Tuesday, July 27, 2010

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?


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...

Sunday, July 25, 2010

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):


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?

Saturday, July 10, 2010

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.

Tuesday, July 06, 2010


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.