Two Steps Behind

Last month, my dear friend S. got married.  (Sadly, she got married the same day that my BFF M. got married in England, so I had to miss S.’ wedding!  Daaa!)  Today I came home and in the mail was a thank-you card for the wedding gift I purchased for them, and it was a postcard with a darling picture of S. and her husband on their honeymoon.   So I put it up on my fridge.

Then I stepped back and surveyed my fridge.  Engagement photos, wedding photos, holiday photo cards.  My kitchen is a veritable scrapbook of all my friends’ happy relationships.  And I smile every time I look at these photos, because yes, I am a shmoopy person, and I love that kind of stuff.

But today I took a step back and thought, Wow.  I never thought at this age, I’d be here. 

I never thought that while I watched all my friends get married, I would be the anomaly.

I never thought that I would become the token single girl, entertaining my coupled friends with stories of my dating life.

I never thought that I would go to so many weddings without a “plus-one.”

I never thought that I’d be twenty-eight and be set up with guys by my mother.

All those things almost didn’t happen.  If I had stayed with my ex, we would be celebrating our 1st wedding anniversary on the 29th.  And I don’t wish that were the case, I truly don’t.  I know I made the right decision — he wasn’t the person I was meant to be with. 

But I do want that with somebody — the right somebody.  And I know he’s out there.  I know there are many people out there who I could be happy with.  And in the meantime, there are lots of great things in my life.

But sometimes, I just wish that the guy, whoever and wherever he may be, would just hurry the hell up and meet me already.

Letdown

I hope that my dear readers enjoyed a fun and relaxing Labor Day weekend — I certainly did.  Two dinners out, two hikes, two dates (with one boy), one Jack Johnson concert, one birthday BBQ and lots of time with friends. 

But tonight I am totally overwhelmed with an inexplicable feeling of blah.  I can’t tell if it’s just the post-weekend letdown, the dread of going back to work (even though I worked a good chunk of time today to try to make it easier for me tomorrow), some hormonal thing or what, but I’m feeling a level of sadness that I haven’t felt since some time before the England/Paris extravaganza. 

Whenever I feel this way — which had been far less often, and it scares me that maybe the perpetual feeling of malaise is taking root again — I start to question.  I wonder whether I am really at a place where i should be trying to date and meet someone.  Everyone seems to think that putting myself out there, as I have been doing, is the right thing to do.  And intellectually, when I’m feeling happy, I agree with them.

But then I start feeling this way and I just want to burrow.

Open or Closed?

***Navel-gazing ahead!! Consider yourself warned.***

I have plenty of happy things to write about, but then I had a thought-provoking session with my therapist today, and the things we talked about pushed right to the forefront of my mind. I’ve been purposefully not writing much about therapy, partly because it’s so personal and partly because recently, I have felt like she’s been exploring areas that don’t exactly feel relevant to me. But today, she really made me take a step back and evaluate myself.

She’s made comments in the past that while she sees me as being at a high level intellectually, that my ability to express my emotions isn’t very developed. Today she said that she can see in my face sometimes that I am upset and that my chin quivers a little bit, but that I never actually let myself cry.

“This is a safe space,” she said. “You always seem like you almost get there and then you pull yourself together.”

I know. I’ve just always hated crying in front of other people. Even my best friends.

Why do you think that is?

I don’t know, I’ve just always hated it. It just makes me feel embarrassed and uncomfortable.

Have you ever seen your parents cry?

Yes, yes, of course.

And did you think there was something wrong with that?

Well…no.

So it’s OK for other people but not for you?

…and so on. Then she asked me, “what about anger?”

When I’m angry I usually just bottle it up.

So where does that anger go?

Well…time goes by and it just goes away, I guess.

I explained to her that even though most of my friends are really good and upfront about telling people when they are upset, and I really admire that trait, I just have a block about doing it myself. I swear I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve ever yelled at someone.

And then it was as though my whole relationship life flashed before my eyes, and I thought how different some of my relationships might have been if I had stepped up and not been afraid to express what I was feeling, for better or for worse. I think of myself as being too emotionally available, but I feel like really what I’ve been doing is putting my feelings up at stake (in the sense that I feel things strongly) but not really being candid or emotionally open, because I so often keep inside what I’m really thinking or feeling.

