The Return of B and the rest of my weekend

Apparently, not talking to someone for 2 months, and replying briefly to their emails is not enough to give the hint that I don't really want to talk.

I got to the bookstore a little early today, and the owner, H, was here (he owed me a check). While we were catching up, B came into the store. H knows him, knows the situation (I have worked here nearly two years, and was customer for a year prior), and so said Hey to B before I saw him, as a warning. And, bless H, stayed around the whole time, just in case. At one point, he even gave me an eyebrow question (no words) as to whether to leave or stay, and I signaled him back to stay, please.

B, on my recommendation months prior, had traded in a bunch of books and books on tape that I had given him for credit at the bookstore. He (supposedly) came in to pick up a book today, and to see how I was doing, etc. I chatted politely, explained why I hadn't been talking to him ("you call me a bitch, and that pretty much does it for me.") We caught up on family, his and mine, and our friends a little bit. K, the friend who unjustifiably flipped out on me in March, is currently in Florida with her father, who is being treated for prostate cancer. (please pray for him). B tried to open the door to chatting and such again, and I told him it was probably best to stick with email.

Strangely (ironically, Alanis?) enough, I'm wearing a shirt today he hated. It has holes in, though I wear it with a cami, and he hated it because it made me look poor (or something).

B and I had chatted a tiny bit this week via email, and I had explained that I needed the space from everyone and everything to get my life on track. I guess my response was enough for him to think it is okay to drop back into my life. Why won't he understand that we are over, and whatever friendship we had before, we can't go back to it? I mean, we broke up. Then he tried to win me back. Then I tried to get some distance. Then he called me a bitch at a party in front of all our friends. Then I stopped talking to him, completely, and had no interest in spending any time with him again.

I may have posted about this before (I can't remember) but a few weeks ago, I had a flurry of emails come into my work email account of a stormy Friday, all relating to K's husband W's birthday. There was to be some sort of gathering to celebrate, and the specifics were being changed and rescheduled due to the expected rainstorms. They ended up deciding on an (expensive) steak dinner downtown. Due to my inclusion on these emails, I was invited. I mentally debated the whole thing, and decided I really didn't want to go, as I would inevitably be seated next to B (old habits die hard, and it's always couple-couple-couple with that group, even though B and I have been broken up for over 6 months). Also, the unresolved "sneaky and rude" issue with K made me even more uncomfortable and loathe to attend. I had already pretty much decided not to go (after debating whether not going made me an asshole or a bitch) when I got a voicemail message on my phone (which only intermittently works in the bookstore) from B, making sure I knew what was going on, and when and where. After that call, I called my friend T, who was stuck at her radio station with S, ran the situation past her (she of course said I shouldn't go, and still thinks I'm far to nice about the break-up with B), and made arrangements to take Chinese food to her and S at the radio station. And had more fun there with them than I would have at steak dinner with my ex and a friend who flipped on me.

On another, unrelated note, have I mentioned Thursday's kick-ass (kick-abs?) Pilates workout? I went to a class I have never attended before, and ended up being the only student. So, I essentially got a private lesson for the cost of a normal class, which is already a bonus. The person teaching the class is someone I've only had as an instructor once before, and she kicked my ass then. Thursday was no exception... but the beauty of a one-on-one lesson is that I really learned where some of my weaknesses are, and we focused on them. And, damn! Friday my upper abs hurt all day - especially every time I laughed. I wasn't really hungry, and my belly muscles ached all day, but it was a good ache. And they ached all day Saturday. Today, they are okay, but my legs hurt. But that could be from bowling (for the first time in YEARS, probably since I moved here) on Friday night. I have an unconventional bowling style, a bad wrist, and it took me a while to find the right weight ball. As I consequence, I think my highest score in 4 games was 125. I did at least win at bar trivia that night. I still haven't gotten over losing a game of Trivial Pursuit, 90's edition, a few weeks ago.

Also, Friday was a good day, as there were free massages at work. Really. Coolest thing ever. A bunch of massage students were camped out in our conference room, giving free rubs for practice and credit. So, I had two. One before I had finished my work, and one after (as a prize to myself). Between the two people, I got a lot of the tension I store in my neck and shoulders out. It was very relaxing.

Yesterday, I had plans (not plants, or pans, or pants) to go to Oxford, MS for the Double Decker Festival with T and her two girls. But there was heavy rain in the forecast, and so we canceled those plans, and instead went to dinner and a movie (just us grownups) in the evening. We saw the movie "Stick It" and just had a nice time of it.

So, here I am today, at the bookstore and still reeling from B's ambush. It's not accidental he came by today - he knew my work hours and that I would normally be alone at the store. I don't like being put in an uncomfortable situation, and he did that. Arghh!

Today's brush with the famous

So, it's not the best picture... it was taken with a camera phone, and we didn't realize until it was emailed back to me that it is blurrrry...
but, here it is...
me with John Corbett...



hmmm... he looks familiar, you say, but the name doesn't ring any bells.
Aidan from "Sex & The City"
the DJ from "Northern Exposure"
the guy from "My Big Fat Greek Wedding"
the hunky preacher from "Raising Helen"

and, now he is a country recording artist, who has his own band, the John Corbett Band. Who decided to drop by the radio studios for some impromptu interviews. Who was passing through Memphis, and booked a gig that is going on right now.

