Beaten Up by my own damned brain

So much going on I just don't know where to start.

It's no secret that I've had conflicted feelings about work. What with CBL trying to burden me with her insecurities and CBM trying to bully me, it's been a bit of a struggle from the beginning. The problem is, I love the company, I love the product and I really believe in the management of the business.

Which made it even more difficult on Wednesday to hear that they are completely restructuring the business and all of the Americas team should consider themselves "at risk." From a business perspective it makes complete sense. From a personal perspective, it sucks right out loud.

There are a few positions posted for the US team. And, if you're talking from a skillset point of view, I'm feeling pretty confident;. But CBM hates me - there's no hiding that. And whether or not he can make an objective decision is in decidedly in question.

Add to all of that stress - do I or don't I have a job? - Good Buddy is in town.

It got off to a rough start. We were supposed to hang last week and I had even taken the next day off "to recover." Of course, he blew me off. Worse, he lied to me about the reason why. He still thinks I'm the crazy, obsessed girl I was 12 years ago.

The good news is that I showed in no small way that not only was I not that girl, but that I was a woman with her wits and brains about her.

Still, it was a tough day. The person who probably knows me the best in the world blew me off. I understood the reason but still thought it was illegit.

Here's the last thing. Finally, last night, a much needed night of soul-bearing, confrontation-having, no-holds-barred discussion was had. It took us until about 3 a.m. But I think we wound up on the same page. We'll never see eye to eye, but at least it's all out in the open.

And now I'm in bed, typing while my Handsome Man lies next to me. All of the various and sundry events of the last week + have me second guessing everything. And while I want to just snuggle down in his arms, I will do so with a pretty conflicted heart.

SHIT.

Beer 1. Me 0.

Found out about a month ago that Good Buddy was coming up north to tie up some loose strings. He mentioned more than a few times that he really wanted us to hang out.

Now, I know that Good Buddy and I have had our ups and downs. My friends mostly hear about the downs, but there certainly have been a fair amount of ups. The biggest, probably, is that Good Buddy lets me air all of my dirty laundry and never, ever, judges me for it. Preaches, yes. Judges, never.

Part of why I crashed and burned so hard when he left was because he took with him an outlet - a much needed outlet - for untangling my so-very tangled world.

So when I heard he would be in town, I started thinking about how great seeing him would be. We could sort out the whole obnoxious boss thing, talk about my concerns about Handsome Man, laugh about politics, be serious about comedy.

That's the problem with expectations. They can get dashed.

Good Buddy bailed on me tonight. And here's the worst part - he lied about it.

He was supposed to come up after the game, which he was watching at a friend's house. Until the ex-wife showed up and they got into it, full force. Since he's invested ~15 years with her, he felt like tying up that loose end was probably more important than shooting the shit with me. Granted. But what he told me was that he got too wasted to drive north.

So I called him, not unsurprisingly hurt and pissed off. And he continued the whole, "I'm too wasted" thing.

So, here's the question I ask any guy ever stumbling across this blog: Do you really think a woman is SO insane that she won't understand why you need to clear the air with someone? Do you really think that telling us that you need to short shit out is worse than telling us beer, weed and football is more important than hanging out?

Really? Seriously?

I just don't get it.

Musings

What is it about late-night insomnia that brings out the sentimental - if not maudlin - thoughts?

Tonight's insomnia, at least, is accounted for. I've been reading The Shining and, finally, was close enough to the end that I just could not put it down. For years I avoided reading Stephen King. Don't know why. I guess I just thought he was a hack terror-writer. WRONG. This story was so well crafted, so well written - the style was absolutely perfect for this novel. Of course, finishing a book like this at 1:30 a.m., well....

But I think, subconsciously, I planned it this way. I remember my mother telling me about how she read the book, downstairs in our family room, sitting sideways on "her" chair (dad had "his" chair, mom had "hers." Hers was a thread-bare, orange and white striped armchair that had little, if any give and was nestled in the right corner of the living room) and was so scared she couldn't even climb the stairs up to the bedroom.

In some strange way, tonight I'm a bit closer to her. I have one more thing - superficial as it may be - in common with her.

More lessons from pop culture

So, I've talked before about how much I love me some Criminal Minds.

Ironically, during my last visit to Amazing Therapist, I mentioned how the new boss, the Good Doctor, would be a prime "unsub" for the profilers to investigate. Complete lack of rationality, compiled with unwaivering commitment to arbitrary rules and an inherent need to prove superiority regardless of conflict or lack thereof. Hmmmm.

Tonight's episode was even more synchronistic.

On tonight's episode, Garcia tries to take on a bit too much. While that is a problem, the bigger concern is that Garcia is surpressing her personality - her je ne sais qua, her joie de vivre, her larger-than-life-amazingly-effective-extremely-competant personality.

The gist of the episode is that Garcia will do her job better - more fully - once she stops trying to be someone she's not and starts being the person she is.

The Good Doctor wants me to "be more professional." No more jokes, no more comics, no more inane, personal banter during business calls.

Unfortunately, those traits are what make me exceptionally good at my job.

I can call in favors when needed. I can ask questions or make requests that other folks can't. I get to know - and respect and like - the people that I work with so that work seems less painful and more joyful. And expressing these aspects of my personality allow me to get joy from my work. And a joyful employee is a motivated employee.

If The Good Doctor could, for just one moment, let his "unsubness" take over, he'd see that he is undermining that which could make the job, the team, the company more effective.

I loved seeing Garcia find herself again.

Know What's Sad?

There's so much going on in my life. Shitty worklife (you just can't try to understand crazy!) and that seeps over into my dream life, which affects my waking life, which affects my love life which ...

It's like that damned 80's commercial:

In some weird way, it's like, "work makes me miserable, which makes me cranky, which upsets my love life, which makes me sleep less, which makes me go into work in a bad mood..."

You get the idea.

So, to escape these stupid thoughts, I turn to silly little mind games.

To whit: I'm watching a movie with Kevin Bacon. Wondering who I can and can't connect him to. And I can't help but think that the kids who are now watching The Situation will never know the real reason the 80's really rocked...

Do the Right Thing

Here's a bit of a morality tale for ya. Of course, I'm not exactly sure what the moral is...

Sunday night, I had tickets for the Louis C.K. tour, Word. Louis is one of my all-time faves and I was very excited. That said, I really could not afford, right now at this very moment, to be spending a high-end evening in Boston.

I wound up for dinner at PF Changs because it's predictable and generally pretty quick. Unless, of course, the place is overcrowded and understaffed.

I found a seat at the bar, ordered dinner right away and then opened my book. Several minutes later, I heard my cellphone ring and I leaned over to see who was calling.

Looking down, I saw a folded pile of bills lying on the floor. I could have easily picked it up, pocketed it and made the night a profitable evening. But I just couldn't.

I picked it up and interrupted the couple next to me. "Excuse me, is this yours?" The man guessed correctly at the amount, so I assumed it had to be his. He thanked me and offered to buy me a drink. "No," I said, "There shouldn't be a reward for doing the right thing."

It felt like the right thing to do/say. Until I heard that very same couple bitching about their wait and how the restaurant should cover their theater tickets and how they would never eat at a PF Changs again and who was the manager and they would definitely be letting corporate know that this branch was disorganized and lacked in customer service and...

The ex-waitress in me really wanted to smack them upside the head. The yogini in me wished they had paid my offering forward. The human in me wanted to tell them to get over themselves and go to hell.

Who would have thunk doing the right thing could be quite so complicated?

Here's hoping karma keeps track of these little bits and bobs...

TMI

Got some feedback today that my blog was a bit TMI. Have to say, sorry, but that's the deal. I don't have many forums (my journal, my blog) to be honest, so...

So, with that in mind, I post the following.

I've been worrying a lot about whether I am so smitten w/ the new guy b/c it means I don't have to be alone or b/c I really find so much connection between us.

There are a lot of things that point me to the realization that it's the good connection. We're starting to know the characters in one another's soap operas. We know some (not all!) of the trigger issues between ourselves. I know what movies he wants to see and he knows what movies I want to see. The argument will be over which we see together. (It's called compromise!)

Still, there are a lot of things we've got a massive disconnect on. He doesn't get that the standup circuit is a close-knit (if anonymous) group of personalities and we all know one anothers' stories and issues. So when I get excited talking about these people, it's like I'm talking about my friends (RIP Bob Schimmel). Mocking them very rightly ticks me off. (He's the same way w/ his music, although he doesn't see that). We have vastly different work lives and experiences. And, we're totally Jupiter/Mars (except I seem to be from Mars whereas he's Jupiter, but that's another story for another time...)

Yet, I desperately want to transcend these issues. Because I love him. Purely and honestly. He's good and decent and honest and direct. Not to mention intellectually stimulating and not so much bad with the physical stuff.

So I hope and wish and pray that we'll overcome these other little things.

This all was massively reinforced by tonight's episode of "Louie" on FX. The replay isn't up yet, but you'll be able to find it here. It's a beautiful portrait of what it sometimes means to be single, and alone.

And the Hits Just Keep On Comin

Just when you thought it was safe to go in the water...

Got a call from CBL last week - inviting me out to lunch.

I have NO idea what to expect.

1) She found out I threw her under the bus. (Sorry, but then you shouldn't have thrown temper tantrums at work)

2) She wants to give me dirt on the new boss (who was unbelievably beligerant on her last few days)

3) She wants to ask me to go "on the record" for her lawsuit against the company. (I shouldn't know this, but she handed me the retainer letter to her Attorneys at Law w/o a cover sheet. Um, YEAH, I'm gonna read it...)

So, I am feeling just a smidge nervous and awkward about today. What does one wear if they're either gonna get soda thrown in their face or sit through a free lunch and tears...?

Havin a Laugh

Tomorrow night, your's truly will get another opportunity to take in some fine stand-up comedy.

Joe Rogan is coming to town.

So, I'll be celebrating, then giggling, then stage door stalking and then crashing in the lovely Marriott Copley Plaza.

I invited LTRman because I thought he could use a night on the town. And then I informed him, if I actually meet Mr. Rogan and somehow convince him to join me in some highjinx, well...

No seriously.

Would you kick this guy out of bed for eating Eggo's?

And speaking of eating Eggo's, check out Joe's open letter to Kellog's from a few years back. Awesome. My favorite line? "Pop tarts? Are you kidding me? I would be willing to bet that 50% of the people buying pop tarts are stoned out of their fucking minds."

Common Sense - and the Problem with Not Having Any

OK - so here's a hypothetical situation to ponder...

Say someone - we'll call her Ms. M, commutes to work and, round trip, it takes about 3 hours. Let's also say that 90% of her work can be done online, especially if no one else is in the office.

Let's finally say that, when at home, Ms. M generally gets more work done because 1) commuting time 2) working lunches 3) no distractions.

Now, let's say that Ms. M's new boss has put a kaybosh on working from home - even if NO ONE else is there. Why, you might ask, would someone insist on this, given the reasons above?

Perhaps the reason is, "because your job was presented to you as an office job when you accepted the terms of employment, so you must be in the office."

So, say Ms. M posits that, if it's an office job, she has full permission to leave her laptop at work and turn off her Blackberry when she leaves the office. Sounds reasonable right?

You'd think.

Lack of productivity + failure to take work/life into account = disgruntled employee.

Luckily for someone, in the immortal words of a Ketchup Advisory Board commercial: "By her bumper stickers she doesn't appear to be someone who owns a gun...."

Talk about wanting to have your cake and eat it to.

Do they know?

There's always been stories about how cats can read minds or sense danger or know when people are sick or in pain.

My own family has stories about times when my mother was laid up with pneumonia and Sandy (rest her soul) never left her side.

I don't know if any of this is true or wishful thinking of the Cat Adoration Society.

But I can tell you this.

This summer, Peeps has been Ms. Aloof. Spending most of her time on the cool tile floor or on open windowsills.

But the last two nights, when I've been having a fair amount of emotional turmoil (GoodBuddy, LRMan, CBL, etc) she has rarely left my side.

Maybe it's just gotten cool enough for her to venture upstairs. Maybe she hopes I'll sneak her extra nummies if she hangs out. Or maybe - just maybe - she knows I need extra love...

Oh the horror! I'm in a functional relationship!

As per my recent posts, I am in serious amounts of intense relationship. Problem is, I'm not used to being in relationship - much less a functional one. So I'm having to re-edumacate myself.

Example: I've been feeling that during this last week of vacation for a very long time, I needed one day - an entire day - to myself. Lounge around. Do what I wanted, when I wanted to do it. Be ugly and/or smelly. Put my feet up on the coffee table. Nap on the couch. Whatever.

I stressed and stressed about bringing this up. The last longterm BF hated when I did anything without him. To the point where he got jealous of the time I spent at my gym. At. My. Gym. Getting fit - losing weight - for me, yes, but also for him. So, you may be able to understand why this was a loaded issue for me.

Alas, I did not give enough credit to LRman. Not at all.

"So, um, I've been thinking that sometime this week, during my vacation, I might just need to have a night to myself. Not that I don't love spending time with you - I do! - and not that I don't love falling asleep in your arms - I do! - I just need a little time to indulge myself. Is that cool?"

Response:

"Sure. no problem. Let me know what night works for you. Hell, I totally get needing a day to walk around in my underwear and scratch my balls."

OK - so it wasn't the most poetic or romantic thing to say. But it was totally real, it was totally reasonable, it was totally ..., unexcruciating.

Every corner I turn with LRman, he amazes me. Yes, we're still figuring out how to be in "a relationship" with each other. There are turns we need to navigate, bumps we need to identify. But I just know that it will be so much less painful or dramatic than it's ever been before for me.

And so, the irony is, I got my night off tonight. I've been home, cooked a pasta salad, have my hair in a ponytail and a grubby Tshirt (with no bra). And all I want to do is call him and tell him to come over. That I want to fall asleep in his arms. And wake up with them around me. I won't. Because I know tonight is important for both of us. But I know that that's what I want. And I know that means something...

Developments

News from the CBL front. Although I'm on vacation, several of my work friends emailed me on Monday to alert me that the new Head of Mktg position had been posted on our intranet. Also, to suggest I apply.

I'm not at all sure what I'm gonna do - in all seriousness, I think there are a few things I'd need to learn/experience before I could do a successful job. Still, I can't help but feeling a little hopeful that this is the long awaited light at the end of the tunnel.

There's clearly SOMETHING going on. I don't report to CBL anymore and neither do any of the sales team - at least not directly. She's offloaded several business relationships to others and delegated a number of important tasks to members of the team. It sure looks to me like they're making it easy for her to walk away with some measure of dignity.

And even if she doesn't get the heave-ho, there is a real likelihood that re-organization is in the wind. After all, now that marketing is starting to engage with other teams globally, wouldn't it make sense for us to all be one team?

If this all comes to pass, I will lose two monkeys off my back at once. Can anything be better?

People who challenge my statement that my life ALWAYS improves when I start getting regular reiki healing can KMA!

Who'da Thunk?

So, yet another fantastic evening with LRman. Our "fantastic" evenings are really nothing too special: sometimes live music, sometimes TV watching, sometimes just hanging out and talking. And yet they are so very special.

Who would have thought I would have found so much love in someone 17 years my senior, salt and pepper hair, a bit of a beer belly and paint caked under his nails? And yet I have.

He is fascinating. He's seen things and done things I can only marvel at. I have never been almost killed at a protest for desegregation. I never hitchhiked up and down the east coast. I haven't raised a fabulous daughter nor do I have Mein Kampf and the Kama Sutra on the same shelf in my bookcase.

I admitted today that I orignally worried that he might have thought of me as arm candy. (Of course, now that I know him so much better I realize that that is not at all something he would do.) I opened up about my marriage and the insecurities I felt before, during and after.

It didn't turn into a massive thing. I just shared my story and then he shared one about his brother - who suffers from the same syndrome as my ex. And then we shut up and watched Rescue Me.

As he was leaving for home, I kissed him goodnight and he said his usual "call ya tomorrow." And then, he grabbed me in a huge hug and whispered in my ear, "don't fret, hon." And, as per usual, he broke into a silly song, "It ain't nothin to fret about, worry about. It all gonna be okay."

I don't know the song or artist. I don't really care. Without making a deal out of it, he told me he heard me, he understood me and he reassured me.

No wonder I love him.

You Can't Fix Crazy

You know the phrase "penny wise but pound foolish?" Or, what about "Pick your battles carefully." Maybe "know what's worth falling on your sword for"?

CBL (CBFL?) clearly knows none of these.

