For some odd reason, I am letting a 22 year old get the best of me this day after our lengthy conversation. The two regulars in my life are guys who are still figuring things out, and occasionally we will sit down to $5 Little Caesar's pizza and dvd nights that late after turn into discussions at times lengthy and thought provoking.
It was so hot last night, I had just a slice. And then we watched Sweeney Todd, and if you can handle the gruesome GRUESOME elements, it's quite funny and clever and very very good. I watched through my fingers, the way I do and my boy- friends laughed at me, the way they do, and said things like "did you see the blood just spatter against the screen!" like they are ten.
Two movies later, can't remember the first one's name right now, the youngest of the two, Joshua, decided to give me a hard time about the mechanic. Why I was considering "this" guy for my life? What did I hope to get out of it? What was I thinking? And I argued that I want to be challenged. I want that challenge of intimacy. I've been bad at it in the past, and I think I have grown a lot and I think I am ready again. And he said that I made it sound like a science project rather than a relationship with another person. And I stopped short...for a minute, but I countered that of course, I, like 70 billion other humans have a hard time thinking someone could really care for me - with all my failings and so of course I would make it sound like a "project", it's protective. And he said that he didn't understand what I was looking for? Especially in this guy. And I said maybe I just want a boyfriend...it could actually be that simple. But, he said I was stereotyping myself and he thought that was absurd because I'm "not like all the other women" he knows and he would never stereotype me that way. And I said, SO? Why do I have to be different? And he said he thought I was just "bored" and looking for something new and when I got this relationship (there's no relationship up for bid...it's a mild crush sort of thing) I wouldn't want it and then I would use its demise to hurt myself, saying I wasn't good enough for it in the first place.
This was a one hour, very intense conversation. And I left it thinking, could I really be that cold? But, first of all, I don't get bored. There are way too many things to think about for me to ever get bored. It's not a state of being that I would tolerate, let's put it that way. So, I've never said I was bored...well since grade school when it could be cool to be bored and I may have said it then, can't remember. I would never insert a human heart to cure my boredom. And my friend knows this about me. I'm not sure where this was coming from other than that this man-mechanic is very different from me. He is. But, I like men that are smart about how to fix things and are strong about how they do things and he seems this way to me. It's like my dad, who is quite brilliant, but will never entertain the conversations I want to have. I look to friendships for the philosophical and intellectual stimulation that I need. I am drawn to a more practical guy...because frankly, it's opposite of me and seems to fit me well because of it.
Am I ready to be real with someone? Who knows. And I guess that is what's got me goosey about our conversation. I mean, I think I am at a better place to let someone in to my life...but who can say for certain, until you test the water. Right?
It might be time to open another fortune cookie....
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Friday, June 6, 2008
Pace
It's funny how sometimes when you fall out of your norm, you get back on track. Not necessarily the track you were on, but maybe something closer to the track you actually want to travel.
It's been an interesting week. I have found out some hard things. I have hoped a little and been devastated a little. I have been self-loathing and then pretty darn bold. And I have found out that not everything is as it seems when it comes to your nearest and dearest sometimes.
The story is wayyyyyyy too long to go into...but let's just say that the match-making of the mechanic didn't go so well. And of course, I thought it was me and it may still be me...but the difference this time was that I reached out for support. Instead of burying my head in the sand like some odd birds I know, I talked about what I was feeling and I got so much support from some greats friends of mine. They said that my match-maker was amiss. And that's such a nice answer huh? to why the mechanic didn't show up for dinner with our little group. I thought on it.
And in the meantime, I opened another fortune cookie (I am down to half a box - they are small boxes) and it said this, "If you think you can, You can." So, I kept this secret to myself - because I don't want my friends having one more piece of ammunition for me to be bold, and I called two of my closest friends. The first one is your typical cutie - blonde, size zero, yoga instructor, could pick up a man at the drop of any hat...but she knows me and loves me and she is my secret holder of all past tales. And she said (what I thought she might say) "do something bold! have fun with it! don't worry so much!" This woman met her now husband when after walking past his workplace and sharing waves with him for 6 months, she decided to put a note on the very window he looked out of that said, "come out and talk to me!" And he did, and they did, and happily ever after. But, my thought was still, I'm not her. So, I called my second friend who is so classy beautiful, clever and generous even in her toughness - but very like me in her insecurity. She would not put a note on a window - and we are both single girls. So, she said, "you need to be bold. Tear your windshield wiper off. Time is nigh. I couldn't do it, but you should!" And so I thought, hmmm, similar answer.
