Let's Not... And Say We Did

I've been thinking about writing, only because the act of actually writing seems so.... difficult.

I can't make myself pick a topic and commit to writing about it.

Changing that now.

I will write about my looming (yeah) trip to see MKSA.

Suddenly, it has now dawned on me that my trip is in 21 days (holy crap) and I will flying across the country near the 10 year memorial (anniversary?) of NINE-ELEVEN (dundundun). Either I am a total genius (lighting never strikes the same place twice) or a total idiot (because, um, yeah... totally a national tragedy).

This is also bringing on a fresh bout of 'fear' of airport security.

I am convinced that I will strip-searched, in public... or worse, private. SO, you can bet your ass I am taking minimal stuff with you and it will be expertly packed to avoid this potential situation. Now, you are probably rolling your eyes and saying AE, you don't look like a terrorist. WELL, dear readers, YOU are right. I am not. But apparently 6 year-olds and grandmas do not pass the test, ergo, I assume that my tattoos and piercings SKYROCKET me to the top of the ol' watch list.

I am probably being a bit dramatic... A lot dramatic.

But moving on.

Aside from normal paranoia about missing connecting flights, delays, and lost baggage... I should be fine.

But wait....

THERE IS MORE (isn't there always?)

I am convinced (ok, not totally, but enough to be worried) that MKSA will see me again for the first time in years (since 2007ish) and instantly regret me showing up, baggage in hand (hopefully).

He assures me this wont happen... I remember that ANYTHING is possible, even if it is not that likely. This is also, at the same time calling into question my feelings about MKSA. Yeah... all those feelings once boxed up, and put away deep deep in my heart... now, much much much closer to the surface.

Now, maybe I am worrying for no reason (likely) but regardless... I can't stop my mind from going there. I am on an SSS (Self-imposed Single Sabbatical).

So... Here I am... Wondering if I made the best decision booking this trip all those months ago.

NOW... This is where I nay-say all the thoughts I've been having. Like, how regardless of how this trip goes, I am doing something I love (traveling) and going somewhere I have never been. I see this as an adventure (of sorts): like, if this turns out to be a disaster, I'm booking myself a luxe room and renting a car and I'm going to enjoy being alone. I'll take amazing pictures, eat great food, blow all my money.... OR if it goes great, and we fall back in love and want some kind of happily ever after (can't help being the sap romantic that I am deep down under all the cynicism), well, dammit, I will have my happy ending (hahaha).

So maybe I shouldn't get so worked up. I mean, I can clearly see the two obvious ways this could go... But here is the tricky bit... What about the ending that I actually want? What about what I would like to see happen....

Ohhh, yeah....

This is why I have developed such trepidation. Because I can start to identify what I would like to have happen. And oh, sure, I am sure MKSA could weigh in on this... BUT this is about me. At least the writing.

I probably should be having this as a conversation with either my girlfriends or MKSA. I should probaly voice these 'fears' and possibly let people talk me down from the proverbial ledge that I am so delicately perched. But keeping it inside, means it isn't real. It means it is just in my head, and the little said about it will keep it as good as it is (or isn't) in my head.

It is a problem I have always had.

I am so rarely in the moment.

Even in most pictures, there is a look on my face that say whatever I am feeling is forced.

It is because I have to break it down. I have to remind myself that whatever is happening is 'fun' not 'painfully awkward' and to remove that look from my face. OR I catch myself caught up in the irritants of the memory... like I don't remember the party, but I remember some bitch ruining my shoes or spilling my drink.... I don't remember the 'fun' I was supposed to be having.

This is probably the big fear.

I literally fear that I will be so in my head analyzing the trip, and analyzing what is going on with MKSA and I that I wont enjoy the damn trip, or our time together.

(that is really sad, I am pretty sure you are about to tell me to pull my head out of my ass, get my shit together and live my life, not analyze it).

This is my attempt to remedy that. Right here. Right now.

I, AE, vow to enjoy my g.d. vacation to the fullest. Come hell, high water, or terrorist attack. I will embrace the change, challenges, good and bad that come with this trip. I will also FORCE myself to BE IN THE MOMENT for the entirety of my trip (save for travel times-- plane, train, car only).

There you have it.

In print.

For all the world to see. My promise to myself to do this trip right (and justice).

Deep down, I clearly do not want this to be a "lets not and say we did" situation. AT ALL. I feel way to strongly going in... and definitely will on the way out.