There are several really important outstanding issues at work. Finalizing the budget spend for the rest of the year. Launching two targetted campaigns. Ensuring a successful launch of a partner-developed initiative.

What is CBL focused on? Providing the job title for a muckity-muck at one of our clients.

Since she's out of office, I offered to contact the client to get the title. No biggie, right?

Wrong.

Exhibit A: "Please do not contact them for XXX's title. I have his title on my computer. As you know, I can not access my computer at the moment. I will send it over as soon as I can. Please do not contact CLIENT. I will provide."

If your career is about to go down in flames, I know the thing I'll concentrate on is proving my ability to provide job titles. Cuz that's useful...

More Avoidance

Sorry - still trying to delay the logging onto of the VPNage.

Here is Morten (by the way, did I mention I met Morten Harkett?) in fabulous voice in one of the most amazing vocal feats ever (3:28 - 3:45 - seriously):



Sighhhhhhhh

Avoidance of Work

My new boss - Prima Donna that he is - has decided I am not allowed to work from home. It's an office job, he tells me. But, I reply, I can do everything at home I do in the office. But, he replies, it's an office job. Which is kind of like saying, you can't because you can't because I said so. In the world of 2010 telecommuting, it makes no sense. But it seems to stoke his ego and make him think he's in charge, so whatevs. I'll just be like water when it encounters a rock. I'll go over, around, through fizzures, and eventually still make it to the other side intact and integrated.

All that wonderful meditative therapy aside, I cannot pretend that his bullshit don't make girlfriend mad. And so even though I fully plan on working from home tomorrow (no one else will be in the office and he's in AZ, so who's to know?!?) I am avoiding returning to the world/worry of work.

One of the not-so-admirable ways I have of disassociating myself with work and other, perhaps more grounded, parts of myself is by becoming attached to my radio family at Sirius/XM's The Virus. I know it's not exactly NPR, the WSJ or the FT. But, it's F'ing Funny. And sometimes that's just what a girl needs.

Witness their take on the recent Social Media Sensation that is/was Double Rainbow Guy:

Still Smitten - and other reasons I'm a bad blogger

I checked back at my stats today and realized - holy shit! I'm a bad blogger! Of course, given my recent "woe is me" storyline, probably few readers left. Still, I should have more of a work ethic, I suppose.

Anyway, there are various and sundry reasons I've neglected my humble little ranting forum of late.

First off - Girlfriend be in love. Sure, it's way too early to tell how this could work out with LRMan. But, damn, I could get used to this. Can you imagine me -- ME! -- enjoying having a man fall asleep on my couch and not hating that I am washing up dishes while he snores? Holy heck - call an intervention!

Second - massive work craziness. BREAKING NEWS: CBL is now CFBL - crazy former boss lady. As of last Thursday, I now report in to a Prima Donna Sales Guy who may be equally as bad. The move makes absolutely no sense unless they are trying to remove everyone possible out from under CBL while they eradicate her. But, in the meantime, things are pretty FUBAR. Stay tuned.

I was letting this distress me for awhile, but the weekend away really did wonders. Just being at Kripalu, seeing the shining faces, integrating the joy, witnessing the nature, receiving nourishment from the food, spending way too much money on the clothes/incence/jewelry (okay, maybe not that part) is healing in and of itself. Add to that yoga, meditation and restorative and Whoosh! massive insight.

Third, it's summer! My best friend and daughter, Ma Bell, have been up to visit. Fiesta and Fourth fireworks have been showered, I've been biking and hiking and all sorts of other outdoor activities. (BTW - will have to write an entire post on the "explosive laughter" that was the BF and MB visit. It's amazing that we're not banned from CVS for life...)

So, in short, I haven't been posting, but life has been full of joy and wonder.

What I realized in part this weekend is that I should share THOSE stories too. Not just what's wrong, but what isn't wrong.

We should concentrate more on that. N'est-ce pas?

Of Jumping, Parachutes and Trust

At the risk of TMI ... there is a man lying sound asleep in bed next to me. He's fairly passed out from a hard day's - fuck that, a hard week's, a hard life's - day of work.

He is not at all my image of the "man of my dreams." Hell, for all I ever knew, it could have always been a "woman of my dreams."

Nonetheless, he is here, beside me, paint caked fairly permanently onto his fingers, beer belly, grey hair, and absolutely, unbelievably attractive to me.

I adore him. To the point where I wrote a short story at which GoodBuddy called me out. "Wow kiddo. Borrowing pretty heavily from real world fantasies are we?" In fact, GoodBuddy and I were really honest about it. On a random night last year, when we'd actually gone out to party, we ran into (what shall we name him?) I owned up. "Um, let's dance, but let's keep it fairly clean. And make sure I come off hot. I want to impress that guy over there." No idea if GoodBuddy was offended or not, but there you have it.

Fast forward a bit. I'd put out all the signals. Let's meet for a drink, let's hang out. Nothing. Finally, I invited him out for Fiesta. And finally, a nibble. Or, more truly, a full on, hard core, smooch.

I finally got what I wanted.

And now, the wicked, stupid, eff'ing insecure demon in me is wondering if I coerced him, forced him, somehow manipulated him into my bed. And if he would be here if it where someone - nay anyone - instead.

All the indicators point to no. And, if I am to be honest, he's wicked smart and wise enough to stand on his own and own up if this were a fly by night thing.

So why, oh why, do I continue to doubt myself?

Years and years of therapy and it still all comes down to this. Am I lovable?

But writing this out, I realize yes. I am. And yes, if he doesn't already, we're moving in that direction. Not because I made him. But because we are. We do. We will.

Smitten

Life has a really funny way of working out...

Last summer, I volunteered at the Cape Ann Farmers' Market. It was more than slightly a selfish move, although I love me some Local Food Movement. I've wanted for a long time to dig in deeper with the local community. Dig some roots. Find me some solid ground.

Whilst chipping in at the market, I came to know me a fella who shall be known as LRMan. (whether you think of this as LeatheRMan or LadderRackMan - entirely up to you.) He's not my "usual" type, but nonetheless, smart, funny, and on totally the same wavelength as yours truly.

I spent about nine months trying to clue him into the fact that I was mackin on him.

Maybe it's because he's a tad older than me. Maybe it's because he's male and - by default - numb to those things. (awww - seriously? c'mon - it's true!) Maybe it's a million different things.

But, finally, a week and change ago, it happened. And after the kiss, I looked at him and said, "well, damn! I've been waiting nine months for that!"

In some ways, we're taking things slow. He/I won't call one another boyfriend/girlfriend. (which at 30-something and 50-something seems moot anyway...) And yet, both of us play coy about when we'll get tired of one another/throw one another to the wolves / leave one another for greener pastures.

I can only speak for myself. He makes me giggle. He makes me laugh. He makes me think. He makes me talk. He hears me, he gets me and, when I am sick, he folds my arms around my teddy bear, kisses me on the forehead, tells me he's sorry he has to go, and wishes me sweet dreams.

So, yes, I want him around. For a good, long while. Other than that, no promises made. But I'm putting it out there. Girlfriend likes her LRMan.

Zero to 60

... or actually 52. But that's an inside joke.

So, after a long, ill-hidden chase, I finally lured the prey into my enchanted web of evil... by making him believe he was chasing me. It's a twisted thing, but we women are pretty derned good at it.

The problem of course, is that I've known for a long time that we would fit well together. And for his part, I think he does really like me and is enjoying the "courtship" stage.

That being said, this thing is moving fast. And that's where my insecurity comes in.

My M.O. is to get all caught up in the "gooey" phase and call it love waaaaay before it deserves the title. Then, by the time I realize it, it's three weeks late and a hundred short.

So, I'm trying to keep a handle on this one. But it's really hard. It's summer, the only AC in the apt is in my bedroom, and my roommate has practically moved into his girlfriend's house. So, how on Earth should we spend the evening...?

Just try telling a Leo to take it slow...

More Comedy

My family has a joke about Law & Order. We call it the Doink Doink show. As in the sound that comes on right after the theme song.

My parents have exhausting schedules. As does my brother. So when they come together at night to wind down, they like to watch some TV. And often, there's nothing any good on. Fifty-seven channels and nothing on...

But, at any given time, in any given place, there is an episode of Law & Order on.

And that's why I think these two following clips are so DERNED funny.


