rgc
The Original RGC
Friday, November 7
Wednesday, October 29
Flipping the Script
I survived this horrible break up (and often horrible relationship) almost two years ago. I endured and came out stronger than before with lessons learned and ready to date and mingle. After spending time at bars, museums, coffee shops and other big city hot spots for finding men and a few dates here and there, a good friend recommended dipping my toe in the pool of online dating. He had met his boyfriend of five years through a site and gave me several examples of friends that had done the same. I gathered the courage and that night created my first online profile with the aim of dating and hopefully much more.
After I posted some pictures and crafted a brief and witty biography of who I am and what I was looking for I began to get responses and inquiries. It was fun- emailing, phone conversations and real life dates with real life men of an assorted ilk. Some were socially awkward and wanted second dates while others were what I thought were genuine starts to something-- anything-- resulting in absolutely nothing. It was the first time that I ever took the time to aggressively date and I enjoyed it all. Even the bad dates were chalked up to a new story to share or write about.
I knew I was a catch and had some fun times to offer these gents. I went out on a number of what would turn out to be the first and last date. I started to get a little paranoid because I was still at the stage where dating seemed much more personal than it really is. In reality, dating is finding what works for you and has little to nothing to do with the genuine qualities of the person you are sincerely not interested in. Someone out there will want to date the germ-a-phobe virgin I went to the movies with. And I am quite sure that the handsome investment banker who would return my calls but wouldn't go out with me again will eventually find a woman that will break down his walls. It is a guarantee that the lanky Brazilian-German man who looked like snoopy with short locks growing from his head will eventually meet the woman who is cool with smoking weed outside a movie theater on a first date and who wants to kiss his clammy-fish textured lips for more than a peck. And the universe only knows how these and many other men might describe me. I have no desire to know their opinions nor does it keep me up at night conjuring up possible reasons why I couldn't get that second date even with the men that seemed to click with me. I got to a point in the dating adventures where I assumed a date would be a generally good time and result in not much more.
Eventually I found a taker for a second, third and a few dates beyond. After an incredibly awkward first date we actually clicked and ultimately simultaneously decided that we weren't going to be a match even after some fun times and little bit of passion. It was an easy end to a romantic false start. I continued to communicate with and date as frequently as possible men from both the online world and those I would occasionally meet in the 'real life' forums.
These exploits and escapades led me into the arms of a dating partner for a couple of months. He was a bit older and had a good sense of humor. Things started with some steam- a couple of dates and some make out sessions. We had a good time talking on the phone and going out once or twice a week- dinner, movies, brunch. It was fun but nothing spectacular. Looking back, I know I should have just cut off the nice guy who was sweet but boring after only a couple of weeks. But I was lonely and he was someone to pass some time with. I contemplated moving on after he explained for the third time that he was excited that because of the current home finance crisis and the money he had saved away he could look at buying a home in the next few months. I mean, good for you, but do I have to hear about it three times? But I didn't end it. I continued to date other men and assumed he was dating other women. We never got to a serious point after two months of very casual interactions but it was nice to know I had someone thinking about me.
One of these dates with other men led to major sparks immediately. After my second date with the man who would become my boyfriend and love of my life I knew that this new connection trumped anything I currently had brewing and took me off the market for what looks like for good. After my third date with the new gent I knew I had to end things with Mr. Snooze. I knew that any date or phone conversation with him would only include my mind wandering to the new stirring feelings for the man I met when I finally thought I would never meet anyone. I became very hard to get a hold of for a few days as I recovered from sleep deprivation brought on by my dates and took some time to think. In the mean time he left me several voice mails and text messages:
Text: "Sorry to bug! But I want to ask you about something this weekend."
Voice mail: "Hey, It's me. What are you up to this weekend? Give me a call. I got two tickets to Coachella and a friend is letting us stay there. Do you want to go?"
Text: "Give me a call! Want to talk about this weekend!"
This was so odd as we had never talked about spending a weekend together and hadn't even been very physical since the second week or so. I must admit that if I wasn't already experiencing thrilling passion, I might have been tempted to join the guy on this little adventure. As it stood, I had become clear after my first day with my current boyfriend that I was removing myself from the dating world at least to see what would happen next. I made up an excuse that I had to work that weekend and it was not going to be possible to change anything. In reality, I spent an amazing weekend with my new man exploring the city not giving even a moments thought to what could have been a so-so time at a music festival with a so-so guy.
