Panic Attack Lite

I have just broken a cardinal rule. I have smoked in front of DF. Well technically, not in front of him, but he knows I’m doing it and I’m at his house so I might as well have. Now when I tell you what caused me to break this rule you may laugh, but I am currently in the throws of a mini panic attack.

On Sunday we got up and he is a get up and go kind of guy while I am a wake up slowly kind of girl. So he got up and went. He turned on the music loud and started cleaning and organizing. I went to go and get something and when I came back the bed was stripped. So I calmly took my book downstairs and then outside to get a little peace and quiet. He told me later that he wished I had told him since he would rather have me with him than be by himself. That was nice, right?

Then I told a friend about it and he agreed and said that I should have told DF that I started a little more slowly.

I told DF about the conversation. And DF said that I needed to understand that what makes me happy makes him happy and he wants me to be happy. And then he said that I needed to tell him what makes me happy all the time. That is also nice, right?

The problem is that I have never had a man wonder what makes me happy and want to do it. It does not even occur to me to voice my needs. Well, I take that back. I consider doing that for about as long as it takes someone to skip a rock across a pond and then just like the rock, the thought sinks. It is fleeting and my main concern has always been to make them happy, (of course that translates into: make them happy so they don’t hit me or yell at me or make me feel like a slug under a rock.) And now I have this wonderful man who is truly concerned about me and appreciates me and wants to make me happy and I honestly don’t know what to do. I froze. He asked me to tell him from now on and I froze. And then he went to shower and I cried. And then I finally came upstairs after I stalled cleaning in the kitchen and I couldn’t breathe.

So here I am, on the front porch, trying to gather my wits about me with vodka on one side, computer in front of me and cigarettes on the other. The thought of voicing my wants and needs and having them met is somehow terrifying. I think maybe because I have tried it before and always been laughed at or dismissed. Honestly, I am so terrified right now that I want to run. If his car wasn’t blocking mine and I didn’t know it would hurt his feelings, I would leave a note and go home right now. Or maybe I would keep driving…Who knew that a healthy relationship could be just as scary as an unhealthy one?

Voices

When I sing I can bring the entire audience to silence. There may be murmurs when I start, but by the end of the first stanza, everyone is listening. And the standing ovations and cheers at the end are phenomenal. I have that kind of voice. I have the voice that doesn’t mix with the choir. And it never has.

So what I’m trying to understand is why have I spent most of my life trying to mix with the choir? There is one choir called “The People Pleaser” and the other one is called “Please Accept Me.” I can do a stint here and there in each one, but I don’t belong in either of them. Because each time I try and sing with them, I change the essence of my voice just to fit in and stop singing the way I was meant to. Why didn’t I recognize earlier that being the soloist fits my personality much better than being part of the choir?

I have spent most of my life trying to prove what I am. I am a mixture of cultures and have always felt one foot in and one foot out in each of them. I have tried to be more Arab and tried to be more Latin, instead of realizing that this is already part of me. I don’t have to try and I certainly don’t have to prove it to anyone. I have spent these past few months asking questions and realized that these things that I wanted so desperately for people to see are already there. People have called me exotic and classy and exceptional: traits that I never knew I exuded. Looking at myself through others eyes has led me to discover that I am far beyond what I wanted others to see.

I now realize that I don’t have to fit in. In order for me to be happy, I just have to be me. So the problem is, with this voice that I have, how do I make it sing again? How do I assimilate all that I have learned this summer so that I can be the one who gets standing ovations in real life and not just on stage.

There is another voice. The one that is so soft that I tend to ignore it and push it aside. This is the one that I need to start to listen to the most. The one that tells me in my gut where I need to go and what I need to do, the one that brings me a sense of peace when I listen to it. If I can start hearing that voice and make it stronger and blend it with the other voice, I know I could be VERY successful. And this is not the success that comes with money, but the success that comes with fulfillment. That is what I want. I want to come home, at the end of the day to loving arms and know that what I did has made a difference for someone. And I want to do it knowing that I did it with my unique voice.

