Archive for March, 2011

A stressful 3 months, a new found experiment in cheese making, and winter combined to give me a cheese top, not nearly as flattering as a muffin top. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I have some insane complex about my body now. I’m a chubby sized 6, versus a trimmer sized 4. It’s all good, but, why not use spring as an excuse to do some physical spring cleaning? So, for the next 30 days, or essentially for the month of April, I am walking away from coffee and switching to green tea, I am cutting out the sugar, the processed foods (not that I eat many of those to begin with, but ocassionally those Amy’s Gluten Free frozen meals are easy. ), and I am committing myself to daily workouts. In order to successfully say I lived up to my challenge, I need to complete a minimum of atleast 30 minutes of cardio & or strength training everyday. A yoga class counts. Sex does not. Unless its particularly acrobatic and I’m on top.

In order to make myself even more committed to this,  to put the owness on me to complete this, otherwise you will all be greatly dissappointed in me, I am submitting my weight (oh, the horror!) and my measurements (oh, whatever!). Each day I will report in with my progress and each week I will include my updated measurements. Wish me luck everyone!

weight: 143

bust: 36

chest: 33

waist: 30.5

hips: 39





upper arms:12

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That is what I was called yesterday. The text came through midday, nonchalant, while I was in the midst of my workday. The text made no mention of last Tuesday night.

Last Tuesday was supposed to be our big sitdown, Type Geek and I. We were going to talk about my feelings for him, my hopes for us, what it was all about. In the end, we had what turned into an amazing evening, perhaps one of the best dates we had ever had, some of the best sex, only it wasn’t a date. Or was it?

I decided that I wouldn’t contact him, that he needed to make the move towards me. Think of me and reach out. So, I kept myself busy, with work, with food, and when that didn’t help, I shopped for gardening supplies. Midday Monday I received a text saying,” Hey, Tiger.” Small talk.

He was having a great Monday at work and his niece had her baby over the weekend and he told me that he is now avoiding the family compound because of his innate dislike for the amorphous creatures known as babies. Until they become people, he doesn’t know how to deal with them, so he avoids them. Other than that, no comments about what happened. About how his ,”No!”, became a maybe, became asking me to dinner, and to stay the night, then, to be intimate with him. I believe he might be one of those men who substitute action for a dialogue. Cautiously optimistic, I am allowing him a safe clean slate with which to act upon. I am still talking to other men, but I am remaining open to possibilities.

As I walked home last night, I noticed marks on the sidewalk, gum perhaps. One of them stood out and I began thinking about some of the things my friends and readers have been saying regarding this whole Type Geek thing. Rationalizing is a bad thing, excusing human behavior is a bad thing and allowing others to be as complicated and flawed as we are is a bad thing.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean to disregard my friends concerns. I appreciate their concern and support, however, I have been considering lately that perhaps the reason why many relationships fail is that we spend too much time in the ego and emotion of the love, rather than in the reality of what it is. Two flawed and imperfect people navigating messy existences in a complicated world and trying to find a connection and understanding so as to be a little less lonely.

So, I allow that people may not always react as we would, or as we would like, when under stress, when in unknown situations, when terrified of the greyness of possibilities. I consider whether I would like someone to offer me the same. I am a great person, and I come with baggage. Type Geek is a great person and he comes with baggage. Is it possible that we may be able to combine some of our luggage, in order to lighten our collective loads? Is it possible that we won’t? Could I be wrong? Definitely. Is it also possible that this might be a great love story, one of perseverance, trust, faith and unconditional love? That is also a possibility, albeit perhaps a smaller one from the view on the sidelines.

I don’t ask anyone to understand why. I just ask that you consider what you would do if you met someone who stopped your breath. How you would react if you woke up one morning knowing that this man or woman was the one you wanted to be old with. I don’t fall in love easily. I do, however, regret deeply. I don’t want Type Geek to be a regret of what if. I’d rather have heartache and experience, footprints on my soul, and in the end, be able to say, I tried. I love myself enough to allow myself the possibility that Type Geek could be the greatest love of my life, and that I deserve to experience that fully, even if it isn’t easy, even if it hurts sometimes, because hearing him call me Sugar, or kiss me on the forehead as I lay with my head on his chest in bed, his scent in my lungs, those moments are the moments we will remember when we die, not the missed calls, or sudden business trips.

This may turn painful, love often does, but, there might be another ending to this story. I won’t know until I get there.

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This time of year leaves me restless. Feeling like I am in limbo. Neither warm enough to run around flaunting my cuteness or cold enough to sit in cozy bars and lament the winter. It is as if some great force above has the remote and hit pause. 

Meanwhile…. I continue to recieve messages on OkCupid such as this:


// Mar 28, 2011 – 1:19pm

I don’t want to date you. I just wanted to say hi. I like your glasses. I’m not nearly as inept as my message to you might imply. I sometimes am a very good communicator. I like your glasses a lot. I have a feeling you’re pretty nice to know. I might like to know you. I have a feeling you wouldn’t like to know me since I don’t have a profile filled out. I could give you reasons as to why that’s the case. I keep starting each sentence with “I”. I hope that doesn’t pause to consider me an egomaniac. I just like the letter “I”. It’s short and to the point. I have a feeling you might think I’m peculiar and odd, yet wonderfully cute and silly. I don’t know.


26% Enemy 79% Friend 65% Match Message from …. (perhaps I should respect his privacy)

Does this approach usually work for him?

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