And, oddly enough, he was super-nice and down-to-earth. Really friendly, smiling, and outgoing. And the stuff he said off-air was even cooler. He's a really big Elvis fan, and a collector of Elvis memorabilia. And, when he left, he gave me the handshake-cheek kiss (on my right cheek). So, I walked around on a cloud a little bit today after that. :)

Even weirder, I got a little crush on his guitarist-producer, Tara Novick (who is a dude, despite the name). While John was talking to the radio hosts I work with, I was chatting with Tara about LA and the scene he used to be a part of. He was cute, and had that Frank Zappa-like dark intensity. And what girl hasn't had a bit of a rocker fantasy, at one point or another?!?

So, that was the surprising coolness of my workday. Rock on!

hormonal imbalances?

So, I recently went off the pill (in February), after being on it, nearly non-stop, since I was 17 1/2 years old. I started my first prescription the first day of college (and hurked up my breakfast on the first day of college, as well). I've only been off it for about 3-6 months when I lived in Eugene, and I had no insurance, and mom couldn't get me freebies. Otherwise, I've been on it for nearly 14 years, my entire adult life.
When I went on it, at 17, it was for a combination of reasons - I had crazy-awful periods when I was a teenager. Every 3rd or 4th month, I'd have the periods that made me lie on the floor and cry, and crawl to the bathroom to vomit. I was on 800 mg of ibuprofren (prescription horse pills) for days. I had severe PMS (which I didn't recognize in myself, but my mom and aunt did) and became a raging biznotch a week before I started. But I was also really short and skinny, and my mom feared putting me on hormones until I was grown enough. My senior year of high school, I believe, I reached my current height of five feet, zero inches (my last doctor's visit they said I was 5 feet, 1/2 inches, but I don't really claim that). Reaching that height was a milestone, as doctors had told my mom and I when I was in 5th or 6th grade that I would be lucky to reach five feet (they x-rayed my hands and skull, and tried to get mom to put me on steroids and HGH shots).
So, the summer between high school and college, mom got me an appointment with an OB-GYN she worked with, and accompanied me to the exam. I was 17, not sexually active, and terrified of college (and the exam). They put me on my first scrip, which was changed after 3 months, because I kept on getting my period (like, 3 times in the first month, which sucked for the first month of college). In 14 years, I've been on maybe 3 different formulations (and their generics). For years, I was on a 1/35 formulation, then moved to a triphasic (7-7-7) to mitigate some of the stronger hormonal reactions, then to another triphasic (tri-cyclen). I liked the effects of the multi-/tri-phasics, but was scared to go on anything less because of the breakthrough bleeding (and the tendencies of women on my mom's side of the family to get pregnant while on various forms of birth control).
I've spent years having my hormones controlled and suppressed, and a combination of factors caused me to go off the pill a few months ago. My 3 month prescription ran out, and due to a clerical screw-up at my office, I didn't have an insurance card. I was out of a relationship, and had no "need" for the pill. And, my mom has been going off about the effects the pill on women and their choice of partners. Since I just got out of a relationship that I maybe didn't make the best choices in, I thought, if I can get all my pheromones working so I make better man choices, that can't be a bad thing. And not having the old back-up of being on the pill can keep things from moving so quickly, too, if/when I'm dating...
So, my last scrip ran out in February. And, I was so caught up in other stuff, I forgot to note it... So I've been surprised by some of the reactions my sad little body has had in rebound. I have NO idea when my periods will start... and they've been far from regular, and throw me for a loop. I've been so used to ending the live pills Saturday, starting on Tuesday and going until Saturday, then starting the new pack on Sunday that I'm surprised when I start. I'm surprised by the cramps again. I've broken out in ways I haven't, ever. I've got cystic acne on my face and decolletage and back, and feel like an awkward 16-year-old (which is not the way I want to feel when I'm trying to date again, at the age of 31). I'm crankier, more emotional about odd things.
I've also been cleaning the house like mad. I think it's part of that whole nesting thing that happens with the hormone surges in pregnancy. I'm NOT pregnant, don't freak out. I just mean that maybe my hormones rebalancing is part of what is contributing to this annoying cleaning kick. I've never been much of a cleaner, and now I want order everywhere.

Things don't happen in a vacuum, and I know some of these odd reactions are related to other things in my life - fallings out with friends, career challenges, attempts at dating and making friends again after so long of not doing either - but it's still weird.
I know myself well enough to know that some of these things are so inter-related that it's hard to make heads or tails of it all, but I know that I am, again and again, trying to make sense of my universe, and to make my world mine again. It's amazing how long a break-up can really take. It's not here one day, and gone tomorrow - it's finding clothing in your wardrobe and needing to get away from it. It's memories and thoughts and stories and "where do I fit without this person / these people in my life?" and all the struggles with that.
It's like I was telling someone, it's not that I want to get back together with B, or any of that, but at least with him I knew I had plans. My weekends and days made sense - I talked to him every night before bed, maybe grabbed food and watched TV on weeknights, and then did something on Friday and/or Saturday, with maybe even a Sunday brunch or dinner with the extended friend group. Now, I struggle around to find my place in the universe again, and I don't think I'm doing too good a job of it.

