My New Career

I seriously must have "therapist" stamped on my forehead.

For some reason, J thinks its okay to pour his heart out to me about his relationship (or lack there of) with WG. Its been pretty constant for about 5 days now, and I don't think I can take much more. Fortunately, this is my last day of work until the New Year and I'm heading down to hide out at my parents house, so I may be able to avoid it.

Friday, I managed to avoid most of it by having dinner with C and then going to see the Holiday. J had called while I was in the movie. His response when I walked in the door was.

"Thanks for the call back!"

I stared at him for a moment, blinked a few times and went into the kitchen.

"Where were you?" He called after me.

"I was at a goddamn movie." The interrogation was getting to me. I had to work the next day, but I sat and tried to have a conversation with P, Legs and J. When the conversation turned into a J sob fest, I had to retired.

" I have to work tomorrow, I'm heading to bed."

J can't stand to be out shone. "Well try having to study all weekend for a test you have no idea about."

I sighed and threw him a disgusted look. "Yes J I realize that your life is SO hard and SO miserable. You win! Goodnight!"

Later P told me that Legs got a kick out of the way I dealt with J. Its the ONLY way to deal with him. If you give him an inch, he'll take a mile.

Saturday had me nodding constantly over dinner as he went on and on and on about this relationship. I told him my opinions about WG. I believe her to be self-centered, snobby, not very attractive, and mean, not to mention having a very high, unfounded opinion of herself. She hooked up with her ex boyfriend, which sent J into a tailspin of emotions, resulting in tears. There really isn't anything much more uncomfortable that a guy crying.

All I know is after seeing M cry, I was never fully attracted to him again.

Sunday he walked in all red faced. I asked him what was wrong and he dissolved into tears. I do the best I can, but I can't understand all this for a sub-par girl.

I asked him point-blank to tell me ten things that make this girl worthy of such a display of emotions. He didn't really know.

"She's just great."

"Why?"

"I don't know, she just is."

"You have no reasons? If you cannot write me ten reasons then you have no reason to be acting this way." I'm starting to get mean.

"Okay, fine." He picks up the pen and starts to write.

"Sex doesn't count." The writing abruptly stops and he drops the pen.

I don't know Kate."

He kept wanting hugs, and at one point I was trying to watch "Love Actually" to get in the Christmas mood, and he kept coming down from studying and talking AT me, and at one point he sat on the ottoman at the end of the couch I was sprawled on and hugged my feet.

I hate to be touched, I'm not a huggy, touchy feely person. Not to mention someone touching, actually hugging my feet. It was just awkward. I'm trying to be nice and there for him, but its exhausting, especially when the girl is NOT WORTH IT!

It was when he started going into his abandonment issues, and his issues with his mother and what a bad parent she was and all when I checked out. I can't handle all his issues that are stemming from an unhealthy relationship that I warned him about in the beginning.

There's something we must all remember. Excluding her OWN relationships, Kate is usually right!

Things I'm Thinking About Right Now

My Pants

They're driving me crazy, but I love them. I love the way they look, I love the color, but still they're driving me crazy. Its like they're made wrong. They're this grey/blue color, flared cords and i realized today that they are from Aberchrombie.

I haven't shopped in Aberchrombie in years. I don't really look good in barely there, pre-pubescent clothing. The clothes look cute in the pictures and in the window, but one Aberchrombie fitting room session is enough to send this chick into starvation mode. (Which lasts for about 2 hours, lets face it i love food!)

Because I know I haven't bought anything from them in ages I try to trace the history of my pants. All of a sudden it hits me! I was wearing these pants when I made out with QB! Have I mentioned that I have a ridiculous memory? I made out with QB in 2000 the night before Thanksgiving (again with the memory thing!) Fine! I'll admit it! QB was my first kiss. If you do the math, I was 20. THAT'S why I remember so well.

Anyway, so I at least have had these pants for 6 years. That's as far back as I can trace them. For a girl who fills about three garbage bags a season with old (sometimes new) clothes, to have pants for 6 years is an accompishment.

I love them though. I wish it were unconditional, but the damn waist of them is out of proportion to the rest of my pants. When I stand, they look great. When I sit, I feel like a Two Ton Tessie, which my gut splooging every where, and I don't have a gut. These pants make one for me. Its like they attached a size two waist to size six pants. Humph!

Or it could be the massive amounts of Chinese food I ate last night.

Coffee Mate

I love coffee mate. I'm obsessed with it. I haven't met a Coffee Mate flavor I haven't liked. The lack of Coffee Mate is bound to produce uncharacteristic hissy fits, which in turn has prompted most of my family to keep copious amounts of the liquid joy on hand at all times so as not to have a grumpy, caffeine deprived crazy banshee yelling at them for not having any.

This same reason has also made my parents stock ACTUAL REAL coffee in their house as well, since they drink decaf. (What's the point?) Also, my dad was losing money on all the trips to Dunkin Donuts I was sending him.

Today I had a hybrid of Gingerbreat, French Vanilla and Coconut Cream in my coffee. Not because that's how I like it, but because that was all I had left. Interesting enough, it didn't taste half bad.

My Boss calls it my girly coffee. So be it! Girly coffee is yummy!

My Conversation with G Yesterday

First of all, he calls me at 3:30 in the afternoon. Obviously I'm at work. I answer anyway, because I hate my job and secretly hope they will fire me for taking personal phone calls at work.

G: "Something wrong with your computer?"

Me: "Yah, How did you know?" (remember its possible that he's a secret spy, so I'm always suspicious of him and how he knows things.)

"Well I emailed you, and you haven't responded and I know you wouldn't be at lunch, so I looked on messenger and you weren't signed in, and you don't sign off of that until you leave, so I figured something must be wrong with your computer."

"You do realize if I had done the same thing, Email, twice, and then call you at work, you would call me crazy."

"Well this is about your Christmas presents."

"Oh in that case, continue." I had sent him my wish list a few nights ago. He insists that I make one even though I feel funny doing so. I can never think of anything on the spot. The list was random in itself, containing books, DVDs, a Padres baseball hat, and a Noise Machine from Brookstone. My heater is waking me up about 3-5 times a night, and of course when i wake up i have to use the bathroom. Its all just a pain in the ass, I just want to be able to not hear the CLANK, CLANK, CLANK of the stupid heater. Punching it and kicking it have yet to produce results. I told G in Lieu of the Noise Machine, he could come and take the termostat out of A's room and put it in mine, but he opted out of that.

"So this baseball hat," he continues. "Are you sure you want a small?"

"Yes, I want a small, I have a small head. Trust me I've tried on Boston ones. I even got one as a large, exchanged it for a medium, and that was too big, but I was too embarrassed to exchange it again, so I gave it to M." It took a little more description that is too tedious for words, but I think he finally got it. I mean I sent a PICTURE!

"Okay, so what sizes are you? Just in case?"

I rattle off my sizes.

"What about jackets, you know, just in case?" I can see there are going to be NO surprises this Christmas.

"I'm a woman's medium, men's small."

"You're really a medium?"

"Yes, I can wear small in shirts too, but usually I go for mediums."

"Well I'm just thinking because I'm a medium, but you have a um..." He searching how to put this delicately, "a larger chest."

"You do realize that men's sizes and woman's sizes are different?"

"But you're not that much shorter than me."

"I'm shaped completely different than you are! I mean most of my shirts are medium, if not medium than small. Do I look obscene in my shirts?"

"No! Not at all! In fact you could stand to look more obscene. I just can't judge sizes. I'm just saying I would think with your chest...I don't know."

I laugh, its funny how clueless he is. How could he think that a men's medium and a woman's medium are the same. How can he not see that we have completely different shapes? He just doesn't think, its almost endearing.

I'm still going to use this conversation as ammo for a long time to come.

On My Stellar Work Ethic

I have a meeting at 12:30 at our other campus. I'm not good at meetings. I have the attention span of a toddler. I space out, I lose my train of thought, and I'm horrible at getting my point across when I actually can think of something to say.

I work weird. I always have. Its all in my head. I don't write things down, I know our clients on sight and i almost have all the schedules committed to memory as well as room assignments. My former co-worker used to call me rain-man and periodically give me pop-quizzes.

Most of all the other campus is a 30 minute drive. While I like the idea of 30 minutes of no one being able to bother me, its the fact that the meeting falls right in the middle of my lunch hour. This means I don't GET my lunch hour. My one blissful hour of not being bother by annoying work problems and I get one whole hour to read. Yes, I read. A lot. Its my one hobby. Sad to say my lunch hour is the only thing that gets me through my day.

I know you're thinking. Why doesn't this whiny crack pot get a new job? Well she's working on it, its just that the holiday's have made this crack pot lazy and complacent, and the fact that the big boss has generously given everyone two weeks off, make it very hard to leave.

Come January, the job hunt begins.

I'm sure it will be hard to find a job where I am able to do NOTHING all day. Actually it may be a good thing NOT to find that again.

Now I have to go perfect my "interested face" for the meeting.

Its Called a Pub Crawl for a Reason

4:30 on a Saturday afternoon found me perched on a rickety bar stool, slurping a potent pink liquid through a two foot straw out of a large ceramic bowl.

Hong Kong was the first stop for me and my friends on the Pub Crawl that we attended this past weekend. For future notice, Hong Kong is not the place you want to start a pub crawl, unless you want a jump start on your hang over, which is precisely what we got.

