My Man Queu

I have more than one man in my life. It sounds really egotistical to say that they are waiting in a line just for a chance with a confused and contradictory (not to mention chronically sleep-deprived) woman like me. Nevertheless, that is how it feels. I like to complain that it adds a bunch of stress to my life (ego stats going through the roof), but most of the time I secretly like it. It sure beats not being able to find a living breathing man within 2000 miles who seems willing to look at me for more than 2 or 3 hurried seconds. It beats the 14-month dry period I had a few years ago during which my boredom actually caused me to eat enough late-night starch to gain a few pounds (a feat equal to my winning a Nobel prize in mathematics).

Anyway, I've noticed that my blog posts have been rather dry lately, so I've decided to relinquish the sordid details of my dysfunctional love life. After all, what more do people want to read about than the train-wreck accounts of other people's lives? This post may also be prompted by the addition of a new especially unfortunate member of the club today. I may give each doomed sweetheart his own post.

Oh, and since I'm really frightened that someone will pinpoint my true identity and ruin my ability to be increasingly honest here, I'm going to give these lovely gentlemen some nicknames. Todd, Moe, Bob, Poe, Joe, and Nick. I love short names.

Todd

Todd is actually my ex-boyfriend. I met him 4 years and 1 month ago on a blind date set up by enthusiastic friends (so enthusiastic that one of them was really peeved that I actually liked the guy since she secretly wanted him for herself). We dated for a few months before I graduated from college and we both took off to explore the world. Somehow, though, we couldn't make a clean break and ended up getting in touch again, which led to lengthy international phone calls, which led to e-mail and packages, which led to an extremely romantic gesture involving flowers and such in which he asked me to be his once again. I was ecstatic. I was in love. I had stars in my vulnerable eyes.

Two weeks later, he waffled, freaked out, and ended it. I thought my life would also end with those ugly words, as I had completely tossed my heart into his hands, had been waking up every morning for weeks dreaming of our wedding day, his "will you marry me" and the blissful ever-after... I considered running far away, but since I was already in a foreign country, I figured I had already done all the running I could really do. A couple of months later when I returned home, he had begun to rethink his decision and.... I won't bore you with what is essentially the same story told over and over again, with a few other women sprinkled about. Suffice it to say that Todd and I have had a very troubled and tumultuous history together.

Last December, when we broke up for the 1,245th time, I finally said "Enough!" For three years, Todd had been telling me that he "just wasn't sure", could never decide for damn certain if he wanted me or Suzy Q. over the way. And I put up with it. Because I'm so unhealthily invested in everything until it meets the most bitter end possible, I put up with it. I waited. I wanted. And I hurt. Some of my most painful moments (ok, more like months or years) occurred during this waiting period. When I finally moved on and began to date others and ACTUALLY give them a chance, I felt lighter, more free than I had since, well, meeting Todd. Giving up on my relationship with him not only positively changed what I wanted but who I was.

So when he told me a couple of months ago that he had finally made up his mind, he was in love with me, I was the one (he always knew, but was just terrified), he wanted to grow old with me, all the things I'd always wanted him to say, it blew my mind. I told him no way. He'd waited too long and it was too late! Unfortunately, he was ready to back up his words. He wanted to prove himself and he's done a damn good job of it. Also, I've discovered that I like gifts a lot more than I thought. And Todd is a gift-giver. Not to mention a time-giver, compliment-giver, massage-giver, poem-writer, dishwasher, fantastic kisser.... I've woken up with Todd in my bed at least 4 times during the past month (There would have been a few more times if I hadn't callously kicked him out of my bed predawn- like this morning, for example, when I demanded that he go home at 4am. Fortunately, he is a sweetheart who understands the way in which hormone switches can turn a sweet angel into a mean bitch) and each time I vigorously chastise myself for giving in to his amazing touch, for complicating life when I'm supposed to know what I want. But the truth is that I don't. The truth is that I'm completely confused. I'm terrified of dragging him along while I muddle through my thoughts on life, as he did to me, but I'm discovering that I'm not the saint that I thought/hoped I was, not when I could be idolized and spoiled for free. In fact, Todd is spending a few days at my parents' house for Christmas...

