We’re doing the Biggest Loser here at work again… the last time around I gave up around week 5 because people started trumping me and I wasn’t really doing anything to try to lose any weight. 

This time around it’s the 3rd week in and I’ve joined Weight Watchers’ On-line.  Today was weigh-in day and since the whole thing started I’m down 8 pounds!

Huzzah!

I also have a funny dating, or in this case, not dating story.   So, I was supposed to have brunch with this guy over the coming weekend.  We chatted on the phone last evening and conversation was flowing quite nicely, which I was pleasantly surprised by because his emails were nice, but… a little off.

Anyhoo, he asked me how long I’ve been doing the online dating thing and I explained my on and off again feelings about it.  “I’d rather meet someone after exchanging 1-2 emails so that we have things to talk about in person… also I feel that sometimes you can have the best conversations via email and on the phone but you can meet in person and there is ZILCH going on in the chemistry lab.”  He agreed with me and I continued on, “At the same time, you can go on a couple great dates and then find out the guy smokes weed which is a total deal-breaker for me.”  He was quiet for a moment and then said, “Hmm… perhaps we shouldn’t meet for brunch after all.”

Christ.

So I asked him if he smokes marijuana and he said, “occasionally.”  I said, “Can you define ‘occasionally’ for me?” He says, “Oh, I don’t know… 3-4 times per week?”

I don’t know about y’all out there, but 3-4 times per week of anything is not “occasionally” to me.  That’s “regularly” or “often”.  To me, an “occasional” user is someone who is at a party and takes a drag off something that’s being passed around.  If he’s smoking 3-4 times per week that means he has it in his house regularly and he’s buying it.  ”Occasionally” my ass.

So, needless to say, that date will not be happening.  I have a sentence in my profile that says something along the lines of “…you share my views on being pro-choice, anti-drug, and think that it’s stupid that more states don’t allow gay marriage.”  I’ve since edited it to clarify the anti-drug bit by saying ”if it’s illegal.. it’s a drug”.

The sick thing of this all is that I APOLOGIZED to him about not being able to have brunch with him.  WTF??  I should NOT be apologizing for having a stance on something, and in the future, I won’t.

But seriously, is every 30-something guy in the city a pot-head? Why have most of the guys I’ve run into online into the ONE thing I consider a deal-breaker?? 

Oh, but one more funny thing… I was telling RSG (Ride-Share-Guy) this story this morning and I said, “Does this make me have some conservative tendencies because I am so against marijuana? Am I less of a liberal because of this?”  RSG’s response was classic, “I don’t think so… I’m pretty sure half the country must have been stoned to re-elect Bush and you know the liberals didn’t do that.”

So, the butterflies.  When I came into work the following day after posting photos of Carl, I was right about Marie emerging overnight.  What I did not expect was to see Ellie and Isabelle also had emerged!  I could tell which one was Carl, as he only had one antennae, but as for the ladies… no clue who was who.  Clara… well, she was still in her chrysalis Wednesday morning but started to emerge around 9am:

Not knowing what to expect while watching a butterfly emerge (does it happen quickly?  Will it take a while?)  it was pretty interesting to see her push her way through.  I had gawking coworkers checking it out and we all marvelled at the miracle of nature.

Sadly though, Clara only half-way made it out of her chrysalis.  I kept checking her all day (visually) to see if she had dropped, but she remained attached.  The next morning she was in the same position I had left her in the previous night and that was that.

So, out of 6 caterpillars, 5 turned into chyrsalis’, and out of those 5, 4 turned into butterflies.  On Thursday afternoon a coworker of mine brought her 2 year old son over and we all went outside to release them together.  I picked each one up and each hung on for a moment before flying away.  It was really amazing to see!!

My thoughts are in London this morning.

Meet Carl:

Meet Carl’s sisters, who are still napping:

Why does a 30 year old woman have butterflies growing on her desk at work?  Probably because she never did this little science experiment as a kid.  Maybe it’s because I read about Rob and Schuyler watching their butterflies hatch and I wanted to be cool like them.  Maybe I needed to see something actually flourish to remind myself that things aren’t so bad.

Whatever the reason, this has got to be the coolest 25 bucks I’ve ever spent.  Could I have put that money elsewhere?  Perhaps.  Would it have made me smile so much?  Unlikely.

I expect that Marie is probably hatching (emerging?) as I type this, but since they are at work I won’t know til tomorrow.  My bets are on Ellie following suit, then Isabelle, and finally Clara.  If they don’t all emerge by end of work Thursday I’ll be bringing them home with me and perhaps setting them free on the 4th of July.  My own little version of fireworks bursting free in the sky.

