Permission

Better now.
Not 100% better but I'm feeling happier and able to function.

The words of my bloggy friend Genevra helped. She helped me to identify what I was really feeling, which was grief.

As she wrote in a post comment:

Your posts of late have struck me as someone who is in the grieving process, just not for someone who has actually died. More of a dream and/or expectation of how your life was suppose to have turned out by the time you were the age you are fast approaching.

Grieving the deaths of hopes and dreams is just hard as grieving the passing of a person, in my opinion. Maybe harder, because people can concretely understand how it feels or must feel to have someone you love die. I think it is harder when it is not a concrete thing.

I had begun to identify that myself when I thought that if I were widowed, others would acknowledge my loss. If I were dealing with a divorce, others would surround me with support. If I had lost a child, my friends would cry with me. But because I am grieving the loss of something I have never had... most people can't see that big gaping hole.

Thank you Genevra for giving me permission to grieve. Quoting Caroline Myss, she wrote:

"... sometimes the greatest gift another human being could give another was to just sit with them through their grief...."

I'll sit with you.

What a friend!

The other thing that irked me was the anonymous comment saying she had removed me from her RSS feed based on my posts the past few weeks.

That stung, because she indicated that a friend of mine had first shared my blog with her... and because less than a handful of my friends even know about my blog I guessed that the person she was referring to is the same friend who abandoned me when things got great for her and really tough for me.
When I went through a rather glamorous phase of life, she was bragging about me in a "That's my friend!" sort of way. Expressing her envy of a lifestyle that looked more glamorous than it was... but when the ride was over and I hit the ground... she hit the road. (The link above is the beginning of that story. Someday I'll share the rest of it. It isn't pretty and it hurts. This bitter post was in response to her truth.) So here this stranger was following the same pattern as this hurtful friend. I hope they have a great time together!

Anyway, it brought all those hurtful feelings back (clearly, when that was the LAST thing I needed!!!) and when I think of Miss Anonymous I see the face of that fair-weather friend and it makes my guts hurt.

Bottom-line, why did Anonymous tell me that she removed me from her feed, other than to be hurtful? Why not just remove it and move on? I mean, I don't care if I have readers or not (mostly - of course it's nice to have comments and of course I check for them!) I have not monetized my blog, I don't check my stats... I don't even know how to do. So the only motivation for Anonymous to point out that she removed mine from her feed was a virtual slap in the face.

And who needs friends like that?!

I know I'd be the bigger person if I didn't even acknowledge Anonymous... but the truth is, I'm not that big.

Yeah... okay

Yeah... okay I'm feeling a little bitter lately.
Give me a few days. I'll get back to normal.

Just keep in mind that you don't know all that is going on in my life. That has gone on in my life. That which I do without. That which I have sacrificed. That which I put up with.

You have not walked in my shoes. You are not the one who cries with my parents. You do not have my family, or my past or my experiences. Nor do I know all your circumstances.

I will say, I have sacrificed plenty. I have been the victim of other people's whims. Right now, a dear friend of mine is feeling the painful results of some childish people's whims... and I am working to hold her up as she goes through it. As a result, some of my dust has become unsettled as well.

I am feeling bad about spouting off the past few days... but not bad enough to take my posts down.

Some people (who call themselves Anonymous... oh the bravery!) have pointed out that I'm no fun now that I'm in pain. Well boo-hoo.

If you can stick by me... know that I will stick by you when you are dredging through murky waters. In fact, I will even if you won't.

Blessings! I love my bloggy friends.

Don't Tell Me How to Feel

I have a lot of people telling me that I shouldn't feel this way. Mostly in real life.

I guess they see that I'm a generally happy person, that I have lots of friends who love me, they tell me I'm beautiful and that I don't look 40 (as if that changes anything), and that I'm successful in that I've fully supported myself all these years, own my own home... that sort of jazz.

I think it has a lot to do with my unemployment struggles lately. I just hate that there is no work for me and it makes me feel like a failure. A failure even though mostly, I just picked a career field that is A) volatile B) changing and C) no longer valued.

But it is humiliating to me to be single and unemployable.
That translates to all kinds of unwanted.

Employers don't want me? Fine. I'll go home and raise babies. Oh wait, I don't have any. I don't have a husband, and no I'm not having one on my own because guess what... I can barely support myself!!

Yes, I know that being married doesn't validate a person. That it's not all rainbows and sunsets and hot sex.

The bottom line is, I want to share my life. I want a partner. A teammate.
I am so over coming home to an empty house.
I am so over everything I do, on a daily basis... getting groceries, putting gas in the car, earning a paycheck... is done for me.
I am so over my own needs and wants.
I want to share.

Don't tell me I shouldn't feel this way. God made us to want to share our lives.
It's natural. It's Christ-like.

Yes, in a little way... as the kid who wasn't popular in school, who never scored the best grades, who didn't grow into her looks until after college... I sort of feel like I'm proving everybody right on their first impressions that I would never amount to anything.

I say that... but I know that I am deeply and passionately loved by God. I know that. I feel that.
I just also want to feel arms around me at home.

Pffftttt!

I spend a lot of time lately explaining to God how He's not playing fair.

If you haven't guessed, McTwitchy is out of the picture.
After he told me that he was concerned he might not be available enough to me... we had a talk about what availability looked like.
From his point of view... he couldn't answer because he finds that his time is unpredictable. So he asked what it would look like to me.

