A few of you have pointed out that I've left some gaping holes in the Lumberjack Saga, as I just jumped in in medias res this week. So today the VodkaTonic hipster got the whole back story, which we now share with you....
VodkaTonic: Any update on the lumberjack? Does the lumberjack predate buying the house?
Me: All happened around the same time. I met the lumberjack when I moved to Boston.
VodkaTonic: Oh yeah, good choice not letting him work on your house. Not that he might not do a great job, but if he did a bad job, then you would be fucked.
Me: Exactly.
VodkaTonic: And you have, or have not, gone on a date?
Me: Depends on what you call a date. We had this one night that definitely felt like a date, except that he didn't kiss me at the end of it.
VodkaTonic: Where did you meet?
Me: Through friends. First there was a drinking outing. He was kind of obnoxious, and we didn't talk much, and later I didn't even remember him. Then like a week later, there was a group dinner outing, like a dozen of us, and he and I sat together, and talked the whole time, and it was amazing. After dinner, a few of the dozen went for a drink, and he picked the perfect bar. Then after drinks a few of us went for a walk to sober up, and we found a playground and played on it, and it continued to be fabulous.
Me: The next week, we talked on the phone for a while, and he said he'd help me refinish some furniture. Then after that we were talking like every day.
Me: We saw fireworks together on the 4th, just him and me, but he didn't kiss me. But then he got pissy at a party when another guy was talking to me.
VodkaTonic: The playground is really cute. And he is sooo interested.
Me: Then he went on a business trip for two weeks and I didn't see him.
VodkaTonic: You just aren't being aggressive.
Me: And when he came back, we went out on Friday with the group, and we bickered all night, but Saturday he promised he’d be nice if I came out. So we went to a show, and he was so sweet, and then we went back to his house, and stood in his kitchen and ate ice cream out of the container together. Then he showed me all the work he’d done on his house, and then we went to the attic.
VodkaTonic: oh god that is so cute
Me: And he'd strung lights from the rafters, and it started to rain, and we could hear it right over our heads on the roof. And we were standing close.
Me: And HE DIDN"T KISS ME!
VodkaTonic: I think that you need to kiss him.
Me: Fuck that.
VodkaTonic: The girl needs to start these things.
Me: I hate always having to be the aggressor.
VodkaTonic: Guys are pussies.
Me: no shit
VodkaTonic: But guys think it’s hot.
Me: Whatever. So then he went away again for another week of business trip, and then when he came back, he had this whole plan that he was going to pack a bag and come over my house and do the work on the kitchen. Then shower at my place, and we were going to go out. The whole thing sounded like a pretense to have to stay over.
VodkaTonic: Yeah kinda
Me: He even wanted me to come pick him up, so then he wouldn't have a car. So you know he'd end up staying over. And I was all for the plan, but then he cancelled, and came over Saturday morning instead -- in his own car.
VodkaTonic: what was the reason?
Me: None given. He is stingy with details of his life.
VodkaTonic: hmmmm, I don't think I like that.
Me: Me neither. But he spent the whole Saturday with me, and my kitchen, and my friend who was visiting. And it was a great day, and he was so nice to my friend. And we went swimming, and he did not kiss me, but at least this time we were with other people, so there was a reason.
Me: Then suddenly last week, he was always busy and we didn't see each other. Then last night he said that sweet thing about why he wanted to help me with my house, but I wanted to see him before he leaves on the next trip and he said no.
Me: So I told him, “I'm going to stop now, because I can't do anymore and still be socially acceptable, without embarrassing myself. The ball is now in your court.”
VodkaTonic: You actually spoke all this?
Me: Yup!
VodkaTonic: oh my god talk about confusing! This man sounds like he could be great and could also never make a move and completely lose his chance.
Me: Exactly! I mean, how many perfect moments can he waste by not kissing me? Fireworks, rain on the attic roof, swimming at sunset?
VodkaTonic: Sounds like you need to definitely put it on ice for a week.
Me: Yeah. Last night I was as clear as I could stomach. Now I need a vacation. Good thing he’s leaving town tomorrow.
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query lumberjack. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query lumberjack. Sort by date Show all posts
Monday, August 07, 2006
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
More female trouble
A bit of stream of consciousness about something that's been making me feel creepy all day. Summarized from an IM with my darling bf:
Last St. Patrick's day, we were all at the bar, and the Lumberjack was there with his new undergrad girlfriend, who he'd met at a party in January. And I was sad, cried later, because it was the nail in the coffin that nothing was ever going to happen with us.
But it wasn't just that. There was something else that night that made me sad.
The Storm.
Storm had been friends with the Usual Suspects before I'd moved back home and met all these hooligans. Also, the Lumberjack used to cheat on his last girlfriend with her, but as far as I ever heard, they'd never actually dated for real. Since then, there had been some kind of falling out between Storm and the U.S., but she was still friends with 'Jack. But because of the circumstances, everything was hazy and unspoken by the time I started meeting these people.
I met Storm because 'Jack started bringing her to PubNight. Again, no one was talking, really, neither 'Jack nor the U.S., but as I understood it, 'Jack wasn't taking part in the falling out/shunning, so he brought his friend out, with no apologies nor explanations.
Now,
1. I liked her, she made a good first impression
2. I like 'Jack, and as such wanted to be friends with his friends, and know what's going on in his life. So I talked to her, we hit it off. And I want to make my own judgment about this new person I've met.
But she lives far away, and only seems to come to the area with him. So I'm beginning to notice that indeed, she is a little fucked up; the U.S aren't totally off-base. But still, I want to judge on my own.
Turns out Storm is still hung up on the Lumberjack. But she also has this boyfriend up where she lives. So she's been sublimating her romantic feelings into a friendship, like you do.
ANYway...
St. Pat's day, at the bar. Most of the Usual Suspects are there, as are 'Jack and his undergrad, and Storm and her guy, and me. The Undergrad is stuck to 'Jack like glue, and taking every opportunity to point out that he is HERS. While 'Jack pulls her aside to tell her to Chill, Storm asks me who the hell that is. I explain that she's 'Jack's new teeniebopper girlfriend, and Storm FLIPS OUT.
This is a woman with a boyfriend.
So part of the reason I was so sad after St. Paddy's was that I looked at Storm, who was the "other woman" for this guy with no honest and public relationship coming of it, and who now had a boyfriend and was still hung up on him. And I said to myself, "I do not want to be this woman. I tried, it didn't work, I need to move on. I deserve better."
And I mourned a little, but I did move on.
I also found out that night that Storm was moving back to the area -- in fact, right around the corner from me! So we'd exchanged phone numbers, and said we were going to hang out. She was supposed to move April 1.
The first week in April, she calls me, says "sorry I haven't checked in yet, turns out I'm moving April 15, everything's a mess."
I'm all, that's cool; let me know when you're settled in.
And then, she starts grilling me on 'Jack and the undergrad.
She's bullshit; starts in all -- APPARENTLY he's not her friend anymore, APPARENTLY he doesn't value her, if he's keeping these secrets from her. She says she HAS a boyfriend, she doesn't NEED 'Jack, et cetera.
I try to calm her, try to dissociate, get off the phone. She says she'll call me after she moves and settles in, and I don't here from her ever again.
That was almost exactly a year ago.
Since then, Storm always comes up when I run the Friend Finder on Facebook, but I never friend her, because she's not my friend. Today, when I ran it, though, something caught my eye.
Storm's new profile pic is a picture of her in a hospital bed, wearing a hospital gown...
with last year's boyfriend next to her....
and she's holding a newborn.
Yup, they had a baby a month ago.
So basically, she gave up on the Lumberjack, and got knocked up in short order.
Way to move on!
Honestly, this is great for her, she looks happy, and moving on was clearly the right thing to do. And she's engaged to the baby's father.
But I can't help it, the timing of it just makes me go ew ew ew.
Am I right? B says that's a fucked up story, full of fucked up people and fucked up decisions and fucked up emotions, and yes, ew.
I've been creeped out all day, so just wanted to share. (though I know this is not the breeding story I have been promising you, sorry...)
Last St. Patrick's day, we were all at the bar, and the Lumberjack was there with his new undergrad girlfriend, who he'd met at a party in January. And I was sad, cried later, because it was the nail in the coffin that nothing was ever going to happen with us.
But it wasn't just that. There was something else that night that made me sad.
The Storm.
Storm had been friends with the Usual Suspects before I'd moved back home and met all these hooligans. Also, the Lumberjack used to cheat on his last girlfriend with her, but as far as I ever heard, they'd never actually dated for real. Since then, there had been some kind of falling out between Storm and the U.S., but she was still friends with 'Jack. But because of the circumstances, everything was hazy and unspoken by the time I started meeting these people.
I met Storm because 'Jack started bringing her to PubNight. Again, no one was talking, really, neither 'Jack nor the U.S., but as I understood it, 'Jack wasn't taking part in the falling out/shunning, so he brought his friend out, with no apologies nor explanations.
Now,
1. I liked her, she made a good first impression
2. I like 'Jack, and as such wanted to be friends with his friends, and know what's going on in his life. So I talked to her, we hit it off. And I want to make my own judgment about this new person I've met.
But she lives far away, and only seems to come to the area with him. So I'm beginning to notice that indeed, she is a little fucked up; the U.S aren't totally off-base. But still, I want to judge on my own.
Turns out Storm is still hung up on the Lumberjack. But she also has this boyfriend up where she lives. So she's been sublimating her romantic feelings into a friendship, like you do.
ANYway...
St. Pat's day, at the bar. Most of the Usual Suspects are there, as are 'Jack and his undergrad, and Storm and her guy, and me. The Undergrad is stuck to 'Jack like glue, and taking every opportunity to point out that he is HERS. While 'Jack pulls her aside to tell her to Chill, Storm asks me who the hell that is. I explain that she's 'Jack's new teeniebopper girlfriend, and Storm FLIPS OUT.
This is a woman with a boyfriend.
So part of the reason I was so sad after St. Paddy's was that I looked at Storm, who was the "other woman" for this guy with no honest and public relationship coming of it, and who now had a boyfriend and was still hung up on him. And I said to myself, "I do not want to be this woman. I tried, it didn't work, I need to move on. I deserve better."
And I mourned a little, but I did move on.
I also found out that night that Storm was moving back to the area -- in fact, right around the corner from me! So we'd exchanged phone numbers, and said we were going to hang out. She was supposed to move April 1.
The first week in April, she calls me, says "sorry I haven't checked in yet, turns out I'm moving April 15, everything's a mess."
I'm all, that's cool; let me know when you're settled in.
And then, she starts grilling me on 'Jack and the undergrad.
She's bullshit; starts in all -- APPARENTLY he's not her friend anymore, APPARENTLY he doesn't value her, if he's keeping these secrets from her. She says she HAS a boyfriend, she doesn't NEED 'Jack, et cetera.
I try to calm her, try to dissociate, get off the phone. She says she'll call me after she moves and settles in, and I don't here from her ever again.
That was almost exactly a year ago.
Since then, Storm always comes up when I run the Friend Finder on Facebook, but I never friend her, because she's not my friend. Today, when I ran it, though, something caught my eye.
Storm's new profile pic is a picture of her in a hospital bed, wearing a hospital gown...
with last year's boyfriend next to her....
and she's holding a newborn.
Yup, they had a baby a month ago.
So basically, she gave up on the Lumberjack, and got knocked up in short order.
Way to move on!
Honestly, this is great for her, she looks happy, and moving on was clearly the right thing to do. And she's engaged to the baby's father.
But I can't help it, the timing of it just makes me go ew ew ew.
Am I right? B says that's a fucked up story, full of fucked up people and fucked up decisions and fucked up emotions, and yes, ew.
I've been creeped out all day, so just wanted to share. (though I know this is not the breeding story I have been promising you, sorry...)
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Happy Lumberjack Day!
Holy, maple-soaked crap! Lumberjack Day was last week, and I missed it! Admittedly, I was in Italy for a funeral, and also I'm totally disenamored of the Lumberjack, but still... how about that Zeitgeist, hmm?
Friday, August 18, 2006
deep cleansing breaths
Hmm.
Well, one drink would have been fine. But I had two.
