Category Archives: writing

2011 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Syndey Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 28,000 times in 2011. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 10 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

Watereach: the newest, most succulently indecisive fruit-on-the-fence

It just makes sense, right?!

It’s Christmas 2011. I’ve finagled to be alone; somewhat out of consideration for my ex-husband to have family time alone with the kids and somewhat because (I confess) I really am not a fan of the holiday season. I get dark and nostalgic, moody and overwhelmed, sensitive and regretful. Yes…regretful. I crave alone time because I don’t like to risk rubbing off my pitiful aura onto anyone else’s holiday enjoyment. Plus, overall, it’s just embarrassing to me that a person with a sunny disposition as myself would fall prey to the ridiculously blue sensitivity of the holidays! Embarrassing! …and I don’t confess this to anyone. I pretend and I smile and I suck it in as long as I’m able to do so without imploding and when I’m ultimately exhausted, I just have to duck out. Take a break. Go within all by myself. Cry, pray, laugh, whatever…

I started writing about a few of the dates/”relationships” I’ve had in my time away from my blog. However, I feel uninspired. There are certainly some comical, interesting people and situations to write of; I just can’t get into it for some odd and unusual reason! I wanna spill the beans on these freaks, all their quirks, and silliness….and naturally, I feel simultaneously compelled to spill MY quirks and silliness that have reared their preposterous heads during these experiences as well…but WTF is wrong with me?! I have NO direction right now. NONE.

We’ve recently moved. So, while at happy hour on a recent Friday, I investigated my new neighborhood pubs. Directly across from the local airport and a hop, skip, and jump from home, is a little hole in the wall pub. I ring up my buddy Lar and we meet up there. I’m so very glad we did! I met the nicest lady, Janet. Janet is timelessly pretty and has a terrific upbeat, honest and open personality. She also lives and works quite close so she knows a great deal of the local folk who frequent this place. Such a great way to meet people!! I’m talking to Lar and Janet…mostly Janet… when a dark haired guy sits on the other side of Janet. I vaguely recognize him from way back in my youth as an older acquaintance of my high school boyfriend. I’m kinda nosey…leaning over now and then…listening to and poking into their conversation just a bit; wondering if this guy will recognize me at all and more importantly, wondering if he’s at all interested in talking to me. He does not recognize me and I love that! I feel really free and flirty because he doesn’t recall me whatsoever. I suffer from the “quadruple threat”; having a face, name, voice, and personality which rarely allow me any anonymity even after just one single meeting with most people. This guy not only doesn’t seem to recall me at all, but, he’s not really paying much attention to me either, which of course really raises my interest a few levels beyond mildly interested… as anything that feels remotely challenging typically does for me. Hey!! This blog is my place for bold, blatant and blaring honesty. Yeah, I’m that girl sometimes. I hate that I am…but yes, I am. I can’t resist a challenge…or anything that seems like it even might offer a challenge.

So, when Janet and Lar begin discussing something over/across me which I’m just not so much interested in, I grab the opportunity to say, Gosh, maybe Janet and I should switch places?! Janet laughs and agrees, so BAM! There I am next to the guy…Mr. (paying little to no attention to me) Challenge. Hmmmmmm….. Now I’m interested. We start chatting. I’m enjoying guy. He’s interesting and attractive, not my kind of attractive, but attractive nonetheless! He’s clearly not an idiot, has a good job, and can hold his own in a conversation with a mildly drunken, easily distracted blonde chick playing a mind game of sorts. Kudos to guy. As I’m the first to admit, this is not an easy task. I’ve got naughty trying-to-be-a-comedian-Santa begging for my attention and some young 20-something fella I met outside, buying me “holiday shots”, as if I’d ever, EVER need those!! Yup, it’s going well, really. And it’s not just the anonymity and challenging intrigue! Okay, well it might be. But, I’m not sure just yet. I’m just having a blast!! We laugh and talk and we learn that we have a major experience in common…getting totally screwed by Jeff Vanderstelt, Attorney at Law. Oh the topics of discussion….! We do exchange numbers and I don’t mention that we kinda sorta know each other from many, many lifetimes ago. I’m not entirely sure though how I feel about this guy though. I mean, once we get past the game itself, the challenge, the Oh is he interested in me or not? Excitement, how do I feel? What do I think of him actually? Yeah, I’m just not sure. He has my number. We’ll see how it goes… Guy calls me the next day. I don’t answer. I’m not sure what I think so I have to figure that out first, right? He texts the next day, Can’t wait to see you again. When are you free? Ughhh…it’s the (blech) holidays, birthdays, all of the stress, and work too…..ughhh. I keep blowing it off. ..He keeps trying and trying. Wow…how do I feel about that? I’m just not sure.

