Loud and Clear

Messages come in the strangest ways. They say God first speaks to you in whispers and yesterday, I'd say it was in bullhorns. I decided to turn on the tv while I was getting ready and flipping the channels, I caught the very beginning of Xanadu. It was the opening scene with the main character, the Andy Gibb lookalike dude, struggling with a sketch. I know that feeling, when I'm ready to sit down and write my masterpiece novel. What the heck do I say? But I was so excited to have the movie on. I love that movie and while I knew I would have a long day on the road, I decided not to leave until the movie was over.

It's about a struggling, yet talented artist who decides to pursue his dreams pursuing his own art, only to discover his lack of inspiration, and thus lack of income, so he goes back to the job he sorely dislikes. But then both inspiration and opportunity come to him, in the form of Olivia Newton-John as a muse and Gene Kelly as his business partner. Thanks to them, Andy is able to leave his job once again . . . for good.

In the car, I started listening to Wayne Dyer's CDs, Call to Inspiration about being inspired, meaning getting back to Spirit, and his big message was about taking that one big step to live your dream. The big step that came to my mind was leaving my job in order to be free to build my practice and have time to write my bestselling novel. Have time to network, have the identity and have the opportunity to do what I am here to do on this earth, help people overcome their obstacles. And yet, I have this huge obstacle right in front of me.

I know this is what I need to do, but how to do it? It's more than just giving my 2 week notice. I have bills, lots of them. I have rent. I have an appetite. If I could have one wish, it would be to have a financial windfall so that I could sustain myself without my foundation job. Enough to pay off all my bills, have savings large enough that I could live off the interest, and have even more left over to invest in my business. What's funny is I actually think this is a possibility.

I know what I need to do. I just need to know how. Maybe I should buy lottery tickets along the way home.

Eternal Flames

There are certain people you know you will love forever. The type of love and the intensity of the love may change, but there will always be love.

Yesterday, I got to see someone, whom for many years, I considered "the love of my life." Oh god, I hope not. It was an unrequited love, not at all the type of love I would want symbolic of my life. I did love him nonetheless, and seeing him yesterday, I know I still do.

Two Weeks

TO STRIVE, TO SEEK, TO FIND.

AND NOT TO YIELD.

Written on a chalkboard at the very end of the movie One Week. Interesting mantra to inspire me on this road adventure I'm about to undertake, to drive my car from the old Washington (state) to the new Washington (DC). I didn't think I was seeking anything, not even the inevitable adventure part, but I suppose it's actually a new vision quest I have begun.

While, unlike the movie's main character, I have not been diagnosed with a terminal disease (thank God), but we both seek new life somehow. My transition to life on the East Coast almost complete, I get the feeling the real transition is yet to come.

I mean, I know the move to DC was the right next step in my life, but it just doesn't feel as magical as it did before. I would get this visceral feeling every time I landed there. I didn't just walk down the streets, I would strut. (OK, I still strut.) This immense joy and excitement emanated from my pores. But now, now I am just feeling lost.

I don't regret the move. Quite the contrary. Yet, there's something else. Maybe it's the reality of my job, the stuckness of it. The monotany, the hypocrisy, the go-nowhere-bs that I've been dealing with the majority of my professional career. Sometimes, I'd rather stab the backs of my eyeballs with pins, or pull out my fingernails, than show up to work or deal with some of the tasks I have to. God forbid my boss doesn't get a Starwood hotel!

There has to be something more. I know there is.

I feel bad for feeling this way. I mean, my work has been pretty good to me, as good as they can be. And my boss has been pretty generous with me. Just like this trip to Seattle. I apparently wasn't supposed to go, but my boss let me still, knowing I was planning my drive from there. She did say we had to be mindful about budget, but is she? She's one of the the biggest violators I know, with her insistence on her preferred hotels and renting cars for $50/day plus overnight parking for another $50. To get to the office by taxi is about $10 each way. Talk about humble and mindful.

