EUPHORIA!!!!!!!

Today is like Christmas, my birthday, New Years Eve and the start of college football season all wrapped into one! Nothing can possibly bring me down today.

Why you may ask?

Because I'm going to see George Michael in concert tonight! And I am sooooooooo excited! I can't help it!

Take care, dear readers! For today, I'm euphoric!

Success?

How do you measure success in an endavor like mine? Do you measure it in tears not cried? Good decisions made? Contented evenings spent at home alone?

By any measure last night was a success, though it started out looking like a failure. First off, I had planned to visit Pete the spin instructor last night. However, the weight of the day got to me and all I wanted to do was go home, open a bottle of wine and enjoy my back porch.

I did not do that. What I did was go home and take a nap. Then I went to publix to buy some junk food (if I wasn't going to drink I might as well eat, right?). I did buy junk food, but didn't end up eating it.

Divine intervention stepped in and the power went out. I could have gone back to the wine/back porch plan. I didn't. I put on workout clothes and went to the gym. Then I stopped by Chipotle on the way home and got a burrito (no chips).

So, count one for me - good decision made - on the no drinking, working out, eating healthier part.

At the gym I heard a song that always brings me to tears. It is ironically entitled "Last Tears" and it is by the Indigo Girls (there is a version on youtube - I highly recommend you check it out). It is a song about getting over someone. I listen to it nearly every day as a reminder to stop crying, but all it does is make me cry more. Go figure. Anyway, last night at the gym it came on my ipod. I didn't fast forward. I listened to it, felt it. But didn't cry.

Count two for me - tears not cried.

After the gym, the meal, I settled in on the couch for the evening (it was 8pm after all). I got sucked into the movie "Auntie Mame." What fun that movie was. I really enjoyed myself. I went to bed around 11pm and fell fast asleep.

Count three for me - contented evening spent alone.

This is not to say there will not be set backs. There will be. But for yesterday, I won.

I beat my fear of aloneness by a score of 3 - 0.

Take care, dear readers. I'll be kicking ass one day at a time.

Alone as a Permanent Prospect

I have mentioned this before, but it bears repeating. The last time I grappled with being alone, I wasn't really alone. S and I had broken up but I was certain that we would get back together. That made it easier.



Many things have happened with this break up that make it very clear to me that this time it is for a very long time, if not forever.



The biggest difference - he has moved out of state. I remember the day he got his job (there is a blog entry on that, too) and how happy I was for him. But the flip side of that was that I was devastated personally. I knew he was going to move and that would be it. I might never see him again. And the idea of never seeing him again scared me. I now realize that the reason it scared me so much was that it meant that this aloneness might be a permanent prospect. My fear caused me to overreact, cling, manipulate - do anything to make him see me one last time.



Every once in a while my rational self would make an appearance. My rational self was the one that cancelled dinner plans knowing that seeing S would do nothing but hurt me. It might give me hope - and I'd cling to that hope for months just to avoid my fear of being alone, my fear that this aloneness might be permanent.



Yesterday my rational self took a huge step forward. I told S that I would not be talking (or more specifically, emailing) to him for the next two weeks. Talking to him is distracting to me and my quest to get comfortable in my new position - woman alone (permanently).

So tonight is my one of my first steps. Tonight (like Sunday actually) I have no plans. It is just me, my house, my cats and my fears. We'll all sit together and I'm willing to bet that I find that my fears are not nearly as scary as I think they are. That I'm much stronger than I think I am. And that my cats are just as annoying as I think they are. (It is hard to come to grips with being alone when there is always someone - Stormy - leaning on you in bed!).

Take care, dear readers.

What Has Happened To Us?

Tonight I was playing supportive girlfriend, which is hilarious considering what a fucked up mess I am.

I was sitting across from my friend. A beautiful, effervescent woman. Self-confident, interesting, intelligent, educated. She is upset with her boyfriend of nearly two years who does not seem to be interested in committing. And she looks at me, tears welling up in her eyes and asks me, "what is wrong with me? I'm smart, pretty, own my own home, keep a clean house, cook well, enjoy football - what is wrong with me?"

And, honestly, there is nothing wrong with her. Not a thing. Why do we heap this responsibility on ourselves? A man doesn't want to be with us - it's our fault. We're smart women. What the hell?

I tried to reassure her that she deserves more (she does) and that there is more out there for her (there is).

The irony is that I'm a broken mess myself. My pain is so real, so physical, I swear there are scabs on my heart. I have never hurt so much or been so afraid. So afraid of letting someone in, so afraid of feeling anything, so afraid of being alone with my thoughts. The ones I reassured my friend are not true (and they are not - not for her, nor for me). But they creep around. And scare me. And tell me I'm not good enough, will never be good enough.

