Ici je vais à nouveau.
Eh bien, en fait je commencé à aller dans cette voie en Février 2015, je viens ai pas partagée avec le monde à ce point. Permettez-moi d'entrer à la question à portée de main - je suis tombé en amour à nouveau, et je ne peux pas me lever (et ne veulent pas se lever).
La semaine avant la Saint Valentin 2015, je décidai qu'il était temps de revenir dans le jeu après mon dernier amour avait trébuché et était tombé en dehors au cours des mois précédents. (Thanksgiving 2014 est à jamais gravé dans mon esprit comme un point de relation amoureuse faible.) Dans la cacophonie des messages, des allumettes, des clins d'œil, des diapositives, et non-sens, un homme est une démarcation nette avec tous les autres avec une question simple: un homme m'a envoyé un message simple qui dit.? "Bonjour Alors, qui est votre auteur préféré de science-fiction"
Le message est apparu sur mon téléphone, et je fait arrêta de marcher et se tenait par un arbre pour un moment 23 et le Montana, à Santa Monica. Je fus agréablement surpris, et a pris quelques minutes pour écrire une réponse, désireux de participer à l'un de mes conversations préférées. "Clarke, Boulle, Atwood, Huxley, et le gars qui a écrit" Altered Carbon ", mais je ne peux pas penser à son nom en ce moment."
Je fus immédiatement frappé par le fait qu'il n'a pas fait de commentaires sur mon sourire, ou mes cheveux, et lui ai demandé ce que je cherchais dans une relation - il a effectivement lu ce que je l'ai écrit et demandé à certains quelque chose de pertinent à moi en tant qu'individu, en tant que personne, comme quelqu'un avec un brain.That conduit à son valu le surnom de "l'auteur scifi gars» tout en discutant de mes diverses rencontres candidats de potentiel d'amour avec mes amis. (Il y avait Tesla homme, skieur, Long Beach COO, pour ne nommer que quelques-uns)
Et il a commencé. Cet échange de message initial a été suivi par une nuit de pizza, karaoké, Manhattan et Mark le karaoké Maker. Il a chanté Who "Squeezebox" et "Glass Onion" par les Beatles - les deux favoris de la mine. Une randonnée de cinq mile le long de la ligne de crête entre Encino et Brentwood. De longues conversations Deli Oncle Bernie. Karaoké à la lumière du gaz. Aller à Disney. Shopping au marché de producteurs et de cuisiner ensemble. Perdu heures à une chaîne de temps d'embrasser, de parler, le toucher, la sieste, en explorant, en riant, chatouillant, dévisager, demande, réponse, donner, prendre, manger, chanter, courir, de complot, de la planification, la conduite voyages.
Et je suis tombé pour elle.
Et je lui ai dit.
Et je pris la chance de lui dire en premier.
Je laisse mes endommagé, battus coeur respiration protégée des intempéries, et un jour aléatoire de mai, un trottoir aléatoire à Encino, vers 11h00, un jour au hasard, je me suis regardé dans son cou sur la pointe des pieds pour murmurer à son oreille, " Je tombe pour vous ". Il a répondu avec une étreinte qui était si fort, si enveloppant que je peux encore ressentir les effets persistants.
Comment pourrais-je être assez fou pour tomber à nouveau amoureux? Je suis marié trois fois, et ils ont échoué. Je suis allé dans les relations «sérieux» d'autres fois aussi bien. Comment pourrais-je avoir confiance en moi pour voir si je tombais en amour ou de tomber dans une habitude que je avais développé? Pourquoi suis-je prêt à risquer la douleur, au risque de tourment, de risquer la chance de paraître stupide à nouveau d'abord lui dire? Je pense avec le recul, il est parce que cette fois, mes sentiments étaient différents. Cette fois, mon cœur (qui, par tous les comptes devraient être, un rocher blasés impitoyable atrophiée sensibles maintenant) fait pas le choix - il a été provisoirement être touché par quelqu'un qui avait une manière d'être qui était magnétique, coffre-fort, et passionné.
En Juin, je lui ai dit que je l'aimais.
Mon histoire romantique a fourni divertissement pour mes amis et ma famille depuis des décennies. Comment pourrais-je leur dire - encore une fois - je suis en amour? Le flot ininterrompu de "Promets-moi vous ne serez jamais se remarier", "Vous savez que vous pouvez vivre dans le péché, non?" "Je pense que vous faites mieux quand vous êtes vous-même, vous êtes plus heureux seul." Je certainement ne encourage à ne pas partager les bonnes nouvelles de ma joyeuse découverte de cet homme avec mon cercle le plus proche. Je sais qu'ils viennent généralement à partir d'un lieu d'amour, le souci et les soins quand ils donnent leur avis, cependant, il reste m'a rendu triste.
19 juillet, il m'a dit qu'il me aimait trop.
Est-il écrit que si vous avez échoué à l'amour avant qu'il y ait un nombre limité de fois que vous pouvez essayer? Est quelqu'un qui reste pendant des années dans une relation qui les rend malheureux, déprimé, ou de les exposer à des abus "meilleur" ou plus de succès à l'amour que je suis? Y at-il un panel de juges olympiques attribuera une note à votre vie amoureuse à la fin de tout cela? Juste avant de passer par les portes du paradis ou obtenez sur l'escalator à l'enfer, vous recevrez votre "score de l'amour"? Je ne crois pas. Si nous le faisons, je suis confiant que je vais marquer assez bien dans Freestyle et catégories artistiques .... Je suppose que mon score dans les danses imposées sera faible.
Tout ce que je sais est que je aime les hommes. Je adore l'idée d'avoir un partenaire dans ce voyage. Je adore l'idée de l'amour. Je suis vraiment aventuré dans toutes mes relations indépendamment de la façon dont ils ont terminé. Je certainement ai pris des risques, peut-être plus que d'autres, et je ne le regrette pas.
Ma mère m'a protégé à une réunion de famille l'année dernière quand les cousins ont sauté sur le train en marche "nous promettre vous ne serez jamais se remarier." Lorsque je l'ai dit, "Non - Je ne vais pas faire une promesse que je ne peux pas garder Je suis seulement 47 et je prévois de vivre jusqu'à 100 ans - beaucoup de choses peuvent se produire dans 50 ans" ma mère a suivi avec ceci:
"Lorsque vous avez trouvé l'amour de votre vie, comme je le faisais avec Jay, vous arrêtez de regarder. Votre cœur est satisfaite. Quand vous avez pas encore trouvé l'amour de votre vie .... vous vous sentez obligé de continuer à chercher.» Elle sourit et me regarda dans les yeux avec ce regard de compréhension maternelle.
Donc, je gardais mon amour sous le boisseau pour les 10 derniers mois, en voulant éviter le jugement, des questions, des commentaires - si l'intérêt ou ridicule. Mais aujourd'hui, le 5 Décembre, 2015, je me suis réveillé le sentiment inspiré de la partager. Cette fois, il se sent différent. Cette fois, fonctionne bien différemment. Cette fois, cette fois ..... ..... cette fois, je crois quand il me dit qu'il me aime pour qui je suis et ce que je pense et ce que je fais.
Mon cœur .... ma capacité d'aimer ..... il faut un léchage et avance à grands pas.