I got to work this morning after realizing I am less than 100 miles from an oil change need, and that my dad is visiting on Tuesday (car questions abound) and I thought...I am calling for an oil change. So, I dialed. Ten different times and hung up, ten different times. And I sat very still. And I said, if no one comes up the stairs in two minutes, then I will call. And someone came, but they quickly left. So, I listened and I said if no one is around the stairs in ten seconds, then I will call. And no one was, in ten seconds, so I called. And it rang a thousand times (because that's what phones do at garages) and finally (of the three live people who could answer the phone) he answered.
And for one second, I couldn't say anything and my finger rested lightly on the hang-up button. But, I persevered (because what did the cookie say???) and said that I was calling to make an appointment for an oil change. And he said when and time and then he said, "who is this?" and I didn't want to say my name. I forced the wind through constricted pipes and said it, and he said...
...
"I thought that was the sound of your voice."
Which was kinda dreamy. Since I've never talked to him on a phone and I've just seen him twice in the past month for car duties. And he doesn't really know me at all.
And I know that it could be nothing. I know this. In fact, I expect this.
And when that happens, I will really try hard just to be proud of how bold I was to march in that garage not having a clue what my matchmaker said, but having a hint that it was almost nothing. He is in a self-absorbed place...I love him, but that's the truth of it. And I won't tell you that whole story, but it's kindof sad.
Anyway, the mechanic. I said yep, it's me and I won't bring the spotted dog this time!
Then, he laughed. And I said thanks. And that was all. Till MOnday.
Are you nervous? Because I definitely am.
It's been an interesting week. I have found out some hard things. I have hoped a little and been devastated a little. I have been self-loathing and then pretty darn bold. And I have found out that not everything is as it seems when it comes to your nearest and dearest sometimes.
The story is wayyyyyyy too long to go into...but let's just say that the match-making of the mechanic didn't go so well. And of course, I thought it was me and it may still be me...but the difference this time was that I reached out for support. Instead of burying my head in the sand like some odd birds I know, I talked about what I was feeling and I got so much support from some greats friends of mine. They said that my match-maker was amiss. And that's such a nice answer huh? to why the mechanic didn't show up for dinner with our little group. I thought on it.
And in the meantime, I opened another fortune cookie (I am down to half a box - they are small boxes) and it said this, "If you think you can, You can." So, I kept this secret to myself - because I don't want my friends having one more piece of ammunition for me to be bold, and I called two of my closest friends. The first one is your typical cutie - blonde, size zero, yoga instructor, could pick up a man at the drop of any hat...but she knows me and loves me and she is my secret holder of all past tales. And she said (what I thought she might say) "do something bold! have fun with it! don't worry so much!" This woman met her now husband when after walking past his workplace and sharing waves with him for 6 months, she decided to put a note on the very window he looked out of that said, "come out and talk to me!" And he did, and they did, and happily ever after. But, my thought was still, I'm not her. So, I called my second friend who is so classy beautiful, clever and generous even in her toughness - but very like me in her insecurity. She would not put a note on a window - and we are both single girls. So, she said, "you need to be bold. Tear your windshield wiper off. Time is nigh. I couldn't do it, but you should!" And so I thought, hmmm, similar answer.
I got to work this morning after realizing I am less than 100 miles from an oil change need, and that my dad is visiting on Tuesday (car questions abound) and I thought...I am calling for an oil change. So, I dialed. Ten different times and hung up, ten different times. And I sat very still. And I said, if no one comes up the stairs in two minutes, then I will call. And someone came, but they quickly left. So, I listened and I said if no one is around the stairs in ten seconds, then I will call. And no one was, in ten seconds, so I called. And it rang a thousand times (because that's what phones do at garages) and finally (of the three live people who could answer the phone) he answered.
And for one second, I couldn't say anything and my finger rested lightly on the hang-up button. But, I persevered (because what did the cookie say???) and said that I was calling to make an appointment for an oil change. And he said when and time and then he said, "who is this?" and I didn't want to say my name. I forced the wind through constricted pipes and said it, and he said...
...
"I thought that was the sound of your voice."
Which was kinda dreamy. Since I've never talked to him on a phone and I've just seen him twice in the past month for car duties. And he doesn't really know me at all.
And I know that it could be nothing. I know this. In fact, I expect this.
And when that happens, I will really try hard just to be proud of how bold I was to march in that garage not having a clue what my matchmaker said, but having a hint that it was almost nothing. He is in a self-absorbed place...I love him, but that's the truth of it. And I won't tell you that whole story, but it's kindof sad.
Anyway, the mechanic. I said yep, it's me and I won't bring the spotted dog this time!
Then, he laughed. And I said thanks. And that was all. Till MOnday.
Are you nervous? Because I definitely am.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
It's too hot to write!