John Mulaney - Law & Order

D-Dub MySpace Video

Jokes.com
John Mulaney - Law & Order
comedians.comedycentral.com
Futurama New Episodes Ugly Americans Funny TV Comedy Blog

Karma's a Bitch, Ain't It?

So, here's a funny story about how shit can really come back to bite you.

Yesterday, after a 10 hour day of interviewing, I decided I didn't have the energy to commute back home. It was a selfish decision and, as such, I will not be charging it to the company. Yet, I still made the reservation around 6:15 pm.

I get to the hotel and there are two front desk "team members" on staff. One is helping one with a standard check in. The other is helping a woman with an attitude from hell.

And I quote: "This is unacceptable! I made this reservation a month ago. I am a platinum member. Well, of course not! This happens every damn time. I am so sick to death of you people. This is ridiculous. I am appalled at your servie. I gave you my platinum card. Well I can't imagine why you don't have my platinum card on file! I requested a suite on the conceirge floor and I should be upgraded! What do you mean it is all sold out?!?"

I think you get the picture. I could, of course, do nothing but catch the eye of the abused front desk clerk and give him a sympathetic glance.

When it came my turn to check in, I received the following welcome:

"Hello, and thank you for joining us. You'll just be here the one night? Well, we have your gold member on file, so thank you. Your room is on the concierge floor, 24, and your room is 24XX. The lounge serves cocktails until 10 and after that, softdrinks, milk and water are available free of charge. Have a lovely stay ma'am.'

So, yeah, membership has its priveleges. But so does being nice, I guess.

Par example

The writer in me

As you may well know, I love me some stand up comedy. And the comedy I love is those quick. quippy, one liners. The ones that make sure you're on your toes. Eddie Izzard. Jim Norton. Jim Jefferies. Joe Rogan. Bill Hicks. Jon Dore. Harland Williams. Some well known. Some not so much. But all of them have one thing in common: it's all about the nuances.

So it seems a non-sequitor that I bring up a movie now, but it isn't really. Saw Iron Man 2 today. If you haven't seen it, do. The writing was amazing. The one-liners thrown in throughout the movie were hysterical. At one point, my friend scolded me: "it isn't that funny." No, really, it is.

The humor was quick and sharp. The details were amazing. But, like so many things, the details were there for those who were on their toes.

Chatting with a friend later we realized, "If only the world were as sharp as us..."

OK. I'm a bit of a narcissist. But so is Tony Stark. So there.

So much stuff, so little time

Had an amazing session with awesome therapist this a.m. Basically boiled down to this: Got ridiculously emotional b/c I am wicked tired but handled it very well and once I get some rest I'll probably be OK.

And she's right.

I feel good. Exhausted, but good.

I have an interest in pursuing a friendship with someone who is a technogeek but uber cool. Lives in Seattle but that might be overcomable.

Got an email from a cutey who lives in Toronto which is completely logistaclly doable.

Am soon to enter into season of hangage with someone who is inherently attractive.

A week away from Pride, suggests endless possibilities.

As I said in therapy today, "Who knows what the future holds." It is SO VERY AWESOME to say that and mean it...

Dear Universe,

Thank you.

As you know, I had a very loooooooong two weeks, prepping and working the biggest tradeshow of the business year. And I'm tired. I was supposed to take Monday off to recuperate, but CBL couldn't do without me. As such, I'm REALLY tired.

This a.m. I felt too tired to even move. Woke up out of a bad dream an hour before the alarm went off and - due to kitties being hungry - could not go back to sleep.

By the time I got in the shower, I was literally crying I was so exhausted.

Just a few minutes later, my work phone rang. Amazing Database Administrator. A firestorm was brewing and he wanted to run his response by me. And, as always, in the process he made me laugh.

And realize once again just how many blessings I have.

So, Universe, thanks for having my back.

Knot Tying Demonstration And Class With Gardy Winchester Video

This post practically wrote itself:

"Little brown eel comes out of the cave... Swims into the hole... Comes out of the hole... Goes back into the cave again... It's not too good is it Chief?"

What are you, Captain Knots? Capt. Tying Knots? Anyone needs a knot tied they go to you."

PS - this awesome guy saved my computer from death. Weird weird world....

PSS - Props to Capt Joey for recording and posting this.

TMI

I went for an early morning bike ride this a.m.

Because I was not thinking clearly whilst purchasing my new bike, I forgot to add in a bottle clip. So drinkage is difficult while cycling.

Ergo, I usually stop at the Rockport General Store and down a Gatorade before tackling the second half of my route.

Today, an old salty seadog followed me right into the store. Feeling rather spritely, I noted that "it's way too hot to be wearing coveralls."

He grinned at me - several teeth missing - and gave me a wink. "You'd be surprised. They let the air ... circulate."

OK - I know I invited that one. But really? Ew!

"Therapy Speech"

It's kind of a joke among many of my friends that, when one is in therapy for awhile, one develops "therapy speech.' (or, as Sheldon on BBT would say, "one can also get beat up in high school for referring to oneself as "one"...) Therapy speech is basically using the language of talk therapy in everyday life where, unfortunately, not everyone is so blessed or priveleged as you and is not currently "In Treatment."

Today, I caught myself using therapy speech. A friend asked me how things were going.

"Pretty good. I had a bit of a backslide this weekend, but I realized it, acknowledged it, found my center again and forgave myself for forgetting myself momentarily."

OK - maybe it's not QUITE as corny as that. But still, it is pretty corny.

Which is why it amazes me so much that it works.

I really did see myself backsliding this weekend. After a week of 24x7 CBL and "team bonding" with the work group, I pretty much felt emotionally ambushed. That on top of a really insane travel schedule and I was in danger of losing sight of the me that is me.

But, I managed to wake up this a.m., recite my mantra in the shower (hey, that way the roomie can't hear it) and take the steps I need to take to take care of myself.

Including bringing a travel alarm clock to the office to make sure I don't miss yoga!

So, it sounds new age, fluffy bunny, touchy feely, but this stuff works.

And, then, of course, I took an amazing yoga class where the instructor assisted me no less than three times. We did lots of poses that I can easily do (encouraging) and many poses I need to work on (challenging) and managed to hit a great balance so I walked out of there glowing.

And I've got a bike ride planned for the a.m. Altho - if I'm as sore tomorrow as I was last Tuesday, maybe more yoga is what the doctor orders...

Damn Leftist Elitists

So, I'm almost halfway through Team Bonding Extravaganza 2010 Part One. I hate this shit. I like some of the people I work with. I love some of the people I work with. I hate some of the people I work with. And others? Well, it's wicked complicated.

(And yes, I know there are many dangling participles in the previous 'graph. Deal.)

So this Group Hug shit drives me wicked crazy.

Regardless. Or irregardless. (They mean the same thing btw.) We all went to Blue Man Group tonite. Just so happens I wind up sitting next to CBL.

Not going to pretend the show wasn't mesmerizing. The "actors" were phenomenal. And even though the show was a visual and aural extravaganza, I also was really blown away by the social and metaphorical commentary the show offered.

Or maybe that was just me.

Because CBL sat there and laughed and giggled at the silly bits and couldn't seem to understand why I was disturbed at some bits or gleeful at others.

So, yes, I spent a lot of the show evaluating and comparing my reaction to the performance to the reaction of those around me. Which, I guess, is pretty Meta. And I guess I'm still on the fence about whether this is a good thing or bad thing.

But I do know that it made me realize I am glad that I have friends who could go out for coffee with me after this show and discuss/debate the meaning behind the cool drumming, the boggling blacklight effects, the atmospheric use of audience participation, A community to evaluate the commentary on decadence/consumerist nature of society, the duality of seeing and being seen, the effects of conformity and non-conformity, and the commercialization of art.

Because CBL thought it was just really funny to see a bunch of guys force feeding Cap'n Crunch.

I saw an expose on the commercialization and devaluation of consumption and the loss of communal values.

Does this make me a damn elitist? Probably. Am I glad that it does? Probably. But the jury is still out on the issue...

I was RIGHT THERE

This video was taken by the person standing next to me at the Friday night show. You can actually hear me screaming at the end. How do I know? Well, I think (I could be wrong...) that I was the only person screaming "Thank you" in Norwegian. "Takk skal du ha" anyone

By the way, did I mention I met the band...? *grin*

Isn't it funny?