So the guy I went on the second date with the other night?  Well, he and I were pretty good about being open about the whole match.com experience.  I mean, it’s sort of like The Bachelorette - you know she’s trying to get to know other guys but you have to just sort of focus on the one at hand.

Anyhow, I wanted to tell him about the long email that had me til weed but first I realized I hadn’t asked him where he stood on the issue.

Surprise! He smokes it too.  Not daily, he said, but enough that there’s usually stuff in the house.

Actually, it wasn’t horrible.. I mean, we continued on with the date as normal, he even kissed me at my door which was nice - but the next day all I could think of was this is a very hot-button issue for me.  I compromised my beliefs on it once, and was I willing to do it again?

No.

Don’t get me wrong, one of my best friends is a regular user of the stuff but to each their own.  I simply just do not want a romantic partner of mine to be one who enjoys having a stash of an illegal substance in their home because someday that could be my home and I just don’t like it.

I did end up adding a little note to my profile on match.  Can you believe they wouldn’t let me say that I was “not 420 friendly”?  hmph.

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”?

Earlier I was going so stir-crazy and it was only 6:30.  I decided to use that fancy keychain that allows me access into the gym I’m paying for and went for a swim.  I thought I’d last longer than I did, but I guess the point is that I went.

And now? Now I am settled in with Mystic Pizza (free movie on demand) a glass of the aforepictured wine (not the fancy feast though… it’s a little too salty for my taste) and I’m vegging on my sofa.

Sometimes, being single has its perks.  Sitting with a glass of wine and chlorinated hair? That’s just two of them.

(I have to say though, watching Mystic Pizza? Further encouragement to move back east someday.)

What a roller-coaster of a week.  Most if it I can’t even talk about here because I would say the words, “bat-shit crazy”, in regards to how I was feeling, far too much.

Buried my Great Aunt.  I held back sobbing tears, but did cry when I first saw her at the wake, and then when I was handed a crucifix and a rose to place atop her coffin at the services.  I also cried when the funeral procession took a left turn down the street I grew up on, which was also the same street she lived on for so many years. 

Spent time with the other half of my family.  Sitting at a table playing cards with my aunt and uncle and youngest cousin was both fun and funny.  It made me realize that the idea of moving back east someday? Not such a bad plan.

I’m emotionally drained, but I’m making a vow to myself to get out this weekend and to do a couple specific things in my apartment.  If there’s one thing this week taught me it’s that I need to live.  And I need to make sure that this life is the best life it could possibly be.

I leave you with a photo of a photo of my Great Aunt and I at her 90th Birthday party.  She was well, and I had one chin. 

I’m on a plane this afternoon to Massachusetts.  My Great Aunt passed away on Saturday morning.

I spent a good portion of the weekend on the phone crying to my mom for various reasons…  losing my Aunt, going through this “alone” (or without a boyfriend)… Not having the friends I thought I could lean on when this happened available…

I’m mourning the loss of my Great Aunt, but there’s more to my sadness than that.  I’ve got to pin-point what it is because I do not want to feel like this anymore. 

My “job” at the funeral will be to put the crucifix on the coffin in the church - I fear I’m going to drop it, or trip over my own feet when I walk up there.  My second cousin also asked if I wanted to say a few words at the service itself, but I’m not sure how to explain what my Great Aunt gave to me other than to say that I hope to lead half the life she did.   I hope some of her independence and fearless nature is tucked away inside of me and ready to come out. 

To say that I’ve been in a mood lately would be the understatement of the year.  I keep trying to remind myself of this lovely lyric:

All the people in your life who’ve come and gone
They let you down, you know they hurt your pride
Better put it all behind you; cause life goes on
You keep carrin’ that anger, it’ll eat you up inside

Said lyrics, The Heart of the Matter (Don Henley).  Admittedly I’ve been listening to the version by India Arie from the Sex and the City soundtrack.

Anyhow, anger eating me up inside - this is how I’ve really been over the past week or so.  Not entirely, but for a vast majority of the time I’ve just been so mad and pissed off at the world.  I wish to GOD I could pin this on an awful case of PMS, but it’s not that at all. 

While trying to explain this to a friend I told her that most of the things that were upsetting me were things that have always been - nothing has really changed, I’m not surprised by the actions or reactions of others around me but this week they have just been piercing holes in my brain and nom nom noming away. 

I’m hoping that a good bout of scrubbing and throwing shit around my house will help me get over this pent up frustration and anger.  I’ve made an explicit, step-by-step list of just what I should be doing around my apartment tonight.  Maybe cleaning my home will help me clean out my heart because right now it feels like this:

When really, it should be feeling something like this: