Sometimes it Sneaks Up on You

It funny, how you haven't thought much about someone in months, and then all of a sudden, WHAM. It is all everyone can talk about it.

Okay, I am being dramatic here.

But on Sunday I showed up at a BBQ with Max and Laura (who were in town from Boston). There were a lot of people there that I haven't seen for ages. In the midst of the hellos, I heard from behind the grill - "hey, we are missing the tall one..." referring to, yup, none other than Boston. It wasn't loud enough for everyone to hear and the host quickly explained that we were no long together (yeah, I said it was people I hadn't seen in ages). But it was enough.

It is weird to think that we could have still be together, and it would have been normal (maybe almost expected) to those around us. Boston himself said we had never reached our peak, that we could have had fun together for 2 or 3 more years. Just not for forever.

As M&L dropped me off after the BBQ, I asked what they were doing for the rest of the night. They were having dinner with him. Go figure. It took me off guard. I'm glad they were honest. I didn't know what to say. Except to tell them that when/if he asked how I was, that they weren't to tell him anything about me. They were pretty surprised by my strong reaction, but he made a choice to not be a part of my life, and to me, that means all the way. I don't want him to know about my life, and in return, I want to know nothing of his.

And then, to top it all off, I'm talking to a high school bestie who (innocently) just happens to ask when I've heard from Boston last. Perfect timing.

I'm hoping Max and Laura drop it and don't bring it up again. Just like I hope that Laura drops the whole JP-situation (I've been completely honest with her about how I feel so she shouldn't continue to try to make it something that it isn't). Because if they drop it, this whole thing is just a little blip on the radar. It is a reminder that I still have some scars. And I'm still holding on to a bit of the past. But that I'm moving past all this and the little blips might sneak up on me, but don't bother me for too long.

Always a bridesmaid...

Next week I head to Rhode Island for my 7th trip down the aisle. As a bridesmaid, that is.

Don’t get me wrong, I love that my friends love me enough to ask me to take part in their special day. But the whole thing is getting a bit… shall I say, old. The dress, the hair, the nails, the extra night at the hotel (Plus the plane ticket, given that 6 out of 7 of these weddings have been all the way across the country. And the 7th? Hawaii.) – it’s expensive. And time consuming.

My biggest issue is the dress, specifically that I swear there is a conspiracy in the works between bridesmaid dress manufacturers and seamstresses. I mean seriously, I can go pick a dress of the rack at almost any store in the mall and, generally speaking, it fits. Yet every single bridesmaid dress I have bought (OK I am lying, all but the one I bought at Nordstrom that wasn’t an actual bridesmaid dresses) has required alterations.

I don’t get it. I’ve got an average body. I’m 5’-6,” weigh-in in the 130s-range, have 34C boobs. I have muscles and hips, but nothing to cause you to stop and stare. Yet the dress never fits. What gives?!?!

I only needed “minor” alterations this time around – shortening of the straps and a stitch or two in the front to increase the decency level. That is another issue, seriously… I am the least endowed bridesmaid and am completely mortified with how much boob I will be showing both inside a church and in front of grandparents. Anyway, these “minor” alterations are costing me 40 bucks, which doesn’t come anywhere close to comparing to the time the alterations cost MORE than the dress itself (!!). But still, that is the equivalent to like 3 or 4 beers in Norway (I kid you not! Safe to say I won't be indulging in too many beers on vacation.).

And will I ever wear the dress again? I’ll give you one guess.

(Note: I am extremely happy for the bride and wouldn’t miss her wedding for the world!)

Email to KC Turned Post on my Blog

Last week JP said we should go hiking after he finished up his exams. I said lets go this weekend (as in the one coming up) and he said yes. Then this weekend people were going to a bar that I am way too old to show my face at, but it was MJ's birthday (she is younger than me, therefore it is acceptable for her to celebrate there). I asked JP and my crush turned best buddy if they were going. JP said he felt old (me too!) but would go if I did. So I picked him up. It was fun until it got crowded and people got drunk (including him and everyone else, but not me). We didn't stay out late, but I had a good time. That night Nik asked me what was going on between him and I - you know us hiking together, going canoeing... It probably was a loaded question keeping in mind that Nik and MJ are pretty good friends with JP. They probably talk to him more than I do - bc half the time he freaking ignores me! I just kind of brushed it off bc it is a long explanation. See below.