I sent around an email on Tuesday, alerting my team that, "As of Thursday, 12 noon EDT, I will be off phone, offline, off radar as I will be stalking myself some Norwegian musicians. I will return to the office on Monday. I will return to Earth sometime next month."

And so I was rightfully surprised when my BB rang today and showed a Boston office number. There were two possibilities. CBL or awesome new hire (ANH). I took my chances. It turned out great.

ANH apologized right left and center for calling me. But there was a bit of a debaucle and she was concerned about how to handle it. And, although, yes I am technically of radar, I wasn't at all troubled about talking her through it. I told her in unmistakable terms, that it was fine that she called me, she could free to call me again if she needed to, that she was handling it correctly and that IT WAS ALL GOOD.

I felt great after the phonecall. The crisis was averted, she was comfortable again and all was even more right with the world. (Yes, still on cloud one hundred and nine from last night!)

I even admitted to her that I was still lounging in bed in my hotel room. And she had words of wisdom to offer me: "This weekend you should live for the night and not for the day." Man, I love her!

That being said, if the phonecall HAD been from CBL, I think I would have ripped her hair out from the roots and made her eat it.

Isn't it funny how different people and different approaches can affect your behavior in such different ways?

Manhattan Skyline

It's always darkest before the dawn, right? Happy to say - dawn is upon us. And then some!!

My friend observed late last night that, "you okay? your voice sounds a bit rough..." Well, yeah! I've been screaming like a sixteen year old for three hours!

Yesterday was Day One of the two day A-ha extravaganza!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I queued up around 3:30 for a doors opening at 7. I met amazing peeps and had loads of fun. I became an instant hero because my ringtone is Take On Me. We shared stories, compared notes on favorite songs and albums, learned where we were all from and what brought us to the show, what we did for a living and what our pet peeves were. Instant bonding. (Which, of course, is different than instant bondage!)

Doors open, and I make a beeline for the merchandise table. $125 dollars later, I've got two shirts, a poster and a bag to show for it.

Ran into my friend from line and we devised a strategy. First night, front row against the rail, second level. From there, we could take in the entire show. She cried at her songs, I cried at mine. We both cried at the end, when the band stood together, arms around each other, and shouted GoodBye. Night two would be the chance to bum rush the stage, close enought to watch the sweat pour down their faces.

After the show, I waited - not exactly patiently - for the band to come out. One by one, they did. Mags. Pal. And then - finally - Morten.

I got all of their signatures. And when Morten came out, I got to look him in the eye and say, "Thank you. Thank you for everything."

Because they've been the soundtrack to my life. Scoundrel Days came out when I was a teenager and needed to go in my room and be angry at my parents and shout loudly along with Cry Wolf. And Analogue came out when I was going through a rough break-up. And East of the Sun West of the Moon came out when I was trying to figure out who I was and what I believed in.

So I thanked him. And then, the most amazing thing happened. Morten Harkett, the only unblemished love of my life, looked ME in the eyes and said, "You're so very welcome."

It was only a moment to him. He probably forgot it the second after it was said. But it will remain with me forever. Because at that moment, I found a true glimpse into what made me ME.

I drove an hour into Manhattan to experience something important to me. I navigated my way from Jersey to the Lincoln Tunnel and then through the busy streets of New York City. I stood in line with strangers and wound up with friends. I found someone I totally connected with. I chatted with drunken fanboys. I got the signature of each member of a band I've loved forever. I walked to a luxurious hotel and from the downy comfort of my bed, I shared my exultation with friends across the country.

I am strong. And powerful. And passionate. And confident. And capable. And dedicated. And funny. And insightful. And likeable. And worthwhile.

I'd forgotten all of this.

It took a concert to remember.

Life is funny, ain't it?

Hmmmmm

Been having a complicated week. Lots of stress w/ Good Buddy - altho he's finally owned up and said, yes, he screwed up and this pretty much was all his fault. Some stress w/ work peeps, altho that's also pretty much resolved itself. And then mucho happiness w/ a 15 mile bike ride, some ocean gazing, a hike and beach walking in bare feet.

So, good times, bad times, in between times.

What I have realized is that I CAN be in control of my life. Whether I am making decisions that will be for my higher good or not, they are decisions I am making. I'm not being tossed about by the waves any longer.

I know, for example, that I have more than 30 emails from CBL in my inbox. But it is Sunday. The Lord's day of rest (grin). And so I shan't look at them until tomorrow. Afternoon, because I have a mtg starting at nine. And that's when the work day begins. And my time is my time.

I also know that the best thing for me to be doing right now is to be out enjoying the sunshine and warmth. But right now, I feel like hunkering down in the dark, cuddling w/ my kitties and being sad. Not despondent, but sad. So that is what I will do.

All in all, feeling this way is a good thing. Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate, our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.

Amen and Hallelujia!

Drinking Out of Cups

This thing makes me laugh every time I watch it. No matter what mood I'm in.

What a wonderful summation of existence.

Not me. Not now, not never. Nope. ... Not my chair, not my problem. Lighthouses rule.

Know What's Amazing?

Having your tech guy make reference to one of your favorite movies under his breath.

Experiencing adventures in travel without stress or anxiety and then walking into a conference room of people who don't shake your hand but give you a hug.

Being called to ask for your "expert" opinion on choosing a new bike.

Finding two cats curled up and asleep on your bed, being far too cute.

Discovering your roommate's son finally feels comfortable enough in front of you to dance.

Having wonderful friends who can talk to you about deep things and silly things, emotions and cosmic reality, anime conventions and th Dresden Files and still not think you're a nutjob.

Staying in your jammies and robe all day and rejoicing about it, all while knowing that tomorrow you will wear well-ironed professional attire, will make your bed and will eat meals at a regular hour.

Getting weepy and sad but knowing that your life won't end.

Feeling disappointed but still knowing you can look forward to fiddlehead season.

Enjoying the smell of garlic and onions sauteeing in a pan.

Thinking it important that you can appreciate NPR and raunchy radio all at the same time.

Wondering at making a toddler smile in an elevator because she has a Disney Princesss ball and you have a Sleeping Beauty keychain.

Knowing that that little girl's mother was thankful fo the distraction because baby was being a brat.

Regretting that someone gave up a lot of potentially enjoyable experiences because he was too afraid to face confrontation.

Seeing a double rainbow and knowing that it meant The Universe would help you as you began a new chapter in your life.

Remembering how much fun I had in Seattle, wandering on my own, talking to strangers, marvelling at the Japanese gardens and walking home in a gentle rain.

Believing that moving to London is a pipe dream and a possibility all at the same time.

Being confident that I deserve love and respect and trust and the space, time and confidence to be comfortable in who I am and do the things that make me happy.

Establishing and supporting the Lady McHerb project.

Finally realizing, heart and soul and mind, that the Lady McHerb project is the most important thing I will ever do.

Again, why do I do this to myself?

Can't sleep tonite. Welcome back, insomnia girl. The new meds - altho technically not "contraindicated" don't react well w/ the sleeping pills. So, I lay me down, book in hand, soft music playing, meditation reciting and still... It's 6:04 and seriously, not a wink.

Not boding well for the noon yoga class tomorrow.

Here are the things keeping me from sleep.

• A 26-page journal entry (bear in mind the pages really aren't that big) to GoodBuddy. I thought I'd covered all of it - in a healthy and rational way. And then I read some of the emails in my "drafts" folder. I was mad. And pretty rightly so. A lot of it was my insanity. But a lot of it was his inability to deal with things. And one fed off another fed off another and soon you have a vicious circle. So where does that leave my healthy 26-page, non-angry, objective journal entry?
• Facebook cruising. Why do I do this? Everyone I know is married, most with children. I look at honeymoon photos and they all seem so much happier than mine. Sure, a discussion with a really good friend once ended in, "but you don't want that. I know you don't. You've told me how many times you love travelling on your own, living on your own, not having to offer excuses or explanations - not to mention respnsibilites of children - to anyone. It's a choice, girl, not a demand. Live your life according to YOUR happiness, not anyone else's. And, yes, that's totally true. But I know and you - dear reader - know that single, childless women are STILL regarded as somehow... unfulfilled, defective, insufficient. F*** I wish I didn't care what other people thought
• Novel reading. I sincerely thought Drood was a labor in stubborness. So many people said it was a page turner and I thought - ugh - no way. Now, can't put it down. Scarabs in his head?
• And speaking of which - there has been some major cockroad activity - and generally bugginess - going on. A big honkin cockroach crawling along my ceiling. The ever-present cockroaches in my office. The buzzing of the mosquito in my ear tonight (my windows ARE open, but still, isn't it kind of early?). And the feeling that I've got creepy crawlies all over me. Not sure if that's the result of all the bug talk going on of late w/ CBL and others in the office, or the Reiki detox, or what. But yuck! I hate it. Itching everywhere and constantly checking for bugs when I logically know there are none.
• Finally, the work issue. What with my hard drive eating itself, the craziness of the P.O. non-process, managing the Awesome New Hire (have to come up w/ an acronym for her, I've been flat out. CBL wants to talk about things like what are we going to do for our "fun" activity in mid-May. I want to get all the crap that I need to get done, done. Like registering everyone for another important conference when early bird registration ends Friday. Or updating the Partner Status Plan that she asked for yesterday (when I had no computer so, sorry you're SOL.) Instead, I got an hour of her 3oth High School Reunion planning, a bunch of time on office gossip and then, finally, to work. I'm trying my best to stay focused and mindful of the situation, but it IS a bit tough when you have goals to meet.

