I've had a lot going on the past couple of weeks. I'm finally feeling like I have some time to breathe and I'm gulping in the air, that's for sure. This will not be a rehash of all of that. I am ready to move forward.

I just finished giving my place the deep clean because I notice that the dust and the cathairbunnies accumulate rather frequently now that I've installed this wood floor. I love it so much more I can't even explain how much better I feel in my home. This is supposed to be my retreat after all. I really am fortunate to have the things that I have.

I must mention at this point that I'm sitting here enjoying a Myers and Coke Zero with Lime. Cuba Libre, baby! I only mention this because my mind will be rambling. I just decided to turn on the Cuban Rhapsody station. Love it!

In addition to becoming a neater/tidier person, I notice that cleaning is therapeutic. If I don't feel like exercising on the weekends, I give myself an out -- I can skip it but only if I clean the apartment. And this isn't the quick wipe down and sweep I'm taking about here, no we're talking sweeping, mopping and dusting, plus defurring sofas and doing something extra. Sometimes it's wash the shower liner, others (like today) it's clean a blind and wash that window. Believe me, that takes about 30 minutes and it's so boring but wow, that window looks great. The therapeutic part is that I'm not feeling guilty about avoiding the chores and while I'm doing all of that I have a lot of time to think.

I just took a break to make dinner. And it's what I would have made if no one was coming over because I also like experimenting in the kitchen while listening to Cuban music. Today is a day off and I have one more (thank you veterans) so I feel pretty chill. Despite the fact that I'm shortening my life because I'm smoking some cigarettes and I'm over 35 and on the pill. My risk for heart attack increases and yet I do it anyway. Ugh.

G is supposed to come over but I'm guessing that's not going to happen. It may but he still hasn't called and it's 6pm. I'm really not feeling like being someone's booty call so I think I'm going to say I'm tired and am okay just chilling here, watching a movie, and going to bed at my usual time. I think I'll swim for an hour in the morning before the pool gets taken over by kids and parties. That is the healthiest thing to do (cigarettes aside). And if I sleep in, then a walk/run or bike ride could be in the picture, too.

Back to G...what irritates me is that he's being distant. If he's not feeling it anymore then just fucking tell me already. I'm a big girl. I can handle it. He's not all that anyway, really. I'm just lonely sometimes and he was filling a void. All that big talk about wanting to be friends despite what happens and he's acting distant. I hate it. Don't lie to me. I'm okay with most things but I just hate not being in the know about something like that. You either want to hang out or not. It's not rocket science. If you don't feel like hanging out any more then man up instead of saying you'll do something and then not follow through as if you're letting me down easier. The only person you're letting off the hook is you and that makes me even more sure that you're a jerk and I was again wasting my precious time on someone who doesn't deserve it. Again. Of course, now that I think about it, whether I was wasting it is debatable. I did get out of what I was hoping for. I'd just hoped it would last a little longer. Oh well. Now that I'm really dealing with past issues, it's probably best I be on my own for a while longer and figure out what it is I really want. And get to the point where I feel content all the time like I feel now. No, seriously. I am content. I have a lot of good going on here and I am fine just as I am, with or without a partner.

By the way, my dinner is going to be fabulous all because I had the smarts to make some great combinations with leftover chicken and ground turkey. I eat so much better when I'm down with poultry.

Back to Reality

I have to go back to work today after having six days off from reality (six if you include the weekend) and I'm not sure how I feel about it. Part of me is glad to return to my routine because when my life isn't more scheduled, I tend to get away from a better diet and my exercise regimen. Part of me is not glad because I wish I could do what I want when I want. I suppose most people feel that way after vacation unless they're the sort who are super passionate about their work. Me? Not so much. Sure, it's not a terrible job. In fact, I'm more content in this job than I've been in years. YEARS. But it's still work and I'd rather play.