After that weekend I knew that I had to take care of business as soon as possible. In what would be one of my most awkward phone conversations, I ended our relationship. But it was no normal breakup.
Me: "Hey... I hope you had fun at the festival. So, I think that you are a really nice and I've had a good time getting to know you the past few weeks but I think that this has gone as far as it's going to go..." I mumbled and stumbled the whole way through.
Him: "Oh, uh, I see... Well, how long have you been feeling this way?"
Me (internal thought): "Um, since you were boring me to near tears..."
Me (external conversation): "Just over the last week or so... That's part of the reason I was hard to get ahold of the last week or so."
Him: "I understand. Yeah. It was kind of hard to figure out our connection. I just want you to know that no matter what, you are a really great girl and I had a lot of fun with you. No matter what. I hope you are okay with this."
WHAT?! You hope I'm okay with this? Are you serious? I called this guy to end things and I'm the one who had to work up to this horrible phone call and now he is flipping things so that his ego is in tact as the guy-who-dumped-the -chick? I was shocked and tongue tied.
Quickly, I processed what had just happened and decided I didn't care if he was the dumper or dumpee in his mind and was just excited to move on to dating an excellent match.
Me: "Oh, thank you. I'm glad you still think I'm a great girl. I totally understand the situation."
Him: "I'm so glad to hear that. I hope there are no hard feelings. In fact, I'd like to still be friends. You are great company. Why don't you give me a call in a couple of weeks if you want to have dinner. You will be okay," he said to calm what he had decided where my shaken nerves.
Me: "That sounds great. Thanks..."
We hung up and I let out a huge laugh as I thought about how odd it was to go from the woman who had assesed the situation and determined that this was a no-go to the victim who seemed to have been left with a percieved broken heart and wounded self esteem. At least I learned that I was right to get out of this situation in search of greener fields. I wish him well and I still think I'm a great girl- no matter what.
After I posted some pictures and crafted a brief and witty biography of who I am and what I was looking for I began to get responses and inquiries. It was fun- emailing, phone conversations and real life dates with real life men of an assorted ilk. Some were socially awkward and wanted second dates while others were what I thought were genuine starts to something-- anything-- resulting in absolutely nothing. It was the first time that I ever took the time to aggressively date and I enjoyed it all. Even the bad dates were chalked up to a new story to share or write about.
I knew I was a catch and had some fun times to offer these gents. I went out on a number of what would turn out to be the first and last date. I started to get a little paranoid because I was still at the stage where dating seemed much more personal than it really is. In reality, dating is finding what works for you and has little to nothing to do with the genuine qualities of the person you are sincerely not interested in. Someone out there will want to date the germ-a-phobe virgin I went to the movies with. And I am quite sure that the handsome investment banker who would return my calls but wouldn't go out with me again will eventually find a woman that will break down his walls. It is a guarantee that the lanky Brazilian-German man who looked like snoopy with short locks growing from his head will eventually meet the woman who is cool with smoking weed outside a movie theater on a first date and who wants to kiss his clammy-fish textured lips for more than a peck. And the universe only knows how these and many other men might describe me. I have no desire to know their opinions nor does it keep me up at night conjuring up possible reasons why I couldn't get that second date even with the men that seemed to click with me. I got to a point in the dating adventures where I assumed a date would be a generally good time and result in not much more.
Eventually I found a taker for a second, third and a few dates beyond. After an incredibly awkward first date we actually clicked and ultimately simultaneously decided that we weren't going to be a match even after some fun times and little bit of passion. It was an easy end to a romantic false start. I continued to communicate with and date as frequently as possible men from both the online world and those I would occasionally meet in the 'real life' forums.