Saturday Inertia

So, as you see below, last night I had written a great post, was just about to add pictures to it when blogger decided I didn't need the 15 or 20 minutes of clever writing, and the screen refreshed and erased it all. It was a fitting end to a Saturday.

Since B and I broke up last fall... and more so since my decision to maintain the distance some of my friends in that social group... I've found I have A LOT MORE TIME on my hands... and a lot less to do on weekends. Strangely, I've been finding ways (through work events and such) to fill my weeknights... but my weekends are filled with a lot of nothing.

My past week:
Monday - at home, best I can remember. Oh, and some grocery shopping.
Tuesday - Pilates (5:30-6:30); Grizzlies game (vs. LA Clippers, last pre-playoffs home game) with Randi (from work, who somehow got lost on the way to my house and ended up in Mississippi). Parked in the media lot, which we gained admittance to by giving the lot attendant station swag (condoms and lighters). Saw just over half the game (which, due to playoffs, both teams were trying not to win), including a half-time show with world-champion acrobatic trampoline artists (really!) and a performance by the cutest little kid dance team (they looked like those kids in Missy Elliot videos). When we were leaving, some dude looked at my shirt and asked me about Southern California. He said he was from the west coast, Oregon, and when I asked him where, he said Eugene, at which point I had to ask him which high school he attended... which was Sheldon, the same high school that all 3 of my sibs went to when we lived in "Blue Jeans" Oregon. Small, small world, and kinda funny too... and we may have converted him to a listener, as we told him about the station and gave him free condoms and lighters out of Randi's magic prize purse. We went to dinner at Hard Rock (where our waiter, young Wesley, insulted my choices in food and then gave us the slowest, mockingest service ever).
Wednesday - a night at home, no real good TV.
Thursday - Memphis Redbirds game (which was a station promotion), and met up with S and watched the game.
Friday - Bookstore (another Friday night do-dah, this time for the University of Memphis State University literary society or something). Did have some nice convos with artists at bookstore / artists market. But was dull, with no book customers. Then, home and TV. No big plans, no cool stuff.

Which brings me to my Saturday.
Woke up about 9:30, decided to go to Pilates and get my workout on (the more I notice the slow-but-sure effects Pilates has had on my body, the more motivated I am to go). I knew my friend K wasn't planning on going, so got ready and headed out by myself to the 10:15 class. It was a good workout, I saw my old instructor Traci for the first time since she had the baby (I also saw the baby, who is so cute and so small). After class, this girl who had been a few times before was asking questions about Pilates, so asked her if she wanted to head to Starbucks with me for a post-workout drink. We went, got drinks, and sat on the patio for about an hour and half, gabbing and getting to know each other. My brother later called it a "girl-date", which is pretty accurate. I've maintained for years that making friends is as painful as dating. But this girl, Ashley, was really cool, and has only been in Memphis for 10 months, so she's as open to making friends as I am.
At about 1, I headed home to my exciting day of nothing. Called my brother JD, and talked to him about life, the universe and nothing for about an hour. Then, I puttered around, watching TV, listening to music and cleaning (again) for the rest of the day. If I don't find something else to fill my time, and soon, I'm going to run out of things to clean / tidy / organize / dust / sort / purge / swiffer. I loaded and ran the dishwasher. I swept the living room (for like the 4th time in 2 weeks). I took out the trash and recycling. I heated up mostly empty lotion bottles to get the last usable stuff out of them (it works - put them in a little hot water for a minute or two, and then pour out into another bottle) and recycled the bottles. I sorted and catalogued and boxed my magazines for library donation. I went through all my medicines and vitamins, and flushed all expired ones (and recycled the bottles). I went through all my old toiletries and did the same thing... and dusted and swept the areas I store them in. By the time I was done with all that, I had to take the trash and recycling out again. (my contribution to earth day, I guess). And, during this whole process, I discovered that I had given myself a nice one-armed severe farmer's-tan-burn on my left arm from my al fresco beverage with my new Pilates friend.
Like I said, an exciting Saturday. I didn't even have any TV to look forward to, as the WE network has stopped carrying my Australian soap opera, McLeod's Daughters. That was at least something I could do on empty Saturday nights. (This isn't the first time WE has done this to me; they also stopped carrying Cutting It, right as I was getting into the storyline.)

Such is life. I'm now working at the bookstore, for my 5-hours-on-Sunday shift. I've actually had a few customers, and may today even reach my personal goal of selling enough books to pay my wages (some days, that is merely a pipe dream).

I know my whole East Coast family is currently out West this weekend - Dad is in Vegas for NAB, Bebe is out in Oregon for her college visit and decision making tour, and Mom will soon be joining her (and staying on longer for a trek south to see the LA branch of the family). Wish them all luck in their endeavors.

