The Virginity Monologues

Sometimes I feel so full of love, It just comes spilling out

2009-06-21T11:01:00.002-04:00

There moments in life that I want to always remember.

1. Riding home in the taxi from JFK with my BFF after our trip to Barcelona. We'd just spent 3 of the loveliest days of our lives, and were the picture of complete contentment, as we sat in the back of that cab, the sun shining, the windows down and the wind blowing in our faces. Remembering the completely amazing experiences we had just had, the 2 very best of friends. As happy as 2 people could possibly be.

2. Sitting under a tent at a wedding yesterday. The wedding of 2 people who are completely deserving of all the joy and happiness that life could possibly offer. Lightly buzzed on wine and the glow of being surrounded by people that I love. One such person, whom I adore and admire tremendously, stood next to me, running her fingers across my face and down my arm. I smiled up at her and she smiled down at me.

"Your eyebrows are perfect," she said.

"Pinky's on 6th and 39th. $6 for the best eyebrow threading in the city."

And I closed my eyes again. Content.

3. Harnessed into one of the fastest and tallest roller coasters in the world. Scared out of my mind. I reach my hand out to my friend in the seat next to me. While we wait to be "launched", she squeezes my hand tight. She didn't want to go on this roller caoster, but it the one roller coaster that I had wanted to do the most. Off we went. Faster than I was expecting (turns out, it goes 128 mph) and we screamed our way through the next 30 seconds. So much so that by the time we pulled into the building where we got off the car, my eyes were bloodshot! She turned to me, and gasped, "honey, are you ok?"

I nodded. Still reeling from the adrenaline thrill that we had just experienced.

And I knew I was sitting next to one of the truest friends I will ever have.

Life..... is great.

Today's title from: Wonderful World by James Morrison

Still Here

2009-06-12T20:29:00.000-04:00

I type in the words- gucci, fendi, miu miu. I'm working on shoes and handbags. I'm wishing that all I had to think about is shoes and handbags. But instead, I think about the friend that just asked me what i would do.

I would leave. I tell her. I feel strongly about abuse. And I have promised myself that I would never stay with a man that hit me.

Its an issue that is way beyond my maturity level. I want to make jokes. I want to escape to handbags and shoes.

I say the wrong things. I'm awkward and uncomfortable. With no real relationship experience under my belt, everything that i think and feel and say feels trite and cliche.

I want to make her happy, for even an hour or a minute. I want to do anything i can to lessen her burden. To make things easier for her. No amount of money seems too big, no effort too insurmountable. Just to make her laugh.

Everything comes out wrong.

Last night, after I flipped the guy off that was honking at me while I retrieved my coat from the cab, he called me a "fat cunt."

Then I came inside to an email from someone who is not my friend anymore, telling me that she can't be my friend because i'm too mean.

I've got no crush. No one in my black book. No one on the back burner. Even Mr. 11 won't return my text messages for reasons completely unknown.

Life... isn't great.

2009-05-13T02:03:00.002-04:00

"You don't write in your blog anymore," she said to me.

I know. I don't have the heart for it anymore. I've been at this for 5 years and although I may have lost my virginity, I haven't ever even come close to finding love. All I have to show for my years of self-discovery is a very long list of douchebags. Everytime I write about another one, it increases my cynicism and lack of hope. I'm tired of meeting someone new, and getting excited about it, then 2 weeks later have to figure out what I did wrong to ruin it.

I'm still here. I'm still alive. I'm still struggling with my weight. I'm still meeting douchebags, although I'd like to think that I'm weeding them out sooner and with less drama.

And trying to find anything you can feel that you can believe in

2009-04-13T23:35:00.001-04:00

I knew you were there before I arrived, as my friend texted me to inform me she had purposefully placed herself at the bar, since my 'boy toy' was bartending that night. So, I bustled through the door in a hurry prepared to flirt with you unsuccessfully.

Imagine my surprise, when you said to me as I bellied up to the bar, "hey! you been running in the park lately?"

See, we talked once before on a quiet sunday morning, while I waited for my perpetually late friend for brunch. In my senses guided exclusively by low self-esteem, I figured you had only talked so much to me that morning because I was the only person at the bar, and I look like I tip well (I do. Its one of my things).

But, after assessing from Betsy that she had not fore-warned you of the imminent arrival of her friend-who-goes-running-in-the-park, I realized that you remembered me and almost all of the things that we had talked about. I can't lie- my heart skipped a beat. Over the course of the evening, you came across as genuinely interested in me. Everytime you made a drink, you made some extra and poured it into a glass for me. You would laugh at my stories to Betsy about the insanity of my life and asked me about the dinner I had just come from. As Betsy and I talked about our favorite bar, you asked if you could join us sometime. Then, while I regaled Betsy with a hilarious story involving a 'buddy' incident in my boot camp class, you but in saying, "I love the way you tell stories. Its so vivid and I can imagine everything in my head."

And by the end of the night, you were calling me 'baby', which made me blush right down to my toes.

Betsy and I stayed until you closed the bar and a friend of yours came to meet you to go out for drinks and invited us along. We made our way to another bar in Harlem, and you proceeded to ignore me the rest of the night, until you hugged me when I left and asked why I was leaving so soon.

And now, I can't stop thinking about you. Betsy keeps telling me I just have to keep planting seeds.

UGH.

Today's Title from: In the Sun by Joseph Arthur

I figured it out, I can see again

2009-03-29T22:28:00.004-04:00

Today, I may have seen my most favorite picture ever taken of me. I'm at an engagement party, on a couch, surrounded by amazing friends. I'm laughing at something beyond the camera. And I look happy- down to my soul. And beautiful. This picture makes it very clear to me that the stupid, stupid boy who stood me up for Date 4 (4!!!) last night is missing out on something amazing (p.s. thanks to my New Waiting to Sleep With Guys philosophy, I hadn't slept with this guy yet, and I'm SOOOO fucking glad.)

And I'm not upset or depressed or feeling horrible about myself at all. I didn't waste one minute of my day pining for someone who doesn't deserve me. I went running in the park, I cleaned my apartment with my best friend in the whole wide world, then I went to a boot camp class, then I had dinner with Betsy, one of the most amazing friends I've ever had.

As I sat across from Betsy, I found myself talking about how having a relationship would really fuck up my life. How it would take away from all the things that I LOVE about my life now- the time I spend with my friends and my gym time and my nights of doing whatever the hell I want to do with whoever I want to do it with.

And I realized that it's time to stop bitching about being alone. Because really- alone is the last thing I am.

Today's Title from: So Here We Are by Bloc Party

I am what I am doctor, you ain't gotta love me

2009-03-24T21:56:00.002-04:00

I am finally on the mend from being stupidly sick and being really stupid about getting enough rest to recover. When I should have been home sleeping all weekend, I was running around like a crazy person to boot camp classes, brunches, parties, dinners and drinks.

I've been in a funk and I know I've been in a funk, so I've been working on keeping myself so busy I can't dwell on my funk. And hoping that surrounding myself often enough with the people that I care about will get me OUT of my funk. All of my endeavors appears to be working. I've found my smile again (shit- could I BE a worse cliche?) and I no longer derive a great deal of satisfaction from wickedly depressing music.

The best parts about the last few weeks of my life:

1. An R.E.M. tribute concert and after party, where I stalked Glen Hansard (in the band The Frames and starred in the movie Once and won an oscar for the song he wrote for it) like a crazy person until he agreed to take a picture with me. After taking the picture, realized his hand was on my boob for the picture. Best picture EVER!

2. Finishing the boot camp class on Sunday where I worked out SO hard that I almost threw up.

3. Ana's engagement party on Saturday night, where I spent a large portion of the evening cuddling with friends on a couch and kissing just about everyone who sat down next to me.

4. Talking to a gentleman one evening that I have been very minimally involved with (all involvement occured under the strong influence of alcohol and when sober, I find him to be mildly repulsive) while he texted another female in his life, whom he admitted to 'playing'. I commended him for being such a fine, upstanding man (sarcastically, of course) and he assured me he would never play this game with me.

"Oh really! Why is that?" I asked him.

"Because you'd just tell me to fuck off and then never see me again," he said.

BEST compliment I've ever been paid.

5. The news of a possible visit in 2 weeks from Mr. 11, who continues to be one of the better things that's happened to me in a long time. I heart him.

6. The realization that I have amazing, amazing friends, that I can admit really fucked up shit to and they will talk me out of my moment of pure crazy and still love me on the other side.

Today's Title from: Forest Whitaker by Brother Ali

You just might find, you get what you need

2009-03-08T16:52:00.002-04:00

Its been quite a week. My days swing violently from good to bad and I live in almost constant fear of losing my job as each successive person around me gets laid off. The continual praise from my boss comforts me, as does knowledge that I am almost the lowest paid person on my floor and doing 3 people's job successfully.

Even my life outside of work seems high on the drama with great dates and subsequent disappointment when he doesn't call, ubiqutious arguments over dinners, therapy, OA meetings and an almost complete inability to make sense of anything, or enough time to spend time with the people that I want to spend time with and an overwhelming desire to just be home on my couch, eating pizza and drinking wine.

I'm not depressed. I'm in a funk. I feel less than hopeful about my romantic future. With each successive disappointment, its hard to believe that anything real will ever happen for me or that I will ever actually be in love.

The good news is, BFF and I have booked tickets to go to Barcelona for memorial day weekend. We'll be there for 3 full days and it feels amazing to have to something so exciting to look forward to. Its over 2 months away and I've already got the basic geography of the city figured out, cause I'm a nutjob like that. If anyone has traveled there and has suggestions, please feel free to let me know!

Today's Title from: You Can't Always Get What You Want by The Rolling Stones

And we don't, we don't want nothing but joy

2009-02-23T20:27:00.003-05:00

There's still too many men. And not enough interest on my part. I want to be alone, so I head home after work. I put on my best face that demands to be left alone, my earphones in and do my best not to meet anyone's eyes.

I think about the very sweet and kind boy with waist length dreads, who I've been on enough dates to sleep with, but who doesn't seem to have any friends or much passion for life and is terrible in bed.

I think about the boy I recently met with the finest pair of abs I've ever seen a picture of, who shares my sexual excitement for the gentle purr of a Porsche engine, with a meaningful, selfless career and a continued desire for higher education and I can't seem to summon a great deal of enthusiasm for our sharpied-in date for next Wednesday.

I reflect on the date I had last Saturday night with a beautiful pair of biceps, attached to a pretty face, not much of a brain and a staggeringly inept ability to kiss.

Then, I think about the text message that came in this afternoon from the Mr. 11, who's still in Miami, but each week brings us closer to May, the time when he moves back to New York. I don't love him. I like him. He's smart, smarter than me and ambitious. He's always there at the other end of the phone, ready to assure me that he misses me or indulge me in a round of spectacularly dirty texting and has been known to count down the hours until we see each other again. He's always been good to me and he's someone beautiful who has no qualms in telling me over and over again how beautiful he thinks I am. And I wonder why this can't be enough for me long term. Are my expectations too high? Do I want too much???

Does my ideal combination of hot, funny, smart, clever, witty, tender and loving exist? If not, what can I compromise on? I'm okay without tender. I don't actually need tender. In fact, sometimes, I find tender to be nauseating and silly. And okay, so Mr. 11 isn't exactly gut-bustingly funny. But that's what my martini nights with Email Boy are for. Nights when we get falling-down drunk, draw graphs on napkins about our levels of drunkeness, then consider taking home chairs in large trash piles on the street that may or may not have been covered in poo then make the other person smell our hand to make sure it's doesn't smell like poo.

Maybe one man isn't enough on his own. Maybe I will need Email Boy to be a part of my life forever, to fill in the cracks. :)

Today's Title from: Cigarettes and Coffee by Otis Redding

Perhaps fuck off, might be too kind

2009-02-22T15:17:00.002-05:00

Okay, gentlemen of this world. I want to convey a piece of advice to all of you that is becoming increasingly clear to me that all of you desperately need.

When you are newly involved with a female in any sort of non-platonic situation- whether it be romantic or sexual or any sort of mixture of the two, DO NOT talk about other women. Do not constantly refer to your ex and her weird habits. Do not talk about how you have an asian fetish and how you previously wanted to date the girl's very good friend who happens to be asian. Don't tell her about the girl that is in love with you and wants to have your babies. Do not tell your fuck buddy about the girl that you've always been in love with. Don't mention the lunch that you just had with the belly dancer.

Regardless of how serious or not-serious the nature of your relationship is, is disrespectful and inappropriate. I don't understand why this is such a difficult concept and why it is becoming more and more prevalent.

Got it???

Today's Title from: Do Me a Favour by Artic Monkeys

I've given all I can, It's not enough

2009-02-16T22:25:00.002-05:00

I got a comment- wondering what's going on, where have I been?

I'm still here. Still in the exact same place that I always have been and always will be. Alone. My taste in men may be improving, but I am still repelling them with the same expediency. I'm tired of writing about the false starts and the constant over-analysis. I want to start handling my relationships like a woman instead of a 13 year old girl.

I still run. I still work out. I still hate myself because I can't seem to get a handle on my eating. I've been battling the same 10 pounds for about 6 months now and it infuriates me endlessly. Food is winning in this battle, despite reading book after book and delving about as deep into my psyche as I can. I need something greater than myself and I'm not 100% sure where to find it.

Work has become a source of constant stress for me. Layoffs have been plentiful and although somehow managing to dodge that bullet, my workload has increased 1o times over and there is always the threat of losing my job looming over my head. I'm overwhelmed before I ever walk in the door in the morning and I hate that feeling.

How are all of you? Surviving?

Today's Title from: Karma Police by Radiohead

It’s synchronicity and raw, And this is what I came here for

2009-01-25T18:06:00.004-05:00

Well, my 31st birthday may go down in my personal history as one of my best birthdays of my entire life.

There was dinner on my actual birthday with my favorite people.

There was the weekend in Miami, which left me sexually satisfied for 2 full weeks.

There was a night at the symphony with Spatch, where she introduced me to something else to be passionate about.

There was a night at a spa with Ana, where we were scrubbed raw by funny little women then massaged, then she introduced me to her favorite korean restaurant.

There's been drinks with co-workers.

And the best part is, I haven't been at all upset about getting another year older. I'm so much happier with my life and where I'm at now than I was at 30, that I don't care that I have to add another year to my age.
_______________________________________________________________

Betsy and I walked into our favorite bar to hang out at on Friday night, planning to get a few drinks before we finished the night out. Cory was at the bar. And he saw us before we could turn around and leave. We said hi briefly then went to join our other friends at the bar. After our friends left, Cory came and sat down next to me and we talked for a few hours.

After he left, he texted me telling me its always good to see me. We went back and forth a little when he sent me a text that made it VERY clear that he was interested in me. I was confused, but decided to see where this was going to go. We made plans to hang out Saturday night at my place.

He showed up at 8:30 with a bottle of wine. We ordered take out and talked for hours. I asked him if he still wanted to date Betsy. No, he didn't. Did he like me? Yes, he did. I told him I wasn't going to have sex with him that night and that I wasn't interested in a purely physical relationship, so if this was going to be a problem, then maybe we shouldn't keep seeing each other.

I've never had a man be more respectful of me, in my life. He stayed until around 2:30 am, not kissing me until the last 5 minutes that he was there.

Where is this going to go? I don't know. But I'm pretty excited to find out.

Today's Title from: So Far To Go by Common

I just want something I can never have

2009-01-19T17:11:00.003-05:00

Is there anything, more painful, than sitting across a table from your crush, the man you've been talking to on the phone for hours, and thinking that maybe, just maybe, it could finally be your turn, and hearing him tell you that he has to be honest with you and tell you, that he's been hoping to date your friend?

I think not.

If only I was skinny, you think to yourself. So you go to the gym, you punish yourself. You berate yourself for being so stupid as to believe that this one could actually like you. I mean, really, have you seen Betsy? She's tiny and charming as hell. Just what the fuck were you thinking?

And then, when you're having lunch with Betsy after the gym, cause she's one of your best friends, she tells you that she think's you're smart and wonderful and beautiful and she apologizes profusely, even though its not her fault.

You feel small and silly and pathetic. And you wonder how much more its going to take for you to finally learn your lesson and just stop hoping.

Today's Title from: Something I Can Never Have by Nine Inch Nails

It's just a moment, this time will pass

2009-01-17T09:20:00.000-05:00

I am a girl with an emotional attachment to food. Who, when the shit hit the fan in the Chicago airport over Christmas, I marched myself into McDonalds, got myself a McGriddle and didn't look back. Ever since then, its been a vicious cycle of eating badly, beating myself up about eating badly, then eating to make myself feel better from beating myself up and over and over again.

To the tune of an 8 pound weight gain, which I discovered when I finally gained the courage to go back to Weight Watchers today and step on that bloody scale.

I cried in the meeting when the Leader talked about how we need to learn to stop using food to take care of ourselves and that its not about willpower, but just about learning new skills and that beating yourself up never made anything better.

And so, at 1 lb away from being back at a number that I wanted to avoid for the rest of my life- I've got to get my ass in gear. I cannot give up. It is not even an option. And I cannot let myself gain another pound. That is also not an option.

I would also like you all to know that I am amazing and totally loveable. (If I say it enough, I'll believe it, right?)

Today's Title from: Stuck in a Moment by U2

See, I know my destination, I'm just not there

2009-01-13T22:47:00.001-05:00

As we drove under the sign announcing that we had arrived at Miami International Airport, my heart broke a little. I would have to remove my flips flops and start wearing a scarf again shortly. It was unfair and it was much too soon.

The 2 days could not have been more perfect. We slept. We ate. We had incredible, off the charts sex. He showed me South Beach and what its like to have an orgasm on a pool table. He took bubble baths with me and never talked on his phone. He let me do all of the stupid shit I wanted to do (drive past Miami Ink!) and let me sleep in before attacking me in the mornings.

I remembered the reasons I had been glad that there had always been a time limit on our relationship. He has many wonderful qualitities, has never treated me badly, is unbelievably gorgeous and we obviously have a very strong physical connection, but there is something missing in what I feel for him. He bores me a little and I don't feel like jumping out of my skin with excitement when I'm sitting across from him at a table. There's a spark that's missing. A spark that I am confident that I can feel, because I feel it for someone else.

His name is Cory. I met him one night about a month ago when I walked into a bar with my friend, Betsy. He was sitting at the bar and it turns out, knows Betsy from when they lived on the same block. I ended up sitting next to him, and we talked for hours. We exchanged numbers at the end of the night and I was surprised to get a text from him the next morning. He very obviously has an incredibly poetic soul and is a true romantic at heart.

As I've gotten to know him better, I've discovered that Cory is the kind of guy you marry. Out of all the hours that we have talked at this point, he's never said anything even remotely inappropriate. It's been about truly learning about the other person. He asks me questions about my training and about how I feel about religion and the details that inevitably are so much more important than sexual compatibility.

We haven't gone on a date. We've only hung out with other friends a few times, and at the end of one of those nights, I got a kiss on the cheek that somehow managed to capture some lips in there too. Our whole exchange has been sweet and innocent. And I absolutely adore him. I think about him often and his smile makes my heart race.

Today's Title from: Street Lights by Kanye West

Today

2009-01-08T11:58:00.001-05:00

Is my Birthday!

Hating the shit outta ohio

2009-01-06T22:09:00.002-05:00

I'm not going to lie to you, I'm in a bad fucking mood.

Mostly because I DO NOT want to be in Ohio anymore. I was here in Cincinnati for 2 days last week and 3 days this week. I'm heading back to New York tomorrow (THANK GOD), but the weather forecast is snow, snow and more snow for tomorrow. And I have to make a connection in Philadelphia and chances look pretty damn good that I'm going to miss that connection. FANTASTIC. Luckily, the good news about Philly is that if I can't get out on a plane to New York? I can take a god damn train.

Normally I wouldn't be so crazy about getting back to New York. But I have a few good reasons.
1. After my experiences over Christmas, I can't think of anything worse than being stuck in an airport again.
2. Thursday is my birthday. I want to be home for my birthday.
3. Friday, I leave for Miami. I'm not particularly keen on ANYTHING jeopardizing that trip. Especially since I just endured unspeakable pain to get my legs waxed, which was actually a gigantic waste of time, because despite growing it out for over 2 weeks, I've got stubble. And my legs are not nearly as smooth as I would like them to be. FANTASTIC.

By the time I get back from Miami, I will have been on 14 different flights since Dec. 22. I'm gonna need some quality non-flying time before I will ever get on a plane again after this. The upside is that I've gotten very, very good at packing an overnight bag.