Then yesterday MJ comes by to ask if she can borrow my tent for the weekend. I tell her that JP and I are going hiking (and I had been planning the whole time to invite others) so if her and her boyfriend are camping near where we hike, they should meet us. She is like - wait, but isn't it a date? Ummm... no, we are just hiking. And she was like yes it is, he thinks it is... It was obvious he had been talking to her about it.

But it isn't a date - it is the same as us doing things together like we always have. Right?

So I basically freaked out about it after she left (I was also in the middle of writing an email to my advisor about how much school sucks, which was stressing me out too). *This is the see below part* There is nothing wrong with JP. He is nice (again, except when he is ignoring me), smart, cute, blah blah blah. But I don't think I can or want to be in a relationship right now. I don't feel like I am able to trust someone now. And I've already lost a good friend (Boston) because we got into a relationship that didn't work. It sucked and I don't want to do that again. It was fine to be flirting with my crush turned best buddy (before we actually became friends) and to go out on several dates with that guy I met on that crazy night out before Christmas because that was all inconsequential, but I feel like this does have more consequences.

Yeah, I'm a bit lonely and having a guy to occupy my time and say nice things to me would be nice - but I don't think that guy should be the one whose office sits directly above mine.

So now I don't know what to do. This hike could be so awkward!?!

Guys (and school) are so frustrating. I need to get on a plane and just blow this joint. 2 weeks and counting...

Waiting Game

Patience is not my strong suit. And, like many females, I over analyze.

Case in point:

I applied for a fellowship. There are numerous funding levels, with the grand prize being 3 years of tuition and a stipend (aka – paycheck). If I got this fellowship, I would get paid to do my dissertation research. If I don’t, I’ll still get paid, but just have to do additional research on top of my dissertation research. It won’t be the end of the world, but it sure would be nice to not have to split my energies.

5 people in my program applied for fellowship. 2 heard back last week. They are both masters students and got small awards. 3 have not, the 3 PhD students.

It is sufficient to say I am freaking out. Yes or no, either way, I just want to know.

I've thought of every reason why I haven't heard yet. The good and the bad.

My advisor suggested I call and ask when I'd be hearing.

But today I decided to just let it go. I'm leaving it up to the powers that be and whatever happens will happen eventually. And amazingly, I feel completely relaxed about the whole thing now!

I'm still checking my advisor's mailbox several times a day while she is out of town though!

A Few Inches Taller and Pounds Lighter, alternatively titled: Unanswered Emails

Figuratively, that is. The weight has been lifted. 6 months of stress (or really a whole year) have come to an end. I finished up teaching and I finished up my qualifying exam. Now I am working on a couple of research projects and auditing a class. I am going to go home at 5pm today, and every day this week. The 60 to 70 hour work weeks are over. The past week has been a time of decompression. It has been an adjustment, but I can slowly feel the stress lifting off my body and my mind. I have things to look forward to, namely the return of nice weather, but I still worry some.

Spending most of my waking hours in my windowless office helped take my mind off (parts of) the mess with Boston, Laura and Max’s move to Boston, and KC’s 6+ month trip to Europe – collectively known as the mass exodus of my closest friends. I missed them all less because I really didn’t have time to miss them, or much spare time at all. But now what? I’ll be home early every night this week and while I have 3 old US Weekly’s and the 4th Twilight book sitting on the nightstand, plus a major “Clean Out and Cozy Up” (more soon on this!) project all waiting for me at home - I don’t have plans for dinner, or drinks, or to watch a movie, or even to go for a run…

I sent some emails over the past week. Emails that went unanswered, not intentionally (I hope) but unanswered all the same. To my friend, trying to schedule dinner at that Mexican place we’ve been talking about for weeks. To the guy I went on a strangely lackluster date with last week that really didn’t warrant a response unless he decided that I was right and he was wrong. To another guy I was going to go on a date with this week, leaving me in a position where I don’t feel like I can email him again. To my roommate’s friend (my friend too?) telling her that if they really did have an extra spot, I’d love to head up to Vancouver for the race. All emails about things to look forward to, that never materialized.

