Ruby's Cubic View

Ruby's Pirate Booty...

2010-05-02T15:08:00.002-04:00

...is seriously outgrowing her pants. The cupcakes I attempted this weekend aren't helping matters. Good thing I'm taking them all to work tomorrow!

I don't know what got into me, but I felt the need to do some serious baking this weekend. I was inspired by the "Ming Makes Cupcakes" website. Instead of the raspberry sour cream, I substituted Greek yogurt and blackberries. I attempted the marscapone cream frosting (I churned butter instead), so made a honey cream glaze (followed the browned butter maple icing recipe, substituting honey). I also baked the Guinness Chocolate cupcakes (those taste phenomenal!!) and made the cream cheese fluffy frosting and used a tablespoon of leftover Guinness instead of the vanilla.

I'm disappointed with the consistency...the cupcakes barely hold when I peel away the liners. I'll need to experiment with higher temps/longer bake times or maybe something more to bind the ingredients? One lesson learned is blackberries are too big for small cupcakes...really need to stick with the smaller berries like blueberries or raspberries. Another lesson is to try other frosting recipes. While taste is alright, I'm not getting the consistency I want. Either too flat/sticky or too hard.

There is a fine line for beating the marscapone cream into soft peaks before it turns into butter. Literally. Very sweet tasting, but that's what it is. Probably tasty for a crusty roll or bagel, but not for a cupcake. Definitely want to try this again, but I'm looking for a very fluffy/light result.

The browned butter honey glaze...tasty, but too flat. I want a honey frosting. Something that has more air in it. Need to experiment more.

The cream cheese fluffy frosting was not the expected fluffy. I wanted something airy like a buttercream. Something I could frost with a knife and make a nice cone shaped peak. This was fluffier than the glaze, but it had the viscosity of plasma. Would make a better filling than topping. But that taste--this was exquisite. Adding the little bit of Guinness was a good move. Will experiment with that again.

So I expected the finished cupcake to be great, but it basically fell apart after the first bite! The cake doesn't hold up. I need to experiment on this, too. But it tastes really good, so at least that's a start!!

Tastes like a ho-ho

2010-04-03T22:59:00.003-04:00

Had a great night out with friends tonight. I went to Tastings for wine and tapas. Rachael baked three different kinds of cupcakes. Each were divine...the "tall hats" are these dark chocolate/coffee cupcakes with a marshmallow meringue covered in chocolate glaze. Kinda like eating a grown up Ho-Ho. Then there was the vanilla bean with coconut frosting. And the red velvet with cream cheese icing. Fabulous doesn't even begin to cover it. Let's see, three cupcakes, a few bottles of wine, cheese, olives, oh, and a lap dance. Made for a very memorable birthday party.

Did I mention tonight is the Final Four? After the Butler/Michigan game (go Bulldogs!), these State fans showed up to drown their sorrows (drinking martinis at a wine bar, but who am I to judge?). I was serenaded, lei'd, and had my own special lap dance. I'm hoarse from laughing so hard.

As if the night could get better, Bethany discovered a stack of screen printed t-shirts behind our chairs right before we left. Imagine, we are at an upscale wine establishment connected with the Conrad and Bethany finds a pile of shirts someone was selling for the game. This might have something to do with the guy who stored his suitcase behind our chairs for part of the evening. He kept opening it up to take out clothes and then he'd leave for a while, only to return empty handed and do it all over again. All I know is that I came home tonight with a silicone tagine (thanks Jamie!) and a Butler t-shirt. I loved that Bethany thought it was a gigantic breast pump.

I took a cab into downtown tonight to avoid the madness. After the trouble I had getting a cab to take me home, I now remember why I hate cabbing it in this city. First was the cab that refused to pick me up, instead waiting for some "very important people" inside the Conrad. Second was the cab that wasn't metered and tried to charge me $50 to take me home...interesting given that it was less than nine bucks to get downtown in the first place. Last was the cab that misunderstood where I wanted to go and wasn't going to take me home. At the point that I thought he was going to leave me stranded on the outskirts of downtown, I had to bribe him with my extra cupcake to take me home.

And so it is with a sated and happy heart I bid you goodnight. I'm about to crash from all of the sugar and wine I've had this evening. 35 isn't looking so bad after all.

Boogie Fever

2010-04-02T20:54:00.008-04:00

I went rollerskating today. Like quad wheel, old school, skate club rollerskating. For something that seemed simple and uncomplicated in my mind, it really put me through a physical ringer in the present. Seriously, I broke into a sweat before even making it to the rink (could barely stay upright), and I was drenched in sweat after my first lap (helplessly scrambling along the railings and the wall all the way around it). I was breathing heavier and worked up more sweat after 5 minutes on skates that I do after 45 minutes on a spin bike.

I was a vision of flailing arms and legs and wheels. Quite the sober reality check to my fantasy roller derby alter ego, The Naughty Professor (or Wheelie Insane...I'm still working on it).

Let's take Keira to the skating rink and teach her how to skate, she said. What a fabulous idea, I said. We can start practicing for when we try out for The Naptown Roller Girls, I said. We just need to get into shape and then we'll be set for Touretta Lynn's Boot Camp! We are stupid.

I am so bent on getting a handle on my health, I tend to approach each idea without fear (full acceptance of humiliation but naively so) and then find myself stunned when the activity is much harder/less fun/more dangerous that I remembered it to be. Will I ever learn?? I started and stopped kettlebells last year. I was just getting into a groove when my carpel tunnel treatment went array. I've picked it back up because I am not doing enough for my weight loss (failing horribly with the diet). So there's 40 minutes on the elliptical in the mornings, spinning class on Monday nights, kettlebells three times a week, and I've confidently talked Dano into taking tennis lessons with me this summer. I've already started to talk up the roller derby fantasy with her...though today was a clear indication that we have much work to do before showing up at the tryouts. I do have some dignity that remains.

If I could just get the dieting under control then maybe I would see results??!?! Kettlebells nearly did me in last weekend, but I survived. No pain after Wednesday's routine, and we're doing it again tomorrow morning. [Sidebar: this is so cute...Dano bought a smaller exercise ball and a set of 2 pound dumbbells for Keira who wants to work out with us...can't wait to see her try to pump some iron. Go Keira!] I hope I didn't overdo the rollerskating today. I'd like the use of my legs tomorrow.

Torture

2010-03-29T21:40:00.003-04:00

The insides of my thighs are burning. I fear I overdid the kettlebell workout Saturday. Seriously. When I first start to walk after sitting at my desk, my stomach clutches and I feel faintly ill. I'm going to do this 3 times a week now? Wow...I can't believe I talked Dano into doing this with me! I struggled with even sitting down to pee. That's rough. I felt like I needed a walker or something to hold me upright today!

And then spin class tonight. Not as bad as I expected. I'm definitely getting used to that bike, but I could go for a soak in a hot tub right now!

One day down, three left this week before our 4 day holiday weekend. CANNOT wait. Need this break from work. Looking forward to rollerskating with Dano and Keira Friday and then wine-tasting at Tastings on Saturday. Counting down the days...

Never Be Ready

2010-03-28T21:08:00.002-04:00

Nothing like a long intermission to make it hard to get back into the show...

Rather than fill in the missing time, I'll just start where I'm at now. It's my birthday next Saturday and I'm still not any less anxious about making it an occasion with other people. And I'm still unhappy with my weight, my job, and my life. However, I'm making more of an effort to avoid negativity and just do something.

I thought about writing on the topic of "crushes" tonight...I've noticed a trend that each year I have a new musical and acting crush. This year it's David Gray (although this doesn't mean Mat Kearney is gone, just that I have two crushes). Christian Bale is still a favorite acting crush, though he shares the space with Leo and Joaquin. They each cultivate these fascinating characters...so different each time. Yet then there are actors like Timothy Olyphant and Jonathan Rhys Meyers who have this tendency to portray that there are parts of their own personalities shining through their characters. Who knows if that's true or not, but I do pick up a subtle consistency in each character.

I went to the David Gray show last week. Loved every minute of it. I really connect with artists who use their music to tell stories, I think. Maybe that's my point? The storytelling compels me...

It's my birthday Saturday. Not sure how I feel about that yet.

Cuban Culinary Success for Ruby!!!!

2008-06-15T11:48:00.003-04:00

Cuba Night was a culinary success by almost all accounts! And I'm exhausted, so this should speak for itself...

My first ever attempt to roast a huge cut of meat (and I actually had two, so that added another level of complexity with timing) turned out great. The Mojo distributed equally, and the taste was great. My timing was perfect, too.

I ended up covering the salad too, and that turned out yummy.

The lime sorbet was a hit. We added a shot of tequila and a sprinkle of coarse salt when serving (as the sorbet author suggested) and it really did make all the difference. EVERYONE partook in that, even those who normally don't drink.

Mango sorbet okay. Banana yogurt didn't turn out because I had my ice cream maker on overdrive and it wasn't cold enough. Alas, it wasn't needed.

The jicama sticks, chicken skewers, and sauces were very tasty, too. I'm having left over jicama sticks with an abbreviated version of guac (what to do with 7 left over RIPE avocados??) today.

The yuca gratin turned out better than any of us expected. I mean, you can't go wrong with anything baked in cream, butter, salt, and garlic, but the yuca added an alternate taste to potatoes and I think this made the difference, too. The cold bean/corn side dish was great, given the extreme heat we have.

The one true disappointment (recognized by us all) was the missing Cuban Opera Cake. A new member signed up to bring this, and then "suddenly" fell ill. This member sent me a message claiming that the cake was done and he wanted to find a way to share it with us, but alas never responded to several messages from members offering to come pick it up. I suspect there was never a cake in the first place. The biggest regret is that Rachael (the group organizer) and I had several off-line discussions about this cake and she was preparing to make it but it was snagged by this new member right away. Clearly this new member does not realize that beyond the social connection, this group is all about EATING, so not having a dish is worse than a dish that doesn't turn out as expected.

I'm still wiped out, so recovering by the pool is my only objective today. I just swung by and it wasn't open yet...look, I'm slathered to my hairline in sunblock and I went through the agony of inserting my contacts today. They'd better open soon...

The Gourmet Hostess (round 2)

2008-06-07T10:04:00.005-04:00

I agreed to host the June event because I'm not sure how many more I'll be able to attend. If the job change comes through, then this could be the last event for me. I planned a Cuban theme this time. My menu:

Cocktails & Tapas:
Papa Hemmingway & Mojitos
Achiote Chicken Skewers with Guava Sauce
Spicy Jicama Sticks with Cilantro Lime Aïoli

Lime Sorbet Prelude

Avocado & Mango Salad

Main Course:
Lechón Asado
Yuca Gratin
Cuban Beans with Jicama & Corn

Mango Sorbet Interlude

Dessert:
Cuban Opera Cake
Honey Banana Frozen Yogurt
Cuban Coffee

I pulled the Papa Hemmingway recipe from the Three Guys From Miami Cook Cuban book, and I found the mojito recipe when I was reading about the proper way to muddle a cocktail. What a fabulous blog!!

Most of the recipes are courtesy of Epicurious, though the Mojo pork roast is from the Three Guys cookbook, the sorbets are from The Perfect Scoop, and the jicama sticks, aïoli, and honey banana frozen yogurt are a culmination of my own/modifications to recipes in my collection.

The big event is next Saturday night, so I'm working on my to-do list this week to help me pull this off!! Lots to do!

I'm on the hunt for inexpensive domino sets. I'm wondering if the local dollar stores will carry these? I'm also on the hunt for an ice crusher and an owner of a lime tree. Between the sorbet, cocktails, and Mojo, I need approximately 40 limes. When I lived in Cali, everyone had lemon and lime trees on their property...looks like it's a trip to Sam's Club for me.

Anyone who enjoys rich, gourmet food and a desire to bake should check out the Cuban Opera Cake on Epicurious. Seriously. I can't want to try this. It makes me drool just anticipating it next Saturday!!!

Culinary Experimentism

2008-06-01T09:07:00.002-04:00

There is a reason the ice cream books say you should use premium ingredients, and it's not just about taste. It's about texture.

I attempted a lemon sorbet with Splenda instead. Taste--wonderful. Quite tart (my preference) and rich flavor. Texture--needs improvement.

The freezing process started off normal enough. It was starting to slush within the first 5 minutes, so I distracted myself for the remaining time by reading. When I checked on it after 25 minutes, it was, um, interesting.

This fluffy ice was bursting through the lid. The frozen ice was so soft and airy, that it wouldn't hold a shape with a spoon. I packed it into a container, but when we were ready to serve, it was hard like a granita that hadn't been forked. Softening a bit lent to spoonable, but it didn't hold the shape of the ice cream scoop, so it was like a bowl of frozen lemon ice slush.

So, taste was good, but texture is off. Clearly the chemistry of sugar does something to make it bindable during freezing.

