Archive for questions

The little details.

I got to thinking earlier today that parts of my life would be simpler if I was blogging/journaling on a frequent basis. 

I came to this conclusion while I was at my Chiropractor’s appointment today.  I’ve had this weird pain in my foot for “a while” now, but can’t quite remember when it started.  I know it wasn’t super long ago, but I know it was hurting before I had the car accident (which, is another story all together).  

By process of elimination, I have determined this strange foot pain started on June 18th.  Here’s the thing: had I actually been blogging I could have gone back and found the precise date I started bitching/whining about it.  Instead I had to flip through my dayplanner to find out when the accident was, check to see when I went to a concert, check to see when a birthday party I attended was… etc. etc. 

The mundane little details of my life aren’t important to everyone else, but this simple little aspect of yammering away online was once a very useful tool.  I wonder if I ought to get back to it?

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Have I found you, flightless bird?

My friend Jackie, whom I met at the So You Think You Can Dance tour, knows exactly what to say and/or what to point me towards pretty much every time I speak to her.   On New Year’s Day I was texting with her and telling her about my crying session at midnight when she asked me flat out why I felt like I needed a man in my life.  I thought about it for a moment, typed several things out and they all sounded trite.  She then sent me an article she got in her Daily OM about singlehood versus partnership.  The timing was impeccable; the article exactly what I needed.

I’ve been subscribing to the emails ever since.

The latest email from the OM talks about clearing space in your life… not hanging on to inanimate objects because you think you might like to see them again someday.  Again, right on the money.

See, I have this paper journal from the ‘days of the ex’.  I used it when I didn’t feel comfortable blogging online, even if I kept it private or friends-only.  I used to keep it out, I think now in the vain hope he’d snoop and read it and see how much some of the things he did really hurt my feelings – This book housed most of the things I should have opened my mouth about in the 5 years we were dating.

And I still have it.  And yes, I’ve flipped through it from time to time and it still hurts to read every word on those pages.   Is it worth keeping?  Do I need to hang on to this book that houses nothing but negativity?  Is simply having it under my roof giving me bad juju?  I’ve pictured myself going to the concrete steps of the harbor with a lighter and just allowing it to burn onto itself (with hopes nothing else catches fire around and I get arrested for arson or something ridiculous like that), but I can’t seem to bring myself to do it.

I’ve contemplated mailing it to him- as a these are the things I never said gesture, but I certainly know better than that.  And I know for a fact the exercise would be lost on him and I’d end up hurt.

In resolving to once and for all put him behind me (and, let’s face it… a big part of why he’s still even in the picture is there hasn’t been another “boyfriend” since he and I broke up… I’d almost welcome a brief one just so I can stop calling him “the ex”) should I let the most painful of my memories go up in smoke?  It’s not like if those words disappear from physical form they’ll also disappear from my brain…

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Are you listening?

I am longing to be in love.

There.  I said it.

Come on, universe… throw someone good at me.  I’m convinced my soulmate (if there is such a thing) is not sitting out there on match.com or eharmony or any of those sites.  He’s not some former lover who I look at through rose-colored glasses. 

I wish I knew where the heck he was because everyone keeps telling me to stop looking for him and he’ll find me.  What if people are telling him to stop looking too?

Hear me
I’m cryin’ out
I’m ready now
Turn my world upside down
Find me

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The great unknown.

“What do you want?”

A simple question with a very complicated answer.  Made even more complicated when you have two different ways you think you want your life to be and the sheer terror of choosing the wrong path leaves you feeling incomplete and uncertain.

In what I am now calling my “therapy sessions” (really they are calls to my bff in Florida), we discussed this whole want business and I came to a couple conclusions:

1. I still have a strong pull to the northeast.  When I do imagine my life in the grandest of senses, I’m living somewhere either in Mass or Rhode Island – but within a couple hours of my paternal family. 