It is not the end of the world. Life isn’t all woe is me these days. I mean, on Friday I effed up my taxes (realizing it 5 seconds after I hit submit on Turb0Tax) and found out my paper was rejected from publication all within 30 minutes of one another. Normally I would cry after an afternoon like that, but not a tear was shed – that is progress! It is just that I don’t have a lot of outlets for my frustration. This blog is one of the best outlets, you know?

I just emailed my CL running friend to hopefully plan a run tomorrow. And just remembered that another friend wanted to go see I Love You Man. So even if I don’t go for Mexican this week or don’t get to spend a weekend in Canada (and don’t get me started on this recent dating!), I’ll survive. But I’ll still hope for some emails in the inbox tomorrow morning.

I was looking for someone to run with. He was looking for someone to drink with.

Random, but I went on a date last night.

Saturday I was bummed, I finally had some time to chill and was basically smacked in the face with the fact that most my friends royally suck these days. OK, that isn’t nice. True… but still not nice. Where did all my awesome friends go? (Answer: Boston, Copenhagen, Asshole-land, Boyfriend-ville…). After a good cry into my pillow (my go-to when it comes to tears), I finally had formulated what I was upset about. I want people in my life that take initiative – initiative to do things, initiative to have fun, initiative to not wait for someone else to make the plans. I wasn’t looking for a wild and crazy night, unless you consider renting movies and eating popcorn too much to handle. Of the various excuses, one took home the prize: “I went to the eye doctor this morning (approximately 10 hours prior to movie time) and had my eyes dilated so I think I want to stay close to home.” WTF?! I’m not asking you to read the NYT to me under bright lights or something. And I live 10 freaking blocks away. Whatever.

I decided to take matters into my own hands and find some new fun friends with initiative. Via Craigslist. Yeah, that could be trouble. Sticking to the “Strictly Platonic” section, I sought out females (between the ages of 28 and 33) looking for other females to hang out with. I came across one post that sounded promising and sent a cheerful email her way. Not finding much else out there in the way of new BFFs, I headed over to “Men Seeking Women,” mainly in search of a laugh.

Between

“Looking for a pantyhose lover to hang out with. C'mon. I'm a cool guy, and normal, too. Just looking for a woman that likes to wear pantyhose. I enjoy looking at women that wear pantyhose. There's gotta be a match out there somewhere, right?”

and

“Anyone want to make out today? I'm off, so anytime is fine. Not looking for more than cuddling up and kissing for a while. Age not important, you need to host, or be up for meeting somewhere. Lets trade pics and get kissing soon... “

I actually found a guy that sounded pretty good on paper.

Smart/dorky? Check.
Active? Check.
Confident? Check.
Good looking? Check.

Initiative? Man, I hope so.

He wanted to grab a drink that night, but I was in my pjs, drinking a bottle, err glass, of wine, getting ready to watch a cheesy romantic comedy with my roomie. But I took the plunge, sending him an email (with pictures attached) saying I had plans for the evening, but would be interested in a drink some other time.

So there we were – Sunday evening, enjoying one of my favorite happy hours, sitting at a table with a killer view overlooking the water. Three hours of conversation flew by and all expectations were exceeded. We said goodbye in the parking lot, both saying we’d have to do it again once I finished up with my finals and got back from conference in Oregon. I meant it. I thought he did too.

I drove home with a smile. Thinking about what it would be like to kiss him.

But then the girl in me started to analyze.