What a Difference a Day Makes

So on the heels of our declarations, DF and I had our first misunderstanding. I went from being blissfully happy to a raving lunatic within a matter of hours.

I have to admit that I handled the whole thing rather poorly. Oh, I rallied at the end of the day, but during the breakdown of communication; I sucked. I sucked so badly that my friend actually told me that I was forbidden from calling him or going over because he couldn’t see the “crazy” me quite so early in the relationship. I actually don’t think I would have gone quite so overboard if it wasn’t that time of the month. Not that this is a defense, but it definitely plays into my emotional make-up.

Of course things are “fine” now. Again, DF has proven that he is exceptional among men. And while things are “fine, they still don’t feel quite “right.”

You see, DF is going through some big changes and apparently needs some space to process.

If we were further along in the relationship, I’m sure this wouldn’t bother me quite as much as it does. But I miss him. I miss our long talks and our time together and when we did finally speak last night; it felt sort of strained.

I hope that when we are further along, we will have better lines of communication. It is not that he doesn’t communicate well, but that it comes too late sometimes which leaves me sad and confused.

The other fallout from all of this is that now I’m feeling a little more guarded. I’m nervous about seeing him tonight, but it’s not the butterflies-in-my-stomach-because-I-can’t-wait-to-see-him feeling. It’s more like, I’m nervous because I’m not sure how tonight is going to go. I don’t know quite what to expect. I’m a planner and since I don’t know what to expect, I don’t know what to plan; or maybe more aptly, what to plan for.

Logically, I know that everything is going to be fine. I know that things will get back on track. But emotionally I’m a little sad that real life had to throw such a curve ball in the beginning of our relationship and leave me feeling so unsure of what is going on.

Home

Today I am calm. It may be because I have only had three hours of good sleep and I’m just exhausted. But it also may be because the man I love told me he loves me back.

I thought I would be nervous. I thought I would be a little freaked out at this big step. But instead I feel tranquil.

It just feels right.

It resonates somewhere deep within me and I feel like a placid body of water. I feel refreshed and awake and like it will be smooth sailing.

Which I know is not necessarily the case, I know there are storms sometimes. But this time, I picked a winner. I picked someone who will stand by me and let me stand by him. I feel like together we can make great things happen.

Knowing DF is in love with me makes me feel like I just arrived home; right where I’m supposed to be.

The Experiment

Today is the experiment. Now I know that someone might say that I’m nuts and I should just ask, (and I should,) but I want to see what happens.

I generally send DF like three emails and two texts throughout the day. And if he responds to one, I’m lucky. He says I can send as many as I want and he also says that he reads them as soon as he gets them. But I’m wondering if they bug him and if I don’t send anything, if he’ll notice.

Now, not to be condescending, but he is a man. So I am guessing that this little experiment might have to last longer than one day. Which stinks for me! And what will stink even more is if he doesn’t notice and if really would rather I not send him little thoughts during the day. I’m used to talking to the people in my life several times a day and since he is now an important part of my life….I like to be in contact.

(I do have to applaud myself because I am fairly sure that for the first time today, he was not my first thought. I THINK my first thought was COFFEE and then Pan de Yuca and then DF.)

So I figured that today, I would write all of my little inane comments here that I would normally send and we’ll see how it goes.

Today’s messages would have been:

1. I think you need a website. Maybe you and my cousin could partner on some things…he does sculpture and it would fit in well to your landscape design.

2. Of course you are going to drive on the road trip, that way my hands are free to torment you…. ;)


3. What are we making for dinner tomorrow? (This I get from my father who always asks this question the day before.)

It is now five o’clock and I am sitting on my hands. I’ve been good all day. As a matter of fact, I’ve been damn proud of myself. But now, I’m going a little nuts. No word from DF, (which is not unusual,) but I am doing everything in my power to restrain myself from sending some form of communication. Arrrggghhhh!

And at 5:30 he called. Not because he noticed that I was silent today, but because he needed someone to listen. So my experiment has failed. I didn’t find out anything! But I’m so happy he decided to call…

Paragon Restored.