How To "Get With" Me

I don't think it is fair to make guys figure me out... I mean seriously, we as girls expect boys (the same ones that threw dirt at us and pulled our hair) to figure us out. I think I'd have an easier time collecting Dodo feathers.

So here ya go boys (I know a few of you read this) a "road map" to me.

1. DO NOT ever (ever!) whistle at me in a bookstore. Do it once, it is a little flattering but weird. Twice is both creepy and irritating. And how you didn't see me flipping you the bird with my hand just above my ass (which is probably whistling in the first place) and decided to whistle a 3rd time... you are an idiot, and ergo, not my type.

2. DO spend time with me. It is not a joke when I say I am perfectly happy with a case of beer and the Sopranos. That sounds like a good night to me. Will it do every night? No. Will it do for most, yes!

3. DO feed me. I like to eat. I like food. This is not complicated. DO NOT however, force feed me things I do not like (i.e. tomatoes) but DO get me to try new food (i.e. Sushi, Indian).

4. DO NOT see other girls while seeing me, I do not like to share.... I assume you don't either. And if you do, you're not my type.

5. DO NOT buy me useless shit. Yes, bonus gifts are nice. Esp if it is because you are super sweet like that and feel like buying me things. I truly only expect a gift on my birthday, Valentine's Day and Christmas. Handmade gifts are best, food second and everything else third. Triple word score if you can make an entire meal (aps through dessert) for me as a gift.

6. I like my alone time, give it to me.

7. I like my quiet time, give it to me.

8. Enjoy crap movies with me.

9. Take in the occasional artistic endeavor with me. Join me on a photo trip, go with me to a museum, go with me to a weird art-house movie.

10. DO NOT be generic.

So maybe this isn't detailed. Maybe it comes across as demanding... which, it might be if you are not a creative, caring, interesting and into me.

Did you really think I would tell anyone how to "get with" me?? Is that what I do here?? NO.

Why did I even attempt this?

Because I found the list of things my Ex's have called me.

And the word DEMANDING was on there. I feel this is there the same reason all guy's Ex's generally fall into the "psycho-bitch" category (when it is entirely possible that person is not a psycho, yet possibly a bitch).

I sat back and I thought "Am I demanding?"

I generalized that I could be, at times, when I feel like my needs are not being met.

I am a "totally" demanding woman in a relationship.

I am sure my no cheating on me policy lands me in that demanding category too.

But most of this is a joke.

True, I have a few demands in a relationship... But nothing that NOT EVERY SINGLE GIRL EVER HASN'T WANTED.

Quality time. Respect. Honesty. Affection. Attention. Support. To name a few.

So, I have this to say. To the boys I've dated, you wont find another who was as laidback and as "ok" with your bad behavior as I was. Which, by now, I hope you know doesn't make it right. I like knowing that some day my name will flit across your radar when you are wondering why the hell your girlfriend/wife/partner is nagging you about something and you remember... "oh yeah, she didn't nag" and you'll remember all the names you called me in the heat of youthful dramatics that come with the territory. And you'll remember that's why I've denied your facebook requests since, ignored your emails, blocked your numbers, moved away, moved on and forgot all about you.

Arms

I haven't had a spare moment to write.

Seriously, between 60 hour weeks at work and a strong desire to sleep...

Regardless, just because I haven't been writing doesn't mean I haven't been observing (which I always do... I am only missing the tiny notebook to jot said observations down a la Jane Goodall).

Observations

* you can tell a lot about a guy from his arms

* you can tell a lot about a couple by what they do with their arms

Think about it... A guy with decently toned arms either a) works out (like a normal person) b) has a job that requires heavy lifting or c) jerks off waaaaay too much.

Option A means he is a total meat head... a potentially buff even sexy meathead. Option B is most desirable, he has a job. And Option C is well... TMI

So why do arms matter?

Maybe they don't, but they do to me. I find myself much more interested in a guys arms. Sure, there is something to be said about eyes (the windows to the soul or some shit), a slow smile and good hair. But really, arms and hands are my thing.

Part of it is because at the end of a hellish day, I want a strong pair to fall into. And all too often in my past, the arms I was falling into didn't catch me, or were too feeble to catch me.

Also, arms tell a story... one mapped out by veins, bruises, scars and (hopefully) tattoos.

Same goes for hands. They tell a story. And when a guys calluses come from playing guitar (or bass, or drums or the didgeridoo), it is not enough. And what girl wants feminine girly-man hands on her... no. Not this girl.

No I want strong arms and semi-rough hands. the kind that mirror hard work.