I'm going to go tidy and sweep and organize the store a little bit. That is, after all, what I am here for, right? :)

No commentary... lost entry... pictures only...

I had just finished this entry, and the blogger interface erased the entire thing.

I had written about 10 or so paragraphs. I'm heartbroken.

Here's the pictures that I had written about.










Maybe, if I have energy tomorrow, I'll rewrite this and add all the comments and details. It's nearly midnight on another solo Saturday night (after another Saturday of housecleaning - the 3rd or 4th in a row). I have a sunburn on the side of my left arm, and I'm in extreme pain from it. And I don't have any aspirin to take, as the vial I had was 3 years old, and I threw it out today as part of the housecleaning.

I bid you a fond adieu!

romance novels versus porn

people are weird. and weird people want to argue with you about weird things.
I'm sitting in the bookstore, and a weird Asian fellow (approximately my age, I would guess) asks me what romance novels are, why people read them, and the relationship of them to sex, desire, lust, romance, and porn. And, whenever I would try to educate, inform, or opine, the dude would yell over me with his ill-formed hypothesis likening romance novels to hateful depictions of male-female relationships, akin to porn. I don't like arguing with uninformed people, and I don't like being yelled at. And, I don't like discussing sex and sexuality with a stranger with an axe to grind.
weird, weird, weird.
more soon... i have random pictures to post. I heart my camera phone. (I don't heart the charges for mailing myself the photos)

"I'm a winner. Things are gonna change, I can feel it"

Did you win anything in the big $220 million Powerball drawing last (Wednesday) night?
I did. I do the $5 quick pick, no powerplay. And I had, on one of my 5 lines, the powerball, number 24. So , I won $3. First time in a long while! I suppose if I had dropped an additional dollar per ticket on the powerplay, I could have had 4 times the money. But $3 is cool. And next time the jackpot gets above $100 million, i'll start playing again.

So, I'm surprised I forgot to post this yesterday. I've found out that an ex-boyfriend is getting married. Next week. And I never would have known had I not dropped a quick note to his childhood best friend.

Now, before you get all weird, his childhood best friend edits a blog, called "Deadspin", about sports. When Tim and I were dating, Will was dating a girl named Jess as well. And he moved out to LA to work on a newspaper. So, I knew Will socially. He's a good guy, and I've kept in touch with him, peripherally, over the years. He's worked on a few different print and internet media, and as I come across his name on mastheads, I drop him a line to say hey.

The other day, I was reading Deadspin, and noticed all the references to the editor's love of the St. Louis Cardinals. The only major league baseball games I have ever been to were Dodgers v. Cardinals, both with Tim. Memphis' minor league team, the Memphis Redbirds, is farm club for the St. Louis Cardinals. And the new St. Louis Cardinals park, Busch Stadium, looks like Memphis Redbirds' stadium, AutoZone Park.

So, I dropped Will a note to that effect, and got an email back saying hey, and that he was heading to LA for Tim's wedding. Being the intrepid reporter that I am, I went to Wedding Channel and looked up his wedding details. All I can say from the registry is, she's got expensive tastes. That, and she must not be Catholic (the religion he was raised in), as the wedding and reception are being held at the same place, and neither is in a church.

The weird thing is my reaction to this. This isn't really the first ex who is getting married. Russ got married years ago, and I think I might have heard they may have kids now. And when he was planning on getting married, I was genuinely happy for him, for he seemed happy. But I don't really know about my exes; if they have been married, I just don't know about it. I'm not a person who really keeps in touch with my exes - that's just a reality of who I am and how I've lived. I think it's difficult to stay social and friendly with someone who you've shared so much, and who is associated with happiness and loss. A few exes I keep up with (my brother is still social with at least two of mine), but not directly.

And, Tim, well, we broke up and then I moved to Eugene. He had fallen out of love with me, but stayed with me because he didn't know how to say it. So, when I moved to Eugene, I really had no interest in staying in touch. And I found out from mutual friends that he was telling people the best way to deal with a break-up was to have her move away, so you didn't have to deal with it. So, I was a little bitter. When I moved back to LA, I phoned him up to catch up. And I emailed with him once or twice when I was living in LA. But we haven't really been in touch, and I was just fine with that.

I've thought about him recently, as I've been reviewing my life and loves and all that. And we weren't a great match, but he was the right guy in my life at that time. The year I graduated I wasn't really ready for the real world, and having a boyfriend who was still in college helped. He was a film student, in a fraternity, and, when it started, really liked me. The year I graduated I was living with my Aunt Vickie. Tim and I saw a lot of movies. He bought me flowers. And I got to play dress up and go to dances.

I always thought that when I found out an ex was marrying, I would be upset, but that hasn't bene the case. When Russ got married, I was happy for him; as much as I liked his parents and they liked me, Russ and I would have driven each other nuts. I know that now. And my reaction to Tim's impending wedding is more along the lines of, "hey, isn't that interesting? I used to know and love that guy. I hope he's happy and making a good decision for himself."

