Yesterday was one of the most emotionally difficult days of my life.
The first half of the day was the end of an amazing weekend with my new relationship - the first beginning of real relationship since the divorce. The first time I've ventured out beyond some quick fun. And the last half of the day was with my first love. The one I started falling for on my 17th birthday and never really got over.
In some odd quirk of life, the two events - the old and the new - met in harmony on the same day.
The entire weekend, I felt like my soul was exposed. I think I hid it well. During my new friend's visited, I focused completely on him. It was hard to keep from being distracted, but we had an amazing visit. The two of us get along so well. We shopped for things to decorate his new place and went out at night. And we stayed in too - catching me up on Breaking Bad season 1 just in time for the series to end, and the sex was really nice. We're comfortable with each other. He's easy going and gets along with most anyone. I like us together.
There were about two hours between visits - just enough time to try to pull myself together emotionally. But how do you prepare for a visit with your first love that you haven't seen since your honeymoon and who's now married and you're not?
Throughout the evening, I did my best to focus on the moment and not let my head go anywhere else. I picked him up from the airport and took him to his hotel. We had dinner and drinks afterwards until jet lag set in. The conversation never lagged. We talked about our visits with each other and caught up on the past decade-plus since we saw each other last. I asked him if he's happy and he said yes.
Today I'm an emotional wreck. Scattered. I try to concentrate on my work but end up staring out the window or pacing from one end of my little loft to the other. I'm filled with questions - all of the ones I wanted to ask last night but couldn't. Why do you want to spend every minute you're not sleeping or working with me? Does your wife know you're seeing me? Why do you really not want to see my sister - your good friend who lives 10 minutes from your hotel? Have you held on to that love all these years like I have?
Depending on the responses, I might get closure. I can handle it if he has totally moved on. On the other hand, his answers could leave me even more vulnerable. I have a hunch he still has feelings for me. If I hear it from him, my heart will break.
So I won't ask.
I added more time onto my jog this morning to burn off the tension, but that didn't work either. I'll try to make myself work and then write. But perhaps staring out the window is better.
Seeing my first love helped me realize something I've struggled with. For years I've wondered if I've changed - why I habitually pick the wrong guys. He reminded me that I haven't. I knew then who the right guys were and where to find them. I just seem to pick the wrong ones.
I'll see him at least once or twice before he goes back to home to Europe on Thursday, so the drama isn't over yet.
Love to the single girls,
Addison
Monday, September 30, 2013
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Do you have a narcissist in your life?
They do always make your life hell.
I didn't know my ex was a narcissist until I saw a therapist. I needed to figure out where I went wrong - and how to get out of it alive. After I told her about him and our relationship, she pegged his behavior as classic narcissism.
She recommended a book called Malignant Self Love: Narcissism Revisited by Sam Vaknin that changed my life. It’s
such a great book because it’s not written in medical terms since it’s by a PhD
who’s not a mental health professional but is a narcissist. It’s written so
that each chapter answers a frequently asked question. A few of the chapters dedicated to a question are:
How to Recognize a Narcissist
The Narcissist in the Workplace
The Spouse/Mate/Partner of the Narcissist
Narcissists and Children
The Extra-Marital Narcissist
Surviving the Narcissist
But there are 101 frequently asked questions. Yes, 101. There's a chapter for every situation you can think of. There are excerpts from the book on PDF on Smashwords. Amazon has a Kindle edition and the paperback.
Over the weekend, I shared the book title with two friends over lunch. Both have narcissistic brother-in-laws. I got an email back from one of them today that gave me chills. She passed it along to her sister who got it right away and found it helpful. Her sister's ex left her a voice mail at her office threatening to run her over. Fortunately they live in different states, but that doesn't make it any less frightening. Her sister called her the night before because she was having an anxiety attack. She felt like someone had been following her. Then that message from her ex was waiting for her when she arrived at work.
One of the friends asked me why I let the marriage go on so long. I told her I was afraid to leave. The other friend, the one whose sister got the book, said she was amazed with the similarities in her sister's and my situation.
The book explained so many mysteries for me and helped me leave. I hope it does for you.
Love to the single girls,
Addison
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
The truest test - seeing my first love
This morning I woke up to a text that was a shocker. It was from someone I've known since high school. The one I wrote about the other day as my something borrowed. My storybook first love.
He's going to be in town on business next week.
We met in a pub in England when I was celebrating my 17th birthday with my friends. He was very cute, and at the time he was 21. He and I, along with my sister and his friend, hung out as good friends the rest of the eight months we were there. Over the next two years, he visited the U.S. twice and our relationship grew to a romance. I was young and inexperienced and he was gorgeous and English. Why wouldn't I fall for him?
I still have the vivid memory of us standing in the hallway outside the bathroom in my parents' house. He wrapped his arms around me and we kissed. Then he said, "I love you." That wasn't the last time he said it. I hung onto those words even though the Atlantic Ocean and marriages kept us apart. I even wrote him as the love interest in my first novel.
I told my friend about it this morning. She suggested I should be on the other side of the United States. "You don't need that drama!!" she said.
To add to the drama, he arrives at the end of my new guy's first weekend visit - the one I really like. The whole scenario makes me want to stay inside the safe walls of my little loft with Lucy until then. I'm not sure I can handle what will happen over the next week, so any new drama and I'll be an emotional basket case.
My English friend and I are still friends and keep in touch by text, email and phone calls a few times a year. We've seen each other twice since my teens. Once I visited him and his wife alone. The next time was my honeymoon more than a decade ago. His wife is much nicer to me when I'm married. Actually, I think she despises me when I'm single.