Saturday, December 5, 2015
How Many Licks Does It Take to Get to the Center of a Tootsie Pop? Or the Center of My Heart?
Here I go again.
Well, I actually started going down this path back in February of 2015, I just have not shared it with the world at this point. Let me get straight to the matter at hand - I have fallen in love again, and I cannot get up (and do not want to get up).
The week before Valentine's Day 2015, I decided it was time to get back into the game after my last romance had stumbled and fallen apart over the previous few months. (Thanksgiving 2014 is forever etched upon my mind as a low point on the love/relationship scale.) In the cacophony of messages, matches, winks, swipes, and nonsense, one man clearly stood out from all of the others with one simple question: a man sent me a simple message that said, "Hello. So who is your favorite science fiction author?"
The message popped up on my phone, and I actually stopped walking and stood by a tree for a moment on 23rd and Montana in Santa Monica. I was pleasantly surprised, and took a few minutes to prattle off a response, eager to engage in one of my favorite conversations. "Clarke, Boulle, Atwood, Huxley, and the guy that wrote "Altered Carbon" but I cannot think of his name at the moment."
I was immediately taken by the fact that he had not commented on my smile, or my hair, or asked what I was looking for in a relationship - he actually read what I wrote and asked something pertinent to me as an individual, as a person, as someone with a brain.That led to his earning the nickname of "the scifi author guy" whilst discussing my various potential dating candidates with my friends. (There was Tesla Dude, the skier, Long Beach COO, to name a few)
And so it began. This initial message exchange was followed by a night of pizza, karaoke, and Maker's Mark Manhattans.At karaoke, he sang the Who's "Squeezebox" and the Beatles' "Glass Onion" - both favorites of mine. A five mile hike along the crest line between Encino and Brentwood. Long conversations at Uncle Bernie's Deli. Karaoke at the Gas Light. Going to Disney. Shopping at the Farmer's Market and cooking together. Hours lost to the time warp of kissing, talking, touching, napping, exploring, laughing, tickling, staring, asking, answering, giving, taking, eating, singing, running, conspiring, planning, driving, traveling.
And I fell for him.
And I told him.
And I took the risk of telling him first.
I let my damaged, weather beaten, protected heart breathe, and on a random day in May on a random sidewalk in Encino, at about 11:00 a.m. on a random day, I leaned into his neck on tiptoe to whisper into his ear, "I am falling for you." He replied with a hug that was so strong, so enveloping, that I can still feel the lingering effects.
How could I be so foolish to fall in love again? I have been married three times, and they have not worked out. I have been in "serious" relationships other times as well. How could I trust myself to know whether I was falling in love or falling into a habit I had developed? Why was I willing to risk the pain, risk the torment, risk the chance of looking foolish again by telling him first? I imagine in retrospect it is because this time, my feelings were different. This time, my heart (which by all sensible accounts should be a jaded, atrophied, calloused rock by now) was not making choices - it was tentatively allowing itself to be touched by someone who had a way of being that was magnetic, safe, and passionate.
In June, I told him I loved him.
My romantic history has provided entertainment for my friends and family for decades. How could I tell them - AGAIN - that I was in love? The endless stream of "Promise me you will never get married again", "You know you can just live in sin, right?", "I think you do better when you are by yourself, you are happier alone." certainly did not encourage me to share the good news of my joyous discovery of this man with my closest circle. I know that they are generally coming from a place of love, concern, and care when they offer their advice, however, it still made me sad.
July 19th, he told me he loved me too.
Is it written that if you have failed at love before that there is some limited number of times that you can try? Is someone that stays for years in a relationship that makes them unhappy, depressed, or exposes them to abuse "better" or more successful at love than I am? Is there an Olympic judge panel that will assign a score to your love life at the end of it all? Just before you go through the pearly gates or get on the escalator down into hell, will you receive your "love score"? I just don't think so. If we do, I am confident that I will score pretty well in the Freestyle and Artistic categories....I imagine my score in the Compulsories will be low.
All I know is that I love men. I love the idea of having a partner on this journey. I love the idea of love. I have earnestly ventured into all of my relationships regardless of how they have ended. I certainly have taken risks, maybe more so than others have, and I do not regret it.
My Mom defended me at a Family Reunion last year when some cousins jumped on the "Promise us you will never get married again" bandwagon. When I said, "No - I will not make a promise I cannot keep. I am only 47 and I plan on living to be 100 - a lot can happen in over 50 years" my Mom followed up with this:
"When you have found the love of your life, like I did with Jay, you stop looking. Your heart is satisfied. When you haven't found the love of your life yet....you feel compelled to keep looking." She smiled and looked me in the eye with that glance of motherly understanding.
And so I have kept my love under wraps for the past 10 months, wanting to avoid the judgment, the questions, the commentary - whether out of concern or out of ridicule. But today, December 5, 2015, I awoke feeling inspired to share it. This time, it feels different. This time, it works differently. This time...this time.........this time, I believe it when he tells me he loves me for who I am, and how I think, and what I do. This time, I love the man he is and not my romanticized version of him.
My heart....my ability to love.....it takes a licking and keeps on ticking.
Well, I actually started going down this path back in February of 2015, I just have not shared it with the world at this point. Let me get straight to the matter at hand - I have fallen in love again, and I cannot get up (and do not want to get up).
The week before Valentine's Day 2015, I decided it was time to get back into the game after my last romance had stumbled and fallen apart over the previous few months. (Thanksgiving 2014 is forever etched upon my mind as a low point on the love/relationship scale.) In the cacophony of messages, matches, winks, swipes, and nonsense, one man clearly stood out from all of the others with one simple question: a man sent me a simple message that said, "Hello. So who is your favorite science fiction author?"
The message popped up on my phone, and I actually stopped walking and stood by a tree for a moment on 23rd and Montana in Santa Monica. I was pleasantly surprised, and took a few minutes to prattle off a response, eager to engage in one of my favorite conversations. "Clarke, Boulle, Atwood, Huxley, and the guy that wrote "Altered Carbon" but I cannot think of his name at the moment."
I was immediately taken by the fact that he had not commented on my smile, or my hair, or asked what I was looking for in a relationship - he actually read what I wrote and asked something pertinent to me as an individual, as a person, as someone with a brain.That led to his earning the nickname of "the scifi author guy" whilst discussing my various potential dating candidates with my friends. (There was Tesla Dude, the skier, Long Beach COO, to name a few)
And so it began. This initial message exchange was followed by a night of pizza, karaoke, and Maker's Mark Manhattans.At karaoke, he sang the Who's "Squeezebox" and the Beatles' "Glass Onion" - both favorites of mine. A five mile hike along the crest line between Encino and Brentwood. Long conversations at Uncle Bernie's Deli. Karaoke at the Gas Light. Going to Disney. Shopping at the Farmer's Market and cooking together. Hours lost to the time warp of kissing, talking, touching, napping, exploring, laughing, tickling, staring, asking, answering, giving, taking, eating, singing, running, conspiring, planning, driving, traveling.
And I fell for him.
And I told him.
And I took the risk of telling him first.