It also makes me feel old, like life is moving on and leaving me behind in the dust. All these people I once loved are moving to the next stage in their lives, a stage I would like to reach. And Tim is in LA, so he's getting married at the right marrying age (30) for that area.

So, yeah, I don't know... I think I'm happy for him, but i'm mostly disappointed in myself for not finding that happiness for myself yet. And, I know, all in due time. But still...

I'm okay, really...

thanks to all of you who have called or emailed to make sure I was okay.
I'm fine, actually. I posted, and fumed to a few people (on the phone and in email) and it's all okay. Thanks again to those who listened, and provided advice.

I've learned (again) who can and can't be trusted. The short, non-detailed version of it is that rumor/gossip about me was passed around between former co-workers who work in three other states, and made it back to me from another former co-worker who I am still close with. It was like a game of telephone, or passing notes in class. Really lame, and really annoying, and really disheartening, disappointing, exhausting. My life really isn't that interesting, it's really none of their business, and all these GUYS (from start to finish, the rumor mill was staffed by adult males) have really busy lives that should have kept them busier than to talk about "did you hear about jessica?"

But, yesterday was a good day. I came home from work, napped (as best as I could between phone calls), and went to Pilates. Which totally kicked my ass, but in a good way. After class, chatting with the girlfriend I work out with, the muscles in my legs were totally twitching.

BTW, Pilates is TOTALLY working. Since I started Pilates (last July, about a month before B and I broke up), I've lost at least 10 pounds (I don't own a scale, so I've only been weighed twice since I started - at my annual in December, and at Jen's in March) and full pants size. Also, my face has thinned out (I have my chin back!) and my stomach is much flatter. If I were only doing cardio, I could lose the pooch above the hard muscle of my tummy (seriously, i have a hard tummy!). I said to someone the other day that, since last fall, I've lost at least 260 pounds - 10 off my body, and 250 of ex-boyfriend weight that was really dragging me down.

So, anyway, after Pilates I decided to return a gift to Victoria's Secret, and buy some new undies. It's part of my whole "Out with the old, in with the new" plan. I didn't make any resolutions this year; it's a gradual self-awareness and self-improvement campaign. I returned a gift that had been sitting in a box since January, and used the credit from that (and some of my own money) to buy THE BEST UNDIES EVER. Ladies, I'm not kidding. I've been burnt on VS for a while (they don't carry the big boobie bras, and give me scornful looks when I ask for my size), but these skivvies are awesome. They are part of the Body by Victoria line, the microfiber seamless ones, in the hiphugger cut. There is barely a waistband, they don't come too high or too low in the back or the front, and the legs are cut more like a boyshort (but with full butt coverage), and they sit right on the hipbone. They are cute, and comfortable (I didn't tug at them ONCE during work today), and don't show a line at all.

Once I had started shopping, I couldn't stop. I swung by the Payless Shoes, and found the cutest shoes that I have use for, so I didn't buy them. Super cute, though... It's a peep-toe, slingback wedge, in black or tan. Great for jeans, or skirts (if I ever wore them).

Then I walked into The Gap, and they had all sorts of stuff marked down. What I really need are new tops - I've found myself walking around half-dressed a lot recently, with my jeans and shoes picked out, and NO IDEA what to put on for a top. What I ended up buying were a pair of jeans, marked down to $19.99, which we all know is a GAP bargain. I couldn't help it - they were my skinny size, a size I haven't worn since I started dating B. I was that size when I moved to Memphis, but that is 4 years ago tomorrow (OH, GEEZ, I just realized that!). I had no choice but to buy the flattering and correctly sized skinny jeans. Any woman would be powerless in that situation. Oh, and I bought six pairs of socks, all on sale, at The Gap.

Which meant when I got home, I had to sort and purge the sock and underwear drawers. We should all do that from time to time. I've got undies I can remember buying when I first moved back to LA - in 2000. I just got rid of some i bought when I lived in Eugene. Yeah, I know... I also got rid of some favorite stripy socks that had lost their stretch. Made me sad. But I felt a great sense of accomplishment in getting my drawers organized and in order.

So, yeah, as the modern day prophet Kenny Loggins said (and later trained a small burrowing rodent to dance to), "I'm alright. Don't nobody worry about me."

Some people never grow up

without getting into unnecessary details, I've once again learned:
that you can actually trust less people than you think you can...
that women don't have a monopoly on idle, destructive gossip...
that, apparently, some people never stop being 13-years-old...
that trust is something i give too easily...
that being grown-up does not equal being a "grown-up"...
that an interesting "secret" can spread over states and phone lines and email faster than a Topanga Canyon wildfire...
that I do have some true friends, but less than I had imagined I had...

Is it too much to ask that people in their late 20's and early 30's should behave as adults?
Why can't people be f-ing grown ups?

This seems to be a specific problem of mine of late... people who are adults who don't act, react, or behave in a manner befitting their age and station in life.

I'm so aggravated, frustrated, and annoyed... I'm also sad, upset, and naseous... and disappointed.

Why are people such shits?

Chinese food, guilt, housecleaning, and the right bra

Today is Sunday, I'm working at the bookstore, and felt the need to write a little. Catharsis is good for the soul, as they say.