My friend also said, "This has heartbreak written all over it!!!" She's right. I can't wait to see him, but avoiding the broken heart will be one of the hardest things I've ever done.
Love to the single girls,
Addison
He's going to be in town on business next week.
We met in a pub in England when I was celebrating my 17th birthday with my friends. He was very cute, and at the time he was 21. He and I, along with my sister and his friend, hung out as good friends the rest of the eight months we were there. Over the next two years, he visited the U.S. twice and our relationship grew to a romance. I was young and inexperienced and he was gorgeous and English. Why wouldn't I fall for him?
I still have the vivid memory of us standing in the hallway outside the bathroom in my parents' house. He wrapped his arms around me and we kissed. Then he said, "I love you." That wasn't the last time he said it. I hung onto those words even though the Atlantic Ocean and marriages kept us apart. I even wrote him as the love interest in my first novel.
I told my friend about it this morning. She suggested I should be on the other side of the United States. "You don't need that drama!!" she said.
To add to the drama, he arrives at the end of my new guy's first weekend visit - the one I really like. The whole scenario makes me want to stay inside the safe walls of my little loft with Lucy until then. I'm not sure I can handle what will happen over the next week, so any new drama and I'll be an emotional basket case.
My English friend and I are still friends and keep in touch by text, email and phone calls a few times a year. We've seen each other twice since my teens. Once I visited him and his wife alone. The next time was my honeymoon more than a decade ago. His wife is much nicer to me when I'm married. Actually, I think she despises me when I'm single.
My friend also said, "This has heartbreak written all over it!!!" She's right. I can't wait to see him, but avoiding the broken heart will be one of the hardest things I've ever done.
Love to the single girls,
Addison
It's got to be a sign
The funniest most bizarre thing happened yesterday morning while I walked through the parking garage to my client's offices. My shoe broke.
That by itself isn't that funny. What's so bizarre is that almost exactly one year ago I was with this same client wearing these same shoes and the heel broke. I was at their conference and I popped a balloon with my heel as a part of a breakout session activity. I wrote about it last year in I popped a balloon and became Cinderella.
I replaced those shoes with the same style and color, but the only pair close to my size at Nordstrom worldwide was a half size larger. One of the replacements was the shoe that broke today.
These aren't cheap shoes. They're Michael Kors and cost in the $150 range. And I have four pairs in different colors because I like them so much.
Now I can't help but wonder if this is a sign. This is my least favorite client and my favorite shoes, so perhaps the relationship is breaking at the very foundation - the soles of shoes. Perhaps it's time to move on. Or it just means I should wear different shoes.
The story has a happy ending. The shoe that broke last year was the left and today it was the right. Since I kept the good one, I now have a pair again. And I haven't popped a balloon with a heel since.
Love to the single girls,
Addison
Monday, September 23, 2013
Something old, something new, something borrowed . . .
This old saying isn't just for brides. I know because I woke up this lovely Monday morning to texts from three guys from various chapters of my life - something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue (well not yet on the last one, but it's a matter of time).
My something old was a text from an long-time lover - the one I've written about many times (most recently in Resolve). He had a significant role in helping me gather the confidence and courage to leave my ex. I'm forever grateful to him for that. But, until his drive-by text early this morning, I hadn't heard from him in a month and that makes me sad. He said in the text, "Just thinkin about u." I do miss him though.
My something old was a text from an long-time lover - the one I've written about many times (most recently in Resolve). He had a significant role in helping me gather the confidence and courage to leave my ex. I'm forever grateful to him for that. But, until his drive-by text early this morning, I hadn't heard from him in a month and that makes me sad. He said in the text, "Just thinkin about u." I do miss him though.
Something new is the guy I met a few weeks ago when he came down to help my good friend move. Meeting him was the only good thing that came out of her move to the next state. He texted about his next visit - hopefully this weekend.
Something borrowed is an interesting situation. He's my first love. I met him on my seventeenth birthday when I lived in England, and we've kept in touch ever since, but typically not more than once every few months. I've visited twice - once alone and once with my ex. Our friendship has survived my many loves and breakups. He married the woman he met after me - happily, I don't know. Now they have two kids. That's why I consider him borrowed. I have a HUGE update on this one that I'll post about soon. The text did something odd and I didn't receive what he actually sent. It's a shocker.
My blue hasn't happened yet, but I suspect it will soon when my bad date guy texts next. He doesn't seem to get that our date was a disaster, so he keeps texting and I keep being busy. I'm blue when I get this texts and he's probably blue when I don't respond. Well, maybe not.
Love to the single girls,
Addison
P.S. My blue did actually happen yesterday afternoon, but it wasn't from bad date guy. It was a text out of the blue from a guy I met very briefly walking down the sidewalk in my neighborhood. I'm not sure why I gave him my number. I was tired and in a rush and just did. He's texted one a week or so for a month now without any response from me.
Love to the single girls,
Addison
P.S. My blue did actually happen yesterday afternoon, but it wasn't from bad date guy. It was a text out of the blue from a guy I met very briefly walking down the sidewalk in my neighborhood. I'm not sure why I gave him my number. I was tired and in a rush and just did. He's texted one a week or so for a month now without any response from me.
Lost identity
Over the weekend, I got to do something I love with people I enjoy. We were all fiction writers who came together to learn. Our companies didn't pay our way and we all gave up valuable weekend time to learn. We were there because we wanted to be.