Hong Kong is famous for its Scorpion Bowls. For 17.25, you can get a massive bowl filled with an unidentified alcoholic substance, that tastes like pineapple juice, and you can share it with as many people as you want. We had two in a 25 minute period. We had missed the first three bars, I think we were over-compensating. They're damn good though!

From there it was a blur: A beer at Clark's, a beer at Cheers, food and beers at Hennessey's, a break at The Bell and Hand. I did see someone get kicked out of The Bell and Hand fro knocking a hamburger bun of a waitress's tray. Sullivan's Tap was next. It was a very narrow, strange bar, where we had yet ANOTHER beer. I was feeling pretty good then, but was starting to
coming down by the time we were on to the final bar, the Harp.

I was pretty done by the time I got there. I was just sitting starting off into space, wondering what time would be the right time to leave with out a) being rude and b) seeming like a loser. I was just looking forward to my bed.

Finally we decided to head back to my apartment, having our fill of the pub crawl. The Harp was starting to get crowded with barely 21 year olds and this old fogey was ready to be done.

(I'm posting this for lack of anything else to post, but I'm definitely still struggling with my writing and inspiration.)

Seriously, I'm Not Lying!

A day in my life. Just to prove how mundane its all gotten.

7:00 AM-My alarm goes off. I hit snooze, not believe that it is already 7:00 AM and I have to get up, even though I went to be at 10:30 and got more than my 8 hours of sleep.

7:09 AM-My alarm goes off again. I exhale a huge heaving sigh, shut alarm off, trip to door to grab robe and head to the bathroom.

7:25 AM- Out of shower, I gather up all extra toiletries, because after the shower I am a bathroom nomad. I never know where I'm going to end up. It might be my bathroom, the boys bathroom downstairs or J's room. Wherever there is a mirror to help me dry my hair. Oh the unknown is very exciting! (gag)

7:30 AM- Dressed and down to the kitchen, I grunt good morning to P. Yesterday he was in his undies, they were red. Not digging red undies on a boy. I have my 6 oz. of orange juice and avitamin, before drying hair, applying deodorant, (when I remember) and brush my teeth.

I try to get out of the door by 7:53, so I can make the light down by the mall by 7:56, and get into the Tip O'Neill Tunnel by 8:00.

(Okay, writing all this down is very depressing knowing that my morning is that structured.)

On my way to work, its Billy's news at 8:03, and then the entertainment report at 8:15.

I'm pretty good at getting to work by 8:30. Then its to my desk, dodging preschool moms on the way. Then into the kitchen to make my coffee and oatmeal and then pretty much tool around all morning.

11:00ish-snack. Typically a banana and a yogurt smoothie.

1:00-lunch

4:30- I can leave and usually make my way to the gym. At the gym, no matter what time I go I see the same people. It's bizarre.

Hop on the cardio machine for 35-45 minutes depending on my mood. I used to watch TV, but now I just listen to my horribly outdated Ipod. The 6 TV stations with just news or sports on them bore me. I like to know what's going on, but my quickest workout was when, for some reason, one of the TV's had MTV on and was playing Parental Control.

Although the past two days one of the TV's had Lifetime on, which makes me believe that finally the women have complained enough about the ESPN and the ESPN news. Not that I don't like a little PTI now and then, but 4 out of 6 TV's is a tad excessive.

I leave the gym usually between 6:00-6:30 and am home by 6:30-7:00.

Shower, make dinner, and watch TV. And usually into bed by 10:30-11.

Ta-Dah!

I mean obviously there are little variations to each day. Monday night saw A and I trying to talk some sense into a distraught J. He was distraught over WG, it was crazy and I kept t trying to tell him so, but he wouldn't listen to us.

Last night was A and I discussing how crazy J is over WG and how when on Monday night WG showed up at the apartment, J was like a puppy dog with the earlier display of despair and tears, (I can't even tell you how uncomfortable THAT made me. I can't handle girl tears, forget about boy tears, sheesh!) forgotten.

There are also mornings when I wake up and see all three of their significant others and realize that I am the ONLY one in the apartment who didn't get laid the night before.

Ah, C'est La Vie.

Out of Semi-Hibernation

I've been trapped in a self-induced semi-hibernation over the past week, including the Thanksgiving Holiday. For some reason, that I'm still not sure of, I had from Tuesday of last week till yesterday off. It was great, but not being used to such a long period of time off, I really had no idea what to do with myself.

Because of this, my body shut down into a state of hibernation. It was some what of a comatose state, but I could walk and talk and unfortunately eat and eat and eat. I think from Wednesday night until Saturday night, I had left my house for a total of 2 hours. I watched a lot of What Not To Wear and drove my mother crazy.

Today I have emerged from my self imposed exile. I'm actually looking forward to going to the gym tonight. I feel like a sloth.

I'm ready to be normal again and get into a routine.

I've also been thinking about what I've been writing lately and how lacking it has been in the past two-three months. I've had things on my mind that were really not blog worthy, and thus couldn't really find any worth while content to write about. Trust me, my health issues are not riveting reading, and me getting back on track in the gym and eating better are also B-O-R-I-N-G.

That's what I have been focusing on in the past couple of weeks, (excluding last week, unfortunately).

I want to write more and I want to write better. It may take me awhile to get back into the swing of things, but g-damn it, I'm going to try!

That being said, I went to the dentist last week for the first time in 5 and half years. Yes, YEARS! I'm horribly embarrassed about this fact, but its a fact that I must be honest about. In my defense I have not had dental insurance in 3 years. My parents have been offering to pay for a cleaning for a while so I finally took them up on the offer.

My dentist is my next door neighbor. We (my family) even call her Dr. {First Name}. In the summers we could hear her drills through our open windows.

Knowing her on a personal level makes it all the more embarrassing.

The hygienist was new and around my age. Where as all the other hygienists know me as Katie and since I was 4, this was a little different.

Things change from when you were 22 to when you are 27.

Questions like "What are you doing after you graduate?" are replaced with, "Are you married?" and "Do you have any children?" I just managed to stop my self from saying "Good God no!" and was able to go with a muffled "No, I'm not." I supposed they never realize that its impossible to speak with a large vacuum in your mouth.

I'm not quite sure what the poor hygienist was expecting, seeing as her first comment upon viewing my pearly whites, (with minimal coffee staining) was, "Well! They're not as bad as I thought they would be!"

So now my dental clock has been set back to zero, I have no cavities, and I may have to get my wisdom teeth out. Well I know I'm supposed to get them out, I was supposed to get them out 10 years ago. Now its about whether or not I can afford to. Fun Fun Fun!

We'll call this a warm up post. Hopefully I an drag something slightly more interesting out of my life in the following weeks.

100th Post

Wow.

I can honestly say that when I started this blog, I didn't think I would write 10 posts never mind 100. I'm actually pretty proud of myself!

I write for myself mostly and I'm happy that I have this record to turn to. All my years of journal writing have never been this prolific. So yay me! Now I can look back and figure out what I've been up to and why.

I know as of late I've been pretty lethargic. The colder weather has set in making me more of a home body, but I'm hoping with the arrival of the holiday season I will start being more social.

As much as I love the Holidays, I dread giving presents. I have absolutely no faith in my gift giving abilities. I stress and stress and stress. Last weekend I threw a fit because I didn't know what to get my friend for a house warming gift. I got her a candle. It was actually pretty neat, It makes the sound of a crackling fire when you light it; albeit a very very small crackling fire, but different no the less.

I also balanced my check book this morning, and I'm at a loss as to how my money is disappearing at an alarming rate. I think I'm pretty frugal, I believe my mom used the word "tight", but my funds are just disappearing.

Okay, maybe I didn't need the new pair of knee-high boots, or the three new books. Its quite possible that the Banana Republic shopping spree was not an absolute must and I could do with out the four shirts from the Gap that I purchased this weekend, but what's done is done.

I also should probably not be planning on going to Barnes and Nobel to buy the Autobiography of Santa Claus on my lucnch break, but I'm intrigued and once its planted I can't shake it. I supposed the sushi I'm planning to buy from Whole Foods is a no-no as well.

And yet, I'm still perplexed as to where all my money goes!

Knowing Your Audience

In my hometown, there was a big scandal involving the high school football team and hazing. This is a resulting conversation involving me and my mother.

Me: "What exactly happened?"

Mom: "Well, supposedly, they tied the boy to the bed with duct tape and then they threw semen on him."

Me: "Big deal, women have to deal with semen on them all the time."

Mom: "What did you say?!"

Me: "Umm nothing?"

Taking One for the Team

In a bid to get C laid after, well after a very long time, I found myself going out on a Friday night at 10:00. That's PM.

I can't remember the last time I went out on a Friday, never mind that late. This is just a testament to what a good friend I am. I thought I was going to get out of it, but alas, I was shit out of luck. We had already attended the Celtics game that night with dinner before hand. I think that was a very respectable night out, but C wanted to meet the object of her affection out after the game so I complied.

When we got back to my place after the game, C called the Object. He did not answer and it was already 9:30 so I thought I was home free. Because I thought this, I decided to eat half a pint of Ben and Jerry's Apple Pie Ice Cream (I'm a sucker for limited batches). For some reason that day I had been a bottomless pit. I'm not even usually an ice cream eater and if I have some its usually a spoonful here and there. About 10 seconds after I forced the pint back in to the freezer, her phone rings. I groan inwardly.