I let my damaged, weather beaten, protected heart breathe, and on a random day in May on a random sidewalk in Encino, at about 11:00 a.m. on a random day, I leaned into his neck on tiptoe to whisper into his ear, "I am falling for you." He replied with a hug that was so strong, so enveloping, that I can still feel the lingering effects.
How could I be so foolish to fall in love again? I have been married three times, and they have not worked out. I have been in "serious" relationships other times as well. How could I trust myself to know whether I was falling in love or falling into a habit I had developed? Why was I willing to risk the pain, risk the torment, risk the chance of looking foolish again by telling him first? I imagine in retrospect it is because this time, my feelings were different. This time, my heart (which by all sensible accounts should be a jaded, atrophied, calloused rock by now) was not making choices - it was tentatively allowing itself to be touched by someone who had a way of being that was magnetic, safe, and passionate.
In June, I told him I loved him.
My romantic history has provided entertainment for my friends and family for decades. How could I tell them - AGAIN - that I was in love? The endless stream of "Promise me you will never get married again", "You know you can just live in sin, right?", "I think you do better when you are by yourself, you are happier alone." certainly did not encourage me to share the good news of my joyous discovery of this man with my closest circle. I know that they are generally coming from a place of love, concern, and care when they offer their advice, however, it still made me sad.
July 19th, he told me he loved me too.
Is it written that if you have failed at love before that there is some limited number of times that you can try? Is someone that stays for years in a relationship that makes them unhappy, depressed, or exposes them to abuse "better" or more successful at love than I am? Is there an Olympic judge panel that will assign a score to your love life at the end of it all? Just before you go through the pearly gates or get on the escalator down into hell, will you receive your "love score"? I just don't think so. If we do, I am confident that I will score pretty well in the Freestyle and Artistic categories....I imagine my score in the Compulsories will be low.
All I know is that I love men. I love the idea of having a partner on this journey. I love the idea of love. I have earnestly ventured into all of my relationships regardless of how they have ended. I certainly have taken risks, maybe more so than others have, and I do not regret it.
My Mom defended me at a Family Reunion last year when some cousins jumped on the "Promise us you will never get married again" bandwagon. When I said, "No - I will not make a promise I cannot keep. I am only 47 and I plan on living to be 100 - a lot can happen in over 50 years" my Mom followed up with this:
"When you have found the love of your life, like I did with Jay, you stop looking. Your heart is satisfied. When you haven't found the love of your life yet....you feel compelled to keep looking." She smiled and looked me in the eye with that glance of motherly understanding.
And so I have kept my love under wraps for the past 10 months, wanting to avoid the judgment, the questions, the commentary - whether out of concern or out of ridicule. But today, December 5, 2015, I awoke feeling inspired to share it. This time, it feels different. This time, it works differently. This time...this time.........this time, I believe it when he tells me he loves me for who I am, and how I think, and what I do. This time, I love the man he is and not my romanticized version of him.
My heart....my ability to love.....it takes a licking and keeps on ticking.
Thursday, February 13, 2014
Love......Is It Really Only Reserved for Living Things?
So when I was little (about 6), I remember going to my Great Aunt Nang* and Great Uncle Frank's house in Glen Rock, New Jersey. Aunt Nang had made spaghetti and sauce for lunch, and I remember that it smelled delicious. As I sat down to a lovely bowl of spaghetti, I said, "I LOVE spaghetti!!" Aunt Nang was swift in her response: "You love people; you like spaghetti".
Really?
Even at that young age, I recall thinking to myself, "Well, she can say what she wants but I really love spaghetti" and filing that life lesson away for future reflection. I have thought of it often, and have even parroted the thought to my own children (and some beleaguered friends) usually in a tongue-in-cheek fashion.
Certainly, Aunt Nang is rolling over in her grave today, as I can proclaim that I am in love.......with my 1988 Blue Mercedes Benz 560 SEL, torn leather interior and all! It is like a dream to drive, moving through the 405 traffic like a warm knife through cool butter. The roar and rumble of the V8 engine is mesmerizing. The enormous, make-out accommodating back seat is the stuff of pulpy fiction and secret thoughts. The power is breathtaking.
Let me acknowledge that I have seen too many Disney movies too many times. The events, thoughts, and feelings of today confirm this fact. This afternoon, I took the car to Huntington Beach and back. I suppose this is our first "road trip" (hopefully the first of many). I felt as if the car was enjoying the ride (the car - the inanimate car).
About half of the way back to Santa Monica, I started thinking about how I found the car, all alone and neglected in the back corner of someone's back yard,grass weeds growing up around the wheels, covered in the spooky dust of abandonment. I approached the car quietly, and slowly walked around the whole thing, pausing to peer through the windows, examine the roof, run my fingers along the hood, glance at the back license plate. It seemed as if the car was apologizing for not being the original paint color. The car seemed embarrassed and exposed - unsure if I would like it or reject it.
When I told the owner I wanted to test drive it, he had to move two trucks and a BMW out of the way and then he had to guide me as I drove the behemoth through a narrow pass between a boat and a jet ski, then a dune rider and a canopy, past another boat and through a fence. Honestly, I felt like I was rescuing the car more so than purchasing it.
The silver hood star was missing from the car, giving it a sad face. It reminded me of our Old English Sheepdog, Laughton, when we shaved his coat one summer. He looked embarrassed and forlorn. When I took the car to my Mercedes Master Mechanic, we agreed that the first thing he should do is replace the hood star. He had one on hand that he had just been waiting to use, and he was so happy to put it on. He actually drove the car over to my office before it was fully ready for delivery so I could see that the star was back on! I swear to you, the car now looked like he was smiling and happy.
Without the star, it looked like the car felt like it had something to prove. With the star, it had a quiet confidence....a presence.
In a further display of anthropomorphic behavior, I have decided that the car is a boy, and I am working on selecting his name. Friedrich and Franz are early front runners, although Loki is in the running as well. (My ML 320 is a girl named Veronica. I hope that she is not getting jealous.)
I have already taken the High Mileage Award form to WI Simonson Mercedes-Benz Dealership http://www.wisimonson.net/index.htm for verification (it has 171,486 miles) and gathered info for joining the local classic Benz group (the W126 subgroup, natch). Created my profile on BenzWorld.org (http://www.benzworld.org/) all the while shaking my head at myself and muttering under my breath, "Why haven't you already joined this forum? Should have joined in 2002...." I have already stopped by Westside Mercedes to speak with Ken Spratford about reupholstering the front seats and doing some restoration work. (They are the BEST - http://www.westsidemercedes.com/ - and they work on more than just Mercedes. I saw a sweet Morgan, a jaw dropping EType Jag, and an unbelievably beautiful Corvette in addition to a gaggle of Mercs while I was there the other day.)
So this is my new pet...my new love. After I paid the seller and drove away, 'Mony, Mony' by Billy Idol was playing on the radio. Then, as that ended, 'Vehicle' by the Ides of March came on. I took that as a sign that this car was meant for me...had been waiting for me...and it would love me back.
(Did I mention I have watched WAY TOO MANY Disney movies? Way too many times?)
Have you ever been in love with a car? Tell me about it......
********************************************************************************
*Great Aunt Nang - Her real name was Agnes. My adorable father was her first nephew. When he was little, he couldn't pronounce Agnes, and it came out "Nang". She thought that was so amazingly delightful that she went by Nang for the rest of her days.