A week later, I made plans with my new friend Janet to meet at the bar for happy hour. So I text him that I’m doing so if he’s interested in meeting up. Yup, he is. Yay! I’ll get to investigate my feelings and thoughts about guy further with a lovely safety cushion of my new friend, just in case I need to blow him off and/or make a quick but polite getaway… Guy shows up. We are having a terrific time! Feelin’ kinda bad I’m hardly talkin to Janet, but she has another friend there too, so it’s all good really. This is weird. I like being with him. I’m not faking it at all. He’s not really my “type” to any extreme. He is in many ways, but he isn’t in just as many…or more. I can’t figure this out. I’m having fun though so it’s all good. He says the sweetest things and he makes me smile. His twin brother’s girlfriend shows up and she creates another interesting diversion. She’s married; twin brother has a serious alcohol issue and is very jealous of girlfriend’s husband. OH the drama! Guy just seems more and more normal and amazing as this whole scenario continues.

Adds to the confusion of how do I feel? I do not know. I can’t sort it all out AT ALL. It feels all discombobulated inside. I like him though. I do. We go to his place for a little bit so he can check on his 17 year old son, who’s actually out with friends. We make out a little. I’m kinda into this, but I’m not ready for the whole enchilada. He pushes a little too far. I got scared for a moment, actually, but I’ve had some scary experiences, so this is probably not even his fault. He does take no for an answer though ultimately. And I’m relieved, but conflicted as well. It’s not that I don’t want to. I’m just not ready for that yet.

Guy follows me home. Such a gentleman! He keeps saying he just wants to take me somewhere to have time alone, to go somewhere nice, etc, etc…. He’s very sweet and romantic. I like it. It’s perfectly wonderful. No, I hate it. It’s too much. I don’t freakin’ know what I feel. What’s wrong with me?? I always know what I feel….always! But nope, I just really don’t know. I’m kind of all over the place with this. It’s a definite yes! NO, wait…it’s certainly no… Uh oh hold on, it’s a great big absolutely positive maybe!

Hold up: Nahhh….it’s an absolutely not…..errr…umm…absolutely not gonna pass this one up?! Hell, I can’t pinpoint this to save my life! If I were a color about this guy, I’d be split down the middle: half black and half white with a section of Definitely Grey striping down my center. If I were a vegetable about this guy, I’d be half a snow pea and half corn on the cob. If I were a fruit about this, I’d certainly be half a peach and half a watermelon. Make sense now? Exactly…!

Guy and I have gone out more than a few times now. He’s asked me to reserve New Year’s Eve for him. He’s said all the right things and a few wrong ones too. He’s a bit assertive for my time and attention, but still continues to say, I don’t want you to feel pressured Kay. He’ll call every day, but often say, I hope you don’t feel like I have to talk to you every day Kay; I don’t wanna scare you off

Sometimes I get the feeling he’s trying a little too hard but then he catches himself when he senses that deer in the headlights feeling I’m sure I randomly give off when he’s saying sappy, sweet nothings in my ear that I love hearing, but I hate hearing them. And buffering them with saying, I don’t want to come off too sappy, buttttttttt…blah blah SAPPY, SAPPY blah blah blah……

And mostly I like him. And sometimes – just now and then though – he gets on my nerves a bit. And then suddenly he doesn’t get on my nerves at all, but I really like him again. And then just as quickly, I’ll feel smothered and want some freakin’ space (seriously pal, BACK OFF!); then, I’ll feel like being close and open with him. My oldest daughter met him finally. He was so nervous for her approval, it was adorable: no, adorably annoying… And she said she “really liked him”. Awesome!

Now I just have to decide if I really do… or not!

Challenging the very idea of perfection

Finally….an avenue from which to blog again! Yayyyy!  Sanity will hopefully be mine again soon:)

If I just skip through the past year of non-documented adventures (or mis-adventures) to present moment.  I’m proud to say, I’ve just recently started the online chronicles again – just a few  weeks ago actually.  Prior to then, I hadn’t even visited my dating sites and hadn’t bothered with reading any emails or browsing any guys professing interest in mine.

I’m only chatting with a few intriguing prospects at this time, but have had several offers to meet.  One, I did have lunch with just last Friday.  It was interesting…as these things often are.  I wasn’t wholly in to this “meeting”, but I thought, “Geesh…I gotta start back somewhere!”

He surprised me with his selection of the restaurant: definitely a guy who eats after my own eccentric flair for food.  It was a highly acclaimed local place called  Mia & Grace  …truly a lovely choice!!