2. This pull makes me feel guilty in a sense that I’m not feeling a pull to move to the northwest to be with my maternal family.  However, I also realize that maybe the reason there isn’t a strong pull is because I am on the phone with my mother on an almost daily basis already and because there is strain with the rest of my family there.  It’s not that I don’t want to resolve said strain, but it’s more like it’s just easier to avoid conflict than throw myself into it, if that makes sense.

3. I don’t know what this pull does to what I should be doing with my so-called love-life here in Chicago.  If I’m not planning to leave the area for another couple years it would make sense not to get involved with someone, but what if it happens?  I mean, it’s super easy to say, “I can’t see you because…”, but could I be turning down experiences I should be having?  What if I move to say, Boston, and I’m miserable and want to come back to Chicago?

4. The big answer to “What do you want?” cannot be put into words right now, mostly because of that dual-path thing.  In the simplest of terms, one path has me married with children, the other path has me working a fabulous career and traveling the world.  It’s not to say there’s not a happy middle, but… one does make the other less likely.

When I said I was seeking clarity and a chance to be introspective on my upcoming trip to Florida, BFF was quick to point out that was exactly what I was looking for last time.  What he doesn’t realize is that I FOUND some clarity during my last trip.  I realized not all men are scum-sucking pigs and there are men out there who are truly faithful.  Hell, if I hadn’t gone to Florida I wouldn’t of had the guts to speak my mind when things needed to be said.  I’d still be sitting here, pretending that it’s ok for me to be walked upon.

Maybe this trip will help me solve the answer to the biggest question on the table – What DO I want??

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I’m like a bird…

Despite the fact I have Liz Phair singing in my ears at the moment, I still have an old Nelly Furtado song stuck in my head.  Ever have one of those moments where you’ve heard a song over and over but suddenly the lyrics make a little more sense?

I’m like a bird,
I’ll only fly away…
I don’t know where my soul is,
I don’t know where my home is…

Hearing this song reminded me of this thing ex-m sent me once from this massive birthday book he has (which, I’ve also been hovering over the ’1-click-purchase’ button on my amazon wishlist all morning for said book).  Anyhow, this book breaks down astrology to the exact day you were born and explains your traits, who you’re compatible with, and what your biggest weaknesses are.   I had to go way back in my email archives to find it, but here’s the line that stood out and how it related to Nelly Furtado up there:

Feb 28 people are regarded with deep affection by others, especially since they regard others positively, wish to please and entertain those around them and, moreover, harbor no ulterior motives. They may often find it is difficult to stay committed in their personal relationships, however.

It sort of brings me to another point I wanted to bring up: the difference between someone who cheated once and someone who is a cheat (that deserves a blog alone)…  but what does it say about me if I’ve been on the other end of that cheating fence?  In otherwords – I’ve been the one who people in committed relationships have come to and in some cases, I’ve given in and been the other woman.   Is it a “Pisces thing”, for lack of a better term, that I’ve allowed myself to be the other woman but never THE woman because I cannot commit to anything for too long?

And yet, funny enough, commitment is what I’ve been looking for in someone else.  

My mom used to get frustrated with me because I’d be all gung-ho to go somewhere then once we got there I’d start bugging her about where we were going next.  My own best friend said to me, “You could be sitting on a patch of the greenest grass ever.  It’s a gorgeous day outside.  You’re peaceful,  grinning,  content.  A few minutes pass and you start looking around and say, “Hey.. that patch of grass 5 feet away is pretty green.. I should go sit on it.”

You’re lovely but it’s not for sure
That I won’t ever change…

I’m a confused little bird, that’s for sure.

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Same Difference?

I pose a question to the general public out there – is there a difference between “I wish I had…” and “I regret…”?

 

This being a crazy emotional month, I keep saying things like “I wish I had done X differently…” and to me it sounds a little too regretful.  I mean, had I handled certain situations differently my past would not have shaped my current in the way it has.  Who’s to say life would have been better if I had done some of the things I’m pondering these days?