I'm going to attempt again with the Splenda baking mix (half sugar, half Splenda) and see if there is an improvement. I'm also going to attempt with some added alcohol (probably vodka). I wonder if that would alter the viscosity of the sorbet?

Honestly, I will continue to make sorbets with the real sugar deal. There is no substitute for the real thing worth sacrificing when making for an event. However, I have friends who are South Beaching, plus I could stand to lose a few myself, so when I'm making it on my own, I'd like to have a less sugary blend.

Race Day festivities

2008-05-25T11:50:00.003-04:00

No ticket to the race this year, but I'm going to a cookout tonight, and I decided to try out some of my gourmet club recipes to see how they do...see what kind of modifications I may need to make for next time.

I really want to try this triple layer lemon pistachio cake, but the hosts this evening aren't fans of lemon cake, so I'll wait for another event. The picture in Epicurious is amazing.

So, I decided to try the Mango Banana Cake instead. My modifications: 1 9 inch square pan, 1 pan regular size cupcakes (6) and 2 mini muffin pans (total of 12). Also, I did not attempt the mango curd given some of the reviews. Plus I'm not sure if the cookout guests are curd fans. So instead, I made a mango glaze (1/3 cup mango purée with 2 1/2 cups powdered sugar) and a dark chocolate frosting. But I did follow the cake recipe exactly. Probably used every single mixing bowl, dish, utensil I own trying to keep dry separate from wet, and adding dry and mashed bananas in 3 waves.

I iced 6 of the mini cupcakes with the mango glaze and the remaining six with the dark chocolate glaze (before whipping into a frosting). Then I iced the regular cupcakes with the mango glaze, and I cut the square cake into 2 triangles, placed a layer of glaze between and on top, and made a double-layer, right-angle isosceles masterpiece. Then I whipped the chocolate frosting. It's currently chilling in the fridge right now. It's my plan to ice to cupcakes and the cake with the frosting before I take it to the party.

And I made a fantastic honey banana frozen yogurt and mango sorbet.

Mango Purée
2 ripe mangoes
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup water
Juice of 1/2 lime
1-2 shots Triple Sec

Sorbet: Simmer sugar and water until dissolved and put to the side. Purée mangoes with lime juice and Triple Sec. Set aside 1/3 cup of the purée (for glaze). Add the simple syrup, then chill mixture. When ready, make according to ice cream maker instructions.

Glaze: Make glaze with mango purée and powdered sugar. Whisk until dissolved. Set aside.

Chocolate Frosting
3/4 cup heavy whipping cream
4 ounces fine dark chocolate, chopped/broken into pieces ( used Ghirardelli semi-sweet)
1 Tbsp. honey

Bring cream to a boil. Pour over chocolate and honey. Let sit for 5 minutes. Gently whisk together. Set aside and allow icing to come to room temperature.

Drizzle for icing/glaze. Beat with electric mixture for fluffy frosting. I think it could use some more sweetness, so I suggest adding powdered sugar to taste during the mixing process. I chose to leave mine alone so it is in contrast to the sweetness of the mango glaze.

Honey Banana Frozen Yogurt
[Please note: This is my own creation...I will likely continue to modify slightly until I find the right flavor.]

3 very ripe bananas, peeled
Juice from 1/2 lime
1 1/4 cups Greek style yogurt, 2 %
1/2 cup sugar
1/4 cup honey

Purée all ingredients in a blender. May need to stir or work with a spatula to get all ingredients mixed. Freeze in the ice cream maker immediately to preserve the flavor and color of the bananas.

Amazing consistency, texture, and taste. Perhaps a tad too much honey, but I only had 3 bananas. Maybe add another banana to balance it out next time.

Little Man weighs in...

2008-05-15T19:37:00.005-04:00

Ats & Crafts day with my main man, G. We're making a homemade jewelry box for his mommy's birthday next week, and I also told him we would make our own homemade ice cream. I gave him 4 flavors to choose from, and of course he wants two. Top of his list: blueberry frozen yogurt and orange popsicle ice cream. He chose these over other offerings, such as green pea ice cream...I thought he'd find the exotic amusing (especially since he likes all things green), but he said "Yuck!"

We'll likely half or drop the full quantities somewhat, as he doesn't need 2 quarts of full fat ice cream and neither do I. I'm also omitting the small amounts of liquor for his benefit. I certainly don't want to lose my Good Aunt privileges.

UPDATE: the jewelry box is precious. Bright jade green covered in sparkly beads. He did most of it, I only assisted with the glue and paint touch ups. So, so precious.

The blueberry yogurt turned out fantastic. I accidentally bought fat free plain yogurt, and you couldn't tell. Yumm-O! The orange popcicle...not so much. I think the oranges were too bland. Perhaps I should replace half with pure OJ concentrate instead next time? Not sure.

Little Man wants to try the green pea next time...so adventurous.

What to do with ripe, juicy pears?

2008-04-27T12:29:00.002-04:00

Make sorbet, of course.

I mostly followed the recipe. My own variation included leaving the skins on during the simmer and purée steps, but then used a fine mesh strainer to sift the gritty bits to create a very smooth mixture.

Although the pear flavor is more subtle than the previous flavors I've made, this is by far the best consistency and texture I've ever produced. I think it's a combination of factors. Last time, I had to soak the freezer bowl because the strawberry batch stained it. This meant letting it dry (and unfreeze). Before sticking back in the freezer, I wrapped it in a linen towel and then in the plastic bag. After completing the freeze, the entire mixture simply lifted from the bowl clean. I think this is key--bone dry before freezing, smooth and well-chilled mixture, and smaller batch size.

Ingredients:

4 ripe pears, peeled and cored
1 1/4 cups water
2/3 cup sugar
1 tsp. freshly squeezed lemon juice

[Variation: I just realized I forgot the lemon juice, and as stated above, I didn't peel the fruit.]

Preparation:

Cut the pears into chunks. Place in a large, nonreactive saucepan along with 1/2 cup of the water. Cover and cook over medium heat for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the pears are cooked through and tender when poked with a knife.

Transfer the cooked pears to a blender (at this point, you should have about 2 cups of fruit) and add the remaining 3/4 cup water, sugar, and lemon juice. Purée until smooth.

[Modification: I chose to simmer the fruit until tender and make a simple syrup from the remaining water and sugar in a separate pan on the stove. Then I let both mixtures cool for a while before pouring into the blender. I also kept the blender lid vented because of the heat build-up. So I started by puréeing the fruit and then I poured in the syrup.]

Chill the mixture thoroughly, then freeze according to ice cream maker directions.

Spicy Strawberry Sorbet

2008-04-14T19:38:00.002-04:00

I made a mango sorbet a few weeks ago. Mom brought a few very ripe mangoes from home, and I used a sorbet recipe from my book. I'm a mango-on-the-side kind of fan...I normally cannot tolerate it on its own. But let me just say this was some great sorbet. We picked up sweet sticky rice from the Thai place, and this made for a very tasty treat.

I'm going to try it again for my gourmet event next month. In the meantime, I want to rave about my new favorite sorbet: spicy strawberry.

I've made it twice now, each a bit different. I think I like the consistency of the first batch better, but I like the flavor of the second batch more. The difference (I believe) is 2-fold: (1) strain the strawberry purée, and (2) beat the snot out of the peppercorns so more of them crack.

Ingredients:

2/3 cup sugar
2/3 cup water
3 tablespoons black peppercorns, crushed coarse
1 quart strawberries (preferably local), hulled
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar, or to taste

Preparation:

In a saucepan combine sugar and water and bring to a boil, stirring until sugar is dissolved. Stir in peppercorns and remove pan from heat. Cover pan and let syrup stand 1 hour.

Strain syrup through a fine sieve into a food processor or blender and discard peppercorns. Purée hulled strawberries with syrup until very smooth and force though sieve into a bowl, discarding seeds and other solids. Stir in vinegar and chill, covered, until cold. Freeze mixture in an ice-cream maker.

Last Sunday, I made this for the gourmet club. I beat the peppercorns with a rolling pin and a hammer, and not many of them really cracked--therefore, it was a very light spice in the sorbet. Very nice, but I would have preferred a bit more kick.

Today, I made this for me. I didn't want to take the time to strain the strawberry mash, and now I think it is well worth the step--otherwise, it's still has a lot of air bubbles, which will make for a cotton candy-like texture around day 2. Also, I broke my omlette pan pounding the peppercorns, but it was worth it. More of the oils were released in the syrup-making process.

More to post later...I've taken pictures of my latest home make-over room (the office!). When they're developed, I'll post some here.

Shamrock Run/Walk

2008-03-17T06:04:00.002-04:00

Since my training has derailed fast, I'm trying to keep active/motivated with other races to fill in the weekends. Enter the 4 mile Shamrock Run/Walk on Saturday. Good news: I *think* I improved my average time. Bad news: I need to do something about the continued blisters I get on the bottom of my feet. This has nothing to do with training or the lack thereof--it's a sock/insert/shoe thing that I haven't mastered yet.

In other news, I will be moving to DC this summer. This alone deserves it's own post, but I have neither the time nor the energy to really write about it right now. Bottom line: I pushed the issue at work and have made my desires clear to multiple folks in management. It was a risk, but one that I needed to take.

As if I don't have enough to juggle, I finally found a breakthrough with therapy. I've struggled for MONTHS to get into an office on a consistent basis. It's been a corporate insurance nightmare. I finally got onto a schedule and then my therapist left last month. However, his counterpart runs a 6 week cognitive behavior group for anxiety management, and he helped me get a spot. I start Wednesday. Lots of uncertainty, but I'm going into it with an open mind and hope that I'll emerge with some coping strategies.

I was going to make my Guiness-Chocolate ice cream and attempt a Bailey's and coffee creation, but I ran out of time this weekend. Alas...there will be more times to create for the work folks later.

10K

2008-03-01T10:26:00.003-05:00

It's been 10 days and 18 hours since my last training workout, so it should come as no surprise that I am in pain right now. The good news: another training race completed. The reality is I need to kick this into high gear if I'm to survive the mini that is a mere 8 weeks from now.

I am wiped out. The massage today was so-so, but at least I had one. Can't complain about that.

Git-R-Done

2008-01-28T19:45:00.000-05:00

My slow pace is one of the reasons I've struggled with training so far. Last year I made a hitting a 15 minute mile stride my goal, but over the course of 17 weeks, I was able to move from 18 to 17 minutes per mile...quite far off the mark. So this time I decided to eliminate the pace as a goal and focus on better conditioning so I don't die after this race. During our first training meeting, I learned that last year's walking coach cannot train with us due to arthritis, so the back-up coach (who is normally one of the running coaches) is leading this group. His natural pace is about a 12-13 minute mile. Seriously.

No joke, it discouraged me. The next two training days were lucky for me--due to scheduled events, I trained on my own with the treadmill. But when I had a migraine one day, I flaked on the walking group, and then last week I had a doctor's appointment scheduled during training. I know why I'm avoiding it, but I didn't know what to do about it. So this morning I responded to both coaches in email and told them how I felt. I explained that the pace is going to be an issue for me until I am either more conditioned or in better shape, and I felt like I was caught between doing the things that are necessary to get into shape yet not hitting my minimum training assignments if I couldn't keep up the pace with the group. I told them I would show up tonight (I have to travel for work on Wednesday), but I needed them to tell me if the slower pace would be a problem for the group. If so, they'd need to help me put together an individual plan I could do to meet what I need, too.

So. Tonight was okay. Sara (my normal coach) wasn't there, but Dale the super-walker was, and he acknowledged my email. He said that above all else, the most important thing is for each of us to meet our individual training needs, not the needs of the team. There is a new woman in the group nursing an ankle injury, so he paired us together, and then he made an effort to keep circling back from the front of the pack to the end to make sure we stayed connected.

I feel better now. Of course having to travel for work means one more chance for me to disrupt a very sensitive habit right now. SIGH.

In unrelated news, the ice cream was a hit at work. The boys loved it. Guinness-Chocolate ice cream is a guy magnet. I must perfect this recipe...add to my bag of tricks. It was a bit too soft, but that could be the beer.

My training tomorrow is called "Getting Things Done." It was kinda both my request and a requirement from my boss. When I get caught up in my suppliers' crises, I struggle to get the mundane stuff done because I over-prioritize the urgent stuff. This is partially why I end up staying late at work, but it also happens when I have a long work to-do list and nothing to really leave work for. The never-ending battle I face...and I tend to create it for myself, too. Another reason I'm reading "Never Check E-Mail in the Morning" which, believe me, is nearly impossible to do right now. If I can master this, I can reclaim my job. (:

I'm obsessed with Dance War: Bruno vs. Carrie Ann. I can barely wait for each Monday night, even though Bruno over-performs his surprise each time. Too bad it conflicts with Terminator: The Sarah Conner Chronicles. I was beginning to like that show.

Week 3: Chocolate + Beer

2008-01-27T19:44:00.000-05:00

Doing good on the diet, still mediocre on the gym/training. I'm struggling because my over-invested "must-meet-expectations" anxiety is still lurking. More on that later.