Reality. If you believe the crap they show on "Reality TV" then my reality is kinda boring in comparison. I am not competing with others to lose outrageous amounts of weight and feel like crap when I lose only 7 pounds in a week, or to cook the best meal of my life ever day, even several times a day, within a 30-day period or whatever it is. I'm not trying to get from Istanbul to Poughkeepsie in 24 hours with $10 dollars, a plane ticket, and a packet of sugar, nor am I stuck on some island trying not to eat my fellow contestants because I'm starving to death because I want to win a million dollars (pre-tax of course). But then there are other realities shown on TV that not everyone seems to be paying attention to...people out of work and forced to live in their cars (or shelters or with relatives), people killing each other over the stupidest things, senseless wars, extreme poverty, AIDS, countries divided politically, religiously, and racially, and on and on. Just yesterday while on my plane ready to head home from a really nice getaway, I noticed on the TV in front of me a gorgeous black and white photo of a couple and their two children and I just got a sinking feeling in my stomach as I read the scrolling details below the photo. How does a man kill his family with his bare hands and how do we ever comprehend it, really?

Shit, and I'm complaining about work, a few extra pounds, or feeling irritated because the guy in my life, who I know isn't right for me, is acting strange? Pahlease. Let me get my ass up and out of here.

Peace.

I'm on an E-motional Rollercoaster

I love music. I don't know if I could live my life without it. I feel sorry for those who can't hear. I hope that never becomes me. I love to start my day with it, just pick a random computer station on Rhapsody and go. I am partial to Alternative Hits but every now and again I try a new one. I attempted Burning Spear radio this morning, but I wasn't in a reggae mood so I went back to my trusty favorite. Right now a song by Radiohead is playing called Nude. The music is sad and haunting though I must admit I don't know what he's singing about.

It feeds into my emotional state this morning. I'm a bit sad to be honest. It started yesterday after work. I met G at his apartment so we could take his son to the park. He asked if I was hungry and I was. He asked me to peek in the freezer. Back in the corner, amongst the ice, frozen pizzas, pizza rolls, waffles, chicken, and ground beef, were some frozen veggie meals just for me. He was so proud of himself. I'm a vegetarian (well, had been or was trying to be or am still trying to be... no idea) and had once mentioned that I wasn't picky, that if he couldn't think of food to make me he could always try the frozen pasta/veggie meal approach as I didn't mind that sort of thing. He actually heard me. It was amazing to me and very sweet.

Dinner took a while because Cute Little Boy (CLB) had a tantrum, refusing to eat his dinner. After a light tap on the rear and a talking to, he finally realized if he sat down and ate his food, he'd be able to go to the park. The park was quite crowded with cute little kids running around at the playground and on their bikes. He rode his bike for a while and we followed him around but finally he was ready for the playground. This is a great playground with a big kids set of slides and tunnels and playthings and a little kids area with sandbox, smaller slides and climbing areas, and so forth. I had fun playing with him and pretending I couldn't find him. I also somehow got elected to push him on the swing set but honestly I didn't mind. I really adore this little tyke and in spending time with him have realized that perhaps I have missed out by not having a child and being a mom.

While I enjoyed my time at the park (I'd had a particularly mentally taxing day at work and it was refreshing to just play), I was feeling a bit odd. I know this is a Friends With Bennies situation we're in, but I can see there's a slippery slope. It's not that I love G. I could I suppose given more time and intimate moments but the truth is I don't now. The truth is I just want to be loved period. Sometimes I take what I can get to get by, which I don't think makes me different from a lot of folks, but it is a bit pathetic at times. Ok, pathetic is a bit strong but it's hard to describe what I'm feeling now.

G put CLB to bed and then we made what he called sopapillas, essentially deep fried flour tortillas coated with powdered sugar and cinnamon. They were good, but really I wasn't in to them as I'm trying to be "good" these days. Finally the benefits situation was on the agenda but first we had to fold laundry that was on his bed. I didn't mind actually but it did feel all so domestic. Most of the time I spend with him feels that way and I suppose it's feeding those feelings of not having what I want. I think that's it in a nutshell. I'm sad because I really want all those things. Not on a trial basis but all the time. The reality is that it's not happening now or really anywhere in the immediate future that I can see, so this situation will have to work. But for how long? I think that's what I was feeling yesterday -- a bit of self honesty about where this was going and a somewhat disconnected feeling from him. I don't know if it was because it had been a week and an ex-wife since we'd seen each other, or if it was guilt I was feeling for the Brit, or if my mind was issuing danger signals that I'm getting too close.

