Epiphany #1 - The Gift of Receiving

In my life I've had a lot of blessings.  It's funny, though, how a few experiences can throw you off track and all of a sudden "the luckiest girl ever" isn't so much any more.  As we get older we start thinking about things.  We beat ourselves up over choices, or the fact we got drunk the night before.  You wake up saying "Ugh...What was I thinking."  It happens to the best of us.  The trick is to not let it define your life.  I was not so lucky.

I have always felt guilty about breaking up with one of the best guys ever when I hit my senior year in high school.  I wanted to be free....well, that and I thought men didn't have the same emotions that women do (Thanks Dad.)  In truth, I think the fact that he always knew who he was, what he wanted to do, where he would go to college, what job he wanted and where he lived was something I couldn't deal with.  I was a free spirit, flying by the seat of my pants and taking life as it came; always someone who did what they wanted to do because it seemed fun.  Not because it would make me popular or win me some crown.  I just had no idea where I was going in life...it was yet to be determined, and I suppose I felt like I needed space to figure it all out.

In the end I devastated him, and in some ways I have never forgiven myself for it.  Not to mention the fact I almost immediately entered into a relationship with a guy who would turn out to abuse me - verbally, emotionally and sometimes physically.  That adds to the guilt.  I had something so special.  A one of a kind guy who thought I was the cat's meow.  There was no one else for him.  Of course, a few years ago, I paid for a background search, in hoping somehow he might take me back after all of these years, only to find out that he's married to a woman who's a runner, he has the job he always wanted and they have one child.  Chapter and book closed.  Still...I lament.  I know I shouldn't, but it's hard not to do when you aren't finding someone to spend time with; someone genuinely interested in you.  I want someone to look at me the way he did - those green eyes.....I still remember.

Over time, I began failing myself and being overwhelmed by others' expectations for me.  On my 32 birthday my aunt and uncle came to town (they once lived here while he was in medical school).  They announced their disappointment in their own children and that I was the last hope for the family name.  You have to understand that on that side of my family there is a lot of a pressure to be successful; to be or marry a lawyer, doctor, CEO, engineer, etc.  A LOT of expectation.  You can imagine my shock.  I love my cousins who are successful in their own right and married to fantastic women with beautiful children.  Mostly, I was surprised that my aunt would agree.  My uncle has always been a bear, of some sorts, just like my grandfather, who passed away before my parents were married.  In that family, men are honored and celebrated.  They're expected to be extraordinary and incredibly successful.  My mother had three daughters.  The pressure, apparently, is no less, but my Mom and Dad, due to their own circumstances, would not appeal to that "law".

I've carried that night and conversation around with me long enough.  Over the years, I've let it keep me down.  Instead I've replaced the opportunity for success with the fear of it.  Ironic since that's what I'm so stubborn and determined to achieve. That's what's fueled my fury to keep my business and to make it work.  In truth, I had to reach a point where I could let it all go and feel really good about it, before change in my life would happen.  My stubborn nature was forcing me to hold on to something entirely uncontrollable.

When my epiphany started was two years ago.  A friend I had become close to through a tragic situation repaid me for my love and also effort to help her achieve awareness for her business with a meditation class.  It taught me to let go.  To let go of others' expectations on my life.  To rid all of those people whose energy I've been carrying around with me.  Wow, what a heavy load!  My Dad, My uncle, the perfect boyfriend, the abuser, my mistakes, disappointments and stumbles through life.  I never realized how much it was affecting me.  Today, I have a better relationship with my Dad, I'm in a good place with the abuser, still miss the perfect boyfriend, and have learned to laugh or forget my mistakes and embarrassments. 

What I've come out the other side to learn is something my friend in recovery lives by: "Let go and Let God".  Nothing could be more true.  All of this time I've felt unworthy of receiving blessings and love in my life.  If only I could have been better.  Not made so many bad choices. Not gone through bouts of depression imposed by the pressure and possible disappointments the men in my life would see in me.  If only.... I've come to realize that my deciding to move to Kansas City, closer to family and a "safer", more familiar place (maybe thinking I could be a big fish in a little pond once more) was more about me letting go than actually moving.

I can tell you it's been a pretty powerful epiphany.  I see the world differently.  Instead of worrying about business, and knowing I can just give it all up for a job, business has begun to come my way.  It's coming to me in unexpected ways.  Clients may want to take a step back but all of them want to come back - a first!  And more over, past clients are coming back for smaller projects like consulting and even current clients are referring me all over the place!

When it comes to love, I became insecure.  I wanted them to like me so much; especially when I thought they were perfect - tall, good looking, successful, gregarious....- in time I simply shut down.  I shut down emotionally to the prospect of a real relationship. Maybe because they sensed my wall, maybe because they only wanted a certain thing, maybe because I felt undeserving after my poor choices, so I just made more poor choices in men.  And...there's always the defense that I knew, or believed, I would break up with them, so why move forward.

For the first time, I've allowed myself to be uncomfortable in order to explore the possibility of my heart and what God might have in store for me.  After all, He wants me to be happy and successful.  The Universe wants that for me, so why, even though I want it, did I not believe I deserved it.  Matt* was the first to treat me with respect.  He wanted to court me, taking his time to get to know me.  I still remember how it felt when we sat on the couch talking and he brushed the hair away from my face.  It was one of the sweetest acts I'd experienced in a very long time.  While it didn't work out with him because of his disease, alcoholism, I am confident it was God's way of slowly allowing me to experience how it should be.  To tell me "Hey, Idiot!  You deserve this!"  In every way, it gave me the strength to open up and receive from Steven - someone who gives me everything I need in a relationship.  This is what I've dreamt of.  If you were to ask me to make a list, everything he is would be on it.  It's not about what he looks like or the shag rug on his back, for the first time it's about who he is.  The rest was simply a defense mechanism which has kept me single for far too long.

Now that I've realized the beauty of receiving, it seems to be coming in all forms.  Today, I had lunch with a kindred spirit and the two of us immediately fell in love.  She's fantastic and I'm looking forward to working with and building a friendship with her.  We even spoke and shared about the power of opening oneself up to receive.

I am worried about my truth revealing itself to Steven.  I'm scared of what he may think and if he would leave me for it, but I can't.  Between now and the time that may happen is a lot of receiving that I can only believe will cure a number of those truths so they are no longer a factor.  He makes me feel like I can do anything and it all started with receiving him.

xoxo

The Date Report: Steven

I know I promised a full report on Saturday but I ended up taking a day for moi, including sweat pants, my down comforter, Dog Whisperer, some DVR and Cold Mountain.  It was awesome!

So, without further adieu....

At 3:45p I looked into my closet with frustration and some horror.  I can't wear jeans, because their all a wee bit too tight on me so it's tights or leggings.  In this weather....leggings.  I call my gf Megan* who says "no" to the leggings and jeans would be good.  Jeans are not good.  "I can't get into any of them".  "That's all in your head."  "Oh, yeah, it's all in my head that my fat ass can't get into any of my jeans.  They don't fit, so how is that in my head?".  She sighs and says okay.  After about 20 minutes of disgust looking at my closet, I finally manage to select three outfits.

1. A maroon knee length, v-neck sweater dress that I would normally wear with tights and boots.  I tried it on and made a face in the mirror.  Too many bumps and bubbles.  So, I put on the tights.  Still too many.  Then I looked at the drawer in my dresser in fear of the one thing that lay inside.  Slowly opening the drawer it had somehow found its way to the top and it stared me straight in the face.  A girdle.  Yep, no fancy Spanx (which I think is a nice word for girdle) but a full fledged girdle.  Ughhh....I pulled it out gingerly praying that I wouldn't look better with it on and just give the whole thing up.  I slipped my feet in and PULLED and...pulled.  Sucked in some air and pulled some more.  It was on.  I slipped the dress on over it, looked in the mirror and I did look better but I also felt like any false move and the damn thing would explode, my bumps and bubbles along with it.  I did NOT feel sexy or beautiful.  I took a picture and sent it to Megan who said "gorgeous".  Ugh.  I don't feel that way.  So, it had to go.