I spend all day dressing guys (helloooo retail). And occasionally I get the pleasure of feeling an arm or touching a hand (I have touched Justin Beiber's hand, twice.). And yeah... there are a few too many girly men out there.

Emotional Real Estate

I used to think a guy saying he is "Emotionally Unavailable" was a total line... now, I don't doubt that it totally is. I also, however, actually understand that statement.

And I am not using it as a line.

I was recently asked out by a kid (I say kid because he is younger than I am, and anyone younger than me is considered a kid). And, just that look on his face as he is talking to me, and his body language... It is all screaming "I am so into you."

I hate venturing into a situation where one person is much much more into the other than the other person.

Anyway, this kid... he is all wide eye'd and eager to take me out... with all the cuteness and charm that comes with a Irish Setter Puppy (a well trained one).

And I can't help but look at him and see.... nothing.

I see nothing with him, I feel nothing for him. Nothing meaning deep feelings of attraction or whatever. I do however feel extremely flattered that he is just that into me. But that is it.

I feel like I need to make him sign a release form before going out with me.

Something to free me of any guilt/liability that may cause this youngsters heart to break.

Or at least a month to month agreement that nothing is my fault and that he has willing ventured into the arduous task of attempting to try and take me out on a date.

Yes, month to month, I haven't said yes.

It is situations like this that I realize I am not a starter kit.

I am not for the unskilled hands of hapless beginners.

I have been through some shit, and at times, it shows.

Newbs don't know what to do with that.

It's not like there is a support group for guys dating damaged goods girls (IDEA!!!).

hahaha, "Hi my name is _____, and I am dating a DGG"

Maybe, I am just worried because I am a mostly nice person (when I want to be) who doesn't like to inflict (undue) pain on anyone.

Or could it be that I am just feeling the affect of having my heart pulled from someone so far away from me that it doesn't feel real, and I am just comparing this to a random act of interest (which is better than a random act of kindness).

And who knows, maybe a date wouldn't be such a bad thing. I maintain with my circle of gf's that a "girl's gotta eat, girl's gotta drink" mentality-- I never said I was good about taking my own advice. And it could be fun, or at least interesting.

But there is a huge part of me that is saying don't waste your time. You know you don't want this. Oh and you are totally into someone else somewhere else.

So now what... I sit here, over my Ghengis Grill concoction thinking it over.

I don't have an answer.

Becuase I realize my answer depends on others.

Can I hinge my heart (again) on something I cannot tell (as of yet) is real (or not)? Can I spend time with someone only to potentially hurt them in the end?

Ugh. Such is the plight of the seemingly single gal.

I am sure the answer is much more simple than where I am looking.

Because the Devil is always in the details.

Fits and Starts and an Accidental Recipe for Success

I have a problem with follow through sometimes. I mean, I have a short list of projects to start or are half started. Like, the table I have that I want to tile the top of with a mosaic. Or the pile of prints I've done that STILL need frames...

But, readers, my lack of craftsmanship is not the topic here. The first is the "fits and starts."

I feel like I am always starting something, that eventually fizzles out and then I have to start again... Photography, an on going hobby/venture of mine. I pick up my camera for a bout a week a month now... When I used to have it glued to my hands. Have my interests changed? No. What I really feel is a lack of inspiration. I'm used to operating (and an artistic sense) from a place of pain/hurt/anger. And now... I have a lack of those things (not complaining), so how do I operate from a place of stability with no emotional extremes? Yeah, I have no idea either. I feel it actually shows in the work. I mean, the pictures I've taken have come out flat, dull and pretty uninteresting. Which is kinda how my life is right now... it really has the personality of a Malto-Meal . Before you add the peanut butter/brown sugar/etc.

Only recently have I been able to write.

And it is not filled with passion or rage or what-have-you, but rather delicate reflective observations from my vantage point.

Which, I can say, I have not had this level of clarity in my writing in a long time. So many times the writing has had an emotional edge and urgency to it. Now, not so much.

I take it back.

It did.

Until I head this song, Since You're Gone by The Pretty Reckless.

The lead songstress wails about not that you're gone her life has moved along. And all the "awesome" shit that has gone down since.

NOW.

I like to think that everyone who crosses your life path has done so for a reason... I mean there is a reason I still have the business card for Christina the Aura Reader... and haven't used it yet. I never really felt like people in your life were proverbial roadblocks to success... until now.

I mean, in the last 6-7 months I have had a LOT of success.

Quick recap.

