Archive for April, 2011

I’m taking this chance to sneak a few minutes to write as I watch the children of a dear friend who is stuck at the airport in Japan waiting for his rebooked flight to depart, while his wife is hospitalized with pneumonia. Slightly disruptive to my work schedule, some things needed rearranging, but worth it to help a friend. Besides, I love these kids and the sunshine in their backyard and the fact that their playground is on a beach. Warm temps, cool sand in the toes, and the laughter of children makes up for any hassle or disruption to my schedule. 

Now, on to the topic at hand, OkCupid and the ridiculousness of it all. I barely go on now, mostly to read the trends or see what the most recent insanity that was sent to my inbox says. Which brings me to this. Why does a published photographer/photojournalist who is a swiss trained chef and currently renovating a property in Istanbul feel compelled to OkCupid message me not once…but twice in one evening? He told me I was his far more attractive doppelgänger, that we would have an interesting time chatting and that, oh yes, he forgot to mention that he is an ordained zen buddhist monk. Really? At some point a woman must say WTF. If you are a reasonably attractive 52-year-old man who is financially well off enough to travel the world and take up residence in other countries while working on international photo exhibitions and accompanying books, as you renovate your Turkish apartment to Dwell worthy standards… I find it HIGHLY unlikely that you are perusing OkCupid and deciding to chat with a 36-year-old hot financial mess of a woman in New England. Surely you can find a firm bodied 26-year-old lady friend to lavish with your tales of travel while feeding her vapid dollar hungry eyes your homemade Turkish Delight. Part of me is just having a wee issue buying the authenticity of such a profile.

Meanwhile, I’m enjoying seeing Type Geek roughly once a week or so. Sometimes sex, sometimes just curling up and sleeping together. His scent and the warmth of his body next to me has always felt like home. Not the home of my childhood, but the home of my future.

Also, I have been hanging out a bit with one of you readers, and I adore her. She has quickly become one of my favorite people and I am so glad I chose to cross that line from reader/writer to friends. The irony though, and reason I am bringing it up is hat she is now dating Doggie Daddy. He was only mentioned once, and I never actually met him, we just spoke several times via text and OkCupid chat regarding possibly meeting. This was during the time Type Geek and I were not together and I was trying to get him back, but believing he wouldn’t budge. I was looking for distraction, not actual connection. I had two “dates” during that time and they were both awful. Weak men who showed all their cards early and confessed feeling of insecurity about their ability to date me. That I was out of their league somehow. I find that incredibly unattractive. I’m attractive and I have done interesting things and I have tried and will try again to do interesting things, but this just makes me different, not better. Just different.

Anyway, Doggie Daddy… so, this woman, who will be nicknamed Poppy because of her love of Orange and her personality which is as hugely vibrant as an orange poppy flower and just as intoxicating as the seeds they contain, is dating him. We gathered for coffee recently and she invited DD to join us there as he was in the area. Meanwhile, both Poppy and I KNOW of the connection, and have laughed heartily over it, but neither of us had confessed to DD that I am the same girl he was chatting with on OkCupid or that we know. Us gals knew he would figure it out once he met me in person and he did, but only said something after Poppy had shown our hand while I was away from the table. It’s quite amusing I think. Upon meeting him I knew what I had already known, he was not my type and it would not have lasted more than one drink. They are so perfectly matched and adorable together. My type is a Type apparently. I am not sure that I will ever truly know what or why or how. I’m just glad that this Type is here and not in Istanbul or Constantinople.

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This time last week, Type Geek’s brother was slowly bleeding to death, kept alive by constant blood transfusions. His hospital has a dedicated out of the box thinker and suddenly his brother found himself with his own version of Gregory House, insane genius. Minus the drug addiction, limp, and snark. So, with a Hail Mary surgery that concluded with brother stuffed to the gills with self dissolving gauze, Dr. Not House was able to slow down the bleeding long enough to allow the body to start clotting on its own and retaining some of the blood being pumped into him. He is still in the hospital, he still has a huge upward battle, and a bigger war after this fight is won, but currently he is stable.

I felt defenseless. I love the Geek so much and felt like I needed to do something, but there wasn’t anything I could really do, except listen. Except be available. Except…

So, I cooked. I made him a dozen small individual Italian Easter Breads to take with him to Easter dinner with his family. I brought him fresh Tuberose, blooming for such a short time and only available in New England for such a short window of time, they smell like heaven, they smell like my parfum. I also bought myself some and placed the bouquet in a pitcher in my bedroom so I can wake up to their smell each morning.

Friday night, after finishing up the breads, I took a shower and grabbed a cab at midnight, placed the warm treats on his table, the flowers in his sink, and crawled into bed next to him. I was asleep, spooned against his back, my hand resting on his forearm and nose nestled into the crook of his neck, in less than 10 minutes. It was warm and soft and felt like home.

Type Geek is my just right. Like Goldilocks… I have tried the beds that are too hard and too soft, the porridge that is too hot and too cold, and the men and women who are just too big or too small… in many ways, Type Geek is my just right. Sure, there is no perfection. Our schedules don’t allow us to spend more than once a week with each other. Sex doesn’t happen three times a week like I would love. Still scarred from his past two relationships, he isn’t ready to swim in the waters that I dove into, but he dangles his toes on the edge and smiles as he talks to me while I swim. For now, that is fine. For now, I am happy just to have those toes.

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His brother is dying. Maybe not today, but soon. He allowed a problem, an illness, to fester without care for so long, that now even organ transplantation may not be enough. Bleeding doesn’t stop, body doesn’t heal, mothers become histrionic and require tranquilizers and brothers try to stay strong for everyone.  All I can offer Type Geek is an ear, shoulder or embrace. No words help.