Really?
Even at that young age, I recall thinking to myself, "Well, she can say what she wants but I really love spaghetti" and filing that life lesson away for future reflection. I have thought of it often, and have even parroted the thought to my own children (and some beleaguered friends) usually in a tongue-in-cheek fashion.
Certainly, Aunt Nang is rolling over in her grave today, as I can proclaim that I am in love.......with my 1988 Blue Mercedes Benz 560 SEL, torn leather interior and all! It is like a dream to drive, moving through the 405 traffic like a warm knife through cool butter. The roar and rumble of the V8 engine is mesmerizing. The enormous, make-out accommodating back seat is the stuff of pulpy fiction and secret thoughts. The power is breathtaking.
Let me acknowledge that I have seen too many Disney movies too many times. The events, thoughts, and feelings of today confirm this fact. This afternoon, I took the car to Huntington Beach and back. I suppose this is our first "road trip" (hopefully the first of many). I felt as if the car was enjoying the ride (the car - the inanimate car).
About half of the way back to Santa Monica, I started thinking about how I found the car, all alone and neglected in the back corner of someone's back yard,
When I told the owner I wanted to test drive it, he had to move two trucks and a BMW out of the way and then he had to guide me as I drove the behemoth through a narrow pass between a boat and a jet ski, then a dune rider and a canopy, past another boat and through a fence. Honestly, I felt like I was rescuing the car more so than purchasing it.
The silver hood star was missing from the car, giving it a sad face. It reminded me of our Old English Sheepdog, Laughton, when we shaved his coat one summer. He looked embarrassed and forlorn. When I took the car to my Mercedes Master Mechanic, we agreed that the first thing he should do is replace the hood star. He had one on hand that he had just been waiting to use, and he was so happy to put it on. He actually drove the car over to my office before it was fully ready for delivery so I could see that the star was back on! I swear to you, the car now looked like he was smiling and happy.
Without the star, it looked like the car felt like it had something to prove. With the star, it had a quiet confidence....a presence.
In a further display of anthropomorphic behavior, I have decided that the car is a boy, and I am working on selecting his name. Friedrich and Franz are early front runners, although Loki is in the running as well. (My ML 320 is a girl named Veronica. I hope that she is not getting jealous.)
I have already taken the High Mileage Award form to WI Simonson Mercedes-Benz Dealership http://www.wisimonson.net/index.htm for verification (it has 171,486 miles) and gathered info for joining the local classic Benz group (the W126 subgroup, natch). Created my profile on BenzWorld.org (http://www.benzworld.org/) all the while shaking my head at myself and muttering under my breath, "Why haven't you already joined this forum? Should have joined in 2002...." I have already stopped by Westside Mercedes to speak with Ken Spratford about reupholstering the front seats and doing some restoration work. (They are the BEST - http://www.westsidemercedes.com/ - and they work on more than just Mercedes. I saw a sweet Morgan, a jaw dropping EType Jag, and an unbelievably beautiful Corvette in addition to a gaggle of Mercs while I was there the other day.)
So this is my new pet...my new love. After I paid the seller and drove away, 'Mony, Mony' by Billy Idol was playing on the radio. Then, as that ended, 'Vehicle' by the Ides of March came on. I took that as a sign that this car was meant for me...had been waiting for me...and it would love me back.
"I'm your vehicle baby
I'll take you anywhere you wanna go.
I'm your vehicle woman
But I'm not sure you know
That I love ya
I need ya
I want ya,
Got to have you child,
Great God in heaven you know I love you."
I'll take you anywhere you wanna go.
I'm your vehicle woman
But I'm not sure you know
That I love ya
I need ya
I want ya,
Got to have you child,
Great God in heaven you know I love you."
Vehicle - Ides of March
Have you ever been in love with a car? Tell me about it......
********************************************************************************
*Great Aunt Nang - Her real name was Agnes. My adorable father was her first nephew. When he was little, he couldn't pronounce Agnes, and it came out "Nang". She thought that was so amazingly delightful that she went by Nang for the rest of her days.
Monday, January 20, 2014
Devinez qui est tombé ..... et ne veut pas se lever
C'est vrai. C'est moi.
Donc, pour le mois passé, j'ai courageusement enduré les railleries, les moqueries taquine, les sourcils levés, les conseils non sollicités, les chortles, les yeux révulsés et les hochements de tête comme des amis ont découvert que j'ai eu l'audace de tomber en amour. Encore une fois.
J'ai eu la sagesse de minimiser les explications ou tout moyen de défense.
A partir des années 2005 jusqu'en 2011, j'avais gagné (à juste titre , à bien des égards) le titre peu enviable de 'pointilleux Bitch' de notre troupeau de copines. Ma liste de 'disqualifiers automatiques' a été longue, détaillée, et immuable. C'était assez épique .... causant certaines femmes m'invitent à parler à leurs jeunes sœurs et les filles de l'adolescence, le partage des listes soigneusement abattus et le raisonnement derrière chaque élément.
Ensuite, le puissant tombé comme je l'ai été recueillie par un criminel lisse. Un escroc brillante qui a eu un plaisir particulier à tromper quelqu'un d'aussi prudent, en incitant quelqu'un avec un tel mur construit pour protéger sa 'forte sur-extérieur-aspect-encore-si-délicat-l'intérieur' de coeur. Il devait avoir un sens comme de la réalisation de frapper celui-ci plus (j'étais sur 6 dans la ligne. Oh bien - Content d'avoir pensé à elle rapidement et échappé indemne.)
Et c'est ainsi qu'a commencé l'autopsie d'amis et de famille, à essayer de comprendre comment cela s'était passé. Qu'est-ce qui n'allait pas avec moi? Comment avais-je laisser cela se produire? J'étais le plus fort qu'ils sont venus en essayant de décider si oui ou non d'aller sur une deuxième date! Si l'on pouvait m'arriver ....... à qui d'autre pourrait-il se passer? Je dois avoir agi trop vite. Longue distance ne vous permet pas de faire connaissance avec quelqu'un de vraiment bien. Nous aurions vécu ensemble/été engagé plus/pas vécu ensemble.
Que puis-je dire? C'est arrivé. J'ai pensé à elle. Je suis passé par le chagrin de se rendre compte que j'avais fait une décision de vie basée sur non seulement un mensonge ... mais beaucoup des mensonges. J'ai dû lâcher du rêve que j'avais tenu si cher de trouver celui, mon partenaire, celui qui chantait pour moi, celui qui ferait mon coeur chanter. J'ai récupérée.
Que vais-je faire? Pleurer tous les jours? Bien sûr, ce n'est pas ce que je ferais. Je n'ai pas été mis sur cette terre pour vivre dans un ressassement continuel de déception, la tristesse et la négativité. Je n'ai pas gagné le surnom de 'Weeble' par se vautrer dans la misère pour toute longueur de temps.
Ma famille était triste. Ma maman a proclamé que j'étais "pas le droit de parler aux garçons". Ma sœur m'a dit que je n'étais pas autorisé à jamais se remarier. Mon frère a dit qu'il m'avait connu toute ma vie, et que je suis très heureux quand je suis seul (il a un point là. Je suis heureux de presque tous les jours au dessus du sol, je suppose que je suis juste chanceux de cette façon). C'était assez agréable de voir comment beaucoup de gens m'aimaient et voulaient me protéger du mal et la douleur. (Je suppose que je suis juste chanceux que trop.)