And it's that fucking hole. The one I can't fill. The one I can't get anyone else to fill. The one that apparently all of us have. And none of us have learned to fill.

Oh dear God, what has happened to my generation of women?

Take care dear readers, I'm saving my generation - one woman at a time (I'll be last...)

Dead End Date

I had my third date with Michael, the actuary, on Friday night. We had reservations on Friday night at Two Urban Licks - one of my favorite restaurants in town. I could not get excited, however. Something was wrong. I had the day off and was not very responsive to his emails - he accused me of being short. Then he got here and, I don't know, he just repulsed me.

He was being clingy. When he called me beautiful he sounded insincere. I would have preferred to stay home and drink wine and listen to music by myself than go to dinner with him. But I went.

We were seated and shortly after we were seated an obvious girls night group were seated. And I was jealous. I would so much rather have been with them.

So here I am with my date, who is repulsing me. He is talking, talking, talking and all I'm hearing is J. And my skin is crawling and I'm feeling anxious and wondering how much longer I'll have to sit here. I told him I was tired, wanted to go to spin class in the morning and just wanted to go home. He acquiesced.

When he took me home he hugged me. I just wanted to run in, curl up with the tv and be done with it.

So, again, here I am at the same conclusion I come to over and over and over again. I'm done dating.

I am not seeking dates until January 1. As always if something fantastic finds me I'll not let it pass me by. But as of today, I am not looking.

My Saddest Moment

Someone asked me recently what my saddest moment was. I refused to answer. So many incredibly sad moments from the past year ran through my head.

Laying on a bed in Savannah and realizing I was never going home again.

Telling J that it was over, there was no saving our marriage.

Losing S. Both times.

But the moment that stands out in my memory is the day I realized that what was really hurting me was that my father couldn't love me. I played with the word "couldn't" there. On a particularly bad day I'll think that he never loved me. The logical extension of this in my head is that I'm unlovable.

It hurts when you realize that the pain you've been carrying your entire life is mostly attributable to the lack of one single relationship. Now, granted, it is a very formative relationship - occurring before you ever even realized it existed.

I look back at my childhood and I can't name a time where I felt love from my father. For the most part he just wasn't there. He was supposed to pick me up from dance class - he was always at least an hour late. He used us kids as pawns to make my mother happy. I remember bringing home a report card with all A's and an A minus and being criticized for it not being all A's. I remember the disapproval, the lack of interest in the plays or other extracurricular activities in which I participated.

And I internalized this feedback. In response I'd try harder. Be the perfect student, perfect daughter, making sure not to get into trouble, getting into school, getting scholarships - all to get his approval. My mother reminded me that I did as much to push my father away when I was in middle school as he did when I was younger - that might sway me to accept more responsibility but for the fact that a) all teenagers do that, b) the harm had already been done by that point and c) he's supposed to be the grown up.

My entire life I have been chasing for approval from someone (dad, boyfriends, husband) who is unwilling or unable to give me the approval I am seeking. Sometimes it is because the person from whom I am seeking the approval is, similar to my father, simply unable to give it. Sometimes it is because I seek too much and the hole is too deep for anyone (but me) to fill. And I don't know how to fill it because I am busy trying to be everything for everyone else.

I am never going to be happy until I can get through this one, singular issue. As they say in therapy (or self help books) - the only way to get over anything is to go through it. So I'm dropping the anger towards my father and shifting into dealing with all the hurt.

It wasn't fair. I deserved a father that loved me and adored me and thought I was the coolest thing ever. But I didn't get that. And it was not my fault. I didn't do anything wrong. I was totally worthy of having a fantastic father. I just didn't get one.

And in many ways it wasn't really his fault. He did the best he could given his upbringing and background. He did all he could - it just wasn't very much.

I don't need to perpetuate this cycle of hurt. I need to figure out a way to fill the hole myself (sort of like comforting myself last night).

So , take care dear readers. I'm backfilling.

Comforting Myself

I have had an extraordinarily difficult week. Professionally I got into something just short of a shouting match with my boss. In my charitable efforts I am faced with a very difficult decision. I have had way too many dates, been up too late, haven't worked out enough, haven't slept well enough. I'm exhausted - both mentally and physically.

All I wanted to do last night was curl up with someone on the couch and watch tv. I wanted to be held, have my hair stroked, cry into someone's chest and be told that it was all going to be OK. I could have called either A or Michael (the actuary not the short one with whom I cancelled the date) and had them over to fill that role.

