna Das

I read this quote in an interview with Krishna Das.  He's the "rockstar" of yoga - well - the chant behind yoga, I should say.  He is referring to the practice of chanting.  If you have at least read Eat, Pray, Love (the movie didn't cover it much) you will have an idea behind what chanting is in Hindu spirituality.  It is another way to connect to God, like prayer or meditation.  It's a form of meditation in many ways.  Many of the chants that are done relate to repeating of God's name in it's many forms.  While I don't chant in this way, I do have my own practices that I offer out to the world and people can take them or leave them as they wish.

Few of them have to do with prayers specifically, though often prayer certainly comes into play, at least in my downtime.  Mass cards would be one "practice" that I do actually offer out to the world on a fairly regular occasion.  Otherwise, the practice that I offer outward is no more than a sharing of myself with others.

I do this in two ways in particular... everything else, for me, falls into the category of these two.  Writing would be one, the sharing of love, caring and knowledge would be another in the form of familial, romantic or friendship.  Writing is an obvious one - you are reading it right now.  This is me expressing myself and people will take from it what they do - I can force neither my viewpoint or my thoughts on anyone who does not want to absorb them.  This goes for my blog but it goes for my fiction and poetry as well.  I enjoy putting it out there and hopefully my words will find their audience but that's up to the audience (and fate to a degree).

As for caring for loved ones.  Sometimes this means opening my arms, sometimes my home, sometimes my ears, sometimes my mouth, sometimes my wallet, sometimes my mind, sometimes my time, sometimes it's my knowledge or my laughter they need or want, sometimes it's all of me, sometimes it's just a piece of me.  I try to share as much as I can with as many as I can without burning myself out because then it becomes useless.  The labor of love shouldn't make anyone feel like they're doing hard labor in a chain gang.

So, this is the practice that I offer (and many of you do as well).  The practice of being me.  People can take it or leave it as they prefer - I am just happy to have it to give.

Going Out in SJ

So I have got this issue.  I live in South Jersey but I don't really enjoy going out in South Jersey.  I do enjoy the few times yearly when I go out to eat here for, say, South Jersey Restaurant Week... Farm to Fork week... and a couple other few and far between events.  Not too often though - because as a single woman - going out after dinner for a drink or two can lead to the same old vibe, at the same old place, with the same old people, in the same old way.

Last night a couple girlfriends and I went out to dinner at an Italian restaurant (which happens to have one of the hottest men I have ever seen in this area working there - so I will be going there again) for South Jersey Restaurant Week.  We did the usual, we ate and chatted and laughed a bit - we commented on the food, the decor, the man, what's going on in our lives and we got to know each other just a little bit better.  Then one of us went home, feeling tired and ready for bed - while the other two of us were feeling like going out for a few drinks.  She's on the border of becoming single again (it's looking like, at least) and I am single. 

I was particularly dressed up last night.  Wearing an outfit that I was into and feeling pretty confident about and a pair of shoes which make me feel warm and fuzzy all over, I was ready for a night OUT.  What I found however, was a night OUT in South Jersey.  Oh... yeah... I forgot this is why I don't do this very often.  While it's fun to experience the strangeness of running into people you haven't seen in years, ignorant men who actually attempt to unbutton your shirt for you (leading to a quick slap of their hand and a "what the hell do you think you are doing?" from me), language that should only be used with the buddies (at least until you know the girl alot better), being invited back to your place to play beer pong with your girlfriend and yourself (no I am not afraid of being bad at it, I just don't play beer pong anymore... nor do I want to walk into a strange couple's house to play the game - for goodness sake - I'm 31) and ladies - we are not staring at you, we're watching the band directly behind you - get over yourselves for a minute, please.  It's not that everyone here in SJ is exactly the same... the problem is the vibe is usually the same.  And that vibe is the one that chases me away from most bars, most of the time, particularly in the area where I live.  Not too long ago (while snow was on the ground) Spice and I went driving around in my area, trying to figure out where we could go for drinks.  There were a few parking lots that we drove into and out of... none of which I could settle on for us to stay at.  We ended up having a beer at my place then I drove her home.  One reason was simple - I was trying to avoid bumping into people I used to know because I just simply do not usually enjoy seeing them.  The other was just because nothing felt right or like somewhere I wanted to bother with.  