I said this to her and she said, “well if you think back like that, then it makes you wrong, or it makes everything seem like your fault.” So, onward and upward I suppose. But if I am really as emotionally closed off as she suggests, how do I ever begin to change that?

(My ex-boyfriend A. called me tonight just to chat. When we hung up, I thought about my therapy session and almost called him back to say, “do you think I’m emotionally retarded?” before I realized that he was the last person who I would trust to answer a question like that. He is so non confrontational, he makes me look like a screamer. Anyway.)

I keep thinking that this right guy is just around the corner and that when he appears into my life, we will fit together like puzzle pieces and things will be — not easy all the time, of course, but basically simple and compatible. But what if …fuck, what if there is some fundamental thing that is keeping me from being able to be in a real relationship?

I guess this shouldn’t be such a shock to me. I’m in therapy, obviously there are things about myself that can stand to undergo a major change. But with this, I don’t know, it feels like a huge hurdle. It feels like a way bigger hurdle even than the unnamed sadness I was fighting for so many months, because that almost felt like something outside of myself that I needed to purge.

But this…this is just me. And frankly, I don’t even know where to start.

Shout Out

Good evening, dear readers.  It’s the end of the weekend (*tear*) and I have a lot to write about, but I wanted to take the time to do a separate post about a blog that seems to be largely overlooked.  I forget how I started reading Playing With Matches, but it is worth checking out, and it is worth reading back through the archives for some of the most interesting and bizarre dating stories I’ve read/heard.  Some of my favorites are here, here and here.

Strangely, I seem to be one of only 1 or 2 people who comment on this blog, and I don’t understand why such an entertaining (and also sympathetic) blog wouldn’t have a bigger readership.  If you like stories of singlehood and dating and the perils that go with it, by all means, click on the above link and go give Tanasie some love.  What are you waiting for?

Back to Our Regularly Scheduled Programming

I have to admit, I’m sad that I’m done with my trip recaps already, because now I am faced with the daunting task of deciding what to write about.  I fear this will be very stream-of-consciousness; consider yourself warned!

Everyone has been lovely in welcoming me home, but I think no one is happier to see me than he is:

My beautiful furry friend has been following me around like a puppy, nuzzling me at every turn and even sleeping with me.  I hadn’t been sure whether my absence would provoke lots of love or vicious attacks upon my return, but thank god it’s the former!

Last night I went to a networky get together with my friend J.  A guy she knows who is also an attorney put it together.  He seems like one of those people who knows everyone and is really good about staying in touch with people and networking and shmoozing and all that good stuff.  I wholeheartedly admire people like that, but I myself am just not like that.  Don’t get me wrong, I actually love meeting new people.  I try to always be friendly, and given the right situation I can be really outgoing.  But sometimes in big groups I am more inclined to just hang back and take it all in.  And when it comes to marketing myself, I’m sometimes shy.  I never want to seem like I’m being pushy or obnoxious, so I feel like it’s a fine line.  My firm has gotten really gung ho about the marketing thing lately too — today we had a workshop on “elevator pitches.”  So I know this is something I need to work on.

Still, I’m never quite sure how others perceive me, so it’s always interesting to find out.  Last night one of the guys was extremely charming and gregarious and J. and I and two others were talking to him.  He turned to J. and said, “You look very Nordic.”  [We cracked up.  J. is petite and blond, but I think “Nordic” may be a first.]  Then he turned to me and said “You look very…tall.”  Then he continued, “…unassuming…and gentle.”

Hmm….okaaaay.  I suppose there is nothing particularly wrong with unassuming-ness.  And there’s certainly nothing wrong with being gentle.  I’m just not sure that’s the image I want to be projecting to the world.  In the dating world, unassuming is probably just code for boring, no?  And in business?  I mean, I’m a litigator for God’s sake!  If you were going to trial, would you hire the “unassuming and gentle” trial attorney?  Unassuming and gentle makes me sound like this:

 

So yeah…guess I need to work on that. 

Baaa.

Vacation Recap Part Trois: Paris

Jet lag is thoroughly kicking my single and fabulous bum this evening, dear readers, but I wanted to finish out the vacation trilogy so that I can begin to return to our regularly scheduled programming.  Plus, I suppose going to sleep at 8:20 pm wouldn’t help me get over the jet lag, would it?