2. A grey dress, that totally reminds me of something I owned in 1988.  It's tight on the butt and legs and then baggy on top where a silver pattern of circles or bubbles rests on the chest - believe it or not, this pattern actually helps those of who are mammary gland challenged.  The sleeves reach elbow length and a large boat neck allows me to wear it low on the chest as a v-neck or it falls off the shoulder.  Black leggings and black boots complete it.  I look in the mirror at what's become my "go to outfit" and think this might be a bit too much for a first date and a little bit too nightclub-ish.  I strip it off.

3. A long sleeve sweater/dress top with a low collared v-neck.  The thin acrylic material helps it hang and brings enough warmth that I won't be sweating indoors or freezing outside in the frozen tundra.  I pair it with jeggings (YES, I said JEGGINGS!  Shutup!  Their totally comfy) and camel knee-high stiletto boots.  I look in the mirror and see the first pleasing reflection of myself in months.  This is the one.  It's a little bit more casual than the others and very date worthy.  I also send this to Megan for approval and get it. 

I was moving slowly and it took another hour getting ready between sips of wine.  I wasn't nervous but I definitely was stressed.  Flat ironed hair to perfection, got frustrated with my eye makeup and ended up completely washing my face and doing it again.  Better, but I was missing my makeup Midas touch.

I feed Meow Mix and look at the clock - 5:10p.  Okay, I'm running late but I can hurry.  I reach under the white bed skirt and pull out the Tupperware container/box that holds my supply of clutches and other non-everyday bags.  I pull out this great snake print clutch that I got at H&M.  This bag rocks and I actually have a couple of the same style.  It's actually a multi-use bag.  The shape is square with handles at the top so you can fill it all the way and carry by handles, or throw in the essentials and fold it in half as a clutch.  Clever design, really.

I lay all the essentials out on the table and pack them one by one, most of them having their own specific place.  The rest jumbled together at the bottom, which will present an archaeological dig later to find my "lip jazz" (aka Burt's Bees tinted lip moisturizer).  Look at the clock.  Shit.  5:17. Shit.  I run into my bedroom grabbing jewelry (there is no time for decisions), quickly decide on the blue and silver circle necklace set Sister2 gave me for Christmas, and I was impressed by this gift!  A first ever.  The color sets off the blue jeggings and my eyes.  I like that my outfit is not matchy-matchy.  I've never been that kind of gal.  Fashion is, to me, an expression of art, creativity and who I am.  One more glance in the mirror.  Back to the bathroom to grab a comb for hair touch ups.  Suddenly I realize I have not put on socks or boots. Shit.  5:23. I quickly take off the jeggings, rub the bottom of my feet with deodorant, pour some baby powder in and pull a striped pair of wool knee high socks (seriously, this does help!), jeggings, zip up the boots.  Ready.  5:25.  Shit.   I wrap my purple Pashmina scarf around my neck, slip into my long Thinsulate coat - zip, snap, tie - grab my 1920's-inspired hat from Target (I get so many compliments on my hat!), gloves, keys, bag and fly down my stairs.  Opening the door, the arctic blast hits my face and the street lights are reflecting off the icy sidewalks.  Potential death, or shattered hip, await me.  Awesome.  Pull out phone. 5:32. Shit, shit!

Unlike my neighbors, I was smart enough to put down de-icer on my sidewalk that morning.  But that was the only danger-free zone.  I made my way to the grassy area and shuffled along on my toes - baby steps to safety.  Finally I make it past the end houses to the crosswalk and scurry across to the school sidewalk - always clear.  I get to my usual corner to grab a cab and...nothing.  Shit. I should have known.  In weather like this, there is never a cab.  Several drive by with their lights off filled with passengers enjoying the warm heat inside as I stand here in boots that have about as much warmth as a freezer.  Awesome.  I pull out my phone for the time.  Shit. 5:40.  And as I put it away the bus pulls up.  Done.

Jumping on to the bus I whip out my CTA (Chicago Transit Authority) card.  "Invalid". What the?  Okay, I pull out $3 and put it in to pay my $2.25 fare - I can't believe I don't have change - "No need for the other dollar," says bus driver.  "Thank you!" I text Steven to report on my delay.  "No cabs."  "Do you want me to come pick you up?"  "Sweet of you to offer but I'm now on CTA."  "Okay - seats by fireplace are taken. May have to work another angle to secure." "My money is on your resourcefulness." "Mission accomplished!"  "Attaboy!" 5:42.

Just 10 minutes later I get dropped at an intersection and prepare to transfer buses.  CTA has this ingenious mobile website where you can get times for buses - CTA Bustracker.  It's brills!  I quickly check the time for the next bus.  What the?  15 minutes?  Seriously?  Knowing that they can often come faster, I begin to walk down the street to the next stop.  I was certainly not going to stand their and freeze my ass off for 15 minutes.  At least walking would get the heart pumping and some warmth brewing. Knowing my CTA card was not working, I tried the trick again and claimed that I didn't have change.  "That's okay," said the busdriver.  "Thanks!"

Finally on bus.  Send text: "Just made transfer will be another 10. I'm sorry."  "No worries."  Ten minutes later, I leap off the bus, refasten the buttons on my coat and haul ass down the block to the venue.  I walk in, look around and see a handful of people sitting at the bar and a few small groups at tall boy tables sharing Happy Hour.  The place is virtually empty.  You'd never know that it is one of the hottest places come summer, jammed with people dressed to the nines and a long line waiting to go up the stairs and on to the beautiful patio on the rooftop. Finally I tell the host that I'm meeting someone by the fire. The host looks as confused as I and finally says, it looks like there is someone sitting in the nook by the fire.  I look and there are a pair legs perched on the table, but that's all I see of him.  I peak my head in and sure enough.  There he is sitting on the banquet leading up to a glass wall.  Inside a thin line of fire burns.  It's not as cozy warm as one might think but it's better than nothing.

"There you are!  Hi!" A big smile came across his face. "Hi, yourself."  We chuckle and he reaches in for a huge bear hug.  Ah!  I love big, tight hugs.  Brother-in-law1 calls it Hug Therapy, and he's right.  I love 'em.  I start to pull away and he grabs tighter.  Awesome!  "You're cold.  I'll warm you up."  Mmmm.

We finally break apart and I take off my coat but leave my hat and scarf on until I can warm up and the witty banter begins.  Wow!  Hilarious!  I love exchanging jabs and witty conversation.  It's one of my favorite things and it was....so much fun!

Steven is about 5"10' and a biggish guy with a Buddha (hey, a little Buddha is good as long as Buddha doesn't get any bigger), large legs and muscular!  His head is shaved and he's donning some killer glasses.  For a moment I was a little confused on his pressing me to dress "sexy" when he had on Brown Timberland lace up ankle boots accompanied by dark blue jeans so worn that the only sign they were once dark is the fine line around the seams, and a bluish-grey sweater.  The guys I typically date would be in nice dark jeans, a long sleeved button down and black ankle boots.  He was dressed super casual and I was happy I chose the right outfit.  Just chic enough but no overdressed.

The waiter came up and asked if I'd like something to drink and I ordered my usual Grey Goose Gimlet up, "Oh, she's going to be trouble!"  I laugh and gingerly slap his knee to say stop.  It felt less like a first date and more like two old friends getting together after a long time. Dare I say, it was very comfortable.  Steven has a shy confidence about him.  Quick with wit but not super gregarious in nature.  It wasn't long before we were just laughing and cracking each other up.  Within 15 minutes he leans close to me and says "I really want to kiss you."  Okay, that was fast! "But I want to wait.  I just don't know how long I can wait."

Within an hour I reached the point in conversation where I wanted to dig in deeper so I asked him what he does.  "I'm a police officer of aviation."  "What does that mean? Do you work at the airport, downtown, what?" "Yes, I work at the airport and help with anti-terrorism, bomb threats, etc."  "So you're protecting us?"  "Yeah, that's a nice way of saying it."  "You carry a weapon and all?"  "Yeah, sort of." WTF, man?  Give me some straight answers!  I never did get one which kind of pissed me off.  I'm thinking he's TSA but can't for the life of me figure out what he's telling me and why he's not just telling me.  Is he ashamed?  Is he undercover?  Whatever. I try again.  "Okay, so are you a Marshall?" "I don't travel."  "Okay, so do you work regular police shifts?"  "Yeah, a few days on a few off and rotation.  I work tomorrow at 5:30."  "In the evening?" "No, morning." "Oh my gosh. We should call it a night soon so you can get to bed."  "Eh, I don't require much sleep." (I hate to pull this book into it but "He's Just Not That Into You" says that if a guys is into you he will go without sleep, find a way to make it through the day and always make time to call you...If I was blind to it before than now I'm thinking he's interested).