But something hit me. At some point I am going to have to learn to comfort myself; to hug myself; to tell myself that everything is going to be all right. So I went home, worked out, started some laundry and plopped on the couch to watch tv and relax. And you know what? Everything was all right. I had a very relaxing night and slept like a baby.

Take care, dear readers. I'll be comforting myself.

Cardinal Sin of Girls Night

I started girls night 3-4 years ago (we can't exactly remember) as a New Years resolution of mine. The intent was twofold: a) go to nice restaurants our boyfriends/fiances/husbands would not take us to and b) keep in touch with our girlfriends. We go to a new restaurant every month and the group has grown from 4-5 to nearly 8-10. Of course not everyone comes every night but we usually at least get four people out of it.

We sit around, drink wine, eat food, gossip, complain about our jobs/significant others (or lack thereof)/sex etc. General girls night stuff. You will notice that this is not a night for us to go out prowling for men. The point is for us to get together - there are 29-30 other nights in the month that can be used for prowling.

Well, last night one of our junior members committed the cardinal sin and may be the first person to unanimously get booted from girls night.

What was her sin? We were sitting at our table and this manager was helping us. It was his night off and he was just filling in. This girl immediately took a liking to him. She asked him to our table, went trotting off with him several times and spent the entire night talking to him, flirting with him, etc. This same girl has in the past complained about the cost of girls night so she was not drinking. As we were leaving she got on her high horse with several of us (she was then drinking a glass of wine b/c he got it for her...) saying the reason we were full was because of the champagne and asking whether we could drive. So, not only did she abandon girls night and its purpose, but she also exploited her friends so she could look good in front of this guy.

Unacceptable.

I declare her officially and irrevocably removed from Girls Night.

On another note I'd like to say this - dating like a man is kicking my ass. I'm exhausted. I've had dates with 8-10 men (some of them multiple times) in the past 6 weeks. I'm tired. I want to sleep. By myself. For a month. I believe the experiment is over. I can emotionally handle dating like a man but I can't physically handle it. So, I am going to thin the herd down to my two favorites (A and a man named Michael that I haven't previously mentioned). If someone interesting and new comes up I'm willing to entertain it, but for now. I'm hanging up my guy pants in favor of a nice skirt and heels.

Take care, dear reader. I'll be resting.

Las Vegas: Part 2

I was so glad to be going to Las Vegas with a girlfriend. J. and I went out there quite often but always concentrated on gambling. C and I did some other stuff.



On Friday we went to Mon Ami Gabi for our favorite brie cheeseburgers and champagne.
Mon Ami Gabi sits across the street from the Bellagio hotel so while we were eating/drinking we watched the fountains go off - it was the first time we had ever seen that! All in all it was the perfect lunch.

Saturday night we had tickets to Bette Midler. To go along with that we made dinner reservations at Bradley Ogden's restaurant in Caesar's. It was another perfect meal. The service was perfect - they seemed to know exactly when you might want something and never rushed us. We shared two appetizers, the crab cakes and a blue cheese souffle (I am not sure I am saying that right...). They split the appetizers in the kitchen and, I can't stress this enough, the service was impeccable!

I ordered the chicken (sounds boring, I know) and C ordered scallops. The chicken was incredible. It was crispy on the outside and juicy on the inside. Amazing. Dessert for me was a cheese plate. The cheese plate was fantastic and it was obvious that they had put a lot of thought into choosing the cheeses. They were not run of the mill - each was very interesting and came with its own accompaniment.

All in all, dinner was a 10.

We walked over to the show. Bette Midler was AMAZING. Our only complaint was that the show was too short! At 90 minutes long we could have used a lot more Bette! She was bawdy and dirty and rowdy and carefree. She was just so perfect for Vegas.

Incredible night.

I bet you're waiting for the epiphany. After our meal and before the show started Carla and I were sitting in our seats and I was overcome with this feeling that THIS is my life. My life is incredible. I'm young, single, make enough money to do what I want to do. Life is meant to be lived fully, out loud, without regrets, without fear. I have never understood the saying "what would you do if you couldn't fail." I now get that saying - I can look back at my life and see there were times that I would have made different decisions if I didn't believe I could fail. Generally these were in my personal life as I have always made good, solid decisions professionally.

So take care dear readers, I am taking this tiger that is life by the tail and I'm going to swing it around as hard as I can. I am living my life as though I can not fail.

Las Vegas: The Good, The Bette and The Epiphany

Part 1

Before I recount my time in Vegas, I need to admit that a lot of the time I spend in Vegas is just one big blur.

With that being said, off we go.