Me and Them

Of course she has to be in town this weekend. Saw her in the office today and I suspect she avoided me. I wonder if she knows about me. Ugh, I'm thinking about the Summer Picnic. Will they be together? Will either of them be eyeing me? Oh god, what am I going to do? How do I not look so foolish? It feels like Bridget Jones' Diary having to watch Daniel Cleaver and that American woman. Do I really need to see that?

How do I make myself rise to their level, or what they perceive to be that level? Go to a good grad school? Come from money? Get famous?

I Am Good Enough

Another lesson I learned is I am good enough. I mean, I couldn't believe he was attracted to me. He's got a high up position, works with the big whigs at work, and he wanted to date me. I didn't even know he knew who I was. He did, and he was interested.

The Cycle

I just got a great reminder that for every ending, there is a new beginning. And as I end this phase of my first dating relationship after my divorce, I suppose I should take a look at some lessons learned before I begin my new one:

1. I have to be honest, most importantly to myself. The talk I gave before about wanting to keep it casual was because I was afraid, and unsure, and quite frankly, I wanted to reject him before he rejected me.
2. I'm proud of myself for staying my Self. I didn't really change myself for him. In actually, I let myself shine.
3. He may be older and more successful, but I am much happier with my life. I am incredibly blessed and grateful for everything that I have.

I know I deserve more than what he gave me, so it is indeed better off that this is over. Granted, my ego is upset because it wasn't under my terms, but I am better off without him. As gentlemanly as he was, he wasn't the most considerate of friends. How could I put up with someone like that? Couldn't even say happy birthday. Clueless.

Reflections

I know the breakup isn't a reflection of me, but I can't help but feel those pangs of rejection that I've been all too familiar with my whole life.

But this isn't about me. He wanted something different in his life. He had already created an attachment to Trisha, a while before I got in the picture. She was his first relationship after his divorce.

But I did like him. I did like trying something out. Maybe it wasn't him, but I liked dating someone I was attracted to, felt chemistry with and respected, who respected me, too.

So why does it hurt so badly? I need to remember that this isn't about me. That I did want something casual, that I'm not ready for that right relationship and now I'm closer. Much closer.

Lesson Learned -- again!

Oh fuck, I'd forgotten what heartache feels like and it's a feeling I wish could have stayed forgotten. That emptiness, that seemingly never-ending pit in my stomach. I don't understand. I mean I wasn't that into him. I didn't think I was. He never satisfied me, he never fulfilled me emotionally, physically and definitely not spiritually.

Maybe it's that lacking that I'm so used to. I hardly ever did have that in my life. Okay, so there was my ex-husband for a while, and we know how that ended up.

I don't want to be sober. I don't want to feel this way. I know it's supposed to be for the best, but this sucks. I tried to protect myself. SO WHY?

What the fuck is casual anyway? How the fuck do I actually do that? How was I able to do it before?

Unexpected News

Took out The Athlete for lunch today, and he broke the news to me that he's been seeing someone and it's gotten serious enough that they're exclusive (again). I'm not completely surprised, I was kind of warned this would happen. And I was warned it would happen soon. I guess I just wasn't expecting right now. Or I just forgot. Or I just hoped. Or . . .

I was fine at the time, but now that I've had a little while to let it sink in, I realize that I'm really sad about it. Not that I wanted to develop a committed relationship with him, but that now we can't exactly be friends. I don't want our friendship to end. I was really looking forward to our friendship. He says he was, too, but it would probably be difficult for her.

Why would he do this? She lives in Seattle and he's moving to DC! We were both looking forward to having friends there, but now. I mean, WTF? Not smart, not smart on his part. Why would he do this? What is he thinking?

It's fear. I know he's afraid of being totally alone. Maybe my talk with him about keeping it casual knocked him into some bit of fear into commitment. Kind of like The Agent. Is it some bit of fear that if things don't go well with one woman, they stick to the one they've got? And why her? Ok, she's young, she's smart, she's somewhat cute, and kinda frumpy like him. I just wish she were a better person.

Fuck, I need to get a better job. That might be part of it.

Time for that Talk

There comes a point in relationships (if they last long enough) to have a talk about where it's going and I'm wondering if it's about that time with The Athlete. It's been almost 4 months, which may sound like quite a while, but considering we've been long-distance and also very casual, perhaps it's too soon.