After awhile the touchy-feely flirtation increased, the "you're so beautiful" became a regular quote (which a gal never grows tired of hearing), the witty banter continued along with some serious stuff, he began to move in closer and for the first time I allowed myself to linger longer during glances, to study him and allow myself to open to him and see what's there.  I told him about where I'm from in Kansas.  He grabs my hand and intertwines his fingers with mine, "So you're a country girl."  "I grew up in the city of 350,000 people. That's not country!"  "That's country to this city boy."  Hmph.  "Well, country girls are a lot more friendly and confident than city girls."  "I'm beginning to see that."

He asked me why I was single and suggested that I'm a heart breaker.  Hmmmm...maybe a little bit.  I hadn't thought of it  that way.  "I just have some things to deal with.  Relationships with men in my life that I needed to reconcile in order to move forward."  "Hmmm...interesting."  I did open up to him about my dad but didn't go closer to mentioning my abuser/stalker.  He shared that he was super shy growing up and took  a trip to South America where the women are really aggressive and it gave him confidence, and probably made him a bit of a player for awhile.  "But now that I'm almost 40 I'm ready to settle down and look for something real."  "That makes sense.  When is your birthday?" He leans into my ear and whispers "Tomorrow."  "Well, happy early birthday." He leans in again, "Thanks for sharing it with me."

It was almost 10:00 and I insist that we start our departure.  He leans in and whispers "Not without a kiss."  I looked into his eyes and smiled, "Okay."  Wow. Nice, gentle and lots of chemistry.  "Okay, I think we should get our bill and go."  "I want to stay here and kiss more."  "I don't really do full on PDA."  "Okay, then we can finish this in the car. I'll take you home."  "Well, that would be very nice of you." Then we sat and talked a bit longer waiting for the waitress to come by.  She didn't.  I finally said "I have to go to the bathroom.  Let's go."  When I came back he was still sitting there.  I grabbed my coat and he immediately got up to hold it for me to slip on.  What a gent!  Then he grabbed his and said "I'm going to valet for the car."  I stood inside and got this sinking feeling something wasn't right.  He came in to get me, but didn't open the car door.  Instead I stood in front of the car waiting for traffic to clear for one second so I could run to the door and open it before I was bombarded with more oncoming traffic.  I slid into the car, the heater on, and we drove off.

Once at my door, he pulled the car over and, for the first time, I didn't grab the door handle and jump out.  I sat, waited and then he reached towards me, hand on my face and kissed me.  We were now in full blown make out.  The initial kiss was so nice and this one started out the same and then all of a sudden I had a wild animal in my mouth.  This boy did not know how to kiss after all!  My heart sank and I thought "Well, maybe I can teach him as I have others."  But who wants to teach?  I'm willing to help his wardrobe, buy a new, nice, full length coat and trash that entirely too ugly Russian fur (real fur) hat with the ear flaps that just perches on top of his head.  Shutter.  But the kissing.  :( Bummer.  Major bummer.  I finally rescued my mouth from the assault and said "Thanks for tonight. I had fun." "Me too.  I'll see you on Monday."  "Monday?"  "Yeah, that's the next time I can see you."  "Oh, I have a board meeting that night."  "Tuesday?"  "I have a networking group I host that night.  Why don't you call me when you're free and we'll schedule?"  "You are interested in going out again, aren't you?"  "Yes" I say with a sigh and smile.  "Awesome!"

I got out of the car only to see an old neighbor and stopped to give her a hug.  He waited and I told her that my date was waiting for me to go inside and I did.  As I was washing my face, I replayed the night in my head and was very proud of myself.  Proud that I allowed myself to be open and be part of something.  Proud that by doing so I am one step closer to finding my partner.  Proud to let someone be sweet and affectionate to me. Proud that I didn't just grab the door handle, lean over to kiss him on the cheek, leap out, say a quick thanks and I'll talk to you soon and within seconds be in the safety of my home.  Over the years, my wall caused me to shut down; to not get close, not open up, not take the chance.  Often times I would immediately say "this won't go anywhere" or "I'll probably break up with him" so I never bothered to let anyone get close enough to see me. I even did that when I came home.  Immediately I thought "I'm going to hurt him.  Step away now."  When the reality is that is the old Epiphany.  That's the old me and my old modus operandi.  Now that I've done it the last few times I known why I haven't been able to be in a relationship.  I don't let anyone get close.  No matter what happens, it felt really, really good.

Finally snuggled into my flannel sheets and down comforter, doing Sudoku to rest my mind, it donned on me what was off about the end of the night.  I have this sinking feeling that we skipped out on our bill.  Four cocktails and tip.  Probably $50!  Unbelievable.  My phone buzzes.  Text from Steven: "I had a wonderful time with you this evening."  "As I.... :)" And with that I went to bed.  The next morning I texted a Happy Birthday wish and he said "Thanks, country bumpkin."

And with that...we shall see.  There are a couple of other guys I'm talking to and a dating service here in Chicago called to see if I'm still available.  No sex until monogamy and until then I'm dating around, and that includes another date with Steven.

xoxo

What's Eating Epiphany?

So, the trend of waking up after just a few hours of sleep at night continues and it's making it incredibly difficult to get through the next day.  I've tried everything from getting up and working (my clients love this!) to doing Sudoku until my eyes close.  I literally have to exhaust my brain.  And, last night was no different.

I had a nice weekend with a gf who was in town.  It was great to not think about business, money or the fact that my ovaries are losing steam everyday, along with the vibrator.  My mind reels and it doesn't seem to matter how much meditation I do, I can't stay focused.  My mind keeps wondering back to these things and, ultimately, panic and fear kick in.  It's a seemingly never ending cycle of which I'm completely confused about.  Normally I have such faith that fear gets kicked to the corner and told never to come out to play again, EVER. For some reason, things are different.  Nevertheless, I fall asleep for an hour or two until the alarm buzzes.  Ouch...

It is possible that worry and concern is good for me at this point.  I am looking to make a change, to set my priorities straight and those things are all priorities in the short term.  I'm aware of my reality....

While watching "Hope Floats" yesterday, I realized why I love that movie.  I may not have a cheating rat bastard of a husband and be going through divorce or lost my mother, but I relate to Birdie in a number of other ways.  She was "Queen of Corn" the pride of "Smitheville", "audacious".....While I can't claim the first two I was Sweetheart Queen and lived my life without real thought or concern about what other people thought.  I did what I wanted to do because...I wanted to.  There was never a question as to whether my Student Body President campaign was cheesy...it was, but it worked.  I had no problem shaking my groove thing and having a blast while doing it on the pom-pon squad.  And I did it all with a smile on my face and a hello for every person I encountered in school.  I didn't care who was cool and who was not.  Everyone deserved to be noticed and treated with dignity.  I still believe this.

The movie brought out the question in me of "where the hell did I go?" - I used to have that spirit but somewhere it got quashed.  Like someone put the light out.  I have so many cool and fun ideas I want to do for my business and all I can think of is what others will think.  This is NOT who I am.  Part of it may be my career.  I am no longer in the spotlight dancing, singing or performing in a musical.  I'm now behind the scenes, making others look good.  I want to do these crazy things and boost business.  I feel like I have 6-8 months to make it work or I definitely, officially have to get out (and if the great job comes along....yes.  But who knows what will happen?)

So as part of my New Year's Rezzy I will be exploring what it is that is holding me back - which is obviously MYSELF!  There's a saying, "Only you can stop YOU".  Yupper.  That's me and now that I realize it, I mean, really realize it, I am trying to take steps everyday to a. not be overwhelmed by my reality and responsibilities and with what I need to do and b. kick myself in the ass the second I realize that I'm putting things off and not living in excellence (my personal excellence).