#1 We split the bill. Call me old-fashion, but I like it when the guy pays, especially when on a first date (I mean it was a date, right?). Even when dating someone, I’m much more a fan of – you pay this time, I’ll pay next time – it makes it feel more, I don’t know, special? This is a tough one to call – did he want to give off the vibe that he wasn’t feeling it? Is he cheap? Did he not want to offend me in case I was a feminist or something?

#2 The goodbye wasn't totally natural. I don’t know what I would have wanted – a kiss would have been overkill and I don’t do hugs (but he doesn’t know that). He did however put his hand on my shoulder when making a point about something moments before we parted ways. Hmmm… good right?

#3 He hasn’t emailed today to say he had a good time. I think I said I’d get in touch with him when I am back in town, but that doesn’t mean he can’t initiate contact before that, right? I feel like I have been bombarded with the idea that if a guy really likes you or wants to see you again, he is going to make a point to let you know. That the 3 day rule is so passé. In the past I’d have no problem sending him an email saying that I had fun and was looking forward to seeing him again, but after being completely unaware of how my last boyfriend truly felt about our relationship, I’m really going to need some positive, blatant reinforcement in the next relationship.

#4 He said in his post that he “would be thrilled if there was a spark,” but was also content to just make friends outside of his current circle. I said I wasn’t looking too hard for a new relationship, but wasn’t not looking either. How do I know if he thinks there is potential for the spark, or if he has already ruled it out?

#5 He might be too “water” and I might be too “mountains.” I’m getting way ahead of myself here (unconscious sabotage anyone?) but his job requires him to be near the ocean. My personal requirement for a future job is easy access to the mountains. He loves to surf like I love to ski. But maybe I should wait for Date #2 to worry about this one, huh?

So what do you guys think? I’m hesitant to talk about this with any of my (non-internet based) friends because then it becomes a little more real. I’ve been holding on to my past relationship as a defense mechanism to prevent me from getting hurt again, and while I know I need to move on – I’m scared. Scared, but hopeful.

I just need to chill, right?

Oh – and the potential new BFF? No word from her (and her post is gone). It was like a 50 word email. Did I really come off that uncool in so few words?

When is Enough is Enough?

The funk doesn't lift. I can't even tell if I am trying or not. It may be that I really don't even have the time to try. Too much school, too many obligations to keep myself from feeling lonely. In those moments of happiness I have from time to time, is it real happiness? Not really.

There is a counseling center at school. It is free (or I think it is). KC went last year. She speaks highly of it, but I don't know if I am ready to admit to myself that I could use some help.

Excerpts from my latest email to KC:

I don't know why Boston is upsetting me so much again. I think I just miss him because I am lonely. The whole situation exhausts me. I was on constant alert looking for him at Alpental (my ski hill) both days. And then worried that he might be at this ultimate fighting thing that Shell invited me to (because that girl he is/was dating was invited). And then Steve (roommate) went snowboarding yesterday at Crystal and I sit there wondering, did he go with Boston. Is he having to feel stuck in the middle of the whole situation because that sucks for Boston to do that to him. I also hesitate emailing Steph about skiing because of Boston/Skanky Girl - never do. He is totally on my mind, can't concentrate sort of stuff. I want to call/email him but I won't. I did break down and check his facebook - Skanky Girl wrote on his wall - ugh! (I don't think I ever told this story - but they are friends. He actually straight up lied to me about hanging out with her. Same as last boyfriend. What the hell is it with her and my exboyfriends? She came up to me all drunked at a bar in December and had the nerve to act all buddy-buddy to my face.)

So this is a funny story related to all that - I go to call E___ and instead of going straight to "e" I scroll down, including through the "d"s. And omg there is Boston's number!?!?! I had gotten a new phone last week or the week before and I had to save my number to the card from the old phone to put on the new phone. and I guess it really doesn't delete the numbers?!? Because there it f-ing was! Cute, young boy at school told me it was a sign that I should call him. I wanted to listen to him and call, but I deleted it (although I guess nothing is truly deleted).