I had decided to wait to talk to him until we were face to face. I decided that the small slip was important enough to wait until we could see each other again before I tackled the issue. I had it all played out in my head. How I was going to use a little humor to make my point and then emphasize that it turned out not to be such a big thing, but that in the future I wanted a different response.

And he beat me to the punch!

He brought the subject up of his own volition the following night. He took time out of the conversation to tell me that he was sorry and he knew he screwed up and that he would do better next time.

Who is this man I am dating?!?!?!?!

I know he can’t be perfect…no one is, but he is pretty damn close. If this is what you get for waiting so long, I’m going to tell everyone to wait. Wait until you get that flurry of butterflies in your stomach. Wait until you are nervous each and every time you see him. Wait until his kisses steal every thought in your brain and you wouldn’t dream of telling his hands to stop touching you. Wait until his texts and his phone calls make you smile just when you see his name on the screen. Just wait, because it is so worth the wait.

Oh How the Mighty Have Fallen

So up until now, DF has been a paragon among men. He has been sensitive and understanding and basically surpassed my hopes.

But tonight, he screwed up. Not big, because after all, I am nothing if not resilient. But still I am taking his “the man” card away.

You see, just yesterday he told me that he was “here for me.”

And yesterday evening we had a wonderful time. It was so wonderful that he declared himself “the man” and I, in my befuddled and confused state, let him take the title.

Well, today I am rescinding it.

I have the absolute worst time asking for help. I will do my best to do it all alone and not bother a soul. I may get moody and brood, but I generally don’t put my things on other people. At least, I try my very best not to.

But I thought I would try. You see twice now I have been asked to be there and be a friend and I have been. I have come, no questions asked, and listened and comforted. I did not ask for anything in return nor did I expect anything.

But today, I was having an off day. So I took a chance and wrote the following:

“Basically, if there are no kids tonight I need some comfort. I tell you to ask me, so now I'm asking you. I don't finish my day until after 9.

Please let me know if I can stop by.”

And he responded by asking if I was okay!!!!

Now you may not think that is not a big deal. But I don’t ask for help. I don’t ask for comfort but I took a chance and did it tonight. And instead of saying I could stop by no questions asked, he asked if I was okay. Now to further add insult to injury, originally he was going out. (Now please understand that this is a man who always does things for other people, so if he was going to go out and be with a friend, I wouldn’t stop him.) But he decided to stay home!

I really don’t care if men and women are different. I don’t care if I seemed needy. I asked for something, a very small something and got a question in response.

And my very childish reaction is to not do it again. I probably won’t for a very long time.

So, DF, I hereby strip you of your “the man” title and you are going to have to work very hard to get it back.

Clue Me In

Okay, so after a rough session in therapy, (yes, of course I go to therapy, doesn’t everyone?,) I then heard from DF late in the evening. His plans fell through for the night and instead of inviting me over (as has been our modis operandi as of late,) he made up some excuse. To be honest, I don’t remember what the excuse was, but I know I was a bit miffed. So I sent him a little email and said that my feelings were hurt. Now this may be the epitome of a needy girl, but you know what? I don’t care.

See, a very wise friend told me, (and you know who you are,) that I shouldn’t feel bad about asking for what I need in a relationship. To be totally honest, I was content staying at home tonight. We have spent a lot of time together and some time apart would be good, refreshing. But I was hurt that he didn’t want to spend time with me. So I told him.

And he responded, nicely and then indicated that he needed some time alone. And I responded just as nicely and said that I understood that he was going through a lot right now and that I respected that. I said that I wanted to be his friend as well as his romantic partner and I offered to help him in that spirit.

Now here comes the problem. My immediate reaction is to pull away. I am already in my “screw him” mood. Hell, I might just be rash enough to book a trip to Montreal tomorrow. I have already made up my mind in my head not to contact him and not to push. I intend to back off completely. I will let him be and get on with my life. In essence, I am done for the moment. I know that will change tomorrow or the next day, but for now; caput!

You may ask, how do I know it will change?