New Years Resolutions

2009-01-02T15:04:00.002-05:00

I usually don't make New Year's resolutions, as I'm generally not great at keeping them. But I feel like my resolutions this year are important and keep-able, so here goes.

New Year's Resolutions 2009

1. Run a half-marathon. Probably in April or May. I'd like to lose about 10-15 more pounds before beginning the hard-core training, so that may change depending on how well the weight loss goes over the next few months.

2. Go on at least 3 dates with someone before I sleep with someone NEW. This means that any new man that I meet will have to take me out at least 3 times before he gets any hanky panky.

3. French fries are my biggest weakness. I'm committing to going completely without them for the month of January in an attempt to wean myself off them.

4. Lose 30 more pounds.

5. Learn to love myself.

Christmas Travel

2009-01-02T14:59:00.000-05:00

Originally written on Dec. 27th-

So, traveling this Christmas has been very possibly the worst experience of my life. Which is saying something, when you consider that I had a week long hospital stay within the last year of my life.

Getting from New York to Hometown was BAD. Here's the rundown.

Flight out of LaGuardia was delayed for 3 hours and as a result, I sprinted out of that plane in O'hare only to watch my connecting flight pull away from the gate. It was the last flight from Chicago to Hometown on all airlines for the night. AWESOME. I waited in the United Customer Service line for 3 hours and walked away at 1 am, with a hotel voucher, a confirmed flight from Denver to Hometown and a hope and a prayer that I could get on one of the flights from Chicago to Denver the next day in time to catch the flight to Hometown.

I spent 3 measly hours in that hotel room before I had to catch a shuttle back to O'Hare to fly standby on the first flight to Denver the next morning. That flight was delayed 2 hours, but I made it on. I got to Denver 6 hours before my confirmed flight, so I went and begged to get on an earlier flight and through the grace of God, made it onto that one also. I arrived in Hometown 26 hours after I had begun traveling. I had cried a lot and slept very little.

I spent 3 lovely days at home with my family. Then boarded a flight out of Hometown this morning to head back to New York. As I landed in Chicago (FUCKING Chicago!), I turned on my phone to find 3 voicemails letting my know that my flight from O'Hare to LaGuardia had been cancelled. That's right.

Cancelled.

I stood in that damned customer service line for 2.5 more hours. Got myself on standy on a flight to Newark, which I have subsequently been assigned a seat on and has been delayed for 2 hours due to weather in Chicago. In the meantime, my bag has probably landed at LaGuardia and is circling the baggage claim. Fan-Fucking-Tastic!!!

Miss You Most

2009-01-02T00:41:00.004-05:00

I'm sad as I make my way home. I'm sad because I've been talking about you. I've been referring to you as The Love of My Life, which is still true.

I looked at your picture tonight. The one of you and me on my birthday a few years ago. We are happy and smiling and I remember how ecstatic I was to have you there. My friend looks at your picture and deems you 'beautiful', and I remember being in awe of your physical perfection, but knowing that the person underneath is even more beautiful. Beautifully sweet and sensitive, with a heart of gold.

I miss your friendship and our dirty, flirty text messages. I miss being in your presence and finding silly reasons to touch each other. I miss the overhwelming need I felt to take care of you, to want to do anything in my power just to make you happy. I miss the anticipation of seeing you and what part of each experience would linger in my memory, that I would later re-live in intricate detail over and over in my mind. I don't crave the underwhelming passion of the final culmination of our 2 year trajectory. But I miss loving you and all the heartache that came with it.

My sign is vital, and my hands are cold

2008-12-18T22:02:00.002-05:00

So, again, I've started about hundreds of posts but haven't finished any of them. Mostly, because I don't know what to talk about.

Do I talk about my 8 mile run on Sunday? The best run of my life to date and how somewhere between mile 5 and 6, I hit the highest runners high I've ever hit? Mostly I was stunned that I was going to FINISH the 8 miles and I was pretty damn proud of myself for that. The problem is that I've been training- for a race that I was planning to run on Saturday. But the weather report for Saturday is VERY cold and snow. This is.... unsettling. I may not actually run the race, which is fine, since I "train" more for the sake of having a schedule to follow and not necessarily actually running the race. Eh. We'll see.

Do I talk about how, despite getting more and more comfortable in clothes that I never would have been comfortable in 40 pounds ago (i.e. leggings), all I see when I look in the mirror these days is FAT? My body image is terrible these days and all I want to do is work out endlessly to just stop the jiggle already. Except working out endlessly doesn't work well after a classes like the one I took on Saturday that was essentially a boot camp type of workout and I couldn't life my arms for days.

There's NO men to talk about, which is fine. I went on a bowling date, but never heard from him again after I continually refused to go home to Jersey with him. I met another guy at a club, but ended communication after he asked me, before ever even going on a date with him, if I "take it in the back door". WTF? It never fails to amaze me just how douchebaggy men truly can be.

Yeah, and that's about it. I'm in a weird place lately and really just want to be alone, a lot. If I could spend my entire life holed up in my room- I wouldn't complain. I figure its the holiday blues and other hormonal things. I'll be all right.

Today's Title from: Human by The Killers

Oh, baby, you'll freeze out there

2008-12-06T15:02:00.002-05:00

Dear Weather,

Let's talk. Now, I don't mind cold weather too much. I recently bought myself a new winter coat that is, well, its stellar. And its a size that I haven't been since I thought that beating boys at wrestling would make them like me, which is totally awesome. So, the cold weather isn't killing me on a daily basis, especially since its been mid-40's for a while. And that's bearable. But weath, you may have noticed that I run OUTSIDE. And I have already invested in lots of cold weather gear for running. Special running gloves. A running fleece. A special running hat with a slot for my pony-tail to go through- those peeps at Nike sure do think of everything, don't they? But, you've forced my hand. I'm going to have to go buy some special running pants. Why? Because it's going to be 35 degrees tomorrow. UGH! You're killing me! That's brutal! And do you know how painful that is on my tender lungs?

Now, you might be thinking that I should stop whinging (yes, that extra 'g' in there is intentional. Its a word that I stole from a british friend and I love it. If you don't like it, you can suck it) and maybe do my 7 miles required for my training on the treadmill. To which I respond- can you think of anything more unendurable than 7 miles on a treadmill? That's about an hour and a half of the most boring activity ever created. Due to rain, I did 6 miles on the treadmill a few weeks ago and that fucker ran out of time on me! I had to start it over! It pissed me off. Plus, I've gotten to the point in my training where I'll need to start consuming gu. Yes, gu. It's an energy fuel to help keep athletes from bonking. Yes, bonking. It's a technical term, look it up. And when running for longer than an hour, bonking is a danger. Can you imagine me eating a gu on a treadmill? I'll look like a moron. Seriously.

So. Lets get one thing clear, okay? Warm the hell up. At least 10 degrees.

Thanks-
Chloe
______________________________________________________________

Post Run Update:

Well, I ran the 7 miles. Okay, I'll be honest, around mile 6, I walked about a quarter mile cause I wanted to die, but I figure I can say I RAN 7 miles when I ran about 95% of it.

And Weather, you weren't so bad WHILE I was running, all of my special gear made the experience pretty damn bearable and sometimes I was too hot and had to take my gloves off. Oh and gu? DELICIOUS! It felt like I was eating chocolate mousse mid-run, and suddenly I felt like I should be running in gold-plated shoes.

It was the weather POST-run that practically killed me. Part of the problem is that my clothes were soaking wet with sweat. And that it was BRUTALLY cold. By the time I walked in my front door, I was cold all the way to the bone. I had to take a shower so hot that it practically melted my skin off.

So, while running in 35 degree weather isn't too horrible, I'm still going to need you to warm up so I don't die of hypothermia while getting home. Thanks.

Today's Title from: Baby It's Cold Outside- by about a million different people

You know I'm gonna try not to be so excited

2008-12-02T23:45:00.003-05:00

Hello, hello! I'm alive! I'm well! I've been busy!

For Thanksgiving, I went down to Atlanta with BFF and had one of the best trips of my life. We stayed with a friend who is like a brother to us, and we laughed constantly and danced and shopped and even drove to Savannah for a day, just to eat at Paula Deen's restaurant. TOTALLY worth it. It was a truly spectacular weekend.

I've got way more men in my life than a person should ever have. Quite frankly, I don't even know how I keep all of them straight. I have to be honest, I actually found a 'Jason' in my phone the other day and I have absolutely NO idea who it is. I'm not super crazy about any of them, which I'm all right with. It goes along fine with my new plan to just date more, instead of seeing every guy I meet as a potential boyfriend. Tomorrow is a bowling date, which I've got $50 riding on that I will kick his ass. He clearly doesn't understand that people from boring hometowns went bowling A LOT while they were growing up. Just wait until he gets a load of my wrist action. Muahahah.

In a few weeks, I go home to the bosom of my family for Christmas. My sister told me today that her adorable children have been asking her everyday if I'll be coming for Christmas. It warms me to the depths of my bitter New York heart to hear that they are so excited to see me.

Total weight loss to date: 40 pounds. I was feeling pretty content about where I was for a while there, but I just got a uploaded the pictures from Atlanta and seeing them- I'm NOT happy about where I'm at and have some renewed motivation.

But the BEST news is- I just bought a ticket. A ticket to Miami. A ticket to Miami to to see Mr. 11 for my birthday! It's 4 weeks away, so I may DIE of impatience in the meantime. But I've already got all sorts of plans for my first ever fuck-ation. 36 hours devoted almost exclusively to naked time with the hottest man I have ever met. It helps that he's texting me things like- 'I can't wait to see you.' You're jealous. You know it. Don't even try to deny it.

Today's Title from: Naked by Marques Houston

It's Christmas, All Over Again

2008-11-21T10:51:00.004-05:00

It's time for Christmas music! And I need some new stuff. I want everyone to comment and tell me your favorite Christmas songs. I love, love, love Christmas music and I will even listen to artists I regularly find distasteful (except Celine Dion- she's always out, regardless of time of year).

Some of the songs on my current heavy rotation are:

All I Want for Christmas is You: Mariah Carey (early Mariah is so much more bearable than the more recent Mariah)
Miss You Most: Mariah Carey
O Holy Night: Josh Groban
Santa Baby: Eartha Kitt
It's Christmas (Baby Please Come Home): U2
Last Christmas: Wham!
White Christmas: Otis Redding
Almost anything from the Harry Connick Jr. holiday CD's
Do They Know It's Christmas: Band-Aid
Baby It's Cold Outside: Dinah Shore
My Only Wish: Britney Spears (i know!)
Christmas Song: Dave Matthews Band
Grown-Up Christmas List: Michael Buble
And anything holiday by Stevie Wonder

Thanks!!!!

Today's Title from: Christmas All Over Again by Tom Petty

He makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, Just one touch

2008-11-17T11:09:00.005-05:00

As written on Saturday morning......

I didn’t want to get up this morning. I didn’t want to get out of bed and think about anything besides you. Your hands. Your lips.

I didn’t want to shower. I didn’t want to wash away the smell of you, the taste of you, the touch of you. I wanted to be able to smell you on me forever. I wanted the last things to have touched my lips to have been your lips. I wanted the curve of my hip to still bear the feel of your hand.

In time, I won’t believe my hours with you were real. I’ll forget the wonder of kissing you endlessly. I’ll forget the feel of our sweaty foreheads pressed together, our mouths so close, we breathed each other‘s breath, our lips occasionally meeting with gentleness or with frenzied desperation. We couldn’t get close enough. I couldn’t touch enough.

I hope I’ll never forget how tender you were. How you never made me feel like even one second of our time together was a business transaction, but filled every moment with scorching passion. How every chance you got, you pulled me closer, until I could feel your heart beating against my chest.

You talked to me for hours, about the moments that made up OUR history, while tracing my tattoo with your fingertips and dropping kisses on my shoulders. You told me of the time you had seen me unexpectedly at the office and had been unable to continue your conversation, so stunned by how beautiful you thought I was. You remember my entire outfit, even described how my hair looked.

After the third time, it was clear that we were both spent, and still you wouldn’t let me go- still kissing me right up until it was time for us to part because you had a plane to catch. And before you let me get into a cab to go home, you kissed me fiercely, a last second reminder of the depth of the connection we had just shared.

Today's Title from: Sexy Love by Ne-Yo

If I don't let myself by happy now, then when?

2008-11-16T12:55:00.004-05:00

As I walked to the subway in Brooklyn this bitterly cold morning, I ran my mind over what will go down in my personal history as a truly spectacular weekend.

Friday:

I went home after work to get some sleep in before what I knew would be a late night. I had movie plans with BFF, then a friend had just found out she had passed the New York bar exam and celebrations were in order. As I drifted into sleep, my phone rang. Jose. A good friend that I used to work with. A mutual friend had been laid off and everyone was meeting for drinks at a bar in midtown.

"Will B-Boy be there?" I asked him.

"No, sorry babe, I asked about him, and he's at a wedding in the Bahamas."

I'm disappointed, but I'd like to see all my old friends, so I get out of bed and get dressed and head to midtown. I schmooze with friends for about a half and hour before leaving to meet BFF. We see Role Models, which is potentially one of the funniest movies I have ever seen. Plans aren't set yet for the night by the time the movie is over, so I head up to Betsy's place to figure it out.

I'm chilling out on Betsy's bed watching Betsy have a clothes crisis when I get a text message.

"Where are you? Come hang out with me." From: B-boy

My heart starts RACING. This could be the opportunity that I've been waiting for, for FIVE years. The crew from earlier is all still out and he texts me the details. Betsy and I make our way down there and drink and dance and flirt for hours. B-boy and I are glued to each other's side and everytime he touches me, I sizzle down to my toes.

We leave around 1:30. Separate post for the ensuing hours to come.

Saturday:

Nicole texts me about a national demonstration on Proposition 8. I'm tired beyond all reason, but I want desperately to fight for the cause that I believe in. A group of us head down to City Hall and stand with the thousands of others there, fighting for equality. It is an incredibly moving and inspiring experience and I find myself crying more than once. After we're done chanting for equality, we find our way to a neighborhood bar and laugh ourselves silly for a few hours.

A few hours later, I am heading to Brooklyn to meet Spatch for dinner before going to a party together later. We talk animatedly for hours over drinks. Her smiles are so prevalent and genuine. It feels good to see her so unbelievably happy. While she finishes up her costume for the evening, I lay on her bed, mellow from my one glass of wine (my tolerance is practically nothing at this point after four months of spectacularly lightened drinking) replaying my night with B-boy over and over in my head. I feel ridiculously happy.

We head to a space in Prospect Heights for a brand new kind of party for me. Its a party where sexual activity is encouraged and there are lots of beds and mattresses to facilitate this. I go into the evening not planning to participate in any sorts of these activities, but to spend my time with my friends on the dance floor and have deliberately have dressed fairly conservatively. I spend most of my evening observing in wide-eyed fascination. Realizing that there's still a lot of things that this small town girl still hasn't experienced, and I'm okay with that.

Around 3 am, I've had enough of the action and leave to go stay at Caryn's house, since I'm not interested in trekking back to Harlem from deep Brooklyn she has offered to let me stay at her house. We talk until I can't keep my eyes open for one second longer.

I wake on her couch this morning to her perfect adorable cat, licking my foot. We find our way to a delightful french bistro for brunch, and I am always in awe of just how well the two of us get along. Every time I see Caryn, I leave being so very, very grateful to have her friendship.

Today, is for spending the day on my couch, coming down from the non-stop activity of the weekend and having deep talks with my BFF about what kinds of changes I want to make in my life (i.e. no more chasing a relationship and trying more casual dating).

Today's Title from: For Me This is Heaven by Jimmy Eat World

The Best News EVER

2008-11-12T12:27:00.001-05:00

It is official- I no longer have to take super-power anti-coagulant coumadin!!!!!!!

**throws confetti**

One man come in the name of love, one man come and go

2008-11-10T22:50:00.003-05:00

Okay, so I'm sorry. I've been totally MIA lately. Mostly, because the big stuff that's going on for me right now, are things that I'm not 100% sure I should be writing about. But I'm going to anyway, and I'm sorry if I alienate or offend anyone.

I've been crazy emotional lately. Crying feels like a regular part of my days now. No, I'm not sad and depressed. I'm just emotional about a lot of things, mostly pertaining to Election Day.

I've been crying with happiness. With relief. To FINALLY have someone in the White House that I BELIEVE in. He inspires me. He makes me want to be a better American. He makes me want to do anything that I can do to help make this world a better place. It feels amazing. I won't go into all the reasons that I was terrified of a different outcome (I'm sure you can guess, I'll give you a hint, it rhymes with Sailin'), but I'll NEVER forget, for as long as I live, the moment when Jon Stewart (yes, I was watching the election results on Comedy Central, but my laptop was on CNN) announced that Barack Obama had won and my neighborhood came alive in a way that I had never seen. I feel so HONORED to have been in Harlem that night. To have stood in line at the polls and voted along side the residents of this community. Sharing a dream that came true.

I've been crying with sadness and frustration. The outcome of Proposition 8 in California left me stunned and abhorred. I'm going to refrain from saying anymore, mostly because just talking about it makes me angry beyond comprehension. I'll never understand why people fight for discrimination and persecution.

On another note. This has the potential to be an absolutely amazing week for me. Tomorrow, I'm getting an IUD. I know this will sound weird, but I'm ridiculously excited. I'm a girl who REALLY doesn't want to get pregnant, and without the added protection of the birth control pill for the last 4 months, I've been a WEE bit anxious.

Also- I have an appointment with my primary doctor on Wednesday. It's been 4 months now since The Pulmonary Embolism, and we'll be discussing how much longer I need to continue with the Coumadin. The recommended time frame is 3-6 months. So everyone keep your fingers crossed for me!

Today's Title from: Pride (In the name of Love) by U2

There is a lie that drags us, Beating and pulling into disappointment

2008-11-03T23:28:00.003-05:00

This morning on the subway, I tried to remember. The last person who gave me butterflies. And I can't remember. I have no idea who it was. Sure, I was pretty crazy about The DJ, but I remember telling my BFF that he didn't give me butterflies and that I was disappointed about that.

Am I less and less genuinely interested in men because I'm older and know better, or because there's genuinely less interesting men?

It may be a combination of both, but it's also fucking irritating.

B-boy bit the dust. Turns out he wanted ME to do all the chasing. Cue racuous laughter. Dude. I don't chase. AT ALL. Its all right though, because when I lifted up his shirt to admire his beautiful abs, I caught a glimpse of the weirdest looking belly button that I have ever seen and maybe it's better that my interaction with said belly button was minimal. Don't want to be scarred for life, ya know?

The Kid. Well. After 1 date, I can safely say that this is something that will never go anywhere. It may be that his idea of taking me out for a nice dinner was Red Lobster in Times Square. It may be that his table manners left a LITTLE something to be desired. It may be that his hands were the same size as mine and that he weighs significantly less than me. It may be that he's 22 and it shows. Either way- I absolutely cannot see myself having sex with him, much less date him. UGH.

And so, with Mr. 11 firmly planted in Florida and not coming back anytime soon it looks to be a long celibate stretch in front of me. Especially because I'm realizing more and more that I'm less interested in sex for the sake of sex and more interested in the intimacy of having sex with someone that I have an emotional connection to. Cheesy, right? And spectacularly unfortunate, since the emotional connections are fewer and far between these days. Talk about a lose-lose situation.

P.S. Go out and vote!!! I've never been so emotionally invested in an election before in my life and I won't tell you WHO I think you should vote for, but instead, just plead with you to exercise your right to vote. Be part of the solution!!!

Today's Title from: What Happens When the Heart Just Stops by The Frames

Time will take them away, But these feelings won't go away

2008-10-28T21:02:00.002-04:00

So, everyone who said, 'once a jerk, always a jerk'- was right on the money. Lucky for me, Scott stood me up for our Saturday date, which means that my decision was easy. No more Scott. At all. Not even as a friend.

Here's the rundown of all the other Man-type situations in my life currently.

Mr. 11. The prettiest man I've ever been involved with. He moved to Florida over a month ago, and we've stayed in contact. I miss him. I miss my Sunday mornings with him. I'll see him when he comes back into town. That's about it.

The Kid. I've had to go out to JFK a lot for work recently and in the process, I've met a 22 year old kid who is ridiculously in love with me. He's cute. And his adoration for me is spectacularly flattering. Some friends think there's no reason not to give it a real chance. Some friends think the entire situation is ludicrous. I'm undecided. I'll admit to having a crush on him. I'll also admit to being really embarrassed at having a crush on him.