So, here I am, almost 6:20 am and nothing to show for it. An entire night gone. Sure, I read some, wrote a lot (a lot a lot) and played a little bit of some gaming. Sheesh - my morning radio program started 19 minutes ago!

My heart tells me to TXT GoodBuddy and see how he's doing. My head tells me no. He was in a rough place last night, so probably best to let it lie...

Now, the question is, do I try to sleep for three hours, or just suck it up and stay awake today?

Hmmm....

Five Ducks!

So, I've been really practicing my mindfullness. It sounds really trite and hokey, but, hell, the Dalai Lama looks pretty darn happy, right?

So, I'm walking in to work from the train station today and practicing my "mindful walking." And I'm noticing the flowers (bad for allergies, btw) and the sunshine and the sparking water and the fact they're shining up the Swan Boats. Spring is springing.

And then I see a mom with her two small children. Well, we all know how much I love kids. Yeah, not so much. But I heard this little boy, counting loudly: "One. Two. Three. Four. Five." And he turns to Mom, a look of triumph on his face, chest thrust out proudly, feet firmly planted in the ground. And he shouts, "Mommy! I counted FIVE DUCKS!"

And I realized, no matter what I did today. No matter how many project plans I finished or invoices I processed or registrations I registered, NOTHING I did today would be nearly as important as that little boy counting FIVE DUCKS.

PS

Forgot to mention. I only had 717 emails. Damn, I lose Powerball again!

What did YOU hear?

Upon me telling GoodBuddy (yes, we still speak, altho eggshells are being tread upon) that I was reading Peace is Every Step by Thich Nhat Hanh, he heard "Thick, Not Hung."

Some minds are just too sick to understand.

Long Duk Dong anyone?

Finding Yourself

So, on Monday, I met with Awesome Therapist. And I had this to offer: "My alarm went off this morning, I went downstairs, put on my morning radio program (I have admitted to being a talk radio geek, right?) and sat down to have my breakfast. But something felt weird. And then I realized, I didn't have my laptop in front of me."

Of course, she was shocked. Most normal people would be shocked. But the reality is, I get so many emails from CBL from 7 pm to 6 am that if I didn't start the day that early, how on earth could I catch up?

What this week has shown me is -- who cares? If she sends so many emails that I can't deal with them and my daily tasks, then I don't. I am way more important than her emails. My life, my happiness, my very existence, is way more important.

And to that point, GoodBuddy. He's in town but has found countless and innumerable things to occupy his time other than see me. I know that he's putting it off because he would rather not - or more likely can not - deal with ... this. Whatever this is or was. And tonight I basically called him out. We were supposed to see each other. Then, we were supposed to call each other. And then he forget. As per usual.

The reality is, I keep looking in the rearview when I need to look through my telescope.

He's no good for me. He brought out that what was worst in me. He's hard --- Deal with it, get over it, life sucks move on -- whereas I prefer to soften to grace -- life may be hard, but there is a lesson to be learned. Soften to grace and you can find that your soul sings the song of The Universe. There is a balance between opening up and muscle-ing up, and a full life requires a balance between the two. Or, as Anusara Yoga puts it, Muscular Energy and Organic Energy.

Anusara teaches that it is all about Hugging in, and Radiating out. Strength and Softening. In Ardo Mukha, (downward dog) if you are all strength and no soften, you will stress the shoulders and the wrists. But if you feel the balance between the two, you may feel some DOMS (delayed onset muscle soreness) but you will not injure yourself.

GoodBuddy would find all of that "who ha" -but I find it real and powerful and that's why I found myself sitting on a rock in the sunshine, laughing and crying at the same time.

Once upon a time, he had the time and the interest to focus on these matters of the spirit. Now he is all about fixating on his future. As TNH puts it, we are very good about planning for our life, but not very good at living it.

I have so many people in my life that are not very good for me. It's no wonder I have lost focus on my center. But every day I shall do the work of "breathing in calm and breathing out a smile." Hopefully that will help. Hopefully that will keep the joy in my life.

Namaste.

I went hiking today and saw sorrel springing from the ground and buds reaching out from trees. I could see the first sprouting of fiddleheads and the scampering of robins and summer birds. I have to own all these parts of myself and love who I am. I cannot deny them any longer. I cannot allow someone else to tell me what they want and bow to that. I MUST follow my own bliss.

If you haven't read Peace is Every Step, I highly recommend you do. As someone who counts Dandelion as an herbal ally, this poem spoke powerfully to me:

I have lost my smile
But don't worry
The dandelion has it.

As Thich Nhat Hanh writes, If you have lost your smile, yet still are capable of knowing the dandelion holds if for you, things cannot be that bad."

Tomorrow, I return to work. My guess is that I have 727 emails. My mailbox probably shut down around 600, but that doesn't stop some people. I will get to as many as I can. And then, at 5:30, I will turn my computer off and head to yoga. Because I am more important. My life is more important. And it's time I started living that.

It's Complicated

Contemplation

New Blossoms

It's been a complicated a couple of weeks.

I've had two pretty serious meltdowns. The first resulted in not so favorable circumstances, although I did get 13 hours of sleep.

The second resulted in exactly what I needed.

I've not been paying attention to what I need. I've been staying at work when I should be shutting down and going to yoga. I've been spending Sundays in front of the computer working on plans, budgets or communications.

I have in no way, shape or form been respecting who or what I am.

Add to that the fact that my family has been a basic shit and GoodBuddy shut me down because he couldn't handle admitting to me he'd found a new girlfriend.

In the midst of being constantly barraged by work, no rest and no support from the people I'd relied on to be my support and validation, I had a meltdown. Which resulted in me experiencing life in the emergency room and the psych ward.

Which would have been bad enough. But I kept being barraged by CBL (what part of I can't answer the phone because I'm in the hospital do you not understand?), kept being avoided by GoodBuddy and suffered unrelenting defensiveness and resistance from the parental units. Add one plus one plus one and you equal second nervous breakdown.

Luckily, this time was different. I was able to call on a friend who was nearby and accessible. Who not only could but was interested in making the journey to assist me. (Not to dismiss my other friends who stepped in during my first crisis. But there REALLY are time and distance obsticals.) Instead of being judged by a cold, distant triage bitch, I got held and comforted by a true friend. Instead of spending the night under an itchy, thin hospital blanket, I was held by someone who listened without judgement and fell asleep holding my hand.

More than that, we got to hang out the whole next day. No, it was not slam bang thank you ma'am, as nothing at all sexual happened. As if I was in any condition to deal with that. But I was made to feel no guilt or shame for the emotional firestorm of the meltdown. It was what it was, it was real and, hey, if there are still tears, let them come.

I have lots of thinking to do. I have lots of work I have to do to repair the damage I and others have done to my soul. I need to re-evaluate the role others have in my life and the expectations and hopes I have for them. And how I react if and/or when my personal projections are different than reality.

What I've realized more than anything is that I owe myself the respect of honoring myself. Whether that means taking a yoga class or admitting I need to work from home more than one day a week, or taking more walks around my island, has yet to be seen. But I know I need to disconnect and spend some more time teasing out the tangle of my thoughts and my feelings.

I don't want to run away. I don't want to disengage. I don't want to pretend that I have deep thoughts, a healthy perspective, or an introspective understanding. I want to live that truth. I've got a long way to go. But it's not an impossible path. Just one that takes commitment and belief.