L'essentiel pour moi est que j'ai décidé que la dernière relation a été une erreur de casting. Le rôle - le rôle principal masculin dans ma vie - était encore un grand rôle qui devait être rempli! Le défaut n'était pas avec mon désir et mon rêve - la faille était dans le caractère embauché pour le poste. Je me suis réveillé en Septembre prêt à commencer une nouvelle recherche.
J'ai pris un peu de temps. Je n'ai même pas fait mon profil de match.com jusqu'à ce que le début d'Octobre. Même alors, je n'ai pas payé pour un abonnement jusqu'à l'Halloween. Puis, je me suis réveillé et j'ai décidé qu'il était temps de vous abonner, tendre la main, et de voir qui pourrait être à la recherche d' une vie comme celle que je cherchais à créer. J'ai signé pour six mois ... Je ne pense pas que je m'attendais à rencontrer quelqu'un qui change la vie cette semaine, ou même ce jour-là .
Qu'est-ce que dire quand les gens font des plans, Dieu rit? Ce jour-là , dans l'un des cinq premiers profils que j'ai examinés, j'ai vu a grand, beau, la science-fiction, l'âge approprié (si il ne mentait pas) locale, avec succès, d'articuler, l'amant de la musique des années 80, l'homme irlandaise et américaine portait un kilt. Disons que pour un moment, je pensais que je rêvais, et que j'avais évoquée un profil parfait d'un homme. Je pensais que j'avais une sorte d'hallucination provoquée par tant d'années de recherche et d'attente. De ce que je me rappelle, j'ai envoyé un courriel d'une ligne qui dit simplement: "Comment puis-je résister à un homme en kilt?" et la conversation a commencée .
En ce moment.
Et les quelques derniers mois ont été enivrant, déroutant, délicieux, de suspense, de tension, d'humour, amusement, aventure, et étonnant. Il est intelligent, charmant, courtois, chevaleresque, ringard, créatif, drôle, attentionné, social, généreux, sympathique, honnête, aventureux, unique, humain, nostalgique, futuriste, confiant, et envoûtante. Mes joues sont douloureux de sourire. Je suis tombé - et je ne veux pas me lever.
Donc .... après avoir été désigné comme le 'Plus Pointilleux Bitch' pendant tant d'années ..... maintenant on me dit que je suis tombé amoureux trop vite! Il y a des déclarations faites que je dois J'adore la sensation de tomber en amour (sur une note de côté - est-ce que quelqu'un vivant qui n'aime pas la sensation de tomber dans l'amour) que je suis comme une écolière idiot qui se déplace trop vite.
Il m'a frappé comme une culture, nous sommes terriblement difficile à satisfaire. Quand quelqu'un n'est pas dans une relation, les gens disent qu'ils doivent être ouverts à trouver l'amour. Ils devraient sortir plus, rendez-vous en ligne, répondre à leur chiropraticien, utiliser un entremetteur, accident de mariages, porter des robes sexy, porter des vêtements moins révélateurs, habiller, habiller le bas, s'attarder dans le département de légumes, prendre des cours de sushi maker, randonnée pédestre/vélo/tricycle, et se promener dans les allées de Home Depot demander de l'aide attrayant, les acheteurs sans bandes de mariage. Hhmm. Toutes les grandes idées. Que faire si je veux juste rester à la maison dans des pantalons de yoga regarder épisode après épisode de "Dr Who"?
Quand nous sommes avec quelqu'un de spécial, les gens disent être prudent, ne bougez pas trop rapide, trop lent, exécuter une vérification des antécédents, de garder vos options ouvertes, vous devriez être exclusif maintenant, se rend pas trop, pas trop disponible, ne pas jouer trop difficile à obtenir en premier lieu, ne texte pas trop, ils devraient vous rencontrer des amis, il est trop tôt pour rencontrer des amis, avez-vous voyagé ensemble encore? Est-ce un rebond? Est-ce grave? Est-ce juste une phase? Toutes les grandes questions et suggestions. Que faire si je veux juste que personne ce jour-là et voir ce qui se passe?
Oui, vous pourriez vous blesser à nouveau par quelqu'un d'autre. Et pourtant, n'est-il pas pénible de passer un autre jour férié seul? Il ya des avantages et des inconvénients à chaque situation.
Voici ce que j'ai appris. Il n'ya pas de carte de recette parfaite pour une relation fructueuse en ce qui concerne le temps. Je connais un vrai couple marié que de l'autre un mois après leur rencontre et ils ont été heureux ensemble pendant plus de vingt ans. Je connais un couple qui était ensemble depuis 11 ans, alors ils se sont mariés et ont divorcé dans l'année. Amèrement. Je connais des gens qui ont juré off datant pour une certaine période de temps après une rupture, et ils avaient encore leur cœur est brisé à nouveau avec la relation suivante. Je connais un couple qui savait chaque autre comme des amis de plus de six ans sans jamais donner l'autre une seconde pensée romantique jusqu'a un an sur le 4 Juillet quand ils ont vu l'autre dans une toute nouvelle lumière au dessous les feux d'artifice. Ils sont mariés avec un bébé maintenant. Il est juste sans rime ni raison de dicter comment et quand nous pourrions rencontrer la personne de spécial avec qui nous pourrions construire un avenir.
Pour citer John Hughes dans 'Jour de Ferris Bueller', "Ouais. Je l'ai déjà dit et je le répète. Vie passe vite. Si vous ne vous arrêtez pas et regardez autour de temps en temps, vous pourriez manquer".
Sauter à pieds ....
Donc, pour le mois passé, j'ai courageusement enduré les railleries, les moqueries taquine, les sourcils levés, les conseils non sollicités, les chortles, les yeux révulsés et les hochements de tête comme des amis ont découvert que j'ai eu l'audace de tomber en amour. Encore une fois.
J'ai eu la sagesse de minimiser les explications ou tout moyen de défense.
A partir des années 2005 jusqu'en 2011, j'avais gagné (à juste titre , à bien des égards) le titre peu enviable de 'pointilleux Bitch' de notre troupeau de copines. Ma liste de 'disqualifiers automatiques' a été longue, détaillée, et immuable. C'était assez épique .... causant certaines femmes m'invitent à parler à leurs jeunes sœurs et les filles de l'adolescence, le partage des listes soigneusement abattus et le raisonnement derrière chaque élément.
Ensuite, le puissant tombé comme je l'ai été recueillie par un criminel lisse. Un escroc brillante qui a eu un plaisir particulier à tromper quelqu'un d'aussi prudent, en incitant quelqu'un avec un tel mur construit pour protéger sa 'forte sur-extérieur-aspect-encore-si-délicat-l'intérieur' de coeur. Il devait avoir un sens comme de la réalisation de frapper celui-ci plus (j'étais sur 6 dans la ligne. Oh bien - Content d'avoir pensé à elle rapidement et échappé indemne.)