B-Boy. I used to work with him. And I had a crush on him the entire time. I kinda threw myself at him at our Christmas party last year, and he seemed receptive, but then nothing ever happened. I was disappointed, but I don't chase and I don't believe in wasting my time trying to make something happen with someone that doesn't want me. On Monday night, I was an invited to an event at my former company and I knew that seeing him was a real possibility. I went in the hopes of making another play for him. He was there. He came straight to me and we flirted, like ridicuslously horny bandits. THEN we found an empty room on another floor and made out like high school kids. It was unbelievably hot. Seriously. Will this turn into a real relationship? Absolutely not. Can I have fun with this? You bet yer ass.

Today's title from: Sideways by Citizen Cope

No! You got to find a way to survive, cause they win when your soul dies

2008-10-23T10:56:00.000-04:00

“I’m TIRED of feeling like I’m not good enough. I don’t want to feel this anymore. What more can I be doing?” I ask my therapist.

We talk about it. We discuss options. She reminds me that self-esteem comes from esteeming acts.

She reminds me how I’ve previously mentioned that due to events that took place when I was 4, I’ve always felt tarnished.

Tarnished. This word reverberates in my head. Dirty. I’m standing on the edge of the cliff in my mind again.

She asks me what if felt like before.

“I don’t remember,” I tell her. “I don’t remember what it felt like to be completely innocent.”

The tears are coming again. Every single time I’m in therapy these days, I cry. Hard. And then I start to feel something new. I feel angry.

I have always been pretty blasé about what happened to me when I was 4. I’ve always felt that it didn’t really affect me that much and that I’ve learned the effects that it did have and I’m aware of them. It’s not something that I talk about very much, not because I deliberately don’t tell people, but because I don’t THINK to tell people. And if I ever do talk about it, I almost always say, “Eh, it didn’t have that much of an effect on me. And I’m not really that upset about it.”

But suddenly and out of nowhere, I’m angry. I’m angry at the douchebag who stole my childhood innocence. I’m angry at myself for having excused his behavior for the last 2 decades. I’m angry that I’ll never know who I was really meant to be, without that experience to shape me. I’m angry that I was forced to learn a coping mechanism at 4 that STILL makes me emotionally constipated to this day. I’m angry that I’m googling psycho-babble shit about healing my inner child and that I find that everything that I read really strikes a chord with me.

I’m ecstatic that I’ve had my epiphany. I’m not so ecstatic that it’s about healing a 26 year old wound.

I cried all day. Sometimes uncontrollably. My eyes hurt today, from the continuous crying of yesterday. I am a little scared about what’s in front of me and I don’t really know how to proceed. I imagine it will involve a lot of crying. And something about finding my 4 year old self.
Today's Title from: Baby Don't Cry by Tupac

But you got to understand, that I need a man, who can take my hand

2008-10-18T18:00:00.003-04:00

What if- once upon a time, you met a guy who with whom you had instant and electric chemistry. And then proceeded to have an almost 2 year long, on again -off again, incredibly tumultous relationship. When it was good, it was the best nights of your life. The most consistently amazing sex. Slow dancing in the living room. Xbox. Laughing endlessly. Long, quiet talks laying in each other's arms. Showering together. Eggo waffles together at 4 am.

But when it was bad, it was horrible. Rarely following through with plans. Lying about cancelled plans. Never really knowing how he felt. Crying endlessly because he just doesn't ever live up to who you hope he'll be.

The relationship ends in veritable burst of flames.

Eventually you become friends again. Completely platonic friends. You have lunches together. You talk on instant messenger. You watch him go through a lot and make a lot of major changes in his life. You watch him battle with his mother's increasing failing health. You watch him become a different person where women are concerned. You talk about life together. And for about 8 months, this is your relationship.

Then one day, you're talking. You're making him laugh with the ridiculous sorts of situations you often find yourself in. He reminisces about your time together. And suggests going out together. It feels different. It feels like things aren't so platonic anymore.

You are hesitant. You remember how strong your feelings for him were. You remember how much he hurt you.

Do you try again?

With dice in the front and Brooklyn's in the back

2008-10-07T23:48:00.005-04:00

Look at me! Writing in the middle of the week!

So, I've mentioned before that people OFTEN remark on my striking resemblance to Britney Spears. I generally don't hide the fact that I LOATHE this comparison (Sorry Mr. UPS guy- I wouldn't REALLY have punched you in the face). I mean seriously- who wants to be told that they resemble a coke-head who frequently appears in public appearing to have lost the ability to shower? Yes- I'll grant you, she's cleaned up quite a bit recently. However, I still resent any kind of comparison. I just don't like her. Its very similar to my dislike for Mariah Carey. And Celine Dion. And Jennifer Lopez. Okay, I'm done now. Oh wait- and also Jessica Simpson.

Anyhoo. The other day, I was on the subway with my BFF, Karen. We were heading to Brooklyn to explore a new neighborhood (we like to do this and if we didn't have ridiculously low rent, we decided that we would move to BK, cause it's just so NORMAL there). And there, on that subway, Karen committed the unthinkable crime. My-Crazy-Cat-Lady-Life-Partner, who gets me better than anybody else turned to me and said, "Ya know, you really do look a lot like Britney Spears."

She attempted to diminish the heinousness of this crime by telling me that my resemblance is from Britney-The-Good-Years. But alas, my heart was broken. Not to be mended until she let me pick the restaurant for dinner based solely on the fact that they had mahi-mahi. Although the restaurant did turn out to be very good, even if their sauce for the calamari was sinus-clearingly hot. And then the ache subsided even further when we wandered into an Italian restaurant and had some unbelievably delicious panna cotta. And tiramisu. I don't know that a man will ever satisfy me as well as real, heavy, sugary cream does.

So. I'm nearing the 3 month anniversary of My Hospitalization. Can you believe its been 3 months since that lovely ambulance ride complete with oxygen tubes up my nose? Why is 3 months significant? Because my lovelies- the recommended time frame for taking coumadin (REALLY annoying super-power anticoagulant) after a pulmonary embolism is.... 3-6 months!!! Which means- that I am nearing the time when- I will no longer have to take coumadin every day!!!!! YAY!!!!!!!! I'll be able to drink endless amounts of alcohol! (okay, not really, cause I tend to throw up pretty easily, so LOTS of alcohol is never a good idea). I'll be able to have SALAD! Oh, kids, its going to be so pretty and bright- my coumadinless world.

My only concern is that, well, they don't have a good solid explanation for WHY I got the blood clots. I'm mean, yes, the birth control pill is certainly a factor. But, its very rare for the birth control pill to be the ONLY factor in a (relatively) healthy, non-smoking female under 35. They've done quite a bit of blood/genetic testing and nothing is taking responsibility for this! UGH. Which means- if they take me off the coumadin, will I clot again? Will it kill me the next time? Just a little something to think about. Feel free to let me know if you have any thoughts on the matter.

Today's Title from: No Sleep Till Brooklyn by The Beastie Boys

To learn how to breath, again

2008-10-05T13:11:00.002-04:00

Ok, I promise to start writing more than once a week soon!!!

I was talking to my therapist about a current situation in my life, that is a little too complicated for my personal drama meter, and I start crying. I don't even know why. And I can't stop. I cry the entire session and as I leave, I feel like someone has sucked my soul out, leaving me empty and drained. All I want to do is go home and crawl into bed and stay there for a few days.

I'm not saying that I'm unhappy or depressed in any way (I actually feel the exact opposite of depressed- elated, joyful are better words). When I was in that office, a place that I have come to know as a very safe environment, I saw in my head that I was standing at the edge of the cliff. And on the other side of that cliff was an epiphany. An important truth that I needed to know. I didn't get there. It remained elusive and out of my grasp. I wanted time to stop and think. To go back to the cliff and jump.

Was it the ability to finally wrap my head around the fact that only a few short months ago, I almost died? Was it to genuinely believe that I AM lovable? I don't know. I don't know if I'll ever know.

In the meantime, I'm gonna go for a run.

Today's Title from: How to Say Goodbye by Paul Tiernan

Something must go wrong, cause its way too right

2008-09-28T11:25:00.002-04:00

Despite the incessant rain this weekend, I've managed to stay outrageously busy.

Yesterday morning- I ran 5 miles. In Central Park- which means- NOT on a treadmill. Now, to runners this probably doesn't seem like much of a feat. But to me- this is amazing. This is the farthest I have ever run in my entire life. And to have done it outside, which is considerably more difficult than treadmill running, makes my accomplishment THAT much sweeter. Especially because I ran during the short span of time that it had stopped raining, and I was forced to exert twice the normal amount of effort dodging the puddles around The Reservoir. On the subway, on the way home, I found myself getting a little emotional (I'm also PMSing) about how far I've come in the last year.

I'm probably not going to make my 50 lb goal by the end of the year, special thanks goes out to that totally kick-ass pulmonary embolism, and subsequent ban on working out and 2 month long plateau as a result, for that. But I'm gonna be close. Which means that I will weigh a number that I haven't weighed since I was in HIGH SCHOOL. About 12 years ago.

I was at brunch yesterday morning with someone who is in a pretty dark place. I listened to her talk about her life and all the changes she wants to make. I feel bad. I feel bad that she is so unhappy. I feel bad about being so spectacularly happy myself. I don't know what to say. I don't know how to make it better. I can't make someone else want to find happiness from within. I can't force someone else to understand that happiness doesn't come from another person or from a relationship. I've been there. I've felt this way. I've waited for someone else to come along and make all the bad stuff go away. A person doesn't move past this way of thinking until they are ready. She isn't ready.

This morning, I stood in the mirror admiring my newly prominent collar bones. The incredible shrinking waist. I think about the conversation that I had with my therapist about my self-image. She asked how I see myself, even after a 35 lb weight loss, my answer was, "fat". And wonder when, or if, I will ever be able to start seeing myself differently. Will I ever be comfortable flirting with boys in a bar, not wondering if they're hoping the fat girl will stop talking to them?

Here's hoping.

Today's Title from: Stop this World by Ne-Yo

Thru this new frame of mind, A thousand flowers could bloom

2008-09-22T21:56:00.002-04:00

Honestly, the last weekend may very well be the most perfect weekend of my life. Not for anything big, but for random little things.

Friday night, I had Shake Shack burgers and saw Burn after Reading (fantastic movie!) with one of my most favorite friends. And after walking out of the movie, I saw that my phone had been assaulted with text messages. One was from another kick-ass friend of mine wanting to go out that night. The rest (4 total) were from Mr. 11. Apparently he felt very strongly about communicating again before he left. It unnerved and flattered me.

I did end up going dancing with my kick-ass friend, Betsy, that was fun for about the first hour, while we mercilessly made fun of the 'dancer' in our group who spent most of the evening showing us her 'skills'. But the meat-packing district always turns into a pumpkin for me after a certain amount of time and I feel desperate to escape the vapidness of the Bridge and Tunnel crowd and the sheer amount of skin on display. Luckily, Betsy is always on the same page as me regarding this matter.

Saturday morning, I got a hair cut and highlights. This is HANDS DOWN one of my most favorite things in the world. I try to keep it interesting, and walked out this time with cool copper lowlights that accent my blue eyes perfectly. Also, my stylist told me that everyone in the salon refers to me as, "The girl who everyone wants her hair." HAHAHAHAHA. Isn't that awesome?

After I left the salon, I went shopping. Shopping has become almost a painful experience for me these days. I am smack in the middle of a horrific fashion crisis and can't EVER find anything that I like that looks good on me. I have doubled my trouble by no longer allowing myself to buy empire waist tops because as a female with large breasts and a tiny waist- I have done this style to death and I feel very strongly about making some dramatic wardrobe changes. And as a result, I never buy anything. And I spend the rest of my life crying when I open my closet because I have nothing to wear. Breaks your heart, doesn't it? I did go home with a beautiful new Tahari sweater that certainly brightens my fashion outlook. And yes, I'm a total label whore.

Saturday night I kept very low key with my BFF. We had our usual date night, then came home and went to bed because I planned to get up early the next morning to go running. An early am emergency phone call (nothing bad for me, just a friend in a crisis) and a desperate need to sleep ruined this plan for me, so instead of running in Central Park, I pounded out 4.5 miles at the gym.

I had to hurry because I had plans. I had plans to go to church in Brooklyn with a new friend that I have a major girl crush on. Church is fun and interesting and I like it. After church, we have the most delicious mac and cheese in maybe all 5 boroughs and never, ever run out of intelligent conversation. She is warm and witty and her laugh makes me laugh. And she tells me that I need to stop being so hard on myself. And I find myself wanting to be less hard on myself- just for her. :)

Today's Title from: Glory Box by Portishead

Now I realize that I really didn't know

2008-09-19T11:52:00.001-04:00

The text message read, "FYI, I really liked you."

And my heart shatters into a million pieces. Nobody ever says this to me. Especially not 11's. Its these words that I crave more than 'sexy' or 'beautiful'.
______________________________________________________________________

"You look... extra," he said.

"Extra what?"

"Extra hot."

I snorted. "I'm always hot."

"I know. If you weren't already hot, I would have said- you look hot- but since you're already hot, you look... extra."
________________________________________________________________

Its the morning and my alarm is minutes away from going off. He rolls over, wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me close. He is pressed into the back of me from neck to toes. I am silent. I don't know what to say. Walking away completely is never easy and he has thrown me for a loop by moving to Florida. Tomorrow. He strokes my hair, and kisses the back of my neck.

"Stop thinking so much," he orders me.

We talk about nothing. Nothing is decided. We don't make plans for me to come visit him in Florida and I don't ask him when he'll be back in New York. He walks me to the train station and kisses me goodbye.

The End.

Today's Title from: Better in Time by Leona Lewis

I got a problem and I don’t know what to do about it

2008-09-16T22:11:00.002-04:00

So, D.C. was awesome, if also blisteringly hot. On Saturday morning, I got up much earlier than people should get when on vacation and having spent a large portion of the previous evening in a car, in a horrible thunderstorm, stuck in traffic, and ran down to The Mall and jogged around the monuments before running back to my hotel. All total it was about 4 miles, which is half a mile less than I wanted to go. Argh. I'm blaming it on the heat. I was literally drenched in sweat by the time I was done.

Interestingly enough, I heard from Mr. 11 (the way-too-pretty guy that I ended things with last week). I had expected that he would replace me right quick and that he would probably be the exception and be the guy that did NOT come back. He didn't come right and say that he wanted to see me, but the text message read, "hey sexy. Just wanted to say hi." Hmmm, I wonder what he could have wanted? (that was sarcasm, very, very thick sarcasm)

I had dinner with Email Boy tonight. Just so you can have an idea of JUST how amazing and fun our relationship is, here's the text messages that went back and forth today.

Me: What time do you want to meet tonight?
EB: Whenever you want, sweetie. I'm flexible, it just has to be after 6:30.
Me: Is 8ish too late? (I wanted to hit the gym after therapy and before meeting him)
EB: Yes, that's a wee bit late. Will be starving bro.
Me: Fine! I'll go to the gym on my lunch break! Want to meet at 7?
EB: 7 works. I'm excited. Also, how come you always book the gym on our dinner nites? U should go home and get gussied up for me.
Me: Bro- I go to the gym every day. It doesn't have anything to do with my plans with you. And I don't get gussied up for you because I'm afraid the 'cute' talk may happen again! (one night, when him and I went to a Mets game, he went on and on about how cute I looked. It made me all sorts of uncomfortable)
EB: Haha. Whatever u do, do not put your hair in pig tails again (my FAVORITE way to wear my hair). I may hit on you again.

Then he gave me a lecture about not going to the gym everyday and how my body needs to rest. I'll admit that after the power yoga, the running AND the total body conditioning class yesterday, I could have probably used a little rest. But considering that after dinner, we went and got some cheesecake, I'm pretty damn glad that I got that workout in.

All in all, I'm pretty damn terrified that I'll never fall in love because I'll never find anyone as great as him.

Today's Title from: Because of You by Ne-Yo

Just de-lovely and delicious

2008-09-11T22:47:00.004-04:00

Tomorrow my BFF and I are heading down to Washington D.C. for the weekend (she is participating in a triathlon down there). We are looking for restaurant recommendations, so if you are a resident and would like to chime in (Bad Girl- i'm lookin' at you), I would love some good ideas for dinner and brunch.

So, I am LOATHE to say this, because the last time I waxed poetic about how life seems to be shining its brightest rays on me, it only took a few short weeks for karma to give me a good, solid kick straight to the crotch (January... The DJ.... tears.... many, many tears.....).

But seriously, I can't seem to stop smiling. And its not solely because of the memory that I carry with me constantly of the boy on the treadmill last week that didn't seem to understand the mechanics of stopping the treadmill and went flying off the back end, a dazzling spectacle of windmilling arms and legs, as I stood to the side waiting and watching. Although that memory does bring me great joy.

Its also because I have really, really, really great friends. Old and new (Ms. Solly!!!). Its because I've never felt more secure in my future career (found out today that old job regrets having shat all over me and is creating a new position that they would like me to take). Its that therapy is working and I am making better decisions and berating myself less. Its my incredible shrinking waist. Its that everytime I run, I can go faster and farther. Its that I'm alone and I'm totally and completely fine with it.

Shit. I'm just gonna stop there. Before karma notices and decides I'm too damn happy.

Today's Title from: Groove is in the Heart by Deee-Lite

And I know it's easy to say but it's harder to feel

2008-09-08T22:24:00.002-04:00

I held the phone in my hands. My finger poised over the 'call' button. I knew what I needed to do. But did I have the strength in me to do it?

I told myself that this would get easier each time I did it. I told myself I was saving myself from a whole lot of hurt down the road. I reminded myself of all the reasons that this was what was best for me.

I still choked up as the words, "I don't think we should see each other anymore," left my mouth.

I'm surprised at how upset I am about this. I mean, we've been seeing each other very, very casually for only about month and a half. And I've never been crazy about him, obviously, since I've never written one single word about him. I've mostly continued to see him because, physically, on a scale of 1 to 10, he's an 11 and its been an incredible boost to my ego that this man finds me attractive. And, its been nice to have someone to wake up next to every Sunday morning.

However, the relationship is very clearly not going anywhere, and I have to be true to what I want. And what I do not want is a purely physical relationship. Which is what I told him. He didn't fight or argue or try to get me to change my mind. And that was it. The end. No more Sunday mornings.

I've been beating myself up pretty badly at having even let this relationship last as long as it has, considering all of the reasons why it should have never progressed beyond date one. But I have to admit to being pretty proud of myself for getting out of it now. Before letting it go on for months/years, like I have in previous relationships with all of the same red flags.

There is a poem, that sits in the waiting area of my therapist's office. That has been at the forefront of my mind a lot lately, called An Autobiography in 5 Short Paragraphs by Portia Nelson.

1. I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. I am lost. I am hopeless. It isn't my fault. It takes forever to find a way out.

2. I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I pretend I don't see it. I fall in. I can't believe I'm in the same place, but it isn't my fault. It still takes a long time to get out.

3. I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see it is there. I still fall in. My eyes are open. I know where I am. It is my fault. I get out immediately.

4. I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it.

5. I walk down a different street.

I am at 3. I can't wait to be at 5.

Today's title from: The Fear You Won't Fall by Joshua Radin

When there's something worth running for

2008-09-07T20:04:00.003-04:00

I've decided to run a 10K next month. 6.2 miles. In about 5 weeks. This may or may not happen, depending on how the training goes.

I've also decided to run a half-marathon next year. April or Mayish. I need about 4 months to train, and I'd like to lose about 15 more pounds before I start the training. (FYI- when I initially started with my weight loss plan, I wanted to lose about 50 pounds. While 50 pounds will be phenomenal, I'd actually like to lose more. Probably between 60-70 pounds total. It's going to be a very long journey.)

So, today, I ran 4 miles. Maybe the farthest I've ever run in my life. It felt pretty damn good. Especially when I still had enough in me to sprint the last lap. Next week I'm going to have to start running outside though because road running is much, much harder than treadmill running.

And, as long as I'm letting y'all in on my goals- I've also decided that I am going to marry an Irish guy. Interestingly enough- in the last 4 years of my life, the only white guys that I have gotten involved with (as minor as the "involvement" may have been) have all been Irish. All of them have been outrageously funny and have taken my sarcasm and acerbic wit with aplomb. So, if anyone out there knows any irish guys who love strong willed chicks with long blonde hair, a big ass and a fantastic rack- feel free to send them my way (seriously- the ass is out of control. I was talking to a trainer at my gym about some training sessions and he said, "Yeah, I've seen you around, and you've definitely been losing weight, but not in your ass, so that's good!") Make sure to mention that I'm a great cook and have developed some very fine blow job skills.