Anyway, I don't know how it all happened, but I am not over Boston. I don't know what happened or why. Because I think I was before. but now I want him to get his shit figured out and it all to be better between us. I want him to call or email, or do something. I want to call or email him. I want to see him - mostly so I can get over this fear of running into him, but also because I want to see him. I want him to know that I miss him, because he might miss me too but be afraid to say anything. Or if he doesn't then at least I would know that instead of just wondering. He probably does miss me but not in the same way I miss him. I hate him and I love him and I just don't know what to do.

Okay, that was just a big vomit of emotions. deep down I am going to be okay, I just hate feeling on edge with him around but not around. And I hate that I feel like this when I have a pretty good life and I shouldn't complain. Ugh...

miss you, but not in a make you feel guilty for not being here sort of way.

- k

This shit got old a long time ago...

Things which make me happy...

Buying plane tickets. Michigan (aka state #44) here I come.

Homemade chili.

Homemade ziti (I'm a regular Martha Stewart this weekend).

Absolutely loving teaching this quarter - yay, I know what I want to be when I grow up!

Birthdays. Even if they mean you are getting older.

25 year old guys who tell you, with absolutely certainty, that there is no way in hell that you are turning 30 in a few days. I talked to a few of these guys at a party. And they made my night.

H&M. Seriously, why did it take so long for us to get one (or 3) here?!?

Haircuts and fun new bangs.

Deannawhaaaat?

My largest guilty pleasure is most certainly The Bachelor (PBR – almost sacrilegious in the land of the microbrew here - comes in a close second). Ironically, The Bachelor (and Bachelorette) nursed me through two breakups, and if I had to choose one reality show to watch for the rest of all time… well, I might choose Top Chef… but it would be a hard one.

I’ve tended to watch it alone – often from my bed, in my pajamas, with puffy eyes. But I made some new friends this summer, and one of the first things we bonded over was our opinions of Deanna’s choice of Jesse over Jason (another story for another post). So when Jason was picked as the new bachelor, we decided we’d most certainly get together to watch our hometown cutie find the love of his life*.

And that brings us to last night and “The Draft.”

3 ladies, 2 husbands, 5 bucks each – and we have ourselves a fantasy Bachelor league! My picks:

Jillian
Lauren
Nicole
Lisa
Treasure

I’m holding my own with 3 girls left after the first round. And my competitive streak came out last night during the rose ceremony – I think my new friends were a little, umm shocked. Like I need more incentive to watch the Bachelor – can’t wait for Monday (thank goodness for tv on the internet since I’ll be spending my evening with my favorite DC blogger buddy!)!

And yeah. We get it. Jason works out a lot.

And one more... Deanna is back?!?! WTF?

* or month

Shameless Flirting

When I go over my allotment of text messages this month it is going to be all his fault.

It all started when he asked me to "make out" on halloween. I declined. It was nothing personal I said. I just don't think boys are worth my time nowadays (code for: I am scared shitless just thinking about getting into another relationship), and well... he was born in 1985. I, on the other hand, am turning 30 in 2 mere months.

But then the age thing morphed into a positive. I mean, he is too young for it to be anything serious, right? I'm lonely. He is cute. And polite. And smart. And snowboards (not as cool as skiing, but it will do). And I actually feel comfortable around him, well except when he started to inch towards me as we were walking down the hallway today. But what did I think he was going to do, plant a big smacker on me right there or something?

I'm not quite sure how (or if) we are going to shift from this shameless text flirting to something more. Could we even have a relationship that isn't serious, doesn't include sex, is relatively secret (I'm not down with everyone in my grad program knowing my business), and makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside?

Oh and did I mention that if we crash and burn, we'll still have to see each other every day in the hall for the next 4 years?!?!

I should just walk away right now. But I probably won't. Feel free to tell me "told you so" next month.

I Learn Something New Everyday

My mom - she is a shopaholic. She has been known to go to the mall 3 times in one day. She lives for sales. She is very passionate about her Christmas shopping.