Going out once on the weekends
A phone conversation sometime during the week
and
Meeting up sometime during the week for a walk or a bike ride / activity

When I got to the third item, I saw him flinch. I was asking too much of him.

Already, we were going an entire week between seeing one another, and when I said so he felt a bit attacked. He actually said he thinks he should find someone who doesn't want to spend as much time with him.

Yes. I thought that was the dumbest thing I've ever heard!
How do you find someone with whom you connect, have great chemistry, enjoy each other's company and conversation, feel attraction ... and wish to spend less time with them?

He chooses to be single and I told him so.

Maybe I do expect too much too soon. But I really think, at our age (approaching 40 and 40+ ) if you are looking for a relationship... six weeks in you probably want to spend time together. Six weeks is where you decide, "I like this person. I want to know more" or not.
I would say it's different if you're 20-25. At that age, it might be a bit overbearing.

But I've already spent my whole life alone. It's time to get on with it. Why wait? The sooner we spend time together, the sooner we figure out if we WANT to spend time together... maybe a life together. It will become obvious very soon if we don't want to!!

Bottom line... I think the right man for me will be the guy who wants to spend time with me. Who wants me to feel special. And I him.

I'm not exactly sure that man exists... but if he did, he would be the one for me.

The remainder of the equation is that ... this is dating at 40. If a man is 40 and single it is because he chose to put other things (work, play, hunting, nintendo, gambling, drinking ...) ahead of making time with someone special.

I am aware that the same could be said for me.
In my 20s, my career was definitely ahead of the men I met. But I'm over that now... and a man should be too. Now is the time for him to be established and unafraid of sharing his life.

My friend told me yesterday that I am single by choice.
That I've broken up with as many men as have broken up with me. That's probably true.
But what is also true is... I've never dated a man who wanted to be with me more than he wanted to do anything else.

Okay, maybe there were two guys who did... but the rest of their values didn't really match up with mine.

So here I am... weeks away from 40 - and I've never been truly loved. I've never been with someone who wants to share life with me.
There were two, maybe three guys who thought about marrying me - but none of them asked.
And I'm officially an old maid. Just as damaged as the men I'm meeting and will meet from here on out.

I truly don't understand why God wants me to be alone.
He did not make us to live life alone.

My widowed, church pew sharing friend told me, "God asks, 'Why are you lonely? You have Me."
While I do believe God wants us to turn to Him and allow Him to fill us up, and fill all our needs... I still think what she said is phooey... If God expected us to fill our lives ONLY with Him, He would not have made Eve for Adam. God intended for us to share our lives - for that is how we experience His love.

I can only think that I am going about this life thing... totally wrong.
I am crying frequently.

For the record; I'm not crying about McTwitchy. Not one tear for him. I'm just so sad that I'm still so alone. The tears are for my loneliness. Surrounded by friends or not, I'm lonely.

Speaking of Helping People Get What They Need

I get my work schedule for next week today. (for the part-time job that supplements unemployment) Next week starts on Sunday. It's pretty lousy to have such short notice about your Sunday plans.

I usually have to work on Sundays. The manager is kind enough to schedule me after I can attend Mass.
This Sunday there are two events that I'd like to attend instead of work. When I asked the manager if I could get Sunday off, he said I'd have to find someone from another store to fill in - because our staff is too small to fill the gap. So basically, I'm scheduled unless I find someone to cover.

I'll be making phone calls this afternoon but I don't have high hopes. I anticipate hearing excuses like, "That's my only day with my family." and I respect that.

I want to say, "I understand, but I'm single and I have no one. I spend my free time during the week alone because all the other grown-ups are at work. Then on the weekends, I have to work. This would be the first Sunday in 5 months that I can socialize."

Really, it's only 5 hours that they won't have with their family. They'll see them when they get home and they will still love them. They still get to tuck their kids into bed, and go to bed with their spouse.

For me... it's five hours that I get to spend with someone who isn't me... and isn't a customer. Possibly meet my future husband!

Wish me luck! I have a feeling I'll still be working on Sunday.

Little Things

I have a friend who is going through a very rough time.
Relationships are ending as babies are being born and it is entirely overwhelming for her. We have an understanding right now. When she calls, I answer.

In fact, one day I was on the phone with my friend in D.C. when this friend called. I let it go to voicemail. Then my land line rang and I let it go to voicemail too. Seconds later my cell rang again. I looked at my phone to see that it was this special friend and told my D.C. friend, "____ just rang for third time in a row. I need to see what it is. I'll call you back."

Next thing I knew, I was on my way to her house while I called my D.C. friend back saying, "If you tell a mother of two children under 20 months to call you if she needs anything... she will!"

I happily do what I can to help her. Incidentally, I am also Godmother to both of her children.
Sometimes I think that God arranged for me to be unemployed right now so that I can be available to help her through the toughest time of her life.

A couple weeks ago she confided in me that she felt broken. My heart ached for her.
I thought to send her an uplifting card for mother's day, considering her kids are too small to acknowledge the day. Then I thought it would be nice to get her other friends to do the same.
A mass email went out.
One friend offered to start a meal delivery schedule.
It was beautiful!

Today she called to thank me for that. She told me that the meals are much appreciated as she just can't make it grocery store more than once every 2 -3 weeks.