The radio’s been playing the same song all day long…

2008-09-04T20:49:00.004-04:00

Well, it was a whirlwind of a labor day weekend, where even on the days where I wasn't flying from coast to coast, I still did at least 3-4 hours of traveling. Of course, on one of those days, the traveling was done to and from my brother's house in my dad's Porsche Boxster, with me driving and quite frankly, life doesn't get any sweeter than that.

Everyone oohed and ahhed at my weight loss, which really surprised me, as I feel like I still look like I did 35 pounds ago. And I definitely still feel ridiculously fat.

The wedding was beautiful. The time with my dad was eye-opening and cathartic. I feel like I'm made quantam leaps in the last few months regarding my relationship with my father. And its maybe the best thing that could've happened to me.

Life just seems.... so content. I've noticed that since I've been off birth control, that I am much less emotionally volatile. I cry less. I get anxious less. I feel considerably more in control of my emotions. I never feel like I am just one small step away from a breakdown. Its beautiful. I'm also MUCH hornier, which is not quite so beautiful. Luckily, me and my right hand have developed a beautiful relationship.

Man alive, when did I get so friggin boring? At least I didn't mention my stupid pulmonary embolism once! Or how much it sucked to have an open bar at the wedding with CHAMPAGNE that I couldn't really take advantage of. Progress!

Today's title from: Rising Down by The Roots

I've been a fool, In so many ways

2008-08-27T20:35:00.003-04:00

'When did I stop reading?' I asked myself as I wandered the aisles at Barnes and Noble, inhaling one of my favorite smells- books and coffee. I couldn't remember the last book I had finished. I used to devour them. They used to be my escape, my haven. My first incredibly lonely 6 months in New York City were spent in the cafe at the Lincoln Center Barnes and Noble. Reading anything and everything while eating cheesecake with hot chocolate (one of the many reasons I became such an unbelievable fat ass).

I passed the Relationships section, not even pausing, as I am a complete and utter failure at relationships and don't need a book to tell me this. A title caught my eye, How to Marry a Fabulous Guy. I mentally scoffed. 'That's easy. In order to marry a fabulous guy, you have to be a fabulous girl,' I thought.

Am I a fabulous girl?

The answer is a resounding 'no'.

The motivation behind fabulous girls' actions are not validation and fear of rejection/abandonment. A fabulous girls acts out of self-respect, not desperation.

A fabulous girl would NEVER let the men back into her life who have previously treated her like complete shit.

A fabulous girl does not continually allow relationships to develop into something that is purely physical, then get upset because that's all they want from her.

A fabulous girl knows what she wants and she doesn't compromise or accomodate.

A fabulous girl recognizes the signs of a man who is interested in only sex from her and HEEDS them. For fucks sake.

I am not a fabulous girl.

Today's Title from: (Another Song) All Over Again by Justin Timberlake

And I'm back to tear it up, Haters, start your engines

2008-08-25T23:21:00.002-04:00

current mood: PISSED

Okay, I'm going to get a little technical on you here.

So, I went to get my blood tested today. I do this often as my blood needs to be regulated very closely while I'm on Coumadin (my super-power anticoagulant). My INR level (International Normalised Ratio) needs to be between a 2.0 and 3.0, which is essentially the speed that my blood clots at (the higher the number, the slower my blood clots). When I started on Coumadin, I couldn't seem to get below a 3.0, which isn't horrible, but it increases my risk of bleeding out (i.e. bleeding into the brain). So we decreased my daily dose from 5 mg to 4 mg. And since then, my INR has been steadily declining. 4 weeks ago it was a 2.9. 2 weeks ago it was a 2.0. When it hit 2.0, both me and my dad thought that my daily dosage should be increased. My doctor left it at 4 mg a day and told me to come back in 2 weeks. And I knew that I would come back and that it would be below 2.0. I was right. I went in today and my INR was 1.7. And they didn't change my dose!! They kept me at 4 mg a day! ARE THEY TRYING TO KILL ME??? When INR goes below 2.0, it dramatically increases my risk of developing clots again. Oh, and did I mention I have 7 hours worth of flying to do on Friday? (long flights are a main cause of blood clots, I have been instructed to get up and walk around the plane at least once an hour to maintain blood flow).

So, I called my dad as soon as I walked out of there. He was furious and declared it 'unacceptable'. He is a doctor who has been doing this for 30 years, so I trust him implicitly (especially since he diagnosed me with a pulmonary embolism 3 days before I ended up in the ER). He upped my daily dose to 5 mg and hopefully that will take effect soon enough that I don't die while flying to Seattle on Friday.

Current mood: once I get over my frustration with my incompetent doctors, ECSTATIC

1. All of my genetic testing has come back negative, which means that my clotting isn't a chronic problem and I will be able to get off Coumadin sooner

2. While talking to my dad, he suggested that on Saturday, that him and I drive to my brother's house, which is only an hour and a half away from my dad. I ecstatically agreed, since my brother and his wife recently had their 4th child and I haven't had a chance to meet the little tyke yet. I called my sister-in-law to make sure it was ok that my dad and I come calling on Saturday, and learned that all of my family that lives in my hometown were ALSO coming to visit that weekend. And so, I will get to spend Saturday with my ENTIRE immediate family. My mom. My dad. My sister. My two brothers. And my 9 (yes 9!) nieces and nephews. I am ridiculously excited.

3. We have been babysitting 2 cats for a month now. At first I was ridiculously excited. I am a MAD animal lover and my life feels incomplete without a pet. Both cats are about a year old, so they have ridiculous amounts of energy and are very needy cats. After a few weeks with them, their welcome began to wear thin. One of them always sleeps with me at night. She wakes me up by taking a swipe at my face (which I could not get to stop bleeding, thanks coumadin!) and this morning by digging a claw into the bottom of my foot. Most of the time, I kick her feline ass out, especially cause she starts to get really vocal about needing attention around 6:30 in the morning, but I like having something curled up to me, so sometimes I let her stay. However, they are leaving tomorrow.

No more living room covered in litter.

No more cat hair everywhere.

No more bodies CONSTANTLY underfoot.

No more waking up in the middle of the night to my incredibly expensive makeup brush collection being strewn about my room.

4. Okay, so the weight loss thing was sidelined a little during my initial recovery. Somehow I managed to maintain the weight that I had hit and not gained anything back, even though I wasn't working out at all and not exactly staying on points. I went back into working out with a vengeance mode last week and lost 2 more pounds as of this morning. Total weight loss to date- 35 pounds.

Today's Title from: Everything I am by Kanye West

I've looked at love from both sides now

2008-08-21T00:10:00.003-04:00

Some days, I recognize that Karma is finally paying me back for all the shit that it sends my way.

I had an amazing night last night. I went to a Mets game with Email Boy, a relationship that I don't talk about much on here, mainly because it requires no dissection. Outside of my family, he is the most important man in my life. He brought me flowers while I was in the hospital, and visited me multiple times. He is my constant. One of my best friends. To say that he means the world to me is a minor understatement.

Work kinda kicked my ass today and in the middle of all the trauma, I had to haul my ass down to the courthouse for another battle in the War Against the Landlords. I didn't win, but I didn't necessarily lose. After work, I went and met up with Spatch to have lobsters (she had lobster, I had seared sea scallops and grilled vegetables- cause I don't believe in working that hard for my food) before she leaves for burning man. Dinner was an interesting combination of people, but the food and the company was dynamite.

After briefly stopping to see some friends at a book release party, I headed home. And my subway karma has never been better. The B train pulled into the station RIGHT as I walked down the stairs at Grand Street, and when the B (local train) pulled into 59th st, an A (express) train pulled in across the platform. Living at an express stop is really, really fantastic. And I made it home from the Lower East Side to Harlem in under a half an hour. That is New York City magic right there.

And once I got home, I decided that I should maybe be going to my cousin's wedding in Seattle next weekend. So, I did myself some researching and found a reasonably priced ticket and will officially be in Seattle for Labor Day weekend and will get to spend some time with my dad, who instructed me to get up and walk around the plane once an hour. Isn't he the best? Seriously, why did it take me SO FUCKING LONG to recognize that he loves me?

No news on the Oscar front. We haven't spoken since The Jets Game Debacle and I'm okay with that. Its lovely to finally have my rose-colored glasses off and actually recognize him for the douchebag that he is.

Today's Title from: Both Sides Now by Joni Mitchell

Cause while it's over me it's too dark to see tomorrow

2008-08-17T14:33:00.003-04:00

I've started a million blog posts in the last week. But can't ever seem to get a handle on my emotions and loathe to put something down that I know is probably going to change in a matter of hours/minutes/seconds.

A lot has happened.

I went on a business trip to Cincinnati. This was, for the most part, completely unremarkable.

I had an amazing dinner and subsequent pot of tea with 2 friends that I find that I love more and as I learn more about them.

I had a horrible evening with Oscar at a Jets game that only even further steeled my resolve to not get involved with him romantically again, especially when the evening ended with a bitter argument. The entire 4 hour time span that we spent together may go down in my personal history as one of the dumbest things I have ever done.

Most importantly- I ran again. For the first time since I threw my hands up in frustration after an agonizing 20 minutes on the treadmill at our hotel in Baltimore (2 weeks prior to my hospitalization), I stepped on a treadmill. I was nervous and scared. And 2 beautiful miles later, I learned that I can run again. And I don't remember the last time I felt so good. Then I did some elliptical, then I walked to the grocery store. Then, I got home, and I remembered that my medicine makes me unbearably tired and had to lay my exhausted head down.

I'm not going to go into another bitchfest about how much I hate my medicine and the side effects that have started ruling my life, but needless to say, I am counting down the days until I don't have to take it any more.

Today's Title from: The World is Yours by Nas

It's time I let you go, So I can be free

2008-08-11T22:36:00.003-04:00

So, I have not actually broken the bad news to Oscar yet, that I will not be accepting his kind offer to rekindle our flame, so really, all y'all should hold off on your praise until I have actually made it through that conversation still holding true to my decision. Although, I did have a phenomenal session with my therapist today that definitely helped to steel my resolve.

Can I tell you, though, that I have the world's greatest friends? This weekend, my old roommate and one of the most important people in the world to me, Abby, came into town and I spent every single second that I could with her. We shopped, we went to eat at all of her favorite restaurants, we walked around the city, reminiscing about all the crazy shit we used to do. And somewhere in there, I managed to go on the most perfect bike ride in history with my BFF, Karen. Although, my lungs weren't QUITE up to the challenge of the uphill parts of the Brooklyn Bridge. But getting to yell at all the tourists to get out of the bike lane? TOTALLY made up for it.

Honestly. I'm sort of ridiculously content. Other than my frustration with my physical state (seriously how long does it take for these fucking clots to go away?), I'm just so damn pleased with My Year of Me and how it's progressing. I'm ecstatic that I'm managing to resist the pull to try things with Oscar again and not just because I know its not the right thing, but because I genuinely don't want to. Out of my hormone-induced crying jag of last week, I can't think of anything worse than another sleepless, anxiety filled night waiting for that motherfucker to call. I'd rather be alone, and I really genuinely mean that. I'm at a bit of a plateau with the weight loss, but mostly because I lost my motivation for a few weeks there, and I'm pleased to announce that the motivation is back! I can't wait to lose the NEXT 30 lbs.

So, I apologize. I teased y'all with some good juicy drama, but chances are, it'll very shortly go back to my insanely boring life where all I talk about is The Gym and the new Boca product that I discovered that I'm in love with (chik'n patties! How good are they?!?!).

Today's title from: Better in Time by Leona Lewis

I have come to learn I'll only see you interrupting my dreams at night

2008-08-07T10:03:00.000-04:00

I've made my decision. It wasn't easy and it's involved a lot of crying on my part at the most random and inopportune times. Like in the shower this morning.

But, yesterday at worked while I debated the pros and cons, I remembered The Crazy Days. The days when my feelings for you and your apathy towards me sent me spiraling into a place of uncontrollable emotions. I look back on those 3-4 days last August, when I cried practically non-stop because all I wanted was for you to return my fucking call, and cringe. How did I let myself get to that place? How can I ever put myself in a position where I could be there again???

I mean, fuck, you are THE REASON I went to therapy. I wanted to make sure I was strong enough in my myself to never allow myself to stay together with someone who doesn't want to be with me as much as I want to be with them.

Its not that I don't love you. Because I do. Irrationally, ridiculously so. And making the decision NOT to try things with you again is tearing me apart. I love it that you remember the color of the sheets on my bed and exactly how I'm going to react in almost any situation. You know all the little things, the trivial details that make me who I am. And you STILL want to be with me. But, I know where this is going to go. I know exactly how much effort you aren't going to put into this. It wasn't enough for me the first time. It wasn't enough for me the second time. And you haven't changed enough in the last 6 months for it be enough the third time.

You COULD be The One. You have the potential. But you're not willing to put in the effort required to find out. And I deserve better. I have to believe there is someone out there, who wants to fall in love with me, who wants me to become a major part of his life. We both know, that's not you.

Today's Title from: The Hat by Ingrid Michaelson

Should I Give Up or Should I Just Keep Chasing Pavements?

2008-08-05T23:33:00.003-04:00

You looked different. You cut all your hair off. I almost didn't recognize you when you walked in with your sunglasses on and looking so dashing in your suit.

We talked for a long time. About life. About us. Sometimes I put my head on your shoulder just to smell you. Sometimes I turned my head away from you, so you wouldn't see the tears I couldn't stop.

You want to date me. You want to be with me. You understand if I can't do that.

You don't have an answer when I tell you that you're still the same person I couldn't be with 6 months ago and that you still can't give me what I want.

I tell you that I want there to be the potential for something real. You say, "ok". This doesn't inspire confidence in me for our future.

You leave it in my hands. You place the ball in my court, telling me to think about things. You tell me that you don't want to hurt me, and that you don't want me to cry anymore.

We stand and you put your arms around me. You kiss lightly along my jaw and down my neck.

When I bring your lips to my lips, it feels like coming home.

You've got to cry without weeping, talk without speaking, scream without raising your voice

2008-08-05T23:10:00.003-04:00

So, someone that I love very dearly is also going through a health crisis currently. They haven't been able to diagnose why she's covered in red bumps and quite frankly, in her situation, I would probably be home crying every night and eating pints of Ben & Jerry's for every meal. So, imagine my surprise when she told me last night that I was 'an inspiration' to her.

I was under the impression that I did nothing but complain about my situation. Apparently, I need to do more of that.

Dear Pulmonary Embolism,

I HATE you. I absolutely, positively LOATHE you. You have managed to wiggle yourself into every single aspect of my life and... FUCKED IT UP. And it sucks.

Lets start with the one thing that used to bring me constant and incessant joy. The Gym. Oh, how I loved my gym time. So much so, that I used to go twice a day. Those were beautiful, breath-filled days. For the last month and a half, you have ruined this for me. First you made it suck, then you took it away from me completely. I'm SLOWLY getting back into things, but may have pushed it a little too hard at a total-body conditioning class. I sensed this because every time I bent over, then stood back up, I got light-headed and saw stars. No joke. Every single time. So now I will be cancelling my appointment with my personal trainer later this week. And attempt to force myself to take it slower.

You have also ruined birth control for me. I used to enjoy a beautiful world where I knew TO THE HOUR when I would get my period and when it would end, 3 very short days later. Now that it has been taken away from me FOREVER, things are happening willy-nilly, without much warning, when its not supposed to be happening, and dear god, because of the Coumadin, I have one word for you- HEAVY. Like ridiculously heavy. Seriously, I hate you.

Coumadin. Of course you have to be treated with The Worlds Most Annoying Drug. Only 2 drinks! I need to celebrate LIFE! I can't do that on 2 drinks!!! I'm okay with removing the leafy-greens from my diet, I'm not a huge spinach lover, but sometimes, I miss broccoli. And cranberry. And I don't know for sure what the cause of this is, but did I mention the pounding headaches? Every single day? They are unpleasant. And because of the coumadin, i can't take aleve, advil or excedrin. The only option available to me is tylenol. Which is essentially useless. I will not go into my complaints about not being able to take Diflucan (the wonder drug used to treat yeast infections), because some men read this, but this is also a complaint at the top of my list.

It was suggested to me that I may go through the 5 stages of grief over this Crisis. If this is true, then I am QUITE confident that I have hit ANGER. Although, I'm pretty sure I already went through depression, so maybe that's something else that you've fucked up.

I want to be NORMAL again. I want to get on the treadmill and RUN. I want to make plans to go paintballing with my friends and not worry that getting hit by a paintball will cause enough internal bleeding to kill me. I want to go out and drink until I'm done drinking and not worry about every single drop of alcohol that passes my lips. I want to stop cataloguing every single pain that I feel in my calves (a symptom). I don't want to go back and get my INR tested ANYMORE.

Please. Go away. Take your chest pains and shortness of breath and leave me in peace. Haven't you done enough???

Love,
Chloe

Today's Title from: Running to Stand Still by U2

Shattered windows and the sound of drums

2008-07-30T19:33:00.004-04:00

Yesterday was a shitty ass day. One of those days where nothing goes right, ya know?

2 hours at the doctor's office, just to test my coumadin levels (should take 15 min MAX), when I had piles of work waiting for me back at my desk. That I didn't get to, because I had to spend my entire afternoon cleaning up someone's else major fucking mess.

So, the pile on my desk? Went home with me. And having been banned from the gym by my dr, following a minor setback on Sunday involving chest pains, I went directly home after work. And exercised the right to use my weight watchers flex points (which I NEVER use) and ordered myself a hamburger while I finished up my piles of work.

I was starting to feel better about life in general, and opted to continue the process of putting my room back together, since it has been in plastic bags for over a month now (the bed bugs JUST might be gone, praise allah). I turned up the music, and set to it.

Around 10, my phone rang. A restricted number. I HATE restricted numbers. I generally don't answer them (if you can't show me who you are, then you don't get to talk to me). But then I always spend hours agonzing over who it was. Anyway. I didn't answer. I wasn't in the mood to deal with whatever was on the other end of a blocked call.

2 minutes later, my phone rang again. This time- unblocked.

And I couldn't have been more surprised to see that it was....... Oscar.

WTF?

He didn't seem to have a reason for calling. He just wanted to chat and find out how life was. We talked for almost 2 hours. At the end of the call, he asked if he could see me. I agreed to meet in a public place.

Its just so nutty. His timing. I've FINALLY gotten to that place where he doesn't have a hold on me anymore. I could have never heard from him again and been totally fine. I don't think about calling or texting him anymore. Sure, I still have fantasies about running into him, looking absolutely fabulous, but at the end of those fantasies, I don't end up getting back together with him.

Why now? Why contact me at all?

Here's hoping he doesn't get around to making actual plans.

Today's Title from: Viva la Vida by Coldplay

One, or two, more things....

2008-07-27T23:32:00.001-04:00

Oh, P.S. Guess what my total hospital bill was?

$35,000

Guess how much I have to pay?

$250

Three cheers for insurance!!!

P.P.S. Don't let her fool you, Caryn is MY doppleganger.

Holding your heart will not help you breathe

2008-07-27T16:22:00.003-04:00

So, I am getting better, sort of. I have good days, great days and shitty days.

The coumadin (my super-power anticoagulant), however, sucks. I'm not a big drinker, but having my ability to drink taken away is... unpleasant. And this is not a drug that a person can play fast and loose with the 'recommendations'. Mis-using this drug can have fatal complications. FANTASTIC!

Also, I bruise easily. My super-power anticoagulant is great for treating someone who has just escaped the jaws of death by blood clot, but maintaing my blood at a decreased clotting level for several months, means that I will continue to look like a battered women for some time. I have this wacky bruise on my wrist, that I don't even know how I got it, that has prompted MANY people to make jokes about what sort of activities may be going on behind the closed doors at my house, including, but not limited to, my pilates instructor.

On another subject, I've lost a little over 30 pounds. I just went shopping at H&M where I fit into everything I tried on, something that has never happened to me before in the entirety of my life. I also just hit a major benchmark, a number that I haven't been below since I was in high school. It feels great, but it also feels a little empty. I'm still unhappy with my body and people don't notice as much as I want them to. I want to look dramatically different. And instead, I still feel... chubby. Argh. This blood clot bullshit isn't helping either.

Today's title from: Sooner or Later by N.E.R.D.

Like a comet pulled from orbit as it passes the sun

2008-07-16T23:45:00.002-04:00

I got discharged from the hospital today. I piled all the magazines, gifts, flowers, and other random shit I'd collected over my 6 day stint into the back of a cab and took my leave of NYU Medical.