Which would have been NOTHING back in my harder partying days in New York. But I have noticed that in the few short months since I've been back in Boston, my tolerance has gone way down. So I got a little tipsy, as my intern/the bar hostess put it. But what was stranger was that I didn't expect it or see it coming at all, as I'd only had two drinks, and with food too. So I made a couple of possibly ill-advised phone calls, got the intern laughing and Von shaking her head, and then went home and crashed immediately.
And today intern told me that their cocktails are notoriously strong, and each one is kind of the equivalent of two, and that they only let her have one when she's working there. So that explains a bit. Still, next time I'm sticking to the virgin drinks.
As for the move, here's what I have to do:
1. have electrician do some rewiring
2. have contractor reverse the hang of the door
3. have cleaning crew clean the place -- they came this morning
4. have the HVAC system flushed -- the HVAC guy says all I need to do is vacuum it out, but the house inspector had made it sound more complicated. So I called the Lumberjack last night to ask his opinion, and he didn't answer, nor did he call back or e-mail. Pout.
5. have the washer/dryer delivered -- scheduled for Sunday
6. have the fridge delivered -- scheduled for Tuesday
7. have the movers drop off my stuff -- scheduled for Tuesday.
I'd like to get the rest of the stuff done this weekend before the movers come, but I haven't been able to reach the electrician, and I'm currently pouting that the cleaners came before I was able to finish all the dust-generating construction work. As for what help I need, I basically need company while they're moving stuff in, because it's good to have more than one person supervising. The real help I'll need is unpacking, which will happen later, of course.
Now, here's what sucks the worst. The contractor that will rehang the door would have also done the cabinets, but for some reason I wanted to have the IKEA guys do that. And apparently he also does electrical work. So I could have had the cabinets, door, and electric all done two weeks ago, if I weren't so committed to making bad choices and making everything more complicated than it needs to be.
In fact, I'm so stressed about the move that I wept in A's arms in the middle of the Square a few nights ago. No, really, it's so bad -- I can't get the electrician to come, I'm worried that the work I've already had done isn't very good (they have to come back next week to fix it). It should have been easier than this, and my parents are in Italy, and things just keep going wrong, and I waited almost two months to move in so that things would be taken care of, and now they're not anyway, so I hyperventilate. I make things more difficult than they have to be; this was supposed to be exciting, not stressful.
Manda agrees that I'm spending too much time trying to make everything perfect, when I should be making it as easy for myself as I can. But she also, sweetheart that she is, assured me that I'm not alienating everyone, and not terrible, just a perfectionist.
Still, I think I lost the Lumberjack over this. He's barely spoken to me since the cabinet incident. Manda thinks that maybe he's giving me space to freak out, and he figures I'll call him if I need him. Except that I did call him last night and I did need him, and he neither answered nor called me back. Maybe he's waiting for the crazy moving stress to pass, or maybe he's sick of me, now that he's seen me at my craziest. Either way, he's not here whenI need him.
I can barely concentrate on work, but I must, because there may be big changes afoot. Work & moving. That's all I should have in my life right now. Once that's all settled, then Manda will give me permission to fuss over the 'Jack.
I can't move into my house and I am going to get fired. Sigh. I think I need some tea, and a boyfriend, or else I'm joining a convent. Which would conveniently resolve both the housing and the romance issues.
Well, one drink would have been fine. But I had two.
Which would have been NOTHING back in my harder partying days in New York. But I have noticed that in the few short months since I've been back in Boston, my tolerance has gone way down. So I got a little tipsy, as my intern/the bar hostess put it. But what was stranger was that I didn't expect it or see it coming at all, as I'd only had two drinks, and with food too. So I made a couple of possibly ill-advised phone calls, got the intern laughing and Von shaking her head, and then went home and crashed immediately.
And today intern told me that their cocktails are notoriously strong, and each one is kind of the equivalent of two, and that they only let her have one when she's working there. So that explains a bit. Still, next time I'm sticking to the virgin drinks.
As for the move, here's what I have to do:
1. have electrician do some rewiring
2. have contractor reverse the hang of the door
3. have cleaning crew clean the place -- they came this morning
4. have the HVAC system flushed -- the HVAC guy says all I need to do is vacuum it out, but the house inspector had made it sound more complicated. So I called the Lumberjack last night to ask his opinion, and he didn't answer, nor did he call back or e-mail. Pout.
5. have the washer/dryer delivered -- scheduled for Sunday
6. have the fridge delivered -- scheduled for Tuesday
7. have the movers drop off my stuff -- scheduled for Tuesday.
I'd like to get the rest of the stuff done this weekend before the movers come, but I haven't been able to reach the electrician, and I'm currently pouting that the cleaners came before I was able to finish all the dust-generating construction work. As for what help I need, I basically need company while they're moving stuff in, because it's good to have more than one person supervising. The real help I'll need is unpacking, which will happen later, of course.
Now, here's what sucks the worst. The contractor that will rehang the door would have also done the cabinets, but for some reason I wanted to have the IKEA guys do that. And apparently he also does electrical work. So I could have had the cabinets, door, and electric all done two weeks ago, if I weren't so committed to making bad choices and making everything more complicated than it needs to be.
In fact, I'm so stressed about the move that I wept in A's arms in the middle of the Square a few nights ago. No, really, it's so bad -- I can't get the electrician to come, I'm worried that the work I've already had done isn't very good (they have to come back next week to fix it). It should have been easier than this, and my parents are in Italy, and things just keep going wrong, and I waited almost two months to move in so that things would be taken care of, and now they're not anyway, so I hyperventilate. I make things more difficult than they have to be; this was supposed to be exciting, not stressful.
Manda agrees that I'm spending too much time trying to make everything perfect, when I should be making it as easy for myself as I can. But she also, sweetheart that she is, assured me that I'm not alienating everyone, and not terrible, just a perfectionist.
Still, I think I lost the Lumberjack over this. He's barely spoken to me since the cabinet incident. Manda thinks that maybe he's giving me space to freak out, and he figures I'll call him if I need him. Except that I did call him last night and I did need him, and he neither answered nor called me back. Maybe he's waiting for the crazy moving stress to pass, or maybe he's sick of me, now that he's seen me at my craziest. Either way, he's not here whenI need him.
I can barely concentrate on work, but I must, because there may be big changes afoot. Work & moving. That's all I should have in my life right now. Once that's all settled, then Manda will give me permission to fuss over the 'Jack.