Over the weekend she called and left a rather serious sounding message. I *needed* to get downtown and try on some boots so she would know what size I wore. While I don't want to hamper any present buying (especially considering how I can't even remember the last time I bought myself an article of clothing or a pair of footware), getting downtown to try on boots isn't as easy as it seems to my darling mother. I mean, seriously, I haven't been able to find the time to even get to the grocery store in the past few weeks (no wonder why I am losing weight - I have nothing to eat?!?!).

But alas, on Monday evening I took a little break from my school work and found myself downtown. I had a few minutes to spare before meeting Shell for a pre-concert drink and ducked into JCrew to try these babies on...

What I learned? First, that these really don't look all that cute on.

But more importantly, OMG my feet smell like something climbed into my shoes and died!! I've never known myself to have stinky feet, put as I shrugged my shoes off, this gawd-awful smell permeated through the entire shoe section!! After trying on the boots and getting dagger eyes from the sales girl, I couldn't get my kicks back on and get out of the store fast enough.

And ever since, I've been haunted by the lingering funky-feet smell despite numerous good scrubbings. I think I might have pulled a muscle this morning, trying to figure out if they really did smell or if it was just my imagination! When? Why? How did this happen?

Anyone else have stinky feet? How do you take care of the problem?

Oh - and while I wasn't a fan of the JCrew boots, I think I am digging these 2 pairs. What do you think?

There Was a 2

I went to renew my locker at the gym on Monday and was lured in by the huge scale in the corner of the locker room. I have a relationship with that scale, I weigh myself a lot. But I haven’t been to the gym in 6 weeks (yes, count them people, SIX! weeks), and therefore not on the scale in 6 weeks either.

People have been known to tell me how much they hate me because I am not a stress or emotional eater. I’m the opposite. I completely lose my appetite. Considering that my craptastic summer was filled with both academic and personal stress, and I have been an emotional nutcase, I haven’t been hungry in months. Add to that my lack of physical activity, which leads to more loss of appetite because I went from running/hiking/biking/swimming… 6 or 7 days a week to just sitting around all day. Damn knee! I knew I had lost weight but still found myself shocked at the numbers on the scale.

There was a 2. It wasn’t the first number. Or the last. It was right there in the middle. Granted, I’ve probably lost a lot of muscle over the past few weeks, but I haven’t weighed that much since… ever?

It is a bittersweet feeling. I look good. People have commented that I look good. But I was happy with my body when there was a 3 in there. My clothes are looser, but I don’t really have any money to buy new ones. I tried on a pair of jeans in a size which I never bought before. And they fit. Without having to struggle with them over my hips. Do I cough up the money to buy them? Will I feel like crap when I gain a couple of pounds back (I think it is inevitable, right?) and they don’t fit anymore? I wish I had to sweat to lose this weight. To have actually put some work into it.

The number on the scale isn’t worth all that I have dealt with recently. I’d gain back all those pounds, and then some, not to have had my heart broken. I’d gain back all those pounds, and then some, to have my best friend back in Seattle. I’d gain back all those pounds, and then some, to be able to run again.

But I guess I should rock the 2 while I’ve got it.

And go eat that pb&j sitting in my lunch bag.

A Not So Perfect Rebound

So, BMG and I have spent loads of time together over the past week or so. We've texted. We've talked. We've had dinner. We've had drinks. Or I should say I had drinks and he was entertained by me. And we've flirted. Subtlely.

I wish he wasn't my friend. I wish I didn't value our friendship. Because otherwise, I'd jump that man in a second!

He is so cute. And so fun. And such a good cuddler. I know from experience. Plus I trust him - something that doesn't happen all too often nowadays.

I just want someone to make me feel good. And to make me feel wanted. He could do it. But we'd be certain to mess up our friendship.

I never understood it before, but I get the rebound now. It makes you feel better. Too bad BMG is a not so perfect rebound. Cuz he is almost perfect.

Cute. Not So Cute.