So after my whirlwind tour of London, RL and I set out for Paris by train.  I highly recommend that way of getting from London to Paris or vice versa – it only costs about $100 if you buy ahead (it might have been even cheaper but I procrastinated) and took less than 2 1/2 hours and was a pleasant journey.  Our arrival in Paris was somewhat less than smooth.  We needed to buy Metro tickets to get to our hotel (way cheaper than taxi), but the ticket machine only took Euro coins (not bills) or credit cards.  We didn’t have any coins, and our credit cards didn’t work, and the ticket window with a live human was closed (it was about 9 pm), and the currency exchange place wouldn’t give us change.  I ended up having to hit up the ATM for Euro bills, then ask a woman at the bakery to take pity on me and give me change, so it worked out, but only after we’d shlepped around the train station for a good 20 minutes.

Other than that sorry welcome, I adored Paris as always.  The last time I was there, when I studied abroad in Madrid and spent a weekend there, it was a week before Christmas and was bitterly cold (but still beautiful).  I recall being up on the Eiffel Tower and hearing my teeth literally chattering.  But this time around, the weather was perfect — sunny and breezy and lovely.

The first night we were exhausted so we just shared a pizza and some wine at a local restaurant and hit the sack early.  The next day, we set out to explore Paris.  First up was the important task of finding breakfast, and we both had our little hearts set on crepes.  We walked around our neighborhood to no avail, including a cool open air market, and ended up walking across to Ile St. Louis, where we first got suckered into sitting down at a tourist trap restaurant.  We fled quickly when we saw that the only crepe on the menu was a dessert crepe for NINE euros!  (Aka, like 12 dollars.  Holy crap.)  We wandered down a nearby side street and were fortunate enough to stumble on a perfect little crepe stand where the crepes were a much more doable 4 euros and they were made up hot and to-go: Nutella and banana for me, cheese and egg for RL.  My mouth is watering just thinking about it.

Satisfied by our meal, we then strolled over to Notre Dame:

We then walked along checking out the various bridges.  Once it got to be lunchtime, we decided that we were going to do it up right and get our own little picnic.  We hit up a wine store, a cheese shop, a bakery, and a fruit stand and ended up with this:

 

 

First we sat on a nice grass lawn, but before we could even open the wine bottle, the police swooped down on us and tsk-tsked that we couldn’t drink in that particular area.  To add insult to injury, they looked at our bottle of wine and laughed at us!  (Ok, so it cost 3 Euro, but it was a 2003 Bordeaux and it tasted good to me – not like that says much…)  We relocated to a bench but we dubbed them the “wine police” and we kept seeing them throughout the afternoon:

I will elaborate more on this in another post because it will take longer to explain adequately, but in my time in Paris I was just loving the language and the city and the ambience and I told RL that my biggest regret in college was that even though I studied French, I never studied in France so I never really got comfortable with it or good at it.  I told her that I would love to live in Paris for a year and get fluent in French so I could be trilingual (I also speak Spanish).  And I said that if I were to do something like that, the time would be right now, before I have anything else tying me down.

And since I got back I have been researching what it would take to make this kind of leap.  It is daunting and seems very challenging, but not impossible.  Since I believe that where there is a will, there’s a way, I have all my feelers out, and we’ll see what happens!  It’s fun to keep my mind and heart open to these exciting possibilities, and to think about returning to something that I loved so many years ago and let fall by the wayside.

But I digress.  That night after walking all over and picnicking, RL and I met up for dinner with her friend S.  He is French but he lived in San Francisco for a while a few years ago, and they were roommates for a year.  He turned out to be a great guy – and yes, the very same fetching French boy I mentioned a couple of posts ago.  He was a little bit shy at first, but sweet and funny and cute and of course, the accent is absolutely adorable.  He sort of has a Penn Badgley look about him.  He took us to a traditional French brasserie and he and I shared a giant steak and fries – delicious!  We had a good time talking and laughing – luckily his English is amazingly good, because my French is embarrassing at this point.  We hung out with him two nights in a row, but I hate to disappoint my readers that it never became more than platonic.  (Nope – I didn’t smooch a single European man.  Sorry, all!)  There was a definite vibe between us, but as I said, he is shy and plus, RL was there the whole time so it wasn’t exactly conducive to makeout time.  The second night he showed us his apartment, and it was a tiny place (makes some studio apts i’ve seen in Hollywood look large by comparison) but it also had the most gorgeous view I’ve ever seen — a 180 degree view of Paris, including the Eiffel Tower.  So anyway, we said our goodbyes and he had asked for my info, so I gave him my card, and he told me that if I ever came back to Paris he would show me more of the city and other parts of France.  Yesterday he wrote me a totally cute email, saying that he had a really good time hanging out with RL and me, and that my visit was too short.