As the cab pulled away, and turned onto FDR, I found myself sobbing. Sobbing for how unbelievably lucky I was.

And I HATE melodrama. I HATE making something bigger than it really is.

But sweet baby j, I could have died.

There was a terrifying half hour in the ER when the doctor there was convinced I had a virus in my heart. When I asked him, "Is it life-threatening?"

His response was, "not usually."

So, you can imagine that when I got the news that it wasn't an infection in my heart, but blood clots in my lungs, I was ecstatic.

Yay for blood clots!

And from the beginning, my dad (who is a doctor and this sort of shit is his specialty) has very much downplayed what happened to me. Never once letting me know how fatal he personally has seen this to be, until today when he felt like I was recovered enough to know. Thanks, Dad! Maybe you could've waited 6 more months, huh?

Just as a side note- my dad was an absolute shining star of a father during this whole extravaganza. He called me multiple times every day, offered to come to New York, and basically did the whole father thing to the absolute best of his ability. It did my heart really, really, really good.

I'm not going to make some big speech about how I feel obligated to make the most on this second chance at life. I had already made the decision to make drastic improvements on my life six months ago, when not having faced a life-threatening situation. And all the changes are probably the exact same changes I would probably make now.

But I remember thinking one thing very clearly, when I sat on my bed in the ER, freaking out because I thought my number was up. I remember thinking, 'But, I can't die. I've never been in love.'

I didn't think about kids. I didn't think about a missed opportunity to get married. I didn't even think about one particular person (although I dreamed about Oscar almost every single night that I was in the hospital).

I just thought, I want to have been touched by love before my time is up. I want to have loved someone with complete abandon.

Maybe its time for me to be more open.

Today's Title from: For Good by Kristen Chenoweth and Idina Menzel

Instead of makin' me better, you keep makin' me ill

2008-07-15T11:16:00.002-04:00

So, you haven't heard from me in a while, because, I've been in the hospital.

Settle yourself in, because this is a doozy of a story.

A few weeks ago I started to have a lot of trouble running. I couldn't breathe. I chalked it up to the sudden intense increase in humidity in New York City, the new bed bug treatments our apartment was receiving, and the just the natural ebb and flow of working out. I figured it would get better and I opted to just wait it out.

The breathing trouble did not get better and in fact, started to get worse. Instead of only having trouble when I was working out, I began to notice that stairs were getting progressively more and more difficult for me. I admitted to myself that this could be a problem that wasn't going to fix itself on its own and made an appointment with my primary care physician.

After examining me for a while, she sent me to the ER. In an ambulance.

The ambulance was not really necessary, but she wanted me to receive care immediately, and arrival by ambulance is the surest way to guarantee that.

Blood tests
Chest Ex-ray
EKG

I got asked the same questions over and over again. Do you smoke? NO. Are you on the pill? Yes. Have you noticed any pain or swelling in your calves and ankles? No. I knew what they were asking me the symptoms of.

Pulmonary Embolism. Or blood clots in the lungs in layman's terms. My dad had told me that's what he thought it was 3 days earlier when I had called him crying in frustration. I got off the phone with him and Karen and I had totally poo-pooed the idea. Blood clots? No way.

Blood tests revealed it was either blood clots or an infection in my heart. Either way, I was getting admitted. A cat scan would tell us which one it was.

The winner is: a cluster of blood clots in both lungs. Substantial in size.

And around 1 am last Thursday night, I was transported to my room in NYU Medical complete with a blood thinning drip IV, an oxygen mask, and a heart rate monitor.

I have been here for 5 days now.

The first day was filled with more tests. An echo of my heart revealed that the right side is weakened from the strain of the clots. Doppler tests (similar to an ultrasound) told me that my legs were clear of clots. Then I was approached by a woman doing a research study, asking me to participate.

The study: to find out of MRIs are better for detecting blood clots than cat scans.

All that would be required of me would be to have an MRI done of my lungs and thighs. Easy, right?

Um, not so much. I am INCREDIBLY claustrophobic and MRI machines are VERY narrow and small. The first time they sent me into the machine, I had a panic attack. But then I closed my eyes, really, really tight, and went back in, and somehow made it through the next half hour. The Frank Sinatra that they piped into my headphones helped tremendously.

Since the end of all the testing, I have just been hanging around in my room all day, every day, watching TV, reading, doing crossword puzzles, and praying to go home. I have had a consistent stream of visitors that have been bright, golden rays of sunshine.

Yesterday was the day that I lost my ability to cope with my situation and cried all morning. I begged my doctor to send me home. I attempted a compromise, and he informed me that he doesn't negotiate with terrorists. He likes to have fun with me because I'm his youngest patient by 20 years. In my current state, I do not enjoy this so much.

Tomorrow, I will almost definitely go home. My blood levels are getting closer to where my doctor wants them to be. And my elevated cardiac enzymes are going down, which means that my heart is getting healthier.

All in all, there were times when this was pretty scary. And I'm never going to be able to take the birth control pill for the rest of my life.

But do I feel pretty lucky that it was caught? Damn straight.

Today's Title from: Just Like a Pill by Pink

Take the pain out of love and then love won't exist

2008-07-08T01:44:00.002-04:00

I still miss you. Isn't that ridiculous? Its been 7 months since we last saw each other and 5 months since our last communication. And yet, lately its been fresh and raw all over again. The 1 step forward, 2 steps back rule has never come to life quite so much for me before you. My fingers itch to text you. The only thing that stops me is imagining how thoroughly you have probably moved on and that I can't imagine that you still even think of me.

Maybe its that I've shut myself off to other men since The End of Us. And I have no one else to think about. Maybe its that you're one of the very few men with whom I've had a physical and emotional relationship with. Maybe its that after 8 months, your touch still had the ability to make me absolutely sizzle. Maybe its that no one has even come close to capturing my heart since you. Maybe its that you were the first man in my life to fight for me over and over again.
Maybe its that I loved you.

Please. Please leave me forever. Let me finally find some peace.

Today's Title from: Everything We had by The Academy Is

We need to feel breathless with love, And not collapse under its weight

2008-07-06T11:14:00.003-04:00

I am in Baltimore. I came down for the weekend with a friend, who was attending a wedding.

Trips like these are always a learning experience for me and Karen, as we assess people outside of New York's reactions to us.

As we waited for our table at P.F. Chang's the other night (yes, I know its a chain restaurant, but we all love it and we don't have it in NYC), we found ourselves in conversation with a particularly witty and charming white bartender. Him and I sparred over the amount of alcohol in my drink, and when he said to me, "so, can I have your number?" I found myself completely flustered.

I literally spluttered, "But, I live in New York."

I was not particularly dying to give this man my number. Yes, he was funny, but I wasn't attracted to him in any way, shape or form. Just then I was saved by a vibrating call button. Our table was ready!!! I rushed away to the hostess station, eager to have avoided having to deal with whether or not to give this man my number.

However, he didn't charge us for our drinks. And we had bolted out of there so quickly, we had not been able to give him a tip. I sent my friend, Maria, back with my tip money and she returned telling me how he had told her how hot he thought I was and how he knows I live in New York, but its not that far away, etc, etc.

As she told me this, I found myself blushing. No one EVER tells my friends to tell me that they think I'm hot. This is not something that happens to me. I'm generally the one relaying that message to my friends.

I found myself deciding to take a chance. I went back up t the bar and gave him my number.

He texted me later that night, asking me if I was still out. I was not. I was passed out cold. I had a mental debate in my head all day the next day, did I text him back or not? At dinner, I decided that it couldn't hurt and we'd at least have someone fun to hang out with that knows the area. So, I texted him, letting him know we would be out that night and offering to meet up with him. He told us where he was, so we went to go find him.

We found him at a bar on the harbor. He was with a couple of other people. He was a complete and total douchebag to us. He completely ignored us and exchanged numbers with another girl that was there directly in front of me. Karen and I were horrified. He spent the entire time that we were there talking to other people, and despite an initial inquiry into what I was drinking, never once made an attempt to actually OBTAIN a drink for me.

After 20 minutes, Karen asked me if I was ready to go. Um, YES. I wanted to bolt out of there. Having not been attracted to him at all, I wasn't upset over having lost an opportunity. But I was FURIOUS that he had treated me SO badly.

We left. And I sent him a text, "Please lose my number. I've rarely been treated so rudely."

He sent me back a text message claiming not to know what I was talking about and declaring that he is not a mean person.

Whatevs. I didn't write back. I didn't care enough to.

But am I interested in taking a chance again? Not really? Would I like to retreat further into my shell? Absolutely.

Today's title from: It's beginning to Get to Me by Snow Patrol

And maybe someday we will meet, And maybe talk and not just speak

2008-06-30T22:53:00.002-04:00

At an official total weight loss of about 22 lbs to date, I've noticed a few things that I love about losing weight.

1. My clothes are decidedly looser and I can officially fit perfectly into the pants that I once pulled a muscle in my neck trying to squeeze my fat ass into.

2. The incredible shrinking waist. I've always been blessed with a weirdly small waist, which makes me about as hourglassy as a person can be. My waist is also the first place I start losing weight. Small becomes smaller. Its kinda nutty, but totally awesome to look at every time I take my shirt off.

3. The ability to fit into more seats on the subway. There is a game that everyone plays on the subway, the Does My Ass Fit Game. We assess a seat, our own ass size, the ass-size of the surrounding people, whether its the end seat or not and evaluate how desperately we want a seat (this sometimes will override any other factor) and then make a decision to sit or not. These days, I feel more confident about sitting in seats that I would have otherwise completely avoided.

4. Clearer skin. My skin is officially the clearest it has ever been in my life. I don't know if its the rampant exercise (yes, I still go to the gym about 3-4 times a week) or if its the more rationed consumption of fried foods, but its definitely, definitely noticeable.

Things I hate About Losing Weight
1. Looser clothes. Most of my pants now look like my "comfortable, baggy" pants. But I don't want to buy more clothes, because I don't plan on fitting into them in another 2-3 months. What's a fashionable girl to do????
_________________________________________________________________

I'm going to completely switch gears now. Sorry, if I give any of you whiplash.

This morning at 7:15, my doorbell rang. Terrified of what it would be, I staggered down our ridiculously long hallway. On the other side of my door was my favorite neighbor.

Her husband had died that morning.

We knew this was coming, and I had asked her to come by and let me/us know if she needed anything.

I took her in my arms and she just pleaded with me to come and visit her that night. To which of course I agreed.

Karen and I just returned from spending the evening with her. We laughed. We cried.

This comes in conjunction with some fairly intense recent sessions with my therapist. And I'm doing some pretty heavy thinking.

I find myself in an interesting position. I'm willing to admit that I would like to find love. As much as the idea of giving another person that much of myself terrifies and repulses me, somewhere deep inside I believe that the real thing would be worth it. The catch is- am I even capable of it?

I have a great capacity to love.

But I find that the longer I am delightfully single and drama-free, the less I am inclined to want to risk. And the stronger my walls become. I WANT to feel. I want to ache. I want to feel butterflies. But I also want to stay in my safe little cocoon of numbness. I want to allow myself to love someone so much, that to lose them would destroy me.

What's a single girl to do?

Today's Title from: Same Mistake by James Blunt

So, you stole my world

2008-06-25T12:18:00.003-04:00

So, I lead this weird kind of life where I vacillate wildly between amazing and god-awful rotten luck.

The Bed Bugs? God-Awful Rotten Luck.

The taping of The Colbert Report last night? Amazing luck.

When I first arrived, the people checking me in gave me a Klondike bar. I should have refused it, since they are 13 points!!! (BTW- total weight loss to date is 18 lbs). But I ate it anyway. Then, after a lengthy security process, we were scuttled into the studio. Before the actual taping of the show, Stephen Colbert does a Q&A with the audience.

I raised my hand.

Me: Stephen, did you enjoy the R.E.M. concert last week?
Stephen: Yes, yes I did. Were you there?
Me: I actually met you backstage.
Stephen: Oh? Did we make out?

Hahahahah. THAT was awesome.

What was even more awesome?

The guest..... was......

WILL SMITH

That is not a lie.

What is even more awesome than being within 20 feet of Will Smith?

He hugged me.

After he was done taping his interview with Stephen, he came over to the audience to shake people's hands.

Note, I said, SHAKE PEOPLE'S HANDS.

Did he shake my hand?

No. He gave ME a HUGE hug.

I floated on a Will Smith Shaped Cloud the entire way home. Once I got home, though, I had to put everything I own into plastic bags for the new exterminator coming today.

That, was not awesome. And will continue to not be awesome while everything I own remains in plastic bags for the next 5 weeks.

However, at the end of those 5 weeks, there should be NO bed bugs left. And then I will feel like I have the most amazing luck in the whole wide world.

Today's Title from: Best I Ever Had by Vertical Horizon

I will gather my wounds forge the end of tragic comedy

2008-06-24T00:07:00.002-04:00

"Why do you think that you will never find love?" she asked me.

"I'm fundamentally unlovable," I tell her, my canned answer, in complete belief that this statement is true.

"The problem," she says, "is not that you actually ARE unlovable, but that you BELIEVE you are unlovable."

And in one brief sentence my therapist has pinpointed the root of all of my problems. We have discussed my irrational sensitivity to rejection and abandonment and as a result, rarely allow myself to be vulnerable, but instead wield an almost impenetrable shield. She tells me that I'll never be able to BE vulnerable until I actually do it. She tells me that self-esteem comes from esteeming actions and behavior. She tells me that people will treat me however I let them.

She tells me to remind myself that I am lovable as often as I remember to, even when I don't feel it or believe it.

The path in front of me feels daunting. Its easier to be pessimistic about the future, to hide behind untruths about myself to avoid opening myself to hurt and rejection.

I hope.

I hope that I can believe in myself. I hope that I can have relationships where the smallest actions don't cause me to be seized with anxiety that someone isn't interested in being my friend anymore. I hope that I can stop being the ugly-duckling in my head.

I hope I can love myself enough to let someone else love me.

Today's Title from: Incomplete by Alanis Morissette

What a difference a day makes, Twenty-four little hours

2008-06-22T19:57:00.003-04:00

Okay, so my continual adamant insistence that I am NOT dating is getting old. So, from here on out, you can just assume that I am not dating unless I say otherwise.

My houseguests are gone!!!! I've had 5 days of not being able to be in my living room because it was infested with my semi-skeevy cousin and his masquerading-as-a-nice-guy friend, neither of whom are particularly tidy. And after the day that I had yesterday, I'm rather enjoying spending some quality time just lounging in my living room.

They day began at 8:00 am, when I met Spatch at the marina at the World Financial Center. We boarded a boat for a day of sailing, my birthday present to her. It was a perfect day, the sun was just hot enough and the wind was just cool enough. Both of us have been stressed beyond all reason for the last week, so this was exactly what both of us needed. After landing at our destination, we had lunch at a local seafood restaurant, then boarded the train to return to Manhattan.

Upon arriving home, my houseguests, my BFF Karen and other roommate all got ourselves gussied up before heading down to the Brooklyn Bridge. First we ate at my favorite pizza place, Grimaldi's before I walked them across the Brooklyn Bridge where everyone agreed that it was, in fact, a vastly superior experience at night as I had told them. Then we headed to the West Village where we wandered around for a while, showing them New York City nightlife. After about an hour of this, my cousin needed to head home to catch his flight, so Karen went with him, but his friend and I headed to the club where The DJ was spinning and my girl, Nicole was working. We shook our booties for a few additional hours before finally getting home around 4, when he needed to start getting ready to head to the airport. I should have been a good hostess and seen him out the door, but I needed sleep with a desperation beyond all comprehension. It had been a long week of not enough sleep, and my body had reached its breaking point.

I crawled into bed and slept until noon. Something I haven't done in probably years. Sleep has never, ever felt so good.

This week is looking much less busy, and I couldn't be happier.

Today's title from: What a Difference a Day Makes by Tony Bennett

I might've lived my life in a dream, but I swear this is real

2008-06-20T01:28:00.002-04:00

So, I have previously mentioned that I have a connection with the band, R.E.M. This connection landed me at a private party for said band at a Mario Batali restaurant and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame after party about a year and a half ago.

Having recently released an album, R.E.M. is on tour. I watched their concert at Jones Beach on Saturday from back stage and was privileged enough to hop a ride back into Manhattan with them in one of their tour buses. Tonight, I watched them at Madison Square Garden from the 5th row on the floor. To my left and a few rows back were Maggie Gyllenhaal with Peter Sarsgaard and to my right about 20-30 feet were the Olsen twins, acting like the most obnoxious, attention hungry brats in existence. The concert was amazing, even if they didn't play my favorite song, Nightswimming, despite my personal request to Peter Buck (lead guitarist).

As I walked from the floor to the V.I.P. area after the concert(did I mention my All Access pass?), I walked past One of My Obsessions.

When I love something, I tend to love it passionately.

And I love Stephen Colbert passionately.

I had heard earlier that he was on the guest list, but I didn't believe that I would be lucky enough to actually be in his presence. And yet. There he was. Talking to Susan Sarandon.

I waited and waited. I wanted to shake his hand. I wanted to tell him how much I worship him. I wanted to tell him that I actually have tickets to a taping on Tuesday, and could he maybe give me a shout out?

I did none of these things. I was a complete chicken. My friend that I was with had to instigate a conversation with him for me, and as I shook his hand, a million other people swooped in, stealing my moment. No conversation was had.

And yet, I shook his hand. I looked him in the eye.

I am complete.

Today's Title from: Leaving New York by R.E.M.

Just So Damn Tired

2008-06-16T22:36:00.002-04:00

I'm here! I'm alive!

The new job is going great. But its a much smaller company than my previous employer and I'm much more concerned about posting at work, so i haven't had as many opportunities to write as much as before. But I bought a new laptop last weekend, so now posting will be much more accessible and hopefully you will hear from me more!

My life seems to be a series of crises these days insterspersed with moments of pure undiluted joy. The legal battle with my apartment management company continues to rage, as well as additional battle that is brewing after they have done little to solve my 6 month bed bug problem. Apartment trouble occupies almost all of my thoughts and time. I'm gonna be honest, it exhausts me.

I'm also battling myself with a friendship issue. A friendship that I treasured is proving to be problematic and its hurting me. I am completely unclear about where to go with it from here and I'm praying for clarity that isn't coming.

No change in my relationship or dating status. I'm 5 months into my most successful break from all the bullshit. It still feels good and I'm not ready to end it yet, so I'll just continue to ride it out, I guess. My (completely fabulous) therapist is concerned about my complete lack of emotion where men are concerned and is thinking that we'll need to work on de-thawing my new-ish Ice Queen persona. But for the most part, I enjoy the numbness. I spent too many years feeling too much. Not feeling anything feels good. Damn good.

And that's about it. Not much else to report. I'm sorry, I'm ridiculously boring these days.

But I keep climbing and hoping things would change...

2008-06-03T19:37:00.002-04:00

Hey everybody!!!

The new job is great! I love it! Its easier, I'm getting paid a shitload more money with all the same benefits and they have FLAVORED coffee! Yesterday I had the hazelnut, today I tried the French Vanilla and tomorrow I think I'll try the Rainforest Something or Other. Plus my boss is awesome and totally lets me tease him.

Also, everyone at the company pronounces Hermes and Christian Louboutin correctly. Its LOVELY.

Honestly, there's almost nothing else going on in my life.

I am still not dating, despite the many attempts from gentlemen that I met when I went out with my girls on Saturday night. None could penetrate my facade of bitterness.

I am still working out like a crazy person (I have started spin classes. They are hard). And I am still on Weight Watchers and have lost 14 lbs total to date (only 36 more to reach my goal!). Today the online program gave me a little lecture for losing too much weight per week and advised me to lose weight more slowly.

Clearly Weight Watchers online does not understand my self-esteem issues and my manic desperation to not be The Fat Girl anymore.

All in all, I would say that I'm pretty damn happy and content these days. Is this karma finally paying me back for all the shit that I went through last year, or am I a few short moments away from everything completely falling to pieces? I'm going to believe the former, cause if there's one thing I am learning in therapy, its that perceptions and thoughts make a BIG difference in lifes outcomes and its time for me to start being POSITIVE!

Today's Title from: Moving Mountains by Usher

Suddenly there's nothing I need more

2008-05-29T17:07:00.000-04:00

Today is my last day.

Tomorrow is my first day.

And for as much as I’m enormously excited, I’m also very sad.