I'm getting the hang of this diet...as long as I log my calories/points every day, I stay on track. Even the weekly public shaming (weigh-in) isn't so bad.

Training this week: today. 3 miles on the bike, 10 minutes on the elliptical (um, wow...so out of shape), 1.5 miles on the treadmill. My timing to re-enter the training game is just like me too...I head to Arizona on Wednesday for work stuff, which means another disruption to my routine. SIGH. At least I have no plans on the weekend (other than football Sunday night), so if only I can find the motivation to crawl back to the gym next Saturday, I just might be able to get this into a healthy habit too.

Made some ice cream today...ice cream that is meant for sharing with folks at work and not keeping for myself. Turned out pretty good, so I'll share the details:

Guinness-Chocolate Ice Cream
(from The Perfect Scoop)

Makes about 1 quart. I have a 1.5 quart maker, and the frozen result was to the top, so it was a perfect amount. If you want the exact recipe, let me know...not sure if posting it violates copyright laws.

It called for milk chocolate, and the author advocates chocolate baking bars that are finely chopped into the desired quantity. I couldn't find this, so I bought Ghiradelli chocolate chips and then spent about 20 minutes chasing them around the cutting board as I tried to create what I think is supposed to be "finely chopped." I think they might have melted on their own without the added stress.

Making the custard mixture was interesting. Pour warmed mixture into egg yolks while whisking the entire time...what defines warm? I chose to use a thermometer and started the custard making process around 115 degrees. Instead of "ladling" the warmed sugar milk into my whisking bowl, I just just slowly dripped/tilted the pan so that it streamed in. But apparently, I was only half-way finished...I still needed to turn it into custard over medium heat without turning it into scrambled eggs. I continued to use the thermometer, and I started on low heat adding a tad more every 10 degrees or so. This proved successful. At 175, I poured it through a mesh strainer into the chocolate...once melted and smoothed, I started the ice bath and added the cream, beer, and vanilla.

I really wanted to finish this tonight, so I transferred the whole ice bath and mixture to the fridge to speed up the chilling process. Within an hour, it was down to 48 degrees and perfect for ice cream making. I transferred to 3 portable containers and will share with the beer-loving guys at work tomorrow.

Tomorrow is a Walking Group training day...yikes.

Yippee!!!!

2008-01-22T05:47:00.000-05:00

The pineapple sorbet was a success!! It yielded approx. 1/2 quart, but that's okay, I don't need to worry how I'll finish a full quart+ of sorbet crack on my own.

Notes: trouble freezing your freezer bowl? Fill with a bag of ice. Freezes in no time. Yummy, yummy pineapple. I feel so tropical right now...wish it was tropical outside so I could sit on my patio with a dish of this creamy goodness.

Grace Brings Contentment

2008-01-20T18:54:00.000-05:00

So Week 2 came and went and I only have 1 workout to show for it. However, I do have a full week of following my diet (even somewhat last night) and much to dish about my gourmet adventures (and mishaps).

Miss M came to Butler for a tournament this weekend, so she was going to drive separate from the team and stay in town for a visit. Since her car was towed in the Muncie Village the night before, she had to ride with the team. Approximately 15 seconds after I picked her up outside of Butler, she realized her luggage was in route back to Muncie inside the team van. After stopping the team on the northside of Indy and retrieving her suitcase, we returned to Broad Ripple for an amazing meal at Brugge Brasserie. Good thing I stored up my extra points today so I could indulge in the pomme frites (somewhat) guilt-free.

Have I mentioned it's colder than a witch's tit this weekend? Seriously.

So this morning, we were just too cozy inside to be bothered to make a trip to the gym. Plus we were engrossed with kitchen stuff...like our amazing Ginger Fruit Teabread with Mashed Banana. Too bad I didn't have any ginger, a loaf pan, or the foresight to read the directions thoroughly before I started the recipe. But I did improvise and, as to be expected, something turned out alright, but it wasn't the intended creation from the book.

Ingredients:
1/3 cup dried apricots (do not soak), coarsely chopped
scant 1/3 cup jumbo golden raisins (do not soak)
1/4 cup pitted prunes (no soak), coarsely chopped
1 1/4 strongly brewed tea (w/o milk), cool
1 1/2 all purpose flour
2 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. ground ginger
generous 1/2 raw brown sugar
1 medium egg, beaten
1 small banana, mashed (for topping)

[Sidebar: as I type this, I realize I misread and/or incorrectly estimated some of the amounts above which may explain why my creation is different. First, I only had cranberries and golden raisins, and I chopped that with my knife. I also estimated about 1 cup of fruit instead of the 2/3 plus 1/4 which would be less. Second, I smartly chose a ginger green tea to compensate for the lack of ground ginger in my pantry, but I not-so-smartly brewed 1 1/2 cups instead. Another possible reason my "mixture" was the consistency of pancake batter. Third, I didn't beat the egg. I must have missed that point too, as I just cracked it and added it to my sticky, uncooperative mess I had sitting in the blender. It was kinda like when you throw a wrench into a motor. Not pretty and almost a disaster until I added more liquid. Lastly, I never did make it to the banana topping, in part because I compensated regular & mini muffin pans plus one ramekin crock for the lack of a loaf pan. Mashed banana would have been a nice touch, I think.]

Beyond the sidebar substitutions listed above, I thought I was ready to move ahead.

Preparation:

1. Preheat oven to 350°F. Lightly grease a 2 lb loaf pan and line the bottom with parchment paper.

[No loaf pan, no parchment paper. Learned my lesson with a previous recipe NOT to substitute waxed paper when using the oven. So I sprayed the muffin pans and lined with muffin liners. I flattened a liner to use in the bottom of the ramekin crock later when I had too much batter.]

2. Put the dried fruit in a large measuring cup or bowl, then pour over the tea and let stand for at least 2 hours, stirring occasionally.

[This is where I learned the lesson of completely reading the directions before I begin a recipe. At this point, I turned off the oven, put my tea-fruit mixture to the side, and redirected my efforts into making my omelet breakfast SANS teabread.]

2 hours later...

3. (Return to #1 and resume instructions.) Put the flour, baking powder, ginger, sugar, and egg into a food processor and blend for a couple of minutes, or until well mixed. Add the dried fruit and blend again until mixed.

[Seriously, these post-cooking epiphanies are starting to annoy me. As I type this out, I realize yet another mistake is how I actually poured the tea with the fruit into the blender, upon which my pasty, sticky mess smoothed into a batter with no visible chunks of fruit. Interesting. This explains so much.]

4. Turn the mixture into the prepared pan, then level the surface and brush lightly with water. Place on the center rack in the oven and cook for 1 1/4 hours, or until cooked.

[Yes, I greatly modified the time given my 3 types of bakeware used. No, I found no need to either level or brush with water for obvious reasons.]

5. Let the cake cool in the pan for 10-15 minutes. Loosen the edges with a knife and then turn out onto a wire rack to cool. When cool, cut off slices and serve topped with mashed banana.

Serving size = 2 slices
Per serving: 240 calories, 1.3 g fat (.3 sat. fat)

I yielded 6 muffins, 12 mini muffins, and 1 "chunk" from my ramekin dish. I don't even know what that means, nutritionally. However, I must admit my creation is very, very good. Once everything cooled and the muffins actually peeled from the liners, these are dense like good old-fashioned breads (banana nut, etc.), and the flavor of the tea and fruit is really good.

I still wonder what kind of results the real recipe would have yielded. I'll be sure to let you know.

So after this, we decided to make my very first batch of sorbet.

What went right:

1. I allowed my freezer bowl to freeze for over 24 hours to ensure proper function.
2. I purchased freezer containers in advance.
3. I read my instructions twice before I started anything at all.
4. I used fresh lemons for my Amazing Lemon Sorbet.

What went wrong:

1. My freezer containers don't completely seal like they did in the store.
2. Lemon zest, apparently, is NOT the yellow rind of the lemon. It's the white rind below the color peel, and it's what dissolves on the stove, not the peel.
3. 6 lemons do not yield 1 cup of fresh juice. This yields 2 cups. [Please note, when the recipe offers two methods for measuring volume, one should always default to the actual yield according to the standardized measuring tools we've all come to accept as accurate.]
4. All ingredients going inside the freezer bowl need to be icebox cold, even if the instructions aren't as explicit. Otherwise, an hour of churning results in less-than-slush.

So. This did not turn out. At all. It's been almost 5 hours now since I started the sorbet process, and it's still a sub-standard state of slush. I can't even redeem this as a granita. Not sure what will happen when I check this mess tomorrow morning, but I am pretty certain that the world is not ready to turn super-tart lemon slush with chewy lemon peel into the next big gourmet breakthrough.

But I will not be discouraged. I've already primed the freezer bowl for a new batch I'll make tomorrow morning. And I've already liquefied my mixture and have it chilling in the fridge overnight to ensure my success. On tomorrow's agenda: fresh pineapple sorbet.

As I recap my adventures this past week, I've been sipping a Yogi tea. "Grace brings contentment" is the spiritual note provided, so I've been thinking how appropriate this is about me. I am the opposite: I am a klutz, I get lost, I make mistakes, and often, I'm not so content about much of anything. So, am I not so content because I'm not graceful? Or could this mean that I must seek out grace so that it will bring me contentment? Or could the opposite apply? Find contentment and I'll find grace...in any case, I felt the sentiment was appropriate today. Clearly I do not cook with grace, and my fumbles and follies continue to drive me to push on and keep trying. So maybe this is a good thing, yes?

Week 1 and stuff

2008-01-11T20:11:00.000-05:00

And so it begins.

The first week of training was uneventful, which is a good thing. Hit 3 days this week, and tomorrow is the beginning of Week 2.

I've added multiple layers of diet discipline in an attempt to prevent total abandonment when I derail. Weight Watchers, Alli, training series...I've even returned to therapy. My next step is to hire a Certified Personal Trainer (drill sargent) if all else fails.

The Weight Watchers factor is practical and comforting. Not only will my company reimburse me for half of the "tuition" if I attend all meetings, but it's a healthy food plan to keep me properly nourished for the training. And I attend these meetings with a co-worker, too. [Nothing like spreading the accountability.]

The Alli will be interesting. I tried it once before (a 30 day supply). I lost a few pounds, but more importantly, it was a fantastic tool that frightened me into eating honestly. I'm happy to report that I did not suffer for the ill-fated side effects often cited. Again, I think this is because the fear of these "treatment effects" scared me into keeping my diet low fat.

I pounded the treadmill yesterday, even though it was gorgeous outside. There's something satisfying about watching the numbers tick by while easing my way back into the groove. I think it's a way to deflect the accountability away from me and onto the machine.

A little over 2 miles. 18:45 minute pace. Much work still ahead for me.

This alone isn't newsworthy, but discovering that my first boyfriend shares a membership at this same gym could be. Apparently the gods don't think I've added enough layers of motivation to help me see this goal through...and clearly they have a sense of humor.

Oh, how seeing him conjured up so many tucked away memories...nothing really all that positive, which might explain my sudden sour mood and resentment on the treadmill.

The next several weeks are going to be quite busy. I am the backup hostess for February's gourmet Meetup, and the primary hosts just cancelled due to an ongoing family emergency. Sooooo, now I am the hostess. This will be interesting...in a coming post, I'll describe this event in more detail and the way in which I'm adding my personal touch. Ooooh, and I'll have a chance to use my new ice cream maker!

The Sorbet Gourmet is on the move...hehe.

The Perfect Scoop

2008-01-01T17:45:00.000-05:00

Ahh, new year, new postings...

The holidays were busy. I went home for Christmas, stopping in Nashville to pick up a friend (for the sake of incrimination, I will hereon refer to her as "Thelma"). Brought Chloe along for the trip thinking that drugs would prevent a repeat of what happened the last time we both stopped at Thelma's place. Although uneventful at her place, Chloe did throw a fit inside my new vehicle when I left her alone while I dined with friends. She flipped her food and water dish and kicked litter all over the back floor. When I returned, she jumped into my lap and started crying--with real tears. Have NEVER seen a cat do this before. Broke my heart. Later, I wondered if perhaps the tears were fake...she knew I'd be ticked about the mess she made, so maybe she flicked water in her face to make me think she had tears...even so, it worked. I let her sit in my lap as I followed Thelma back to her place for the night.

Stayed home a few days, drove back here, hosted my parents for the evening before they continued to Chicago to visit my brother. Then I hosted Thelma for our annual Colts-Titans event. That was Saturday, and I'm STILL recovering. Not sure how to even tell this story so I'll just list our events: (1) dinner and (too many) drinks at St. Elmo's, (2) more drinks at Nicky Blaine's, (3) cab ride home, (4) call maintenance to break into my apartment [forgot that I left my keys with a valet]...HANGOVER the next morning, but we repeat the events with a Bloody Mary brunch, lounging at Champp's for football before meeting friends for dinner and drinks at The Weber Grill...then the game...then more beer at another bar for post-game interviews, a shake run at Steak & Shake, home...it's taken almost 48 hours to recover from all of this. And SURPRISE!! My parents are returning here a day early...this will be interesting for sure.