These exploits and escapades led me into the arms of a dating partner for a couple of months. He was a bit older and had a good sense of humor. Things started with some steam- a couple of dates and some make out sessions. We had a good time talking on the phone and going out once or twice a week- dinner, movies, brunch. It was fun but nothing spectacular. Looking back, I know I should have just cut off the nice guy who was sweet but boring after only a couple of weeks. But I was lonely and he was someone to pass some time with. I contemplated moving on after he explained for the third time that he was excited that because of the current home finance crisis and the money he had saved away he could look at buying a home in the next few months. I mean, good for you, but do I have to hear about it three times? But I didn't end it. I continued to date other men and assumed he was dating other women. We never got to a serious point after two months of very casual interactions but it was nice to know I had someone thinking about me.
One of these dates with other men led to major sparks immediately. After my second date with the man who would become my boyfriend and love of my life I knew that this new connection trumped anything I currently had brewing and took me off the market for what looks like for good. After my third date with the new gent I knew I had to end things with Mr. Snooze. I knew that any date or phone conversation with him would only include my mind wandering to the new stirring feelings for the man I met when I finally thought I would never meet anyone. I became very hard to get a hold of for a few days as I recovered from sleep deprivation brought on by my dates and took some time to think. In the mean time he left me several voice mails and text messages:
Text: "Sorry to bug! But I want to ask you about something this weekend."
Voice mail: "Hey, It's me. What are you up to this weekend? Give me a call. I got two tickets to Coachella and a friend is letting us stay there. Do you want to go?"
Text: "Give me a call! Want to talk about this weekend!"
This was so odd as we had never talked about spending a weekend together and hadn't even been very physical since the second week or so. I must admit that if I wasn't already experiencing thrilling passion, I might have been tempted to join the guy on this little adventure. As it stood, I had become clear after my first day with my current boyfriend that I was removing myself from the dating world at least to see what would happen next. I made up an excuse that I had to work that weekend and it was not going to be possible to change anything. In reality, I spent an amazing weekend with my new man exploring the city not giving even a moments thought to what could have been a so-so time at a music festival with a so-so guy.
After that weekend I knew that I had to take care of business as soon as possible. In what would be one of my most awkward phone conversations, I ended our relationship. But it was no normal breakup.
Me: "Hey... I hope you had fun at the festival. So, I think that you are a really nice and I've had a good time getting to know you the past few weeks but I think that this has gone as far as it's going to go..." I mumbled and stumbled the whole way through.
Him: "Oh, uh, I see... Well, how long have you been feeling this way?"
Me (internal thought): "Um, since you were boring me to near tears..."
Me (external conversation): "Just over the last week or so... That's part of the reason I was hard to get ahold of the last week or so."
Him: "I understand. Yeah. It was kind of hard to figure out our connection. I just want you to know that no matter what, you are a really great girl and I had a lot of fun with you. No matter what. I hope you are okay with this."
WHAT?! You hope I'm okay with this? Are you serious? I called this guy to end things and I'm the one who had to work up to this horrible phone call and now he is flipping things so that his ego is in tact as the guy-who-dumped-the -chick? I was shocked and tongue tied.
Quickly, I processed what had just happened and decided I didn't care if he was the dumper or dumpee in his mind and was just excited to move on to dating an excellent match.
Me: "Oh, thank you. I'm glad you still think I'm a great girl. I totally understand the situation."
Him: "I'm so glad to hear that. I hope there are no hard feelings. In fact, I'd like to still be friends. You are great company. Why don't you give me a call in a couple of weeks if you want to have dinner. You will be okay," he said to calm what he had decided where my shaken nerves.
Me: "That sounds great. Thanks..."
We hung up and I let out a huge laugh as I thought about how odd it was to go from the woman who had assesed the situation and determined that this was a no-go to the victim who seemed to have been left with a percieved broken heart and wounded self esteem. At least I learned that I was right to get out of this situation in search of greener fields. I wish him well and I still think I'm a great girl- no matter what.
Tuesday, September 16
Apparently, we ruin neighborhoods...
I am in an interracial relationship. Now, to be fair, pretty much any relationship I am in will be a guarantee mixed one given that I am a proud combo-kid. However, my boyfriend and I are clearly of different races just by looking at us. Having grown up with parents of different ethnic backgrounds and having dated men of different racial backgrounds, I am accustomed to side long glances or even out right piercing glares from the public. No matter the year, small town, big city or state, there remain individuals who think you 'shouldn't mix' or 'date outside your race.'