Then I felt shame. In fact the last time I was at the store I thought about her, thought about calling her... and did nothing.

"Okay sister, the next time I'm at the grocery store, I'm calling you. You need to tell people that!"

Because how hard is it to pick up a few more things and swing by her house? I know she'll write a check for me on the spot. It's a small favor.

I'm sharing this just as a small reminder to think about what the people in your life need.
Do you know an overwhelmed mom who could use a bag of groceries delivered to her house? How about an elderly, widowed man or woman who could use a ride to the grocery store and an hour's company?

It might seem like we can't fit these little favors in ... but we can. A quick call, "I'm heading to the store. Do you need anything or can I pick you up on the way?"

They may not even take you up on it - but just being asked lets them know they are thought of and cared for.

In fact, I'd like to make this some sort of a fixture in my church community. We don't do well enough to serve people around here.
It only takes a spark.

My Big Gaping Hole

I sent my mom a vibrant orange and fuchsia bouquet for Mother's Day. She seldom receives flowers, (dad's not the type) so I knew that would be a hit.

But I didn't get to see her. A quick phone call before she went to bed Saturday night in a different time zone and that was the extent of the festivities.

Then, I woke up Sunday morning and checked Faceb00k to find dozens of Mother's Day greetings between spouses... gratitude for children from all the mommies I know. It actually hurt my feelings.

You know, that punched-in-the-gut feeling, like when - at my last job - every time I looked out the window from my desk I saw stay-at-home-mommas pushing strollers past my office... and it felt like they were rubbing it in. "Look at me, I have everything you want. I husband, a house and babies. Neener, neener."

I made sure to toss a hanky in my purse as I left for church.

Cringing, I anticipated Fr. Awkward's standard Mother's Day homily.
He's sweet to include all women as Mothers... but it actually hurts more. Yes, I am given the gifts of motherhood. I have maternal tendencies which are a blessing from my creator. But that doesn't make up for the fact that I don't have children and probably never will. I prayed he wouldn't say it again.

Before Mass my regular pew-mate, a trim, beautiful and stylish 60-something widow, settled in next to me. "How are you?" she asked with genuine friendship. I could only shake my head and let the waterworks start. I explained that I was hurting because I so want a family. Even just a two-person family, me and a husband.

In an attempt to console she said, "That's not the only vocation."
Because I like her, I resisted socking her in the mouth.

I cried all through Mass.I cried for my eternal loneliness and for my friend's recent miscarriage - making this her first, sad Mother's Day. My hanky was soaked.

My widow friend leaned over and said, "Sometimes church is the loneliest place on Earth."
I nodded my agreement.


Then I went to work at the portrait studio to photograph other people's families - and a special session for a ripe, expectant mother - my specialty.I turned numb to keep from crying, so I was not my lively self.

Her husband asked if we were busy that day.
"Yes." I said, "It's Mother's Day. It's lousy."
"Are you a mother?" he asked.
"No." I replied, "That's why it's lousy."

His confused expression combined with his foreign accent told me he didn't understand. In his culture, you marry. You just do. He must have determined that I suffer from infertility.

The maternity session was my last appointment of the day. I went to my car and the tears flowed heavily. My cell phone rang and I squeaked a greeting. My friend heard my tears, and told me she was calling to see if I wanted to go for a walk. I squeaked out a yes and agreed to meet her at my place.

I know the Holy Spirit put me in her heart!! She came with flowers from her yard and a loving hug and just let me cry.It hurts that people just expect a person to be married with children. Like it just happens.
And that if I haven't done so - I must have chosen it.
I've heard people say they don't understand those that want a relationship... so... have a relationship! They say. What's so hard?

And I just don't know. Why is it hard for some of us? Why is it elusive when those who say such things just fall into it and don't understand why it doesn't work out for the rest of us?

Lord. That hurts. It suggests that there must be something wrong with me.

Once, while chatting with a young hairstylist as she fixed my hair for an event... she asked if I had children.
"No."
I said it with shock as if it must be obvious I don't have children. Don't you see the gaping hole? Don't you see the missing piece? It's so obvious to me. I can't believe you don't see it.

"Do you want children?"
Yes. Of course."
Then why haven't you had any?"
I'm not married.
Which I could tell in her life experience was no excuse. Women have babies all the time whether they want one or not.

Now, as I approach my 40th birthday - I wish I'd been more irresponsible.

What hurts the most is that people don't see my big gaping hole.
If I were a widow, they would acknowledge my loss. If I were going through an ugly divorce, they would offer help. If I lost a child, they would cry with me.

But because I have not lost - I am expected to buck up and not feel pain.

I am here to tell you - never having hurts as badly as losing.
It may hurt in a different way. But it hurts in the exact same place.

Photo credits: me :-)

Whoa. Now That's Weird!

So I'm sitting here eating corn chips and white queso dip. The type of thing I usually can't stop eating. How do you stop eating chips before finding the bottom of the bag?

I'm not feeling guilty about it.

Remember when McTwitchy asked if I weighed less now than the first time he met me, and that I wasn't really even bothered by it?
There is something about my size, my natural size that makes people think I've lost weight even when I've gained weight. I'm just a tiny person (even though I think I'm normal.) I don't realize how small I am until I see myself in a photo with others. Suddenly I look as if in miniature. It's sort of weird.
So I just chalk it up to people forgetting that I'm tiny and when they see me again after some time apart - even if I'm at my biggest - they think I'm tiny.

