Archive for the ‘Trips’ Category

I woke today with the giggles of two young girls crawling into my bed. 3 and 7, my “nieces” are the most incredible children I have known. It was 70 degrees at 9 am when they slowly opened the door and ran under the covers. My best friends were asleep and it was sweet perfection for the half hour  that the girls and I laid in bed chatting. While my friends snuck in an extra couple of hours of sleep, taking advantage of my presence keeping the kids at a slightly quieter tone than normal, I made a traditional Southern New Year’s Day brunch complete with braised ham hocks, Hoppin’ John, collards, pan roasted potatoes, and poached eggs. Once they awoke, we sat together outside, the sun on our faces, and ate too much and laughed just enough. I miss them terribly and wish my reality was a bit closer to theirs, rather than on the other coast. Perhaps that is a change I need to consider.

This year begins a lot differently than last. Last year I was in love with a complicated man, still technically owned my home, still technically owned a small business, although both were in the end process of being given back and dismantled, respectively. I had the very best dog, who was also one of my most dearest friends. Just when I thought my own personal identity couldn’t be anymore shook up, it was. Tested is barely scratching the surface with regards to how I felt many times over. Tortured is definitely how I felt most often.

I don’t believe in Resolutions. I don’t think I did anything necessarily wrong or bad to encourage the harsh events that had unfolded around me in 2011. Will I love less? No. Will I love differently? Quite probably. Each time we love someone, a new person or a past person, the love is a little bit different. It’s nearly impossible to ever love quite the same as you have previously. So, what will the year bring. I have hopes for it. I have wishes and dreams and preferences, but none of these things I can predict as the truth. I have come to learn, through my many painful experiences, that I have far less control over the outcome of things that I once believed.


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When I was a little girl I loved John Cougar (Mellencamp). I still do in fact. Even when I was (my stylist loves this bit) GOTH (yes, you can stop laughing now), even then, I secretly rocked out to the simplicity of JCM’s world. If you liked someone, you just hung out at ice cream shops in the summer, it wasn’t so hard. But JCM’s world didn’t have lesbians that suddenly find themselves in love with the barnyard after swimming with the fishes for the majority of their adult romantic life. JCM’s world didn’t have complex behavioral disorders that resulted in emotional detachments. It had Jack and Diane, Link Pink Houses, and in his later years, it had him asking us to dance naked for him. None of these are so bad. I’d dance naked for Type Geek anytime. SIGH.

Apparently some people, other than Type Geek, wanted me to dance naked for them. The other night at work I was hit on by 2 people. Often I will get flirted with by one gentleman in an evening. Two is above normal though, especially considering that one was a woman. I must have sent out some sort of vibes, because that just doesn’t happen. I did tell both that I am seeing someone, which made the man respond that he was “fine with that”. French men, geez. I then said that I was in love with this other person and that I needed to decline his advances, which made him slip me $20. Huh, what? Apparently I do tricks for money, like give out numbers or get so impressed I will leave someone whom I am crazy about, for a French schoolteacher with piercings. Maybe I would have considered it once, before Type Geek, but not now. The girl? She was an adorable sweetheart, and IF not for TG, and had I still been interested in the ladies, if I could pull any interest together, I would have  jumped at a date with her.

So, I’m yearning for easy. For simple. A Saturday afternoon drive to a boardwalk, barefoot stroll through damp sand, with a cherry dipped vanilla soft serve in my hand. That isn’t what I am getting though. There is something I am not telling you all, that I may eventually, but that at this time, I believe needs to remain out of this blog. There is something I know now about Type Geek that keeps me here, keeps me trying, even on days most people would walk away. Trust then that while I may not completely know what I am doing, I am not completely walking blindly down a dangerous path.

With all of that said, I am on google+ and would like to invite you all to come say hello. You can find me by the name “Jane Michaels”, another pen name which I use. Hope to see you all on google+, and I hope that you are all enjoying your summers, replete with cherry dipped softserve.

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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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