He looked just like his photo, so I could pick him out of the lunch crowd immediately.  This is a bonus!  After some introductory conversation, he starts talking about the last woman he dated, that his divorce wasn’t final just yet, and how his soon-to-be-ex still felt it perfectly acceptable to enter his home any time she had the inclination, but that he knew it was really to snoop through his things.  Toward the end of the lunch, I realized the majority of the conversation had been about the ex.  Yeah, I already wasn’t so hip from the get-go about the not being divorced yet part, but this screamed of a guy who was clearly in no position to be trying to date – and certainly not so much, so hard.  I mean, of the 4 different men I had started communicating with, this guy had jumped to exchanging numbers and to meeting in person long before anyone else had even mentioned it yet!

Relax, pal.  What’s your rush?  Shouldn’t you finish your divorce first or at least be a little more emotionally divorced before such date haste?  I felt a little sorry for him though, instead of my usual sarcastic, cynical criticism.  I really wanted to grab his hand and say, “Heyyyy, you’re a handsome man.  You’ll most definitely meet someone.  Just go through the roller coaster divorce and let yourself heal for a bit before jumping the dating/relationship gun…. Ok?”  I didn’t say this though.  After all, who am I to judge his hasty desperation?  Either what it means or what it’s about?

Good luck, buddy!  Thanks for an amazing lunch!  Really wish you the best!!

All in all, not a really bad experience.  I just couldn’t help thinking though, was this really why I had a couldn’t-care-less feeling about the whole thing from the first conversation? OR, was it more because one of the four whom I’ve been talking/writing with just really stands out above the rest?  And that possibility really makes me ponder.  Before I’ve met any of these men, how can one just stand out so FAR above the rest in piquing my interest?  Sure, said profile page was just precisely after my own heart.  Said guy seems that extraordinary balance between manly sexiness, intellectual nerdiness , and artsy sensitivity…all wrapped up in a sexy dark haired, green-eyed, taller than me wordsmith with an amazing knowledge of grammar, spelling, physics and literature, not to mention the beautiful ability to make me laugh out loud from reading his emails!

Okay, okay…so he’s perfect on paper so far…. BUTTTTTT…WHY do I just feel a sense of near loyalty to one specific dating profile before I’ve even met him – or met any others I’m talking with?  Has the seeming charming perfection just swept me off my feet virtually already? How?  Why?  Isn’t this a major conflict and contradiction to online dating?  To the whole concept of “dating” in general?

Dating:  a method of physically spending time with as many promising prospects as possible in order to determine (over time) one candidate who actually fits with the other in the most categories:  in order to defy the odds of the schmucks running amok in the dating world, literally and virtually?

And yet, I confess, I just didn’t care about this date.  Sure, he was attractive and held a great deal of the qualities I would like to find in a romantic partner.  And I’ve not even MET  this other  “Mr. Perfect” yet.  Hell, “Mr. Perfect” might be nothing like his profile and worse yet, there could just be no chemical attraction!  Why would I almost literally shut myself off to even a slight possibility with another decent candidate who has already asked me on a real-live date?

Well, Mr. Talks About His Ex Incessantly sure made this an easy cross off my list experience, practically within the first ten minutes. But I really wasn’t open to giving him a chance anyway, long before he made it so easy not to give him a chance.  And that truly perplexes me.

Regardless, easy it was! So,  I realize over and over, that I really just suck at the very concept of “dating”.  It almost goes against my grain and nature.  If I like someone (obviously even just in virtuality), then I just like him.  At that point, I have to force myself to even communicate with anyone else and a physical date is an almost painful push into the let’s be logical here arena.

I mean, GOSH, there’s even another very handsome local guy who keeps writing and texting and asking me to meet.     In fact, this other guy might be technically more traditionally handsome even than my current Mr. Perfect prospect.  Yet, I keep blowing off his invites with some pretty pathetic excuses and half the time I don’t even respond for several days to his communication initiates.  Just can’t muster up an interest or see any purpose when held up in the light against Mr. Perfect’s ideal qualities and bonus points.

What IS that?  Shouldn’t I be excited to meet as many qualifying candidates as possible in this sport of dating?  Shouldn’t I at least attend the previews of a few interesting movies before deciding one I haven’t seen is my absolute favorite?