The week after Easter, a friend's sister was in town and I ran into them at church. She exclaimed how thin I was and cautioned, "Don't lose any more."

Whatever. I reasoned that the last time she saw me, was around the time McTwitchy first saw me - and I have returned to my normal weight since then.

Today I went to my Chiropractor, who when she laid eyes on me for the first time in two months asked if I had lost weight.
I said I didn't really know as I don't own a scale.
She asked if my clothes fit the same, and I couldn't make a determination there either because I haven't worn my spring clothes all winter!

After my adjustment she indicated a room with a scale. I stepped on and waited for the numbers to settle, fully expecting my regular weight to appear... and shocked when it came up four pounds short!!

Yikes.
I asked her assistant if that scale was accurate and she assured it was. When I told her my discrepancy she said, "Oh that's good!"

I'm not so sure it is.
Sure, people lose four pounds in two months... but they are usually trying to lose.
I normally don't fluctuate more than 2 pounds either direction.

Funny thing... I told Kikr who shared that she recently lost four pounds as well!
True friend. We wear the same size and have noticed that we even gain and lose weight at the same time.

I figure now is the time to work on my muscle mass. Usually it's frustrating to try to tone up, and gain weight in the process because you are building muscle. This way, I get the best of both - get my weight and my shape back to where they need to be.

Make Out Hair - The Bliss Continues!

What is it about make-out hair? Something about tousling around with a partner makes your hair look fantastic in the morning. Something a good night's sleep never does!

So, um... it was an entire month between dates with McTwitchy. I wondered if he was just placating me with another date before he told me it wasn't going to work because he's just too busy. (My friends ask me if I was mad - or if he apologized for not seeing me. Neither. I choose not to make a big deal out of it because what guy likes that girl?) In fact, on our date I felt that being with him just wasn't the same.

I sensed the end. I even asked him if he was okay. This caught him off-guard, and then he cursed the fact that he is so easy to read.

Later he told me what was on his mind. He's concerned about not being available. He wants to be available. His business demands much of his time, because that is what he allows. He knows he has lost relationships over it... and he wants that pattern to end.

I am just impressed that we had that conversation.
I'm dating a grown-up!
And a great kisser, by the way!

Oh, and I realize from other bits of conversation... like how he took the weekend to visit a friend in need - and that he offered for me to borrow his laptop in the event I would need it for a job interview/training - and some other random niceness - that he is like me. (does that sound like I'm patting myself on the back? It's not meant to.) It occurred to me that my proclivity to offer help whenever needed, drop everything for a friend who needs a hand, loan possessions, etc -- and suddenly, I realized - so does he! Warms my heart.

The Image of Perfection

I say that I dabble in photography because I'm not confident enough in my abilities to declare myself a photographer. So the fact that I get 'Professional Photographer' magazine makes me feel all heady each month when I find it in the mail.

I pour over every beautiful image. Portraits are most intriguing to me.Remembering my own senior portraits and the relief in knowing that the photographer (then working with film, not digital images) would touch up any pimples that cropped up for picture day.

Now, I thumb through the award-winning senior portraits and see that technology is even kinder to graduates today. Their skin is airbrushed within an inch of a porcelain surface. Not a blemish in sight... nay not even pores in their skin!They (and babies... and family portraits) are treated with the same technology and the same critical eye as the models in our magazines. It's not just my photographer's magazine doing this, but almost every wedding photographer and portrait photographer in business. Some photographers limit the degree of their touch-ups. They offer different pricing scales ranging from simple touch ups to pure perfection.

It's a bit disturbing.

Last year when I took some newborn portraits for my friend, I wanted to touch up his flaky just-entered-the-dry-world-from-a-warm-wet-womb skin. She wanted some of his baby acne eliminated. It was easy to get carried away. Suddenly I realized, maybe that red mark isn't a blemish but a feature of his skin. Will this mommy look at his pictures in two years and think, "Gee he didn't have that mark when he was born. Where did that come from?"
So I gave her both the original and the touched-up images for posterity.

Where did this demand for perfection come from?

Last year when the media was all aflutter with Farrah Fawcett's death that famous poster of her was everywhere - like it was in the 70s. Her bright, cheerful fresh face, flecked with freckles and a flush in her cheeks suggesting she had spent the day in the sun.
As I watched one program, memorializing her life and career, publicity photos from the height of her career flashed on the screen. A big beautiful smile - drawing lines around her eyes. A sun-kissed face dotted with those sunny freckles, and ~gasp~ visible pores and shiny skin indicating this was a real live, breathing human being! A natural beauty. I thought...
"Those pictures would never be published today."

Today all we see is manufactured perfection. Then we wonder why we feel inadequate.

So I was pleasantly surprised last night when, in a phone conversation with McTwitchy - we landed on this topic - and he asserted that the pressure women get from the media today is absurd. The push to be uber-thin and flawless. That even fit and youthful teen stars have their waists whittled away in Photoshop for magazine covers.

It's a relief to know that he feels this way even though I've never really felt the pressure to be thin, because I have always been thin. Instead, I feel some pressure to be curvy (which is never going to happen. Works both ways ladies!!!). It tells me that he's a man with reasonable expectations.