Being there made me think about all of the people who give up things they used to enjoy when they were single but quit doing them once they had family commitments. Jobs, careers, daily exercise - or other things they're really committed to like music, art or writing. Some had to drop things they love because they honestly din't have time. It's all about priorities, and many girls can scale back on their children's activities so mommy can have a life.
What really breaks my heart is when I see a single girls settle into a relationship with a boyfriend and completely adapt to the boyfriend's life. Their schedule. Their hobbies. Their friends rarely see them and suddenly the brilliant painter has stopped painting to take up golf. "He wants us to do it together" or "He doesn't like it when I'm away from him." she'll say.
Sometimes it was a hobby but sometimes it was a career. But why? Why does any girl have to stop doing something they feel is important just because someone else suggests they do? Just because someone may not be getting enough attention?
Doing what you love is the best way to keep your identity - and your happiness.
Love to the single girls,
Addison
Being there made me think about all of the people who give up things they used to enjoy when they were single but quit doing them once they had family commitments. Jobs, careers, daily exercise - or other things they're really committed to like music, art or writing. Some had to drop things they love because they honestly din't have time. It's all about priorities, and many girls can scale back on their children's activities so mommy can have a life.
What really breaks my heart is when I see a single girls settle into a relationship with a boyfriend and completely adapt to the boyfriend's life. Their schedule. Their hobbies. Their friends rarely see them and suddenly the brilliant painter has stopped painting to take up golf. "He wants us to do it together" or "He doesn't like it when I'm away from him." she'll say.
Sometimes it was a hobby but sometimes it was a career. But why? Why does any girl have to stop doing something they feel is important just because someone else suggests they do? Just because someone may not be getting enough attention?
Doing what you love is the best way to keep your identity - and your happiness.
Love to the single girls,
Addison
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Staring
The other night I sat alone for a while writing at a cafe on a somewhat busy street corner. It was evening commute time. At the same time, pedestrians were busy with their evening jogs and dog walks. The sidewalks and streets buzzed with activity.
What fascinated me was watching people in the cars stare at people jogging and walking their dogs. Car after car turned the corner and, as the drivers stared, their tires scraped the curb or they barely missed the car facing them waiting to turn. To add to the chaos, a few talked on their phone while they stared - and tried to drive. Those people were a real disaster.
I sat there and laughed. When my friend arrived, he didn't notice, but I pointed out each driver who stared.
Why does it take so little to catch someone's stare? Do they think we don't notice? Are we that starved for entertainment? Do we have to have visual stimulation every second? How would they feel if that girl being gawked at was their girl friend or wife or daughter? Or maybe they're all so obnoxious they don't have any girls in their lives.
Then the next morning while I jogged, a truckload of landscapers drove up the street next to me. The truck moved exactly at my speed - and I only do about 6.4 mph - not exactly the speed a truck would normally drive. They did this for about two blocks. I refused to look over. One time they even stopped when they got ahead of me. That one was beyond annoying. It was just plain creepy.
Love to to the single girls,
Addison
What fascinated me was watching people in the cars stare at people jogging and walking their dogs. Car after car turned the corner and, as the drivers stared, their tires scraped the curb or they barely missed the car facing them waiting to turn. To add to the chaos, a few talked on their phone while they stared - and tried to drive. Those people were a real disaster.
I sat there and laughed. When my friend arrived, he didn't notice, but I pointed out each driver who stared.
Why does it take so little to catch someone's stare? Do they think we don't notice? Are we that starved for entertainment? Do we have to have visual stimulation every second? How would they feel if that girl being gawked at was their girl friend or wife or daughter? Or maybe they're all so obnoxious they don't have any girls in their lives.
Love to to the single girls,
Addison
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
I'm afraid to listen
Last night I got a text from the guy I had the disastrous date with weekend before last.
"Hi there!" the text said.
I didn't respond because I was in the middle of dinner with my friend. Okay, I probably wouldn't have responded anyway. To rationalize it, the text didn't ask a question or really need a response. Right?
Then he texted again first thing this morning. It was the first contact (besides a few emails delivered during the night) I had with a human today.
This one said "Good morning :)"
This one didn't ask a question or really need a response. And I dove into work as soon as I woke up anyway - too busy for personal stuff. But then about 45 minutes later, he called. I watched my phone ring. His name was splashed across the screen, and I ignored it. He left a voice message and I'm afraid to listen to it.
I thought I could let it sit for a bit while I did some work and then I'd be okay listening. Then after my run I'd listen. I didn't, and I still haven't. I don't like confrontation. And I certainly don't like telling someone I'm not interested in them. But I also don't like lying to him about why I don't want to see him - or even communicate with him. He's clueless the evening was a disaster, and I have a hunch he won't go away easily.
Maybe writing this will make be brave enough to listen. I'll update this when (and if) I listed to it. Promise.
Love to the single girls,
Addison
P.S. So I listened to the message. He wanted to make sure I got the texts and said he'd call me tonight. So...what to say...
"Hi there!" the text said.
I didn't respond because I was in the middle of dinner with my friend. Okay, I probably wouldn't have responded anyway. To rationalize it, the text didn't ask a question or really need a response. Right?
Then he texted again first thing this morning. It was the first contact (besides a few emails delivered during the night) I had with a human today.
This one said "Good morning :)"
This one didn't ask a question or really need a response. And I dove into work as soon as I woke up anyway - too busy for personal stuff. But then about 45 minutes later, he called. I watched my phone ring. His name was splashed across the screen, and I ignored it. He left a voice message and I'm afraid to listen to it.