Why is it so hard to separate feeling from sex? Ah, there's the rub. They go together for most of us women. I do realize he doesn't love me and that I don't love him, but man, I wish we did. Just so it felt more genuine and less of a temporary "needs being met" thing. Still, it was hot. ("Your sex is on fire, consumed with what's to transpire." - Kings of Leon)

I came home late because he decided he didn't want me to stay over. I pouted a bit but really sleeping at home in my bed is best. I don't really blame him considering his ex-wife was there all last week and apparently had been making the moves to get back together. I feel for her. This was his first marriage. I think had I been married to someone for 10 years and they broke it off with me when I wasn't ready, I might have some deep feelings about it. I don't know that my pride would ever let me go back there but she tried...after 16 years.

Okay, so I'm sad today. I have so many things to do and no desire to do any of them. I'm going to be really late for work today. I have my session today. I have a shitload of work to do. And, I'm tired as all get out. How will I survive?

Open up your eyes

--Note: I didn't complete this blog post but decided to publish it anyway. I was planning to talk about the fact that this little scenario I described sounds great, but really it didn't end as well as I would have liked. The open up your eyes reference was to myself and perhaps maybe how I need to open up my own damn eyes about the actions I take in the search for love and feeling.

From Sunday May 10:

"Open up your eyes
Just open up your eyes
And give me love over this"

I decided today was a Coldplay sort of day. It started off rainy this morning and has turned into a lazy overcast Sunday. I just finished baking a cake and am waiting for a friend to stop by. Thankfully she's bringing the confectioners sugar which I will need for the frosting. That was the only thing I didn't have. The cake layers are cooling and I have to admit they look great. Hopefully they'll taste as good as they look. Earlier my neighbor came by and I made her breakfast.

I did not intend to pick up the British military guy at the pub. I didn't intend to even go to the pub but I was drawn there yesterday afternoon for some reason. I have been feeling restless lately, mostly due to not knowing what the hell I'm doing with my life (does anyone?). After I dropped my bicycle off for it's tune-up and tire swap, I decided to stop off to this British pub I like that's in the same strip mall. A scotch sounded heavenly so I dropped in for what I intended to be only one scotch and beer. I paid for the drinks rather than keep the tab open because I didn't want to get carried away. But well, I had good intentions but it just didn't work out that way. I decided to work on the blog post (refer to post made on 5/9 via cell phone/email) and have another round. I bummed a cigarette from the bartender and when I returned there was a couple sitting right next to my stool. I moved down one because I didn't want them to smell the smoke and eventually we struck up a conversation. Really great people, had a wonderful talk, told them about my upcoming triathlon (great way to train...drinking...ugh) and it was pleasant. I realized I had been lonely and so I really appreciated the discussion. Eventually they left to grab dinner at the Mexican restaurant next door. During the time we'd been talking, a rather non-descript guy in a military green jumpsuit, the kind with his name and rank had entered the bar. I was so caught up in my chat that I hadn't noticed. Now I noticed. He was sitting a seat away from me at the bar and I couldn't help but see the little British flag embroidered on the jumpsuit. I can't remember what I said to get the ball rolling but something was said. He was drinking beer, lots of it, and was quiet. Intense. Kinda haunted. But the accent was charming. I was intrigued. He was a bit hard to hear as he mumbled a little. We didn't talk much about his work but more about how he came to be here in the US, how much longer he had to serve, the fact that he worked a lot. He talked a lot actually and didn't ask me much about myself which might have been a sign but well, I'm a sucker for a British accent.