Then, somehow this conversation turned to our first meeting - which he remembers and I don't. Our mutual friend introduced us at church three years ago. I think she told him that she wanted to make an introduction. I was with Mr. Burns at the time (which she was unaware of) so the introduction didn't stand out to me as it did for him.
But I am flattered that McTwitchy remembers details like just how long/short my hair was. It suggests that he found me memorable, and maybe even liked what he saw.

As we talked about the natural curves and fluff of real American women, he asked me if I didn't weigh a few more pounds when he met me that time in church. (shock!)
He tempered the statement by saying that I didn't look heavy, but I am clearly thinner now.
He's right. But I was stunned that he would even mention it.
However, I've worked in media my whole life so critical statements sort of roll right off of me. And when I say 'critical' I'm referring to the dictionary definition - not necessarily criticism.

I admitted that I carried eight extra pounds back then - and that with my small frame, eight pounds on me resembles 10-15 extra pounds on the average sized woman. I also assured him that I am at my regular weight now - which doesn't seem to matter to him.

Uncomfortable as it may be, I'm chalking this up to him being A) observant B) realistic C) appreciative of what is before him and D) honest.
Moreover - it's refreshing to know that he doesn't subscribe to the media-generated beauty ideal. And that, ultimately... he sees my beauty.... inner - outer - all over.

It's not just him. Most men really do see past our societal influenced beauty standards.
Isn't that good to know?

Photo Credits 1) Professional Photography Magazine 2) myself and of Farrah Fawcett - general Google search.

Figures

I've been applying to 5 jobs a week every week this year - waiting out a decision from the regional manager at my part-time job. (come on - decide already!)

There are very few job openings for my skill set. It's very frustrating.

This week, I found an opportunity to photograph babies every day and be paid well for it. I've been accepted through first round qualifications.
I must supply my own camera and laptop. (I don't have a laptop but it's about time for me to make that investment anyway)

And, if I am selected for training, I have to be available for a full week, a week from now - with my camera.

Guess what? Two days ago I sent my camera away for cleaning and maintenance. It doesn't come back for four weeks.

Figures!

(I figure I can rent or borrow a camera if it comes down to it.)

Sweet Agony

Being in like is more agonizing than being let down.

Yesterday, I was about to take a customer and her baby into the camera room, when my personal cell phone rang. I took a quick glance, saw it was McTwitchy and had to let it go to voicemail.
A huge smile spread across my face, and when my customer gave me a quizzical look I responded, "The boy just called. You remember what that was like, right?"

She smiled and nodded vigorously.

Now, don't think I'm ridiculously giddy. Just know he has given me enough feedback for me to know that this is still something good.

The agony is in waiting to see him again. It's killing me.
I'm fully prepared to feel foolish again if this thing peters out. But for now, I'm enjoying the agony.

(what really feels foolish is having this giddy, twitterpaited feeling as I'm about to turn 40! That's what makes me feel ridiculous!)

I Feel Much Better Now

Post-Edit

That's better.

I called him last night and left a message asking how his trip went. You see, I've been simmering on a slow boil for almost a week, because he said he'd call when he returned... which should have been a week ago.

Some friends suggested that I call him, but initially my pride prevented me. He's supposed to pursue me. I thought he liked me. Why should I have to remind a man that I exist? Wah.

This morning, I received a text from McTwitchy saying he extended his trip for a week and a half because he picked up some freelance work with a friend there. He'll be back on Saturday.

As Jinxie said, and I paraphrase... it's not like he was being a jerk.

Now I'm looking forward to seeing him. I really am.
Also, now I know that this is part of his personality. He's spontaneous. He gets wrapped up in his work and doesn't call lots of people! At this point, I'm willing to see how it goes.
I have no intentions of changing him. But he has already told me that he wants to manage his time better - so if I see him working on staying in touch - it's worth it to hang in there.
If not... well hey - he's just not right for me.

But I am really looking forward to seeing him again. I feel much better!

A Nugget. Post-edit

When I replied to his text, which was a promise to call either before or after he gets home, I urged him to "Call soon... I miss talking with you."
I wanted to let him know that I miss him, without sounding mushy or over-dramatic. Yet belying a sense of urgency - which any good man should appreciate.

He replied that he wanted to talk to me too, and gave me an acknowledgment that I shall not share here... except to say, it was the nugget that I needed. Just a little something that speaks to his interest in me and appreciation of me.

That was all I needed. Just a nugget.
He is worthy of my thoughts and energy.

No Excuses

I'm entirely conflicted.
I could be upset that he hasn't called me yet. Or, I could call him and just say, "Hi, how was your trip?" I haven't decided yet.

I'm conflicted because I find myself making excuses for why he hasn't called. He runs his own, one-man business from his home, and having been gone for an entire week it's reasonable that he needed to get back down to business and make sure the money is coming in. Then it was quickly the weekend, and he couldn't assume I was free.

I tend to make excuses for men who don't behave as I expect them to behave.
I certainly did that for Mr. Burns.
But, I am reminded... men don't think like women. So my expectation is completely irrelevant.

I saw his friend at church yesterday, and when she asked how things were going, I told her I haven't heard from him since he came back from his trip. She replied, "That's totally McTwitchy. He's a workaholic. I don't hear from him forever then he'll call suddenly, saying how busy he's been."

I am reminded that there is a reason some men over 40 aren't married. If it's just because he hasn't figured out how to woo yet... I guess I can give him the benefit of the doubt.