I don’t know.  This whole “Mr. Perfect” guy…ummm…GEESH OH PETE….  I keep waiting for him to say something, ANY thing that doesn’t just delight or intrigue me beyond sensibility.  No, really, every time I open a new email or read a text from him, I think…..Okay, here it comes.  It has to.  Because he can’t possibly be actually perfect.  Not a possibility. I’m not perfect…no one else can be either!  So with each and every communique at this point, I know he has to demonstrate something less than my ideal. He must!   Even if it’s not a deal breaker per se, but SOMETHING.  I almost WANT him to do this – mar the image of perfection he presents so far – for several reasons.  One, I’m nervous as hell for a guy this “perfect” to meet me and be total witness to my inevitable and perhaps  overwhelming imperfections and  I’d have some ammunition going in if he’s already short at least a quality or aspect or two.  Secondly, everytime he fails to show me an imperfection of some kind, I am forced to face my literal terror of actually meeting a great-for-me guy.  What would I do?  There is then such a blatant possibility of my following my traditional time-proven M.O. of  sabotaging these things.  And I’m slapped in the face with how deep my issues and fears really go.  Something, I really prefer to (deceitfully?) convince myself I’ve worked out and conquered. And I can live in that pink bubble as long as there’s something wrong with THEM.   This guy terrifies me…and we’v e not even met!  Yeah, terrified is an accurate description.  He makes me feel giggly and excited, intellectually challenged, admiring and self-confident,  hopeful and enthusiastic…and utterly TERRIFIED.

Although, he did FINALLY tell me one less than perfect (for me, at least) quality just yesterday:  He’s NOT a huge football fan like I.  Wait….WHAT?!!  What the hell is going on here?!  How can that be, Mr. “Perfect”?  And as an avid college football enthusiast, just how far can I go with THAT little tidbit of imperfection.  I can see the desperate measures already:  No, Mr. Perfect, I cannot go to the museum with you Saturday!  Are you kiddin’ me?  OMG….there’s a game on!!!  Don’t be ridiculous.  I’ll be watching the game like every other self-respecting human being in America, watching it with fellow football LOVERS….uhh…GEESH!!!  And surely this massive imperfection might lead to other, oh-so-practical and legit excuses for other possible “issues” this little conflict will inevitably create.  Right?  Of course!  After all, I love football; I know how to take that ball and run with it!  Psh!

That said, I’m delighted to say that I’m meeting “Mr. Perfect” today!!!  Yup,  fully armed with my you-can’t-possibly-be-my-idea-of-absolute-perfection ammunition.  Phew…just in time!  And the question becomes, upon meeting him in person, will Mr. Perfect give me more ammunition with which to battle  or will he charmingly stomp all over the meek supply I’ve managed to dig up?

Never mind that his random suggestion of meeting spots just happened to be my FAVORITE place in a 100 mile radius of my town.  And no, I hadn’t told him how much I loved that place or ANY place!!  GOSH, this guy’s tough to smother in my issues so far OR clobber with my baggage….yet.

I’m sooooo excited…and so very nervous!

Uhh Cupid, we have a problem!

So, I have issues.. yeah, issues… Luggage, baggage, psychological and emotional idiosyncracies… Ummm…whatever you wanna call ‘em. In fact, I’m pretty sure I have my fair share, your fair share, and a bit more for extra measure!
And I could go into detail about these, psychoanalyze why, who, what, and how they came about but really, does any of that matter? Well, other than making for a truly unbelievable (yeah unbelievable as in lierally, “I do not believe that’s true!”) story/post/biography, no, it just doesn’t matter. It is what it is. And at least, I’m aware I have major issues, so I hope I’m at least a tad ahead of the typical idiot idiosyncratic schmuck who is riddled with them and genuinely isn’t in touch with their own reality that something just isn’t quite “right”… That’s a bonus for me, right?
I’ve wanted to write for a while now of this great “thing” I have going with “J”… because it really is just great! Truly… However, while dealing with K’s suicide, I just haven’t been able to sit down and write. It’s as though I couldn’t bring myself to discuss trivial life matters with this blaring tragedy sitting on my heart…
But, I realize I can’t post for the next ten years on that… well, I could, yet no matter how fitting that seems to be in some ways…it’s just not and I must move on with writing of my original mission of this blog.
Dating.
I’ve been dating “J” and it’s terrific! In so many ways, he’s exactly what I wanted to find: a cool, fun, attractive, and interesting guy to hang out with/date, minus any pressure, stress or major drama… BINGO! I’ve found it! It just might be that I have, in fact, nailed some jello to the wall!
We’ve been having a fabulous time. He’s a valuable and amazing gem of a guy and he adores me… Awwwwwwwww…. No really, it’s quite precious and I consider myself a pretty luck chick to have snatched (and kept) his attention and adoration thus far.
We have long random discussions about world issues, life matters, and trivial ridiculous-like stuff. We have sex, we snuggle, and we play. We go to movies, rent movies, play games with friends. We are active and sometimes lazy. We have fun and then we are serious at times… It’s just a  super cool thing we have going on here and I really enjoy it, him, the relationship, etc, etc, etc… Yeah, it’s pretty much exactly what I had hoped to find when I began this journey/mission! Even the whole he-was-engaged-to-my-friend thing just hasn’t been a huge negative issue. We’ve told her and she seems okay with it. So, aside from some all too expected gossip from other obviously bored locals, there just hasn’t been any problems…at all. It’s been utterly terrific!