Every time I look at this man; this man who is so far from who I imagined I would be with, I am struck with the urge to tell him how much I love him. I substitute the word adore, but it just doesn’t do the trick. We have been dancing around the idea for a week now and I’ll wait until he’s ready. (I promise!)

Why didn’t anyone tell me? Why didn’t anyone tell me that this is what it could be like? This infinite peace and comfort combined with sexual chemistry that is out of this world. If someone had just told me, I would have known what I was looking for and I would have stopped wasting time on all the other ones. Why didn’t anyone tell me that when it is right, you don’t worry about your belly or the fact that your legs aren’t perfectly toned? That the combustion factor wipes out any preconceived notions you had about the body you would be with and the body you wished you had? Why didn’t someone clue me in that the fabulous chemistry leads to lazy talks and sharing intimate feelings that suddenly aren’t so scary to share?

Don’t get me wrong. I’m still scared. There is still a part of me that says, I blew it by letting him know that I was being needy. But there is another part of me that says; “Oh well.” If he can’t handle that, then he can’t handle me. And I am one hell of a person with plenty of love to give the right man.

Discombobulated

After my freak out last night, I woke up this morning totally off center. I felt like I was walking on egg shells. I didn’t know what to expect after a night of revelations and heart felt conversation. But he was wonderful.

He caught on quick that I was having a difficult time this morning. I still am having a hard time, but he handled my “freak out” with aplomb…and really, I didn’t freak out. I don’t freak out by anyone else’s standards since I tend to hold everything tight inside, which is why it hurts to breathe and my stomach and back hurt. I think I’m falling apart, because I am on the inside and God forbid anyone should see that on the outside. I can’t abide by anyone seeing that I’m having a rough time and then actually offer to help.

But he did.

He saw and while it was hard, it was okay. And he didn’t offer to help…he just helped. He said the right thing, he reassured me and he held me. I still feel off center, but I know that it will dissipate as the day goes on; at least I hope it will.

Uncentered

Okay, so it’s two in the morning and I am panicking. I didn’t really say that I loved him, but he knows. AND I KNOW THE RULE! I know I blew it. Women everywhere are throwing up their arms in frustration at this exact moment.

I’m sitting here close to tears envisioning all sorts of things, which logically I know are not the case. Logically I know that the world did not really tilt on its axis and throw off the center of gravity so that only I am going to go falling off.

Emotionally, I totally blew it and now I might as well go and bury my head in the sand because tomorrow morning he is going to walk out of here without a backwards glance. Mind you I didn’t really say it….I alluded to it and he’s not stupid….he knows what I meant! I feel like that character with the bad Russian accent who is hitting his head saying, “You idiot! You idiot!” Seriously!

I get all caught up and then I just don’t know when to leave well enough alone and I have to keep going and ruin it all! We had this very nice evening, we sat on the couch, we talked, we made dinner together, we sat on the couch some more. And then we were lying in the dark and talking and in an effort to put him at ease (I know, I know, don’t tell me!) I hinted at the big L word. Why don’t I have a big cosmic eraser and I can just eradicate that one little moment from time? Did I mention that I’m panicking?

Charting the course

My first experience with sex was not a good one. I spoke with a therapist about it later and she equated it to rape. Children have a coping mechanism that has been documented over and over, that I automatically exhibited during this first experience. They somehow leave their bodies and sort of “float” next to the ceiling and watch the whole thing. They detach themselves, so to speak. And I don’t blame the boy…how was he to know, if I didn’t know, that I wasn’t ready. But I wasn’t ready…and I think that has colored my relationships, views about men and how I interact with them ever since.

Alcoholics say that they are alcoholics even when they are not drinking, so does that make me a recovering victim of abuse for the rest of my life? After this first sexual experience, I consistently chose men who abused me. They were drunks, they hit me, cheated on me, called me horrible things and basically whittled away my self-esteem. I have been through things that I would not wish on my worst enemy….and yet, I am somehow grateful. I am grateful that I am still alive. I am grateful to have learned how strong I truly am and that no matter what, I can make it through. So, while I am sure that I might have caught some insight into that portion of my character, I would not have learned the lesson as profoundly as I did.