Type Geek and I were on a super pleasant dinner date, halfway into a bottle of wine, when mom kept calling. I told him to call her while I ran off and used the restroom. I came back to find him rather ashen. I waited a moment and asked what was wrong. Apparently his brother was rushed to the emergency room after being found in his room vomiting blood and bleeding from an ulcerated skin wound that wasn’t healing. Sigh. He opted to finish dinner and have me sleep over still; there wasn’t anything he could do. Surgery was scheduled for the morning. Until post surgery, he was useless to the mix. 

Saturday morning we lazed on his couch after breakfast, I rubbed his feet as he looked at mid-century furniture on-line and we both drank coffee. He told me that he didn’t think his brother was going to pull through this, and I tried to reassure him that he would, of course he would. Only, Sunday evening I received a text that said the family was  “saying goodbye”. Bleeding wasn’t stopping. The doctors had little hope and suggested the family rally and make their peace. Monday was spent bedside, mother heavily tranquilized, with Type Geek keeping everyone calm. The bleeding had slowed, but it hadn’t stopped. The doctors said that it is now up to the brother as to whether he survives this week. It was a miracle he made it until Monday. I spent the entire day yesterday at work trying to figure out what to write, what to say. I’m left without many words here. All I can do is be present and receptive and supportive, nothing else I could say, or do, will make a difference here. So, I find myself unable to write anything clever and witty for you today. I am not a religious person, but I ask that everyone keep good energy in their hearts for Type Geek and his family.

Thank you everyone for all of your support of my journey and the tales along the way. I really do appreciate every one of you readers.

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Charlie Sheen doesn’t make me laugh, he doesn’t make me chuckle at his wisdom or ponder his deep thoughts, and I certainly don’t consider him to be… WINNING. I find the saying to be anything but proof of winning. I find people who use his phrases in their daily speech to be slightly sad as well. That’s why it makes me cringe and disappoints me when Type Geek makes some utterly Sheen-esque comment… and finishes it with…”WINNING.” Cause, you know what, it’s the antithesis of winning, in fact.

Tomorrow night he is going to check out the Sheen show, and due to some connection he has, he’s gonna hang out with Sheen after the show. I shudder to consider the ramifications of such actions. Sheen is a fiery ball of a train wreck… going 250 mph at an iron wall…without brakes and no common sense to avert course. All I could say, was be careful. Be smart. Tiger blood? More like diseased plague blood. Can I buy a full body prophylactic for Type Geek, so he doesn’t come into contact with Sheen’s venomous nasties and be tainted forever?

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kpd nkldvs

At 2 am I was awoken by a text message from Type Geek that said, roughly, what I typed above. Feeling dirty, I texted back, “Did your penis just text me?”. “Pretty much”, was his response. He was restless, couldn’t sleep, and so he rolled over and grabbed the phone and in doing so, accidentally sent me a gibberish message. I told him to take a hot shower to get back to bed, and then I changed my approach and sent him a nude photo, because I was feeling frisky. He responded excitedly that,” masturbation would definitely help.” So, I followed that an idea of what he could think about while doing it. Apparently he woke up a horny girl. He apologized for waking me but I insisted that it was a nice surprise, as now I was able to deal with some business of my own while imagining him dealing with his.  

It definitely is feeling like things are moving in a positive direction with him. I know that he has trust issues, so, baby steps and no expectations, but counting my blessings each step of the way. Especially the late night dirty ones.

While I slept soundly the rest of the evening, I awoke with the flu. Yes, sick again. I was awake long enough to put the laundry is in the washer, consume an orange and take my temperature. Alternating hot and sweaty, then cold and shivery, I spent the remaining part of the day in bed, except for a brief moment when I crawled out of bed to write this post. Ugh. I am not pleased with the germ girl at my new work. Every time I work near her, I get sick. It’s almost reason enough to reconsider this job.

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His asking for advice about something semi work related.

Heavy flirtation via text.

Some naughty thoughts from both of us.

A potential date for the end of the week.

Cautiously optimistic indeed.

On the health front, still staying fairly on track. Closed at the restaurant two nights in a row and then was too exhausted to get up early and hit the gym before my Saturday night shift. Had to work brunch this morning and by the time I got off work, all I had the energy for was taking the pup for a walk and a ten minute phone conversation with Type Geek. Gym is on the itinerary for tomorrow morning. Tonight’s dinner is spiced pepper quinoa with pinto beans and piri piri marinated wild mackerel tossed with some brown rice pasta.

Hope everyone has had a great weekend. Drop a line and let me know how you all are doing.

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Ouchie Ow Ow Ow

So, apparently I am even more out of shape than I suspected. I thought yesterday, as I stepped on the elliptical machines, “Hell yeah, an hour on this will be cake.” Only, 3 minutes in, I was a step from crying as I realized that the machine had become my mortal enemy in those 190 seconds. I quickly adjusted my program time to 15 minutes. Not knowing what machine to do next, I wandered around the gym a bit and settled into the cycles for another 15 minute routine. Without an iPod, without a plan, the gym is tremendously BORING.

I walked into work a couple of hours later to find that we had totally changed out our dessert menu and we were scheduled for a tasting. A tasting?! The day I decide to start a no sugar, no processed foods, all health kick for 30 days, the universe decides to throw 12 desserts in my face for me to “try”. My colleagues all said… “just one bite…” , and I ran screaming (in my head) to a salad and a glass of iced green tea. Sigh.  

Midway through my shift, after hours of walking up and down the stairs, my legs turned to flaming rods of pain. 15 minutes on an elliptical could do THAT to my legs?! That proves to me that this challenge is necessary. It seems that Friday is upper body work since I won’t be able to move my legs.

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