It takes not will power but painful experience to make us wise

Interesting article on being in love.

Also check out this one from the NY Times on why people have sex.

Happy reading.

5k tonight, wish me luck.

Startling isn't it?

I've been having a lot of nightmares lately. Not sure if it's due to what I eat before bed or just another way for my brain to work itself out. Last night I had nightmares almost the whole time, and then was shocked awake before my alarm by a huge clap of thunder. Needless to say, I've been restless and uneasy all morning since. It's like I keep expecting something bad to happen because of something I've done, and it's even made me second guess myself, double check my emails, make lists, dot I's and cross T's. A lot of fruitless worrying for a trick of my subconscious and mother nature.

Truth be told, I think I've been feeling like this since Thursday. After work I went out for drinks with that guy from the Internet I previously posted about. We clicked mentally right away, had a ton of laughs, and I could tell he's truly a great guy who will make a wonderful boyfriend. I should be rejoicing at this point....but I'm not, because my reservations about him proved true. I might be silly/snobby/stupid, but I can't help the way I feel.

Here are my issues: 1) he's not a jeans and a tshirt type guy, he always wears khakis and a collared shirt - I like to throw on pjs as soon as I get home from work and laze about in a tshirt; 2) he's just about to turn 31, that's a significant 6 year difference, and I felt like we were coming at life from two different vantage points - I like to go out, he wants to stay in, among other things; 3) he's not all that into exercise and as a consequence is about 20lbs overweight - seems trivial, but for those who know me, you know that I am kind of nuts about staying fit/skinny and I love to be active and want someone who can keep up/wants to challenge me/climb a mountain with me; 4) I think he's really into what's safe, scheduled, routine - I've already dreamed up schemes about travelling to Italy (in the same post as mentioned above), moving to who knows where, and changing my career completely.

Here's the heart breaker, as we were cordially saying goodnight (no kisses, don't worry), he told me (sincerely and somewhat surprised) that our date had been the best first date he'd ever had. Because I had such fun with him, I agreed to see him again this Saturday, plus we're going to the Arboretum, which I really wanted to check out. All the same, the more I think about it, the less I want to go and make him feel like crap.

My head is yelling at me: He's a truly great guy, why can't I get over myself and get excited about this?

The simple answer? Because there aren't any butterflies/swooning/giggles/blushing/singing. I know those only last for a little bit, but that's how I know someone is right for me (even if later they turn out to be wrong), my breath gets stolen and I can't stop smiling. Am I willing to be alone, maybe permanently, if I don't feel that way again? I don't know, but I think so, and that's startling.

Committed part 2, aka the hootenanny

My roommate and I share a porch with four very silly college age guys, ranging in ages from 19-24. The 24 year old (hereafter called "the neighbor"...genius I know) has taken a special interest in me lately, mostly because I think he's realizing 7 years into his bachelor's degree that he can't be a kid forever and has no one else to turn to that's more mature than his roommates. Playing the voice of wisdom to someone who isn't really ready but is willing is a bit challenging to say the least.

He's a pretty good looking guy and has this crazy laugh that if our windows are open, you can hear through our whole apartment. However, we might as well be on different planets in terms of wants and needs in relationships. Quite happily, we (and by we, I mean me, and he eventually agreed) decided that rather than a messy dating experiement, we'd just hang out as friends and go on awesome dates whenever the mood and the money was right.

Our first date night was this past Friday, and I explored another neighborhood of Boston for the first time, Jamaica Plain. The restaurant Ten Tables is an intimate little gourmet bistro, tucked in and away from the bar scene. I haven't had such good food and fun flirty conversation/a really good date in a long time, although at various points in the evening, the neighbor kept remarking how much he'd like to hook up even right there on the edge of the table (needless to say, there was a lot of blushing and shaking of the head on my part).

After dinner, we went to a hootenanny (you read it correctly, a hootenanny). This, for those of you who don't know, is a gathering house party style, where local musicians/hippies can go to play in front of their peers and promote positivity, peace, and understanding. We walk into this giant mansion (a 9 bedroom house complete with several living rooms, bathrooms, etc...) that was completely silent. As we make our way back to one of the larger living rooms, we come upon 40-50 hippies perched on the floor looking adoringly at their leader ranting about fascism, music, and ruining the ambiance of the hoot. The smell....oh the smell...unwashed patchouli stink, cigarettes, weed, and hidden trust funds.

My mouth dropped open. I didn't even know these kind of gatherings existed outside of college. I felt stuck in a time warp and intensely uncomfortable given that I had to perch on the floor in a polka dot dress and stiletto heels. After some trippy group singing and guitar playing (during which my cellphone range, yep, I was that kid), the neighbor and I escaped and finally got home. It was a hoot alright.