So now, I find myself, navigating the dating waters without a charted course. You might think that I’m an idiot because we are all in the same boat when it comes to dating…but I disagree. When you are abused, you don’t know right from wrong when it comes to how people treat you. It is hard to understand when it is okay to take time for you, when you need to stand up for yourself and that doing things for yourself is actually loving and kind. I’m trying my best to take it slow, to take deep breathes and remind myself that I do matter.

Thought

The very thought of you and I forget to do
The little ordinary things that everyone ought to do
I'm living in a kind of daydream
I'm happy as a king
And foolish though it may seem
To me that's everything

The mere idea of you, the longing here for you
You'll never know how slow the moments go till I'm near to you
I see your face in every flower
Your eyes in stars above
It's just the thought of you
The very thought of you, my love

These are the lyrics that have been running through my head since Sunday. Did I mention I have it bad for this man? I mean we are talking the whole nine yards….the gazing off into nothing, the sighs, the butterflies in my stomach when I remember the time we spent together this weekend. I don’t want to assume anything, I don’t want to jump to conclusions. And in a protective measure for myself, I am still hedging my bets. I am waiting. And with the waiting I am getting nervous and my concentration is shot. But just when I think I can’t wait anymore, he sends a text. And then when I think that this is it, he sends an email that makes me smile (shoot, who am I kidding, it made me get all teary,) and then when he calls….everything is right.

We talk and it is almost as if I am in his arms again. I love touching his face and with his voice in my ear I can almost feel his skin under my palm. This man is so right and yet nothing that I imagined.

Honestly, I’m not sure I could have imagined this. And whatever this is, I’m going to do my best to enjoy it for however long I can.

To be or not to be

Today is good and it stinks all the same. I may be putting the cart before the horse, but I have a feeling that I’m not.

I HAD to see this movie today. I walked to the theater and arrived late…still wondering why the hell I had to see a love story when all I was trying to do was not think about “him.” It seemed ludicrous, but oh well…so I did. I bought the ticket, decided to have popcorn for lunch and sat down for a couple of hours.

So this love story…it wasn’t the love story part that spoke to me. It was the relationship between the two women. The older one treated the younger one like a daughter. She was loving and affectionate and gave her small touches and brushed her hair.

And that’s when it hit me, the kids thing is important. I do want to have one of my own, (at least one.) I want that bond, that connection….

On oneh hand, I’m getting myself all worked up over nothing. I still haven’t broached the idea (in the whole one day since I last wrote…lol.) I actually haven’t heard from him and I’m getting the sneaking suspicion that he needed to pull back just a bit, which is okay. I can be scary and a little intense with the whole heart on my sleeve thing. On the other hand, I am learning exactly how great of a catch I am….so if it doesn’t work out, there are others out there.

Deconstruction

So I just spent the weekend with a man…the first time I’ve done something like this in a very long time. I left and now I’m a little melancholy. I can’t quite put my finger on it. I don’t know if it’s because we crossed that line so now I’m confused. Or if it’s because I’m sad that the weekend that was so comfortable and comforting has come to an end. I’m feeling awfully blah….and I feel bad because I left and I was already in my head. Already trying to assimilate the information and I wasn’t my usual chipper self which is not how I wanted to leave. But I was already so distracted…

I do have to admit that it was hard to be there on some level. There was so much around of her…the ex. Things that were small and in corners, but still there. Things that might always be there, even when he moves to his new place. There is so much history, twenty years almost. And it feels as if I’m competing with the past on some level. Not in affection, but for a place. There were pictures and toiletries and left over merchandise from a store. There was furniture, nipple things that women put in their shirts and the pictures. Pictures that documented a history and I just don’t know. I don’t know how you move on from that. How do you let go of a past that shaped who you are? That brought you the most wonderful things that you have? That gave you your children that you adore?

Don’t get me wrong….it was wonderful. I felt loved and cherished. I adored every minute that we spent together. I loved being in his arms and making love with him. Everything felt easy and natural. He is smart and funny and makes me feel special. The entire time we were together it was about us.