Once, while in a semi-large city (by Eastern Washington standards, that is) my mother endured a ferociously scary stare-down from a skin head who was clearly associated with the local white supremacy groups in the area. My brother noticed and went to stand next to her just to ensure her safety. This is the life of being a person of color... especially if you are married to someone of a different background.
Recently, my boyfriend and I learned about a sector of the population that has clearly defined their racial politics and have united despite any other differences they might have: the homeless in West Hollywood and the surrounding areas. Just a few short weeks ago, my boyfriend and I were strolling arm in arm down Santa Monica after a delicious sushi dinner. We were laughing about something or other and walked towards a white man who was clearly without home and in possible need of medication. As we passed we heard the low voiced mumblings of this individual: grumble, grumble, nigger, grumble grumble, shouldn't be with grumble pure white woman grumble.
After the initial shock passed, we paused and assessed the situation: Did that man just get racial on us? As my gracious boyfriend said, "He gets a one time pass because he's crazy. Otherwise, I would punch him in the mouth." It was weird and awkward to be pulled into this man's inner thoughts. It was clear we entered into a realm of his consciousness that he never would have shared on his own were it not for a deteriorated state of mind. And what would he have done if he knew that I am nowhere near being a 'pure White woman' in any regard?
A mere week or so later after a hearty Thai lunch that was to be followed by a beautiful walk and a much needed nap we passed a man who appeared to live in the corner bus stop. He stared and his gaze followed us as we crossed the street toward him and rounded the corner. In a boisterous voice he informed my boyfriend that, "You better not take that White woman down south with you!" Now, to be fair, it is quite possible that this was just a blanket warning that he provides and not a reflection of his personal opinion. At any rate, I turned and yelled, "I'M MEXICAN." I know this does nothing to impact his perception or words of warning. Nevertheless, I wanted to get things squared away with this stranger.
These events make me wonder how many other people would love to yell at the top of lungs the distaste for our relationship with only a touch of sanity keeping them in line. And I wonder even more if I actually wouldn't prefer to hear the thoughts of the supposedly sane just to be clear about where people are coming from. I mean at least I know what the crazy homeless are thinking and I am not so naive as to believe they are the only ones. My boyfriend and I both know that there are members of our own families that don't like the idea of 'mixing'. And while none of this ultimately bears any weight in our lives, it is an interesting experience especially when so many people want to declare that racism is dead and that no one looks at race, really.
We've decided that regardless of the pressure from the crazy homeless population, we will stay together and endure the fear (and possible ridiculous excitement) of being verbally assaulted over such an absurd matter.
Once, while in a semi-large city (by Eastern Washington standards, that is) my mother endured a ferociously scary stare-down from a skin head who was clearly associated with the local white supremacy groups in the area. My brother noticed and went to stand next to her just to ensure her safety. This is the life of being a person of color... especially if you are married to someone of a different background.
Recently, my boyfriend and I learned about a sector of the population that has clearly defined their racial politics and have united despite any other differences they might have: the homeless in West Hollywood and the surrounding areas. Just a few short weeks ago, my boyfriend and I were strolling arm in arm down Santa Monica after a delicious sushi dinner. We were laughing about something or other and walked towards a white man who was clearly without home and in possible need of medication. As we passed we heard the low voiced mumblings of this individual: grumble, grumble, nigger, grumble grumble, shouldn't be with grumble pure white woman grumble.
After the initial shock passed, we paused and assessed the situation: Did that man just get racial on us? As my gracious boyfriend said, "He gets a one time pass because he's crazy. Otherwise, I would punch him in the mouth." It was weird and awkward to be pulled into this man's inner thoughts. It was clear we entered into a realm of his consciousness that he never would have shared on his own were it not for a deteriorated state of mind. And what would he have done if he knew that I am nowhere near being a 'pure White woman' in any regard?
A mere week or so later after a hearty Thai lunch that was to be followed by a beautiful walk and a much needed nap we passed a man who appeared to live in the corner bus stop. He stared and his gaze followed us as we crossed the street toward him and rounded the corner. In a boisterous voice he informed my boyfriend that, "You better not take that White woman down south with you!" Now, to be fair, it is quite possible that this was just a blanket warning that he provides and not a reflection of his personal opinion. At any rate, I turned and yelled, "I'M MEXICAN." I know this does nothing to impact his perception or words of warning. Nevertheless, I wanted to get things squared away with this stranger.