It's just so difficult when you know what you want, there are opportunities, but it seems they come with road blocks.  Albeit, they just may be self-imposed, but they're there and I hit those walls and just want to scream.  Today, I am trying to roll with the punches.  Business comes and goes, life isn't always what you think it will be and it's high time that I accept all of it.  I want to be carefree again.

xoxo

The Family Photo

Before I start, I just want to say that, in theory, the concept of getting a family photo is a really good one.  We haven't had such a photo since we all pretty much living in the same town and it was for the church directory.  So, yes, it was definitely time.

I am unsure if I was instantly annoyed because Sister2 (the Milkman's baby) came up with the idea or if it just seemed like a major inconvenience to battle Black Friday traffic and parking to make it happen.  I'm thinking it's the first, especially because she wanted us all to dress alike - never really been a fan..but she did promise it was only going to be a half hour. 

Overall the holiday was very nice and peaceful.  It was great!!!!!  No arguing, no temper tantrums, just plenty of wine to keep us all medicated and a little too tipsy to do much of anything but lift the glass.

Black Friday....Parking in one of the major shopping areas in Omaha was surprisingly not too bad.  We walked into the photo studio and I stop in my tracks.  There are about 100 people hanging around waiting to get their family photo. I look at Sister2 "Thirty minutes, huh?"  Okay, I can deal with screaming babies, kids running around uncontrolled or visibly lacking parents with any shred of common decency.  First things first - find Dad a place to sit.  Spotted.  I should have known that with the slightly bad taste in my mouth that this was going to turn into a debacle.

E: "Excuse me, do you mind if my father sits here? He can't stand long and I have a feeling there's quite a wait."
Woman: "I'm sorry this seat is taken"
E: "Oh, okay, I'll see if someone else will be considerate enough to allow an old man to sit"
Woman: "I'm sorry, I didn't realize..."
E: "That's okay.  I'll bring him over"
Woman: "Well, you see the seat is still taken by my husband"
E: You mean the able-bodied, 30-something looking gent over there standing looking otherwise engaged in conversation versus my 70+ father whose leg issues don't make it easy for him to stand long?  IS THAT WHO YOU MEAN?  "Oh, well, I'm sure someone else will be courteous enough to allow my father to sit."
Woman: "I didn't mean to be rude."
E: "You kind of are." And I thought I had been very nice to her
E: "Excuse me, sir, would you be kind enough to sacrifice your seat for my father? He can't stand very long and I have a feeling we'll be waiting for awhile."
Man: "Of course, no problem."
E: "Thank you so much.  Very kind." As I throw a glance back at the bitch on the couch.....seat next to her is STILL open and hubby still chatting in corner

For the next thirty minutes I checked email on my phone, sent some replies, played Legos with my nephew with my niece hanging off of me.  "Family X. We're ready for you."  FINALLY!

Photographer: "Okay so we'll do each family and couples and then move on to the next room for the family photo"
Dad: "Uhm, we're just here for the family photo"
Photographer: tongue as sharp as a guillotine "We don't do it that way here.  You must sit for all photos"
Brother-in-Law1 (nicest guy in the world!!): "I'm sorry, I thought we were the customers"
Photographer: pause, blank stare "Uhm, hum, yes, well this is the way we do it here"
Mom (the smoother-over-er): "Okay fine, everyone just take the photos"
Photographer: "Okay, Sister2's family. Okay, Sister1 couple. Okay, Mom and Dad.  Great.  Now you" she turns to look at me
E: "Uhm, yeah, I'm not taking a picture by myself"
Photographer: "Well, is your husband or boyfriend on his way? I can wait."
E: humiliated - full on "NO! There is no husband or boyfriend, thanks so much for sharing this in front of the whole world.  I am NOT taking a photo alone."
Photographer: "Well, I'm required to take everyone's photo.  How about you step in with Mom and Dad"
E: and look like the spinster who lives at home with Mommy and Daddy.  I don't THINK so! "Uhm....no!"
Brother-in-law1: why he rocks "You know I think that if the customer says no that means no. We've waited long enough and would like to move on"
Photographer: "Okay then, you need to stand in line here for the next photo"
Dad: "How long will that be"
Photographer: "Like five minutes"

TWENTY-FIVE minutes later we're still in line waiting.  I was able to find another chair for Dad and he was happy.  Meanwhile, cutey niece and I fell into a game of "Would You Rather" - quite fun, actually.

Photographer finally comes up and says you're next.  Four shots, 20 seconds and we were done.  Whoops!  Until we now have to sit down with the photographer and decide what we want.  I whisper to Mom "I just want a 5x7".  "Okay," she says.  I then walk away and take myself out of the situation and continue "Would You Rather" with cutey niece.

Then we were out of there only to discover that the geniuses who run the shopping center have closed every entrance/exit but two for traffic exiting. The rest is all incoming.  What the...? We drove around and around, almost got backed into twice and my Dad got his verbal assaults for the day out of the way, rolling down his window to yell at the stupid people who just jumped out in front our car.  He could have seriously injured one and there was some yelling.  Don't mess with the already annoyed chica.

E:  roll down the window "Dude, be smart.  You're in a parking lot and there are clearly marked pedestrian zones.  How about you try not to give your family the gift of dying today, stick to the designated areas and live to continue making their life a living hell?"
Dude: "Uhm..."
E: I'm sorry did I speak too fast for you?  "Please move out of our way"
Dude: "Uhm..."

You know, I'm really trying not to be irritated by things, but I think it's the nature of the holidays.  I truly can't believe I spoke to these people the way I did - highly unusual for me, but therapeutic! For me and Brother-in-law1 to say what everyone was thinking but no one, including us, never has the guts to say. I've decided that I just wasn't putting up with people's shit anymore.  Don't be stupid, use your head, be thoughtful and everything will be fine.  It's not rocket science.

Although, life is anything if isn't entertaining! 

So, I promise I won't be a Bah-Humbug. After all, a majority of my holiday gifts have been done for months and overall I'm really quite a happy person these days!  No, I'm not getting any, sadly.  That would definitely help keep me in this mood continuously, not to mention provide a nice furnace in my bed at night.  Note to self: stop working so much, go out and find a suitable candidate and ask Santa for a stocking stuffer....a hot man! 

Meanwhile, I'll be doing more meditation, have a chill December and refrain from any human contact.

Hope you all had a lovely holiday.  I missed you!!



xoxo

You Get What You Give

I've always believe this one thing: You get what you give. There's a great song by The New Radicals that truly inspired me to continue living in this way.  It is my theme song, of sorts, and always lifts me up.

While I am on my journey I continue to follow this sort of Golden Rule.  It truly works but it can be difficult.  I often wonder to myself how it is that I am so busy and yet not generating the revenue to reflect it.  Well, it's because I do pro bono work and I'm a big believer in it.  My pro bono clients are some of the best for generating quality referrals for my business.  They are, at times, the clients I am most happy working for.  The joys of success feel higher. Now, there are some, which I will not name, that come and go or simply ask too much of me and I, eventually, have to let them go.

This year, in an effort to focus on me for a change, I let go of some of my volunteer work because it was just taking too much of my time. I have one regular pro bono client, a 17-year old, extraordinary nonprofit founder who is generating tons of press.  I'm so happy to be part of her life and inspired as a factor of her being part of mine.  She is changing the world in a way I used to think I would, but, well, I do, but in a much smaller way.  I'm happy to be part of her good work and to help her realize her dreams for her organization.

This week has been full of opportunities including helping promote a documentary that is getting rave reviews and awards all over the world.  I'm simply helping raise awareness in Chicago, but the film's content and meaning are moving and something I'm lucky to be part of.

It's hard not to live by the motto "You get what you give" and not consider what you will receive in return.  What I am receiving....new clients, opportunities and connections.  They just happen.  It's inexplicable and I can only consider it as God or the universe.