The evening continued. I bought him a beer, he bought me a beer, we smoked his cigarettes, and finally he said he needed a cab. I'd been nursing my drink by then. I said that I could give him a ride home if he wanted, that I was sober enough. After some thought, he finally agreed. So, after he grabbed something out of his car, I drove us to his place. During the drive, he apologized for his place saying it was messy. It was anything but that. Sure there were some dishes in the sink and maybe some papers around, but for the most part everything was in order, nicely decorated, and smelled of lavendar and vanilla, a scent I'm familiar with as I also have it in my home. The apartment was nice, very new, modern, oatmeal carpet, two bathrooms with huge tubs, nice kitchen, big balcony, nice master suite. Very nice. He offered me a beer and we listened to music for a while, chatting along the way, smoking some more. Nothing really happened for a while other than that so I was pretty sure it would be platonic, that maybe he wouldn't be one of those dudes who just wanted to sleep with me. It happened innocently enough. I was on the sofa waiting for him to come back in from smoking because by then it was 1AM and I was tired and not wanting to brave the cold for cigarettes which I'm not even supposed to be smoking in the first place. I moved my feet from the sofa so he could sit down and he just grabbed my feet and put them on his lap. He rested his arm against my legs and it felt nice. He suggested I stay the night, that he'd sleep on the sofa or that he'd be happy to call me a cab. It was at that point that I knew I'd sleep with him. I said that if he didn't have a problem with it, I'd share his bed with him.


We moved to the bedroom and still hadn't really touched each other, hadn't kissed. I took off my jeans and climbed into bed while he was in the bathroom. He finally removed the uniform. I'd suggested he change clothes and get comfy when we first got there but all he did was put on his slippers. Now, I watched him remove the uniform and noticed he took off everything. Everything. I don't know if he knew I was watching him. I almost felt as if I were spying on him.

He climbed into bed and turned to face me. I closed my eyes and in a few minutes he was caressing my hair and my arms and I knew he was making his move. I opened my eyes and looked into his and we kissed. It was nice. I'll leave the rest up to your imagination.

Good in theory

Friends with benefits. Yes, the very thing I said I didn't want I agreed to. It sounded good in theory. I mean, I don't really think he's (let's call him G) right for me and I believe that. Don't I? I guess the truth is I don't know who is right for me when I'm in the throws of passion. The reality is I like sex and the prospect of having it regularly seemed appealing so when he asked if I could be friends and lovers with no other expectations it seemed, after some reflection, an acceptable proposal.

But what's good in theory isn't always good in reality, no matter how much one loves sex and craves intimacy. The two are not mutually exclusive. I want to believe it and sometimes it feels like it even if it's for just a moment in time but nope, not the same.

So I was talking to a male friend last night about how things were going. The weird thing happening now is that G's first ex wife, the woman he married at 19 and divorced 10 years later is visiting until Tuesday. She got here Thursday and it's Saturday evening as I write this so I have a few more days of minimal contact to endure. (I must confess that thanks to the marvel of cell phones with email access, I'm sitting in a bar composing this blog from a bar stool and once I'm finished, I'll email my post to my blog. How cool is that?) So anyway, his ex is staying with him and the reality is I'm jealous. I'm not supposed to be jealous, right? But I am and it's driving me crazy. I've told myself that he was married to her for 10 years and its been over 15 years and another wife (ex after 3 years) since then and hopefully he'll remember why it was he divorced her in the first place but well, I'm still slightly unsettled about it all. And then there's the reality that he was with this woman 10 years to my one month. She trumps me.

Said male friend listened patiently, bless his heart, and finally said, "But you agreed to the friends with benefits arrangement so just let him be and relax. It'll be fine, she'll be gone soon, and if you're cool you'll be getting what you need."

Sounds good in theory but why am I still struggling with the jealousy? Sigh. Why do I get myself in these situations?

I'll have another scotch and beer and mull that over. Maybe the answer will come to me. Or I won't care.

Patience or lack thereof

I don't have much patience or rather, I haven't had much patience in my life. I've always been an immediate gratification person, well...maybe mostly with food and that has changed now that I don't let myself have everything I want to eat. But sometimes I'm like that with men and it drives me crazy. Specifically, I tend to want things to just play out RIGHT NOW. Is he in to me or does he just want to sleep with me? Will he call or won't he? Does he like me or is he just hanging out with me until someone better comes along? I want to know NOW!