I really feel that Todd is wasting his time, and I probably restate my feelings on the matter to him more often than is really necessary (honestly, sometimes people would like to enjoy being in love without the preaching of impending doom), but I do it to soothe my own guilty conscience. How nice of me.

Built-in Accessories

My body is not a self-contained entity able to provide everything it needs (i.e. does not manufacture chocolate when I have a bad day), but sometimes it does provide me with convenient substitutes. I have a lot of curly curly hair and I often use it as a towel to dry my hands, like when I'm in a strange bathroom with no paper towel. It works really well for the drying part and actually makes my hair look better. If I'm in the shower without a bath poof or sponge or what-have-you, I will use my hair (you know, the hair down there) to suds up. Works great! Dry contacts and no eye drops in sight? No worries; I use spit!

Rain Turtle

I rushed out my front door this morning, late as usual, and found that the sky was spitting great drops of rain. It was raining and I was biking because, also as usual, my stupid car wasn't working. I wasn't happy to see the rain, not happy at all. I don't have far to bike to work- only a couple of blocks- but who wants to get soaked on a bike when it's cold outside? I should have some kind of Rain Jacket or even a dreaded poncho like the one my mom used to make me wear as a kid. Unfortunately, all I had that I thought would protect me and my bag was a long, knitted sweater, which I put on over the rest of my clothes, bag and all. I looked something like this:








...like a knitted turtle. People stared, my jeans got wet.... but my top stayed dry!

Poor in Spirit?

"Nothing kills the spirit," her father says with pointed gaze, "like poverty". And young Jane Austen is left alone leaning against the pig pen to contemplate these words of wisdom. Or are they? Does poverty kill spirit? Is spirit dependent on riches? Does one need wealth to love life? I recently told a friend (who also felt the same) that I would much rather be happy than rich. Please tell me that the two are not dependent on each other?! In fact, the thing I have most lately heard is that they are closer to being mutually exclusive. Another friend, on the other hand, saw his parents barely scrape by all his life and wants to avoid doing the same at all costs. Does growing up poor change your perspective that much? Does it change your priorities? I used to think the people who grew up wealthy put a higher emphasis on money and possessions, but could it be the other way around?

[I really like this movie, by the way, though I'm only halfway through it :D]



An article published a year ago in Newsweek claims to have the answer. "Why Money Doesn't Buy Happiness" explains that while more moolah can make you a lot happier when it takes you from rummaging in trash barrels and borrowing clothes from beggars to living the average middle-class lifestyle, there isn't much of an increase at all when you go from average joe to filthy rich! In fact, an overabundance of wealth may have certain disadvantages as you begin to worry that you'll lose your fortune or that you'll be appreciated only for such and you start to be suspicious, greedy, depressed...

Hmmmm. I might stick to my original statement, although chinning above poverty level would be nice.

Across the Universe

Across the Universe
It's a musical slash romance slash vietnam war era tribute. And it's probably the strangest movie I have ever seen, backed by my roommate who said, "Yep, it's official; it's the oddest movie I've ever seen." Well, that was one of my roommates. The other is pretty much in love with the movie and probably wonders in complete perplexity why we think it's so strange. I wouldn't have labeled the movie with the superlative "oddest" if it had stopped at the singing, jumping from character to character, and switching from one geography to another, introducing new characters throughout the movie. I couldn't help myself, though, when the psychedelic colors and fantasy characters started to appear. I truly enjoyed the first part of the movie and, yes, some parts throughout, but it was..... WEIRD! I've begun to put all kinds of stuff into my Netflix queue, and this was by far the strangest so far. But if you like out-of-the-ordinary, Across the Universe
may be just your thing.

My other discovery today came from Stumble Upon, which I just tried for the first time today. It's similar to Pandora, a site I've been in love with since last summer. This one is Musicovery and it apparently allows you to choose your mood. It then picks music for you. Pretty ingenious. It does seem to slow my internet browsing a little at times, though, something Pandora also tends to do. It's usually just the speed by which I can move from tab to tab in Firefox, though.