Things that cannot survive in this heat:
1. an ice cream cone, no matter how carefully molded
2. the hair on my head, gone frizzy mad
3. the spotted dog who is breathing too heavily
4. the angora rabbit who has a fragile heart
5. the ice cubes in my passionfruit tea
6. a tall, cool one of anything
7. the baby tomato plants in the garden
8. the potted pansies
9. the furry cats
10. my patience.
1. an ice cream cone, no matter how carefully molded
2. the hair on my head, gone frizzy mad
3. the spotted dog who is breathing too heavily
4. the angora rabbit who has a fragile heart
5. the ice cubes in my passionfruit tea
6. a tall, cool one of anything
7. the baby tomato plants in the garden
8. the potted pansies
9. the furry cats
10. my patience.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Dark clouds
It's funny how emotions slow you down. I live so much of every day without them. I mean, maybe I get frustrated, excited, intrigued, or perplexed, but the big guys don't show up. Pain, despair, terror, hope, joy, elation, grief, heartache. They stay where they are supposed to stay to cause the least amount of trouble. And I manage them well, for the most part. I am a good emotional manager. I broke down once at work after my dog died and couldn't stop crying and had to be revealed to those around me. It wasn't a bad lesson though, I work with amazing people.
But yesterday and today have been difficult sad days at home. I've been in self-mutilation mode and it's just a bad place to be in. I don't cry, I wish I would sometimes. I just pick myself apart piece by piece until shreds of me lay all over the carpet, pavement and gravel road. And on breaks from that, I am just quiet. Like some un-thought waits behind my lips, but I cannot think it or say it or feel it. It just sits there. And I can feel the line of my mouth holding back the nothing. And I feel guilty about that, but not enough to break it. Not yet.
Last night, I stood at the window for long minutes and I noticed dark clouds against the dusk sky. They moved quickly, relentlessly, blackly, pointedly across my path of vision. And I thought, they have their purpose. But, the sky is bigger, and they know it as they travel across. The menace of their existence is put into perspective by the sky above, below, behind and in front of them. They were like small fuzzy grey soldiers marching quickly to their destination. And even as I saw them clearly, I was also comforted by what surrounded them...the sky that I know every day and all day long, every night and morning.
I'm trying to see through the dark spots right now. Looking for the sky, and I'm close to finding it. I think.
It seems treacherous to say this, almost as though I'd go through the past so many hours again and I would rather not. But, when I visited Auschwitz (definitely no comparison to where I am now) I almost felt honored by the emotion it caused me. I sobbed there, and I've never sobbed in my life. But, it felt amazing to feel something so completely, so strongly and unfalteringly. When the real emotions hit you, the big guys, you are knocked into submission by them. You can't just walk around like everything is alright for a little while. And however inconvenient that may be in the interim, I have to conclude that it's amazing sometimes to feel anything at all. Even when it hurts real bad.
But yesterday and today have been difficult sad days at home. I've been in self-mutilation mode and it's just a bad place to be in. I don't cry, I wish I would sometimes. I just pick myself apart piece by piece until shreds of me lay all over the carpet, pavement and gravel road. And on breaks from that, I am just quiet. Like some un-thought waits behind my lips, but I cannot think it or say it or feel it. It just sits there. And I can feel the line of my mouth holding back the nothing. And I feel guilty about that, but not enough to break it. Not yet.
Last night, I stood at the window for long minutes and I noticed dark clouds against the dusk sky. They moved quickly, relentlessly, blackly, pointedly across my path of vision. And I thought, they have their purpose. But, the sky is bigger, and they know it as they travel across. The menace of their existence is put into perspective by the sky above, below, behind and in front of them. They were like small fuzzy grey soldiers marching quickly to their destination. And even as I saw them clearly, I was also comforted by what surrounded them...the sky that I know every day and all day long, every night and morning.
I'm trying to see through the dark spots right now. Looking for the sky, and I'm close to finding it. I think.
It seems treacherous to say this, almost as though I'd go through the past so many hours again and I would rather not. But, when I visited Auschwitz (definitely no comparison to where I am now) I almost felt honored by the emotion it caused me. I sobbed there, and I've never sobbed in my life. But, it felt amazing to feel something so completely, so strongly and unfalteringly. When the real emotions hit you, the big guys, you are knocked into submission by them. You can't just walk around like everything is alright for a little while. And however inconvenient that may be in the interim, I have to conclude that it's amazing sometimes to feel anything at all. Even when it hurts real bad.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Old friends
When I lived in Manhattan, I worked on Wall Street in a small firm called American Bond Group. It was a shady affair, as I later learned most broker groups could be. But, like any murky waters, there were some good fish to be found.