Saturday afternoon I went for a long run, and then in the evening was a very good friend's birthday. She rented out a portion of a bar in Cambridge and invited everyone she knows, including people from work (she used to work with me) and the ex. I was happy that my roommate came, she kept me from feeling sorry for myself or anything stupid like that. We drank a lot, and I mean A LOT. Everyone I talked to on Monday all agreed there were some hangovers being nursed on Sunday. Good times. The only issues I had were these: my skirt was short and flimsy and kept blowing up Marilyn Monroe style every time there was a breeze, and I got drunk enough to make a "joking" pass at the ex (in my defense, he looked really good, and I basically just wanted to take him home with me, use him, and then move on). Not proud of it, but that's the truth. Bad habits and all that...

We didn't get home until 4am, but thanks to some essential late night Chinese food, I wasn't too hung over in the morning. I wasn't very useful Sunday, but worked on my tan, watched two movies (Requiem for a Dream - will blow your mind; and Lucky Number Slevin - really more violent and serious than I anticipated), and generally lazed about. Rough life :)

It was a heck of a weekend, and I'm still processing through everything I learned. Right now, I'm dealing with some anxiety around work, and have a sneaking suspicion that karma is about to kick me hard in the ass, but more on that later. Hope all is well with you, whereever you may be. As always, any suggestions/words of wisdom/rants are welcome. Ciao for now.

Committed part 1

This weekend was a bit of a whirlwind, but before I describe it (part 2 coming soon), I'd like to share this observation: Forgiveness is a quality that in excess, does more harm than good. Here's why I came to this conclusion: Once I have a friend it takes a hell of a lot of wrongs for me to cut them out of my life. I'm not saying I'm a doormat, because I have no problem with confrontation and usually speak my mind, but even after a fight, I'm still more likely to just shake it off and embrace them again. This can be great, everyone has friends that really biffed but made life changes and came around again, but there are also those friends who just bring you down, make you feel like crap, and encourage huge unnecessary sacrifices.

Lately, I've been forgiving some people who maybe doesn't deserve that kind of devotion. It's so hard for me to just cut them out of my life and my heart. A good friend and I were talking about this last week and she helped me realize why sometimes we stay committed. If we stop liking someone, or stop trying with someone, it means that the person was a poor judgement call on our part, that we didn't have the foresight enough to see that this person would be bad medicine. It calls into question our own ability to analyze human character, and even if this is not in the front of your mind when thinking about a lousy friend, it still lingers somewhere in your subconscious calculation of self-worth. I don't want to give up on people and think that they are truly capable of only crapiness, because I don't want to give up on myself. I believe I can always be a better person, do the right thing most of the time, so why can't they? And if they can't, how much of me is like them?

Forgiveness has the power to heal the deepest wounds, to resolve conflict, and save lives. It has the power to mend marriages, bond families, and relieve a burden. But when forgiveness, like so many other things in excess, begins to kick you in the butt, maybe it's time to forgive yourself for letting go, for failing at that friendship through no fault of your own. Forgive yourself for loving yourself more than that. Just a thought.

Black holes and revelations

I had a wish bone in a chicken the other day and to amuse myself and my roommate, I challenged her to break it with me. Needless to say, it will be her wish to come true this time. That got me thinking about what I had wished for, whether this was realistic or even deserved. Not surprisingly, it had to do with my love life, or lack thereof. I always get a sense that I still have a lot to learn about myself and the world before kismet brings me a keeper.

In terms of revelations, here's some of what I've learned in the past couple of weeks:
- I actually understand why Britney Spears shaved her head and made of spectacle of herself, sometimes you just hate everything you've become so much that you want to destroy it and make yourself alien all over again to rebuild. I'm not saying I respect her particularly, but I at least understand.

- I am not a runner yet. I just have the "stylish" gear, and that's only thanks to my brother's girlfriend. If I want to work at it, I can become a real runner, and although the amount of work it will take seems overwhelming, the reward will be amazing. I signed up for my first 5k at the end of this month.

- The ex is acting like a dick to me lately. Maybe he's working out some of his stuff too, but it's important that his problems remain his, not mine. I don't need to care anymore, so I won't. In order to stop myself from thinking about him or about myself negatively (a black hole mindset), I've devised a system. I simply think about Italy, which leads me to my next point...

- I think part of my destiny lies in Italy and maybe Greece. I'd like to go on a backpacking soul searching adventure, hopefully before the end of the year if I can afford it. There is a part of my past there, something hidden, something secret. Ever get that sense from a place? I'm not opposed to going with a companion, so if you're up for it, let me know.

- For every moment that you are proud, you will be humbled ten fold.

Last thoughts: There are other things I wanted to put down, but they've escaped me already. If I'm reminded, I'll write them in.