Last night the Redhead and I did end up being happy and having fun - regardless of the weirdness that went on around us.  However - this is an experience that I really do have to keep to seldom, at best.  I often escape to the city that I live closest to, Philadelphia.  And now a big part of me is really beginning to understand why.  It's not that I hate the area in which I live, it's just that I don't like the area in which I live.  I only live there because that's where my job is and where my education is being sought.  I think it's only a mild experiment for me though... I think it might really be time for me to move on as soon as my first degree is had.   

Maybe it's the same everywhere but somehow I do NOT believe that.  Mostly because I have been other places.  It might just be time for me to really figure out where I truly belong because somehow - someway I am becoming more and more positive by the day that my life is not meant to be lived exactly where I am.  There's something else calling to me, something else asking me to come hither.  I have always wanted it and I really feel it's almost time for me to get it.  I just have to figure out my game plan.  Could be bigger and better than I realize or it could simply fizzle out and die.  We'll see, my friends... we'll see.

Their World

In the past couple months I have returned to the realm of dating (as most of you already know).  Earlier this week I ended it with the first person that has made it beyond one date in quite some time.  And while it didn't work out for multiple reasons, one thing that clicked in my head yesterday afternoon was where my own fault lay in the situation.

Now... some of this comes from the mere fact that I wasn't exactly into him the way I would have liked to be and another part of it boils down to the fact that he wasn't exactly experienced in the dating world.  So... I felt I had to think up all the places we would go on our dates.  The truth is, I did not even give him a chance to come up with an idea or two.  He didn't complain about this or even mention it until the night before I broke it off with him (or made my sorry first attempt at doing so and FAILED - however you want to look at it) so it didn't occur to me to ask him otherwise.

Of course - the fact of the matter is I am an oftentimes busy woman.  As one guy I never did actually date a while back but did speak to on the phone said "busy, busy, busy girl - busy, busy, busy".  (He was complaining to me that I hadn't returned his call soon enough.)  So - sometimes in order to be able to spend time together, I do feel the need to invite him (whomever him is at that given moment) to go to things with me.  Such as, Spice's birthday celebration.  There usually aren't too many complaints from the gentlemen I have done this with and I always let them know the entire deal before we go out with my friends - I also don't abandon them to their own devices in these situations - except, maybe, that ONE time.  I do my best to host them and try to make them as comfortable as possible.

But - maybe, just maybe I should allow for a particular change in this particular part of my dating life.  Maybe I should not be so sure what I want to do on any given night so that I can invite them to come up with some ideas.  Ask them what they would like to do so they can show me a little more of themselves and I can see how I feel about being involved with what they enjoy.  While this hasn't always been a huge problem for me or anything it is looking like I may need to be a little more "open" about certain things.  Welcoming people into my world has never been the problem, it's wanting to see theirs that I feel I may be lacking.

Could this have a correlation to the fact that I never meet men when I am out?  Maybe there's something to it.  Maybe it's ultimately all the same issue.  Maybe I am still more afraid of them than I realized and maybe it's time to change this once and for all. 



   

    

 

That Body

Let that be a lesson to me (and you).  If you've been dating someone for a short time and you find yourself questioning whether you want to continue with it... and you begin to drive yourself and possibly your friends crazy with all your questioning... let me break it to you...

You do not like them enough to drag either of you through sticking with them.

When you mesh with someone, you mesh.  When you like someone you like them, you don't run around questioning it and asking everyone's advice hoping for someone to give you just the right advice to make you feel all better.  That advice is probably not going to come.

He has a good heart but my very first thought this morning was loud and clear.  "If you asked his brother, you'd probably get a very different story."  Sounds weird, right?  As if that should be the deciding factor... what his brother has to say?  Someone I have never met?