She snaps her phone shut. "You up for it?" She looks so excited, I can't say no.

I drag myself up off the couch and up stairs. Some how I manage to make myself look presentable in five minutes, cursing Ben and Jerry the whole time.

The night was relatively fun. I didn't know anyone, but for some reason I didn't care. The guys we were with were nice enough, one had potential until the second bar contained the woman he was dating. She was way too old for him, but oh well. I didn't have to pay for any drinks. C felt bad and tried to push money on the guys, but I was all for taking advantage of the situation. From Daisy Buchanan's to Harvard Gardens to the 21st Amendment, we wound our way through the streets of Boston.

Even though work loomed before me on Saturday morning, it was a fun night, put me back in touch with my city.

I do love Boston. I just wish I had someone to enjoy it with sometimes.

PS: C did not get laid, despite my best efforts.

I Don't Know

I'm sitting here, at my desk/counter, guiltily drinking a pre-school juice box, thinking that I should write something. I haven't written in a week.

My immediate response is: Write what?

I have a ton of things I can blog about. My 5 days with G, S's wedding, seeing married friends from Texas, but I'm coming down from all that so its hard to capture the excitement and fun of the weekend without sounding mundane and flat. I want to be able to do those events justice and I just feel FLAT!

I was so sad when G left that even the toll taker at the Sumner Tunnel tolls felt he had to call me sweetheart as I handed my three dollars over trying to hide my tear stained face. Its not fair, those days with G just felt right. Why don't I deserve to feel like that all the time? I'm going to stop there before I get into whinny mode, and NO ONE likes that, including me!

S's Wedding was a BLAST. She was the beautiful bride I knew she would be, but still retained so much S'ness (my new adjective) that even though it was a fancy wedding, it didn't feel stuffy or strained. It was just fun.

After a tiny self-doubt session about my dress and shoes and the pantyhose or no pantyhose debate, I felt I looked good, and G looked very dashing in his new suit. I don't know why that boy doesn't like to dress up, he cleans up very well.

My blah's combined with grey November weather makes for a bad combination, but I'll snap out of it. The holiday's are coming and I am a holiday FREAK! I really get too excited. I'm probably the only person who actually LIKES that the stores decorate for Christmas so early.

To cheer myself up, I'm making a list of things to look forward too. (Warning: Most will revolve around food and that is why I have upped my gym visits and intensified my work outs.)

1. Tomorrow night dinner with New Jersey friend at Bambara.

2. 6 WHOLE days off for Thanksgiving.

3. Christmas shopping, Christmas Carols, Holiday foods, Holiday smells, Christmas trees..ect.

4. Dec. 2nd 12 bars of Christmas Pub Crawl. 2-8 12 bars, how can you go wrong!

5. Christmas Eve with the family

6. Christmas Dinner

7. New Years in San Diego.

See, plenty of things to look forward to! So what if I'll mostly be alone and with out affection!

Crushes Crushed

I have a long history of crushes on athletes.

For some reason all my childhood crushes were on basketball, soccer, baseball or football players. I became a die hard Red Sox fan because of my Tim Naehring crush. It did not matter to me that he had a slight mullet and was 35. I loved him and no one can take that away from me! Freshman year in college I had a poster of Drew Bledsoe on my wall in great contrast to S's posters of Tori Spelling and Prince William.

For that reason, when the senior quaterback showed up in my sophomore biology class, I was a goner. It didn't matter that he was a senior in a sophomore biology class. He was cute and athletic, my only requirements at the ripe age of 15. I crushed on him for years off and on. He failed biology, never really graduated, and is now my mailman.

Thanksgiving Eve, my junior year in college found me at the same house party as the QB. I was impressionable, and still in tune with my old crush. He didn't have the same appeal, but the nostalgia was there, and I fell for it. I accepted the invitation for a walk which lead to a very public make out session.

He was my first real kiss. Yes, I was 20. Yes, I know that's really odd and I was really old for that to be my first real kiss. Don't worry I've made up for lost time.

It was only after that night I found out that he was still with the same girl he was with in high school, they were in engaged, and she was pregnant. I felt like shit, but I took it for what it was and am doomed to remember it forever as my first real kiss.

Fast forward to six years later, I have since graduated college, got my masters and have lived in SD for two years. It was Thanksgiving eve, the unofficial yearly high school reunion. I'm at the local bar with friend having a good time. QB is there. A bit heavier, a bit more down looking. I pass him on the way to the bathroom and he looks at me in a way that makes me push a little more forcefully through the crowd.

The night progresses, I'm having a great time and then he comes over. I think its not a big deal, we have things in common, we can talk about stuff. I try to have a conversation with him, but he doesn't really talk. He asks me if I want a beer, I say no. He asks me if I want a water, I say no. He's not talking so I turn to my friends.

One of my friends hands me a beer. QB returns looking slightly offended but still not talking. My friends are giving me looks with confused expressions and raised eyebrows. I try to avoid him, but he's just hovering near by.

Two friends tell me they are taking off and I have to get my jacket out of their car. I tell two other friends to make sure he doesn't follow me and push my way towards the exit. I'm almost there and I feel a hand on my arm. Its the QB.

"What do you want?" I ask, now I'm mad, I tried the conversation, now he's just weirding me out.

"Just take this, write me." He looks desperate.

I'm incredulous. "What about your wife!" I stare at him, trying to figure out where he's coming from.

"Just take it. You can write to me."

"I'm seeing someone" I had just met G. He thrusts this small piece of paper into my hand and turns to leave. I give up and rush outside to my waiting friends relaying the bizarre events as a breathlessly gather up my coat.

"..and he hands me this piece of paper." I hold up the offending object and start to unfold it.

"Oh my God, its his home address."

As I was expecting an email address of some sort, this discovery unnerves me. My distaste and anger melt away to pity. Even now I'm unclear of what he wanted from me, whether or not it was an affair or just someone outside of his life to talk to.

I've learned since from J, who happens to be his cousin. That QB is unhappy with his life and probably feels trapped, but that's not my problem and I don't want to be involved. I'm sure he's idealized me anyway just because I'm different and out of his day to day life.

The saga doesn't have an end. Saturday night I found myself at my hometown's VFW at a benefit form M's cousin who passed away from an overdose. I go for M and for no other reason. QB was best friends with M's cousin.

He and his wife run the event.

I have no idea what she knows, though I felt a chill when I handed over my ticket. I also have a sneaking suspicion that she short changed me on my raffle tickets. I was probably being paranoid, but I couldn't help it. It was just an awkward event. I didn't even exchange a glance with QB. I was very careful to avoid doing so, but it was still weird. The Thanksgiving encounter was too strange.

Its just one of those growing up things. I used to worship QB. He gave me the teenaged butterflies and now he's just a prime example of a dissatisfied life. It depresses me a little, knowing that his best years definitely were in High School. As much as I had a good time in high school, I relish all of my experiences that have come afterwards more than I've ever relished high school ones.

I know I have many more to come my way. I can't imagine peaking in high school.

No Manners!

I'm sitting at my desk, minding my own business, and in walks My Crush. Its Tuesday! He's not supposed to be here until Thursday!

I'm annoyed.

Here I am blissfully unaware, satisfied by my huge Baja lunch with my dad, in a shirt that makes me look way too chubby, and in he comes all cute, scruffy and brooding. I want to throw my mouse at him.

This is NOT how it works. No surprise visits!

G'Damnit. I had my outfit all picked out for Thursday. It was complete with fuck-me boots. I'm beyond disappointed.

How am I supposed to make him see what he's missing when I'm wearing dirty cords, (don't judge me if was a rough morning) and a sweater that adds ten pounds. I'm sure that my deer-in-headlights expression when I saw him didn't help my case, nor did the fact that my arms instinctively wrapped defensively around my abdomen.

So its been almost three months since our first date, I'm hoping one day soon I'll snap out of it. Maybe its because he''s the only guy recently who's shown any interest or potential. Granted the potential was really short lived, but I just wish I knew why? I'm hoping I didn't some how unknowingly screw this up and he's not the one coming in every week wondering why I didn't want to see HIM again.

Though I highly doubt that.

At least G will be here in a week. That will be a nice distraction!

Frustrating

Its sad when you're sitting in a meeting across from a man so filled with enthusiasm and passion for his organization, and you can only think, "I need to get out of here." "I need a new job."

I feel nothing for this place and I'm not sure that I have ever. Its not that we're not doing worthy stuff, or that the mission isn't inspiring. We're doing good noble stuff and providing a service for the community, I just feel nothing.

I feel guilty as a I was spacing out concentrating on my mounting hunger, trying to plan my weekend in my head. I'm bad for the organization.

The problem is whether or not its the place or if its just me. Am I going to feel like this at every job I'm at? If so, where does that leave me? Permanently dissatisfied?

Like everything else I'm going to blame it on hormones and the weather. Not very feministic of me that's for sure. Oh well!

Bff's 4 Eva

For some reason, when S and I found out that we were going to be each other's freshman year roommates we both cried. There really was no GOOD reason for us both being so dramatic, but we were young, we were both coming from comfortable High School situations and, well, College was scary.

We vaguely knew who each other were because we were both in the same orientation group. It was rare that people in the same group actually became random roommates. I told S I thought she was a lesbian, and she told me that she first thought I was the weird, scary girl from our group who actually left orientation early. While I did want to leave early, I stuck it out.