These events make me wonder how many other people would love to yell at the top of lungs the distaste for our relationship with only a touch of sanity keeping them in line. And I wonder even more if I actually wouldn't prefer to hear the thoughts of the supposedly sane just to be clear about where people are coming from. I mean at least I know what the crazy homeless are thinking and I am not so naive as to believe they are the only ones. My boyfriend and I both know that there are members of our own families that don't like the idea of 'mixing'. And while none of this ultimately bears any weight in our lives, it is an interesting experience especially when so many people want to declare that racism is dead and that no one looks at race, really.
We've decided that regardless of the pressure from the crazy homeless population, we will stay together and endure the fear (and possible ridiculous excitement) of being verbally assaulted over such an absurd matter.
Friday, August 1
a woman
so i have this mom who likes girls. now, she's never admitted to liking girls but she did once pursue my brother's semi-ex girlfriend who was obsessed with him and was a psychotic compulsive liar. it was the "jerry springer" time in my life that hasn't quite petered out yet....
so, i have this mom who likes girls. it came as no surprise to well, anyone. i think it was this thing we all had thought. sadly, she kind of fits some of those stereotypes that us conscious people often want to think aren't real. but, i mean, they can be.
alma was a tomboy from jump. sports, sweat and all things un-girly ruled her world. in college she hoped to be a p.e. teacher. she played softball for the better portion of my childhood. makeup was this foreign concept except for some occasional lipstick. clothes or that fashion stuff held her attention just long enough to be rejected.
but the biggest signal was this weird obsessive relationship with her college roommate who also gives off the 'i like girls' vibe even while meandering through various relationships and marriages to the opposite sex. it was this weird thing since back in the day, according to my pops. but they lost touch then reconnected when i was in jr. high and then began the push and pull of their 'i love you. i hate you. i need you.' relationship that continues to this day. everyone down to my relatives who live in a rural town that i think has banished gay people suspect that there has always been more to this particular relationship than an innocuous friendship.
alma's sexuality is this weird thing that only exists in a parallel universe as far as i'm concerned. it isn't because it is a thing i don't want to deal with or because it makes me uncomfortable. my girl-liking-mom is the one who has relegated this vital part of anyone's life to the land of the untouchable. she has never confirmed that she is gay. she has never confirmed that she had a thing for the obsessed semi-ex of my brother. she had never confirmed that her relationship with the college roomie has ever reached beyond the platonic. but she lets all these facts simmer. it's like she thinks we don't notice. must be difficult to be a middle aged woman attempting to come to terms with her sexuality. maybe this is why she acts out in such inappropriate ways with inappropriate people.
so i have this mom who likes girls and i think she wanted to have a daughter that liked girls so that she could live vicariously through her. when i was a young, impressionable teen she took me to this movie about lesbians. i think my dad was opposed. not because of the theme but because it was pretty sexual and he wasn't clear on the purpose or intent of taking his daughter to such a flick. at any rate, we went. it was this awkward thing to say the least. and she and the college roomie spent a good deal of time instilling the 'fact' that men are these mean controlling people. all this while my mom was still married to my dad and the roomie was dating/ fucking any dude that would give her a second glance. and my girl-liking-mom would put all this pressure on me to not have sex with my high school boyfriend. it wasn't like my parents were conservative or that we were religious. i genuinely think it was a bit of a psychological tactic to keep me away from boys in case i liked sex with men. after all, how could she live her desires to be gay through me if it turned out i wasn't gay? alma would make my suiters feel uncomfortable if they were over for dinner but welcomed with open arms my brother's girlfriends. maybe she had crushes on these young lasses too. hard to say.
so i have this mom who likes girls and is too afraid to admit it to anyone or, in my opinion, herself even. instead she cowers in fear of living life for herself and has become a rather bitter old woman before reaching the age of old. it serves as a brilliant reminder to take risks and give a damn about what anyone thinks. but still, i find my self feeling rather sad and melancholy on behalf of my girl-liking-mom who is so out of touch with herself that she doesn't even know herself. alma exists in fear and pursues the unattainable. it is one of those realizations we have that demonstrates that our parents are, after all, just people too complete with bad behavior and poor decision making process. but my greatest hope for alma is that she connect with herself and grow to be a woman worth knowing, a woman worth loving, a woman in her own right.