I started working at The Company 2 months after I moved to NYC on a temp assignment. Through a stroke of luck, I ended up getting hired on permanently and forever made my parents proud. The Company has been through some pretty difficult times in the last few years, and somehow I have made it through unscathed and constantly been moved to positions of more responsibility.

I can’t believe I’m leaving. I have defined myself with this job for so long, I feel like I’m losing a part of me.

I just have to keep remembering that something new and exciting and wonderful is just around the corner for me and in 6 months I will be ecstatic to have made this move.
Today's Title from: Complicated by Robin Thicke

Success is much of a choice, I'm high off life

2008-05-21T11:14:00.001-04:00

My life is in major upheaval right now.

Remember how I dubbed this, The Year of Me? Well, I wasn’t kidding around about that.

Last Friday, I gave my 2 weeks notice at the company that I have been employed at for the last 4.5 years.

Next Friday I start a new job. In fashion. The promised land. I’m so excited, I’m jumping out of my skin.

In the meantime, I’m saying a lot of goodbyes and preparing myself to leave something behind that has been an enormous part of my life for a long, long time.

Bear with me while I struggle through the next few weeks of major adjustments. I’m still here, just stressed.

Today's Title from: Have a Party by Mobb Deep

You're gone, you're gone, are you waiting for somethin?

2008-05-15T17:14:00.001-04:00

Dear Oscar,

I can’t remember the last time you didn’t have a hold over me. I don’t remember what its like not to ache for you. Not to miss you. You are my continual bruise, occasionally I just run my fingers over you, marveling over the depth of the injury, and sometimes I poke and prod, examining the layers of pain hiding underneath the surface.

Lately, I’ve been noticing that you, and please don’t be upset, but you’ve been fading. Its been an interesting journey, and there were moments when I wasn’t sure that I would ever feel whole again. Melodramatic, yes, I know, but it’s the god’s honest truth. I can listen to that song, the one that reminds me of you, without the accompanying searing pain in my chest. I pine for you only when I’ve been drinking heavily and that’s because I pine when I’m drunk, and you’re the easiest thing to pine for. There’s no more tears. Every day it gets easier and easier to NOT dial your number. There’s only a residual ache and a fondness for your face and that crook in your neck.

I hope you’re happy. I hope you find it within yourself to become the man I know you want to be.

Love,
Chloe

Today's Title from: So Long by Guster

You have come so far, You’ve got so far to go

2008-05-13T16:35:00.001-04:00

I have shin splints. It’s from the running. I’ve been running a lot. I’ve discovered a few secrets that I wish I had known the last few times in my life that I attempted to be a runner.

1. I cannot run every day. I absolutely must take a break in between running days. This has proven to be my most effective tool for not burning out with my running.

2. I have to eat within a few hours before I run. I cannot run on nothing. I’ve discovered that the best trick is these 100 calorie balance bars that I eat about a half an hour before I hit the gym. Perfection. Sustenance without being too much. Plus they’re only 2 points. HOT.

All total, I’ve lost 12 pounds. In 4 weeks. I’m ahead of myself to make my goal by December, but I figure its going to slow down at some point. Plus, I’m not going to have this level of will power forever. At some point I’m going to stop believing that Diet Coke is an acceptable alternative to a chocolate milkshake and that my movie theater popcorn is desperately in need of some butter.

Overall, things are going well. I’m seeing a new therapist that I adore and has declared herself to have great faith in me and is incredibly solution oriented. I like her spunk and her youthfulness and that I feel very safe with her.

However, I’m not going to lie. I’m in a bit of a rough patch. For one thing, I’m hungry all the time. ALL THE DAMN TIME. I feel like no matter how much I eat, I could still eat a TON more. Its unpleasant.

And there’s something else I can’t identify. I’m feel… unsettled. Almost all my thoughts these days are preoccupied with the idea of going on a date, holding a hand, or running my hand across a bare back. I long for a crush, SOMETHING to occupy my mind, so I’ll stop thinking about Oscar. In my head, I know I’m not really willing or ready to date at this point. The rest of me is aching for affection. It’ll pass, right? I just have to get through a few tough weeks, right?

Today's Title from: So Far to Go by J Dilla

Oh love, It will forsake you, Threaten to break you

2008-05-09T17:17:00.000-04:00

I have a confession to make. I’ve always hated Mariah Carey and her incredibly diva-ish ways. But, as I am reading this week’s People magazine, which is plastered with pictures of her “Secret Wedding”, I find myself feeling envious. That’s right, I’m jealous of Mariah Carey and not just because she dated Derek Jeter.

And no, I don’t want to be married after dating some ridiculous ladies man for 6 weeks. But, they both look so ridiculously happy.

I have never felt that way. I’ve never even felt a smidgen of that.

I am very quick to get on friends’ cases because they allow their relationships to take over their lives. I get mad at friends who suddenly disappear when in new relationships, pissed that they don’t make time for me. I’ve always deeply rebelled against the idea of letting a man/relationship become the focus of my entire life.

However, I have no frame of reference. Having never been hit by The Mac Truck of love/lust/infatuation, its easy to be on the other side, shouting, “you should be a better friend!” when its always been easy for me to maintain my friendships due to my own personal lack of involvement in my relationships.

Whenever friends ask me for advice on their relationships these days (which, strangely, is often), I am always happy to tell people what I think, but I always add this caveat-

“But, keep in mind, I have never been in a successful relationship.”

I mean, what do I know? Nothing, clearly. How do I know, that when/if this elusive emotion ever does come down the pipeline, that I won’t behave like everyone else? That I won’t forsake all friends/acquaintances to spend time with this mythical creature who adores me as much as I adore him?

I am getting antsy-ish, about my affectionless life. For the most part, I am content and totally fine with how things are right now. But, I have my moments (doesn’t everyone?) where I pine, I ache for a tender touch. I think, “maybe I’m ready to try something again”.

Then I remember- the disappointment, the sleepless nights, the searing pain, the mistrust, the tears, the pure unadulterated anxiety, and I think, “nah, I’m not ready to go down that road again just yet.”

And yet, I am still jealous of Mariah Carey.

Today's Title from: Thing About Love by Alicia Keys

And what do you want? I want to change

2008-05-08T15:08:00.000-04:00

I am deliriously tired.

Monday night was the last time that I had an hour to myself to just sit and chill. That’s right, Monday. That was 3 days ago.

Tuesday night- I met up with Spatch directly after work and the 2 of us hit the gym together, then headed out to Brooklyn for happy hour and dinner at the most delicious barbeque restaurant ever- Fette Sau. Mmmm. I just think of the pork and my taste buds immediately begin producing massive quantities of saliva. It was that good.

Last night- I trudged all the way out to Brooklyn again for a meet-and-greet that Dooce was doing at a bar in Prospect Heights. I got there, I saw the incredibly long line and how unbearably slow it was moving, just to shake someone’s hand who will never again remember me, and I immediately turned around and headed up to Harlem. Pissed that I just wasted an hour and a half. But glad, because now I was going to have time to go to the gym. WHO AM I? I am not a person who makes going to the gym a priority. I’m not going to lie to you- I’m a little scared of this New Me.

Side note- I went to Subway the other day. I got a turkey breast on honey oat, no cheese and fat-free honey-mustard instead of mayonnaise. Which was weird enough. THEN, and if you know me at all you will probably not believe this, as I stood at the register, I found myself asking for a combo (because I have been having MAD Diet Coke cravings) and asking the Register Man, “Can I have apples instead of chips?”

APPLES instead of DORITOS?!?!?!

I almost wept.

Anyhoo, last night, after an hour-ish at the gym, I dashed home, got together all my laundry, including the sheets and comforter from my bed and headed up to the Laundromat. The Exterminator had sprayed my room that morning, so washing at this point was imperative. (Yes, I still have bed bugs. Don’t even talk to me about it, because I will start crying). While my clothes washed, I ran back home and ate some dinner.

Around 11:30, I lugged it all back home, put my bed back together, put all my clean laundry into Bed-Bug Protective plastic bags, and then crashed.

Tonight, I am going to the gym, because today is a Run Day. And my training schedule requires at least a 20 minute run. Which I feasibly could have done on my lunch break, but I don’t like to sweat that much at lunch, so I went to a yoga class instead which actually was hard enough that I still ended up sweating too much. So, I’ll go run after work. But, I haven’t seen my friend, Betsy, in a while and I miss her. So I texted her last night to see if she wants to hit the gym with me, then grab dinner.

I did it to myself! I can’t even help myself!

And in the meantime, every single muscle in my body hurts.

Today's Title from: Bullet With Butterfly Wings by Smashing Pumpkins

It ain't hard to tell, I excel, then prevail

2008-05-06T17:50:00.000-04:00

Other than a few of the visits with my former therapist (starting with a new one tomorrow! So excited!), I can’t remember the last I had myself a good cry. Well, actually I can and it was the week after The DJ Debacle. Which was almost 4 months ago.

Four months since the lowest point I may have ever reached in my life. Four months since my relationships with Oscar and The DJ blew up simultaneously.

Destroying me.

So, I got off the horse.

And except for 2 unspectacular dates with The Trainer, I’ve stayed off the horse.

And it’s been the best 4 months of my life.

I’m busier than I’ve ever been. Ever.

I’m ridiculously content and just all around- HAPPY, which may be almost exclusively due to the working-out endorphins, since it has never been very long since my last gym visit.

And I don’t know if it’s because I’m so uninterested in dating that it emanates from me, but I’m definitely “OFF”. I NEVER get hit on anymore. The even weirder thing? It doesn’t really bother me. The less I have to deal with all the bullshit- the BETTER.

Something is different. And I can’t put my finger on it. I can’t identify it.

But I like it.

Today's Title from: It Ain't Hard to tell by Nas

The world is not your Oyster

2008-05-02T14:39:00.000-04:00

Dear Oyster Bar-

Wow. I hardly know where to begin You were something else last night.

First of all, your hostess. Is she always that rude? I recognize that you are in Grand Central and your restaurant is heavily populated by tourists and believe me, I KNOW how fun it is to be mean to tourists. But, I am not a tourist. Neither were either of my 2 friends. Don’t treat us like we’re insignificant. Kay? It pissed me off. Especially when only about 5 minutes after she told us it would be a 30 minute wait, she was screaming my friends name across the bar, as if we had somehow wronged her. Ugh. She was spectacularly unpleasant.

But, we were pleased to be seated earlier than anticipated after our extra hard workout, having attended a 30 min abs class after our usual hour in the dance class. We sat down, we excitedly discussed our options. Our bus boy was quite attentive with our water glasses and the bread bowl, while we waited for our waiter/waitress to show up. And waited. And waited. And waited.

We tried to flag down multiple other servers while growing more and more irate, asking them to please find out waiter and send him to us. Almost every single person we spoke to was rude, insisting that they weren’t out waiter and essentially being completely useless. It was HOT.

Finally, I took matters into my own hands. I found the restaurant manager and asked him to please send a server to our table. Immediately. Luckily for him, the manager was cute and both of my friends agreed that they would happily have sex with him (not me though. I’m not particularly partial to the white and skinny), so we did not unleash our wrath on his cute face.

And then, glory be, a WAITER arrived! He took our order! The heavens sang! My friends’ oysters arrived. And all was good in the world. Then, the empty oyster shells were taken away. And we eagerly anticipated our entrees. And waited. And waited. And waited. Meanwhile, drinking glass after glass of wine, because we had been promised comped drinks and dessert.

After waiting way too long, we saw a waiter approaching. We saw on his tray 2 lobsters and a covered dish. This HAD to be us! And it was! Yay! And then, my friends’ lobsters were COLD. COLD LOBSTER that should have just barely been pulled from The Steamer. My food wasn’t exactly on the hot side either, which means, it had been just sitting there forever. You guys really know how to treat your guests, don’t you?

And so, the lobsters went back while I dug into my spectacularly unremarkable shrimp that I was paying a totally unwarranted $27 for. That’s right. $27. For shrimp and some steamed veggies. Ahem. That’s highway robbery. Thanks.

By then, we had a designated waiter who was doing his absolute best to make up for the sins of his predecessors. He was great. If I ever go back, I will ask for him. However, I will never go back. EVER.

I don’t care that your pecan pie was delicious.

That was, hands down, one of the worst dining experiences I’ve ever had. It’s a good thing for you that Spatch and Ana are the exact friends that a person would want to be with when stuck in this situation.

Thanks for nothing.
Chloe

Go ahead lose yourself inside this opportunity

2008-05-01T09:06:00.000-04:00

So, as I’ve said in almost 100% of my last 10 posts, I’m kinda a busy girl. Especially these days. As the weather gets warmer, my social life tends to explode. Work has been hectic. And I’m trying to get in as much gym time as possible. I’m not going to lie. It can be… overwhelming.

Let me help you to understand what I’m talking about.

Last night, at the beginning of the day, my only plan was to hit the gym and head home after work. For my 5K training, I had to get in at least 20 minutes of running. By later that afternoon, I’d added dinner with Spatch to celebrate her last day at her job before she begins an amazing new job with lobsters at Essex House after the gym at 7:30.

At dinner, I asked her if she wanted to go to Trader Joe’s with me. I’ve been devouring this website recently, www.hungry-girl.com, and they had strongly endorsed the Trader Joe’s 100 calorie chocolate bars. And trust me, I am a girl who needs her chocolate fix. So after dinner, we headed up to Union Square, where we meandered around Trader Joe’s for a while, only to be incredibly disappointed because the 100 calorie chocolate bars were all out of stock. L

As I walked out of Trader Joe’s, Nicole called, wanting me to meet her uptown. So, I took my multitude of bags and hit the uptown A train. After spending about an hour with Nicole at our favorite local hangout spot, I heard from Betsy, who I haven’t been able to see much of lately, wanting me to meet her and her roommate at another nearby restaurant. It’s about 10:45 at this point.

I jump into a cab and meet Betsy and her roommate for a few very quick (and very tiny) bites of cheesecake.

Around midnight, I crash (literally) into bed.

And somehow, I managed to stay within my points. God, I love Weight Watchers.

Did I mention I’ve lost 7 pounds?

Today's Title from: Work it Out by Jurassic 5

I hurt myself today, To see if I still feel

2008-04-24T16:58:00.000-04:00

So, before My Great Life Upheaval, I would write my posts while munching on whatever incredibly unhealthy food I had opted to eat for lunch that day, generally involving French fries, of course.

Since joining Weight Watchers and developing a fanatical obsession with not being The Fat Girl anymore, my lunch breaks are generally spent at the gym. Occasionally on The Elliptical, or the The Weird Machine That Pretends Its an Elliptical but its NOT. But at least twice a week, I am at a Yoga or Pilates class. Now, I think that Pilates is universally acknowledged as hard-ish. And depending on your instructor it can be OUTRAGEOUSLY hard, or just mildly painful, but either way, I always end up holding my sides when I laugh or cough for days after to try and ebb the pain.

Yoga, however, I thought was for pansies. That’s right, I said it. Pansies. I imagined a lot of deep breathing (which there is) and basically just stretching movements. And since I was a gymnast for 10ish years when I was younger, I figured I could Ohm with the best of them. Um, NOT so much. It was harder than I expected and there were positions that even I’ve never tried before (wink, wink, nudge, nudge) and that made me more than a little uncomfortable.

So, I apologize that my posting has been fewer and far betweener. But I also am living the most utterly boring life imaginable these days. I continue to not date and enjoy my solitary state, although I do often dream of long, slow kisses (jonathan?!?!) and hand-holding. Although, I feel that my life should be completely bed-bug free before I begin a new relationship and judging by the last 4 months, it could very well another 12.

Today's Title from: Hurt by Nine Inch Nails

A new way to play, a new way a livin'

2008-04-21T17:29:00.000-04:00

According to my training schedule, I’m supposed to run for about 15 minutes today. I’m not going to. My lower back is KILLING me (the curse of big breasts). Plus, I did my big run yesterday (I was supposed to do it on Saturday, but on Saturday I was recovering from Friday), and there should be a day of rest in between runs. AND I like to have at least 45 minutes of cardio on my gym days, so I went to the gym to on my lunch break to squeeze in 20ish minutes on the elliptical, and I ended up on the weirdest machine that is masquerading as an elliptical, but was WAY harder than an elliptical. It was a half stairmaster-half elliptical. And it was FUNKY. But I kept at it, only to find myself sweating like a frigging demon after 20 minutes, which was not what I had planned. I had to go back to work after that! It was not pleasant.

All in all, this new plan seems to be working. I spend so much time fretting about eating too many points, that I often end up eating not enough points. Except for Friday night, when KingBob was in town and I convinced him to have dinner with me and Spatch at Amy Ruth’s.

Guess what his first words were to me?

“Wow! You DO look like Britney Spears!”

Son of a bitch!

He’s lucky that the prospect of fried shrimp and waffles was enough to keep me in good humor.

But all in all, it was an incredibly fabulous, Spatch-tastic weekend. Even though my lower back may never forgive me.

As a side note, my mother has begun texting me. It cracks me up every single time. They are always short, perfectly spelled and filled with exclamation points. I know what she’s doing and it fills me with warmth all the way down to my toes. She’s trying desperately for the 2 of us to be closer. I stopped telling her a lot of things about my life awhile ago, because I knew it would hard for her to hear them and I recently learned that she’d rather know than not know. So, we are having more random chit chats. More texting.

Its cute.

Today's Title from: New World by Nas

Hope dangles on a string, Like slow spinning redemption

2008-04-18T17:36:00.000-04:00

Current mood: deliriously happy

And I don’t have a good solid reason for it.

It’s about the incredibly awesome lunch that I just had, that I can’t talk about just yet, but if everything pans out as I want it to, you’ll hear all about it, I promise.

It’s about the mahi-mahi that I had for dinner last night. Why am I excited about mahi-mahi? Because, I was at Cafeteria with Spatch and Ana after the 3 of us had attended a totally kick-ass gym class. Cafeteria has deliciously good food. Mac n’ cheese. Fried chicken. Mashed potatoes. Incredibly tempting items for a foodie such as myself. Under normal circumstances, I would have eaten the bread provided. I would have ordered the fried chicken. And I would have had more than one bellini. Instead, I did not eat the bread. I ordered the grilled mahi-mahi with avocado and mango salsa, and I had ONE bellini. And I loved it. It was one of the most delicious things I have ever eaten.

Its about the endorphins from all the gym time I’ve been putting in.

Its about my plans to eat at my FAVORITE restaurant, Amy Ruth’s tonight. And because I have managed my week really well so far, I can have fried shrimp. And sweet iced tea. Mmmmmm.

Its about a fairly empty weekend in front of me that I am going to enjoy endlessly after a full week of almost nonstop activity.

Today's Title from: Vindicated by Dashboard Confessional

You wanna change things up, well hey just get set

2008-04-15T14:58:00.000-04:00

So, its kinda a big day for me.

I fired my therapist and started calling around for a new one. I feel bad and am worried that I hurt her feelings, but… I don’t like her. I don’t feel safe with her and she’s a little older and a little fuddy-duddy and I have a really difficult time discussing sex with her. It just feels weird and awkward. And sex is one of my biggest issues. Obviously. (BTW- the hot guy that I met last week? Biggest douchebag I’ve ever met. I’ve already gotten rid of him completely. I don’t care if he does drive a 500 series BMW. And no, I did not sleep with him).

Also, I joined Weight Watchers. Every time I’ve stepped on the scale lately, I’ve been hoping for some sort of miracle and well, just not seeing it. And it’s a FRIGHTENING number, which I will not reveal. Plus, I got a good solid look at myself in the mirror at the gym last night, and well, I recoiled in horror. Spatch and I have decided to brave it together, because I am the type of person who does much better with The Buddy System. This means curbing my voracious hunger for soul food these days. I suppose I’ll have to find something that makes me happier than chicken and waffles. Although I can’t even begin to imagine what that would be.

Seriously- by the time I turn 31, just you wait, I’m going to be a completely different person.

Today's Title from: Its Time to Build by The Beastie Boys

For every piece of me that wants you, Another piece backs away

2008-04-11T13:41:00.000-04:00

So, every now and then I manage to truly surprise myself at my ability to pull outrageously hot men.

Case Study #635

Last night. I met my absolutely awesome friend, Betsy, for dinner at a restaurant in Harlem. The two of us are determined to find every decent restaurant in our neighborhood. Anyhoo, last night, we hit The Den. A delightfully cozy little restaurant on 5th ave that serves hot music and soul food with awesome names like Not Yo Mama’s Chicken and Waffles. Which was delicious.