Obviously, we were both wrong.

I didn't actually think S was a lesbian, I just liked to kid her about her embarrassing mistake in a stupid ice breaker game where you had to run to a different shoe when certain characteristics applied to you. When our leader announce "the wind blows for whomever likes the girl on top." (yes very mature) S, not paying attention had the misfortune to run AND get stuck in the middle, thus magnifying her mistake. Oh the hoots and cat calls could be heard all over the campus! I, on the other hand, had my foot firmly stuck to my own shoe.

Lucky for us, none of the freshman roommate horror stories applied to us. We got along great! S made fun of my undies and opened my world to shopping and the fact that I shouldn't wear brown shoes with black and many other fashion tips. In return, I kept S highly amused with my clumsy antics. I garantee today she can't think of me falling down the front steps at our freshman dorm in front of both our families without laughing out loud.

Flash forward 9 years later and we were at her bachelorette party this past weekend. I have to admit I didn't think the old girl would settle down, but she has been tamed and is getting married on November 4th. (hehe, J/K, S)

We don't get to see each other much, but it seems when we do its like we hang out every day. I never laugh so much around another person as I do around S. It didn't matter that we were in the most pretentious bar in Boston, we were just able to be ourselves. Like we were back in college, being goofy, saying inappropriate things to inappropriate boys, only to kick ourselves later and laugh like crazy over it. I even had the pleasure of running into an old college classmate in the bathroom, running back to S and gossiping about how awkward it was and being catty about her in general. The night was a blast. Me assuring S that she didn't lose her purse, S assuring me that I didn't look like a slut in my new slutty shirt.

Just like old times.

If only the Hill was open so we could get grilled cheese sandwiches, go back to a our turquoise and lime green coordinated dorm room, and watch "Dazed and Confused" for the 35th time, only this time S won't have to leave me to finish the movie by myself so she can fight with her BF in the hallway.

The freshman roommate gods were obviously in a good mood when they paired S and I together!

I can't wait for the wedding!

Bull Frog

Today is one of those days where you brush your hand accidentally across your leg and think: "When, exactly, DID I last shave my legs?"

I'm still nursing my cold. Hopefully it should be gone by the end of the weekend seeing that would mark its one week anniversary of making my life miserable. I spent most of last night trying to stave of my hacking annoying cough, and while on the phone with G he started making "ribbit" sounds at me. He was right I do sound like a frog, especially at night. Its very annoying!
My voice seems to alternate between a bull frog and a twelve year old boy. You know, Peter Brady style.

Awkward conversation last night with P. He A and I were in the living room while J was upstairs, antisocial style with IWG.

P looks at us and points up stairs and starts whispering. You can hear everything in our apartments, and that is NOT a good thing, trust me.

"So I was here earlier, and IWG was in the shower and J just walked right in." Noticing our blank expressions, he looks at me. "You still have the see through shower curtain right?" (I don't even WANT to get started on that topic).

"Yah we do." I replied, still unfazed.

"Sooo.. Has he seen all that before?"

A and I exchanged glances. For some reason, and I'm almost jealous, P has been kept out of the IWG saga.

I look at A and then at P. "Yes, he has."

P looks confused. "and have they...-insert rude hand gesture here-"

I look at A again, obviously there's no use keeping it a secret, so I answer,. "Yes they have."

"And she still has...."

"Yes she does"

"Jesus!"

"Exactly."

"Wow, I guess I've really been out of the loop." P doesn't look like her really cares either way.

"That's not a bad thing!"

Cue thumping noises upstairs.

Ugh, I hate that I'm witnessing this debacle. Someone, (J) is going to get hurt and someone (me) is going to have to mop up the mess.

Perfection!

This past weekend was one of the best weekends I've had in a very VERY long time.

Not only because it was four days long, but because I was able to witness and be a part of a very special event for a very special person in my life. The wedding was perfect. I know you're thinking "Really Kate? Perfect? Is there such a thing?" Maybe not, but for all intents and purposes, it was perfect. Maybe there was a little drama with the way the veil was sitting on the Bride's head and maybe there was the time that M stepped on the train of my dress and there was a ripping sound that made everyone within a ten foot radius stop and gasp. (No undies were seen! Damage was minimal). There was just nothing big that went wrong. You always hear horror stories of things that can go wrong at weddings, but nothing did and I know anyone looking back on this wedding will always remember it with a warm, fuzzy glow.

I'm so happy for GJ that everything went so well. Watching and helping her plan this wedding for the past year, I know how hard she worked to make it happen, right down to the smallest detail. Her attention to detail showed in every aspect of the event, from the preparation at the salon, (4 hours that flew by like nothing) to the pre-ceremony at the bride's parents house to the ride to the church and the ceremony itself.

I suppose I'm gushing, but it requires nothing less!

Some highlights.

Wearing my hair up for the first time EVER, and liking it!

All the bridesmaids wearing false eyelashes. SO much fun. K is a genius with make-up.

Wearing the strapless dress and only pulling at it about every 10 mins instead of 5.

Not chipping my manicure until Sunday! A HUGE accomplishment for me.

The cutest ring bearer ever being pushed down the aisle by his father.

K's gift of two baskets of butterflies, but they were too cold to fly so all the children had them all over themselves. They were in the brides veil and on her bouquet. They're going to have gorgeous pictures.

M ripping my dress during the cocktail hour.

The father of the bride presenting the couple with a "redneck windchime" that he made himself out of hubcaps.

K making everyone cry with her speech when she recited an ee cummings poem at the end. My napkin was streaked with mascara.

Getting my beer knocked out of my hand by the groom and a grooms man while they were chest bumping and taking a while to realize there was glass in my foot. A minor injury.

Walking to the local bar after the reception in our dresses, only to realize that my father had my ID. I tried to sneak in, but its hard to be incognito with a floor-length gown, and was forced to sit in the bouncers chair while waiting for my dad to bring my ID.

Reminding N (S's fiance) that the last time he was wasted he had licked the entire left side of my face.

Getting home at 2:30 AM exhausted and satisfied and happy.

I suppose I should throw in some lowlights, but they don't really have anything to do with the ceremony itself. Mostly they have to do with my dumb-ass roommates.

Sitting the ceremony and watching GJ and D say the vows and tear up and glow and realizing that there is no one in my life at this point and time that I could ever imagine going through something like that with.

A saying all night that he doesn't have a girlfriend and hooking up with K's old roommate J, then spending the rest of the weekend with C.

JT talking all night about how he's in love with his gf and how he will probably marry her, only to make-our with one of GJ and K's cousins at the bar.

J leaving early with out telling anyone, trying to talk to me about IWG to the point I had to yell at him to stop and tell him that it wasn't his night and him staring at his cell phone all night. I was embarrassed for him.

See, very few low lights. They just come from people's lack of character and inane stupidity.

It was just such a good time, I'm still comming down from it. Being at work really triggered at mini depression, but I suppose that's only natural with something you've been looking forward to for so long has come and gone.

I'm so happy for GJ and D and I hope they're enjoying their mini-moon on the Vineyard. I also realized how much I miss hanging out with K and I hope our busy schedules can mesh a little more. Maybe I'll have to schedule a facial! That will be an adventure!

Wedding Jitters

No, not the bride, but me.

I'm flying down to my home town after work to pick up my dress and I'm beyond nervous. I know the color will look great with my coloring, the style and fabric are great, the skirt is perfect for my figures, seeing as A-line is my friend, but that damn top is giving me nightmares.

The top is made, (or has been made) to wear with out a bra, and I'm a girl who wears a bra at all times. I'm sure it will be fine! (fingers and toes crossed!)

I'm excited for the weekend though. It seems like it was just yesterday we were planning her shower and I was trying to find the right plates. I'm so happy for GJ! She is the first one of my close friends to walk down the isle. S is next in about four weeks. I'm sure there will be many to follow.

It's strange and its not strange. GJ and her fiance are perfect for each other, they've been together for 6 years and living together for 4. This is just the culmination of everything.

GJ is probably one of the best friends that I have. She is strong, confident and probably the most straight forward and practical person I know. Talking to her about whatever is bothering me no matter how stupid or trivial it is always makes me feel better. The fact that she is always interested in what I am saying and always offers the best advice, makes her easy to talk to and share things with.

We grew up together, although we had a rocky start. Ever the perfectionist, GJ was a little put off by my eclectic coloring technique in a mutual friend's coloring book. Luckily, GJ soon recognized my creative genius and we became fast friends, though we always avoided coloring together. As we grew up we tore it up on the soccer fields, shared the basketball bench, and won second place in our elementary school's invention convention with out revolutionary design for a top-bunk/bottom-bunk table. Obviously GJ's design.

As we got older nothing really changed. GJ and K would summer with my family down the Cape and I would go with them to Maine or camping. The tree of us also managed to survive a month in Europe by ourselves, backpacking from city to city, country to country relying only on GJ's organization and trusty guide book. K and I would just follow behind, knowing she would find us a place to sleep or get us on time to the next train.

I know that GJ is the first person I would turn too if I need help or advice, and I'm SO happy and excited for her as she takes this huge step in her life and I'm so proud to be able to be a part of it!

Congratulations J And D! I love you!

The Lake

I took these two pictures with my phone. Again they don't do the view justice, but it can give you an idea.

Bliss

At one point this past weekend I said to myself, "It doesn't get much better than this."