I thought I could let it sit for a bit while I did some work and then I'd be okay listening. Then after my run I'd listen. I didn't, and I still haven't. I don't like confrontation. And I certainly don't like telling someone I'm not interested in them. But I also don't like lying to him about why I don't want to see him - or even communicate with him. He's clueless the evening was a disaster, and I have a hunch he won't go away easily.
Maybe writing this will make be brave enough to listen. I'll update this when (and if) I listed to it. Promise.
Love to the single girls,
Addison
P.S. So I listened to the message. He wanted to make sure I got the texts and said he'd call me tonight. So...what to say...
Leaf blowers
I've never really understood the purpose for using leaf blowers. All they do is blow leaves and grass clippings off of one piece of property onto another or into the street. Unless someone picks up what's being blown around they just move stuff from one place to another.
Then it hit me this morning while I watched workers blowing leaves. Some people are just like leaf blowers.
They blow their drama, their problems and egos around transferring them from one place to another but never making them go away.
Then it hit me this morning while I watched workers blowing leaves. Some people are just like leaf blowers.
They blow their drama, their problems and egos around transferring them from one place to another but never making them go away.
Some people I know use girls night as a therapy session. They create drama and problems in their lives then it all gets spread around to other people. If a person's not going to solve their own problem, how can someone else do it for them? Seriously?
The other day, a woman who had committed to take part in the event I'm in charge of backed out. She got her big-girl panties all twisted up because she wasn't getting enough attention. She blew her ego around so much that she ended up packing up her toys and going home.
Bye-bye.
I don't understand these people or how they get away with blowing their bullshit from one place to another rather than cleaning it up themselves.
Love to the single girls,
Addison
The other day, a woman who had committed to take part in the event I'm in charge of backed out. She got her big-girl panties all twisted up because she wasn't getting enough attention. She blew her ego around so much that she ended up packing up her toys and going home.
I don't understand these people or how they get away with blowing their bullshit from one place to another rather than cleaning it up themselves.
Love to the single girls,
Addison
Monday, September 16, 2013
Stuck in a moment
Over the weekend I watched an episode of Dr. Who, and there's one scene that stuck with me.
The land's emperor asked his doctor for the time. The doctor answers that it's 5:02 p.m. It also happens to be April 22, 2011. And it's this same date and time, day or night, every day. When the emperor questions why, the doctor says, "It's always been the same. Why should it start bothering me now?"
I'll tell you why. Because if you're stuck in the same date and time for eternity, it's just wrong. For god's sake, question it.
I know this is an extreme example, and sci-fi too, but we do it all the time.
We accept things that are just wrong.
We go to a dead-end job or return home to a douchebag partner or stay satisfied with our unhealthy habits every day. Why? Because it seems easier to stay in a bad place than to change.
Prying yourself out of that uncomfortable, bad place is hard. It took me more than three years to get the nerve to leave my ex - and I'm not a timid person. I know now that if I had stayed, I would've been a physical, emotional and mental basket case. Or dead.
I found it easier to start small and then plan. First you have to fully commit to yourself that you're going to change your job, your guy or whatever. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks - only you. Then get things in order and start making it happen one step at a time.
In that Dr. Who episode, all of history was happening at once. Pterodactyls flew around a park while modern kids played. Roman Centurions guarded streets filled with cars. And futuristic villains were after the good guys. Think about whichever rotten situation you need to change and imagine if every awful thing about it happened in one day. In one moment. Like a needle stuck on a record as they said in the show.
That picture might be enough to make you want to get unstuck.
Love to the single girls,
Addison
The land's emperor asked his doctor for the time. The doctor answers that it's 5:02 p.m. It also happens to be April 22, 2011. And it's this same date and time, day or night, every day. When the emperor questions why, the doctor says, "It's always been the same. Why should it start bothering me now?"
I'll tell you why. Because if you're stuck in the same date and time for eternity, it's just wrong. For god's sake, question it.
I know this is an extreme example, and sci-fi too, but we do it all the time.
We accept things that are just wrong.
We go to a dead-end job or return home to a douchebag partner or stay satisfied with our unhealthy habits every day. Why? Because it seems easier to stay in a bad place than to change.
Prying yourself out of that uncomfortable, bad place is hard. It took me more than three years to get the nerve to leave my ex - and I'm not a timid person. I know now that if I had stayed, I would've been a physical, emotional and mental basket case. Or dead.
I found it easier to start small and then plan. First you have to fully commit to yourself that you're going to change your job, your guy or whatever. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks - only you. Then get things in order and start making it happen one step at a time.
In that Dr. Who episode, all of history was happening at once. Pterodactyls flew around a park while modern kids played. Roman Centurions guarded streets filled with cars. And futuristic villains were after the good guys. Think about whichever rotten situation you need to change and imagine if every awful thing about it happened in one day. In one moment. Like a needle stuck on a record as they said in the show.
That picture might be enough to make you want to get unstuck.
Love to the single girls,
Addison
Sunday, September 15, 2013
Up
Two things happened over the last week that had an interesting intersection.
First, I've been putting together a music play list for an event I'm running. The play list theme is motivating songs that have to do with flying. There are tons of classic and new songs that fit the theme like Fly by Nicki Minaj and Rihanna, Learning to Fly by Pink Floyd (or the Tom Petty version), Fly Away by Lenny Kravitz, Gonna Fly Now (the Rocky theme) and I Believe I Can Fly by R Kelly. Check out a few of them and see where your spirits go.
Then I had to sit in a classroom for a full day to be trained on one of my clients' new brand. The company hired consultants to help them rebrand. The new and improved focus is more on customers (really?). And the approach is all very positive and looks to the future rather than leading off with scare tactics and what may have happened in the past in any spoken or written communication.