Wouldn’t it figure that this happens with a guy who lives on a different continent?  Oh well – I guess there is no harm in crushing, is there?

I will leave you, dear readers, with a couple more photos – can’t go to Paris without seeing these, after all.

Au revoir until next time!

Vacation Recap Part I – Lakes District

Hello my dear readers!  I arrived back home yesterday night and am fairly jetlagged, but not as bad as I have been in the past – I swear I recall, when coming back from studying abroad in Madrid in college (eight years ago!  scary), crawling into my bed at my parents’ house and sleeping for a week.  So this feels like a piece of cake.   And it was such a fabulous trip, it was totally worth it!  I took about 300 photos on my trip, but I’ll just choose the highlights for you.  Also, (surprise surprise), I brought my little journal with me but I only wrote in it while waiting in London-Heathrow on the way there and the way back.  Oops.

Anyway, it really was the perfect trip.  I began my trip in the Lakes District of England — Keswick, to be exact — for my best friend M.’s wedding celebration.  Anyone who is a fan of hiking nd other outdoorsy pursuits (and doesn’t mind rainy weather) should plan a trip there immediately.  It is so gorgeous and lush and green, and the towns are darling and cobblestone-street-filled.  I was so inspired by the scenery, and by my desire to both see as much of M. as I could and to make the most of my vacation that I went hiking 3 days in a row, and despite some huffing and puffing on my part (which has now made me resolve to get in shape again), I really enjoyed it. 

Here are some photos from the first hike:

It was the only truly sunny day of my stay in Keswick, and it was perfect temperature on the trail.  There was one setback, however — the hiking boots I borrowed from a friend waited until we were 2 – 2 1/2 hours into the hike, then the soles began to just peel off!!  We were about 2/5 of the way through the hike, so we turned back, but not before we created the following temporary fix out of the wrist straps for our walking poles, some string we found lying around, and some athletic tape:

And I made it back down the mountain in one piece – though the hiking boots ended up in the rubbish bin and I switched to M.’s trail runners for the rest of the weekend – luckily we wear the same size!

The day after that first hike it was pouring rain, and that was the day of the mountaintop ring exchange.  We all trekked up there in full rain gear (which I had to borrow — I think I had been overly optimistic about the weather when I packed!).  Despite the weather, it couldn’t have been more perfect.  M.’s husband, CC, gave a really heartwarming (and tear-inducing) speech about how much he loves her and how he wanted a chance to declare his love in front of their friends and family.  We were all there, huddled in the rain, watching my dearest friend and her husband, two people who are so in love — it was beautiful. 

Later that evening, we changed into our party clothes and got down to the business of eating and drinking.  M.’s brother is now a chef, so he cooked up a fabulous meal — salmon, sundried tomato risotto and salad, followed by chai tea creme brulee:

And of course, wedding cake — Irish fruitcake homemade by the groom’s mom:

The rest of the night was mellow, caused by food/wine/champagne induced coma!

All in all, it’s hard to convey just what a wonderful few days it was: such a great group of people, such a wonderful celebration, so much joy and laughter.

More on London and Paris, including photos, in upcoming posts.  Stay tuned for tales of a fetching French boy and some restaurant misadventures with my friend RL!

How Dating Makes Me Feel (Part II)

I know what you’re thinking, dear readers.  SF, in the name of all that’s holy. when are you going to stop posting pictures of cats on your blog?

My answer is: when it stops amusing me.  And I’m easily amused.  And I love cats.  So you may be in for a bit of a wait.  Sorry!

Anyway, the point of this post is that I need some advice from those of you out there in online-dating land who manage to successfully email with scads of potential suitors and go on oodles of dates.  How do you accomplish this, my friends?  Right now I am emailing with a handful of guys (and going out with one tomorrow – update to come) but it seems so incredibly time consuming.  I have to read their emails, read their profile, answer all their questions, think of questions to ask them, be witty…by the time I hit “send” I feel utterly exhausted!  And that’s just in the emailing phase – how in the world could I handle multiple mens in real life??  I know I need to put myself out there, but I feel like I become more of a homebody as I get older and I also relish my nights alone with Noodles and a good book.