But now he may be moving to DC. He had his second round of interviews and sounds like they're very interested.

Uh oh

It's been almost 2 years since my ex-husband and I broke up and I'm finally dating someone -- kinda sorta. It's casual, we had to establish that from the get-go. He is still in the process of getting divorced and I was in the process of moving across the country. I would get ample opportunities to go back, about once a month, sometimes more, so we could see each other quasi-regularly, but . . .

I'm back at that stage again, where I obsess over the person I'm involved with, whether the person is good or bad for me. I haven't quite figured out about where helies quite yet. I mean, he's a good guy, but he's also not ready. He has a temper . . . face it, he's curmudgeonly, although not to me. OK, not yet. This happened with my ex.

The Princess

Let's call her Madeline. Blonde curly hair, slim and petite, and considered pretty by many accounts. Born of British and French parents, educated in Swiss boarding schools and ivy league college, fluent in 3 languages and smart as hell.

While she's been very nice to me, she reminds me of those bitches I went to boarding school with, believing they're holier than thou. Full of criticism of anyone they think is inferior to them, and make no hesitate to state it outloud. The only way I could put up with them and Madeline is because I know their deep dark secret: they're full of criticism of themselves, too.

How The Athlete is friends with her, I don't totally understand, but I have to admit it knocks him down a few notches.

When I want it, I really want it

I really should listen to my friends, who all see the signs. Shit, I see the signs, and yet they don't deter me. Is it some neurosis some women get after they get some after so long and then can't get it anymore? I saw that happen recently with a girlfriend of mine and it started to sound ridiculous. Maybe it's karma.

We had our big company meeting the other day and I did see him at the reception afterwards. I was on my way over to him to say hello but the got caught in a conversation with my old boss and a few other cute 40-something male colleagues at this table. Ooops, just my luck. =)

Yesterday morning I got a bug up my butt to try something kind of fun. I used the hotel stationery to create an interesting invitation that I hoped he wouldn't be able to resist. Unfortunately, he did.

Freshly Waxed and No One to Do

Question: At what age does sex cease becoming a priority?

I'm back on the West Coast this week and of course I contacted The Athlete to set aside some time. All he could spare was Monday evening, and he calls me a busy bee! Since I didn't arrive until Saturday and i had class all day, Monday was my first chance for my maintenance bikini wax, right before meeting him, but I figured I could pull through, especially if a cocktail would be involved.

I also had to stop over the local toy shop (the classy kind, that specializes in serving women and couples and discourages creepy men) for a few supplies (which I was hoping he'd get to enjoy). We met at a bar afterwards and enjoyed a nice, cordial dinner. Our company's big annual meeting is today and we both have early-morning meetings today, his at 9 and mine at 7:30. It was obviously going to be an early evening and while I didn't quite have anything specific in mind, maybe a quickie, he apparently had nothing and pretty much called it a night as we left the bar and walked in our respective directions sharing only a few blocks to continue our conversation.

Fuck! Frustrated and prepared for what could have been an especially fun evening, I decided to call him and invite myself over, but no, he decided to be good and do some prep-work for the big meeting. Fucking discipline. Where the hell are your priorities?

I'm not desperate, really

. . . but I had to ask a boy out. Handsome, smart, appears stable, totally my type. Probably married, but just in case, I had to put the feelers out. He helped me with a post I was working on for a blog and, well, I'd like to thank him properly. ;-)

Let's see if he responds. Wish me luck.

Caved In

OK, so I caved in. I've signed up for Match.com. It was part of an effort to forget The Athlete. Who the hell's The Athlete? He's basically the first guy I've dated since my divorce almost 2 years ago. Well, maybe second. And no, he's not an athlete, but he does like sports, doesn't really play sports, but he likes watching sports. I don't know why I feel inspired to give him that nickname, maybeto throw off his identity a bit. No, he's not famous, but I should keep his anonymity so I can be as candid as possible on this blog. I guess that also means I should withhold my identity, too. And no, I'm not famous. Perhaps infamous.