But no excuses.

After all this time, I've lost some interest in him. (Guys, you gotta strike while the iron is hot!!)
But talking with Kikr, I was reminded of just how much I enjoy time with him.

I think I'll be calling him at the end of his work day today.

If you have an opinion, feel free to share it!

Anticipation

Life has been a bit uneventful this past week as the object of my affection was out of town.

I'm not sitting around pining for him though. I managed to spend lots of time with girlfriends.

One friend got engaged during Holy Week, another had a birthday... there hasn't really been a dull moment.

Friday night my friend Kafi and I went to a party hosted by one of my favorite online stores... ModCloth.com!

Their writers were in town for a writers conference, and if you check out their website you'll understand why creative writing is so important to their product descriptions.
We met some of the writers and I told them that they're like J. Peterman for Anthropology type clothes!
Here's ModCloth's blog post about the event. As a registered shopper on their site, I was sent an email invite to the shindig! And my friend and I got some free stuff! I got the. Coolest. Earrings. I'll try to feature them here soon.
It was awesome!

On Saturday, I met a group of girlfriends for dinner and had a killer eggplant sandwich!

But back to the object of my affection.
Before he left to visit his family for a week, he said that he'd call me when he gets back.

I'll admit I was bummed that I wasn't going to hear from him, but I reasoned that we've only been seeing one another for about three weeks, and it's expected for him to compartmentalize his family visit separate from anything that is going on with me.

All my girlfriends agreed. I decided that I would just wait and see what happens when he gets back. (sometime today)
That is, until my friend's new fiance said he thought it was weird that McTwitchy would not even text me while he's gone. Then I bummed out a little.

But I have been thinking it's still not as much of a red flag as the many red flags Mr. Burns waved at me over the years.

After we had been dating more than a year, Mr. Burns went back East to visit family, and as I drove him to the airport, he said, "Don't be mad if I don't call you while I'm away."
WTH? That is NOT okay!
I replied, "I won't get mad. I'll just know that you're not thinking about me."

Mr. Burns argued that I was projecting or something... and I said no, you don't ask me to write you a hall pass for not calling while you're gone!!! And why would you want to? If you love me at all, you should miss me, even plan to miss me... and can't help yourself from calling me!

It should have been perfectly clear then that he didn't really care for me.
But we tortured ourselves for another year or so after that! Ugh.

Please learn from my mistakes ladies!!

Meanwhile, I don't want to have expectations on McTwitchy. But I also don't want to make excuses for him like I did for Mr. Burns.
So I'm just going to see what happens when he's back, and we'll go from there.

My feelings for him have been tempered over the past week that he's been gone. I'm a little less twitterpaited... but I am still feeling the pitter-pat of excitement that hopefully I'll see him again soon.
I'm just not counting on it.
And I think that's healthy.

Merit System

My girlfriend was waiting to hear the details about the guy who inspired the text: "I really like him."

Grinning broadly, I spilled. "I do. I really like him. He's a good man. I'm giddy!"

We talked about a few specifics before she looked at me through her eyelashes, saying, "If you end up in a relationship with him, I'm going to go jump off a building."

She hasn't been in a relationship in three years, and apparently the brief month between my final breakup with Mr. Burns and taking up with McTwitchy offended her sense of fairness.

Wait.

We don't know that this will be anything. This may be God's way of softening the sting of being alone before I'm really all alone once again. Although, I secretly hope that I can fulfill that urban legend of the woman who gets out of a long relationship and immediately finds the guy she'll marry. But I am also prepared for that not to happen.

When we think about happy endings - it's hard not to think of them as a reward.

When Mr. Burns and I broke up for the second and final time - I felt again, the frustration that I just don't get to have what God gives everyone else.
No husband. No job. No babies.

Where did I go wrong? What have I done so wrong? What did I do that was so bad that I am not worthy of marriage and children, when I can point out people who, according to my logic - have that and don't deserve it. (yikes. Self-righteous much?)

It took someone to point out to me... "God doesn't work on a merit system."
That's an eyeopener. Although sometimes I wish He would.

It's really hard to think that perhaps marriage isn't a reward for good behavior. Having a teammate for life... someone to come home to... someone to share meals with... someone to share the power of touch.
It certainly seems like being without those things is a punishment. The gift of children is indeed a gift, not a bonus plan. (spare me the 'Marriage is Hard' lecture --- that's another post -- and my response is ... Anything worth having is hard. Duh. Being single is hard too.)

I know that my friend doesn't begrudge me finding a worthy man less than two months after ending a relationship. She just also wants that for herself. Even seeing all the difficulties Mr. Burns and I had, she still wanted that too... because struggling together is more appealing than struggling alone.

She's wondering what is wrong with her. Why, perhaps, she is not worthy.
The answer is Nothing. and She is.
The fact is, it's not that she hasn't earned it... but maybe she's just not ready. Or the man for her isn't ready yet. And that stinks. It really freaking stinks.

But I do know, God is preparing something for all of us. When it comes, the wait will have been worth it.

Oh The Anxiety!

Almost a week went by with no word from Jerry/Hugh.
My I-really-like-him-bliss took a nosedive.
I was wrought with frustration. I thought he liked me. I knew he liked me. Why. Won't. He. Call?