It was mid-afternoon, my belly was filled with a country breakfast, I was properly caffeinated, recently showered and dressed in my favorite, ten year old pants and an equally old worn t-shirt. Everyone else was napping, but not being a napper myself, I had settled myself in an Adirondack chair, my bare feet propped up book in hand. I was able to catch the last of the afternoon sun before the shade captured my spot. The view was indescribable. I sat there for a few moments contemplating how to describe such a view, but I knew I would never be able to do it justice.

It felt like a writing exercise when you try to come up with similies. "The leave were as red as..." or the "Lake shined like..." They all sounded stale, predictable. It was just so different than the scenery I'm used to. The leaves were amazing. It wasn't exactly peak foliage time, but there were smattering of reds and oranges sprinkled between the giant pines. The lake was calm and the hills rose above the horizon, gentily rolling along the length of the opposite shore.

I sat there for an hour or so, until the sun disappeared behind the house and the temperature dropped dramatically. The house was cozy though. The floor to ceiling windows provided the same view, but without the fresh air. The whole weekend was comfortable, a nice escape from what was left behind.

The company was great, there were no awkward moments, just good conversation, good food and great friends, as well as, one very well behaved dog, who stole the show. He was the kind of dog that makes you want to have a dog of your very own.

Sunday was rainy, but it allowed for more time to relax, watch football, and for GJ and me, time to finished all her place cards for the wedding. Her chocolate theme place cards included Hershey's Hugs, stuck through w/a tooth pick and flags with the name of the guest and their table assignments wrapped around them. They came out cute, but it was a lengthy process. I'm not the most crafty person, so I was a little tentative to help out lest I screwed some up, but one you got in the groove it was actually easy.

I was glad for this weekend. It was a nice reprieve before going back to work, roommate issues and relationship messes. It was nice to be able to sit there and sigh and feel absolutely content with that small spot in the world that you are occupying, even if it was fleeting.

It was nice to slow down.

Now I'm back, work is work, the roommates are bitchy, my car needs a new transmission, and in just 3 days, I will be wearing the first strapless dress ever. Hopefully by then this growth above my lip will fade so when K does my make up, she doesn't' have to make fun of me.

My name is Kate, I'm 27 years old and I still get the occasional blemish. There really aren't any perks to getting older.

Fleeing the State

I'm leaving the state of Massachusetts tonight!

It's the first time I have left the state since June when I flew off to San Diego, unless you count Rhode Island (which I don't, it's barely a state.) I grew up so close to Rhode Island that its more like visiting a neighboring town rather than a completly different state, except for the fact that their tax is 7% where as Massachusetts is 5%. That fact just makes shopping it Rhode Island unfavorable.

New Hampshire is a whole different story. While I grew up in the south eastern end of Massachusetts, New Hampshire was North, making it seem very far away. It also holds many family anecdotes, like the time I lost my big toenail in the swinging door of a New Hampshire Burger King, or the time we almost lost my little brother at "Story Land" only to find him eventually in Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater's Pumpkin. I've seen the infamous "Man in the Mountain" who has since met and untimely death and most notoriously I have shared a motel with a hunted murder, but that's a story for another time.

Tonight I'm heading up to Lake Winnipesauke with girl J and her fiance. The idea is to unwind and relax before the chaos of the next week starts. I can't believe their wedding is only a week away. GJ's fiance, D's mom owns a gorgeous house about 20 yards from the lake. Its sleeps close to 15 people and I just the kind of place that comes to mind when you thing of rest and relaxation. My favorite aspect of the place is that it has floor to cathedral ceiling windows that give a breath-taking panoramic view of the lake.

There will be reading and hiking, some movie and football watching, but above all relaxing!

Relaxing means no thoughts of My Crush, whom I've been thinking of constantly since yesterday. I want to somehow get up the guts to maybe get the nerve to approach the subject of hanging out again. I thought I had convinced myself I didn't care, but the close proximity of yesterday convinced me differently.

I'm torn between the "just go for it, you have nothing to lose" theory and the "obviously he would have asked you out if he really wanted to be with you, so don't hurt your pride" theory a la He's Just Not That Into You.

I just don't know what to do.

What's in a Greeting?

My job is ridiculous. I just received an email from my immediate supervisor. It was sent to all the staff in the office:

Hi,

Starting now would you please answer the phones saying "Registrar's office, (your name) speaking." We can no longer answer with just our names.

Thanks,
Your Supervisor

The funny thing is that when I first started in the den of despair, I was told to answer with just my name. In fact, at first, being unsure of how to greet the clients that called in, I would say, Registrar's Office, until my supervisor, whose position was then what my position is now, told me I could just use my name.

Its really not a big deal, it just struck me as trivial. Now I feel silly answering the phone, while before I felt buisness-like, brisk and efficient. Now I sound all sing-song and stupid.

I responed kiddingly to the email saying it would be hard, but I would try my best. I was trying to be humorous, but in the past year or so, my supervisor has become a little more serious.

The response was "Okay, please do try... maybe a stick up note on your computer to remind you..."

I give up. Will the world end if I answer the phone incorrectly?

So now, purely for my own amusment, there is a long piece of masking tape across my keyboard with the words: "Registrar's Office, Kate speaking!" I get a huge kick out of it everytime I look at it.

Ironically enough, I probably need the reminder. I think this morning alone I'm 1 for 10 on phone calls, using that greeting.

Topic Change!

My Crush came in this morning for a staff meeting.

Damn him for looking very fuckable!

Also, damn him for talking to me like we never made out!

Damn them all!

Its Becoming a Serious Condition

I just developed a crush on a person at my counter. He was married, he has a child and he was only asking me about preschool enrollment. It had to have been the most bland conversation ever, but he was attractive and I felt very self-conscious and silly while talking to him.

I think its the fact that I've been with out any physical contact for so long. Well not even that long, about a month and a half, but still, I'm feeling the absence so much that I'm starting to look like a fool in front of cute men: cute, married fathers in fact.

My Crush was my last hook up. He was okay, but I felt like he was going to take some work, unfortunately I never got to actually find out. I wonder how he would respond to an invitation for a purely physical relationship? I'm up for that! I pretty much thought that that was how it was going to go anyway.

I at least have and end to this dry spell in sight.

November 2nd G comes to go to S's wedding for four whole nights.

I think I'll make it, but I'm not quite sure. I just checked out a 19 year old, one of our students, but in my defense he looks MUCH older, in a moody, sexy, guitar player kind of way. It makes me wish I were 19 again, but with my 27 year old brain.

And the Hits Keep Coming

I knew it would happen eventually. I had to have contact with My Crush for work purposes. I was dreading it, knowing that I would some how end up sounding stupid and/or pathetic, but it had to be done.

I'm nothing if not professional!

So I call and his phone goes right to voicemail. I leave the message stating the purpose of my call. Lucky for me I have this sick/nasal/raspy/sexy voice thing going on.

He calls back and he uses his full name when I answer the phone, like I need the clarification. We get the business stuff out of the way, it entailed placing a new student on his schedule.

"So you'll let me know if she's starting next week?" He asks.

"Maybe." I chuckle. "Or maybe I'll just tell you next week when you show up."

He laughs, "Ouch!"

Then I feel my smart mouth had made me sound more vindictive than flirty, so I switch to business.

"I'll give the mother a call and then get back to you." My crisp business tone is back, hampered only slightly by my stuffy nose.

I call the mom and she is starting the next week, so I call him back to get it out of the way. Let me just say, I'm nervous making this call. It uncontrollable and it makes me furious! I feel like I'm back in eight grade calling a boy I like and not really know what I'm going to say.

He answers, I relay the message. Then I have to ask him another question.

"Did you get all that information that I left you about that ensemble." More work talk, but I don't really care if he got it or not I'm trying to prolong the conversation. "Flute Teacher had me going in circles trying to figure out what information to give you, so I wasn't positive if that's what you needed?"

"Yah, I got it. Flute Teacher is making my life annoying right now with this." Then he laughs. "Every time I see him I think of that story you told me about him. How after hours he dances around the place playing his flute!" He laughs more, damn him for being flirty!

"That's not what I said!" I protest, laughing along with him. "You're going to get me in trouble for telling stories about this place!"

"Yah, Its too late I've told everyone!"

"Yah I'm sure!" We're both laughing, it seems comfortable.

Then abruptly. "Okay well thanks, bye"

I pause, "Umm, bye."

That's it.

The most frustrating part is that I've convinced myself that we wouldn't have been a good fit and it probably wouldn't have lasted, but I thought we had fun, and we always laughed when we talked and hung out. I guess you can just never tell.

On top of this event, I got a call from G. He's back in the country, but we having talked yet, because we wait for him to adjust to the time difference and I don't like talking to cranky G. He called while I was at lunch, and didn't have my phone with me to tell me that he's getting on a plane tonight and won't be able to call me for a while.

It makes me sad because I was so looking forward to hearing from him. I'm also sad because his birthday is Sunday and I had sent him a gift and now he won't get it. Its his 30th too.

Oh well. I think I'm going to go find a nice big rock to climb under for a while.

How to Offend a Metrosexual

I was lounging on the couch the other night, still nursing my lingering cold, reading my cooking magazines and getting giddy over the new recipes, when J and IWG came bursting through the door into the apartment. They were fresh off their jog which only made me feel like more of a lethargic slob.