so, i have this mom who likes girls. it came as no surprise to well, anyone. i think it was this thing we all had thought. sadly, she kind of fits some of those stereotypes that us conscious people often want to think aren't real. but, i mean, they can be.
alma was a tomboy from jump. sports, sweat and all things un-girly ruled her world. in college she hoped to be a p.e. teacher. she played softball for the better portion of my childhood. makeup was this foreign concept except for some occasional lipstick. clothes or that fashion stuff held her attention just long enough to be rejected.
but the biggest signal was this weird obsessive relationship with her college roommate who also gives off the 'i like girls' vibe even while meandering through various relationships and marriages to the opposite sex. it was this weird thing since back in the day, according to my pops. but they lost touch then reconnected when i was in jr. high and then began the push and pull of their 'i love you. i hate you. i need you.' relationship that continues to this day. everyone down to my relatives who live in a rural town that i think has banished gay people suspect that there has always been more to this particular relationship than an innocuous friendship.
alma's sexuality is this weird thing that only exists in a parallel universe as far as i'm concerned. it isn't because it is a thing i don't want to deal with or because it makes me uncomfortable. my girl-liking-mom is the one who has relegated this vital part of anyone's life to the land of the untouchable. she has never confirmed that she is gay. she has never confirmed that she had a thing for the obsessed semi-ex of my brother. she had never confirmed that her relationship with the college roomie has ever reached beyond the platonic. but she lets all these facts simmer. it's like she thinks we don't notice. must be difficult to be a middle aged woman attempting to come to terms with her sexuality. maybe this is why she acts out in such inappropriate ways with inappropriate people.
so i have this mom who likes girls and i think she wanted to have a daughter that liked girls so that she could live vicariously through her. when i was a young, impressionable teen she took me to this movie about lesbians. i think my dad was opposed. not because of the theme but because it was pretty sexual and he wasn't clear on the purpose or intent of taking his daughter to such a flick. at any rate, we went. it was this awkward thing to say the least. and she and the college roomie spent a good deal of time instilling the 'fact' that men are these mean controlling people. all this while my mom was still married to my dad and the roomie was dating/ fucking any dude that would give her a second glance. and my girl-liking-mom would put all this pressure on me to not have sex with my high school boyfriend. it wasn't like my parents were conservative or that we were religious. i genuinely think it was a bit of a psychological tactic to keep me away from boys in case i liked sex with men. after all, how could she live her desires to be gay through me if it turned out i wasn't gay? alma would make my suiters feel uncomfortable if they were over for dinner but welcomed with open arms my brother's girlfriends. maybe she had crushes on these young lasses too. hard to say.
so i have this mom who likes girls and is too afraid to admit it to anyone or, in my opinion, herself even. instead she cowers in fear of living life for herself and has become a rather bitter old woman before reaching the age of old. it serves as a brilliant reminder to take risks and give a damn about what anyone thinks. but still, i find my self feeling rather sad and melancholy on behalf of my girl-liking-mom who is so out of touch with herself that she doesn't even know herself. alma exists in fear and pursues the unattainable. it is one of those realizations we have that demonstrates that our parents are, after all, just people too complete with bad behavior and poor decision making process. but my greatest hope for alma is that she connect with herself and grow to be a woman worth knowing, a woman worth loving, a woman in her own right.
love actually
we met, we fell in like, we fell in love. and now every morning i wake up with a smile on my face and butterflies in my stomach wrapped in his arms. we move steadily forward at a quick and furious pace all the time watching our steps and investigating more so as not to end up in the painful ditch of dashed hopes pinned upon each other.
each day i learn a bit more about this man that i have loved from too early on. this grounded love has come to serve as a marker for every relationship i have ever had and joyfully, it is the pinnacle of happiness in my life. time with him demonstrates regularly the absence of love in what should have been the definition with others.
each day i learn a bit more about this man that i have loved from too early on. this grounded love has come to serve as a marker for every relationship i have ever had and joyfully, it is the pinnacle of happiness in my life. time with him demonstrates regularly the absence of love in what should have been the definition with others.