So Betsy and I are eating, having a semi-serious discussion, and I am only mildly distracted by the constant stream of hot men entering through the front door. One in particular really catches my eye and Betsy has to ask me to focus multiple times as I ogle unashamedly. He’s just… beautiful. I knew it the minute he noticed me. I saw the double take out of my peripheral. It was everything I could do not to give myself a champion’s hurrah right then and there. Instead, I played the game with him where we surreptitiously look at each other constantly, for about 20 minutes.

Apparently, he tired of this game. And came over and asked if he could join us. We were basically done eating at this point and just chatting over the rest of our drinks. We agreed. He sat. I was so flustered, I could barely manage to form coherent words to come out of my mouth. And the first time I touched his arm, holy shit, I sizzled all the way down to my toes.

After him and Betsy argued heatedly for about an hour, while I sat and watched in bemusement, we all decided it was time to go home. Betsy lived a few blocks away, so she opted to walk. I lived much farther. He offered me a ride. I accepted.

He pulled up in front of my house and didn’t seem inclined to make any sort of move at all, except ask me if I was going to invite him up.

I sort of laughed/snorted out an emphatic, “No.” (Despite every single nerve ending in my body begging me to say ‘yes!’)

So he asked me for my number. I gave it.

Then, I couldn’t even help myself. I HAD to kiss this man. I leaned across the car and planted one on him.

Ah. The sweet smell of victory.

Today's Title from: You Give Me Something by James Morrison

But yo I need some sort of love in my life, you dig me

2008-04-09T15:44:00.000-04:00

Hello! I’m here! I’m alive!

I’m just tired, and battling a migraine. Last night I returned to NYC after a few days at home with the fam, for my mom’s 60th birthday. The migraine began the night I decided to crash on my brother’s sofa. And intensified on my flight to Chicago (where I had a layover) last night, which was complete with a great deal of turbulence and an extra hour’s worth of circling the airport.

I actually shed a few tears as the second leg of my flight landed at LaGuardia about 15 minutes early. I was HOME. And I walked out of the airport, immediately onto an M60, the lovely bus that takes me almost all the way home in under a half an hour.

And honestly, my life is pretty damn boring these days. I’m ridiculously busy and ridiculously stressed about work. I honestly can’t believe I made it to the end of last week still employed.

I’m still not dating and still absolutely LOVING my alone time.

Yesterday was Spatch’s birthday, so tonight I am taking her out to a new fondue place.

I am attempting to eat healthier, although I still cannot walk out of Duane Reade without a bag of some form of junk food.

I am still in therapy, and can definitely see differences in myself. Let me give you an example.

Even in non-dating times, there have always been men in my phone book who pop-up every now and then pretending to be interested in my life under the guise of wanting to ‘hook-up’. Cam. Mr. Wrong. Jay (my ridiculously hot neighbor). Generally, I will agree to see them. Especially when someone is as persistent as Mr. Wrong tends to be. (Yes, I realize this bullshit has been going on for about 3 years now). Partly because I have a ridiculously high sex drive and partly because it’s been a form of validation for me.

Side note: Mr. Wrong has actually been an incredibly interesting case study for me. Back when we were first ‘involved’, and I was desperately in love with him, he treated me fairly indifferently, only answering my texts/calls to him occasionally, and definitely treating me like garbage all around. Then something fairly major happened one night, and I stopped speaking to him. Almost immediately, the whole relationship flipped. He called me with a great deal more frequency (sometimes 10ish times a night), despite my stalwart refusal to talk to him. After about a year of ignoring him, I eventually gave in again and agreed to see him. But even then, I maintained the upper hand. I would agree to see him, then string him along all night, and then end up ditching him. All sorts of really evil things. And I knew I was being evil. And I absolutely didn’t care. This only went on for a few months, before I got tired of it again, and stopped seeing him at all.

He still calls, almost every weekend. And texts me constantly.

And, I have learned the value in playing hard to get.

Anyhoo- back to what I was saying. I had a few booty calls in my back pocket.

I’ve gotten rid of all of them. And it feels pretty damn good. I actually got into a big argument with Cam about it, who could not comprehend why I wouldn’t see him anymore.

It’s because, at heart, I am a relationship girl. If I’m sleeping with you, I want to be the ONLY person you’re sleeping with. I want to leave a toothbrush at your place. I want you to call me your girlfriend. Not your ‘girl’, not your ‘shorty’. Your GIRLFRIEND. I have to be true to me and what I want. And I do not want to be your girl of convenience. I want to be your everything.

So take your casual sex and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine.

This shop is closed.

Today's Title from: You Got Me by The Roots

These things, they go away, Replaced by everyday

2008-03-31T14:36:00.001-04:00

I think about you often these days. It makes sense, I mean, we talk about you and our dysfunction in therapy frequently. Even on my best days- you are the subject that always makes me break down. And it takes me by surprise every time. Especially the first time, when she asked about my most recent relationship. All I said was your name. I immediately felt as if someone had poured a bucket of pain all over me and pretty soon, I was sobbing.

I don’t know why it STILL hurts so much. Was it that you cared so little? Or that I cared so much.

You are never far from my thoughts. Even at times when there’s no way I should be thinking of you. Like Saturday night, when Nicole and I met up with some boys that she knows at that ‘club’ in Queens. It reminded me of the night of one of your boys’ bachelor party, when you were texting me all night, then came to get me on your way home, even though it was 5 am. And here I was, at this ‘club’, being hit on by 2 of the hottest men I have seen in a long time, and I’m wishing I’m with you instead.

To the point that I almost called you as I poured myself into bed around 5 am. Luckily, Nicole called to have a heart to heart about our friendship and by the time we hung up, I was so tired, I could barely form coherent sentences. I fell asleep thinking of my favorite things about you, not the unbearably hot man that had taken my number earlier. I thought of the laugh lines around your mouth. Your funny walk. The crook of your neck. I thought about how tightly you would hold me in the mornings. And how you always, always called me on my bullshit.

Hope is the theme for my life these days. Learning to let it back in. Not to let my cynicism become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I hope that someday, I will be over you.

Today's Title from: Nightswimming by REM

It could be sweet, Like a long forgotten dream

2008-03-26T14:59:00.000-04:00

HI! I’m here! I’m just busy.

Like ridiculously busy.

Busy in the normal, routine sense.

And also busy in the abstract sense.

I decided that this year is going to be MY year. Its going to be the year that I get my life in order.

I’m going to get my life in order in the mental/emotional sense. I started seeing a psychologist about a month ago, and already, myself and other people see changes. I’m not necessarily hearing anything I haven’t heard/already thought before, but maybe it’s the way that its coming from her, that the point is being driven home.

I.E. Men will never respect me when I don’t demonstrate that I respect myself.

Its hard. And I cry; every single week. Sometimes great big heaving sobs, like when I told her all about the 6 month time period when I attempted living with my dad, because he asked me to, and how it ultimately affected me and my mom. And how to this day, the day that I moved back to my mom’s house is the Single Worst Day of My Life. Followed closely by the day that I left my host mom in Russia.

I’m not dating for now. And except for the minor setback that was The Trainer, I’ve stayed pretty true to that since late January after The DJ Debacle. I’ve purged my life of all men who randomly pop up occasionally. For the first time in my life, I’m insulted by their inquiries to ‘come through’ instead of flattered. The half-assed attention that I get from these losers isn’t even remotely appealing to me anymore. And that feels pretty damn good.

I’m getting my life in order financially. I started seeing a financial advisor who is going to help me start setting myself up for retirement and allow me to enjoy New York, without living paycheck to paycheck and constantly feeling broke like I do now. It’s the number one reason that I don’t sleep at night. And its unpleasant. I’m absolutely terrible with money and at 30, this shit needs to stop.

I’d like to say that I’m also going to get my life in order physically, but honestly, this is the area where I have the LEAST amount of motivation. I’d like to be the kind of person who goes to the gym for at least 45 minutes everyday, and I’d like to lose a significant amount of weight (although managing to keep a relatively fat ass at the same time), but being a lazy Foodie completely works against me in this scenario. I’m working on it. I need a gym buddy. And I need to eat at home a lot more often (which will be healthier and better for my budget!)

But, like I said, I’m a busy girl. I won’t go into the specifics of my weekend, because its gets boring after a while. But needless to say, it was FULL and completely awesome.

Today's Title from: It Could Be Sweet by Portishead

But somethin' means nothin' if ya people still wantin'

2008-03-20T10:39:00.002-04:00

There are some universal truths that I like to live my life by.

1. There can never be enough sugar in my coffee/tea. I am a complete sugar junkie and I cannot deny it.
2. As told to me by a friend as a quote by Maya Angelou- When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.

This second one has been a hard-hitting truth recently. Hands down, my biggest flaw is my steadfast belief in the goodness of everyone. I give everyone the benefit of the doubt, and consequently too many chances.

And proceed to get stood up, again. And again.

I didn’t write any more about The Trainer, for a few different reasons. Mainly, that I made such a big stink about him, that I couldn’t very well admit to seeing him again. I felt shameful. Also, I think that writing every detail about these ridiculous relationships leads me to be even more excessively analytical than I am naturally (I know, is that even possible?) and I’m trying to be more of a Just-Let-Things-Happen Girl.

Luckily, part of growing up is learning from your mistakes. And instead of letting myself remain in a relationship with someone for 6-8 months (Oscar?) despite the constant presence of red flags, I took the reins last night after the 3rd (yes 3rd! I’m an IDIOT!) incidence of complete disappearance by The Trainer, I left this message:

Hi Trainer, it’s Chloe. I don’t really understand what game you’re playing here, but I don’t want to play it anymore. Thank you very much for making me dinner last night, it was delicious, but I absolutely cannot continue to date someone who so consistently lets me down.

I’m not heartbroken, as luckily I kept my emotions completely in check, despite his excessive effusiveness of emotion (You’re so beautiful! I don’t want to lose you! I’m falling for you!). Although I am sad to lose those unbelievable tatted up arms. Mmmmmm.

Today's Title from: If You Only Knew by Jurassic 5

I like your get up if you know what I mean

2008-03-19T17:49:00.009-04:00

I have mentioned that my favorite designer is Michael Kors, yes? (I also really like Carolina Herrera, but Renee Zellweger is determined to ruin her for me) He uses a little too much fur (I am anti-fur) and gold metal accents for my personal tastes, but generally, I find his stuff to be incredibly chic and clean. For reasons that I will not disclose, I am often allowed to participate in sample sales at his corporate offices here in The Big Apple.

Now. Prepared to be jealous, bitches. I bought these shoes today. For $10.

Obviously- my camera phone sucks. And you are getting insight into exactly how messy my desk is. But aren't these delicious? 4 inch heels. Pink Metallic. Potentially better than sex.

And while we're on the topic. I recently purchased these shoes.

Now, they are not Michael Kors (Anne Klein!). And I paid significantly more than $10 for them at a shoe boutique just outside my office. However- I paid considerably less than what they are selling them for on Zappos.

Which is awesome.

And I must also say that, this picture absolutely does not do them justice. They are 100% Sexy-Librarian-Fuck-Me Heels.

Who needs a man when there's SHOES to be had?!?!?

Today's Title from: This is Hardcore by Pulp

So we can just celebrate there's no more pain

2008-03-17T11:39:00.000-04:00

Dear Weekend-

Wow. You, were awesome. Seriously, I know I may have complained about you a few times, due to the extreme busy-ness that had me running around like a crazy person from the second I left work on Friday until I collapsed on my couch after dinner last night. But I will always remember you very, very fondly.

Friday night was probably the best part of you. The dinner at Yuca Bar in the E. Village with Ana, Ben and other friends was delicious. Then glamming it up in the bathroom of that weird club in Brooklyn, where Ana covered me with glitter and blinky lights was a first for me that I really enjoyed. Then- the party, filled to the gills with the most strangely dressed people I have ever seen. And I got to dance- dance in the middle of the dance floor, not giving a shit about who was watching and maybe for the first time in my life, enjoying myself some techno. Please don’t tell Email Boy, Weekend, I’ll never live it down.

After leaving the party, why did you let me harass the cab driver so? Granted, it was enormously fun to forbid to give him my number citing his terrible driving as my reason, but still, he probably didn’t deserve my an entire cab ride of my semi-drunk antics.

Weekend, I think the best line of the weekend came the next morning, as Ana and I painted her room/office in her new apartment.

Me: Ana, you’re painting past the tape.
Ana: Chloe, how do I stop painting past the tape?
Me: Maybe stop painting like a crazy person.

I was sad to leave my friends and their ridiculously cozy apartment, but you had other plans for me. Brunch and an afternoon movie with my BFF, Karen. Maybe next time, try not to make the both of us so unbearably tired that we struggle to stay awake during the movie. Once finally, ensconsed back in my apartment after the movie, my plan was to take it as easy as possible until it was late enough for me to go to bed without shame. But Weekend, you clearly knew what was best for me when you sent me a dinner invitation from Nicole, that included just enough wine that when I finally did make it into my bed, I was OUT. It was beautiful, that night of sleep.

That, unfortunately, didn’t last long enough. The next morning, you had my alarm wake up me up at 9 am. 9 am! On a Sunday! To go to church! In Queens! Queens!!! Which actually was quite nice. I am really enjoying this new church, and its wonderful accepting attitude towards everyone and everything, even if some things there take a little more getting used to, like the people who dance at the front of the room.

After church, Nicole and I got to have lunch at Wendys. Thank you, dear Weekend, for sending me some Wendy’s. I love Wendy’s. I’d also like to thank you, Weekend, for that break that I got between church and dinner, when I went home and crashed for about an hour. An hour of desperately needed sleep. Sleep which helped me to be on my most charming and delightful behavior for dinner at Artisanal with Spatch and her parents last night. Which was delicious and very, very interesting.

Then, weekend, you finally let me rest. Unfortunately, you wouldn’t let me go to sleep. You had me tossing and turning until way past 1 am. And now I am outrageously tired. Thanks for that.

Anyhoo. You were fantastic. Really.

Smooches-
Chloe

Today's Title from: Live it Up by John Legend

The sun doesn't like you, you always get burned

2008-03-10T13:55:00.000-04:00

Dear Chipotle-

It cannot be denied. I love you. I love your chips with just the right hint of lime and the extreme crunchiness of your tacos. And I cannot stay away, as I walk past you, the scent of goodness draws me in. Now, it also cannot be denied that you rarely taste as good as you smell, a trait you share with another favorite place of mine, Subway, but you are still a bundle of deliciousness.

But. Let’s talk tacos. Now, I understand how hectic it must be for y’all in there between 12 and 2 pm. I see the lines that come out the door. Its insanity, as only a restaurant in midtown of New York City during lunch hour could be. However, my tacos, they are spectacularly uneven due to the application of such adornments as sour cream, cheese and lettuce. The middle taco gets its all. The side tacos are the ugly red-headed stepchildren who cry for a just a few crumbs of cheese. And, the to-go method for the tacos doesn’t work. Those sad, sad side tacos always end up broken due to the lack of the proper amount of protection. Maybe a box, instead of some hastily wrapped tin foil would solve the problem?

If you could look into this, I’d appreciate it.

In the meantime, thank you for your contributions to my taste buds. They greatly appreciate it.

Smooches-
Chloe

Dear Bed Bugs-

You think you’re so sneaky, with the tiny bites in random places only every couple of nights. Don’t think I don’t see them. Don’t think I don’t know how close I am to being rid of you forever. And don’t think you can escape. The exterminator is coming again.

Be prepared-
Chloe

Dear Life-

You still suck. Remember how I went all the way down to E. 29th street for the fucking lumber? Then got home and it was a fraction of an inch too long for my bed frame? How you laughed yourself silly, I imagine. Well, did you see, how I got the better of that bad karma, bought myself a hand saw and fixed the problem myself? I hope you know that I may be down; very, very down at that, but I’m not out. I will prevail.

Smooches-
Chloe

Today's Title from: The Sun Doesn't Like You by Norah Jones

It's not that we're scared, It's just that it's delicate

2008-03-07T17:24:00.000-05:00

Dear Bed Bugs-

Thank you for not biting me for the last 2 nights. I hope this means you are gone forever. Just to be sure, the exterminator is coming again next week.

See ya later suckas!
Chloe

Dear Life-

You suck. How ‘bout finding me a good solid reason to get out of bed in the morning. Mashed potatoes don’t count as a good enough reason.

Thanks-
Chloe

Dear Lady at Hardware Store-

Against my personal principles, I’ll be coming in tomorrow. I need the lumber more than I need to boycott your ugly-ass face. Try not to be wearing you’re grumpy boots.

Smooches-
Chloe

Today's Title from: Delicate by Damien Rice

They fight and bite and fight!

2008-03-05T15:39:00.002-05:00

Dear Lady at the Hardware Store Last Night-

I came to you after a trek to the upper east side Home Depot, where I learned that Home Depot’s in Manhattan will not cut lumber for you, yet another joy of living in Manhattan. They referred me to one of your associates there to get my lumber. Now, my need for lumber probably seems insignificant to you. I only need four 60” slats to go on my bed frame, so my mattress will stop sinking into the holes between the metal slats of the frame. It makes sleeping difficult and my back is always hurting these days. I know, I know, a box spring would solve my problem.

Well, super bitchy lady who made me cry last night, I don’t have a box spring. I had to throw mine out. Why did I throw my box spring out? Two words. Two words that are guaranteed to strike fear into the heart of any New Yorker.

Bed bugs.

These two words are the source of the immense amount of personal angst that I am currently going through. Every day when I wake up, I feel less and less equipped to deal with the stress of this problem. I’ve cleaned out my room thoroughly. I threw away my box spring and my rug. I have learned to put away every single piece of clothing after I’m done with it, and have sealed laundry into plastic bags. I’ve never been so tidy in my entire life. I’m washing my sheets at least once a week.

And yet, I am still waking up with new bites, every single morning.

I have cried. I have screamed in frustration. I have to wear long sleeves all the time, so people won’t ask what’s wrong with my arm. I haven’t gotten a pedicure in months because I am embarrassed at what my feet and ankles look like.

And I itch, all the god-damn time.

So please, before opting for uber-bitchy route to random unsuspecting customer who comes to your store, and may be dealing with some issues that make them a little sensitive and on edge, could you maybe be a little less rough and abrasive, and give them 30 seconds of your undivided attention to tell them when the fuck Juan will be in to cut them some damn lumber?

Thanks-
Chloe

Dear Pandora,

Please stop playing so much Jack Johnson and Jimmy Eat World. I said I liked them. I didn't say I want to drown myself in them.

Thanks!
Chloe

Dear New Office Mate-

You. Are. Awesome.

Smooches-
Chloe

Today's Title from: The Itchy and Scratchy Show Theme Song

You can bring me flowers baby

2008-02-27T14:04:00.001-05:00

Yesterday was a big day for me. My seniority at my current place of employment plus a newly available office (remember those layoffs that I told you about?) equaled me finally graduating from cube-land to a beautiful new office complete with large windows facing another office. My darling friend, Ana, was ecstatic about the possibility of ‘windows’ but I assured her that I see nothing but directly into the offices across from me and its going to stay fairly boring unless they start throwing wild sex parties. She suggested I get the whole thing going by having MY OWN wild sex party, so if anyone’s interested in joining in the fun- give me a holler.

Having an office is a wonderful new world. I can pick my nose to my heart’s content. I can readjust my undergarments. I can eat McDonald’s without feeling guilty under the prying eyes of my ridiculously health conscious department. When someone I don’t like is calling, I can give my phone the finger.

And… I can listen to music. I always listen to music whenever I need to concentrate. Back in cube-land this meant listening to my iPod, but this caused multiple problems when people would attempt to converse with me, not seeing the headphones in my ears, and I wouldn’t respond and thus we all looked stupid.

Now, I am listening to Pandora. A lovely web-site where a person can plug in their musical tastes and Pandora will play music that matches. Sometimes Pandora is a genius, like when they played Karma Police by Radiohead earlier, and I got to have a lovely 5 minute moment of nostalgia for that time in college when I was obsessed with OK Computer (yes, I was a little late for the Radiohead bandwagon, but I GOT ON!) But sometimes Pandora sucks donkeys. Apparently something about my musical tastes causes Pandora to think I will like ridiculously sad emo songs where some nutjob chants “breaking my fall” for essentially the entire song. Thom Yorke this man is not. Maybe I should delete that I enjoy David Gray to stop the parade of depression causing emo songs.

Especially since I also had my first appointment with a therapist yesterday and she diagnosed me with 'mild depression'. That crazy bitch. And this after she said, "Wow, you have a complicated background!"

No shit, lady. That's why I'm here.