And now I return to work tomorrow...back to the old routine of early mornings and early bedtimes...except I'm adding a dash of activity because mini-marathon training begins next week. Time to gear up for that!

Alas, this time I hope to blog about my training in a different manner. Now that I have a past experience behind me, I can see that I set my training accomplishment expectations too high last time. This time I'll be easier on myself--and my body. I'm using Dawn Dais's "The Non Runner's Marathon Guide for Women" as my handbook for all things training. My YMCA training starts next week, and I've registered for the training races and the mini itself. Dad's taking me out for new running shoes this week, and I've got all of my outdoor walking gear clean, folded, and ready for use. I hope to give weekly updates to my training in this blog, along with my new hobby, pretending that I am my own Gourmet Superstar!!

Another friend got me hooked on creating my own sorbet...she's busy crafting her own creations as she builds her recipe portfolio for gourmet gelato. After spending the weekend with her before Thanksgiving, I was inspired to follow my own pursuits. And lucky, lucky me...the T&S family bought me the Cuisinart model for Christmas!!! So excited to get started...so I hope to blog about these culinary attempts along with insight and fodder about my own participation in a Gourmet Cooking Club.

Another year for reflection...it's strange, as I know I wasn't happy this past year, but now that the year is complete, I don't feel as if it was all that bad...I feel like I'm still making small gains and am closer to figuring it out. I hope to be more diligent with the postings so that at the end of 2008, I have more details to review.

Lo siento a mi amigo...

2007-05-25T20:23:00.000-04:00

2 beers, half a bottle of wine and a bag of M&Ms later...

Here I am, pensive, but stumped. The Matrix Revolutions is playing in the background (not nearly as clever as the first in the series).

Dave drunk dialed me tonight. I didn't realize it at first, but soon it became clear. It stung: he doesn't find me attractive when he's sober, but when his beer goggles are on, he feels free to call me. The whole thing made me feel cheap. When I called him out, he backpedaled and tried to deny it. It will be interesting to see how he handles this when he sobers up.

So here I am, comfortably buzzed and over-indulging on chocolate. If this isn't emotional eating, then I don't know what is.

I owe a friend an apology. Sharing this concern in this space is a bit weird for me as I don't want this to seem like a passive/aggressive tactic to avoid facing her. I haven't actually told her this yet, but releasing this feeling/worry is a good thing for me right now. I owe her an apology because she was trying to help me last week, and my responses to her didn't express that I appreciated it. Before I talk about the apology, I need to explain my current state of angst.

A while back, I took stock in my life--who I am and the kind of lifestyle I want to lead--and I realized how far off the mark I am from what I want. So I made an effort to incorporate a variety of changes, and when these didn't pan out as I expected (or wanted), I felt disillusioned about life.

As I work through this icky feeling of disappointment and regret, I was caught off-guard when she asked how I feel right now. This is why I owe her an apology: I tried to describe how I felt, but I used the wrong words. For example, I wanted to tell her how I feel like the color red...but instead of describing the color red to her, I described the color yellow...and she was listening, so she thinks I feel like yellow, and she responded with words of encouragement and suggestions, but it frustrated me because I knew this was wrong. I wanted her to understand that I felt red, but since I wasn't using the correct language, she couldn't hear me...she wasn't understanding me. And I think I frustrated her too...I owe her an apology for using the wrong language.

I want her to know that in spite of my seemingly self-absorbed misery, I was listening to her. Much of what she suggested stuck with me. I've been mulling over my feelings and how/why I feel so frustrated, so all of these uneasy thoughts replay through my mind. But I'm still working through it. In fact, it's almost a week later, and things she said are still on my mind. I just need to finish this so I can share it with her.

I was made for you...

2007-05-13T20:20:00.000-04:00

At some point, I want to talk about my mini-marathon experience and how it's all made me feel...but I think a lot of those feelings are still stuffed below the surface and my mind is clogged right now. Hopefully I'll find a way to come back to it.

Tonight I want to write about happiness.

I'm reading this book right now called "Stumbling on Happiness." It's an interesting read, though not exactly riveting. It's written by a psychology professor so it's got just a tad too much nerdiness for the non-academic reader. Perhaps this is why I'm still reading it.

It's an interesting take on what I'm calling the Theory of Happiness Relativity.

I'm not happy. But I'm also not sad. I'm simply "not happy." I'm not sure how to define this...it's a feeling of discontent/frustration/disappointment...but it is not the same as the sadness I've felt before. [Sidebar: the book talks about a condition known as "numbfeel" in which awareness and emotional experience are disconnected...also called "alexithymia" in scientific cirlces as a term to describe people who lack the introspective awareness of how they feel. I find this condition fascinating...as a scholar of words and the power/effect that words have on people, it's quite a phenomena in which the lexicon and language tools are there, but the emotional ability to articulate is missing.]

Does it matter that I can't describe what "not happy" means and feels to me? Perhaps it doesn't...and perhaps it's more valuable to recognize that I still need to work out what will make me happy. And yet, my down time finds me mulling over this state of not happiness, so I know that deep down, it matters. Maybe it's because I've spent a significant portion of my adult life drowning in sadness...and since lifting from that state, I've found the words to describe it. Therefore, I'm frustrated that I can't find the words to explain "not happy."

In a related side note, I do my own therapy sessions...unfortunately, these aren't always scheduled at my convenience. Today's session suddenly occured during my shower. [Sidebar (again): I do my "best" thinking in the shower, while I'm driving, or when I'm washing dishes. Like other ADHD creative people, these high energy spurts come about when I'm engaged in a captivating activity...such as showering, driving, or washing dishes. I discovered this about myself a few years ago, but it wasn't until recently that I realized my mother is the same way...which is why I think she keeps herself busy and on the move at all times. I can recall as a child watching her when she was doing something at home--folding laundry, curling her hair, or working a crossword puzzle--she doesn't know this, but I'd catch her lips moving like she was talking to herself (or, as I realize now, she was either preparing her response to a projected conversation or playing out the fantasy of a conversation she wished to have). Now that I have these thought bursts too, I've realized she might also be working through her ideas for the writing projects she's never finished.]

No one understands me. Now, I don't mean to toss that out like some over-generalization of a tortured pseduo-academic, overthinking, single female. I mean that when it comes down to the basics of basics, there isn't one person who really, really, REALLY understands me. The kind of understanding I'm referring to here is the kind that not only comes from knowing the history of me, but being there for me as I experience new things. This is the kind of understanding that is somewhat tied to my intimate space (not necessarily sexual intimacy) or not only knowing the details of my past and witnessing the experiences of my present, but being able to connect the dots. I don't mean to imply that I'm so complex that it requries someone with astounding intelligence to understand me. I'm really much more simple than that. What it speaks to, however, is a desire to know me (or at least a lack of fear to know me).

That was my big epiphany today...that there isn't one person who completely understands me. Is that what a "soul mate" means? What does it mean (or better, what does it require) to truly know someone?

And yes, this segues perfectly into my parting thoughts...my latest CD purchase is Brandi Carlile's "The Story." Not only is her music soothing, intelligent, and fitting for the occasion, but her lyrics are quite thought-provoking. [Sidebar (last one, I promise!!): she had a concert at the Music Mill tonight. I didn't have tickets or anyone to attend with me, but I gave it serious thought to catch this show by myself. Bill once shared with me how he attends concerts by himself and at the time, my heart nearly broke for him. I think the emotional energy of concerts are best received when shared with someone else. I kept imagining this lonely man feeling without anyone to share in the connection of the music...but now I understand. Does this mean I've matured or that I'm now truly a desperate woman???]

Her title track is fabulous. Not only does the melody grab at my heart and force me to sit up and pay attention, but the lyrics seem like they are an extension of my own disconnected thoughts (though surprisingly connected when set to music). A few segments from her song:

"All of these lines across my face tell you the story of who I am, so many stories of where I've been and how I got to where I am, but these stories don't mean anything when you've got no one to tell them to..."

"...all of my friends who think that I am blessed, they don't know that my head is a mess. No, they don't know who I really am, and they don't know what I've been through like you do..."

Isn't that what this is all about? This is why we build our communities of trust and companionship...this is why we seek out love and take the risk to fall in love with someone else...above all else, humans desire emotional connection to others. Unfortunately for some of us, this companionship is elusive.

My need to be understood is so brazen right now. What if I can't resolve this? Is that even an option?

"Nothing to Lose" by Mat Kearney

2007-04-24T19:32:00.001-04:00

I had to make a visit to a prospective supplier this week. Since they're located only a few hours from the plant, I drove for this trip. Once I got outside of the city, it wasn't a bad drive--a straight shot up to the northern part of the state along a state highway. Good, easy drives always lead to a clearing of my mind and either new project ideas or at least a some sort of mental aerobics that gives my mind a workout.

I have a new CD. It's a copy of the latest from Mat Kearney. I saw his concert a few weeks ago (with Rocco Deluca, my new crush), and I love, LOVE this CD. Track 10 (All I Need) is my new obsession. I played this CD over and over while I drove and it led to all sorts of thoughts about school, my job, and (of course) D. I'm ready to make some decisions.

[Sidebar: Mat Kearney quotes a friend and says that driving through the Midwest is friendly and lonely. As I think this through, I agree that the roads *are* lonely. I've made the Detroit to Indy drive for years, plus the Indy to Cincy, Indy to Nashville, and Indy out west...but all of my trips, while lonely, do give me a sense of peace during the drive, so as I think about his statement, I agree, but as a native Hoosier, I take comfort in that (or at least I think so). When I lived in LA, I had an interesting conversation with a non-native client through the hotel. When he learned I was moving back home, he commented that he knew I wasn't Caly native. When I lived in Mississippi, I met someone there who had lived (and raised children) in Marion, IN for a short while. To an audience of southern women, she explained Hoosier Hospitality in relation to southern hospitality...in the south, there is a genuine friendliness, but it's borne out of etiquette and a deeply entrenched decorum while Hoosier Hospitality may not extend out of manners, but when the graciousness is extended, it's for real. How the hell do I get off on these tangents?]

One last diversion...while Rocco Deluca emotes a sexy ephemeral persona regardless of his music, Mat Kearney projects a boy next door sexiness only evident in his music. It's a mind fuck state...and boy, do I tend to fall for those. I like the boys not so easy on the eyes, but when they open the window to their soul, I fall head over heels.

But back to what I discovered today. Part of my thought exercise leads me to ask, am I heavy with hope and anticipation or light with apprehension and concern? It's not just a question for me...you could benefit from this too. I'm not sure how to answer this just yet. I think that some days I live my life heavy with apprehension and concern, so I need to figure out how I flip this around so the heaviness leaves my heart.

I've started working through the heavy decisions associated with finishing my degree. I think there are a few factors fueling this: a former academic friend resurfacing and trying to carve a space back into my life. I want to open my heart to this again, and with it my prior pain and disappointment of school comes back to stare me in the face. But more than that is the what, when and how associated with completion. I need to accept not only what I want, but make sure I carve out the space and time to devote to this. So of course I recognize that I'm very scared.

I believe (it's true, even if I'm alone with my thoughts) that Academia is The Black Widow of social science. Those who've been exposed to her would agree, I think. It's all just a game, but those who survive it are able to carve out a space for themselves as they move forward in life.

The problem for me is that I'm still stinging for the ass-kicking she gave me. This wasn't a standard push-me-to-my-limits kind of ass-kicking. This was a spirit sucking, ego smashing, confidence shattering ass-kicking. I invested the best parts of me into her, and when she kissed me, she sucked the life right out of me and left me to deal with the empty carcass that no longer even looked like me. Academia is the Bitch of all bitches. She is selfish, self-absorbed, vain, and always in need of fresh blood to infuse more life into her. And naïve me didn't see it coming.

Part of me is still a fighter, and I want to argue that this time I'm armed and dangerous and she won't be able to exploit me again. Sometimes our impact and the effect we have on life is fueled more by our assertion than our action.

But unlike past loves, I have not forgotten what Academia did to me. I know what she looks like, I know where she likes to hide, and I've gotten used to her pattern for haunting me. I'm very much aware that Academia is a femme fatale. Academia led me to disillusionment, and I crumbled as a result. This will not happen to me twice.

So part of me is scared.

What do I do?

Kiss the Cook

2007-04-21T13:41:00.000-04:00

Once again D is heavy on my mind.

I've been feeling a lot of pressure at work lately due to increasing demands in the market plus changes happening within my team. All of this leaves me feeling emotionally raw so that when I come home from work and face an empty home and litte social life, I don't feel much is there to reinvigorate me. I recognize that my self-renewal must come from me...but I can't seem to find the appropriate outlet for this. The walking and training is a good energy outlet, but it's not enough. I'm wresting with my self-image demons and until these are conquered, I don't think exercise will help me let go of the pressures at work.