The ultimate goal is to never regret… but yet you learn lessons by doing the things you do… so what is the difference and how do you stop dwelling on the steps you took before?

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Just say no.

I don’t know if I mentioned it here yet, but match.com has sucked me in for another 3 months.  So far I’ve only been out on one date (second with same guy to happen this evening), but I’ve passed a couple emails back and forth with some other guys.

Today, one guy in particular, winked at me (match’s way of saying “hey.. I dig you but I’m not emailing you yet”) and I wrote him a quick little note in return.  He replied back with a rather lengthy email that had me giggling, smiling, and thinking he was really awesome until one teeny, tiny admittance:

What I mean is this: yes, I like a lot of hippie cultural touchstones (the music, the film, the style of dress) and, yes, I smoke weed. Without shame. It should be legal and anyone with half a wit knows it.

Oy.

My ex was a fairly regular smoker of marijuana.  I fought with him pretty hard about it at the beginning, and especially after he got into a little bit of trouble for getting caught with it.  I didn’t want it in my house, I didn’t want to see it, I didn’t want him smoking it.  It was a major source of many, many fights.

He had all but stopped when we moved up here and then we met the Muffin Lady.  And then, after she was arrested, smoking just came naturally again.

Now I don’t want to turn this into a post about him so here’s the bit about me: I hate pot.  I’ve tried it twice (well, I did muffins twice… I tried smoking it once or twice in Florida to no avail) and both times I felt like I was going to die.  I mean, serious bout of panic set in the first time that no amount of food or anything could cure.  I could feel every heart beat and I just felt ill.  I could not understand why people would willingly do this to themselves – on a regular basis.

But I have no real reason to hate it… it’s not like I don’t have my own vices to get me through the day – I think we all do.  (Mine just happen to be legal, and prescribed by my doctor.)  I also don’t want anything to do with pot or being around it because my work does drug testing.  I don’t know if they’d ever spontaneously do a test, but I’m not willing to be at a party where people are smoking and risk my kick-ass job to find out. 

To each their own I suppose, but does it make me a bad person to say that I’ll probably reply to this guy’s email with, “You had me til you said weed”?

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Can anyone translate this?

So, there’s this little boardwalk path in North East Palm Bay (Florida) that my best friend and I took a walk down yesterday.  New, since the last time I had been there, were all these carved messages in the planks.  I’m positive it’s a donated sort of thing – most were messages saying In Loving Memory Of… but there were a few that stood out:

I hope Priscilla said yes. 

This other one though… here’s where I need your help.   What do you suppose this means?

You are my soap.  The hopeless romantic in me says, “aww!” but I have NO idea what they are implying!! I’m sure it’s an inside joke… maybe someone once had a sordid past and Fawn helped Keith clean up his act?  Either way, it made me pause, ponder, and photograph it.  What do you suppose it means?

 

The trip was a success, work-wise, I think.  I guess I’ll find out for sure tomorrow. 

Emotionally… the trip took it’s toll on me.  I am thankful to have wonderful friends to lean on and especially greatful to one in particular who can bring me away from my tears and into laughter in a matter of seconds.  Of course, the way he did this was by telling me I look like a manatee, but… whatever.

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Closet germophobe?

I wonder if someone out there can tell me the rules as to when a phlebotomist is doing their thing at what point they should put on gloves?

I’ll start by saying perhaps I have a skewed view on this, or maybe it’s just that I go to a super professional tattoo/piercing shop.  I’ve been to this place several times and I would say during the prep phase alone, each artist has changed their gloves at least 5-6 times.  They put on new gloves every time they go to touch an instrument, bottle of ink, tape, etc etc.  Oh, and lest we forget, they wash their hands for a good few minutes before starting it all too – by the time they put the needle to the skin, I’m pretty sure they’ve cleaned through a few layers of their own.

So,  this image of a tattoo parlor remains in my head every time I go to the doctor’s office and have to get blood drawn because I expect that if a tattoo parlor is THAT anal about cleanliness, a doctor’s office should be too – right?