Today's Title from: You Can Bring Me Flowers by Ray LaMontagne

When there's nothing worth running for

2008-02-25T12:14:00.001-05:00

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a man who claims to not play games will inevitably, play games.

I debated long and hard about whether or not to call Ted the Trainer. I am inherently leery of personal trainers as they generally tend to be players (no offense intended to any personal trainers out there, this is just something that I have found to be true here in NYC, but there are exceptions to every rule). So, I called on Wednesday, a few days after our initial encounter. He was pleased to hear from me and claimed to have been “waiting for my call”.

I told him I’d like to take him up on his offer of training, but warned him that I was suffering from an ankle injury and wouldn’t be able to work out for about a week or so. He offered to meet for lunch the next day so we could discuss things and he could take a look at my ankle.

The next day, he came and met me at my office and we discussed my ankle. He gave me tips on how to help it heal and offered to buy me bandages and massage it for me. I believe his words were, “I’ll take care of you.”

He asked me out. For that night. Then for the next day at lunch. And didn’t stop until he found a time when I wasn’t previously engaged. Saturday night was agreed upon and he said he would call around 2:00 and told me to keep the night open for him.

He also told me I had beautiful lips and beautiful features. He was intense about me in a way that I haven’t seen in a while, and I will admit that it turned my head.

Friday I received a text from him, asking about the ankle and letting me know he was thinking about me.

I haven’t heard a word from him since.

Which I actually predicted would happen, but everyone else was convinced it would be otherwise. To this, I say: Tsk, Tsk. Surely all y’all should have realized that I am the biggest douchebag magnet on the planet.

Yesterday I was at lunch with Nicole and one of her relatively attractive friends, Martin. When I made a moderately dirty joke, he turned to me and said, “You’re my kind of girl.”

I replied by saying, “Eh. They all say that. Chances are you’re going to be a complete douchebag, so don’t waste my time.”

And the train has officially pulled into Bitter Central. Welcome, friends.

Today's Title from: When Your Mind's Made Up by The Frames

Some some some I some I murder

2008-02-20T11:32:00.000-05:00

Dear Man at the Bottom of the Stairs on the D Train Platform at the 145th street Station This Morning-

I realize that due to the nature of the arrivals of the express trains, sometimes people take either the A or the D train, depending on which comes first. Me, I always take the D. But that’s cause I hate transferring and the D takes me exactly where I need to go, generally at a very swift pace and I can often get myself a seat by the time my train hits 59th street.

I saw you, as I was coming down the stairs this morning, debating about which platform to stand on. I knew what was going on in your head. I should have been more prepared for your sheer idiocy. However, too many things happened at once. Just as I arrived at the bottom of the stairs, a B train had just pulled in, leaving masses of people swarming the stairs. Your confusion increased. You decided you want the A right as I stepped down the last few steps- and well, it can’t be denied, you completely knocked me over. I fell, a step or two and twisted my ankle.

Sir, have you ever twisted your ankle? The pain? It’s excruciating. I’ve done this multiple times. And I generally have to sit for a spell, while I wait for the initial waves to subside and to ensure I have not broken any bones. This morning’s accident was particularly painful, as you should have assessed by the sharp cry of pain that emitted from my mouth and the tears that immediately began falling. I sat down on the steps of the subway. This is how much pain I was in. The stairs in the subway are NASTY. I shudder, even now, to think of what my ass was touching.

You asked me, “Are you okay?”

I replied, very honestly, “I don’t know.”

You proceeded to head up the stairs to the A train. I guess where you had to be was more important than assuring the safety of someone you had just seriously wounded.

Sir, I’m not going to lie to you. If I’d been a little more composed- I would have punched you in the face.

Instead. I sat on the stairs and cried a little longer. Then, I gingerly stood, testing the ankle. Then I proceed to hobble down to the end of the platform to wait for the next D train.

Now, as I sit at my desk with a rapidly swelling ankle, that is turning purple-ish, I can say, with 100% conviction: I hate you.

Have a nice fucking day, motherfucker,
Chloe

Today's Title from: Paper Planes by M.I.A.

And what you wish for won't come true

2008-02-19T10:19:00.002-05:00

I get a bagel for breakfast almost everyday. Yeah, its probably a large part of the reason why I have a fat ass, but I’m a carb addict and I admit it. Besides, I love my fat ass.

Anyhoo- the guys at the bagel counter try to guess, everyday, what I’m going to order. And they are usually wrong. Some days it’s a sesame bagel with veggie cream cheese, sometimes is a plain bagel with walnut and raisin cream cheese, my favorite is a cinnamon raisin bagel with butter, but I also really enjoy an onion bagel toasted with butter. I don’t like to eat the same thing everyday, and I get bored very easily. Today, I got yelled at for never being able to make up my mind.

I told him it was my god given right as a woman.
___________________________________________________________________

So, I have previously mentioned that sometimes I am ‘on’ right? It’s a strange phenomenon that I still haven’t figured out yet. Lately, I seem to be permanently ‘on’. I think it is directly related to the fact that for the first time in my life, I would genuinely rather slit my wrists than date.

Remember the tall, adorably awkward white boy that I met at a party last weekend? I’ve never, in my life, been so grateful that someone didn’t call. The thought of actually going on a date with him caused me literal physical pain.

So yesterday, I was leaving the gym. It was warm and humid yesterday, so I was an absolute sweaty mess. Just as I was walking out the front doors of the gym, a trainer rounded the corner and was coming towards me, I registered that he was cute. He smiled at me and said, “hi!”

In my: I’m-Not-Dating-Besides-You’re-a-Trainer-And-Required-To-Be-Nice-To-Everyone mode, I simply smiled and said a weak hi and continued my journey out the door. The Trainer FOLLOWED me out the door and was all, “Excuse me!”

I stopped and turned around. Wary.

Trainer: Wow. How did I miss you? (he sticks out his hand) Hi, I’m Ted.
Me: Hi, I’m Chloe.

Small talk ensues.

Ted the Trainer: So, what do I have to do to train you?
Me (cheekily): Do I look like I need a trainer? (I totally do! I’ve mentioned the fat ass?) What are you suggesting?
Ted the Trainer: No, no. I just thought you were cute and wanted to train you.
Me: Ha. You say that to all the girls.
Ted the Trainer: Actually, I don’t. I’m 37 years old. I don’t play games. And when I see something I like I go after it.
Me: Well, honestly, I can’t afford a trainer right now.
Ted the Trainer: That’s okay, I’ll train you for free. What’s your schedule?
Me: Honestly, I would feel badly, getting trained for free.
Ted the Trainer: Honestly, I think you’re cute and I’d like to spend more time with you.

He gives me his number and begs me to call.

I am still sort of reeling from the experience and trying to decide if he's complete bullshit or not.

Today's Title from: What You Wish For by Guster

I've been drawing the line and watching it fall

2008-02-14T17:32:00.002-05:00

When I was growing up, we had a tradition in our household. We didn’t have a lot of money, as my mother was a single parent raising 4 kids on a teacher’s salary, so we got our boxes of Valentine’s Day chocolates the day AFTER Valentine’s Day, when they were half off.

Today I find myself nostalgic for the days when a box of sub-par chocolates were the highlight of my life. I studied the ‘map’ of the chocolates extensively, making sure that I saved the best ones (caramel or anything with nuts) for very last, and eating the less desirables (orange cream- UGH!) first.
_______________________________________________________________

Yellow cabs aren’t often found in my neighborhood, especially during the late night hours. So, I often take livery (what I call- gypsy) cabs. They are Lincoln town cars that drive around Harlem/Washington Heights/Inwood, looking for passengers. Fare is often cheaper than what you would pay in a yellow cab, although minimum payment is always $6, so if your jaunt is a short one (like the 9 blocks between me and The DJ’s house, a route that I never take anymore), you can get a little screwed on your fare.

Last night, I met Nicole at a bar near her place, about 30ish blocks away from me. Around 1 am, I hailed myself a cab. As the cab pulled up in front of my apartment building, the driver turned around and asked me what I normally get charged for this route.

As I handed him $10, I said, “Six or seven dollars, depending on how cute they think I am.”

He handed me back $4.

I may not be dating, but I definitely still got it.
_________________________________________________________________

I started calling around to therapists today. Its time to fix whats wrong with me.

I want to be able to walk into any situation, and not fret about being good enough. I want to sleep through a night after someone promised to call me and didn't. I want to be able to walk away, when I know I'm with someone I shouldn't be with, and never look back. I want to not worry that every single one of my friends is going to eventually ditch on me. I want to be happy for friends in new relationships, even if I don't agree with everything about it. I want to be confident and strong enough in myself to never settle for less than what I deserve.

I want to stop being so fucking sad all the time.

Today's Title from: The Pieces Don't Fit Anymore by James Morrison

So I can start, To find my way, Out of the dark

2008-02-11T13:31:00.000-05:00

On Saturday night, I attended my first ever lingerie party. Don’t get it twisted, this was not a party where some ‘independent consultant’ comes and peddles her wares to a bunch of women looking to re-ignite their loves lives. This was a party where you are required to wear lingerie to attend.

And peeps, I rediscovered the power of the breasts. It was a magical evening of gawking and staring; complements of my lovely new red bustier. And I finally, finally got to kiss my friend, Jonathan, who is one of my most favorite people in the whole world (not just the burning man community) but who never believes me when I tell him that.

By the end of the evening, I had given my number to a tall, adorably awkward white guy who was enraptured with me. So much so, that he asked to go out with me the next day. But I am smack in the middle of an incredibly busy time of my life right now (am triple booked for tonight!), and offered him next weekend, which he gratefully took.

My problem is- I’m indifferent. Actually, I’m less than indifferent. I don’t want to date. Period.

I’m not lying or trying to convince myself of anything when I say that I’m not interested in any sort of relationship right now. The hurt from the end of Oscar is still so fresh and raw that I occasionally still have to have a little cry before I can even get out of bed in the morning. I can’t even imagine investing emotion into anyone right now. It exhausts and repulses me to even think about it. I’ve already had to blow off some guy that I met a few weeks ago because he was jumping into the whole relationship thing WAY too fast and I was freaking out. I hadn’t even been on a date with The Freak Show and I was already feeling smothered and suffocated.

Its an interesting sort of experiment- how for the first time in my life- I genuinely just want some ME time, that all of the sudden, I’m fucking irresistible.

Today's Title from: Stillness of Heart by Lenny Kravitz

I'm a big girl now, see my big girl shoes

2008-02-08T15:55:00.000-05:00

I have a problem with pants. I’m short (5’3ish) and I have a fat ass. Finding perfect fitting pants is… well, it’s a problem.

I live in the world between Regular length and Ankle/Petite length. Regular length is always way, way, way too long. Ankle/Petite length is always just a smidge too short. And there are few things in life that I find more offensive then pants that are too short. I’d rather err on the side of too long, but not Regular Length long. That is TOO long.

Anyone know a good tailor in New York City? I need some jeans hemmed.

So, just for fun (because I totally stole this from Charming, But Single), here are the top 25 most played songs on my iPod.

Glass- Ingrid Michaelson (this actually surprises me. I mean, I do really like this song, but I didn’t realize that I liked it THIS much)
Juicy- Better Than Ezra
Clumsy- Fergie
Heart of the City- Jay-Z
Good Life- Kanye West and that blasted T-Pain
Maneater- Nelly Furtado (good song to run to)
That Was A River- Collin Raye
Son of a Preacher Man- Dusty Springfield
The Way I Am- Ingrid Michaelson
Fidelity- Regina Spektor
Stripped- SoHo Dolls
Miscommunication- Timbaland
One- U2
Belief- Gavin DeGraw
Other Side of the World- KT Tunstall
Come Home- One Republic
Hate That I Love You- Rihanna
Apologize- One Republic/Timbaland
Call and Answer- Barenaked Ladies
The Blower’s Daughter- Damien Rice
Someday- John Legend
What if You- Johua Radin
Try Again- Keane
Overjoyed- Stevie Wonder
Release- Timbaland

Honorable Mentions go to:
Paper Planes- M.I.A. (I only just discovered this song and trust me, it will be number 1 before too long)
Southside- Common (this song has this weird trailer at the end that I can’t stand to listen to, so I never listen to the song completely through, making it not “count” on my Play Count)

Today's Title from: Overboard by Ingrid Michaelson

I don't expect to feel regret from this...

2008-02-07T11:20:00.000-05:00

Oh man! What a night!

A few weeks ago, I met the coolest girl ever when I was volunteering at a local animal shelter, Betsy. She lives in my neighborhood, so we exchanged numbers and agreed to meet for drinks or dinner. But as these go, I honestly didn’t think I would ever hear from her. New York is a tough city for making friends.

I was ecstatic when I received a text from her last Saturday night asking me if I wanted to meet for drinks. Unfortunately, I had other plans and offered to meet sometime this week. Last night we met for dinner at this delightful restaurant on 116th and 5th Ave for some Chinese food, and discovered they have $4 cosmos on Wednesday s.

Um, I lost count of how many $4 cosmos I had.

But it was enough to give me the courage to give the bartender my number when I was leaving.

He called me not long after I arrived home (to make sure I got home okay), but I missed the call cause I was puking in the bathroom.

Today's Title from: No Regrets by SoHo Dolls

Grey would be the color if I had a heart.

2008-02-04T15:16:00.000-05:00

I just heard from you. For the first time in 3 weeks. For the first time since that awful phone conversation when I tried to end things with you and you wouldn’t discuss it. I tried calling a few times to make sure you were okay, since I hadn’t known what you were dealing with at the time and I certainly would have done things differently if I had.

I sent you a text a week ago. I apologized for how things went down and told you that I wanted you to know how much I loved you. This was my closure.

But, I guess you needed yours too. Which is why I got the text from you today.

I wish I would have known, the last time I saw you, that it was going to be the last time I was going to see you. I wouldn’t have had that ridiculous argument with you. I would have held you tighter. I would have taken more time to memorize the way you smell and the way it felt to have my face buried in the crook of your neck. I wouldn’t have pulled away so quickly the next morning because I had to leave for work. I would have told you all the things that I think are great about you.

I would have linked my fingers through yours and made sure that no matter what- you knew that I loved you.

Today's title from: Something I Can Never Have by Nine Inch Nails

Making out that they're okay when they're not

2008-01-30T13:10:00.000-05:00

What used to be an occasional annoyance has become an almost everyday occurrence. I mentioned it once previously.

I just walked into my mail room and the UPS guy said to me, “Has anyone ever told you, you look like Britney Spears?”

He shut up when I threatened to punch him in the face.

A few weeks ago when Karen and I went to see Cloverfield (I didn’t like it, the handheld camera style made me sick. Plus, living in New York, you see all the discrepancies. Like it would have taken much longer to walk from Spring St to 59th. And how one second they were in Brooklyn and the next shot they were in Midtown? I don’t think so.), I was in the bathroom and the girl at the sink next to me said, “Has anyone ever told you, you look like Britney Spears?”

I laughed caustically. “Yes, I get it quite a bit.”

“When you walked into the theater, my husband and I thought you were Britney Spears,” she told me.

This is maybe taking it a little too far. But I stopped short of threatening her with physical violence.

Now the fact that this is happening with increasing frequency scares me. Because she is such a train wreck these days and is never photographed looking even remotely respectable. Please, people, stop comparing me to her.

I brush my hair. I don’t have breakdowns on an hourly basis. I wear panties.

Please, please- let it go.

Today's Title from: The Fear by Pulp

Is it too much to think that we could have it all?

2008-01-28T12:31:00.000-05:00

I have a confession to make. I used to listen to country music. A lot.

On Saturday night, Karen and I were talking on my bed, and I was scrolling through her iPod when I ran across a singer who sings love songs that used to have me absolutely pining for the kind of love that he sang about. I immediately plugged the ipod into my speakers, and Karen and I sang along to the songs that my heart never forgot.

And I was immediately taken back to my years in high school, riding around in my friend, Bryan’s, truck. Of hot summer nights spent at county fairs and pretending I was in Europe by driving on the wrong side of the road and scaring all my friends; and days spent lazily floating down the river in an innertube. I remembered summer school and how my best friend and I raced my next door neighbor every single morning to the high school across the city. I remembered the weeks spent camping with my hair braided into 2 french braids and a bandana permanently tied on my head and the time I sliced my left index finger open with a pocket knife and had to get 8 stitches. I remembered 4 wheeling and water-skiing and all of the things that you do when you have no other care in the world, but filling your days with friends and as much fun as possible.

And I remembered how I used to believe in love. Before relationship after relationship left me a little more cynical and jaded trying desperately to be more and more realistic with my expectations at the beginning of each one.

I remembered the relationship that taught me that love isn’t always enough (The Ex) and the relationship that taught me that loving someone with all your heart can’t make them be the person you want them to be (Oscar).

And I remembered that deep down- I still believe in love. It MUST exist. I’ve seen it. I’ve heard songs sung about it.

And even though right now it hurts and my plan is to remove myself from the market for a good long while, I believe it will happen someday.

Someday when I know I am good enough to deserve it.

Today's Title from: If I Were You by Collin Raye

I should just be my own best friend, Not f**k myself in the head with stupid men

2008-01-23T12:33:00.000-05:00

Well, the same friend that forced me to leave my Nest of Self-Pity on Monday night, also commanded me to go to the gym last night. And it was tough. I had to go home to get my gym clothes and once I was there, my bed was so tempting. So soft and fluffy. It called to me.

It said, “Chloe, come lay here. Eat ice cream and watch Annie and all your troubles will melt away.”

But I knew I was going to feel better if I went to the gym, as much as I didn’t have it in me to go.

And I went. And my friend, Ana, was right. I knew she would be. As I walked out, I felt about 10,000 times better.

I thought long and hard about what to do about The DJ as I sweated it out on the treadmill. He called again last night and left a message wondering why I hadn’t returned his calls.

I talked to Email Boy. I talked to Nicole, who is also good friends with The DJ, and I talked to Spatch.

I decided I need to talk to The DJ. There are too many mutual friends at this point to avoid him forever. I can either be an adult about the situation and talk to him, or make everyone else uncomfortable anytime we’re all in the same place, which is inevitable.

I called. I left a message. I’m waiting for him to call me back.

Now all I can do is pray that I don’t cry in front of him.

Today's Title from: Tears Dry on Their Own by Amy Winehouse

What kind of fool am I, that you so easily set me aside

2008-01-22T09:49:00.000-05:00

Last night, a friend forced me to leave my house and away from the haven of my couch and America’s Next Top Model reruns to meet her and some other people in Williamsburg (that’s Brooklyn for you non-New Yorkers) for dinner. After dinner I hopped into a cab to head towards another area of Brooklyn to meet up with another friend. As the cab got onto the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway, I started to get a panic-y feeling inside me. I knew exactly where I was. It was a route I had taken hundreds of times previously in the passenger seat of Oscar’s car, from my house to his. When the cab turned onto the Prospect Something or Other Expressway, I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. I sat in the back of that cab and sobbed.

When the cab drove within 100 feet of Oscar’s house, I practically doubled over with the pain that seared straight through me.

I wanted to tell the cab driver to stop. To turn right, to drop me off at the familiar driveway. So I could go inside and scream at him. Scream at him for not caring, for making me love him and for never even giving me a piece of his heart. I wanted to beg him to explain to me why I wasn’t ever good enough.

I wanted something, anything, to make this pain bearable.

I haven’t heard from The DJ since he called a few hours after he sent The Text Message, a call checking to make sure that I received the The Text Message (I didn’t answer, he left a voicemail).

And I am spent. I am beaten. I am broken.

For the first time in years, I don’t know if I can pick myself back up again. I don’t even know if I want to.

I am making plans. I am talking of therapy. Of being more diligent about going to the gym. Of joining Weight Watchers.

But all of it feels just so exhausting.

Today's Title from: Fool of Me by Me'Shell Ndegeocello

Let's Get This Party Started Quickly, Right?

2008-01-20T20:24:00.000-05:00

I was right.

All y'all were wrong.

I can safely say, with 100% conviction that The DJ is not The One.

How do I know this?

Because. Kevin and I had talked of going to The Party tonight together. I didn't want to show up alone, and figured Kevin was the perfect booty shaking partner. So I sent him a text earlier today asking him about the plans for tonight. After several hours, I started to get a little worried that I hadn't heard back from him. So I called him. No answer.

A few very short minutes later, I got a very long text message from The DJ. Explaining that Kevin is going to The Party tonight with a girl that The DJ is involved with, but Kevin didn't know how to tell me.

And I officially dub myself The World's Most Undate-able Human Being.