In this case, apparently, it was.  It wasn't specifically what his brother had to say... it was what he wasn't saying.  It was that martyr undertone that accompanied much of what he said about his family.  That, for me, was the deciding factor.

I struggled with it though - the thought of hurting him hurt me.  Not that a two week relationship is going to destroy anyone but letting someone down is the tough part.  It always is.  And I am not the kind of girl to just ignore someone until they go away.  That kind of behavior is not only childish but completely unnecessary.

I found myself slipping in the last two weeks.  Back into smoking heavily, back into not writing, back into not reading, back into not working out as consistently.  I found myself slipping.  And these were not good things.  Indicators that something on my end was wrong.  The best version of myself?  Absolutely not.

I guess it's time to find Numero Tres.  Numero Dos had some positives to him... just not the right positives for me.  Except that body... good God, what a body.

The Golden Questions

Who do I become when I am with him or her?  Am I closer to who I want to be when I am with them or am I further away?  Do they bring out the good a majority of the time or do they bring out the bad? 

In all relationships - familial, romantic, friendships, acquaintances, co-workers, even in the "enemy" realm - there are specific dynamics constantly at work.  Dynamics of how others rub off on you, what they bring out of you and vice versa.  We don't always think about these things but often, when we find ourselves immersed in the company of others we may feel this way or that, positive or negative, light or dark, at peace or in torment.  And after the immersion has taken place and we head out into the world elsewhere, things may itch at our brains a bit - we may begin to wonder what that thought or feeling is/was about.  We may be able to pinpoint it, we may not be.  We may feel good, we may feel bad - we may feel a little bit of both. 

However you choose to slice it (or it chooses to slice you), the truth is it never hurts to ask yourself the questions that I mentioned at the beginning of this post.  This will help you discover if the relationship you question is right for you or wrong for you.  If it is right for the other person or wrong for the other person.  They are not always easy questions to be honest about.  Sometimes they are not answers that anyone wants to hear.  It will not always be a matter of getting rid of the relationship, sometimes it's a matter of tweaking.  Sometimes it's a matter of allowing for or purposely allowing it to grow, both apart or closer together.

In the course of many of my relationships, as of late... I have been asking myself these questions.  I would like most of my relationships to stay status quo.  A couple are hanging in the balance of "distance needed".  One or two need a little more of my investment and some are on the edge of "over".  Some, however, are really in an "I don't know" kind of place.  The pros and cons list needs to be written still.  The balance of what is right and what is wrong both with me and with the relationship.  There is no controlling other people and how they feel (at least not in a good way - manipulation is bad and often not possible at all) so in many ways, it's also not completely worth using in your judgement of a situation or the health of a relationship.  In close relationships there is often the need to think of the other's feelings (and discuss the factors involved in maintaining the relationship) - just for the mere fact of being considerate of the "other" but you cannot always allow that to control the outcome.  For better or worse, you may need to walk away in order to be fair to both of you.

Relationships of all sorts can be tough.  Treating others as you wish to be treated can often get sticky during decision-making time.  As I have stated time and time again about someone I used to hang out with... "I couldn't stay friends with her because she drove me crazy most of the time and I found myself talking behind her back.  I don't want to be that kind of friend and she doesn't deserve that kind of treatment."  It's not always easy but often the truth is easier than what we initially perceive.  While you cannot necessarily allow their feelings to be the controlling factor, the best thing for everyone usually works out to benefit both you and them.  As a person with at least some sort of moral maturity, discovering this in between is not only a necessity to a well-lived life but also a necessity to being what many would label "a good person".  You may never be perfect but trying is more than half the battle.    

Without the Worry

On Sunday, I wrote up "A Little Nugget".  And you may recall, if you can recall ALL THE WAY back to the last post, that I said (or Tina Fey said) "you can't worry about it".

I promptly followed that up in my own life with a world full of worry.  Which promptly led to a freak-out and minor league breakdown.  The mini breakdown was nothing to write home about.  I just wasn't functioning, which may be because I just wasn't sleeping right or well.  A small conglomerate of issues have cropped up and now I have to take a few steps back - not only in the dating world but in the work world as well.