One of the most profound lessons I learned while working at that fine establishment was to never mess with Brooklyn girls. They would literally rip your face off for several things, not the least of which was casting an eye in their boyfriend's general direction, or doing anything untowards, disrespectful or uncaring of one of their friends. My office was once tore to pieces, plants in the wall (literally hanging out of the wall) and chairs broken, just because they chased a gal into it and pummeled her before I got to work. I never had any trouble with them, thank God, and even became pretty good friends with a beautiful girl named Patrice, who could knock out every tooth in your head and never crack a nail.
The point of my story is this...today, of all days, I wish I still had my Brooklyn friend. Because she would back my friend, who's been nothing but self-involved for a month now when I needed him to be just a little generous to me, and she would get the truth out of him about what he said or didn't say.
I don't tell my stories, the ones that have ripped and torn at my life. But, it took so very much to get me here and I just needed his help this one situation after months of help on all of his. If Patrice were here, she would pound into him what it took for me to ask for his help and she would find out exactly what happened along the way. And then, she'd probably rip his face off.
I love him. But right now, at this very aching moment, I think I might enjoy seeing that activity.
One of the most profound lessons I learned while working at that fine establishment was to never mess with Brooklyn girls. They would literally rip your face off for several things, not the least of which was casting an eye in their boyfriend's general direction, or doing anything untowards, disrespectful or uncaring of one of their friends. My office was once tore to pieces, plants in the wall (literally hanging out of the wall) and chairs broken, just because they chased a gal into it and pummeled her before I got to work. I never had any trouble with them, thank God, and even became pretty good friends with a beautiful girl named Patrice, who could knock out every tooth in your head and never crack a nail.
The point of my story is this...today, of all days, I wish I still had my Brooklyn friend. Because she would back my friend, who's been nothing but self-involved for a month now when I needed him to be just a little generous to me, and she would get the truth out of him about what he said or didn't say.
I don't tell my stories, the ones that have ripped and torn at my life. But, it took so very much to get me here and I just needed his help this one situation after months of help on all of his. If Patrice were here, she would pound into him what it took for me to ask for his help and she would find out exactly what happened along the way. And then, she'd probably rip his face off.
I love him. But right now, at this very aching moment, I think I might enjoy seeing that activity.
Monday, June 2, 2008
A note from the twin dragons
Okay...so it's on. Well, possibly on. Maybe on.
The old group of friends including the new mechanic.
So that we can get to know each other.
And I cannot begin to tell you the headache this has been. So, I said to my friend Leslie, watch us hate each other. Watch him hate me.
Anyway, it's maybe tomorrow night. Tuesday night dinner out. Not in. Not at Leslie's. But out on the town. Meeting him.
(I too am fatigued by the short sentences, but it correctly displays the way thoughts bounce around for me about this particular subject.)
He has one more chance to back out...tomorrow. Or two. Just not showing up.
And it's okay. I mean, it could even be a relief.
I'm fine on my own. Fine with the amount of friends that I have already. Fine.
And yet searching.
And so today, I opened up the pink box of fortune cookies (I keep them on hand for special occasions, sporadic fortune tellings or just random sweetness with oranges). I broke the cookie in two, and it said this on the tiny white slip of paper...
Someone is thinking about you.
(and I have to admit, just to you, that it, well...it felt a little magical.)
Sunday, June 1, 2008
What I've been doing...
SAturday, the day began at Hall's Nursery in Ararat, Virginia. This is one of my favorite places and I have to go in with a budget, or I go crazy. They have trees with oranges on them for God's sake right there in the nursery in Virginia. I love it so much and look forward to the trip immensley. I meant to take photos there, but got so enthusiastic that I totally forgot my camera. I bought a flat of tomatoes for the garden (planted those today) and a flat of herbs and flowers. And a big bag of soil. So, here we are beginning...Bentley in photo, as spotted dogs do.
Here's my herb box and a couple tomato plants. Parsley, basil, thyme, oregano. I planted more over at the garden, but sometimes you just want to step out the door to herbal fulfillment.
A hanging flower and some potted herbs and watercress. Never tried to have watercress before. One of those spontaneous buys that I do when I see gorgeous healthy plants that intrigue me (budget worthy).
This morning, the winery where I spend about 50-70 hours of my life. Isn't it gorgeous though?? We had our first Sunday Sounds Music on the patio. This patio is brand spanking new...I had my doubts, but it looks pretty spiffy.
To get the brick patio, we gave up a big water garden (too many children playing in it and we were afraid they'd get hurt -there was also a pond that puppy toes kept ripping the liner out of - so now, we just have this baby fountain. And who should plant himself there, but the Black Dog himself, Mr. Lucky. He drew a crowd and eventually sat down in the water and just looked at all of us. We adopted him last year, and he's a true love.
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