It's not the most attractive quality in a person, this impatience. Sometimes, ok...almost always...it's confused with neediness and insecurity. And you know what? That's exactly what it is. I want so many things, I crave being in a truly intimate forward moving relationship, and sometimes when I think I may have found a potential partner in crime, I get so overwhelmed in my head with those thoughts that I can't control it. I seem to lose patience in the mating/dating game and do things exactly contrary to building a decent relationship and in the end my potential dude disappears (usually running for the hills and "whewing" himself that he escaped my clutches) OR I dismiss him because things aren't moving fast enough in the direction I desire. I do things that I later regret and I believe it's because by nature, I'm impatient. I don't know how to play the game. And on some level I think I lack some faith that things will happen as they should. And the sad thing is I'm not alone. Is it part of the human experience or are there just a lot of hurt and lonely people in the world? I don't know.

With certain technological advances, mostly cell phones and computers, we have access to each other 24/7. Before, when we gave a guy our phone number, we had to wait for him to call us...or not call us. Nowadays, we exchange numbers and have instance access to each other all because our Crackberries and iPhones make it so easy to start communicating right away. Instant access. Add in email and chat and the fact that cell phones now replace regular Ma Bell landlines and the availability is overwhelming. And God forbid we don't get responses. Every unanswered chat is a dismissal. Too long between texts or emails or calls and he must have met someone else or we must have said something we shouldn't have. It's maddening. Sometimes we find out the other party didn't have their phone with them, the text didn't go through until 12 hours later, their battery was recharging, their phone was on silent, or they were out with friends and not checking it. And of course it can be that they just don't want to talk to us because we're blowing up their cell phones and they're feeling our neediness and insecurity emanating through their phones. So many unknowns.

I'm vowing today to stop the madness!

I need to exercise some restraint with my beloved phone. And not just my phone but in my relationships with other people. I need to let things unfold and not try to force things. I need to BELIEVE that people like me and want to be around me and that one day I'll meet the right guy for that type of relationship I've always dreamed of (which may or may not be realistic but that's a topic for another day). Or maybe not...and I'll just like me a bit more. I'm willing to see.

And on a more personal note, instead of a philosophical essentially avoiding work blog post about patience, I'm going to try really hard to not message the guy in my life (even though I know he's wrong for me) while he's busy this week...his ex wife (number 1) is in town, staying with him actually. I don't have a relationship with this guy so I can't hold him to anything. He has had a previous 10-year relationship with this woman whereas he's only known me a month so she trumps me (though he divorced her, his choice...perhaps he'll recall while he did when she's here). Even though we've stayed in contact every day since then (thanks computers and cell phones), yesterday was the first day without any contact. I did not text him though I wanted to. I did not email him to see how his visit was going...even though I wanted to and thought about it all night (even after a couple of beers). I'm trying the patience bit. He is busy and so I'm letting him be. We've got plans next week and she leaves on Tuesday. I wonder if he'll contact me while she's here if I don't contact him or if I won't hear from him until she's gone. I wonder how that will feel. I'm going to try and not messsage him and see what happens. Is that a game? I don't know but I don't care. I do know that I may not have the strength to resist the call of Red (my crackberry) but we'll see.

TGIF!

Writing for the sake of writing

I don't like mornings. Well, let me rephrase. I don't like mornings when I have to go to work, especially beautifully sunny mornings when I really would rather be taking a nice walk or sitting outside enjoying some coffee. But no. I have to go. I have to make money so I can take care of bills. I have to earn the cheddar so I can buy stuff I don't always need and do my part to stimulate the economy. The American Dream!

Back to Basics

Back to Basics

It's officially 55 days until my sprint triathlon on June 28 so it's
time to get serious. If I want to be a bit competitive with myself
which of course I do, I am not going to just show up and hope I finish
it at some point. No, instead I must have a goal in mind or it really
doesn't work much for me. To meet this goal, I really need to train
and so train I will. I'm stepping that up officially today, Monday,
May 4. It's what I'm calling "Back to Basics".