C and I arrived in Las Vegas at 9:30am on Thursday morning. Yes, I said 9:30am. That meant I got up at 5am. The larger group we were meeting up with were already in town and gambling. We picked up Z (see the Buffet post) and shared a taxi to the Golden Nugget. We checked in then went to catch up with our group. Ah, there they are - at the blackjack table. No room for me so C and I went to grab some lunch (a good thing as there was no dinner forthcoming).

After lunch I found a spot at the table and we gambled all day. And I mean all day. From like 11am Vegas time to 10pm Vegas time. Good news - I wasn't down! Woo hoo! C went home early and I stayed out a little later and ended up going back to Z's room (shocking, I know).

Be back later to update Part 2, AKA Champagne, Brie and Mocking L

Dating Like a Man

I read an article recently on MSN.com (yes, I have that much time on my hands) about how to date multiple people at the same time. It was clearly aimed towards men. But I am seriously considering employing this strategy for several reasons:

1) I am not ready (or in a position) to settle down at this point,
2) I don't know that one person will embody all the different facets that I want in a man.

So, I'm going to date buffet style.

A, the 28 year old, fulfills the sexual role and also allows me to be the person in control in the relationship (which is new for me after the last 2 men I dated). He also helps me be silly and to feel young. All good things. The downside? He doesn't like nice restaurants or wine. And he is extremely busy (of course so am I). Oh yeah, and he's 28 so our conversations (as of yet) have not been of an incredible depth. He doesn't make me think and I miss that.

So, lets introduce M, the date from Parish. M shares my love of fine wine and food. He makes me think and laugh on a slightly more intelligent level than A. He also really seems to like me and accepts my totaly bitchy side. Downside? I am not as physically attracted to him as I am A. He also doesn't seem to be into sports as much as I am (college football is around the corner) and is slightly artsier than I need to be.

And then there is Z. I leave tomorrow morning for Las Vegas and Z (an old crush from high school) will be there. Z and I have been flirting/romantically linked for nearly 21 years. He connects me to my past and makes me feel like the girl I was in High School. He is also a huge football fan and enjoys good food and wine - sounds like he's the answer, huh?. Problem? He lives in Chicago and just broke up with his fiancee.

The main point here is that all these men are worth keeping around and spending time with for the unique traits and talents they bring to the table. I don't see the point in jettisoning any of them.

So, I am going to date like a man.

Take care, dear readers - we'll see how this experiment goes.

Solitude in South Georgia

I am traveling for work in South Georgia. Yesterday involved 6 hours of driving and 2 hours of presentation with a side of dinner for one and a quiet hotel room. All day I was attached to the blackberry emailing one person or another.

After I got to the hotel and did my normal rounds on the internet, I did something radical.

I turned off the computer, put aside the blackberry and just sat there. Alone with the TV.

And you know what? It was nice. I felt - wait for it - normal. For the first time in over a month I felt like myself. It was nice to see me again. My life has moved so fast in the last year that I have had very few opportunities to catch up with myself and breathe.

Take care dear readers, I'm waiting to breathe again.

"I Like Me!"

God bless you, Lyn.

I told you I'd write about this. : )

Last night I went to Lyn's house. Her husband and two oldest children were out of town so we hung out like we used to. We griped about men (I had much to add to that conversation), we bitched about whatever. We had a great time.

Then Lyn said the perfect line - I Like Me. God love her. It isn't like Lyn had an idyllic childhood. Hers was as bad or worse than the rest of ours. But when she said "I Like Me" - I believed her. And I loved her for saying it. Even tonight it makes me smile. I wish I could muster up that kind of emotion for myself. I'm trying.

Take care dear readers, I'm emulating Lyn - I Like Me!

Parish Restaurant

This blog initially started as a restaurant review blog until my life totally went off the rails. I still eat out and sometimes I have such strong feelings about a restaurant that I have to blog about it.

Last Monday (the day of the wacked out S emails) I had an ill advised date. Ill advised because, for one, he's short. I have, at least temporarily, sworn off short men (the exhusband was short...). He told me to meet him at Top Flr at 6:30pm. I warned him I'm always early. I showed up at 6:15'ish at Top Flr. It's closed. I stand out in the Georgia heat in long black pants and a thin sweater. I'm sweating, I'm annoyed, he's late.

He wants a hello hug (seriously? I'm sweating like a pig here...). Then we debate where to go. I try to keep it close and suggest Avra (an old standby). He wants to go to Parish in Inman Park. Fine, Parish it is. As a parting shot I tell him that for inconveniencing me he'll have to loan me money for the valet because I don't have any cash.