J is adorably nerdy like the character in "Juno"...what's not to love??

So….why in the hell would I want to complicate it? Ruin it? Drama-fy it? WHY??
Okay, the answer is I don’t. I don’t want to…I really, truly don’t…. but…..but…. omg… I swear I could complicate a game of freakin’ tic-tac-toe to the point of annoyance! WTF is my deal?? I can write a million posts picking on the guys in the dating pool out there, but the truth…the ugly down-n-dirty truth… is I’m not THAT much different than they when my idiosyncratic issues and frustrating-as-fuck-flaws come into the mix! Truth is, I’m a great chick with a lot of really kick ass stuff to offer a relationship, but I’m fucked… Yeah, at the nitty gritty of it all, I’m probably a bigger pain in the ass freak of nature than any of the weirdo’s I’ve written about here.
I’m so contradictory and I just can’t ever decipher if it’s the situation itself or if it’s really just me…
You know, I’m casually strutting toward the goal… I’m almost there..I can see it.. Hell, it’s so freakin’ close I can feel it; success, satisfaction, happiness….it’s there… just three more steps and it’s mine…. I can just skip along these last few feet….and skipping is so fun…
Do I throw the obstacles down on purpose? Or do I just forget the baggage that sits all around me in my excitement and then when I trip over them, I look around like “Did you just see that row of extra-large suitcases come at me outta nowhere?!” BAM! WTF?!
Because all I know is that I’m skipping along…grateful, happy, satisfied…and suddenly I trip…I trip from outta the blue, for seemingly no reason at all! I just hit this weird place, this ridiculous wall, this treacherous bump, this whacked out spot where the crazy-good amazingly beautiful planetary alignment from heaven that feels like beautiful fate falling into place just suddenly – without sense or warning… twists, turns, and flips…my thoughts, emotions, sanity get all jumbled up and I forget. I forget what I wanted, why I wanted it, and start to question if I ever even really wanted it at all…
Yeah….issues….yup…I got an abundance of ‘em…. Ohhhhh FUCK!!!
The problem here is that in the process of getting to know “J” better, I’ve also had the opportunity to get to know his friend “Jack” better… I won’t try to deny that I found Jack enormously attractive from the moment I met him. It just didn’t really matter that much because I already knew “J” and really liked what I knew. I wasn’t going to be deterred or lured away from my path to “J”. I wasn’t even interested in being deterred or lured. And then, it seems that most of my non-alone time with “J” also happens to typically include Jack. This is fabulous! Jack is F-U-N… So, I get to hang with the terrific J AND I get to hang with the fun, funny, HOT Jack…. Yeah, I’ve been lovin’ it!
And somewhere in the past few months of this, a week or so ago, I suddenly realized that I look forward to this shared time with Jack more than I care to admit. To the extent that when we are all in a group, J almost gets on my nerves….
It’s not quite that simple though because I still like J a lot, even in the midst of this mild near-annoyance thing. J is just so blasted likeable!!!! Yeah, he’s cute and sweetly adorable, kind and helpful, caring and smart. He’s definitely a total nerd…and I LOVE that!
Love it, love it, LOVE it…right up until the moment he’s held up in the light directly against Jack. Jack isn’t cute or handsome… Jack is freakin’ SEXY. Jack is the sensual “dark soul” with the sensitive side he thinks he hides so well, but actually it just gives me the urge to tempt him into bringing it out. He’s that bad ass, sarcastic, funny, tough as nails guy…mysteriously quiet, but an expert conversationalist when he chooses. And I don’t know exactly why, but we talk so easily to one another and I. Love. It!

...and Jack exhibits more of this kind of appeal....umm...OMFG!!