Friday night was good... for hanging out... (tip of the hat to Bernie/Elton for "Saturday night's alright for fighting")

There was another weather emergency in the local area on Friday, and my good friend T was going to have to work a VERY long day. I talked to her around 7 pm and found out that she would still be there for hours, and was craving Chinese food. I offered to bring her some, if she could get clearance from S to let me come by the "forbidden studios" (see the post below, no good deed goes unpunished" for further details on that drama). The permission was granted, and I brought them by the requested egg drop soup and various fried rices (chicken for T, shrimp for S, veggie for me, since it was a Lenten Friday) around 9-something.

The bringing-food-by also allowed me to ditch some of my guilt over another to-do on Friday. Friday morning I started receiving emails from members of my old social group - the friend who accused me of being "sneaky and rude" and the ex, B. It transpired to be the birthday celebration for the female friend's husband, and they were all trying to get some plans together.
I read these emails with a sense of detachment, as I knew I would feel supremely uncomfortable to be at this gathering. The man whose birthday was being celebrated is a salt-of-the-earth, all-around-nice-guy kind of fella, and I genuinely would have liked to have wished him happy birthday. But his wife has not apologized, either directly or indirectly, for flipping out on me for an imagined affront. And I've decided, in my old age, that I don't want to be around people who could so easily accuse me of doing something awful, and then recess into denial as if they had never said awful things to or about me. This also includes not being around my ex. It's not that he is a bad person, per se, it is just that he was a bad person for me, and I was a lesser version of myself when I was with him.

And I don't want to be a lesser version of myself anymore. Every relationship one chooses to be in should make them a better version of themselves.

(sorry, had to pause there - had a visit in the store from the aforementioned T and her lovely children, who have grown SO MUCH since the last time i saw them)

So, as I was saying, relationships should push us to be the best person we can be. And my relationships with some of that friend group was not. B called me a "bitch" the last time I saw him, and I resolved that would pretty much be the last time I spent any significant amount of time with or near him. I, as an adult, don't have to spend time with people who have disdain for me.

The hype over this gathering on Friday reached it's crescendo with a voice-mail message on Friday, while I was working at the bookstore, from B, the ex. Making sure I knew about it, in case I hadn't seen the emails, and the details (where / when everyone was meeting, etc). And I did have some anguish over the whole thing - was I being an ass by not attending? But a wise artist from the Artists Market gave me an Oprah platitude that helped - something along the lines of if you have reservations, there is a reason.

So, I resolved not go, even with the twinges of guilt I was feeling about that decision. Being with them, I would have been uncomfortable, and therefore unhappy. And why spend big bucks on a steak dinner to be unhappy on a Friday night? I was so much happier to spend $13.50 on take-out Chinese and hang out with two broadcasters whose company I enjoyed (and who enjoyed my company).

Saturday was a slightly different story. I kept on waking and falling back asleep, and missed my Saturday 10:15 am Pilates class. Life goes on, though I could have used it after my chinese food on Friday. I finally woke at 11-something, and realized all the power in my apartment was off (my alarm clock was un-clocked, there were no lights in the main room, and, most telling, the cable box was not displaying time). I threw on a sweatshirt and shoes, and stepped outside. A guy who works for the bike shop was washing a truck, and he told me it was out all over the block. I called it in to the local power utility, anyway.

Then I realized I had few options on how to while away my Saturday afternoon - clean or read. A phone call from Nicole distracted me for about an hour, but when she had to go, I had too much time on my hands. While talking to her, I had already folded and put away all my previously tossed a corner clean laundry. I made a list of cleaning (like I always do and ignore) and started to check things off. I didn't shower, because my hair is at the length that needs blow-drying or a straight iron to achieve non-ski-jumpiness in the back. Without electricity, one cannot straight iron their hair.

Even when the power came back on, I continued cleaning. I've moved the box of paper wrap back in the weird semi-storage space in my bedroom. Before I showered, I scrubbed my shower/tub (with Soft Scrub and brush).

I finally showered around 6 pm, a big "I've got time so let's take a long shower" shower. I shaved and exfoliated and moisturized. (You girls understand how time consuming that can be). Then I found out my plans for the night had fallen through, due to an overnight stomach bug. So, I was shaved and styled and moisturized, with nowhere to go. I called T, but she couldn't come out and play. So, I did more housecleaning - unloading the dishwasher, washing the rag rugs from my kitchen and bathroom. I also gathered (from the 3 or 4 places they collect) and sorted and stacked all my magazines, and just need to list them before i box them up for library donation (for tax write-off). I watched some TV, and decided to purge more of my closet into the charity bags - a few more old handbags are going bye-bye.

Tonight, I think I will swiffer my floors again (all rooms), dust the ceiling fan in my bedroom, scrub the bathroom sink and kitchen sink, and vacuum out all the little crevices in my kitchen. Or, more hopefully, I'll get out of the house. An overclean house scares me. I'm not used to it.

Actually, I REALLY need some furniture. A dresser to actually keep clothing in. A bedside table. A computer desk so I can get my kitchen table back. But that's when I find some good stuff, and the budget allows.