But I digress. I've been sorta-kinda dating The Athlete since Valentine's Day. I don't know if you'd call that a date, but it was the first time we actually hung out. First time we really had a conversation in fact. We've sort of known each other for years. OK, maybe we've just seen each other around the office. I've known who he was and I guess he knew who I was, not much more beyond that.

And then...

Last year, we ran into each other when I was helping a colleague set up food for a team lunch. He stopped over and asked what it was, was familiar with the restaurant, and I had him help himself. I didn't realize how cute he was, I mean really cute. Like "how did I not notice you before?" kind of cute. And since then, I did whatever I could to run into him, which unfortunately was rare.

We ran into each other in the kitchen once. Actually, I busted him fishing around the candy bowl for the highly coveted Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. I teased him about it and it turned into an extended conversation about food and sweets and bacon and whatever small talk we could muster. But yes, bacon turned into the primary topic of our conversation. Perhaps not so special since bacon tends to be the primary topic of most of my conversations, if I can help it.

So Saturday night, February 13 rolls around and I was home packing away for an extended business trip when I got an email from The Athlete, that he was thinking of me because he had just gotten back from a conference in Southern California and had bacon every day. Hmmmm, interesting. Maybe the normal gal would find it insulting, but I reveled in it. Yes, I do love my swine. We ended up emailing each other for the next 3 hours, discussing not just bacon, but the Olympics and how I had seen on Twitter that something cool was going to happen at Apolo Ohno's speedskating event (unintended spoilers from the spoilers East Coasters) and so we watched somehow together, but over email, and eventually asked about other interests besides bacon, the Olympics and washing our hair.

Fuck it. I decided to stop beating around the bush and told him that the conversation had me craving bacon (ooh, if that's not an invitation for some naughty pun, I don't know what is) and invited him out to breakfast at one of my secret spots. How does one refuse such an invitation. I mean, I'm apparently known for my culinary cravings and am often asked for advice on places to eat. There are, however, a few choice locations that I do keep to myself because sometimes, I just don't want to run into people, especially on the occasional weekend morning when I just want to roll out of bed and get a good breakfast. And rarely, when the stars get aligned just right and I'm in the right mood, I will extend an invitation to a select friend. So I did.

Birth, Or Rebirth

Greetings from about 35,000 feet in the air. Yes, I'm writing this post as this Boeing jet takes me and my furry companion eastward to our new home in Washington, DC.

I'm super-excited, this has been a long time coming. I've been in love with the town for as long as I could remember. In fact, I think my romance may have started when I was a kid watching Heartburn with Jack Nicholson and Meryl Streep. I remember the scene when they first met and her pick-up line that she recognized him from Meet the Press. I thought that sounded so cool (ya, okay, I was a bit of a nerd growing up) and since then, I became a regular viewer of the show. Actually, maybe it was the movie, Broadcast News, during the first date between Holly Hunter and William Hurt. I just thought it was so romantic and glamorous to dress up for a party at an embassy with the backdrop of one of the monuments. Maybe that's why I'm moving to DC, to experience dating in what I consider one of the most romantic cities in the world. I've been working in DC pretty regularly the last 6 months and I fall in love with the town more and more every time.

I feel like John Hurt's character, Quentin Crisp in An Englishman in New York when he arrived in New York. Feeling like as soon as he saw the city, he wanted it. That its streets were the closest thing to Heaven on earth and that walking on them wasn't about "scurrying from shadow to shadow," but striding down the middle, "on display."

I don't stride, here. I strut.

Renewal

Every time I get on this blog, I feel like I need to start over. I've had a couple of tries with titles and format, but I think that this time is it. I want to be honest and frank, so I have to keep this anonymous. I am starting this out of a friend's suggestion, an outlet for me to get my frustrations out, and document some of the funnier things that have a tendency to happen in my life.

So, sorry to disappoint you, but my real name isn't Persephone. Does that really matter? I think the name still sums me up, my uniqueness, my personality. I may refer to people in my life by their real names, or real qualities about them, or not. Shall we start this adventure?