MY SUCCESSES

1. Trip to California to see best friend
2. Interview at current company home office for major job
3. Interim promotion at work for almost 3 months (april till june)
4. Promotion at work (official)
5. Raise at work
6. Loss of 15 pounds (yay! back to college weight)
7. Loss of 2-3 pant/dress sizes (back to college size)
8. Point person for Q&A for work colleagues
9. Gaining of friends
10. Trip to see MKSA in September

Yeah... I'll agree since you've been gone my life has moved along quite nicely.

I will take a nano second to gloat.

I have no proof this amount of success is one sided. In fact, maybe his life has moved along nicely as well... maybe he has found a nice girl that meets all his needs and blah blah blah blah....

Yeah. This isn't about him.

It's about me.

NOW, maybe you're asking yourself, how you too can be this successful in your life.

The answer is I don't know.

I mean, here is what I did:

1. Have a massive heart-break
2. Partially heal
3. Go back to said heart-breaker
4. Hit emotional rock bottom
5. take a vacation and have total emotional makeover due to supportive friends
6. come back from vaca ready to take on the world
7. find out you're in charge at work (indefinitely)
8. have daily panic attacks
9. be too tired-sleep-deprived-exhausted to eat
10. do month long intensive Bikram yoga program that starts a bodily make over that instantly stopped all craving for fast food and sugar but brought cravings of water. just water.
11. Drink gallons of water daily
12. get promoted at work to where you are at stress level that eliminates sleep, and ability to eat because you don't have time or are too tired
13. wake up one day and realize all your clothes are too big

TADA!!!!

NOW... I do not recommend this method, I am not a doctor, but I am pretty sure this is NOT HEALTHY.

So yeah.

I'm happier than I have been in a long time and skinnier than I have been since... Oh, I don't know, 2007?!

So, in summation:

It doesn't matter what you do or don't start (or finish) things will eventually move in and out of the way for you to get the success you have worked your fucking ass of for.

Totally motivational, right?

Back to Basics

I guess I need to re-explain myself here...

This blog, this little bit o' web-space, is about ME. There is a reason I have been calling this SELFISH HELP from the beginning. It is about me. The one place I make exclusively about me. I have had some interesting comments and emails about this site, none interesting enough to quote, but not everyone is the wordsmith that I am.

So, once again, let me re-state, THIS IS SELFISH HELP. I admit, I took a break from my emotional rehab to bitch about work and then wax poetically about MKSA. But that is not what the blog is about, and I migrated away from the original point. And for that, loyal readers, I apologize.

I will not, however, apologize for what I have written already.

I carefully (most of the time) construct every blog to be a direct reflection of my emotional state. I won't apologize for feelings I've hurt along the way, because odds are if you are a reader-- and you feel like you've had your feelings "hurt" by these words then step back and think if you hurt MY feelings somewhere down the line. Then get back to me. And if, it turns out by some freakish act of the powers that be that you haven't hurt me... then I will craft you an apology LETTER (with a stamp) so amazing that even Ms. Emily Post would be impressed.

NOW, there, that's over.

I can get back to what I wanted to say from the beginning.

Back to Basics (as the title would suggest), is exactly what I am trying to do.

I got an amazing promotion at work, so that really takes part of load of my shoulders but adds another. And I actually found something that resembles a relationship, even if it is not the most traditional.

What does that mean? Well, kiddos. It means.... yeah, I don't know, exactly. It means regular and open communication with another person (yes, a dude) with amorous tones and subtext. Something I have not had in a very long time... that wasn't with out conditions and a ton of strings attached. This, lacks obligation... rather we feel we owe it to one another (another first), and owe out of respect and mutual feeling instead of... payment? fear? commitment? or any of the zillion other reasons people will sometimes ineffectually throw themselves together.

But again, that's not basic... that's some advanced level shit.

Basics. Why is it seems the basics are so hard to master... women understand, the fundamentals of perfectly functional yet versatile wardrobe are damn near impossible to find... seriously, the little black dress, the perfect black pump, the perfect pair of non-schlumpy jeans.

I am finding the same thing true in relationships.

Maybe it is the years of disastrous relationships I have willingly (and not so willingly in some cases) have put myself through. But I know I will never be that open-hearted-hang-on-every-word in love girl that I once was. And I suppose that is something you are eventually "supposed" to grow out of. Is it wrong that I didn't want to?

Is it wrong that I really really do not care of the varying levels of hell various ex's have put me through, and I have been working really really hard to undo their work? I really don't think so.