I’ve also tried to put myself out there in real life lately, but have discovered that if I ever had any game — and I feel so rusty that it’s hard to recall — I clearly have lost my game now.  Behold the following encounter from this past Sunday:

INT. TARGET STORE- DAYTIME.  SF, tall late 20s brunette, walks slowly and aimlessly down the center aisle with basket in hand.  Looking down one aisle, SF spots TALL CUTE GUY.  SF tries to look casual as she veers into that aisle.

TALL CUTE GUY sees SF as she approaches and gives her a big smile.  He is tall, brown hair, wearing jeans and a checkered shirt.  He looks decidedly single and heterosexual, even though this is the Target in WeHo.

SF (pretending to look at shaving cream): Gosh, there are just so many choices these days.  Aluring Avocado?  What is that?

TCG (laughing): So many choices, huh?  I know what you mean, it makes my brain hurt.

TCG goes back to looking at some manly product.

SF is suddenly shy.  She doesn’t know what to say next.  She puts the shaving cream in her basket and waits a couple of beats.  She opens her mouth to speak then decides against it and walks away.

SF didn’t even need the damn shaving cream.

And…..scene!  Tragic, isn’t it?  I’m sure there is some clever way I could have pushed things further, but I totally froze.  What’s a girl to say/do in that situation?

Ok, now I am really tired.  More on my date tomorrow…

Is It Just Me?

As my dear readers know, on Friday night/Saturday morning, after an evening of barhopping in downtown L.A., some Jameson’s and some unsuccessful flirting with boys, I returned home and zipped off a nasty email to EHB.  It would require a lot more background to explain what led me to do this than I really want to go into here, but the short(ish) version is this.  As you know, we had a fabulous 1st date followed by several more dates.  These dates included him forcing, in a very backward way (by his “ask me anything” game), some heart to hearts in which I revealed some of my relationship fears.  Our dates also included a couple of memorable sleepovers.  Then, on our last date, last Sunday, at a concert I had brought him to with my co-workers, I asked him if he was dating other people and he said yes, he was dating other people but not sleeping with other people.  He wanted to talk more about our relationship but given the exceedingly poor timing/venue I didn’t want to.  Also at the concert, he was looking at the calendar on his BlackBerry, I joked about whether I could get penciled in for the following week, and he listed off activities for every night of the week except “maybe Friday.”  He had to leave early, and the next day (a week ago today) he sent me a Gmail chat saying “we’ll have our conversation soon! 🙂 ”

Now, I know he has been exceptionally busy at work.  But I also know that his BlackBerry is practically an appendage.  He has blatantly texted and emailed friends in my presence (much to my annoyance – can you at least try to keep that under wraps the 1st few dates?)  So I didn’t think it was too much to ask that he might send me a text or email during the week.  But no — the entire week passed with radio silence.  No “hey how are you,” no trying to make plans, nothing. 

So, bottom line is, I was pissed.  And I drafted an email.  The email said, in essence, that I was disappointed and pissed that after all the heart-to-hearts in which I confessed my fears and he told me he wouldn’t be like the others, he was EXACTLY like all the others. 

And I was tipsy.  And I hit send.

At the time, I really didn’t expect him to respond.  But sure enough, after not hearing anything all weekend, today I received a novel-length email from him.  I have grappled with whether to share this with the internets, but I decided it’s the only way I can get the reality check I want.   Here goes:

Hey SF,

I have been thinking for a while about how to respond.  I can definitely say that you are reacting differently than the situation warrants.  I have not “up and left”, (note from SF – I did NOT use the expression “up and left”), rather have been dealing with a hectic week (last week), workload, change in business direction, and have been having enough problems with my heart (SVT) that I’m going to see a cardiologist.  Last week while trying to exercise, my heart rate was 216 bpm after running about 30 feet. I can assure you I’ve had a lot going on.