So, ummm…yeah, I secretly really look forward to these little spontaneous communiqués and I admit, it kinda nagged at me a bit how much I truly have begun enjoying this. That guilty feeling hits me every time “J” asks, do you mind if Jack joins us? Uhhh…nooooo…I don’t mind at all. In fact, please? Could he? Pretty please??
Okay, so I’ve been dealing with this (I think) effectively. I’ve started trying to pay ALL my attention to J in these situations and limit my attention to Jack. I’ve been focusing my thoughts during those times at all the incredibly wonderful and endearing traits of J and how much I adore him. This has worked…sorta…mostly…. Well, I was at least convincing myself it was.
…Until this past Monday. Monday, in a strange and unusual turn of events, Jack was called to my place of work for a civic duty…not something at all avoidable or by choice…totally and simply and absolutely just by chance. In fact, J had told me this was coming up and I casually blew it off. But I didn’t really…I took serious note of this information and deliberately took an off-the-typical-mark lunch hour, conscientiously and deliberately attempting to avoid any possibility of running into Jack sans J. Okay, I have this so under control here.
So, on Monday I take a very late lunch and while attempting to leave my office area, a very chatty co-worker engages me in idle chat. And she’s chatting…and chatting..and chatting… seems her husband had been called in for this civic duty as well and she’s just going on an on…and on…and on… Bless her heart! Finally, my stomach growls so loudly, I snatch the opportunity to say, Gosh, I really gotta go…I’m starving! And she lets me walk away..finally!
I’m coming down the hall, feeling so proud of how I’ve avoided getting myself into any wonderfully uncomfortable situations and as I round the bend by the elevators, my peripheral vision catches a familiar face stepping out of the elevator to my left.  A familiar sexy face with that adorable mischievous grin and that mysterious “dark” look all about him…
Yeah, it’s Jack. And what are the odds???? Seriously..wtf?!
So, I can’t politely (or with any explainable reason!) avoid this now. What am I supposed to say? Sorry Jack, I know we hang out together at least four nights a week and I date your friend, and we have become the best of friends in the process, buttttttt, I’m secretly so attracted to you that I would feel guilty having lunch with you or being in your presence without J…. Seriously, how could I say that? And how could I explain avoiding him? I so suck at coming up with on-the-spot excuses/fibs too…umm..what the hell do I DO now??
And so… yeah, Jack and Kay go have lunch together. A lovely lunch during which I desperately attempted to disguise my nervous secret with babbling silly chatter and laughed so hard at one point that I spewed lettuce toward his face. I can only say I’m really, REALLY fortunate Jack doesn’t know me much better or I’m pretty sure he’d have totally been on to the fact that something was up with me. I can only pray he didn’t though.
Anyway, it was a blast having lunch with Jack! I was flustered and attracted, and trying terribly hard to force myself out of any sense of attraction to this guy…and finally it was over. I thank him for a fun lunch and we say good bye. Me, hoping and praying that my attraction to him wasn’t blaring between the lines of my desperation to not feel or acknowledge, even inadvertently, this fucked up attraction.
I breathed a bit easier as I walked away from him. Phew…spending an hour “alone” with him and not blurting out my big secret was amazingly more difficult than I even had anticipated. Breathe….but it was over. I did it!! Yayy!! Breathe… Commence to my office and on with ignoring this unwanted, unplanned, unexpected, and unfortunate attraction to Jack..Get it back in freakin’ perspective…breathe…breathe…
No. It did not help! I could not get this man off my mind for the next six hours!!! As if it hadn’t already been a chronic challenge to keep my thoughts of him in appropriate perspective before our innocent little lunch, I was so light headed and distracted with thoughts of him now that I made more stupid mistakes in the next few hours at work than I have in all the weeks I have been there total……… because I had Jack on the brain… and sadly, I have ever since…just can’t seem to shake it…UGHH!
Eeeeeeeeeeek…OMG…what now?

Pregnant pause vs. the awkward silence

..sometimes a good idea...

I’m learning how to be comfortable with silence in conversation.  Traditionally, this goes against my natural chatty instincts, so it’s a work in progress for sure!

I began this lesson with my ex husband years ago.  My daughters and I actually often fondly refer to him as The Pauser.  He is the King of Pauses.  He knows how to utilize the effect a moment of silence can bring to many situations, as an employer, a father, a husband/bf, etc, etc…  He is so effective at this, that he doesn’t ever need to actually say words to make a person doubt themselves or start to worry and get paranoid…  even if the paranoia is about the phone signal (Umm…hello??? Are you still there?) or gets as awkward and disconcerting as frantic paranoia about the underlying thoughts in the conversation (OMG… ummm…WHAT???!  Did I just make an ass out of myself?  Did I just say the most ridiculous thing ever?  Is my foot in my mouth?  Umm….Why isn’t this man saying anything at ALL?).

Over years of dealing with the ex husband and his excessive pausing-business, I’ve realized how truly priceless it is in many situations and I almost envy his confidence and genius to both utilize this simple technique to his advantage and to just pull it off in general.  I mean, he is gooooooood at this!  In difficult or serious conversations, it’s unnerving to say the least.  In everyday casual conversations it’s frustrating and annoying.  But either way, I have to give him fat kudos for being a literal genius at this conversational method of staying one-up (or two or three “up”?) on his conversation partner of any given situation or moment. 