I really think that you should not place your baggage on a new flame... But how do you not? How do you not keep your guard up and eyes peeled for all those red flags you missed before. Truthfully, before now I would have said I don't think you can. But, now, I think with enough time and healing (healing most importantly) you can. True, it wont ever be perfect. I mean, sure, bells and whistles will still go off if he doesn't come home, and certain phrases will make ice course through your veins....

That's WHY I started this blog.

I wanted to get myself back.

I had given so much away to sooooooooo many liars/cheaters/bums/losers/creeps/jerks/fuckwits. That I really didn't know what was going on with me anymore. I was a mess of manifested insecurities (some original, mostly minted from relationships past). And this last heartbreak did me in. It literally broke me (a credit I do not want to give that guy, he doesn't deserve it-- I always figured the breaking would be done by a much stronger man). But here I am, 6-7 months past that, pretty much feeling better than ever. I wont lie, and say I never think about these men (which NONE of them deserve to be called, boys possibly guys/dudes at best). I do, and never fondly.

Some people think I started this to get even with a guy.

Honestly, yeah, a tiny vengeful part of me wanted to blog him into internet oblivion (or submission). And I didn't. I instead, put myself out there knowing people could identify with me, and my side.

Because deep down (with all of these guys) once there was a time when I could say I was your friend and you were mine. But that is history. That is something we both know we won't get back. And I know I'll never know the reason why you thought

That you could hang me out to dry for everyone to see, make a fool out of me, ruin me, degrade me, screw me (or not)...Did you think that I'd really just lay down and take it? That some how no damage was inflicted?
Fuck that. I mean, really... all of these guys had me apologizing for everything, sometimes my own presence in the the fucking room. And congrats to them, for being able to get out with no damage done. And many have moved along. It just, to me seems unfair that in the long run, I am still here feeling the effects (and not in a good way).

This is where it evens out, I know (hope/pray) that they get their due. And I know it wont be by my hand.

This could have been forum for me to air out each and every single one of there secrets, lies, and misdeeds. Which, would work in favor of any new women in their lives that wanted to Google them. But I didn't.

OH sure, I used some initials... but it's not like I linked their Facebooks to the page (another move I contemplated and rejected after .238 seconds).

So word to the wise (and the not so wise) just because I play nice (nice-er) doesn't mean every girl will. And if fan clubs in your honor pop up on various social networking sites because of all the other shit you all have done to other women.... I can neither confirm nor deny that I would lobby for an admin position... possibly anonymously.

Head Space

I've been counting down the days till my vacation to see MKSA (My Knight in Shining Armor).

It is 70 days as of tomorrow.

Good news is, June flew by, bad news... 70 days seems like, oh, I don't know, a third of a year??

I mean, here it is on a Friday night and I have been powering away on work stuff (since like 830pm), because I have no life (at least not social). While everyone else I know is out doing whatever it is people do on a Friday night.

But you know, I don't care.

I mean, I do... in a way. But I don't.

There are a few people (BFFFE and MKSA) that I want to spend my limited time off with... and well, they live on opposite coasts from me and I split the difference between them.

That is why, I don't really care that I am posted up in a both at Denny's killing some scheds for work instead of going out with friends as a pre-party for the Fourth of July.

Ok... so maybe I could have used a beer to do this.

But instead I have like an hour long phone chat with MKSA.

That makes me feel better then most beers could.

That is all beside the point. Moving on.

Last post, I talked about the start of MKSA and I. I, in theory, should be telling you about the middle. But instead, I'd rather talk about the music.

I know a lot of people associate music with a memory... well, consider the discography of the middle of our relationship:

Delicious Tunes for the Middle of the Relationship

Regina Spector, Begin to Hope: "Fidelity" "Samson"

The Sounds, Dying to Say this to You

Morningwood, Morningwood: "Take Off Your Clothes"

Kings of Leon: Aha Shake Heartbreak: "Milk" "King of the Rodeo" "Taper Jean Girl"

Leona Naes: I Tried to Rock You...: "Blue Eyed Baby"

The Cars: "Just What I Needed" "Dangerous Type"

The Killers: Previous Age "Bones"

The Killers: Sam's Town "When You Were Young"

Fall Out Boy: Infinity on High "America's Suitehearts" "Sugar We're Going Down Swinging"

My music tastes have changed... a little. Heh. But ALL of these are still in my iPod on heavy rotation. And I dig it.

It gives (gave) me a chance to think about MKSA a little bit everyday.