Then the two consultants told us we should use "up" words because they project a more positive tone. Things like "reaching new heights." Okay, makes sense.
I have to admit listening to these flying songs has boosted my mood. I don't know if reading any marketing materials will put me in a good mood, but there must be some truth in how thinking about up is positive.
But one question leaves me perplexed. If love is so grand, why do we fall in it?
Love to the single girls,
Addison
First, I've been putting together a music play list for an event I'm running. The play list theme is motivating songs that have to do with flying. There are tons of classic and new songs that fit the theme like Fly by Nicki Minaj and Rihanna, Learning to Fly by Pink Floyd (or the Tom Petty version), Fly Away by Lenny Kravitz, Gonna Fly Now (the Rocky theme) and I Believe I Can Fly by R Kelly. Check out a few of them and see where your spirits go.
Then I had to sit in a classroom for a full day to be trained on one of my clients' new brand. The company hired consultants to help them rebrand. The new and improved focus is more on customers (really?). And the approach is all very positive and looks to the future rather than leading off with scare tactics and what may have happened in the past in any spoken or written communication.
Then the two consultants told us we should use "up" words because they project a more positive tone. Things like "reaching new heights." Okay, makes sense.
I have to admit listening to these flying songs has boosted my mood. I don't know if reading any marketing materials will put me in a good mood, but there must be some truth in how thinking about up is positive.
But one question leaves me perplexed. If love is so grand, why do we fall in it?
Love to the single girls,
Addison
Saturday, September 14, 2013
The tiniest gesture
This morning yesterday's funk was better but not totally gone. The day started out just bleh, so I did what I do most every morning.
Run.
Today was one of those I made myself do it. The weather wasn't too bad and, except for the workers in the park setting up for the next festival, it was pretty deserted outside like most weekend mornings.
I turned the corner after a couple of blocks on one of my regular routes and saw a guy I know. He was standing there with his dog, holding his shirt and stretching after his run.
Then he did the simplest thing. He reached his hand out and up for a high five as I ran by.
Since I'm so short, I had to stretch to reach his hand. The timing was perfect, and I swear his energy transferred through his palm to me. Just a simple touch gave me a boost that may have changed my mood and the course of the day.
The gesture was simple but so powerful. I'll bet he didn't know such a small thing could make such a big difference.
Love to the single girls,
Addison
Run.
Today was one of those I made myself do it. The weather wasn't too bad and, except for the workers in the park setting up for the next festival, it was pretty deserted outside like most weekend mornings.
I turned the corner after a couple of blocks on one of my regular routes and saw a guy I know. He was standing there with his dog, holding his shirt and stretching after his run.
Then he did the simplest thing. He reached his hand out and up for a high five as I ran by.
Since I'm so short, I had to stretch to reach his hand. The timing was perfect, and I swear his energy transferred through his palm to me. Just a simple touch gave me a boost that may have changed my mood and the course of the day.
The gesture was simple but so powerful. I'll bet he didn't know such a small thing could make such a big difference.
Love to the single girls,
Addison
Friday, September 13, 2013
My mini melodramatic meltdown
Do you ever have days when you lose faith in yourself? This is one of those days. I don't know if it's PMS or Friday the 13th bad luck or just a tad of fall fever. Things are definitely off.
The good news is the day is close to over. Until then, I'm staying in where I can't get into trouble.
Work is so busy. It's like when someone tosses a whole basket of golf balls into the air and expects you to keep them all in the air or catch them. Today I could hardly catch one. I just wanted to sit down with a glass of wine and watch the balls bounce. The entire summer's been like this, but I've been lucky enough to not have any screw-ups - until today that is. I learned today I made a little budgeting error for an organization I lead that may end up costing the group a bit of money. I hate it, but it is what it is. It happened because I was (an am) overwhelmed. There's just too much going on.
But I'm most disillusioned with my personal life. After all of the gaffes I've made with guys over the last 15 months and everything I've learned, I still have rotten luck. The first time I met someone I like - and he likes me - then something weird happened to him and he totally retreated. I want to know him better so I hope this passes. Soon.
Then there's my friend. We hook up occasionally, like last night. He and I may be in a similar emotional place - heartache in our past and some unfortunate dating situations. I'm not sure if our relationship - whatever you call it - is good or bad for him or for me, but we enjoy each other. It works, and I like it.
I'm still freaked out over my bad date last weekend. I know; let it go. I dread running into him in the neighborhood though. He already texted this week, so I have to be prepared with my polite decline. I always enjoy an adventure, but right now I'd much rather jump out of an airplane than go on another date.
I can't blame it all on luck. One friend said some guys must think I look easy. Not sure why, but I'm going to work on that. Another friend told me it's just my nature to meet people. She said I always find something interesting about them. Maybe they take that interest as "I'm interested in fucking you"? I've got to work on that too.
I keep learning which are the bad guys and which are the good. But the rules keep changing, and there are just way too many flavors of bad to keep up with. My good girlfriends don't live here so they're probably looking up therapists to recommend by now so they don't have to listen to my little meltdowns as often.
Until then, this day is almost over, there's been no new trouble, and that makes me happy. Tomorrow this funk will be gone. It has to be because I'm almost out of tissues.
Love to the single girls,
Addison
The good news is the day is close to over. Until then, I'm staying in where I can't get into trouble.