Have I mentioned that I am a bitch on wheels on the dating scene right now?

Luckily this man has some kind of thing for bitches.

Anyway, I head over to Parish, valet the car (I did look for a spot on the street, in my defense). I go in and get a table for 2.

This is one of my restaurant pet peeves. The 2-tops were so close together that you'd feel like you were having dinner with the couple next to you. I nixed one table, then another, then we got seated in a 2-top by the aisle. Terrible table still but better than sitting on top of those next to you. I told the hostess that her 2-top situation sucked. She didn't seem to care.

Now, it was not just the 2-top situation that annoyed me. It was Monday night at 6:30pm. There were several 4 tops open - but she refused to seat us at one. Couples who came in later got to sit at one but we got screwed.

Anyway, I turned my attention to the menu (after a much needed glass of wine). It was on chalk boards on the wall. This annoys me because I know I can't take my mom here because she couldn't see it. Anyway, the menu is very aggressive. Lots of game - duck, rabbit, etc. Few mainstream entrees. We decide to stick with the appetizers (that's my thing anyway) and order oysters, a crab dip and a sausage cheesecake. The oysters were fine (what can you really do to them anyway?). The dip was underwhelming and seemed like it was a bunch of stuff left over from yesterday thrown together and heated up. The cheesecake, while interesting, is not something I'd repeat. It was mostly cream cheese with a hint of sausage.

Dessert was bread pudding. I love bread pudding and this was OK. Food 101 is still the reigning champion.

All in all, the restaurant is one I will not visit again.

There is a bright spot here (and it isn't really the date though he was nice and interesting) - the market below the store was very cool and had some very interesting items. That is somewhere I'd be likely to wander into for pastries, interesting gifts or wines.

So, Parish was a definite disappointment. The date turned out better than I thought and I managed to get up and run the next day.

Take care, dear readers.

Tepid

I am not sure what to think about this new guy. Last night was our third date. I like him, he's funny, smart, interesting, with a killer body. What's the problem you must be asking...

Well, last nights date was tepid at best. He had a bad week, crappy time at work, crappy time at home, etc. So he was kinda down. I'm tired of semi-depressed men. Are there no happy men in this world? And on a date shouldn't you put your best foot forward? Anyway, we went out in my neighborhood, had mexican food and drank a pitcher of margaritas. After that we go over to another bar and have a jager bomb (bad idea, yes i know). Fast forward 20 minutes, I'm driving his car home, he's nearly passed out on my couch and I am in bed. Alone. Fast forward 10 minutes and I am checking on the date in the bathroom.

Yes, he puked. In my bathroom.

When was the last time that happened on a date? Well, never. Not even when I was in college (though I did have a couple dates pass out on me - literally).

He ended up brushing his teeth (thank God) and I allowed him to stay over. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed having a man in bed with me - even just to sleep. It's nice. : )

So, dear readers, take care. I'll be trying to heat some things up. : )

The Woman in the Mirror

I am sitting here tonight waiting for my date to come over. I should be all jittery and excited, instead running through my head is a conversation I had with someone earlier today. He said to me - his face full of revelation - you don't know how other people see you, do you? (yes, this is the second time you've made my blog lol).

And dear God, he's right. Every once in a while I get a glimpse. When they asked me to be President of Ovarian Cycle I got a glimpse into how they viewed me - as a strong leader with the capability of taking this organization into the future. Sometimes in the eyes of a date you can see how they view you - pretty, charming, etc. Sometimes speaking with a friend and they laugh at a joke you can see that you might be funny.

But what do I see when I look in the mirror? Every bad thing that has ever been said to me has stuck. Dr. Phil (God help me for quoting him but he's right in this case) has said that it takes 10,000 compliments to erase one insult. I look in the mirror and I see the full face that S complained about. The fat arms that J complained about. The fear in my eyes that all these people will find out that I am not who they think I am. I believe it's called impostor syndrome - how fantastic sounding. Even more than that I am afraid that I am such a good chameleon that I can be whatever you want me to be without ever being true to myself.

Why do I think I'm so right and all these people are so wrong? The things I see reflected in their eyes, words and actions are things I've been told before - why don't I believe them?

And worse yet, I feel like I'm boring the pants off my readers because I keep grappling with the same things without getting over them! You all must be thinking - dear Lord woman, get on with it. lol.

I think about these things sometimes, but most of the time I laugh about my life. It's funny. And it's just life. If you worry all the time you'll get wrinkles. And then no 28 year old will want to go out with you...

Take care dear readers - I'm going to go check myself out in the mirror one last time. : )