A good friend of mine in recovery said that the best thing that ever happened to her was The Program.  "Let go and let God" had a meaning to her that she reminded me was powerful.  We can only control what we can.  Just get up and do daily.  Live up to your obligations and never forget to do for yourself, and the rest will fall into place.  There is a plan for each one of us that is greater than even we can imagine.  We just have to stick to the path, get up every morning excited for what might happen and go with the flow of that which does happen.  In her wise words, "Let life happen.  It can't be controlled by any of us.  We can only control those things which do happen to us, the blessings, and let Him reveal the rest. And it always happens at the exact time you need it."

As I consider what I want for myself, I also start doubting.  I doubt my choice to leave the city I love so much and all the connections I've made here.  There is a wonder if I will be forgotten and whether these amazing things - connections, networking and connecting people or even achieving new business - will continue.  I know that many will forget me, in time, but I hate that.  I feel like, despite technology, that people are more and more "out of sight, out of mind".  Including the Gay BF who recently announced how he will replace me.  I suppose that's what got me thinking. We can only hope to make a mark on each person's heart the likes of which is unforgettable.

So my mission to live with that in mind and remember to give more than I receive is what makes me believe I have, am and will continue to leave a mark no matter where I go.  Again, this week, despite the tug and pull with doubt, I was reminded of my desire to be closer to my family.  And those I've touched, well, it will be a blessing for them to remember me and stay in touch. 

To the city I love, Chicago, my good friend *Susan sent me the best article for my birthday.  It came to her about the time she was deciding whether to move out of the city or not.  Much like this writer who left New York City for the wide-open spaces of Arizona, I may be confusing the heartbeat of the city with that of my own.  I love you but I can create my own heartbeat and energy wherever it is I go. 


A couple of updates:

• The Job Interview: She finally called last Monday to schedule an interview for 10a the next morning.  After not hearing from her and working to track down her phone number, I called her at 10:25 and left a message.  It took her three days to get back to me.  She did apologize and asked to reschedule.  I have yet to hear back from her per my email....So far, I'm not impressed with them, but it's an interview.  I was reminded by a friend that I should have no problem interviewing because I'm always pitching new business, and myself.  
• The SHOES - a couple of you wanted to know the overall effect of my "Tone and Walks".  Well, they're comfortable for sure, but as much as I wear them, I can't tell if they're making a difference. It is an uphill battle, though.  They have to compete with wine....
• Love life - pretty dead right now, since I've decided to be selfish and really focus on me.  I'm still open to any opportunities, but believe me, if a guy wants to go out with me, he'll fucking call!  I can only say that, sadly, it's up to lip slut to have fun and the fact I'm not meeting "the one" or anyone resembling him is based solely on my current goals.

Go out and give!  Love is the greatest gift we have to give to one another and it will come back.

xoxo

Ham in My Pants

Well, no surprise.  Somehow those 10 L.B.S. I was supposed to concentrate on losing over the summer turned in to 10 L.B.S. EARNED!  Really, it's my fault.  I wasn't motivated or just a little lazy this year.  (Trust me, if you need an excuse to not work out I've got about 1000 of them).  So, with one of my best friend's wedding encroaching in just a mere few days, I decided it was time to do something.  Nothing like waiting until the last possible hour of desperation to drop some weight. 

I recently purchased a pair of those Champion Stride 'n Tones from one of my secret places to buy shoes.  No, don't ask me where.  I won't tell you.  If I told you it WOULDN'T be a SECRET, now would it?  Bribe me all you want...well, depends on how good the bribe is...but...I digress.  I got the shoes for a steal, really a steal, because who wants to spend $75+ on a pair of shoes that may or may not give me the rockin' ass and legs I see on the TV model, who clearly hasn't worked to be fit her entire life.  Seriously, a trial is needed before serious investment.

Monday I took them for a stroll.  I was kind of stressed (don't act surprised) and decided to close up biz at 4:30 and go for a four+ mile walk to the lakefront, down and back.  At first I thought that two hams were fighting for possession of my ass with each step.  Then I realized, sigh, that it was really the fact that I had a full ham attached to each ass cheek and they bumped up and down as I walked - it's even worse when you're a fast walker like myself.  Still, I kept the faith that these shoes would indeed do what the marketing ploy says they will (Damn marketers!  Wait that's me)  So, I turned up the mp3 and just kept going hoping that no one would catch site of the delicatessen I was packing in my pants.  If only they were spiral hams and just fell apart as I walked....yeah, this is what I was thinking as I walked.

Believe it or not, after a while I started to feel the muscles in my quads and butt tighten a bit.  Even think my sad pathetic excuse for a core was positively effected as well.  I also noticed that the hams on my ass felt tighter as well - less flagrant bouncing up and down and more like they'd finally managed to be tamed.  OMG, my shoes are the ASS WHISPERER!

Since then I've attempted to make sure they're on my feet at all times, sans professional meetings downtown.  Slip on, slip off.  While like all things in life, there is no magic bullet to getting in shape, it takes, ugh, work, I am feeling rather good about my odds in the next couple of months.  If I don't take this off it's going to suddenly double over the winter months when all you can do in Chicago is eat and watch movies.  Baby, it's cold outside!

Maybe the BFF is right.  I should have just Lip Slutted my way to the flu and not eaten for a week!

xo

Freaky Tuesday Horoscope

My personal horoscope today  Scary...

"Has what used to be shiny and exhilarating become lackluster? Is your love life leaving much to be desired? Has your social calendar become sparse? Is your career at a low point? There's always something you can do to make any dull aspect of your life sparkle again! Jupiter is square Pluto, ushering in an intense, provocative energy. You want to renew your passion." 

This last weekend a client bounced a check that had a snowball effect.  That's IT!  I can't do this anymore.  I'm exhausted.  I wake up every morning and take a risk and that's about all the energy I have left for any other risks in life.  So, I've officially applied for a job and now applying for a lecture position that I think I am perfect for.  It's time to diversify and stop letting other factors determine my outcome.  Let's just hope they're gentle with the background check.  My credit blows.  But as my gf, Susan*, said "everybody's credit is shot and I guarantee you're still better off than many other people," which is probably very true, I just hate my reality.

It's time to sparkle again.  To be audacious once more!

Road Rash..I'm on the IR

Damn it!  I was so excited to finish work early and got on a two-hour rollerblade work out, with a 30-minute stop lakeside.  I mean I was really ready to put in 10 miles.  And now, I'm on the IR.

Everything was going great.  I felt great.  Had my cute workout outfit on, it's cloudy and about 75 degrees.  Perfect!  I was taking my regular route (note to the City of Chicago: exactly how long does it take you to fucking tear up a street and repave it?  Apparently more than three weeks) and I inched myself carefully across a half torn up street and cruised downhill towards the lakefront.  Now, I don't normally take the South side of the street all the way down but the North side, near Lake Shore Drive, gets a little dicey - Hey Chicago!  Fix the fucking sidewalks! Nothing ever gets done around here!  Where exactly is my tax money going?  Oh, that's right, apparently every city worker is skimming off the top cuz they think they deserve it.  Foolish me.  Of course you  DON'T.  Fuckers!

Anyhoo...I took the South side and there's a small part of the sidewalk that intersects with a gravel running path. Apparently, they can't fucking clean up the sidewalk.  I saw it; I knew it and knowing I've been through it before foolishly thought "no problem".   Let's just say that gravel and rollerblades don't mix.  It's like rollerblading and grass.  You stop.  Almost immediately.

So, with rush hour traffic piling up off Lake Shore Drive, I fearlessly approach the gravel and suddenly realize it's worse than usual.  It's everywhere, and...it's deep.  Too late...I plow into the gravel, stop within inches and take a dive forward as if I'm on a Slip 'n Slide, except there was no water and I....just....stopped. Next thing I know, water bottle flies out of my mini backpack, mp3 goes for a dive in the gravel and I'm spread eagle in shitload of gravel.  I looked like fucking Superman trying to fly across a gravel pit that Lex Luther set out as a trap.  Fucker! 

The nicest older couple EVER were approaching and saw the entire thing.  Can you believe, that as many people were on that sidewalk, and so-called-running-path, that they were clearly the only decent human beings to stop and ask me if I was okay?  I'm beginning to think that Chicagoans aren't nearly as friendly as we like to believe- not to mention the fact I have neighbors who are dicks and never say "Hi" in return.  We've truly become a city of non-Midwestern imports who don't give a fuck about anyone else.