I can't believe I forgot to post about one of the most important things to happen to me this week - the purchase of the 62 dollar bra. This week, I went to the foundation garments store in town, A Fitting Place, and got fitted for the right size bra. And even though the lady didn't believe me when I told her my size (34-DDD, which is also known as 34-F), she soon confirmed it with her measure tape. I told her I didn't like minimizers (they flatten you out, and the center stays come up too high on the neckline), and which brand bra I would like to try out, Le Mystere (which sells Oprah's favorite bra). I tried two on, and fell in love with one model, the Carina. The Dream Tisha is the one that Oprah loves, but the shoulder straps were too wide for my tank tops.

Yeah, I know most women wouldn't complain about having big ones, but we all have our burdens. My other larger-breasted friends know the pain (and it is), of having to find the right bra (with right architecture, etc) and then the right clothes to work with the big ones. But, ladies, let me tell you, these bras are great. Even if you are more average-sized, I suggest trying these out. They have a smaller selection at some department stores, but I also found them online at Nordstrom. Though, before you go buying any, go to the department store or foiundation garment store and get fitted. You think you know your bra size, but you are probably wrong. There is some statistic that says that most women are wearing the wrong size. You gain weight, you lose weight, you have babies - all of these things change the shape and size of your rack. Trust me, it is such an ego boost to be wearing a great bra in the right size. Everything looks and feels better, and it makes you look thinner - really! I highly recommend it.

I should sign off. I've got 20 minutes left in my shift here. :)

The Alternative

Have I mentioned lately how much I love the cable channel VH1 Classic?
No?
Okay, then, I LURVE VH1 Classic. Especially the program, "The Alternative".
Just tonight, I've seen / heard:
The Cure, Close to Me
They Might Be Giants, Istanbul (Not Constantinople)
some Big Audio Dynamite song I didn't know
Romeo Void, A Girl in Trouble
Morrissey, Sing Your Life
The Jesus and Mary Chain, some song I didn't know (April Sun)

It's like Junior High / High School / College in one show.

I had also forgotten how truly weird Robert Smith and the Cure were, especially their videos. In this one, the entire band was stuck in an armoire that crashes off a cliff into the sea. Their makeup remained unsmuged, though, as they were slowly drowning and playing the music.

Earlier today, before my post-work nap, I saw The Divinyls, "Pleasure & Pain". You may not remember this song... it was their hit before the super-huge dirty song that everyone remembers, "I touch myself". That lead singer, Christina, was not all that attractive facially, but she had big ones and short skirts and stockings with garter belt suspenders.

Nicole, if you are reading this, watching the Alternative is like hanging out with Chris G and Marty and sleeping over your house and driving in my first car. Just watching this show takes me back to the ages 14-24. Seriously.

Time for bed. Must turn off addictive music television and sleep. But I can't, they are playing New Order's "True Faith" (the "morning sun" song), the video with the weird people in puffy suits running backwards and jumping and stuff.

Music is far more emotionally laden than most people realize. I've always identified very strongly with music, and tied songs to certain moments in my personal history. it's funny how we don't always realize we're doing that. But then you hear a song, and you are 19 and at a fraternity party with your friends drinking Jungle Juice out of garbage cans. Or, you hear a song, and you are 13-14, with the most hopeless crush on one of your friends. You know how it is.

Bases Loaded, Full Count

"so, T looked it up on the Internets, and apparently it would be considered tagged out between second and third."

The Five Factor Personality Test

my mom had this on her blog, so I thought I would do it too...
is it true? I don't know... some is, some isn't. The questions are a little oversimple.

Your Five Factor Personality Profile

Extroversion: You have medium extroversion. You're not the life of the party, but you do show up for the party. Sometimes you are full of energy and open to new social experiences. But you also need to hibernate and enjoy your "down time." Conscientiousness: You have medium conscientiousness. You're generally good at balancing work and play. When you need to buckle down, you can usually get tasks done. But you've been known to goof off when you know you can get away with it. Agreeableness: You have low agreeableness. Your self interest comes first, and others come later, if at all. In general, you feel that people are not to be trusted. And you're skeptical that anyone else really feels differently. Neuroticism: You have low neuroticism. You are very emotionally stable and mentally together. Only the greatest setbacks upset you, and you bounce back quickly. Overall, you are typically calm and relaxed - making others feel secure. Openness to experience: Your openness to new experiences is medium. You are generally broad minded when it come to new things. But if something crosses a moral line, there's no way you'll approve of it. You are suspicious of anything too wacky, though you do still consider creativity a virtue.

The Five Factor Personality Test

More, More, More

First things first - My agent fired me today, in an brief email, before I could draft the letter to fire him (which I have been writing in my head for weeks). As of the last day of May 2006, I am not represented. Yay. This is a good thing for me. This means I get 10% of my income back... which I plan on using to start a retirement fund, through my employer. Because of my age, I plan on being mid-range aggressive in my 401k investments. Any suggestions on funds (we are through Merrill Lynch), email me privately.

