I have a new tenant, Ramblings of Fyre. This blog is a great collection of cool musings and unique items the author has come across on the web (she’s coy and doesn’t list her name lol), like jewelry made out of plastic body parts — what’s up with that? — plus her blog just looks really cool. Oh, and she quit smoking two weeks ago! Anyway, check out her blog — the link is over to the right!
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Mark met some of my closest friends last night. The occasion was my employer’s annual par-tay; it’s a big event, held at a hotel, so I hosted my second-annual “pre-party,” complete with cocktails and hors d’oeuvres. I had about 12 people over and it turned out to be a lot of fun.
Mark was very quiet while everyone was at my place. I think part of it was that we were talking about people he didn’t know coupled his with shyness and his hearing loss. But once we got to the party itself he started to warm up and was cracking jokes; I think it helped that we were then in a smaller group. One lecherous exec who works on my floor saw Mark and actually said, “And who is this???” I’m sure I’ll hear more about it from her tomorrow at the office. Bi-atch.
We left the party about 10 p.m. and ended up seeing “Looking for Comedy in the Muslim World” with Albert Brooks. It had some funny parts but, overall, I was disappointed. This morning we went out for breakfast — one thing I miss about Michigan is all of the mom-and-pop restaurants there. I love coney islands, little places where you can get cheap food. Where I live, if it’s not a chain restaurant, it ain’t here. I’m sure there are locally owned places, I just don’t know where they are. Spending $18 + tip at Bob Evan’s just doesn’t seem worth it.
On another topic, I’m trying to understand how men express emotion. I’m used to dealing with my ex, whom I was with for 8 years, and could see the things that he would do to show that he cared. Now I feel like I’m learning a second language. Mark is a do-er. Like today, my garage door opener wasn’t working — because I, um, hit one of the guides — and he hopped out of the car and realigned it. Of course I would love to be told every day how fabulous I am and how much he cares for me, but I also know how difficult it is for me to express emotion and, as a woman, I’m socialized to do so. I’m not sure how men, who are told to hide their feelings from such an early age, do it. I’m trying to look for the more subtle clues, like how he takes my hand or puts his arm around me, or the way he tenderly kisses my forehead. Today we were napping, with me lying with my head on his chest and he had his arm around me. I told him that I had missed being with him like this and sharing a bed with him … he smiled and pulled me closer. I’ll take it …
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I grew up in the Detroit area. Of course, my dad was like the only person in the metro area who did NOT work for an auto company, thus denying me any sweet discounts. My grandfathers both worked for one of the Big Three (mom’s dad was a blue-collar Chrysler employee, dad’s dad was a white-collar Ford manager). In the 80s, minivans were everywhere. I hated them. I thought they were stupid and ugly. (Mind you, my mother drove a VW Rabbit and I STILL thought minivans were worse.) THREE families on my street drove tan Ford Aerostars, all with the same lame-ass dark brown striping. There even was a MAUVE minivan in my neighborhood.
It was with great glee that I read that Ford may cease production of minivans. Are minivans even relevant? When was the last time you saw a new one? All of the soccer moms drive SUVs anyway. Hell, I’m not a soccer mom (or even a mom) and I drive a flippin’ SUV.
I’m not sure why minivans irritate me. Maybe because they represent the domestic stability I never knew — apparently drunks prefer BMWs — and still haven’t experienced. The thought of being a mother makes me want to hyperventilate. Like, last night I forgot to give my cats dinner (fortunately, at 17 and 13 lbs., they are not going to starve). My dissing of the minivans hides, apparently, a deep longing for what they represent. Wow, something else to discuss with my therapist. ; )
In other news, here’s some irony for you. Apparently our government is claiming Venezuela is overspending on their military. Wow. Read about it here.
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Go out with Brian, that is.
It’s mostly guilt, with a little bit of allergies thrown in (dry red eyes, runny nose). But mostly guilt.
What it came down to is that I would be hurt if Mark was going out with someone else. I am new to the dating-again scene, esp. dating someone more than twice, so I don’t know what the “rules” are … our commitment if fuzzy at best, but I keep thinking back to the conversation we had about three weeks in, when he asked if we were boyfriend and girlfriend, and I kind of (okay, really) panicked. Then later I asked him if he was seeing anyone else and he said no. We haven’t talked about it since, although he has referred to me as his girlfriend.
The guilt also came into play because Brian seems like a guy I would really like. And I don’t want to jerk him around, going out with him only because I’m feeling confused about Mark. So I need to clear the air with Mark on Saturday/Sunday, see if I’m still feeling ambivalent and go on from there.
Oh … in an example of my further confusion, I sent Mark another handwritten note after our last phone conversation, when he was upset that his favorite patient was dying. The note simply said, “I like hearing about your work. You have so much strength and compassion. You amaze me. — M.” I mailed it yesterday morning so he should get it today.
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Another date.
To summarize: I don’t know where things are going with Mark. I don’t know where I want things to go with Mark. I don’t even know if I want them to go anywhere.
I realized last night that three of the last four times I’ve talked to him, he’s been doing something else. Last Wednesday, he was looking for his wallet. Friday, he was driving to the southern part of the state. Monday, he was installing a game on his PC. And these are all times HE has called ME! I am a sensitive girl, but I don’t think it’s much of a stress to feel like I’m not a priority. True, I haven’t seen him since the 8th, and true, sometimes people have different opinions on how much communication is necessary in between dates. But come on! Don’t f-ing call me if you have something else you’d rather be doing!