Anyhoo...lovely couple conversation:

Woman: Oh, sweetheart, are you okay?
Me: Yeah, I know gravel and rollerblading don't mix but I've made it through before.  I should have known better and taken it slow.
Man: Look, what a shame that you ruined a good pair of pants (referring to the destroyed left-knee of my pants)
Me: Oh, it's okay, I've had them forever, but they are my favorite.
Man: Well, at least you can replace them.  Can I help you up? 
Me: Thank you so much, you know most people wouldn't do anything
Man: That's because this city has lost its Midwestern-ness.  All these people come in from all over the world and don't know how to be, well, human like we do
Me: I agree.  I was born and raised in the plains and that's why I chose to move here.  I'm constantly surprised on how little anyone ever thinks of anyone here.
Man: It's a shame.  Wasn't like this since recently and we've been here for 45 years.
Me: Yeah
Woman: Are you okay to get home?  Do you have a car nearby or live nearby?
Me: Thank you but no.  I'm a little over a mile away.
Woman: Well, are you okay to get home?
Me: I bet this will feel like nothing until I get home.
Man: Well, pop a pill and few shots of something warm and you'll be set.
Me:  LOL  You're brilliant!
Man: Well, it looks like nothing is injured but your pride.
Me: Eh, pride, schmide!
Man/Woman:  LOL
Me:  Thanks again, have a great weekend.

It's true, you know.  I've never been one of those people who falls down, takes a nose dive, or whatever and gets embarrassed about it.  Really, I don't.  Seriously?  All those people in your cars sitting at the light watching the scene unfold wish you could rollerblade because it's such a good work out.  And by the way, no one's perfect!  Besides, the athlete in me kind of likes the big ass strawberry on my knee.  Call it a war wound.  There's pride in it.  I'm trying to do something others see as extreme, even though it really isn't.  I love it.  Ouch!  Maybe not at the moment, but yeah....it's pretty cool.  Damn, no skirts or dresses for weeks!

After checking to make sure all the body parts worked and the wounds were mostly superficial (I may have to pick gravel out of my hands later), I turned around and headed back home.  The knee hurt at first and then felt great.  I almost thought, for a moment, that I should turn around and take my battle-wounded ass up the lakefront to complete the mission I'd started.  Eh, go home.

Now, I am sitting with wounds washed and bandaged, having a glass, or five, or wine hoping the drugs will kick in soon.  It's really like road rash, but worse.  Gravel actually gets under your skin! Just as planned I will spend my Friday night catching up with Mad Men On Demand (don't judge! Everyone likes to stay in on weekend nights sometimes.  Shutup!).  What I really need is a boy toy, a nurse's aid to cook me dinner, make sure my wine glass is always full, kisses my boo-boos and helps me relax. 

Unfortunately, now, I'm on the injured reserve with no prospect of getting back in the game for the next five days.  Man, I was going to kick some major calories rollerblading this week.  As everyone else does in this town, I blame it all on the City of Chicago.  Hey, you think I gotta case?

The White Dress Lifted the Fog

It's amazing how the right dress can put you in the mood to feel beautiful and successful.

It's been awhile since I've had a real business meeting, and today was one of those days.  Seriously, why do you think I needed to get pretty on Sunday?  It's been awhile.  I work from home - currently in army green shorts and my orange UT shirt (my BFF, Dawn*, and I had a, well, memorable trip to Austin...Bugtussle!).

It was fucking hot and muggy here!  The kind of day when you walk out of the house and wonder why you even bothered showering.  The right clothing is crucial in this weather. So, today I braved wearing my favorite white linen, brocade, sleeveless roped empire waist, white dress with black slings with white flower on the toe to a new business meeting with two new male clients.  I say braved because I'm one of those people who wears something white and even though I'm nowhere near an Italizn restaurant, somehow I still end up getting something bright red dribbled down the front.  This is the same with white shirts, skirts, pants and shorts.  I can be standing, not touching anything and will still get a mark or stain the size of Texas on my white clothes.

I guess you could say I needed a little, for lack of a better reference, Sex & The City mojo today.  After all, I'm in my mid-30's, I'm not dead, fairly attractive and nothing says confident, successful business woman like a great outfit. It worked!  It totally lifted me out of my fog.

It's times like this when I love walking around the busseling streets of downtown Chicago.  In fact, I was right down by the set of Transformers.  Interesting to see how they do what they do to make a city looked demolished. 

So, it's interesting, however, that I've discovered over the years that there's real psychology behind the way you dress.  For instance, with woman, depending on the business, I either dress nice casual or pump up the accessories with an all black or blue outfit.  With men, I typically wear pants and heels, always.  It sort of says "don't think of me as a fragile woman, but one of the guys".  Yes, I did wear a dress (I said it was hot and gross here), but the right dress can say exactly what you need it to in any occasion.  It's all in how accessorize.

Yes, I've officially won the business (the second in a month), and, more importantly, I'm not worrying about whether more business will come or not.  I'm just open to receiving everything that is meant to be given me.  Ten points for Epiphany! It's pretty freeing.  The dress too...from the stifling humidity.

Bad Man Joo-Joo

In starting this blog, I promised that I was going to live my truth.  It's a harsh one.  One that I've been slowly realizing more and more over the last few years.  And, there is one thing that must be known about me and what has made me, well, me.  It's hard to put out into the world but my parents' marriage has had a huge impact on my life. 

When my parents got married, it was a different time.  I have no doubt of my father's love for my mother, but my mom, growing up not really knowing what love is and verbal abuse, I can't say she feels the same.  I've always known deep down that theirs was a marriage of necessity.  My mom was 28 and considered an Old Maid.  After having her engagement cut off by another man, she did what she was supposed to, and my grandmother was not happy.  She never liked my father, and, in turn, her grandchildren, us, we got the brunt. 

When you grow up with this as your model, it's hard to determine what a relationship is really supposed to be like.  My father, the typical man of the 50's and 60's worked hard to provide for his family, came home, threw back a couple of Coors Lights, and went to bed.  He is a difficult and challenging man, no doubt out of necessity from the way he grew up - his father left when he was a year old.  He was a stone cold wall.  The only emotions I ever saw from him were laughter or anger.  For a long time growing up, I thought men didn't have emotions like women.  That they couldn't feel hurt.  I was stunned to learn that when I broke up with one boyfriend (quite carelessly looking back) that he was really hurt and crying on the phone.  It hit me then that men could actually feel something.  I've always regretted that one.

When I was 17, my mother picked me up from school and told me she was divorcing my father.  I talked her out of it.  They went to counseling, actually she went a lot and my dad went once.  Although I'm happy they stayed together, I carried around regret for talking my mom out of it for a long time.  It wasn't until recently when I came clean to her about my feelings and she told me it was her choice.

Today, I see my parents and understand that they are roommates who take care of one another, and maybe that's what ends up happening when you get older.

The biggest issue for me, and Sister1, is my father.  A hard man, arrogant, egotistical and introverted.  All he does is talk about himself and he throws tantrums when you talk back to him, correct him or even sometimes joke with him.  He's never a listener, unless you really need serious advice, and he talks....incessantly.  It's all about him, all of the time, and whether that was what he became after a tough childhood, hasn't been fully confirmed. With that said, he is a very generous and thoughtful man.  He was, and is still, good to us.  He's just very challenging to love. And I don't even know if I do love him that way.  He's just there. The older he gets, the worse he feels and the more he resembles a very grumpy old man.  This is what I know.

As a young girl, I, like my sisters, were raised to be strong, well-educated, independent women who could take care of themselves should we end up divorced.  We would have good jobs, not take anyone's crap and live life with confidence.  They certainly instilled that, but the marks he's left on us are deeper than those lessons learned.  It is ever-present in more than just DNA.  Because of the way we were raised, I was always strong-willed.  I wanted to do what I wanted to do because they told me things were possible.  Boy, did Pop and I go to blows....a lot.  And the one thing you feared the most was his disappointment.  In fact, it still lingers in me today.  It's something I've tried to let go of, meditate to rid my energy of, yet it continues to work its way back in.  It suppresses me, my creativity, the freedom to have my own life.  It's every decision I make, everything I do must be something I think he'd approve of.  It's a totally fucked up way of living.  I know!  But, at least I'm aware.  Today, at least I can say that I'm practicing ignoring him and controlling how I react to him.  That's all I can do.