As a result, the man rarely needs to apologize or bother to explain his words (ever!), because he simply chooses them so carefully, it’s almost painful at times to be on the other end of these conversations and his “pauses”.  For the person who has just said something of utter importance (to them), the pauses feel like horrific awkward silences…that dreaded empty space you suddenly feel frantic to fill in to further explain, throw in comedic effect, plead for a response…whatever…anything will do; while to him, this is merely a very effective pregnant pause.  So you can gather how successful mastering this technique can be:  while he’s slowly and silently contemplating his every carefully chosen word, you tend to start babbling ridiculously, filling the space with chatter that offers even more information before he has yet responded at all! It is truly a brilliant conversational tactic in all situations and relationships for him.

I am not this person by nature though.  At all.  I’m a very open and expressive type, much to my frequent dismay in situations when I’ve said too much or said something easily misunderstood (yet again) or any of the bazillion faux pas that can arise from being extraordinarily open, chatty, and honest.  I’m training myself (via so much regular conversation with “the master”) though, to sit quietly through the pregnant pauses, see them for what they are, and not start nervously rambling.

However, I deal with this conversational silence master-mind on such a frequent (and frustrating) basis, that I no longer can adequately decipher the difference between a pregnant  pause and an out-n-out awkward silence.  I can appreciate the value of a moment of silence in a conversation and leave it at that.  I’m a ponder-er type, so pausing to reflect on either what has been said or what you’re about to say is, in theory, always a good idea. Awkward silences on the other hand are still dreadfully uncomfortable for me and I feel a responsibility to fill that space asap either to put the other person at ease (my strong southern breeding) or perhaps merely to put myself at ease…  Either…or…both…and…all of the above!  Thankfully, I’ve not had many cases in my entire life of “awkward silence”.    I’ve a number of natural tools in my conversation toolbox to either avoid this altogether or, at the least, work my way through it quickly and painlessly.  It’s just not something I’ve had to deal with much….for whatever reason…

Umm....soooooo..is it hot enough for ya?

Talking last night for the first time with Gabe, I discovered this phenomenon:  Lots of awkward silences!  How truly odd to experience this with a person whom I can write to with such total ease, at such length, and about so many different things!

Was this a “normal” first-time conversation thing?  Or was this a strange and difficult to decipher possible conversational “issue”?  When you add my chronic dealings with the master mind of intentional pregnant pauses to the mix of experiences with first conversations and dates and meeting new people in general, it’s truly hard for me to tell exactly what’s going on….  I certainly want to honor the prgnant pause types, but still don’t care much for the awkward silences…  Hmm..how to differentiate in these situations?

It was a delightful conversation with gabe for the most part and yet, I kept wondering if maybe I was ridiculous both for what I was saying and/or maybe  how I was saying it.  Yeah, I babble.  I do.  When getting to first know someone, I just don’t hold anything back really.  Well, I try to be in good taste and only discuss appropriate topics of course…  but I don’t carefully ponder my words;  I just talk… about Vegas weather, Vegas energy vibes, my love of peace frog stores, my fascination with the human psyche and the development of the conscience…and I ask questions..where did you grow up, what’s your family like, what are your thoughts and opinions on *this* or on *that* or whatever…and I always try to listen as much as I talk too.

I’m currently of the opinion that it’s often humor which stands smack-dab in the middle to differentiate between preganant pauses and awkward silences.

Ahhhh humor…..  Humor is often so difficult to convey or translate via the written word, yet rarely so difficult in verbal conversation with the added benefits of tone and inflection.  However, I arrive at three possibilities here regarding my conversation with Gabe: 1.  He just doesn’t share my (admittedly odd) sense of humor,  2.  He doesn’t “get” my humor, or 3.  He just doesn’t think anything I’ve said was funny, while I think it’s hysterical.  Or perhaps any combination of the three…?