Cute: Dress courtesy of Mom in the "Yay, you finally finished your thesis" care package.

Not So Cute: Knee brace courtesy of the sports medicine doc at school. Funky tan lines here I come!

And That is How You Know You're Old

Friday night I found myself somewhere I hadn't been in a while, in a bar that was packed with those looking to see and be seen. Girls were showing a lot of skin. Guys spent longer getting ready for their night out than I had. As you walked past people, they automatically looked you up and down. It took FOR.EVER to get a drink at the bar.

While a place like this has never been my favorite, a few years ago I could tolerate it - maybe even suggest it on a rare occasion. But it had the makings for fun night as I was with a friend whose company I enjoy and a few acquaintences (and a few of their acquaintences) who were content with enjoying each other's company without trolling for members of the opposite sex.

Or so I thought.

It started with an "innocent" question by one of the acquaintences of an acquaintence (I don't even remember his name, obviously he made quite an impression during the introductions...). "Do you have a boyfriend?" I should have thought quicker. I should have lied. But I told the truth, I said no. He made some awkward small talk and asked me to save a dance for him. Now keep in mind this isn't a dance club. There was a small contingent of dancers up near the stage and pop music was being played in between sets of an irish band, but dancing was not the main attraction. Personally, I wasn't there to dance.

The night progresses and people get more drunk, except me because I am driving. I don't see Boy Whose Name I Don't Remember for awhile, and then all of a sudden he is next to me, with his arm around my shoulder. I should mention that I am NOT a hugger. I like my personal space. I'll give you a hug if something really great happens to you, or really awful. And the hug will be genuine, but otherwise, there is no need to wrap your arms around me! I shake free from his grasp as he full on starts to hit on me. He is laying it on thick and I am obviously not interested. Not interested to the point where he calls me out on it, and starts to making comments in an attempt to make me feel guilty about my lack of interest. I mumble something about still getting over someone (true) and walk away. As we are ushered out of the bar after last call, he is still pestering me about hanging out sometime in the future.

Seriously. Just because I am SINGLE and in a *gasp* BAR, doesn't mean I am down with being hit on incessantly, and then, on top of that, being made to feel guilty about not reciprocating the "feelings." HELLO?!?!

I wasn't being a bitch to him solely because I was not interested. It really wasn't all that personal, or it wasn't until he took it too far. In fact, there was another guy, who if I had to guess, was a bit interested in me as well. Again, I'm not interested (kinda still wrapped up in that whole Boston thing, even if he won't talk to me), but this guy had an actual conversation with me. He knows my name, my thesis topic, what I like to do in my free time. And actually, that is why he might sorta have a thing for me (although he may not, what do I know) - because he likes to do the things I like to do. Because he asked me intelligent questions and I responded intelligently. Because I was acting like myself due to him making me feel comfortable.

And that was flattering. Even if I am not interested.

Boy Whose Name I Don't Remember should take a lesson from this guy if he wants to find himself a lady.

Needless to say, you won't be finding me at one of those bars again anytime soon.

(And just how do you know you are old? When you wake up in the morning after just two beers and feel like you have a hangover because you stayed out too late! True story.)

To Cut or Not To Cut

I’ve been dying to cut my hair since Boston and I broke up in May. It is the longest it has been in ages, and I’ve always been big on changing it up pretty regularly. But I decided to hold off until after the wedding.

The wedding came and went, and I thought about chopping it all off again. But this time there was a big backpacking trip in the works (which I am leaving for in 2 hours – yay!). I thought about huffing my way up a steep a** mountain with 35 pounds on my back? A ponytail seems the way to go. So I said I’d wait until after the trip.

I’ve started flipping through magazines, looking for the perfect cut, knowing that I’ll just end up with a bob and bangs again. Then I spied the newly acquired curlers in the bathroom. I bought them a few months ago but hadn’t used them yet. I gave them a whirl (so what if I was just spending the evening vegging on the couch), and love the results.