It's not like I don't have positive relationship models today.  I do. However, the fear inside me that I will meet someone like him, settle for someone who I don't want to be with long-term...it's real.  And, it's a lasting impression of what I see regularly.  It took me a long time to understand that this is part of the reason I choose men who are or become unavailable.  The other is thanks to a really bad choice of men when I was 18 who can't seem to get the hint nearly 20 years later that I want nothing to do with him.

I guess I got bad man joo-joo.  And no matter how many times I try to exorcise it, it finds its way back.  

I also think that I have "I don't trust you", "I don't believe you" or "I am not emotionally healthy" written in neon lights on my forehead.  Part of my Finding Epiphany is to once and for all let go of how I feel others think of me; to trust and believe in love - cuz I see it happen for so many everyday - and know that I deserve to be loved and adored by someone.  Believe it or not, I'm not sold 100% on marriage for me, but that's probably because I haven't met anyone, or dated someone long enough, with that potential.  I don't want to be ashamed of bringing someone home to meet my father anymore - he doesn't define me.  I don't want to be afraid that someone will leave me because of my father.  I don't want to push away men anymore because it's safe.  I want to be happy again and leave all of this behind me.

Shadows of Ghosts

Last night I went to see the B52's at Ravinia on the North Shore of Chicago. It was Gay BF's office party and a total blast.  I was confused how many people came and then left before the concert even began.  What, like you have to work today?  We stayed until the end and it was a late, late night, which is why I'm pounding a Red Bull this morning (yawn).

Ravinia is one of those places where you can either buy seats or sit on the lawn.  We were on the lawn and his company had a mad spread of food and wine and beer.  Naturally, I immediately parked myself in front of the gal serving wine.  It's really a beautiful place, and a romantic one, at that.

Somewhere I've forgotten about love and how to have it.  As I people stalked, I saw couples everywhere talking, laughing, kissing, being...in love.  It kind of sucked.  The loneliness must be setting in.  I so want what they're sharing, but for some reason it alludes me.  Whether its my past, which includes a pyscho ex, the screwed up fact that I thought men had no emotions because I never had a role model in my father or that I'm afraid of settling for an unhappy marriage like someone I love dearly.  Whatever it is, I look around me and people are achieving love daily, except me.  I just meet flirts who ask me out and after figuring out I'm not going to sleep with them decide never to call again; or they cheat and lie.  Seriously?

This morning when I was working myself out of my groggy state, cursing myself for being so disciplined to actually get up and work, I thought about this all again.  I feel like I am now one of those single 30-somethings that people look at and feel sorry for.  I do see it in their eyes and I hate it.

To make matters worse, I have a reunion coming up next year.  I am hoping to have my status, and life, change by then, but I'm losing faith that it will. I may just be alone, struggling for the rest of my life and that makes me sad.  I don't want to go through life alone.  I want a companion to share life with, to laugh, argue and have rough times that result in reaffirming love.  Or, I suppose I can just stick to one of two plans, one of which is to end everything here, pick up and move far away, start over with something new and accept that I will be alone. (Btw - the itch to quite, move and start over is pretty palpable, but I'd like a door or two to open before just doing it)

Now, I'm very well aware that I'm not actually alone.  I have amazing friends, family and some super cool new blogger friends who j'adore!  However, there's a whole in my heart that those relationships can't fulfill (yes, male parts in all of the beauty are quite essential as well).  I'm tired of searching, waiting, wanting and wondering why this was the path chosen for me.

Maybe...maybe I should just be a big 'ol hooker and get it on with all the flirts I encounter and say "to HELL with it!"

In an eerie way, I feel that I am living the life of a great aunt who never married, really never wanted a companion and died alone in her 60's before I was born.  My grandmother used to mistake me for her when I'd sing or because I was fashionable like her.  She actually called me Helen* all the time.  When her dementia kicked in that's all she called me.  It's as if she believed Helen was reincarnated in me, and I've lived with that ghost for my entire life.  Where once I believed it to be a compliment, may now actually be a curse - it's funny the tricks our minds play on us. 

But is it possible?  Am I really destined to follow her same path?  Am I living (or reliving)  in the shadow of this ghost or can I still reclaim my life and get what I want without settling?

A Flirt: The Neighbor

About a year ago, my neighbor and I made out. He's younger (uhm, FINE! 25. He's 25! At least I'm not going to jail for it) and adorable. He was a terrible kisser but a little instruction and we were good. Again, he's sssoooo cute and adorable.

What I love about guys in their 20's is what I love about guys in their late 30's-early 40's. In their 20's-30's you can imagine what that baby face is going to look like at 40. It may take men longer to grow into themselves, but it's highly worth it and let me tell you, The Neighbor is going to be a super hottie! For right now, he is a load of fun to flirt with and....

So, last night I was trying to be good, getting perfect and ready for a crazy day of events, and I heard all of my neighbors out front. I say,"Sure I can go hang with them for a bit and be asleep by 10:30p." HA! I went down to hang out and let my nails dry without thinking I have a big, HUGE nasty red pimple on my face that is not fit or public consumption - I had washed my face earlier to treat the little fucker with the hope that it might disappear before this morning. That, of course, wasn't the case. Once you remember something like that you start to rest your chin in your hand until you just say "Fuck it!" and keep having fun. My neighbors and I have, for the most part, seen each other at our unshowered-messy-bedhead-unshaven-worst, and while I like to try and look presentable at all times, sometimes you just forget. Oddly enough, it must have been the alcohol or the pot he was smoking, but apparently I was lookin' good to him (doesn't hurt that the sun was setting. I always look better by candle and moonlight)!

I love to watch boys flirt - with me, of course. Some make it SO obvious that it's fun to sit back and receive. The Neighbor is one of those. Sooner or later there was a "come up and check out what they did to my apartment" (make out session - MUCH improved!); "would you like some wine? come up I'll get you a glass" (make out session); and finally the "can you show me where your bathroom is" which led to full on make out session and...more fun. However, me being a stickler that I am, not too much fun was had cuz I had to get up super early. (HEY! At my age, we need our beauty sleep!) Plus, why not save something for a rainy day - in the forecast soon.

It's been some time, I will admit, since I've had this kind of attention and...fun. It's not that I haven't been looking, it's just that The Neighbor is really only fun, whereas I'm looking for a relationship. A lasting one. Someone to have fun with all the time. I'm tired of this transient-lover BS. I want one to stay. Nonetheless, it was MUCH needed fun to remind me of the simple pleasure that is a man. Stay tuned for that rainy day.

The List: My Own Take 1

Dear Diane*,

I love and miss you and know that you and hubby are working on very important things like making babies, however, would really like to talk and discuss the list. Don't leave me hangin' babe! LOL Until you and hubby have completely exhausted one another, I will move forward with my own synopsis of the list one by one.

Love,
E


The first item on the list of things that make me happy is music. I love music. It's what makes the blood flow through my veins. I love to sing and used to a great deal of performing. I equally love to dance, and appreciate all kinds of music....even some rap, but not for the lyrics as much as the beats, rhythms and...sounds. It just makes me so....happy.

This week I've been working on a CD mix (remember Mix Tapes? I was the Master!) for friend's party. I looovveeedd working on it. Picking the music then selecting the order - there really are rules to this in order to make it sound just right. Every song flows easily into the next as if they were made to be played alongside one another. And, of course, you have to set the tone for the occasion. The best part, is handing the CD over, wrapped and tied with a bow (the most inexpensive, thoughtful gift, I think, you can give anyone) and waiting for the moment they slide it into the CD player. The moments of anticipation just tick away until the first song is played. Then "I love this song" gooshes from the recipient as the CD continues. Music brings such happiness and people love my CDs because they know I made it just for them.