My boss' last day was this past Friday, so now I'm officially being managed remotely. I'll let you know how that all shakes out. Had an amazing day on Thursday after an important presentation in front of the VIPs of my company. It went really well and I was congratulated and complimented a lot. It makes hard work a lot easier to stomach when it's noticed every once and a while.

Online dating isn't going that hot. I'm emailing this one dude who I can already tell isn't a great match for me...but then again, maybe I'm being too judgmental and just running scared? Maybe I'm looking a good thing in the face and sneezing? Or maybe I'm right and this dude isn't a good one. I'm really tired of dysfunctional relationships.

My parents will be here in a month, then it's a roommate reunion trip in NY. My eyes are on the prize.

35 hour peace out

I did something a bit radical to quell to storm that's been raging in my head these days. I went on a 35 hour fast. Well I didn't really go anywhere per say, but I abstained from eating or consuming anything but several bottles of water and two glasses of orange juice for 35 hours. Why would I do such a thing? You can read about the benefits here.

For me, it was also a way to exert control over my situation and cleanse myself of all the negatives that I have been conjuring lately. It was also a great test of will power. I wanted to do it for three full days originally, but since I actually have to be active while I'm at work and whatnot, I decided to keep it to a day and a half. In my crazier moments it might be something I do every Monday, but more realistically it'd be a good exercise once every month, depending on how I'm feeling.

I have to admit that ever since my happy bubble popped, I've been struggling a bit to get it back. This leads to not pleasant stuff like feeling stupid, jealous, angry, sad, and hating myself for the way I act. I just get so frustrated, and I always feel like I should be a better, kinder, more generous and conscientious person. This disgust is particularly felt after a night of drinking. I say the stupidest damn stuff for no apparent reason, whether it's catty and mean, or flaky and stupid, or exposing a secret about myself that I'd rather no one know (stupid truth juice). It's all stuff that isn't who I really am. All of this also leads to me feeling fat, unattractive, and all of those loathsome girly self-doubt traits that make everyone moan. I've lost myself a bit lately.

And frankly, I've had enough. Enough of feeling that way. I've cleaned my brain and my body out, and it's time for a new leaf to be turned, a new me to emerge and embrace the second half of my twenties, a new adventure to be started....sounds like the perfect time for a tattoo as well ;)

It's seems so easy to do when you type it out like that, doesn't it? Wish me luck.

I dream of Clooney

Working through some stuff, will post about it when I have my head around it. In the meantime, enjoy the picture of the man I realized was the perfect representation of the one I'm looking for, George Clooney. Tall, dark, handsome, socially conscious, ambitious, passionate, loves to travel, loves to laugh, sexy, generous, and kind. *sigh*

Chaos

This last week has been a bit nuts for me, and it really came to a head Thursday night as I was waiting in the T-station to take the train back home. Standing there in shorts, a t-shirt, and flip-flops, having just fast-walked a 3.5 mile race in 86-90 degree heat, been up for almost 20 hours at that point, and looking like a hot mess, I began to notice a couple to my left.

Well, primarily I noticed the woman because she kept staring at my feet. I looked down myself to see if I was missing a toe or filthy or bleeding or something, and since none of that was the case (they looked cute, thank you very much), I turned back to look at the woman to see what the heck she was staring at. That's when I heard her speak to her husband in a language other than English, and I realized that what she had been staring at is my tattoo. I have a small tattoo on my left ankle of the Greek word for chaos. She and her husband, who I then realized were Greek, were probably dumb-founded as to why I would have such a tattoo. I smiled shyly at them, anticipating a question or something like that, but the couple continued conversing and finally stopped staring.

Part of me was worried they would tell me I had spelled it wrong (although I checked with a scholar who knew Greek and was told it was correct, and I spent many hours on the Internet, making sure I had it spelled right, plus being a word geek, I knew it was correct as well), and part of me also considered why I had gotten the word written permanently on my skin in the first place. Chaos is my favorite word, and I chose to write it in Greek because the word itself was born out of that language. There is a ton of mythology associated with it and the culture that birthed it, and I wanted all of that represented in the tattoo. It's the origin of birth, destruction, rebirth, light, dark, emptiness, and everythingness. In short, to me, the word is about hope, about the possibility of moving on even when everything else had gone to pot.

All of my emotions around this word and this last week came to a head for me as I stepped on the train, which was apropos as it all centered around transition and movement. In my personal life there is new life, there is the end of a relationship, there is the facing of my shortcomings and a desire to overcome them, there is hope. In my professional life there is a new boss, new challenges, new responsibilities, new reporting structures, new faces, new friends, new adventures. Nothing stays the same, not even for a second, and the tighter your grasp, the more the sand slips through. There will always be chaos, it's all about whether you can ride through it and get to the place you need to be.