About a week ago, this guy Brian “wink”-ed at me through match.com. I ignored it, mainly because he identified himself as “very conservative” and he has a son. He e-mailed me last night, complimenting me on my smile — thank you, four years of orthodontic work! — so I decided to e-mail him back. After I compliment him on his cute self, I flat out said I had concerns, (a) I’m a liberal Michigan girl who would vote for Bill Clinton again and again if I could and (b) he has a child, I have cats.
He replied, that he’s conservative financially, in terms of taxation and what this country spends our money on. Socially, he’s pretty open. He said enough to convince me, so we kept on e-mailing. He did send me one message specifically asking how many cats I have, which made me laugh (I have two). After a few messages he sent me his phone number. I took a big swig of my favorite french vanilla-flavored liquor and took the plunge …
We were on the phone for more than 90 minutes! And the call started at 10:37 p.m. He’s very outgoing, funny, smart, interesting and asked me a ton of questions. He asked me to have dinner with him, so we’re meeting up Friday after work. As a result, I am now taking Friday afternoon off to do the prep work for my Saturday-night cocktail party (to which Mark is invited) that I was going to do Friday night. Brian was too entertaining to pass up, though.
Maybe a date with someone else will give me perspective. Maybe seeing Mark again will clear things up for me on Saturday.
My friend, who is a member of NA/AA, told me that one of the things they teach in the program is to sometimes do the opposite of what your instincts are telling you to do. Makes sense, considering “instinct” has led addicts into some undesirable situations. I’m not an addict, but my dad is (sober nearly 20 years) so I have a lot of faith in AA. My instincts are telling me to cut and run when it comes to Mark, that it will be too much work emotionally and too “messy” to sort things out with him, that if it’s this difficult now, how will it be in six months or a year?
Hell if I know what to do.
Actually I do know. I’m going to call Mark tonight. I’m going to tell him that I miss him, because I do. I’m going to tell him I’m looking forward to seeing him on Saturday, because I am.
If I go out with Brian and want to see him again, I’ll tell him that I’m dating, i.e. there are other guys in the picture. And then I’ll figure out what to tell Mark. But I’m not going to cross that bridge until (a) I actually meet Brian and (b) Mark and I have a chance to talk about the letter that I sent him.
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Later … So I called Mark tonight and we talked for a while. He was upset b/c his favorite patient is dying. It amazed me that he actually has to deal with death on a regular basis at work. I sit at a computer all day, spend more time socializing than I should, and hope that I don’t make an error putting together my training materials. He asked again about my cocktail party on Saturday, which is a prelude to my annual work soiree; I thanked him for being such a good sport and he said he was really looking forward to it. He sounded genuine. I mentioned that my ex may be at the party but it wouldn’t be a big deal, blah blah blah, and he said, without any trace of sarcasm/jealousy/negativity that he’d like to be introduced to Josh if the chance arose. I was actually surprised at his maturity about the whole thing.
At the end of the conversation, I said, “I miss you, you know …” and he said he missed me too. He said, “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? … We have to not do that again …”
Then I felt like a bitch for making plans with Brian, who left me a very nice VM today while I was at work. So I turned my phone off. But if everything was okay with Mark, I wouldn’t have been interested in anyone else.
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I’m so excited — soon I’ll have a new design for my blog!
Good-bye, boring black … hello, something fabulously Monique-ish!
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I was home today so, of course, I watched “Maury.” And, of course, it was a paternity episode. This woman — whose man, of course, fathered her two children — named her older son Kemauri after Maury.
Wow.
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While you’re here, check out my renter, Pile of Dog Bones. It’s good readin’!
I participated in a workshop yesterday designed to help me set goals for 2006 and “unstick” myself from whatever is in my way of achieving these goals. I usually am not comfortable with a lot of emotional stuff (shock) but this was very well done.
Here are my intentions for 2006:
Physical Health
Emotional Health
Professional
Pleasure/Leisure
Relationships
Spiritual
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I heard this song this morning. It’s what I want, for someone to have a little faith in me …
“Have a Little Faith in Me” by John Hiatt
When the road gets dark
And you can no longer see
Just let my love throw a spark
And have a little faith in me
And when the tears you cry
Are all you can believe
Just give these loving arms a try
And have a little faith in me
And
refrain:
Have a little faith in me
Have a little faith in me
Have a little faith in me
Have a little faith in me
When your secret heart
Cannot speak so easily
Come here darlin’
From a whisper start
To have a little faith in me
And when your back’s against the wall
Just turn around and you will see
I will catch, I will catch your fall baby
Just have a little faith in me
refrain
Well, I’ve been loving you for such a long time girl
Expecting nothing in return
Just for you to have a little faith in me
You see time, time is our friend
‘Cause for us there is no end
And all you gotta do is have a little faith in me
I said I will hold you up, I will hold you up
Your love gives me strength enough
So have a little faith in me
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All of the cool kids were doing it, so I decided to rent my blog as well.
My very first renter is the wonderful Dave (aka New York City’s Watchdog) over at Pile of Dog Bones. I’m not sure how we stumbled across each other’s blogs, but I check in on his daily and he has me listed under his “daily reads” so I’m guessing he does the same. : ) Anyway, if you like my blog, which I know you do!, please read Dave’s too. It’s a sometimes-funny, sometimes-melancholy, always-honest look at life in New York. The link is over on the right, underneath my profile. Oh yeah, the man’s an EMT so give him his props for doing a job that actually makes a difference!
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