Work is so busy. It's like when someone tosses a whole basket of golf balls into the air and expects you to keep them all in the air or catch them. Today I could hardly catch one. I just wanted to sit down with a glass of wine and watch the balls bounce. The entire summer's been like this, but I've been lucky enough to not have any screw-ups - until today that is. I learned today I made a little budgeting error for an organization I lead that may end up costing the group a bit of money. I hate it, but it is what it is. It happened because I was (an am) overwhelmed. There's just too much going on.
But I'm most disillusioned with my personal life. After all of the gaffes I've made with guys over the last 15 months and everything I've learned, I still have rotten luck. The first time I met someone I like - and he likes me - then something weird happened to him and he totally retreated. I want to know him better so I hope this passes. Soon.
Then there's my friend. We hook up occasionally, like last night. He and I may be in a similar emotional place - heartache in our past and some unfortunate dating situations. I'm not sure if our relationship - whatever you call it - is good or bad for him or for me, but we enjoy each other. It works, and I like it.
I'm still freaked out over my bad date last weekend. I know; let it go. I dread running into him in the neighborhood though. He already texted this week, so I have to be prepared with my polite decline. I always enjoy an adventure, but right now I'd much rather jump out of an airplane than go on another date.
I can't blame it all on luck. One friend said some guys must think I look easy. Not sure why, but I'm going to work on that. Another friend told me it's just my nature to meet people. She said I always find something interesting about them. Maybe they take that interest as "I'm interested in fucking you"? I've got to work on that too.
I keep learning which are the bad guys and which are the good. But the rules keep changing, and there are just way too many flavors of bad to keep up with. My good girlfriends don't live here so they're probably looking up therapists to recommend by now so they don't have to listen to my little meltdowns as often.
Until then, this day is almost over, there's been no new trouble, and that makes me happy. Tomorrow this funk will be gone. It has to be because I'm almost out of tissues.
Love to the single girls,
Addison
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Sex and the City and China
Last night, three of us had girls night. We ate enchiladas on my fine china. What else would we do for an evening of Sex and the City? It's what Charlotte would do - if she approved of the china pattern at least. We were going to have Cosmopolitans too but none of us was in the mood to drink.
But we were in the mood for the fabulous series. One of the girls has never seen the show so we're watching from the very beginning.
As many times as I've watch Sex and the City, each episode and each time is relevant for a new reason. It's relevant for me or someone else. In the four episodes we watched last night, one had a scene where Carrie ran into an ex with his husband. They asked if she would donate eggs for their baby. My friend had just that morning donated eggs.
Another friend is following a painful and common theme in the series. She keeps going back to her ex to repeat what was never a good relationship.
Then there's me. As a newly single girl, I can relate to almost every scenario (well, except for some of the girls' unfortunate wardrobe choices). I've felt the single girl discrimination- pity and wives looking at me as a threat. But mostly my couple friends are so nice in letting me tag along.
Honestly some of my experiences would have shocked even the Sex and the City girls. I can usually entertain my couple friends with my escapades, and I keep adding new stories.
We're about halfway through season one and I love the shows as much or more today than the first time I watched them on HBO.
Love to the single girls,
Addison
Making a little mark
I did something last week I had thought carefully about for more than a year. I had my belly button pierced.
My mother would cringe if she knew. Even though I wore earrings every day since middle school, she didn't let me pierce my ears until I was 18. Some of my high school and college friends would raise their eyebrows. Others who knew me better would just shake their head and laugh. My clients - well, they'll just never know.
My friend's boyfriend asked me what made me decide to do it. I hadn't really put it into words until then. I told him I just wanted to. I like the look, and my belly's decent enough to pull it off. My experience in LA last month when some women at a party gave me those shocked looks when they could see my belly button helped push me to do it.
The experience wasn't bad at all, but it hurt more than I expected. I anticipated that sharp little prick like a shot at the doctor's office or when the piercing gun pokes through your earlobe. This was more. It almost brought tears to my eyes, but having my friend with me made it much easier. And I still laugh about the woman's bad breath who did the piercing. She did a good job as far as I know, but at the time, it was a needed distraction. She thought I was feeling faint when I stepped away from her afterwards. Really, I was just trying to put a little distance between us.
Some men think a naval ring is sexy, and any man who doesn't probably wouldn't like me anyway. But I didn't do it to be sexy for anyone. I did it for me and because I wanted to.
Love to the single girls,
Addison
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Forgiveness
Why do some people have such a hard time forgiving themselves?
The nice guy I met a few weeks ago and had the amazing three-day first date with did something he shouldn't have. Last week he ran into bad luck and got caught. While what happened was a little irresponsible, it wasn't that horrible. It cost him a little money, and I'm sure he'll never do it again. It's not the end of the world.
He texted he was too embarrassed to tell me what happened. But now I know, and he has no idea I know.
The nice guy I met a few weeks ago and had the amazing three-day first date with did something he shouldn't have. Last week he ran into bad luck and got caught. While what happened was a little irresponsible, it wasn't that horrible. It cost him a little money, and I'm sure he'll never do it again. It's not the end of the world.
He texted he was too embarrassed to tell me what happened. But now I know, and he has no idea I know.
He's also been silent since Friday night.
In the last week, we've gone from him telling me he was looking forward to outdoing our first date on our second and he would call me tomorrow to make plans for his visit that weekend - to nothing. The last I heard from him was this text, "Yes. I don't use my head sometimes. Call me when you get free."
I replied soon after. "We're human. Don't beat yourself up. You'll be okay. Call you in morning?"
My friend was sleeping off jet lag so I didn't want to wake her. I did call him the next day and got voicemail. I texted three times since and haven't heard back.