ponderings
i think sometimes i overlook problems in order to maintain happiness. at times it is because i can be so naive and just not realize that there is tension or something amiss. other times it is because i really am just a little kid at heart and i don't always know how to deal with an issue. i'm not afraid of conflict but over the years i have become paranoid that i will be construed as 'emotional' or 'irrational'. this paranoia stems from a horrendous period where i doubted my instincts and became an emotional wreck stuck in a tumultuous relationship and severing connections with many friends and family members. it is also rooted in a childhood where everything was wrong but i was taught that this was the norm and perfectly happy and healthy. what else can you do in that situation but grin and bear it and just move on in life? this has made me a very resilient woman but also one that can overlook potential catastrophic issues with ease.
i seek the balance between addressing the bad and accepting the good. not always an easy act when you've been screwed over time and again and you get a little nervous that the next 'fuck me' moment is around the bend. frankly, life itself is the best it has been for me-- ever. and there are a lot of sucky things going on. but what makes it the best is that i feel my most present and aware of all that sucks and can keep myself centered and calm even in the midst of hating my job, realizing that i truly have no family structure to speak of that i haven't created on my own, and wandering a bit aimlessly at times. but i have these amazing friends who listen and support. and i have this amazing man that makes me feel more comfortable and vibrant than i think i realized was possible.
so i continue to learn to trust my instinct, ask the questions that are in my heart, and not to follow as blindly and naively as i have done, perhaps, in the past. growing up is hard and living life is a bit scary if you are doing it right. i'm scared, so i must be fully living at least a little.
i seek the balance between addressing the bad and accepting the good. not always an easy act when you've been screwed over time and again and you get a little nervous that the next 'fuck me' moment is around the bend. frankly, life itself is the best it has been for me-- ever. and there are a lot of sucky things going on. but what makes it the best is that i feel my most present and aware of all that sucks and can keep myself centered and calm even in the midst of hating my job, realizing that i truly have no family structure to speak of that i haven't created on my own, and wandering a bit aimlessly at times. but i have these amazing friends who listen and support. and i have this amazing man that makes me feel more comfortable and vibrant than i think i realized was possible.
so i continue to learn to trust my instinct, ask the questions that are in my heart, and not to follow as blindly and naively as i have done, perhaps, in the past. growing up is hard and living life is a bit scary if you are doing it right. i'm scared, so i must be fully living at least a little.
Monday, July 21
Random Spottings, II
Los Angeles has a population of nearly ten million inhabitants sprawling across more than four thousand square miles. We mainly seem to drive which keeps us isolated in our pods, tucked away safely from any unwanted human interaction besides being cut off by the jerk in front of us or panhandlers at stop lights. Angelinos have perfected the art of seclusion. It is rare to see a familiar face in the grocery store aisles or to run into a friend or acquaintance by chance rather than by plan. We live in a big city and we like it like that.
Well, welcome to my world of the regular run ins in random locals with those that I never thought I would see again and others for whom I had prayed this would be the case. If you will, allow me to provide a few examples to demonstrate the randomness of my life
• Last fall after being dumped via a MySpace email by a guy I was dating for about two months because a) his work was getting really busy and he wouldn’t have time to hang out anymore and b) he really liked me and he didn’t want to have feelings like that for a girl right now, we had what turned out to be an awkward run in. On Thanksgiving weekend I decided to head over to my local museum to view an exhibit of phenomenal art. I showed up prepared to battle a bit of crowdedness and began to meander through the displays. About halfway through, I see from the corner of my eye the dude who dumped me via a MySpace email. (And yes, this is how he must be referenced. It was that lame). I was kind of shocked simply because it was so odd to be at the exact spot at the same time. My eyes followed him around the sculpture where I saw him notice me, put his head down and walk through to the next section. Because I like to do things ‘for the story’, I decided to follow him daintily through the art and we eventually made accidental eye contact. We approached each other, met half way and shared the most uncomfortable mumbled conversation coupled with a half-hearted back pat hug. We left and I later sent him a text that read “Take care of yourself” because he looked like he had been living in the basement as a vampire while consuming all the potato chips he could in a single sitting. I was looking cute, so that was a perfect post break up spotting.