I think this is why I turn to wine. I haven't found anything that helps me temperarily release my stress quite as well as alcohol...but this is not without its side effects as well. Bloating, can't lose weight, headaches, and sometimes fatigue.

Giving up alcohol was perhaps a bit too much right now, but I think it's important that I keep perspective.

Anyway........D is on my mind because we had sex last week. Yes, I broke every single one of the rules I set with him. But I don't feel ashamed and I don't feel anxious. It's rather odd.

It was an odd night to begin with. The beatings from work left me drained, so I sought refuge through D, beer, and good food. During the course of the evening, I encountered a friend I haven't seen in years (he's the ex-husband of my college roommate and been avoiding all of us because of what he did to her), a colleague from work (one who had created a significant amount of my work pressure), and my boss's daughter (never met her before, just recognized her from the picture on his desk)...during which quite a lot of beer was consumed by everyone.

The state of my intoxication is why I spent the night with D, but I'm not sure I can say that is the reason I had sex with him. It's probably why I wasn't weighing the consequences, but I need to own that it's because of my loneliness and feelings for him that I didn't stop it from happening.

All of my no-touch rules were to protect my heart. Open communication (and the ability to articulate our thoughts and feelings) is one of the key strengths that we have together. I *know* his heart is not available, and I *know* where he stands with his ex...therefore I *know* he will break my heart if I give it to him. But then this also means I'm not taking the risk, and I'm no better off than before. And yet, I don't feel anxious about what happened because I don't pretend that it means something more than what it was--spontaneous drunk sex between two lonely people. It is sad, however, that it can't be more than that.

I wish he weren't on my mind so much.

In totally unrelated news, I've wagered a domestics contest with a coworker...I'll call him Brawny (like the papertowel man). Recently he's been putting a lot of home improvement efforts into his house, and he likes to boast his accomplishments with before and after pictures. He's also been a tremendous help for me in my new role, and through his support, we've bonded in an almost competitive way. When I need immediate help, I bribe him with beer. When I want to show my gratitude, I give him worms and beer or I bring him Starbucks. When I'm in a jam with my supplier, I wager that he's not able to bail me out which then ups the stakes of the issue. And most recently, we have a lunch bet on the line to see whose supplier will step up and out-perform the other.

Brawny sent me pictures of his kitchen remodeling project, and he mentioned his mother is coming to town to help him finish the interior painting. This led to my stories about my folks and their home improvement projects for me, and I started bragging about the shower curtain my mother made me. (Really, it's the most fabulous shower curtain ever and it really puts the finishing touch on how that bathroom looks.) Brawny said it couldn't compare to his recent bathroom remodel in which he retiled the floor and the tub area. So now it's on. We're going to compete against each other to see who created the best looking bathroom. We're compiling a list of judges now, but I'm not sure what the stakes are other than we're both overly proud of our domestic talents and neither wants to concede that the other could be better.

It's on.

In tennis, love means zero...

2007-04-13T19:35:00.000-04:00

Friendship with D is very difficult for me. I told him that the other day, but then I backpedaled how I tried to describe it to him. I didn't want him to think it's due to the emotional heaviness he's suffering through on his own right now. And that much is true. It's not because of him and his issues...but it is because of him and my issues.

[Sidebar: How many times have I been back to this sad and lonely place? Each time I talk myself into taking a risk and put an effort into letting go, I look down and get scared. So I cower back into my safe place, retreat into my shell, and rush through all discomfort I feel. How many times is this now?]

I'm still struggling to articulate why it's difficult, but I have a few examples to illustrate. I can recall one of the times he kissed me before he left my place. I remember that it felt good, but after I said goodbye and closed the door, I suddenly burst into tears. I was so confused because I didn't know why I was crying--nice date, good kiss--but I realized I wasn't crying because I was sad, but because I felt raw. So I tried to just take in the moment. I thought about how hard it was for me to accept the risk of someone new, but I also thought about Bryce. I didn't know why he popped into my mind, but the whole vulnerable feeling of the moment was apparent to me. My crying was sudden, surprising, and it ended abruptly. I dismissed the ordeal as a side effect of learning to open my heart again.

Being friends with D is also difficult because in spite of being honest with him about my feelings, I still could not let go of my fear (of rejection, a broken heart, ridicule). I offered friendship, but when he waffled on that, I closed up and took cover from the pain...basically, I ran away and tried to rush through the discomfort I felt. But when he reeled me back in with a plea to reconsider, my tough façade crumbled (again), and here I am living each moment in discomfort. Smart Girl postures with Carrie Bradshaw talk and a Cosmo Girl walk...but Lonely Girl is the real reflection in the mirror. Who's kidding who? I think it's all me.

Another example I can share happened at the concert. Standing there alone, I worried he wouldn't show up. Soon after he arrived, I thought I saw Bryce...which, of course, conjured up more memories than I care to admit. It was precisely the kind of music and venue I would have attended with Bryce years ago. I found myself absorbed by the sound and really feeling the energy of the music embrace me, and it left me feeling raw and passionate yet restless. Old memories of concerts past flooded my mind--memories I'd long since forgotten--and lost feelings of love and being loved surfaced at this moment. And yet I was at this concert with D, but as a friend.

Things with Bryce started as a simple friendship. I wasn't even attracted to him when I met him. D talked about timing the other night, and I couldn't agree more...the way in which I fell in love with Bryce had everything to do with the appropriate timing for us both. It just didn't last, as I grew up in a way different from him and we no longer shared the same idea for how to live a full life with each other.

I'm still left trying to understand why friendship with D is still difficult. I've accepted our boundaries and individual limitations. I recognize his heart lies with someone else. To me, all of this is visible and there are no games. I suspect it's still difficult, however, because of the last of the unfinished Bryce business I have yet to resolve. I thought it was long gone, but certain forgotten bits are still trying to work their way out of my body, I think.

Love Thirty.

One year older, but one year wiser? My heart says no...

2007-04-02T20:36:00.000-04:00

Tomorrow is my birthday.

I find that my evening walks open the opportunity for my mind to clear and my thoughts and ideas will surface. During a walk last week, I started down memory lane with all of my birthdays from 21 to present and why somewhere around 24 I stopped wanting to celebrate this day with other people. After thinking through the different celebrations, I realized that when well-meaning friends try to take over the day, then it ends up making me feel worthless and, as a result, I feel like shrinking to make myself less visible on this supposed very self-aware day. I've also realized that despite the whole list of dysfunctional feelings that result from spending time with my family, my birthday is the one celebration I like to have with them. These well-meaning friends have turned my special day into a battleground, and that makes me loathe the day it comes around.

Tomorrow is my birthday and, for the first time in at least 5 years, I'm actually looking forward to celebrating this day with someone else. I do wonder if it's because it's a day that I've let sneak up on me, or if it's because I'm in a new place with myself and open to the goodness that life can give me. I also wonder if it's because I'm spending the evening with D.

The rational and realistic side of my brain reminds me that D is still in love with his ex and, more than that, not attracted to me. The emotional side remembers how much fun I have when I spend time with him. And even though I've put forth every single rational and realistic roadblock I can imagine, my heart is in this and, I fear, in for a beating. I don't know how to stop it.

All I know to do is daily, DAILY, remind myself where things stand with us and where his heart still lives. It's like daily affirmations for carnal living.

I tried to break it off and even break off the friendship, but he reached back for me and I couldn't resist. I still don't know if it's because I'm up for the adventure or if it's because I'm desperate for attention from anyone--even someone who isn't into me the way I am into him. This could also be the wine talking, but I don't want to foreclose this thought process by protocol. I need to recognize where my heart is in this and accept what I've chosen to follow.

I want to ensure that I do not delude myself into thinking he will change his heart, nor do I want to sit around waiting for him. True, this sounds reasonable and even smart. But am I already playing roulette with my heart? Or is pursuing a platonic friendship really the only way to re-learn how to just be his friend?

A Day in the Life of...

2007-03-15T18:14:00.000-04:00

I'm not sure how I should organize my thoughts right now...I want to talk about my second race last week (and how the endorphin rush inspired new thoughts for Ultimate Running race activities), I *need* to talk about D, and I have workplace updates to sort through...I just don't know where to start.

Workplace News: major changes are taking place within my division of the company, and I'm going have a slew of new opportunities to consider. One of the biggest consequences of these changes means a split in location--some of us will remain in Indy and others will be relocated to Chantilly. Where is Chantilly? I thought it meant we'd be moving to the UK, but apparently Chantilly is a suburb of DC. I cannot explain how excited this news makes me feel. I really miss the urban life I had in Detroit, and I am going to tell my management they can redeploy me to this location if they'd like. I'm single, no house, no kids, and my family doesn't live here anymore, so I could be ready for this. Better yet, I'm on the team that gets to create the detail and structure to support the changes that have already been approved, so I'll have a little advance knowledge of how these changes could affect me. I really think this could be a good thing for me.

Mini-Marathon Training News: I participated in the 10K. I felt good, my endorphins kicked into overdrive, and although I know I need more intense training to be prepared for the race in May, I think I'm on track for the 15K. Completing these races do not make me feel satisfied or give me a sense of accomplishment, and no matter how I try to look at it, there is still this deep (emotional) ache that doesn't go away...but they do provide me the reassurance that I CAN do this, and I'm using each race as a litmus test for the limitations of my body. I've already accepted I will not complete these races as a runner, but I've decided that when the race series ends in May, I'm going to start another training program that will put me on track to run the race series next year. Learning how to run seems exciting to me, and I look forward to it. But first, I MUST drop some additional weight or else I could kill my knees because of the extra stress.

The good news is this race didn't dredge up any past emotional baggage related to my sense of self and whether or not I'm a "good enough" woman. I have a lot of body shame, and that seeped through during the last race. But this race was good...I kept an even pace, I was forward-focused, and even though I started to feel fatigue in my feet by the last mile, I was able to finish. Um, this time 6 people finished behind me. I'm picking 7 for my next race.

Next race: 15K in 4 weeks.

So now it's time to talk about D...again. So to recap: I met the boy, dated for a while, really enjoyed his company and tried to allow myself to be open to possibility of love. I reached a point in which I knew it was not so simple to just date him, but I was fairly certain he was not in the same place as me given prior conversations we had. Also, in spite of the many times he proclaimed himself quite open with people, I found him hard to figure out and he often seemed distant and closed off from me...like he was on the defensive around me, and I could not figure out why. After an amazing date that ended for me with the fear of a broken heart, I started to close off my heart to him. It was the only way I knew to protect it. He pulled away too, and I read this as disinterest.

In the same sudden manner that he disappeared from me, he popped back into my life. So this time I made the decision for my heart. I told him how I felt, what I feared, and that I was making a decision to close off the possibility of dating, but I wanted to remain friends. I honestly thought this was possible due to how we never jumped into anything and I was willing to close off that part of my heart. Over the many, many years I've done this, I find that I've become quite skilled at it. I did not want to lose him as a friend, and I thought that we could do this.

And yet he disappeared again. So I did not chase him. But he'd make a brief appearance in the form of an email, text message, or telephone call, but if I responded, he'd disappear again. So I called him out last night, and it was a bizarre and disappointing phone call. He confused me, he danced around what he was trying to say, and even though he was saying that yeah, being friends would be cool, it didn't feel sincere, and I was left feeling like the joke...like somehow I wasn't getting that despite his words, this was a polite form of good bye.

After weeks of feeling at peace with myself, I now felt like crap and like a loser. I made the decision this morning that not only do I not have the time to feel this way, but that I wasn't going to chase this. As much as I really, really, really enjoy the time I spend with him (and honestly feel capable of closing off the dating feelings), I couldn't allow myself to feel this bad about it. So I said good bye to him. Yes, in an email. I just couldn't talk to him anymore if I was going to be left feeling more empty and rotten after we speak. And I really meant my good bye too. It was sad, but I was at peace with this. I've had to learn the hard way that I must continue to do what's right for me, even if it isn't right for someone else. What I need, above all else right now, is to feel protected. And trying to figure out D was not very safe for me.

And then I did my normal cleansing ritual I do when a relationship ends. I deleted all emails, his phone number, and anything that would leave a memory of him. It was too painful. I also prepared myself for the fact that he might respond. I was very careful in my decision to say good bye. I did not do this as a ploy, so I made a decision that I would not answer him if he tried to reach out one last time.

Except I was not prepared for his message to me. Without exposing the details, he not only reached out to me to be his friend, but he shared some deeply personal things he's been struggling with, he owned that he should have shared these with me before, and he asked me to reconsider and give him another chance to be my friend...he really poured his heart out to me and showed me a vulnerable and real side of him that he's not shared before.

I'm still angry, though I'm not sure I'm angry at him. I think I'm angry that I still feel connected and his message really struck my heart. But my anger is subsiding, and if he's sincere, I think I can be his friend. Although I still feel cagey and on-guard, so it might take me a while to soften with him again. But I did soften enough to respond. I told him I appreciated his candor, but I needed some time to process his message. I also told him that I wouldn't bail on him, but he needed to figure out how to stop pushing me away. And I said I couldn't date him.