There's a brief discussion on who is going to shower where and they head off. I hear some murmuring and then from the top of the stairs, IWG yells down.

"Kate do you mind if I use some of your shampoo and conditioner?"

I'm a good sharer so I yell back, or at least I try to, but my voice doesn't exactly work. "Sure help yourself!"

I don't think anything of it. I don't care if she's using my stuff. She's using J too!

Well it obviously bothers J. He comes down the stairs to use the downstairs shower, much to A's displeasure, all offended.

"She doesn't want to use my shampoo!" He is incredulous.

I'm unsympathetic, "So?"

"Its good shampoo! Its expensive rosemary and mint shampoo from Aveda!"

I know this is the shampoo he uses. We share a shower and I've even tried it a few times. Its okay, but very minty.

"J, sometimes people don't like minty shampoo. The shampoo I have, although cheap, is mild and her hair is thin. Your shampoo might be to harsh for her." I reply calmly, ever the diplomat. I feel like I'm talking to a five year old.

"But still, why wouldn't she use it!?" He's not listening. I ignore him and eventually he goes and takes his own shower.

I'm slightly offended by his disgust with her choice of shampoos. I like my shampoo, its gentle and it makes my unruly hair soft.

If I thought that was going to be the only display of immaturity it this hour I was sorely mistaken.

Some of J's habits disgust A. So the fact that J is in his shower is too much to bear. He stands in the kitchen barking orders at J.

"Hey Guy! You better use the squeegee!"

"Hey Guy, don't touch my shampoo, hey!"

Yes this is how A speaks. I'm trying my best to duplicate it in writing. Its somewhat a cross between a surfer and a Canadian. It makes me giggle and more than once I've found myself adding "hey" to the end of my sentences.

Soon J comes out of the bathroom to find A hovering.

"Did you use my stuff?" He demands.

"Why does it matter?" J responds neither confirming nor denying. This only fuels A on further.

"That shit's expensive, guy!"

"Calm down! I'll give you the seventeen cents worth of stuff I used!"

This goes on for a little while like a ping pong match, before I get bored and turn my attention back to my magazines.

At least living with these guys provides unlimited entertainment!

A day later, J came down the stairs and AGAIN asked me why she wouldn't use his shampoo. A whole day later!! I can tell its been bothering him all this time.

I chose to ignore him. Its too exhausting dealing with metrosexuals and their products!

It Just Figures

Now that the crazy week is over, the debilitating headache is a distant but painful memory, I figure I can get back on track. I can start eating better, and more often, I can start going back to the gym and I can start to feel normal again.

I was completely ready for this new routine to start. Then I woke up with the mother of all colds.

Now all I want to do is crawl into bed and sleep and the thought of food makes my stomach churn. Forget working out! I can't even breath through my nose and walking up stairs is giving me problems as the cold has started its decent into my chest and lung area.

I'm starting to get desperate though. I'm in a wedding two weeks from Saturday, and I'm wearing a strapless dress for the first time EVER. Being somewhat well endowed, I have shied away from the strapless dress, but seeing as the dress was not my choice I have to grin and bear it. The little Portuguese seamstress has promised me that she would fit the dress so I won't have to worry about anything, but I'm still very worried.

I had plans of toning my arms, getting back into my gym routine, but the past few weeks have worn me out so much that typing this is fatiguing me! Pathetic!

I told myself that I was going to go to the gym tonight, but of course half way to work I realized I forgot my gym clothes and of course I still have my gym membership next to my OLD apartment so the round trip to retrieve the forgotten clothes would be fruitless. I also think that doing the 45 minutes on the elliptical in heels may produce shin splints.

It was the though that counts.

The boys have been having their girls over lately, and of course they're all perfect. They come in and I'm sitting on the couch crosslegged, messy ponytail, and surrounded by tissues. I answer their greeting in a voice akin to a migrating goose, and burn with embarrassment.

I'm hoping this cold will run its course quickly and I can go back to feeling normal-ish, because I don't know if I've ever been completely normal. I'm just tired of feeling like a big blob of sick and tiredness!

Last Week in Review

Whew!

I was glad it was Monday. Then Monday started.

First I want to flash back to the end of last week. IT was a long trying week, but it was moving along quickly and most of it was under control and I was pretty proud of the way everything had gone at work. I knew I was running myself into the ground though. Lots of caffeine, little food and a lot of worrying and stress.

Thursday was a somewhat humiliating day in retrospect and even though I was disgusted with myself for doing so, I paid extra attention to my appearance because Thursday is My Crush's teaching day. I was slightly nervous all day, since he doesn't start teaching until 4:45. The office was busy and I was occupied, but turned to see his back at the mailboxes and the I had to take a phone call and that was it. Not backwards glance, no small smile, no acknowledge of any kind.

I could feel my face burn and the irritation sink in. So it didn't work out dating, but we still work together. Can't we be cordial? Above all I was embarrassed. I can't even pretend to know what went wrong, the whole situation is just embarrassing now.

I even had to call Ex M for a little reinforcement on the way home. He actually was a big help and made me feel so much better. He had a great response to my whole story.

"Seriously Kate, He is either gay or has a girlfriend."

I like his response because both his reasons really have nothing to do with me. Except if he is gay, I'm not a man.

Friday came and I was happy to see it. I knew it was going to be a quieter day, with a much smaller schedule and less people to deal with. I also was getting out at 2:00 because in the warped minds of my bosses that seemed fair for making me work on Saturday. Maybe if I didn't have to work the following Saturday that would make sense and I could get a jump-start on the weekend, but nope, I got to be back at work at 9 am the next morning.

I was talking to a woman at the counter about her sons piano lessons, when I started squinting and blinking, there was a glare on her face. I smiled apologetically and turned away for a moment. I turned back to the woman and tried to continue my conversation, but the glare was still there. I squeezed my eyes close and pinched the bridge of my nose. I was very aware of how strange I was acting, and was starting to get embarrassed. I shook my head once to possible clear the glare, but it didn't' t work. I had to face the facts.

The woman looked at me with concern. "Are you okay?"

I squeeze my eyes shut again, "No" I said miserably. "I'm getting a migraine." I had an aura which is my tell for a migraine. Its usually like if you look at a bright light and then see the glare, but it also distorts things. I can't see strait, read or focus. Seeing them usually produces instant nausea and distress of what was to follow.

I instantly down four advil and hope for the best, but the aura isn't going away, and that's always the worst part. I knew the only way to get rid of it is to sleep it off, but of course I couldn't drive and there was no one to cover me until 2. It was 10:30.

I walked into my bosses office mouth open for deep breaths and eyes squinted so as not to see the aura.

My boss looks up. "Are you okay? You have the Jon Header thing going on." It took me a second in my foggy brain to realize he was comparing me to Napoleon Dynamite. Thanks Boss!

"No, I'm not okay. I have a migraine." I push through the other door in his office and make a bee-line to the restroom where I was spectacularly sick. I really did think the week was going to get better, but the migraine proved me wrong. I managed to make it home and slept all afternoon, allowed my pathetic sick self McDonald's for dinner and watched the Wedding Date with J. J can always be counted on for a chick flick.

The migraine subsided just in time for this nasty cold to set in.

My body is FURIOUS with me!

Hell Week

This week marks the worst week of my year. Its the first day of the semester at my job and as the front person, the person who knows everyone and the only one who knows what is actually going on it means ten hour days, stress, sleepless nights and no time to eat. It is awful, but lucky for me it goes by fast!

I'm tired. As I post, tipsy, I reflect on my tiredness. I am tipsy off twisty bottle topped wine. In my sleepy haze I bought it by accident. I was looking for a particular wine. A Mondavi Cabernet sauvignon, and I looked and looked, and finally I found it, I grabbed in and made my way to the check out. As I was waiting I put the divider on the belt. The woman behind me looks at me weird.

"Are you buying anything?" She asked me quizzically.

"Oh! The wine is mine!" I gesture toward the lone bottle sitting on the rubber belt, flanked by two plastic dividers. "Its been that kind of day." I add apologetically.

She laughed and help up her bread. "If only someone had cheese we would be all set!" There's something warming about shopping line camaraderie.

I looked at my wine bottle and noticed something amiss. The top doesn't look right! Then I dawns on me. Its TWIST TOP! The horrors. I was bringing this bottle home to share with A, a notorious wine snob, and in my exhausted stupor, I bought twist top wine! I was wondering why it was so cheap. Now I knew!

Its funny how I used to get so excited about a boxed wine sale at Rite Aid to drink out of plastic blue wine glasses and now I'm horrified at the though of twist top wine. Oh how I've grown. It was blush boxed wine too.

My eyes sting. Only three more days. Oh wait. Four more days, I have to work on Saturday. Its not fair, but no one really seems to care. I will make it and everything will be fine. They're just music lessons. Its not that big of a deal.

Now if only I could convince my subconscious that this was the case, I would be waking up at five in the morning and laying awake thinking about random work stuff.

I'm sporting some wicked dark circles!

Dirty Word

When people, manly women my own age, ask me if I'm single, I often reply apologetically that I am. Like I've just uttered at dirty word. I hate it that I react that way. I feel like I'm letting them down, because I don't' have anything to relate to them about. I can't commiserate on annoying boyfriends, or share my engagement story or amuse them with my agonizing wedding planning stories. I feel like I am a failure. I'm afraid that they pity me, and although one quite nicely told me that I should enjoy my single status for as long as possible, and sometimes she wished that she was still single, I know she wouldn't trade her life for anything. I just don't want the pity.