I hope he knows I can move beyond a dumb little mistake. We all make them. I've made (and written about) many. Judging would be pointless. We learn and move on.
He's a good man who needs to forgive himself and move on.
Love to the single girls,
Addison
Monday, September 9, 2013
People should come with warning labels
Hair pulling and a loud fart was how my date ended last night. It was my first date with a man I met a few weeks ago. It's the one I wrote about in Lucy's Still in the Closet and I Keep Meeting Men.
He seemed nice enough the night we met. Good conversation. Our marketing careers and Greek heritage in common. Then he called me the next week to meet for a drink, but I was halfway across the country and couldn't. So we connected again last week and made plans to go to my favorite Greek restaurant. He even joined with my group of friends Friday night and we had a couple of drinks at the pub. He blended pretty well; got along with the gang okay and even bought my drink.
Then we had our Sunday night date. He picked me up and dinner was nice. He was agreeable and seemed pretty easy going. Toward the end of dinner though, I realized we had spent the majority of the last two hours talking about him. He told me about growing up in Puerto Rico, living in The Bronx in college and some of his travel adventures. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't bored. They were interesting stories, but all about him just the same. I felt like a journalist doing an interview, and he showed little interest in knowing anything about me.
The first clue was right after he picked me up. We drove past the fire station and saw what I thought was a moving 9/11 display they had put up to memorialize the day. I asked him where he was on 9/11. He told me but didn't even ask the same of me. I know when his birthday is, which gym he's going to join, about his parents and his college athletic adventures.
He knows almost nothing about me. But I did drink pretty close to a full bottle of wine.
I also asked if he has kids (his answer was "not that I know of"), and tried to get out of him whether he'd been married or had long-term relationships.
After dinner, we went by his place to put his takeout food in his fridge. We ended up staying to watch the last quarter of the Sunday night football game. It was a nice place; well decorated but still moving in a bit.
"Can I kiss you?" he asked when his mouth was about two inches away from mine. I let him. The first kiss was gentle. Not bad.
Then his hands went everywhere. He was rubbing my belly just rough enough that I had to mention something I had hoped would never come up. I had just had my belly button pierced and it was tender when he touched it. (blog to come on that)
"Let me see," he said.
Just as I was saying, "I can't, I'm wearing a dress," he pulled my dress up. I yanked it back down as fast as I could. He kissed me again. This time it wasn't gentle. In fact, he almost bit my face off - so much I just noticed a couple of bruises on my bottom lip. And he grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled. He didn't pull it in that sexy way. It was the let-the-fuck-go-of-my-hair way.
"Ouch, that hurt," I said.
He let go but didn't respond. But then he asked another question.
"Will you sleep with me tonight?"
"No." Not that I would've had sex with him on a first date, but by that point, I didn't even want to kiss him.
"Would you have the nerve to ask me the same question?"
"No," I answered. "If I wanted to 'sleep' with you, I wouldn't ask. I just would." I don't think he knew how to respond.
That was my cue to grab my purse and leave. So I did, but he insisted on walking me home after he went to the bathroom. That's when the ginormous fart happened. I'd had to have been totally deaf to not hear through the bathroom door it in the quiet place.
He walked me the three blocks to my building and to my door. We couldn't walk fast enough. Then he left.
I had seen some people I knew at the pub when we walked by, so I gave him a few minutes head start and walked over there. I was too wound up to go to bed, so I sucked down two vodka cranberry cocktails and we laughed like crazy about the night's experiences. They all thought he was out of line. This morning I regretted those two drinks after all of the wine when the floor was still moving at noon after coffee, a little food and a shower.
There is good news. He's not a narcissist. He still knows little about me except the color of my panties. And I'm not going out with him again.
Love to the single girls,
Addison
He seemed nice enough the night we met. Good conversation. Our marketing careers and Greek heritage in common. Then he called me the next week to meet for a drink, but I was halfway across the country and couldn't. So we connected again last week and made plans to go to my favorite Greek restaurant. He even joined with my group of friends Friday night and we had a couple of drinks at the pub. He blended pretty well; got along with the gang okay and even bought my drink.
Then we had our Sunday night date. He picked me up and dinner was nice. He was agreeable and seemed pretty easy going. Toward the end of dinner though, I realized we had spent the majority of the last two hours talking about him. He told me about growing up in Puerto Rico, living in The Bronx in college and some of his travel adventures. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't bored. They were interesting stories, but all about him just the same. I felt like a journalist doing an interview, and he showed little interest in knowing anything about me.
The first clue was right after he picked me up. We drove past the fire station and saw what I thought was a moving 9/11 display they had put up to memorialize the day. I asked him where he was on 9/11. He told me but didn't even ask the same of me. I know when his birthday is, which gym he's going to join, about his parents and his college athletic adventures.
He knows almost nothing about me. But I did drink pretty close to a full bottle of wine.
After dinner, we went by his place to put his takeout food in his fridge. We ended up staying to watch the last quarter of the Sunday night football game. It was a nice place; well decorated but still moving in a bit.
"Can I kiss you?" he asked when his mouth was about two inches away from mine. I let him. The first kiss was gentle. Not bad.
Then his hands went everywhere. He was rubbing my belly just rough enough that I had to mention something I had hoped would never come up. I had just had my belly button pierced and it was tender when he touched it. (blog to come on that)
"Let me see," he said.
Just as I was saying, "I can't, I'm wearing a dress," he pulled my dress up. I yanked it back down as fast as I could. He kissed me again. This time it wasn't gentle. In fact, he almost bit my face off - so much I just noticed a couple of bruises on my bottom lip. And he grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled. He didn't pull it in that sexy way. It was the let-the-fuck-go-of-my-hair way.