So. I have a lot to think about, and I don't know what I'll say to him. I want to make sure I don't lose sight of me in this.

Judith Butler would be ashamed of me...

2007-03-13T18:46:00.000-04:00

I'm so mad right now, I could spit.

I never really did understand the logic behind that statement, but I hear it all of the time. Frankly, the statement makes me feel trapped inside some ridiculous 20th century coming-of-age (pre-Judy Blume era) novel...you know what kind I'm talking about--where we're supposed to fall in the love with the heroine who is aching to challenge the Establishment, but she's caught between wanting to follow the freedom that will unlock her heart and her immobilizing fear of breaking the norm, so she's reconditioned to present her docile and ever-so-subordinate young woman idolized during that time.

Society never welcomes the Bitch into her house, does she?

Because I worry of workplace retaliation, I need to be careful how I tell this story. The boring sketch tells the story of a friend who traveled last week with a male co-worker from another team, and this co-worker said and did inappropriate things that made her uncomfortable, so while she did inform her boss upon her return, she doesn't want to file a complaint because she's afraid of the corporate sexual harassment policy (zero tolerance) that might cost him his job and all she wants is to ensure she doesn't have to travel with him again. Something a lot of women have probably experienced, yes?

What makes me mad are the details of her story. As she unraveled the events, I grew more horrified with each example she provided, as it is clear this co-worker not only lacks tact, but his actions suggest that he was trying to create opportunities to be alone with her AND isolate her from other people. This is where borderline social nerd turns creepy. Oh, and then there was the absolutely blatant sexual pick-up involving a hot tub...but I've rushed ahead too much and need to back up a bit.

This co-worker has poor personal hygiene and is beyond morbidly obese, but he seems to have a pleasant demeanor in spite of his tendency to say and do embarrassing things in social situations. He has a history of disclosing too much personal information--my friend learned on a prior team trip that this co-worker and his wife engage in extra-marital sexual activities, and I learned on a team trip with him that he once had a fight with his ex-wife in which she locked him out of the bedroom, so he kicked down the door causing her to draw a gun on him, upon which he physically struck her in an attempt to defend himself. Oh, how the color gray looks different to everyone.

Days before this trip, he suggested she bring along her swimsuit because the hotel had a hot tub. The look of horror on her face must have been apparent because he quickly tried to come back with a witty comment about a fat man in a Speedo. She shared this story with me and we both had a good laugh. I wished her well on her trip.

The first night of their trip, he came to her room and knocked on her door close to midnight. She was caught off guard, and she didn't open the door to him. The next day, he overshared with her his personal frustration with our company and openly complained about the members of their team. In front of the supplier, he made a disparaging remark about our company, somewhat compromising his credibility to those who were present. My friend was embarrassed, but again, shrugged it off as more tactless behavior. That evening before they headed out to dinner, she tried to schedule a ride to the airport with the hotel shuttle, but he interrupted her request, created a loud scene in the hotel lobby, and informed her he would take her to the airport in the morning (despite the 3 hour difference between their departing flights on different airlines). In a subordinating tone, he cut off her conversation with "We'll discuss this over dinner." During dinner, he continued to make disruptive scenes so other patrons would look their way. When he noticed her shiver because of the cold air, he said, "Well, it seems that the only way I'm going to be able to warm you up is to put you in the hot tub when we get back." Completely stunned, my friend responded, "The only thing I'll be doing when I return to the hotel is my Accounting homework," to which he tried to offer his tutoring services to her, but she continued to decline. Due to her people-pleasing and I-don't-want-to-cause-a-scene demeanor, she accepted the ride to the airport the next morning, but not only did he cause them to leave the hotel late, he headed in the opposite direction from the airport and refused to turn around for nearly 4 miles. When he dropped her off at Departures, she thought she was finally rid of his inappropriate behavior for the time being, but then he showed up at her gate and waited with her until she boarded her flight. Did I mention his flight left 3 hours later and on a different airline?

Is this the odd behavior of a socially awkward and lonely man, or does it suggest predatory/stalking behavior? In this day and age of zero tolerance sexual harassment, most corporate policies leave little room to resolve the gray area of inappropriate behavior that causes someone discomfort. Most men consider corporate policies skewed unfairly in favor of women with little room for men to explain their side of the story. For every case of true sexual harassment, it seems as if there is a corresponding case of false accusation. So what are we supposed to do? Without actual harm as a result of the encounter, how does one sincerely interpret what happened and why they feel uncomfortable? Women are socially groomed to silently endure discomfort and only speak out when they are truly harmed. Besides, no woman wants to be known as the person who got someone fired simply because he made her feel uncomfortable. Social and personal comfort is so subjective these days.

I truly feel for my friend. As she told her story, she tried to explain what his intent could have meant with his actions...in essence, she was trying to rationalize away how he made her feel. I reminded her that it did not matter his intent--he could be sincere and nerdy and unaware that he crossed a line or he could have been trying to create an opportunity for an invitation--it really doesn't matter what he intended nor will she ever know without confronting him...the bottom line is that his actions were inappropriate, and that is not something she should ignore.

I feel for my friend because I recognize all too well that her need to soothe the situation and not stir up trouble with the company is part of how women are socially conditioned to be docile. In my mind, she should have felt empowered to stand up for herself, call out his behavior and inform him when he crossed the line, but in all honestly, I know that if I were to be in her situation, I would have done much of the same as her--I would have tried to endure the best I can and have minimal contact, not challenge him, and try to make myself as small and invisible as possible, praying that my trip would end soon so I could get back to my comfort zone.

WHY IS THAT??? Why do we do that? I'm tired. I need to ponder this some more.

Pre-Race Jitters

2007-03-04T22:08:00.000-05:00

I'm in a pensive mood right now...these moments happen when I'm the right mix of relaxed and stimulated at the same time (if that makes sense)...like not a sleepy/dreamy relaxed, but the kind of relaxed in which I don't have a laundry list of things I need to do running through my mind.

I'll be the first to admit, sometimes it's the alcohol. However, tonight is my last drink for the rest of the week. Including wine. I have a race next Saturday, and I want to be at my optimum performance and not suffering from a sulfide-induced headache. [Besides, I just poured off the last of my Absolut so it's a good time to pretend I'm abstaining for Lent.]

"You come off as totally self-confident, but why not take a peek behind that oh-so-confident façade. Are you actually a little bit frightened of romantic attachment? Of intimacy and the vulnerability that goes along with it? Hey, that's totally normal. The question is, why do you try so hard to hide it? Ponder that this month."

I told you He talks to me through my horoscopes. No one else knows I struggle with this exact issue. I go back and forth, wrestling with my mind and my heart...I recently took the easy way out with D and am putting forth a valiant effort to close off my heart. I'm still struggling with this. And so He spoke to me again today: "Don't automatically give up what you want--examine the situation."

And so now I need to talk about D again.

I was at ease with my decision to tell D that it's better if we're just friends for now. It still feels like the most rational and logical decision under the circumstances. Besides, it eased my stress and cleared my mind...it allowed me to redirect my thoughts to the critical stuff at work.

Yes, I was afraid of getting hurt, but this isn't all about me. It's about him too. He's not ready (or he's not ready for me). I don't want to take a risk with him and then lose even the possibility of friendship with him, so this seems like the most reasonable (and yes, I admit, SAFE) thing to do.

So I gave up what I wanted because I was afraid. But you know, you cannot choose someone who isn't available to be chosen...so is that really giving up or is it a stalemate?

In other news of changes with Ruby...the longest relationship I've ever had with any hairdresser is the one that I have right now. When T got married, this is the woman who created my fabulous up-do. When I moved back to this state, I immediately worked my way into her limited schedule.

I trust her completely. Each cut, style, and coloring that she's given me...I've taken these risks from her suggestion. This last change is no exception. I went in for a trim and new highlights, and I left with a 5 inches cut off and a new do. The biggest risk is how her style can look fabulous when I leave her shop but it's essentially unrepeatable when left to my own devices the next day. However, this one may be a keeper. Not only was I able to reproduce her style, but I think I'm going to really like the new things I can do with it too.

So happiness (at least for today) is that I have new glasses and new hair...alas, I'll be content with this for a while.

Right now the weather indicates warmer temperatures (30s-40s) but 40% chance of rain next Saturday...I’m not sure which is worse--the bitter cold and biting wind (but no rain), or tolerable temperatures with water splattering in my face. 6 miles is going to take me approximately an hour and 45 minutes to finish...this will be interesting. More to post on that when it happens.

p.s. I watched the film "Hard Candy" last night. Um, this is perhaps one of the darkest films I've watched in a while...the castration scene was handled extremely well and despite not showing any bit of the gore, I struggled to sit still and be able to watch the scene in full...the actor did a phenomenal job really creating the tension for us. It's like "Misery" meets "Take Back the Night"...Ellen Page was amazing.

Desperately Seeking Stevie...

2007-02-25T21:57:00.000-05:00

"A million delightful ideas are crowding your head, and your spirit is as effervescent as seltzer water. It's a great time to mix in with a big crowd...they'll love your enthusiasm."

Translation: you have ADD and you've been identifying too well with the vodka & soda drinks at the bar...it's time to lose yourself in the chaos around you.

Yes, I would say His sense of humor has returned.

Training kicked my ass hard today. Today was my endurance day, and I'm a week behind the schedule. I ran/walked 5 miles today at the gym. That's the longest distance I've ever hit in one session, and it's just a mile and change under the distance for my next race, the 10K. I feel good that I made it and I feel comfortable that I'll make it through the next event.

Except I feel like I need to hack off my left foot. It's throbbing in pain, and I was actually limping around my apartment when I came home. Something is not right with that foot, and I can't figure out what I'm supposed to do about it. If this is what happens after 5 miles, I'm afraid of what will happen when I walk the mini-marathon.

I am soooooooo out of shape. 5 miles really hurt me, and I ended up soaking in a hot bath with a tall, icy vodka & soda to ease my pain. It worked, but I'm not sure it's a race-sanctioned recovery practice and I probably should refrain from sharing it with others. Oh well, the bath has me warm and relaxed (and my skin so freakin' soft right now...it's a shame I have no boy to share this with). As soon as I finish this post, I'm off to winky town.

Oh! I almost forgot! I found out today that Stevie Nicks is going on tour with Chris Isaak this summer, but there isn't any ticket information available on her website except for a few shows in Vegas next month.

I love Chris Issak.
I LOVE Stevie Nicks.
Therefore I MUST find tickets to this show.

All I want for my birthday is a ticket to this show. I cannot explain how overwhelmingly excited I am right now. I have no one I know of that would want to go with me, but I don't care. I am in love with the notion that I could see both of them together at one venue. This is better than The Police reunion or meeting Billy Corgan in person. I have no idea if she'll even make it to Indy, but I'll catch a Detroit or Chicago venue if I have to...I will now stalk her official website until it provides updated tour information. I'm so excited right now...

Screw Kappa Napa

2007-02-24T22:58:00.000-05:00

I've been thinking a lot about emotions and what they mean. Things happen to us that leave a mark in time. These marks are our wounds, and we carry our wounds around with us until they kill us.

Visibility is a trap.

How many ways can I say that? How many ways can I describe it? If we're not careful, we can be trapped by our pain. But if we're too careful, we can disappear into oblivion and no one will ever see us again.

I am quite unhappy with my life right now. This is a productive kind of unhappiness, though. I'm angry and frustrated, so it motivates me to do something to make my life happy again. This is different from the kind of unhappiness I've experienced before in which depression just takes a vice grip kind of hold over me.

I think much of my unhappiness stems from feeling stuck and unable to make a coherent decision. Usually I just make decisions and move from there. I have the ability to accept the consequences--even those that are unknown--and a belief that I'll persevere, or at least a belief that no matter the consequences, I'll still come out ahead. Decisions (even the poor ones) are what move me forward in life.

But lately I've felt stuck (some might call it creative constipation), and because I've worried that my decisions might leave me with consequences worse off than the kind of life I have now, I've put my decisions on hold. It's quite frustrating how this reluctance to act can have a more powerful grip than simply moving forward (even if forward is really backwards).

I hope I'm making sense.

I watched Running With Scissors this evening and, as brilliant as this cast is, I don't think the director was able to capture the bizarre magic of the actual memoir. Augusten's story is so unreal, and his prose is better able to transcend the suspense of disbelief than this film.

p.s. I was browsing the wine section today at a local liquor store, and I saw this brand of wine on the shelf...no, I didn't buy it, but I thought it made a clever subject title for tonight.

Rubyrubyrubyrubyrubyrubyrubyrubyrubyrubyrubyrubyrubyrubyrubyrubyrubyrubyrubyrubyruby......

2007-02-22T19:24:00.000-05:00

I'm stuck. I'm so freakin' stuck right now.