Surprises Around Every Corner

The best surprises are when people you love do something totally and completely unexpected. Do something that totally reinforces you and your personhood on every level.

I called my family tonight. We're talking again. It's tense, but we'll figure it out. Still I wanted to clear some of the air.

During the conversation, the fact came up that dad had called my therapist. Without asking or even notifying me. Of course she could not call him back without consulting me first. I in no way, shape or form gave her permission to talk to him. No way, no how. Not now, not never.

Tonight we talked about that. About why I felt that he had intruded on the one place that was safe and mine only. **FIRST NAME** is mine." Then I paused. "I should call her *** Dr. LAST NAME. It's disrespectful not to give her that status. I guess I'm too familiar."

And my dad responded. "Yes, **Dr. LAST NAME**. I didn't even know her name until I looked her up on the internet. She has quite the degrees. And some well-respected publishings."

"Yes, I know. She's a smart cookie. "

"And quite attractive too."

"She sure is. But don't get any ideas, dad. She's married." I laughed softly, trying to reduce the tension.

"Oh. I didn't think she was. I mean, um, she didn't look to me like, um, the kind of woman who, um, would get married."

"You thought she was a lesbian?"

"Yes, I guess I did."

"Jeez, I wish. But no, she's married."

"Wait. What? You wish?"

"Yeah, dad. You said it yourself. She's very smart and she's quite attractive. Duh."

"Oh." pause. "Okay then. Fair enough."

Okay, so it wasn't a ringing endorsement. I don't think dad is ready to know the ins and outs of my personal or intimate life. I sure shootin don't think he's gonna run out and march in a PFLAG parade. But he also didn't freak out. And that surprised me in a really, really good way.

What do YOU remember?

It's Easter Sunday and a I think I'm going to do little more to celebrate than eat a peanut butter egg. Hey, just because I'm not Christain doesn't mean I can't co-opt their chocolate rituals.

But here's the weird thing I associate with Easter: The Smurfs. Smurfette actually.

For some reason, my parents put a Smurfette figurine in my Easter basket one year. I'm not quite sure why - I've never been particularly girly or comfortable with my "feminine wiles." But, there, among the pink plastic grass, sat a little blue and blonde girl.

And, lo, I loved her! I carried her around with me the whole day. And so a tradition was born.

By the time I was in High School, I had entire shelves lined with little plastic dolls. Ballerina Smurfette, Smurfette sitting on a mushroom, cheerleader Smurfette, you name it.

I don't know what happened to those figurines. I assume that they're in a plastic bag somewhere - maybe the closet in my old bedroom or the attic. I guess it doesn't really matter where they are. Because they're really in my heart. And I guess that's where it's most important.

Time, Time, Time, See What's Become Of Me

I know that you, dear reader, are probably tired of me dredging up shit and posting about it. You get it, the plot has been laid out. The ending is obvious. Move ON (dot org.) But I still have a few things I guess I need to say in writing. Sorry. Hit the close page button if need be.

I look back on the the last two weeks and it all seems unreal... How could this all have happened in just two weeks? A short 14 days in the grand, overarching total of my existence?

I was no secret that Good Buddy was avoiding me. I knew that he was and I knew why. But that was the reason I was so upset about it. We've always been totally and completely honest with one another. I've always known where I stood and how he felt. And while it wasn't the ideal for me, I knew - absolutely, completely and unconditionally - that he promised to be there for me.

Except this time, he wasn't.

I left emails, Txt messages. Voicemails. All I said was the clear truth. I've been working my knuckles to the bone, I'm exhausted and stressed out and feeling insecure and I need someone who loves to tell me it will be okay. That I am that good, that it will be alright. That of course I've dotted every I and crossed every T.

Instead, he completely avoided me. Abandoned me. Ignored me.

The reason was simple and I knew it before he even admitted it.

That wasn't the issue. The problem was, we'd sworn to one another that, no matter what, we'd hold each other up in times of weakness. We'd love each other no matter what and be the rock of support for each other no matter why or how we needed it.

So when I realized I couldn't count on him - and I sure shooting couldn't count on my parents - and all my friends were hundreds of miles away - and then heard the news my father was facing the hospital again - I lost it.

Really and truly lost it.

I acted badly. I acted selfishly. I also acted very very REALLY. Until that kind of darkness descends, you have no idea of what it can be like.

I am blessed that I have friends - unlike my family and unlike GoodBuddy who think that everything can be handled by manning up or pulling yourself up by your bootstraps - I have friends who are willing to recognize that I was in dire pain and could call my therapist or take time off of work to drive me to the ER.

I'm not whole hearted yet, but I'm a shoot-load better. I am laughing at jokes and plotting out the future and engaging in activities that will serve to heal myself.

All is not perfect with the fam. But more on that for another time.

All is also not perfect with GoodBuddy I need some answers and I need some clarification. We both know we need to "chat" but our schedules keep missing each other. But while I can't condone nor understand all of his behavior, I also can't imagine a future that he is not in. Maybe that's an abused woman making excuses. Maybe that's a weak woman giving in to "established cultural misogyny" . But I prefer to think that it's my rational coping mechanism when I have been misunderstood all of my life and have finally found someone who - while they don't fit the image or role that I would dream of - still knows and accepts the entire universe that is me.

In short, I don't yet want to think of a future that GoodBuddy is not a part of. When we first lost each other, I spent so much time searching for him. I looked for his truck on Rt. 93, I searched for his face in the Financial District, I heard his voice in my head, I Googled for his obituary on the Internet.

When he finally came back into my life, it was too much to believe. We've both grown and changed so much. Our relationship has so completely evolved. But in the end it boils down to this. We've seen the worst in each other. The very very worst. And we still both want to wake up and say G'day Mi Love and go to sleep and text G'nite MiLove. I don't know what form that will or can take to make sure I'm still sane and healthy as time goes by.

Right now I know I can't argue with a Universe that split us up so completely and then re-united us? I can't. Not right now.

Who are you to tell me?

I've been suffering a lot lately. And a lot of it has to do with how I am navigating the new world order with GoodBuddy. My friends tell me that he treats me bad. That he's cruel. That he's no good for me. And I can see how they see that.

I also know all of the reasons that he is dear to my heart are pretty powerful and making it hard to say goodbye.

My father informed me tonight that he called my therapist and informed her - and consequently me - that me continuing this relationship was like an abused woman returning to the scene of the crime.

GoodBuddy has given me the option of how I want to progress - if at all - with our relationship. And, yes, there are lots of things that anger me and lead me to believe I should tell him to lose my number. He demeaned our relationship. He passively agressively posted things to Facebook instead of dealing with them up front and to my face. But he's also been there for me when things have been really bleak. He's been a rock of support (granted not last week) when I needed him. We've shared laughter and love and intensity and insecurity. It hasn't always been perfect. But it's been real.

He told me the next move was mine to make. And I don't know what I want. I need to think and meditate and consider. What I don't need is for my family - who has never truly understood who or what I am - to tell me what to do.

Life is complicated. It's messy. Sometimes the rational decision isn't the right decision. Sometimes the decision you make with your heart is the worst thing you can do for your soul.

I honestly don't know what's going to happen from here. I want to post nasty things to his FaceBook page. I want to send mile long emails to him outlining everything I'm going through. But I also want it to just go back to being easy, being comfortable. To him making jokes and me getting them. To knowing what each other is thinking, holding each other and letting it all ride out. I don't know if that is possible and, even if it is, I don't know that it's for the best.

Like I said, life is messy. But I need to figure this one out on my own.

It's Not About the Bike

There are some things you can't argue with. Like if you stick your hand on a hot stove, you're going to get burned. There's other things you can argue with. Like whether the toilet paper should roll over or under. (Over, btw) And there are other things that part of your mind WANTS to argue with but another part - your mental big bully - won't let you argue with. It just slams any rationality or common sense up against the school locker and lets everyone know that these are HIS hallways.

That's kinda like what a manic episode is like. Except you only realize it after the fact. Usually after the Ativan kicks in.

Here's another thing you can't argue with. When you're averaging three hours of sleep a night, stressed out to the hilt, being barraged by a 48 year-0ld infant who can't survive without you, and dealing with the loss of a friend, your body will shut down. Somehow, someway, it's gonna find a way to crash and burn.