Et c'est ainsi qu'a commencé l'autopsie d'amis et de famille, à essayer de comprendre comment cela s'était passé. Qu'est-ce qui n'allait pas avec moi? Comment avais-je laisser cela se produire? J'étais le plus fort qu'ils sont venus en essayant de décider si oui ou non d'aller sur une deuxième date! Si l'on pouvait m'arriver ....... à qui d'autre pourrait-il se passer? Je dois avoir agi trop vite. Longue distance ne vous permet pas de faire connaissance avec quelqu'un de vraiment bien. Nous aurions vécu ensemble/été engagé plus/pas vécu ensemble.
Que puis-je dire? C'est arrivé. J'ai pensé à elle. Je suis passé par le chagrin de se rendre compte que j'avais fait une décision de vie basée sur non seulement un mensonge ... mais beaucoup des mensonges. J'ai dû lâcher du rêve que j'avais tenu si cher de trouver celui, mon partenaire, celui qui chantait pour moi, celui qui ferait mon coeur chanter. J'ai récupérée.
Que vais-je faire? Pleurer tous les jours? Bien sûr, ce n'est pas ce que je ferais. Je n'ai pas été mis sur cette terre pour vivre dans un ressassement continuel de déception, la tristesse et la négativité. Je n'ai pas gagné le surnom de 'Weeble' par se vautrer dans la misère pour toute longueur de temps.
Ma famille était triste. Ma maman a proclamé que j'étais "pas le droit de parler aux garçons". Ma sœur m'a dit que je n'étais pas autorisé à jamais se remarier. Mon frère a dit qu'il m'avait connu toute ma vie, et que je suis très heureux quand je suis seul (il a un point là. Je suis heureux de presque tous les jours au dessus du sol, je suppose que je suis juste chanceux de cette façon). C'était assez agréable de voir comment beaucoup de gens m'aimaient et voulaient me protéger du mal et la douleur. (Je suppose que je suis juste chanceux que trop.)
L'essentiel pour moi est que j'ai décidé que la dernière relation a été une erreur de casting. Le rôle - le rôle principal masculin dans ma vie - était encore un grand rôle qui devait être rempli! Le défaut n'était pas avec mon désir et mon rêve - la faille était dans le caractère embauché pour le poste. Je me suis réveillé en Septembre prêt à commencer une nouvelle recherche.
J'ai pris un peu de temps. Je n'ai même pas fait mon profil de match.com jusqu'à ce que le début d'Octobre. Même alors, je n'ai pas payé pour un abonnement jusqu'à l'Halloween. Puis, je me suis réveillé et j'ai décidé qu'il était temps de vous abonner, tendre la main, et de voir qui pourrait être à la recherche d' une vie comme celle que je cherchais à créer. J'ai signé pour six mois ... Je ne pense pas que je m'attendais à rencontrer quelqu'un qui change la vie cette semaine, ou même ce jour-là .
Qu'est-ce que dire quand les gens font des plans, Dieu rit? Ce jour-là , dans l'un des cinq premiers profils que j'ai examinés, j'ai vu a grand, beau, la science-fiction, l'âge approprié (si il ne mentait pas) locale, avec succès, d'articuler, l'amant de la musique des années 80, l'homme irlandaise et américaine portait un kilt. Disons que pour un moment, je pensais que je rêvais, et que j'avais évoquée un profil parfait d'un homme. Je pensais que j'avais une sorte d'hallucination provoquée par tant d'années de recherche et d'attente. De ce que je me rappelle, j'ai envoyé un courriel d'une ligne qui dit simplement: "Comment puis-je résister à un homme en kilt?" et la conversation a commencée .
En ce moment.
Et les quelques derniers mois ont été enivrant, déroutant, délicieux, de suspense, de tension, d'humour, amusement, aventure, et étonnant. Il est intelligent, charmant, courtois, chevaleresque, ringard, créatif, drôle, attentionné, social, généreux, sympathique, honnête, aventureux, unique, humain, nostalgique, futuriste, confiant, et envoûtante. Mes joues sont douloureux de sourire. Je suis tombé - et je ne veux pas me lever.
Donc .... après avoir été désigné comme le 'Plus Pointilleux Bitch' pendant tant d'années ..... maintenant on me dit que je suis tombé amoureux trop vite! Il y a des déclarations faites que je dois J'adore la sensation de tomber en amour (sur une note de côté - est-ce que quelqu'un vivant qui n'aime pas la sensation de tomber dans l'amour) que je suis comme une écolière idiot qui se déplace trop vite.
Il m'a frappé comme une culture, nous sommes terriblement difficile à satisfaire. Quand quelqu'un n'est pas dans une relation, les gens disent qu'ils doivent être ouverts à trouver l'amour. Ils devraient sortir plus, rendez-vous en ligne, répondre à leur chiropraticien, utiliser un entremetteur, accident de mariages, porter des robes sexy, porter des vêtements moins révélateurs, habiller, habiller le bas, s'attarder dans le département de légumes, prendre des cours de sushi maker, randonnée pédestre/vélo/tricycle, et se promener dans les allées de Home Depot demander de l'aide attrayant, les acheteurs sans bandes de mariage. Hhmm. Toutes les grandes idées. Que faire si je veux juste rester à la maison dans des pantalons de yoga regarder épisode après épisode de "Dr Who"?
Quand nous sommes avec quelqu'un de spécial, les gens disent être prudent, ne bougez pas trop rapide, trop lent, exécuter une vérification des antécédents, de garder vos options ouvertes, vous devriez être exclusif maintenant, se rend pas trop, pas trop disponible, ne pas jouer trop difficile à obtenir en premier lieu, ne texte pas trop, ils devraient vous rencontrer des amis, il est trop tôt pour rencontrer des amis, avez-vous voyagé ensemble encore? Est-ce un rebond? Est-ce grave? Est-ce juste une phase? Toutes les grandes questions et suggestions. Que faire si je veux juste que personne ce jour-là et voir ce qui se passe?
Oui, vous pourriez vous blesser à nouveau par quelqu'un d'autre. Et pourtant, n'est-il pas pénible de passer un autre jour férié seul? Il ya des avantages et des inconvénients à chaque situation.
Voici ce que j'ai appris. Il n'ya pas de carte de recette parfaite pour une relation fructueuse en ce qui concerne le temps. Je connais un vrai couple marié que de l'autre un mois après leur rencontre et ils ont été heureux ensemble pendant plus de vingt ans. Je connais un couple qui était ensemble depuis 11 ans, alors ils se sont mariés et ont divorcé dans l'année. Amèrement. Je connais des gens qui ont juré off datant pour une certaine période de temps après une rupture, et ils avaient encore leur cœur est brisé à nouveau avec la relation suivante. Je connais un couple qui savait chaque autre comme des amis de plus de six ans sans jamais donner l'autre une seconde pensée romantique jusqu'a un an sur le 4 Juillet quand ils ont vu l'autre dans une toute nouvelle lumière au dessous les feux d'artifice. Ils sont mariés avec un bébé maintenant. Il est juste sans rime ni raison de dicter comment et quand nous pourrions rencontrer la personne de spécial avec qui nous pourrions construire un avenir.