And so I think maybe the issue is the VASECTOMY. He is so perfect in every way. But the fact of the matter is that I’m not quite ready to give up my dream of having children. How could I have so much to give, so much love and not have someone of my own to give it to? I haven’t asked because it’s so early, I haven’t asked because part of me is afraid of the answer. I’m not ready to give up on something that is so wonderful yet…but I’m beginning to think that I might not be able to compromise on this one. And if he truly is done having children then I may very well have a difficult decision to make. It’s early, I know. But this is all so easy and so right. It would be like leaving the couch to explore the world and not knowing if I’ll ever have a couch again.

The reality is that I’m almost 39 which is almost 40. I’ve been pregnant maybe three times, definitely two. What if I can’t even carry a child to term? What if I don’t meet someone to do that with me? What if I don’t find someone to make a family with and a history and a home?

Singing

Performing to me is one of the most wonderful things in the world. It is the one time that I truly feel free. I feel like I can do anything. I am soaring with my voice, the audience loves me and I am happy.

But just before I perform the anticipation is agony. I spend weeks, sometimes months rehearsing until I know I have it in the bag. But the night before I go on stage I lose it. I become the consummate diva. I’m unreasonable, moody, grouchy and usually burst into tears at the drop of a hat.

I am consumed with doubts, what if I miss the high note, what if I fall, what if I miss that difficult transition, what if I start too soon, what if I start too late? I go over and over all the highs and lows of the song as well as imagine all the things that can go wrong. The inevitable meltdown occurs during dress rehearsal and my producer has to give me a hug and tell me to go home (usually mid-song, lol) and have a drink… or two…or three. He tells me that I’m going to do beautifully tomorrow and to go and relax and orders me not to think about ANYTHING musical.

And then it’s performance night. I am backstage and there is a knot in my stomach. Butterflies are battling for position and I am nervous. But it’s a good kind of nervous. It’s the nervous that occurs right before something wonderful happens. I close my eyes and go over my selections for the evening and then I hear my name. I step out onto the stage and smile at the audience, hoping that I am showing way more confidence than I feel at the moment. I stand before the mic and look at the accompanist and nod my head. The familiar notes flow out of the piano and I close my eyes. There is a rustle in the audience and I take a deep breath. I feel chills run over my whole body and then I sing the first note. The audience falls quiet and I open my eyes and smile. I am soaring, I am happy and I am right where I am supposed to be.

That's how this new man makes me feel. He makes me feel like I am singing....

Sabotage....

Apparently, I am bound and determined to drive my new relationship into the ground. I was talking with Roomie this morning and she asked me why I thought I didn't deserve to have a good, normal relationship? She said that while she has seen tons of men paraded through here, not one of them has been good enough nor the caliber of men that she would pick for me. She also mentioned that as I keep losing more and more weight, more and more doors will open but just because the outside looks nice, I haven't necessarily fixed the inside.

See, I feel like the proverbial damaged goods. These truly awful relationships that I've had have apparently left more of an imprint than I thought. In this new relationship, I feel very out of my depth. Not necessarily that I'm not good enough, but I am having a hard time communicating things. There is an internal language barrier that I've got going all on my own, combined with a very real language barrier since Romeo is foreign.

I worry. I worry that I'll freak out when we're intimate. I worry that I'll say the wrong thing, not say enough, say too much. I worry about what exactly is the right thing to say. I worry when I respond to a text and take what I think is a chance and he doesn't respond back.....

I know I can't judge him by the past. That he is his own person, but don't we all do that? We take our past relationships and then use that as the standard to go by? My reactions to his actions are based on what I have learned from the past. And if I don't change my reactions, I'm going to screw this one up.

I'm not saying he's "the one." But I am saying that he seems like a "good one." And I would really like to know what its like to have a relationship with a "good one."

Am I Really Happy?