Let me tell you how things went down today:

So I sat in the little chair thingie and I explained to the phlebotomist that I have had blood drawn several times and know the odds are higher from the veins in my hands than they are from my elbow-pits.  (When I was in the hospital for the blood clot they drew blood every 6 hours, for 4 days straight.  I think I know a thing or two about my veins.) She begins to prepare things – needle, blood catcher, gauze, alcohol, band-aid – all without the use of gloves.

She puts on the gloves, grabs the tourniquet and ties off midway down my left arm.  She starts to feel around for a few minutes and then I hear a snap – she has purposely ripped off part of the glove at tip of her index finger.  (insert quizzical look here)  Not convinced that there’s a good vein on my left hand she moves to my right.  She finds a vein, takes the alcohol pad and wipes the area off (with her half gloved, half not hand) and sticks.  It hurts.  Abnormally so.  Instead of continuing, she stops because, “you’re swelling”.  When she pulls the needle out, more blood than I have ever seen in a routine blood test spits out.  She puts the gauze AND the alcohol pad on the spot, asks me to hold it down, and throws a band-aid over it.

She then asks if she can see my arms anyhow and I show her where one person had relative success with a vein.  She goes for that one – nothing comes out.

Thankfully, another phlebotomist walked in the room around that time and my tech asked if she could give it a try.  The first failed vampire lady with the exposed finger set everything up for the second phlebotomist and then walked away.  While I was left alone in the room for a minute I contemplated asking her what the rules were with regards to gloves.  I wondered if there was any way I could tell her about miss no-gloved pointer without her hearing…

The new tech walks in and I explain my hand veins again and she looks at my left hand and thinks she knows where to stick.  She ties off my hand at the wrist (weird), and then proceeds to do the blood test WITHOUT ANY GLOVES AT ALL. 

I was in a debate on if I should speak up or if I was just being paranoid but again- if a tattoo parlor is so concerned about keeping clean, shouldn’t a doctor’s office have a higher standard or at the very least the SAME standard??

For the record, I never saw either one of the phlebotomists wash their hands.

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State of Love and Trust.

An old acquaintance of mine emailed me yesterday to catch up on things.  A good ol’ Hey. How are you? What’s new in your world? sort of thing.  Not wanting to divulge a ton of information (hell, half of it is out here on the ‘net, right?) I kept things to a minimum but noticed baiting sentences from their end.  Things like I can’t even begin to sum up how the past year has been and So much has happened…  I finally suggested they just pick a subject and go with it.  One of the first tidbits they decided to share was they recently got engaged.

Now, this news in itself didn’t get me thinking – quite honestly, I expected that’s why I was getting the sudden what’s up email in the first place.  No.  What got me thinking was that they decided to send this email from an account other than one they use on a daily basis.  Why?  Basically to just avoid the drama that might ensure if said person was “caught” talking to me by their new fiance.

And that’s about the point where I started to laugh.  How can two people start a life together when they can’t even be honest about who they are talking to? 

Now, before you start introducing me to the black kettle, I know some of you who knew me during the whole 5-year thing are thinking about how I was quite possibly one of the most jealous people on earth and I probably would have been livid if I had found my ex talking to another person (former friend, ex, whatever) while we were together – but I had reason to doubt him.  Our relationship was never built on trust and I know that is a horrible thing to say but believe me when I say it was even more horrible to live it.  Said ex was never one for divulging more than he had to and this broke us up more than once – and those instances were only the times I actually caught him in a lie… who knows what else happened behind his closed doors.

But back to this random email… I only know my former acquaintance – I have no idea who they are engaged to or what they know of me because it would have been up to said acquaintance to dish.  So, who is it this email person doesn’t trust?  Their new fiance, or themselves?

….I’d like to say remind me to never be that person who is stuck in an distrusting situation, but you know what?  I never will be.  Not again.

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