I can't move into my house and I am going to get fired. Sigh. I think I need some tea, and a boyfriend, or else I'm joining a convent. Which would conveniently resolve both the housing and the romance issues.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Caution - Whitecaps: Raging stream of consciousness ahead
You know what sucks about my new job?
I am no longer anywhere near the youngest in the office anymore, so I can no longer get away with being cute and charming to engender the goodwill that makes my job so easy to do. In addition, I am now far too old to be the kid in the office with the crazy social life who needs patience, compassion, and and some good boy advice.
I'm still not sure if it's a cause, or just a coincidence, that I fell for the Lumberjack while I was doing work on the new house. I've always liked a man who's handy around the house, and there were so few of them in New York. (Stef was taken, and the Cokehead Alcoholic was tolerated for as long as he was in large part because of his household skills.) Honestly, I was first interested after the dinner where we talked all night, and he was funny and we were right in synch. But it was after Ave told me about his woodworking tendencies that I had a reason to call him, and we had something to share.
And I know for a fact that after I saw his house, and all the beautiful work he'd done on it, that my heart skipped a beat and I gave up younger men for real. Younger men have crappy messy apartments, not lovely homes with bead board and fine detailing.
So here's where I went stupid. I asked him to do the cabinet work on my kitchen. As soon as I said it I regretted it. I've been very hesitant with this house. It took me forever to actually make an offer, and I considered pulling out a couple of times. Now it's over a month after I closed, and I'm still nowhere near moving in. Mum reminds me that when I was little, I wouldn't even wear new shoes until they'd been sitting around in the closet for a long while. I am very hesitant and cautious with new ventures, and I get skittish when someone steamrolls ahead of me.
So when the Lumberjack came over with all his tools, ready to rip cabinets out of my walls then and there, I freaked. What if he did a bad job? He seemed too confident, so I worried that he hadn't considered all the possible complications. What if he hurt himself? And would he let me pay him? Was he more likely to be insulted if I did offer, or if I didn't?
Really, I was a mess. Part of me loved that he wanted to do it for me; part of me just wanted him to refer me to a good person he trusted. And I felt like he was taking over, and he hasn't even kissed me yet.
So I told him I'd decided not to do the work at all.
Then I got a few more estimates from contractors. And 'Jack didn't talk to me for days.
Now I have one contractor coming Saturday morning to do the cabinets, a second contractor coming on Saturday afternoon to rehang the bathroom door -- and really, how am I going to explain to those two why neither of them are doing both jobs? But that's a separate issue.
And 'Jack was pouting today, and wouldn't let me come over to use his saw and pick up some wood and give him his thanks-you gift, and just kept saying "you should have let me do it the other day." And he sounded so angry that instead of being honest and telling him I got scared of mixing my personal life with my contracting job (as SereneRandomness so eloquently put it), I told him that I was afraid he might get hurt.
I am afraid of doing something wrong with this house. And I am afraid of doing something wrong with this guy, who I really do like. And somehow, I have combined these two disasters, and now he is leaving and I lied to him.
But at least there's a chance that the house will come out good....
I am no longer anywhere near the youngest in the office anymore, so I can no longer get away with being cute and charming to engender the goodwill that makes my job so easy to do. In addition, I am now far too old to be the kid in the office with the crazy social life who needs patience, compassion, and and some good boy advice.
I'm still not sure if it's a cause, or just a coincidence, that I fell for the Lumberjack while I was doing work on the new house. I've always liked a man who's handy around the house, and there were so few of them in New York. (Stef was taken, and the Cokehead Alcoholic was tolerated for as long as he was in large part because of his household skills.) Honestly, I was first interested after the dinner where we talked all night, and he was funny and we were right in synch. But it was after Ave told me about his woodworking tendencies that I had a reason to call him, and we had something to share.
And I know for a fact that after I saw his house, and all the beautiful work he'd done on it, that my heart skipped a beat and I gave up younger men for real. Younger men have crappy messy apartments, not lovely homes with bead board and fine detailing.
So here's where I went stupid. I asked him to do the cabinet work on my kitchen. As soon as I said it I regretted it. I've been very hesitant with this house. It took me forever to actually make an offer, and I considered pulling out a couple of times. Now it's over a month after I closed, and I'm still nowhere near moving in. Mum reminds me that when I was little, I wouldn't even wear new shoes until they'd been sitting around in the closet for a long while. I am very hesitant and cautious with new ventures, and I get skittish when someone steamrolls ahead of me.
So when the Lumberjack came over with all his tools, ready to rip cabinets out of my walls then and there, I freaked. What if he did a bad job? He seemed too confident, so I worried that he hadn't considered all the possible complications. What if he hurt himself? And would he let me pay him? Was he more likely to be insulted if I did offer, or if I didn't?
Really, I was a mess. Part of me loved that he wanted to do it for me; part of me just wanted him to refer me to a good person he trusted. And I felt like he was taking over, and he hasn't even kissed me yet.
So I told him I'd decided not to do the work at all.
Then I got a few more estimates from contractors. And 'Jack didn't talk to me for days.
Now I have one contractor coming Saturday morning to do the cabinets, a second contractor coming on Saturday afternoon to rehang the bathroom door -- and really, how am I going to explain to those two why neither of them are doing both jobs? But that's a separate issue.
And 'Jack was pouting today, and wouldn't let me come over to use his saw and pick up some wood and give him his thanks-you gift, and just kept saying "you should have let me do it the other day." And he sounded so angry that instead of being honest and telling him I got scared of mixing my personal life with my contracting job (as SereneRandomness so eloquently put it), I told him that I was afraid he might get hurt.
I am afraid of doing something wrong with this house. And I am afraid of doing something wrong with this guy, who I really do like. And somehow, I have combined these two disasters, and now he is leaving and I lied to him.
But at least there's a chance that the house will come out good....
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Riding the single woman zeitgeist
To summarize, a few things about me --
Despite all these facts, it might surprise you to know that I did not write this article.
But I could have, clearly. Not only that, I should have (why am I not writing more?).
I also should have read this article several years ago, when it still might have done me some good.
Recently, the Lumberjack, the Captain, and a former boss have all put the moves on me in some way or another. It really doesn't help an indecisive type such as myself to be all "strong bidder" like this, when really I should just settle (down) and get married, already.