So now I want to wait until after Laura and Max’s going away party so I can curl my hair again (and be the hostess with the most-ess, I’ve already gotten my outfit picked out). Then I’ll be lounging a week away in the Mediterranean, where it is likely to be too hot to do anything by toss my hair into a ponytail. And then I’m sure there will be another half-marathon in my future…

At this rate my hair is going to be down to my a** by Christmas. But boys like long hair, right?

I Suck at Pilates

I don't suck* at too many things. Basketball... cleaning... cooking (I'm obviously not a Martha Stewart in the making) - not my fortes. And I suck at Pilates.

I don't mind pushing my body. I thrive on seeing myself improve. And I like to feel like I'm working hard.

So after 3 classes, I just can't figure out why I haven't felt the burn yet. It is frustrating. I want to know I'm doing something. I WANT it to hurt when I laugh.

Especially when I have to get up at 6:45am to ride my bike to class. For the record, I don't get up at 6:45 without a fight.

So here I am at 10:30 on a Sunday night, deciding if pilates is in my Monday morning future. It doesn't look good. My motivation is waning.

Maybe I should try yoga instead.

(*Not to say I'm perfect at everything, but I can at least get by. Or fake it.)

High Expectations

I'm having a hard time trusting people right now. There are only two people that I trust enough to truly open up about the chaos going on inside of me. One is Gris (my best-est grad school friend), who has been a lifesaver time and time again over the past few weeks. And the other is Boston. Which is really f'ed up considering that at the same time I trust him enough to open up, I have a hard time trusting that he won't hurt me.

Everyone else I've just sort of shied away from. I've even shied away from writing about it all in my blog. When people ask how things are going I say fine and start talking about the plane ticket I booked to Cyprus this week (yay!), how my thesis is *this* close to being finished, or upcoming camping trips. I deflect questions about Max and Laura leaving, and especially about my "relationship" with Boston. I can't trust myself enough not to cry when talking about these things. I don't want others to see just how bad things are. I just want to be happy, and if I can't have that, well then I'll fake it.

But things were going well will Boston. Until yesterday.

He did something that upset me. Something he knew would upset me.

He thinks I expect too much from him. That I expect him to bat a thousand and there is no room for error. That I am only looking at what he did "wrong" and failing to remember all that he did "right."

He is right.

But I've realized that he expects too much from me too. He expects me to be tougher, to handle all this change with a bit more strength. He doesn't understand, or won't let himself understand why I am this upset.

We both expect so much out of each other, I think because we both know what the other is capable of. I know he is a thoughtful, smart man. He knows I am a strong, independent woman. He isn't being thoughtful. I'm not being strong. We are both frustrated about the other not being all they can be. And we are both too stubborn cut the other some slack.

After a 90 minute phone call, we came to no conclusions. I don't know what we do next. I don't know what I do next.

Welcome to the Jungle

Before:

Seriously, the grass was over a foot high!

Learning to mow:

That's my roommate who, like me, had never used a lawnmower before: blame 4 older brothers (her) and anal fathers (me).

We typically take care of the indoors chores, but when the lawn-moving roommate decided to take a 2 month vacation (can you say jealous?!?!), we decided it was time to learn how to use a lawnmower.

You should see our yard now! Well, I guess I should have taken an "after" picture...

Friday Nights: 2000

For the last year and a half of college (from my 21st birthday on) I spent every Friday evening at the same bar. Happy hour started at 5. There was a $5 cover. But there was free food. The pizza was actually good. So were the fries. Maybe that is why bordered on “overweight” senior year. That and the 50 cents beers. At that point in my life I could put 10 away in a few hours… no problem. For $10 I was fed, drunk, and entertained. They always had a band. Typically a cover band. To which we sang along and boogied down. And the best part was you were home and in bed by 11. After a quick stop at WaWa, of course.

I laughed and I cried there. Some of my best college memories happened inside those doors. And those are just the ones I actually remember. Friends have been back since. They say it just isn’t the same. I prefer to just remember it as it was then.