What you may ask do I mean by "Back to Basics"? Well, I've been
struggling recently to keep my minimum 3 day-a-week training.
Actually, if I'm honest with myself, I'll realize I was sick for
almost a month and so of course my training suffered. Not only did my
training suffer, but so did my eating. Eating has been a struggle my
whole life, but for the most part I have a handle on it. Still, I am
not within the range I set for myself so it's time to step that up as
well. So, exercise and eating will be covered in my "Back to Basics"
plan as will a few other things that will contribute to an overall
healthier me so that I'm ready to kick some ass on Tri day. Let me
list it out in no particular order.

1. Track Everything. Everything? Pretty much. Track what? Food and
activity. Keep a daily log every day and record what I'm eating for
each meal with calorie counts, how much exercise I'm getting with
mileage and estimated calories burned, and track the intensities of my
workouts, time spent, etc. in a hand log that I'll keep with me at the
gym.

When I do these things, I'm able to stay on track. It's when I let
things slip and am not paying attention (or am in denial really) that
I start to backslide. Saturday's weigh in was the reality there. I
will not be another statistic. Granted, the scale was up due to water
retention (hello PMS), I was sick, I quit smoking, AND I became a
vegetarian (which some would think would help you lose weight but I
tend to eat too much cheese and way too many carbs if I'm not
careful). These are not excuses but realities. I just need to start
dealing with them and one fairly simple way (for me anyway) to be
accountable is to write it all down. I know for many people this would
not work but luckily for me I'm an analyst so I don't mind collecting
this data.

2. Adjust Diet. Ok, that looks so simple. Two words. 10 letters. A
lifetime of struggle. Anyway, this means reducing the amount of
alcohol, sweets, and chips/salsa I eat in a week. This means a
concerted effort to eat more fruits and vegetables and to reduce the
number of simple carbs I'm taking in. This means keeping calorie
counts in the 1500-1700 calorie range most days with only a few times
per week to indulge. This means eating out less often and making my
own meals. This means a reduction in the price of beer…ok, no...that's
a lyric but I mean a reduction in the amount of beer I drink which is
to say hardly any at all. Pout. It is what it is. I am of the school
of math camp…calories in, calories out. Is it an exact science? No,
but it's not that far off if you ask me. I just need to be smarter
about the types and quantities of foods I'm eating and drink more
water. Sounds simple but it's this Basic that I fear the most.

3. Strength Train. GROAN. Most people I know love strength training
but I really hate it and I'm not afraid to admit it. I don't like
being in pain. Cardio is simple to me because you just breathe hard
and sweat for a specific period of time and then you're done. You burn
a ton of calories too which I love. Rarely is there pain. Rarely is
there the type of pain that makes walking down stairs complete torture
or the prospect of sitting down to take a pee wish you had some
Depends. I'm just saying. Still, I understand the importance of it and
so I will rededicate myself to this torture…uh, I mean,
reality…because I know that I need my large muscles (legs and butt)
and core to be strong if I want to do any running at my tri. The very
minimal practice sessions I have had at riding a bike for 30 minutes
and then jumping onto the treadmill have made me realize it's going to
be really hard. My legs felt like jelly after having been in that
cycling position for so long and running was just not happening after
a few minutes. My body said no. The reality is I need to be as strong
as possible in order to meet my time goal and to do that, I have to
push my legs to the limit and endure the stair/toilet issues I
described above. (I'm still trying to figure out what my time goal
is, but I think 1 hr 30 minutes would be awesome…maybe a bit
aggressive, but awesome nonetheless. We shall see.)

4. Get Enough Rest. I am guilty of not sleeping enough quite
regularly. I am going to strive to get seven hours of sleep a night.
Well, how about six? I need to work on this one.

5. Write More. As if I didn't have enough to do, I really need to
write how I'm feeling through this whole thing. I think it's exciting
that I'm pushing myself and so I want to remember it. One way to do
that will be to document the journey.

I think that's it for now. It's enough, don't you think?