I felt a bit of agony and only Kikr could console me... her charmed, married self remembered the wrenching misery of ugh... just not knowing.
She assured me this guy is solid. She has very strong opinions on this. When I accepted a date with Italian Guy last week, she scolded me. "No! We don't like him. We like Jerry/Hugh!"
(Italian Guy canceled due to work circumstances and I was relieved.)

In fact, that very night, Jerry/Hugh found himself within a block of my house and asked if he could stop by.

He likes me.
Whee.
We saw each other two nights in a row. And I think I'm changing his nickname for blog purposes.

We were snuggling on my sofa and I was playing with his hair. His dark, curly, long-ish hair. Suddenly I realized, and blurted out... "You have Dr. McDreamy hair!" He understood the reference even though he doesn't watch Grey's Anatomy. I joked about Dr. McSteamy... and he rolled his eyes a bit.

We spent more time talking, and since we're in this far enough to really start to get know one another, our topics of discussion vary from deep to light. Silly, sweet and somber.
I'm starting to be able to read him... for instance when he's about to tell me something... like cracking a joke at either his or my expense... or something that might just be inappropriate... he twitches his mouth.
So now I notice his mouth is twitching and just ask what it is he wants to say.

Twice in a row... he was preparing a zinger. On the second one, I caught his mouth twitch and asked, "What's going on in there McTwitchy?"


Oh... and despite my firm rule to never tell my mom about someone I'm dating until it is a bonafide relationship... I was talking to my mom on Easter and she asked if I was dating any interesting guys.
I only told her that McTwitchy exists. Let's pray she doesn't get all worked up.
But I did tell her that McTwitchy and I have the same personality type and seem very compatible.
She asked for clarification; so I told her how, we've only been seeing each other for a couple weeks, but when we went out on Friday and he was parallel parking on a residential street he looked over to the curb and said, "Is that a..."
and I said, "No, there's no driveway, just a sidewalk."
and he completed his parking job.
As I got out of the car I said, "Did I just answer a question you didn't even ask?"
"Uh, yeah."

More or Less

About eight years ago I met the first man I fell in love with. (I was 32)
I had had so many years of dissappointment, of Mr. Maybes, of 'I-like-him-but-I'm-not-excited-about-him' experiences that I had no idea what love might really feel like. So when I met Joki and we shared the excitement of wanting to see each other All. the. Time, not worrying about who called last, or if calling again might seem desperate... and just basking in one another's company, well it was completely new to me.

We were in the same career field (read: neither of us makes much money) which accounted for our similar personality traits and spot on senses of humor.

It didn't last. Due to our religious differences, (he's Jewish, I'm Catholic - and while I knew we could make it work if we decided to - he was set on marrying a Jewish woman. He's engaged now, BTW and she's lovely, Hubble.) we decided not to start something we couldn't finish.

It was the first hardest decision I ever made.
But I took it as a message from God that if He had made one man like Joki - there had to be more!

Soon after, one of my girlfriends came to me trying to justify breaking up with a guy who was 'great' but didn't own his own home, or have a high paying job. These were her chief complaints about the relationship.
To be honest, I thought she was being materialistic... and I told her that if I could have made it work with Joki, I was fully prepared to live with him in my little one-bedroom, 740 square foot condo for the next 40 years if that's all we could ever afford.

She told me that my passionate dissertation on Mr. Right gave her goosebumps, and also made her realize that she wasn't in love with Mr. Not-Rich-Enough.

Then I met Mr. Burns
I thought right away... in the first week that this was the guy I would marry. It was destined.

We talked about how we would live if we ended up together.
I told him once that if I could spend on deep tissue massage, what he spends on golf-- I'd be the happiest, most relaxed woman alive. He said that was definitely do-able.

When I put food away in his french door, stainless-steel fridge - the puny, poor layout of my own fridge seemed woefully inadequate. When we have a house, we must take that fridge with us.
When he brought flowers home to brighten his own condo (never for mine, btw) I dreamed of having a house with a garden so that I could grow my own flowers to decorate our home.

And a job for me? No. I would dabble in photography and try to make babies.

The life I imagined with him had to have more MORE M O R E.
Why?

I started to think that maybe I was wrong about Joki. That I must have been caught up in the giddiness of love - and it made me believe I could do without.

However
Now in the short time I've spent getting to know Jerry/Hugh, I've learned that together, we would have a modest life. And I love the idea.

Yes, I know I'm getting carried away thinking about an uncertain future... I daydream, I'm a girl... so sue me!

He runs his own business, which is a daily struggle to break even. He's told me that he already sees and appreciates that I'm not a materialistic girl, that I don't judge him for not owning a home or condo yet, even though I do own my own.

When I imagine a future with Jerry/Hugh, I imagine renting an apartment with a couple bedrooms and an office in mid-town. No backyard, but a park nearby - no garden but oh well. Monthly massages... I can probably forget about that. I would have to work if I could keep a job (perpetual unemployed girl here...) and maybe work my way into running a portrait business - to which he could contribute his skill-set on the business side of things.

So here I am again
Thinking that I could live on little but love.
Like the life I imagined with Joki.
But not with Mr. Burns. With Mr. Burns, I needed so much filler in my imaginary life.

I could only picture a life with him if I was getting more stuff from him. Probably because I knew I would never experience the love I needed.