Sigh.
- I canceled an engagement when I was 21, because I thought the guy wasn't stable enough to build a family with. (oh, by the way, his wife and five-year-old son seem to think he's doing a fine job these days.)
- I dumped a guy when I was 25 because I was intimidated by his family wealth. Also, I thought he didn't believe in marriage and didn't want kids. Last I heard, he's still married to the woman he got pregnant two months after we broke up. They have at least one other kid.
- I thought the series finales of both Friends and Sex and the City were ridiculous, because the most recent reuniting of the couples gave me no reassurance that they woudn't break up again as they had countless times before.
- I am currently trying to conceive a baby with donor sperm -- I have another insemination attempt scheduled for tomorrow -- because I am 37 and unmarried.
- I have a sweet boyfriend who is a good man and adores me, but I refuse to marry him because of religious and philosophical differences, but also because I'm just not feeling it in my gut.
- My Dances-with-Wolves-style Indian name is Paralyzed By Indecision
- I recently watched the movie Say Anything
Despite all these facts, it might surprise you to know that I did not write this article.
But I could have, clearly. Not only that, I should have (why am I not writing more?).
I also should have read this article several years ago, when it still might have done me some good.
Recently, the Lumberjack, the Captain, and a former boss have all put the moves on me in some way or another. It really doesn't help an indecisive type such as myself to be all "strong bidder" like this, when really I should just settle (down) and get married, already.
Sigh.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Daily Scope
Daily extended (by Astrology.com)
Wherever you go today, you will be able to effortlessly put your special mark on things. All you have to do is speak your mind in your usual clever way, and don't let yourself get intimidated by anyone. This is a great time for you, because you are full of unique ideas and a fierce charm that could bring a marble statue to life! The role of entertainer is becoming more and more comfortable to you, and you should explore ways to spend a little more time in the spotlight. People want more of you.
Well, this works. I spent the day in meetings at the paper, where I charmingly convinced people to change their workflow to dovetail with my larger goals for my projects and content development. And I was magnificent.
Weekly romance (by Astrology.com)
You're on a self-improvement kick this week. Monday and Tuesday you're focused on your body -- a new yoga class, a new cardio routine, something like that. Wednesday and Thursday you're focused on a relationship -- most likely a romantic one, although if you're not with anyone right now it could be a friend or ally. In any case, this relationship needs a fresh jolt. Do something brave together. Friday and Saturday have nothing to do with romance, although dinner in an unusual spot (a great date idea) figures on Sunday.
Again, pretty on-target. I started rock-climbing on Tuesday, and tonight I meet with the personal trainer. Focused on a relationship? Hah, That's pretty much been my week. Crying report: none yesterday, and I actually slept last night. Crying started again today, and also, unfortunately, the dead hope tried to resurrect itself. That's a bad idea; it's better off dead.
Fortunately, a new flirtation just presented himself; cute, sweet, smart, interesting, and taller than either the Lumberjack or the Cap'n. Unfortunately, I mentioned the Cap'n to a mutual acquaintance, and he immediately guessed his real identity. I'd love to know how he knew that (has he talked to the Cap'n? Had I tipped my cards some other way?), but it's not possible to simultaneously deny and delve in a situation like that.
Wherever you go today, you will be able to effortlessly put your special mark on things. All you have to do is speak your mind in your usual clever way, and don't let yourself get intimidated by anyone. This is a great time for you, because you are full of unique ideas and a fierce charm that could bring a marble statue to life! The role of entertainer is becoming more and more comfortable to you, and you should explore ways to spend a little more time in the spotlight. People want more of you.
Well, this works. I spent the day in meetings at the paper, where I charmingly convinced people to change their workflow to dovetail with my larger goals for my projects and content development. And I was magnificent.
Weekly romance (by Astrology.com)
You're on a self-improvement kick this week. Monday and Tuesday you're focused on your body -- a new yoga class, a new cardio routine, something like that. Wednesday and Thursday you're focused on a relationship -- most likely a romantic one, although if you're not with anyone right now it could be a friend or ally. In any case, this relationship needs a fresh jolt. Do something brave together. Friday and Saturday have nothing to do with romance, although dinner in an unusual spot (a great date idea) figures on Sunday.
Again, pretty on-target. I started rock-climbing on Tuesday, and tonight I meet with the personal trainer. Focused on a relationship? Hah, That's pretty much been my week. Crying report: none yesterday, and I actually slept last night. Crying started again today, and also, unfortunately, the dead hope tried to resurrect itself. That's a bad idea; it's better off dead.
Fortunately, a new flirtation just presented himself; cute, sweet, smart, interesting, and taller than either the Lumberjack or the Cap'n. Unfortunately, I mentioned the Cap'n to a mutual acquaintance, and he immediately guessed his real identity. I'd love to know how he knew that (has he talked to the Cap'n? Had I tipped my cards some other way?), but it's not possible to simultaneously deny and delve in a situation like that.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Sunday Times with the Lumberjack
Lumberjacks are everywhere, it's not just me.
I know, you want me to embed the video, not just link to it. But YouTube is giving me a hard time (maybe because I once worked for Viacom?).
I know, you want me to embed the video, not just link to it. But YouTube is giving me a hard time (maybe because I once worked for Viacom?).
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Random Thoughts
Sigh. Whenever I get out of the bogging groove, you all lose so many pearls of my wisdom that scatter to be forever lost in the neighbor's back yard, or wherever the grass happens to be. So some thoughts without artistry or wisdom:
1. Reading Dana Vachon's novel; it is lovely and I can't put it down.
2. Had another dream in the half-sleep moments in which I was in labor with the Lumberjack by my side. I've gotten him altogether out of my waking thoughts, but I'm still having babies with him in the REM stages. Not quite sure what to do about that.
3. Um, see what I mean? TOtally unfocused. Forgot it already...
1. Reading Dana Vachon's novel; it is lovely and I can't put it down.
2. Had another dream in the half-sleep moments in which I was in labor with the Lumberjack by my side. I've gotten him altogether out of my waking thoughts, but I'm still having babies with him in the REM stages. Not quite sure what to do about that.