• I once ran into a woman who was the mom of a boy who had a crush on me in the 3rd grade. He obviously had a crush on me because he used to tease me until I cried and kicked me in my stomach. She didn’t remember me but I told her lots of weird details about her sons and I even remembered her vanity license plate. I then had to persuade her that I was not, in fact, a stalker of some sort. We were both tickled to be taken back in time by about 20 years and she caught me up on the lives of her three sons even though I had only known one of them.
• On my way to a clown job, I stopped at a CVS in Studio City. I pulled out of the parking spot, stopped at the red light and watched in the cross walk as a man I had dated a few months before walked with his mother. He lived nowhere near Studio City (nor do I) and we actually live in neighboring hoods yet I have never ran into him at a coffee shop or a restaurant. I kind of hoped he would notice me because when we had broken up I was in the process of dumping him when he attempted to flip the script and dump me by stating, ‘No matter what, I want you to know you are a really great girl!’ What he didn’t know was that I was dumping him because I had met the most spectacular man of my life and would go on to fall head over heels in love with this new gentleman while I had slowly suffered a painfully dull 2 month relationship with him.
• At various around town activities I have seen my college Spanish teacher, a girl from college, the dude who dumped me via MySpace email AGAIN, some other guy who kept sending me emails after a first date stating that he would call me as soon as work settled down, old friends from Juior High School whom I haven’t seen in more than 15 years.
I somehow manage to make Los Angeles into a small town, and I like it...
Well, welcome to my world of the regular run ins in random locals with those that I never thought I would see again and others for whom I had prayed this would be the case. If you will, allow me to provide a few examples to demonstrate the randomness of my life
• Last fall after being dumped via a MySpace email by a guy I was dating for about two months because a) his work was getting really busy and he wouldn’t have time to hang out anymore and b) he really liked me and he didn’t want to have feelings like that for a girl right now, we had what turned out to be an awkward run in. On Thanksgiving weekend I decided to head over to my local museum to view an exhibit of phenomenal art. I showed up prepared to battle a bit of crowdedness and began to meander through the displays. About halfway through, I see from the corner of my eye the dude who dumped me via a MySpace email. (And yes, this is how he must be referenced. It was that lame). I was kind of shocked simply because it was so odd to be at the exact spot at the same time. My eyes followed him around the sculpture where I saw him notice me, put his head down and walk through to the next section. Because I like to do things ‘for the story’, I decided to follow him daintily through the art and we eventually made accidental eye contact. We approached each other, met half way and shared the most uncomfortable mumbled conversation coupled with a half-hearted back pat hug. We left and I later sent him a text that read “Take care of yourself” because he looked like he had been living in the basement as a vampire while consuming all the potato chips he could in a single sitting. I was looking cute, so that was a perfect post break up spotting.
• I once ran into a woman who was the mom of a boy who had a crush on me in the 3rd grade. He obviously had a crush on me because he used to tease me until I cried and kicked me in my stomach. She didn’t remember me but I told her lots of weird details about her sons and I even remembered her vanity license plate. I then had to persuade her that I was not, in fact, a stalker of some sort. We were both tickled to be taken back in time by about 20 years and she caught me up on the lives of her three sons even though I had only known one of them.
• On my way to a clown job, I stopped at a CVS in Studio City. I pulled out of the parking spot, stopped at the red light and watched in the cross walk as a man I had dated a few months before walked with his mother. He lived nowhere near Studio City (nor do I) and we actually live in neighboring hoods yet I have never ran into him at a coffee shop or a restaurant. I kind of hoped he would notice me because when we had broken up I was in the process of dumping him when he attempted to flip the script and dump me by stating, ‘No matter what, I want you to know you are a really great girl!’ What he didn’t know was that I was dumping him because I had met the most spectacular man of my life and would go on to fall head over heels in love with this new gentleman while I had slowly suffered a painfully dull 2 month relationship with him.
• At various around town activities I have seen my college Spanish teacher, a girl from college, the dude who dumped me via MySpace email AGAIN, some other guy who kept sending me emails after a first date stating that he would call me as soon as work settled down, old friends from Juior High School whom I haven’t seen in more than 15 years.
I somehow manage to make Los Angeles into a small town, and I like it...
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