Years ago, I went to woman who does past life regressions. She led me through the process and then proceeded to inform me that I met the Rat Bastard in every life (the Rat Bastard is another story for another time.) She said that in my past lives he killed me. But, that in every life, I got smarter and I got away from him quicker. She said it was only in my recent lives that I survived him. Well, in this life, I think I did okay. And I think maybe in my next life I won't marry RB but that I'll be savvy enough to see him for what he is ahead of time.

The point of this is that finally, in these past few days, I feel like I'm beyond the RB. I feel like the black pallor that he cast over me has lifted and that I am finally moving on and becoming the person I am meant to be. That's not to say that I have it all figured out, but that is to say that I think I'm finally happy. I'm excited to start my day. I'm excited about what the future holds for both my professional and my personal life. I'm excited to work out (*gasp*) and that truly is a miracle. I love who I am and how I look and feel. I can do better, but I also feel like "better" is finally within my reach.

While some of you may say it has to do with the man. I don't think so. I am happy about how I am navigating this situation as well. I am proud of myself for not falling in head first and that I'm weighing the pros and cons of it all. I am pleased that I am taking my time and not immediately kissing everyone off. I am smiling because I am still going out and having fun and enjoying myself while I put this possible relationship on the middle burner and patiently wait to see what happens.

Strange turns

So this is when I wish that I had a huge following with lots of input because I don't really trust my own judgment.

I met someone.

And while I'm really happy, I am walking on eggshells trying not to fall and land on my ass. I don't want to read too much into it. I don't want to be taken advantage of again. I don't want to make the mistakes that I have made in the past. This all seems too good to be true at the moment so I'm trying my very best to go slow.

In fact, I am giving it my best effort to go slow. I am making myself still talk to other men. I am going out and dancing and having a good time. I am trying to make sure that before I cut everyone off I have truly made an informed decision. I am trying to listen to actions rather than words and I am seriously considering going to a therapist to help me sort this out. I want to make sure that this time, if it is "this time" that I choose right. That I make a decision that will benefit me instead of harm me.

I'll tell the "how we met" later, and just leave the "OMG, I'm a little terrified at the moment." for now.

Are we confused?

Okay, so I was dating this guy....three or four dates over the course of a couple months, lots of phone calls and emails. I don't know, but I thought things were going along well. There were flowers and gifts and dinners and movies. It all seemed like a good thing. Nice chemistry and similar values. Sounds promising right?

And then he disappeared.

Out of the blue and after a night of anticipation about what might happen on the next date, he just vanished.

Honestly, I wasn't too heartbroken since it took me a week to realize that we hadn't talked. But then I began to wonder what happened. And then I brushed it off. No big deal, there are other fish in the sea.

So after a couple of weeks I get a phone call out of the blue. And it's him. He's friendly and apologizes, telling me that he's been out of the country and busy working and blah blah blah. Finally, he gets to the point and tells me that he's not ready for anything serious but that he things I'm a great girl and more blah blah blah. He asks if we can be friends and I said that would be great but that I don't kiss my friends. The call ended on a very amicable note and he said he might be in town in a couple of days and did I want to get together? I told him that would nice and to let me know.

The next night he pops up online and we start chatting. Long story short, even though he just told me that he didn't want a commitment, even though we have already established that I'm not promiscuous, he still thinks that he can come into town and maybe get a little play.

REALLY!!!!

It turns out that he was not coming into town for work, but specifically coming in to get lucky! I don't think I could be any clearer than "don't expect me to kiss you if we're just friends." Apparently that is code for, "Sure, I'll have sex with you."

Who knew?

The Scent of a (Desperate) Man

I have smelled that desperate scent on a woman. It is intangible but you can feel it all the same when she walks into a room. She is dying to get married. And I've often wondered two things:

1. OMG, do I ever do that?
2. If I can detect it, what kind of vibe must the men be getting?

Well for the first time the other night, I got that off a guy.