Did I mention that I've made a colossal mess of my personal life? Strike that. My latest mess is reaching epic proportions. But you know what? I think I'm going to be okay.

I clashed with my best friend earlier this week...while this incident isn't itself isn't significant to the story, it brought up a lot of hurt feelings that both of us have been holding onto lately, and we need to do something with it. Now we just need to find the time.

[Sidebar: what's hard for me is accepting that our relationship is not equal. I respect that she has a family and her career to also balance...but I think our emotional needs aren't the same. I don't have a family to balance, and I don't have much of an outside life, so if my emotional needs aren't being met, then I'm left feeling empty. I know it isn't fair to foist that all on her, so that's where I struggle. I hold back, but it doesn't make me feel less empty.]

I had that awkward but necessary talk with A...surprisingly he was just as uncomfortable as I felt and we have an understanding about what happened and how neither of us want it to happen again...at least not right now and definitely not under these circumstances. Why does sex have to be so complicated?

But if I were to be truly honest about why I let it happen (or more specifically, why I gave in to the moment so dramatically), it has to do with my conflicted feelings about D. These feelings are unresolved and paired with my emotionally lonely state right now, it should be clear why sex with A was such a desperate move for me.

[Sidebar: A is a pretty intense guy. He's smart and he's passionate, and he makes me feel sexy and desired...but in the end, we both were consumed with our own guilty baggage. A because he wants to stop jumping into relationships with people and start making decisions that consider the feelings of both people, and my guilt was because I knew I was grasping on to something that would fill me for the moment (even if it would leave me feeling empty soon after). I also felt guilty because I know this is about D.]

So maybe it's time to talk about D.

Dating him has been an interesting study of life for me...mine mostly. I've been forced to deal with feelings and emotions and make sense of it all. He's the most open and honest man I've met, and he's incredibly in touch with who he is AND is capable of communicating it.

So it sounds wonderful, yes? But it's terrifying. Throughout our time together, we've both been absolutely clear with each other about where we stand with each other. I know he's dating at least one other person, and he feels conflicted at times. I also know that I'm starting to fall for him and realize that it's not possible to casually date anymore...I want to be open to the risk with him, but I am terrified because I don't think he's ready or wants to be in the same place as me.

There's more to share and I'll have to save it for a later post, but the bottom line is that I've called everyone into question right now--T (best friend), A, and D. I've opened up this can of emotional fear and it's about to get really messy. But I think it will be okay. I really understand that no matter what, this has to happen, otherwise I will stay stuck.

Know Thyself

2007-02-18T21:26:00.000-05:00

I have, once again, made a colossal mess of my personal life, and I struggle to make sense of what happened or why I did it.

Often it feels as if there is another force inside of me fighting against everything I think or feel. Personally, I think it's possible that two sides of my brain are fighting for control, and that's what drives me to do the asinine things I do. I once took a brain dominance test and wouldn't you know that I scored straight down the middle with no tie breaker?? 90% of us are left-brain dominant. Not only do I fall in the 10% minority, but I'm caught exactly in the middle. I am center-brained with no tendency to think toward either side. Out of 50 questions, 17 indicated I'm left brained, 17 indicated I'm right-brained, and 16 indicated I use both hemispheres. Now, that seems odd to me--I think that means I should be more balanced and harmonious and instead, I'm a complicated and kinetic ball of tension that sparks at the slightest touch.

Personally, I also think this explains why I'm such a mess and why I do messy things with my personal life. The logical side has a fairly pointed opinion about how I should live my life, but the emotional side wants me to lead by what I feel. Just when I think I'm on the brink of truly understanding who I am or what I am here to do, I lose touch with my intuition and begin to question what I've done. It seems clear that both sides of my brain are at war with each other to gain control over me. I experience these inner conflicts when one side starts to gain momentum and the other side finds a reserve of strength to pull back. Maybe this is why I get lost and lose my focus easily. I thought it was just ADD, but really it's the divided hemispheres scheming for control. You know, I'm half Yankee and half Confederate too. It's all starting to make sense now. It truly is a battle for the referent, and in this case, the referent to control is me. I wonder if there is a pill I can take to fix this...

Why is it that so many people seem to experience some sort of quasi-crisis in their 30s? Whtat is so special about this age in particular? Everything I seem to read lately suggests that this is a common theme for people my age: Eat-Pray-Love, Sacred Selfishness, watching Britney self-destruct before our mediated eyes...it's all around me and happening to both the famous and obscure. If these quarter-life crises really are that common, this should give me some comfort for my own grief, but it doesn't. I still feel all alone and misunderstood, and I ache for the simpler times of my past when trying to get by in life wasn't so hard.

The common theme seems to be any or all of the following: dissatisfied with accomplishments, faced with a paralyzing depression, and frustrated with a sense or disillusionment...relationships fall apart, careers unravel, and addictive behaviors emerge. What results is usually a transformation of sorts...sometimes through therapy or a stint in rehab, but most often through self-discovery and an awakening to a new level of consciousness. Metaphorically, it's a rebirth...I suppose I could trace this process through each of the stories and discover some sort template for renewal, but I'd rather just hurry up and get to the other side of this change. I don't like it. I wish there were some way I could accelerate my molting body and emerge as a new and improved warrior princess. I think I need another self-help book for that. Self-help ( box 3) is on the horizon...and I'm only 31.

BTW, I had sex with a boy and it was a mistake. I don't even know where to begin.

Too Late For Love...

2007-02-15T19:38:00.000-05:00

I "heart" Def Leppard. (That big 80's rock ballad just picked up rhythm in your mind, didn't it?)

God's been awfully quiet these past few days. He was on a roll with these amazing horoscope insights, but lately these messages have been fairly trite (the kind of trite when someone is trying to hard to be clever) and don't strike me as His style of prose. Take the quickie for today: "Has it ever occurred to you that even if you don't achieve all your goals, you're still better for trying? Compare yourself with people who admit defeat before they even get out of bed in the morning -- you have a lot to be proud of."

Oh, that's rich and raises the bar quite high for me, Little Miss Über-Achiever.

Yes, I do get the subtle hint of the message, and yes, I do realize He could still be speaking to me. Maybe I'm just a little disappointed in it because I'd hoped for something a little more profound...something a little less preachy and a little more practical like a super-natural Power Up! to tackle some of the overdue items on my To-Do List. Maybe then I wouldn't envy those with the courage to stay in bed with the covers over their head.

However, maybe I should consider myself lucky that I've been able to find my medium with Him. I know most people think He's trying to reach us through those kitschy roadside church signs. You know which signs I'm talking about: "7 days without prayer make one weak" (overdone) or my favorite, "Sinners! On your mark, get set, PRAY! (Repent!)" as seen in front of a non-denominational church located near 16th and Georgetown outside of the track in Speedway.

C'mon, these signs aren't a divine punctuation of our false consciousness...they're just manmade, guilt-induced tactics of interpellation. We can be smarter than this. Can't we?

Am I no better with my assumptions that I'm the only Aries on Yahoo! who talks with God? Maybe He isn't really talking to me...maybe I just need to think that He's listening.

This is depressing talk. I wanna go back and live in the 80's when my biggest worries were keeping my hair big, my boombox loud, and my lips shined for the cutest boy in school (I "heart" Billy D. 4-EVER).

Lessons from the 5K

2007-02-14T20:54:00.000-05:00

I had a fantastic race on Saturday. Most people wouldn't think so if they were judging it based upon what you could see on the surface: finished 752 out of 757, I began to cry (in quite the self-releasing sort of way) around mile 1, and it was cold beyond merely uncomfortable.

But I had no one to share my journey with...no one who would/could appreciate what those tears meant to me, or understand why just competing in the race was a major step for me...no one to celebrate with when it was over.

Part of this is my fault: I've locked a lot of people out. I failed to invite any of my friends or family to be a part of this with me, and I am reluctant (and quite resistant) to let anyone see this vulnerable side of why the race scared me. I tried to scratch the surface with D in an email, but it was very frustrating because I still wasn't being honest in what I was saying (or even trying to say). I was still frightened of being judged and scoffed at, and I was afraid he would be quick to dismiss me.

These are my issues. I don't parade them around like some sort of medal of valor, nor do I try to pretend they don't exist. This is what I work through, and this is--above all else--what will either allow me to love again or close off my heart forever. Since I don't want to live a life of isolation, I must cut away this jungle foliage. It's just so hard at times.

Walking is cathartic for me. It is peaceful, serene, and it involves no one but me and my thoughts. I haven't yet learned the art of turning off my mind. This is something I admire about D, but I realize it's something attainable. If I spend time focused on creating a balanced and peaceful life, I can find a way to make my mind stop turning all of the time. I'm just not there yet.

There was/is a risk to dating again. Right now I'm kinda caught up with two guys and I'm so overwhelmed I feel like bailing on them both...which unfortunately means I'm really bailing of myself.

With D, I'm not so sure what our disconnect is...he seems to think it's because we're at different places with our hearts, but I think it has more to do with "clicking" or attraction...I still don't know how to understand him. I know I like him, and I know I'm attracted to him, but I don't like how this makes me feel. Should we let go of this dating thing and just be friends? I'm so confused.

I read something interesting today...perhaps my biggest issue is how I always scurry off to avoid discomfort. Maybe I need to just work through how uncomfortable this makes me feel and, through this I could learn whether we really have potential for something.

And then there is A...I'm too tired to talk about that now, but I will soon.

Zaràfa Pinotage 2005

2007-02-13T15:33:00.000-05:00

God talks to me through the Yahoo! daily horoscopes. Seriously. Some people connect with Him in dreams while He speaks to others through a burning bush (and in extreme cases, through a perceived illegitimate pregnancy). My connection is more subtle and, luckily for me, easy to access. Sometimes these messages don't make sense, but by the end of the day, His meaning seems clear. Other times He's just downright brutal with His honesty, and there is no misunderstanding what He's talking about.

His latest is my "Monthly Romance" in which He doesn't just poke me in the ribs to wake me up, He also slaps me in the face. "It's time for you to really dig down deep and take a long, hard look at what you're doing romantically. Are you really, really trying? Why aren't you trying? Are you afraid? Of what?"

I know God talks to me through Yahoo! horoscopes because I talk to Him through prayer, and since He can't actually speak to me in the tangible way we talk to each other in our conscious world, He must use esoteric means...although I can be a little obtuse sometimes, so I think He's using the Yahoo! horoscope medium as a way to get my attention.

Consider my latest issue...I joined eHarmony and before actually meeting a few guys in person, I had a blast with the email exchange. Of the guys I met, I kinda fell for one and was trying to be open to letting another one inside of my heart. Of the few times before in which I tried online dating, I prepped myself to make the effort to REALLY be open this time instead of just window shopping for love (which I'm inclined to do in my commitment phobe kind of way).

I prayed about it...you really have no idea how much of an emotional mess I can be about these things. I have a tendency to bail at the slightest sign of rejection or disinterest, and it was a real struggle not to behave the same way this time. I prayed that He would give me the strength to stick this out and see any issue through to the end. I prayed that He would open my heart to love, or at least help ME open my heart (I get confused whether we're supposed to ask God to help us or if He prefers to help those who help themselves). I prayed for insight when these boys confused me. And, above all else, I prayed that I could just get over myself and find a way out of this self-imposed miserable prison I erected around my heart so long ago when a silly boy broke my heart.

And like I said, He responded to me. It took me a while to figure it out, but when I realized He was using Yahoo! horoscopes to open my eyes to the ways of living, I became a daily reader of this wisdom and insight.

This month He's asking if I'm really trying. I thought I was, I really did. But now I realize that I'm still the scared, insecure broken girl I've always been, and even though I tried to resist my own dysfunctional ways in the most valiant of efforts, I still failed to really, and I mean really, try to open my heart to love. I still wanted it on my terms and exposed in a visible way that I could deal with. I wasn't prepared for these guys having their own feelings and their own ways of dealing with their broken hearts. And I'm still very much afraid. That is the key to this mess for me.

Dr. Phil (yes I read Dr. Phil) says there are two kinds of desperate women--those who are desperate to find a man and those who are desperate to avoid getting hurt. Ouch. His words made me realize that I fall into that latter category and, despite all of my prior protests otherwise, I am indeed a DESPERATE WOMAN. So when God asks, "Are you really, really trying?" Shamefully and regrettably, I must admit that no, I am not really trying. At least not yet.

What will I give up for love? I have no idea anymore. If it's not fear, then what is it?

I've Been Hailed

2007-02-12T20:39:00.000-05:00

I received a speeding ticket Saturday. It's all part of some silly little campaign called "Keep It 55" and somehow I was hailed above all others. Lucky me.

First, let me clear: I do not admit to speeding. In fact, I was rather shocked to be pulled over in the first place. The officer was not stopped along the side of the road with a radar gun, and he used his own odometer to register what he believes was my speed at that time. When I first saw his vehicle, I thought he needed to get through traffic, and it was rather congested on the freeway, so I was trying to gain clearance from the cars in the other lane to move over, and perhaps I was traveling in excess of the limit, but my focus of the moment was not so much to watch my speed as it was to clear the fast lane for his vehicle to pass.