Now, onto the real reason I sat down to write tonight.
A recent email conversation has me thinking about love and all that...

[friend] I've been curious to ask you about your references to liking someone "too much," etc. Is it your fear of being hurt in a relationship that makes you say that? I'm afraid we have to open ourselves up to heartbreak before we can truly let ourselves fall in love.
If your fear is that you fall in love too quickly, well then you might have an issue. I can relate to that problem somewhat, but at least I can go to my grave saying that I had no regrets.

The reality is that I fall in love very easily, and often. I was asked a few weeks ago how many times I had been in love, and the answer is probably 6 or 8 times. Each time is different, like each heartbreak is different.

I've also had some very powerful crushes over the years. I've also had my heart stomped on and shattered, and in most of my relationships, have the break-up-ee, not the break-up-er. Chalk part of that up to my stick-to-it-ive-ness, and part of that up to my powers of denial. (You know when something isn't going right, but you ignore the voices telling you so because you want to make something work.)

I've screwed things up at the beginnings of things by being over-keen. I've had a guy (in college) tell me I was being (and I quote), "too girlfriendy". (BTW, this was after he had phoned me and asked me to come over because his parents were putting their childhood dog down, and he didn't want to be alone.) Post college, a guy I really liked (who lived in a Portland, when I was in Eugene) called things off for basically the same reason. I fell hard, and it scared him. And then he later regretted some of his decision, as he would occasionally email me to find out how I was doing, and express his regrets (and other things).

When you (and by "you", I mean me) open yourself up fully to the groundswell of mutual attraction, like, and even (gasp) lust, you open yourself up to the greater pain of rejection. Or to being used by unscrupulous, uncareful men (boys, really).

So, as I've gotten older, I've made efforts to keep all that in check, to move a more careful, measured pace into relationships. Hasn't really worked, to be honest. I really only add a level of anxiety to the whole proceedings. Even when I'm not the first one falling, I still end up being caught up in the whole thing, and moving too quickly into relationships. It's always heart before head in my world.

I totally understand the concept of "in love with love". Feeling the first flushes of something can be so heady, giddy, wonderful, a rush. There's something to be said for walking around slightly dazed and stupid. It's the rest of it that is confusing.

Ah, well. Such is life, really. Love is the drug (as Brian Ferry said), and Love is all we need (John-Paul-George-Ringo).

The other thing that trips me up is my history of "non-relationships" / "un-relationships". The ones where we are going out (spending time together, making plans, and all the rest), but they don't want to be pinned down to one girl, or to admit that we are together. Why have I put up with this? I'm still working on the reasons. But it is something that goes back to High School with me - MP & DR from the high school era, RM from college (god, did I try to make that boy love me), and most recently B.

My friends think I'm such a strong person, but I don't think I am, as much as a strong personality. When confronted with attraction and the possibility of love, I become a marshmallow. Why else would I have put up with the constant semi-rejection of B and the others before him? DR from high school was seeing THREE girls at once, but we all thought we were the only, and didn't understand why the other two were hanging out and calling him. I was the most steady of the three, but, in retrospect, that had more to do with the fact that I had a car (I was a year older) than how much he did or didn't care for me.

So, I guess these stories illustrate my reluctance to fall too hard and too fast, as I always do. Because when I fall hard and fast, I open myself up to pain, rejection, and loss of common sense. I just hope in my future, I can keep as level-headed as possible whilst also following my heart.

I want to have the certainty about my love decisions as my friend above did. I want to be able to say I have no regrets, but that isn't true. There are things I regret - things I did and didn't do (to this day, I still wish I had had a chance with KM when it was available, but it passed). There are times I regret. And there are times that make me laugh and smile and say, can you believe I did that?

10 years younger

So, I had a really good weekend... and I'm walking around really happy today. But I don't feel like posting about it, 'cause I don't like to jinx things.

So, instead, I thought y'all might appreciate seeing something really funny. Me, just under 10 years ago.



These photos were emailed to me (last year) by my good friend in LA, Juan. Juan and I worked together at a now-defunct company called Virgin Sound and Vision. I was a temp, part-time college student receptionist (this was during my last semester of college, and first few months out). Juan was a temp executive assistant, who I somehow stayed friends with lo these 10 years. Funny how life works.



These pictures were all taken on the same day. Juan scanned them in recently. The thing is, I don't what the occasion was - juan's going-away gathering, my graduation, my going-away gathering.



I hope Juan doesn't mind me posting these.

It's funny, really, because I've been saying to some of my friends that I think I am better looking now, at 31, than I was at 21. And these are pictures of that age. And I think I'm right. And it's not just that I have a little more sense of how to dress for my height / body type. And it's not that I have a better hairstyle ('cause that one is pretty cute, even if it is a little too brown for my current tastes). And it's not that I'm thinner now (I'm not, but I am fitter, and that one is an on-going proccess).

The real reason is I have confidence and experience and wisdom, which you don't have at 21. You have youth, but if you don't know what to do with youth when you're young (which I didn't), you have to wait until you have wisdom and knowledge and an understanding of who you are (and aren't) and what you will and won't stand. And then you can be a true hottie!