It is the very definition of awkward when you tell a funny story and a person you don’t know that well anyway just sorta sits there in silence..  Ummm…again, we can blame cell phones for this: Hello?  Are you there?  And when we’ve determined that the signal is fine, then the silence from before and after this determination becomes excruciatingly awkward…  Ohhh…okay, so you heard me but I guess that just wasn’t funny to you…? Ummm… Okay…well…ummm…

But dammit, I'M laughing...or trying to...or was gong to....umm...guess not:-/

Then suddenly it’s no longer nearly as funny to me either….  Hmm……  oooohhhhh-kayyyy then…

This was definitely awkward and happened a few times. Seems that while emailing was a simple thing for Gabe and I, actual conversation was considerably more difficult… Ughh…   

Add to this,  that I shared a personal “experience” with Gabe that perhaps is not a gem of a situation from my distant past, but was merely in theory and therefore not actually any kind of issue past or present.  Not to mention, in my humble opinion it wasn’t some kind of dreaded confession of horror either… nothing all that horrifying overall and merely a conceptual thought at that.  Ohhh gosh, never mind..why am I being so mysterious about this?  It’s really not a big deal!  Here it is:

Once during my senior year in college, while newly married and struggling to catch up on my husband’s (now ex) difficult credit card bills, I contemplated

Yeah, yeah..I thought about it ....once!!

stripping (yeah, as in removing my clothes while dancing and accepting money for said effort) for a few months just to get the money to help pay off those bills which he was behind on when we married.  Yeah, I did

 I actually thought about it enough that I discussed this possibility with my husband.  Of course that idea was tossed out almost before I got the whole thing out of my mouth in a conversation with the husband, but I confess, I did truly and sincerely ponder doing this once.  I was pretty much laughing at this little confessional story…or starting to….  When I get the….DA-DA-DUMMMMMM…

Big fat silence.

Hmm…..ohhhhhhhkayyyyy…

Awwwwkwarrrrddd.

Confessions from my sleazy side

On this crazy, wild Vegas/Online dating journey of experience, I’ve hit a few little uncomfortable WTF-was-that-bumps, but I’ve not yet been rendered wordless.  Ughh! 

Writing for me is akin to breathing.  It allows me to process and understand my thoughts better.  Typically, if I go more than a few days without writing, I just can’t explain how very muddled and confused my overactive brain becomes!  Sometimes if I don’t write, I even start stuttering in my actual speech because my brain can’t decide on which word to use. 

the words just won't flow

  
Oh my…why,  that’s just gr, lov…de….won….umm….that’s nice!  

The ex (as in “THE” ex previously referred to here in my blog) used to laugh whenever I’d start to stutter in casual conversation, hand me a pen or steer me to the computer, and say, Kayyyyyy, you haven’t been writing, have you? …you need to go write!   Umm yeah, it’s pretty bad… 

So, when various circumstances all multiply together and overwhelm my ability to organize my thoughts enough to even write…OMG… Suffice to say, I’m as off-balance as a cat with no tail or whiskers and as confused as a nun in a sex toy shop! 

...just put a pen in her hand!

Thus, I feel the need to give props to Gabriel.  Gabe and I have been emailing on the Cupid since I signed up there.  He is amazing! He shares a love of literature and writing with me that has penetrated all the way through my temporary confusion.  Amidst writing far too lengthy emails to him about serial killers, life in Vegas, literature, movies, relationships, car accidents, and a passionately promiscuous love of writing(okay… alright….so my total sleazy side rears its ugly head at last!), I’ve been able to sort through my own overwhelmed state of mind and write again! (insert deep, meaningful sigh of relief right *here*…siiiiiiggggghhhhhhh….) Hooorayyy Gabe!! 

Gabe is now my muse of a heroic variety!  I so look forward to his emails for two reasons 1. He is exceptionally intelligent, interesting, AND oh-so-attractive (YAY!) and 2. Because this connection to him seems to have cleared my pathways and I started writing…Okay yeah, usually ad nauseum to him…poor guy!!  

A copy of my emails to Gabe

 But I mean really, I am compelled…. I go on …and on…and on….and on….I just suddenly have so much to say!   … Not that anyone reading this would ever know of my capacity to do that, but I sure can babble-the-mean-email, umm…practically as a virtual blog entry itself…  No, really.  I can…  It borders on the line of obnoxious! 

I’m not a religious person per se, but allow me to explain(I have no idea exactly where I found the following excerpt; I only know I’ve had it saved on my computer for a long time and I forgot to document exactly where I found it): 

Gabriel: the archangel of literature and writing

“The archangel Gabriel is the angel of creative writing.  With our permission, archangels give each individual what would best resonate and serve the individual.  Gabriel helps you to pick up the pen and start writing and helps to keep thoughts orderly while writing. He is the one, present, helping you to keep your ambition, and fueling the drive. He is the archangel of literature, past, present, and future.” 

Gabe is a precious gem with multiple fascinating layers!

So Gabe is not only a gem in and of himself, but he is also my archangel of all things writing (i.e. breathing, thought collecting, Rubik’s cube deciphering, etc, etc) and I’m beyond excited to meet him!!   Dare I say, Gabe is the muse of my sleaze…?!