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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

midway:36.5

thighs:24

knees:16

calves:14.5

upper arms:12

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Tiger.

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:

Hi

// 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.

Hi.

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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Mojo is finicky. It comes when it wants to, without warning or cause. It leaves just as suddenly. In the last 5 days I have had people comment on how something looks different, a cloud looks lifted, an energy that was reinvigorated. Everyone is waiting for the other shoe to drop. I understand. A colleague of mine made a half joke that she reads the blog in order to see what my mood will be when she sees me, so that she can decide how to be the friend I need that day. She has trepidations, at best, about Type Geek and what transpired last week. I remain cautiously optimistic, yet realistic. I have not heard from him yet, however I had stated early after the incident that I suspected I wouldn’t hear from him until Monday, at the earliest. With his brother’s health struggles and current family drama including a great-niece who is due to be born any day, I assumed that his weekend would be spent with his family in the suburbs. Meanwhile, my taste buds are alive again. Tuesday night woke them up and suddenly I found that I once again had my muse, albeit temporarily. In the last 24 hours, I crafted the bits and pieces of what became the most inspired meal of mine to date. A latin inspired rare steak with layers of heat that made my mouth dance a merengue from the trio of chiles. In the end, I am not sure what is going to happen, but until there are answers, there is food.

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Since Type Geek and I didn’t actually discuss anything about us during our sitdown that turned into date with sex, I’m biting my tongue and trying to keep my mind off of him and us as much as possible. Obviously, I need to come back to him for this post, but I am considering the option that perhaps his not talking, is a better sign than if he actually did rationalize and dissect everything. Perhaps his actions and decisions of that night and the following morning, state more about how he feels about me than any discussion could have. Actions speak louder than words, correct?

I believe it is important to allow him the next move. To allow him to digest that after so many no’s, he made the tiny decisions on Tuesday night to change course, rather than having our discussion, rather than initiating our talk, he chose, after we sat for an hour talking around the elephant in the room, to ask me to dinner, then, hours later, after laughter and discussions on his musical career, his design career, and the history of hip hop, he chose to ask me if I would stay the night. He chose to reach over in the night and ask me to snuggle, then he initiated sex. I did not want the later argument that I had ever coerced or tricked him into getting back together. I merely showed up looking stunning,  I smiled and flirted with cautious optimism. I was loving and open to whatever might occur. I didn’t assume or expect that we would end up in bed, but I waxed just in case. A smart girl is a prepared girl.

So, what now? I’m waiting to call my newest culinary venture and find out if I am working this evening, and if not, I am signing up for a 30 day trial membership at the local Boston Sports Club and opting to workout my body when my mind is bending me inside and out regarding Type Geek. In 30 days, I may have a newly revived love affair with Type Geek, or not, but I will most certainly have a more fit body. With so many things that I have no control over, this is one that I do.

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Do things ever happen that make you scratch your head and go, WTFJUSTHAPPENEDCAUSEIMNOTSURE? This happened last night…into this morning. The sit down talk with Type Geek? Turned into one of the best dates we have ever had, as well as some of the best sex we have ever had. Catiously optimistic, no expectations, no assumptions, but JESUS! This may be the shortest post I have ever done, at under 100 words. But sometimes, what is left to say but … ?

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Over the last week, I have personally paid for the college education of one or more children of executives working for the Kleenex company. A scratchy throat turned head cold turned severe lung congestion almost turned pneumonia had made it a far less enjoyable week that I was hoping for. Gorgeous weather plagued me at the end of the week, taunting me with activities I couldn’t be a part of because of how sick I was. Hours and days spent upright in bed while I drifted in and out of sleep in between periods of extreme coughing, screaming sinus headache pain, tearing eyes as if the Lifetime network did a Nora Ephron movie marathon the day before my period, and much nose blowing. By Thursday night my nose was multiple colors of raw and the chances of my scheduled Friday evening date with the English Prof actually happening, were erased with each hack and sniffle.

I awoke at 1 on Friday afternoon to the sun shining through my window and 69 degrees registering on the weather.com app from my mobile phone laying astride me in bed. Fresh air sounded like a fair solution to my cabin fever and also perhaps an answer to my breathing issues. So, I harnessed the pup and decided to wander off on a stroll. I had texted English Prof that it wasn’t  looking like a good idea for me to have a cocktail date night, as I was still quite ill. Turned out I was close to where he was, so he decided to meet up with my dog and I for some of our stroll.

An hour later, we met outside a local coffee shop and then decided to walk along the river, then through the square and then back up to my neighborhood. What was my opinion of him? He was nice enough. Armenian by descent, tall enough to not be dwarfed by me in heels, average build, blah blah blah. Why the blah blah blah? I find it disingenuous when someone showers you with flowery compliments and makes plans to go on road trips, over seas journeys, and weekend getaways, when they haven’t met you yet. He began his comments prior to our meeting, and after we parted ways he told me how pretty I was. Sick as a dog, pretty is the last thing I felt and honestly, while I looked ok, pretty is hardly the word I would have used. I just found it to be all a bit much.

I mentioned my wariness at his approach and he said, relax, I’m not on bent knee proposing, however this was his go to remark the other 2 times I voiced my discomfort with something he said. Always a dismissive, “I’m not on my knee declaring my love to you”, or “I’m not asking you to marry me, I just dig you”. Well, if a pattern of behavior isn’t working, if you are eliciting comments that it makes another uncomfortable, perhaps consider a new approach. Only, he doesn’t.

On my walk home from dropping him at the train, Type Geek texted me. Asking if I was around, I told him I was super sick. I wasn’t ready to deal with him that night.

The weekend was spent alternating between sleep or work. While I felt worse than I had all week, I was unable to get out of working and fed myself meds to make it through, then crashed hard and slept from the moment I walked in the door, until nearly an hour before I needed to work. I would wake to texts from English Prof ,”Hey Gorgeous,”, “Hey Beautiful”, “Hey Sexy, how are you feeling?” It wore me out, the accolades. I finally told him that I needed him to be… just a little less. Again,” I just dig you, I’m not proposing to you.” YAWN. It is obvious that he isn’t going to listen or adapt behavior to make me more comfortable.

Tonight is Tuesday. Tonight I have a 7 pm sit down with Type Geek. The first time I have seen him face to face in 3 months. I will show up, my chin quiveringfear and hope, love and lust, and faith… all of these present in my heart. I’m not sure how to end this post. I guess that this post’s ending is as open-ended as my sit down with Type Geek tonight.

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