So… having told me that you are pissed off really makes me wonder where you are coming from and what I have done to you.  I did not intend to hurt you in any way and in fact work with a therapist (as you know) in trying to understand the best way to operate in any kind of relationship  When I said at the concert that we both should be continuing to try to meet people, that is actually a very healthy thing to do (per expert advice).  It seems you took away from our discussion that I wasn’t interested.

You deserve a lot and you are a fantastic and intelligent person.  I think you have–just as I do–plenty of work to do in understanding your feelings in a relationship and knowing how to react to someone else’s actions and not make assumptions.  Your reaction and response below made me a little sad, but definitely speaks to the fact that if there is a kind of tension or some set of expectations beyond what we have ever discussed I cannot interact with you because it would be a negative situation for both of us.  We really hadn’t talked much about what to expect, so getting this cathartic email was a bit of a surprise.

I don’t know where this leaves us, but I do know that I have a lot of work to do, need to stay focused so work doesn’t keep stressing me out, get in shape and figure out my heart thing, and I’ll be traveling often in the next three weeks.  Take care, and if you want to talk later, feel free to reach out.

EHB

***

Ok, dear readers.  Time to give it to me straight.  Three questions: 1) Was I a total loon to react by sending that email in the 1st place?  2) Am I wrong to be thoroughly annoyed by his response? and finally 3) Do I respond and, if so, what do I say?

Pls help.  Thx.

Countdown to vacation!

In a mere 5 days, I will be in Las Vegas with some of my favorite people in the world, celebrating the last days of bachelorette-hood of my friend S.  And in a mere 9 days, I will be on a Virgin Atlantic flight en route to London!!!!  I will be attending the wedding celebration festivities of my oldest friend M. (we have been BFFs since we were 7) and then seeing my college roommate who lives in London.  I can’t wait!!!

Two things need to happen before then, though.

First, I need to figure out what in the world I am going to pack!!  Vegas is easy — cute going-out outfits, my new bikini (yes, I bought the Jcrew one and it is cute!), check and check.  But for the Europe trip I am totally baffled.  I will be gone for 12 days.  I will be visiting Keswick (Lake District, England), London, and Paris.  I will be doing all of the following: kayaking/canoeing; hiking (M. and her hubby are doing the ring exchange atop a mountain – more on that later); attending a fancy wedding dinner party; traveling by plane and train; sightseeing all over London and Paris; and hopefully enjoying some London/Paris nightlife.  The only things so far that I know I am bringing are hiking boots, my new digital camera, and my dress for M.’s wedding celebration:

(By the way, obtaining this dress was no easy feat.  I went to many stores — Nordstrom, Macy’s, BCBG, etc, and endured one very pushy gay salesman at BCBG who wanted to dress me in something that looked straight out of Star Trek, before finally discovering this dress at Ann Taylor.)

Anyway, I want to make sure I have everything I need for my trip, but I also want to bring the smallest suitcase possible so it’s not too rough on all the trains I’ll be taking.  Therefore, I don’t have the luxury of bringing my entire closet or shoe collection.  And I am very indecisive.  And the hiking boots will take up 1/2 the suitcase.  Gah!  Help!

The second and even more troubling thing that needs to happen is that my knee needs to heal.   I really can’t explain what happened, but during my Friday night barhopping adventure, my knee started to hurt.  I didn’t think too much of it at the time, but when I awoke yesterday I found that I was still hobbling and limping around and my knee felt like I had twisted it.  I have spent the remainder of the weekend, when I am home, intermittently icing and elevating the knee.  (That frozen Kung Pao Chicken meal from Trader Joe’s is really coming in handy.)  Today it feels a bit better, and in any other week I wouldn’t really care, because I’m sure it will heal relatively soon.  But I am going to (hopefully!) be doing lots of walking/hiking over the next 2 1/2 weeks, and I can’t afford to be impaired in any way.  Especially since I am not exaggerating when I say that I am one of the least athletic people I know, so I am already worried about keeping up with everyone while hiking in England.  (Note – the hiking boots are borrowed bc I don’t own any myself!)**  Oy.  And I can’t miss the ring exchange, so even if it hurts I WILL be hobbling up that mountain.

Okay, when I say that “out loud” it doesn’t sound like the smartest idea.  We’ll see…

**It has been suggested by a matchmaking fellow blogger that GeekHiker and I should go out.  To which I have to respond that GeekHiker clearly needs a girl who, you know, likes to hike.  🙂