Pour citer John Hughes dans 'Jour de Ferris Bueller', "Ouais. Je l'ai déjà dit et je le répète. Vie passe vite. Si vous ne vous arrêtez pas et regardez autour de temps en temps, vous pourriez manquer".
Sauter à pieds ....
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Guess who has fallen....and doesn't want to get up?
That is right. It is me.
So, for the past month, I have bravely endured the taunts, the teases, the jibes, the raised brows, the unsolicited advice, the chortles, the rolled eyes, and the shaking heads as friends have discovered that I have had the audacity to fall in love. Again.
I have had the sense to minimize any explanations or any defense.
From the years 2005 through 2011, I had earned (rightfully so, in many respects) the dubious title of "Pickiest Rhymes-with-Witch" out of our gaggle of girlfriends. My list of "Automatic Disqualifiers" was long, detailed, and immutable. It was fairly epic....causing some women to invite me to speak to their younger sisters and teen daughters, sharing the carefully culled lists and the reasoning behind each item.
Then, the mighty fell as I was taken in by a smooth criminal. A brilliant con artist that took special delight in deceiving someone so careful, in tricking someone with such a wall built up to protect her strong-on-outward-appearance-yet-so-delicate-inside heart. He must have had a such a sense of achievement to knock this one over (I was about 6th in the line. Oh well - glad I figured it out quickly and escaped unscathed.)
And so began the post-mortem of friends and family, trying to figure out how it had happened. What was wrong with me? How had I let this happen? I was the strong one that they came to when trying to decide whether or not to go on a second date! If it could happen to me.......to whom else could it happen? I must have acted too fast. Long distance doesn't let you get to know someone really well. We should have lived together/been engaged longer/not lived together.
What can I say? It happened. I figured it out. I went through the heartbreak of realizing that I had made a life decision based on not just one lie...but so many. I had to let go of the dream that I had held so dear of finding the one, my partner, the one who would sing to me, the one that would make my heart sing. I got over it.
What am I going to do? Cry everyday? Most assuredly, I would not. I was not put on this earth to live in a continual rehashing of disappointment, sorrow, and negativity. I did not earn the nickname "the Weeble" by wallowing in misery for any length of time.
My family was sad. My Mom proclaimed that I was "not allowed to talk to boys". My sister said that I was not allowed to ever get married again. My brother said that he had known me my entire life, and that I am pretty happy when I am alone (he has a point there - I am happy nearly everyday above ground. I guess I am just lucky that way). It was pretty nice to see how many people loved me and wanted to protect me from hurt and pain. (I guess I am just lucky that way too.)
The bottom line for me is that I decided that the last relationship was a casting error. The role - the male lead role in my life - was still a great role that needed to be filled! The flaw was not with my desire and my dream - the flaw was in the character hired for the job. I woke up in September ready to beginning scouting again.
I did take some time. I didn't even make my match.com profile until the beginning of October. Even then, I did not pay for a membership until Halloween. Then, I woke up and decided it was time to subscribe, reach out, and see who might be looking for a life like the one I was looking to create. I signed up for 6 months...I don't think that I expected to meet someone life-altering that week, or even that very day.
What is that saying about when people make plans,God laughs? That day, in one of the first five profiles I reviewed, I saw a tall, cute, science fiction loving, age appropriate (if he wasn't fibbing), local, employed, articulate, 80's music adoring, Irish & American man with an additional picture wearing a kilt. Let's just say for a moment, I thought I was daydreaming, and that I had conjured up a perfect profile of a man. I thought maybe I was having some sort of hallucination brought on by so many years of searching and waiting. From what I recollect, I sent a one-line email that simply said, "How can I resist a man in a kilt?" and the conversation began.
In that moment.
And the past few months have been intoxicating, unnerving, delightful, suspenseful, tense, humorous, fun, adventurous, and amazing. He is intelligent, charming, gracious, chivalrous, nerdy, creative, funny, attentive, social, generous, friendly, honest, adventurous, unique, human, nostalgic, futuristic, confident, and mesmerizing. My cheeks are sore from smiling. I have fallen - and I do not want to get up.
SO....after being designated as the "Pickiest Rhymes-With-Witch" for so many years.....now I am being told that I fall in love too fast! There are assertions being made that I must just love the feeling of falling in love (on a side note - who doesn't?) That I am like a silly schoolgirl that moves too fast.
It has struck me that as a culture, we are awfully difficult to please. When someone is single, people will say they should open themselves up to finding love. They should go out more, go online, meet their chiropractor, use a matchmaker, crash weddings, wear lower cut blouses, wear less revealing clothes, dress up, dress down, linger in the vegetable department, take sushi making classes, hike/bike/trike, and wander the aisles of Home Depot asking for help from attractive, ringless shoppers. Hhmm. All great ideas. What if I just want to stay home in yoga pants watching "Hoarder" marathons?
When we are with someone, people say be careful, don't move too fast, it's moving too slow, run a background check, keep your options open, you should be exclusive by now, don't call too much, don't be too available, don't play too hard to get, don't text first, they should meet you friends, it is too soon to meet your friends, have you travelled together yet? Is this a rebound? Is this serious? Is this just a phase? All great suggestions and questions. What if I just want to date this person and see what happens?
Yes, you might get hurt. And yet, doesn't it hurt to spend another holiday alone? There are pros and cons to each situation.
Here is what I have learned. There is no perfect recipe card for a successful relationship in regards to time. I know a real couple that married each other a month after they met and they have been together happily for over twenty years. I know a couple that was together for 11 years, then they married and divorced within a year. Bitterly. I know people that have "sworn off" dating for a certain period of time after a break up, and they still had their heart's broken again with the next relationship. I know a couple that knew each other as friends for over six years without ever giving each other a second thought romantically until one year on the 4th of July when they saw each other in a whole new light under the fireworks. They are married with a baby now. There is just no rhyme or reason to dictate how or when we might meet the special person with whom we could build a future.
To quote John Hughes in 'Ferris Bueller's Day Off', "Yep. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you might miss it."
Jumping in with both feet....
So, for the past month, I have bravely endured the taunts, the teases, the jibes, the raised brows, the unsolicited advice, the chortles, the rolled eyes, and the shaking heads as friends have discovered that I have had the audacity to fall in love. Again.
I have had the sense to minimize any explanations or any defense.
From the years 2005 through 2011, I had earned (rightfully so, in many respects) the dubious title of "Pickiest Rhymes-with-Witch" out of our gaggle of girlfriends. My list of "Automatic Disqualifiers" was long, detailed, and immutable. It was fairly epic....causing some women to invite me to speak to their younger sisters and teen daughters, sharing the carefully culled lists and the reasoning behind each item.
Then, the mighty fell as I was taken in by a smooth criminal. A brilliant con artist that took special delight in deceiving someone so careful, in tricking someone with such a wall built up to protect her strong-on-outward-appearance-yet-so-delicate-inside heart. He must have had a such a sense of achievement to knock this one over (I was about 6th in the line. Oh well - glad I figured it out quickly and escaped unscathed.)
And so began the post-mortem of friends and family, trying to figure out how it had happened. What was wrong with me? How had I let this happen? I was the strong one that they came to when trying to decide whether or not to go on a second date! If it could happen to me.......to whom else could it happen? I must have acted too fast. Long distance doesn't let you get to know someone really well. We should have lived together/been engaged longer/not lived together.