Second, I could have been in a lot more trouble than what I received. I am in the process of changing my car registration from another state and, although I have a temporary permit from this state to cover me during this transition, I'm technically in limbo between states. What's preventing me from being firmly registered in this state? Well, that leads me to my third point which is I cannot locate my proof of insurance. Now, I know I'm covered. There is a receipt of payment that proves I'm covered...but that little card they give you for situations just like this? Yeah, I cannot find that little card, and the State of Indiana says I cannot obtain my new registration without that little card. See how this silly game works?

I've always just paid my tickets and moved on (literally...I seem to move to another state soon after so these have yet to catch up on my insurance), but $150 is soooooooo much, I'm thinking about fighting it this time. Perhaps I'm tempting fate though? Given my questionable state right now without my official state registration? Hmmmmm.

I may have been hailed, but I do not have to succomb to "so be it."

The Butterfly Effect

2007-02-11T18:11:00.000-05:00

There is a point to keeping a blog, yes? And even if no one other than me ever reads it...the point is to update on a somewhat consistent basis (otherwise what counts as a "log"?)...so hard.

In the past 4 months, I've managed to commit/accomplish the following:

1. join eHarmony
2. register (and begin training) for the mini-marathon
3. ponder the meaning of MY life
4. keep my job

I am a self-proclaimed commitment phobe. With respect to people and relationships, I am the most loyal and accountable person on this planet. However, when it pertains to committing to myself, I have issues. Car financing, apartment leases, cellphone contracts, and any kind of subscription (magazine, online dating sites, academic affiliations) or registration (voter, car, insurance) all make me anxious. I've been known to live in one state, hold a license in another, have my car registered in a 3rd, and hold storage facilities in two locations (neither in the state in which I live).

I've made great strides over the past year. I now live, vote, and legally operate a vehicle all within the same state, I'm working to transfer my car registration, and I've closed and relocated one of my storage facilities. I'm slowly but steadily making Indiana my permanent home.

So in this short time, I did join and actively participate in the eHarmony dating site. I've also recently cancelled my subscription while I rethink my dating priorities. What's that diamond commercial? "How else can 3 months' salary last forever?" During my 3 months with eHarmony, I began to rethink what it is that I want to count as "forever."

There is a whole diatribe about me and what I want for love, and what it will take for me to be open to love (I haven't forgotten that I still haven't answered what it is I will give up for love)...but I'll save that for another post when I talk about how I'm conflicted over myself plus two different boys.

But that should give a glimpse of how I've been spending my time--obsessing and dating--what a dangerous cocktail for love.

As if I didn't have enough going on, I've also added a training regimen to my activities so I can be prepared for the mini-marathon in May. I've kept it up for over a month now, so that should count toward my new attitude about commitments. [Disappointingly, I haven't lost any weight despite all of this added exercise...I fear I need to give up alcohol if I want to see a difference in my body. How sad--on a cold winter night, yes indeed, a bottle of red wine CAN keep me warm...so now I'll have no man and no bottle.]

Back to the unaswered question of what will I give up for love...I think I'm closer to knowing what it is. No, it's not wine, and it's not my space. It's my fear. What's difficult is that although I know what it is that I must give up, I am nowhere close to knowing how to do this. So, what will I give up for love? I will have to give up the comfort I receive from being afraid of getting hurt. I must let go of my fear, as it is holding a deathgrip around the latch to my heart. In the name of Protection and in the spirit of Perservation, my fear keeps me safe from pain. But my fear is not good for me, and it is smothering me to death.

I just need to figure out how I can let go.

How to Give Your Cat a Pill

2006-10-28T21:29:00.000-04:00

To recap my last 7 days:

I reclaimed my love with Blue Moon.
My cat (Chloe) has acne.
My job is on the brink of kicking my ass.
I locked my best friend’s 3 year old in the car requiring both the local sheriff and a fire brigade to rescue him.
I suffered through a mild bout of food poisoning brought about by my own cooking.

Pretty eventful, don’t you think? But poor Miss Chloe. My neighbors below have crazy animals, so I blame them for why Chlo-Chlo has fleas. I’ve treated her twice, washed all linens and clothing she’s touched or could have possibly touched, and vacuumed every single day, but she’s still infested. Dr. Lisa gave me a prescription for some good flea medication, and then she discovered that kitty has acne. Acne? On a cat? I paid $15 for animal-friendly Clearasil.

Oh, and while this is the first time I ever locked keys inside a car (and did it spectacularly by locking Little Man inside as well), it is not the first time my cooking has made me sick.

The Third Persona

2006-10-08T23:19:00.000-04:00

Who is the third persona? There is a whole who’s on first, what’s on second kind of discourse exchange trying to answer that question. But for those who are already confused, that debate is safely tucked away in Academia, so no worries I’d expect you to untangle that now.

I ask this because I used to journal with some sort of assumed third persona in mind—the assumption that this über-personality was always both anxiously awaiting for whatever I’d write and also ready to pounce and critique. But now I realize that I’ve invested too much power into this persona. And so I return to my original question: who is this third persona?

Since I don’t know (and since I’m trying to liberate myself from trying to astonish and please this unknown entity), maybe I can just try to do what I wanted to do along: write. Articulate my thoughts. Make sense of what plagues me.

Back when I was trying to please this third persona, I’d write about my longing for a boy…over time the boy would change, but the point of my misery was always the same. I was caught up in the longing for him to love me, for me to have a chance to love him (rather that long to love him)…but I think what I longed more than love was an escape from the loneliness I constantly feel.

The problem with my writing, though, was how I tried to frame precisely how I felt through a vision of how I wanted to feel. This search for the perfect articulation led to imperfect writing. My feelings were always the same (even though I failed to realize that I was capturing them incorrectly), but when I returned to my writing at a later date (which is the point of keeping a journal), my chronicled thoughts didn’t strike me as actual reflections of those moments in time. How come I was so insistent on capturing what I wanted to feel that I failed to preserve how I felt at that moment? Isn’t that the point? I think it was because I was trying to please this phantom persona.

Let’s speed up to today. I’m still alone, I’m still not happy about it, and I’m still trying to focus on how I want to feel rather than how I feel right now. Now, I accept there is always a third persona tied to the “who” for which we write, but I’m no longer caught up in trying to please this character. So why hasn’t my writing improved? As I reflect on that, I realize that it’s because of what I’m afraid to admit: that I’ve created my misery.

I don’t think it’s unreasonable to wish for love, and I don’t think it’s out of line to seek out that which will make me happy with life. But I do think it’s important that I understand what is in my way and to reasonably assess what I can do about it.

This entire preamble is to set up the next big question for me to ponder. I’m going to take some time to think about it, but I think it’s important enough to pose for anyone else to consider as well (including that elusive third persona, although that defeats the whole figment of who the third persona is).

What will I give up in order to love someone? What will you?

Creekbend Reserve 2005

2006-07-31T23:03:00.000-04:00

I have some funny stories that if I ever finish writing them (or if the inspiration to find the humor strikes me again) will be great stories to post. But since I’m not so humorous lately, I suppose I will use this as a ranting tool by default. I’m sure witty essays would be preferred, but my self-imposed exile from the world is about to suffocate me, so I need a creative outlet to express my great dissatisfaction with Life.

Fatigue has ravished my body and soul. Seriously. I’m so tired of being tired. When I’m not working or sleeping or passed out from it all, my overactive mind begins to wander. When I spend any time at all thinking of the state of my personal life, I get depressed. I’m not eating healthy, staying active, getting a good night’s rest, or engaging socially with others. I’ve become so comforted by my own seclusion, I’m borderline recluse. I keep my ringer off so I don’t have to hear my phone, and I rarely return missed calls. One day I will wake up from this sleepy state and realize my friends have left me behind. But knowing this can happen still doesn’t motivate me to change these isolating habits. So I try not to think about the state of my personal life as much as possible.

However, I cannot ignore the fact that my clothes have shrunk and I do not have the resources to invest in a whole new wardrobe. Therefore, I’m starting to pay attention to my nutrition (and at least consider the possibility of physical activity). I’ve adopted a new diet—the Mediterranean Diet—selected primarily because it advocates a daily allotment of wine. [Sidebar 1: I also read an article in WedMD that suggests two glasses of red wine pack 7 grams of fiber…pretty cool, eh?]

I’ve read several different articles about this diet and, while wine (in moderation) is advocated, it’s not conclusive if it’s considered a fruit. Most stipulate a one-glass-daily rule for women and up to two glasses daily for men. I’ve decided that since I weigh about the same as the average linebacker then the two glass rule applies to me. Still no consensus for red or white wine, but I’m trying to plan my diet around red since it packs the highest fiber content.

But this misery is systemic. I do my best to avoid the realization that I have a pathetic life by numbing my nerves with alcohol in the evening and throwing my self into my new job. This is necessary since (1) I still don’t know what my specific job role is, (2) there is a constant threat of head-count reduction within my division, and (3) no job = no money = homelessness is a bigger misery than I think I have now. [Sidebar 2: before the new diet, nightly alcohol intake may have been perceived as borderline alcohol abuse, but now it’s healthy and part of my daily nutrition. That’s the best thing about American medicine, I think.]

Why does my job make me miserable, you ask? Several reasons really: (1) my best friend is a manager of an adversarial division within my company, (2) my boss drives me mad, (3) my coworkers are out to get me, and (4) I could be fired any day.

But enough about this miserable mess today. The wine has finally kicked in and drowsiness is seeping into my bones…

Blind Date Humiliation (take two)

2006-07-10T22:14:00.000-04:00

Saturday put my ego into check. I was stood up at Starbucks by a First Date. Seriously.

The events that followed: spent the next hour in mind-numbing shock that someone thought so poorly of me (or himself) to behave that way; gave myself a pep talk about the truth of his cowardice; spent the next 5 hours at work trying to hammer out spreadsheet, but instead got caught up in other distractions, such as (1) email FD about my disappointment in him (done in the name of closure, but I suppose it was more for my need to have the last word), (2) email my online-dating-partner-in-crime to announce I am never doing this again, (3) obsessively check my email account every 75 seconds to see if FD dares send me a response, and (4) tear up (tearing up is NOT crying...anyone who cannot even share 10 minutes with another person and a cup of coffee is not worth the spilling of tears). Once I surrendered to my ADD/OCD/SAD, I did manage to crank out some productive work on the spreadsheet (if I cannot find eternal bliss with dating, I can at least become The Workaholic).

So despite my pep talk (and positive reinforcement by my truest of friends), I still felt rotten. Sunday was also strange (more on that later), and that small nagging voice in the back of my mind (what’s wrong with me???) kept getting louder. So I googled "blind date humiliation" and I found a blogger who shared his blind story humiliation, thus stirring up the troubled dating pasts of those in his online community. A summary of their fantastic stories:

1. the Jewish guy set up with the Goth/Rocker Girl with pink spiky hair who ate with her hands and feet

2. the guy set up by his ex-girlfriend with the Girl Who Shouted...who declared to the world (without her inside voice) he was an excellent kisser and then mounted him at a local bar

3. the guy who brought his own chopsticks to an Indian restaurant

4. the guy who was robbed by a gang of bandits with weapons, stripped of his clothes and shoes, and then turned away from help by the girl’s family…upon returning home, he discovers 10 missed calls and a voicemail from her telling him she’s no longer interested in meeting (this story, above all, is my favorite!)

5. the woman who met a man at a restaurant who immediately excused himself to make a phone call and then never returned

6. the Jewish girl on a date with a blonde, blue-eyed white boy…while waxing poetically about her trip to Israel discovers he is part Arab and grew up outside of Jerusalem as a child

7. the woman whose JDate guy discussed his mixed feelings about his uncircumcised, um, member over vintage wine and upscale dining

8. the teenage girl who ditched her blind date at the mall leaving him without a ride only to run into him 2 years later and for him to display the scar from the knife attack he endured while walking home from the mall that day

9. the money hungry mom who brought her sons with her to the baseball game

10. Mr. Obvious from Boston who talked about that which we don’t speak of and failed to acknowledge that which we excuse ourselves from

Ahhh, and herein lies the rub…there is always someone else out there who has it worse off than you. My pithy tale of humiliation: he planned a fantastic (and creative) date for us, but I pressed for a pre-meeting to take the edge off our initial encounter which would allow us surrender ourselves to the fun of the date (hopefully). The pre-meeting at Starbucks failed to materialize because after he arrived and made eye contact, he chose to pretend he was someone else. Seriously. I called out his name and he said he was sorry, I was mistaken. I concur: he is a sorry motherfucker and, clearly, I was mistaken…although I wasn’t mistaken about the need to meet at Starbucks first.

Sadly, those of us who still feel the need for the last word will always get it because we’ll be all alone…with our words.