I have to admit that I thought it was a female thing...you know the whole biological clock, our ovaries are shutting down, we have to wear the white dress NOW. I thought it was part psychological and part physiological. I am from the last generation of women where it still seems an essential right of passage to get married. I am right in the middle of two opposing groups; I am part of the transitional group, so to speak. The generation older than me thought and thinks that getting married is necessary. It is part of how they define womanhood. The generation younger than me believes that they can take it or leave it. They can be married or they can be just as happy single, but walking down the aisle is no longer a forgone conclusion. Now I'm talking strictly about American women. If you've grown up in another culture, the generations where this happen are different. For example, my cousin is technically in the same generation as I and she behaves with the norms from the generation that is older than us. (Although maybe that is also because my generation is sort of split on the subject?) Anyway, now about the man...

So this guy contacts me and we talk a couple of times. He really wanted to meet, but we couldn't fit it in before he had to go overseas. We agreed that we would meet when he returned. Now here is what happened. I'm trying to decipher if I missed the signs all together or if they really did creep up on me.

If you haven't noticed from the previous post, I'm a little bit of a throwback. This is the premise that this guy used to contact me. He said that we had this in common and that he shared the same ideas about romance. Once we did speak on the phone he was persistent in his efforts to see me. Looking back, I think that the only reason he didn't press harder the night before he left on his trip was because the roads were awful. We did have one lengthy phone call that same night and I imagined that I wouldn't hear from him until he returned.

He called me on the way to the airport to say goodbye and to tell me that he looked forward to meeting me. He then called me twice from (literally) the other side of the world. He then called the day he got home and asked what time we were going out. He called a couple of other times too, but those were the ones that stuck out.

So finally we meet.

We met at a bar for a drink and he wanted to hug me right off the bat....then he wanted to kiss me in public and kept insisting until I gave him a kiss on the cheek. (I now realize I should have stood my ground, but that is another post another day.) It was okay. I wasn't bowled over or super impressed, but I like to give it a fair shot to see if I'm missing anything. We agreed that we should get together again sometime. I thanked him for the drink and that was that.

So he calls on Monday and asks when he can see me again. Then he calls on Wednesday for plans that night. Then he calls on Thursday for plans that night. So on Thursday, I tell him that I am a planner and I'm really not good with on the spot plans. I say that I really do better with a couple days notice and that; for example, I already have my weekend planned. I haven't heard from him since Thursday.

Not that I'm crying over it, but apparently he wanted an instant girlfriend. He told me over drinks how he was ready to get married and start a family. I just didn't realize that he meant Monday morning.

Woo-Hoo! Woo-ee! Woo Me!

So I've been MIA for quite sometime...

I abandoned men for a few months around the holidays. I figured why should I spend time with someone I don't know when the holidays are for spending time with people you love, right?


A lot has changed and not much has changed. I'm still single. I joined Match with lackluster results so far. All the men from last year have pretty much fallen by the way side and now there is a whole new crop. A crop that is changing quickly but a new crop

Since the new year there has been at least one that showed real promise. And then he got transferred a little too far. To be honest, there really wasn't a whole lot of time to see if the "promise" could lead anywhere.

And now, now I'm annoyed.

I'm annoyed because somewhere along the way, men forgot how to woo. What happened to those tension building dates? What happened to the romance and the seduction? I met one man and after the first meeting, (a date is when he picks you up, a meeting is when you drive separately,) he asked if we could have the next date at his house! Now some of you may not see anything wrong with this, but seriously!?!?!?!

I do not take sex lightly. I know that when I get into bed with someone it has to mean something because otherwise I am in for a whole lot of trouble. I get attached. I start building fantasies only to get my heart broken. So if I'm not in love with you, I'm certainly not going to sleep with you.

But it seems that this is the norm these days. One meeting and then sex is okay.

So I'm not normal?

Because I just can't do that. I can't just dive into bed because we met for a drink and I think you're okay. I need the build up, the anticipation and the feeling of losing my breath. If you can't give me that, well then I can't give you the other part.

Now don't get me wrong. I am not a haggard looking girl hiding behind indignation. I have been told that I am "elegant" and "exotically beautiful" for Pete's sake! I deserve these things, but I'll be damned if I can find a man who can do them. Every time I consider bending the rules something holds me back. I guess I'm not willing to settle this time.