Mad at Myself

I'm extremely frustrated with myself today because I A: stayed up until 2:30am last night and B: slept in until 11:15am this morning. I'm not very good at sticking to a self-motivation schedule. Sooooooo frustrating! What can I do to make myself both go to bed on time and get up much earlier? I keep wasting my mornings, not eating a good breakfast, and at night I'm usually not doing anything terribly productive......

Role Reversal

He leans in to kiss me.... and I turn away. It is the point I never thought I'd be at, the day I never thought possible- and it is happening. My ex-boyfriend (no, not the man I've been sobbing over but another, less recent heartbreak) is back. Well, he's been back for weeks, months even, but now he's really back. Telling me he's hopelessly in love with me and caressing my cheek. Singing my praises and looking at me like that. Doing my dishes, taking me to dinner, bringing me gifts.....

And I turn away from his kiss. Something has changed inside me and I'm not sure I can ever go back, that I ever want to go back. There was a time when I wanted nothing more than to have this man hold me in his arms and say those three beautiful words, the words that embodied everything I felt for him at the time. But now, now that it's actually happening, I have this awful feeling of too late. He should have done this two years ago, a year ago even, and I would have kissed him back with all of the passion I felt inside at the time. Now I feel only a certain strong sense of affection for him, an entwining attraction, even, but none of the unadulterated love that once existed inside me. I can't think of marrying him and feel happy. I can't think of spending my life by his side and feel content. What changed?

I tend to be an all-or-nothing person. I want to make decisions, to have things decided, and usually if I think I have an adequate amount of information I get the decision made and am satisfied with it. I need to use all of the available information, however, and my decision needs to make sense in accordance with this information. When I wanted to marry this man (and I did, very much), the decision made so much sense with the information I had so far obtained (i.e. from dating several guys to see what I liked and knowing that he and I had what it took to make it work and be happy). When I "moved on" however, I had to tell myself that he was NOT right for me, that there was definitely someone else for me. And then I set about gathering extra information which showed me that this was indeed true. I met someone else that- oh- he made me feel like I'd never felt before! (Hence previous posts moaning his unfortunate absence) and now I suddenly have some new, extra information and my decision must change.

It's not easy look someone in the eye, someone you really care about, and tell them you don't love them. In fact, it can break you heart. What can I do when the tears roll down his face? When I can almost see his heart breaking inside his chest?

It's hard for me to turn my back on love, even if I don't feel it the same way. Being loved is something I've learned not to take for granted and a large part of me is afraid that I will never find this kind of love from someone again. I want to believe that I will find it and that I will feel the same way, but because of so much past experience which speaks to the contrary, I have a very difficult time believing it to be so.

The other day I found some poetry that I wrote when my heart was broken over this man. I thought it to be some lame writing at the time, but looking back over it, I realize that it was deep and gripping, really speaking to the way my heart was being twisted and torn.

Nothing makes sense to me,
Nothing can calm
For more than a moment,
A heartbeat of psalm.
The past is all messy,
The future is dark,
Lonely and frustrated,
Bruised up and marked.
Why did I not say
Or do this or that?
Thoughts of it all just
Consume every act.
Needing but not
Knowing what can fulfill
This ache is unbearable,
Yet defining and real.
Embracing the pain
And drinking my tears
Is thimbles of solace
To deep-reaching fears.


Hot, torrid, rushing through me,
Floods of emotion all but consume me.
Wrenching, cracking at my heart,
Every memory plays its part.
So alone I feel at night.
Nothing, not one part seems right.
Frustration grips me in its vice.
Jealous fingers rip like ice.
Mired in turmoil, stuck in space,
Empty of peace, dark of face.
Abandonment, betrayal, anger and pain
It's never over and always the same.
I feel stripped of power to own my life,
Robbed of the dream of being a wife
I'd rather explode all over the place
Than shrink to a ball with tears on my face.
For one good break, for one glad moment
Where is love; I wonder where joy went.
Don't keep me waiting; don't give me hope.
Your unsure heart's like a noose in rope.
Anger, explosive, simmering, hot
I feel like a prisoner; I feel trapped and caught.
Why can't you free me; why can't I go?
That I'm at your mercy is all that I know.