I'm feeling stressed and I have lost focus.  Which is NO good.

As some of you know, I am still seeing Numero Dos.  I am not looking to see anyone else at this point (nor am I keeping my options open) but I have to admit, I am not sure where this is headed.  I am not sure how I am feeling.  Excitement has turned to reality and reality reveals to me that I am not feeling ready to jump too far ahead with this relationship.  I am not ready to settle down and I am not ready to have to worry about a relationship in which settling down is the main event anytime soon.  Which is not to say I do not want to date (or that I am ruling out the possibility of being swept off my feet and changing my mind) or spend my time with people in order to get to know them and myself better.

At 31 years old I am doing what many women were doing at 22.  I've done the serious and now I'm trying to do the fun.  Maybe it's a little backward (in most people's minds) but the truth is, I'm good with that.  So, if I am having fun - the logical question is... why the stress?  Ideally, fun does not equal stress.

Recently (don't recall exactly what post it was in) I mentioned that I was ready and looking for "the one", that I did not want to waste time, etc on the wrong people.  However - I now wish to revise that line of thinking since the original line of thinking is what set the worry in. 

I am not looking for booty calls, I am not looking for insignificant flings (unless it's a vacation fling - those are fine and fun), I am not looking specifically for a husband.  What I am looking for is significant connection with the possibility of it being "the big one" without the pressure of trying to get someone (whether me or him) to walk down that aisle.  I am looking to explore options and see what's out there.  For real this time - not while I'm drunk, not while I'm hurting but while I am just plain me.  I do feel pressure from some of the people around me - not all - to find someone because, after all, I am getting older and my pro-creating years are slowly slipping by.  And how pathetic it is for a woman such as me to be ALONE (note:sarcasm).  Do I wish to be all alone, all the time - no.  I just cannot justify settling for the wrong guy. I just can't stomach the idea of settling for someone just so we can make babies and then dislike looking at one another once they're grown.   

Who knows... maybe Numero Dos will become Numero Uno.  But maybe not.  And that's ok too.  I promise - I won't lead anyone on, if he's ready to jump and I am not, I will know it's time to go.  Or if I get to the point where I just don't want to spend time with him, I will know it's time to go.  (Or vice versa - hey - one never knows.)

Here's to the new plan!  Without the worry...  

A Little Nugget

"Yes, you're going to write some sketches that you love and are proud of forever - your golden nuggets.  But you're also going to write some real shit nuggets.  You can't worry about it.  As long as you know the difference, you can go back to panning for gold on Monday."
- Tina Fey

My overall love life thus far has been more often than not, made up of shit nuggets with only a few sparkles of golden here and there.  And while I am not going to claim that it entirely depresses me (hey - I'm a writer, I tend to draw from the good AND the bad, after the hurt finally fades away), I am going to claim that it is a boatload more fun when the sunlight reflects off the shiny nuggets and the reflection hits my eyes.

While I could use Ms. Fey's quote here for writing in and of itself, I'm going to use it for dating instead.  Because as we look a little closer at it, we will be able to see how it can easily relate to both.

"Yes, you're going to write some sketches that you love and are proud of forever - your golden nuggets."

Yes, you're going to have some experiences with men or women that you love and are proud of forever - your golden nuggets.  Even if it doesn't end in happily ever after.  Whether it be a trip you took, a time when you helped them (or they helped you), something funny that happened or just a plain ol' good memory, there are the positives.  Maybe you helped them to open their minds a bit, maybe they helped you open yours.  Maybe you helped them financially in some way without asking for a return on the money (even after you split), maybe they sat with you in a time of grief.  Maybe you said or did something embarrassing and the two of you just laughed privately without letting the world in on the joke.  Maybe you both discovered a new food together - something you still carry with you, even after the relationship is long gone.  All of these things make you into who you are ultimately, little by little, nugget by nugget.  And who you are is an amazing person - with or without someone on your hip.

"But you're also going to write some real shit nuggets."