This is mostly self-imposed, I know this.

Most recently I don't even have fun single-girl stories to share. D has gone back to Florida without so much as a backwards glance, G is in Japan, and My Crush has become My Annoyance. I haven't heard from him in a week and a half and now I'm just wondering what the his purpose in asking me out in the first place was? Maybe I was just a bad kisser?

Well maybe we won't go that far.

The weekend has been okay, but every experience seemed to shove my single status in my face. I beautiful wedding shower with a fun, happy couple and sitting at a table of three married girls my own age, for one. I'm beyond happy for the couple, but you can't help but sit there and wonder if you'll ever get to experience something like that for yourself.

Last night I went out with my brothers and their significant others. It was fun and I love hanging out with them, but being the fifth wheel is never fun in that situation and then afterwards at the annoyingly hip Gypsy Bar, I couldn't help be disgusted by the scene.

"I think he wanted to dance with you." My sister-in-law shouted over the overbearing techno music.

I think I physically shuddered. I'm sure he's a very nice man, (doubtful) but the whole image of the club goers is such a turn off. I just wanted to be home, curled up in bed.

Even as I'm sitting here watching the US Open, I can't help but pathetically wonder where MY Andy Roddick, ahem, I mean Prince Charming is.

Mom's Home!

I stumbled into my apartment Tuesday night after being gone for five days. I was weighted down with clean laundry, an over-packed duffel bag, several plastic shopping bags full of groceries, and balancing a tin foil tray of eggplant parm all the while balancing dangerously on my heels. Two expectant faces turn towards me, not noticing my unstable state and they launch right into it.

P and A have obviously had a rough weekend and are ready to tattle on the bad seed.

"You need to be here more often!" Starts A, definitely the more vocal of the two. Lucky for them I am a good multi-tasker and a great listener. While he goes on and on about J, I am able to unload my self, put away my groceries and place the eggplant in the oven. All while making the appropriate "hmmms and oh reallys?" that are required of such a conversation.

Long story short. J is jealous that both P and A are getting regular, ahem, ladies attention. It would all be different if J was getting the same attention, but alas he is tragically hung up on a taken woman, and is annoyingly vocal about every aspect of their interaction. I have no sympathy on him, he brings it on himself and I have no respect for her because she teases him wickedly. She's basking in his attention and I don't have respect for women (girls) like her.

After being bombarded by A and P it calms down and I am allowed to unwind and eat something, but then J arrives home, and with a few jerky head motions I am sitting cross-legged on his plaid comforter waiting for it.

"You need to be here more often!!" He starts. Hmmm? Where have I heard this before. The fact that they value my presence so much is somewhat flattering and exhausting at the same time.

J then launches into a counter attack on P and A.

"C (A's lady) was here ALL weekend, and P and Legs were here too. I was miserable. A and I were supposed to hang out." J is all dejected. I try to reason with him and tell him he would be the same way if he had a significant other, and in fact he is rather pushy about being alone when Involved Work Girl (IWG) is around. As he insists that he would not be that way, I feel myself glaze over and I resort to the "mhmms" and "oh reallys" that got me through the previous conversation.

Its amazing how much those responses are all the they all need to feel like they've accomplished something and they feel better. I guess I can handle it if its all I have to do, but soon I feel these conversations are going to be repeating themselves and I may just crack one day.

The relief I felt when I was finally locked in my room was palpable!

(Started on Thursday 9/7, finished 9/10)

My Own Little Place

I'm still a firm believer that I will never feel the same way about some place as I feel about San Diego.

San Diego was like a first love. It was new and completely different from anything experienced before. SD was every thing that New England was not. It was warm, inviting, and calming. In Boston, you always had your back up, waiting for either the next blast of cold air or the next blast from a disgruntled Bostonian. In SD I always felt like I was walking around with wide open arms, ready for anything and everything.

We broke up though. I was looking to grow and SD was holding me back. I left with out a backwards glance and made my way to bigger and better things, but as always what I had imagined my new life would and what it actually was, did not match. The new career did not magically appear, the wonderful new friends that I would make in graduate school never materialized. I was back into the same pattern as I was in SD, but missing one thing. The place itself.

I'm sure in some way I am romanticizing SD to no end, but I can't help it. There will always be a soft spot in my heart for that gorgeous southern California city. Even now I grasp at any information about SD. I google old location, I look for jobs and apartment. I imagine the "what if". There are some days where it may not even cross my mid, but more often than not I am nostalgic over the place, I am jealous of others who get to live there or who talk about it like it is theirs.

Don't they realize it was mine first?

Like a jealous ex-lover I sneer at them. They will never know you, SD, like I know you, I think with a self satisfied smirk. They will never hold a job in the most beautiful place in SD like I did and they will never know the secrets about you as I do. They are not worthy of you as I am.

Sometimes there is panic that I have made the wrong decision, that I don't belong in Boston, but out there, and I've just been sidetracked. I know nothing is written and stone, there is always a way back. I know SD will always welcome me. It may not be financially forgiving, but it will always be there.

I've been very homesick for SD lately. I don't know if its because the end of summer is in sight, I don't know if its hormonal, I don't' know if its because my constant SD link is out of the country. All I know is that when I get that tell-tale homesick feeling its always for SD. I never felt homesick for Boston, the way I do for SD. G said I'm not supposed to call it homesick because SD isn't my home, but I disagree. SD is the place where I feel most at home and most at peace. Home does not necessarily have to be where you were born and raised. I think home is more of feeling that an actual place.

There s a hold that keeps me here, in the place where I am now. The needs of others has always been a stronger presence in my life than my own needs. For now I am here and I accept it, but every once in awhile that feeling of longing for SD just consumes me. I know I have to ride it out and let it pass, but that ride can sure make one sad.

Rage

The morning started off normal enough. My alarm jolted me awake at 7:15 and after wishing I had another two hours to sleep, I rolled out of bed at 7:17, put on some clothes for modesty's sake, and stumbled down the stairs. The same routine every morning since I had been in the house.

Over the fan in the shower I could here some thumping coming from outside of the bathroom, meaning J was stirring.

I had a feeling that soon I would here the insistent knock on the door, letting me know that since he has risen, he expects to get in the bathroom as soon as possible. The knock comes, and I answer with a terse, "One minute."

I complete my routine and open the door. I was going to let it go, even though I was fuming.

He stands up from where he was sitting on the stairs like a little boy who's been pouting because he couldn't get his way.

"I don't know why you get so mad. Its 7:47. You're taking too long."

I know there is no way its that time and launch into an explanation of how I get up at the same time every morning and its not my fault if one morning he decides to get up at 7:30 and 8:00 the next. It wasn't fair and I'm not taking too long.

"Well I have to shave!" I start to explain again that he's just rude, and he can wait one minute before bothering me and rushing me and then he does it. He rolls his eyes at me.

There are two things you want to refrain from doing concerning me and they are patronizing me or thinking I'm stupid. Rolling his eyes was a direct link to patronizing in my mind. I can't stand being dismissed in that way.

So I lost it.

A red mist descended in front of me and became detached from my body. I screamed, I swore, I hit things, slammed things and stomped away.

How dare he?

I can't handle anger. I was shaking and teary for a good two hours after the incident. My body just can't handle the rage. It just wells up inside of me until I become something alien to myself. I get my temper from my dad. He rarely gets angry, but when he does its so frightening you can't believe that this man is the same person. I'm the same way. Some what akin to the incredible Hulk, but with out the strength part. That is probably a good thing or there would be holes in the walls of the apartment. One would have been J shaped.

That's why J was probably only the 5th or 6th person to see a reaction like that from me. Three are my parents and older brother and the other two are exes, C and M. M saw it only once and learned his lesson. I am easy going and very slow to anger, in fact, I rarely ever get mad, but it was time I suppose.

It was building up. I had kept my cool for most of the move-in process, through the rent dispute, through the dishes debacle and furniture arrangement. I didn't get mad when he used my down comforter for him and some chick and the put it back half hanging out of the duvet cover in a disprespectful way. I let that all go, but that morning I couldn't.

I scared him. He showered in the other bathroom. He doesn't get it though and I sincerely think that he never will. To him, the world will always revolve around J and only J.

At least now he'll think twice about rushing me in the bathroom.

Its been a long week and that was just part of it. The new person at work, the all-work staff meeting, unfulfilled promises from unworthy boys, A having a different girl over every night, thus banishing me to my room lest I become the third wheel. Its just been exhausting this week. I'm glad tomorrow is Friday. The long weekend will be a welcomed reprieve from my life. I'm going into hiding at my parents and I hope I'll be able to start fresh on Tuesday!

Blur

I've been seeing everything somewhat blurry for the past few days. I hate this time of year at work, and implementing new procedures now, instead of in June when I could have really worked with them, is driving me insane. My new assistant started on Monday too, and now I realize I have a valid answer to my mother's insistent question:

"Why don't you get your teaching certificate?"

Well, to me it is now shockingly clear that I cannot teach. I have no idea how to help this poor, unaware woman learn how to do her new job or how to help me.

As I type this, I have one eye closed because of the blinding pain above my right eye. Its stressful to be responsible for another person. I'm going to have to stop thinking about it for now, but this is also the time of year where I wake up at 5 am thinking about things I have to do at work or things I've forgotten to do at work. Its frustrating because this job means NOTHING to me, and yet I still get stressed!