And that's all I'm gonna say about March 23.

Somewhere around 9:30 pm (I'd been asleep since about 6), I woke up and realized I was hungry. For a moment I thought abuout just rolling back over, closing my eyes, and falling back into the wonderful, sweet world of dreams. But I didn't. I padded down the hallway to the kitchenette and made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I sat on a hard plastic chair and ate the world's most delicious sandwich ever.

When I read Lance Armstong's "It's Not About the Bike," one comment stuck with me. Everyday, during his entire cancer ordeal, he would get up and get on his bike. Sometimes he coould go ten miles, sometimes only one. But he said to himself each day, "As long as I can still get on this bike, I'm going to live."

A peanut butter sandwich is probably not as impressive as riding a bike ten miles while suffering through testicular cancer. But sometimes you gotta grasp whatever straw is in front of you.

What's to say?

I want to say something profound. Something meaningful. I want to say that I've finally stood up for myself, found my center, asserted my dignity.

But all I want is for him to call me.

And he won't.

I hate being a cliche.

Long Time Coming

I posted just the other day about being harsh with Yoga Girl and giving her cold, hard facts.

It's time I drank my own KoolAid.

For weeks - months? - GoodBuddy has been really, seriously, taking me for granted. I get phonecalls that consist of him ranting, raving and justifying for 20 minutes. And then hanging up. Without once asking me how I am or what's going on in my life.

And if I had nothing to report, that might not be so bad.

But I've got lots to report.

1) I'm on my way to happiness. And despite my hesitancy to rely on medication, and despite so many people insisting that depression and/or mental illness could be cured by willpower and determination, I am not going to argue with science, much less tangible success.(For more on this, download the BBC "World Have Your Say" or check out The Happiness Project.)

2) I've gotten a promotion, a raise, and a new hire who reports to me. This is daunting, scary, uplifting and challenging, all at once.

3) The biggest tradeshow of our year is next week

4) Various and sundry other life issues that someone who loves me should care about.

He's told me he realizes he's been neglecting me. He's apologized. He's told me he loves me. And he's done it all in that tone of voice that makes me melt. And, he's called me "baby" and "love" more times than I can count.

But that and $1.91 will get you a medium coffee.

When he does ask me what's going on, his comments are usually on the order of telling me what to do and how I should act. Me: "I gotta get moving. It's bed time." Him: "Yeah, you need your sleep. You need to be on your A Game. Be sharp. You've got a job to do." To which I think, "uh, yeah. Duh.." He acts like my own decisions and my good judgements haven't gotten me this far. I know what I'm doing and sometimes I make mistakes but, in general, I'm doing a damn good job. See point 2.

I need - no, deserve - to be with someone who truly cares about me. Who wants to know what's going on in my life. Who cares. Who wants to be something more to me than the person who judges my choices and dictates my actions. In short, someone who realizes that I'm valuable, intelligent, funny, caring and and a person who has a heart capable of a lot of love.

I used to know I could rely on GoodBuddy for that assurance. Just being with him made me feel whole, special, wanted, at peace. But lately I've felt like I was little more than a microphone. Here to absorb what he said and then be shut off.

I just can't live with that anymore.

so it breaks my heart, but I have to say goodbye. At least until things change. Until he stops taking me for granted. Until he starts caring about me as much as I care for him.

I deserve that much.

Back on the mat

You may have noticed that I haven't posted about yoga in awhile. That's because I haven't been on the mat in ages. I even stopped wearing my Om necklace because I felt hypocritical. How could I claim to be a yogini when I hadn't done a downward dog in months?

Tonight, I practiced. I've been using a million reasons to talk myself out of taking a class. Too tired, too cold, too much work to do. But the reality is, I couldn't fathom spending an hour and a half facing my true self. Cuz that's what yoga is really about. Yea, the postures make you strong and lean and improve your body through alignment, stretching and detoxification. But in the end it's all about finding the stillness amidst the activity, the mind race, the chatter. How could I endure that for an hour and a half?

Well, today, I did it. I didn't give myself the chance to second guess myself. At 5:30, I shut off the computer, packed up and walked down the street.

I'm going to be sore sore sore tomorrow. But it felt like coming home. My practice has declined a lot - poses that used to be a cake walk I struggled with. But they felt good and they felt right. And, during Sivasana, I found that brief, clear, moment of stillness. Namaste!

Lessons Learned and Learning Lessons

Last night, YogaGirl called. She was technically calling me back about my anxiety over my new hire starting Monday. I hadn't slept a wink and dream land wasn't looking too promising. Fuck, it was the first time I'd managed someone, I don't have my MBA and I've been fucked over enough to know that a bad manager can screw an impressionable mind for a good long time.

I wound up listening to about 45 minutes of YogaGirl going off about her partner. Usually, she's really balanced about this stuff: "I have stuff to share, but you need me to listen to you, so go...' But last night she clearly had a lot of stuff to get off her chest. And, as a friend, I listened to it, openly and honestly.

And then I told her the cold, hard truth. I'd been listening to this same complaint for three years. And if I had a tape recorder, she would not sound like a woman in love. She would sound like a bitter, jaded old married woman. Relationships are hard, but they shouldn't be this hard. After three months of the same old argument - damn! shit or get off the pot.

And then tonight, I called her about my stress with GoodBuddy. He's been in a rough place rfecently, and really needing my validation. But our conversations tend to go like this: "Him. Him. Him. Him. Gotta Go, Bye,"

In case you haven't noticed, I've had a lot going on myself. On the road to recovery from bi-polar disorder. Managing a person, which essentially mean forming a department. Learning how to deal healthfully with CBL. Navigating the possibility of moving to London, Not to mention the big one ---- Re-integrating with the world around me.

And through all of this, GoodBuddy was for all intents and purposed MIA. He did a fair bit of apologizing and making amends tonight when I finally got him on the phone.

But still I realized an important truth when YogaGirl said this, "I know you had the best intentions when you told me this, and so I trust you will understand it when I say: "I've been hearing the same complaint over and over. Girlfriend, shit or get off the pot."

I know she's right. I know I'm right. But there is a large gap between knowing and acting. And that gap is called fear of being alone.

Spring is springing - or at least gusting

It's turn the clocks ahead one hour night. I usually hate this night. Because, while I love me some daylight, I also love me some sleep. When I was growing up as a kid, my dad and I had an inside joke. He would come to wake me up five minutes before I needed to get up. And when he did, I'd always beg for "magic minutes." Which was the low-tech version of the snooze alarm. But that's how much sleep meant to me - magic.

Now I'm older. But I still love sleep. And now that I've started having amazingly vivid dreams if and when I do sleep, I like it that much more.

But tonight, it seems that's not gonna happen. I've watched a movie, listened to old 80s tunes, cooked up some veggies that were about to spoil and even caught up on some overdue email. nd yet, here it is, almost 6 (but really five) and I'm wide awake wilson.

My new hire starts on Monday and I really must be on my A Game for that. Especially given all the specialness that has ensued and will likely continue to ensue over the coming weeks. So an all-nighter wasn't really in the cards. But, I guess you play the cards as the Universe deals them.

Did have a really solid interaction with the roommate though tonight. I think the problem is that 1) neither of us seems to be really good with confrontation and 2) we're both feeling a bit awkward about where we are in our lives. I'm in a period of recover after a massively long bout with all sorts of notwellness. Although I still have a long way to go - and not stopping at Kappys on the way home was a step in the right direction! - I see the light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. I can't speak for him, having little to no knowledg of his life or habits, much less his inner turmoil. But I suspect he's also dealing with some stuff. So maybe - and now's probably not the time to reach a hard and fast conclusion - but maybe it's worth he and I sitting down and having an actual conversation. Otherwise, the awkwardness might fester. And that's never a good thing...

Anyway, I digress. The topic at hand was sleep - or the lack thereof. I really really want to get some quality R&R. But how do you turn off the brain when it's churning like this? It's not like I'm suffering under any delusion that getting work done at 6 am on a Sunday will be of a high calibre. So, perhaps, I take a few deep breaths. Break out my notepad and make a PLAN for the work I'm going to accomplish tomorrow.

Once the Ambien wears off. If it ever kicks in.

Sheesh - this stuff killed Heath Ledger and it doesn't even touch me. I've either got way too much Anna's Taqueria Super Grlled Veggie in my system or I'm Batman. What do you think?