Yes, you're also going to have some real shit nugget memories too when it comes to the men and women that we choose (or happen) to date/marry/love.  Some of these memories will fall into place as a person in their entirety.  Some of these memories will surround mere circumstances.  Some of these memories will be the awkward, desperate, pathetic and otherwise unsavory comments, conversations and/or moments of realization that all of us have from time to time in our romantic endeavors, whether you are in it for the long haul or the short haul.  Whether you are married for 50 years or the date only lasts 15 minutes because you just can't sit with someone who smells THAT bad.  Or it could even possibly be a romance in your head, that never develops into anything more than a crush.  Sometimes it will be them, sometimes it will be you.  In all actuality, it's often a combination both - you and him or you and her.  Not always but often.

"You can't worry about it."

No, you can't.  You simply can't.  You will, but you shouldn't.  While this statement is really simplistic... it is also very pointed.  Worrying does nothing to help anyone.  If it is going bad... end it (or seek outside help - if it's a relationship that is worth salvaging, like, say, a marriage - or a long-term partnership).  If it's going good, roll with it.  If you're not sure, try to figure out what is making you unsure.  Is it them?  Is it you?  Have you just not given it enough of a chance?  Have you given it too much of a chance?  Whatever you do, however, don't lose sleep over it.  There is a certain sense of "what will be, will be" that would be very useful to ingest and incorporate into our romantic lives.

"As long as you know the difference, you can go back to panning for gold on Monday."

Whether you worry or not, whether you enjoy them or not, whether they worry or not, whether they enjoy you or not... the main thing is... learning to spot the difference between the gold and the shit.  Or the gold covered shit... or even the shit covered gold.  The good stuff and the bad stuff.  The negative or unhealthy relationship that's ignored by way of replacement (sex instead of intimacy, excuse making, enabling out of "love", putting on a face to the rest of the world while you haven't spoken at home in months, the list could go on and on and on) would be gold covered shit.  The shit covered gold would be when there are solvable, fixable problems that are currently getting in the way.  These problems come to all of us at one time or another but ideally - if it's a relationship that is gold underneath, you work through them.  So, whether you end it, you keep it or you decide to try it out for a little while longer - there is always the opportunity to pan for gold, as long as you know what emotional gold looks like - it becomes much easier to find.  


 





 

Getting It Done

A man desires praise that he may be reassured, that he may be quit of his doubting of himself

- Alec Waugh

What is a small round of applause worth?  I guess it would depend on the reason for it.  If it's to make fun (say... if you trip and fall - and someone teases you with a "good job!"), it may not be worth much.  If it's for something you've accomplished, it can be worth a whole bunch more... for instance... if you have just received your degree and your family members start it up from somewhere in the crowd.  If it's for winning the Nobel Prize... well... I can't honestly imagine what that would feel like but I can picture it meaning the world to some people. 

What if it's on a random Wednesday afternoon - when a small group of people discover your secret?  What if it happens to be on a day when you're feeling worn down, burnt out and unsure about some of the directions your path could take?  What if it's at a moment when you're sitting back in your seat hoping she won't call on you.  Not because you don't have the answers to her questions... but because you don't have the energy.  Because you are one hour away from a much needed spring break?

This morning, I received an impromptu round of applause from my class.  Not because I said something amazing in Spanish.  Not because I wowed everyone with my intellect.  But - rather - because I am apparently doing something that even Numero Dos referred to as "hardcore".  And, no, I didn't win a Woody.

I'm going to class during my lunch break.  I hadn't thought of it as anything but what needs to be done.  I simply hadn't gone there in my thoughts as to what it means or if I'm pushing it beyond the usual limits.  When the clapping went on, I felt myself blushing and then I said "thank you" in an awkward sort of way.  I felt silly.  But - I also felt pleased.  A smile crept onto my face periodically through the rest of the class.

After leaving class, I found myself thinking about what had occurred.  It was honestly just what I needed at that exact moment.  I needed the encouragement regardless of the fact that it made me feel silly.  My life, as of late, has been very much about what I have to do to get it done.  And I was beginning to slip into wondering if it was worth it at all.