Hopefully I will think of something more interesting to write about other than work.

My Crush did call on Sunday night asking me if I wanted to go out with him and some of his friends (?) either tonight or tomorrow. We shall see. Having lost faith in most men in the past two weeks, I'm not anticipating much!

B is for Boring

What a week!

Noting and I mean nothing has happened. My highlight was that I finally got to the gym in my new neighborhood. Of course I pulled a muscle and haven't been back since, but I've done the first time so that's over. Other than that I've basically just atrophied into a pool of lethargic goo.

In order to possibly insert some excitement into my otherwise boring existence this week, I have considered an invitation from Friend C to join her tonight at a bar in Cambridge. Innocent enough and I know you're thinking what's the big deal, just go to the bar. I agree, not a big deal, except, C is in Medical School and this is a Med school function.

This is C's second year in Med School so I've already been to several Med events and I have since decided I would rather rip off my fingernails than go to them. So the fact that I am considering going speaks VOLUMES for the type of week I'm having, or non-week, I should say.

Its not that the gatherings are bad, exactly. They are actually fun, or have the potential to be fun. They're always held at hip Boston bars or clubs, sometimes free food and drinks are involved, and there was the one I was dragged to around Christmas where this angry med student spit in the bartenders face and the proceeded to put his foot through a plate glass window. At least that was somewhat exciting for the moment.

Its the attendees of the parties that make them unbearable. They are all perfectly nice people individually, but together they become this frightening blob that can only talk about ONE THING. Before you know it you're surrounded by it and you can't escape, its suffocating you. You finally realize that you are drowning in a shallow pool of pretentious medical school speak. I can not blame them, for the most part it is their life, but its so boring to an outsider! I doubt they care about what anyone outside their exclusive circle thinks, but still. They have to be able to talk about something other than classes and school. They just can't relate to someone outside their circle.

I wonder how their bedside manner will be?

Its great when the ask me what year I am.

Med Student "What year are you?"

Me, "Oh I don't go here."

MS, "Oh," they are grasping for words, panic in their eyes. "What do you do?"

This is the best part! "I work in the arts, in non-profits." I smile my best smile and wait for it. By it I mean the blank stare. My profession could not bring me further from the world of a Med Student. I mean the majority of them are Type A, over achievers who have known they have wanted to be Doctors since they were small. Where as I am usually described as "not applying myself" (a fact I am aware of and completely at peace with.)

The conversation usually drops after that. Then I'm stuck wandering around, hoping not to look too much out of place, but never really succeeding. So I'm considering subjecting myself to this type of event, just to get out of the house.

I have been playing text tag with D about possibly getting together before he leaves Boston for good, but that's just producing a lot of empty promises. My Crush has been silent since the party, though I'm not surprised.

Confused yes, surprised, not so much.

Expectations

"He's not what I expected from you." slurred J, Saturday night at our house warming party.

My Crush had decided to grace me with his presence, along with two of his friends.

I squinted over to where he was standing with them, keg cups squashed in their hands, looking decidedly out of place. I paused.

"What were you expecting?" I tilted my head to the side to better focus on J's response. The party around us was making conversation very difficult.

"I'm not sure. Bigger?"

"He's tall!" I exclaimed.

"Yah, not that way bigger, just," He makes a sweeping motion across his shoulders. "You know."

"Muscular?" My Crush is somewhat on the thin side, but not bean-pole thin in the least bit.

"I guess I expected more like G or D." Again with the sweeping motion. I was glad at that point his beer was in his other hand.

"Yes, and those worked out great."

"I just don't see it."

"Hmmm, we'll see." I squinted over again, uneasy at his presence. Given that in about a half an hour J was going to pass out on his open phone with a beer in his hand and his shoes on, I took that conversation with a grain of salt.

My Crush did stay for a while and then left me high and dry with his friends. Granted I suppose he could not disappear on his friends, but still I was bit put out and left feeling a little confused on whether or not I actually wanted to pursue this little flirtation any further. I'm trying to decide if My Crush is not interested or just that clue-less!

Hello Crush! Drunk, cute, deprived girl here! You don't leave. If you have to leave, to say, drop off your two friends, then you come back!

I doubt I made the best impression on his friends seeing as by the time they got there I was about 10 Beer pong games deep, my feet were filthy, my hair a tangled mess and I had changed into my grey Army t-shirt to compliment my beer pong partner's grey Navy t-shirt.

The party was fun though. I was worried about the whole idea of mostly people I didn't know in and out of my place, drinking and being drunk, but the party was mostly confined to the back yard. A set up a tent and tables and a grill, and it was actually very civilized.

Yet again more hard evidence that we are definitely getting old.

ESP

I had to talk to someone last night, so I chose G. Well he was REALLY my only option, but still my first choice.

He answered with hello.

"Hi" I replied.

"You're depressed." Not a question, but a statement.

"No I'm not." I insisted without feeling.

"I can tell you are."

"You can tell by the word "Hi?"

"Yes."

"Well maybe I am, but I don't know why."

"See I knew it."

"Well aren't you just a flippin' genius!"

Of course I couldn't tell him what was really bothering me, yet another MIA boy. My Crush has been suspiciously absent since Monday.

I believe I've mentioned that I'm inpatient, right?

Fall Dreamin'

At the mall last night with Girl J, keeping her company while running some wedding errands like the good bridesmaid that I am, we were suddenly slapped in the face by Fall.

fall is by far my favorite season. As welcoming as spring can be after a long New England winter, it is also unpredictable and sometimes does not materialize at all. One day you're shivering in your snow boots and the next you are applying aloe for your third degree sunburn.

Fall is a different story. After feeling out of sorts for the last few days, it took me something as random as a Halloween display in Yankee Candle to lift the spirits. The bright orange candy corn candles alternating with the midnight black licorice candles just trigger a warm homey feeling that can only be associated with the fall.

I'm done with summer, burnt out. Summer is only for students and teachers, who actually get the time off to enjoy it. Not for pathetic office workers that get to stare at the beautiful weather through thick window pains, wishing that they could be at the beach, shivering in the air conditioning. Having to endure the comments of clients about "What a beautiful day it is today!"

I'm over it all. I'm bored and my feet are constantly either too hot or too cold. I'm looking forward to football and apple crisp, Halloween candy and flaming red leaves. I'm tired of the hum and clanking of my air conditioner and waking up with chapped lips. Yes , I'm definitely over the summer. Bring on the Fall!

Change! I need change! Even if it is only the weather.

Little Joys

I get my car back today! No more driving the soccer mom mobile that is my mom's Volvo Station wagon.

I love my car.

Its so non-descript. Its not flashy or new or eye catching, but its mine and it was the first purchase I had ever made that could be described as "adult." After three months of enduring the hour long bus ride to work, I had sufficiently saved enough to think about maybe purchasing a car. The bus wasn't that bad, but an hour commute is an hour commute, and the clientele could be somewhat shady. I did have a nice bus driver who one morning when I had switched to the bus stop a little further down the road exclaimed, "There you are! I was worried." That did warm the heart some. I felt almost guitly leaving the bus route.

Almost.

My boss at the time knew I was looking and knew of a woman from her church who was looking to get a new car and get rid of her old one. How much more trust worthy can you get. The woman was a church pianist!

Within four days I had insurance, a loan and finally a car. I didn't even have a chance to check out the car, even catch a glimpse of it, before I signed the papers. The car was mine. If someone didn't lead me to it I wouldn't have know which one it was. For some reason that didn't strike me as odd. That was how I lived in those days, as did my roommates: unsuitable men, $50 to our names before pay-day, riotous fights with each other, chugging boxed wine and dieting until our bodies begged for red meat.

I look back on myself in awe and disbelief. I'm amazed at our survival tactics, like we were playing at being grown up, but in a very real setting, three thousand miles from anything comforting and familiar. We all made it though. I don't talk to one of my roommates any more and the other is in Texas with her husband, I miss her. I feel we accomplished a very big part of growing up together.

The day my car payment booklet came and I remember flipping through it with a bit of despair. "September 2006." I thought, "I'll be paying this off forever!"

Time sure does fly!

We made it through a lot too, my little car and I. A trip up the Pacific Coast and then across country with the Driving Nazi (my ex, C. We almost left him in Des Moines.), our share of dings and accidents and way too many calls to AAA. Its a good little car, I got so much more than my money's worth.

Why I Hate Dating

1. I'm incredibly impatient.

2. I can be horribly insecure when it comes to guys.

3. I don't do well in uncomfortable situation, and I cover my discomfort with sarcasm.

4. I can never tell where a situation is heading.

5. I don't expect a guy to want to go out with me after more than two dates. (re. #2)

6. I never believe them when they say they'll call and even though I don't expect them call I still get cranky when they don't.

7. Even though a situation is going pretty much the way it should. I still don't think its going well enough.

8. I blush and never know the right thing to say.

9. I second-guess myself to death.

10. I'm never satisfied with my appearance and I can't concentrate on anything.

I know you're thinking get a life! So am I. This is an incredibly frustrating process.

Even though My Crush called me last night and we talked today, at work, and he said he would call me when he gets back from New York, where he's going to be until Wednesday, I still have no idea if this is going well or not!

God I frustrate myself! :)