What can I say? It happened. I figured it out. I went through the heartbreak of realizing that I had made a life decision based on not just one lie...but so many. I had to let go of the dream that I had held so dear of finding the one, my partner, the one who would sing to me, the one that would make my heart sing. I got over it.
What am I going to do? Cry everyday? Most assuredly, I would not. I was not put on this earth to live in a continual rehashing of disappointment, sorrow, and negativity. I did not earn the nickname "the Weeble" by wallowing in misery for any length of time.
My family was sad. My Mom proclaimed that I was "not allowed to talk to boys". My sister said that I was not allowed to ever get married again. My brother said that he had known me my entire life, and that I am pretty happy when I am alone (he has a point there - I am happy nearly everyday above ground. I guess I am just lucky that way). It was pretty nice to see how many people loved me and wanted to protect me from hurt and pain. (I guess I am just lucky that way too.)
The bottom line for me is that I decided that the last relationship was a casting error. The role - the male lead role in my life - was still a great role that needed to be filled! The flaw was not with my desire and my dream - the flaw was in the character hired for the job. I woke up in September ready to beginning scouting again.
I did take some time. I didn't even make my match.com profile until the beginning of October. Even then, I did not pay for a membership until Halloween. Then, I woke up and decided it was time to subscribe, reach out, and see who might be looking for a life like the one I was looking to create. I signed up for 6 months...I don't think that I expected to meet someone life-altering that week, or even that very day.
What is that saying about when people make plans,God laughs? That day, in one of the first five profiles I reviewed, I saw a tall, cute, science fiction loving, age appropriate (if he wasn't fibbing), local, employed, articulate, 80's music adoring, Irish & American man with an additional picture wearing a kilt. Let's just say for a moment, I thought I was daydreaming, and that I had conjured up a perfect profile of a man. I thought maybe I was having some sort of hallucination brought on by so many years of searching and waiting. From what I recollect, I sent a one-line email that simply said, "How can I resist a man in a kilt?" and the conversation began.
In that moment.
And the past few months have been intoxicating, unnerving, delightful, suspenseful, tense, humorous, fun, adventurous, and amazing. He is intelligent, charming, gracious, chivalrous, nerdy, creative, funny, attentive, social, generous, friendly, honest, adventurous, unique, human, nostalgic, futuristic, confident, and mesmerizing. My cheeks are sore from smiling. I have fallen - and I do not want to get up.
SO....after being designated as the "Pickiest Rhymes-With-Witch" for so many years.....now I am being told that I fall in love too fast! There are assertions being made that I must just love the feeling of falling in love (on a side note - who doesn't?) That I am like a silly schoolgirl that moves too fast.
It has struck me that as a culture, we are awfully difficult to please. When someone is single, people will say they should open themselves up to finding love. They should go out more, go online, meet their chiropractor, use a matchmaker, crash weddings, wear lower cut blouses, wear less revealing clothes, dress up, dress down, linger in the vegetable department, take sushi making classes, hike/bike/trike, and wander the aisles of Home Depot asking for help from attractive, ringless shoppers. Hhmm. All great ideas. What if I just want to stay home in yoga pants watching "Hoarder" marathons?
When we are with someone, people say be careful, don't move too fast, it's moving too slow, run a background check, keep your options open, you should be exclusive by now, don't call too much, don't be too available, don't play too hard to get, don't text first, they should meet you friends, it is too soon to meet your friends, have you travelled together yet? Is this a rebound? Is this serious? Is this just a phase? All great suggestions and questions. What if I just want to date this person and see what happens?
Yes, you might get hurt. And yet, doesn't it hurt to spend another holiday alone? There are pros and cons to each situation.
Here is what I have learned. There is no perfect recipe card for a successful relationship in regards to time. I know a real couple that married each other a month after they met and they have been together happily for over twenty years. I know a couple that was together for 11 years, then they married and divorced within a year. Bitterly. I know people that have "sworn off" dating for a certain period of time after a break up, and they still had their heart's broken again with the next relationship. I know a couple that knew each other as friends for over six years without ever giving each other a second thought romantically until one year on the 4th of July when they saw each other in a whole new light under the fireworks. They are married with a baby now. There is just no rhyme or reason to dictate how or when we might meet the special person with whom we could build a future.
To quote John Hughes in 'Ferris Bueller's Day Off', "Yep. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you might miss it."
Jumping in with both feet....
Thursday, November 7, 2013
National Novel Writing Month has begun - (excerpt included)
"What was that? Confetti caught in her bangs? She reached up and swatted it away with a sigh. Beige confetti. Who has beige confetti? According to her sister-in-law, Susan, (perfect Susan), it fit in with the "Charlie and Lola" theme for Nora's party. And apparently, Nora, the 12 month old, would notice if the confetti did not match the theme. Susan had actually created the confetti herself using a three hole punch and who knows how many sheets of ecru scrapbooking paper. In fact, she had spent the last 6 weeks going on about the party plans, handmaking the three-dimensional invitations (with an enclosed menu card no less), laboring over the background music, and the schedule of events for the big day. No joke - she actually went candle shopping so that the party would have "the perfect scent to celebrate Nora's birth". Mallory had stopped to type that quote to herself on the phone as she felt she had never - and would never again - hear anything so ridiculous.
Mallory scanned the room full of happy faces, people huddled in quiet conversation near the fire. ("Thank goodness Nora was born in a cold month so we can always have the warmth and ambience created by a fire at her parties!") Five men, having lost their awkwardness after the first half hour were standing by the dining table, drinking Guinness, and laughing with abandon. Susan was fretting in the dining room, demanding perfection from the catering staff, adjusting the hors d'oeuvres on the tray before setting the server free to roam the house, feeding the hungry and the bored. It was a sight to take in. Funny how Mallory could feel so alone when surrounded by family and friends. She chuckled under her breath that this house was full of people she was related too and people she had coincidentally known for most of her life. Her real family, and her real friends, were back home in California.
Then her eyes fell upon Nora......and she said to herself, "except for you little one, you are my family". Nora was being held by her au pair, Tassi, giggling at some other cousin (Jake? Jack? honestly, Mallory couldn't remember) playing the game of peek-a-boo and causing waves of laughter from Nora. Mallory knew, even though the baby was so young, that they had a special connection. A connection that would probably trouble her Mother to no end as she grew. A bond that her brother would ignore (he liked to say that he possessed "big picture vision" when really he was just self absorbed and used that as an excuse for ignoring the delicacies of life, the nuances, the glances, the ladybugs on the windowpane that make life unique, and special, and different).
She went over to Tassi, and without a word, Nora looked at her aunt and smiled a huge, gummy smile. Mallory took her into her arms, and felt a peace that made everything else fade into the background."
That is a brief excerpt from the novel that I am writing for National Writing Month! It may not be great - I do not have time to edit as I go as I have to hit 50,000 words written on the novel no later than November 30. However, it is awfully fun, and I am enjoying creating characters and worlds and scenarios. So much better than tv for me.
This Saturday, I will be working on the book from 9:00 a.m. until 6:00 p.m. THAT will be fun.
Anyway - not much of a blog post, but there you have it.
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