"Ouch, that hurt," I said.
He let go but didn't respond. But then he asked another question.
"Will you sleep with me tonight?"
"No." Not that I would've had sex with him on a first date, but by that point, I didn't even want to kiss him.
"Would you have the nerve to ask me the same question?"
"No," I answered. "If I wanted to 'sleep' with you, I wouldn't ask. I just would." I don't think he knew how to respond.
That was my cue to grab my purse and leave. So I did, but he insisted on walking me home after he went to the bathroom. That's when the ginormous fart happened. I'd had to have been totally deaf to not hear through the bathroom door it in the quiet place.
He walked me the three blocks to my building and to my door. We couldn't walk fast enough. Then he left.
I had seen some people I knew at the pub when we walked by, so I gave him a few minutes head start and walked over there. I was too wound up to go to bed, so I sucked down two vodka cranberry cocktails and we laughed like crazy about the night's experiences. They all thought he was out of line. This morning I regretted those two drinks after all of the wine when the floor was still moving at noon after coffee, a little food and a shower.
There is good news. He's not a narcissist. He still knows little about me except the color of my panties. And I'm not going out with him again.
Love to the single girls,
Addison
Sunday, September 1, 2013
I know I like a guy when . . .
My three-day first date ended yesterday, and it was a blast. I know I like him. Really. And it's a different kind of like than I've felt before. I'm not just curious what it would be like to have sex with him. I'm not in need of companionship, nor am I desperate to date someone. And I know I'm not bored.
1. This one is simple. It's logistics and time. I drove three hours to see him. The last few weeks have been pure chaos and I really didn't have time for the trip, but I needed it. We needed it. After we met a couple of weeks ago, there were so many sparks that we just had to see each other again, and it needed to be soon. With his schedule and mine, we didn't know when the next chance would be, so we just did it.
2. He made me feel welcome, in the most warm and unselfish way. From the moment I arrived, he made sure I had what I needed. He met me at the gate to get my car in then moved his truck to make a closer spot for my car, and his place was clean and very neat. And best of all, he never said anything that seemed like my visit was a bother or inconvenient for him. Even though he told me numerous times, he didn't have to - I knew he sincerely wanted me there.
3. I had just as much fun sitting on his sofa talking as I did when we were out at a restaurant. And he planned two amazing evenings out - one watching the sun set over the lake and the other exploring the cool downtown area of the city. We never tripped on each other's words nor did we have a lull in conversation. We talked about our work, hobbies, passions, life - even religion and politics. We're right there in sync on it all. The last night we bought some groceries and cooked in. I played bartender (not very well) while he cooked. We truly enjoyed each other's company.
4. He never pushed me to do anything. From what we did in the evening to where I would sleep, he was cool with anything. I didn't know yet if I'd be ready to share his bed on the first night. It all goes back to being afraid of feeling vulnerable. He has such amazing sex appeal that I couldn't wait to explore his body. While I hope we can stretch those intimate moments to last longer and have even more of them, he was a caring and passionate lover. Our bodies and rhythms fit, and I want more.
5. With all of the conversation and intimacy, I was comfortable and not vulnerable. I don't often have a difficult time opening up to someone, but sometimes I regret it. I feel vulnerable. Like I've shared too much. Like they might use it against me. He was never like that. Communication is important to him, and we talked about how we felt about our visit - what we expected and how we felt as the three-day first date was getting close to ending.
6. Now that I've been home for a day, I miss him but I don't feel frantic. Before I left, he shared that he really hoped I would like him but wasn't sure I would make the trip up. I told him indeed did like him - his sex appeal, his friendly, fun nature, and the fact that he's just so nice. I told him more than once that he was spoiling me - I don't know how to act around the nice ones. We agreed that we looked forward to getting to know each other even better.
And I hope we do. Soon.
Love to the single girls,
Addison
3. I had just as much fun sitting on his sofa talking as I did when we were out at a restaurant. And he planned two amazing evenings out - one watching the sun set over the lake and the other exploring the cool downtown area of the city. We never tripped on each other's words nor did we have a lull in conversation. We talked about our work, hobbies, passions, life - even religion and politics. We're right there in sync on it all. The last night we bought some groceries and cooked in. I played bartender (not very well) while he cooked. We truly enjoyed each other's company.
4. He never pushed me to do anything. From what we did in the evening to where I would sleep, he was cool with anything. I didn't know yet if I'd be ready to share his bed on the first night. It all goes back to being afraid of feeling vulnerable. He has such amazing sex appeal that I couldn't wait to explore his body. While I hope we can stretch those intimate moments to last longer and have even more of them, he was a caring and passionate lover. Our bodies and rhythms fit, and I want more.
5. With all of the conversation and intimacy, I was comfortable and not vulnerable. I don't often have a difficult time opening up to someone, but sometimes I regret it. I feel vulnerable. Like I've shared too much. Like they might use it against me. He was never like that. Communication is important to him, and we talked about how we felt about our visit - what we expected and how we felt as the three-day first date was getting close to ending.
6. Now that I've been home for a day, I miss him but I don't feel frantic. Before I left, he shared that he really hoped I would like him but wasn't sure I would make the trip up. I told him indeed did like him - his sex appeal, his friendly, fun nature, and the fact that he's just so nice. I told him more than once that he was spoiling me - I don't know how to act around the nice ones. We agreed that we looked forward to getting to know each other even better.
And I hope we do. Soon.
Love to the single girls,
Addison
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