3. Um, see what I mean? TOtally unfocused. Forgot it already...
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Globe and Maggie have a Love/Hate Relationship with Street Art
Why, just a few days ago, I pontificated to the Lumberjack on why I hate graffiti and prefer street art, though I claimed that Pixnit isn't much of an artist either, more of a wallpaper designer:
So that article we were talking about at PN last week...I really want to write for Bostonist. Maybe I should add that to the resolutions list I still have to post for you all...
I hadn't noticed until he was commenting on the follow-up in his blog, but it was written by the guy who sits next to me in the office, an A&E producer who also does some music reviews and writes for the music blog. I find his writing kind of impenetrable, though I do admire his ambition and enormous work ethic -- he's even writing for Slate now on occasion.
Personally, I find the whole debate kind of pretentious. I think graffiti is almost never art, and the outlaw nature that defines it rarely gives it any additional cred in my estimation. The exception that proves the rule, of course, being Banksy, but his stuff makes a real commentary or satire on public space, using the location as part of the message, not just as a canvas.
The best of this, the stuff on the Israeli/Palestine barrier wall, puts this chick's random wallpaper stencils to shame. And other of his stuff works just fine in a gallery, and doesn't need any additional cred from being illegal and subversive.
Eh, I just get so tired of people with no talent giving themselves a false importance, and graffiti "artists" are some of the worst offenders.
Friday, December 22, 2006
Gifted
Gave out gifts to the PubNight folks last night. It was fun. Von loved her dress, and Catmandoo was engrossed in the book on Banksy, who he had surprisingly never heard of. Y got nothing, which is actually an improvement over the coal he deserved for trying to sabotage the Holiday PN.
Lumberjack seemed pretty happy with the sweater, even though it wasn't the kind I really wanted to get him. Maybe I'll knit one for next year, as long as I finish the rest of the knitting queue first.
Lumberjack seemed pretty happy with the sweater, even though it wasn't the kind I really wanted to get him. Maybe I'll knit one for next year, as long as I finish the rest of the knitting queue first.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
What women want
My horoscope for today:
So what do I want? I have no idea. Yesterday I wanted a new job; today things are going more smoothly and my boss loves me. Monday A. joined me out for a birthday dinner, and it reminded me how much I still adore him and how he makes me laugh (despite his fixation with undergrads, but really, who am I to talk?); today I want to ask the Lumberjack to go furniture shopping with me. In North Carolina. Last week I was working on adding a shelf to my bedroom closet; this morning I seriously thought about switching to the downstairs bedroom.
Honestly, I never know what's best for me, and I think too much. I wish I could flop through life and let the cards fall as they will.
Ooh! In the spirit of post-election-day fabulousness (Democrats everywhere, no alcohol in the 7-11, yay gay marriage!, bye-bye Rumsfeld), and recalling the famous "Pick Maggie's Husband" vote of 1999 (I should really dredge up that website and archive it somewhere), let's have a ballot referendum. (yes, Auntie Amanda told me to stop dating by committee, and she had a point, but this is fun!)
Upstairs advantages -- upstairs, away from the rest of the house; large closet; bed's already up there.
Up disadvantages -- hot and stuffy; shares a wall with the upstairs apartment, I can hear them, and they can hear me (or they will if ever I get some play); no space for a double-wide dresser.
Downstairs advantages -- larger; closer to the bathroom; good feng shui; fits a wide dresser; upstairs kids won't hear me having sex over their Cheerios; I could use my old fabulous box spring.
Down disadvantages -- small closet; close to the rest of the house; I already bought a new split box spring for the upstairs bedroom.
Exposure and power versus intellectual cred and a sense of superiority. Also, do I want to be famous?
Would you want to hear my voice over your radio every afternoon, or maybe once a weekend like Ira Glass?
He is a serial monogamist, after all, you know he'll be looking for a new girlfriend five minutes after he breaks up with this one.
Okay, go! Vote early and often!
Now is a great time for you to get what you want out of life, whether it's a new sweetie, a better gig or just some peace and quiet for the day. You're filled with raw power and can use it however you want.
So what do I want? I have no idea. Yesterday I wanted a new job; today things are going more smoothly and my boss loves me. Monday A. joined me out for a birthday dinner, and it reminded me how much I still adore him and how he makes me laugh (despite his fixation with undergrads, but really, who am I to talk?); today I want to ask the Lumberjack to go furniture shopping with me. In North Carolina. Last week I was working on adding a shelf to my bedroom closet; this morning I seriously thought about switching to the downstairs bedroom.
Honestly, I never know what's best for me, and I think too much. I wish I could flop through life and let the cards fall as they will.
Ooh! In the spirit of post-election-day fabulousness (Democrats everywhere, no alcohol in the 7-11, yay gay marriage!, bye-bye Rumsfeld), and recalling the famous "Pick Maggie's Husband" vote of 1999 (I should really dredge up that website and archive it somewhere), let's have a ballot referendum. (yes, Auntie Amanda told me to stop dating by committee, and she had a point, but this is fun!)
Q1: Should I stay in the upstairs bedroom, or move downstairs?
Upstairs advantages -- upstairs, away from the rest of the house; large closet; bed's already up there.
Up disadvantages -- hot and stuffy; shares a wall with the upstairs apartment, I can hear them, and they can hear me (or they will if ever I get some play); no space for a double-wide dresser.
Downstairs advantages -- larger; closer to the bathroom; good feng shui; fits a wide dresser; upstairs kids won't hear me having sex over their Cheerios; I could use my old fabulous box spring.
Down disadvantages -- small closet; close to the rest of the house; I already bought a new split box spring for the upstairs bedroom.
Q2: Should I stick with it at the Paper of Record, or try to move to NPR?
Exposure and power versus intellectual cred and a sense of superiority. Also, do I want to be famous?
Q3: Wherever I stay, should I be trying for a byline or an on-air feature?
Would you want to hear my voice over your radio every afternoon, or maybe once a weekend like Ira Glass?
Q4: Does A get another chance, the next time he's free?
He is a serial monogamist, after all, you know he'll be looking for a new girlfriend five minutes after he breaks up with this one.
Okay, go! Vote early and often!
Thursday, September 21, 2006
back once again in crisis mode
okay here's what sucks..
I said I wanted to leave tonight
we decided I would wait
unless he took a turn for the worse
he took a turn for the worse
I got a call at 3:30 this morning
I slept for a few hours, and now I'm looking for flights
there is nothing
there were flights two days ago
I'm also freaked,
because exactly what I said might happen, has happened
I need to leave
I need to go to work
I need to take care of Siena
I need to sleep
this is bad bad bad
also, surprise surprise, no word from the lumberjack
lovely call with Ave last night, though
and so much for my date tonight with MJ, I guess, hmm?
I will call you later in the day, when I know more.
I said I wanted to leave tonight
we decided I would wait
unless he took a turn for the worse
he took a turn for the worse
I got a call at 3:30 this morning
I slept for a few hours, and now I'm looking for flights
there is nothing
there were flights two days ago
I'm also freaked,
because exactly what I said might happen, has happened
I need to leave
I need to go to work
I need to take care of Siena
I need to sleep
this is bad bad bad
also, surprise surprise, no word from the lumberjack
lovely call with Ave last night, though
and so much for my date tonight with MJ, I guess, hmm?
I will call you later in the day, when I know more.
Monday, September 18, 2006
Bored bored bored
Geez my life has gotten so boring up here in responsible adult-land. The deal with the lumberjack fizzled out -- well, maybe not, but I'm refusing to continue to put in effort just for the sake of drama. (he's doing this stupid possiveness without commitment thing that I find nauseating.) And when have I ever opted AGAINST drama? I met this other guy, total yawn, works in pharmeceuticals! I am a domestic goddess, which is inherently too stable to be exciting. And I'm paying off my credit cards, always a sign of infinite boredom.
Thankfully, no one is sick or dying, unlike last year at this time. Life is good, and safe, and stable, and prosperous -- but no drama, no circus sex, no 17-hour benders or last-minute trips to foreign lands. I can't become a groupie for a punk band, because there are no good punk bands left, and they're closing CBGBs. Last time I was there was on said 17-hour bender, ordering water and underwear, right before I passed out in Nomda's hotel room. (Funny, the first time I was there, I showed my lace underwear to Mindless Self Indulgence, and to Nicfit and the biker, who were with me the last time too. What is it about them, me, CBs and underwear?)
Also, no one is racy up here, I can't even *imagine* having sex on a fire escape (also, I don't have a fire escape...) No one even swears. It is so... Bostonian. Don't get me wrong, I am very very happy, so glad I moved back, hardly miss New York at all -- except for the adventure (and my friends, of course, but we've been doing pretty good with the visits so far). I want circus sex, I want all-night raging benders, I want wild parties!
I don't want to grow up.
No, that's not true. I want to grow up, but I want a partner in crime that will let me be devious and bad on the side. If not on a fire escape or in a taxi cab, then at least on the kitchen floor.
Thankfully, no one is sick or dying, unlike last year at this time. Life is good, and safe, and stable, and prosperous -- but no drama, no circus sex, no 17-hour benders or last-minute trips to foreign lands. I can't become a groupie for a punk band, because there are no good punk bands left, and they're closing CBGBs. Last time I was there was on said 17-hour bender, ordering water and underwear, right before I passed out in Nomda's hotel room. (Funny, the first time I was there, I showed my lace underwear to Mindless Self Indulgence, and to Nicfit and the biker, who were with me the last time too. What is it about them, me, CBs and underwear?)
Also, no one is racy up here, I can't even *imagine* having sex on a fire escape (also, I don't have a fire escape...) No one even swears. It is so... Bostonian. Don't get me wrong, I am very very happy, so glad I moved back, hardly miss New York at all -- except for the adventure (and my friends, of course, but we've been doing pretty good with the visits so far). I want circus sex, I want all-night raging benders, I want wild parties!
I don't want to grow up.
No, that's not true. I want to grow up, but I want a partner in crime that will let me be devious and bad on the side. If not on a fire escape or in a taxi cab, then at least on the kitchen floor.
Monday, September 11, 2006
me and my lumberjack...
... are apparently way more compatible than I would have ever expected -- if you enjoy drama and explosives in your compatibility. And as just the other day I was complaining that I fear getting bored, maybe there is still hope for us yet.
Or maybe not. As I am clinically insane.
Or maybe not. As I am clinically insane.
How the other half lives....
Having been the object of much status curiosity and envy this weekend (the Lumberjack guessed within $3K what my salary is, and told everyone, and was also speculating on my mortgage,and in general thinking way too much about my money), I now find this article even more interesting, and well-timed.
In fact, I was just saying last night that the only reason Gee was getting worked up about my house and mortgage is because he can't stand anyone who has more, or even different, from him. To be fair, he is clinical, so not a good representative sample. But he owns a lovely home; what the hell does he care what I spent on mine?
In fact, I was just saying last night that the only reason Gee was getting worked up about my house and mortgage is because he can't stand anyone who has more, or even different, from him. To be fair, he is clinical, so not a good representative sample. But he owns a lovely home; what the hell does he care what I spent on mine?
Monday, September 04, 2006
Party Girl
The housewarming party was amazing, in case you were wondering. Fabulous friends, amazing neighbors, cute babies, still so sleepy. Dear friends and relatives came from far and near to help me unpack, to stock up for the party, to raise a glass, and to turn my house of stress into a home at last. I love everyone, and I have loads of thank-you notes to write, but for now, just let me say thanks and I love you to all you darlings.
And no, I'm still not sleeping there. I'll move in eventually.
And the Lumberjack gave me an old Kodak Brownie camera of his own, because I'd said his collection was cool. But still he didn't kiss me, and he hasn't mentioned a word about the e-mail from Thursday.
And as soon as I move in for real, I'm ready to have a baby. The neighbors offered to help me take care of it (told you I have amazing neighbors!). So first I finish the bathroom, then I finish unpacking and move in, and then I'm shopping for sperm. Done and done, tired of waiting around.
And no, I'm still not sleeping there. I'll move in eventually.
And the Lumberjack gave me an old Kodak Brownie camera of his own, because I'd said his collection was cool. But still he didn't kiss me, and he hasn't mentioned a word about the e-mail from Thursday.
And as soon as I move in for real, I'm ready to have a baby. The neighbors offered to help me take care of it (told you I have amazing neighbors!). So first I finish the bathroom, then I finish unpacking and move in, and then I'm shopping for sperm. Done and done, tired of waiting around.
Friday, September 01, 2006
dream a little dream of me
I had the strangest dream last night. Bear with me for a moment.
You and I and the rest of the usual suspects were in this huge, loft-like house, with 12-to-15-foot ceilings, and giant appliances and cavernous rooms and floor-to-ceiling modern-looking cabinets everywhere. The fridge alone was like 7 or 8 feet high, and there were maybe three separate kitchens in the house. It was like a showroom, except I lived there. Of course, I was trying to get unpacked and settled in, and everyone there was helping or keeping me company or getting ready for the party. Surpringly, the whole thing seemed sane, not too frantic.
Von was in the kitchen with Gee, and you and I were talking on the couch, when you took me by the shoulders and kissed me. Soon after, you got your coat and went out to run some errand for the housewarming party.
Surprise surprise, my subconscious thinks the house is huge and overwhelming. (To be fair, some really bad things have happened, like the bleeding delivery man, the electrical mess-up, the sewage overflow and the mis-installed fridge.) And I've been frantic and cranky and sensitive, and I want people to help me and support me with everything. But maybe I've been more difficult with you because I'd like to date you and you don't seem to feel the same, and so I was disappointed. And so I act badly sometimes, and so I'm sorry.
I don't want this to be bad for our friendship, so I'll sack up. But the house will continue to be crazy-inducing for a while, so I can't promise to totally chill.
Get home safe, see you soon.
...And that, my friends, is what I sent to the Lumberjack last night to get this stalled vehicle moving. Whether it's the death knell that brings the tow truck, or the jump start that starts us purring down the road, I don't care. I just want to move on.
And yes, I really did have that dream. Maybe I'll sell the house?
You and I and the rest of the usual suspects were in this huge, loft-like house, with 12-to-15-foot ceilings, and giant appliances and cavernous rooms and floor-to-ceiling modern-looking cabinets everywhere. The fridge alone was like 7 or 8 feet high, and there were maybe three separate kitchens in the house. It was like a showroom, except I lived there. Of course, I was trying to get unpacked and settled in, and everyone there was helping or keeping me company or getting ready for the party. Surpringly, the whole thing seemed sane, not too frantic.
Von was in the kitchen with Gee, and you and I were talking on the couch, when you took me by the shoulders and kissed me. Soon after, you got your coat and went out to run some errand for the housewarming party.
Surprise surprise, my subconscious thinks the house is huge and overwhelming. (To be fair, some really bad things have happened, like the bleeding delivery man, the electrical mess-up, the sewage overflow and the mis-installed fridge.) And I've been frantic and cranky and sensitive, and I want people to help me and support me with everything. But maybe I've been more difficult with you because I'd like to date you and you don't seem to feel the same, and so I was disappointed. And so I act badly sometimes, and so I'm sorry.
I don't want this to be bad for our friendship, so I'll sack up. But the house will continue to be crazy-inducing for a while, so I can't promise to totally chill.
Get home safe, see you soon.
...And that, my friends, is what I sent to the Lumberjack last night to get this stalled vehicle moving. Whether it's the death knell that brings the tow truck, or the jump start that starts us purring down the road, I don't care. I just want to move on.
And yes, I really did have that dream. Maybe I'll sell the house?
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Much ado in the firmament
Pluto has finally been downgraded, and we're left with only eight planets (none of them Xena).
I wonder what this will do to the highly scientific field of astrology? Because check out today's encouraging horoscopes for the Lumberjack and me:
Mine: Look forward to a good day -- finally! It might feel that you've been down for quite a while, but that won't matter at all when the right person smiles at you in the right way and al that stress dissolves.
His: You need a combination of head and heart when it comes to dating. You can't always go on analytical judgments -- you need to soften that with some kindness and understanding. Give a little.
I wonder what this will do to the highly scientific field of astrology? Because check out today's encouraging horoscopes for the Lumberjack and me:
Mine: Look forward to a good day -- finally! It might feel that you've been down for quite a while, but that won't matter at all when the right person smiles at you in the right way and al that stress dissolves.
His: You need a combination of head and heart when it comes to dating. You can't always go on analytical judgments -- you need to soften that with some kindness and understanding. Give a little.
Sunday, August 13, 2006
bookish love
Dammit, every time I read a book with any kind of relationship plot, the characters meet cute on campus, and never leave each other's side. In the book I finished this morning, there were two couples who did so, and to add salt, they both met on the campus where I went to grad school.
My ex-fiance and I met cute, but not on campus, and he was not the guy for me. I have the odd but good fortune that he married an acquaintance, so I get to see what he is like as a middle-aged husband and father. And every time I do see him, I am glad we didn't marry. He is a sweet, great guy, and they are fabulous and happy together, and I would have run screaming long ago if that were me.
I met George, the oft-alluded-to one that got away, on campus when we were undergrads, but the meet-cute wasn't until grad school, on that very same literary campus as this morning's book. Every day I continue to think I made a mistake in letting him go, that I was blind not to see that he loved me and was just what I was looking for. Being back in Boston and seeing our old haunts just gives me constant reminders. And since I haven't seen him in almost ten years, I have no evidence to contradict my memory's belief that he is perfect.
So instead, I wrote the Lumberjack and told him that I missed him and to hurry home. And here I was supposed to be ignoring him. At least I didn't call. E-mail is so unromantic...
My ex-fiance and I met cute, but not on campus, and he was not the guy for me. I have the odd but good fortune that he married an acquaintance, so I get to see what he is like as a middle-aged husband and father. And every time I do see him, I am glad we didn't marry. He is a sweet, great guy, and they are fabulous and happy together, and I would have run screaming long ago if that were me.
I met George, the oft-alluded-to one that got away, on campus when we were undergrads, but the meet-cute wasn't until grad school, on that very same literary campus as this morning's book. Every day I continue to think I made a mistake in letting him go, that I was blind not to see that he loved me and was just what I was looking for. Being back in Boston and seeing our old haunts just gives me constant reminders. And since I haven't seen him in almost ten years, I have no evidence to contradict my memory's belief that he is perfect.
So instead, I wrote the Lumberjack and told him that I missed him and to hurry home. And here I was supposed to be ignoring him. At least I didn't call. E-mail is so unromantic...
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