I miss it. I miss singing. I miss writing music and lyrics. I miss performing. I was given a gift and have done relatively nothing with it. Sure, I've been given other gifts and talents, but this one....it makes me feel so alive.

During the day there are often times when I just have to sit down and zero in on getting a project done. It's during these times when I tune into my Jango.com account or rock out to my own play list. It gives me energy and I love everything about it from singing Gregorian chants and classical to rock and country. There's nothing like it. Nothing can feed my soul the way music does. And maybe, I sing on my own time and find a group, and maybe the rest of my life is spent appreciating the nuances in music that others don't catch and teach them about it - hopefully without looking like the big nerdy musical geek that I am.

It's the tops on the list so I know one thing - I've got to find away to sing and release that desire to do so pent up inside of me. I don't really care much about being a famous musician, rather I've always thought of my gift as an instrument to share incredible works of music for others to enjoy. Maybe that's being too modest (another thing I'm trying to give up - love my fam but not so grateful to have been raised SO MODEST! A little "I'm really great" never hurt anyone), but it is something I do believe as a musician. Others, just do it to feed their ego. I was pretty comfortable with myself to begin with and compliments...well, I'm still learning to be appreciative.

I'm hoping that this list doesn't now lead to creating another list for each item on the list. What did I just say? Yeah. While lists are my sanity in day-to-day life, I think more lists will just overwhelm and shut me down! Until my next post in a few days, I am going to try and sing more, even if it's just in my shower, which has great acoustics!

Quote of the Day

Thanks to the BFF for this one:

"Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky." ~Rabindranath Tagore

Romance - Dead, a Fairytale or Just Me?

I am a delinquent blogger. The Fourth of July weekend kind of kicked my ass, and after some catch up on all the things I was supposed to do over the weekend and finally feeling like I won't have a narcoleptic attack, I'm back to reporting the craziness that is my life.

Monday I saw the new Twilight movie, and I must say the anticipation was killing me. The love story presented in these novels is, well, a fairy tale, for sure, but I often wonder what happened to a generation of men. My generation of men. Call me old fashioned, but there's something about the previous generations' dating sociology of men and women that has its appeal. What happened? Internet porn, women's lib or just the Internet in general?

I may be a confident, independent woman, but I still like traditionalism in dating. Meaning, I want to be courted. Is that so ridiculous? My friends tell me that I'll be waiting forever. Don't get me wrong, I do attract plenty of flirts (men) and have asserted myself only to be turned down. Quantity isn't my problem. It's quality. And quality might not even be my problem. It may just be me. Me and this antiquated idea of romance and relationships. Some say I'm impossible - a dreamer with a child-like fantasy of Cinderella, Prince Charming and Hollywood movie endings.

It's different living in a city where people are transient and the single lifestyle is encouraged by a number of nightclubs with scantily clad dancers and babes at the beach. Everyone's looking for....greener grass. It's as if they don't want to settle down because they think something better is coming along. Or, it's commitment phobia. I must admit that the men older than me who have never been married raise a big, and I mean HUGE, flag for me for this very reason. Did they wake up at 50 and suddenly realize they're not 35 and will die alone? Sure, throw some money around and buy yourself a 25-yr old wife and 2.5 kids. You think I'm joking. Happens all the time here.

It's not like this where I grew up - a smallish Midwestern town. Men know how to treat a woman and coupledom is desired for more than just one night. Men are guy's guys. In fact, I would say I've met more flirts with potential outside of Chicago than in over 10 years here. So, I wonder, why does urban living breed this mentality in not just men, but also women. Is it because you can walk into a bar, meet someone, get their number, leave, go to another bar, meet someone else (repeat and rinse), and then decide who you will call? That's kind of bullshit, especially because so many men believe that they deserve to be with a supermodel (uhm, btw, that's like .001 of the fem population and, NEWS FLASH, you're not Tom Brady,a Kennedy or Leonardo DiCaprio).

I meet flirts everywhere but it's always so superficial. Few have turned into more than a one-night stand or even gotten to a third date. (I know a one-night stand isn't much of a fairytale. More of a means to an end for a 30-something's raging hormones). Sadly, many, I feel, have never wanted to get to know me. It was more of a "were going to this party so dress up, I'll pick you up at 8p and flash that smile for the boys I work with". Even more sad is how long it took me to catch on to this pattern. And, the concept of Internet dating doesn't make it any easier.

As someone who works from home, I don't have the luxury of an office of individuals willing to invite me to parties or introduce me to their friends (not to negate my fab friends). I'm out on my own. And while I make an effort to get out and about, Internet dating was an easy option for me. Surprise! Many of the sites revealed men who say they're looking for their life partner, but in reality they use it as their own personal sex, eerrr, dating service to line up a variety of dates or sex for the week. Maybe it's because my generation is the first to really feel the plague of divorce. When you don't have a good relationship model, it's kind of hard to learn how to develop a relationship with someone. (Hmmm...note to self. Possible personal consideration)

Now, women are not innocent here, either. I'm constantly surprised by the number of women willing to completely disrespect and throw themselves at men. Duh, when you send a guy naked pictures of yourself, of course he's going to call. He thinks you're E-A-S-Y! That's not the start to a potentially lasting relationship, that's the start to a friend with benefits and late night drunk booty text messages. I have this sinking feeling that no one wants to work for anything anymore.

As for me, with a dating highway littered with love, screw ups, bad choices, and even BIGGER bad choices, a crazy psycho ex (who still won't leave me alone after almost 20 years), it's no surprise that I am my own worst problem. I am the perfect saboteur of my love life, scared of making another bad choice, comfortable being alone than in a shitty or disappointing relationship, and having that information blaring like a neon sign on my forehead - "Damaged goods. Leave me alone. Too scared to open up." Pick one...it's probably a rotating sign at this point in my life.

All I know is that recently I've taken some real risks in this department. One flirt - known forever, totally like but is very long distance and well, he hasn't responded to my email saying I miss chatting. (NEXT) Second flirt - a cutie from Minnesota who made moves on ME, I really connected with and asked to lunch the next day only to get the "there's someone back home." Clearly none of my approaches have been well received, but you have to start somewhere when you're trying to escape Never, Never Land.

Step One: A List (the first of many)

The one good thing about knowing a lot of people is that one of them has gone through exactly what you're going through, and has survived to be the one person to hold your hand through it. That's Diane*. My fabulous Harvard JD turned professor gal pal.

We met about 10 years ago while in a performance group together. You can't not adore Diane. And the best part is, she used to live in her head like I am living in my head. Thoughts fluttering all around giving way to self-doubt and a desire to runaway from it all (no one's jumping off a bridge here - but headed back to my hometown for safety doesn't seem like a bad idea). Here's the difference, she conquered and came out the other end with the life of her dreams.

Since she moved to the west coast, Diane and I really haven't spoken as much. Thank goodness for Facebook. What a life jacket to friendships around the world! Friends who once seemed lost are found, and I can read what Diane is up to everyday. It's great. So, when I called her unfortunately it didn't seem we had too much to catch up on...(Facebook), but I dug my heals in and told her.....my truth.

I mentioned she's been through this, right? The gal had a phat job at a Chicago firm, an adorable condo, quit it all for the west coast where she knew no one, is a law professor on track for tenure, found her amazing life partner, a dog and hopefully, soon, a bouncing baby. She had a lot to say to me, and I'm sure there will be more to come, but for now, the list....

Diane's first recommendation to me is to create a list of 10 things that make me happy. 10 things! That's like a list of 1000 cut to 10. I'm guessing that eating chocolate chip cookie dough while sitting in a hot bath or a glass of wine (or three) after a long day isn't going to make the list. Along with the fact that I could lay by the lake for hours in the shade just watching the clouds. On with it...

The 10 Things That Make Me Happy (in no particular order)

1. Music
2. Writing
3. Consulting/teaching
4. Yoga/Rollerblading
5. Animals
6. Traveling
7. Volunteering/helping others
   
8. Connecting people
9. Entertaining
10. Being creative - sewing, etc.

I can say I do much of this already (because it makes me happy! duh), but deciphering it to find the answers I am seeking is another thing. This is the first step in reclaiming my life and finding my epiphany.

What's on your list?