Yes, I'm getting carried away thinking about possibilities ~ but the lesson from my day-dreaming is this... I really think I'd rather be poor and happy than rich and miserable. I think if you can see being happy with someone with little, you're probably on the right track.
If you think you can only be happy with someone if you have plenty - there's a message there.

Reconnecting

Recently, I've a discovered a sparkly, clever blogger named T!nk. You may have noticed some of his thoughts in the comments of my posts.
I, of course was intrigued and went to check out his blog where he reminded me of some words of wisdom. Wisdom that I had forgotten.
"Always listen to your gay."

It's a variation on my own form of wisdom which is... "Every woman needs a good gay man in her life."

It's so true. Recently a friend of mine moved into a new apartment building and made friends with an outrageously funny gay man. He joined us for a party and I found myself all jealous that she had a gay guy and I didn't. Wah.

Anyway.

T!nk's words reminded me that I had fallen out of touch with my dearest gay friend. I called him immediately and left a message citing T!nk's advice and telling him how much I missed him.

Now we're talking each week again - and today I got to tell him about Jerry/Hugh. I forgot how great it is to talk about guys with a gay man.

Me: "He has black sort of curly hair... and he wears it a little long."
GGF (Gay Guy Friend) : "Long curly hair? Ooh... does it look good?"
Me: "It's not really long. Just a couple inches long rather than cropped close to the head. It looks good on him - and nice to run my fingers through."
GGF: "Oh yeah, that's nice."
Me: "He's really tall, and really thin... with that black hair and blue eyes."
GGF: "OMG! How cute!"

I had to laugh... because I wouldn't even go into that much detail with my girlfriends.
I knew I truly missed my gay friend when he was talking about a client that bugs him, because the client doesn't like it when GGF uses exclamation points in his email correspondence.

GGF: "Are you kidding? For me it's not a question of whether to use an exclamation point, but how many!!!"

So true. Obviously I suffer from the same affliction.
We also discussed my coming to visit, because GGF and his partner always let me stay at their house and they are the world's best hosts.

GGF: "That's GGFP's area. He loves to play host."
Me: "That's right. He's like the Host with the Most on Steroids. 'Do you need another pillow? Can I cut you some cantaloupe in the shape of stars? Do you need a towel?"
GGF: "Do you need a towel to stand on?"

Oh my. How have I gotten along without him?

If any of my regular bloggy friends wonder how I align my faith beliefs with accepting my gay friends -- it's like this; I believe very strongly that God did not put me here to judge others. If what they are doing is wrong - God will handle that. The Lord put me here to love my neighbor - and to show love to my friends. So that is what I do. Post edit - I find it much easier to love my gay friends... than to love people who are mean to me. I need to work on that - the call to love everyone is truly a challenge!

Oh and T!nk... My GGF was also in the military, prior to DADT. Thought you'd like to know that!

I Just Need You Now

Caught between a catchy tune and something to sing along with... I'm enjoying Lady Antebellum's song 'Need You Now'.

The vocals in this song are lovely... but something about the refrain doesn't sit right with me:

It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now.
Said I wouldn't call  but I lost all control and I need you now.
And I don't know how I can do without, I just need you now.
 

Is this a song about a booty call?

It reminds me of an ex-boyfriend of mine - who years later would occasionally call me in the early morning, weekend hours when the bars shut down.
Text book booty call right?
Except, he was in Tennessee while I was in Colorado.
Not much of anything is going to happen with that sort of distance.

I could never figure out why he was calling me except for his explanation that he's still buzzed and wants to talk to someone and it was too late to call anyone in his time zone!

Since it was two hours earlier where I lived - he was calling me at about 1:00am and we would talk about what was happening in our lives, and also talk about the past... about people we both knew and we would reminisce about the time we spent together.

I always thought it was odd for an ex-boyfriend to call for that sort of conversation. It didn't happen a lot, but enough that I wasn't too alarmed when it did happen. Not surprisingly, he stopped when the last call was to announce that he got engaged the night before. (That was shocking as my response was. "To whom?!" He had never mentioned he was dating anyone. Just calling for his platonic booty call every few months.) By the way, how strange is it to call an ex-girlfriend the very morning after you propose to someone else?!! Just say'n!

So you can see how I never made sense of that.

Last weekend, I think I figured out the answer.
On Sunday I heard an interview with Lady Antebellum. They were asked how they accounted for the popularity of the song.
The answer was that they thought it was something everyone could relate to. The male singer (I don't really know the group) said, "Sometimes when a guy is up late and has had too much to drink, he just needs someone who is really important to him to be there."

Hmm. Maybe I was more important to this guy than I thought.


Jerry/Hugh update: He came over after work (9:00pm)last night with a bottle of wine to spend some time together, (rather than on the phone since we only live about 12 blocks apart). We talked until 2:00am. He's so easy to relate to, we have tons in common. I'm learning that he is truly, a good man. I really like him.

Here's a funny. As he made arrangements to meet up - we were trying to determine if we had each had dinner. (I had just made myself something, he hadn't) So he said "It's okay... I'll just eat a little something before we go to bed."
"We?" I asked.
"Did I say 'We'?" He was suddenly mortified! Explaining that he had absolutely no ulterior motives!!
I'm happy to report, we only engaged in a tiny amount of smooching... all above board. He's a good guy!

Arggg. It's actually frustrating because even though I enjoy getting to know him and taking it slow - there's part of me that just wants to jump ahead and see how it all turns out!!